Let’s Not [Obliterate]

 

Hugging Isobel was a unique experience.

She was warm. She was firm. She was small, only reaching Theora’s belly when standing beside her. For the hug, Theora had leaned down.

Moss tea and Dema’s blood sloshed through the inside of the rock, and while the rock itself did not give way, the segments did — Theora had to imagine it was on purpose; that Isobel would shift and rearrange the plates making up her self so that they would gently budge when hugged. And thus, despite Isobel being made of rock, hugging her felt warm, cosy, and soft.

Meanwhile, hugging Bell was also a unique experience. Bell was cold and wet and squishy. Toxic, too, of course. Theora felt her own skin melt and go numb from the acid and venom. It was like eating a cold chilli pepper.

Theora didn’t want either hug to end, especially not after missing them for months, but Dema was eagerly awaiting her turn, so eventually, she relented. 

As Dema’s skin faintly boiled and buzzed against Bell’s body, Theora’s gaze went over the desert they could oversee from the wide patio of a restaurant they’d chosen for their meet-up. Months had passed. They’d met back up in a little merchant town in the far south, where Bell and Iso had stayed while waiting for someone with [Compute] to trade with.

There, far off behind the horizon, was the peninsula Theora hadn’t laid foot on in millenia. Her hometown was located far off that way too, albeit a bit closer. She took a deep breath. It would be their next step, and as much as she wished for it, there was probably nothing that could possibly happen to allow her to postpone it.

Then, the soft clicks and crackles of Dema hugging Isobel resounded, and both of them giggled a little.

“You practised,” Dema observed.

“Yeah,” Isobel said. “Want to become the best hugger!”

Theora’s gaze went over to Bell, the likely training doll of Iso’s efforts. She was looking at her feet, embarrassed. 

“Also —” Isobel added, “I found out how to open an alliance! It would allow us to chat with each other using the Interface. Long distance!”

“It wouldn’t have worked while you were inside the Observatory,” Bell added. “But None still did their best to research it in the meantime. Someone needs to make the alliance with two fellow founding members.”

“Oh!” Dema let out. “So we need to choose founding members?”

Bell snorted. “You, Theora, and None, of course. I have no business being in there.”

Dema nodded sagely. “Yeah, that sounds totally wrong. Big time.”

“It does sound wrong,” Theora confirmed.

“Yep!” Isobel clapped her hands. “Very wrong!” 

“It should not matter,” Theora added. “Once we are all inside, we would grant anyone all organising privileges anyway.” 

Dema smiled. “Yeah.”

Meanwhile, Bell was making tiny steps back, staring at the ground. “My quest hasn’t changed, you know?”

“Mine didn’t, either,” Theora said.

Isobel nodded. “Neither has mine!”

“Yes, but— There is the matter of intent, which—”

“Bell!” Iso cut in. “You are so dense.”

That shut her up.

“Alright,” Isobel went on, “Anyone can make a standard alliance, but there’s a special kind with more options, called an alliance of heroes. The only problem is that those need to be created by someone with Renown tier of Enzyme.”

“Enzyme?” Dema asked.

“It’s the medium Renown rank,” Bell said. “It represents the point after which you are a productive part of the Hero Project.” She shrugged. “Basically, Enzyme has since come to be known as a term for a little cog in a big machine.”

“Isobel’s a Fumbler,” Theora pointed out. “So that wouldn’t be high enough.”

Bell nodded, and sighed. “So that means Theora has to open the alliance.”

They all looked at Theora, and she shrugged. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? … Oh.” Bell was apparently looking at Theora’s botched sheet. “Okay, well. That means…”

“You gotta do it!” Iso cheered. “Bell will be our founder.”

Bell tried to protest for a while — tried to bargain for them to make a regular alliance instead of a heroic one, but to no avail. And so, the founding members were decided to be Bell, Dema, and Iso.

They sat down for some dessert and soon found themselves facing an assortment of cakes and cookies. In the meantime, Dema was inspecting Isobel’s body and absently performing some repairs.

“Speaking of Renown,” Theora said after a while, “We met someone who needs help. She said the [Renown Shop] has a solution for her problems, but I’m wondering if Isobel could also help.”

“Oh?” Iso looked up from her lime cake as Dema was working on her arm.

“Her name is Treeka,” Theora went on. “She’s an old magical tree with the ability to materialise in spectral form in the area under her canopy.”

Isobel beamed. “That sounds so cool!” She tugged her arm in her excitement, causing Dema to yelp and ask her to hold still.

“Yes. But unfortunately, she can’t move away, and since she is located far away from other people, she feels isolated. She’d like to be able to leave.”

“Damn,” Bell went. “That sounds awful. You say she needs something from the [Renown Shop]? I can probably get it, if I save enough credits.”

“Credits can be transferred, right?” Dema asked.

Bell nodded. “They can, but some items are expensive, and there are restrictions on how many credits you can give away.”

Dema frowned. “What? Why?”

Bell winced a little and then folded her tendrils behind her back. “Items bought from the shop, as well as quest rewards, are all materialised System data. In other words, the System can’t just infinitely generate things. It prevents individuals from collecting too many Credits, and it will sometimes refuse large orders. Needs to be spread out.”

Theora had never heard of that before, as per usual when they were talking about the System. That was maybe part of why Afterthoughts had to be defeated — being stray System data, it might help replenish the reward dispensaries.

“That said,” Bell added, “what is it that she wants?”

“A Skill,” Theora replied. “ I don’t know the name. She said it can banish a spirit into an object.”

For a while, Bell chewed on a piece of cherry cake, eyes darting around, unfocused, navigating System prompts. Eventually, she swallowed. “Well. That would be a… unique way to solve her situation. I don’t like it. Obviously I’ll do it if she wants me to, but…”

Dema stopped working on Isobel’s arm, a few little rock pellets suddenly dropping to the ground. She looked over at Bell. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she is the tree. Right?”

Dema nodded.

“Then,” Bell went on, “she’s not really just a ghost, or so. We’d cut her spirit out from her body and dump it into another object. But bodies are somewhat important. They contain memories and… You know, a mind alone can’t…” She sighed. “This Skill is for a specific type of bodiless creature where these things don’t matter. We can use it on Treeka, but if her vessel can’t change with her, she won’t be able to learn, or to retain new memories, or… She’ll be an echo of her former self. Well. In any case, I’ll need to talk to her about it before we do anything of that sort.”

Dema had put her hand in Isobel’s, gently grasping it. Bell might not have noticed that a lot of what she’d just said, at least to some degree, also applied to Isobel’s unchanging rock body.

But Isobel clearly could change as a person and learn new things. So perhaps not all hope was lost. Maybe they could find an appropriate vessel.

“So,” Isobel said, “What kind of tree is she? What does she look like? I studied botany to spec into plant magic to become a [Mossmancer], so let me know any details you remember.”

“Hadn’t seen that kind of tree before,” Dema said. “Red flowers that kinda looked like orchids. Leaves were big and green but fanned out, like little feathers.” She made a gesture with her arms to show their size. “Bark was thin and light… Well, [Appraise] called her a flame tree but I’m not sure if that was the name of the tree or her name.”

Isobel nodded along with the description. “I think I know this kind of tree. Haven’t seen it, but it was in some book. Any idea how old she was?”

“About a thousand years, I think,” Theora replied. At least, that was her estimate based on the stories Treeka had told. “I’m sure she magically enhanced her growth. She seemed capable of doing things like that with the flowers as well.”

Isobel smiled. “I think I have some ideas, maybe. Anything else you noticed?”

“Oh, right!” Dema let out. “She was hollow.”

The smile on Isobel’s face faded. “Hollow?”

Theora frowned, trying to remember the details. “There was a large opening in the bark of the trunk, behind lots of ivy. Dema went inside and her voice echoed, so I assume it was very large.”

“You mean as in, a wound?” Iso asked.

“Yea, could say that,” Dema said. “Her spirit body was only halfway there too. Why, what’s wrong?”

Isobel now looked downright horrified. Biting her lip, she took a moment before asking, “Has she seemed… worried?”

“Yes,” Theora said. “She was worried we might abandon her and not come back. That she wouldn’t see us again.”

Dema frowned, clenching part of her cloak. “You saying she might be hurt? She seemed totally fine!”

Isobel looked back at Dema pitifully, and whispered, “Trees die slowly.”

“Die,” Theora echoed. “I don’t understand. You think that… wound… might be lethal?”

“Well… There are lots of things that like to eat wood, like fungi and insects,” Isobel explained. “The bark is supposed to protect them, but if it gets damaged, parasites get in and eat the tree alive from the inside.”

“Wait, what?” Dema went. “So when a tree gets wounded, they die?”

“Well, most have some protections,” Iso said. “Resin to close the wound… Some trees will grow new bark over the opening, but it takes a long time. They have internal barriers too. But it really depends on the tree. Some species are… really bad at this.”

It dawned on Theora. “Don’t tell me…”

Iso nodded. “As far as I know, flame trees have weak internal barriers. I’ll… need to take a look. I can go there. M-Maybe, close up the wound with special moss. But if it’s an old wound, then what’s already inside…”

“Will feast until she falls,” Bell closed for her. “At some point, any storm might do it.”

Theora clenched her fists against her thighs. They’d left a dying girl behind.

“We need to go back,” she said.