– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Rising Moon, Day 80 –

Terry sat cross-legged on the ground at the edge of an enormous forest. He had left Shroomville in the morning and was now alone. As much as he wanted to trust his newfolk friends, he wasn't done verifying that he could trust them.

He wasn't done establishing facts.

Terry closed his eyes and spread his mana detection field. He had practiced a lot with Oz, but he still wasn't entirely used to having the double sensation from both the regular plane and the shadow plane.

It certainly didn't help that the sensation he received from Oz as his conduit felt muted and decidedly different from his direct mana perception.

His mana touch had required some getting used to, but in the end, it was just one part he had always felt but never separated from his mana sense. It was a bit like closing one of his eyes and having to learn to judge distance with the information available to a single eye instead of directly perceiving depth with the combined three-dimensional vision of two.

Sensing through Oz as his proxy was more like growing an entirely new eye. An eye that was omni-directional, just like his mana sense, but separate yet again. It reminded Terry of his time in the Greenhouse when he was first getting used to having his mana sense on top of his regular vision.

Come to think of it, mana sight and soulsight were like perceiving new colors, but mana sense was already like a new eye completely.

So how many eyes does that make now?

Something to keep in mind if I ever meet newfolk with many pairs of eyes. They're just like me, no matter how they look.

"Focus." Terry reminded himself. He wasn't sitting here to really practice his sensing through Oz, at least not primarily. He could practice that part just fine near Shroomville.

No, the reason that Terry had distanced himself from Bugsby and Shroomling was that he wanted to confirm that his commands to Oz were received and understood even without the two present.

Terry knew that his quick progress with Oz was mostly due to the presence of the two.

Shroomling and the shroomans seemed to have a real knack for taming animals, even when ignoring the miraculous mana link with the spore powder.

Bugsby, for his part, had an incredible inherent skill for picking up languages and even the strangest communication patterns.

Even though Terry was grateful for the help, and for his rapidly increasing vocabulary for talking slime, he still felt compelled to check that his communication was actually his, and that there wasn't anyone secretly acting as a proxy to trick him into believing there was a connection with the slime that wasn't there.

A part of Terry's mind was calling him paranoid.

But whenever the accusation was levied against him, the image of the monster involuntarily surfaced in front of his mental eye, and Terry persisted in his endeavor.

Terry distrusted the locals, especially the moon elves, but he also didn't allow himself to trust the shroomans or Bugsby.

Not completely.

Not yet.

And while you're taking your sweet time, establishing facts, the rest of the realm is ravaged by the rampaging mana curse. Good job, Terry.

"Shut up," hissed Terry. He used the link in his mana to instruct Oz, who was moving around for him in the shadow plane.

Terry ordered his tamed slime to move in specific patterns.

To attack a specific spot.

To hide.

To switch between the regular plane and the shadow plane.

To spread mana or to pull it back…

Countless tests of their practiced commands, until he called Oz back to him.

Terry immediately prepared a treat for Oz, who wiggled gleefully.

The little glutton.

Terry caught himself smiling while massaging the slime and checking soulsight to ensure that Oz was enjoying the rewards. Even with all the assistance from the shroomans and Bugsby, Terry still had to earn the slime's trust and affection.

…which apparently just requires endless food and mana. I really have to keep Oz away from any capable shadow users that would feed it more than I can provide. The little glutton might sell me out otherwise.

Terry smiled wryly while thinking nonsense. While massaging the feeding slime, his eyes couldn't help but drift to the second core swimming in the gelatinous blob.

So strange…

A day earlier, Terry had been very excited, because he had found another shadow-aspected slime core in his dimensional storage, albeit a much smaller one.

Terry had considered summoning a second slime to verify the powder's abilities without the supervision of Bugsby or the shroomans, but before he had a chance, Oz had already enveloped the core with a voracious hunger.

Terry couldn't blame the slime for the core cannibalism, given that he had chosen a bad time to retrieve the core from his storage. Normally, when Terry held something out while massaging Oz, it was food for the slime.

Terry had first felt like cursing, but now he was curious. It had been a day, but the small core didn't show any changes.

Surprisingly, it was the large core of Oz itself that was showing a change. A change that Terry might have missed if he hadn't been linked with Oz or if he hadn't had access to mana touch to confirm what he was sensing.

Oz's core was changing its shape.

It was still too early to tell more, though.

Put it on the list for questions to ask Samuel…

"Not sure if he would know about this," mumbled Terry to himself. Between summoning slimes from monster cores and linking up with a slime's mana through spore powder, he doubted that even a dungeon expert like Samuel would have answers to the kind of questions Terry had.

Even if he doesn't have the answers, uncle would definitely be excited about the question…

Terry missed having his family close by to chat. Already, the things he had learned about slimes could probably fill many days of discussions with his uncle Samuel.

A part of him felt regretful that he hadn't simply stayed in his native realm, but in the end, Terry knew he had made the right choice.

Even though Terry would always carry a curious Academy student inside of himself wherever he went, he wasn't a scholar, nor would he ever be. That simply wasn't the person he wanted to become.

He loved learning, but his sights were set on the Path of a Mage, which was about more than just research and discovery.

After the meal break, Terry continued his training session with his tamed slime.

Terry tested how far he could push Oz to spread his linked mana in the shadow realm. He was happily surprised to realize that Oz's own mana sense did not prove to be the limit of what Terry could perceive from the linked mana.

Even though Oz communicated that it couldn't control the mana beyond a certain range, Terry could still feel it. It would represent a waste of mana, but he thought he already knew a workable workaround to mitigate the lack of efficiency.

All Terry had to do was to teach Oz the way to emit mana pulses the way he himself had done before getting the hang of mana touch and further extending his reach. A short and swift pulse of mana would work to trade sensitivity for mana efficiency for the same range.

Beyond that, Terry only had to keep Oz well-fed, which the little glutton would certainly not object to.

Terry recalled Oz and made his way back to Shroomville. If he wanted to teach the complex vortex compression required for the pulse discharges to the slime, then he would prefer Bugsby and Shroomling there to help convey the complex concepts involved.

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***

Terry practiced his mana compression when his attention was drawn to a sensation from Oz's pulses in the shadow plane.

Terry dismantled his sequence of experimental external focus refractors designed to eventually squeeze his mana into liquid. He stepped into the shadow plane to confirm his suspicion with direct mana detection.

The moment his unaltered naturalized mana enveloped the figure speeding through the shadows, Terry was sure his first guess had been right, and he allowed himself a proud smile for recognizing the person despite the signature distortion of the linked mana.

Patricia?

Terry couldn't help but wonder what Lori's companion was doing here on her own. When the mage specializing in shadow magic finally arrived, she appeared taken aback at being welcomed immediately.

"How did you—?" Patricia furrowed her brow. She knew about Terry's mana touch from which it proved near-impossible to hide from, but given her spell-assisted traveling speed, it was quite the coincidence for him to scout the shadows right when she had entered his range. "Were you just lurking around in the shadows?"

Patricia wondered if Terry already knew what she was about to warn him about. Either that or his sensory range had extended yet again. Both options appeared ridiculous… but not entirely impossible.

"No, but Oz was," said Terry with a smile that contained the faintest hint of pride. He pointed at a shadow on the floor not far away, and the black ground slowly changed shape to show a slime. "Oz, Patricia. Patricia, Oz."

Patricia dazedly moved her gaze from Terry to the slime and back. Somehow, the real answer seemed more ridiculous than either of the options she had considered. She briefly shook her head. This wasn't important now. "We have to talk."

The edge in Patricia's voice wiped any traces of a smile from Terry's face. "What's going on?"

"The situation is boiling over," said Patricia. "Do you still intend to protect the…?" She looked around.

"They're all in the regular plane," said Terry. "And yes." He was surprised to hear the firmness in his own voice. "If they still believe they have to kill Shroomling to create a cure, then there is nothing to talk about."

Patricia nodded. "We expected as much. As soon as we received Khaled's message that the… shroomans." She cleared her throat slightly. "That the shroomans are a proper folk, Jorg already knew where this was going. Going by the messages we received from Tiana, she and Vess are prepared as well."

"So why are you here?" asked Terry. He had a bad premonition. "When you said 'boiling over', do you mean the tension with the locals?"

"Not just the locals," stressed Patricia. "Nearly half of the expedition is siding with the moon elves against you on this. They're branding you a fool that is prolonging the curse…" She paused. "At best. Some are going so far as to call you a traitor or accuse you of being prejudiced against elves. It's worse in the moon elf camp, but even in our camp with the sun elves, it's bad."

Patricia took a deep breath. "And to be honest, I can see where everyone is coming from. You haven't been at the camps. I haven't seen the moon elf camp yet, but from what I hear, it's even worse than what I've seen with the sun elves. This curse is absolutely horrible. If even half of what they told us about the Deadlands is true, then we have to stop it at all costs."

'At all costs.'

Terry frowned. That sounded way too similar to the monster's 'what was necessary.' He could see where they're coming from, but something inside him was rebelling at the thought.

No, not at the thought itself.

At the framing that forbids further thoughts.

"Then I hope the researchers are putting all their efforts into finding a cure that doesn't require killing innocent folks," growled Terry.

He was finally able to put his finger on a point that had bothered him about dealing with the monster and those sharing the monster's sentiments.

Terry could see how sacrifice was sometimes necessary, but he found it a lot easier to sympathize with those like the Veilbinder, who focused on the sacrifices they themselves could make, instead of the monster that treated others as pawns to sacrifice at their own discretion.

But that wasn't all.

This is such a messed up choice. Why does it have to be one or the other? Why are they acting as if there can't be another solution?

Why can't there be another choice?

"Because if they don't even bother looking, then we can't possibly find one," said Terry.

"I doubt they see it that way." Patricia shook her head. "The researchers are doing their best to contain the curse, but…"

Patricia searched for the right words. "The moon elves gave a tour to Mercedes's team in which they showed them their nurseries and, well…" She grimaced. "Look, it's bad. The sun elves haven't been trying to persuade us in a similarly forceful manner, but we still got a glimpse of the terrible toll the curse is exacting on this realm. We're not going to persuade Mercedes and the others to calmly assess the situation when they're presented with such apparent urgency."

"So what then?" asked Terry, filled with trepidation at the answer.

"The expedition is not presenting a united front to the locals anymore," said Patricia. "Previously, the moon elves were refraining from coming after you and your friends again out of… fear, I guess. The expedition is helping prevent the spread and treating the curse victims. We also left a powerful impression in our confrontation upon arrival. They didn't want to provoke us, but now that basically half of us are siding with them, they're dropping any semblance of restraint."

Why do I feel at the center of everything, even though I'm the one furthest apart from the expedition camps? Furthest except for Rafael, perhaps…

Patricia clicked her tongue while looking into the shadowy distance. "Even worse, the half siding with the locals is preparing to collaborate completely, which reminds me." She took a deep breath. "You should turn off your signals. Unless you want to be found by the moon elves."

Great.

Terry did as Patricia suggested before cursing inwardly. He was generally keeping his mana cloaked, but his mana detection bubble could leave a vulnerable signal for the hummingbird tracking constructs.

Terry's face was as honest as ever and Patricia could practically read his thoughts in it.

"We haven't shared the tracking constructs with your recorded signature with any that sided with the locals," assured Patricia. "Only our groups, Khaled. and Verecund have some. Yorgos and others have apparently tried to pressure Tiana and Vess, but they refused firmly."

Terry frowned. He was glad he could rely on Tiana and the others, but he didn't want to put them in everyones' bad books.

"It hasn't gotten that bad yet," assured Patricia. "Even if what they're throwing at us is ugly, they're still just words." She shrugged casually like she really didn't mind that.

Terry couldn't help but wonder at Patricia's actions. His thoughts raced while she continued talking.

"Even if you're safe on that front, that's not going to last," warned Patricia. "The researchers and some of the trackers are helping the moon elves develop better ways to locate the shroomans."

Terry's thoughts abruptly halted and he scowled. Even if he could protect Shroomling, he couldn't be everywhere at once.

"And with Yorogs on their side, there won't be any outrunning them, either," finished Patricia grimly.

"Why are you here?" Terry couldn't help but ask.

Patricia looked at him as if he was an idiot. "To warn you? Did that not get across? We thought I was the best messenger. Jorg, as your brother, is watched too closely and his spells are focused on simple mobility whereas I know how to move around undetected."

Terry watched Patricia calmly.

"I also have a cover story," continued Patricia. "I'm supposed to map a trail from the sun camp to the moon elves. Mia helped me take a detour with a teleportation spell. As long as I arrive around the expected time on the other end, none should be the wiser."

Terry puckered his lips and tilted his head slightly.

"I don't know if it's because Mia landed with the sun elves, or if she is generally more suspicious, or maybe more callous, or perhaps she's too wary of your aunt Brynn… Anyway, she doesn't appear to be as drawn into the fight against the curse as Yorgos and the—"

"No," interrupted Terry while trying to order his thoughts. "I mean, why are you on my side?"

I get Jorg. We're not just brothers, but whaka, so if we're in an ambiguous situation, of course we would stand together.

I get Rafael. He has grown up to barely give a shit about anyone and I'm his first real friend. I don't doubt he would stand against the entire expedition if it came down to it.

I get Tiana. We are friends and we worked many missions as companions. We know each other. We trust each other.

I kind of even get Vess. I led the emergency mission in which we saved her and Tiana. She obviously respects Tiana, too, and therefore respects Tiana's judgement regarding me.

But Patricia? The first time we met, she tried to have me kill myself. We may have worked together, but in the end, she's Lori's companion, and there is no reason she should trust me to such a point, especially when Lori isn't even here.

"I mean I understand that this situation is messed up," said Terry. "And that I'm asking for a solution that might not even exist. I'm sure where this is all headed towards, and I'm wondering why you're here on my side?"

And you don't seem to be that bothered by turning half the expedition into your enemy by doing so. Not to mention the hatred by the locals.

For a moment, Patricia's mouth hung open wordlessly. "Because…" She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. She looked at Terry with creased brows. "The way your siblings speak about you reminds me about my brother."

Terry couldn't help but wince when remembering the brother that had died in the battle against Willow's faction in the Libra Outpost. Terry and Patricia's brother had fought on opposite sides in that conflict. Terry had survived while her brother had died.

"My brother was…" Patricia shook her head. "A good person. A much better person than me. Don't give me that look, I'm not just spouting sappy bullshit. I mean it. You've been to Tiv. Have you ever heard about the Black Arachnid?"

Terry frowned. He had indeed. When he had snuck into the open gate at the Preacher's reception. The elven rogue Clarence had mentioned that title after he had tricked Terry into killing the guard to get part of the key to open the safe and get at the blood idol.

From what his aunt Sigille had said, the Black Arachnid was a criminal underground organization in Tiv.

Now that Patricia mentioned the title, the memory of the spider-themed armor Patricia had been wearing during their first encounter surfaced in his mind.

"I can see that you have," said Patricia soberly. "I worked as one of the Arachnid's enforcers back then. I'm not proud of it. I certainly don't have any excuses. It was a way to learn magic, and a way to make good money."

Her gaze drifted off. "My brother could never accept that. He was a better person than me. I can't count how many times we argued about my choices. How many times I called him a fool. How many times I told him to piss off and leave me alone."

Patricia didn't say anything for a while, and Terry chose to remain silent as well.

"I know he loved me, and I loved him, which is why it was so painful to see the desperate disappointment in his eyes whenever we met," continued Patricia. She bit her lips. "The last words I said to him were…" She sighed. "I know that I failed him in life, and I want to do better. That's all I can do."

Terry didn't know what to say.

"My brother is dead, and I can't bring him back," said Patricia. "He's not there to guide me, but the way Lori and Jorg look at you. How you all act with each other…" She smiled sadly. "That's how I wish I had acted. The way they stand with you is how I wish had stood with him."

Patricia's eyes were glistening. "That's how I want to be. Better. Perhaps he would be proud of me, then."

Terry couldn't think of the right words, so he didn't try. He nodded and switched topics. He had heard his answer. It was enough. "Let me introduce you to Shroomville."

Perhaps Patricia has some more insights into their weird ritual dance that creates the spore powder and the plane-mirrored shadow clones the shroomans are creating throughout the process…

***

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