PreCursive

  Before we left to follow in the wake of the madman who was essentially kidnapping us, we took the time to gather up the Monster Cores littering the now quieted battlefield. The amount of wealth that was being revealed by the dissipating Miasma was just too much to let go to waste. Even beyond the crafting bes of the Cores themselves, if we hawked this many Oni Cores on the market ba Hinaga, we would be making a literal fortune.

  Shacklock didn’t care, so we scooped them all up into a sack held in our travel supplies. Instead, he oddly spent the time standing on the edge of the mountaintop, making what looked to be…silly faces out into the night. I swear to God, he was squishing his face together and stig out his tongue like he was trying to amuse an infant or something.

  None of us asked what he was doing, or if he had a reason for it. I’m…not sure there was one.

  Even stranger, once we had finished and the exiled Grand Marshal began to lead us further into the range, he looked over his shoulder briefly. He wasn’t looking at any of us, however. Instead, he focused on a point far off into the distance behind us and pulled down one eyelid and stuck out his tongue, wagging it from side to side.

  All of us turo follow his gaze.

  There was nothing there.

  ……………………………………..

  In the dark and the rain, the mountain ridges had bee even more treacherous than before. It was to the extent that I’m not sure how much longer any of us could take this. Initially, I had beeed to take to the skies once more, now that I was at least a little familiar with flying. But that was stupid. I would probably only get fried by a bolt from the bck, if I tried to take wing. Although we had beeermio push through the night to reach Mt. Gorenzan in time before an innd sea swallowed the bunker door, we had to give up on that. The rain was only intensifying as we headed innd.

  The prospect of safe haven, even if it would be found in the arms of the Order of Solstice’s Fme, was a tempting one.

  I was thankful that it didn’t take long for us to reach Shacklock’s destination.

  He led us to what seemed to be an ht pteau, here in the tral Goryuen range, a ft-topped stony pin that stretched out for miles. Squatting on that rock were the familiar sights of Solstice tents, that we had seen ba the beach. There were dozens and dozens of them, as well as a much rger a which the rest of them crowded around. Oddly, for all of the vas domes that dotted the ndscape, there were few soldiers visible. And it wasn’t because of the raiher.

  So many of those tents just looked dark and uninhabited.

  After we leaped down onto the pteau from a higher ridgeline, Shacklock casually sauntered up to the watch patrol on duty. All of us followed behind him warily, aware that we had little other choi the matter. Through the noise of the torrential rain, we arrived just in time to hear the madman’s versation with his underlings.

  “-strom back yet?”

  The lead soldier shook his head, his eyes trailing over my group standing behind his leader suspiciously. “No sir. Captairom’s pany has not reported back from his culling.”

  Shacklock shook his head, almost mogly. “That boy. He’s loosin’ his touch, eh?” He said, nudging anuard in the ribs. Said soldier didn’t even blink from the odd treatment.

  Guess he was used to it.

  “…as you say, sir.”

  “Well, whatever,” The madman shrugged. “I’m headin’ inside. I got me some guests I gotta gab with. Make sure I ain’t bothered.”

  The patrol saluted their leader and parted for him to stalk past. I resisted the urge to stiffen my shoulders as we did the same. I could feel the Solstice soldier’s eyes b into my back as I walked past them.

  Hell, as we followed Shacklock through the encampment, that feeling only grew. While it arsely poputed out here, it didn’t mean there was nobody. We occasionally stumbled across cook fires, strangely resilient to the deluge being teo by a handful of cssers. Their leader would receive aowledging nods, but the rest of us only got gres and glowers.

  When we reached the rger a, Shacklock barged right through the fppirance like he owhe pce-

  (Which I suppose he did).

  -and immediately started shouting.

  “Clear out, all of ya!” He bellowed into the warm, well-lit fines of the tent. The heads of a dozen or so officers crowded around the ingruously rge tral table immediately snapped up at the shout. There was a rge spread of steaming hot food around the table, the sight of which made my stomach grumble. More tha of eyes bli their leader. He glowered back at them. “You heard me! Git! Go! This is my tent, gods damnit, and I’m tellin’ ya to scram!”

  The officers scrambled to their feet and did as he bid, slipping around us to exit out into the rain and the dark. As they passed us, I couldn’t help but notice that the Lieutenant who had greeted us to these shores was among them. I exged a friendly nod with Lieutenant Salzen as he passed me.

  And then we were aloh the madman, in his owory.

  Said madman stalked his way over te wooden chair, carved almost to look like a throhe back of it resembled the massive sword that had strangely disappeared after Shacklock had dispatched aire horde of Oni. He hopped into it and leaned back, propping his feet up onto the table in front of him with a thud. “Ah…” He sighed. “Ain’t no pce like home. Well? What are you lot waitin’ for? Sit your asses down!”

  At his barked and, we warily stepped away from the entrand approached the table. There, we fous around it and slumped into them. My back thanked me as I settled into the oddly det chair, with its plush seat.

  Never oo pass up an opportunity, Azarus immediately reached for the untouched food oable. When Shacklock didn’t protest, the rest of us joined him. After all, it had been a while siny of us had an actual prepared meal. Camp fare just wasn’t the same thing.

  As I tucked into a pce of roasted fowl and brown bread, the space between my shoulders itched. Shacklock was just watg us, saying nothing.

  Suddenly, he spoke up as I was ing a bone. “Do ya like my table?”

  The sound of eating slowed, as all of us blinked in fusion from the odd question. Liora was the oo break the silence. “Ah…yes, the food is-”

  She was interrupted by the old man waving a hand dismissively. “Ain’t talkin’ about the grub. I meant the table itself.”

  I looked down at the ft top of the thick wooden table then, aware of everyone else’s head doing the same around me. But not, strangely, Venix. The Antium had aken his eyes off of Shacklock, iire time we’d been in his presence. I couldn’t help but notice that his lower two arms were below the table, as his upper two teo his pte.

  “Ah…it’s okay, I guess?” Renauld said uainly. “It’s very…tabley.”

  Suddenly, Shacklock lunged forward in his chair to sm his open palms down oable. The resulting sound was loud enough that I’m sure the entire camp heard it. “Okay?! Tabley?!” He spit furiously. “This is a godsdamned masterwork of carpentry and spatial enting! I spent a carkin’ decade makin’ this thing! You have any idea how hard it was to make a folding table this rge that shrinks down to the size of a flippin’ matchbook?! It ain’t easy!”

  I blinked slowly at the tirade, before iing the apparently ented table more closely. This time, with my Aetherial sense.

  Ah…yeah. I…suppose that was an entment. I wasn’t too familiar with spatial enting, although I’d seen it before. There were thick braids of potent Ki flowing through des of impossibly tiny runes, all through the apparent ‘masterwork table’.

  But for all of the work that must have goo the table, it was still very pihetically.

  It just looked like a damn table.

  What…was the point of all this?

  …was there a point?

  At the very least, I…suppose that expined how they had this huge hunk of wood sitting in the middle of a mobile camp.

  Under everyone’s bined baffled stare, Shacklock’s aged features screwed up in disgust. “Bah. My genius is wasted on you infants.”

  Alright, enough of this.

  I leaned forward, drawing Shacklock’s attention. “Why are we here? What was so important that you basically kidnapped us?”

  The madman’s eyes slid my way, and he sidered me for a moment. “Grey’s little toy,” He mused, ign my question. “Well, aside from his tin men and women. I was wonderin’ what you lot were here for, but I think I’ve figured it out. I saw somethin’ mighty iin’, wat’ yht with the horners. Those fmes I saw ya use…I read a book that talked about ‘em, once, years and years and years ago.”

  My lips twitched downwards, a I was unsurprised. Sometimes it felt like I was never able to hold onto the ‘secret’ of my ins for long. It was to the point that it barely felt like o all, and was instead just something I didn’t go around advertising. “Say what you mean, Shacklock,” I said bluntly.

  A brief red spark fred in the old monster’s eyes for a moment, before fading. “You’re after the door, ain’tcha, Precursor?”

  I saw Kazuma start out of the er of my eye and turn to stare at me, but he was the only one who reacted to the words. I suppose it wasn’t too surprising that an educated nobleman like Kazuma would know what that was.

  “Y’see, I heard a story from a little birdy,” Shacklock started casually. “It were about an old curiosity of Grey’s ba his even older stompin’ grounds. Out in Hollow Hill, there was this door That Fucker was obsessed with for years on years. Only, he weren’t ever able to get it open. He huffed and he puffed and he slung spells at it that would topple castles. But it never budged. That was until his pet id a hand on it some six months past. And then it opened right up. Me oh my, now that’s iin’.”

  Venix shifted in his chair, and I saw the muscles in his lower biceps tense. I had a good idea about what he was gripping, uhe table. Shacklock did too, but judging by the mog tilt to his lips, he didn’t seem to care a whit.

  “I was busy at the time, but I still wondered. What had that fet sack of shit dug up out in the Principality, which did what he could not? I know now, and I’m thinkin’ you’re here for the same thing. The big shiny door that my scouts have told me stands right out on the mountainside.”

  I scowled now, and not just because an ht madman had figured out oal. While I had grown some doubts about Grey during my time away from him, I still cared for the man. I didn’t appreciate hearing my mentor talked about in that way. “What business is it of yours?” I asked sharply.

  That was a mistake.

  The red glow returo Shacklock’s beady bck eyes, and a terrifyiion stole over me.

  Or rather, my outer ring.

  From one instant to the , my sanity died. That…that was the only way I could really describe it. It was like all reasohe outerm of that defined who I was. The world ceased to make sense, simple cepts like light, and dire, and temperature became meaningless. assed for thoughts in the shell my outer ring had bee did not proceed naturally, from oo the in a familiar, linear, sane manner.

  And it drove that mind mad.

  It wae at the world that had suddenly bee so terrifying, where nothing made seo it. It wao take the pte it had suddenly beeing and simultaneously smash it against the face of Bel to my right, and also eat it, and alsraven images into our flesh with those shards and on and on and on with everything around us.

  It was only thanks to the rock-solid, protected nature of my c I didn’t desd fully into that madness. My panions and friends, I think, weren’t quite so protected. They all started to stand rowl or worse…

  Until the sensation vanished.

  Shacklock had only pulsed that effect for an instant, and that instant had nearly been enough to destroy all of us.

  I was beyond shaken by the experiend judging by the looks on my panion's faces, they were too. Because I reized that for what it was. The expression of it was different from anything I had seen to this point, but I reized the base sensation.

  That had been Shacklock’s Mantle.

  Simply by unfurling it, he could drive anyone he wanted mad.

  Insane.

  Helpless to the world.

  I drew in a shaking breath.

  So.

  That was why they called him the Madman. Not because of his erratic behavior.

  Because of what he could do to others. That…that must have been how he had drawn all of the Oni to him earlier.

  Said madman leaned forward. “Ye ask what business it is of miriplin’?” He hissed. “Everythin’ Grey does is my business. Outsider, you were not born in this nd, and so ya don’t know. But my life, every st sed of every st hour of every st day of every st month of every st year of every st decade of every st TURY!” He bellowed, standing up from his chair. “Has been about that man! I fouhis gods forsaken Order to oppose that him, when he made his own! I sought strength and years so I could live long enough to piss on all he’s wrought, when he did the same! I didn’t give a rat’s fug arse about King and try, in that stupid damned war or any other! All I cared about was that he was on one side, so I had to be oher! All for the ce, the CE!” He said, holding two fiogether closely. “That I might get to murder him! Oh…oh how I longed for that. Ya ’t even begin to uand how much I do, you uppity little maggot.”

  That…that was…

  “Insane,” I whispered, staring at Shacklock. “That’s insane. What could possibly drive ao that level of vea? For literal turies?”

  Shacklock smiled mogly at me. “What, ya ask? Why, it’s simple.”

  “He were my brother.”