137. Alternate Routes

After a busy, bloody, and messy night, Serac finally made it back to the Hubstation in one piece (or as close to it as was possible in her state). By then, a bit of seafoam had bled into the sky, signaling the dawn of another peaceful and predictable day in Krongard. But the Rakshasa knew that her day would be anything but, so it was imperative that she start it fresh, rested, and reconstituted.

When she came out of her session, however, she realized she hadn't been alone in her diligence. Another soul had sat down next to her to meditate, but apparently not before taking the time to fix Serac with an inscrutable stare.

[Designation: RODRIN SKJORTSDATTER]

[Wayfarer Race: YAKSHA]

[Karmic Level: 15]

[Liminal Karma: 0 क]

[ZEALOUS Instrument: HARPOON]

[Auxiliary: MISERICORDE]

"Oh, hi, Rodrin," Serac greeted the newcomer, hoping she sounded less nervous than she felt. Her voice had indeed spiked one octave higher, but that was how she normally talked to Rodrin—the baby of the whole palace. "Bit early in the day for meditation, isn't it? What's up?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

A fair point. Serac rued the risk she'd taken by visiting the Hubstation at such an odd hour, but things had to move a lot faster now, after her most recent run-in with Eddur Lokksen. More than that, she was hurt by Rodrin's cold and leery attitude… not that she could blame the young mackerel woman, considering the two of them had stepped off on the wrong giant prawn foot.

Nor could she allow herself to be distracted by politics and feelings—not even her own.

"Well, I asked you first," Serac said, setting her face to stone and her voice back to its baseline pitch. "If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, but at least have the courtesy to tell me that directly."

Serac was taken aback by her own stern words, but perhaps not as much as Rodrin. The mackerel woman's round eyes grew rounder—a little too reminiscent of Petter for Serac's comfort. Even her mumbled response gave off something of the same aw-shucks energy:

"I… Apologies, out—um, Serac Edin. It's not anything personal. I sometimes go to the Pasture to train on my own—during the odd hours of night when no one will… The point is, I need to improve. I don't want to let down anyone in the Kronvakt—especially not my Team Leader. So, yes, that sometimes means needing to reconstitute even when I'm off-duty."

Well, now I feel even worse. It wasn't just that Rodrin had called Serac by her name, when most other Kronvakt members would just use 'Rakshasa'. It wasn't even the young woman's aw-shucks earnestness, toiling away in the night to work on her 'craft' (and being rewarded for her efforts with a big fat egg for Karma!).

No, the worst part about this was that Serac had just been reminded who Rodrin's 'Team Leader' was. It was none other than Eddur Lokksen who, even as they spoke, sat tied up in a windowless cell in the brig.

Forget the politics and feelings. Serac steeled herself. Focus on the mission. The mission is all that should matter to me…

"It's admirable, what you're doing." Serac decided on her next words, trying her best not to stumble over them. "And I'm sure your efforts will pay off before long. Well, I'll leave you to it then. See you at the meeting!"

Serac stood and walked off, ostensibly in the direction of the Kronvakt's personal quarters. She hid a wince, wondering if she'd come across a little too artificial with her mention of the morning meeting. She also realized only too late that she'd forgotten to give her reason for the off-duty meditation, but to her great relief, Rodrin issued no follow-up questions.

The 'I just got away with one' feeling was somehow even more pronounced than when she'd 'won' a duel against Eddur—a man who could teleport a knife straight into her throat. It's a good thing Rodrin didn't see me before the reconstitution, with my bloodied clothes and hacked-up throat! Serac scurried away from the scene of the crime with shoulders hunched and head bent, hoping she wouldn't run into any more souls to whom she had to explain herself.

Now, onto another rendezvous with 'Team Serac'. Instead of going back to her quarters, she made a wide loop around the central Bulb, eyes peeled and horns attuned for any signs of trouble. The route eventually took her to a nook at the fork between the Western and Southern Boughs. Zacko and Petter were already waiting, their figures half-hidden by terrain and vegetation.

One unavoidable consequence of the Eddur episode was that the trio had been forced to accelerate their plans. In a matter of hours, the rest of the Kronvakt would find one of their Team Leaders missing. Serac and Zacko, as the newest members that had joined under highly unusual circumstances, had better make themselves scarce before that could happen.

However, it wasn't all bad news. By removing a long-range Peeping Tom from the equation, Team Serac now had their best window of opportunity for 'acting suspiciously' around the palace. The window would be brief, and there likely was no going back to 'normalcy' after this—no matter the outcome. All the more reason for them to go all out and make it count.

"How's Eddur?" was Serac's first question for the group. Despite knowing that the barreleye was securely locked up, she'd yet to shake off the eerie sensation of being watched by his SCRYGLASS.

"Oh, he'll be fine," Zacko said breezily. "I think it'll do him some good to spend time somewhere with no mirrors to distract him."

"You know that's not what I meant." Serac couldn't quite match the Manusya's casualness. The anxieties from the overnight events still lingered.

"What, you're worried he'll escape? Well, don't be. We have the key to his cell, and besides, you saw the look on the guard's face. He's in too deep and just praying for all this to blow over. He won't rat us out."

That poor tuna-typed soldier just couldn't seem to get through a night shift in peace. Zacko had dealt with him in his Zacko ways, and Serac wasn't about to argue. Yet, despite the assurances, she still couldn't shake Eddur from her mind.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Don't worry, Miss," Petter chimed in then, having gone back to the honorifics now that he was a good deal calmer. Baby steps. "Even if Mr Eddur somehow manages to get out, he'll have lost the chance to intervene. Once we go, we don't stop. Not until we're out of the palace with our friends in tow."

Serac nodded, a little surprised but deeply appreciative. But it was high time she stopped being surprised. For Petter had made it his habit to come through for Team Serac, long before he'd become a Wayfarer.

"Alright," Zacko said as he flattened his eyebrows. All business now. "Let's go over this one last time. Pete, take it away."

With that, all eyes turned to a schematic Petter had drawn into the dirt. It was a representation of the Apical Bough, complete with its overall shape and a simplified layout of its key locations.

"In short, the royal chambers are one big globe made up of many smaller spheres. The walls on the outside are layers upon layers of Crown-leaves woven into each other, with the Sanzu River cascading down all sides. Whereas the rooms inside are single units connected by branches of the Apical Bough. I've marked out two rooms of particular interest: the guesthouse"—Petter drew a star shape along the lower edge of the large circle, just above a rectangular space that stood for the dining hall—"as well as Queen Loha's private chamber, separate from the bedroom she shares with King Tyr."

The second star was placed almost directly opposite to the first, along the edge of the upper half. Seeing the picture as a whole, Serac was suddenly struck by an odd thought.

"Reminds of the Aviary," she said, gauging Zacko's reaction. As far as she knew, the Manusya was the only other soul in Pretjord who knew what she was talking about. "One big space filled up with lots of smaller cages, all connected by threads and footpaths."

"Don't think you're far off, princess," Zacko said with a shrug, clearly not as interested in the topic as Serac. "What did Robot Voice v.1 tell you? That the Aviary was modeled after a lung? Well, did you know that the booksmart people of Manesfera reckon the lung is a lot like a tree, with its network of branches and leaves? See, I'm more 'Erudite' than you give me credit for."

That was an interesting tidbit, but Serac was somehow left dissatisfied by the discussion. Something about this similarity between Krongard's Apical Bough and the Damnatorium's Aviary struck her as significant—enough to warrant digging into further. Then a prickling sensation in her right temple told her that at least one other 'entity' agreed with her.

But alas, in the absence of a clearer direction, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Sorry, Petey. Go on with your briefing."

"Right. Well, our plan is to split into two sides and approach both of these locations at the same time. Mister Zacko will go in from the west and head to the guesthouse. That's where you'll find Ms Inge and Munkfred, at least at this time of day."

"And this entry point," Zacko cut in. "It's the same one you used for your recon work, is it?"

"That's right. I've covered up the holes but haven't fully 'repaired' them. Should get you in smoothly enough, but anything on the other side of the walls would be uncharted territory, even for me."

"Not to worry, Pete. Your salt-and-pepper magic should let us sneak around some more once we're in. Worst comes to worst, we brute force it, which is what Serac and I do best, anyway."

"As for the second route, Miss Serac and I will go in from the east, and make our way to the Queen's chamber. I have to say, I'm a little less sure about this part of the plan, but hopefully, the Queen will have left clues in her room to point us in the right direction. Or…"

"Failing that, just grab the Queen herself," Zacko suggested far too casually. "She's long overdue for her comeuppance, anyway, and I trust Serac to deliver the goods. Even better if you could get her to spill the beans on where she's keeping Bubblegum."

Petter, still wet behind the earholes, paled and gulped. Serac, on the other hand, was distracted by yet another recollection—this one a lot more recent.

"Hang on," she murmured thoughtfully. "Remember what Mr King told us at that feast? That he built Queen No-Chill a balcony as a wedding gift? Any chance we could just… climb into her room?"

"Hm, I kind of doubt it." Zacko again. "I don't think the outer walls are very climber-friendly, what with the waterfalls and all. Recon man, thoughts?"

"Now that you mention it," this from Petter, "I do remember seeing an amber structure nestled within the outer Crown-leaves. Could it be some sort of support, maybe? It certainly would be the right location for it…"

"That's it!" Serac clapped her hands, instantly excited by the idea. "Show me this amber thing, Petey, and I'll see if I can secure us a climbing route. It'll be much faster and probably safer than trying to sneak through indoors."

"I could do that, Miss," Petter murmured, not quite convinced, "but are you sure about this? I… I wouldn't want to be a burden."

"No burden at all." As Serac said this, she gave PULVERIZER a fond pat on its craggy rocks—though she had one of its [Alternate Forms] in mind. "Just get me to a wall that's not covered in waterfalls, and I'm sure I can make it work. You'll see."

And that was that. It was far from a perfect plan, but it was the best one they had. And if worst came to worst, Serac was ready to brute force it. It was, after all, what she and Zacko did best.

No time like the present. The trio left their nook behind and started their climb towards the Apical Bough, keeping as low a profile as Raksha-Yak-Manusya-ly possible. They would've looked exceedingly suspicious to any prying eyes, but the hour was still early, and the prying-est pair of eyes were locked safely behind solid walls.

One voice had remained silent throughout the briefing. That voice chose this moment to speak up, with Serac preoccupied with making as little noise as possible.

"Do you not worry, Wayfarer," Trippy spoke in a 'pointed' monotone—his way of 'just putting it out there', "about how this mission of yours might detract from the larger goal?"

Huh? Serac kept to her inside voice, but a tad roughly at that. She wasn't particularly fond of the way Trippy had learned to 'pick his spots'. What do you mean? What's more important than freeing my friend from the clutches of her messed up family?

"You're a Wayfarer, Wayfarer. Shouldn't your topmost priority ever be the Path that takes you to the summit of Mount Meru?"

Oh, not this again, please. Not now, not here. Besides, I'm doing just fine! Two months in, and I'm already up to ten KLs away from 60. What do you have to complain about?

"Yes, you've done a remarkable job of racing to the Karmic Benchmark, I'll grant you that. But don't forget about the second requirement: an Ascension Mandate. Suppose you manage to rescue this Renate Sandvik. Suppose even that you strike down every Wayfaring foe that might stand in your way, enough to climb past KL-60. But what then? How will you obtain your Mandate from a King against whom you'll have committed open treason?"

I… well, I guess it's not ideal, but it's not like I haven't been in this situation before. I had to smite Naraka's Realm Immortal to get my Mandate there. Guess I'll just have to do the same here in Pretjord.

"You make it sound so easy. Naraka's Realm Immortal had two Bone Maidens and a rabble of Husks. King Tyr Djofulsen, on the other hand, has a devoted Queen, a powerful Prince, a platoon of Wayfarers, an army of trained soldiers, and a whole population of loyal subjects who'll—"

Okay, I get your point! I'm being rash and making things overly difficult for myself, is that what you want me to say? Well, jeez, first you want me to speedrun (Zacko's word, not mine) this Wayfaring thing, and now you want me to slow down? Pick a lane, man!

"I merely wanted to remind you…" If Serac weren't mistaken, Trippy's monotone had slowed in cadence, as though he felt and pushed through the weight of his every word. "… That there are many ways for a Wayfaring journey to grind to a halt, and often not by choice. Sometimes, there are walls too steep and too treacherous for even the most intrepid and tenacious climber. I just hope, Serac Edin, that your Path won't lead you astray for too long."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.