But for a Slime

Joe dismissed him, ignoring the man’s stuttering reply and turned to the four priests. They had rearranged themselves and had begun the curing once again. He was about to ask them a question, but then paused when he noticed all four had once again begun. He waited. After some time, all four stopped and stepped back, an obvious failure. Two of the priestesses need a time to rest and recover mana. The room fell silent with that then burst into whispering conversations as everyone began to speak with one another again. Joe pondered for a bit and turned to Gwenvair.

“How many times have they tried?”

Gwenvair shrugged, “Maybe ten or so… fifteen? I am uncertain.”

Joe nodded, thoughtful, before once again speaking to her, “Does the order of the priests cure’s matter?”

Gwenvair looked up at him and nodded, “From what I know, yes. Only a specific order and a specific set of priests can cure a curse.”

Joe chewed a lip in thought. How many combinations… four factorial, right? So… twenty four… done about half… Let’s see if we can speed this up. Joe nodded at that and waited for the cure to end as the four priests and priestess had started again.

He then interjected, “Excuse me, but did you try,” Joe glanced at his box once again before continuing, “magic, healing, family birth, then sex last?”

The four monks looked over when Joe spoke, interrupted in their own conversation and seeming a bit miffed, “You are?”

Gwenvair quickly stepped forward, “He is the eccentric who found the curse and the cure to this curse, monks.”

The four monks quickly stopped, reassessing him and quickly growing more polite, turning to speak to him, “You … are certain of this order?”

“I do not know. I only know I have been told these four in this order. If order is of importance, then possibly the order was also revealed? I sought the cure to the curse, so I can only assume that the order of the cure was also revealed in the revelation of the cure. Have you tried that order?”

“We have not,” the oldest of the four monks replied, “We have a typical order we take so as to not miss any.”

Joe didn’t say anything, thoughtful and uncertain how to reply. Gwenvair stepped beside him so he decided to let her take over, trusting her cultural understanding better than his.

“Could you indulge the eccentric? I will cover any sacrifice cost.”

The four monks nodded and rearranged themselves once again, although the youngest one couldn’t hide her eye roll and Joe didn’t say anything. They began their ritual once again and soon were ready to initiate their cure curse skills, the powers beginning to thrum in the room. All four had their power forming, and the spell obviously combining in some odd way as Joe watched the mana combine before the woman in a strange construct. Once the construct was formed, all four priests seemed to jerk in surprise as they all began reporting with some excitement, glancing at one another

“Resonance,” the first called out softly.

“Yes, I resonate as well,” the second called with some excitement.

“I think it’s a complete… resonance!” the third erupted, unable to contain themselves.

The fourth was firm in his call but just as excited, “It is a complete resonance!”

The room fell deadly silent, power resonating in the room centered on the girl before it began pouring down upon her and condensing. Joe watched on with some excitement as the constructs bent to their work. Suddenly, Joe felt the world shatter, something breaking under immense power and the young girl began sobbing in relief. Joe smiled. Must have worked! Nice.

The girl brought up her status with trembling hand before opening her curse tab to find it blessedly clear of the curse. She stood and rushed into Joe’s arms, crying out rapid thank yous and Joe hugged her for a bit before pushing her away, reassuring her before turning back to Kilniara and Gwenvair.

Joe sighed in deep relief, “Glad… glad that’s done… and glad it worked out. I’m sooo… tired!”

Gwenvair and Kilniara smiled, their own relief palpable and he turned to head out before blinking in surprise to see the four monks heading out of the room in excitement, chattering amongst each other. Joe barked out, bringing the entire room to a halt with his cry.

“What are you doing!?”

The four monks seemed confused, then taken aback when they saw that he was focused upon them. The male monk stepped forward to speak.

“Are you calling us, eccentric?”

“Yes! Where are you going?”

“We… are finished here?” he replied with some confusion.

“There are dozens more in the other room. Are they cured?”

The four priest monks stared back and forth at that before the oldest replied, “The others can seek a cure with payment when they seek it at a temple with appropriate sacrifice.”

“I will cover the sacrifice. Cure them all,” Joe bluntly stated.

“And the payment.”

Joe’s anger boiled and he kept himself in check before turning to the guard woman at the door to the inner rooms.

“How many women are in need of a cure?”

She blinked at him before called into the room for the number. It came back quickly and Joe pulled out a core from his bag, handing it to her.

“Will this cover the sacrifices needed for all of them?”

She quickly nodded, “More than enough, eccentric!”

“You may keep what is left over. Now. Here is the payment,” Joe counted another core for each woman in the room, including the one that had just been cured.

“Is this enough payment for a cure, guard?”

She quickly nodded, “More than enough as well, eccentric!”

Joe nodded then spoke again, “Good. Now, for every woman who is not cured by midnight tonight, take two cores and grind them under your feet… while the monks are watching! Here are five cores for your payment. Are you willing to do so?”

The guard’s eyes grew as Joe continued speaking before she quickly nodded, a small smile gracing her lips, “Of course, eccentric! I will do exactly as you say!”

Joe turned to look at the monks, all four of them staring at him in stunned anger and dismay, “There is your payment. Work hard, if you wish it!”

Kukurnal stood against the wall, a small smile on his face, while the other priests that had helped Joe uncover the curse and cure milled around next to him, although the scornful priest had already escaped, obviously embarrassed by Joe’s success. Joe ignored everything and simply stomped his way out of the room, the other four quickly following after, with Kukurnal scrambling after them as well.

Joe escaped to the alleyway, then stopped and stared up into the night sky, the darkness of night too bright under the massive gas giant low on the horizon. He stood in a dirty alleyway, the stench of refuse, feces, and urine overwhelming everything around him. He took a deep breath under the clear sky and felt nothing but relief to take that breath, his anger still shuddering through him even as he struggled to release the stress that had built up. This world… sucks!

* * *

Kukurnal escaped out after Joe, then paused to watch him as he stared up into the sky. What had happened today was astounding. A greater curse so easily discovered and healed. He couldn’t understand what had happened, but the power needed to accomplish the task had to have been overwhelming, especially considering how long the eccentric had taken in accomplishing his working. And when he’d stepped into the eccentric’s Presence…

Kukurnal shook his head. I can ask him later… tomorrow? Another time? He is a good man… that is easily enough seen. I… I can ask him tomorrow… or later.

* * *

He stirred from his dreams, coming to awareness slightly with some surprise when a request for a connection came in followed by several questions. He dismissed the questions, shunting them to the autonomous spirit to answer them. The connection, however, was truly a fascination, and he considered it for a time before simply allowing it. He was tired. So tired and so old. It was interesting, but meaningless. He was truly incapable and a fool. No hope… no hope. I am a fool to believe in hope. So… He struggled against his inner monologue as he fled back to the safety of his dreams.

* * *

Loki fled through the vast emptiness between the cradles, seeking escape once again. This journey was not a long one, a rather easy one, but still a concern as his mana streamed out behind him, evaporating into the void of Absence. He’d long grown used to the sensation of the mana ripping from his core, the pain astounding but an old friend for all his experience.

He sighed, lost in his journey but turned back to focus on his escape. His most recent escape was rather simple, the local magistrate of the cradle having discovered his identity and chased him off. But, he was Loki, an untouchable immortal with utmost speed. None could touch him and escaping into Absence proved his easiest avenue as no other would pursue him. No other was fool enough to do so.

He still chuckled, remembering the first time he’d fled from his Emperor when the Emperor had turned on him, destroying millennia of Loki's faithful service to the Emperor. All for that bitch, Taglisea! Loki growled in anger before grinding his teeth and turning his thoughts from his past.

For him, his betrayal and loss had occurred only a few hundred millennia ago, maybe more. His age was now a hazy number lost to time as he’d learned his escapes through Absence from one cradle to another, especially if the cradle was at another sun, often played havoc with his sense of time.

His first escape from the Emperor had been a desperate gamble, fleeing from Emperor to the nearest cradle which luckily was quite close. He’d fled into the void, deep into the Absence and almost collapsed at the pain of having his core mana ripped from his being into the Absence. But after struggling to return to awareness, he was able to leap into the light, his dao having him speeding faster than any being he’d ever met; light itself his only and his greatest rival.

Still, he’d fled from the Emperor and his cradle, out into the Absence and to the nearest star with another cradle, taking almost two weeks in Absence, even at his highest speed. At least, it had seemed like two weeks to him but when he’d arrived at the other cradle, furtive and fearful but grateful to be within the matrix once again to replenish his mana, he’d found out that the locals believed he’d fled from the Emperor some half a year prior, a time over two hundred days ago.

He’d dismissed this as him struggling in and out of conscious dealing with and reeling from the pain of living in Absence. He cared little, glad that amount of time had passed as it allowed him to flee out into the many cradles in the Greater Cycle's billions of stars. He’d lost himself there for quite some time, then he’d been found out, and soon fled from star to star, each escape taking weeks or months but somehow, when he arrived at his destination, years had passed.

In his greatest and most fearful journey, the Emperor had duplicitously schemed to have him come out to the edge of the great cycle where the stars were vast distances away from each other. He’d come at the behest of a friend, but the Emperor was awaiting him when he arrived. To this day, he did not know if his friend had deceived him or if the Emperor had played an elaborate scheme to capture him.

The Emperor’s plan had been sublime, and Loki, despite his incredible speed, had no escape and soon could only attempt to escape into the Absence once again. That had been a terrifying crossing of the Absence, a time measured in years upon years. And Loki had never flown so fast, his dao of Light deepening his foundation more firmly than he’d ever had. Despite his incredible growth into the dao of Light, he’d found himself still trapped in the Absence for years, tens of millennia, he’d been certain.

He’d barely made it to his destination on the final wisps of his mana, collapsing within the cradle matrix in exhaustion. Fear had driven him to seek isolation but as time continued, he soon found out no one knew he was alive. All thought he was long dead by some thousands of millennia, and so too were his friends. The Emperor was long dead as well with the descendants of his grandchildren and great grandchildren now ruling.

Ever since, he’d feared delving the void too long, the Absence’s ability to eat Time left him terrified, but there were still times he was required to seek its solace simply to disappear again for a while.

Now, he was a relic. He was a man out of time, lost to history. A remnant of a time long forgotten and his years of dedicated service to the Emperor only in his memory. He and his friends were now infamously known only for a betrayal never committed and a crime falsely accused.

A missive arrived, and Loki sighed, surprised that any still sought his godhood. He had very few adherents left, all killed now that he’d been labeled criminal and anathema by the Ancient Royals. He glanced at the missive then quickly focused on the missive in some surprise.

From Aelthron’s cradle. Oh… how you have fallen, old friend. And yet still, you allow my temple. Loki huffed and decided to at least take look. He was a god of the old order. The thought twisted his heart, angry emotions flooding. He grimaced as he considered how the current godhood had been corrupted. The new gods were vile parasites, turning godhood into a desperate gamble at elongating their life to eke out another attempt to increase their power. It was a broken path of the Dao, a path for the weak and incapable.

Loki turned to his duties, finding a request and a sacrifice. Loki grinned. His last request had also come from Aelthron’s cradle less than a year ago. And like the last request, it was also to remove a curse for another. Loki’s grin grew, happy to see his followers seeking the benefit of others. He delved into the request, and sought the information passed along, then frowned. A greater curse. This… I cannot help. The curse… Loki delved into it deeply then sighed, shaking his head. I am sorry, young priest. This curse is not under my purview, nor can I delve its making. Good luck.

His sorrow at failing to help his young adherent shifted to a smile at the sacrifice. The simple single slime core brought him some joy and humor. Must be a kid, right? Only a single core. Heh… I remember fighting them as a kid… seven… eight years old? Heh… sorry kid. I cannot help you… Loki's pleasant emotions soured when he realized what it meant that one so young sought such a cure. Not... good... His sour mood dipped further and he sighed, bitter that one so young should be forced to struggle with such a curse. He turned his thoughts from bitterness and tossed the small slime core in his hand, expending a small amount of mana and his Presence to keep the core from evaporating in the manaless Absence. His curiousity got the better of him, and he emitted essence from the core only to raise an eyebrow with some surprise. A perfect core... impressive. Who was that? He considered the young boys name and nodded, committing it to memory. Not bad... not bad at all... He considered his new adherent with some pride, even if it was only one of so very few, and soon returned to pleasant thoughts. Loki soon turned to his own past, losing himself in reminiscing about his childhood, actually grateful for the small sacrifice given him as it offered him a distraction in his long and lonely journey through Absence.