TravelingDreamer
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B7—Chapter 24: A Sudden Vanishing Act
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 16:23:50 +0000 UTCThe trek to the Gate took us a few hours. We didn’t run full tilt but kept a leisurely jog and chatted along the way. Mahya had fun describing each bone she broke in the pissbucket's body, Al talked about his work in the alchemy lab, and I shared stories about patients I’d treated and a few other anecdotes from working in the Healing Hall.
Although we were invisible with Stealth engaged and chatted telepathically, some monsters and spawnies had senses sharp enough to know we were there and came after us. Not many—we passed most unnoticed—but occasionally they did detect us. I took care of most with Lightning, and the ones that had too good a grounding, like some ugly thing that looked like an amalgamation of roots and stems, and shot wood shards, Al slowed with a cold spell, and Mahya chopped into pieces. All in all, it was a pleasant jog with little trouble.
We were jogging through a sparse grove when confusion set in. The last time we ran through here following the Ironcrawler, I could still feel the Gate, but now I felt nothing.
“Do you feel the Gate?” I asked.
Both of them said no.
“Did you feel it last time at this distance?”
Al said no, but Mahya stopped suddenly. “I did.” Telepathy or not, she sounded tense.
I opened the Map and got a nasty surprise. Mahya started cursing out loud.
“Shh!” Al and I said in unison.
“Don’t shush me. I need some monsters right now. What the hell? Where did all the Gates go?”
The red zones still showed on the Map, but all the Gates that used to be in them were gone. There were still Gates marked, but the closest was about a third of the continent away.
“We should still go there. Maybe the Gate is there and only disappeared from the Map,” I suggested.
“I highly doubt it,” Al said.
“Me too, but let’s delay Mahya losing it,” I sent telepathically to him alone.
“She already did,” he sent in a flat tone.
The closest tree was flying apart in chips with Mahya cursing up a storm. It was interesting watching her kick a tree into smithereens without actually seeing her do it. Or maybe punching it into smithereens?
We waited for her to calm down, which took a while, and then picked up the pace. Sadly, the Map didn’t lie. The boulders were still there, but they were just regular stones now.
There was a muted thunk, and Mahya’s cursing went up a notch in volume. I suspected she was hopping on one foot, but unfortunately, she was still invisible, so I couldn’t enjoy the show.
I sat down, back resting against the former Gate’s anchor, and waited for her to cool off. Al dropped beside me, leaned against me, muttered an apology, and shifted a little to the side. Rue settled beside us and unerringly put his head in my lap.
Finally, Mahya ran out of steam and became visible, hands on her hips and a murderous expression on her face. “What now?” she asked angrily.
I shrugged. “We go to the closest Gate, I guess.”
She waved her hands at the former Gate. “But my cores! How the hell am I supposed to find another world with hundreds of cores just lying there unguarded and ripe for the taking?”
I became visible too and made a sweeping motion over the red zone. “You have a shit ton of dungeons here.”
She looked even angrier. “Shit ton is right. They are shit. Did you see the cores they produce? They’re tiny. I busted my ass dreaming up designs that need something better than crumbs, and now all of them are useless.” Her voice cracked slightly, though she tried to cover it with more swearing.
I took out the three cores Fu gave me and offered them to her. “Here are three to start. Besides, Zindor is not the only world with dungeons. We found some even on Lumis, not to mention my unbelievable core.”
She waved me off but looked a bit calmer. Her shoulders slumped, and she rubbed at her temple as though fighting off a headache. “Your core is a very rare occurrence. Inaccessible places are rare, especially with classes. I wanted my own chance at that, not scraps.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But not unheard of. Besides, even if we collect small cores, I can always merge them.” I stood and hugged her. “I know you’re disappointed right now. I get it. But come on, Zindor is a depressing shit show. It’s much more fun traveling in normal worlds, and we will find you more dungeons and cores. I’ll even help you clear them and stop avoiding it.”
She sighed and nodded, but still looked dejected.
“We should alter our glamour and display Classes,” Al said. He became visible and pointed at Rue. “You as well.”
We all did. I changed to Bard, Mahya to Wood Artisan, and Al to Mage. I shifted my sight to see what Rue looked like now. He was still the same size, but now he resembled the local dogs. He reminded me of a Sighthound in Great Dane size, but with small upright ears like a Doberman with cropped ears. The problem was that his fur now looked short. It was a beautiful gray with a bluish undertone, but short.
“That’s not gonna work,” I told him. “Your fur looks too short. If somebody pets you, they’ll know it’s a glamour. You’re too fluffy.”
A wave of mana passed over him, but he still looked almost the same. The only difference was a slightly darker shade of gray.
We all stared at him.
“I think it’s a size issue,” Mahya said. “It’s the only breed they have here that matches his.”
I thought for a moment. “Okay, buddy. Leave this glamour, but don’t let anybody pet you.”
He sighed audibly—a sound that held all the sadness and disappointment in the universe—and nodded.
We laughed.
Ladies and gentlemen, my dog, the drama queen.
“Do you wish to clear dungeons here and collect the cores?” Al asked Mahya.
She shook her head. “Too small. Let’s just go to the train station and get the hell out of here.” Her voice was flat, all the fire gone, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes. Mahya stared at the ground as though the dirt itself had cheated her, boots grinding against the stones in short, angry kicks.
I hoped she would snap out of it fast. Personally, I was happy about the change and even sent the system a mental thumbs-up. Zindor was depressing, and I was fed up with it. Of course, suggesting to Mahya that we change worlds would have been a lost cause. But now, it was out of our hands.
Good system.
I intentionally tuned in to Al’s emotions. It took a while since he was too closed off to read as easily as Mahya, but he was also thrilled. Yeah, we were all fed up with the doom and gloom in Zindor. I was sure Mahya was too; she just wanted the cores. Hopefully, we would find some in more pleasant places.
The run toward the train station was different. We moved much faster and barely talked. Al and I exchanged a few words here and there, but mostly each of us was lost in our own thoughts. Mahya kept shifting between deep disappointment and seething anger that rolled off her in waves. I really hoped she would snap out of it soon. Not just because it was unpleasant, but also because I hated seeing my friend in pain. And she was hurting, in her own fiery way.
We were still attacked occasionally, but this time, Mahya didn’t let me fry anything. She cut all the attackers into tiny pieces with extreme prejudice. I kept my fingers crossed that it would improve her mood.
After about five hours of running, we took a break in a shallow ravine with one visible access point and had lunch and coffee. While sitting there, I opened the Archive, scrolled down forever until I reached my original post about Zindor, and added the information on how to get there.
* * *
The train station was less crowded than it had been last time. A few people were leaving, hurrying with their bags, but each one was stopped by the guards and had their documents checked. The guards were hard-eyed men in dark uniforms, swords strapped at their sides and wand-rifles slung over their shoulders.
“We need new documents,” Mahya said.
I changed my name in the Guidance to Ro Jue. Yes, I just swapped a couple of letters since I didn’t have a better idea, and conjured fresh papers. They still listed House Jook as my affiliation, which I didn’t want. So I conjured another set without the connection.
“Why the second set?” Mahya asked.
“I don’t want any mention of House Jook.”
“Good idea,” she said, and Al gave a slight nod.
After handling the documents, we walked toward the guards.
“Papers!” one barked, his voice sharp. He was tall, with a scar running across his cheek, and his hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword.
We handed them over.
“Why are you leaving? Do you have permission?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“We came only to help with the wave,” Mahya said quickly. “We don’t have Eliminator or Cleaner contracts, so we don’t need permission.”
He glared at us as if we had already done something wrong, then pulled out a tablet and began tapping. “You’re not registered,” he said in a suspicious tone, squinting as though daring us to lie.
Mahya glared right back, her shoulders squaring. “Like I said. We. Came. To. Help. With. The. Wave.” She enunciated each word, her jaw tight.
The guard straightened to his full height and grabbed his weapon. His partner, shorter but broad-shouldered with a broken nose that looked badly healed, stepped forward. He jabbed a finger toward Mahya. “Watch how you speak to us.”
I stepped in, raising a calming hand. Mahya was too fiery right now, and logic was the last thing in her tone.
“I apologize for my friend,” I said. “We are exhausted. We barely slept during the entire wave, and when it ended, we had to rush back home to attend to our businesses. When we heard about the wave, we dropped everything to help. But now we need to get back urgently if we don’t want to lose our livelihood.”
They exchanged a glance, still suspicious, but the tension in the air loosened.
“Make sure your friend learns some manners,” the scarred guard said, voice low with warning.
Mahya opened her mouth, but I placed a firm hand on her shoulder before she could answer. “She just needs some sleep and she’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ve had times when you were awake for too long and got short-tempered. It’s just exhaustion talking. We fought for days without rest.”
At last, the two guards eased back. The scarred one gave a grudging nod, and his partner returned our documents.
Our destination was the Demesne of House Alila, which lay far off, and there was no direct train to get there. This time, I handled the tickets. Mahya still needed to cool off, and Al was better suited for noble, fancy matters than for day-to-day chores.
The tickets were hella expensive—ten mithril for a sleeping compartment on each leg of the journey, and there were three legs in total. That meant eleven days spent on trains. The only bright side was that all the trains departed daily, so we could reach a city, linger for a day or two as tourists, and then continue on our way. The catch was that we had to register in advance, since sleeping compartments were limited.
Once we boarded, Mahya hung the “do not disturb” sign on the compartment door with a sharp flick of her wrist. I opened my house, and she went straight into her workshop, slamming the door behind her hard enough to rattle the frame. Al drifted into the kitchen and started rummaging through cupboards and drawers with the air of a man on a mission.
“Looking for something?” I asked, leaning against the counter and already knowing the answer.
He hesitated for a couple of seconds, then sighed, shoulders drooping. “Where are the cookies?”
I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh. “I gave them to Pi.”
“Why?”
I gave him the look.
He raised both hands in surrender. “I apologize for the ill-advised question.”
“It’s fine. I’ll make you some.”
He gave me a grateful nod and retreated toward his lab. I rolled up my sleeves and got baking.
Comments
Silver Beard
Expected a bigger push after Al admitted he was looking for cookies.
