Ymiden 93 Arc 719
It had taken him a while to get back out of the city and into the forests up north of Etzos. After having a rather unfortunate encounter with a certain Mr. Magpie, the Mortalborn had been unwilling to leave right away. Surely that they had expected him to, which was all the more reason not to. Or perhaps they knew that he knew that they expected him to, and the ploy was meant to keep him inside so he was easier to track down or keep an eye on. However, maybe they knew that he knew that they knew that he knew—
Mind games and the confusion they brought aside, Oberan had been looking over his shoulder for a dozen days or so, keeping his head down, staying clear of his own home, in case that ghost girl –who could be invisible—was staking the place out.
Another reason he had not left right away was the need for a new Vault. With his house compromised, he felt he needed a new place to stash all his stuff. Sure, through his ability nothing could be taken out of the Vault, but the ghost and Magpie could still get in. Oberan did not know what they would do in there, but he did know that he did not want them to go through his stuff.
So he needed a new Vault, one that was more difficult to find, and harder to enter. Fortunately, he knew just the place. However, to win time and save himself the trips back and forth he would have to make when Dismantling one Vault and Designating another. Basically, he would need to transfer all his belongings to the new Vault-to-be, then go back to the old one to Dismantle it, and return to the new location to Designate it.
Which meant that the Orb would come in quite handy. If the ether storms died down, and it could begin recharging again, that is. Fortunately for him, they had a couple days ago, and the Orb was once again filling itself up with magical energy, ready for use.
All those factors brought Oberan to the entrance of a certain cave deep in the woods. Apart from being a landmark itself, there wasn’t anything special about this location. Just like any other random spot of forest, this one was dense with trees, had soft earthy underground, and loads of twigs laying around. Dead leaves were strewn about. Bushes of different shapes and sizes grew in between the thick trunks of deciduous foliage.
The cave itself was a hole in a hill of sorts. A small grassy bump with roots slithering woodenly all over. Some rocks sat embedded in the earth of the entrance, and clumps of grass hung down from the top like bangs of hair.
Crawling inside, there was a shaft that plunged downwards at an angle, more hard stone than soft dirt. At his slow pace, it took a minute or two to get to the larger chamber the tunnel lead into. Here the smell of guano was strong and pungent, a layer of the stuff covering just about every square inch of rock. Those who’d dropped it clung to the ceiling, huddled together in a mass of furry bodies and membrane wings.
With his Daylight Stone in a clenched fist, beams of light spilled from between his fingers, illuminating his path. Oberan moved quietly as to not disturb the bats’ well-earned rest, tip-toeing closer to another corridor that would lead him further inwards. He had to squeeze through a crack, the walls of the cavern too close together to fit through otherwise. Beyond, there was another chamber, albeit smaller than the last. Cleaner too, due to fewer bats. The opening was too tight for them to fit through in flight en masse, no matter how acrobatic the fluffy creatures were. A lone flier could slip through easily enough tough, and when clambering in, the small space also formed no obstacle.
This was where the Mortalborn had lived for about a season, hidden away from the world and Lisirra’s wrath. Bat droppings aside, the place was quite a pleasant change of scenery. Very quiet too.
His objective lied even further inwards though.
In a corner of his former campsite sat an inconspicuous pool of stagnant water. After summoning a length of coiled rope, the thief undressed, and tied one end of the rope to a stalagmite near the water. Then, he sought out the few bats in this part of the cave, and began to syphon his Thrill into them, draining his own. An angry squeaking told him he’d woken at least one of them up in the process, but it couldn’t be helped. He apologized anyway.
Only when his heartbeat and breathing rhythm had slowed significantly, and the lethargy grabbed hold of him did he stop. Reluctantly he returned to the pool, finding that lying down for a nap was a far more tempting activity than swimming through a tunnel with bat droppings and who knows what else in it. Still, he went through with it, tying the rope around his waist, and jumping right in.
The temperature of the water was quite unpleasant, as was the knowledge –and the lack thereof—what had been dropped into it. Oberan did his best not to think about it. Instead he swam, pushing himself forward with his arms and legs, scooping liquid out of the way. One hand still held the Daylight Stone, which made his progress a bit slower. Seeing where he was going was preferable to speed though, and besides, the uncertainty of the duration spent underwater was why he’d drained his own Thrill in the first place.
Usually, he drained others and pumped himself up, increasing his blood flow, blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rhythm, tension in the body, and usually also impulsivity. Resulting in the honing focus, reflexes, strength, and even cognitive and observational skills. It also flooded the body with adrenaline, and caused the body to burn though its energy reserves dangerously fast. On the flip side, it decreased the sensation of pain, shut down the gastrointestinal system, and redirected blood and energy to the muscles and brain.
Decreasing one’s Thrill had the exact opposite effect. Blood pressure was lowered, as was the flow of it. The heart rate and breathing rhythm slowed down, in some cases to a crawl. It promoted breaking down food into nutrients, the buildup of the body’s reserves. Allowing the body to relax as a whole, relieving tension. Most people felt refreshed when the effect wore off on them.
Whereas the increase in Thrill resulted in an increase in resources consumed by the body, a decrease did the opposite. As the body slowed down, it required less food to be eaten. Less air needed to be inhaled as less of it needed to be used as fuel.
And that was important. Oberan had swam through this tunnel before. He knew it was too long to make it to the other side with the lung capacity of a mortal man. A mer could do it, perhaps an Ithecal too, some mages, of course. Ordinary people –like Oberan, should he not have been born a Mortalborn—could not. They would drown. If one needed less air to sustain themselves though, the journey was more than possible. Sure, his body felt sluggish, his mind was jumping from one thought to the other, but neither were hindrances in this situation. There was no need for speed, there was no need for pinpoint focus. All that was required was the paddling of arms and legs, slowly but steadily propelling him forwards.
After a little of five minutes, he broke through the surface on the other side, feeling the burn of deoxygenation begin to warm his lungs. He raised himself out of the water, finding more effort than normal was poured into the simple action. Out of the cooling liquid, without the sound of sloshing and the tinge of cold to keep him awake, the lethargy got to him fast. Oberan sat himself down against a cavern wall, unable to stop his eyelids from falling closed.
He woke after an uncertain amount of time. Possibly not more than a minute or fifteen, a powernap, so to speak. As expected, he did feel quite refreshed now, despite smelling like swamp murk. Oberan summoned the Daylight Stone into his palm, illuminating most of the chamber in a couple seconds. He noticed the rope was still bound around his waist, so he quickly undid the knot and tied it around a sturdy-looking stalagmite instead.
Finally, he could take a good look at the room he was in. Stalagmites and stalactites clung to the floor and ceiling, growing towards each other, hoping for an embrace. The room was shaped irregularly, not adhering to geometric shapes in the slightest. Walls curved and squiggled, creating wide and tight spaces. At the far end of the room another tunnel curved away, though it ended in a wall ten paces beyond the bend. In terms of size, this chamber was larger than the previous one, but smaller than the bats’ roost. Definitely large enough for a Vault though. Apart from the submerged tunnel, Oberan’s inspection did not reveal any other entrances or exits large enough for even a child to fit through. Importantly, the air wasn’t stale, so there definitely was a connection to aboveground, albeit indirectly.
This should do just fine.
The next couple hours were spent summoning just about everything from his current Vault to the new location. In actuality, it was not a necessary step of the process, but Oberan wanted to be as efficient as possible as the whole thing was incredibly time consuming. If he did not empty out his Vault beforehand, he would need to go back there to retrieve all the items left behind. Also, with Magpie and Kasoria possibly lying in wait, the less time spent in a compromised location, the better. Not to mention, when the Vault was Dismantled, all objects previously stored could be taken, which was impossible as long as they were in the Vault. By summoning the items here, however, all he needed to do was Dismantle the Vault, and go back to the cave, which he would Designate as his new Vault.
Slow and boring as the task was, Oberan kept at it, preferring to get it done as soon as possible. One by one, everything was brought into the cave. There were lead balls, keys, gold nels, playing cards, clothes, thieves’ tools, chairs, rags, a crystal gauntlet, et cetera. Just about his whole hoard, his whole collection.
When that was finally done, after what seemed like an eternity, the Mortalborn tried summoning the Rupturing Orb to his hand, only to realize that, no, it wouldn’t work since it wasn’t in the Vault anymore. Instead, he had to sift through all the other junk to find it, annoyed at himself for not keeping it for last. Eventually, he did get his hands on it.
One finger traced a rune on the smooth sphere’s surface, then tapped the orb four times—and then he stopped. He gave the artefact a moment to rest, then rolled it over the floor of the cavern before scooping it back up. One bright flash was emitted from within; this exact location had been memorized. Good. He restarted the series of gestures he’d been using previously, completing them by placing his free hand on top of the orb. For a moment, nothing happened. Abruptly though, there was a thunderclap, and before the naked thief a large oblong portal stretched the fabric of space itself.
Orb in hand, Oberan stepped through, feeling the pull and acceleration of his body covering a too-long distance in a single step. Vomit crept upwards but was kept inside. He did not want to soil his own floorboards. Around him, his own living room felt quite empty without all the junk –treasures, really—lying about. More importantly, no Magpie nor ghost child were in sight. He didn’t feel an unnerving presence either, so they probably weren’t here.
Best to make haste either way though.
Focusing for a moment, frown crinkling his brow, he could feel his power woven through the entirety of the small house. It pulsed and shimmered, echoing like a cold and empty room. Oberan broke down the walls, making them fold inwards again and again and again, until the whole Vault was the size of a piece of paper that would fit in a pocket. Currently, without pants, the Mortalborn did not have pockets, so he absorbed the Vault back into himself. The feeling vanished, his power was no longer here.
Content, he stepped backwards through his portal, touching the orb on the ground on the other side. Instantly, the gateway ceased to exist.
Well, now that was done, he could begin setting up the new Vault, and start placing his hoard back into it.
He sighed.
This was the hardest part.
