by Noam Oswin
She laughed. “When Zimra found me, he was disappointed. He cursed me. He told me, ‘you shall wander Alamir forever, in search of a purpose you shall never find, and meet a pathetic end.’ I did. For years. For over two hundred years I wandered, entering small towns and settlements, freezing to death everything and everyone I encountered. The White Death they started to call me. I believed this was my destiny. To merely roam Alamir, bringing cold and nothingness, until I encountered the one that would finally end me.”
“But something changed.”
“Erzili found me.” Onna’s lips twitched. “Erzili approached me, untouched to my frost, my cold. With a beautiful form and a smile, Erzili stretched out a hand, and gave me a purpose. Erzili undid my curse with three simple words –”
It was the first time I saw the ice-woman smile. “Be My Darling.”
Onna crossed her arms. She averted her gaze away from me, staring into the sky. “I need not think of a purpose. Erzili’s will is my will. Erzili’s purpose is my purpose. Erzili is all I live for. For all the power you have, to me, Erzili will always be worth a million of you.”
Absolute, unwavering devotion. A small part of me respected Onna for it. A small part of me questioned, if Erzili knew just how much Onna was devoted, and just to what extent the Yuki-Onna would go. Who am I kidding? Erzili knew.
Erzili understood most definitely, certainly, knew.
Dusting my hands, I pointed north.
“What do you think lays beyond those trees?”
“That direction…” It took her a few seconds. “Krvavi Lagoon?” She snapped her gaze to me. “You – you can’t be serious.”
“If you can kill Giggles, not only do you become much stronger, you also find yourself in Erzili’s favor. You, Onna, not me, the Demiurge, were the one to destroy Giggles and claim Krvavi Lagoon for Fort Zyvar. You’d have succeeded at a task that I was meant to do. I imagine Erzili will reward you bountifully.”
I understood how Onna worked. She would die, for Erzili. Jump in front of a train at a moment’s notice for Erzili. She would throw her hand into her chest and rip out her heart if Erzili commanded it.
Getting her to respect me as Erzili’s Master would never work. She would loathe it and hate me for it all the way. Making it so I brought her closer to the one object of her desire, however, to the one thing in the universe she followed and revered more than anything –
That was the method I would use to turn Onna from my enemy, into my confidant.
“How?” she asked. The interest was in her eyes immediately. “Krvavi Lagoon is surrounded by a deadly mist that makes it impossible to navigate through. There is also the toxic laughing fog and the endless number of Mistlings, and Giggles is said to be as strong, if not stronger than Leader Erzili – ”
“You’re saying you don’t believe you can do it?”
“I said no such thing.”
“Then, we shall triumph.”
I clinked my armor into place.
“For Erzili – you said you would do anything?”
The frost-woman nodded. “Anything.”
“Then, follow me, and let us test the true power of your devotion.”
/∞/
In my second life as the creature known as Janus, I’d undergone a series of battles. My first was the Fight Against the Fire Ant, which I lost horribly, as I was a worm. My second was Battle Against Agkistrodon, which I won by sheer determination after being swallowed. Following that, was my Assault Against the Ant Colony. I conquered an entire colony of fire ants and earned my [Genocidal] title for it. The following battle was the Assault on Refuge Rock, where I lost, was killed, by the Kadulja of the Druids, and thus became an undead creature.
In terms of the number of victories versus losses, I seemed almost even. Except, it wasn’t true. I had failed, a thousand times more than I had succeeded. [Duality] was the power to fail and try again. The power to learn from your mistakes, and attempt a second try. For every victory I earned, there was at least one prior loss.
Approaching Krvavi Lagoon with Onna behind me told me instinctively that I would not be able to win without first suffering a humbling defeat. The fog was unbelievably, disgustingly thick. Thick enough for me to have to rely on my High Ghilan senses to navigate, and even that was not enough. [Thermal Sensing], [Serpent Olfactory Sensing], [Greater Rabbit Ear], and [Wolf’s Tracking] were applied judiciously to give me the ability to navigate through the fog. My World Map was blurred over as well, meaning that only someone with an absurd number of navigational abilities would ever stand a chance in making their way through.
Fortunate for me, unfortunate for anyone else.
“Don’t let go of my hand.”
Onna couldn’t see in the fog. I could make her out, thanks to [Thermal Sensing] as an overwhelmingly blue, feminine shape. My gaze could also make out other, smaller blue shapes in the fog. The nightmares were called Mistlings. Small, tiny little devils with ugly faces, sharp teeth, claws, and a perpetually present laugh.
They vanished and reappeared, vanished and reappeared, a large group circling Onna and I. They were what one had if one mixed imps with ninjas and smokescreen. Utilizing the fog to their benefit, they could disappear and turn invisible within the mist, and then reappear behind you, sharp claws and fangs ready to tear you to shreds.
For the most part, they had not attacked yet, and instead, were only watching. That was good.
“I can’t see anything.”
“Focus on the mist. Try to sense it.”
“Sense? Do I look like a hunting dog?”
“Your Epithet Skill is [Frigidity] isn’t it? Use it.”
“How did you know that?”
I blinked. How did I know that? I knew what her Epithet Skill was without her ever mentioning it. Was it because she was a nightmare in my Domain?
“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you haven’t been using it to its full extent. Watch.”
[Ice Manipulation] was my reward skill from killing Onna in a previous timeline. I rose my hand into the air, focusing, hard, on the fog. Fog and mist were still water at the end of the day. [Ice Manipulation] allowed me to control ice and all its other derivatives. I willed the fog, to clear and backed it up with as much MP as I could spare.
The Mistlings ran, letting out angry desperate cries as the fog pushed away from them, swirling like a tornado of clouds and letting the environment become visible.
[Flanking Immunity Activated]
My body spun without my input. My right hand swung out grabbing the neck of the Mistling that tried to attack me from behind. I clenched and the tiny creature’s neck snapped like it was made of bamboo. I tossed it into the air, waiting until it was at the right speed before punting it with my right leg into the horizon.
[Mistling x1 Killed]
[4,000 Experience Points Gained]
[The title {Genocidal} has come into effect for the species {Mistling}]
[25 Genocide Points Earned]
“Watch your back. The Mistlings don’t take kindly to me clearing the weather.”
Onna stared at my hand. “You can control the fog?”
“So can you.”
“All I can control is ice. Freeze things and create things but nothing more. I can’t turn my ice into water. I’ve tried several times to no avail.”
Well that’s odd. [Ice Manipulation] that allowed me to control water was most definitely a skill I got from Onna. I wagered either she was not yet at a level high enough to do so, or she did not have the necessary amount of MP to do so.
“If you can’t control the fog, focus on getting rid of the Mistlings –”
“I can’t even see them –”
Cackling sounds erupted from around us. Traveling through the mist. The Mistlings possessed a primitive sort of intelligence, as they were not named creatures. Yet, even that primitive intelligence was enough to understand the simple strategy of eliminating the weakest link.
“Look out!”
[Diamond Bullet] filled the fog with the echo of supersonic cracks. Two more Mistlings fell, and Onna turned just in time to see them. I aimed, again, listening for the cackling, searching the fog for the signatures of life, and fired. One more fell from bullet to the center of the skull.
“The fog is increasing!” Onna called.
Swearing underneath my breath, I noticed the thickness of the fog double. “I can’t protect you and clear the fog at the same time.”
“Then don’t protect me! Just clear the – “
The Mistling blindsided her. Sharp claws raked down the side of her face as she let out a furious cry. Hands appeared from within the fog, latching to her ankles. I swore.
“Onna!”
The hands dragged her further into the fog and I took off in pursuit. Nothing was going as I anticipated. However, it was fine. I was still calm. In another timeline, Onna was still safe, waiting impatiently with me while I ran this timeline. If she died here, I’d abandon this timeline and resume from the other one.
“Get your hands off me you pathetic maag!”
A pillar of ice rose from the ground, forming into a sharp blade. Onna emerged from it. Blue blood dripped down the side of her face. She kept her guard up in the fog, cautious and watching for Mistlings.
“You…” I pressed my lips together as I made out the pillar of ice through the fog. I’d seen her create blades. Create swords. Create a snowflake-shaped shuriken. “…don't have a lot of imagination.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can freely shape your ice. Are knives, blades and jagged icicles really the only things you can think of making?”
“What else is there?”
“A shield. A chain that instantly freezes what it comes in contact with. A bow and arrow. Platforms that you can stand on or use to deflect attacks. A staircase, to elevate yourself to higher ground. Perhaps even, puppets of ice to use as distractions.”
She blanched at me. “What…” Her nose furrowed. Her lips opened, ready to give some sort of rebuttal, but then closed shortly after.
“Staircase,” I said. “Now.”
For once, Onna did not complain. A freezing staircase of ice rose from beneath our feet, taking us higher and higher, up and above the Mistlings at the ground. Onna, let out a cackle as we continued to ascend, leaving me crossing my arms.
“Your problem is a lack of imagination.”
“I’m not a minstrel, bard or poet. I was never raised to be able to conjure things from empty air. I grew being taught to serve above all else. What use would a toy have for imagination?”
“…touché.”
“What?”
“It’s a… Marién expression. It means I concede.”
The staircase of ice rose further, and I began to focus on clearing the fog once more. The more I thought it over, the more I understood. Onna and I were worlds apart in terms of the level of education. She had been a poor commoner from the streets as a human, educated for the ultimate purpose of being a servant. I highly doubted they would give her novels and books to read and broaden her horizons.
Her power let her control ice. Create, shape and form ice. Unlike me, who could instantly think of using that power to create a thousand things in a thousand ways, Onna’s mind couldn’t extrapolate outward. She couldn’t envision creating an escalator of ice because she didn’t know what an escalator was. She couldn’t consider creating ice grenades because she’d never seen a grenade in action and did not know how it would work.
I possessed a repertoire of knowledge from fiction about individuals with cryokinesis who used it to do all manner of things from creating talking snowmen with carrot-noses to summoning their abominable counterparts or making clones of ice as traps, but Onna had no such frame of references to draw inspiration.
Not only Onna. Most nightmares – perhaps even Arol and Wunder.
“Onna,” I began. The fog was clearing up quickly. “Do you know what a tray is?”
“In Takum, such a thing clearly does not exist. Even the kings and queens must hold their hot meals in hand as custom demands.”
“Sarcasm. Excellent. Had we not been deep in enemy territory, I would almost appreciate it.” I said dryly. “Use your powers to create a tray, but circular. Make the front end and the back end sharp, like a blade.”
She molded the object, muttering underneath her breath. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Stand on it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Do you want to lose more fingers? Stand on it.”
She did, wobbly standing on the board of ice, but immediately locking into place. “How…?”
“I noticed you don’t lose your balance when standing on ice. That’s good. Now, create a constant stream of ice from below the board using your feet. Imagine the board is a flame, and the ice you create is a trail of smoke.”
The fog cleared up, as did the Mistlings vanish, and I found myself standing on a frozen staircase several dozen feet in the air, helping Onna gain her balance as she stood on a board of ice.
“Now accelerate.”
With some trial and error, some, which took her getting used to creating a layer of ice as she moved, standing on the board. She was a quick study if nothing else, and in a matter of minutes, I had taught Onna the basics of a skill that would immediately skyrocket her aerial maneuverability.
The Yuki-Onna laughed as she shot through the air on her board, ice trailing behind her. “What… what do you call this activity?”
“Surfing,” I said. “Normally you’d need a large body of water and a wave, but we’re cheating with ice, so you can surf anywhere at any time.”
Though, this is less of surfing and more of you using an ice-powered hoverboard… Explaining exactly what a hoverboard was supposed to be would be too bothersome. For now, surfing was simpler.
The Yuki-Onna had a brilliant smile on her face as she zipped back and forth across the air, propelled by a disc of ice, laughing all the while. Without my input, she already started performing tricks, a 360 spin, a nosedive, a handstand, and going above and beyond to discard her board, pirouette in the air, and create a new one without losing any momentum.
She doesn’t have any imagination… but once she creates something, she knows instinctively how to make the best use of it. Intriguing. Useful. Does this only apply to her, or the other nightmares as well?
“Don’t stray too far. Remember, we’re still in enemy territory.”
She laughed, some more, ignoring my call.
“Onna. Enough.”
She didn’t stop. She was laughing. She continued laughing, zipping back and forth, laughing harder, and harder, and louder and louder. Her laugh changed from being filled with glee to being manic, uncontrollable. She rushed back at me, landing atop the icy staircase, and grasping my helm.
“H-ha – hahaha – hahahahahahaha!”
She tried to speak. Yet, before she could utter any words, she would start laughing again, laughing and grasping her chest. Laughing and slamming her head against my knee. For a brief moment, the laughter would stop, and she would open her lips, only for her to start laughing anew.
“Ha -hahahahaha – h-he- hahahahaha -me – haha!”
Help Me.
“This is…”
With one hand, she dragged me off the staircase of ice. The Lagoon was crystal clear below us. The fog was gone. Onna’s manic laughter continued, as we descended, her finger pointing straight toward a creature standing atop the clear water.
Giggles
[He Who Laughs Last]
[Elder One of Cosmic Humor]
[Ancestral Deity of Krvavi Lagoon]
Nuckelavee
Level ?
Chapter 17: Revelations
[Path A: Janus]
“Elder One?”
“It is a title given to a nightmare who has lived, at the barest minimum, nine-hundred and sixty-nine years,” Erzili explained. “An Elder One has their maste
ry alongside their title to indicate what the Elder One has mastered in the years they have been alive. Erzili is the Elder One of Ecstasy, which indicates all the years Erzili pursued and invested in the field of attaining mastery of human pleasure.”
Erzili sat on the bed, crossing her legs. “Erzili’s mastery of pleasure was the reason Erzili was approached, one day, by a mysterious being who at the time simply went by ‘The Dreamer’ bestowing the position and title of Night Emperor of Lust.”
“What does it mean, the title of Night Emperor?”
“There were seven of us originally, each one named after the seven vices. Two others eventually joined in, and we became known as the Nine Night Emperors. We were strong, darling. So strong that at the height of our power, all nine of us together nearly defeated an Anathema. We commanded territories spanning half a continent and had armies and vast Domains larger than countries. We were the strongest nightmares in Alamir, capable of challenging Champions. Alas, darling… it wasn’t to be.”
I frowned. “What happened?”
“The Dreamer happened. He was convinced, that Alamir wouldn’t last another thousand years. He said that we should all abandon ship. He argued there were numerous realities, universes, and timelines, some running parallel from ours. He urged us to leave Alamir and become gods in another reality.”
Erzili shook her head. “We believed it. We had no reason not to. The Dreamer’s Epithet Skill allowed him to foretell the future, so if he saw that the world was to end, we were inclined to trust him and search for greener pastures. Some of us were eager. Erzili agreed to Dreamer’s plans.”
Erzili waved her hand. “There was a machine constructed with thousands of enslaved Alamirians to take us across worlds – or so we believed. Ultimately, we realized too late that it was all the Dreamer’s ploy. There were no other worlds. The machine ripped the vast majority of us of our powers, and the Dreamer gained all of our Epithet Skills and powers for himself. His goal, he said, his true goal, was to challenge Alamir.”
“Challenge… Alamir?” I tested the words. “Challenge the world? I don’t understand.”
