133. Light the Way

[Designation: MATCHSTICK]

[Instrument Class: ZEALOUS]

[Anchored Realm: PRETJORD (+1)]

[Item Description: Darkness is its own kind of solitude, and solitude its own kind of darkness. We've all been there. Some succumb to the solitude, wallowing and languishing until there's naught to separate them from the darkness. Others claw their way out, bent but never broken. When there's no hand to pull you from the abyss, and no beacon to cut through the night, then what choice do you have but to be your own light? When you think you might lose your Path, find and rekindle that fire inside—strike the match and light the way.]

***

At first, Serac didn't believe it.

The signs had been there, ever since a week ago when she and Zacko had examined the aftermath of his escape. Now, living and Pathsighted proof stood before her in the form of a skinny, shadowy figure, and still, Serac couldn't believe it. That was, until she heard him speak.

"Miss Serac? Mister Zacko?"

Yes. That nervous energy and aw-shucks humility. It was Petter Svensen, alright, and far more convincing than any [Designation] assigned by a higher power. The man who stood before Serac might be Pretjord's newest Wayfarer, but he was still her mackerel friend.

Too choked up to speak, she pulled him in for a wordless embrace. Petter hesitated for a second before giving her an awkward pat on the back. Zacko stepped close and clapped the mackerel man on the shoulder, with enough force behind it to shake the both of them.

Serac then held Petter at arm's length and looked him up and down. Her chest filled with an emotion at once novel and nostalgic—knots of crippling anxiety teased apart by warm, glowing pride. Where had she felt this before? Perhaps in another life, and perhaps from the other side of a mirror.

"Why didn't you come to us sooner?" were her first words, once she'd found her voice. "A whole week! We were worried sick, you know!"

"Y—you were?" Petter was, evidently, still Petter. But also not quite, for he quickly composed himself to say, "Of course you were. Thank you, and I'm sorry. I didn't want to risk compromising any of us before I had concrete information to share. And as of last night, I believe I have it."

There were so many things Serac wanted to say or ask that, at the moment, she was slow to catch Petter's drift. Zacko did the drift-catching for both of them, however, as he chimed in:

"That's what you've been up to for the whole week? Been doing some detective work on your own, have you?"

Petter nodded solemnly. The 'change' to his usual demeanor became more and more pronounced.

"How much do you know?" He answered with a probe of his own. "Now that you're Kronvakt, I imagine you have almost free rein to explore the palace?"

"Yes, but that almost is killer!" Serac calmed herself enough to contribute. "We've been able to narrow our search down to the Apical Bough, but that's where we're stuck."

Petter nodded again, looking as though he'd anticipated Serac's every word.

"And you'd be right about that, Miss," he spoke with a quiet confidence that he normally reserved for the kitchen. "For one thing, they're keeping Ms Inge and Munkfred inside the royal chambers. I saw them with my own eyes. As for Miss Fin—Renate, I've good reason to believe the same, though her situation is a little… trickier."

"Wait, you went inside the royal chambers? But how?" This from Zacko.

"Wait, you saw Inge and Munkfred? How are they? Are they being treated okay?" This from Serac, at nearly the same time.

For one moment, the nervous aw-shucks version of Petter reappeared, as he looked between the outrealmer pair with indecision. But he recovered his confidence quickly enough, choosing to give both of them equal attention.

"Not quite, Mister. It's more accurate to say I went around the royal chambers, taking a peek inside whenever I could. And I reckon they are, Miss. At least from what I saw, Ms Inge was treated like a guest of honor, so much so she even ate at the same table as the royal family. I think she's safe for now, as long as… as long as Miss Renate remains under the Queen's thumb."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"So, your powers are suited for reconnaissance work, are they? Something to do with walls and making holes in them, or…?" This from Zacko.

"So, you've spotted Inge but not Renate, is that right? But you got a lead on where she might be, or…?" And again from Serac, again at the same time.

Petter had heard enough. He shook his head firmly and placed his hands on each of Serac's and Zacko's shoulders—with a quiet boldness he'd never shown anywhere.

"I'm sure you both have many questions, and I'd love to answer them all. But it's not safe to do it here, where the Kronvakt could walk in on us at any minute. I know a place that's out of the way and always deserted. If you could meet me there later today, I'll share with you everything I know. And perhaps you could share with me what you know about Miss Renate and why the Queen seems to have it out for her." He then tightened his grip on their shoulders as he added, "After that, we can start working on the next phase of our plan."

Serac met this with a wide-eyed grin, caught halfway between shock and pride. By rights, Petter should've known nothing of the outrealmers' 'plan' to free their friends, but he'd just proven that he was already on the same—nay, ahead of them by several pages.

Serac was shocked (how could she not be?), but she realized she wasn't surprised. Because Petter always had it in him. He just had to believe in himself as much as she and Zacko did.

"Right on, Petey," she said, voice slightly hoarse. "But first, do you reckon I have time to do a bit of [Harvesting] here? I've just about completed my collection of Calmspawn ingredients, and the only one I'm missing is the Rumpetroll. Or Rumpejette, if I can swing it."

Petter looked at her quizzically, which was fair enough. Serac explained, in as few words as she could manage, her own new 'power' and her reasons for visiting this dingy cave on this fine morning.

"So yeah," she concluded, "maybe I'm being a hypocrite, but combining the Rumpetrolls into a Rumpejette is my way of circumventing my own one-smite-per-species rule. Only problem is, these Tamped cubes are so spread out. Have you been much deeper into the cave? Do you know if there's a cluster of them anywhere?"

Petter didn't answer right away. He stood stock-still, giving no indication he'd heard Serac's query, but his eyes gleamed with a faint, ghostly blue—the tell-tale sign of a Wayfarer scanning for Pathsighted information.

"Right," he murmured, almost to himself, "I think I've got enough resources on hand to help you with that problem, Miss Serac. Can you show me where these individual cubes are?"

Serac was only too eager to oblige. She was always curious to learn about her fellow Wayfarers—doubly so when that Wayfarer happened to be a dear friend, newly transmuted.

Over the next several minutes, she and Zacko retraced their steps, stopping only to point out the Tamped Rumpetrolls on the ground. The first time she did so, Petter pulled out his trusty salt-and-pepper shaker—the one he never went anywhere without. Only this time, as he shook out the contents, it left a trail of fine crystals that gave off a creamy orange sheen—the same color as a Wayfarer's [Satiety] gauge.

"Ohh," Serac exclaimed, instantly giddy with anticipation, "so this must be your new SHAKER! What's it do?"

Petter opened his mouth to explain, but then seemed to change his mind. He instead said, "If it's alright with you, Miss, let's just see if it works first."

A little of the nervousness had crept back. Serac didn't press the issue, instead resuming her assigned task as navigator. By the time she led Petter all the way back to the very first cube she saw, a looong trail of creamy-orange powder connected all the Tamped Rumpetrolls in one, continuous line.

"Okay," Petter said, apparently to himself, "here goes nothing."

A flick of the wrist, together with a snap of the fingers. Next thing Serac knew, the cave had a new light source, in the form of a single matchstick in Petter's hand—one that shone bright with roiling green flame.

[MATCHSTICK Spell: HEAT SINK]

Serac let out an involuntary shudder, not out of fear or disgust, but simply because she was cold. The air suddenly took on a palpable chill, one that penetrated even Serac's [Abyssal Plate] and the fabric underneath. It was as if all the warmth had been sucked out of the cave at once.

No, not quite. More accurately, the warmth had been sucked in—into the Zealous Instrument in Petter's hand.

MATCHSTICK's green fire burned fiercer and brighter, even as SHAKER's powder reacted in synchronicity. The creamy-orange trail shrank in on itself, thereby pulling closer everything on its path—everything, of course, including the Tamped Rumpetroll cubes.

Serac watched on in amazement—at least while she could. For this instance of thermal contraction picked up more speed as it went on, until the last several yards of the SHAKER trail collapsed in a blur of dirt-brown and creamy-orange.

CRUNCH!

Just for one Ksana, Serac caught sight of at least a dozen cubes pressed together to form a shapeless mass. Then that mass exploded into its Untamped form: a blobby, writhing, and rather 'angry'-looking Rumpejette that instantly filled the cave passage with its giant frame.

"I can't believe that worked!" Petter admitted in a high-pitched yelp, sounding very much like his old self. But he quickly collected himself to add, "I'm sorry, Miss and Mister, but I won't be much help from here. I'll need a bit of time to recover!"

Serac understood. MATCHSTICK's green flames had fizzled out, leaving the cave short of one light source while also restoring the ambient temperature. Whatever resource had powered Petter Svensen's magic had run out after just the one showcase—but no need to judge a KL-1 Wayfarer too harshly…

"All good, Petey!" Serac enthused, smiling broadly. "Let me and Zacko take it from here!"

And as Serac set to doing what she did best, her chest filled with an emotion at once novel and nostalgic—warm, glowing pride that thermally expanded into a wave of energy. This time, she recognized the feeling for what it was, not in a mirror nor from a previous life, but by making sense of the here and now.

She was inspired by Petter—perhaps just as Petter had once been inspired by her. A hand to grab onto. A beacon to cut through the darkness. Let one soul light the way for another… so they may both walk a little further.

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