Friend and Foe

—Valor Thann368

Friend and Foe

“Twice! You bombed his planet twice!” Rose threw her head back and let out a piercing laugh. “And now he has a permanent vendetta against you and Adam. You've got to be fucking with me. You absolutely have to. Roland, this shit is priceless.”

The Lady of Blackedge was a passionate flame. She combusted easily, not only from impulses of anger, but from incentives of joy. But while she laughed, Roland's face grew dark with worry as he considered the consequences of the story. “And this Lord Scorn is the same Lord Scorn who will be coming for our Gate in the future, per Adam's Quest?”

“Yep,” Shiv grunted. “Just another piece of shit that keeps climbing back up the pipe.”

Rose’s laughter grew, her amusement fanned by the metaphor, while Roland’s troubled heart grew ever more laden with worry. “And we need to prepare. Start preparing right now. Wait, why does he know Adam by name and call you the ?”

Shiv coughed. “Uh, some psychological warfare stuff.”

Roland gave a suffering sigh.

“You thought we were trouble, huh?” Rose teased him. “Look at the kids putting us all to shame.”

“We trouble,” Roland shot back. “I still am. The System’s favor still burns within me, but how can I compare to someone who possesses the power to return from death?”

“Get a little more reckless?” Rose suggested, draping an arm around Roland’s neck.

He squinted at her. “It is a small mercy the System didn't give you his Path.”

Rose gave him an impish grin. “Yeah, cause if it did, I'd tear some shit up and keep tearing shit up.” She shot Shiv an approving look. “Oh, the amount of people a couple Tiers above me I'd tell to go fuck themselves…”

“You've never had a problem doing that. A Path won’t change that.”

“Hm.” Rose frowned and seemed to remember a few instances of her insulting Legends to their face. “Yeah. But hey, you’d need to save me less.”

Roland just shook his head. “No. Just the thought of you in pain is too much for me to bear. Deathless or not, no one is to touch you.”

“Only you, huh—how possessive you are, Master Arrow…” Rose’s voice dropped to what Shiv could only assume to be a seductive growl at the end.

Roland said nothing. He didn't need to. Shiv saw how Roland's Adam's apple was bobbing back and forth, how both their emotional cores came ablaze, not with hate or anger, though that still remained there for what the Challenger did to their son. Instead, a new emotion came to the fore, and its name was lust. It was clingy. It was desperate, but it was freeing and joyous—twin infernos in two hearts reaching out to become one once more.

Meanwhile, Shiv did his best impression of Valor, who loomed close behind yet never truly intruded, his presence as thin as a ghost despite no skills being used.

But Shiv's pleas were not answered. Worse, Adam's gaze seemed more vacant than before, and that drew a resurgence of worry within Shiv. To finally cap off this growing calamity, Shiv felt someone press a hand against his back. Valor leaned over his shoulder and cast a thought via a tendril of translucent mana.

Sweat began to pour down Shiv's face

The twin Necromantic flames behind Valor's magic-shaped eyeballs twinkled, casting his dark-skinned visage in a sinister glow.

Shiv's spirit spasmed so hard the Harbinger nearly shattered.

Valor intoned, patting him on the back before stepping away again.

To Shiv's considerable delight, Roland and Rose did not consummate their affection amidst this time of grief. If Adam had any awareness of what was happening around him, this also spared him the helping of brutal psychological trauma in watching his parents make up for lost time while his mutilated skull continued gushing blood. To endure such an atrocity would likely shatter him completely—or at least add a layer of disgust on top of the madness he had to endure.

Shiv thought to himself.

As Adam let out another gasping wheeze, Rose and Roland broke apart, sharing a concerned look for their son. Adam's condition didn't worsen, but there was only so much suffering someone could take before something inside them shattered. His agony turned his parents' desires into fleeting smoke. Once more, their affections for each other were overwhelmed by a new, higher emotion: a greater love, one that was directed toward Adam, one that was further alchemized into grief.

The stories Shiv told of what they'd lived through these past months, from their reunion in Weave to their escape from the Rubix Well and everything after, only amplified their affection toward him. He was never greater in their eyes, never more lovable, never more impressive, never more perfect than right now. And though that strengthened their sorrow as well, there was a spark of hope building amidst everything. For if Adam had survived all the calamities that had come before, why could he not endure now? Why could he not defy the System's will and spite the gods one more time? He'd done so with Lord Scorn and Evanescia. He'd survived so many things.

Why should he fail now?

Rose and Roland drew close to their son. They pressed their hands upon his brow, uncaring of the blood that soaked their hands. The sheets and pillows, enchanted with self-cleaning magics, struggled to keep up with all the blood spilling out from Adam, but it seemed like he'd achieved some measure of stability, if it could even be called that. He was quiet now, his mutters barely more than a whisper, his eyes distant and growing further so.

“I wish I was there with you,” Roland choked. “I wish I was there to protect you. I wish I was there to see what you did, to see who you became. We didn't have enough time. I didn't… I should have been a stronger father. A better father.” The pain threatened to overtake him. “There will never be enough time. I will always want to be with you and your mother. I will always regret—”

Roland was interrupted as a snaking tendril of Psychomancy slithered into his mind. His eyes widened and then narrowed, and then a soft breath escaped him.

“What?” Rose asked before Shiv could. “What's wrong?”

“It's… Jessica. She wishes to come and pay her respects.” Roland’s demeanor grew grim. “Or so she claims.”

“Nah, she’s not lying,” Shiv said. “The only person she really does that to is herself. If she was going to do something with you, Roland, and she is going to do something with you eventually, she'd do it face-to-face. She'd try to cut you down straight up. That’s who she is. And you should get that. You’ve known her longer than I have.”

“No.” Roland shook his head. “If there's something you'll learn, Shiv, it's that with the passage of time, you don't really know anyone. Not even yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, people change, but I'm telling you right now, Roland, she's not going to try to assassinate you. She won't do it, not with Valor here, not with me here. She's not going to get any relief out of killing you like this. That’s what she’s looking for—relief. I guess that’s what almost everyone is looking for at some point.” Shiv paused. “I'm not telling you to do anything. This is your house. It should be your decision. Adam's your son. And I might not even be right. Whatever happened between you two might just make her angry enough for her to break the rules of hospitality. It doesn't seem like that to me, but I don't know enough to be sure. All I can say, though, is that I think she's genuine, and I think what happened to Adam did something to her. She's probably honest about wanting to pay respects, but she also probably wants to figure out what you did to her daughter or whatever happened there.”

Roland’s eyes grew distant and dark, almost as distant as Adam's, but then Roland bowed his head, and something inside him surrendered. Something inside him didn't have the strength to care anymore. He sent the Psychomantic tendril back a second later and rose to his feet. A comet of incandescent flame speared through the ceiling, yet melted not a whit, and crashed down upon Roland, crowning him in a blaze of fiery magic and enveloping him in plates of gleaming bright armor.

Once more, the past and present overlapped. Shiv remembered being in this chamber, remembered Roland calling upon his hawk and arming himself for the first time. The Town Lord had struck down countless assassins before Shiv could even come close to reacting. The Omenborn boy had thought him a god in the flesh at the time—and loathed him for being so unreachable. Now, however, Roland wasn't quite so invincible in Shiv's eyes. He was even pitiable.

But of all the things he was, a fool was not one of them.

“Better safe than sorry,” Shiv said, signaling his approval. He noted how Roland remained unarmed despite sporting a full set of plates. His pauldrons burned with the glow of gleaming hawk-heads. Rows of gleaming chain mail were riveted in the shape of plumage, and twin wings that could turn the world afire were furled back and disguised as a cape. “Armor but no arms. Good idea.”

“I just don’t want to give her the wrong idea,” Roland said. Shiv noted the crushing nervousness and frustration inside him.

Almost no regret, though… and he'd supposedly killed Jessica’s daughter.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Roland,” Shiv said, trying to process his surprise. “Did she have it coming? What did she do?”

“What?” Roland gasped, looking up at Shiv, eyes wide from shock, but not confusion.

“What did she do? Because I know you don’t kill for no reason, and there’s not a hint of grief for her inside you.” Shiv stared him down, and the False Master-Tier Pathbearer looked away. “I’m not judging you. You’ve done right by practically everyone but me. You’ve never blemished your goodness anywhere else. I’m not attacking you. I just want to know. Because better safe than sorry, right? And I’m the one with a pre-Legendary Skill. Unless you can evolve one right now with that Unique Skill of yours.”

“I can’t,” Roland admitted without any shame. “I don’t have your legend. And I can’t risk a Delve.”

And that inadvertently revealed a few more things about Roland, mainly that he could get to Legendary if he wanted simply by moving a few levels around; however, he needed to Delve every single time, and that wasn't something he could risk, with all the enemies he had.

Shiv accepted Roland’s words. “Alright. Well. Whatever you did, I want to know that I don’t doubt you. Telling you this right now so my Harbinger doesn’t accidentally crack you or something.”

“It can do that?” Roland replied, betraying a hint of terror.

“Shit, it’s been ripping me up all godsdamned day. I would be dead without Uva drinking the poison out from me.”

And she took that chance to chime in.

Shiv sighed.

He felt his words exert a pull on her, and though there was a stubborn piece of her that wanted to see things through on her own, Uva mastered herself and sent him a ping of acknowledgement.

Just in time too, as the platform to Roland’s personal quarters descended—but Jessica bypassed that by teleporting into the room with Rusty. A gash of dimensional mana unzipped a gap in existence, and the Giantsbane stepped through, crossing over from the very base of the castle to its apex with a single, horizontal step.

Jessica's core boiled at the sight of Roland. She despised him in a dull, aching way—with a weary hate that she was pursuing with the full extent of her half-wake heart, filled perpetually with an old sadness so calcified it might as well have been concrete.

The Harbinger's words were filled with genuine heartbreak. It was a skill meant to bear the burden of sympathy, which was a blade that forever cut in two directions.

“Jessica,” Roland began.

But she strode right past him and Shiv. She remained at her baseline height, barely reaching Roland's shoulder, even though he wasn't a particularly tall man. Despite the animosity she still held toward him, her eyes and focus weren't on him. Instead, she did what she'd claimed to have come here to do: offer Adam her respects.

“Ascendants. Look at what that orc fuck did to you, kid.” Jessica sniffled. Her heart became a complicated interplay of emotions. Shiv sensed that she saw a glimmer of Roland in him, and that inspired her loathing, but it faded just as fast as she realized the boy looked like Rose as well. Her gaze scythed away from the bleeding boy in the bed and settled upon his mother. Jessica's illest tidings melted at the sight of her old friend. “Sorry, Rose. I tried. I did what I could, but it seems that I just keep fucking things up when they matter. It’s just your kid who paid the price this time.”

“Shut the fuck up, you dumb bitch,” Rose snapped. Then she stepped across the room and snatched Jessica off the ground and into an embrace. “Thanks for coming. Despite everything.”

Jessica mumbled something incoherent into Rose's chest and then made a sudden raspberry—causing Rose to let out a bark of laughter—and they pulled apart.

Jessica shot Adam another grimace before she shook her head. “Alright, I didn't come here to bullshit any of you. I've been speaking to Veronica. Asking if she might have any way of fixing him. And before you get pissed off about that, I want to know what your other options are, because right now it seems like we got jack and shit going for us.”

She technically wasn't wrong, but Shiv's mood soured at her admission. “I would have liked a heads up.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, then her gaze settled on Roland ever so briefly, and that dull, tired anger inside of her began to move like a landslide approaching its inevitable destination. “We all would like something. Doesn’t always work out that way. Speaking of, grandma wants me to deliver you a message, kid.”

“Don’t call her that,” Shiv said. “You have to be someone's mom to be a grandmother, and she was never even that.”

“She wants to know what the fuck you did to Longinus,” Jessica continued, ignoring Shiv's retort. “Because right now he's screaming. He’s borderline insane with pain—worse than even the kid here. Nothing they can do to fix him. Nothing they can do to reduce the pain. According to Veronica, he doesn't even have a mind left at all, and the other Ascendants are raring to round up some Avatars and smash through your surface gateway if they don’t get a proper answer.”

“Well, I should have seen that coming,” Shiv grumbled. “It’s never just one thing. Look, it’s complicated, but I’ll explain everything to Veronica. To make a complicated story short, a portion of Longinus—and what I guess was his actual consciousness—got destroyed due to Fae fuckery, and then a part of his soul got twisted up by some eldritch bullshit. That’s the glowing egg you saw earlier. A copy of Georges is in that as well.”

Shiv sculpted the truth with every statement he spat. He wasn't technically being dishonest, but he was also distancing himself from the chain of events because the last thing he needed right now was to fight even all the Ascendants after barely surviving a battle with Longinus. He latched on to Jessica's incredulity before she could demand further elaboration. “And before you ask, yeah, we're partially to blame, but it wasn't up to us. You ask Veronica if she knows about someone called the Usurper-Narrator, and you tell her that we were just characters in someone else’s story.”

As soon as he said that, he felt a painful tug drag him from beyond this dimension. Evanescia still had a portion of his soul burning in the Watchtower, however that worked. Him and Uva both. The only reason why they weren't fully assimilated was because of their Unique Skills, and even then, the Watchtower still exerted some influence over them.

A sputter of exhaustion escaped Jessica. “Broken fucking Moon, kid. You were gone for what, a couple days at most? How do you keep getting into this much shit?”

“Have you tried being actually favored for once?” Shiv taunted.

The height-challenged Legend flipped him off.

Shiv fired back with both hands.

“Rusty, help!” she shouted in pretend panic.

The sword heeded her call and hovered over her head as the blade turned into a curve, doing its best imitation of a middle finger.

But Shiv wasn't outgunned, for he had a new hand to deploy. Almost without thinking about it at all, the Red Rider's Hand drifted closer and extended its middle digit once more. The massive appendage, burning with violence and vitality, caused the room to tremble from its merest movements. Roland took a step back. Valor regarded the hand with worry. Rose stepped closer to Adam, prepared to shield him, and Jessica went pale. “Okay, I've been meaning to ask this, but there was too much other shit first… Is that the Challenger's right hand?”

“Yep,” Shiv said nonchalantly. He refused to acknowledge the hand much, for it seemed to have a will of its own, and it burned with dark desires and violent delights. “Wait, actually no. The Challenger lost the hand, and since he was trying to do whatever with my soul, it ended up getting integrated with me, so technically it's my hand now.”

Jessica tried really, really hard not to gawk at him. “But that’s… that’s bullshit. You can’t just absorb the hand of a god. Wait, how did you even cut it off in the first place?”

“By trying really, really hard,” Shiv deadpanned.

A flood of frustration bubbled inside Jessica like building steam. “Fuck you, be serious. How did you do that?”

“I am being serious.”

“Bullshit! If I couldn't cut him apart, how did manage, twerp?”

“I don't know, maybe you just didn't try hard enough. Maybe I'm stronger than you. Your biceps really aren't anything to write home about, so it wouldn't surprise me.”

“You mother—” She briefly tensed and then used her Psychology skill to dissolve the first sparks of budding rage. “I know what you're trying to do. I see you, you little shit.”

“I mean, one of us is little.”

“Kill… me…” Adam groaned.

Jessica stomped up to Shiv and reached up to jam her index finger into his chest. “Eat shit, and tell me how you got the hand”

“I told you just now,” Shiv replied, adding a dash of worry to his demeanor. “I know you're getting up in the years, Jess, but is this a hearing or a memory issue? I could ask Helix to do a brain check on you.”

Once more, she had to use her Psychology Skill to dissolve her ire. “Really? You're gonna be that way with me right now?”

“I might have to hit you with the hand in the future. You know, in case you decide to help the Ascendants invade the Gate. I'm going to need every advantage I can get so that you don't end up kicking my ass.”

A chain of incoherent noises slipped out from Jessica. “Okay, if you can beat up the Challenger, then why do you need his arm to fight me off? There's something wrong with the power hierarchy here, kid. This picture you painted is hanging a little crooked on the wall.”

“Or maybe I just didn't try that hard while fighting you before.” Shiv shrugged. “Felt bad for you. Didn't wanna make you all depressed.”

For the briefest of milliseconds, Jessica wanted to stab him more than Roland.

But as fun as annoying her was, Shiv decided to take pity. “Look, to be honest, I don't even know how the hand works. It was just attached to me after I woke up, and if you want to know how I managed to cut it off, well, that's some kind of weird time magic thing. I can't explain it in detail either. I can barely move the hand. It's got its own will, and it just follows me around.” He finally shot the offending limb a glare. It tilted slightly and aimed its middle finger at him. “And I would have chopped the damn thing off the moment I saw it if I could. There's nothing I want from the Challenger. Nothing.”

The substance that comprised Jessica's core went from irritation to sympathy in a nigh instant. “Yeah. I get you. But fuck me, your life is a never-ending chain of… fuck.”

“Pretty good summary.” Shiv nodded. “Thing is, though, I'm never the one who pays for all this chaos; just the people around me. And I don't think that's ever going to let up. Not without a lot more power or some ability to control what happens around me.”

Jessiva sighed. “Look, ignore the shit I said earlier. Rose is right. The Challenger beat the shit out of all of us. That wasn't on you. Hells, maybe you're the only reason we got out of it. I don't know how you did it, and if you're not lying, you don't know either, but you know what? I'm not going to look a gift sword along the tip.”

“This has nothing to do with self-blame,” Shiv said—and then let out a snarl of pain as something inside him tore.

the Harbinger cried.

Once more, there was a consequence for feeling one way and thinking another. Not even Uva could guard him against such self-devastation.

Shiv lost his balance and stumbled. Three different people moved to catch him at the same time. Valor got to him first, but Jessica wasn’t far behind—and Roland arrived in the same instant. Together, they prevented his collapse, and Shiv would’ve been ever-grateful—if only he wasn’t suffering a sundering of mind, heart, and flesh.

His lower abdomen had been pulled apart. Vitae spilled free, staining the air with vibrant crimson.

“What the fuck was that?” Jessica cried, barely noticing how close to Roland she was. How easy would it be to send Rusty through his head while he was distracted? Though the temptation was there, she saw Shiv was watching and decided to rein in her wrathful considerations.

He managed a smirk despite his spiritual guts spilling out. “Oh, that was just Harbinger of Tripartite Ruin, a pre-Legendary Skill Fusion of Berserk, Striking Proficiency, Silver Tongue, Psychology, Chronomancy, and Psychomancy.”

“I’m gonna fucking throw up. Six skills—I’m gonna throw up.” Jessica began gagging exaggeratedly. “What the ever-loving fuck even is the Fairwoods? And how much other bullshit do you have hiding up your ass?”

“Ask me when the pain passes,” Shiv groaned. “Great. I need to start siphoning vitality again.”

“But you will recover from this?” Roland asked.

Shiv coughed and tried to straighten his back. “Of course.”

“Felling hells.” Jessica sighed. “You know something? I think I figured out your actual problem. You keep throwing yourself into all the problems. You try to handle everything. You see, if you were back at the Republic, they would have you under lock and key. You'd be guarded by the most elite of the office—”

“Office?” Shiv asked.

“The Inquisition. And Veronica would see you trained by all the best Legends and see you fed and happy and properly taken care of with no expense spared; you would have an army of people to boss around.”

“Sounds like hell.” Shiv paused. “Unless I have an army of people in the kitchen, in which case hells yeah, let's do that.”

“Look, I'm not trying to talk you into giving yourself up or anything like that. Not entirely. What I am saying, though, is that you don't have anywhere near the support you need. You needed an army; you got a bunch of orcs, and look at where that got you. You need more than just a couple of people here. This stuff keeps happening to you because you don't have anyone else to come bail you out. A couple Legends are great to have, but they don’t make up a real army. We can’t hold ground or clean up all the problems. Even with your escaped prison buddies, there’s only a few of us. What you guys need right now is a layer of insulation. Something to keep the storm at bay while you hunker down for a while.”

“And where are we going to find that?” Shiv mumbled. “Weave? They don’t have enough people. The Composer’s probably sparing all she can. The orcs are… We can still use them. Fucked up as it is. We just have to—”

“Wait,” Roland cut Shiv off. A sudden realization lit up his face. “Orcs… The orcs here are tied to the Culturist, their Maestro. If he is severed from the Challenger’s influence, and your ritual is still active, that means they aren’t attacking—”

“Lone Star!” Jessica gasped, realization dawning on her face. “Oh, . It's Summer right now! Lone Star’s fucking free! For the first time in… forever!”

And a final piece of the puzzle snapped into place within Shiv’s mind. “And we got a way straight into the Tutorial. We got a Slipgate too…”

Everyone went quiet at the same time.

“Hey, I think we should call a group meeting or something,” Shiv said. “Small council. Uh. Get Hymn. And Still Water. Veronica too. Valor—I want the Five Faiths to send representatives as fast as they can. Descenders especially. And I’m going to need someone to make a trip—”

“I’ll go,” Roland said. “I know the people there. Many among them owe me more than blood or mithril can ever repay. And we have the Culturist as well. I know they would want him—especially in his current vulnerable state. If not for me, they’ll come to see about him.”

Shiv winced at that. He knew the Legendary orc had done a lot of wrong, but to use him as bait this way felt—well, it was smart.

“I’m not letting them kill him,” Shiv clarified. “Not until he comes out of the delve and gets to plead his case.”

Roland did a double-take. “He’s an orc. He’s—”

“Adam didn’t burn the itch out of him for nothing. I don’t give a shit if he dies, but would Adam let someone he saved from a poison of the soul die for his past, vile nature?” Roland went quiet. He knew Shiv was right. “But yeah. Tell them. And try to get them to come quickly. I think… I think I have an idea for the Gate. I think I can help Adam with his Gate Quest too.”

And as the pain faded, Shiv felt a sneer paint his heart instead.

These Words of Truth and Adoration 73 > 75

Scheming Bastard 15 > 19