Chapter Two Hundred and Thirty-One - A Crysis​

“So, what’s this about needing transportation?” Amaryllis asked. The words were a bit rude, but her tone was surprisingly business-like.

Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole--and gosh, we really did need a nickname for them--bobbed up and down. “We seek passage to the Lonely Island, for ourselves and one other.”

“I think we can do that,” I said. I couldn’t help the eager grin. This wasn’t a full-blown adventure, but it wasn’t too far from it!

“Assuming you can pay, of course,” Amaryllis said.

I pouted. Money stuff was boring, but I couldn’t fault Amaryllis. We had fuel to buy, a pantry to keep stocked, wages to pay and neat things to pick up along the way. Awen was doing most of our maintenance, but maybe we’d need specialized help at some point, which would also cost money.

The cry shifted, and for the first time I noticed a little leather pouch tucked against its side. The flap on it opened all on its own, and a small device came floating out of it. It looked like a mini-typewriter that had been driven over by a semi-trailer. It was all squished and covered in little rods and levers, there was even a little crystal poking out of it.

The cry held it up before them and Amaryllis looked at the device. “You know, I can’t understand them, right?”

“Uh, they’re not saying anything,” I said. “What is that?”

“It is a communication device, to call and receive items stored elsewhere.”

Like Amaryllis’ banking ring!

The device started to click and clack as the buttons and levers upon it were pressed in and turned in quick succession. I felt the barest flicker of something before a coin appeared, then another and another. Soon, some two dozen golden coins were floating around the device before, with a snap, then all stacked together into two golden rods.

“We hope this is sufficient remuneration for the journey. We are prepared to give the same amount once again upon our arrival.”

I translated that for Amaryllis, and she nodded. “For a trip that’ll only take two days, that’s a very good payment, which leaves me very suspicious. What sort of trouble are you bringing with you?”

“Amaryllis, just because they’re generous doesn’t mean that they have any sort of ulterior motives,” I said.

“We must admit to some ulterior motives,” the cry said.

My mouth shut with a clack of teeth. Oh.

“What is it?” I asked.

“The one we wish to bring with us is young, a shard not yet made whole, and one that will never reach oneness. They are a shard of growth.”

I translated that as best I could. “Do you know what that means?” I asked.

Amaryllis shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything to me,” she said.

“Forgive us, we forget that not all know as much about us as we do. It is sufficient to know that this young shard represents what some would consider a danger in our society. They should have been broken, according to our laws, but we and some others do not see things that way. The simplest, and best, solution would be to merely move them to a new home. The Lonely Island is a place where we have brought other similar shards.”

I didn’t understand entirely. The other cry they wanted to get was somehow dangerous, and had to be brought elsewhere for... their own protection? Or maybe it was to protect the rest of the cry? “Are they going to be trouble on the trip over?” I asked.

The cry shifted from side to side. “They are young, and perhaps inquisitive, but troublesome they are not.”

I looked at Amaryllis, then back to Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole. “Okay,” I said. “Are you going to bring them over? You can pay us after you’ve returned.”

The cry started to bob, then aborted the gesture. “We... would appreciate some assistance. The little shard cannot yet fly of their own accord, and we are trying to avoid the notice of other cry within this city.”

“You’re not exactly hard to notice,” Amaryllis said once I translated.

“Forgive us, we may have miscommunicated. We, ourselves, are under no danger. It would be wrong, and distasteful, for another cry to attack a whole member of our society. It would simply not occur. We are under no danger. The shard is offered no such protections.”

“I’ll go with you then,” I said.

“Alone?” Amaryllis asked.

I shrugged. “I guess?”

She shook her head. “You idiot, you’re inviting trouble. I’ll get Bastion. Awen is still fixing things in the engine room and I’m too busy to be running around and carrying things. That’s grunt work.”

“But I’m not too busy for that?” I asked.

“No,” she said before walking off and heading towards Bastion, who was practicing at the rear of the ship.

Soon enough, the sylph was joining us on the pier while Amaryllis took our gold and went down to stash it.

“So,” Bastion said as he adjusted his belt. He didn’t have his full suit of armour on, just the padded jerkin he wore underneath and his big metal-shod boots with his pants tucked in. “I hear that I’m needed?”

“Your assistance would be welcome, soft one,” our new cry buddy said.

I translated again, and Bastion nodded. “It would be my pleasure,” he said before gesturing ahead. “Please, lead the way.”

We started to follow the cry as they floated ahead of us. It seemed like the best speed they could manage wasn’t much faster than a brisk walk, which was fine; it gave me more time to think of a cool nickname.

Their name as an acronym was... SWCTSOW. SaWaCTaSOW? No, that was too strange, and besides, who was I to decide on someone’s vowels. Maybe just Compassion then? Or Crystal. That was a real name. Well, so was their name, of course. Blue? On account of their colour?

Coming up with a good nickname was hard.

“So, Miss Bunch,” Bastion said.

“You know, you could just call me Broccoli,” I said. “Or Broc. We’re friends, no need to be all formal and such.”

“Of course. It’s a difficult habit to break,” he said.

I bumped his shoulder with mine. It was a little strange; Bastion was an adult, and a boy, but he was still a bunch shorter than me. “That’s okay. It’s never wrong to be polite. But not having to be as polite with friends is one of the fun things about having friends,” I said.

“I suppose,” Bastion said. “By the way, I’m impressed that you speak cry. I know that Syphfree has had diplomats who could understand it before, but they required a very specific combination of skills to do so. More to be able to communicate back.”

“Oh,” I said. “It’s a riftwalker thing, I think.”

Bastion sighed. “Yes, of course it is.”

“Wait, did I never tell you?” I... couldn’t remember telling him. I was an awful friend.

“No, you didn’t. But I’m not entirely ignorant. If anything it gives credence to your having received a quest from the World.”

“Oh, cool,” I said.

“Do try to avoid spreading that around; it’s the sort of thing that’s best kept to oneself.”

I nodded. I could totally keep a secret.

Our nickname-less cry friend led us out of the docks and down a wide stairwell and onto what looked like it might be one of the city’s main roads. It was wider than the others we’d been on, and had a glass ceiling over parts of it, allowing natural light to brighten the place up.

We kept walking--and in their case floating-- for a while until we turned down a second staircase and found ourselves on a much narrower road.

“We reserved a room at this inn,” they said as they floated into the courtyard of a small inn. A sign was bolted to one wall, a bit of rust leaking off of it staining the paint below. ‘The Walled Inn. Cheap Beds, Cheaper Meals.’

“A quality establishment,” Bastion deadpanned.

“We do not require food for sustenance, nor do we have much need for space,” the cry explained.

I translated absently while looking around. It did look a little tacky and cheap. “Which room is yours?”

The cry, instead of answering, hovered over to one door and pulled their little gadget out of their pouch again. Soon they summoned a key which unlocked the door. “We will need to cover the shard with cloth, to keep them hidden,” they said as they entered. “It is Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole. We have found some soft ones willing to carry us to our final destination.”

I stepped in after them while Bastion took up a position next to the door.

The interior of the room was a bit cramped. There was a bed tucked in the corner, with a night stand next to it. No windows on the walls, but one on the ceiling, strangely enough. It did illuminate the room, but I wasn’t sure if that was for the best. It was the dingiest, dirtiest inn room I’d ever seen. I was sure any of the innkeepers I’d befriended would have had a fit at seeing the peeling wallpaper and broken furniture.

The cry took up a good portion of the room’s space, and it wasn’t until they shifted to the side that I saw our second passenger.

They were a cry too, of course, but unlike the bigger, bulkier one I’d met, they were slim and jagged, their body curved around in a sort of half-moon shape. “Little shard, this is the soft one with which we will travel.”

“Hello!” I said.

The littler cry floated a bit closer, then started to tip over to one side, as if they were top heavy. “Hello,” they replied, their voice a high pitched chime. “I-- we are a Shard of Mountaintopper’s Growth, Fourth Shard, and not Yet Whole.”

“I’m Broccoli Bunch!” I said. “I guess I’m my mom and dad’s shard? Uh, is that how it works?”

The shard made a tinkling sound, like crystal cups being shaken together. Laughter? “I don’t think it’s how it works for soft ones.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Ah, it’s going to become hard to talk to both of you if you don’t have shorter names. No offence?”

“We understand,” the larger cry said. “Soft one names are difficult for us as well. They are often meaningless. And when they do have meaning, such as your name, vegetable pile, it is often a meaning that puzzles more than enlightens.”

I held back a giggle and nodded. “I get it. So do you have nicknames? I could call you Blue, and this cutie I could call... Moonie? Because you look like a moon!”

The newly named Blue bobbed. “We accept this temporary name with the gravity it was given.”

“Moon-Shaped is an acceptable name,” Moonie said.

“Do cry do hugs?” I asked.

“Broc,” Bastion barked, his voice tense. “I think we have trouble.”

I spun and rushed to the door to look out. It didn’t take much looking to see what Bastion was talking about. A pair of cry, both about as big as Blue, though one was far more jagged and sharp-looking. They were hovering closer to us, a deep bell-toll sound coming from them that didn’t quite mean anything but still made me think of the hum of a wasp’s wings.

“Shard of Waterwatches Compassion, Third Split and One Whole, we are aware that you are within this building. Surrender the broken,” One of them chimed.

I reached out, grabbed Bastion, and yanked him in before snapping the door shut. “Okay! Time to leave, I think.”

“I will confront them,” Blue said. “No harm will befall me. Escape with the Brok-- with the Moon-Shaped one.”

“Ah, right. Are there other doors around?”

Bastion pointed to the window in the ceiling.

“Well then,” I said. “Let’s make a big escape!”

***