Episode 3, Act 2 - The Mole

=- June 7th, 2022 -=

=-⚜️-=

I could feel the tension coursing through the meeting room. As the last of the priestesses left, Clarisse gave me such a concerned look that I almost blew our pretense. What was it that Mad Dog had said? We cannot let her know that she's failed, or the [Mangleweaves] will trigger. I could see that Chii was already getting to work; no doubt, she was opening up Clarisse's [Character Sheet]. If we acted quickly, and covertly, we might be able to save her life.

"I just wanted to commend you on your performance so far," I lied effortlessly, smoothly inventing a cover story. "I've been watching you since you enrolled in the Priestess program, Clarisse." Mad Dog was silent, but I could feel her buzzing in my brain. She was preparing something, in case a [Mangleweave] triggered. Something with a long cast time.

"Thank you, Divine Majesty." Clarisse lowers her eyes, her face red. "I had no idea you took such interest in my studies. I am undeserving." It was hard to believe that Clarisse, of all the priestesses gathered, could have been a mole for the Council of Knots. It wasn't unheard of; Calico was not known for her mercy. She would abduct anyone who showed a sign of weakness and turn them against us.

I wonder what Clarisse's price was. "I wanted to ask why you became a priestess in the first place. You are highly talented in a wide range of fields." As I spoke, a file manifested and fell into my hand: a [Record of Employment], complete with a list of accomplishments by Clarisse.

My skills were versatile. As Royalty, I could treat the entire company as an extension of my body. The printers held my blood as ink, my memories were littered about the office as filing cabinets. Every one of the workers acted as my muscles, my eyes and my ears, and I could develop them with my own skills and empower them with my bonuses.

While under my roof, I knew what was happening to my workers at all times. Clarisse was no exception; I could view everything about her at any time. Pull her up as a file, just another number on my character sheet, and manifest it into this world. I held such a record in my hand.

"Graduated from Oxford with a doctorate in archaeology. Not the most lucrative of professions, but it would have paid the bills. You had offers from every university of your choosing, but you declined all of them. Instead, you applied for us." I turned the page. "You said your thesis was written on Neverlanders in a historical context."

"That's right." Clarisse nodded. "I was one of the first to notice the link between historical events and the world we live in today. Not only was I early to identify these events as part of a cycle, I was able to conclusively identify the presence of an ancient Neverlander incursion point, located off the coast of New England."

"Yes, the flooded colony of Raleigh. We're well aware of that site; Magimaid has established a research institution in Plymouth." I felt my lips quirk, unsure what to do with my expression as a whole. "Which is why it is curious that you would decline our offer to lead that institution. You are, by all accounts, a brilliant woman; your loss would be a great loss to the field of magical archaeology."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean by that, Divine Majesty?" Clarisse played the fool, trying to act confused to throw me off the trail. "I respect the Divine greatly. That is why I wish to serve them."

"I mean that this is a dangerous profession, Clarisse. One unsuited for someone at your level. You've passed every exam measuring your faith, bravery and we have no doubt that you would give your life for your Divine. But I must simply ask why such a talented woman as you should give your life for our cause," I spoke with a conviction I hadn't expected from myself. I thought I was above believing in the things I said. "When you could do such good for the world by keeping your head down and working as the head of our Plymouth research center."

"...with all respect, Divine Majesty, I am not interested in your position. I am only interested in serving the divine." Clarisse shakes her head at me. "Is that all?"

I glanced at Chii, turning my head. She gave a shake of own. "No luck! These are really tangled up, and half her threads are chopped up. I'll need about an hour to finish this job, especially without killing her!"

That's an hour we don't have. We'll just have to make do and try to salvage what's left, if anything. Mad Dog, cast away.

(She already has.) Mad Dog's fingers move and she snaps.

Rounds of combat? Haven't seen that phrase for a while. These things are usually reserved for battles inside the Neverlands itself. My perception of time slows, and I take this opportunity to trigger [Castle Labyrinth]. My skill casts at the same speed as ever, making me wonder what the Accelerated Perception is actually doing for my combat skills, until I see that the world is moving in slow motion.

I was not casting at the same speed; I was casting faster, and just perceived the skill as casting with the same timing. Essentially, my thought speed had improved by double or more; I had time to reflect on the rate of casting. I never had this much breathing room in combat.

The Labyrinth formed as I willed it, isolating the meeting chamber from the rest of the world, from reality itself. Heavy steel bars drop from the exteriors of the window frames. The door slams shut, sealing with the face of a steel vault, and the walls begin to crumble and push outwards, making space for new walls of stone and metal.

Manacles drape from the walls as they bust through plaster, steel spikes and metal rings extending outwards. [Paper Spike] and [Binder Rings] don't look so silly now, do they, Mad Dog?

(I could have pursued stronger forms if you discarded my ambitions. An office means nothing to a castle.) Mad Dog readies herself, ribbons of pink silk extending up her arms in a lattice structure.

You don't know what you're talking about. They synergize with my Labyrinth perfectly; the horrors of the office are more than suited to dispatch Malice. I snatch my briefcase from the ground, and open it up. Clothes spill out and wrap around my body, tying my hair into a neat bun and slipping a yellow maid dress over my suit. My clothes dissolve and meld into flesh, becoming a part of me.

Clarisse looks down... her eyes dull. "I failed the interview, didn't I?" She chews at her lip. "Why? Why did I fail? I would have made a wonderful priestess... I don't want to be an archaeologist any more!" I could feel her tainted influence growing as she began to shift and change herself. Violet threads exposed themselves, needling their way out of her skin and winding their way up in the air.

"Clarisse, calm down. We can still help you. We just need to remove those threads in your body. Okay? Just stay calm." The handle of my briefcase snapped, and I flicked the body of the case forwards. The leather slid aside, exposing two handles. I pressed down on the top of my briefcase with my shoe, pulling both handles at once; they curved inwards to join each other and gave way to two gleaming blades of metal, a large pair of scissors.

Mad Dog removed her feather-duster, gripping the wooden handle and extending it into a long staff. With a shake of her rod, a plume of feathers bloomed outwards from the handle. With a twist, she held the feather-broom aloft.

While we transformed, Clarisse had been busy herself. Her wires began sinking their way into the roof of my labyrinth, anchoring themselves as she groaned, "Calico said you would get in the way of my dreams." I could see  more threads winding their way out of her skin. Mangleworms. It was critical that we dealt with them quickly, if we wanted to maximize her survival. "I should have listened to her."

Mad Dog was first to act. Her mind shifted, melded into one that was not my own. I would have to fight without her support from her on.

Thanks, Mad Dog. You handle things in there; I'll handle the worms.

 

=-⚜️➡️📕-=

 

Breathe in; breathe out.

It was one beast to plan an archaeological dig underwater, but it was a beast of a different breed to execute those plans. The submarines we'd designed for the expedition were built with a blend of old and new technology; magic made anything, everything possible. With the help of a Divine and her Neverlander, we were able to create a machine like none other to explore the ocean before it.

The floor was made of ocular glass, and the flexible lengths of steel allowed the ship to operate as if it had tentacles. While these tentacles might normally disturb the ocean floor and local wildlife, they had managed to find a solution with nature magic. Sap taken from the tree of a generous magical donor was alloyed with gold mined from the sea floor, creating a rubbery mineral that could impact with the seabed without disturbing the peace and sanctuary of the ocean.

A revolutionary discovery, but why was I looking into this in the first place? I tried to collect my thoughts, tugged on a few of the strings hanging from above. These strings allowed me to manipulate the tentacles of the submersible, to engage the locomotion and approach. To sink deeper into the caverns at the bottom of the Gully Trench. One of my research partners, Calliope Kolar, designed this ingenious system to move the limbs.

But why was I moving? Where was I going? I tried to think, tried to remember. I was reading accounts about the settling of America by European colonists. Many of the archaeological digs in the region that were still intact explored these early settlements, the sites of nomadic tribes in early America and the colonial projects that failed. Right! There was that project which failed...

Raleigh? The explorer, Raleigh, chartered a boat to this place. He told the settlers to build on an unoccupied territory, but then they were confronted by a local tribe. They had settled on the tribe's burial ground; their holy site, the place where they entombed their dead. There wasn't any record of zombies or ghosts or anything like that.

(Undead don't exist.)

Undead don't exist. But there was something notable in those early records. One of the settlers wrote some, erm, politically incorrect words about a medicine woman that belonged to the tribe. Someone with mystical powers, guided by the spirits of the sea. She gave the colony a warning; to leave this land, or perish.

The records that talk about the medicine woman end there. But there were other records of a natural disaster that befell the land. The settlers did not heed the advice of the medicine woman; they were all met with a watery grave. The diary I looked into talked about a woman who sang a terrible song; each night, more of the settlers would walk into the open sea, seeking her song. Man, woman and child would walk into the ocean, only to turn up drowned ashore the next day.

The city of Raleigh itself did not survive the floods and rain that followed; it slipped into sea itself, building by building, dragged into the depths, until it met the fate of Atlantis The burial ground was unoccupied to this day, left as a burial site. To let the dead lie.

One of the legs of the submersible has snagged. Strange. I wrest it free of the crevice it had slipped into, wrapping around a stalagmite in the cavern to gain leverage. Then, I continued onwards.

(Keep moving. I let go of the stalagmite. I don't need it, not to advance. I just need to keep moving.)

Keep moving. Right. There were more strange coincidences that prompted looking into the matter. The masses of driftwood we can find at the Raleigh site had themselves been arranged into a shape which more or less matched the cartographical data we had of the time. When the first few surveys of the Raleigh site were conducted, we were surprised to find an entire city under the water, neatly laid out with nice cobble roads.

Imagine that. A whole city, neatly arranged underwater. The common consensus was that the colony had been built on an unstable geological bed, and had simply sunk into the water over time. The settlers died of starvation and disease, not drowning; not that you could tell the difference with bones. You'd need skin, flesh to tell the difference. These bones had been picked clean.

Picked clean. That's another funny coincidence. I wondered how the meat was stripped off the bones? I'd have to test it. My tentacle wrapped around another stalagmite, but the stalagmite snapped. I lost my footing, and had to recover.

(No stripping of bones for me. I should keep thinking happy thoughts.)

I should keep thinking happy thoughts. Even though there's so much water down here, and it's just so... dark. I see a flash of something underneath the submersible; stripes of lilac and pink, the lights strobe as it passes. I can almost hear it whispering.

( pull the strings )

(I quiet those voices in my head.)

I pull a string, quietly. I can feel something oozing, dripping. I look up, and see that I've pulled a cork by accident. A thick and viscous pink ooze starts to drip from the hole I've opened up. I reach out my finger, to taste it. Strawberries and marshmallows.

(Malty?)

It is quite malty. That observation aside, it is a distraction. I place my fingers back onto the control rings, manipulate the limbs of the craft once more. I need to prove it. I know what we've found. The arrangement of the city was not an accident.

Neverlanders. They seemed new, but that couldn't be. They resemble our concepts of the world too closely. Their monsters, the Malice, were things of fairy tales and nightmares, but never so different that humans lost all comprehension of their majesty.

( lèse-majesté )

(I can't comprehend French.)

I can't kill Divine Majesty, I don't know French!

There was a Neverlander here. I was sure of it. I could find evidence that this was an incursion point. That magical warriors really existed, even back then. All I had to do was find evidence. Trawl this cavern; the one that begins in the city of Raleigh. The one that continues through to Gully Trench.

With a few more pulls, I'll break through. I'll be on the seafloor once more. I can see her. I can see the city of

( RY'LEH )

( DON'T )

(Wrong way.)

The wrong way. I'm moving the wrong way to see her. But I'm so close. Please. I just want to see her.

A string falls.

It opens a hole.

I can't control it.

(I can control it. I need to hold strong.)

I started to panic inside of this submersible. It's small. It's cramped. What's the way forward?

( pound on the controls )

I pounded against the controls. I lifted a tentacle, and

(Release my prey)

released my prey, smashing the tentacle into the ground. The string breaks. I pulled too hard.

(I need to keep pulling.)

( i need you. )

(I need you--)

I need you so much. Where are you?

( Don't come closer. )

Why? I just want to see you again.

( to be her priestess. )

(You don't have to be her priestess.)

Nothing I do brings us closer.

( Our worlds are not the same. )

Closer to

( RY'LEH! )

( Don't )

( comprehend )

her

I need

( to be. )

her

( French )

(kiss)

( DON'T )

kiss

(keep pulling.)

( keep pulling, wait-- )

( DON'T )

My eyes were bleeding. Why were my eyes bleeding? I couldn't sea my eyes. There's more. The sea water. The strings kept snapping. I kept pulling. I'm drowning. Heeded her warning. I'm drowning. I can't see the city

( RY'LEH! )

It's filling up

THERE'S PINK EVERYWHERE

(Malty?)

I'm drowning please Riley I'm drowning I don't want to drown

( There isn't more you have to stay go, please. )

( but i can't breathe without strings. )

I'm going to die I don't have strings I don't want to forget you I

(Keep my head above the water!)

( I don't want to hurt you. )

I can't drown here, I need to see you, I need to see your smile, I can't forget you, please, don't abandon me...

(Just a little longer!)

( I can't breath in a world without you. )

the pink is too much there's too much pink

(This doesn't exist!)

( Why did you do this to me? )

[ im drowning. ]

 

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