Fluid - 38

Stepping through the Beastland’s Annex doorway set us in an open sunlit grassland adjoining a woodland. With the threshold’s music no longer obscuring the annex’s energy, it’s far easier to read. Though it’s very close to the Beastland’s symphony, there are enough differences clear while standing in it that the doorway isn’t a direct connection. However, the place is vast, and Resonance doesn’t give me a clue how far out its boundary lies.

On this side, the doors are free-standing with no sign of what they attach to, and Nanoĸ lets them close behind us. They shimmer slightly out of phase with the dimensional energy around us but are still in sync with the Material Plane, so touching the handle isn’t a problem.

“How did you do this by accident?” asks Nanoĸ, and he motions with his shield hand as if the ‘this’ he was talking about was in doubt.

“It’s possible that while I was struggling to survive, at least one higher power intervened for reasons completely their own,” I reply. “They can’t touch the Material Plane directly, but we’re not on it now.”

“You’ve got experience dealing with divine beings?”

Given what he knows about Myrto, the stupidity of that question earns him a frown. “Is that one of your questions? Because if you use them frivolously, I will answer fewer questions.”

Nanoĸ shakes his head. “No, I should have remembered that Myrto and Irene said they met Hestia because of your involvement.”

“Your first reaction seems to default to aggressive scepticism,” I note. “Have you found that a necessary survival trait while an adventurer, or was it something you adopted young?”

“Why would a Human Goddess have anything to do with a Taurë?”

Waving a scolding finger, I deliberately ruin the effect with a grin. “I told you to take your time thinking up questions. The question time comes later; first, I’ll set up some pylons here, and then we can sweep around a perimeter a few kilometres out. I’ll make two loops at a three-kilometre separation; then I’ll extend one direction to see how much space we’ve got.”

A breeze has the wild energy of the place sweep across us, and while Nanoĸ shivers, I find the stark contrast with my preferences invigorating. I’d almost slipped up with Selene, but I don’t attempt to keep the energy in check this time. Even in the sunlight, I spot the colour shift with the glow from my eyes washing his skin.

The electrifying leaps within his song go along with his widening gaze.

“What are you?” whispers Nanoĸ, taking a half step back.

“Gailneth, an Anar Elf; my elven species isn’t native to Vehtë. That’s part of what has the Andúnë nobles going crazy about my presence,” I admit and watch his jaw drop. “There you go, free answer to questions you’ve not even asked. That’s the last one I’ll answer until you take some time to think. So obviously, I’ve got access to an ability to let me Shapeshift.”

That’s all the warning he gets before I change into a Cat-folk, opting for a mottled tan-grey fur.

Instead of provoking a hostile reaction, Nanoĸ snorts in amusement. “You’re like one of the trickster’s priests.”

Getting compared to one of Loki’s priests has me mewling in protest. Theirs is a power granted by their dedication to a divine being. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but that’s not right. I inherited my ability from my mother. Now to set up the central transfer point.”

The shape of my mouth doesn’t make a difference to the energy within the notes, but it’s still simpler to use Silent Song.

The pylon is a single golden spur rising from the ground a dozen metres from the doorway. When the glow fades away, left behind is a white marble cylinder the width of my forearm that rises to knee height on Nanoĸ. The eight quartz glyphs around its circumference sparkle in the sunlight, and I insert a needle of flawless True Song Crystal into the post’s centre. The better quality of the crystal should support what I’ve got planned for millennia—if the guild even lasts that long.

“What do the marks do?” asks Nanoĸ, his gaze tracing the curve of the notation’s mark.

“Nothing until I create matching destinations,” I say. “I can either set it up so each transfer point lets you go one step further or return along its route. Or I can set it up so they can jump between any pylon.”

Nanoĸ coughs. “You’ve not met enough guild members; I’d suggest making it as simple as possible.”

I don’t take a dig at that remark, but it’s tempting.

“Alright, so compromise. Three glyphs on each of those beyond the second ring. First to go a step out, second to return a step, and a third to skip straight here.”

“If others are nearby?”

He’s so tempting me to tease him today; not sure how often I’ve teleported others in the village around. I keep my mouth shut, but my traitorous twitching tail and ears prompt his gaze to narrow.

Clapping my hands down atop my twitching ears stops them from moving, and I grin.

“Don’t start on my ears and tail; they often twitch when I’m in a good mood. My teacher, who handled Stealth and Woodcraft, said I’d never get over being a kitten.”

“Fine, but you’re acting like you rolled in catnip,” retorts Nanoĸ.

“So not true,” I hiss and start singing again.

Adding into the needle, I set a couple of elements and hear it set a key into the Adventurers’ Guild token Nanoĸ carries. As the purely mental illusion manifests, Nanoĸ’s gaze traces towards the sky—what should be a beam of blue light rising from the stone and ending in the guild’s sigil.

“Think that will let people easily spot the locations they’ve found before?”

“It might attract attention from foes,” critiques Nanoĸ, and his feedback is fair, so I’m glad it’s an issue I’ve considered.

“Only adventurers who’ve visited the pylons previously see that illusion. Their tokens establish the link, lose the token, and they’ll have to find the pylons again. They can’t have the token in a storage bag or dimensional device,” I say. “Close up, the white stone will attract attention, but I had to make it reasonably visible; otherwise, people might just walk by it. Next location.”

A brief remote viewing ensures we won’t appear atop a threat.

The Greater Teleport I use sets us safely among the trees and bushes. Nanoĸ gets displaced by a tree positioned where he should have appeared, and I wave at him around its trunk. “That’s what happens if someone is in the way of their arrival.”

“The wood’s canopy gets thick; they might not see the light,”

“The beacon isn’t visible. It’s in your mind; you think you’re seeing it. I’ll make it appear from a half kilometre out. Should I make them touch the pylon or get within five metres for their tokens to get linked?” I clarify.

Nanoĸ keeps watch while I set the next pylon in place, linking its return glyph to the central point.

“A bit of a navigation challenge to find it the first time might be what some individuals need,” advises Nanoĸ, once my work is done. “Still, if one of the pylons gets overgrown, not having to touch it might be useful.”

Nodding, I settle the song in place and get Nanoĸ to use it to return to the first one. Transporting myself, I find Nanoĸ about to press the glyph to jump back out again.

“I was coming,” I laugh.

Nanoĸ grunts and waves towards the woods. “You said to try it out; I thought you meant both ways.”

“Fine, test it out, and then come back here since you want to play,” I say, flicking my tail towards the glyph.

“I think you’re the one having some fun playing with toys,” counters Nanoĸ, and he disappears before I can agree.

He’s quickly back, and we hop about to establish a ring around the central pylon. Getting the first in place and linked to the arrival point doesn't take long. I hear beasts close by several times but steer them away, using illusions to distract them.

Despite the calm, Nanoĸ’s alertness doesn’t diminish, and he reacts fast when we jump further out. A squeal from an unseen source grabs his attention.

The breeze through the long grass takes our scents to a dozing boar too close for my gentle distractions. With the feline scent of my Cat-folk form, it’s justly enraged by the predatory threat. The sound of crushing grass comes as the boar surges to his feet and races towards me. Nanoĸ steps towards the sound, with his shield angled and axe ready. Instead of the song I had planned, I cast a Spell to boost his strength and let him take the lead.

Shoulder height on me, the beast’s tusks ring off the shield’s enchanted steel, gouging only air. Nanoĸ’s last-minute sidestep negates the rest of the impact, and I follow his example of sliding through the grass despite it grabbing at our legs. A coppery scent smacks my nose when Nanoĸ’s retaliation opens a rent in the beast’s flank; the splatter of spraying blood makes it clear it’s not a flesh wound.

Notes weave through the surrounding grass, turning their strands into anchored ropes. With the remaining momentum of his charge, they turn the boar’s attempt to wheel about into a tumble. Leaping to follow, Nanoĸ’s axe comes cleaving down before the boar can even start to untangle itself. His normal strength has frequently shattered through the armour of giant crabs, boosted he decapitates the beast.

“Do you want me to float it up so you can field dress it while I work?” I ask. “Or do you want me to store it?”

“If you’d store it. The butcher’s apprentice has been getting experience dressing kills in Sanctuary’s hall,” admits Nanoĸ.

“Helping the non-adventuring types is good,” I agree.

Though storing the body, I leave the blood behind.

Nanoĸ looks at the pool of blood I’d let slush across the ground with a sigh. “There are dishes that make use of blood.”

“Not any dishes that I plan to eat,” I reply. “Crabs are less mess.”

Ignoring his mocking laugh, I begin the emplacement.

Overall it only takes a few hours to set in place six pylon rings, and we have encounters with a few other beasts. The increasing distance I use between each ring sees the furthest set fifty kilometres out from Sanctuary’s connection, and I still can’t feel the annex’s outer edge. The last set only has two quartz glyphs to make it clear there they won’t find another ring further out. With all the time I've spent here, one mystery I’ve solved; I know the nature of the place.

Thoughtfully tapping my fingers against the surface of the last one causes Nanoĸ to clear his throat for attention. “A hundred-kilometre circle for hunting should be enough for any team that can’t transport themselves. Given you’ve got woodland, streams, ponds, and grasslands, there should also be a heap of herbs available for gathering.”

“I was more wondering how far out it goes,” I explain.

“Any idea what the annex is yet?”

“Yeah, I’ve figured it out. There wasn’t a divine intervention; funnelling the energy the way I did caused a pressure feedback that left a passage in its wake. Think of it as a very long blister, partly in tune with the Plane and partly influenced by my expectations of the guild,” I explain. “If we continue in the direction that Sanctuary’s doorway opens towards, we’d find a boundary region into the Beastlands. Not sure how much further it is or how wide the annex has become.”

“Has become?” asks Nanoĸ, his tone verging on an accusation.

“Well, it didn’t start this wide,” I riposte. “Let’s get back before I decide those are part of your questions. I’ll let you work with Midyåci and Ellother to figure out the best approach to educate the adventurers about the pylons. I’ve got some other things to take care of this afternoon.”

Nanoĸ nods. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Your questions? I thought I’d let you think about them a while longer,” I reply.

He motions up and down. “Your form?”

“I told you I don’t care what I look like,” I say, changing into a male Cat-folk; I alter my outfit into hunting leathers. “Appearance is the last thing I’m ever worried about, Nanoĸ.”

“May Mars preserve me,” utters Nanoĸ.

Teleporting us back to the doorway, I ensure there isn’t anyone around before I respond. “I like him; he’s a nice fellow, far better than nearly any of the Winter Court.”

Leaving a confused Nanoĸ in my wake, I head downstairs, and Sarah’s eyebrows lift as I pass the reception. “Tipping your hand?”

“More like feeling confined by others’ expectations, I thought I’d have a stretch for my sanity’s sake,” I explain, and Sarah just gives me an understanding nod. “I’ve got a Golden Boar for someone to butcher.”

“Taras is in the hall, waiting for returning teams,” advised Sarah.

“I’ve not met him yet,” I say, heading down the corridor to the hall.

The space was initially empty of furnishings as I’d expected them to potentially use it as a training space when more adventurers were in the village. Instead, along its thirty-metre length, they’ve set a series of tables, some of the large ones with tripods next to them for handling large corpses.

At the closest one, a young man is checking knives for damage. His well-calloused hands show the scars from countless minor nicks.

“I thought Pitnari is the only Cat-folk in the village,” the young man says when he looks up.

“Is he? I thought for sure there would be at least one more about,” I say.

“Nah, not at the moment. Heard some say Cat-folk don’t enjoy working in the swamp,” replies Taras, and he holds out his hand. “I’m Taras. Those are nice hunting leathers; what hide is that?”

“Gailneth,” I say and change back to my Wood Elf form while I’m clasping his forearm. "My name, that is, the hide is Chimera."

His eyes immediately snap to my face, and he goes deep red before his eyes dart frantically about the empty hall. Realising he’s still clasping my arm, he lets go of my hand as if he’s going to get slapped. “Sorry.”

“For what? Shaking my hand?” I ask.

“You’re, her ladyship, but you looked like a Cat-folk and male a moment ago. Did I breathe in something funny?” asks Taras, feeling at his throat with his hand as if seeing things that weren’t there would change his skin.

“Relax, Taras. It’s fine; you weren’t forward; I can shift forms, that’s all,” I say, feeling bad about confusing the young man. “Please call me Gail; no one has ever given me a title.”

“I wasn’t imagining it!” exclaims Taras, still wide-eyed.

“No, Nanoĸ was trying to make an issue about appearances, and I was showing how little I care about them.”

“Ahh. What about appearances?”

“I offered to fix his scars, and he’s getting tied up about it,” I huff.

“That sounds dumb. Wait! What were you going to charge him for it?” Taras asks.

Shaking my head, I wave toward reception. “He’s a member of my team. Why would I charge him?”

Taras scratches the side of his face. “I thought Nanoĸ was smart. Isn’t it better to get fancy healing if its available? Shifting forms that way would be cool. Can you change into a Merefolk and swim in the ocean? My cousin does some pearl diving, and she claims to have seen Merefolk near some oyster beds.”

“I can, but not all shapeshifting magics allow that for that,” I advise.

“Not like I’m learning magic. What can I help you with?”

“I’m transporting a kill from the annex for Nanoĸ, a large Golden Boar. It’s already drained of blood with magic, so which table should I put it on?”

Taras motions to the first with a tripod, and I release it and the head from Inventory. He whistles as he looks over the cut through the neck, and when he starts to dress the kill, I leave him to it.

When I reach the reception desk, I find Nanoĸ marking out a guide to the pylons with Sarah. “Has Taras been handling all the butchering himself?”

“Most of it,” advises Sarah, looking up from the book she was reading. “When he needs an extra hand, Midyåci or the others’ help.”

“That’s if the adventurer who killed the beast doesn’t stick around, to help with the mass,” adds Nanoĸ.

“Well, you can give him a hand if you’d like. Maybe I’ll see if Yngvarr has been to any of the Isil communities,” I say to Sarah, though it’s not my plan.

“You’re doing a lot of running around today,” observes Sarah, and I catch her smile twitch.

“I’m not visiting them today, but I’ll find location images for teleporting or long-distance scrying. I’ve got to make time for a representative discussion tonight, and I’ve still got to find time for harp practice,” I say.

Nanoĸ opens his mouth to say something but cuts off when Sarah nods.

“Are you another elven shapeshifter?” asks Nanoĸ.

The question has Sarah erupt in mocking laughter. “No, Nanoĸ, I’m a Dragon.”

“Yeah, right,” retorts Nanoĸ, and he shakes his head in disgust while Sarah continues to laugh. “Fine, I’ll save my questions for Gailneth.”

“You want to go back to the Guildhall or somewhere else?” I ask, trying to hide my surprise at how Sarah’s been so open about her species.

I don’t know if she is preparing for her talk with Gaius or something else. Would telling strangers you’re a Dragon even make it easier to bring up with someone you’ve been intimate with?

“I live near the Guildhall, so that’s fine,” replies Nanoĸ. “One question, and I’ll save my rest until I’ve had time to think.”

I motion for him to spill, but he gives me a blank look. “Okay, go right ahead,”

Nanoĸ brows lift at my acceptance. “Have you learnt anything more about where your key might be? I mean, given all the chats you’ve been having with the elves.”

“No new information from them. Pitnari found me a recent map of the coast. I know what I’m looking for is likely somewhere in the last two hundred kilometres of the peninsula,” I blurt out, and they both look at me in surprise. “That prediction is based on some guesswork about sailing speeds and comparing an ancient sea chart to recent ones.”

“That’s black dragon territory,” cautions Nanoĸ.

“Drats!”

Sarah laughs again, but this time it’s a pleasant sound

I tap the counter to get her attention, but she still doesn’t stop. “Auntie!”

“Such a mouth on you,” chortles Sarah.

“What’s got your mood bouncing about?”

Sarah exhales, and I see tension ease from her shoulders. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my mouth zipped with Aunt Am. You can tell her the results yourself,” I advise.

“Thanks,” drawls Sarah.

I can tell Nanoĸ wants to ask, but he stays quiet long enough that I start to relax, and then he draws breath to speak. I see the curiosity in his gaze and shift us to the Guildhall.

“Lack of warning?” grumbles Nanoĸ.

“You were giving into the temptation to dig for information. You blunder with me often enough, annoy Aunt Sarah, and she might literally bite your head off,” I caution him and disappear.

I’m not even a speck in the sky to those on the ground where I reappear. Though it’s tempting to enjoy the freefall, I transform into an eagle and spread my wings; my clothing and items are stored or transformed into leg bands and ribbons. The form’s eyesight lets me see kilometres ahead, and I start skip-teleporting east. Between wings and teleporting, I'll be in sight of the Isil coastal settlements in no time.

Which technically will give me the images I mentioned to Sarah if she didn’t pick my intent from my thoughts.