City of Opportunities 8 – Picked Unclean

Eldred had often imagined what it must be like to step through a portal. He had thought it would be disorienting or that, at a minimum, he would feel the barrier between worlds as a ‘membrane’ he pushed through.

The reality was strangely mundane. He took a stop from one level of elevation to another. Steel was replaced with stone. The scent of the cavern was the same on both sides. It really wasn’t that different to walking from one room into another.

“Should I remain manifest?” Nyx asked. “I worry I will slow you down.”

A literal meaning of those words. Eldred was psychologically tolerating the pain of sustaining her presence quite well, but physically it was still dragging on him. Reflexes were dulled and anything beyond base movement was a greater exertion than it ought to have been. “No, I want you around.”

“You won’t have a lot of time feeling her up while we look around,” Avari pointed out while loading a precautionary bolt into her crossbow.

“It’s not about that,” he responded to a slight, disappointed sigh from his banshee. “She can phase through walls. We might be able to find something hidden.”

“Oh?” Avari rested the weapon against her shoulder, then gave the driven man a respectful nod. “Didn’t think you had it in you – smart thinking, that is.”

“Must you tease him at all times?” Nyx complained.

“Trust me, when you’re a shortstack, you either learn to bite or to hide behind someone’s legs and my dad never gave that option.” Avari suddenly straightened up at her own words. Had she said something she wasn’t supposed to? “Anyhow, smart thinking, let’s go ahead and have a look around.”

They chose one of the tunnels leading out of the base camp at random. Another advantage of using a well-travelled world like this for their first expedition was the yellow arrows painted on the wall every ten metres. If they were ever lost, those would put them back on the way home in no time. Conveniently, the arrows also, indirectly, marked where people had been before.

Eldred took point. Reportedly, what remained of wildlife on this Chunk of Attarius was slow and witless. Only elementals and elementally infused animals had survived the god’s wrath, but they were on a world with broken leylines. What remained of natural mana on this piece of a planet was not enough to properly sustain real threats.

“Why these weapons?” Eldred tapped the dagger on his waist and gestured towards Avari’s selection of armaments. “Not a critique, to be clear, I am just curious. Wouldn’t guns be more effective?”

“Guns are for normie-on-normie violence,” Avari responded plainly. “We’re normies right now, so you wouldn’t be wrong to say that we could be using them, but it builds bad habits.”

“Like?” Eldred asked.

“You two really know nothing, do you?” It was a purely rhetorical question. Between Eldred’s thoroughly unimpressive education and life trajectory and Nyx’s amnesia, the best they had of anything was bare fundamentals or scraps. “How do you think Cultivators fight?”

“They utilise their Cores?”

Avari let out a long sigh. “And how do they do that?”

“I… don’t know,” Eldred admitted.

Shaking her head, the gremlin, all the same, continued with her explanation. “We can broadly split Cultivators up into mages and martial artists. It’s really, really broad, but it’ll work well enough for a layman like you. Mages manipulate the mortal realm through the Cores they have shaped in their inner realm. Martial artists imbue their powers into their limbs or objects that they are holding.”

“And you cannot hold a bullet?” Eldred asked.

“Not in the way that matters,” Avari confirmed. “Obviously hypersonic pieces of metal are still pretty dangerous on their own, but practically every first Core allows a technique to deal with them and at some point the passive influence Cultivators have over the mortal realm effectively shrouds them in layers of ki that is, conveniently, very good at slowing down fast, small objects.”

“That air around you becomes a bulletproof vest?”

“You could put it like that. Your body also gets tougher. The only thing that can injure a Cultivator is someone with supernatural might of their own.” Avari raised up her crossbow. “Basically, you need to throw something at them that is steeped in your own reality manipulating bullshit. Mana doesn’t linger in objects for long, so you can’t just craft bullets with it. You can charge up a crossbow bolt while you reload though and the weapon that is in your hand is always some degree of empowered.”

Nyx lowered her head to Avari’s level, still hovering besides them. “Is it ki or mana?”

“Synonyms, in most situations.” Avari shrugged, a motion that would have made her tits bounce if the black bodysuit didn’t hug them so tightly. “Mana is a general term for magical energy, ki is specifically used for Cultivators. Cultivation is just how most people in Iridescia interface with the supernatural. There’s obviously entities that have their own innate kinds of magic.”

“Such as me?” Nyx asked.

“And me and succubi and elves and… most species, really.” Avari turned her eyes to Eldred. “Humans are a funny bunch. They got no innate gifts, no way to innately tap into leylines or atmospheric mana. You don’t even grow any faster to make up for it. All the same, they’re over-represented in the leadership roles of Iridescia, while being so rare in the middle ranks. It’s like most of you are useless but when one of you breaks through, you just go straight to the top, somehow.”

“I mean… just look at me.” Eldred smirked. “Perhaps ambition is the gift given to humanity?”

“Nah, too many of you just sit on your asses all day,” Avari dismissed the theory out of hand. “Way I see it, when humans realize that they haven’t gotten any freebies from the universe, they sort of go crazy and then they just go to the top or die.”

“Also an accurate read, I definitely went mad in some way.”

Nyx was swift to encourage him, grabbing his right arm in eager possessiveness. “An attractive way.”

“You’re both crazy.” Avari shook her head, then snapped to the path ahead.

Eldred noticed it a moment later. It was a squeaky sound, like a rat or a sponge cleaning a smooth metal surface. The latter was closer to reality in this case.

Ahead of them was a four-legged creature, about the size of a dog. Each of its limbs ended in a set of three long claws. On the hindlegs, those claws pointed backwards, giving the creature an alien look. The head only reinforced that feeling. It had two black, tiny eyes, set above a mass of spongy tissue where the mouth would have been. It rubbed up against the wall, gradually wearing away the stone.

On close inspection, Eldred noticed that the brown scales were made from stone. ‘Elementally infused animals and elementals are all that survived,’ he reminded himself. This appeared to be one of the former.

“Perfect,” Avari said. “A Slackmole, very easy prey. Eldred, I want you to walk towards it. Nyx, once it notices him, I want you to scream at it. I’ll finish it off with one bolt.”

His banshee looked to Eldred for input, who nodded. Though he did consider himself the leader of this little expedition, not making use of Avari’s knowledge would have been stupid. Following her suggestion, he advanced down the tunnel.

The creature must have suffered from intense shortsightedness. It only noticed Eldred when he was within five metres. Then and only then did it suddenly tense up.

Nyx’s wail was a thing of beauty and terror. A singular note, crystal clear and stretched out with the acumen of an opera’s diva, echoed in the corridor. Underneath it mingled the power of the banshee’s nature, a high-pitched screech that resonated in the soul.

Had his banshee still drawn her power from the leylines, such power would have lain in her voice that the creature would have instantly suffered a heart attack. Drawing from Eldred’s rather limited vitality had the effect limited to a spike in its fear. Fortunately, that diminishment in power had been accompanied by the capacity to control this ability in the first place.

The Slackmole jumped into the air, exposing its poorly scaled belly. A crossbow bolt nailed it in the chest, sending it flying on its back. It curled up in an attempt to defend itself. Life left it before it finished the motion.

Avari stepped forwards, her tail tapping the animal, before clicking her tongue. “Worthless,” she complained.

“Context?” Eldred requested.

“Slackmoles are elemental beasts that scrub metal off surfaces. Older they get, the more metals they accumulate. They don’t care what metals though. This one just has worthless stuff inside, copper probably.”

That was part of what Eldred had been curious about but did not illuminate everything. “And you know it is worthless how?”

Avari answered while pulling the sturdy bolt from the body of rock and metal. “Because I’m a gremlin. When I touch stuff with my tail, I get a rough idea of its monetary value. Perk of being a greed demon and all of that.”

“Interesting… any other blessings for your species?” Eldred wondered.

“Just the usual shortstack three: men do everything for us, very flexible insides, and the relative strength of a person two heads taller.” Demonstrating the last point, Avari drew back the string of her crossbow with relative ease. Once it was secure behind the protruding bit of metal that connected to the trigger, she lowered the weapon again.

Eldred was more interested in the second point. He had heard that shortstacks were natural size queens, but had never been entirely sure if that was something men just said to each other or actual widespread knowledge. Everything pointed towards the latter. ‘Obviously there was still a lot of that going around,’ he thought, ‘but maybe some women really are built like that.’

Hoping he would find out in due time, he continued to lead them.

_________________________________________________________________________

“I am feeling somewhat useless,” Eldred admitted.

They had made camp in a dark corner of the caves. After several hours of walking, they had simply been too tired to continue. The good news was that they were reaching parts of the world that were less frequented. The cables that fed the lumen crystals overhead grew lesser in number, as did the lights themselves. Tomorrow, they hoped, they would reach a part of the mine that hadn’t been stripped clean of anything but Slackmoles.

Slackmoles – Eldred was beginning to grow tired of those creatures. Five had been encountered and five had been taken out the same way. Advance, scare, shoot, a hunting strategy in which he did nothing of note. He almost felt bad for killing them, defenceless as they were. Alas, every Slackmole killed was a chance at a small fortune. In the grand scheme of things, they were critters filled with money.

“Technically, everything Nyx does is your credit,” Avari pointed out.

“It is true,” the banshee agreed.

“…Maybe,” Eldred said, reluctantly. He was not convinced by it. This felt like he was slowing down, like that momentum he had been building over the last two days was petering out. Was he being pulled back to reality? Was he going to let it happen?

“Got to hand it to you, this is better than sitting at my desk.” Unlike him, Avari was in a good mood. Her pearly white teeth tore chunks of the nutrient bar that served as her dinner. Eldred had already devoured his. All of the vitality going to Nyx left him famished. “You two are a riot. An uninformed, hilarious riot.”

“Glad to be of entertainment,” Eldred drawled.

“Got something to add, Nyx?”

“Not really,” the ghost lady answered.

“Oh, come on.” A short position shift for comfort interrupted Avari’s outcry. “You two chat, I’m trying to get you to chat with me too. What? Can’t talk to shorties?”

Icy blue eyes focused on the gremlin with a degree of distaste. “You were rude to my Eldred.”

“Yeah, I was… again, it’s just the way I am… I know that’s grating.” The gremlin scratched the back of her head, golden eyes averted. “Look, I was wrong to blow you off. I’ve no idea if this will work out but I respect the hustle. You’re clearly no coward and you might have a screw loose, but you aren’t unreasonable.” After a moment’s hesitation, she gave Nyx a seeking glance. “That good enough of an apology?”

“…It will suffice,” his banshee relented.

“Cool, cool – then let me engage in the age old tradition of gossiping: what the Hells are you two?”

‘Good question, actually,’ Eldred thought. It was one he had simply ignored so far. Speaking about it seemed so unnecessary.

“He is the man I haunt,” Nyx gave her answer, delivered in an even tone of voice.

“Okay, so, I will break this to you: first off, normal ghost contracts are done with blood, not cum. Secondly, even when you do them with ‘male essence’, that doesn’t mean you need to stroke his hair at every opportunity.”

Nyx glared at the gremlin and Eldred echoed the sentiment. Was it physically necessary for his banshee to sit behind him, running her slender fingers over his head? No, of course not. Was it fueling his soul? Yes. All of the yes.

Arms shot up in surrender. “Whoa, I am not judging what you have. In fact, I am a little bit jealous.”

“You can join.”

That didn’t come out of Eldred’s mouth. Nyx wrapped her arms around Eldred’s shoulders, draping her alluring form over him like a comforting blanket. “She can?” he asked. He had been prepared to persuade her when the time came. Having this served to him on a silver platter felt convenient.

“If she stays well-behaved,” Nyx added.

Avari freed herself of her own shock with a little laughing toss of her head. “I really don’t understand why you are this venerating of this guy.”

“Perhaps I am missing context.” Even as she said that, the ghost lady pressed herself tighter against Eldred. “Perhaps my lack of memories is making him appear larger than he is. All the same, for as weak as he is of frame right now, I believe it ordained that my Eldred shall become a legend. His will is like corded steel. That, alone, has my highest admiration.” She pressed a kiss on his cheek. “He delivered me from loneliness. My loyalty has been earned.”

The next time she leaned in, she found his lips instead. Hand on the back of her head, Eldred kept her pinned for as long as his hunger remained. While they made out, Avari finished her nutrient bar in a few, swift chomps.

“If you’re good with it, I might join…” Eldred broke the kiss to stare eagerly at her. “…later.” The added word had his expression fall. Laughing aloud, Avari gave him a friendly ‘kick’ to the knee. “Sorry, I’m just messing with you. I’m not opposed to harems or anything, but I have no idea where you’ll be a week from now.”

“That’s fair,” Eldred grunted. “Neither do I.”

“All you know is that it’ll be somewhere better, right?” Avari asked. “That’s the hope?”

“Not the hope,” he responded, a grim look on his face. “I am not willing to strive for anything less than certainty.”