Let's Play The Spirit Engine 2
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Chapter 6: On Top of the World
Part 1: Halfway There
These bothersome feet kept me up for half the night with their aching and throbbing. They've been this way for two months now, and show no sign of improvement.
Never mind. I suppose I must add them to an ever-growing list of ailments to endure.
Listen to yourself, you old fool! There are so many your age who would envy this health. So many friends that never made it this far. Arthur Garhain, Ethan Tranmere, Jacob Hargreaves. And now, perhaps, dear old Percy.
I can see them standing at the chanellor's coronation as if it were only yesterday. A resplendent wall of armor glittering in the sun, effortlessly carrying the hopes of a nation on our shoulders.
We were all so young and so full of hope back then. There were blue blossoms in the wind, and a young girl in the crowd suprised Hargreaves with a wreath of flowers and a kiss.
But I can't for the life of me recall what day of the week it was, or who gave the main speech. It's funny what you remember and what you forget.
Speaking of forgetting - good grief, is that the time? I was meant to meet the others for breakfast half an hour ago. I must get downstairs.
I'm sure that the Great ChouSaek never had this much trouble writing the Little Book of Thoughts. What am I doing wrong? What does my failure mean for my place at the Academy?
Please, Grandfather, I'm begging you. Do you have any suggestions? Any at all?
...
No, I didn't think you would. I need inspiration, but inspiration cannot be found. It comes to you when you least expect it. Am I supposed to wait? Is patience the key, or must I be proactive?
I cannot subscribe myself to a life of mediocrity. This damned paper will decide my fate and sits there, mocking my foolishness. Why have I not been graced with the wisdom to fill it?
Never mind. Right now I feel as though I could spend a lifetime in thought and never achieve that one pure moment of insight. I must meet with my friends downstairs. The book can wait for yet another day.
Eating, defecating, sleeping... I swear, I'm never going to get used to sleeping.
The mind seems to careen awaylike a wild boulder down a mountainside, and after taking you on a thoroughly unpleasant and generally useless psychedelic joyride by night, it discards most of the experience by morning.
The Council must be having a good laugh at my expense, but I won't give them the satisfaction of breaking me.
This isn't so bad. In fact, dare I say it, I'm becoming rather attached to this lumpy bag of bones. Despite its numerous design flaws, it also grants sensations beyond description if you know what to do with it.
Wait a minute. Where did these angry-looking red spots on my neck come from? They weren't there when I checked last night. Oh no! I need Doctor Roberts's user manual again.
At least this primitive language was easy enough to master. I need to check the entire chapter on skin blemishes.
"Perak's Disease. Symptoms include facial sores, cramps, stomach pains, vomiting and dizzy spells."
Well, I'm feeling a little light-headed, but not too queasy. Which probably means something much more serious is inside me. Something sly and sneaky.
"Red Pox..."
It's alright, I woke late myself. No harm has been done. I think we all needed the rest.
And that fantastic meal last night, too! This place does some of the best traditional Lereftese cooking that I have ever tasted. It almost stopped me feeling homesick. Where is Ionae?
I have Red Pox!
Good morning, Ionae! How are you?
W-What? Weren't you listening? I have Red Pox! I may only have days to live!
What makes you think that, Ionae?
I have consulted this manual, Doctor Roberts's Medical Dictionary, and I match most of the symptoms. Dizziness, short breath, weak legs, outbreaks of sore spots...
Don't just stare at me like that. This is serious! Do something!
Red Pox was eliminated by a national health initiative more than thirty years ago, Ionae. You don't have it, and I certainly wouldn't be standing this close to you if I thought otherwise.
Really? You're not a medical professional like Doctor Roberts, and he says...
Stop reading that book, Ionae. It's over thirty years out of date, and it's not good for your mental health. Those people make money off of worriers like you.
Alright... If you say so. It's just as well that I didn't pay for it. What are we doing here again?
The plan is to scale the mountain before nightfall. It won't be easy, but we can manage it.
THe Institute is located near the summit. Heaven knows why they chose such a remote location, but that's where we're headed.
This is the absolute worst place that treacherous spy could have sent us. I saw the mountain from my window, Denever, and it looks very tall and very cold, even at this distance. We'll never scale it in one day.
We must, Ionae. We can't afford to spend the night on the slopes. I fear it will be too cold and too perilous without the sun above us. So we're climbing that mountain by nightfall or not at all.
Have you two noticed how quiet it is around here? The people seem so nervous. They look away quickly when you meet their gaze. I haven't asked, but I'm sure something must be wrong.
I've noticed it too, PyanPau. I wouldn't say it was an unwelcome feeling, but I certainly think they'd rather we weren't here. They almost act as if they're guilty of something.
Well, it's not our problem, whatever it is. We're just passing through and the sooner the better.
Indeed. Grab some food and let's get going. We have a long day ahead of us.
Littlehampton!
What a charming villa.
Terralt leapt from the bed and rushed him with his sword, but the beast batted him aside as though he were a straw scarecrow.
Poor Terralt cracked three ribs on his own fireplace and was left a crumpled heap as the monster loomed over meredith.
It was only when the town woke and the fiend saw the tide of torches approaching that it turned and sailed away into the night sky. Perhaps the flame brings back bad memories for the beast.
Lord preserve us! Who will the Count's vengeance claim next? Perhaps we deserve to be stalked by this horror. What fools we were to think that we could take the torch to him and his family and escape unpunished.
Goodness, that's an impressive looking break. it must have taken a lot of force to do that. What's going on here?
Ah, it's nothing of consequence, strangers. Trouble with the Chillsplinters. At the break of autumn they often wander down from the Mane to cause trouble.
I see. They're quite the little vandals, aren't they? I didn't realize they could climb so high. No wonder you're worried.#
They're nothing we can't handle. You three came in on the Vale road, didn't you? You must tell us what's happening up there. We've heard nothing for days.
Even the newsprints are late. No one pays us mountain folk any attention until they need something from us.
It's the Tax Office in spring and mark my words, if the situation's as bad as Jeb says he heard, there'll be a draftsman from the army round soon enough.
My husband was trading in Glyn Denoth last week and he should've been back home by now. Please, tell us what you've heard!
I'm sorry, we don't know much more than you folk. The situation appears bleak, but Glyn Denoth is in no immediate danger. The roads are very busy, though, so your husband is bound to be delayed.
In such a time it's mighty strange to see folks as heavily armed as yourselves sheltering in our humble little village when so much would be happening out to the west. Just what are you doing here?
We're looking to scale the mountain and visit the Institute. You good people wouldn't be able to advise us on the best route up, would you?
The mountain? No, I'll be no assistant to suicide. It's not adviseable to go anywhere near Shattermane at this time of year. The Iceeni are collecting food for the winter and their tastes are none too fussy.
So unless you want to end up as a rack of meat in their icy larders, you're best off turning back now. Or worse, if you run into the Count...
Watch your tongue, Jemina! There's nothing to fear out on the slopes besides the Iceeni and the Chillsplinters, as you well know.
Yes, yes. There's a good reason the Institute was built at Shattermane's peak. They have a Rakari roosting up there to keep them safe, but anything else moving on those slopes is taking a terrible risk.
Some folks say that the Institute is sited there to keep interlopers our, but I expect it's in order to keep those oddballs in. It's an asylum of sorts, whose inmates'd not get far fleeing across the Mane.
Those people have some mighty strange ideas. It's best for us that they're kept out of society.
Thank you for the warning. We'll just have to make do as best we can, because we intend to scale the mountain anyway.
Very well. We cannot stop you. But don't say you weren't warned. The Mane is a cold and deadly splinter of rock. You'll not be the first, nor the last victims she's claimed.
Next time: Foreboding!
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