Scourge of Chaos: Savage Healer

Sunday was left confused. The name gave him even less than he had hoped for. At least the former one he had tried alluded to things and gave ideas. This one was more similar to the Omen of Duality. What the hell was Vision of the Berserk Moon? It certainly sounded ominous and awesome, but it gave very little information. He hoped it was not another one like Phantasmal Fall.

“Well?” Mera asked. There was some anticipation on her face breaking apart her gentle disposition.

“I don’t have the essence to use it…” Sunday admitted. He had been excited to see the name, forgetting that he was out of juice. “I might need a quiet corner to practice for a bit…”

“No need,” the woman said, then pulled out a strange crystal out of nowhere. “Here, it’s neutral essence and it will speed the process of recharging yourself. You can’t use those more than once every so often or you will disbalance your soul and body. It is something of an emergency essence to use in a crisis.”

Satisfying our curiosity is a crisis alright.

Sunday caught it with a scoff and looked at it. There was nothing extraordinary about the piece of crystal, although he could sense the compressed essence inside of it. If it worked as she said, then it was a vital resource to get a hold of. Be it for emergencies or whatever else popped up.

“Another alchemical creation?” he asked.

“Somewhat. Alchemy can make them in bulk, but their purity is not as good. It’s crystalized essence. It is typically used as a reagent in most concoctions, but it can also aid lesser ranks to recover their essence. The higher one goes the more difficult it is for essence that has not been altered by the mage’s own soul space to fuel their spells. Of course, higher ranks have very large reserves and don’t have to worry about such things often. Many magi can create essence crystals through the use of yet another type of art. It’s a slow process, but it brings them a lot of coin and goodwill.”

That’s nifty. I should get some… I bet I can beg Riya once she awakens since the Arcanum will probably want my firstborn in exchange. Or better yet, I should just rob the place blind and take the arts and spells it has. No, that’s too much, at least not for now. I’ll be a dutiful worker bee and keep trying to improve my standing. I’ve only done one task and I want everything on a silver platter. And if Mera knows what I am, then the Arcanum surely has even more detailed records.

Sunday concentrated on pulling at the essence from the crystal and was surprised at the speed with which it flowed into his soul space. No less than five minutes later about one-fourth of it was full and he felt much better. The crystal had melted into nothing in the palm of his hand. It was much more efficient than meditating on the Black Breath for hours, but the essence felt somewhat foreign as well.

“Thanks,” he said. I wonder if I can crystalize healing or something. I saw a few crystals in the habitats as well, which means they have many uses… He decided to try and make some on his own, eventually. Perhaps ones made from his essence would serve even better to him. Although only the Omen of Duality made use of the death essence and the rest were alright with a more neutral one, it would still work due to the way spells functioned in his soul space. A large part of him believed that the reason his spells were thriving even though he was using the Black Breath, was the Yew Tree’s Blessing which twisted the essence in his soul space as it saw fit. A detail he hadn’t paid much attention to before.

“Here it goes,” he said.

The Vision of the Berserk Moon took little to no effort to activate, but the result was quite dramatic as a circle of ominous red appeared over Sunday’s palm, like a hole in reality. The more essence he poured the larger it grew. He stopped when he had given half of what he had just restored and watched it with wonder. It felt barely complete at its current size, which was about the diameter of a dining plate.

However, it was also just existing, without a single hint of producing any effects.

“Does it feel dangerous?” he asked after a few seconds of silence.

Mera frowned, “Foreboding. As if it is heralding the coming of something… Not much else I can say. Quite a peculiar spell. Most are easy to understand at least on a surface level after they are cast.”

Sunday concentrated on the spell's manifestation, but he felt nothing. There was something else he was supposed to do. His spells had reacted to it so…

On a whim, he used the last bits of his essence to summon a moth of death. Only Mera was a living being around here and she was strong enough to squash him like a bug if something went wrong. Not that he wanted that, but spells were certainly stranger and more unpredictable than he gave them credit for. And while Riya and Kallus were still walled off, he didn’t want to stress the girl further.

There was finally a reaction. The moth didn’t pop into existence as it usually did. Instead, three large black moths with a hint of red appeared, crawling out of the red circle that flowed like the surface of a lake before slowly disappearing in their wake.

Sunday could feel their strength and their change. The Omen was a spell that let itself be fully controlled, without expressing itself like some of the others had done. It typically felt like an extension of his mind, more so than even the Smash Ball. However, at this moment his three moths were like the locusts sent by God himself to ravage the land. There was hunger in them that Sunday hadn’t experienced before. Some of it seemed to rub off on him and he caught himself looking around for a target before shaking his head. What the fuck is this?

He tried to cancel one of the moths but it refused to go. Their power was growing more and more uncontrollably with each moment, and the red was spreading further over the moths. It seemed to be the color of the day.

“Sunday?” Mera asked from the side. She was calm as if what was happening was of no consequence to her. Her attitude calmed Sunday down too. He wasn’t sure the moths would be healing anyone though. Even he felt a hint of danger through the connection he shared with the spell.

Controlling them was still possible, and he knew that if he had a target in mind they would descend on it like a heavenly punishment. They flew much faster than before, which meant that the strange moon spell had taken away one of their major weaknesses. But what was the price for that? Or perhaps, it was simply the effect of the spell – a spell that buffed other spells.

I can do some real damage now. Sunday grinned. There was excitement growing for him and he wished for someone to use the empowered spell on.

He bit at his lip and tried to refocus. The strength of the spell was growing out of control and Mera seemed to have sensed it as spikes of Mesmer Steel appeared and crashed into the moths with blinding speed, making them burst into clouds of black and red. It didn’t happen immediately like other times, and Sunday almost wished for the moths to struggle some more.

He felt the bloodlust worming its way into his mind disappear and took a deep breath. His essence was gone again, but the effect of the spell had made the moths from a trump card he had to be careful about using to something overwhelmingly dangerous… It saved him about one-third of the essence he would need to use to summon three moths and it made them much stronger. At least it felt like it did. Without melting someone’s face off it was hard to say. He still wondered if the healing effect was preserved. Something told him things were not as simple…

“That’s a peculiar effect,” Mera said. “I knew this spell was strange. We unearthed it during a trip through a fallen land far from here. It rejected all the magi who tried to bond with it and figure out its intricacies, while others simply refused because of their intuition warning them to do so.”

“Intuition seems to be big among magi, huh?” Sunday noted halfheartedly. His focus was on his soul space, where the moths remained nonchalant, and the Phantasmal Fall stood unbothered in the small alcove it had made for itself. Now a blood moon hung above the Yew Tree and bathed the space in a red hue, as if it had always been there. There had been no issue with taking the spell into his soul space. Not even a little bit.

What would happen if it used it with the Smash Ball or another tool spell? Phantasmal Fall? The possibilities were almost endless depending on the spells he could get his hands on. Advancing and gaining an art that allowed him to store unused spells was paramount. It would give him versatility and allow him to change his ‘build’ before each fight.

I really need to kiss some Arcanum ass. I was jokingly thinking about robbing the place, but now it might actually be the smartest thing to do if going to normal way proves too slow… I wonder if Mera will help? Advancing hid dangers, but now he had people he could ask for a favor. And he was sure there were plenty of assholes to drop the hound on. Who was he to deny weaponizing his own demons against those who held enmity against him?

There was time. He needed to get to know the woman first and learn if what she had said was true. Words were easy to say, and while her actions so far supported each of her claims, Sunday believed everyone had their own reasons for doing everything. Mera had certainly been quite forward with hers, but she also wanted to help Riya.

Sunday wasn’t sure how he felt about the girl. Perhaps getting into his bed had been another test. There were many types of undead out there… Shit, not everything is a fucking scheme. I should get my head out of my ass. Overthinking every detail will get me nowhere. All that matters is getting powerful fast. If people want to use me then I’ll let them, as long as there are benefits for me. I should ask Elora about going over Zihei’s head. My healing is bound to earn me some friends in higher places…

“This is a great spell. Although I’m not sure what exactly happened, it made my other spell much more potent and added an additional effect to it.”

“I thought it was something like that. Honestly, I expected a bit more from it. Will this be your choice for now, then?” Mera asked.

“Yes. I’ve no place for more spells, and that fleshy thing is too essence heavy for the current me. I’d manage two casts at best before I’m done, so it’s pretty useless. As for the spear… I don’t even know where to begin fighting with one.”

Mera seemed briefly disappointed at his words but quickly hid it. Did she expect I’d be more overjoyed? As it stands we’ve traded a spell for a spell, with the addition of some knowledge. Sure, her spell is much more valuable to me, but…

The two stepped away and the wall of red dropped down like a curtain. Riya and Kallus were waiting near one of the habitats. Sunday wasn’t sure what the spell there was, and while he was filled with questions, those spells were not for him.

“Big sis, why’d you shut me out? I wanted to see what he would choose. You know how many magi asses I’ve kicked. I could give very valuable advice!” Kallus pouted. The wight seemed to be back to normal, although there was a strange light in his eyes as he looked toward Sunday. It made him look even more deranged.

“Some things are not for us to see,” Riya quietly said.

You scheming little…

“Yes,” Mera agreed. “We’ve already made our guest quite uncomfortable, especially with how you two have acted. Don’t forget, if I want to I can see quite a bit.”

That made both Riya and Kallus look ashamed, although the wight shame was just for show, and seconds later he was back to staring at Sunday with the smile of a lunatic off his pills.

Sunday took out the paper for the awakening art taken from Jishu and all eyes followed his hands as he gently unfolded the paper. “Can you make copies of this? I want the original back.”

Mera nodded and gently took the paper from his hand before covering it in what appeared to be tiny grains of Mesmer Steel. What can’t she do with that weird spell? Soon, copies of the nine pages became one whole piece that perfectly depicted the whole diagram of the awakening art. It was like a strange sculpture and it flew to land on the ground before them.

She handed him the paper as if what she had done was something casual. Was she capable of running out of essence? How would she even get it?

“I’d love to speak more at a later time, but I’ve overexerted myself today and I need to rest for now. Feel free to treat the Wayward Rat as your home, and you can come down the tunnels anytime to seek my guidance or help. While I’m quite limited, there’s also a lot I can still do,” Mera gently said. “And don’t let those two make trouble for you.”

“I certainly won’t. Thanks for everything, but we seem to have missed a crucial thing.” Sunday responded.

“We have?”

“There was supposed to be… a lot of gold waiting for me down here.” And I haven’t seen even a bucketful yet.