Fisher King
There were no prey for Gisena's blast-fishing experiment in the river, but scarce hours later they encountered a picturesque lake, freshwater glittering in the sun and spanning very nearly to the horizon. Lilies bobbed across its expansive surface as birds and bugs circled lazily about, the halcyon chorus of life uninterrupted.
"Well, this is downright idyllic!" Gisena exclaimed, spinning around to face the water. She skipped happily down to the shore, humming as she went.
"It's downright suspicious." He followed, keeping his eyes peeled. They'd spoken of fishing, and a fishing spot appeared. It could be benign, the world yielding to his whims on this small matter - a faint echo of the causality-bending influence he'd once exerted by sheer power of spirit.
Long seconds passed. Nothing struck at them, from ambush or otherwise; he settled into a watchful wariness.
Letrizia had Verschlengorge extend a hand over the water, acting as a makeshift pier. He carved a rudimentary fishing rod from a branch and some wire, while Gisena tinkered with one of the Armament's dumb-fire munitions, its fuses safely set aside.
"You go first," he handed Letrizia the rod, and some processed meat for bait. "It's simple. Flick the rod to cast the line and wait."
"A-alright." Letrizia took the rod from him and cast the line with a determined expression. "How long does it usually take?"
"Depends," he shrugged. "Could be minutes, could be hours."
"That long?" She asked petulantly. "Couldn't you hunt the fish with your physical power? You slew an Astral beast the size of a giant!"
"I'd rather rest for a time," he replied, settling in. "That bandit leader was well-equipped and skilled. I exerted myself more than I'd like. The well of my power has thinned."
"Hmph," She tossed her hair primly. "So, we're to await your pleasure while you rest? You could just as easily sleep while Verschlengorge is moving."
"Yes, you're to wait," he said dryly. "And fish."
"A-ah."
They sat in silence for a bit.
"W-well, that's just totally unreasonable!" She finally said, turning to glare at him.
"I never told you I was going to be reasonable."
"That's true... Wait, I-I mean, you shouldn't have to tell people that! Reasonableness is the expected order of things!"
"Do as you like. I'm resting here."
"Mmh..." Letrizia slouched unhappily.
He chewed on a stalk of grass. "Hey. What do you think our chances of getting out of here are? Eight out of ten? Nine?"
"At least nine, I'd hope! Both you and Miss Gisena are strong... maybe ninety-five out of a hundred times we should escape? As long as we don't have too many encounters like today."
"I tend to attract trouble. So does this guy." He gestured towards the Armament with his head.
"Hmph! True enough. Maybe if you were a bit more reasonable, that wouldn't be the case."
"Fire me if you like. I'll retire and become a fisherman."
She laughed. "I'd like to see that!"
"Point is, we don't know exactly what the future will bring, or if we're all going to make it. It's worthwhile to look around and enjoy this place every once in a while. Steal what joy you can."
Letrizia looked down, her expression conflicted. "You're right. You're right, of course, but..."
He closed his eyes, letting his instincts guide him. "You feel like you don't have time for that. That people are depending on you. That if you don't achieve what you've set out to achieve, it will all have been for nothing."
She gasped. "H-how did you-"
"I felt the same, once." He paused, thinking carefully.
"There was a magic in my second world. Hard to quantify or explain. As you accumulated power you could do impossible feats. My enemy was very skilled in it. He'd spent centuries upon centuries gathering strength. Fighting him was like fighting the tide. Endless setbacks every week. Whenever we failed, people died. Whenever we didn't act, people died. I fought him for eleven years. If we hadn't taken what moments we could, however brief, we would have lasted... maybe five or six. That final stretch, it was only the strength that I'd gained in those moments which kept me going."
She blushed. "I-I get it. You d-didn't have to make a whole speech and everything."
"Stupid."
"What?"
"'You didn't have to make a whole speech and everything, stupid.' Say it properly. What is the nobility coming to these days?"
"You! Aaah... I was trying so hard not to be a stereotype! Is this how everyone sees me, even you and Miss Gisena? That stupid Old Terra show..."
"I don't remember much. Bits and pieces. But you have to admit... the Armament. And you kind of look like her."
"Yeah. Neuron Genesis Cathedrelion, right? It's been a joke for almost as long as we've had the Armaments. I even got implants to change my hair..."
"What?" He sat up. "So you're a natural redhead as well?"
Her hair shimmered for a moment, then shifted to a shade of fiery red. "Y-yeah. I thought white was more professional and would break the association, but everyone was like, 'That's exactly what she'd do!'"
"Don't fight it. Embrace it. Then people will naturally see the areas where you're different."
"Oh? L-like what?"
"You're childish at times, but on balance I'd say you're much more level-headed and mature than she was. She always acted like she had something to prove. You're truly comfortable piloting Verschlengorge. You and he have a good connection. Though not as good as mine with my sword."
"Well," She said quietly, failing to contain a smile. "I am five years older. Of course I'd be more mature!"
He nodded, leaning back down again.
"Hey," She spoke up again. "That magic from your old world. It sounds a bit like the power of the Armaments. Have you ever heard of the concept of Astral Rank?"
"We didn't formally name it or anything. If you lived and did great things, you grew powerful. As your power grew, the world started to yield to you. First in small ways, then increasingly so."
"It's actually a field of study that I dabble in. A hobby of mine!"
She shifted to face him directly, tracing figures in the air with her index finger. "The most commonly used analogy is this. So, you know how objects within the physical realm have a property called mass?"
"Sure."
"Mass distorts physical space. Some say the curvature of that distortion is called gravity."
"Okay."
"Similarly, some entities have a property we call 'Rank.' Rank distorts the Astral realm as mass does the physical, and the curvature of that distortion is called 'Pressure.' By exerting Pressure, an Armament can accomplish great feats. It's an amazing ability! Rank gives you the power to achieve the conventionally impossible, to overturn the system of the world, to blast with awe and with fear, greatness undiluted like a blazing star! It cares nothing for stipulations or prognostications. It is the sharp bright sword of will that cuts to the heart of the matter, bringing mere physical law to heel!"
"...I get it. You didn't have to make a whole speech and everything, stupid."
Before her shocked expression could subside, he gently raised a hand.
"Just kidding. It was a wonderful explanation. Did you write that? It sounds like more than just a hobby to you."
"Mm-hm!" She grunted, her face still red. She cleared her throat. "I'm hoping to present it at a Symposium one day. The Armaments have been with us for millennia, but we still don't understand all their secrets. Even most pilots only know the basics! You compress your Armament's Pressure into a Shroud and that makes you unstoppable within its radius. But recent studies have shown that even humans can develop a Rank! If we properly apply ourselves, we can go so much farther as a species, and even as individuals! It wouldn't much surprise me if your powers operated off a similar principle!"
"A shadow in the Spirit realm, huh... Let's test it. It sounds like your society has developed quantified measurements for this attribute."
"Yup. Rank is usually measured from 1 to 10 in a hyper-logarithmic scale, though values above that should be possible. An Ereadhihr - an Armament - at full theoretical strength is Rank 10. No amount of physical force can so much as impair their actions! We've made some Armor Prototypes that manage to reach the middle ranks, enough to outclass conventional weapons in dogfighting or ground combat scenarios, though no number of them could even compete with an Armament. Individual humans typically have a Rank between 1 and 3, with anything above 2 being exceptionally rare."
"That fits my observations of your Armament as well. Its full potential is well beyond even that of my enemy at his height. Ereadhihr. The language of the Foremost?"
"That's right! You have good instincts for this sort of thing." She hummed happily. "Ereadhihr, the Elder Implement. They weren't just a weapon to the Foremost. The Foremost could harness them for countless tasks, bend realms both physical and Astral to their whims, apply the Interdict of Cognition that immunizes us from rampant intelligences, and so much more!"
He turned to glance at Verschlengorge. "Did they pull the ladder up behind them? Prevent anyone from making more?"
"Ah, no, we don't think they did anything like that. But... it's complicated. To create a true Armament, an entity with the potential to reach such elevated Rank, there's a special component involved. A sort of... Curse that's inextricable from its core essence. Verschlengorge has one as well, of course. It's called... the Affliction of the Decimator."
---
[ ] Spill - There's no way this is a coincidence. The only question is, is this the work of the Accursed, or of the Apocryphal Curse? Whatever the case, you need answers. Tell Letrizia a reasonable amount about your own circumstances, the power you command and the Curses you bear. [+Letrizia]
[ ] Keep Your Own Counsel - See if you can get more information out of her without disclosing anything about your particular circumstances. It's good to trust; better to trust after you hold all the cards. You've barely known her half a week. You can always tell her more when she proves herself a reliable ally. [+0.5 Arete]
Though you intend to rest, fishing is serious business. How much should you exert yourself in catching the fish?
[ ] None - You'll conserve your energy. You are already wounded, no need to become winded as well.
[ ] Substantially - Show 'em how it's done. [+Letrizia, +Improved Nutrition, Tired Condition]
[ ] Of Fishermen, A King - The sharp bright sword of will that cuts to the heart of these waters and brings their mightiest bounty to heel! [+???, +Legendary Fish, +Gisena, -1 Arete or Exhausted condition]