Chapter Fifty-Six – Storm – Part One

Some believe the deities from other worlds are truly divine, others believe they are fabricated by the system. One thing appears to be constant, we humans of Earth… have no idea.

- Church of the Silent Flame, Priest Friarlin -

"So… people live for longer?" I ask.

"We heard it from the first groups of off-worlders, and at first no one took it seriously. After ten years though, our highest level hunters barely aged a few years. After that," she says, eyeing down a knot before throwing it over and hitching it, "They started paying attention."

"Damn."

"Yeah, anyway, depending on what level you get to you can probably survive until the end."

"What happens if we win?"

"We've never met anyone from any world that has won."

"Right," I breathe, looking up into the thick clouds above, "Sage, you got anything to say about that?"

No response.

"He say anything?"

I shake my head.

***

Three days have passed, and the weather seems to be getting more windy lately, only in gusts though thankfully. Light sprinkles bring fresh water to the basins that line the strange palm trees.

With fewer people, Fisban changed her plans on the raft. First, she made us dig down about a meter, in a massive square just off the shoreline. Right at the edge of the high tide marking. This world has two moons, they seem to be farther off than Earth's moon, and they're locked in some kind of orbit around each other. Needless to say, they have a large impact on the tides which rise and fall about three meters in a day.

Verantha still isn't sleeping, I think Gilroy might be having trouble as well. Me though… yeah, I'm getting more used to the lack of peace when I close my eyes.

"Still no word?" Fisban asks.

"No, Sage is still silent."

"Interesting, okay, back to work."

I nod, as if there was something else to do on this island. Although, I guess I could practice using it… Abyss. It seems more content having eaten the items that Fisban catalogued. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with them yet. The earing is the most useful, it gives one the ability to hear over large distances. Strangely, it was an uncommon item. I'm not sure why Abyss wanted it, but based on the feelings it gives me, I think it wants me to upgrade it, or something to that effect. I'm not really sure though, it's difficult to discern coherent thoughts from it.

***

The heat is sweltering as sweat trickles down my brow, the sand below ever greedy to lap it up and pull it to the depths. It's been another three days and I'm working on digging a trench around the large raft with the others. There is little besides the work that we do, that and what I have gleaned from Fisban. There is a lot that I didn't know, and a lot that I am still learning.

We've been on this other world for more than a week now, I haven't heard from Sage since he questioned what to do with his freedom. I think the fucker might have ditched me. Whatever, I don't need him.

Fisban agreed to let me practice using Abyss for the second half of the day, so long as I keep it out of sight from the three others who don't know about it. A compromise I don't mind making. I need to understand Abyss, and understand how best to use it. Here's to hoping I can figure it out. Might be useful if these crude ropes we're making don't hold up.

***

Six whole days have gone by. It was slow going at first, trying to figure out how to command the dark siphoning vines of Abyss, but I figured it out. It's kind of like other skills that are intention-activated. At the end of the day though, controlling the vines is very similar to the mana threads in healing. The siphoning aspect, I haven't figured out yet. I've caught a few small aquatic creatures with Abyss's vines, but I don't feel any different, there's no noticeable surge. Tran thinks it's because they don't have enough life force to notice a difference. Barlow thinks that maybe it's mana siphoning, and Gilroy… well, he just kind of grunted when we talked about it. He still hasn't been sleeping well, not since he watched Fisban kill more than half the group.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Verantha was worse off than Gilroy until she finally had a mental breakdown and passed out for nearly an entire day. During which time, I was not able to help with the raft-building process. Most of my tendons didn't snap without the blessing though, it would appear that even without the blessing, my body is growing more resilient as it adjusts to the enhanced strength.

One thing I did notice though, even without the blessing of Amaetha blocking her, I didn't feel Ulana's presence. I tried half-assed praying, serious praying, and even grovel praying, no sparks, not even a flicker. I'm worried that prolonged blessings from another Goddess might have severed my connection, either that or she just doesn't give a fuck about me anymore. If Ulana has abandoned me, that would leave me alone with just Red… which would suck, especially since Sage is MIA.

All in all though, I'm alive, mostly well, and in better spirits… that's what I keep telling myself… fake it until you make it. Carry the torch.

***

Four days later and I'm starting to wonder if we will ever finish the raft, each day I think we're done, Fisban has us add an additional log or binding. It's not small at this point, much larger than the nine of us need. The winds have gotten worse too. It's more than gusts now. We're all worried.

The patchy light sprinkles through the canopy, and the grit of sand cuts at my chafing skin. Fisban's called for a meeting.

"Okay, tomorrow is the day," Fisban says, looking out at the horizon with a hand over the bridge of her brow.

There are some grumbles, but it's mostly quiet. She's in charge, we all accept that. Especially since she made us bury the ones that didn't accept that.

We've been digging the large trench in front of the raft, so much so that water is starting to do our job for us. Now we just need to dig it wide enough to the shoreline and let the high tide pull us out with it. I don't know if this was always her plan, but she's pretty smart. My eyes trace the sail made from the bloodstained clothes of the fallen… she's also brutal.

***

The next morning came quickly, the labor from the day before helped me settle into a quick sleep, one I was thankful for. No dreams at all is recently always better. It's been quite a few days since Smith and the others were… neutralized. We've been here for weeks now, so many days spent dreading the nightmares. Even still, I have endured, and I don't know if the memories are getting easier to carry, or if I'm just getting more numb to them.

Six hours after dawn and the plan went off without a hitch, like fucking clockwork. Fisban and Tenny are definitely cut from the same cloth of squared-away material. She really did the best with what she had. We're less than a kilometer out from the island now, but the currents appear to get stronger over here. With no sandbars to stop them now, we're struggling to get further out.

"Keep it steady!" Fisban barks, standing with the rudimentary rudder in hand. It's better than nothing though, she turns and looks at me, lowering her voice, "What direction?"

I pull up my map, the swells of the ocean making me a little nauseous, I point in the distance, to the right of the rising sun, "There."

"I want a map update every ten minutes, minimum."

I nod. Though eventually, I'm going to need to sleep, I don't want to turn out like Verantha. Besides, the direction shouldn't change much, the sun's path is constantly the same on this world, or at least close enough that we can't tell a difference each day.

***

Minutes sank into hours and somehow stretched into days. I've lost track of how long we've been on this world. There's no end in sight. The winds have helped edge us toward the little progress that we make each day, I don't know if we will make it. Seems like the ocean current wants us to go back to the island we were on before. It's demoralizing as shit. Verantha's busy each night healing the deep and blistering burns on our bodies. The only thing that keeps us from overheating is the constant wind, and the lapping waves. Without her here, we would be screwed.

"I don't know if I can continue," one of Fisban's guys says, they call him Jericho. He mostly keeps to himself, often he can be found looking at a picture of his wife and two children. His disposition summarizes how we're all feeling.

Based on the distance, and the current rate of travel, we will die before we reach it. Yet, Fisban is not so easily deterred. She thinks this is our one shot, our one and only opportunity. She's convinced that we might hit a different ocean current soon. Admittedly I don't know much about sailing, but I do know that our makeshift raft isn't like the sailboat she grew up sailing with her family.

"You said that already, Jericho," Fisban sighs, blinking past the sweat.

We have enough food for thirty days, bundles of mango coconuts are tied in sacks on the side of the craft, acting like shoddy stabilizers since they float. Still, it keeps them cool enough, and the wildlife doesn't seem to give a shit about them.

They have sharks here, though they look strange, with armored scales instead of sandpaper hide. Horns protrude from their three-eyed skulls making for an eerie appearance. They don't appear interested in us though thankfully.

"Maybe we go back and make some paddles," Tran suggests.

"It's not open for discussion!" Fisban snaps.

Not a good look for our fearless leader. A couple weeks of this and I think the second mutiny is liable to happen. Thankfully, only me and Fisban know about the current location on the map. She told me before we left to keep it secret, for more than just keeping the secret of the quest, she was worried about morale. Which tells me that she figured we'd be having a hard time. Still, we have made progress, albeit not as much as I had hoped.

"Uh, boss lady…" Tran begins.

"Tran, shut the fuck up!" Fisban yells, pushing back the strands of her askew hair.

To be fair, he's been wearing her thin for days if not weeks, constantly trying to talk to her. Ever since he saw her go beast mode as he called it, he's been infatuated.

"Ma'am…"

"I said shut the fuck up!"

"Ma'am! It's important!" Tran yells back.

Making all of us take pause, that's the first time he's yelled at her. Honestly, he's quick to temper, but he doesn't yell often.

"What?" Fisban asks with a twitching cheek.

Tran points behind her, "That looks serious."

We all turn, eyes squinting in the distance… dark skies are approaching… it's a storm on the horizon.

"Fuck…" Fisban groans.

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