The Patron of Feathers could feel her mind beginning to tear at the edges as the process repeated, over and over again. The refuge of her life seemed worn and thin. Even if she had received a gift from Yystrix, one that allowed her to completely immerse herself in her own memories to become oblivious to the passage of time, Faelmac Westrisserâs plan required a weapon that could slay any foe.
No one else could be trusted to this grueling task, because it was an impossible mission to begin with. She couldnât withstand the hopes poured into this working. The Patron of Feathers didnât know how close she was to succeeding, but she knew she wouldnât make it much longer.
Even floating in her memories, she would sometimes black out, waking up several years later, or reborn as a young child as the developments looped without her even noticing. Her heartbeat became strained, the noise echoed in her ears. The demands of her physical body began to drag her attention back as blood began to leak out of her ears, nose, and mouth.
Yet she did her best to close her eyes to those realities. Sputtering now wasnât the worst outcome. She just needed to endure for a bit more time.
So she began skipping through the memories that didnât mean much, seeking those that had caused her to feel strong emotions. She knew that she had worsened her deteriorating condition by hopping around, but only by soaking in her strong emotions could she briefly forget the pain she experienced by maintaining the array within the Dungeon. The wholeness of those feelings could provide her shelter from the growing threat of timeâs passage.
This was one such memory.
It had been at a time that both Elhume and Yystrix had become more active in the wider Nexus. Their sphere of influence expanded as Elhume looked worriedly to the sky and saw how Pineâs soul continued to degrade. They shot out to the different domains of the tyrants that had sprung up in the early Second Cohort, rescuing those they could and planting the seeds of future resistance. They grew in power, sharpening their talents against the monsters allowed into the Nexus in the Second Cohort.
She had even finally been named the Patron of Feathers by the Patron of the Borrowed. Elhume thought it was adorable and began calling her that as well, taking solace in the moniker. And because Elhume called her that name while they performed operations, strangers began referring to her this way as well.
However, both of these facts were just the backdrop to the true strife of that time, at least in the Patron of Featherâs life. Because she had begun taking on more responsibility with the group, because she became one of the apocryphal powerful âPatronsâ she spent much of her time traveling across the land. She spoke to scared refugees fleeing from cataclysm, she appeared before some of the lesser dictators, she negotiated with the owners of mines and timer mills for alternate trade routes.
She took so many steps forward in her life, stepping out from the shadow of the Westrisser name. She crafted her own identity with her own effort and sweat.
But part of the reason she became so integral to the groupâs plans⊠was because she threw herself into the work for a more selfish reason: she couldnât stand to linger in that cabin any longer. The constant bickering between Elhume and Yystrix had become unbearable. Around her adopted parents hum an ominous air that reminded her much of the Westrisser estate. Although their disagreements started with Pine, they had now spread out to cover almost all topics that lay between them.
And then came the little Vulpineâs tenth birthday. Then came this memory, so soaked in overwhelming emotion.
The modern Patron of Feathers briefly blacked out as the day dawned. All the festivities and the uneasy peace between the two âparentsâ were lost in a blur. The cake, the fest friends who attended, the presents⊠all lost to oblivion. But that was fine, the nucleus of the memory happened later, after all the other guests departed.
Because Elhume and Yystrix didnât want to fight on the Patron of the Borrowedâs birthday, they had both shot out on other missions as soon as they could. So the young woman and the young fox were left alone. Two Patrons lay in their pallets and tried to sleep in that quiet cabin. But the Patron of Feathers pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked over at the young Vulpine, its tails twitching in his sleep.
It was easy to forget it now, but she cared about him.
All of the Patron of Featherâs senses sharpened. The details of the memory came into stark focus. Already, she could sense the edges of the dread waiting for her.
âHey.â
When the Vulpine didnât respond, she spoke again and nudged his soft fur. âHeeeeyyyy.â
âWhat is it?â The fox sounded sleepy.
âI⊠Iâve been thinking. That I didnât really get you a present. And the tenth birthday is a big one,â The Patron of Feathers squirmed around in the shadows, moving closer to the smaller Vulpine. She tentatively draped her arm across his shoulders; the young Patron of the Borrowed gladly snugged up against her for warmth. She chewed on her lips as she considered her prepared speech. âNot⊠that I have any particular strength, but I had an idea. What if⊠what if the gift I gave you was a name?â
The Vulpine stilled. He didnât turn to look at her, but even his heart seemed to be frozen in wonder. âYou would do that?â
The Patron of Feathers smiled and stroked his fur. âOf course. Itâs not so difficultââ
She felt the metaphysical tug on her soul. The modern Patron of Feathers began to tremble, but she couldnât look away from the memory. Perhaps her past self had realized what was happening, but at the same time, the presumption of the act took her breath away. The tug came again, losing intensity as she didnât respond to it.
She could have said no. The Patron of the Borrowed didnât yet have enough power to unilaterally take. But it was his birthday. She had said she would give him a name. He was ten years old. She didnât understand, not truly, the powers she had been swept up by.
She assented.
âFiera is a girlâs name,â The Patron of the Borrowed hummed. She could hear his toothy smile of satisfaction as he spoke, even though she couldnât see it in the darkness. âSo Iâll be Fiero.â
â...youâve always been Fiero,â The Patron of Feathers felt hollow when she said it, but it was true. She remembered calling the Vulpine Fiero in the past. And her nameâ
Everything started to blur as the modern Patron of Featherâs mind began to break down.
*****
Randidly watched Elhume and Fiero shoot toward their skyisland. He looked up at the sky and studied the flows of significance. So long as he started soon, he shouldnât need to worry about the impending defining forced by modern Elhumeâs interference. He glanced over and down at the confrontation between the Cult of the Savior and the Nether forces brewing.
What will happen down there, I wonder?
His Fateset buzzed in glee. Randidlyâs lips pulled back to show his teeth. Although the only different character in this version of the memory was him, although admittedly he was a pretty influential player at this point, he had a feeling that the outcome of the various meetings would be quite different. New possibilities would be opened.
The regret inherent in the memory would find an outlet, after all this time.
â...you know, when you have such a smile on your face, sitting on your floating island and waiting for two challengers to approach, it really makes it look like
we
are the bad guys,â Devick muttered. When Randidly blinked and turned to her, she raised her hands. âN-n-not that this is a bad thing! I have evil impulses all the time! But you usuallyâŠâ
Randidlyâs expression turned serious. He nodded slowly as he considered the implications of her words. âHonestly you are right. Iâve always considered myself the challenger. But right now⊠with the plan Iâm making⊠with what I hope to accomplishâŠâ
He fell silent as he sank into his Soulspace. He moved past the Songstress of Absence who slowly sharpened herself after binding memory to reality and the Dread Homunculus who prowled constantly in the dark corner of his soul parsing apart the contradictory strands of fate. Randidly arrived before his first image, Yggdrasil and looked up at it. He breathed in its warm, life-giving air.
But a power like this didnât always just need to be a nurturing support.
âItâs been hard on you, hasnât it?â He said quietly as he looked up at the towering tree trunk with the brilliant emerald canopy. Gold lines glittered across the surface of the branches, a hidden story that spoke to the origin of the world. âYou are a tree. You dig in deep roots. Yet Iâve always mobilized you to fight as the challenger against my foes. Well⊠not this time. World Tree, dig in your roots to this place. Spread your canopy. Today, letâs grasp a seat of power and
dominate
.â
The canopy rustled, the slightest whisper of surprise. The tree shivered as it understood his intentions.
Then Yggdrasil manifested in all its glory, sitting atop the sky island. Its roots didnât physically dig down through the ground, which had been thoroughly covered with his Engravings. Instead they swam in and out of existence, an impossible network of veins. After forming a knot in the middle of the skyisland, erecting the massive tree to a more towering monolith above the confrontations, thinner varietals of the roots stretched down and sank into the ground of the memory. These drilled deeper and deeper, finding energy to draw from the ground.
âHoly shit,â Devickâs eyes widened as she looked up at the intensifying image. Flickering golden mists danced in the air around them as the environment fully came under Randidlyâs thumb.
Randidly rolled his shoulders as his image continued to change. In the end, it was inevitable that it be slightly awkward at first to manifest Yggdrasil in a different manner than he usually used it. Or rather, after becoming accustomed to relying on its potent energy rather than its history and accumulation to strike at his enemies. So when he dug a foundation and allowed the World Tree to truly establish itself in space, the sensation felt unfamiliar. It was like stretching a long ignored muscle.
Randidly did, however, understand how to utilize the flood of disdainful power that filled him.
Congratulations! Your Skill the First Tree Suffers Only Fealty (P) has grown to Level 989!
âŠ
Congratulations! Your Skill the First Tree Suffers Only Fealty (P) has grown to Level 994!
The flight path of Elhume and Fiero wavered as they neared. But the two pushed forward through the growing dominance of Yggdrasil in the area. Randidlyâs smile curled upward at the edges. Devick hopped from one foot to the other, adjusting to the energy and throwing out some playful jabs in the air.
When they landed at the edge of the skyisland, Randidly spoke. âYou didnât learn your lesson when I ripped off your arm? Why have you come, Elhume?â
âYou⊠you really dare ask me that, when you have caused such chaos here?!?â Elhume gritted his teeth and clenched both of his fists. However, the arm that should have been removed hummed with a horrifyingly sharp sense of absence. Randidlyâs eyes narrowed as he looked at that limb, then he glanced to Fiero and back to Elhume. Of all the jagged images that made up the current Elhume, the sharpest came from that replaced limb.
Randidly could also see that Fieroâs right arm was weakened and freshly regenerated. He clicked his tongue, beginning to have an idea about the annoying capability of the Patron of the Borrowed.
A lot of the strange adjustments of the memory were, in fact, Fiero being treated differently, right?
Randidly pursed his lips.
Looking at the messy and disappointing state of Elhumeâs image⊠he didnât make it to the Pinnacle on his own. Could he bridge the final gap by allowing Fiero to âborrowâ the weaknesses in his imageâŠ? So then, maybe I donât need to brute force the issue after allâŠ
The Engraving built on the skyisland had been premised on the fact that Randidly would need to reach the Pinnacle even by roundabout means. Through a complex interaction between the Engraving and his growing understanding of time. But if he could just drive Elhume to that pointâŠ
While Randidly adjusted his mentality, Elhume continued to speak. âIf it wasnât enough that you hijacked the creation of humanity to your own ends, twisting the Patron of the Deep to your side, do not think I have missed how your selfish rituals aim to alter the fabric of the Nexus. As the father of Pine⊠I cannot allow you to run wild like this.â
âDid I really twist the Patron of the Deep?â A hint of genuine anger flared through Randidlyâs considerations. Yggdrasil swelled above their position, its influence deepening with every second. âOr was I simply the only individual present who didnât want to kill him?â
Congratulations! Your Skill the First Tree Suffers Only Fealty (P) has grown to Level 997!
In the face of Randidlyâs cutting accusation, Elhume just blinked. âWhat are you talking about?â
Randidly felt a lurch of surprise, because he could feel the genuine befuddlement from Elhume. He probably would have hung there for several seconds, trying to understand what he had missed, had Fiero not opened his mouth and said in a harsh voice. â...donât be distracted. If we donât act now-â
âIndeed,â Elhumeâs expression sharpened. Without further discussion, he planted his feet and accelerated forward.