4.39 - Waking Spirits
[I hope everyone got at least a few hours nap, because we're about to cross over the edge of Tempest and we'll need to adjust the sails to account for flying into the skymote's shadow.]
"I was so excited to be leaving Gleam for the first time ever that I could hardly sleep," Misty says. "I can't wait to see Aunt Lark and Bucky again and tell them everything that's happened since they've been gone."
We arrive at Corwen during indigo, and I direct us to park behind the workshop and close to my tree. Juniper is sitting in the grass meditating in front of the tree. While I might think this is a good deal more concentration than the average 8-year-old is capable of, I also notice that there's a telepathic conversation going on between her and the ghost, Liu Xing, as facilitated by her ring.
A noncorporeal link to a Basic-rank child is such a tiny trickle of experience that it would not be likely to push him to Celestial rank unless she eventually goes on to do something incredible. I have no idea what the requirements might be but he would probably need a more substantial connection. A consideration for later. Right now, I want to get a nap in myself before it's festival time.
| Name: Juniper Corwen Tempest Tiganna |
| Race: Human | Gender: Female | Rank: Basic | Tier: Novice | Class: Tranquil Child |
| Disposition: Friendly | Mood: Joyful |
[Misty, this is my sister, Juniper,] I tell her.
"Welcome home," Juniper says. "How was your adventure?"
"I completed the quest, made some friends, and got not nearly enough sleep thanks to idiots trying to kill me and me wanting to get home for the Summer Festival."
"Liu Xing said we should have [Pain Tolerance] training every Wednesday," Juniper says. "He didn't say why Wednesdays in particular."
"Your sister who looks nothing like you says weird things," Misty comments.
I don't even bother getting back to my room. I just flop down in the grass next to my tree and doze off right there, barely managing to cast a [Ghostly Enchanter] first.
[That is still us, isn't it?] Liu Xing observes. [That we don't want to waste one moment even to sleep.]
[I'm not going to argue with myself,] I reply with amusement. [I have to write textbooks for dwarves and I want to work on this tree while I'm here. Have I missed anything?]
[I would have informed you had anything of significance occurred. Your sister is dedicated to her training, unlike her cousins. I believe she will go far.]
[Did Meadow come back for the festival?] I ask.
[I have not seen her. Your predatory-bird-themed uncles are both here. They made it back yesterday, in time to get a good night's sleep before the festival.]
"Does he… normally do this?" Misty says, staring at the ghost's azure eyes and transparent hands. "Pass out and become a ghost?"
"He likes to keep working on things while he sleeps," Rowan says.
"I've got to start doing that too," Basalt says. "I'm not as good at that stuff as he is, but who would say no to having more hours in the day and more hands working on projects, especially ones that don't need to eat? I'll just have to level up [Ghostly Handyman] until I can keep it up all the time. He might be able to sustain an army of ghosts by that point."
"Does that bother you?" Jade asks.
"Nah," Basalt says. "I'm a [Dwarven Dad]. The only way Necromancy even fits into that at all is because I'd be summoning the ghost of a dad I once was to do housework while I sleep. My past self thinks it's hilarious. His name is Steve, by the way. If you see him, you can call him that to annoy him. Just don't tell him he's not your real Dad." He winks.
"I would like a bath before I sleep," Rowan says.
"Me too," Hemlock says. "I feel like I'm covered in Gleam."
Thankfully, no one expects me to help with the festival setup, and I'm able to get in a few hours nap before it gets underway.
The layout of the festival has changed, of course. Everything had to be moved around a bit to adjust for the position of Aunt Hazel's new [Guardian Tree].
People are showing off the arts and crafts they've been working on over the year. There's a variety of food and drink available, and I grab an apple fritter and call it breakfast.
There's a lot more goblins here this year, too, and spirits are high. A strong-smelling ramshackle goblin-run vending stall sells trilling grub cheese, next to an equally rickety stand where another goblin is showing off some crudely carved stone statuettes.
Over the course of several minutes around the middle of the day, the Great Orb shifts from yellow to orange.
I check what the crafters are selling to see if there's anything I particularly want and need, and to get ideas for future projects. Not that I especially need any new ideas. I already have enough on my plate to keep an army of ghosts occupied until adulthood.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
"Drake!" Milo's voice exclaims as the goblin emerges from the crowd to approach me.
We catch up. I tell him about all the friends I've been making and potential business opportunities, by which point he's practically salivating. I also tell him about all the new skills I've unlocked that might be useful to him.
"Can I borrow your boat while you're down in the caves?" Milo asks.
"Sure," I say. "You can borrow whichever of my crew don't feel like watching me sit around and craft things, too."
Most of them volunteer without even being told what Milo's up to. Amethyst is going back to Hebron to get started on winemaking and has had her fill of adventure for the moment. Likewise, Basalt has a lot of work to do on expanding the population by carving more dwarf statues.
"We need to get a forge built in Grubwick, too," Milo says after Basalt mentions the one we built in Hebron.
Basalt nods in agreement. "Let's pencil it in for September. We can send Copper."
"The metal?" Milo asks.
"And the guy. Dude's a medieval Swedish blacksmith. He knows his stuff."
"I think it's closer to Renaissance," I say.
Lark and Bucky are out enjoying the Summer Festival, their white hair sticking out among the mostly dark-haired locals.
"Drake!" Lark says. "Good to see you. Misty told me what happened in Gleam and we're taking the opportunity to go outside the village now that we can."
"Glad to see you out and enjoying it, too," I say. "What do you plan to do now? Going home?"
"I don't think we're ready to go home just yet but it's nice to get out and enjoy a festival like this," Lark says. "What did you think of Gleam?"
"Eh," I say. "Everyone there is overly reliant on quests to do anything."
Lark laughs. "I know! Quests are useful but they're not everything!"
"How's Bucky doing?" I ask, turning to the quiet boy and examining his aura as he munches on some corn on the cob.
"Still quiet," Lark says. "Oh, what I'd give to hear his voice again. He had such a sweet singing voice."
Much like the bell, a silence curse clings to his aura, also originating from the same [Hush Warlock]. I don't know when or how the halfling managed to quietly curse the poor kid, but I'm pretty sure I can remove it in exactly the same way I did the bell. There isn't nearly as much of it as there was in the bell, either.
"Bucky, if you'd like, I can remove that silence curse on you now," I say.
The seven-year-old boy nods eagerly and runs over toward me. I buy another ear of corn and pull out a caduceus to form a connection between the curse and the vegetable. It was easier with the pumpkin since I'd grown that myself, but I see no reason why I shouldn't take the opportunity to make some creepy Hush corn. As the ear absorbs the curse, several of the kernels take on black, red, and orange colors like decorative maize.
"Ah…" Bucky says. "Ah… Ah! Ah! I… I can talk! My voice is back!"
| You have aided a member of Harrow Hearth. Reputation with Harrow has increased. |
Bucky thanks me profusely and runs off whooping with joy.
I'm back in Hebron soon enough, leaving the Celestial Duck in the capable hands of Milo and my crew and crossing the Underswamps with just me, Basalt, and Amethyst. Anise promises to be back in time to root for me against the orc girl. She doesn't say aloud that she might be bored to tears if she has to watch me build another copper gnome, but I get the feeling from her aura that she'd rather be flying.
I have a lot of work to do and I'm looking forward to spending some more time in the workshop. I need to make sure that my little kingdom can run itself when I'm off at magic school, and I've got an Invocation contest to prepare for.
I look over the results of my search. My [Minion Roster] has only finished searching 7% of my soul 'database', but there's probably someone here that would fit the bill. I just need someone who knows what they're doing, not necessarily the best I've ever managed.
At the top of the list sits a gnome who once made Legendary rank before being roasted alive by a dragon in his own machine, which was probably subsequently pried open and eaten. He refuses to reincarnate unless I have a way to make him fireproof. I currently do not, but make note of that as I can probably find a way.
The second one on the list made Epic rank, and refuses to come back as a biological being, but will accept being a ghost, golem, or clockwork automaton of some sort. The shinier the better. I make note of that and move on.
The third one is game for the prospect of being reincarnated and sent to Gleam, however. So I see about building another copper gnome.
When the crude gnomish effigy is complete, I set it on the spawning platform with my latest notebook my [Ghostwriter] spent hours working on, and include the clock I bought from Gleam and a magitech lamp. I select the intended soul and pull the lever. The objects on the platform all melt into shimmering rainbow plasm and flow together, then solidify into flesh and bone.
| Name: Trundle Hebron Tempest Tiganna |
| Race: Gnome | Gender: Male | Rank: Basic | Tier: Journeyman | Class: Gnomish Artificer |
| Disposition: Friendly | Mood: Happy to be alive |
"Ah, it's good to be breathing again," Trundle says.
I give Trundle the grand tour of the small hold and introduce him to everyone, and brief him on the assignment he's volunteered for. He only grows more excited as I describe the City to him.
"Once you reach Elite rank, you should be able to summon the ghost of our shared astral root as an Enchanter, he's the one who is actually the owner of the core. I don't know how long that might take."
"I'll be fine. I know how to rank up." He chuckles. "I did make Epic rank before, you know. I don't mind starting over on account of having an entire new lifespan ahead of me knowing everything I knew. From what you've told me, there will be ample opportunity to make connections and go on adventures in Gleam, and there are plentiful resources to tinker with. With Gleam's penchant for automated questing to power-level its residents, I'm confident that I can make Legendary before the Apocalypse."
"I will be glad to know there is someone else sane there trying to make the place a little less stupid. When my ship returns, you can use it to get to Gleam and have my crew bring it back. I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunity to acquire or build your own ship but you can contact me via our astral root if you need anything or have something you want me to know. Pinion, too."
"So, how many of us do you intend to resurrect with this device?" he asks.
"As many of them want to be resurrected with it," I reply. "Some of us prefer to stay ghosts or would rather be automatons or something."
"Ambitious. I like it. Most Necromancers would use an undead spawner rather than a one that makes free-willed biological beings. You do not fear the sort of chaos we will cause."
"I'm absolutely hoping for chaos," I laugh.
"And I do appreciate having encyclopedic knowledge of Earth media up to the 21st century. Knowing that werewolves are vulnerable to silver might be important someday."
"I used Invocation (Sunbeam) on a vampire," I say. "Poor bastard had no idea what it was. He completely freaked out."
NOVEL NEXT