“Oh, my!” Dema yelped out. “Damn, that’s big!”
The both of them had just left a brimming forest filled with high trees and now found themselves in front of a gigantic cliff. Theora looked to the left and the right, and apparently, they had walked into a cone, with the cliff pinching off their path. The forest flora hugged the stone closely to both sides.
“There used to be a tunnel here,” she said. “A long time ago. I remember passing through it. It must have collapsed.”
“Cool!” Dema cheered, as if that piece of information was some random trivia about the moons.
“Then, let’s go back,” Theora suggested, and turned around to re-enter the forest. “There should be a path around, if I remember correctly. About a two-month detour. Should be fine.”
“Wait, what?” Dema stared back, not moving a muscle. “Why don’t we go through? Ain’t ya, like, the strongest heroine in the world? You must have a way to cut through a cliff or two?”
Theora turned to face her companion. She didn’t know what to say. Of course, she could [Obliterate] the cliff. But she most definitely was not going to do so. Instead, she just looked back, lost.
“Well, that’s a big shame.” Dema shrugged. “If you can’t even do that, we could… like, at least climb? That sounds fun, right? You must have a climbing Skill!”
Theora looked up the cliff. It was several trees tall, reaching far into the sky. “Climbing is effort,” she said.
Dema rolled her eyes. “Alright. I see. Uhm. Can I… help out?”
“Help out with what?” Theora asked. “We aren’t in a pinch. I mean, granted, we somewhat literally are in a pinch, but we can just walk back and around.”
“But that’s gonna take so long!” Dema whined. “You’re out to make this side quest your last, huh?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I’m pretty sure you are!”
“What is this help you want to offer?”
Dema looked sheepish for a second, biting her lip and hiding her arms behind her back. “Well, a Skill. I have a perfect Skill for this. Am I allowed to use it?”
Theora shook her head ever so slightly, a hint of bewilderment carved into her brows. “You do not need to ask for permission to use Skills,” Theora said.
“I don’t?” Dema’s hair and coat were being tousled by the wind, and she looked genuinely puzzled for a second.
“No?”
A short silence ensued. They both stared at each other until Dema mumbled, “I just thought… Well. I thought if I used a Skill, you might see that as stepping outta line, being hostile and such, and, like, get rid of me before I can kill you? You know. So I’ve been holding back?”
Theora froze.
Of course. Yes. Dema was doing well at hiding it, but she was probably terrified of Theora every single second of her life. And rightly so, because one day, Theora would decide to kill her.
Or, more accurately, Theora was hoping for the day when Dema didn’t feel like living anymore and gave her permission to end all this. She had communicated as much, but it wasn’t surprising that Dema wouldn’t believe it.
“I would not see you using a Skill as a threat,” Theora tried to explain, raising her hands slightly in a rare emphasising gesture. “I told you before. You cannot win against me. Cannot conspire against me with any hope of success. Cannot even harm me. It is all futile. I would never interpret you using a Skill as a reason to kill you.” She made a step towards Dema. “I realise that, considering our arrangement, these words may sound empty, but let me try to assert this regardless: You do not need my permission to do anything.”
The words came out cool and collected, and yet had an amount of urgency behind them that very much was unlike her.
“Well, some of my Skills are kinda strong and scary,” Dema mumbled, but she tried her best to seem convinced.
“I am not afraid of you. No behaviour you could show would change that.”
“Alright, damn, fine!” Dema grumbled and walked towards the cliff. “No telling me I didn’t warn you!”
As she said these words, she touched the stone. A second later, the earth began to tremble as she muttered the name of a Skill.
[Reshape Earth].
From the origin of her hand, an impossible jerking motion rippled through the entire cliff, rocking through it in a wave, with a strong pulse moving straight up. The earth rumbled in a deep and desperate sound, as if gravely upset by being forced into impossible motions.
Then, the cliff parted. Bit by bit, from Dema’s hand upwards, a crevice opened up and widened, revealing more and more of what became a dark and narrow path forward. From the woods, swarms of birds erupted, chirping away as they fled towards the horizon.
It only took a few seconds in total until the Skill was finished. With a proud smile on her face, Dema looked back, only to find Theora’s eyes widened and her gaze filled with terror.
“What have you done?” she asked, making a step back.
“Wait, what?” Dema asked. “I made a path! You told me I can do what I want!”
Theora swallowed hard. “I told you that you don’t need my permission,” she clarified. “That doesn’t make you exempt from my criticism.”
Dema boggled at her. “That— What? You tricked me!” she cried out, and then added, “What’s wrong with this, anyway? What did I do?”
“You made a permanent change.” Although Theora’s voice was calm, she still seemed unsettled. “We can’t run around and change the world to our pleasing. If we do, we’ll leave it in ruins.”
“Oh, come on,” Dema waved off. “It’s just a little tiny thing.”
“Yes, and every ‘little tiny thing’ will stick and stack. To an immortal being, I do not recommend making permanent changes for little inconveniences like a two-month round-trip. You will destroy the world you are trying to live in.”
Dema scrunched up her face like this concept was completely foreign to her. “The hell? Why do you care, anyway? You’ll live a hundred years tops, don’t worry so much about leaving a lil’ mark!” Throughout that last sentence, her tone had switched back to being teasing and light-hearted. “Come on! Alright, sorry, I didn’t know you’d feel this bad about it. I’m not gonna do it again. Out of respect, by the way, not because you’re being convincing or anything. Your logic’s, like, really lousy. Change ain’t that bad!”
Theora simply shook her head and started moving towards the newformed chasm.
“Why, so we’re gonna use it after all, huh?” Dema said with a grin. “Oh, my! All happy to get angry at me, but you’re still fine using the fruits of my labour!”
“I wasn’t being angry with you.”
“Oh, you so were!”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You can be such a child,” said Dema, of all people. “I suppose it makes sense for a cute little rabbit, though. You’ve still got a lot to learn!”
“Do I, now,” Theora mumbled. “I see you still haven’t noticed.”
“Noticed what?” Dema asked, but Theora didn’t dignify her with an answer.
With a quick glance, she looked at the details of her side quest again. Being awake really slowed things down, didn’t it? She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep this up. The truth was, even though she slept less now, her body and mind ached even more. If only an opportunity presented itself to give her the chance for endless sleep.
Time remaining: 86 years.
“Oh, my!” Dema yelped out. “Damn, that’s big!”
The both of them had just left a brimming forest filled with high trees and now found themselves in front of a gigantic cliff. Theora looked to the left and the right, and apparently, they had walked into a cone, with the cliff pinching off their path. The forest flora hugged the stone closely to both sides.
“There used to be a tunnel here,” she said. “A long time ago. I remember passing through it. It must have collapsed.”
“Cool!” Dema cheered, as if that piece of information was some random trivia about the moons.
“Then, let’s go back,” Theora suggested, and turned around to re-enter the forest. “There should be a path around, if I remember correctly. About a two-month detour. Should be fine.”
“Wait, what?” Dema stared back, not moving a muscle. “Why don’t we go through? Ain’t ya, like, the strongest heroine in the world? You must have a way to cut through a cliff or two?”
Theora turned to face her companion. She didn’t know what to say. Of course, she could [Obliterate] the cliff. But she most definitely was not going to do so. Instead, she just looked back, lost.
“Well, that’s a big shame.” Dema shrugged. “If you can’t even do that, we could… like, at least climb? That sounds fun, right? You must have a climbing Skill!”
Theora looked up the cliff. It was several trees tall, reaching far into the sky. “Climbing is effort,” she said.
Dema rolled her eyes. “Alright. I see. Uhm. Can I… help out?”
“Help out with what?” Theora asked. “We aren’t in a pinch. I mean, granted, we somewhat literally are in a pinch, but we can just walk back and around.”
“But that’s gonna take so long!” Dema whined. “You’re out to make this side quest your last, huh?”
“No, I’m not.”
“I’m pretty sure you are!”
“What is this help you want to offer?”
Dema looked sheepish for a second, biting her lip and hiding her arms behind her back. “Well, a Skill. I have a perfect Skill for this. Am I allowed to use it?”
Theora shook her head ever so slightly, a hint of bewilderment carved into her brows. “You do not need to ask for permission to use Skills,” Theora said.
“I don’t?” Dema’s hair and coat were being tousled by the wind, and she looked genuinely puzzled for a second.
“No?”
A short silence ensued. They both stared at each other until Dema mumbled, “I just thought… Well. I thought if I used a Skill, you might see that as stepping outta line, being hostile and such, and, like, get rid of me before I can kill you? You know. So I’ve been holding back?”
Theora froze.
Of course. Yes. Dema was doing well at hiding it, but she was probably terrified of Theora every single second of her life. And rightly so, because one day, Theora would decide to kill her.
Or, more accurately, Theora was hoping for the day when Dema didn’t feel like living anymore and gave her permission to end all this. She had communicated as much, but it wasn’t surprising that Dema wouldn’t believe it.
“I would not see you using a Skill as a threat,” Theora tried to explain, raising her hands slightly in a rare emphasising gesture. “I told you before. You cannot win against me. Cannot conspire against me with any hope of success. Cannot even harm me. It is all futile. I would never interpret you using a Skill as a reason to kill you.” She made a step towards Dema. “I realise that, considering our arrangement, these words may sound empty, but let me try to assert this regardless: You do not need my permission to do anything.”
The words came out cool and collected, and yet had an amount of urgency behind them that very much was unlike her.
“Well, some of my Skills are kinda strong and scary,” Dema mumbled, but she tried her best to seem convinced.
“I am not afraid of you. No behaviour you could show would change that.”
“Alright, damn, fine!” Dema grumbled and walked towards the cliff. “No telling me I didn’t warn you!”
As she said these words, she touched the stone. A second later, the earth began to tremble as she muttered the name of a Skill.
[Reshape Earth].
From the origin of her hand, an impossible jerking motion rippled through the entire cliff, rocking through it in a wave, with a strong pulse moving straight up. The earth rumbled in a deep and desperate sound, as if gravely upset by being forced into impossible motions.
Then, the cliff parted. Bit by bit, from Dema’s hand upwards, a crevice opened up and widened, revealing more and more of what became a dark and narrow path forward. From the woods, swarms of birds erupted, chirping away as they fled towards the horizon.
It only took a few seconds in total until the Skill was finished. With a proud smile on her face, Dema looked back, only to find Theora’s eyes widened and her gaze filled with terror.
“What have you done?” she asked, making a step back.
“Wait, what?” Dema asked. “I made a path! You told me I can do what I want!”
Theora swallowed hard. “I told you that you don’t need my permission,” she clarified. “That doesn’t make you exempt from my criticism.”
Dema boggled at her. “That— What? You tricked me!” she cried out, and then added, “What’s wrong with this, anyway? What did I do?”
“You made a permanent change.” Although Theora’s voice was calm, she still seemed unsettled. “We can’t run around and change the world to our pleasing. If we do, we’ll leave it in ruins.”
“Oh, come on,” Dema waved off. “It’s just a little tiny thing.”
“Yes, and every ‘little tiny thing’ will stick and stack. To an immortal being, I do not recommend making permanent changes for little inconveniences like a two-month round-trip. You will destroy the world you are trying to live in.”
Dema scrunched up her face like this concept was completely foreign to her. “The hell? Why do you care, anyway? You’ll live a hundred years tops, don’t worry so much about leaving a lil’ mark!” Throughout that last sentence, her tone had switched back to being teasing and light-hearted. “Come on! Alright, sorry, I didn’t know you’d feel this bad about it. I’m not gonna do it again. Out of respect, by the way, not because you’re being convincing or anything. Your logic’s, like, really lousy. Change ain’t that bad!”
Theora simply shook her head and started moving towards the newformed chasm.
“Why, so we’re gonna use it after all, huh?” Dema said with a grin. “Oh, my! All happy to get angry at me, but you’re still fine using the fruits of my labour!”
“I wasn’t being angry with you.”
“Oh, you so were!”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You can be such a child,” said Dema, of all people. “I suppose it makes sense for a cute little rabbit, though. You’ve still got a lot to learn!”
“Do I, now,” Theora mumbled. “I see you still haven’t noticed.”
“Noticed what?” Dema asked, but Theora didn’t dignify her with an answer.
With a quick glance, she looked at the details of her side quest again. Being awake really slowed things down, didn’t it? She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep this up. The truth was, even though she slept less now, her body and mind ached even more. If only an opportunity presented itself to give her the chance for endless sleep.
Time remaining: 86 years.
