The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

It turned out that Randidly couldn’t gather much information from the party, which had become increasingly to feel like a waste of time. He tried not to think about Devick’s horrified expression or let it taint his mood.

However, no one provided him with much useful distraction.

The attendees seemed much more willing to embrace him now he possessed a robe, many complimenting the fine artistry of its embroidery. However, whenever he asked substantive questions about where and when they were, the recipient went pale, made up some excuse, and hurried away. They hid in the crowd and refused to meet his eyes.

Looks like the truce between Aether and Nether isn’t very firm, He mused. He scanned the ballroom. That was the one thing he had noticed; no one seemed willing to meet his gaze.

He probably would have departed, considering the fact he hadn’t spotted Devick since she ran from him and the gathering of information hadn’t occurred in the slightest, but the wolverine man announced the start of the lecture right as he began to waver. Randidly was curious enough about these wondrous patterns to allow himself to file into the room. He was led to a seat close to the front of the auditorium, but along the rightmost aisle, so he was almost facing perpendicular to the stage.

While the rest of the people seated themselves, Randidly idly scanned the faces of the people in his row. When everyone avoided his gaze and pretended not to notice his frank attention, he looked up at the private balcony areas on the far side of the auditorium, light curtains were drawn across to protect the privacy of those within.

After a short and painfully complimentary introduction from the same wolverine man, a figure in an indigo robe swept out onto the stage. “Welcome, all, you curious and noble souls who seek to improve yourselves! For that, everyone, please give yourself a round of applause for having the moral fiber to seek out truth!”

Most of the crowd began to enthusiastically applaud. Randidly rolled his eyes and didn’t even bother to stifle a yawn. After cracking his back and straightening, he caught a flicker of movement in one of the private balconies. Devick pulled her face back into the darkness behind the curtains. Feeling tired, Randidly studied the grinning man who received the applause and clearly relished in it.

Unlike most, this man appeared more human than Randidly had been expecting. Like Devick, he appeared to be a part of a race that formed the basis for the humanity Elhume would later create. His skin was mostly hairless, apart from curly brown hair on his head. His eyes were bright and lively and his cheeks seemed permanently red, as though backstage he had been pinched by a kindly grandma. His movements were quick and direct.

Most of all, Randidly felt curious; he had sorta assumed the lecturer would have been an early version of the master. His eyes flicked to the location in the balcony where he had briefly witnessed Devick. Well, at the very least, this isn’t when Devick imprints on a man who was just an idea… hah…

You haven’t lived an easy life, have you?

Eventually, the applause died and the man began to speak. “Welcome again, friends. If you do not know me, I am Padraic Vhames. An individual who saw in the methods of Nether ways to improve myself. It might be an unpopular or untoward subject for many, but there are lessons to be learned from the esoteric arrangements of Nether Rituals. First, let me give you a few examples.”

With great fanfare, constant over-exaggeration of the potency of the workings, and a series of blatant lies, this Padraic led the cooing audience through three messy examples of Nether patterns. The first was competent enough of an energy rotation, if a bit simplistic, but the follow-ups were pointlessly obtuse and near-useless as actual patterns. Randidly folded his arms across his chest and amused himself by imagining streamlined, improved versions of the patterns that Padraic laid out.

Even from a bad starting point, it became an interesting diversion.

Congratulations! Your Skill Motif of the Hungry Deep (P) has grown to Level 998!

Congratulations! Your Skill Left Hand of the Nether Oracle (M) has grown to Level 948!

“Now, obviously, I haven’t brought you all here to simply wax poetic over the patterns of the Nether peoples,” Padraic continued with a winning smile. He paced back and forth across the stage, always in motion. He jabbed a finger forward after each of his phrases. “They can be beaten. More than any other place, the people of Tatem know that, don’t you?”

To this, the crowd responded with hoots of approval. Many pounded fists to their chest and stomped their feet. Padraic raised a hand and the crowd quickly quieted. “I’m going to make a bold claim, but I have the evidence prepared to back it up. After extensive studying of the Nether methods… I know how these Nether Rituals can be used. How they can be improved. How the sinister Nether Kings… can be beaten at their own game!”

There was some additional intense hooting at this, but there was also suddenly a strained silence in the air that made Padraic’s announcement fall somewhat flat. Randidly’s neck tingled. All across the auditorium, all the important attendees were very pointedly not looking in his direction.

Padraic’s smile didn’t falter. His eyes swept left and right before he zeroed in on Randidly’s location. “Ahhh… of course. Please, sir, I meant no offense. However, I believe no one will be more capable of an assistant than you to prove my claims-”

“My liege is not an assistant!” The previously hidden Nether Herald jumped to his feet. Randidly felt somewhat envious; somehow, the tusked individual had obtained a seat right in the middle of the second row. He was as thick as thieves with a few individuals with yellow robes. The Nether Herald glowered up at Padraic Vhames. “Take your words back or I will force them down your foolish throat.”

Even in the face of the naked threat, Padraic cheerfully smiled. “Apologies, I misspoke. Obviously, a renowned Nether King would never be an assistant. Just that he could provide aid for my demonstration.” The orator pivoted to smile over at Randidly, sitting in the corner. “So, Mr. Nether King, would you care to join me? Evaluate my pattern? Undoubtedly you have a lot of wisdom to dispense.”

Randidly wavered. He had learned some things in the memory world, just by context. The tension between Aether and Nether. The lack of fame given to Elhume, the fist master discussed earlier by partygoers. The power of the Council, definitely in Tatem but perhaps also elsewhere in the Nexus. The various factions denoted by robes. Time might not be passing here, but the interaction with Devick left a strange taste in his mouth. And he knew that there would be more fake Nether Princes to extract information. He didn’t need to indulge this man.

And yet.

Randidly found himself standing. In the lights of the auditorium, the golden threads within his black robe seemed to burn. With his hair and the robe, the only spots of color on Randidly’s body were the harsh emerald of his eyes.

Is it the First Authority, disliking the disrespect? Randidly walked up onto the stage to polite applause. Up close, Padraic was almost a foot shorter than him. The man shifted his weight from foot to foot, remaining in motion. Is it the Grey Creature, sensing a threat or lack of respect? Either way, the aura I release should be tainted with my newfound emotional potency… what gives this man the confidence to so obviously compete with me?

Randidly looked in Padraic’s eyes and found only certainty. It was almost smug, but not quite. If anything, it reminded him of Devick’s naive cheer. Somehow, he guessed that this young man hadn’t experienced many setbacks.

Padraic turned back to the audience, his tight brown curls almost seeming to hum with his excitement. “What an honor this is! Now, for the first time, let me publicly display this pattern I’ve created.”

The man made several smooth and complex gestures. Randidly assumed at first it was just showmanship, but noticed that Nether did follow the touch of his fingers. With each movement, a pattern began to form.

What was curious about the whole arrangement was that at the same time, Padraic began padding the middle area of the Nether Ritual with an image. The combination was shoddy enough that the whole arrangement shot out periodic sparks, which earned several impressed gasps from the audience, but Aether and Nether really did work together as one. And the arrangement itself-

Randidly tilted his head to the side. Is it just a coincidence because this individual is making a similar attempt… or is this the same method that Elhume has been experimenting with in the Sonara?

“Just a few more moments…” Drops of sweat dangled from Padraic’s chin and then splattered on the stage. Without any Nether Core to speak of, he needed to expend a lot of energy to gather up any flows. Still, Randidly couldn’t help but be impressed by the evenness of his Nether.

“Aha! There.” Padraic wiped the sweat from his brow and beamed. The working hung in the air, ready for activation. “I have generated my Pattern. Now, Mr. Ghosthound, do you think you’d be able to create a pattern that can stand against mine directly?”

Randidly raised an eyebrow as he looked at the arrangement. As before, stirring his Nether even the slightest bit sent shivers through the surroundings which none of the people around noticed. The more he looked at the ‘Nether Ritual’ the more he could see how it would function differently than a normal pattern. Randidly looked again at Padriac’s confident expression and decided he would tease him a bit. “Yes.”

“Well then, do your worst,” Padraic released a good-natured laugh. Then he ignited the image in the middle of the Nether Ritual, setting off a cascading wave of energy. The flows whirled and accelerated. A circular portal of dark energy flared impressively across the stage. Each moment, it released another domineering pulse of significance. The environment darkened, with some individuals in the front of the auditorium looking up at the obvious grasp of Nether with stricken expressions.

Randidly shrugged and generated a finger of significance, all he could safely manage. Padraic’s confidence apparently stemmed from Randidly’s identity as a ‘Nether King’ and his rather novel way of combining Aether and Nether. He used Aether as fuel to create an exaggerated effect from the pattern. That was very different from the Nether method of creating patterns that were organic and self-sustaining. Padraic was a sprinter, challenging a long-distance Nether King to a short race.

Randidly wasn’t sure if he could actually generate more power, but he didn’t need to. The finger flicked forward, cutting at the core of the working. He severed the functional bridge between Aether and Nether. Spluttering, the dark orb collapsed in on itself and left the stage inert. Without a power source, the pattern puttered itself out.

For dramatic effect, Randidly’s bit of Nether continued forward and sliced along Padraic’s cheek, leaving a line of blood.

“You…” Padraic’s jaw was slack. His bewilderment was almost comical. “How… with only a small amount of Nether…”

The audience began to mutter. The feeling in the auditorium became awkward.

Then, in an announcement that did not help to dispel the tension, a bearman in silver robes forced open the doors to the auditorium. His eyes were wild. “Ware! A massive Nether force is approaching Tatem. We are under attack!”

Randidly’s first reaction was a small amount of relief. If nothing else, an attack will give me more of a chance to witness actual events of this memory.

Then his mood became somewhat more depressed as everyone in the hall turned to look at him, abject fear constricting their faces. They finally found the will to look at him, but only because he now had become the leering face of death, in their minds.