euphridia
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Book 4: Chapter 46: Two Heads Are (Sometimes) Better Than One
🕑 Added 2025-09-21 18:59:55 +0000 UTCWhile the rising sea monster summoned more of its long and barbed tentacles, I armed myself with sword, shield, and aura.
“I’ll admit it’s no kraken, but a sea anemone? That’s stretching language to the breaking point.”
Oliver shrugged, summoning his staff. “I don’t think it cares what you would call it, even if you did ask.” He glanced about with a frown, his closed eyes lingering on the other entranced crew members. “Gawkers, go to the galley.”
Right. Rescue first!
The orb on his staff began to glow, and he gestured imperiously, pointing to the stairs below. They turned without so much as a question, their feet then shuffling across the deck. Ponderous tentacles reached forward across the ship’s bow, sweeping back and forth. One seemed on a slow but certain collision course with a lagging sailor.
I rushed over and grabbed his arm. “A little faster, sir,” I urged, pulling him along.
The sailor suddenly flinched, his eyes wild. “What’s going—”
“Nothing to see here!” I shoved him down the stairs, carefully, of course. The hatch closed itself as soon as my arms were clear, black mist sealing its lock.
Oliver shook his staff, and its scythe blade dropped into place from nowhere. “Actually, I believe there is something for us to observe—the creature’s next move.” He smirked. “I say that in ridicule, of course, since the creature has no eyes.”
“Aha…” I humored him with a laugh, though I still wasn’t sure how he could see anything either, given his eyes were usually slits at best.
The barbed tentacles began to twitch with frustration, their sweeping movements widening with every pass. They then retracted, spraying bioluminescent goo across the ship. Faith, in tower shield form, took most of the onslaught for me, while Oliver simply phased out of its path.
“I’m pretty sure sea anemone don’t squirt slime!”
Oliver reappeared farther away as the tenacles trembled, their lengths filling with fluid as they reset. A few began to swivel, but they seemed to be waiting for something.
“The same essence that bewitched you earlier,” he noted, poking at a glob of glowing goo. “Between this and its barbs, I believe it to be quite the hunter.”
“We’re not on its menu!”
Anticipating their attack, I inhaled to boost my aura. The tentacles zeroed in and shot toward me. I gripped Will tightly and watched for my opportunity to slash first.
They froze just outside of my range, waving in confusion as a wall of purple shields shimmered before me. The tentacles then recoiled, swaying like disoriented antennae.
Oliver phased next to me. “It’s you specifically the parasite is after.”
I sighed. “Of course it—parasite?”
“Yes. I believe it’s best if I stay close by your side.”
For a moment, my lungs forgot their job. “I’m not objecting, but I’m not sure this is the time to be—”
“My animus blocks its sense of your amity,” he cut in, his tone matter-of-fact. “That gives us a chance to identify what creature it corrupted to serve as its means of locomotion.”
I swallowed, my face flushing. “Oh.”
The agitated tentacles crashed against the deck, heavy enough to make the planks quake but stopping short of breaking them. They writhed instead, smearing themselves in their own glowing ooze, coating the boards in slick trails.
What a mess!
A cloying sweetness thickened the air and turned my stomach.
“So that’s how it spread the bloom.” Oliver lifted his scythe, and a swift, watery gale howled across the deck. The stench was ripped away, flung back toward the sea. Slime peeled off in strings along with it, torn from both deck and monster alike.
The tentacles recoiled, retreating into the anemone’s crown as several bubbles erupted around its base.
One giant eyestalk popped up, jittering as it scanned the area.
A second one appeared about two feet away, operating independently of the first.
“A giant crab?!”
“Our true target,” Oliver agreed, sending a blast at the first eye. It dodged by diving below the surface, its counterpart soon following.
Bubbles roiled as the sea erupted. A massive claw clamped onto the railing with a splintering crack. Another, slightly smaller one followed, hauling the bulk of the crab onto the ship and filling half the deck. Water streamed from its shell as the boat bounced up and down from its landing.
Atop its carapace was the anemone itself, looking for all the world like a grotesque and askew party hat. Its tentacles had bored straight into the crab’s armor, wriggling where they’d split the shell and pulsed against the translucent raw flesh beneath. The whole thing twitched as one unreadable abomination, eyestalks jerking erratically while the crown of tentacles swayed in a superior, controlling rhythm.
The sea monster fusion lurched forward, its large claw swiping.
I dodged, then fended off a strike from its smaller claw. “Where do I hit it?!” I demanded, skittering back to reassess.
Oliver’s scythe reaped through a wave of sprouting tentacles, its dark arcs cleaving them down before they could reach me. “The heart. Between the eyestalks, centerline, just behind that second plate. Leave the anemone to me.”
“Uh, alright,” I replied, realizing I hadn’t been expecting such a confident answer.
With the severing of tentacles, slime began to coat the deck once again. Oliver did his best to clean with a breeze as he sliced, his efforts meant to afford me a clear and wide opening.
Unfortunately, the crab, or perhaps the sea anemone, was onto us. The crab kept its carapace low in defense. This also limited its claw strikes, but the fusion had the upper hand, what with having so many appendages to harass us with.
A loud bang came from behind us. The hatch had burst open, and there was Relias, his aura blazing. He raised his staff, his voice rising into an incantation as a circle formed around the crab. The crab lurched and slammed itself down to the deck. The boat tilted, and we tumbled as the waves corrected its course. Relias scrambled to stand, only to be grabbed by the whip-like strike of a barbed tentacle.
“Relias!” I screamed.
The tentacle quivered, the barbs biting into him as he ceased to struggle. The anemone glowed with the same light as Relias for a few moments, then shuddered and recoiled violently. With a sickening snap, it flung him high over the railing and straight into the black water.
“No!”
Oliver’s eyes widened. He slashed down another rank of regrowing tentacles, then hissed a curse. He translocated to the far railing, thrust his free hand outward, and clawed his fingers to recall His Holiness, but nothing happened.
“He’s already under the surface,” he growled as his robes and staff disappeared with a soundless poof. “The reserves can distract it. Strike it with both our powers.” He turned to give me a quick, knowing grin. “I have the utmost Faith in you.”
Before I could argue or ask for clarification, he vaulted the rail in a plume of dark vapor, vanishing into the waves.
The fusion lurched again, claws snapping. I caught the giant claw with a bash of my tower shield, only to hear more steel ring out beside me.
“And here I trusted you to stay out of trouble, Ann!” Mattias shouted, his saber flashing arcs of amity as he severed a sneaky tentacle that had gotten near my feet.
The reserves!
Florian, armed similarly, let out a laugh from the other side as he joined the fray. For a moment, the deck blazed gold. Their flaunting auras baited the anemone into overextending. With a shared nod, the brothers split to either side, parting the sea of writhing tentacles. The crab’s eyestalks jerked separately, trying and failing to track them both.
I brushed my fingers across the serpentine mark and charged. Will thrummed as I ran, the vibration crawling up my sword arm as amity and animus coiled together. Gold and black swirled at its tip, pulling against one another until ribbons of color filled in the spaces between.
Faith braced the giant claw to my left, the shield shuddering under but holding. The right claw swept too late, as I had already sprinted past.
Between the eyestalks, centerline, just behind that second plate.
Rainbows swirled from Will as I drove the sword forward, the strike tearing between the plates in its underbelly. The discharge cleaved through the carapace completely, filling the night sky with the brilliant display of victory.
The beast convulsed, its maw bubbling black as its body folded in on itself, joint by snapping joint. The anemone’s crown shrank, muted grey slime seeping from its ruptured tendrils until they collapsed.
As soon as I was sure the fusion was dead, I ran to the railing where Oliver had leapt.
“The ladder,” his voice called from the dark depths below. “Throw it down.”
I tossed the braided rope overboard, my relief surging as two shadowed shapes clung to the ship’s hull. “We’ll haul you up!”
The twins flanked me, all three of us straining at the lines.
“You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do, Ann,” Florian grunted.
“She’s not alone,” Mattias added. “That stowaway’s got a story to tell, too.”
“Not by half of hers!” Florian shot back. “She called the priest Relias. I heard it with my own two ears.”
Damn it.
“Relias?!” Mattias nearly lost his grip.
“We can figure out how much trouble I’m in later,” I snapped, pulling even harder. “For now, focus!”
“Aye, aye, Captain!” they said in unison, just as cheeky as Prince Mito himself.
With one last heave, we dragged both men over the railing. Oliver stood up quickly. Relias collapsed in a heap, shivering violently, his robes plastered to his frame. His lips moved before his eyes managed to focus.
“Dear One…” he whispered hoarsely, reaching out with trembling fingers to Oliver. “You saved me. My gratitude knows no bounds…”
“Guess again,” Oliver replied, his back turned.
Relias froze, his hand still hovering in the air, then let out a pitiful groan as his face went crimson.
“You could consider it a team effort…” I suddenly trailed off, caught off guard by Oliver’s silhouette in the moonlight. Tall, water streaming from his long, flowing hair, every line of his lithe but muscular frame in unfair perfection. Some of it was self-assurance, yes, but also the kind of outrageous cheating only a shapeshifter could get away with.
I turned my gaze back to Relias, hoping no one had noticed the heat rising in my cheeks. “It’s just a wonder the boat didn’t tip us all out,” I said with a nervous laugh. “We had a whole lot of luck—”
“No such thing,” Nora’s voice snapped from the stairs. “If I can’t beat sea sickness, I’ll just steady this boat with animus myself!”
“Nora!” I shouted, spinning to see her standing there unaided and tall—well, tall for her. “We’re not alone!”
The crew had gathered behind her, wide-eyed, with their faces caught between dread and awe.
“You! It’s you!” Captain Morin cried.
Oliver, Relias, and I shared a wary glance.
“Yes,” we answered together, flat and sullen.
***
Post-Chapter Omake:
Nora: Another short joke at my expense?
Rae: It was more of an observation.
Nora: It baffles me... How can you be so unobservant about your own shortcomings?
Rae: Okay, now that was a short joke at your expense.
Nora: Right, and I’m the only one who should say something like that.
Rae: I’m sorry for punching down.
Nora: You did that on purpose, too!
Rae: Oh no, I swear, I didn’t!
Nora: Belittling people is beneath you!
Rae: Must... Not... Respond... Whaaaaa!
Nora: Final Score: Nora 1, Rae 0.
Comments
Euphridia
... or should she start?
rhekke
Rae should stop telling tall tales about Nora XD
