Heretical Fishing

Book 5: Chapter 37: Clang

Book 5: Chapter 37: Clang

Heretical Fishing

Corporal Claws—sharp of tooth, capable of violence, humble of heart—truly was a once-in-a-millennium talent. She took a deep breath of the forest air, so overwhelmed by her innumerable successes that a tear of lightning rolled down one furry cheek.

As she exhaled, she opened her eyes and gazed at the creation she’d nestled in this clearing. Bricks of clay, perfectly spaced. Mortar made of volcanic stone, covering the inside wall and impervious to heat. A tall metal chimney, requisitioned from the coffee roaster, that she would return when she was done here. Probably. All in all, the miniature forge appeared expertly built.

She chuckled to herself. Her master liked keeping her in the dark, did he? Two could play that game. She knew he was hiding something. Something important. Fischer thought he was sooo clever, withholding such electable secrets.

“Delectable, Mistress,” chittered RPM, one larcenous little paw drifting up to steal her electric teardrop. “Is what you meant to—”

Claws yanked him from her pocket and flung him forward. “Make yourself useful, cretin!”

He giggled, curled into a ball, and readily accepted the trajectory she had set him upon. His spherical form rocketed into the open mouth of the forge, where he became a blur. He rolled around within at blistering speed. The entire structure glowed with their combined power. The blue of his lightning body leaked into the outside world as he got even quicker, the nexus of the brick shining so bright it eclipsed the sun’s brilliance. The sound, too, was all-encompassing, her familiar’s soft “EEEeeeEEEeeeEEEeeeEEEeee” mixing with the loud hum of their elemental power.

But now wasn’t the time to consider such things. Something was forming within the electrified furnace. She slipped forward and stared into it, having to squint against the heat and potency radiating out. This abnormality, this source of mysterious power, was entirely unexpected. They’d only sought to create an area of high temperature, but for such an aberration to appear...

Claws flashed a vicious smile. It might be just what they needed.

She reached into her pocket, her digits closing around an object smooth and somehow cold. In a single blur of movement, she cast it into the forge. And almost immediately regretted doing so. The two powers collided, the light flickering like ten-thousand candles as the forces clashed.

The chain of tiny explosions was so potent that she initially assumed RPM had done something shifty in a misguided attempt to steal the chunk of lightning-infused fulgurite. But with every incremental clash of essence, she sensed the raccoon’s growing fear. Each burst was more unstable. Harder and harder to comprehend. They should stop the experiment here and now—only a fool would tussle with two mysterious powers at once.

She locked eyes with RPM on one of his rotations past the furnace’s glowing maw. His pupils shone with more panic and power than she’d ever seen. There was no time to exchange mental words, yet the terror plastered across his face was communication enough; he recognized the madness of wrestling two incomprehensible concepts at the same time.

She reached out with all the essence she had, just as she’d done so many times before when calling RPM back into her abdomen. His eyes flashed with relief. Claws winked. His brow creased in confusion, then rose in realization. She yanked herself forward and leaped into the furnace, a grinning cannonball of chaos and schadenfreude.

They bounced across the internal wall like shellfish over slick rocks. Whenever they strayed too close to the exit, the clashing powers drew them in with a gravitational pull that affected their very souls.

RPM’s acceptance came hard and fast. As strong as his horror was at being forced onto the battlefield of two unknown powers, his curiosity swept it aside with ease, followed soon after by the same elation radiating throughout Corporal Claws.

Soft chitters of laughter built within their chests, then tumbled out like a stack of opalescent rocks piled a little too high. They must have sounded absolutely unhinged if anyone was nearby—it certainly sounded so from within—but neither of them cared nor extinguished their formidable mirth.

RPM was the first to act. Once more rolling around the chamber in chaotic yet graceful arcs, he reached out with his will and stole what waves of force he could handle. Despite his larcenistic capabilities, most evaded his call, instead choosing to fight the other mysterious force. The fulgurite was particularly resistant, so he sent Claws a silent question, seeking her permission to focus on the energy of the furnace.

RPM had... sought permission? Claws had to stop a tear of lightning from forming in her eye, lest her familiar get distracted when he inevitably tried to steal it. She tucked herself into a ball, did her best to emulate the raccoon’s masterful movement, and let out an affirmative chirp.

The moment RPM focused on absorbing only the forge’s waves of power, things changed dramatically. Where before they were opposing forces, like two colorful fish fighting over a single anemone, now the forge fell into line, occupying the spaces between the fulgurite’s pulses of power. So too did Claws and RPM coexist, both intersecting each other’s paths without colliding.

Corporal Claws pounced, sinking into herself and pouring her will out. It slammed into the branch of fulgurite, whose form was starting to glow under the intense heat, its previously dormant tongues of electricity dancing like hungry flames. With a grin, she obliged. Her intention struck like a hammer, seeking to feed them. They rebuffed her with such admonishment that she almost faltered.

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The rejection felt physical, and she barely stopped herself from hitting her familiar when next their paths crossed. Worse, the feeling lingered, a sense of pointlessness suffusing her. Why had it hit so viscerally?

With her enhanced awareness, and using her curiosity as fuel, she assessed her emotional state. She had given her own mind and purpose much thought over the past months. She’d exaggerated her chaotic nature in the weeks leading up to the arrival of Fathom and Cal, intent on making Fischer believe she was capable of hurting others if that was what her identity as an aspect of chaos demanded. It was an easy lie because it was so close to the truth.

Given other circumstances, it was precisely who she might have been. Her relationship with Fischer had led to her forming bonds with others. Humans and animals both lived in harmony where possible, but the slightest deviation could lead to despair. And it was made worse when either awakened. With knowledge and power came responsibility. Had she never interacted so closely with such a variety of sapient beings, perhaps she would be content with enacting chaos on whomever or whatever she could.

But she could never be that otter. Not now. Though her nature yearned for it, she refused to willingly hurt others. Greatly, anyway. She’d never stop leaving sand in Barry’s belongings. Even thinking of the pranks he’d yet to find brought her great joy. Like the clump of manure she had hidden beneath the ointment he liked to moisturize his face with. Or the other clump of manure under that one.

Claws shook her head. Now wasn’t the time.

She had a nature demanding chaos, but her relationships stopped her from indulging in it. This internal conflict, if left untended, would surely cause problems down the line. Which was exactly why this creation was so pivotal. The ability to make items from artifacts that shouldn’t exist... it would scratch the chaotic itch in the depths of her soul. Even one weapon would be a source of infinite mayhem, and unlike her usual pranks, they could be used as a force for good in service of Tropica.

Claws scoffed at herself. No wonder the fulgurite’s refusal had hurt her otherwise unflappable sensibilities. It was a rejection of not only her, but her purpose too. She wanted this to work. Needed this fulgurite to accede to her demands. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, and allowed herself a small smile.

Rebuff her attempts at creation, would it? Let it try denying the full weight of her desires.

She gathered them deep within, envisioning the future she craved and letting it swirl around her abdomen. It flowed in an infinite loop, growing wider, gathering more potential with every lap of her mind and body. The fulgurite must have felt the impending strike—it, too, collected its essence. The pulses of chi coming from it got stronger.

The harmony between the two mysterious powers started to fall apart. RPM’s devious little forepaws lashed out, physically grasping the excess waves. He failed at first. But that only further ignited his ideal. Lightning fast, he pulled them into himself and contained them with his will before they could escape.

Claws wanted to grab the tricksy bastard by the cheeks and kiss him—platonically and consensually—right on the mouth. But she had her own role to play.

RPM’s “EEEeeeEEEeeeEEEeeeEEEeee” came even faster now, his body forming circular lines of light. Claws moved just as swiftly, the river of intent flowing around and around her core, sending her rocketing forward.

In her mind’s eye, another hammer formed, just as strong as the one she’d struck with earlier. Another appeared at its side. And two more beside them. On and on they stretched, an armory’s worth of blunt-force weapons forming a great circle around the fulgurite. The handles grew longer, allowing more leverage.

As one, they descended.

The first was denied, as were the second and third. The fourth and fifth bounced off too, but only after landing glancing blows. The tenth—or perhaps it was the eleventh—landed true, the natural artifact overwhelmed by the flurry. And the rest, hundreds upon hundreds of sledgehammers, all struck with terrible accuracy, reshaping the fulgurite in the image of her will. Sparks flew. The sound was deafening. Heat greater than an active volcano came from the forge.

Claws relented not. The first hammer swung down again, as did all those that followed. She’d envisioned a certain shape, but as the forge’s light shone over her creation’s imperfect faces, she was struck by their beauty, altering her design on the fly. Rather than smooth and uniform, she let the hammer strikes leave facets in their wake.

When the object started to blur, her stomach sank, then was driven lower by the fear of failure. But then she realized what was happening. The System. It had come to aid its transformation. Just as she’d heard and felt her master do so many times before, Claws imagined the outcome she desired, imperfections and all.

The universe obeyed. All at once, the blurry outline snapped into place, gleaming, brilliant, perfect despite its ‘flaws’. RPM came to a stop beside her in the bottom of the forge, and they stared at the weapon together. So immense was RPM’s awe that he didn’t try to steal it. Not immediately, anyway. He did attempt to yoink it a moment later, but Claws easily held him at bay with one paw.

She clutched her creation and slunk out into the clearing with great care, her body shivering from overexertion and disbelief. She lifted the physical manifestation of her chaotic nature high. Sunlight filtered down through the canopy, and as it reflected off the reflected off the blade’s multifaceted surface, it finally hit her. She had succeeded. Claws, a mere elemental, had used a resource that shouldn’t be to create something impossible, all without anyone discover—

She sensed a fluctuation in the nearby chi.

Claws cast about, scanning the trees in search of interlopers. When she found none, she extended her already fatigued will. Who dared sneak up on the queen of trickery? Still she found noone. She must have imagined it. Suddenly, the laughter came. It burst from her throat in breathless chitters. RPM joined in, and together they let the sounds of their complete victory roll out. Her familiar tried to steal her the weapon once more time, but gave up when she threatened to stab him with it.

All the while, the System had tugged at her mind, demanding she inspect the newly formed item. Claws took a deep breath. The air smelled sweeter, and unlike before, it wasn’t just her imagination.

Still grinning, she finally gave in, letting her eyes drift up toward—

Clanggg!