FMH: Everything ~ One

Luke the Murderhobo slouched in a chair crafted of vines and living wood, staring sullenly at the lush, verdant paradise he found himself in. Every once in a while, a tree branch would slightly extend toward him, offering fruit, nuts, or vegetables—strangely enough. The oddly solicitous vegetation was not why he was in a funk. Luke didn’t mind the ready access to food, and the view was enjoyable… even if the unnatural motion of the encompassing flora screamed at his senses that it must be destroyed for invading his space.

No, the reasons for his displeasure were far more simple than his idyllic haven might suggest. Five years had passed in this world since he’d had a true challenge. With the death of the Corrupted Nature Dragon, along with the exquisite growth that he had been able to find for himself and Cookie, he had imagined that the next several years would be filled with opportunities for advancement and combat.

Instead, he had spent nearly half a decade scouring the edges of the expanding forest, searching for any annoyance-relieving open Scar that he could step into without his Sigil setting his nerves on fire and forcing him to step away. Each time he had found something that he had deemed useful, Luke had been forced to close it, due to the sheer threat level of the contents of the portal. To his ever-mounting irritation, every time he had found something boring and not worth pursuing, his Skills wouldn't allow him to close it, identifying it as useful to the kingdom that controlled him.

Frankly, there had been another annoyance he had been forced to deal with. When their party had first defeated the Corrupted Nature Dragon, Taylor had sent a report to the kingdom. With her mind unchained from its original level, no longer forced to its innately inflexible, duty-bound, or practically childish temperament, the Mage had allowed herself to keep the details sparse. Specifically, she had not destroyed team morale once again by divulging each of the rewards they had earned, thereby offering them to the kingdom on a silver platter.

However, because the report had been so bare of details, The Four had been punished with a ‘reduced ability’ to enter their alternate worlds and gain power easily. In Luke’s case, he had gone from being able to enter Murder World once per thirty days to once per sixty. Directly halving the amount of time that he was able to enter that world had infuriated him beyond belief. Luke had spent the greater part of his time searching for any form of combat challenge—any way to hone himself or maintain his battle sense at his desired level—but once he had reached the maximum range of the Scarrocco Desert and visited each training opportunity, he found himself completely idle.

It was then that he decided on a new plan, and the five years had moved as a blink to him, in an almost literal way. His Skills forced a certain amount of growth—actual growth, in one of the cases—but the enforced idleness had been on the verge of causing a mental collapse. Before he stooped to destroying plants, attacking boulders that were slightly too different in shade, or screaming at clouds, Andre the Druid had come up with a far more simple solution. Between his ventures into Murder World, Luke had a tendency to spend a few minutes in the Descender portal they had found upon their original entry to the desert.

A few minutes was all it took for weeks to pass in their world. He quickly adopted the habit of popping in for a few minutes, stepping out, and absorbing all of the changes that had been enacted by the Druid during their time apart. It was strange enough that he often wondered if he was somehow under an illusion effect created by Zed, having his perceptions subtly altered in order to keep him calm. It turned out that the reality was far stranger than any fever dreams that the Mindbender could place in his skull.

Andre had spent the entire time that they had been… exiled? Protected? Hidden? Imprisoned? No matter how Luke looked at it, it was simply more time away from the rest of humanity, let alone the accoutrements and benefits that he had earned. The Murderhobo shook his head and tried to remember what he had been thinking about… luckily, simply looking around allowed for an easy transition back into reminiscing. The Druid had spent the entirety of the last five years working. Planning, growing, crossbreeding and pollinating plants and animals; all for the express purpose of maximizing the benefits this land now provided.

Since the Ley Line and the Earthen Node had increased in potency, and the Druid had access to literal miles of ideal fertilizer, Andre had single-handedly generated explosive growth. Five years in, he had expanded the boundaries of his idealized paradise to hundreds of miles, with only a thin strip of desert still remaining between the Nature Preserve and the grasslands that surrounded it. His efforts had not gone unnoticed, and The Four had caught hundreds of spies and scouts searching their land. Still, without concerted effort, it was going to be impossible for an enemy—or even a presumptive ally—to locate them in the Druid's territory.

Andre was connected to the land and to every plant and animal within it. There was no way for anyone to sneak in without The Four having knowledge of the intruder’s presence prior to their arrival. If the Ascended exiles didn’t want to be seen, they’d never be found. That, more than anything, kept Luke from destroying the far-too-solicitous trees that were always offering him treats. “Abyssal strange is what that is. I wouldn't offer someone my arm, hoping they‘d take a bite out of it. These plants just aren't right.”

The Murderhobo had recently exited the Descender portal and was awaiting the delivery that Zed had promised him. Once upon a time, Luke had commissioned enchanted gear from the kingdom's best armor and weapon smiths with instructions to send it wherever he might be. In general, his orders had been fulfilled, and delivery had been attempted many times, yet he had only obtained a fraction of the items he had specifically requested. In all fairness, it wasn’t entirely the fault of the craftsmen he had paid in advance. No, it was the fact that every wagon shipment was laden with spies, magical orders, or some other contingent sent to remove or withhold autonomy from The Four.

It had become such a consistent occurrence that they had taken to sending a clone of Zed to approach the wagons, and if it detected even a hint of an ambush or Royal decree, the clone would self-destruct, fading away into oblivion before the orders could be magically passed along. The Bard had made many enemies this way, since he would typically laugh in the faces of whoever had arrived, be it mercenary or Inquisitor, before fading into nothingness. Of the very few wagons that did arrive without passengers, most of the vehicles contained Spells, tracking devices, or other methodologies designed to corral the bounty hunters that The Four had become.

Every last one was dismantled by the combined efforts of the Bard and the Druid. Vines couldn’t read royal decrees or writs, and Luke swore the coiling lengths rustled in satisfaction as they snaked out to pull the equipment into the underbrush. Tracking Spells or other various magical effects were dispelled by Taylor, and usually the enchantments imbued into the commissioned gear were hearty enough not to be impacted. Overall, it was a time-and-resource-intensive proposition to acquire those goods, and frankly… it most often wasn’t worth doing.

Luke looked at the results of their successful raids on wagon deliveries which had been meant for him in the first place, huffing out a deep, disgruntled sigh at the fact that this was the best that their highest-quality Enchanters could create. “Look at this. Fifteen spears, with only minor variations between them for each individual spell effect. All of them ‘on touch’; not a single one is able to cast magic at range. I didn’t pay a Tier-one Enchanter; I paid for the masters of the craft to be the ones working on this. If nothing else, these should be capable of ranged use and have multiple effects. Not this… inadequate garbage.”

“I think you might still be thinking too highly of the ‘Masters’ of the craft,” Zed informed him with a dramatic shake of his head. “You must remember that this is the Hollow Kingdom, not the Starfall Imperium nor the Dynasty of Dogs. Frankly, the fact that we even have Enchanters is already fairly shocking, if for no other factor than the sheer power required to be able to travel to those worlds. If I remember correctly, the Hollow Kingdom has one of the weakest connections to all of the various planes, making any interplanar connection difficult for a potential Ascender.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that physical location—where we are standing on this planet—impacts our ability to step into neighboring worlds?” Luke rolled his eyes at the absurdity. “Something tells me that it has more to do with mana density than with where we are standing at any given time.”

“Yeah, most likely.” Zed chortled darkly. “But when Andre finishes his little project here, something tells me that isn't going to be an issue anymore. I'm really looking forward to seeing what happens at that point. I will have new stories to tell people for decades.”

Taylor glided over as Luke lifted another spear with a small grunt of displeasure. She waited patiently, watching as his mana reached out from his body, engulfing the entire weapon, only to utterly obliterate it in the next moment. The Mage waited, and sure enough, a ghostly blue version of that exact weapon appeared in his hands. With a slightly manic grin, the Murderhobo tested out his ability to use it, causing the air to whine and snap as he thrust and slashed. “It's always interesting to watch you do that, since it isn't supposed to be possible. Forget about consuming a weapon and still being able to use it; destroying the enchantment pathways should make it so that even if you could replicate the weapon, it would be a simple, powerless, mundane tool.”

“Hello, Taylor!” Zed waved cheerfully at her. “Anything interesting to report today?”

“You’d be happy to know that I haven't looked at the ‘instruction manual’ they sent along with us since they reduced our capacity to visit our worlds,” Taylor reminded him dryly. “No point in giving up even more of our freedom, right?”

“I really like the new you. Have I said that? I feel like I say that a little too often these days. I hope you don't take offense to it.” Zed rambled, his hands beginning to subconsciously mimic the rapid tumble of thoughts spilling from his lips. “Kind of like if you had been in combat and had all of your hair burned off, and I explained to you each day how nice it looked that your hair had grown out a little bit. I think we should-”

“Zed,” Luke muttered with quiet annoyance, “you've already tested out all of your ability to earn Potentia from us. You should know that rambling to us all of the time isn't going to help you increase it. It’s only going to boost the odds of you accidentally getting stabbed by a spear and shoved into a tree trunk.”

“You know what? That might be better than just hanging around these trees all the time.” Zed shifted focus instantly. “Then I would actually have some purpose in this forest. Suck up some water, get some nutrients, stretch out in the sun… maybe I'll see if Andre is open to having a Bardic Dryad.”

“Not funny, Zed.” Taylor softly murmured as she shot him a warning glance. “You know how he feels about that, now that he’s had time to consider what he had to do to create them.”

“Yes, yes, we all know that he feels bad that he made trees that ate people and grew through their bodies. Even so, how many people have come into this paradise seeking eternal life as a tree? How many people have wanted that? He always tells them yes!” Zed’s complaints didn't have any heat to them, because frankly… the idea of becoming a tree and therefore being unable to leave and seek out new population centers went against everything he truly wanted in life. “Fine. Well, if Andre is going to be a giant spoilsport, what do you guys think of my idea of joining Luke the next time he is able to pop off to his world?”

“*Pop* is the right choice of words there, Zed,” Taylor reminded him firmly. “Even with our empowered Mana Channels, I still believe that none of us would be able to survive there for any length of time.”

“It's been half a decade! Let me try!” This time, Zed’s request was in earnest as he pleaded both with the Murderhobo and the Mage. “My body has been able to accept mana at a far higher volume; my cells are practically saturated with it! I think I could make it. Abyss, I can stand in the center of the outflow when he opens his portal and only feel refreshed and invigorated. I haven't spontaneously combusted even a single time!”

“Zed, you know that we’ll just die-” Taylor started to argue, only to have Luke cut her off.

“Fine.” The Murderhobo locked eyes with Zed. “You want to take the risk? At least you're doing something to grow. Even if it kills you—and it probably will. Almost certainly. I'm practically positive that you'll die in the first few minutes. But, like I was saying, if it does, I'll only have respect for you. I'll remember you fondly for being willing to suffer to get stronger. At least until I start thinking about something else.”

A long, tense silence stretched, broken by the Bard jumping in the air and whooping for joy. “You hear that? I’m going to Murder World!”