Interconnected: Spliced Souls

Chapter Sixty: Organized Fighting – Part One



How are you feeling?  

“Better… Much better…”  

It was morning, and I was still in bed. Momo—true to her word—had kept me warm and secure throughout the night. Her arms never left my back, and her chin had the perfect resting spot against my head.   

She was probably dreaming, though, based on her tail’s movements. I wondered if she was in her soul world? It sounded like a beautiful place. I’d like to see it, but we didn’t know how to make that possible.   

Itarr had thought about how Momo visited us, and she had no answer even after dwelling on it for hours. The goddess's only theory was the Momo lookalike had somehow crafted a bridge or something, but she didn’t know if that was possible. Or if this lookalike was someone in her unique predicament.   

“Mmmnn…” A cute noise came from Momo. She yawned and slowly rolled to her back. Her arms reached for the skies as her eyes opened. “Oooh… A good stretch is just what I need in the morning,” she whispered. “Good morning, Servy.”  

“Morning, Momo.”  

“Did ya sleep good?”  

“Yep. You were right. I…feel so much better.”  

“Good. That’s the whole point of sleeping it off, you know. The body needs a good, hard reset occasionally. But it isn’t the cure for everything.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“Grampy told me you should never go to bed angry with someone because you don’t know if they’ll wake up. If they didn’t, your last thoughts would carry a negative implication. And if you couldn’t forgive yourself, it would eventually gnaw at you like maggots on a carcass.”  

“I—” I froze mid-sentence. Something idiotic was about to flow from my lips. “That’s sound advice. Oh, Itarr says good morning.”  

“Morning to you, Itarr. Hey, where’s Albert?”  

“I dunno. Let’s find out.” I whipped out my phone and texted him, and he said he was helping Saline with breakfast.   

“Man, I wish I could read whatever that is.” Momo pouted. She intensely observed the letters and words, but they just didn’t make sense.   

Servi, I think I can solve this issue. The words we type can only be understood by us, but…  

I listened to Itarr and navigated to the Warden app. It showed all my quests. Momo took another look and nodded when I asked if she could read it.   

Itarr deduced that the words and phrases used for the guild’s questing system were premade. As in—they were written into the system. But the language we used when we texted…came from her—a goddess. Only another god or goddess could likely find it legible, but this meant we could secretly communicate with what was essentially the strongest ‘encryption.’ We’d have to take phrases and different words from stuff that would show up on a regular Skill Tablet and reorganize them into sentences anyone could read.    

My phone’s screen flashed and returned to the home screen as Itarr suggested another idea.    

Why not let Momo hold onto your phone? I can use these premade phrases to create new sentences to communicate with her. I’m always in contact with you, and if Albert is apart, I can text him. Or you can always summon your phone in an emergency.    

“That’s not a bad idea.” I told Momo, and she was for it. It was cute seeing her try to hold it. She panicked and dropped it on the bed when she hit the lock button. I showed her the functions. “Okay, so Itarr just told me she’s made another app. An app is a program that does things. For example, the Warden app is a quest log. This one…” I tapped on one of a red square—the latest one. “Opens up a message screen.”  

“Okay, it’s blank. What—”   

Bzzzt!!!  

“Eek!” The sudden vibration elicited a cute, quiet yelp, but she didn’t drop it.   

Can you understand this?  

“Woah… Ah—Y—Yeah, I can. Is that you, Itarr?”  

Yes! I’m happy it’s working!  

“It kinda…feels warm. I like how it vibrates. Umm… I…have a question…” Momo didn’t know how to word it, but she asked about Itarr and me.  

“Yeah… We’ve had sex…”  

It happened after that party—before we went to Waveret.  

“I see, and… Itarr can see what you see, right? Did…”  

Not all the time. I’m sorry, Momo, but sometimes I couldn’t look away. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. But I did see…some things…  

“I can’t be mad because I did the same. Umm…”  

“I know I seem like a jackass. What we did…while I was in a relationship with Itarr, but…” God, it was so uneasy. I knew this discussion would happen, but it was so uncomfortable. “How do we…go from here? I’ve done lewd things with all of you. And Nimyra, too. And Lucy in the bath, but it was just the one time. Srassa doesn’t know you exist.”  

Are you regretting it?  

“No! Never! I’d never regret what we shared!” I exclaimed.    

“I honestly think it’ll be fine. Servy, you’re thinking about it too hard. Itarr did come first. And you’re okay with what me and Srassa did with Servy, right?”  

I am. I felt happy seeing you three together. I still don’t know much about affection, but I learned much from watching you.  

“I’d be a prude if I got upset… But seriously, it’s gonna be okay. Once Srassa gets to know her, the four of us will be alright.”  

“And…”  

“Come on, who can you believe if not the words of your captain? Have I ever steered you wrong before?”  

I shook my head. “You’re a pretty good leader, Momo. 10/10. I can’t really complain.”   

“Haha! Oh, Servy?”  

“Yeah?”  

“I talked to the Foxy Me. You know, the one inside me?”  

“Did she say anything?”  

“No. She was quiet. But she summoned this beautiful mirror, made a bed of flowers, and hugged me. I talked for a while—about a lot of things. I asked if she’s a…you know.” Momo gestured to the phone.   

A goddess?  

Momo nodded. “But she still didn’t say anything. I think I upset her because I asked if she was lonely. If I did…what I did last night, then why couldn’t she? It doesn’t make sense. Why stay in there if she can come visit?”  

“It is strange.”  

Do you think I’m the only goddess that has lost her memories?  

“I don’t know. I hoped she could help you, but I’m not sure that’s possible. I…feel like she wants to. But you can want to do something without knowing how to do something. Please don’t be upset with her.”  

Oh, I would never. There may be others like me out there. Your lookalike may be one of them, and I wish I could do something.  

“Maybe we can. What if my blood’s the key?”  

“Maybe, but…” Momo’s wariness showed in her eyes.  

“I understand. My blood probably won’t do anything. There’s no guide for Itarr and me to follow. We really have no idea what’s going to happen or what determines who is placed within [Outer Circle] or [Pantheon].”  

Something awful could happen if we proceeded.    

There were too many unknowns.   

What if the woman inside Momo and Itarr were enemies? That wasn’t likely since it felt like she cared a lot for her. But why wouldn’t she speak? Why not do something to acknowledge that there was someone—Itarr—out there?   

I didn’t bring it up—Momo did. But she also knew it was unlikely. The atmosphere became awkward and tense, but Momo didn’t let it remain. She squeezed my cheeks, rolled out of bed, and got dressed. “Let’s have some fun today, Servy,” she said, tightening her belt. My overalls appeared a snap, eliciting a little jealousy. “Having a quick change ability would save me so much time.”  

“Like a couple of minutes per day?”  

“Yep. But that adds up over the years.”  

I had my hand on the door when she slipped behind me. She brought her lips close to my ears. “If…something happens…and it looks like…I might die, I’ll drink your blood, okay? Can you keep that in mind? I’m not gonna…try to force myself into a situation like that, but…”  

“I understand. I really do, Momo.” The awkwardness had returned. We both felt it, but Mono’s stomach rumbled as if it wanted to alter the subject. “Are you hungry?” She blushed and looked away, but I laughed as we went downstairs.  

Breakfast was being plated when we arrived. Cassidy was there—a cigarette already between her wrinkled fingers. She wasn’t hitting the booze, though, but I doubted the healthiness of that dark-colored liquid sitting near the ashtray.    

Albert had whipped up pancakes and bacon with sausage and eggs after he returned with Saline from the morning market.   

And it was delicious. The savory hotcakes were fluffy and soft. The bacon was crispy and flavorful. And the eggs were just runny enough. A blend of spices was sprinkled on the sausage to add a pleasant kick, but the heat wasn’t extreme or overpowering.    

It was a fulfilling work of art. 


“We talked it over last night,” said Saline as she adjusted her equipment. She gingerly sheathed that crimson dagger and bent to tie her boots. Cue was patiently sitting next to his water bowl. His food bowl was licked clean. “Did Momo tell you about it?”  

“You want to show us around, right?” Saline nodded. “Thank you for that. I guess it’s safer to travel in a group.”  

“Don’t let the light fool you,” warned Cassidy, striking a match to light her cigarette. “Shadows are the darkest in the sunlight. You can’t disguise a shitty wall with a new coat of paint. Keep that in mind, and always watch yourself. A ring like that?” She pointed to my finger. “People are liable to chop off your hand to get it. The same goes for your bag. Don't let anyone know it’s enchanted, or you won’t see it again.”  

“Okay, I won’t. I’ll keep it close to me.”  

“Good.”  

“What do you have going on?” I asked.   

“The shop opens in about an hour. I’m bound to get a few clients before tonight’s fight.”  

“Another one?”  

“They’re always happening,” she said, taking a puff. “Here.” She reached into a pocket on her coat and retrieved a stack of tickets. “You’re welcome to come. Or not. But I have enough for Sissy and her group. You’re probably meeting with them, right?” She tossed them to me, and I absorbed them.   

Someone knocked on the door, and Cue bolted to check it out. He didn’t bark, though. The dog was trained. Momo followed him.   

“That’s the plan.”  

“And the plan has arrived!” Momo skipped to the kitchen.   

“Good morning, everyone,” said the witch. “Sorry for the intrusion.” Gerld and Suusa trailed behind her. The youthful ogre looked as displeased as ever, but…there was something different about that grimace.   

It couldn’t have been reluctant regret at how he had treated me, right?  

I wonder if Sissy and Gerld talked to him…  

“Hiya. Have you eaten breakfast?”  

“We just finished. Hey, Saline and Cue are gonna take us around Arcton.”  

“Mind if we join? It’s ‘safer’ in the daylight, but not by that much. It’s always better to travel with others,” replied Gerld.   

I told him we didn’t mind, and then mentioned the tickets. Sissy and Gerld were happy to attend. They thanked Cassidy and introduced themselves. Suusa just grunted after dropping his name—like always—but that was probably his personality. Some people didn’t do well when meeting strangers. Our first impressions couldn’t have been much worse. But I didn’t hold it against him. I’d have likely reacted somewhat similarly if our positions were swapped.    

We left when Saline was ready, and she led the way as Cue followed beside her. Sunlight didn’t do the city any favor. It was still greasy and somewhat uncomfortable. It was a vibe you could feel—like an uneasy pressure behind your heart that made you look over your shoulders. Even the running groups of children were something to be cautious of. They were probably pickpockets looking for an easy target.   

The different districts had their distinct atmospheres.   

“Okay, so let’s head to the crafting district first,” said Saline when we reached the city’s center. It served as an information hub for newcomers. And you could rent a carriage or wagon for travel. But we didn’t need that service. “I want to show you the place Cassidy recommended me. They’re awfully nice and kind, and their quality is worth the price.”   

Suddenly, something I was supposed to have done flashed through my mind. I apologized to Albert, but he was confused. “You don’t remember? I asked Dineria to help find a weapon for you in Waveret, but it completely slipped my mind.”  

“I recall, but pay it no heed. These tridents are more than enough.” Albert could learn a skill to forge a weapon from his necrotic energy. It needed hundreds of Revenant Points, which he earned from killing enemies and monsters. They, however, accumulated slower than Skill Points.    

“Tridents? Did you scavenge them from the merfolk?” Momo nodded and answered Gerld, telling them of our adventure into the reefs and dungeon. Saline said she knew of the mentorship program, but she didn’t want to leave Cassidy alone. Unfortunately, she had to miss it, but the old crone taught her a lot.   

I didn’t know much of her life before this. Saline, to me, was a woman who lived with her dog and abusive husband before she killed him. Her past was probably something she wanted to leave behind. This could’ve been a new start for her—much like how this ‘life’ was a new beginning for me. But perhaps you couldn’t exactly compare the two. It almost seemed wrong to look at her trauma and apply it to me.   

“Do we have enough for a weapon?” asked Albert. “We need to purchase ingredients and supplies.”  

“Cassidy gave us that bonus,” Momo added. “And we need to stop by the guild to turn in the completion slip. We gotta get paid, after all.”  

“Good idea. Saline, mind leading the way?”  

“Not at all, Servi!” The elf was happy to help. She honestly looked badass in her gear. We took a quick detour and earned our paycheck, and then it was off to the crafting district—our first location.    

It greeted us with…many sounds. The cobblestone streets were packed with muscled warriors, lithe rogues, strong kobolds, and everything in between. The rhythmic clanking of heard against anvils almost eclipsed everything else. People had to yell to be heard, and the heat… Suusa and I were the only ones not sweating from the collective warmth of the dozens of furnaces placed wherever there was space.   

The aroma of molten metal being pounded into shape tickled our noses.   

This…was unpleasant and probably dangerous, but it had a rustic charm. 

Those of a certain demographic would appreciate it. Or maybe you had to be born here. What was weird to someone could be standard for another. And…the place was growing on me. The controlled chaos and haggling could almost be a chorus to a particular melody of life.   

I feared for Cue's hearing, but Saline had put on muffs to protect his hearing. He always remained between her legs and walked with her, and he was smart enough to avoid being stepped on.   

“This… Woah… I’ve never been in a place like this before,” gasped Momo. Her ears folded against her head while she hugged her bag to her chest.    

“It’s chaotic,” replied Sissy, keeping a hand on her pointy hat. “But some people love that stuff. We’ve been here a few times, so we aren’t strangers to it.”  

“I’m still not used to it,” added Saline. “But it gets easier to traverse the more you come here.” Her lithe figure slipped between the crowd, and we followed the best we could. She took the back paths whenever possible, reprieving us from the bustling chaos on the main streets.    

We arrived at our destination—the furnace had gone cold, and the workshop/work area didn't have any employees. We entered to find equipment spewed all over the place. Nothing was organized in any cohesive manner.   

A Dwarven child popped her head from behind the counter and jumped up and down. “Eh? Ah, Miss Saline! Are you here for more arrows? Daddy’s in the basement with the others while we wait for the furnace to be repaired.” Cue barked twice and ran to the child when she hopped over the counter. She was strangely athletic for being short and stout. She kneeled and petted the dog.   

“I have plenty of arrows, thank you. But I’m here to find a weapon for a friend.” She pointed to me.   

“Welcome to my daddy’s shop. I’m Elaine. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Elaine lowered her head. She wore a blacksmithing apron and had a tool belt of hammers wrapped around her waist.  

“I’m Servi. This is Momo, and we’re looking for a weapon for my spirit.”   

Albert introduced himself, Sissy’s group did the same, and we started looking at their wares. I didn’t have an eye for detail. Elaine asked what Albert wanted, and I left them to their chat while I looked at armor.  

“Thinking about it?” asked Momo.   

“Ehh… Maybe? Honestly, I love my overalls. It’s kinda hard to want to wear anything else since…”  

“I mean, I get it. Armor’s bulky.” Momo tapped the thick helmet with her knuckles. “Even a kobold would be slowed if they wore this thing.”  

“Could you tell me about this?” I turned around and saw a rapier that had garnered Albert’s attention. It was thin and narrow, but it looked like the one he wielded when we fought in Viridian’s mansion.   

Elaine gently handed the slender blade to Albert, the black hilt smooth in his grasp. As he received it, the craftsmanship became apparent – the intricate design on the hilt revealed the skilled hands that had forged it. The blade glinted with a subtle sheen, a testament to the metal's quality. Elaine said her father forged it some time ago, but he didn’t like it because it was too thin and narrow for his liking.    

Albert's fingers traced the patterns, appreciating the artistic touch. "Your father might not have liked it, Elaine, but there's a grace in its simplicity," he remarked, his eyes studying the blade's form. "Sometimes, a weapon doesn't need to be bulky to be effective. May I practice with it?"  

With a nod from Elaine, Albert stepped into a practiced stance, the blade an extension of his arm. In a swift motion, he performed a series of deft thrusts, the blade slicing through the air with a whisper-like precision. The slender form of the weapon belied its effectiveness, and as Albert completed the flurry of movements, a satisfied smile played on his lips.  

"It may be thin, but it has a finesse to it," Albert noted, returning the blade to Elaine.  

“Is that what you want?” I asked as Momo clapped.    

Suddenly, the floor rumbled, but it didn’t come from an earthquake.   

It…was caused by cheering?   

“Oh, that’s what I’m talking about! That’s the good shit!” The voice was muffled.  

“I’m sorry! That’s Daddy and his friends,” Elaine apologized. She stomped the floor thrice. Her nervous smile betrayed her calm demeanor. “I told him to keep it down, but he loves his training matches.”  

“Training? What do you mean?” Before she answered, a door slammed open. A sticky, sweaty dwarf with a beard much too large for his oval head waddled through. He only wore black pants and a leather apron. He was…definitely a 'character.'    

“I’m sorry, porkchop, but the fight was too much! You should’ve seen it!”   

“I can’t do that, Daddy, because someone has to run the shop! Miss Saline is back! And she brought customers!” Saline whispered that his name was Edgar.    

“Oh? Hmm?” Edgar eyed Albert and the weapon he wanted. He didn’t look too pleased with it. “No. I can’t sell it to you.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You’re a spirit, aren’t you?” Albert nodded. “I don’t sell to spirits. I sell to their summoner, but only if I approve of them. And you? Whaa—”  

Thwap!  

Elaine smacked her dad across the neck and told him to apologize. “Nonsense! I have a reputation to uphold, porkchop!” he declared.   

“Eddy! Get your ass back down here!!!” A muffled voice erupted from below.    

“Imma coming! Hold your damn horses!” He stomped thrice.   

I think I know where Elaine gets it from, Servi.   

“You didn’t test me when Cassidy took me here.”  

“That’s because you’re not a summoner, knife ear. But…” Edgar looked me up and down. “How do you fight? Do you remain back and let your spirits work for you? Or do you put your body on the line?”  

“I fight on the front line.”  

“You lying to me?”  

“Nope.”  

“Can you back up those words?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you know your way around a brawl?”  

“I’ve been in a bar fight or two. Why?”  

Edgar explained that he and a few other shops regularly held fighting matches. These weren’t officially sanctioned by the city, but they weren’t illegal if they presented themselves as practice or training bouts. A legal loophole-- if you will-- that came with restrictions I didn’t frankly care about.   

“That goes for 500, but I’ll knock the price if you impress me enough.”  

“Eh? Servi, are you going through with this?” Sissy touched my arm.   

“Why not? We’ve seen how awesome she is at fighting. She took a hit from Suusa, and it didn’t even fracture her arms. Remember the fight with the golem?”   

“A golem, you say?”  

“That’s right,” I replied. Edgar wasn’t that impressed. His daughter nervously bit her lips, her face showing her slight uneasiness. I asked if summoners had an unsavory reputation, and Momo said some people looked down on them since it wasn’t rare for summoners to force all the work onto their spirits.   

I obviously wasn’t like that. I said so—Albert did, too— but it didn’t seem like Edgar believed us.   

“What are you going to do?” asked Momo.   

“You don’t have to fight.”  

“Why not?” I answered Albert. “Do you have a good reason for me to refuse?”  

“No, not necessarily. I have no doubt you’d emerge as the winner.” Albert asked the rules while Edgar scoffed at the Bicornkin’s confidence in his ‘summoner.’  

“Ten rounds that last three minutes with one minute of rest or five rounds of six minutes with two minutes of rest. Matches end when one fighter is unable to continue. If you go the distance, the winner is decided by a crowd vote at the end.”  

“Any limitations?”  

“Arcton fights are for sport. Bleeding will naturally happen, but we do not go for the kill. The referee can preemptively end a match, and their word is law.”  

“Servy?” Momo looked at me. Her eyes glanced at the phone when it buzzed in her arms.   

“Okay. I’m in. I mean, what do I have to lose?”  

“That’s what I’m talking about! Come on, lass! Follow me!”  

Elaine profusely apologized for her father’s behavior as he led us downstairs to a surprisingly large basement. A fighting ring was constructed in the middle, surrounded by chairs filled with about three dozen people—a mixture of humans and non-humans.    

A canopy was at the room’s end, and I saw twenty people—men and women of different races—all with wounds, injuries, and bruised knuckles and scales.    

The lighting was dull and dim from the nearby lanterns. The thick scent of smoke from cigars and cigarettes was everywhere, almost obscuring the room in a foggy haze. Momo coughed and covered her mouth. Cue was low enough to the ground to not be that affected.    

“Sorry about that, lassie,” said Edgar. “Oi! Someone get that vent open! Let’s get a breeze flowing through! You, use your magic.” He pointed to a koena. She nodded, pulled a cord, and cast a spell to whoosh the dirty air out while bringing in something fresh. The difference was night and day.   

“Eh? Is the ogre fighting?” asked a kobold.   

Edgar shook his head.   

“The rhino, then?”  

“Try again.”  

“The Bicornkin?” proposed a gnome.   

“Your sexism is showing, my short friend,” said a man with the head of a tiger. “It’s you? The one with the overalls?”   

“That’s right. I want to buy a weapon, but he won’t let me. I'm a spirit summoner.”  

 “Don’t tell me you stick to that bullshit rule, Edgar?”  

“Oi! I have it for a reason, you know!”  

“And what? You’re going to make her fight? Isn’t that unfair?” asked the Tigerkin.    

“The world’s unfair, Sicor. I didn’t force her to do this. Nothing's worse than a spineless summoner who blames others for their failures.”  

He’s projecting awfully hard.   

Edgar told me to go to the tent, and I did. Momo and the others grabbed a seat by the ring. 

Part Two of this will be up next Monday, but uploads might be 1x a week for a week or two. I need to do some more editing, but I don't have that much time in the near future. 


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