The Cloudfarers [A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure]

"Wait wait wait..." Rylan muttered, raising his hands to forestall any reactions while his mind raced. "Authority... that's it! We don't need them!"

Artoran glanced at Leahna, who shrugged, bewildered. "What do you mean, son?"

"They don't—it's the bloodline!" Rylan exclaimed, stumbling over his words a little in his haste to explain. "I told you about what happened with the console, right? About how Ethereon recognised me as an administrator in Aeloria?"

Artoran nodded.

"Before they put that Contract on you, they brought you out to a console as well, right? They must've been testing if you have the bloodline! You obviously do, otherwise I wouldn't have it... That's why they came after me, too. It's not about family honour or rivalry or whatever, they're trying to curb the spread of the bloodline. That's why they would've castrated me: so it doesn't spread!"

"Hold on, what about me?" Leahna asked, raising her hand. "They didn't do anything to me..."

"No, but you're a Hawktalon," Rylan replied after a moment. "You're part of the official family tree; your offspring is already being tracked." He turned back to his father. "Let me guess: one of the clauses of your Contract was that you could no longer have relations outside of marriage, to prevent any new bastards from popping up, correct?"

"Ehm, yes, there was one like that, too," Artoran replied, surprised. "But why is this relevant?"

"Because they're too focused on it," Rylan explained. "It's suspicious. They're definitely hiding something, and I don't think it's just that they have more leeway at Hermean consoles. Think about it: how can it be possible that no one outside of the Talons has ever received the Contract Skill? What if it's not that they're the only ones who know how to get the Skill? What if they're the only ones who can get it, because only they have the authority?"

It was silent for a moment.

[Woah,] Arphin muttered quietly, finally drawn away from his playing by the heated conversation. [I definitely followed all of that, but Big Sis looks a little confused, so maybe you should explain it one more time, and a little more slowly.]

"Hey!" Leahna protested. "Don't put it on me if you're too distracted to pay attention, lil' bro!"

Arphin had gotten into the habit of reaching out with multiple tendrils so he could project his voice to all three of them—four if you counted Izzy, who seemed confused by the intense atmosphere, and was sending out soothing images of a field of izillias.

"I'll go over it again later if you want me to, Arphin," Rylan replied amusedly. "Just listen for now, yeah?"

"So, if what you're saying is correct, it would mean you could get the Contract Skill too," Artoran said slowly. "Or possibly Leah—or me, if my access to Ethereon were restored. However, we still don't know the Skill's Attribute Requirements, or how to go about unlocking it..."

A silence fell over the kitchen again. Rylan drummed his fingers on the table. Something still didn't feel right about this... Contract was supposed to be an Emerald-Grade Skill, but what it did seemed so over the top compared to other Skills of the same grade. How did manipulating mana lead to someone losing access to their Status and Skills, even years later and miles and miles away?

Perhaps the administrator status had even more to do with its functioning than he realised...

"Hold on, let me try something," Rylan muttered, before clearing his throat. "Blessed Ethereon, by my authority as administrator, please release Artoran Hawktalon from his Contract!"

Leahna sucked in a breath, watching him wide-eyed.

《Query not understood.》

Rylan shook his head. He'd kind of expected that answer, but he wasn't about to give up. "Ethereon, what part of my query did you not understand?"

《The term 'Contract' lacks a formal definition.》

His brows shot up. "It doesn't know what a Contract is?" he mumbled half to himself. "Ethereon, Artoran Hawktalon is currently barred from using the ability to request accelerated recovery, correct?"

《Affirmative. Local user Artoran Hawktalon is currently under a Restricted status.》

"Restricted... All right. Then, as an administrator, can I ask you to remove that Restriction for me, please?"

《To apply administrator privileges, please access a local console.》

"So I can do it?" Rylan asked, his excitement building. "I have the authority to lift Restrictions if I find a console?"

《To query about administrator privileges, please access a local console.》

Rylan clicked his tongue, annoyed.

"What is it?" Leahna asked quickly, leaning in over the table. "What did it say?"

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"It won't give me a definitive answer. But my gut is telling me it's possible."

"Great Spirits..." Artoran breathed, his eyes wide. "You really think that's how it works?"

"It must!" Rylan replied, gesticulating wildly. "Don't you see? The administrator privileges are why the Talons are able to place Restrictions, and remove them. Though I don't entirely understand how the Contracts are involved, especially as Ethereon doesn't seem to recognise the term..."

"Son... if you're right, then we're playing with fire," Artoran warned. "The Talons already put a price on your head. If you remove my... Restriction, and they figure it out, they'll hunt you down personally."

Rylan balled his hands into fists. "You're right. They probably will. But so what? Are you really content to live like this? They didn't just take away your Skills, they even took the use of your legs!"

Artoran just smiled ruefully. "Content? I get to sit and watch my children thrive. How could I be anything less than happy? I don't want Leah and you to have to live on the run, I—"

Leahna shot to her feet. "Stop. Just stop," she interrupted, her voice shaking with emotion. "I don't care if we have to run. And if we're being honest, Rylan is already living on the run. They'll figure out where he is sooner or later, we all know it. Maybe they already have, and they're just too preoccupied with the Thorns to come get him."

"To try, you mean," Rylan muttered. But he didn't disagree. It was a thought that had kept him up at night from time to time as well. In his efforts to find his father, he hadn't exactly stayed low-key...

"If we really think a console can help restore your abilities," Leahna continued, "then I say we try and damn the consequences. So, where do we find a console?"

Their father did not quite look convinced yet, but Rylan was fully on board. "That's a good question," he muttered. "I've actually been meaning to find one so I could have Ethereon analyse my Affinity, but unfortunately, the only one I know of is at the bottom of the cloudsea in the territory of a very angry Ruby Malequint shark... I even asked Ethereon for the location of one but it just told me to consult the local authorities."

Leahna glanced over at Artoran.

After a moment, he reluctantly replied. "The Talons blindfolded me when they took me to theirs. From Rylan's descriptions, I don't think I've ever seen one either. But I... suppose I can ask around. While branch families of the Talons aren't too popular in these parts, I've still made some friends among the local peerage."

Rylan nodded. "Sounds good. I've got some contacts I could ask as well."

"I'll write Cassie," Leahna added, her eyes gleaming. "She might know about one near Summit, in case we can't find anything more local."

Artoran let out a sigh, complicated emotions warring on his face. "Do the two of you really wish to do this?" he asked quietly. "We might very well end up having to give up our lives here, our home, everything."

"If it comes to that, we'll make a new home elsewhere," Leahna replied firmly. "Together. Right, Rylan?"

"We will," he agreed, feeling his throat constrict a little.

"All right, then," Artoran said, shaking his head and then raising his glass. "Since I can't seem to talk you kids out of this... Fog the Talons!"

"Dad!" Leahna chided.

"Apologies, darling," Artoran said, sheepishly lowering his glass a little.

She sighed, shaking her head, "No, no... you're not wrong, I suppose. If I'm going to talk the talk..." She lifted her own glass. "Fog the Talons!"

[Fog the Talons!] Arphin added jubilantly.

Laughing, Rylan raised his glass to join the toast, as Izzy swirled around their hands, infected by their enthusiasm. "Fog 'em all to the Spiritvale!"

The next day, despite his impatience, Rylan did the smart thing and—rather than go visit them himself—got one of the busboys to run a cryptic letter for him to the Chummy Bucket where Yuel and Nazyr were staying, asking them to come visit him.

They didn't immediately show up, unfortunately, so he was forced to wait.

In the meantime, Leahna sent her weekly letter to her pen pal Cassie early, and helped her father pen something to one of his noble friends in the city.

Apparently, his handwriting was worse than Rylan's, and he could no longer even blame it on the tremors.

The man they'd written was Quillion Glade, son of Countess Georgina Glade, arguably the most influential person in the city, and apparently Dionne Thistlethorn's older sister, which actually made her Rylan's great-aunt.

If the city had a console, Quillion would know.

Rylan wisely stayed away when the man came to visit, but swung by afterwards to hear what he'd had to say about the matter.

When he entered the Hawktalon home's kitchen, however, he found his father looking kind of frustrated.

"Bad news?" Rylan asked.

Artoran sighed.

"Yes and no," Leahna replied in his stead. "Quillion was rather vague about the matter, which suggests the city does have access to a console somewhere. He just... wasn't willing to tell us where."

"It's because we're related to the fogging Talons," Artoran said gruffly, wrestling with the strap of his bowtie. "The Glades are allied to the Thorns. Even if he trusts me personally, he can't reveal any potentially critical information—especially considering the current unrest. I mean, I get it, but it's just..."

"Frustrating," Leahna finished, gently pushing her father's hands away and starting to loosen his bowtie. "I received a reply from Cassie as well today. Unfortunately, she writes she'd never heard of a console before. She said she'd ask around, but..."

"That's all right; going to Summit would've been inconvenient anyway," Rylan reassured her, taking a seat at the table. "Especially if there's one near Cliffport! We just need to figure out where it is. Now, if the Glades won't tell us, who else might know?"

Artoran smiled gratefully at Leahna, and scratched at the newly freed skin of his neck. "Probably the local Quinthar. They're the ones who find and frequent ancient Hermean sites for the city, looking for Dungeons and whatnot. And guard them, too, in some cases."

Leahna bit her lip. "If I officially join the city's Quinthar, do you think they'd show me?"

Rylan frowned. "If you do that, the Talons will definitely come knocking."

"So?" Leahna asked stubbornly. "We're risking that anyway if we do this, right? I could pay for access to an Equipment Dungeon and then..."

She trailed off, as Artoran was shaking his head. "A few seasons ago, that might have worked, dear. Right now, I'm not sure they would let you anywhere near their Dungeons, considering our lineage."

Rylan frowned. "Has it gotten that bad?"

"It has," Artoran replied with a sigh. "Some people have already started hoarding non-perishables, just in case."

Rylan got up and started to pace, trying to think. "You know," he said after a moment. "They've been trying pretty hard to recruit Chef Ironbeard, and they don't know I'm related to you guys... Maybe we can leverage that somehow?"

Artoran frowned. "That seems risky, son. If they see your face..."

Rylan stopped and smiled, the inklings of a plan coming together. "Well, how are they going to see my face, underneath my luscious grey beard?"