The Fusionist Book 5 -- Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The atmosphere was tense inside the Pattern box as Larek near-invisibly led them over the landscape far below, the Secure Hideaway working to camouflage them enough that they weren’t visible as more than a blur in the air. The strain of bringing the box up so high was starting to give him a headache, as was the speed that they were moving, but he pushed through the pain that his Pain Immunity Skill didn’t do anything to relieve, as he wanted to get as far away from the two groups of Mages and Martials as possible before setting down to rest.

When they had traveled at least 5 miles past the moronic people and the city that he’d seen on their way, he finally set the Pattern box down in between two small hills covered in small forests, out of sight of anything that might have been following them. Releasing the Pattern he’d been manipulating, the Fusionist practically collapsed onto the ground in relief as the incessant pain in his head started to fade away, though it lingered long enough that he knew that he’d have to wait at least another hour before he did anything like that with his Pattern Cohesion again. It, and his focus, had been strained to the breaking point and both his mind and his body needed to rest.

“Prejudiced idiots. Why couldn’t they see past my height and treat me like a normal person?” he asked out loud to himself, feeling completely dejected over the entire incident. At first, he had been extremely angry at his treatment, especially after his relatively pleasant reception in Tarvada, and he had been unprepared for the vitriolic words he had received from what seemed to be the leaders of the two groups. After a moment, his anger drained away, only to be replaced by disappointment. He had been semi-excited to help out the people he might meet on his way home, giving away some of his Fusions so that they could better protect themselves and others, but after seeing the reception he just received, he realized it wasn’t going to be that easy.

As a result, while they were still talking, he decided that he didn’t have to put up with their nonsense and left instead of offering to help, despite the fact that they seemed like they could use it. Nedira hadn’t said anything and let him do the talking, for which he was thankful for once, because he really didn’t want to get caught there while she attempted to talk sense into them.

In his mind, they didn’t deserve his help, so there was no point in sticking around.

“I told you that would happen, didn’t I?” Nedira said softly by his side, where she had taken a seat after he partially collapsed.

“Huh?”

“Their reaction to your appearance,” she explained. “I did tell you that it would be much harder to get around without being identified as a potential Gergasi, didn’t I?”

He nodded.

“Why weren’t you wearing your ring?”

Larek sighed. “Because of the reaction I had when the Mages saw me in Tarvada,” he replied. “I mistakenly thought that if I was truthful upfront, it would go better, but I was obviously wrong,” he continued, disgust coloring his voice. He wasn’t sure if it was disgust at the other people or himself.

“I… see. I’m not sure what the best solution is, then. They’ll either see you without the Fusion and know that you’re tall like a Gergasi, or they’ll think you’re tricking them with your ring if you’re wearing it.”

Thinking about it for a few seconds, he sighed again, this time in exasperation. “Exactly. It’s like it doesn’t matter what I do, as I’ll be in trouble either way.”  Larek stared down at the ground underneath him for a few a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as he wallowed in self-pity. “It’s just so unfair,” he complained, knowing that he was whining but not really caring. “It’s not like I can help what I look like—”

He stopped talking as something occurred to him. As he sat there, working out a thought that flashed through his mind, Nedira asked, “What is it?”

The Fusionist didn’t answer for nearly a minute as he found what he was looking for. As he pulled up his Status and concentrated on his Pattern Master Specialization, he abruptly displayed in the air between them the benefit he had been thinking of for both of them to see.

Heightened ability to manipulate your internal pattern

“What exactly does that mean?” she asked.

It took him a few seconds of him focusing on it for Larek to answer. “I’m not entirely sure, but I believe it might let me alter what I look like.”

“Really? But it says your internal pattern; how does that alter what you look like?”

“That’s because your internal pattern isn’t just something internal,” he explained as more and more confidence in his understanding of the benefit flowed into his mind, “it’s who you are. The outside only reflects what is on the inside, so if I was to change my own, personal pattern, my body would change along with it.” He hesitated for a second before continuing. “Or at least that’s how I think it works.”

“That sounds dangerous, Larek,” Nedira cautioned. “What if you mess something up?”

He wanted to reassure her that he wouldn’t mess anything up, as he’d been manipulating patterns successfully for a while now, but he didn’t actually know that he would be fine if he messed with his own pattern. He had originally wielded it as a weapon to fight the Umbral Demons, which led to his Pattern Manipulation Skill, but it wasn’t quite the same as what he was thinking about doing.

“I’m not going to lie, it’s probably dangerous,” Larek admitted. “But I think I have to try, if only to give me a little peace of mind.” That was the reason he gave her, but in reality there was an even greater motive for him to attempt messing with his own pattern.

He hated the Gergasi, and while he didn’t plan on trying to eliminate the special gifts he may or may not have inherited from his father, there was a physical trait he possessed that had been nothing but a detriment to him. His height was ultimately the source of all his woes, or at least he could trace them back to it, and if he could potentially change it, he could eliminate the one part of his physical appearance that had caused him so much pain.

Of course, a magical alteration of his internal pattern wasn’t something that should be taken lightly, even if it was to get rid of something that had plagued him for most of his adult life. He had no idea what utilizing that part of his abilities would actually do, and it could end up doing more harm than good.

But if he was ever going to be able to help the people he met along the route home, he needed to not let the instinctual prejudice of the Kingdom’s population prevent him from doing that. More than that, if once he reached Rushwood and found his family gone, he needed to be able to speak to whoever was nearby that might be able to tell him what happened to them – and he couldn’t do that if they hated him on sight.

It wasn’t fair that Larek had to change himself just so that he could walk and talk freely among the Kingdom’s residents, but ever since he left home, there hadn’t been a lot that was fair. At least with his current plan, the Fusionist could actually choose to have himself look a different way, rather than be cursed with his height by birth.

Without wanting to wait any longer, Larek closed his eyes and started to investigate his own Pattern Cohesion, looking for a way to enact the changes he was thinking about… only to find that he needed to wait a little longer. It was still strained from how he had pushed the Pattern box not so long ago, but he could at least figure out what to do and plan for when he had fully recovered.

First, using his internal senses, Larek mapped out his entire pattern, investigating every iota of it as it connected to his body; from his toes to the hair on his head, his pattern infused every single part of it. He wasn’t surprised to find that everything inside of his body was connected by the vibrant energy of his pattern, because he already knew this on an instinctual level. What he was surprised about was how deeply he understood how every single portion of his pattern influenced who he was; not just his body, his physical form, but also his mind, his Mana, and his Stama. As he studied what he was looking at, he began to comprehend the relationship that he already knew about between his Body stat and his Pneuma stat, as they were interlinked and directly influenced each other.

There was a few other connections between his different parts that he discovered, such as how his mind, Intellect, and Acuity stat were directly related to his Mana, as was his Strength and Agility stats and his Stama, but there was one that he felt rather than saw, because it didn’t actually exist. His Acuity and Agility were related in some way he couldn’t tell, and while he thought there should be a connection between them, he couldn’t find anything directly. It was something he would have to look into in the future, but for now he left it alone.

Instead, he concentrated on what was actually there, and he began to intuitively understand how he would be able to change his pattern. Just like he would use his Pattern Manipulation Skill to attack any Umbral Demons that were trying to possess his body and mind, he would have to take control of his Pattern Cohesion. Instead of wielding it as a weapon, which didn’t change its form as much as temporarily utilize its inherent strength for a specific purpose, he would have to mold and shape the permanent changes he wanted to impart upon it.

But not all at once and not too drastic of a change. The same intuitive sense he had of what he needed to do told him that trying to do too much in a short amount of time could start tearing his pattern apart, so any major changes had to be done in smaller increments.

That was fine with him, though, because he had been waiting for years for the opportunity to change his appearance, and he wasn’t going to waste this chance by rushing through the process.  With that in mind, he began to plan out what he was going to do while he waited for his pattern to recover from the abuse he’d already put it through.

Thankfully, it didn’t take nearly as long as he feared, and within a half hour he was ready to start. After warning Nedira that he was about to begin, Larek took a deep breath and took control of his internal pattern. When he did, he simply held onto it, intimately feeling every little portion of it as he mapped out what he was going to do.  Starting the process in his mind, he started to squeeze his pattern just a tiny bit, slowly condensing it within itself. At first, nothing seemed to happen, so he increased the pressure on his pattern. Suddenly, there was an awkward jerk in his pattern when it actually started to do what he wanted; it was abrupt and a lot more than he originally intended, like he was pulling on a wagon with its wheel stuck in the mud before it suddenly released, causing him to fall on his face.

Except he didn’t fall on his face; instead, it felt like his entire body had been picked up by an enormous monster hand and was being squished inside of its fist. He distantly heard screaming, and it was only later once his pattern stabilized and the pain – which was in no way reduced by his Pain Immunity Skill – faded away that he realized that it was he who had been screaming. His awareness of the world suddenly came back even though he didn’t remember losing it in the first place, and he found himself looking up at Nedira’s tear-streaked face, her fingers methodically brushing through his hair as his head was positioned on her lap.

Her eyes widened as she realized he was looking up at her, and she suddenly gripped his hair tightly in her fist. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” she growled, staring hard into his eyes. “Those screams you let out are going to haunt my nightmares, and it’s not like I need to add any more to them.”

He nodded after attempting to speak, only to realize that his throat felt like it had been torn up. His Body Regeneration was already healing he had done to it with his screams, but he was now aware that he had done some serious damage to his throat. He had only been vaguely aware of them in his pain-filled torture, but for him to be even that aware of them, they must have been frightening, indeed. He didn’t blame her for reacting the way she just did.

“I’m… sorry,” he eventually croaked out, his throat nearly repaired already. He could’ve used his Healing Surge Fusion to fix it the rest of the way, but he decided to let his Skill finish what it had started.

Letting go of his hair, Nedira wiped away the tears from her face, before asking, “What happened?”

“I messed up,” he admitted after he spent a few seconds contemplating what went wrong. It didn’t take a genius to see that he had succeeded a little too well when he condensed his pattern, as it was obvious – at least to himself – that he was now approximately 5 inches shorter than he had been before. Since he was lying down, it probably wasn’t as obvious to Nedira, but all it took was one look at his own pattern to see the truth. “I pushed it too far, too fast. It won’t happen again.” At least, he hoped not.

The sudden shifting of his physical body along with his pattern had hurt more than anything he’d ever felt in his life, but at the same time he knew that it wasn’t supposed to hurt that much… as long as he took his time like he was supposed to. Thankfully, when he was able to fully evaluate his internal pattern, it appeared perfectly fine without any stress or strains; it was only his body that had taken the punishment from his mistake, for which he was grateful. Not for the pain, of course, but for the lack of any damage to his pattern. He thought it was because he wasn’t making any drastic changes to it, only condensing what was already there so that he would shrink in size; if he had tried to give himself another arm or something, the result might have been different. Can I do that? Give myself another arm or leg? He thought it might be theoretically possible, but he also had no desire to try.

“It had better not,” she strictly ordered, before her face softened. “Now that you know it’s too dangerous, we can go—”

“Oh, it worked, alright. And I’m not done yet. If it take it slow this time, I should be fine.”

Nedira appeared angry for a moment, before throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine. Do whatever you want. But if you scream like that again, you better not expect me to comfort you for your imbecilic choices.”

Larek chuckled at that. “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine, despite my ‘imbecilic’ choices.”

She sighed in exasperation as she shook her head, but didn’t say anything. Taking that as a tacit agreement for him to do what he needed to do, he immediately closed his eyes and dove into his internal pattern once again. His body was now free of any pain, and he was ready to finish what he started.

Fortunately, as soon as he took control of his Pattern Cohesion again, it seemed to be much more pliable than it was before. Using the same analogy of a wagon being stuck in mud, it was as if he was not traveling along a smooth, packed dirt road without a hint of mud anywhere around, so manipulating his internal pattern was much easier. It was as if, once he freed his pattern from where it had been entrenched for so long, it was much more willing to change.

So, change it he did.  While it felt like he could now easily make dramatic changes like the additional arm he’d thought of, he knew it would be painful as it altered his body; therefore, wanting to forgo another round of painful torture, he started slow, squeezing and condensing his entire pattern little by little. Instead of it having no result like before, his pattern immediately responded to his manipulations, and he could literally feel his body changing along with it.

It wasn’t pleasant and it hurt, but it wasn’t even a fraction of the pain that he had just gone through. Even though he had to grit his teeth and push through the agony of having his body shrunk through his actions with his internal pattern, he prided himself in the fact that he didn’t scream once. There might have been a few whimpers that he involuntarily released, but he’d still call it a win.

It took another hour of gradually condensing his pattern and his body, but little by little, Larek shrunk. By the time he was done, he was mentally and physically exhausted; he fell asleep once he let go of his control, his head still resting in Nedira’s lap.

Waking up later, he found that the sun had already set, indicating that he had slept for at least four or five hours, but he didn’t regret the time spent on doing what he had to do. That was because, for the first time since he was around 11 years old, he was short.

Not short short, because he was still taller than Nedira, and at 5 and a half feet tall, he was on the taller end of most of the Kingdom’s population. But he was no longer around 7 feet tall, which made all the difference; in other words, he wasn’t a giant anymore.

“I couldn’t see it actually happening, but now that I look at you, I can tell that you’re shorter,” Nedira said as soon as he woke up. “How much did you shrink?”

“About a foot and a half,” he answered. “And while it is technically permanent, I can easily change myself back to how I looked before.” Larek could feel his internal pattern just waiting inside for him to manipulate it some more, but he had no reason to mess with it any more than he had.

“That’s good to hear. I liked you the way you were, though I have to admit that it will be nice not having to bend my neck so far to look up at you,” she said with a smile. All hint of the tears she had shed earlier was gone, and she appeared to have recovered from the fright of his unfortunate screaming.

“I’m just looking forward to not being screamed at as soon as I show up somewhere with other people,” he said as he sat up. His balance was more than a little wobbly as he got to his feet, and it took him a few minutes of standing still and then slowly walking around to get used to his new body. It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, of course, because he still looked largely the same; it was only that he had shrunk in proportion to his height. That meant he had smaller feet, which threw off his balance, and the center of weight on his body had changed slightly, making it more difficult to know how to move in order not to fall flat on his face. Still, it was worth the temporary disorientation for the bonus of being shorter.

He no longer had to hide behind his Perceptive Misdirection Fusion, nor did he have to hope that at least some people would be able to look past his height and see him for who he was. While he was disappointed that he had to do this in the first place, he didn’t regret his decision; that being said, as soon as he felt like it was safe to do so, he would probably change himself back in the future. He liked who he was, even if many others didn’t; he resolved that this alteration of his pattern and body was only going to be temporary.

Nedira agreed. “I can see the point of what you’ve done, but I have to admit that I liked the old you,” she said when he was done adjusting to his new body. “Though, I think we’re going to have to visit someplace with clothes soon, because you look like a child who’s dressing up in his father’s clothes,” she added with a chuckle. Looking down at himself, he had to admit that she was right; everything was much baggier than they used to be, and his pant legs were practically dragging along the ground.

That was just a minor inconvenience, though, for the benefit that it provided. He wanted to get started on finding clothing right then and there, which would give him an opportunity to test out his new appearance along people, but they decided to start traveling again in the morning.

Larek still needed to rest his pattern and Pattern Cohesion, so this was probably for the best. Regardless of his continued exhaustion, he couldn’t help but feel some bottled up excitement as he tried to get some sleep that night, keeping him awake for hours before he finally succumbed to his much-needed slumber.