It takes about an hour for to hit upon sothing I think will work. It's an hour well-spent, considering what it's going to be used for, but... not a particularly enjoyable hour, I have to admit. Tarin and Ahkelios, initially sympathetic, got more and more amused as ti went on. I don't really bla them, but I grumble under my breath nevertheless.
"You wouldn't be smiling if you were the ones doing this," I mutter.
"But I not," Tarin says smugly, folding his wings across his chest.
"You could always take a break," Ahkelios suggests, relenting. I sigh.
"I'm too close to getting it to work." I frown at the Firmant stone still held in my hands. The feedback from Whisper's Firmant is nothing more than a dull ache now; the only problem is that I don't know if that's because I've gotten used to the pain, because the fragnt's been getting weaker, or because the Hueshift strategy is actually working.
Maybe so combination of all three.
The color that works is a royal purple that feels like pride and haughty narcissism not unlike Whisper's current self. It's the reason I didn't try this color until now; I didn't think that making the Firmant more like her would sohow make it less effective. But it seems to work. The geas still feels restrictive, but not potentially debilitating.
There's probably a reason the color shift here works the way it does. Sothing to do with how the skill was born out of her guilt over sothing, and her current attitude, all haughty pride and arrogance and vanity, is just her way of coping with it. Maybe they're natural emotional opposites. I don't know. I never really studied psych.
The point is, I'm pretty sure this will work well enough. Only one way to actually find out, though.
"Hey," Ahkelios says, interrupting my thoughts. "Does anyone else think Miktik should've been back by now?"
I pause, my thought process montarily derailed with concern. Tarin frowns, folding his wings over one another and glancing up at the sky in the general direction of Whisper's castle.
"We didn't do things that different this loop," I mutter to myself. "Did we?"
Our approach to Miktik was different, and I took a far more active role in the Craven Arena. We didn't speak with Miktik about anything outside of her insulated workshop, though, so I doubt the first thing is what caught Whisper's attention. Assuming that's what happened.
Did the Craven Arena draw her attention? But even if it had, there's no reason for her to target Miktik, of all people. I'm pretty sure I didn't ntion her na outside her workshop.
"Tarin," I say slowly. "You didn't ntion Miktik to anyone at the Arena, did you?"
Tarin looks at with an offended, indignant look. "No! I not stupid."
"I know," I assure him. "Just checking."
The third possibility is that the difference in Whisper's actions have nothing to do with what's changed about my loop, and she's managed to get so information back to herself through the Interface. It's the possibility I'm most worried about, and it seems like it's the most likely possibility, too.
I can think of a few places Miktik might be. There's the Integrator scavenging site she ntioned, but she never told us where it was, and she told us it would take protective equipnt to even enter safely. If she's there, there's nothing we can do to get to her.
More likely, though, she's been summoned to Whisper's palace.
"She didn't leave a note for us or anything, did she?" I ask, glancing around the workshop. Might as well cover all my bases. I'd feel stupid if I went out looking and it turned out she'd left a note saying she was going on an extended trip or sothing.
"I not see note." Tarin climbs up onto the workbench, peering at the shelves. I grimace a little as he balances precariously between all the gadgets scattered around on it. I'm pretty sure I hear at least one crunch, like sothing brittle and plastic being snapped apart. How Tarin managed to achieve that standing on a workbench full of tal gadgets I don't know.
"If she left us a note, I don't think she would have stuffed it into her shelves, Tarin," I say dryly. Ahkelios makes a sound that is remarkably similar to a muffled giggle, and I nudge him with a finger, amused.
I give the workshop a quick sweep. Nothing really seems to stand out no signs of a struggle, nothing broken beyond whatever it is Tarin stepped on, and no paper or data slate a note might be written on.
Then I see sothing that makes frown.
"Miktik's pocket oracle," I say out loud, walking over to the shelf where it's sitting innocently out in the open. She wouldn't have just left it like this. I'm pretty sure it's one of the most precious things she owns, considering her reaction when Whisper damaged it. When she first pulled it out, she was keeping it on her person. Why would it be on a shelf now?
There's sothing here I'm not seeing... so I suppose now's as good a ti as any to try out a new skill.
Firmant Sight.
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The world around glows in subtle shades that were invisible to only monts before, and I wince, shielding my eyes against the light. Miktik's workshop is bright. The walls themselves glow with the privacy imbuent built into it, a rushing torrent of purple-yellow that streaks through the structure of the building and carries off any stray Firmant that cos into contact with it. The shelves are a multicolored array of orbs of light, every gadget shining with its own particular Firmant, so of which look terrifying there's one that's oozing puddles of red onto the ground and so of which look... well, slightly less terrifying.
On the one hand, using this skill while working on the Hueshift stone would probably have been a good idea. I need to rember I have it. On the other... I'm sort of glad I didn't use it now, because the rest of the workshop would have been very distracting.
I sigh and take a mont to try to parse the blinding array of colors and Firmant before . Nothing here is physically unusual, and my Firmant sense didn't detect anything strange, either but Firmant Sight unlocks a whole dinsion to Firmant that's normally quite difficult for to detect. I can sense a 'color' associated with a given strand of Firmant, but it's much more difficult than just sensing its presence. Or even diving down through its layers.
The point is that I can use Firmant Sight to look for disturbances I can't otherwise see, and Miktik's workshop is streaked with disturbances.
It stands out. Muted yellow splashed across the workshop table like a bucket of paint spilled violently; traces of red streaked with a more vibrant yellow pulsing in the air, expanding and contracting in a way that looks a little too organic. Looking at it actually makes physically uncomfortable, and I glance away after a mont.
"I don't think Miktik left her workshop willingly." She wouldn't have had ti to leave a note. Maybe an imprint, left behind in the Firmant? But she wouldn't know about my ability to sense Firmant on this scale. How would she tell Tarin where she's going?
The old crow, as if sensing my thoughts, squawks impatiently. "We wasting ti. She-Who-Whisper take her, yes?"
"We don't know that for sure."
"Who else take her?" Tarin flaps his wings exasperatedly. "We go find Whisper. Even if Miktik not there, Whisper know. She hear things. She hear Miktik."
He's got a point there. Ahkelios repositions himself on my shoulder as I make my way back out of the workshop. "Alright, then. Whisper's palace it is."
Getting to the palace is a little easier said than done. We know where the 'entrance' is although it might as well be called a launchpad but that entrance is guarded by two silverwisps. Flying up there with Firmant isn't out of the question but would be particularly noticeable, and I'm not sure I want to find out what kind of defenses Whisper might have to shoot unwanted visitors out of the sky. She's got a big, ostentatious launchpad for a reason. No doubt she wants people to use it.
"Why do you think" Ahkelios begins, and then cuts himself off when I give him a reproachful look. "Oh. Right."
Operational security. If we aren't inside Miktik's workshop, we have to assu Whisper is listening.
Which is also an opportunity, and I'm counting on it to get us into her palace without kicking up too much of a fuss.
We get to that isolated shrine and the two silverwisp guards standing in front of it, and this ti, they bar our path. Firmant coalesces between them, forming a solid barrier between us and the entrance to the launchpad.
I could break through it. It doesn't look that strong. Tarin is clearly thinking the sa thing, considering the way he's looking contemptuously at the barrier, so I cut in before he's able to just kick his way in.
"We're just looking for our friend," I say, trying to make myself sound as worried and frantic as possible. It's not that hard; I am worried. "She-Who-Whispers might know where she is, right? I've heard she knows everything that happens in this city"
"She-Who-Whispers cannot spare ti to help every single wayward soul that cos her way," the guard informs . There's no inflection in his voice no emotion and now that I look more carefully, he's missing the pendant that most silverwisps wear to convey emotional context.
It makes his speaking cadence almost... creepy.
"But I think she might know my friend." I inject a note of desperation into my voice. "Miktik she's an inventor that has her own workshop, I'm sure so of the stuff she's built could be useful to She-Who-Whispers"
The guard I'm talking to stiffens only a second or two after I ntion Miktik's na, and I hide the self-satisfied grin as he steps aside. "She will see you," the guard allows. "Be respectful. Do not waste her ti."
"I won't," I assure him. I'm even telling the truth.
For this loop, anyway.
The journey up to her palace is largely the sa. This ti, as we soar through the air, I pay careful attention to the way Firmant flows up to the shard in the sky that carries her palace. Firmant Sight helps in this I see shades of color spiraling through the air, each tinted with a faint shade of joy or mirth or fear or despair.
I wonder how Whisper can stand this. Is she listening to everything the entire city says, constantly? I'm sure so things slip past her. I wasn't completely careful with my words in my first loop here, and she didn't catch on until I was talking to Miktik.
If I had to guess, I'd assu she has a skill that filters for certain words or topics of interest, and ignores everything else. But even then, Isthanok is massive. Filtering for a word like 'fracture' would return thousands of hits. Whatever way I look at it, she's listening to far more than any sane being should.
Also, the whole invasion of privacy thing.
She-Who-Whispers is waiting for us in her so-called throne room, and to my relief, I see Miktik beside her, looking none the worse for wear. A little fearful, with traces of yellow in her Firmant, but not hurt.
And Whisper... her aura is tinged with red. She looks angry. The anger doesn't seem to be directed at or at Miktik, though, which confuses as do the flickers of fear-yellow in her Firmant.
I'm suddenly a lot less sure of the whole 'she sent information back to the past and knows I'm a Trialgoer and that Miktik is involved' theory.
"So," She-Who-Whispers says. She controls her rage as she speaks, and manages to sound perfectly calm, with only the slightest tremor in her voice indicating her mood. "You two claim to know Miktik. I imagine you are the helpers she ntioned?"
I notice Miktik nodding rapidly behind Whisper, and open my mouth to reply
"We good helpers!" Tarin bursts in, puffing his chest out proudly. I blink and glance at him. Whisper looks a little bit stunned, too.
Well, if Tarin wants to take charge here, I'll gladly let him.
Because I'm noticing that there's sothing's strange about the Firmant here, and I want to figure out what.
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