The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

“Friends, companions,” Don Beigon smiled warmly around at the individuals. The fat and greedy assembled fish stank with self-satisfaction, all bottom feeders with mediocre images and entitlement dripping off their swollen bodies. “I’m so glad you’ve agreed to meet with me today. Considering the circumstances… I’ll skip right to the crux of this important issue. The Nether Lattice was a Nexus institution too important to simply allow it to fade with the death of Lathis. The damage to the structure is significant, but that can be overcome with concerted effort. Especially with all the specialized capability assembled here.”

His opening comments earned a few nervous chuckles. A few of the larger invitees fidgeted at the back, sweat beginning to bead on their skin. At first, Don Beigon had worried that the actions of the Actus Suprem would undercut his plan before he could gather all the relevant pieces, but in the end, it only added a bit of ripe desperation to these individuals.

They were canny to have survived in the cutthroat environment of the Nexus, but even the most powerful individuals developed blindspots while in the grips of fear.

“What do you propose, Don?” One of the attendees, an amorphous being composed almost entirely of crackling storm clouds, asked the carefully pitched rumbles of thunder.

Don Beigon leaned back. He was not eager. He was certain and confident. Yet at the same time, he let his studiously controlled features show. “I plan on calling in a portion of the debts owed to me and have those fortunate individuals join the Nether Lattice in lieu of typical payment. Well, honestly, isn’t it almost like I am doing them a favor? I am well aware of the capability given to esteemed figures within the Nether Lattice. They should be grateful for the chance at power.”

Several individuals murmured their interest as the group considered this news. A humanoid hawk retained her suspicions. “Yet why would you do this for us, Don? And why now?”

“I do this now because we have a period of instability approaching; surely you can feel it in the air. Surely you have noticed… rogue elements attempting to establish tiny little kingdoms of their own within the wider Nexus. While I’m sure Elhume will eventually bring these elements into alignment given enough time, it also cannot be denied that Elhume… has his vision focused on higher concerns.” Don Beigon spread his hands wide. “In the meantime, a firm hand is required to protect the valuable institutions we have built.”

“How different is your little estate here from those rebel kingdoms?” The hawk snorted. “Certainly, you’ve spared no expense reinforcing your walls.”

The Don ignored the tone; the fact that she was here and had already eaten his food meant that tiny variances in attitude wouldn’t affect the outcome at all. “As to your first question, in exchange for this assistance, I hope for two boons. First, I hope the revived Nether Lattice and I will maintain a close relationship. Truly, I believe instability is coming— friends in this time will be more valuable than any other currency. Secondly… I would like the insight of the assembled personages to help me condense a Nether Core of my very own.”

He allowed his very real desperation to accomplish this now leak the tiniest bit into his voice. Too much would be revealed as melodrama, too little wouldn’t instill them with the overconfidence he wished to trigger.

From just a glance around, he knew he had succeeded.

Already, the Don could see the smirking certainty of these individuals; believing they had sniffed out his true aim, they would hem and haw and talk about the impossibility of housing a Nether-style Core within an Aether body. Obviously, they would say pretty things about providing him with a powerful core ‘outside of the Nether Lattice’ but they would also sink hooks into him they could manipulate from a higher tier within the Nether Lattice.

A perfect position,

The Don looked around with a calm smile. For when a Reversal of Fortune grants me everything I’ve deserved. And the weapon to carve vengeance into your body, Elhume.

*****

Her hands cramped. She ignored it. She adjusted her grip and allowed a breath to hiss out her teeth. More than physical concerns, it was her attention that now wavered.

While Actus Suprem Devick felt a constant throw thrum of satisfaction from feeling so many individuals giving her a de facto ‘no’ but resisting her chains and then she dragged out their Grand Fates anyway, it was possible that too much of a good thing existed. Even joy became predictable. The toil strengthened her image, allowed her to blossom unexpectedly in a whole new direction, but the reality of her situation was she had become a day laborer, hauling on chains to bring the unruly peasantry into line.

Truly, a misuse of her significant talents. Devick shook her head and then rattled the chain of a particularly desperate individual. Feeling the shock of their pain usually cheered her up, yet now it had become a mundane occurrence. A hundred other opportunities to prod such a weakness were available to her. She could only sigh while yanking to take advantage of their pitiable capability.

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Yet right when the tedium seemed to have reached its height, a challenger appeared— at the head of a small army, Randidly Ghosthound appeared. Her knight with darkness in his eyes and an admirable amount of rage bubbling in his chest. He rushed through the opening at the far end of the chamber, prepared for war.

Instantly, his gaze locked on her position. He took wide strides and approached her without even a flicker of hesitation.

She suppressed a smile; yes, truly this one was her son.

However, her good mood vanished when he arrived and looked at her for a moment, he didn’t even greet her!, and then scanned the surroundings. The Actus Suprem paused in her labor and pursed her lips. Perhaps fat on the easy pleasure of cruelty, her anger didn’t rouse itself quickly. “Not even acknowledging to your Actus Suprem? I must say, Randidly, I do not like the dearth of manners you are now demonstrating.”

“Actus Suprem,” His voice had deepened since they had last spoken, edged with more weight and authority so the sonic shapes hung briefly in the air. Yet the action still clearly had been motivated more by habit than respect, which made her emotions curdle.

Yet, for all that, his attention settled entirely on her. His eyes were painted with contrasts, an infinite darkness in his pupils, the brilliant revelry of spring growth in his irises. He looked at her uniform, her face, her hands wrapped around the multitude of small connections. “You need to drop those connections, Actus Suprem. You are hurting people without any justification.”

Devick blinked, the picture of innocence. For all that this was her child, he displayed his vulnerabilities so proudly to the world. “But I am simply following orders.”

Randidly gave her a look so frank it earned a giggle out of Devick. “If it didn’t amuse you, there is no order in the world you would bother to heed. Please, Actus Suprem. Devick. Drop those connections. Let those Grand Fates go. If you do it, right now… we can at least stay what we currently are.”

Their eyes met. He had spoken so directly, touching upon the pivot they had now reached.

This time, it was Devick’s smile that curdled, bubbling and twisting unevenly across her face. “Ah. so we’ve finally arrived at this juncture. Is it not pleasurable, the weight of a naked threat in your hand, my sweet Randidly? You’ve grown up so quickly. For my edification… what will you do if I refuse? If I continue-” For emphasis, Devick rattled the chains she held in her hands and earned the narrowing of his eyes. “-to be amused by their pathetic resistance?”

“We fight,” Randidly Ghosthound produced his spear. He pointed the gleaming tip toward her chest. “And I prove you aren’t invincible.”

“Ah, Randidly,” Devick’s heart fluttered. Happiness and sadness moved together as a complete whole. Her awareness sharpened, the boredom passed. Because, while this was perhaps predictable, it was also inevitable. That the son would crave the flesh of the mother. That only with overwhelming power could she maintain her hierarchical position above him. “Such an action should not be undertaken casually.”

“I think we both know I would not have made it here if my disposition was casual,” Randidly growled.

Devick could only laugh. For the first time in years, she felt fragile. What they had, the slow journey of the Ghosthound rising and assuming his proper place as her son, hurtled toward a breaking point. And Devick loved breaking things. But she also loved this, the tension between them, the not knowing how and where their bond would be crushed and pulped and annihilated and devoured.

She felt a molten jab of jealousy. She wished she could reach out and shred the soul of her other version and then live in her skin. Randidly Ghosthound would be hers in another way. She wouldn’t need to break off their connection now.

She flicked the chains, comforting herself in the suffering she felt on the other end, as the elites of the Nexus rolled and struggled. Why is it, whenever I think I’ve found happiness, a dark interloper always arrives to take it away? This long shadow cast across my life… is it truly impossible to escape?

Devick shed those emotions a split second after experiencing them; right now, they were just a distraction. In her place, the Actus Suprem stretched and smiled with lips and hair as red as blood. “I have craved this moment for a very, very long time Randidly Ghosthound. Do not leave me disappointed. You pride yourself on your firm disposition? Show it to me.”

She felt the resulting surge in his image power and relished in it. His face curled, a mass of negative emotions she had inflicted upon him. Her own joy grew and grew, expanding to fill her body. She knew, fueled by this emotion, she would be able to make some serious headway on gathering the Grand Fates like this.

However, Devick felt the shift in the air behind her and her expression fell. Tch, minor characters always choose the most narcissistic times to reassert themselves… can’t they tell we were approaching a climax? But I suppose a great pleasure delayed is great pleasure spread…

The crackling maelstrom of Elhume’s energy form walked across the large dais. His presence had tripled after he had gone to gather additional foci for his great will. “The Second Fist: Vengeance.”

The wounds Randidly had inflicted on him became ammunition and Elhume unleashed his whole stockpile with a fist that warped the edges of the Grand Fate formation when it passed. Devick’s chains rattled, torn between enjoying the violence and wanting to slither up and capture this new strike.

In the end, Devick winked at Randidly, gave a ‘what can you do’ shrug, and then turned back to her own labor. Her time would definitely come. As much as she hated it, her current role required patience.

Randidly scowled and growled, but his attention pivoted toward Elhume.