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Chapter 63: Desperate measures
🕑 Added 2025-02-07 09:24:29 +0000 UTC“Professor?” Rylan called out the next morning, sticking his head into Isai’s remodelled, considerably smaller workplace. He found the white-haired man sitting on a stool, bent over a piece of the floating prison that used to hold Maris. “I brought your breakfast.”
Isai looked up and grimaced at the bowl of gruel Rylan was holding, but waved him in. “Just put it down somewhere. I’m sure I’ll work up an appetite... eventually.”
Rylan walked over and placed the meal down on a sliver of clear workbench, at what he hoped was a safe distance from any active projects. Then he lingered, idly watching as the professor continued scrawling down notes in what was either some kind of secret code, or simply the worst handwriting Rylan had ever witnessed.
After Isai failed to notice his continued presence for a minute or so, Rylan cleared his throat. “Professor, do you have a minute?”
Isai finally looked up again, blinking, seeming surprised that Rylan was still there. But he recovered quickly. “For you, my boy? Always. What seems to be the matter?”
Rylan opened his mouth to go into his planned spiel, when he was overcome by curiosity. “Professor, why aren’t you mad at me?” he blurted out instead. “I mean, I ruined your research and may have doomed us all...”
The professor let out a sigh, putting down his tools and rolling his right shoulder. “Hmm, yes. That’s a complicated question. Do you want the long or the short of it?”
Rylan shrugged. “I’ve got time.”
Isai smiled. “Very well then.” He was silent for a moment, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back against his workbench. “This may come as a surprise—or maybe not—but I used to be a bit of a hothead. In the past, when one of my assistants broke or spilled something, I would snap at them and chew them out. However, a couple of years ago, I had a long discussion with Halloth that—and please don’t tell him I said this—really changed my perspective.”
“Your perspective on what, professor?”
“Well, we were talking about actions and consequences, and he posited a scenario. It went a little something like this. Once upon a time, there were two brothers who were both... cobblers. One of them, ehm... Albert, was sick of his mundane life. So one day, he stepped into a gambling den, and bet his life savings, the house his family slept in, and all their worldly possessions on the roll of a single die. And of course... he won.”
Rylan felt his brows draw together, really not sure where this story was going.
“His brother, ehm... Bogdin, saw his brother’s fortune, his fancy new home and carriage, his wife’s silks, and grew envious. He ultimately resisted the temptation to gamble, however, and kept working, not willing to risk making his family destitute. Unfortunately, he took a bad fall one day, and his back was hurt, making him unable to provide for his family, and they grew poor anyway. Now... which of these men did the right thing?”
Rylan blinked. “Ehm... well, the first one, I suppose?”
The professor smiled like Rylan had fallen for a trap. “Did he? Would you call what he did wise? Would you say he did it with his family’s best interests at heart? Would you do the same in his shoes?”
“Definitely not, to all three questions,” Rylan said, emphatically shaking his head.
“Exactly. The point Halloth was trying to make—rather obnoxiously, I might add—was that an action couldn’t be solely judged by its consequences. Surviving a stupid risk doesn’t make one’s actions wise, and similarly, suffering a terrible fate doesn’t mean the path that led there was necessarily founded on poor judgment.”
Rylan nodded slowly. It wasn’t hard to draw parallels to his own life. Knowing everything he did now, running down into the cloudsea had been a monumentally stupid decision. The fact they’d survived as long as they had—after falling off a cliff and landing on a cloudwhale—was nothing short of miraculous.
“Anyway,” Isai continued, “that talk got me thinking about where I was directing my anger, taking out my frustrations. Who were the real clodmongers? My well-meaning but blundering assistants who set back my work, or the Thorns, who kept my discoveries for their own gain? Again, please never tell him this—he’s insufferable enough with his whole ‘enlightened’ act as it is—but that discussion was actually the catalyst that led to my leaving the Thorns and joining the Black Sheep on a more permanent basis. And ever since, I’ve tried to be more careful with deciding if someone’s deserving of my wrath.”
“And you don’t think I’ve earned it?” Rylan asked.
The professor shook his head. “You were trying to do the right thing. I may not be too happy with the result, but I can’t fault your intentions. The truth is... part of me wanted to set Maris free as well. I just couldn’t justify it to myself, when I weighed it against the things I wanted to achieve. Oftentimes, doing the right thing means walking a more difficult path. Whether that’s worth it or not, is something we can only decide for ourselves.”
Rylan ducked his head, feeling unable to handle the professor’s kind, knowing eyes in that moment.
“Now, is that what you came here to ask me?”
“Actually, no,” Rylan admitted, straightening up. If anything, he now felt even more determined to go through with his plan. However, he needed to know it had a chance at succeeding first. “I had trouble sleeping last night,” he continued, keeping his voice low as he launched into his prepared speech, in case there was anyone in the hall, “and as I lay there, staring at the tarp, I had a thought. A while back, the captain told me that part of the reward from a Champion’s Dungeon... is a canister of gasified Divine Metal, matching your chosen Affinity.”
Isai’s eyes went round. “Gasified Aetherium,” he mumbled, seemingly to himself. “It’s an interesting idea, my boy, but even if we got our hands on it, I don’t see how I would... how I...”
Rylan watched as the professor’s eyes glazed over, clearly working along the same lines he had. “We wouldn’t need the machine you’re trying to build, right?” he continued excitedly. “We could just fill the floater with the gas, and use that to make everything lighter!”
The professor jumped up from his stool, and started to pace, one hand rubbing the side of his face as he muttered. “It might... No, no, it wouldn’t do enough on its own. But! But, if I were to build some kind of mana emitter...”
The professor came to a stop, his excitement draining as he turned to Rylan. “Ah... it’s a clever idea, my boy, truly. But coming out of a Champion’s Dungeon alive is no small feat. The truth is, even if the captain were willing, we’d have to be pretty desperate to ask her to try. With her, we all still have a chance of making it out alive on foot. Without her...” He shook his head.
“Ah. I guess it was a silly idea,” Rylan replied, trying to sound disheartened. “It probably wouldn’t even actually work. Right?”
Isai cocked his head. “In theory? I think it would. I could throw together a mana emitter pretty quickly, as long as we still have some Cubes left to power it. Of course, our repairs to the tarpaulin on the new floater are patchwork at best, so I suspect the gasified Aetherium would slowly leak out... Still, it probably wouldn’t take that much to lighten the whole thing, so by letting it out in small doses, we could extend the time we can spend afloat. It’s not exactly a sustainable method, but I bet we could make it to Cliffport before we run out.”
Rylan’s stomach sank. He’d kind of hoped to enter the floater to breathe the gas in after their arrival, but it sounded like there wouldn’t be much left even if it all went according to plan. It’s fine. I’ll eat dirt if I have to.
Rylan sucked in a breath, keeping his face carefully blank. “All right. Thanks for humouring me. I figured we should keep it in mind as a last resort, at least.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to such extreme measures, hmm?” Isai said warmly. “Chin up, my boy. There’s still time.”
With that, the professor returned to his work, and Rylan turned to leave the room, growing more determined by the second. Perhaps his choice would lead him to a more difficult path—one he might not succeed in walking—but he was confident it was the right thing to do.
And moreover, something he felt was worth doing.
[Ehm Boss,] Stan sent. [What’s all this talk about the captain? I thought we were going to enter the Champion’s Dungeon?]
‘We are. But I’m not telling the others.’
[Why not?]
‘Well for one thing, if I tell anyone, Soren might find out. And if he does, he’s going to try to stop me. Fog, he might get it in his head to jump into the portal himself before I can. And I... don’t want him to.’
[Ah. Because even though you were mad at him for lying to you, he’s still your friend, right?]
‘Yes. He is.’
[So when are we going?]
Rylan hesitated. There was still a chance that someone stumbled across some Aetherium in the time they had left to find some. However... the professor would need time to build a mana emitter, and there would have to be Cubes left to power it. Cubes that were rapidly being burned up by the dehumidifier.
‘Tonight. Assuming nobody finds any Aetherium today, we’re going tonight. So save your mana. We’re going to need it.’
[You got it, Boss! This is going to be awesome!]
As Rylan expected and feared, they didn’t find anything that day. To be fair, he himself hadn’t tried too hard, as he’d already been quite convinced that the effort would be fruitless. In fact, he’d even found a little corner to take a nap in the middle of the afternoon.
He didn’t like slacking off while others worked, but he needed to be well-rested when he faced the Champion’s Dungeon.
His nerves grew as it started to get dark, but he forced himself to choke down two well-seasoned—but still boring—bowls of rice porridge, before going through the motions of preparing for sleep.
Then, once Tamina’s breathing had evened out and Soren had started to lightly snore, Rylan carefully slipped out of his bedroll, stopping only to drop the hastily scribbled note outlining his plan on his pillow.
With some luck, he’d be back before anyone got to read it.
After grabbing his backpack full of gear, he tiptoed out of their tent, not daring to relax until the flaps fell close behind him.
Outside, he let out a quiet breath, and moved a short distance away before starting to pull on his boots and strap on his knife-belt.
As he finished putting on his wool-lined leather coat, there was a loud creak from the mostly repaired ship. Rylan froze. With his heart in his throat, he turned towards the sound.
When nothing happened, he finally let out a sigh of relief.
[Ehm, Boss?] Stan sent, causing Rylan to start.
‘What is it, Stan?’ he replied hurriedly, snapping his head back around towards the ship. ‘Is there someone awake in the ship?’
[In the ship? No. But you might want to get a move on, before... oops.]
“Ry?” Tamina mumbled sleepily from behind him, her head sticking out of the tent, eyes squinting into the dark.
Fog...
Even muddled with sleep, Tamina did not seem to buy that Rylan was ‘just heading off to the bathroom,’ with a belt of knives strapped around his chest and a mostly empty backpack on his back.
Once he realised she was not about to drop the matter, Rylan instead gestured for her to follow him a little ways from the tent, so as not to wake a still-snoring Soren. Thankfully, she complied.
“You want to what?!” she hissed after he’d admitted the real reason he was up and fully geared. “Are you mad? You’ve been a Quinthar for what, a season? And now you want to go solo against a Sapphire-Grade Malequint?!”
“It’s the only way, Tammi,” he insisted. “Be honest. You don’t believe we’re going to find Aetherium tomorrow either.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to go do it!” she returned heatedly. “There’s a thin line between courage and fogging stupidity!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he snapped back. “I’m under no illusions that I’m some hero, Tammi. I’m the one who caused this mess!”
She blinked at him, her incredulous expression morphing into a frown. “Look, Ry, I won’t pretend I wasn’t a little pissed about your actions, but this was a precarious situation even before—”
“I don’t just mean the bubble,” he interrupted, rubbing his temple. “Look... I’ve had a lot of time to think, the last couple of days. A lot of time. Everything that happened to us down here, to you, to me, to Soren... it’s all because I didn’t trust him.”
“That’s not quite what you said before,” Tamina observed.
“Well, don’t get me wrong; his family didn’t do me any favours. But Soren... I should’ve known better. I was too blinded by my anger, my jealousy. If I’d gone with him instead of running, none of this would’ve ever happened. And here as well, I didn’t trust him and—even if I didn’t cause this trouble—I made everything worse.”
Tamina stared at him, her eyes narrowed. “So, what, you’re going to repay Soren by throwing your life away?”
“This isn’t about him,” Rylan said, shaking his head. “Or about the crew. All I’ve done since I’ve become a Quinthar, is put people in danger. I didn’t work this hard to become a Quinthar just to make the world a worse place. So I’m... taking responsibility.”
Tamina kept her gaze locked on his, and Rylan met her gaze evenly. Finally, she looked away first, glancing down then shutting her eyes. “Fog. Very well. If this is what your honour dictates, I won’t stand in the way. But I am coming, so you fogging better wait for me while I grab my stuff.”
“Fine,” Rylan replied, trying not to show how relieved he actually was for the company. “Just don’t wake Soren.”
Rylan and Tamina crept through the dark fog, lit only by the shimmering reddish-purple glow coming from his glowband. While the cloudsea was always eery, it was doubly so at night. As they moved through the ruins, Rylan jumped at every little chitter or clatter.
If it wasn’t for Stan keeping an eye out for predators, he would’ve long crawled out of his skin.
After a while of relatively smooth progress, they were forced to take shelter as Stan warned them of some large creature drifting overhead. Huddled up inside a mostly ruined building, Tamina asked how he was planning to win the upcoming fight.
“Well,” Rylan started hesitantly, “I think it’s safe to assume this Malequint is going to be bigger than me. So I was thinking of using hit-and-run tactics, try to sever one of its arteries and wait for it to bleed out. That, or I try to present myself as a non-threat until I can get close enough to deal a fatal blow in a single hit.”
Tamina, who had been nodding along, stopped to shake her head. “That won’t work. One thing I can guarantee you right now, is that the Malequint will be unrelentingly aggressive; the Dungeon will make it so. That means you won't be able to get in any cheap shots, but you may be able to tire it out. As long as your mana lasts, of course.”
“Of course,” Rylan mumbled, frowning. He’d kind of hoped to be able to get a good first hit in, at least.
“Look, the biggest advantage you’ve got is that you’re smarter,” Tamina said earnestly. “So use that brain of yours when you’re in there. Try to wield the terrain to your advantage. Try to hobble the creature, if you can. If it's land-based, hit its legs, if it flies, hit its wings. Do whatever you can to make it less dangerous to you, before you go in for the kill. But make sure not to get overconfident either, and watch out for its textured mana. Because don’t forget: unlike you, your foe will be Sapphire Grade. Until you know what it’s capable of, you have to be ready for anything.”
Rylan swallowed, but nodded.
Soon enough, Stan gave them the all clear, and they continued. Twice more, they were forced to hide out from a threat, but eventually they made it to the basement holding the Dungeons.
Rylan stared at the flickering light of the violet portal with a healthy dose of apprehension. When he’d been digging through rubble, out in the light, the idea of entering had still been abstract, a problem for later. Now that he was actually standing in front of it, it was disconcertingly real and imminent.
Next to him, Tamina was working her jaw, glaring at the portal like it had personally offended her. Her body kept tensing and untensing, and after a moment, something clicked in Rylan’s mind. “You want to go in yourself... but you can’t, can you?”
Tamina glanced at him, and let out a sigh, not responding. But that was confirmation enough.
Warmth flooded through him. Soren was right. Her Contract doesn’t allow her to enter a Champion’s Dungeon without permission, so she’d lose access to her Skills if she tried. But she still wants to... because she cares.
“Then it has to be me,” Rylan said, straightening his spine, a sudden calm coming over him.
There was no other path forward. None he could live with, anyway. So there was no point in second-guessing his decision.
‘You ready, Stan?’ he sent.
[I’m so ready, Boss! Let’s kick this Dungeon’s buttocks, even though it doesn’t have anything like those! Seriously, what would Dungeon buttocks even look like?!]
“All right then,” Rylan said, turning towards the portal. “See you in a bit, Tammi.”
As he made to take a step, however, Tamina grabbed onto his shoulder, and turned him back to face her.
Before he could react, she was up in his face, and a pair of warm lips pressed against his.
[Woah!]
Time seemed to slow down as Rylan’s eyes fluttered close. In a flash, he became hyper-aware of every little shift of pliant skin against his own. The soft pressure caused an eruption of tingles from his lips that sent his heart into overdrive, only exacerbated by the gentle stroke of fingers on his cheek.
Then, as suddenly as she’d come on, Tamina pulled away.
“For good luck,” she said, her voice a little hoarse, her eyes looking wet. “Come back alive, you hear me?”
“R-Right, yeah,” Rylan stammered. “I will.” Then he turned around, his heart in his throat for a variety of reasons now, and stepped into the portal.
Author's note:
This is one of those chapters that took a lot of editing to get right, but I feel like I got there in the end. :)
Thanks for reading! ^^
Comments
Kris Boxall
Yeah i really don’t like Rylan’s perspective that this is all his fault for not trusting his slaver, hope that goes away quickly
Thaabit Rivertree
I dont see how Rylen could possibly come to the conclusion that it's his fault for "not trusting Soren", the guy who literally ratted him out twice. If Soren had been a bit more forthcoming with even a bit of the truth, Rylen and him could have been on the same page. That they have conflicting goals, the captain is there for the Thorns, something like that. He couldve done so without revealing sensitive information. But Soren didnt trust Rylen, and puts his family first always. Soren seems to always lie to Rylen then do something for his family's benefit and, supposedly, Rylens own good, instead of leveling with him. And Rylen is chastising himself for not trusting the people who wanted to put him in a 10 year soulbound slave contract... Trusting another with your fate always while they lie or withhold info from you is not how a free person with dignity bears himself nor how equals relate. I mean if Soren had actually shared some of the details, they couldve agreed to visit together and fought then and there when seeing Maris for the first time and then maybe, they could have realized the danger and worked out a plan. Like reducing the perimeter and getting her help to find aetherium first, then Rylen could secretly release her before they left. (Or maybe not, to the same result as now). Instead though, Soren helps the captain find the spirit while keeping Rylen in the dark. The way I see it, if Soren had been honest about the things he could have been from the beginning, this wouldn't have happened the same way. Their "friendship" doesn't seem like friendship to me.
Pete
I agree, Rylan righteously freeing the spirit was short sighted or incomplete, lifting one burden without considering cost to the others. Deciding to not to abandon the consequences and taking responsibility makes him such a strong side character for Stan (who really needs an important title, like Stan, Piercer of Destiny, or Divider of the Veil…)
Rah
Booo rylan needs to stop solely blaming himself it’s a mix of all of theirs
H.C. Mills
Exactly what I was shooting for, so that's nice to hear. ;)
JLG33
I expected a good luck kiss, and I was not disappointed! Running the champion dungeon is a dangerous plan, but also bold and seemingly necessary.
