The Song of Wormwood

Another stray. He just has to collect them all!

Shady rubbed her aching temples with a dark, furred hand, closing her eyes.

Deep, unnerving pain radiated from the base of her antlers down to the marrow of her bones. It felt as though someone had taken a sledgehammer to her soul and then tried to glue the pieces back together with cheap duct tape.

Multiple-soul-shard-resurrection and Astral Fountain sickness was a misery she would not wish on her worst enemy… Well, maybe she’d wish it on her Aunt. Evely deserved everything terrible that was coming to her now that her hoard was obliterated.

When Shady opened her eyes, the Soviet 1950’s cafe looked monochromatic, slightly blurred at the edges as if viewed through deep water. The tables were gray. The food on the plates looked like piles of dust. Ash and the dog prad were also gray and blurry, the voices of their conversation muted.

“Eh?” she voiced.

“I pulled us a bit deeper in the Astral, three quarters out of Laika’s dream,” Sage explained. “Because someone can’t play nice. Feel free to shout at each other and demand answers, such won’t interrupt the doggo seduction now.”

Seduction?!

Shady felt her innards wobble and churn with the breath of the Entropic abyss, like waves of all-swallowing, boiling, yet ice-cold ocean striking her being again and again, demanding her to devour everyone here, to break their necks, to claw off their smug faces… starting with the annoying, far too happy fox.

Ash was hers! HERS! Who was this Skinwalker to boss her around? Things were so nice just a few days ago when she had her best friend all to herself… when they were watching monster movies together, cracking jokes, cuddling… sharing snacks.

She blinked sparks of tears from her eyes, struggling to focus on the present, fighting against the pull of the abyssal void tearing at her insides from every direction.

FOCUS, Slayer-damn it. Focus!!!Why is everyone fucking with me today? What’s Nexxali even up to that spooked Galateya?

Shady tried to read the Serval’s mind but her hooks wobbled and flailed randomly, failing to hold onto anything coherent, only catching general feline confidence and smugness. The Serval prad must have felt her suffering because she slid closer to Shady and started massaging the Wendigo’s shoulders. This relaxed her ever so slightly, stopping Shady from lunging at the Skinwalker’s throat.

“We are keeping this… mutt then?” Shady stated.

“Liberating and claimin’,” Sage affirmed. “Thieving her from Saint Nikky.”

“And Saint Nikky is who?”

“Saint Nikky is the free range agent that Ex-Admiral Evely hired to kill us all,” Nexxali explained. “A Krampus Omnid.”

“Nikky intends to seed this lovely Earth with dungeon bloom,” Sage clarified, “called the Coniferous Conversion. Her warship is a mobile dungeon with Seeds and nine Sentinels capable of turning all organic matter into festive decorations and sucking the souls of the dead up into itself like a bigly vacuum. It’s like Lady Liberty vacuum from Spaceballs, but worse. Laika is Saint Nikky’s navigator, a blood-pact bound prad.”

“Abyss,” Shady groaned. She expected some sort of retaliation from her aunt but summoning a fucking mobile dungeon?

Was Aunt Evely completely insane?

“More desperate than insane,” Nexxali said, catching Shady’s thoughts rushing through her. “Evely simply hired a professional hunter-executioner to solve the problem of her fall from grace. The dungeon-ship vacuum is news to me.”

Shady grunted.

Why was her family full of warmongering idiots?

Then she noted that Galateya was still staring at Nexxali with a bothered expression.

“Spill it, cat,” Shady grunted at her feline Knight after a moment of irate contemplation. “What’d you do that’s bugging the dragon?”

“You know what I did, no?” Nexxali asked. “We’ve been sharing our minds for a while now.”

“My hooks are wobbly as fuck and I have a migraine the size of Jupiter, so I’d prefer it if you didn’t flap around,” Shady ground out, “be clear and concise.”

“Aight.” Nexxali nodded and resumed kneading the Wendigo. “Twenty years ago, on Desolada, my grandmother sat me down on her lap. She was old and only somewhat sane. She had the Future-Sight, the kind that drives you mad if you don’t sing it out. She told me I was the Song of the Wormwood Star.”

“Uh-huh, and?” Shady stated.

“She said I carried the tune of the End Times in my soul, that I was cursed with Everything, that the more I would sing, the more reality would decay around me because absolute, pure entropy lived in the shadows I cast. At first, it scared the shit out of me, but then… I got curious.”

“Curiosity killed the kitten,” Sage commented, making Nexxali’s smirk widen.

“When the Frontenachii came, I joined them, departing from my doomed world, hoping to slow its decay if I was gone. Eventually, as I moved up the ranks, I got access to all of the secret archives. I wanted to know what in the Abyss the Wormwood Star actually was, beyond the Desolada Song-Lore. I monitored the corpse worlds we visited, chatted with the Archmages and Lords our Fleet dominated. I gradually pried information out of the Legates. I talked at length with Ixthia, Keeper Morrígan and Admiral Evelithria. I asked anyone of wisdom, Astral sight and power about the Slayer and the Leviathan.”

Galateya crossed her arms, staring at Sage with a judging expression.

“They all believed the same thing,” Nexxali resumed. “Different flavors, same dish. They believed the Slayer and the Leviathan are a cycle. A predetermined loop of Systemfall. Magic blooming from magic, the rules gradually decaying from too many spells being used in one place. A system reset button for dying dimensions. The Leviathan eats the rot of a world that’s reached its magical threshold of entropy. The Slayer kills the Leviathan. Life blooms from the blood. Round and round it goes.”

“‘Das the general Omnid lore, ya.” Sage nodded.

“Through the years of Lore-digging, I realized something. If I was the Song… then I also could be the conductor. I didn’t have to just sing of doom. I could compose the melody, wield entropy like a blade, slice away undesirable futures.”

“I slice away undesirable futures by making good choices daily like drinking fresh milk,” Sage commented.

“I used my Riffweld,” Nexxali said. “I sang to myself. For years. I bent my own path. I set myself on a trajectory to become… the Leviathan.”

“You what?” Shady asked, opening one eye to stare at her feline Knight. “The fuck?”

“Bigly plans,” Sage commented.

“That’s… what I thought I felt,” Galateya stated. “Now, why in the Abyss would you want to be the world-eating dragon with infinite eyes and arms?”

“The Leviathan can only exist at the end of everything in a, urhm, liminal domain without time or space, between the beginning and the end of reality,” Nexxali clarified. “I wanted to be… More like… the Leviathan’s Avatar in a linear body.”

“Sounds like a self fulfilling prophecy,” Galateya said. “You started with Riffweld aligned with Entropy and you, what, aligned your soul with greater Astral decay, dug a hole in yourself?”

“Noppers. Aligning myself with entropy would indeed decay my soul too much,” Nexxali grinned. “Instead, I dug in the other direction. I hunted, created the… Slayer, dug a probability hole towards him.”

“You fucking what?” Shady repeated as Galateya simply stared.

“To be the Leviathan, I needed a Slayer. But I didn’t want an armed Slayer. Armed Slayers are dangerous, can cut through anything in their way, I was told. I wanted a Slayer I could work with. A swordless, extra-linear Slayer… in my paws.”

She pointed a claw at the blurry, gray Ash chatting with the dog.

“No, come on,” Galateya let out. “Ash can’t be THE Slayer. That’s… blasphemy of the highest order!”

“I’m an atheist,” Nexxali shrugged. “I’ve met far too many self-declared gods and slain them with the Third Fleet’s warships and Seekers. Manufacturing the Slayer is possible with the right approach.”

“But…” Galateya let out, visibly bothered by the feline’s revelations. “Ash is… just a human with no powers.”

“Correct,” Nexxali said. “Just as I intended. You think that I’d want to deal with a Slayer with powers? No way. I wanted my Slayer to be… manageable, cute… human, a magical null.”

“You cannot just… manufacture a cosmic entity,” Galateya protested. “The Slayer is chosen by the System! By the Abyss! He arises when everything, everyone dies.”

“The Abyss is uncaring and inefficient,” Nexxali shot back. “I cleared the path. I brought the Third Fleet here, nudged Evely to take this job instead of the Second Fleet. I removed the obstacles. I made sure Ash met the right people. I made sure he got the sword.”

“Sounds like you manipulated him,” Galateya accused. “And… us.”

“Nu-huh. I ensured our survival,” Nexxali said. “If Ash becomes the Slayer, he won’t slay me. He will break the cycle. He will find a third option. He already broke the Slayer’s Sword. He is doing exactly what I want him to do.”

Sage hummed, tapping her chin. “So… you are manifesting, what, a custom apocalypse? Systemfall, where we win?”

“No apocalypses,” Nexxali wagged her ginger finger. “No Systemfalls. The Slayer arises when entropy reaches its peak. This extra-linear dimension decays blood contracts, makes magic difficult. Nothing is going to arise here. There will be no Leviathan to slay.”

Shady let out a bark of laughter. “That is it? That’s the bigly reveal?”

Nexxali blinked. ”…Yes?”

“I thought you were going to tell us that you unintentionally sold us out to the Stabalists or some other party,” Shady scoffed. She rubbed her eyes and yawned wide. “You wanted to be the big bad dragon because you’re a cute, lil’ kitty. You wanted Ash to be the hero of legends. You used your voice to stack the deck. So what?”

“So what?” Galateya gaped at the Wendigo. “She is tampering with fundamental forces of existence! She is risking—”

“She is playing the game,” Shady cut the feisty dragon off. “My family does it all the time. We hoard mountains of artifacts to bend reality. Nexxali used Entropic Riffweld instead of a big pile of magic junk. It is clever. Funny even…”

“Why, thank you, Princess.” The Serval made a small bow.

“Ashy is the person that’s least likely to become the Slayer,” Shady added, “that much is true. I had to defend him from a spider once.”

Nexxali giggled.

“Do not get too comfortable, kitty,” Shady warned, “if your plan gets Ash hurt… I will eat you. Slowly. This whole ‘Emperor of Earth’ business keeps putting him in danger, in a position of great power which actually might turn him into the Slayer. I ran away to this planet to get away from my family and highborn responsibilities, to have a chill life. I’m having the opposite of a chill life right now. This isn’t the slice of life adventure I wanted.”

Galateya pursed her lips.

“He broke the sword tho’,” Nexxali pointed out.

“He broke a starship,” Shady said. “That’s not exactly the same thing.”

“And?” Nexxali challenged. “This Earth is extra-Linear. This is the least likely place where I could melt into the Leviathan. Is my home now, my safety net.”

“It won’t be very linear if the Greens infest it with Dryads,” Galateya pointed out.

“All the more reason to stop the Sixth Fleet,” Sage commented.

“We just learned that there’s a fucking dungeon hovering over the planet. What if he goes into that Sleigh and finds a two dimensional sword? The more we do, the worse the situation seems to escalate,” Shady groaned. “I don’t like how quickly things are blooming into a shitstorm. I don’t like how many thirsty women are orbiting around my Ashy. I’m in a fuckton of pain and the entropy-infected parts of my soul are screaming for your blood.”

“No bite the fox please,” Sage stated.

“I’m trying not to,” Shady growled, her entire body undulating, stretching, blossoming with black feathers, fingers elongated blade-like claws. “You’re NOT making it easier!”

Shady dug her claws into the gray table until the wood splintered under her grip. The urge to lunge forward and sink her teeth into Sage’s throat sang, thrummed in her veins like a second, darker heartbeat.

Was she truly that jealous of the fox? No… It was a biological imperative driven by the holes in her soul where the entropy took hold. The fox smelled like life and warmth. She smelled like an ocean of magic, too many delicious souls in one place.

She smelled like a tasty snack that could patch the numerous cracks in Shady’s shattered psyche.

“Control yourself, Princess,” Galateya commanded.

The dragon girl placed a hand on Shady’s trembling forearm.

A shock of cold clarity rushed through Shady. It felt like plunging into a still, glacier-fed lake. The frost spread from Galateya’s touch, freezing the boiling black mud of Shady’s agitation. The wobbly, jagged feathers receding into her skin felt like needles withdrawing.

“I am controlling myself,” Shady hissed. “I am sitting here as calmly as I can. I am not eating the fox. That is the definition of fucking control.”

“You are leaking,” Sage observed, fox eyes flickering all around her in concentric rings spreading into endless wings. “Your aura looks like a cracked oil pan. You are dripping void-stuff all over the Astral.”

Shady glared at the Skinwalker. “Maybe if you stopped being so appetizingly annoying, I would leak less!”

“I cannot help it.” Sage shrugged. “I am naturally yummy. You’re leaking because you’re hurt. This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that you’re starving for energy to repair those cracks.”

“Yes,” Shady ground out. “I need to… scare Ashy. Come on… Let me… frighten him just a little… It’ll make me less snappy.”

Nexxali sighed, intensifying her kneading and purring.

“No,” Galateya said. “It won’t. You’re hurt too much.”

“Ugh,” Shady crossed her arms. “You all suck.”

“What if I could offer you a hearty feast to suck on?” Sage asked with a foxy grin.

“What feast?” Shady’s skull-face snapped to the fox, white teeth clacking.

“This feast,” Sage pointed a colorful claw at the dog chatting with Ash. “Her. Laika.”