ELDRITCH NIGHT (Rough Draft)

Chapter 45: Growth

Small tendrils of energy stabbed into my new arm. They anchored it to me, creating a whole from the sum of its parts. As the capillaries of energy grew and wormed their way into the arm they began to feed.

Since regaining access to the system, I had found it impossible to add to the small amount of eldritch energy I had gathered. The system would greedily consume every speck of the energy as soon as it touched me. The small amount I had been able to hold onto seemed immune to this absorption, as if by claiming it I had somehow made it impervious to the system's hunger.

Now, however, the thin channels of dark energy swelled and fattened. They lengthened and multiplied at an exponential rate. It was too fast for me to process or control, and I could feel the arm beginning to weaken. The threads of energy seemed to have a will of their own as they slowly drained the energy in my new arm with insatiable abandon. Soon they grew too numerous for me to envision as a latticework of thin wires. Instead, I watched as the energy became a chain of spheres that surrounded and linked each cell in my body.

I was unsure how much of it I was guiding, and how much I was the spectator. Some force seemed to be controlling the transformation, and yet I was aware of each change even before it happened. I easily understood and anticipated each step. It was as if I had witnessed this play out once before.

I was still unsure of the benefits this transformation would give me, but I immediately gained a much greater awareness and control of my own body. If I concentrated I could isolate and view individual cells. Injuries and flaws became obvious, as if surrounded by beaming lights.

Other than the injuries to my chest and arm, I also had tears in almost every major muscle, and the ligaments in my right knee and ankle were nearly severed. The shin bone was barely holding together and seemed as if it could disintegrate into bone fragments at the lightest touch. It was riddled with fractures that branched and spiraled throughout the bone.

As the energy infused each cell these injuries were not healed, mine was not a power of regeneration. The connections between cells became stronger, however, and a new force pulled bone and muscle back together. They were not healed, but they would function until they could heal naturally. It was like a glue holding me together, adding both strength and flexibility.

From here on I would be much more durable, but I would still have to experience the pain of each injury as it happened. I could hold together broken bone, at least to a point, but not prevent the injury or heal the damage. It was a ruthless ability, but powerful.

Rather than slow the transformation, I let it continue. I was not worried about the arm being weakened too much- I knew the Fisher had ways of replenishing its energy. Besides, I had a faint understanding that the process would end once an equilibrium was established.

I called to the Fisher, but it didn't answer. Perhaps the process had suppressed it, or my Companion was involved in the transformation at a deeper level than I had believed.

The benefits of the system seemed an afterthought, but I still had that source of power as well. Several warnings and messages had appeared after my battle with the King Behemoth, but I had ignored them until now.

Rather than try to dig through each message, I dismissed them and looked at my stats and skills directly.

The most obvious change was that I had leveled three times. Just how powerful had that behemoth been? I had expected to level, but not multiple times. Perhaps I had also gained experience from Telvy mopping up the rest of the herd. I assume she did, anyhow. Everything after the headless corpse of the King collapsing on me was a blur.

I had no idea how to feel about the archmage. She had promised to protect Tiller and had pulled me out from under the crushing embrace of the behemoth. She had also left me to fend for myself behind enemy lines with grievous injuries. I just couldn't find the energy to become angry at her. Instead my rage was focused elsewhere.