Day 41, Part 2
Meanwhile, in the alchemy clearing, Ages brought together all the ingredients he needed for his medical breakthrough.
After using samples of Doshima's shadowy goo as a test subject, he believed he might have found the right combination of oils and minerals to slow its propagation to a crawl. In an old brewer's pot that was uncovered while scavenging, he brought water to a boil and tossed in dried herbs to retrieve their succulent essences. Once he had those, he could retrieve some of that fluent to mix it up in the correct ratio to ensure that Doshima's suffering could be subdued.
As he worked and stirred nearly constantly, doing his best to release as many juices from the leaves as he could, there was a hard, concentrated grin on his face. Ages was in such a state of progress that little could have disturbed him without uprooting his very consciousness from his working flow. Only one other dragon was with him -- Peasley, the expert on herbs -- and he was so magnificently quiet that someone in Ages's frame of mind would have been hard-pressed to notice him.
But as Ages continued to work and work, and talk to himself about "yes, this will be perfect," Peasley could feel something creeping through him. A shudder ran down the Tundra's spine: the sensation of a cold shadow. His fur stood on end. There was a sense of immediate dread in him, and he swallowed, moving towards Ages with an uncomfortable frown.
Halfway across the clearing, Peasley halted. From farther in front, he saw Ages stop working. An empty glass beaker fell from his forepaw. With a gasp, Peasley leaped over the cauldron and spun Ages's body around. The Mirror was still, his eyes immersed with a midnight purple, small whimpers escaping his body. "C-can't stop me," he wheezed. "Won't let... suffer...."
He was so unaware that he had already stopped.
Peasley shook him. He batted Ages's nose. With the fluffiest part of the tip of his tail, he attempted to make him sneeze. Nothing seemed to work. It didn't even backfire; Ages remained mumbling and his pained sounds grew steadily worse.
From Ages's neck, Peasley could see the shadows of blood that was yet to be spilled.
The Tundra tugged back. He had to tell someone. This wasn't right -- these shadows were pure evil -- and in fear, he dashed towards the main clearing. This was bad. So bad.
It required the help of the strongest dragon he knew.
x
"Aww, look at you. Toiling away for little more than a cure for someone who you barely interact with."
The cauldron vanished from Ages's feet as his world was swallowed in abrupt and impenetrable darkness. With a jolt, he looked up and forwards towards Eve, who carried a cocky and sinister smile.
Ha. Her again? Fine. I can just overwhelm her with my internal monologue and she'll leave. Ages smiled and, taking a deep breath, he began to let his mind run freely with all the materials he needed to restock and all the beautiful words he'd say to the clan once they learned of his incredible success. He envisioned their pride and joy upon his discovery, how he would stand tall and proud before them.
What he failed to foresee, however, was Eve's clawed hand gashing against his neck.
The pain was immediate. Ages choked, and although he could feel no blood spill, the sensation of his energy leaking away hit him with the freight of a Guardian's growl.
"What?" Eve cooed.
"You didn't think I'd let myself make the mistake of listening to your insufferable thoughts for a second
time, did you?"
She leaped on top of him with a feral roar. Ethereal claws raked through Ages's clothing and broke his spiritual skin, draining him of energy and filling his body with a negative feeling. "H-hag!" he coughed, the only word he could fathom above the pain. Eve simply laughed, doing her best to tear him apart from his head to his shoulders. From above him, he could hear her flesh squish and tear and reshape, veined and grotesque as she bombarded him with her supernatural strength.
"Oh, how droll! Call me what you like, my dear -- you aren't going to get out of this punishment. Who do you think you are, believing that you have a right to bend nature or curses to your will? Being a descendant of the Arcanist means nothing. In the end, you're still mortal; your little Guardian friend is still cursed; and there is no such thing as a 'cure' for her. She has been selected by the almighty force of the Shade to carry on wicked deeds. Making a mere herbal blend will not salvage her from the vessel she has become."
Ages snarled. The paralysis of his bones sapped away, replaced by simmering rage. He tried to kick Eve off, but with little success. "Still your damn tongue!" Ages snapped. "Doshima is as gentle as they come. I wouldn't care if she carried the tidings of Hell with her; she's my friend and I refuse to let her fall."
"But is she your friend, Ages?" Eve chuckled.
"You always run off to this clearing more or less by yourself. Price hangs out with her far more than you ever did. I wouldn't be surprised if they had become best friends in your negligent absence."
"I'm not negligent of
anything." With a heave and a snarl, he managed to finally throw Eve off of him. His paws trembled and claws shook in and out, impossible to unsheathe fully due to the energy he had expended. As he stood there, his chest heaved and eyes flickered between magenta and deep purple. "Something tells me you have no idea who on Sornieth you're messing with."
Eve tore off some of her own flesh from her head, holding it up like a surprised unibrow above her exposed skull.
"Well, aren't you the little smart-mouth? The irony, here, is that you have no idea who in the Realm Beyond Shadows you
are messing with."
"As if you need any introduction," Ages hissed, looking her darkly in the eye. "You're Eve. You're one of those two ghastly spirits who has been making our lives so hellish."
"Aww, look at you! Maybe you're not as oblivious as I imagined you to be." Eve slapped her flesh back onto her body. It reabsorbed against her, squelching and squishing as bones cracked around it. She tapped a claw to her chin.
"Oh, wait. You still are. Guess whose little fire lighting their cauldron is about to get a heavy dose of magnesium?"
Ages's blood ran cold. His glare fell away, replaced by an expression of pure terror. "You're bluffing," he mumbled. "You-- you have to be bluffing. Do you have any idea how gods-damned dangerous that is?"
"Believe me, sonny, I have every
idea," she drawled.
For the first time in Ages's life, he found himself paralyzed not physically, but mentally. What could he do? A magnesium fire could rip through the whole forest unless it was extinguished with prompt suffocating magic or an immediate dousing of nonreactive minerals. Were there any in the clearing? He couldn't remember. He couldn't just leave on his own volition to warn the others. What could he do?
What could he do?
Was there
anything he could do?
Eve purred, starting to circle around him.
"You can prevent the fate of your friends if you promise me one thing, Ages. It's a simple proposition, one that will help you as well as them achieve their wildest goals. The gods want you. The Arcanist misses his son. Won't you go say hello to your dear father? All it takes is a visit to the afterlife."
Ages! A voice hummed in his ears. It was Barda -- the first child of the gods. He couldn't see her, he could barely hear her, but he could tell that she was desperate to reach him.
You can fight this, Ages. Don't listen to them! They aren't worth it!
Warmth. It was an odd feeling for Ages, whose hands were so often numbed by his work and whose body was so often enduring the elements to continue even through the night. But this was no external warmth, such as one from a warm hug. This warmth embraced him from within, sending a new energy through his heart. His eyes -- the ones who tentatively nudged on the purple end of the color spectrum -- began to glow a brilliant and bright magenta. It was an out-of-body experience: the way he sensed his wings begin to glow with ripples of green which spread across his body in runes along his paws and ears and sides, the way the scars of Eve hardened along his back...
...The way he pinned her down beneath him, smirking down upon her like a creature of vengeance.
"Jac told me something the other day," Ages purred. "Something about a friend of yours telling him the true strength of a Mirror lies in savagery. In winning no matter what the cost is. In using strength to guide me." He leaned in close to her face, his hands glittering green and pink -- a culmination of his wrath and the might of the Arcanist. "If I'm as much of a mortal Mirror as you say I am, and you believe that I should comply by the natural order of things, then I suppose you won't mind if I tore you apart right now, hmm?"
She smirked back at him.
"You're bluffing." Though she projected strength, Ages didn't miss the way her echoey voice trembled.
Ages smirked. "Indeed. I get the feeling we have more in common than you're willing to admit, my decaying sprite; however, there are some key differences between us. You see, unlike you, I don't get off on being an overbearing, self-righteous witch."
Before Eve could pull anything, he let his claws glow and carved a glimmering pink hole through dimensional space right past her head. "Adieu and goodbye," he sang, launching himself through with a boyish laugh.
Little did he know that, upon his re-entry, his glowing body would tumble backwards right into his cauldron.
One magic mixed with another. His body -- supercharged with the energy of the Arcanist and a discovery of other forms of his own inner strength -- made the elixir turn a bright, bright pink. Ages, caught up in his own confidence, realized what was happening a little too late. As much as he struggled, he couldn't stop it.
Barda and Peasley returned just in time to see the explosion of pink tear the alchemy clearing apart.
If anyone had asked Ages what exactly happened during this catastrophe, he wouldn't have been able to provide an answer; the most he could have done was provide a hypothesis based on the destruction that had occurred within the nearby radius. More than half of his glass containers were broken; still others were cracked; the cauldron had massive tears near the top of its otherwise sturdy darksteel rim; and there was a crater where its fire pit used to be, glittering with the dull residue of what was once magnesium.
It was in a daze that Ages realized what had happened to the landscape, and he looked to Barda and Peasley with blurred eyes. Barda had formed a protective, golden shield around her son, who was buried against her chest with a cringe. Once the light subsided, she patted his head and let down her guard. Peasley opened his eyes, locking his gaze onto Ages as his jaw dropped.
Just then, Jac and Hollowmaw rushed into the clearing.
"Is everybody okay?" Jac squeaked, looking around in fright. When his gaze landed on Ages, his jaw dropped to the floor. "...Ages? You... you're...."
"What happened here?" Hollowmaw cut in. He walked between Jac and Ages, his spring green eyes locking onto the younger Mirror.
Barda took a deep breath, stepping forward as well. "Hold on, Hollow. He hasn't even told us if he's all right yet."
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Ages slurred. "But I don't know if my elixir is."
"Magnificent." Barda walked over towards Ages and tugged his ear. He whined as she pulled him to her feet. The Tundra took a deep breath and turned her attention to Jac. "What do you say, Jac-Jac? Think he should go on cleaning duty for this?"
Ages spluttered. "Cleaning duty?"
Hollowmaw made the kind of snort only a Ridgeback could. "This place looks like it got nailed by a hurricane for the first time in
Ages."
Barda almost laughed. "Hollow, please."
"Right, sorry. What do you say, Jac?"
Everyone's eyes landed on the Lightning Mirror. He gulped, looking between them all, his tail slowly curling between his legs. "W-well. I. I, uhh. As alpha... I...." He felt a paw against his upper back. Turning his head, he saw Peasley giving him a gentle, reassuring pout. Even without words, Jac could feel his heart open, along with the floodgates at the corners of his eyes. His sobs ripped through the air, loud and sudden and necessary, and the rest of the clearing looked on at him with shock. "I don't want to give orders! I can't
stand being alpha! I hate it!"
He tugged the crown with all his might. When it refused to budge, he tried again. Barda approached him, the fur on her back rising. "Jac, hold on. I can help--."
As soon as Jac managed to tear it off of his own head, he ended up slamming it onto Barda's.
Hollowmaw broke into an uproarious fit of laughter. Ages rubbed his temples. Barda squeaked, trying to get it off as Jac bawled even harder than before. "Auntie Barda, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it, I--."
"H-hey, calm down," Barda burbled, patting Jac's head before pulling him into a big, fluffy hug. "Easy. I know it was an accident, okay? Take a deep breath. It will be okay."
He whimpered, nuzzling his face into her fur and taking a deep breath. Then, with a whimper, he looked up at her with big, searching eyes. "...Thank you."
She returned his look with a gentle smile. "No problem."
Jac's gaze flitted to his paws for a moment, then to her crown, and then to her face. "Hey... Auntie Barda? Would it be too much for me to ask if you take over as alpha for me? Because I... I never want to do that again. I felt so... stiff. And restrained and unhappy. Not everyone listened to me, and I...." He trailed off. Everyone could tell that he didn't want to say anymore.
With a small purr, Barda groomed Jac's forehead a little, pulling back so that they could look at one another a little better. "I understand. Being alpha can be difficult. I was only leader once, for a little while, and it was... a lot of work, I'll admit." She tilted Jac's chin up. "So don't feel bad, all right? I'm sorry you were dragged into that. If ever you want to try your paw at being alpha again, please let me know; but even if you're never ready, that's fine. You did a good job." She nuzzled his forehead. "And I'm proud of you."
Jac's tears started again, this time accompanied by a wobbly smile. He nestled against Barda's chest, babbling between incoherent and happy sobs. Hollowmaw and Peasley shot each other a pleased look, while Ages attempted to wriggle his way past the hugging duo and towards the main clearing.
Before he could get by, a furry tail curled around his waist. Ages yeeked, looking over his shoulder to see Barda shooting him a golden smirk.
"Ah, ah, ah," she hummed, a light, playful edge to her voice. "It's wonderful that you got your marks, but you made an awful mess of the place. Rest up, Ages. My first order as alpha is for you to clean the camp tomorrow."
A million thanks to @Meonox and @Lae for donating one or more genes for Ages and Eve respectively! These Mirrors look even more incredible now! :) Also, thank you Meonox for all the items up to and including the accent, and thank you Lae for all of the lovely things after! Your letters will also be answered soon!
In terms of multiples, I got five Health Potions.
Starting tomorrow, Barda will take over as alpha of the locke.
I'm sorry that this part took as long as it did to come out today. One of my friends needed comfort after one of her cats passed away not long after the first part was uploaded. I tried my best to find time in the cracks to write this entry. It was quite stressful to do so, and I still have a lot of homework to do tomorrow; as a result, I may end up taking a rain check on Sunday's update and add to Tainted Eden
on Monday instead. I hope you all understand.
@tahwarts: That's a great ship name for them, oh my goodness. "Maramaw." I'm happy you've been enjoying the character development, but I just adore that. XD Unfortunately, Talstae isn't quite alpha yet, but I get the feeling she will be someday....
Meonox: I'm sorry! It had to be done in order to make the scene appropriately epic. Mara is looking forward to the letters, should you choose to send them. :) Also, I just took a peek at those little babies -- they're both super cute, Crackle and all!
@OverTheWolf: I do it to torture you. ;) I'm sorry.
Starting Funds: 292099
Ending Funds: 288814
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