Fate Deals the Cards: Part 2: The Hermit

  Ch 6 Bad To The Bone

  I stood in that starlit clearing for a while, contemplating the offer I’d received. The idea of wandering alone in the wilderness had little appeal, but likewise, the fellow was deeply uncanny and seemed shady as hell.

  He seemed to somehow blend both trustworthiness and shiftiness at once… Along with an aura of dreadful, chilling power that shuddered through me when I had been held in that invisible, irresistible grip. This being was telling me the truth, as much as he said of it… but was not what he seemed to be, not at all.

  “Call me Necro… if that helps.” He shrugged his shoulders and grimaced slightly; an expression I felt very familiar with, from my own mannerisms.

  “To friends and enemies, I am known as ‘The Necromancer’ or any number of similar titles. It's a little over the top, I know, but I didn’t choose it. That was the name I had before I met the Magician and joined his deck of jokers and knaves as ‘The Chariot’...”

  He sighed long and slow, something I wished I could do, but alas, I possessed no lungs.

  I had some weird accordion thing on my lower thorax that I could pump like a bellows when I needed more oxygen, but it was not capable of much else and made no sound at all, sadly.

  “Consider my offer for a few days and consult with my friend Klevin… He is wise in matters of isekai life and what you will need to learn. The dwarf can guide you far better than I, when it comes to matters of the living.” The man wearing an older, pale and gaunt version of my human form said calmly, before he vanished entirely from my sight in an instant.

  A vast rush of wind and a soft rattle sounded from the cliffside above my clearing, as if some monstrous bird made of leather and dry bones were taking flight above me. In the dim starlight, nothing could be seen, though I felt a rush of air across my sensitive leg tufts. I couldn’t escape the thought that the breeze I felt truly was stirred by beating wings of terrifying size.

  “The Chariot is a dangerous and unpredictable creature. He is a being of great power… one who’s goals and motives are occult to me.” My mantis lady friend whispered from a nearby hickory tree, startling another clot of tangled web from me.

  “I did not intend to reveal my eavesdropping, but I am certain he detected my presence.” She murmured, sounding not even a little embarrassed.

  “You were there the whole time?” I asked weakly, a little upset, but deeply glad that I at least had someone nearby, even sneaky, snooping company.

  “Oh yes, I have been hiding there for many hours awaiting the Necromancer’s arrival. Only a very great fool would attempt to approach that one by stealth.” She rattled a short and nervous chuckle; a forced and pathetic thing that revealed how deeply she had been unnerved by the odd being.

  “He’s a dangerous dude?” I sensed that already, but some confirmation felt necessary.

  “He is extraordinarily dangerous and deeply alien… There are some who believe that he is himself undead… Though it is known that the undead cannot travel the void and he certainly does.” She muttered thoughtfully.

  “Undead, like a zombie?” I demanded, my mind was already struggling with the ‘magic I was finding in my own silk… The idea that I’d just met with zombie me was a lot to take; on top of an already heaping helping of weirdness.

  “No, not a zombie… There are some theories, but few are in any way…” She coughed and cleared her throat; which in her case meant a fluttery rearrangement of her wings and wing covers.

  The gesture accurately conveyed her desire to change the subject, both politely and urgently.

  “He cannot be undead, though I doubt that we have any understanding of what he is. Be frank with master Klevin… He knows more of the Tarots and their doings than any outside their ranks.”

  “The Tarots… Tell me about them, please.” I rasped, sinking down in the short grasses of the field in exhaustion.

  “They are a secretive organization… Or perhaps a terrorist organization, if you ask in some quarters. They are in conflict with a human religious order of some kind.” She rattled her wing covers quietly indicating her discomfort with the topic.

  “I really need to know what I’m getting myself into…” I mumbled sleepily, feeling drained by the long day and even longer night.

  “The Tarots have done no harm to any, to my direct knowledge, though there are persistent rumors that they are at war with the temple of the Divine Light…” She shrugged, in exactly the way a human would, which was too much for me.

  I started laughing and couldn’t stop… when a jumping spider laughs, it’s expressed in short, skittering hops and tiny leaps… I danced my fool head off just losing it entirely, all because a mantis lady shrugged with her pointy, jagged forelimbs.

  “Sorry, Skrithy… I’m cool now, I swear. What’s the deal with some church butting heads with mister pale and deadly?” I asked, once I got my panicked giggle fit suppressed enough to speak.

  “The complexities of human religion and theology are occult to most non-humans. Yours are a secretive and odd people, little understood, despite being among the most widely dispersed races among the cosmos.” She murmured softly.

  “You are known as ‘dead-worlders’ to most species, though your kind seem to take that appellation as a deadly insult.” She shrugged again, which didn’t break my tenuous control, this time. “No one understands humans, perhaps because so few take the time to learn the languages of other races.”

  “You know where there are other humans?” I asked a little too sharply, before remembering that I was no longer a human and would probably cause a panic wherever I appeared.

  “Oh, yes. There are several local realms and dimensions where your people have established colonies.”

  She cooed happily. “Humans have always been a special interest of mine…. You are always so mysterious and odd!”

  “Did they pop through the void like I did?” I asked weakly, feeling even more exhausted by the day’s ordeals.

  “Oh heavens no, isekai are rare in any species and even more uncommon among humans, so far as we know… There is little information available on your kin. They travel the realms through their own means, which are also a mystery to the other races.” She sighed again and settled down on the grass in front of me.

  “We call your kind ‘dead-worlders’ simply because of your propensity for settling on worlds that lack sufficient magic for most races to thrive. It seems to be a preference among your race, rather than an aversion to magical energies.” She murmured contentedly, as the stars twinkled in the clear night sky so far above.

  “So there are humans living out here in the wider universe… I’d like to meet them, I think.” I mumbled.

  “That is entirely possible, though Arachneans cannot survive on worlds with magical fields under ‘D’ rank.” She replied, her own many faceted eyes gazing up at the endless starfields above us. “That’s tier three, as humans measure things.”

  “Can you explain a little more about that? I’m feeling pretty lost in general.” She gave me a mantis smile, which was a slow salute with her forelimbs, when I asked a question she felt prepared to answer.

  “Every habitable realm possesses a magical field, surrounding and encompassing the entire domain. Not unlike the natural aura and Animus of a living being.” She cooed softly.

  The universe is alive, my friend… every universe is alive and exists within the greater expanse of the endless and chaotic ether.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Uh, right?” I muttered weakly.

  She sat up straight and started acting like a teacher who was really enjoying the lecture she was delivering to a particularly dim class.

  “Think of a vast forest, if you will, through that endless expanse, countless animals and creatures fly… Some are large, some small, some are weaker or stronger. They live and die, those mammals, birds, insects and far stranger things; some fade quickly, while others linger on for untold aeons.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in, before carrying on.

  “So too is the greater universe, though in my metaphor, each tiny flying creature is a realm of creation, spanning an entire vast universe of its own.”

  “Whoa…” I gasped through my wooden noisemaker. “That’s a lot.”

  “Of course it is… She answered smugly. “Though, this is not the real universe, we are in the realm of dungeons… A separate and little understood domain all its own.” She rattled her carapace in dissatisfaction.

  “There are many theories regarding this realm; master Klevin is an ardent evangelist of his god, Truck-Kun. That deity’s teachings and lore seem to relate to this place… Though I generally find gods and religion to be unreliable in most matters of the wider ether”. She gave another shrug, which still tickled me, something awful.

  “I am a simple researcher and wilderness guide, unprepared to discuss those weightier matters. Friend Klevin is a dungeon lord in his own right and priest of this local deity, Truck-Kun… As such he understands much of this place… The Chariot is also wise in the inner workings and hidden subtleties of this realm as well, I believe.”

  “So we are in some kind of side universe full of these ‘dungeon worlds’, instead of, whatever is usually going on?” I was fading fast, but needed at least a little usable info to sleep on.

  “Exactly. These are ephemeral realms, struggling to manifest into the cosmos, each one unique and often very odd indeed.” She murmured.

  “Though there are so many of them, finding entry and gaining access to any particular world is often impossible, until the conditions are right. At some point, natural openings will develop in nearby compatible realms, luring in delvers and explorers. That is when a Dungeon Lord can appear.”

  “And that’s me, on this world?” I asked, half afraid of the answer.

  “Yes. though what that means and what it entails is highly variable and deeply mysterious. Few Dungeon Lords will give interviews or discuss the actual details with outsiders. Thus the entire phenomenon is shrouded in mystery.” She glanced hopefully at me and clattered her wing cases.

  “Any information you choose to share with me will be deeply appreciated.”

  “Uh-huh…” I answered, rattling out a noncommittal beat on my guiro. “I don’t know anything yet…”

  “That will change, friend, if you listen to Klevin and accept the Chariot’s offer.” She opined, before unleashing a clattery insect yawn; a cricket chirp produced by stridulating her hindmost legs.

  “I shall retire for the night… I wish you well, friend Gary Ward…”

  In a few seconds, she had vanished into the shrubbery; headed back to the dwarven encampment, where the hunt for an ‘A Ranked Monster’ went on, since I had yet to accept the title.

  The golden window asking if I wished to become the Dungeon lord of this place still winked softly in the corner of my upper left eye, patiently awaiting my answer.

  I made my way back to my nest, hidden high on an east facing cliffside, where the morning sun would warm me first; before it could wake the rest of the valley floor.

  Sleep found me deep in the night, it was impossible to really say when, with no moon in the sky, just endless swirling stars that were apparently not really stars at all…

  I had lots of things to ponder, most of them were deeply ridiculous, absurd or impossible, were I still human…

  As exhausted as I felt, I was absolutely wired on whatever endorphin cocktail my biology liked hitting me with. Sleep was not coming soon and I really needed to keep myself busy. In idle fidgety and neurotic angst, I produced a bit of web and began weaving without a plan or even a thought about what might result.

  I’d made quite a few refinements to my ‘tin can on a string’ listening devices over the last few days, as I tried to tap into the subtle energetic vibration I felt in my finest web constructs…

  My latest experiments in snooping on dwarves were getting into the realm of actual magic, in a few undeniable ways. My latest version, if I hooked it directly into my main web and I held the communication strand, I could almost see the dwarf camp, as if I were in a treetop thirty yards from their wall, rather than a quarter mile away, in my nest.

  I derived a lot of satisfaction from the process of creating them as well, it satisfied some natural urges that my stress and frustration were triggering.

  I reflected idly on my latest version and considered how the sensory web worked logically. The vibrations carried along the line were so clear, it had to be supernatural, but the way that my own senses and nervous system interpreted that information… That was entirely natural. My entire nervous system was wired for web input, instinctively…

  Those vibrations were the key to a subtle and intricate sense that combined sound and vision with a delicate perception of air currents and their shifting movements.

  That brought old man Klevin’s problem back to my mind… If I could derive sensory information by interpreting those vibrations… Why not try and create something for the old man in a similar vein?

  I got my spider-adrenaline jazzed body and mind started twitching and fidgeting productively, knitting a complex web structure that came to me as I worked, lost in a dreamlike trance of exhaustion and nervous tension.

  I stitched, knitted and folded my gossamer threads and slowly spun out more and more of my finest, thinnest web, tucking loops and coils through and then stewing them down into a complex, endless knotwork veil of spiderweb lace, all spun from a single, unbroken thread.

  I weighed the thin and delicate textile in my pedipalps and considered the thing… it felt right, like somehow my thoughts and intent had manifested something in the scrap of pale silver cloth. Dawn was just peeking over the mountains, wondering if she should wake me, when I finished my project and rolled into my nest to sleep at last.

  /

  Klevin and Skree showed up just before midday, or maybe they had been waiting for a while and were too polite to mention it… Either way I was still tired, cranky and stressed out when I stepped out into the sunshine, glaring at the songbirds for being so noisy.

  My recollection of the late night experiments I’d made with my new invention were hazy, and I was in no mood to try to explain, so I kept the gauzy little scrap of cloth tucked away in my satchel while the old man lectured me.

  “The Necromancer will show ye what things ye need tae know, when it comes tae navigating the void and such… For my part, I will try as I can tae aid thee where it comes tae dealings with other mortal beings… A matter he does still struggle with.” The old dwarf chuckled wryly.

  “You can help me?” I croaked through my primitive instrument; I was beginning to dislike the sound of it intensely. That was another project to work on.

  “Ye are an Arachnean, lad, there’s no helping that.” He chuckled. “Most races avoid them, since any world where the sentient females are found, the males will always arrive soon after… Yer kind have a unique facility for void travel, even the males..”

  “So male Arachneans are really just dangerous animals?” I asked, with a sinking feeling in my big round backside.

  “That ye be a male will greatly increase the worries of those who are familiar with the species. In yer case, even those well acquainted with your people will most likely attack or flee at first sight of thee.” He sighed sadly. “Those who dinnae know… Well, yer a giant venomous spider, lad.” He grumbled. “My kin are veteran delvers, well acquainted with strange beings and willing to treat fairly with any race or kith… But were ye to walk up to the gate, they would fill ye with quarrels before ye could rattle yer stick in greeting.”

  “Wherever I go, I will be a terrifying monster… or a weirdo.” I rattled weakly.

  There be only one place where an Arachnean male with a human man’s mind can fit in… That be with the Tarots, lad.” The old dwarf shook his head sadly at me and sighed a long and gusty breath. “The god of interdimensional fuckery, Truck-Kun will always see an isekai lands in a body and on a world where they have a chance tae thrive… Somehow, yer soul never felt his touch, was never guided here by that benevolent god.”

  He shook his shaggy head again. “I wonder… I wonder if my mute octopus friend is in a similar strait…” He murmured.

  “I will come calling, from time to time tae speak with ye, when I can, lad. I must go see my poor friend and investigate this thought.”

  I had a ton to think over as well… and the mysterious Necromancer would be calling on me again after sunset, so I crawled back in my nest with a tired wave at the bug lady and the dwarf.

  /

  I awoke to the sound of rushing wings and the unmistakable vibrations of a large body landing atop the cliff I was nesting on. My supposed ‘brother’ ‘the Necromancer’ had returned, as promised.

  He stood once more in my clearing and once again I sensed that the being standing there was not real…

  I could hear him move, the rustle of clothing, the pop and creak of his joints, I could even detect the air currents disturbed by his body’ movements.

  What I didn’t detect was breathing, or a heartbeat, the gurgle of a digestive tract or any other sign of life. Likewise, his body emitted no heat, no warmth at all; he wasn’t even cold, just ambient temperature.

  “Come out, Gary. You know I mean you no harm.” He called with my old voice.

  “You first!” I rattled at him with my guiro. “I think that the person I’m looking at is a fake.”

  “Very astute. Though I prefer to call it a ‘Glamour Projection’ rather than decrying it as fake. Think of it as a tangible illusion. I can see, hear and sense everything that my body does, so just go with it, please.” There was a pleading note in his/my voice, one I was disinclined to indulge.

  “No chance. I wanna know who I’m dealing with.” I barked, adding in a little extra percussion and a few fills at the end.

  “Really, I’m a lot to deal with… It’s easier this way, I promise.” He almost begged. “It’s super embarrassing…”

  “Nope.” I played the denial with staccato authority and rock solid conviction, I was not going to be moved.

  A huge and hollow sounding sigh drifted over the clearing and forest, not a sound, but the quiet, resigned expression of a vast being’s resignation to an unpleasant task. The sigh was a magical effect, no doubt about it. My fluffy, furry tufts of colorful hairs were tingling with the potency of whatever that was.

  “Very well. I will do my best to make this easy.” As he spoke, he faded from view, slowly dissolving into mist and shadows. At the same time, the sound of something huge crawling over the cliff face, directly past my little nest terrified the hell out of me, since nothing at all was visible, to any of my eyes.

  “Do you insist?” He asked, from the empty clearing below my cliffside web.

  “Yes…” My answer was weak, powerful weak; I’m sure it was barely audible down below.

  A faint shimmer fell over the clearing as a vast, pale form appeared in the dim starlight.

  The creature’s long, serpentine neck, fierce, horned head and serpentine features were terrifying enough… My brain shorted out when it stretched it’s enormous bat wings of dusty leather and bones, blotting the stars out across a distressingly wide expanse of sky.

  A freaking skeletal dragon was coiled in my clearing, filling the place nearly to the treeline. If stretched out it would be… Too damn long and too impossible.

  “See? Totally embarrassing. I’m the end boss of all edgelords.” He mumbled awkwardly. “Shadow magic, necromancy, I’m undying and regenerate at a truly astounding rate… and I can breath ghost fire.” He reared up and spread his wings out to their full glory, casting my whole cliffside in shadow with his immensity.

  “Ok, that’s a lot to take.” I gasped, while my spider hindbrain was going haywire at the sight of a giant lizard with wings. Birds, bats and lizards were all notable predators of my smaller kin and some of that had stuck with me.

  This creature was absolutely terrifying, but I had no pants to shit and I was just about wrung dry, brain chemistry wise. So I just sat there, staring dumbly at the monster chunni who spoke with my voice.

  /