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Thorn in Isekai
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She'll add her own name to the list, then, and go inform Bys that they'll be leaving with the caravan.

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She finds Abyssia walking down the street away from Sharktooth. 

"-Of course there's a caravan. Now I feel silly."

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"Me too. But, well. Live and learn. So I'm unexpectedly free tonight, and I happen to have met a charming fischer woman. Would you like to talk some more? ...maybe more?"

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She blushes blue, looks to the side, flexes her left hand a few times apparently as a nervous tic.

"-I should tell you something. It's- It could be no big deal, or it could be important, and it's a little weird. Well, pretty weird."

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"I'll trade you a secret for a secret. But this sounds like the kind of thing that's best done in private. Might I invite you back to my room at the Fine Pine?"

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"I was almost going to suggest that. Just as long as it's - I mean, this is a serious conversation and it's not that you're not attractive, but I don't want to think about that until we clear the waters."

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She nods. "That's entirely fair."

She starts off towards the Fine Pine at a decent pace.

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Abyssia follows at the same pace. She's a bit out of breath by the time they get to the other inn, and frowning.

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She goes to her room in the Fine Pine, swipes the keycard, goes in and sits on the bed since there's nowhere else to sit.

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Abyssia settles into a comfortable cross-legged pose on the floor like she's done it a thousand times.

"Flip a coin to see who talks first?" She digs out a copper penny. "Heads, me, Dungeon, you."

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"... under the understanding that you'll swear not to talk about this to anyone else, that's agreeable."

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"...Mh. I don't swear things lightly. Perhaps with some caveats."

She flips the coin.

"Heads. I'll tell you mine anyway, and think about it." Deep breath. "Many Fischers hear the voices of our gods when they commune or make a sacrifice. It's considered a blessing and a sign of worthiness to hear whispers. They're hard to interpret, but useful guidance. The thing is, I hear them all the time, mostly from a few specific - patrons. These are the kind and good deep ones, those who try their best to help we Fischers thrive. And they need me. I really don't like telling people about it because of the fear and dislike I told you about, but you don't care, do you?"

She flexes her left hand, drumming her fingers against her leg.

"And besides... I think you're important to whatever they need me for. I need to find 'the key'. Except the key is probably a metaphor for something, not an actual object. Someone, some place, some ritual I could do... It's hard to interpret their long-term advice, and it radically changes sometimes too. Short term advice like 'the twice-corrupted swimming maw hunts you!' is usually pretty easy to figure out. Anyway, I think you're important to things somehow. A few days ago they started getting really insistent I come here, and I think they were trying to tell me I should meet you. I have no idea what bees have to do with any of this, though..."

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"Well," she says. "It's obvious why they'd want you to meet me. I'm the summoned hero." 

She takes her pencil from her pocket and sets it spinning in the air with her TK.

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Abyssia sharply exhales and leans back, eyes wide.

With every year that passes, the chance that the next Demon Lord will arrive increases. And the next summoned hero as well, a man or woman or person who inevitably makes the history books of the era, shattering the existing order and becoming the most important person in the world. History gives them patterns to work by. The Demon Lord and Summoned Hero fight with mountain-destroying, crater-causing, cataclysmically powerful magic. There are dozens and dozens of distinct landmarks left behind by climactic showdowns. The lake known as Demon's Mark, mere hundreds of miles away, is the result of Demon Lord Beria Vulcan attempting to summon a massive army of infernal creatures, only to be stopped by legendary Shieldmaiden Bridgitte Gaulle, one of the Hero Rei Atsuka's Companions, in a climactic battle that caused all the energy invested in whatever foul ritual was being attempted to explode.

And destiny and her gods have brought her here, to her. If she is to be one of the Summoned Hero's Companions... She has a place in history. She'll be one of the figures of legend, caught up in a titanic struggle, the adventure of a dozen lifetimes, savior of the world. She needs to be whatever the Summoned Hero needs. As much as part of her wishes to take that power and use it for herself right now, the entire world is at risk. If the Demon Lord's reign is not stopped, the slaughter would be... Immeasurable. Is that her purpose? Is that her destiny? It's a rush of shock and pride to imagine it so. It's something she would throw herself into without reservation. Because it would be needed.

But...

Telekinesis is not such a strange Skill. There are surely any number of magical disciplines that allow it. The repairing-objects she exhibited earlier adds a complication to the simple explanation, the one her mind now tries to leap to, that she's lying... What does she trust more than anything else? The whispers. And they think Thorn is very important. She'll ask, later, back in her room, with her personal shrine and a sacrifice of blood.

 

"Blood and darkness... This is a big fucking deal, if it's true. Blood and fucking darkness... Do you have any idea-" She cuts herself off. "The fate of the world. The world. How many billions of people is that? I swear upon my life, once I seek answers from the Garden of Eyes, if you speak truth, I shall never reveal this vital secret even unto death or undeath. Fuck."

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She smiles ruefully. "It's true. I have a couple more tricks to show you, all magic from my homeworld written on me in these tattoos." 

She makes phantom flame in her hand; then she steps up into the air, hovers, and steps back down again. "I can't show off my flight or my teleportation ritual too easily, you'll have to trust that this little levitation is just the bones of flight. And trust me that the teleportation ritual exists - it takes an hour. My gun was of an advanced make that doesn't exist on this world; my athame was of black glass, obsidian, and carved with runes not unlike these on my arms. But lastly - my Unique Skill. May I have your hand?"

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"I am going to ask my most perceptive patron, the Garden of Eyes, with a ritual of my own. If they say 'yes'... I will devote myself to what is obviously, overwhelmingly the most important thing I could be doing. You may." She reaches out.

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She takes Bys' hand, and taps the Chronobank. Haste Other. 

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She feels the change. She raises her hand and snaps her fingers in, perceptually, slow motion. She swishes a lock of her hair forwards and watches it splay out and fall.

She can't feel any magic on her. Thorn didn't take time to focus and cast, like an ordinary Haste-type spell requires. She counts the subjective seconds, estimates the objective time passing- It's impressive.

 

"What I just experienced is the kind of magic I would expect an A-rank adventurer to be able to wield. I'm... Gods. I think I believe you. I'm going to check, but..."

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She nods, smiles. "Trust, but verify. I understand. Should I leave you to contemplate in peace?"

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"...Do you think they have a large, shallow bowl I could borrow? Dark colored, if possible. I'll do it right here. Checking, I mean."

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"Seems like the kind of thing they might have. Want to go check together?"

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She takes a deep breath, eyes closed.

"Sure."

She follows Thorn downstairs in somewhat of a daze. A bowl is easily acquired. She fills it with water from her canteen, back in Thorn's room. 

"It could be bad if you interrupt. Probably wouldn't be a big deal, but please don't."

She cuts the side of her arm lightly with a belt knife, and lets deep red blood drip into the bowl for a few seconds. Then she puts a small bandage on and says a small nonsense-poem that cleans her knife.

And then... She stares into the bowl, holding her hands over it, and chanting about needing advice, needing truth, sacrificing for information...

Something is definitely happening. It's completely silent except for Abyssia's resonating chanting. The water in the bowl has turned pitch black. The bowl seems to expand more and more despite staying the same size. It's almost hypnotic, like you could fall in and be lost forever.

There is a voice, whispering from everywhere. Thorn can't understand it.

 

"Is she the Summoned Hero?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

She makes a face. "...Is this Thorn here with me from another world?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"Okay. Okay. Her quest is vital, then. Should I follow her, for the sake of the world?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"...I will take that as a yes. What else do I need to know, Garden of Eyes?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"I don't understand."

-whisper whisper whisper-

"Now, or soon, or after many moons?"

-whisper whisper whisper-

"...Thank you for your guidance, Garden of Eyes. Ilk'na!"

And the spell ends. The bowl is clear water no, no trace of blood.

 

Abyssia sighs and looks tired.

"It thinks you should kill that Mutant Wave Ripper... I think. That or another powerful non-dungeon monster. And it wouldn't say when. And it said you're the Hero. So. What now?"

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"Currently, well. I died, and then I woke up here. Everything is new to me. So do you mind if I ask some absolutely stupid basic questions I can't ask without looking weird?"

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"Of course. I'll answer as best I can."

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"First things first - hysh, and ghur, and dhar. My impression is that these are different - essences, or elements, of magic? But I don't have the complete pattern and I don't know what they are in and of themselves except that dhar is bad news. Do you know?"

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