by Marc Mulero
She just stared back at him, straight-faced.
“That’s what I thought. I say we embrace the shadows.”
Dee pushed off of him. “Yeah, brilliant idea. Then when we get lost and have no food, we just get to wither away in pitch blackness. Hoo-ray.”
Eres shook his head. “Fine. Food first. I’ve studied plenty of different food types – forest based, desert, and jungle. I can help.”
Ohndee snorted at the notion. “Yeah, okay. I’d love to let you make an ass of yourself by trying to dig up something edible, but we don’t have the time.”
She dug her heel deep into some muddy soil so she didn’t lose her place and then pushed a few overarching leaves from her path. A few green sparks burst in her face, which made it very hard for Eres to refrain from making fun, but he did. She looked back playfully upset, and then dove deeper to scrutinize some stems with little green grape-like growths clustered under one of stalks. They appeared juicy, inviting even. Ohndee picked one to inspect it and then tossed it aside.
“Very good,” Eres said haughtily. “Roons… veris condu.”
“Universal, please.”
“The berries are called Roons, and they are very poisonous. See the fluorescent green center? If it bursts in the roof of your mouth, it will freeze your joints in place… your jaw would be locked shut for a day at least.” He pretended like he’d just thought of a brilliant idea. “Actually, go ahead, Dee, maybe you should have one.”
A swift slap found his face as she giggled. “Jerk!”
“Alright, hot shot,” she continued, pointing to an oversized plant next to them that resembled an artichoke. “Name this herb.”
“It’s an Oeeda plant.” He shrugged at her. “Nothing of significance to note besides their spikey leaves.”
Now it was her turn to be smug. “Oh, so I guess the goo from their shallow roots are of no value to us, huh?”
Eres watched closely as Ohndee dug up a few stems.
She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers again. “Give me your pretty little blade, please.”
Eres snapped Proctor Vasa’s sword from its sheath and handed it over – a weapon too elegant for dirty work – but effective nonetheless. One cut separated a group of roots, leaving the goo to drip from the bottom of Ohndee’s newfound bouquet.
“Quick, a bowl, or something.”
“All I have is a thermal pouch!” Eres was defensive.
“Fine, open it.”
Together, they squeezed dark green paste into the makeshift container before Ohndee quickly sealed it shut. “Rich in vitamins, minerals, and will fill us with energy.”
“Hmm, didn’t know that,” Eres admitted.
“Practical knowledge always beats study.”
“Hah, now you’re really starting to sound like a traditional Swul.”
In the midst of more bickering, they searched for other Oeeda plants and alternative sources of food for later use. They went back and forth like a ping pong ball, throwing their knowledge and experience at one another, to each of their benefits, despite their spiritedly hostile methods.
Hours had passed, then days. They had been trying to get to the shadowed area identified on Eres’ live map, but somehow, despite their seemingly straight path traveled, they were making no progress. It was as if there was a glitch in the device, freezing every time they got near that particular mark. And in each instance, it wasn’t until they’d passed it that the live map would blink back to life.
The oddness wasn’t lost on Eres. He didn’t think it a coincidental malfunction, nor some nature-inspired anomaly. Instead, his instincts flared, telling him that they were close to something special, perhaps the great Jundicater that they sought. But Ohndee wasn’t so sure…
Both of them rested with their backs on a large stone, taking swigs of the fliser that Eres’ ooma had given him long ago.
“Maybe it’s time we take the road back to Ilfrid. It’s been days of circling with no progress. No signal or anything. And this thing is empty.” Dee shook the fliser upside down to illustrate her point.
“Keep it out in the open air as we walk, it will refill faster that way.” Eres avoided her initial suggestion.
“Handy little thing…” She almost fell for it. “Hey! You’re not planning on dying out here, are you?”
Eres flicked her nose. “I plan on finding Masarian Bo… whatever it takes. My fata gifted me this map knowing that I would eventually take up a Skrols journey. My destiny was preplanned before I knew the meaning of the word.”
“I have a feeling your dorky ass always knew the word.”
Eres cleared his throat. “My point is, that maybe my map is modified for this trial… maybe we’re not supposed to use technology?”
Ohndee huffed. “That’s inefficient. Why would anyone suggest something that stupid?”
Eres realized that Ohndee was frustrated, and that she had no intention to ever fully immerse herself in the way of the Skrols… but he did. This challenge made him think back to all of those outings with his ooma, with his father, Proctor Wudon - they all bore espers, and shared one common attribute despite their vast differences in character: confidence in themselves and their beliefs, without that hint of arrogance that came from others. They were comfortable in their skin in ways that Eres couldn’t explain to Ohndee. He knew that’s what he wanted for himself, and that’s when it hit him…
“Because, their purpose isn’t the same as others. Their history isn’t paved with shows of glory, or teamwork, or anything public for that matter. Everything is within their subtext.” He peered down at his masked finger. “Humbleness with intelligence, exquisiteness within modesty, talents under inaction, it’s all in here. Their impossible journeys quietly passed down… and if one thing is clear, it’s that as a Skrol… you have to learn to live with yourself.”
“Yeah, but where’s the comradery, the deliberation, the purpose? Every aspect of this life that makes it worth living, the Skrols seem to avoid.”
“You came on this journey knowing what I was after.”
“Because I’m with you!”
A pang of both guilt and affection intertwined in his gut at once.
“Don’t you see, Eres? This journey, though hard, feels right because we’re together. Imagine doing this alone.”
“Most of what I’ve done in my life has been in solitude, until I met you, to be honest. Of course, I’ve had help, but I’ve never really dived into anything locked arm in arm with someone else.”
“And how does it feel?” She turned fully to face him, so sure that he was about to accept that her mode of thinking was the right one.
There was a long moment of silence that Dee was tempted to break, but didn’t.
Eres nodded his head slowly and said, “Right… it feels right.”
Dee smacked the ground. “I knew it! I knew you felt it too.” Her excitement rose, despite being at her wits’ end in the jungle. “We’re Dawns, Eres. What’s the point of this life if we don’t find people to enjoy it with, together?”
Eres gazed back at her, slightly misty-eyed. “Sometimes there’s a point that’s predetermined, that’s bigger than what I want.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a growl that shook the grass at their feet. They both scrambled to help each other up, grabbed onto their bags, and hightailed it in the opposite direction. Eres cursed to himself as he led the way around large, obstructing leaves, hurdled over soft logs and past sparks that repeatedly burst in their faces. He missed the relative calmness of Dolseir in these moments. Critters and peaceful animals were apparent there, but in here, in the vast maze of Dundo-Ba, everything seemed oversized, including whatever wildlife was sharing the grounds with them.
The periodic growl lessened the further away they scurried. Perhaps it was a warning from some gargantuan creature, or maybe it was threatening some other trespasser of the jungle, but either way, they both stopped suddenly, hands to knees to catch their breath.
>
“What… was… that?” Eres questioned.
“S… Surs.”
“Surs!?” Eres was aghast.
“Definitely. Seen ‘em before in Sido training. In our grounds, Paulanta, our trainer used to hunt them for sport.” Dee rose once she felt stable. “Even a woman as deadly as she was missing fingers and had nasty scars as reminders that Surs were the king of the jungle.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’ve read plenty about them and studied the diagrams. I really hope you’re mistaken.”
“I’m not! But I also know that if they were following our scent, we’d probably be dead already, so… let’s just keep on this way, eh?”
Another day went by. Danger lessened in their minds since they were far out of reach of any audible growling. But the two unlikely travelers were parched, with no supplies, and relying on an empty yet refillable device to keep their bodies running. Turning it upside down to see not even a drip left made them begin to think the worst. It was an impatient panic, though, because waving it around for an hour in the humid air proved to do the trick. It refilled quickly, forming the purified liquid that their bodies craved, which in turn lifted their spirits over time. What’s more - new food sources presented themselves deeper in the jungle. Seeds buried deep in bulbous leaves were bursting with zest, so easily harvested by Ohndee and cleared by Eres, giving some much-needed flavor to this part of their journey. Things were looking up again, despite their overall lack of progress. Full bellies and quenched thirst saw to it.
This time, Ohndee was the one to trail off. She glimpsed a substance sticking from the dirt – marble-like in its shine, contrasting with everything else in this area. It was her mother’s keen eye that she’d inherited - an Artificer’s eye. She fell purposely to her knees and began digging like a dog intending to hide a bone, kicking dirt between her legs and eventually unearthing an orb that fit neatly in her palm.
“Look. At. This. Such a rare substance.”
“Hmm… looks like the stuff that Kovella was tinkering with,” Eres said mostly to himself.
“Kovella died over a hundred years ago. Inhaling too many plant fumes?”
“No, no… in Kor, we had a class where historical events were replicated, and when Kovella was creating the first version of Glite armor… the weapon she’d concocted to cut it was made up of broken orbs, that looked just like that.” He pointed.
“You are a perceptive Dawn… you recall an instant in a class from over five years ago so vividly?”
Eres shrugged. “I liked the class. History of War Tech with Proctor Vasa. She gave me this in the battle for Kor Vinsánce.” He unsheathed the blade and brandished it. Then, unbeknownst that it would occur, Ohndee’s voice faded to the background, and thoughts as though he were viewing an octor so vibrantly took over – he thought of the first time he saw Windel sitting in Proctor Vasa’s class. How happy he was to see her patting the tile next to her so he’d join. Things were simpler then, for there was only one secret he had to manage, that he was a Dawn, not the fate of the Skrols or anything like that.
“Are you listening?! I didn’t see your finger light up. Where did you go just now?” A concerned set of green eyes peeked closer into his personal space.
“Sorry, I’m here.”
“Good. As I was saying, this is Yuzin, Eres, a substance that can permanently alter a weapon’s Crule. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. You can’t be taught how to use a Crule blade without knowing.”
“Yes, I’m sure it’s been mentioned. Mostly cared for in the Colliding Spheres, right?”
“Good! It speaks to status, how worldly a fighter is, how well traveled and sharp-witted. Imagine showing up there with a unique Crule blade.” She squealed like a school girl. “The glory…” Now she was daydreaming.
“Um, hello!” Eres waved a hand in her face to draw her back.
She shook her head so the Swul beads clapped against her forehead. “Sorry! Well, you, sir, are half-way there already with that fancy thing in your hand. A red runic scimitar, treasure of a famous Kor… but the Crule it’s laced with,” she coughed like it made her sick, “leaves a lot to be desired.”
“This helped me save a lot of people who meant something to me.” Eres pulled back the blade close to his chest.
“I don’t doubt it, but imagine the fear you would strike in KQ’s hearts, or in Seren Night’s, if your Crule was the composition of something other than a bland flame.”
Eres couldn’t lie because he was intrigued by the idea, however skeptical. “Did your mota teach you? How much do you know?”
“Pfft… I spent most of my childhood nights in her workstation with her. I can make that a Champion’s weapon. Give it here.”
Eres was hesitant.
“What, don’t trust me?” She smirked mockingly, and then spread her arms to either side to remind him of the situation she chose to delve into beside him.
He nodded as if to silently say ‘you have a point,’ and handed it over to her, hilt first.
“Want to learn something, or what?”
“Sure.”
“Good, then you’ll be my assistant for today.” She beamed at him, knowing that he would hate the idea.
He just puffed his cheeks and looked on while she proceeded to perform a series of odd movements near the end of the hilt to disconnect a piece of it.
“This here is your Crule cartridge.”
“I know what it is, but I never saw it on its own before.”
“Well, it’s not easy to.” Dee raised her chin. “If it could be done on a whim, everyone’s cartridges would be falling out during battle.”
“Good point. So… what’s so special about this black orb Yuzin thing?”
“It’s Yuzin-O, whereas yours is currently Yuzin-E. I mean as it stands, it’s not bad… just so freakin’ common. This one, however - a mineral found in the depths of a jungle? Not so much.”
Ohndee began to dismantle the cartridge to the point where the glowing rod was exposed to the air. She then took a rock from beside her and gently began to crack open the orb like a chef would an egg. When Eres got too close, she shoved him back and hunched closer to better focus. A smoky liquid dripped out of it like molten lava that somehow wasn’t hot.
She poured the fluid over the rod while twisting it, seemingly counting seconds to herself, and then gracefully curbed the cracked orb, sat it upright in the grass, and re-covered the cartridge. Before Eres could even ask a question, she pulled the cartridge up to her face to better measure this seemingly precise process. Better not to interrupt.
“You see the dark liquid seeping deeper and clumping up?” She spoke without taking her eyes off of it. “Yeah, that’s not good. Yuzin-O needs to be spread evenly to take over, otherwise your lovely glowing E will just consume it and you would have no change.”
“So how do you-” Eres began until Dee’s abrupt action cut him off.
She shook the cartridge right before Yuzin-O made it to the bottom.
“Weird science,” Eres said, watching intently.
“Indeed. That’s why not a lot of people are Artificers. It’s mostly Swuls, really, since we’re so hellbent on glory and status.
“Ack!” She saw some of the bright orange glow begin to overwhelm the darkness at the bottom of the rod. “Shh! You distracted me!”
Eres could only laugh at the ridiculous statement as she quickly unraveled the cartridge and poured a bit more of Yuzin-O into the bottom of the rod, closed it, and shook it again.
“Too much O would deplete the replenishment substance that has already intertwined itself with E.”
“Oy, delicate.”
“Mmm.” She swished O around the cartridge and watched it carefully, now looking like a mad scientist amidst a jungle.
“Boom. There you have it.” Dee marveled at her completed masterpiece, an orange Crule hilt swimming in smokey grey. She then stuffed it back into Vasa’s magnificent blade, repeated the complex movements she’d done to ge
t the cartridge free, but in reverse, and presented Eres his upgraded weapon.
“Give it a try!” she said excitedly.
“It’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?” he asked half-seriously.
Her expression comically dropped. “Maybe I should’ve planned it that way,” she murmured while shoving the flat of the blade onto his chest.
He grabbed it reluctantly and inspected it before trying a few swipes. “Feels exactly the same.”
“Well… it’s not like Crule is going to make it heavier, jackass. Try it out.”
“Fine.”
Eres opened with a spinning slash that he’d used to overpower Ohndee countless times before. In the midst of his whirl, the blade ignited into a smoky show, still somewhat flame-like, but mostly puffs of smolder.
His eyes were lit with excitement when his strike was done, finger still pressed on the Crule igniter. He was in awe, admiring the significant upgrade in aesthetic.
Ohndee folded her arms and waited with a smug look.
“Never saw anything like this. Sick!” he exclaimed.
“What? It’s not sick… your sword isn’t ill just because it’s black now…” Ohndee tilted her head in confusion.
“No. No… it means amazing. I heard someone in this esper use the term when she was excited. Anyway… this is amazing work, Ohndee. You must be very talented because I’ve never seen Crule like this.”
She shrugged. “Guess you’ve never been to the Colliding Spheres then.”
“Guess not.” He sheathed the blade, now infinitely more interested in Artificers, Crule, and everything else in between. “Do the attributes of my scimitar change? Can I cut through Glite more easily with O over E?”
“It penetrates about the same, but you’ll notice that your radius is marginally larger, and you should refill a tick faster as well. ‘The slight edges in battle that an Artificer provides could mean life or death’ my mother used to say.”
“I… can’t thank you enough, Ohndee.”
“Save it. You got me out of Elesion. I still owe you, unfortunately.”
That evening, the two snuggled up beside a downed tree. Its outer layers were soft like a cool blanket, making it feel as though they were taking a peaceful dip in a pool on a hot summer night. There was no growling this time, nor any other startling movements, just the endless swaying of some oversized leaves. The jungle of Dundo-Ba was rhythmic, lulling them to sleep whether they liked it or not.
