Origami_Narwhal

  The light of dawn is colder today, in warmth and spirit both. A morning jog through the mist chilled my body and awakened my mind, but did little to soothe the dread in my gut. Tea hasn't helped much either— still dressed for running, I sprawl across a chair and do my best to ease my worries. A little trick with Wind siphons the extra heat from my body, cooling my muscles and hopefully slowing down my sweating.

  Despite that ease, my tail coils around the chair leg, scales clicking an anxious rhythm against wood.

  Delving well past your limits, a grim part of me murmurs, sounding much like my seniors at the Guild. An unacceptable risk. Soul fracture, permanent injury, high likelihood of death.

  But I have to take the risk anyways, don’t I? Just a few more Delves opened by Dongbaek, and the wards will crumble like sand before the waves. No wards, no hiding from monsters.

  The sheer mass of humanity in Craumont would drag abominations here like moths to a fme. They too will burn, but not without great cost. How many lurk in the woods, I wonder?

  “This Delve might kill me, you know,” I say idly to Benny, mind churning through risks and consequences. I take a sip of what should be an excellent tea, but all I can taste is ash. “I'll be writing a letter to the Guild, too. A handful of Delvers is plenty to squash this problem, but they'll take two or three months to get here, unless we're absurdly lucky.”

  “You seem at peace with the risk, madam,” Benny remarks calmly, though I can see how their wrinkles deepen. “Is there no other option?”

  I think on their words, as if that same thought hadn't kept me up for hours st night. “With Verity's help, it's probably less risky than I'm worried about. But...”

  I trail off, pouring my worries off and unwinding my tail. It draws gentle arcs above the carpet, tacking against the legs of my chair at each end. How can I mitigate the risks here? Maybe Ulritch can whip up some enchantments to ease the pressure. Prohibitively expensive, usually, but money is hardly an object here.

  “Um,” Helena murmurs, stumbling down the stairs and into the main room. “Does it matter if you hit the bottom? Even halfway, would... mm, probably get us a lot of time, right?”

  Benny raises an eyebrow at me, and I find myself repressing the urge to snarl. As if I hadn't considered that! Of course I know I could take less risk, but what if it's not enough? A thousand things could fail.

  No. Breathe, Ivy. In and out.

  “It might not do enough,” I say instead, watching her drop into the chair across from me.

  Helena blinks slowly, and I watch as her sleep-mired brain churns behind unfocused eyes.

  “Just... do more Delves, then?” She yawns, stretching and closing her eyes. “You’re really good at it.”

  “Well, thank you,” I say finally, a thousand pointless answers springing to mind. I sweep them away with a halfhearted shrug. “I’m just worried, really. Hard not to be.”

  The only response I get is a snore as Helena slumps further into her seat. A surge of anger fshes through me, frustration and exhaustion and envy. How can anyone seem so unconcerned in the face of... everything?

  Benny snorts, and I whip my head over to pin them in my gaze. “What is it, Benny?”

  They raise an eyebrow, lips curling back to reveal a thin smile. “It seems imminent disaster is insufficient as a wake up call, madam. Shall I get the bell?”

  Turmoil and dread knot in my gut, but amusement proves an excellent wedge to split it. A snort bubbles its way up, then a strained chuckle, and finally a ugh that has my tail thumping against the carpet. Muscles unwind, tension eases, and poor Helena is lurching awake with drool on her cheek.

  Gods. A good ugh beats the jog and the tea, easily.

  I have to wonder how much Craumont knows. Does it see the shadow stirring in the murk? Or is it all gossip, specution on this sudden operation in the Wildflower District? I imagine being dressed up in my gear doesn't exactly help.

  Hopefully, that's all they'll ever need to worry about. I give the lovely baked potato vendor a tight-lipped smile, hiding my teeth so I don't scare her this time, then stride off casually while taking a massive bite. Bit of a waste of excellently textured potato, but there’s apparently something to be said for looking unbothered. Lizzie suggested it, might as well give it a go.

  I don't need to fake my tail waving and swinging, though. This really is a fantastically seasoned snack, and it's a good accompaniment as I weave my way down to the Wildflower District.

  Bleh. Everything is stuck between pleasant and ominous, isn't it?

  “...hear the war in Caliburn is getting worse again,” I hear, snatching the gossip from the crowded air. “That's why our Lord is pulling out the stops, you know. Keep the city clean of Caliburnite rabble, you see.”

  I drop the threads and leave them to the wind. Refugees from the Caliburn Secessions aren't likely to show up here, but calling them rabble is wrong. None of this tells me anything, other than gossip is gossip and I can only guess at what Craumont thinks.

  Keep on task, Ivy. Verity should already be there at the staging area.

  I take another bite of my potato and speed up my pace. My tail clicks and ccks along the cobbled streets. I hop the tracks rather than bother with looking for a crossing, then lose a few minutes because I’m still getting acquainted with how the Wildflower District is id out.

  Luckily, it is very easy to find the staging area for the Delve. Not because I can sense it, no, but because Verity is very loud.

  Her voice carries gently down the street, still audible to me even fifty-odd marches away. Rather than catch the thread of her words, I follow them back to their source. Round the bend, down the alley, past a smattering of stalls and a collection of gawking gossipers into the broad, cobbled pza where my work will begin.

  Anticipation stirs in my chest, hot and shivering. My cws flex and lengthen, my scales creep across my chest. Maybe I'll get right into the opening of the Delve, rather than waiting around.

  “The Dame too?” I hear someone murmur.

  “This is about that priest they ran out of the Church, isn’t it. Bitgarm, wasn’t it?” another says, and I force my focus back to Verity’s rather loud voice.

  "Secret passages? Really?" Verity trills out a ugh, and I round the final corner just as she shakes her head. It's an almost theatrical action, amplified when an actual bent feather drifts from her hair. "I'm very sorry, detective, but that's almost gauche. Definitely irresponsible."

  Detective? Well, I knew we'd have constables and the guard around to rope off the area, and they’re indeed here. But I didn't expect a detective. While I can't see them— they're across the pza and Verity’s conversation partner is obscured by a pin fountain— the subject matter gives me a few hints. Actually a lot of hints.

  "The Church may do what they want with their property," a very familiar voice replies, bnd as I've ever heard it. Gelson! Well, Ruby, because I’m not working with her right now. "I recommended they revise the floor pn.”

  My tail drags along the ground in a series of satisfying clicks, and after some debate, I choose to examine the pza rather than jump into that conversation. It's a good distraction while I eavesdrop— and helps quell my rising impatience. I'll wait until she's free to ask, but I'd like to get started soon.

  Verity turns at the sound, though, meeting my eyes just long enough to wink at me before turning back. “Including the passage, or changing the actual yout? I’ve met a Drake that could bust down a few walls, and I could take a shot at it.”

  I snort, and I move far enough in to see Ruby’s baffled expression. Ah, poor Verity, discovering the Gelson (ck of) humor. “I am sure the Dame could manage, Padin Greyfeather, but unauthorized demolition is discouraged. I did offer them both an architect and an expedited application to the town masons, but they declined.”

  Verity rests her hands on her hips, shifting her weight to one side. “It was a jest to lighten things, but not all arrows nd true, I suppose. Now, you’re saying he snuck it out with the passage? He must’ve thought nobody would notice.”

  “Correct.” Ruby nods curtly. She turns to a nearby constable, murmuring something about the cordon and accounting for a shop. “Apologies. His exact pns were not ascertained. I will add them to the report when he is captured.”

  “If I wasn’t so concerned by his competence, I’d be impressed he got away. The Church of the Restoration isn’t... well, you know,” Verity replies, gesturing vaguely to an alleyway. “They don’t like Mages, something about being a selfish discipline. Short-sighted, but I don’t have enough time in my Goddess’ day to convince them of that.”

  “Yes,” Ruby says ftly, and her eyes finally fsh my way. “Excellent. Greetings, Ivy.”

  Verity’s eyebrows shoot up, and the curiosity practically burns in her eyes. I just shrug back to her, and the way her lips curl into a pout is entirely worth it.

  “Same to you, Ruby,” I reply easily, striding on up to the conversation. “Didn’t expect they’d send you. And of course, hello Verity.”

  “I can’t even get her to say my first name,” Verity sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not even part of your power structure, Detective.”

  “Give it time, Verity,” I chuckle, waving her off and looking at Ruby. “What do you think, Ruby? Verity's going to be around for a while, you might just become friends.”

  Ruby clears her throat, looking off into the distance for a moment. “The padin's behavior is forced. Likely an act, possibly exaggeration. However, she is trustworthy.”

  "The padin can hear you." Verity's reply is singsong, but her pout morphs into a frown. “That's a bit rude.”

  "She called you trustworthy, Verity,” I offer quickly. I asked Ruby a question and got a Ruby answer, not sure what I was expecting. "Took her a whole investigation to like me, and she seems to like you already.”

  "I stated the truth," Ruby states, blunt as ever. Her fingers flex. “Offense was not my intention.”

  "You're forgiven, then," Verity ughs, and...

  Gods, I can hear it. That strained note, a mirror to my own when the drake in me stirs. Intriguing.

  A moment ter, it's gone. She's smiling again, gently tapping Ruby on the shoulder. “We'll have to pick up that story ter. Now that Ivy is here, I can't just stand around looking gorgeous, can I?”

  Chuckling again, I give Ruby a proper goodbye nod, which she returns. My tail taps along with my thoughts, and once Ruby's moved off to talk with the constables, I turn my focus to Verity. There's work to be done after all.

  “So—” I start, once I've gotten a bit closer physically.

  “Is that—” Verity says at the same time, and we both stop. “Mind if I start?”

  “If it's about what Ruby said, I don't need an expnation,” I reply, gesturing at Verity. Wait, she acted casual before, am I overthinking this? “If that's not, well, carry on with whatever you're going to say.”

  She trills out a ugh, short and sudden, before gesturing back at me. “That was it. So, no, you go first while I remember my other question.”

  A smirk creeps across my face, curling my lips, and I answer her statement with a snort. “Alright. So you're on guard duty as pnned— and I'm geared up. Mind supervising while I take a quick look at the Delve?”

  She hums, turning around and scanning the pza. There's a handful of guards milling about, and the constables have nearly finished encircling the area with a series of posts and ropes. One is even draping nets over the ropes— guess they actually read the guidebooks. If anything does slip out, those'll help with tangling feet, if the monster has any.

  “You're expecting me to smite them with my Goddess's divine authority, or possibly the might of the Sun?” She says finally, looking back over her shoulder at me.

  I furrow my brow at the tone, picking it apart carefully. Light and airy, as always, but that phrasing does match up with sarcasm. Making a decision, I shrug and tap my tail against the floor.

  “Yes?”

  “Absolutely yes!” Verity corrects, spinning back around and bringing her arms in so she doesn't smack a passing constable. Her eyes fsh in the light, for a heartbeat her soft smile turns toothy and hawkish. “Ivy, I love being a padin. I travel where the Goddess guides me, give advice where I can, learn where I can't... I heal, teach, mediate, everything.”

  She pauses for a steadying breath, hand resting on the mace at her hip. Her eyes burn from within, Fire and Sun and excitement shining brightly for a life I'd absolutely loathe living. Just looking at it and taking in the sheer energy she exudes is almost too much for me.

  “But you don't get to bash monsters enough?” I guess, quickly bringing my tail up to inspect. I’ve been hitting the ground a fair bit, and sure enough I’ve got some weeds and dust gunking up the tip. A quick application of Wind to my cws helps bst it all out, and I let it return to its pnt-and-whatever collecting.

  “No, not nearly enough. She doesn’t even give me many spells for bashing.”

  “I think I prefer my profession, then,” I chuckle, stepping over the ropes with care. “And speaking of, I’m pnning to hit the end of the fourth yer or five hundred marches, whichever happens first. You’ll keep an eye out and...”

  “Bash monsters, in your words?” Verity sidles up to me, carefully stepping out of range of my tail. Her bubbly tone and almost audibly bright attitude is very slowly starting to irritate me. “I can do that. Can’t promise any real divine smiting, but Sun magic is nearly as fshy.”

  “That’ll be fine,” I say, a bit absently, turning most of my attention to feeling out wherever the original Delve entrance was. Better, and far easier, than cutting out a new portal nearby.

  Hm. If I understood my parents’ work, this would be far easier, wouldn’t it? Something schorly in me stirs from its nest of parchment, floating tempting ideas and strange questions. With my parents' work already loosed upon the world, I may just need to open those locked rooms and see what secrets they hold.

  After several minutes, I find it. I feel the curvature, I can sense the funnel’s shape and determine its center. There’s a decent subtle pull to this one, maybe three or four marches at best. Enough to make a child woozy or an animal act oddly, but nothing more. I might not be great at chases, but my sense for Delves is still excellent.

  “Found it,” I say, allowing a little bit of pride to creep into my voice. The rest goes to a sweep of my tail. “Verity, can I get—”

  “Already here and ready to go! If anything tries to come through, I’ll help!” Verity chirps, and I don’t need to look over to check if she’s smiling again.

  I just grunt in response. Too much energy for me.

  My cws move, first in the World and then along the axis of impossibility. I feel the seams, the ridges of a mending scar, tracing their shape in reality. Well-healed, but not sealed— it doesn't take long to find the lines where I will tear this portal wide open.

  Magic drips into my cws, lengthening and sharpening. One hand on one side, one on the other, cws pressing in and hooking into the gilded abyss—

  Revulsion.

  A vile, shuddering sensation that spreads like poison in water, cw-first, and my gut clenches in response. A thousand bitter poisons, a chalky ooze worming between my scales...

  I lurch away from the portal with a snarl, spitting bile from my throat and cursing in every nguage I can think of. Lightning surges across my scales, searing away the vile wrongness on my body.

  Verity is suddenly by my side, one cwed hand on my stomach and the other pressed into my back. “Ivy! Goddess, are you alright? Is—”

  “Quiet,” I growl, letting the sound trail off. “Let me... breathe.”

  I take a moment to catch my breath, to center my mind in the rhythmic clicking of my tail on stone. It’s a little harder to do with the rising chatter of the people around me, but I manage.

  What was that? I've never felt a Delve this... repulsive. Rotten, almost. I must have left myself vulnerable to the Delve, letting its magic leak in. Guess I'll be changing my practices.

  "I think," I say finally, coughing one st time, still facing the ground, "that I hate this city’s Delves.”

  A pause.

  “Dame Crawford!” someone shouts, and the sound is followed by a loud shuffling of feet, likely spectators jostling for a look. Bah, I’ve made a spectacle, haven’t I? More gossip that Lizzie will throw back at me ter, a thousand times twisted.

  I rise, catching the gazes of every guard, constable, and curious bystander. My eyes have changed to slits, I can tell. Some stare— many flinch. The onrush of guards stalls under my gaze, lingering a few meters distant. Curiosity and worry churn in the eyes that’ll meet mine, and I can hear the drumbeat of fear stirring in the rest.

  Verity's hand lifts from my back, and my eyes finally meet hers. She takes a step back, looks me up and down with a furrowed brow, and sighs. “Are you alright? What happened?”

  “I'm fine,” I say, my words still underscored by a growl. “Delve feels wrong. Let its magic get on me.”

  “Wrong?” Verity repeats, eyes widening. She shakes her head, gnces around, and sighs. “Goddess. Don’t answer that yet, I need to calm the crowd.”

  I catch a glimpse of a perfectly false smile before she turns around, clearing her throat.

  “So sorry for the scare, everyone! Dame Crawford’s run into a little snarl of magic earlier than expected, gave us all a start. We’re just patching that up so it doesn’t hurt anyone else, actually! Might take a bit...”

  I swallow a surge of irritation. Verity’s bending of truth is enough to build a bitter taste in my mouth, like soap on the tongue. Part of me thinks we should just tell everyone now, but I imagine that’d cause dangerous panic.

  Shaking off that pointless discussion, I turn back to the portal and start inspecting it again... far more carefully, keeping my cws well away from the interior of the seams. Verity answers a question or two, offers some sort of blessing, and by the time she’s wrapped it up, I’ve got a better idea of what’s going on.

  “So. Worse than the slimy feeling from before?” she starts right where we left off, then rolls her eyes when I snort. “Well, obviously, but... what does that mean?”

  “I have some theories, but nothing definite,” I admit, gathering the drifting bits of thought. I give the Delve a rather stern gre, but it remains unrepentant. “Delves are abstractions, so they don’t py nicely with physical bodies. Sometimes they line up to feel Gods-awful. Some wards pull the same trick, so it’s not out of the question.”

  “You’ve got a lot more experience with them than I do.” Verity leans forward, flicking her eyes up to maintain eye contact. Her voice softens, just slightly. “I suppose I’ll just have to trust you on that, hm?”

  I look away, scraping my tail along the street. “I’d prefer it.”

  “Fantastic,” Verity beams, far too bright as always. “So, what’re you pnning? I assume you’d have said something already if we were backing off on this.”

  “I would’ve called it off immediately if I thought it was too dangerous,” I say, hoping to the Gods that I’m right. “And this should make it safer, actually.”

  Verity gestures toward me. “Do tell.”

  I jerk my head toward the nascent portal. “Mind joining me for the first expedition?”

  Verity looks at me for a moment, tilts her head, and puts on a very obviously fake frown. “Are you asking? Ivy, I’m hurt.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “That’s a yes. Absolutely, even. It bears repeating.”

  This could be fun. Should be, even.

  But some part of me, deep and dark, thinks this is all about to go very wrong.

  Origami_Narwhal