B6 Chapter 31: Old Crone

Ellena had the weirdo strung up like leather being dried for tanning. The chains held up each arm while she pulled out an assortment of vials from a drawer. One by one, she used a dropper to splash the contents onto their skin.

I cocked my head and scanned the figure. It was obvious they weren’t human. While the face was humanoidal and could be passed off as such, the rest of the body was less so. Scales of blue stretched down the skin where the robe had lifted. They were dull, faded, with less shine. 

Glancing upward, I caught the webbed hands with small, cat-like claws at the end where nails should be. Moving down, I noticed the legs were bent in digitigrade, something I had only seen a couple of times on a few beastkins. For the most part, beastkins had animal-like features, especially for their heads, but they retained plantigrade legs. Bipedal tigers who walked with their heels planted, even if said held up paws, or clawed feet.

My eyes narrowed as I caught the shine of gold coming off the left leg. It took me a second to figure out why it bothered me, but only then did I notice the difference. 

“Is that a prosthetic? Why? You could have it regrown. Is it an aesthetic choice?” I asked.

Ellena frowned. “Not every person has access to a noble’s money or skills. Luckily, Myi’thana was able to sell her services to a fine enough craftsman.”

“So it is metal,” Khrem hummed. “I assume the wound is too old for normal regeneration.”

“More than three decades. Otherwise, I would have paid the sum to have it healed,” Ellenna confirmed.

I frowned. For a wound to be too old meant more than just the body adapting. It’s the same reason why healing can be botched even if done directly. It was why adventurers are trained to set their bones correctly, lest they heal wrong. 

Syrreisha lectured me briefly on the subject during my time in the guild. 

Beyond the physical, the Weave connected a person to their souls in a way humans on earth could only imagine in movies and books. The soul was something most kids were taught to feel to some degree. 

For a wound to take too long to heal means that her soul has changed and now views the injury as something more permanent. Obviously, that doesn’t entirely remain true, as there will always be a disconnect barring niche circumstances, but it made healing difficult. 

Let alone regeneration…

I walked forward and raised a hand to the woman’s face, but found the chains creak as Ellena stepped closer.

“Our deal remains. Do not harm her. She has done much for my crew,” Ellena said stiffly.

“Again, I’m not that monstrous.” I ignored the feedback from Galarion’s skimming and used my thumb to lift an eyelid. Instead of red pupils, what I saw were hazy green, like seaweed. “I’m guessing the crimson glow is from a skill activation?”

A snort of air pushed against my hand and the old woman shook herself away. “Bah! Unhand me, you serviperrant!”

“Serviperrant?”

“It’s a type of sea monster. A nasty one who traps and turns their prey into blood sacks while feeding them venom. The venom makes your nerves feel as if they are on fire. Apparently, it changes the flavor of the blood once mixed to something sweeter. I’ve yet to get my hands on a vial,” Sereza explained.

“Huh. Well, that’s a first.”

“There’s also another name for the creature, depending on which continent you hail from. Those of the south call it ‘the blood demon’s maw.’ Mostly due to its twin horns,” Khrem added.

“Fitting,” I said, rolling my eyes.

The woman has escaped her chains as she was currently being guided into a chair by the captain. Her walk was uneven, but she managed to sit on her own. As she did, she scanned around with a gummy scowl that revealed pointed teeth.

“Where is my–”

The crone’s yelling stopped as Teldrin held out her cane. She eyed the boy with a frown before shaking her head and accepting her walking stick. “Thank you, child.”

“Of course,” Teldrin said.

Ellena cleared her throat. “Myi. What was the reason for intruding?”

“I only intrude when it’s important!” Myi spat.

“Important enough to risk my life?”

The old lady scowled, but some of her venom faded. She shot a glare in my direction, but I noticed she didn’t look at me, merely around me.

“I had a vision.”

Ellena straightened and nodded. “Proceed. They can hear it.”

“A silver coin appeare,d splashing into dark grey basin. When it rippled the water, monstrous jaws sprang forth and dragged it into the depths. It fought back, with lines of fire and blood that sent screams in the air, but all turned to black as a spear made of glowing crystal sliced the basin in two,” Myi recounted with a lost daze. Her eyes briefly flashed with a red tint, but she coughed and leaned forward. “There’s a rift. Hungry, moving. It lies in the belly of a raging tide that rises to the surface. Lightning spewed from its center. It’s coming, and it is stirring the sleeping giants in its wake.”

The crone collapsed forward, but a chain caught her and held her in place. Ellena handed her a potion and some water. It took a few minutes, but eventually the old woman settled, her hacking reduced to a haggard breath. Whether that was the baseline for her, I couldn’t tell, but through her eyes,  I caught her scanning the room.

She eyed every member of my party, even Teldrin, as mana flashed in sporadic bursts around her eyes. Every member, except me.

I stepped forward, and the woman froze.

“Interesting. Galarion?”

“Fear! Annoyance! Terror! MUST NOT LOOK!” Galarion bubbled.

I crouched down and waved, finding the hag glancing away with desperation.

“What’s your deal, huh? I hope you didn’t do something just now. Hiding your skill activation with  your coughing is clever; you almost could disguise it as your body reacting poorly and fluctuating your mana channels.” I glanced at Ellena. “Although… I am starting to think your captain is worse than a leader than I thought. First, the idiocy with Rigger. Then the hidden blades passed as simple servants. Now this? Spill, or I’ll make Ellena here speak for you. Your choice.”

“Don’t touch her!” Myi shouted.

“So?”

“I was,” she coughed, and this time her mana remained inert. “I was evaluating their danger.”

“Explain.”

Myi glanced at Ellena, who nodded. “I have a skill called Remnants of Hollow. It lets me see an aura around those I view. It’s divination-based. Allows me to see if there is impending danger around their souls.”

“Danger around their souls? Really?”

“I do not lie. It’s hard to describe unless you see it for yourself.”

Simple enough.

I reached forward, and before Ellena or the woman could react, I grabbed her hand and pressed my palm against her temple. Sliding into her mind was easy, as unprepared as she was, she all but surrendered herself to my probing. 

Galarion grabbed what was important and I pulled back. Memories flittered through and I cast them aside until I found the right ones. I watched through the crone’s eyes, seeing tendrils of what looked like pure mana stretch outward from Sereza’s body. Near her core, the colors bled into pink with a blip of red at the center. 

There was an impression, but it was faint. Each of my team members had nearly the same threads, except one. Teldrin. Where the others felt calm, almost neutral in their stances. Teldrin’s thread splayed and split, readjusting and restitching by the second. The pink bled down the outer threads.

Changing of the tide. Uncertain. Unknown.

I ejected the memory and closed my fist. Imagining the memories as a star, Galarion wrapped it in glass and plucked it from the sky. In my hand, the mana crystallized into three separate marbles. I tossed one each to Sereza, Khrem, and Zog.

While they processed the memories for themselves, I turned to look at the crone once more. Galarion has sifted her emotions for me and I could finally understand her weirdness.

“Maybe for your sake. Don’t try peaking at me again,” I said.

“As if I would make the mistake again. You are a monster who defies the natural order,” Myi spat. “Divination always has a price, but even a glimpse at yours nearly cost me my other leg.”

I shrugged. “More importantly. That vision of yours. Do you have a way to interpret it?”

“Prophecies are symbolic. Metaphorical. Visions never mean what they directly show. With that said, there are always patterns.” Ellena interrupted.  She raised her hand and showed a silver emblem between her fingers. Three waves smashed against a perfect sphere at the center. “Silver Tide. Merchant company. Also known as the Silver Hand. They are prominent merchants in Rumblegrad. Being their base of origin a few generations back.”

“So that’s the silver coin figured out. What about the basin, and the maws?” Sereza said as she narrowed her eyes at the crone.

“Dropping into a basin could mean disturbing still water. To disrupt a contained space. The things pulling the coin under could be a danger. Most likely monsters, sea beasts.”

“And the rift?”

I pointed to the map. “What I learned from Sturmrorex was that the rift was the important one. The sea is angry because of an unchecked rift. Except, it’s not just that.”

“Can you get on with it already? All this dramatic dragonshit for no reason,” Sereza huffed.

I sent her a mental thumbs-up and sighed. “The rift is moving.”

“That’s impossible,” Khrem interrupted.

“Maybe. But it is. The storm that’s been following us? There’s a reason for that.”

Zog cocked his head. “The impossible is not so solid a word around him. If it is moving. Then we can expect trouble and challenge to come.”

“You sounded way too happy about that last part,” I grumbled.

Teldrin raised his hand. “If the rift is moving, does that mean the map is inaccurate? Can you track it?”

Eyes turned toward the map. If we had continued our course, we would have been out of the rift’s trajectory.

However, should have didn’t mean we would be. I closed my eyes and relieved Sturmrorex’s feelings. 

I opened my eyes and found the others waiting, staring with slightly exasperated but excited expressions.

I chuckled. “There’s no need.”

“Cyrus?” Teldrin asked, confused.

“We don’t need to track it. If I’m correct, and I wish I wasn’t. We’ll run into the rift whether we want to or not.”

“How can you be certain?” Ellena asked.

I pointed at the crone. “Because of her. That vision of hers practically sealed the deal. All we have to do is keep sailing forward.”

Ellena frowned but looked toward the window. “Are you certain?”

“Of course not.” She whipped around, but I shrugged again. “I suppose we’ll see. Even if we miss the rift, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve made my goal clear. Do we still have an understanding?”

“We do.”

Ellena helped the old lady off the chair and headed for the door. Orders were shouted and the clatter of hands and feet filled the air. 

I shook my head and turned to Teldrin. “Welp. Are you ready?”

“You mean–”

“Mhmm,” I teased. I patted his shoulder and jerked my thumb at the door. “Time to try out the new skills of yours.”

“Yes!”

Teldrin quickly coached his expression and nodded all serious like a guard. “I’m ready.”

Well, let’s hope I didn’t make a mistake. Cal better be right about this. Ugh.

We left the cabin and found an empty spot away from the chaos of the crew. 

I motioned to the kid. “Alright. Show time.”