Irwin's Journey 508: Tentacles

Jieldenis quietly stared at the last of her failed experiments. A man who'd at one point been tall, carded, and powerful. Well, for his species, that was. Perhaps as powerful in a one-on-one frontal confrontation as a thousand-year-old Guidar. His body was mangled, dried blood staining every part of his emaciated body.

"So, there goes the hope that a four-soulcarded with stability runes can withstand the fluctuations," she said, shaking her head. Not that this had been an experiment she'd put much hope in. Back during the war, she'd been able to capture the occasional four-carded Galladin, and the result had been the same.

There was no response to her verbal complaining, nor had she expected one. Those who might have tried to respond, the two Chained minions who had returned the body from where it had exited the Exit Portal, had left hours ago. 

The only other person currently present?

Jieldenis glanced at Mozarath, who was staring dully at the body as if confused about what it was doing here.

"I presume you don't have anything to add to this failure?" she asked, purposefully making it sound like it was his fault.

Mozarath blinked slowly, then looked at her. "No, Jieldenis," he said, showing no reaction, not even to the blame.

"Of course you don't," she snapped, holding his eyes, wishing for at least some reaction: a hidden glimmer, some depth in his eyes, a worried looking away. There was nothing.

It's as if he is actually getting worse. Perhaps I fooled myself into thinking he was going to return to how he was with enough time?

She shook her head, turned, and walked out of her experimentation room. "Clean up that mess!"

--

Mozarath waited till the door closed, then he walked to the dead soulcarded. He was careful to remain as dull as he was before. Jieldenis sometimes changed her mind and returned for a quick extra test. Not that it would matter now.

Fool she's become. What a waste of time, he thought, picking up the soulcarded and carrying the lifeless body to the metal container surrounded by runes. To him, the curved lines exuded a sharp, volatile danger, but he knew that as long as he didn't put his arm in it, nothing would happen. Besides, he wasn't going to toss it into the runic-disintegrator.

Using his senses to make sure the bitch hadn't returned, he pulled the remains into his soulscape, the price of all of the skills he'd ever absorbed, and the thing that made him unique. 

Well, the third thing, he thought, wishing he could smirk or flaunt his skills, but knowing that the risk was too great. 

The sense of desire lasted for only a moment, then his newfound clarity returned.

Dammit, why can't they continue unchaining those other Shaidin? he thought, turning around to continue cleaning the bloodied experimental room. There were more bodies, but he didn't bother moving any into his soulscape. They were useless. Besides, if the runic-incinerator didn't show use of some kind, Jieldenis would become suspicious.

It took only a short while to finish, but when he did, he remained behind. He had done the cleaning faster than he would have had he still been mind-addled, and this was the only place he dared take some risks. Jieldenis trusted nobody but herself and him in here, a thing he approved of, if not just for the fact that it gave him a short amount of time alone.

He sat down on the experimental table and closed his eyes. A moment later, the thing the carded called their soulspark appeared within his soulscape. 

His soulscape. It sounded grander than it was.

A few square miles of barrier-surrounded wasteland. Empty, save for a single construction. A small building he'd made eons ago. The dusty, hollowed-out basin he knew should be a soullake was empty and dry, no heartcard hanging over it because he had none. Still, as pathetic as the space was compared to what many carded were capable of, he wasn't complaining.

He floated to the gorge he'd made beside the house, a long dugout now filled with bones and bodies in different states of decay. He focused on the newest one. Even malnourished as it was, the body had massive shoulders, and alive and standing, would have towered over him.

"One of the Fiz'rin," he said, relishing the ability to talk without having to mind his words. "Probably a cardsmith. Four soulcarded. Dead for about ten hours, which matches with the time it took to return him from the planet through the exit portal corridor and Jieldenis's final checks."

As he spoke, he used his lack of control over his soulscape to float the body up. It cost more power than he'd like, but until he was fully completed, it would have to do.

He spread the senses gifted by a skill he knew every one of his people would kill to obtain and focused on the almost broken connection within the body. 

It's still there, he thought, excitement growing. He'd picked all of the strongest bodies so far, but none had the connection remaining. This one, however, was a full soulcard stronger than the previous one, and apparently, that was enough?

Feeling a trickle of hope, he crushed it instantly.

Useless emotion, he thought.

Still, he hesitated. It wasn't the first time he'd attempted this, nor the tenth, or even the hundred. He'd captured so many Galadin eons ago that he had lost count, but he'd never managed to do what he wanted.

This isn't a Galadin, he told himself.

Steeling himself for the backlash likely to come, he pushed forward, trying to enter the connection.

He expected the instant rejection and repulsion that had always happened when he'd done the same with a Galadin. Pain, tearing. Then the long wait to recover his mind to what it was now.

None of that happened. Instead, his senses spread through the connection.

"No mental defenses," he exclaimed, feeling the hope rush back. 

Knowing he had little time, he pushed forward. It was squeezing through a tube with cracks in it, and occasionally, he felt his soulforce presence snag on an edge. Painful, but he didn't care. He'd had more pain over his long existence than even most of his own kind could fathom.

As he pushed forward, he realized that the tiny connection wasn't unlike what he'd been told of Exit Portal corridors. That meant that what he was experiencing was something no other Guidar had. Well, except for when he and the other first ones moved through the World Portal, but from the little he recalled of that long period, it had been a horribly painful and confusing experience. 

The corridor started to crumble around him, and he tried to hurry, pulling from his limited soulforce to extend his senses forward faster. It was a painful and slow process, but after a few minutes, he got a sudden sense of poking through something. Instantly, a blurry image of a soulscape that was breaking apart at the edges appeared in his mind's eye.

A soulscape… another one!

He barely held back a shout of joy, instead quickly examining what was happening. He had no idea how much time he had, but it likely wouldn't be enough to get all he wanted.

"About twelve miles across," he said, sensing some of the remnants of the soulcards that had powered the likely majestic place till only a few days ago. Scanning them, he frowned. "Unpure metal control, lots of limited body improvements, and some weapon summons."

He sniffed in disgust. Useless skill and cards. Why these fools didn't understand how to actually use their amazing soulskill was beyond him. He ignored the soulskill remnants to focus on the important thing, the quarter-filled soullake. It was far bigger than his own, which only made the amount of liquid soulforce he felt in it more amazing.

He reached out through the connection, ignoring the pain of having the crumbling corridor press against his own soulforce, and pulled on the liquid, purified soulforce. It shuddered, then a thin stream broke away from the otherwise flat surface, floating towards his soulforce presence. He guided it into and through the corridor, pushing as hard as he dared.

All around him, the barriers of the soulscape had begun shattering like glass. The primal chaotic soulforce beyond slowly flowed inside, destroying everything it touched. 

He had to hurry, and he risked pushing further. 

Finally, just as the chaotic soulforce reached halfway into the soulscape, the first drops of the liquid soulforce dripped into his own dry soullake. The reaction was instant, a flood of new power rushing through him, and the speed of dripping sped up, which caused the power both and the speed to increase.

Within minutes, liquid soulforce sprayed into his soullake at high pressure, but at the same time, he felt the primal chaos rush closer.

When it was a minute from reaching the lake, Mozarath pulled back through his connection, no longer caring that he destroyed the corridor between the soulscape and the body as he did. Even then, he barely reached his own soulscape when the corridor shattered. 

The body before him showed no reaction as the connection to the soulscape that it had been connected to for likely a few hundred years was separated. Mozarath cared nothing for that. He dropped the body down without hesitation as his tiny glowing soulspark shot toward the now almost full soullake that sat in the center of his soulscape. He didn't feel any change to his surroundings, but he didn't care, because something was happening. Something he'd never thought would be possible.

A powerful connection was growing between his own soulskill and the soulscape, and it felt like the pulsing lake of soulforce was drawing his soulskill inside, out from wherever it normally resided. He could sense the drain it was on his soulscape, however, and he knew that the liquid soulforce he had would finish before the process did. Still…

"If it moves in here… maybe I can increase it to a worldskill," Mozarath hissed, ideas forming rapidly. 

He hesitated, then, with regret, moved himself back into his body. It took a lot of effort to return his face to the placid nothingness that it had been in before, his eyes dull, but he managed. As he did, he felt his mind shudder from what he'd put it through, and he felt a snarl form.

I need to find a way to leave here, he thought. Kill those Shaidin that exist, and find more of these beings.

He thought about the body that still resided in his soulscape. A Fiz'rin? He'd have to learn which branch Jieldenis had managed to find and then head there. Perhaps he could find other species that had no mental defenses, but that was a gamble. No, what he had to do was find more of these fire elementals.

How am I going to get her to leave her silly experiments, he thought, walking out of the experimentation chamber.

--

Irwin kept holding his breath as he looked around the area around the exit portal of Scour. The bodies he'd left there had begun decomposing, trickles of yellow and dark smog flowing from them, slowly forming a dense layer high at the top of the barrier.

'Kid, you need to do something about this before you leave,' Ambraz grunted.

Irwin nodded, already pulling from his soulforce. 

The long session of reforging had left him more drained than he wanted, but not enough to prevent him from making his first soulcards flame appear around him in a shroud that rapidly expanded outwards. As soon as it touched the first of the small, shadowy Oculithar corpses that lay around, the body started melting, then steaming. For a moment, Irwin feared he would cause a layer of steaming liquid to remain, but then the liquid began bubbling and rapidly dissipating. 

With a flex of his soulforce, he expanded the fire to cover a massive area around him. Not enough to reach all of the bodies, but enough.

Ambraz remained quiet as he began destroying the decomposing bodies, and only when he finished with all but a few that lay on the edges did he speak again.

'So… Are you going to set out right away or head back in to double-check?'

Irwin glanced at the portal above him, then shook his head. A part of him automatically looked at where his other body was, and he felt a tiny twitch of surprise when he noticed the time for his other body was passing faster instead of slower. He had pulled part of his otherself towards him, enough for it to be unable to go full autonomous, and with a final hesitation, he split back up into two selves. 

With an odd speediness to it, his other self appeared in his body in Eluathar. It sat upright, and Irwin watched and sensed how his otherself moved up just as the door almost flashed open. A tiny bolt crossed the room, hugging him. For a moment, he joined his otherself in reveling in the simple joy of knowing he'd be able to remain with his family for the foreseeable future.

Well, part of me anyway, he thought, as he looked in the direction he knew he'd have to go. 

He and Rindiri had prepared their route, but the place he looked most forward to was their first stop, where they would use the Caldera. 

'Let's get out of here,' he said, clicking his tongue and shooting across the soundwaves.

For the next few hours, he kept flicking in and out of the soundwaves, clicking his tongue or flicking his fingers to continue forward. Only when he left the branch structure of which Scour was a part to move to a longer one that would lead to another large section did he stop, appearing on a large flat chunk of rock that lay forgotten on the bottom of the barrier. It was one of a few he'd come across, showing just how much the enormous storm, which to him felt like ages ago, had wreaked havoc on their section of the portal gallery.

'I wonder how they did it,' he thought, something he'd not pondered for many years now.

'However they did it, it's likely they can't do it again,' Ambraz grunted. 

Irwin hummed, looking around the few hundred feet wide corridor and the seemingly endless path forward. There was barely any stone beside the section he stood on, and he frowned as he looked around. It had to mean there was something back then that had kept the barrier up to prevent the rock and soil from vanishing in the primordial chaos. Still, his soulforce senses told him there was no portal here, so unless one had been here before and been destroyed, something else had been responsible. 

I'll probably never find out, he thought.

He took a deep breath of the stale, cold air. Ahead, the ambient soulforce was becoming thin, and he knew he'd have to travel for over two weeks until he reached an area that was warm enough for all but him to be fine.

There was nothing around him, and although he sensed Rindiri, Blade, Brecka, Hilbarin, and Pur'am chatting within his soulscape, as long as he didn't focus on it, he felt alone. 

It had been so long since the last time that he realized he didn't really mind it. Knowing that he could focus on his family at any moment, or on his current crew, likely helped, but he also realized something else. He'd been feeling stifled on Scour even more than he had thought. It wasn't just the time dilation either. Now that he was as alone as he knew he'd be for a long time, he felt his thoughts clear up, his mind almost expanding to fill the emptiness instead of feeling compressed by the constant presence of others. 

Part of it was because his soulforce senses were spread out freely instead of being reined in without being flooded by a constant barrage of soulforce signals, but he also knew it was because he'd missed this. Heading out instead of staying put. Being on the move.

I guess this is what Greldo feels most of the time, he thought.

Thinking about his friend whom he hadn't seen in many years, he focused on the distance ahead. Slamming his hands together in a way that was both useful for the loud boom and cathartic, he shot forward for what would be the first of many long trips.

I wonder how the harbor portals along the way will be, he thought.

--

Greldo leaned back, weary to the bone. A few stones poked in his back, while the wind brought the stank of swamps and rotting vegetation around him. He didn't care about either right now. Even the physical transformation into a sort of Shadow Hound couldn't keep him standing for any longer.

I'll get killed if I fall asleep here, he thought, forcing the lethargy away and pushing himself up on his elbow. 

Three larger shadow oculithar lay splayed across the planes of red-rock a short distance away.

"I know," he grunted, answering Coal's mental message. With some difficulty, he pushed himself back up, feeling how the wounds he'd sustained pulled slightly. He knew they would heal, and faster if he moved into the shadowrealm, but for now, he just felt like crap. 

Around him, Coal and his surviving eleven shadow clones stood in a semi-circle. A few hundred yards away, mudballs sprawling dark forests of brown, orange, and yellow-leafed trees stuck out against the pale red dusty ground. On the contrary, its perpetual shadow-turned side loomed dangerously. Even without trying, he sensed the movements within it, beings that shouldn't -hadn't- been there, searching around for things to eat. He knew they couldn't sense him now that he had suppressed his presence in the shadowrealm, and he agreed with Coal. 

"Let's head back home," he said, glaring at the corpses. He was about to flow away when he stopped, cocking his head, eyes widening in disbelief, "Really?"

Suppressing a wave of excitement, he ran to one of the corpses and, ignoring the dark, corrosive blood, began slashing into it with his thick, razor-sharp nails. He wished he could summon his blade, Scion of the Naicht, to speed it up, but that wasn't a risk he was willing to take. Every time either he or Daily brought out their blades, it had worked like a beacon to the shadow oculithar. Right now, he didn't have the energy to fight another.

Half a minute of disgusting work, one of his nails ticked something hard that wasn't bone. Pushing further, he felt a squarish shape, and with a toothy grin, he pulled a card out of it. Flipping it over, he almost dropped it as he saw the dark, shadowy tentacle on the image.

"Seriously… we finally find a card, and it shows one of their tentacles?" he growled, glaring at the card before wiping it on his ruined pants and pocketing it. "Let's go and show Dahlia. Perhaps it's better than it looks."

Coal howled softly, and the two of them ran to the distant forest. As soon as they reached one of the shadows, they vanished, leaving behind the corpses and the clones that were spreading out across the plane, finding small shadows to hide in.

--

Greldo slowed down as he reached Hammerblade Town. When they had reached it, a group of Scaledmonkeys had made it their home, but it had been their best option. He couldn't keep the few hundred survivors in his shadowrealm, because the more he was in there, the more of the shadow oculithar attacked them. So, instead, they had cleared out the Scaledmonkeys, repaired the walls and buildings, and expanded it to house everyone. 

That was over two years ago.

The town had grown beyond its boundaries, with large farm fields surrounding it and card-crafted towers in a circle around it. Without nighttime, the perpetual sun caused the plants to grow rapidly, especially with the few Viridian plants and tree-shapers that they had. Add to their crops the large amount of meat he, Coal, and Gloom hunted. Food was plentiful.

Sadly, so were the attacks.

Flying to the nearest shadow, he pondered if he should stretch it to reach the tower, then thought better of it. He appeared on the dark red grass and began running towards the tower. 

A shout from ahead showed the guard had seen him.

Greldo didn't stop but continued ahead, passing the tower with a wave before speeding up across the slightly rocky path that led through two of the fields. 

The Petriberries are growing well, he thought, glancing at the six-foot-high berry bushes on either side of him. 

It took him a few minutes to reach the town, and once there, he stepped back into the shadows. He ignored the people moving around, most looking healthy but worried, their perpetual state nowadays, and made his way to his own house, the same one he and Dahlia had lived in the first time they had been here. It had been expanded, however, and he moved into the new bottom floor.

A shadowy smithy was only lit by the roaring smithing fire, while the deep clanking of metal against metal resounded throughout. Dahlia, his heartbond, stood before a silvery anvil, striking a large chunk of metal which was rapidly flattening. 

She looked up before he could step out, and he grinned as he did. Of all those he could jumpscare, his heartbond wasn't one of them. Not since Irwin had created her shadow heartcard.

"You look like crap."

"That's good. It matches how I feel," Greldo said, walking forward and giving her a quick kiss. "There were three, and all of them were bigger than the others we have found. One at least twice the size."

Dahlia had stopped hammering, now looking up at him. When he didn't continue, she frowned.

"There's something else…?"

"Can't even give you a surprise," Greldo said, fishing the amethyst-bordered card from his pocket. "One of them finally dropped a card."

Dahlia's eyes widened as she snatched it from him, then grimaced. 

"That doesn't look good," she muttered, flipping the piece of ore from the silvery anvil and putting the card in its place. "Juul, can you see what it does?" 

The silvery anvil let out a high-pitched hum, and a moment later, a paper appeared beside the book. It glowed blue, then letters appeared on it. 

Greldo leaned forward to read what it said.

Card: Shadowy Tendril

Type: Summon, Shadow, Amethyst

Owner: -

The owner of this card can summon a tentacle from a shadow. Size depends on the origin-shadow and the soulforce of the user.

Passive: Increased Agility and Endurance

Active: Summon Shadowy Tendril

"Ugh… Please tell me you can't reforge that to become Summon Shadow Oculithar?" he asked. 

Dahlia didn't react, staring at the card, eyes narrow, lips pursed.

"Dahlia?"

"Probably. I would have to reforge it to at least Emerald."

"Perhaps you shouldn't?" Greldo said, staring in disgust at the card. He'd never really had the feeling a card was bad, but as he looked at the card and recalled the Oculithar, he felt this one might be.

"Grel, you do realize that the summon would be bound to the one who slotted it, right? Just like with Coal. It's not like other Shade Hounds are any better. They also attack and kill on sight," Dahlia said, still not looking up as she kept staring at the card.

"Maybe," Greldo said, knowing he probably sounded as uncertain as he felt. "But Shade Hounds are at least intelligent. These Shadow Oculithar? They feel like mindless Addled."

"I wonder if that's because they are too small and young," Dahlia said.

Greldo grimaced as he remembered what Irwin had told him about the giant Oculithar he'd encountered a few times. According to him, one had felt almost sentient.

"Well, I'm not going to slot it, that's for sure," he said.

"Me neither," Dahlia said slowly, and Greldo was incredibly happy when he heard the certainty in her words. "I'm still more interested in a Chaos Whale."

Greldo nodded, knowing she wasn't the only one. Irwin had talked about the same thing numerous times in the past, as had many cardsmiths. The idea of having a summon that could help generate soulforce for a cardsmith, and their Ganvil had many highly interested in it.

"So, are we going out to search for more survivors then?" Dahlia asked as she stretched, causing some pops in her back.

Greldo let his gaze roam over her body and her long, dark-golden, almost-black hair. A soft cough made him look up from her lower body parts to see her raise an eyebrow above her silvery eyes. 

"Yes, we can go and search Graboul's Teeth for a bit. But not too long, last time Koudi was really upset with us!"

"Well, it's not like the time dilation is as powerful as it was," Dahlia snorted, walking towards him and probably 'accidentally' sashaying as she did so, her hips moving from left to right, making her leather smith's apron flick with it.

Greldo rolled his eyes as he walked into her embrace.

"Still think it's because of those Shadowy Oculithar," he muttered.

"No, it's that titan sliver," Dahlia said, biting his neck.

Greldo didn't counter her but picked her up.

"Bath," he ordered. "Then continue!"

"Continue in the bath?" Dahlia asked.

"Accepted!"

--

Irwin stopped on a large chunk of rock, ice crystals cracking under his feet as his breath caused a massive plume. He was still a week from his first stop and hadn't planned to stop until then, but apparently not everyone agreed.

'Is that… a ship from the Sarudock's First fleet?'

Ambraz was quiet for only a moment before a wave of confusion flowed from him.

'What's left of it! What is that thing doing over here? It would take half a year to get here at its speed.'

Irwin didn't know how to answer it, but he saw both heat signatures moving aboard the heavily damaged vessel, while his senses told him there were four dozen people on board, most with a single soulcard. One signature stood out as having two, and it felt… odd.

'We can't really leave them here,' Ambraz grunted. 'I can sense at least one Ganvil.'

Irwin's eyebrows shot up as he tried to detect what Ambraz was, but failed.

'Don't bother. It's hiding next to that two soulcarded one.'

'Smiths?'

'Feels like it,' Ambraz said, though he sounded uncertain.

'Then let's go and see what is going on,' Irwin replied, as his otherself warned Rindiri, Breck, and the others.