“I’m like you?” Micro asked, and his eyes lit up as a thought flashed through his mind. “Are you also a truck?!”
“What?” the boy said with a frown, but he shrugged and began to wipe the snow off of Micro’s head and shoulders. “Is that another language? They must have hauled you in from somewhere really far away, huh?”
“My world really is far away…” Micro replied.
“But the word you’re looking for is ‘slave’, just so you know,” the boy continued. “You must be new to all of this magic stuff. If your owner is busy with something, just stick with me until they wrap up the ceremony, and I’ll try to keep you out of trouble.”
“I was actually in the middle of something,” Micro replied, pointing down to the metallic statues on the ground. “I’m supposed to be doing something about all these things.”
“Oh, sorry about that, little buddy,” the boy said with a gentle laugh. Micro noted that the boy was a little shorter than himself, and maybe a year or two older than Kira, but he spoke with the maturity of someone much older. “What were your orders? I just finished clearing some rocks away from the main circle over there, so I can help you out if you’d like.”
“Thanks, little buddy,” Micro replied. “I have to—”
“Hey, I’m nobody’s little buddy,” the boy asserted, poking Micro’s chest with a surprisingly strong finger. “You can call me Pitcher, or you can call me Boss.”
“Pitcher?”
“Yeah, and you?”
“You can call me Micro,” Micro replied, only wondering after he had spoken if he should have kept that information to himself. “Well, you don’t have to call me that. I haven’t heard a name like yours before.”
“Someone said I was about the size of a pitcher of wine when I was born,” the boy explained with a proud smile. “My mother’s master thought that was funny, so now that’s my name. Micro is a pretty funny name too though… Huh, that’s almost annoyingly funny.”
“Her master? Is she a cultivator?” Micro asked the boy.
“Did you find a wild mushroom to snack on under all this snow?” Pitcher said incredulously. “She was a slave. My family is nothing but slaves, going back a long time. We’re from the capital way over to the west of here. You ever been?”
“Since I got here, I’ve only been to a few towns along the road south of here, and a few sects,” Micro replied. He was about to continue his hunt for another statue to disturb when a chunk of debris was sent flying in the boys’ direction by a large energy attack of Vale’s. Micro shielded Pitcher with his arm as several rocks and twigs tore the bark right off the trees around them. Micro’s arm was fine, but his robe now had several new holes in it. “That could put someone’s eye out...”
“Such a weird ceremony, huh?” Pitcher said as he peeked around Micro’s arm at the ongoing battle. “We’ve never had somebody dressed up like a cultivator calling the shots on a summoning before. My master was a little suspicious of it, but the holy power definitely is flowing.”
“Holy power?” Micro asked.
“You know, the stuff that makes your eyes red if you look at it too close up,” Pitcher answered, pointing to his eye again. “That’s what Nora gives us to fight cultivators. It drives them crazy, or so I’ve heard.”
“It really does,” Micro replied with an awkward laugh. “Anyways, I need to do something to all these statues.”
“Sounds good,” Pitcher said with a nod. “I was getting bored waiting for that Vale fellow to blow up the other guy. I think he said it was his brother? Or was it his cousin…? Oh well, none of my business.”
“It’s probably best you didn’t get involved with them…” Micro agreed. “Cultivators can be difficult to get along with.”
~
Micro continued from tree to tree with his new friend without any issues. The few times another magician asked them what they were doing, Pitcher didn’t hesitate to greet them and explain that they were only carrying out their assigned duties. Micro was frequently impressed with how politely Pitcher was able to speak with the older magicians, despite his casual manner of speaking in private. Micro didn’t think it would be a good idea to show Pitcher his Storage Skill in action, so one by one he simply picked the statues up, allowed their chaos energy to flow through him until it had been consumed by the dog within his core, and then place them back down as they were.
“Are they all looking right so far?” Pitcher asked around the time Micro had finished pretending to inspect about thirty of the statues. “Apparently those things are important for ‘keeping the doorway to the heavens stable while the blessed one chosen by Nora travels here’ or whatever that means.”
“Yes, they are all very well made,” Micro replied, still struggling to get used to the nauseous feeling that always accompanied chaos energy. “I was speaking with the person who made these recently. She really takes pride in her work.”
“Is she one of us?” Pitcher asked.
“No, she doesn’t like to get involved in anything like this. She just makes things, and she takes good care of her family.” Micro smiled as he recalled the fine house which Ember had come to live in with her family, as well as the warm faces of her parents and her little sister. “I hope nothing happens to them, with all the fighting going on around here.”
“You must be from really, really far away if you still have time to worry about some random blacksmith in some tiny village in the middle of nowhere,” Pitcher said with a worried glance. “Who do you think they’ll sacrifice if they don’t find that pixie that just escaped, huh?”
“What did you say?!” Micro gasped.
“I know, right?” Pitcher shrugged. “Those things are slippery little troublemakers, but you’d think the nobles would know what they’re doing by know, wouldn’t you? And who is it that gets the beating when they lose one of them for the hundredth time? I’d be happy never to see one of those shiny little things again, not that I’ll have to worry about that if we’re all getting sacrificed today.”
“Wait, you said we could be sacrificed?” Micro gasped again, causing Pitcher to look down at him with a look of pity. “But you—I mean, we are magicians! Why would they sacrifice us?!”
“Listen here, little buddy,” Pitcher whispered, and put his hand gently on Micro’s shoulder. “You and me are slaves, not magicians. All those rich folks running around with last names are in charge of making the world a better place, but you and me are just coals on the fire, my naive young friend.”
“You’re not fuel,” Micro replied with a frown. He stood up and looked at Pitcher, struggling not to raise his voice. “You have two legs and a driver—I mean a brain. Right, two legs and a brain! You can go wherever you want.”
“You really are new to all this. Didn’t you get a holy marking?” Pitcher asked with narrow eyes. He then pulled his sleeve back and revealed a strange tattoo on his arm, similar to the sigils which the magicians used in summoning rituals. It was also similarly filled with chaos energy. “Maybe they forgot to mark you. Lucky you… It hurts like a—”
“What is that?” Micro asked, pointing at the mark on Pitcher’s arm.
“This is one of the spells they use to control people,” Pitcher replied. “If I try to run, it explodes. I’ve seen it happen, and I don’t care to see it again if I can help it. That’s something you really only need to see once for it to sink in.”
“Th—that is—” Micro began to stutter as an angry aura leaked out of his core. “No, that’s not very safe at all…!”
“Well obviously, but who cares?” Pitcher shrugged. “Even without this stupid thing, I’d be captured in a day or less. Where would I even run to?”
“The destination is always up to the driver,” Micro said, suddenly grabbing Pitcher’s arm with enough strength to make the boy winced with pain. Pitcher tried to pull away, but he was scared by how firm Micro’s grip on his arm was. “And there’s always a road that leads home.”
“Wha—wha—what are you doing?” Pitcher stuttered as Micro’s aura grew to surround him. His knees buckled as the air grew heavy and robbed him of his breath.
“And if you need a safe ride there,” Micro continued as he began to absorb the chaos energy in Pitcher’s arm, grimacing as it made its way into his core before being devoured by his hungry passenger. “I’m happy to be of assistance.”
~
“Oh, hello there, Kira,” Micro called out happily to the hooded girl who suddenly appeared before him. Behind her quickly followed Kolt, and a grumpy looking Arbur. “How did things go on your end?”
“We scratched out a few hundred smaller sigils in trees, and there were a few rocks with sigils painted on them we threw into the woods,” Kira reported. “But, Master Micro, may I ask who the confused young man behind you is?”
“Oh, this is Pitcher.” Micro placed his hand on Pitcher’s back and gently pushed him forward.
“He is an ally?” Kira asked with a respectful tone, though Kolt and Arbur looked at the boy with a combination of fear and disgust. “I do not question your choice of comrade, perhaps with the exception of my brother, but are you certain this person can be trusted?”
“Hey you little—” Kolt blurted out, but Arbur quickly reached out to pull him back. “Stupid sister...”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
“I’m… free?” Pitcher mumbled, running his small hands over his arm in search of the marking which had been there less than an hour before. “Where did it… How did you...?”
“Pitcher is really nice,” Micro reassured Kira. “He helped me deal with all the little statues Ember made. I’m pretty sure that they won’t work properly anymore, but they’re still very nice statues.”
“I what?” Pitcher said with a blank look. “You weren’t inspecting them? But if you—”
“Just stay safe until we deal with Vale, and then we’ll make sure the summoning doesn’t happen,” Micro reassured the stuttering boy. “If you’d like, we can help find you a safe destination.”
“I don’t understand…” Pitcher whispered. “If my owner... Sir Chatren is a cruel man… If he finds out, we’ll be—”
“I’ve heard people with last names can be mean, but I wouldn’t worry about that while you’re with us,” Micro said with a kind smile. “We’re actually quite strong—”
CRASH
Their conversation was interrupted when Vale crashed through several small pine trees several paces ahead of them, throwing up a cloud of splinters and snow. However, Kel remained still at the centre of the clearing, waiting for Vale to return to the fight.
“You cursed son of an unworthy line…!” Vale growled as he brought himself to his feet, wiped the blood and dirt from his face, then marched back to the centre of the clearing. “You think you can defeat me with your antiquated tactics, you moss-covered relic?! Your antics belong in the archives, with the rest of our pathetic sect’s history!”
“I cannot believe that you truly hold your home in such contempt, old friend,” Kel said with a sad expression. “We shared that home for many happy years, did we not?”
“Our home is a beacon of weakness for all who would deign to look in its direction!” Vale spat a chunk of blood at the snow as he slowly approached Kel, then he shocked his second cousin by casting aside his shield and drawing the sword at his waist. “It is the time for change, Kel!”
“No, that—” Kel muttered in shock. “What have you done?”
“You may have changed a little since you met that hero of yours, but you failed to take an earnest step down that new path!” Vale declared as he held the sword up high. Unlike the rusty swords most of Kel’s comrades wore, Micro was surprised by how shiny and sharp it looked, even from a distance. “I will show you the true power of change!”
“You have abandoned to path of our forefathers completely…” Kel lamented, nearly falling to his knees as he reeled from the shock of Vale’s words. However, he began to unleash the energy he had been holding back for the duration of the fight, and an angry burst of his energy filled the clearing. “You have forsaken the ways of our sect…!”
“Blessed servants of the goddess of light!” Vale suddenly shouted to the surrounding magicians, waving his sword to catch their attention. They ceased their work and looked tentatively at Vale as Kel’s aura began to affect their ability to move. “We can wait no longer, for the enemy is at our doorstep!”
“But the ritual is incomplete, Master Vale!” an old man called back. “The sacred markings have been completed, but the array needs more time to accumulate holy power! The doorway to heaven will be unstable, and the extra sacrifice has—”
“I am the only one who speaks for Nora in this place!” Vale barked back at the man, while Kel watched the conversation in horror. “Proceed with the ceremony, or you will be the first sacrifice!”
The old man seemed to forget his concern for the ceremony’s integrity after receiving Vale’s threat, and he immediately began chant a strange prayer in a language Micro couldn’t understand. Before Micro or his friends could do anything else to disrupt the ceremony, chaos energy began to swirl around the forest, forming a barrier around the clearing.
“Well, let’s hope we did enough to stop it from working,” Micro said, though he and his friends were already being affected by the chaos energy. He had the benefit of a hungry dog in his core to help remove the unpleasant foreign energy, but Kira, Kolt, and Arbur were now kneeling beside a tree trying not to throw up.
“What’s wrong with them?” Pitcher asked. “Usually holy power only harms cultivators… Wait, could you be—”
“That’s right,” Micro said with a smile. He pulled his hood down and stretched his neck as he overcame the dizziness he’d been feeling. “I am Micro, Driver of the Truck Sect!”
“What kind of sick joke is—” Pitcher began to shout in surprise, but his attention was then drawn to the centre of the clearing. Pitcher’s confusion was shared by dozens of magicians who had been singing songs of praise moments ago. “Wait, this is weird. Something is going very wrong”
“It looks like our plan worked,” Micro said with a sigh of relief. “I was worried we would have to fight all the magicians to stop the summoning, but messing with the statues and marking seems to have been enough!”
“Wait, you were sabotaging the ceremony?” Pitcher gasped. “Was it you who stole the pixie too?!”
“Speak of the devil,” Micro said happily as a familiar blue glow caught his eye. It was soon followed by a yellow light, but Micro was surprised when yet another light popped into view above him. “Oh, there’s a green one now?”
“Did you miss me?” Blue called down as she hovered gracefully in the air above Pitcher. “This little rascal was above to go poof, and it took a bit of work to get her out of that cage with all the chaos energy flying around here.”
“I’m glad you’re all safe!” Micro replied, taking a moment to analyze the little green pixie hovering between the proud Blue and the grumpy Trill. “What’s your name?”
“She doesn’t have one yet,” Blue answered as the green pixie shrieked and hid behind her. She laughed as the timid creature struggled to fly while holding on tightly to Blue. “She’s brand new. I can’t imagine where she came from, but the magicians must’ve had an easy time catching her!”
“So, I guess things are pretty much settled,” Micro said, clapping his hands in satisfaction. “We’ll just wait for the summoning to fail, then we can grab Vale and head back to the sect for dinner.”
“It does seem like something isn’t working right, now that you mention it,” Blue replied, looking around at the panicking magicians, then gestured to Vale. “But that wimp over there still seems pretty happy with himself.”
“Oh, Kel doesn’t look so good,” Micro mentioned when he noticed Kel had fallen to his knees nearby, obviously affected by the chaos energy. “I wonder why Vale is still fine.”
“Don’t you know what he’s holding?!” Pitcher suddenly shouted at Micro. “You have no idea what’s going on here!”
“That wouldn’t be a first for me,” Micro replied with a wry laugh. “Won’t the ceremony just end without a soul being summoned? We damaged the array enough that it shouldn’t be functional anymore.”
“You really didn’t think this through…” Pitcher said with a distant look. He brought his hands to his face as he shook his head. “All this array does is open a door. Nora herself does everything else.”
“Wait, what?” Blue spoke up with a concerned tone. “Wasn’t all the magical writing some sort of spell to make things happen?”
“I thought it worked like a machine,” Micro added.
“No, little buddy…” Pitcher continued with a heavy tone. He looked back up at Micro, his eyes filled with despair. “Different magic circles open different sized doors… The prayers of the high priest are what set the terms of the contract between our world and the heavens. Nora reaches through the doorway that is opened, creates a hero’s vessel using the power of whatever sacrifice she can reach, and then she sends the hero’s spirit to us.”
“Oh.” Micro blinked once in confusion.
“All you’ve done is made the doorway unstable,” Pitcher continued. “Nora will still be able to create a vessel, but the soul…”
“The soul?” Micro repeated.
“It might not arrive at all…” Pitcher said with a hushed tone, a fearful look growing on his face. “I’ve seen it before... When an empty vessel is left alone for too long, you have no idea what can enter it instead! The last one we summoned received the promised soul from Nora, and even that one went a little crazy the second it opened its eyes...”
“Oh dear,” Micro said, and then he turned around to confirm what was happening at the centre of the swirling storm of chaos energy. Although it seemed to be less violent than the previous summoning he had been caught up in, it was still clearly functioning. Energy was being drawn out of the people nearest to the centre, as well as from the energy-rich ground beneath them. “But then what is Vale so happy about?”
“He has something he shouldn’t,” Pitcher said slowly. “That sword is meant for a certain type of hero…”
“Vale definitely isn’t a hero,” Blue said with a laugh, but her cheerful tone did nothing to alleviate the ominous feeling hanging over the party. “It’s just a sword, isn’t it?”
“You don’t know what that sword is called?!” Pitcher shouted. “They call that a Soul Taker! That’s the kind of weapon meant for a berserker! It’s not meant for an ordinary hero like this array is built for, but why would that guy over there have it at all?!”
“Soul Taker, huh…?” Micro repeated with a frown. “I don’t like the sound of that…”
“It’s like a hole in the air,” Blue added while observing the sword with her glowing eyes. “It keeps eating up all the energy around it.”
“It grants a berserker the power of its enemies…” Pitcher said. “If it cuts you, every bit of life in you gets gobbled up by the Soul Taker. I’ve only heard of them from other slaves, but I’m sure that’s what it is.”
“Oh, that sounds—” Micro began, but Vale’s voice once again filled the clearing.
“Look and despair, all who have made me their enemy!” Vale shouted, still wielding the sword at the sky. “There is no rival to my wisdom, and soon there will be no match to my power!”
“He seems to know what he’s doing,” Micro noted, then began walking toward him. “I’ll see if I can deal with this myself—”
“You!” Vale shouted, suddenly turning to face Micro. “What excellent timing you have, you pathetic creature!”
“I think we should get back to the sect now, Vale,” Micro replied as the energy swirling around them began to gather at the centre of the clearing next to Vale. “Your family is worried about you. You’ve had a nice fight with Kel, so let’s get you home in time for dinner, shall we?”
“Oh, I will certainly be sating my hunger very shortly,” Vale said with an eerie look of excitement on his face. He looked to his side, where the shape of a hero’s vessel had begun to manifest in the centre of the storm of energy. He then turned back to Micro, and held his sword out in front of him with a smile. “You would not believe how long I searched for a weapon like this. To think, those silly mundane cultists could produce a weapon so worthy of my grasp!”
“If you’re planning on using that to hurt somebody, I’m afraid I’m going to have to stop you now,” Micro replied sadly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re doing something very dangerous.”
“I will enjoy killing you first!” Vale declared as he plunged the tip of his sword into the hero’s vessel beside him. “I will make that mysterious power of yours mine!”
“Hey, stop that—” Micro tried to prevent whatever Vale was planning, but the vessel began pouring out an oppressive aura that made it impossible for Micro to channel his energy into an attack. He braced himself as he looked on with confusion.
“These mundane fools were so quick to trust me when I told them I was sent by their insufferable deity to assist in their plans, whatever they are!” Vale laughed loudly as the energy of the vessel began travelling through Vale sword and into his own body, coating him with a chaos-filled aura that burned like the flame of a welder’s torch. As his eyes began to glow with the strange light of chaos energy, he looked at Micro and smiled. “I have you to thank, in a way! While seeking out a means for your destruction, following rumours of magicians and heroes, I stumbled upon a cave filled with those miserable mundane freaks, and the last one I killed was more than happy to explain the ritual to me in gruesome detail!”
“So you stole the manual for this array from a prophet?” Micro asked as his Immortality Trait finally started to compensate for the instability of the energy around him. He stood up straight and looked back at Vale with only his left eye open. Sure enough, though he was blind to the world around him, the chaos energy flowing through Vale made him shine like an ominous light in the infinite darkness. “And you plan on using all this energy to get stronger?”
“Cultivators fear this power, calling it chaos, but it truly is a blessing from the heavens!” Vale answered as he finished absorbing the energy of the hero’s vessel. As the barrier created by the array began to fade and the air grew calm, he lifted his sword and coated it with chaos energy. “Whatever silly god saw fit to send this power to our realm, I will accept it with open arms! And with this power in my hands, I will make you, and everyone else who ever dared to oppose me, beg for my mercy!”
The magicians who had been cowering in fear moments ago as the summoning ritual seemed to be going out of control began to emerge from the places they were hiding. Some wore faces of fear and confusion, while others began singing songs of praise at the sight of Vale coated with what they called a holy power. Micro’s comrades began to regain their composure as the chaos energy left their bodies, and they were surprised to find Micro already drawing energy from the ground with his Mycelial Art to charge a Spirit Wave attack.
“Okay, I think I get it,” Micro eventually replied to Vale, though much of what Vale had said still confused him. “I’m definitely going to have to put some effort into this fight.”
There's always room for more passengers on this roadtrip!