The Flesh is (Not) Weak [007-008]

[FIRST][PREVIOUS][NEXT]

[007 It’s been ages]

“Sir knight will not let us head out, Sybil. Not while his familiar’s still being repaired. Calm down.”

“But we have to-.” She grumbled.

“The cave’s going nowhere.”

Damon remained seated, quietly observing the two argue.

“The gaper will have its rebirth soon. We should move before that.”

“And who stays protecting the village?” Handrondi crossed his arms.

“It’ll only be a day or four.”

“And if it rains?”

Sybil’s back straightened, her face hidden behind the cowl and hood, but it was clear she was hesitating. “It’s different now.”

“Is it? We didn’t come here for anything regarding Janus. That would be secondary to our goal.”

“I…”

Damon mocked a cough, startling the other two out of the deadlock of half-glares. They both jumped, clearly having forgotten he’d been right there. “If it isn’t too much to ask. I’d like to know more about the user guide? I'll rest up after that. You obviously have your own things to deal with.”

Sybil wavered, glancing between the two before speaking up. “I’ll go talk with the knight and her daughter about the cave. We need more information about where Damon woke up.” She declared, turning to leave.

Handrondi didn’t move to stop her, letting out a grimace when the door closed. “She… has her own situation to handle.”

“I’m not interested in prying into another’s private affairs.” Damon said. “And though I appreciate the help you guys have given me, I’d rather not have to rely on your hospitality too much.”

“You’re a user, don’t even have your first graft. You’ve killed monsters just like the rest of us, we can’t just throw you to the pits.” Handrondi spoke with a stern inflection. “Looking for the chance to toss you out the door would be exactly that.”

Damon withheld the grimace. “I can appreciate the sentiment. And… though I can respect the whole monster killing business, I’d rather get back home as soon as I can.”

“It is a reasonable wish, and I will help if I can.” He spoke the words with a slight bow of his head. “However, the original intention why Sybil and I came here was to hunt a lord.”

Damon nodded, prompting Handrondi to continue.

“Lords are special kinds of monsters. If you want to find a graft core, they are your best chance.”

“And you willingly choose to get more grafts, like the ones on your arms.”

“You seem uncomfortable.”

“It’s been a very long day, mister Handrondi. Lots to take in.” He shook his head.

“I can’t be much older than you, just call me Han.” He nodded as he spoke. “I think the conversation got a little out of hand. You wanted to know about the user guide?”

“The crash course of it at least.”

“Why would you want to crash?”

“It’s… it’s an expression. It means a shortened version.”

Han frowned and nodded. “The user guide is the touch of knowledge of the Goddess’s gift users. It allows them to identify monsters and keep track of their accomplishments. But most importantly, it lets you attune and tweak your grafts.”

“Which I don’t have.”

“Have you checked? Ask it for your user details.”

“Uh… show user details.”

[…]

User: Damon Wright

Species: Human

Hunter Points: 7

Survival Points: 8

Design Points: 0

PvP Points: 8

Upgrades: None

Familiars: None

Contacts: [None]

[…]

“It says I have no upgrades. Can I control this without talking to it?”

“Then your skeleton is not a graft?” Han deflated slightly at that, the disappointment clear. “And… yes, to control the user guide, you can use your hymn to-.” He went quiet. “Hm. That might be problematic. You should be able to use gestures.”

Damon waved his hands through the user details window. “Nothing’s happening.” A slight pause. “What about maps?”

“Maps?”

“How does the map function work?”

“The user guide can store images, but you would need a special skull graft upgrade to use it for mapping.”

“Store images?”

“Yes, you only need to…” Han became quiet, lips pursing. “This is turning out to be harder than I had expected.”

“… hymn again?” The question prompted him to nod. “I’ll be honest, I’ve got a feeling my user guide isn’t working the way yours does. It keeps throwing gibberish words all over. Like when I defeated the monsters, the names it used were illegible.”

That was when Han’s eyes widened. “Oh. I’ve heard about this before! Your axon is likely an ancient one. Maybe one from the age of heroes.” Shifting in his seat, the smile mellowed when he noticed Damon silently staring. “Right. The basics. Originally, the number of users changed very little because no one knew how to make new axons, but from time to time some exploration of an old ruin would turn up a new axon or twelve. Most modern axons are of the artificially made sort, my own included. But my grandfather had talked plenty over how old axons would sometimes need the gift from the Goddesses to make them fully functional again.”

“And what does that have to do with the age of heroes?”

“Back then, the Gods still walked the world. They made the axons, and the thalaring temples as well.” His smile twisted slightly. “The monsters also came from that time.”

“No option for a refund on those?”

“Unfortunately not.” A shake of the head. “Their existence is a curse created by the jealous, nameless god. It’s ancient history. Originally, people waged gruesome and bloody wars. This was until the gods descended to the world and imposed peace, bringing the age of blood to an end.”

Damon raised an eyebrow. “That must have been an impressive big stick if it ended all wars.”

“It was through an edict. Janus, with the aid of Rali, Irsi, and Tora, put the edicts of peace. People were made unable to harm others. Be they person, beast, or… eventually, monster.”

Damon shifted, frowning. “Not harm others… how? Sybil stabbed me. That seemed pretty harmful.”

“She’s a user.” He grimaced. “And… again, sorry. We thought you were a new monster of some sort. There have been more than a few monsters that looked close to people, but off in certain ways.”

“I’ll try to not take that as an insult.” Damon rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me that a non-user cannot fight?”

“They cannot, no. A normal person has a role, and unless they are a knight or a squire, they cannot attack anyone or anything else.” Han returned the frown. “When you try to consider hurting someone, a deep panic takes over. It paralyzes you to your core. And if you try to act, knowing it will cause physical harm, your body freezes in place. That is how it felt to me, at least.”

Damon’s brows had been rising with every word Han had spoken. “You’re telling me you’ve experienced that?”

“I have.” There was a tense silence that followed. Han leaned forward with a deep sigh. “People are born with roles. Gatherer, smith, merchant, farmer, and there are many others. The role is a gift from the gods that helps you in your work, your task. You are free to change your role, learn a new one. For example, to become a knight you must be trained and take the role of squire. But as surely as the suns sets, no one can disobey the edicts, and those that have roles are under the edicts of peace.”

Damon frowned as he leaned back against his chair. “I’ll be honest with you, this is a very hard to swallow pill. It sounds all sorts of wrong. Why not just make everyone a user?”

“You sound like Stebos.” Han laughed. “Many argue that to make everyone a user would be the greatest form of blasphemy. But in the end, it’s just wasted breath. There aren’t enough axons to go around to do so even if everyone were willing.”

“This feels all sorts of wrong.” He tightened his fingers together. “I got a friend, Tom, good mate of mine, smartest person I know. Bit too smart, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut even if his life depended on it. Got into a lot of trouble over very loud opinions. And he’d be starting a shouting match over this right about now.”

“You seem fond of your mate.”

Damon felt himself choke, breaking out into a fit of coughing. “Mate is an expression for ‘friend’ where I come from.”

Han nodded, smirking and letting out a chuckle. “If so, I would recommend being careful on how you use the term here.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Could we change the subject? You were talking about monsters? Age of heroes?”

“Ah, yes. After the gods put the edict of peace, they were revered as many cruelties came to an end. This made the nameless god jealous, and, eventually, he planted the seeds from where the monsters come.” Han’s expression darkened. “When he unleashed them upon the world, the ruin he brought enraged the other gods. Their response was to create the users and the knights so they could wage war upon the nameless one. It was long and arduous, but eventually the nameless one was struck down.”

“Couldn’t they have just… made everyone able to fight again?”

Han shook his head. “Once the edicts were made, they couldn’t be undone.”

“And the monsters stayed after killing the asshole.”

“The curse was too strong, the seeds spread too far.” Han shook his head. “And the gods themselves had been dealt terrible injuries during the fight. They had to leave. This is an event that Stebos will insist is the start of the age of darkness. Others will claim the age of darkness came when the last of the first users died.”

Damon had to rub at his temples as he heard this. “How many ages are there?”

“The age of darkness, followed by the age of resistance. Then the age of thunder, the age of storms, two others I keep forgetting about, the age of ruin, and another one. We’re currently in the age of light.” He tapped the back of his head. “Though some will claim it is the second age of ruin. It started roughly a hundred years ago when the people from the Rali continent created the first mortal-made axon.”

“You know a lot of history.”

“I picked up some things from sticking around Stebos. I’ve worked for him.” Han said, his shoulders slumped as he sighed. “I should start charging him more.”

Damon stifled a yawn and glanced out the window. It had become dark outside, and he was feeling like shit. “I think I’m going to need to lie down and… try to stop my head from exploding.” He glanced down at the table and stood up. “Han, I… this might seem strange coming from me, but thank you for the hospitality. I just can’t avoid…”

“You’re wondering why?” He asked, and shrugged. “I trust Sybil’s judgment.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, no. But it’s the main reason. Believe it or not, Sybil and I met under similar circumstances.”

“Trying to kill one another?”

“More or less?” Han asked, lips quirking upwards. “Actually, I have a question. Near the end, you fell, and it wasn’t from Sybil’s poisons. Something that happened to your head?”

“The user guide did a thing that let me understand you.” Damon shook his head. “Language package or something along those lines.”

Han looked at him and slowly stroked his beard. “I had never heard of a user guide that could translate languages before. That was not what I’d expected.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you said you couldn’t hear us. It was odd, because when I asked the knight, he assured me his familiar could understand Demnish just fine. So a declaration of surrender would have made it stop.”

“Oh…” Damon flinched.

“Familiars aren’t connected to their users the same way a drone or robot would be. They are their own entities, even if simple ones. And sir knight confirmed it had thought what you told it was some weird monster call.”

He stood up and gestured for him to follow.

“Getting back to the subject. There are people in Sky Bridge that would know more about a strange axon than some run-of-the-mill user like me. But I’d recommend being careful when talking about these things. It could go a long way to avoid the wrong sort of attention.”

Damon quietly followed, marching his way through the house until pointed at the room he’d be staying in. It was relatively small, and the bed looked more like they’d wrapped a bunch of cloth under a larger cloth. With a wish for good rest, he stumbled into the room. His whole body was crashing, limbs felt like lead, and his eyelids were moments away from just falling shut on their own.

He couldn’t remember ever being this tired, even the hell march didn’t compare.

Taking off the scratchy overly loose shirt they’d left him to wear and the equally scratchy brown pants, he locked the door and window, checking it would hold. He checked them a second time, and then used some spare cloth to make sure they’d remain locked. Then he collapsed into the not-that-comfortable conglomeration of sheets that made up the bed. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He barely summoned the energy to cover himself with the bedsheets to ward off the chill.

His mind drifted through the day, trying to grasp at anything to latch onto before the exhaustion dragged him off. A singular thought gave him pause on the way to sleep, he’d been looking forward to finishing training and visiting his mother before deployment. Tell her he was doing fine, for once.

A deep sigh left him, his mind stilled before he could dip further into it.

The last thing he heard before falling asleep was the rumble of thunder.

[008 Laundry]

Damon woke up feeling like his whole body was bruised. Moving hurt, breathing hurt, existence hurt. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t go back to sleep, even though the sun had yet to come out. Or maybe it was just the habits built up during basic rearing their ugly head and biting him. Either way, he couldn’t find it in him to stay in bed and ignore the strange alien world outside.

He got up, made the bed, dressed up with itchy clothes, checked the locks, undid the cloth locks, and left the room. They’d not given him shoes. His feet, apparently, were too large for anything readily available. So he’d have to either stay barefoot or improvise for the time being.

The house was quiet. He figured Han and Sybil were asleep.

Walking down creaky stairs, he raided some food and water. The lack of any form of meat rattled his thoughts, his lips pursed in thought to Han’s words.

“Edicts of peace my ass.”

More than a few people Damon knew would have quite loudly proclaimed those very things in far ruder ways. As it stood, he could only try to push the thoughts of his friends to the side and focus on the now.

He took a sparse breakfast, not wanting to impose too hard on his hosts. He cleaned up after himself and went to the washroom. The stench of stale blood and sweat greeted him. The gaper’s fur had remained there throughout the night, still stained in goopy blue blood, waiting for him.

A quick check confirmed the water supply for the shower had been restored, either partially or totally. So he plugged the tub, dumped the fur in, poured water, and began using the pumice to scrub at it. The fur and scales were coarse, tough, and though Damon suspected the pumice would have worn either out, it didn’t.

The physical activity allowed his mind to focus, to go back to the events of the previous day. By the looks of things, the cave may still hold some answers, and Sybil was interested in heading there as soon as she could get away with it. He’d definitely want to give it a second look over, hopefully find what brought him here and how.

“Gods.”

The word left a weird taste in Damon’s mouth. He’d never been too keen on the religion subject, but he’d learned to respect matters that were bigger than anyone would ever be. And several points about the gods Han had spoken of didn’t sit right with him, particularly the edicts, that was a whole can of worms. But what concerned Damon the most were the things that he’d kept quiet about.

“System, what is Janus?”

[...]

Query Answer:

Janus: For all your exploration and entertainment needs.

[...]

“That doesn’t sound like a god.”

“What doesn’t sound like a god?”

Damon didn’t scream, but he did spin around while holding the drenched gaper fur as a shield. Which was followed by him toppling over and nearly falling into the tub. Sybil was at the entrance of the bathroom, fully dressed and wearing her cape, face hidden by a cowl, only leaving her light brown eyes visible. Those same eyes were full of amusement at his reaction.

“You usually wake up this early?” She asked.

“Just force of habit.” He sheepishly returned the fur to the tub and got back to scrubbing. “Might as well clean this thing.”

Sybil nodded in acknowledgement. Since she didn’t comment anything else, he turned to continue the effort of getting all the blue gunk out of the fur and scales. He drained the tub once the water had gotten too blue, poured more water, and started all over again. He could feel her eyes on him as he worked, but he paid no mind, too used to having someone looking over his shoulder. A part of him expected her to point out any mistakes or if he was doing something wrong, but that was mostly the training talking.

The minutes stretched on, until the water stopped turning blue and Damon couldn’t find any more gunk to scrub. Only then did he glance over at the spot she’d been occupying, unsure if she’d left or not.

Sybil hadn’t moved an inch.

“Where can I hang this to dry?” He offered a way out of the silence.

“Sky’s cloudy. Better hang it inside.”

She stepped out of the bathroom, coming back a moment later with some strings. With little fanfare, she tied the ends of the strings at either side of the washroom to small hooks in the wood that were discreetly camouflaged with the rest of the wood.

Damon left the fur dangling from there and put his shirt back on. Sybil reached into a pouch inside her coat and brought out two silver cubes with a metal at one end. She placed the cubes on top of the damp fur and left the strings hanging at the sides.

After a handful of seconds, the strings began dripping water down to the tub.

“They’re wither seeds, they extract humidity from their surroundings and pour the water through the string.” She explained. “They’re one of the better options available to get water while out in the wilderness. Worth the cost.”

Damon glanced at her and nodded. “Is there anything I can help with? Breakfast maybe?”

Rumbling thunder rattled outside.

“Do you know what a monster rebirth is?”

“No.”

“Monsters come out of the ground.” She declared. “And they will usually remain near the area they were born in. When you kill a monster, a new one of the same kind will usually emerge after a handful of days. This is called rebirth.”

“They sprout from the dirt? Like some sort of plant?”

“Exactly. Monster seeds appear underground, usually about a meter under the surface, sometimes deeper, and from it the monster is born. If you can find a seed and dig it out, then that is one less monster to worry over.”

“Like the wither seeds?” Damon frowned.

“Withers are a type of monster common in the wetlands. They suck blood out of their victims. They’re about the size of a fist and have a habit of swarming.”

“And I thought mosquitoes were bad. What happens if I bury those seeds?”

“Nothing. The seeds are very sensitive. If you unearth one, it’ll die.”

“So this rebirth, they… wait for the monsters outside to die before popping out?”

“Usually, yes.”

“Why?”

“Probably to avoid having to compete for food. That and the older the monster, the stronger they become. A newborn would easily become food.” Sybil replied. “Either way, I checked with the knight, and the gaper cave hadn’t been cleared in years, so a rebirth is likely to happen.”

“Another gaper, joy.”

“The good news is that if it dies, it will probably be months before another gaper emerges there. And it wouldn’t have a chance for a rebirth to occur if cleared out quickly enough.” She nodded slightly. “Hopefully, they’d be able to dig-out the area and find the seeds.”

“And the monster stops showing up?”

Sybil shrugged. “Sometimes. The only certainty we have is that if a monster was in an area, that area can have that monster again. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t, sometimes years pass, and a monster thought to be eradicated appears again.” She shook her head. “The reason I talk about this is that Han and I had originally come here in search of the ‘third bolt of luminosity’. It is a monster lord with electrical capabilities.”

“So… what does that have to do with me?”

“The last third bolt of luminosity was slain near this village roughly two years ago. We came here because we found records showing that the particular type of monster lord emerges soon after heavy rainfall. And there had been none in the area since the last one’s extermination.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

“I had intended to leave for the gaper cave, but a storm is approaching. If we are lucky, the lord will emerge.” She looked into his eyes with a deep scowl. “I would request you wait for us to finish with the lord.”

“Like… what? Just stay here and wait?”

“You may feel tempted to accompany us to fight the lord, but-.”

“Oh no, fuck that.” Damon laughed. “If I can stay put and wait, by all means.”

Sybil looked at him, eyes wide and blinking slowly. They took a moment to narrow in suspicion. “So you would not chase after us?”

“I want to go back home. Dying to a monster will not help with that.”

“I… that makes sense.” She took a step back, giving a hesitant nod before her shoulders slumped. “I guess that makes sense.” Her voice repeated, less enthusiastically. “I will talk to Han. We will attempt to depart once we can confirm the lord has emerged.”

“And the knight guy?”

“He should have his familiar properly fixed by today. But even if he didn’t, attacking the third bolt of luminosity soon after it emerges would be preferable to letting it gain power. It’s a type of monster that gathers charge from its surroundings to strengthen itself as time goes on.” She turned to Damon again. “And you will stay in the village, right?”

“You guys are the ones with a better idea about the whole Janus thing. Waiting for you to come back and then go check the cave seems like the most reasonable approach.” Damon hummed for a second. “If you don’t mind my asking, Han mentioned the familiar and it being different to a drone. What’s that about?”

“Familiars are alive, drones are not.” Sybil acknowledged. “The grafts to control drones and one to have a familiar work differently. Drones are a direct extension of the user. Familiars are their own entity, albeit one bound to the user.”

“So a familiar is more like an attack dog.”

“Dog? Is that a creature from your world?”

“My opinion of this world just lowered a bit more.” He frowned. “I’m not sure I like the idea of replacing my body with machine parts.”

“Grafts extend the body. It is as alive as flesh and blood.”

Damon glanced at her for a moment, frowning. “And when it gets damaged? Do you look for parts?”

“What? No!” She recoiled. “The Goddesses Rali and Irsi made grafts, it is not mere metal, oil, and resin. If your graft breaks, it can heal, in exactly the same way you would heal a cut or mend a broken bone. Better, even.”

“Talking from experience?”

Sybil paused, turned around, and glared. “Yes.” She reached down to her pants and pulled the cloth up to expose her lower legs. The sight of it made Damon freeze, realizing it was some sort of prosthetics. Her feet were not there, in their place there was a forward curved smoothed out opaque metal, her calves and knees replaced by a sinuous amalgamation of skin and metal that mimicked the shape of the lower legs but clearly weren’t. The design was stylized with a single etching of a blade on her outer right thigh. There were parts of the prosthetics that were so close to life like that, had he not focused on her clearly artificial feet, he wouldn’t have been able to notice everything from her knees onward was some sort of metal.

“Touch them.”

“No way.” Damon shook his head vigorously. His thoughts drifted to her well toned thighs and he shook his head a bit more intensely.

“Touch them.”

“I am most definitely not touching.”

“They are my legs and are what allowed me to catch up to you.” She replied, stomping her foot. “I can feel through them just as well as if they were normal feet. And their shape is only temporary until I can upgrade them.”

“So if I step on those, you’re going to feel pain?”

“You’re a big, burly oaf.” There was a smirk behind her cowl, her tone oozed with it. “Stomping on my foot would likely do more than hurt.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He crossed his arms. “Why in the world would you replace your legs with those, anyway?”

“Because I need to become stronger.”

The presence of iron in her voice caught Damon by surprise. He glanced at her, trying to read her expression through those hazel eyes. “Why?”

“There are things I must do that I am too weak to do as I am now.” She shook her head. “We meld our bodies with them through the wisdom of the Goddesses. Grafts are how users become stronger, how we protect others, and how we show our courage to Janus.”

Damon was tempted to voice several opinions about alleged divinity, but he’d been taught better. Instead, he tried to avoid the likely very rude conflict with the very people who’d given him food to fill his belly and a roof to sleep under. “How do grafts work?”

Sybil looked more than eager to answer. “Usually, a user can have up to fourteen grafts. Two per limb, three in the torso, and three in the skull. Though everyone has one or two grafts they’ve inherited. Once you get one, it becomes a part of you and no one can ever take it away, not even the Goddesses.” She intoned, leaning against the wall and letting her pant legs fall back down. “You can only get them in the thalaring, gifted in exchange of graft cores and materials.”

“Materials such as?”

“Such as the gaper pelt you have drying in the washroom.” She pointed at the door. “There is no certainty about what the goddesses will gift you with, but what you bring usually determines what you get.”

“Like the lightning graft you want from the lord.”

“Exactly.” She perked up. “I plan to bring some spider wire as well. Hopefully I will get a whip graft. Which would let me fight better at close range and also give me some other options for movement. Or a type upgrade.”

“Type upgrade?”

“Once you have a graft, you can enhance it up to ten times. There are direct upgrades, which are usually just an improved version. But there are also type enhancements, which add a new function or capability to your graft. You can only ever have one type upgrade per graft, though. My legs, for example, are a speed graft with a silent jump type upgrade.” She stomped her foot several times.

Damon quickly realized the only sound that came from the motion was the ruffling of her clothes. The foot impacting on the wood was entirely quiet.

“It was a bit of an upgrade I hadn’t been looking for. I was lucky though, some people get bad graft combinations that don’t work too well together.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Some families put a lot of effort into making sure their heirs inherit the right set of grafts.”

“What?”

“Species grafts are inherited.” Sybil pointed out. “But for a normal graft, if you get it to the tenth upgrade, then your progeny will be born with a second level equivalent, regardless of their role. And they in turn would have to get it back up to the tenth upgrade for them to pass it on.”

Damon shuddered at that consideration, eyes going wide. The metal lump at the base of his skull itched, and he had to hold back from reaching up and scratching. There were a million thoughts going through his head, none comfortable.

“Is it really that surprising?” Sybil said, frowning slightly in concern. “You’re pale.”

“It’s a lot to take in.” His lips twitched into a nervous smile. “Like, a lot a lot.” He leaned against the wall a bit. “I think I’m going to need a minute to process this.”

Sybil glanced at him weirdly but nodded. “I have to get some food. Would you want to come with me?”

“What?”

“The fresh air should do you well.”

“Uh, yeah, air, I’m going to need that.”

[FIRST][PREVIOUS][NEXT]