Chapter 692 (2/2)

His original little garden in the dungeon safe zone, the fields around Donnyton he had cultivated, the bloom of flowers by the shrine near Tatiana's base that he had playfully planted... all of it was beyond him now. He had gained much, his mental voice assured himself. But it did little to alleviate the deep sense of loss that he felt in his heart.

His grand image was the tree of life. And now for power, it was burning everything that grew around it to ash. The sheer violence of the Ashen Image left a bad taste in Randidly’s mouth.

Reminding himself that it was not his choice that had led to here also didn't do much to stop the frustration and anger. It was true that the Patron of Ash had forced his overwhelming Ashen image onto Randidly, forcing Randidly to open himself to the desolate and lonely image. But Randidly knew what sort of world the Patron of Ash had inhabited. It was pretty reasonable to expect that as one proceeds down the path of a Patron, their relations to that image would grow.

Despite that, Randidly had never thought what becoming more tightly bound to the Patron would mean. He only followed that Path for the power that he was sure waited at the end. This was a decision that he had come to on his own, and now he was dealing with the consequences.

Randidly raised his hand and conjured an Incinerating Bolt. It hung, hot and smoking, above his hand. Slowly, his Mana drained as the thing remained in his grasp without being loosed. Drops of molten metal fell to hit the ground, sizzling softly against the wooden boards. With a crunch, Randidly closed his hand.

The first Skill he had gained was root based. Well, perhaps that was not true. Randidly frowned as he tried to remember the exact series of events years ago in that dungeon. But the first choice between Skills that Randidly had, he had chosen Grasping Roots. That ability to control had blossomed into something so much greater.

His Soulskills up until this point had been based partially on growth, even if it was a rotting growth. Now, with all of the induced growth he caused resulting in fire and ash, that long-standing leg of Randidly’s had been cut.

As if on cue, there was a throbbing in his chest. With a slow hand, Randidly reached up and placed it under his heart. His frown deepened. Over the past few weeks, he had noticed this pain intermittently. When had it started? Although he couldn’t pin down the date, it did seem that it had begun when he had gained the Ashen Image. Perhaps the loss of one of the focus points of his images was having a deeper effect than he realized.

Perhaps, like when the Cycle of Rot and Ash grew too quickly, he was suffering from growing pains. Randidly closed his eyes. Within the next coming days, perhaps it would be best to spend some time in the Hall of Stances proper. Although it was not an option Randidly liked, stealing another’s image to balance out his Soul would be important.

Growth… growth was why Randidly had strived so hard for strength. He had wanted to find the power to let humanity flourish. To lose that now...

Even further back in the past, Randidly recalled being a child and helping his mother and Kulwort garden. A simple, wholesome activity. Those memories were some of Randidly's favorites of his mother.

So much had changed, in so many ways. But that didn't mean he missed it any less.

Randidly closed his eyes, and as he did so a salty tear ran down his cheek.

Some mechanical part of Randidly that wondered if using that tear in a potion would make it extremely effective. Experimenting with the tear would undoubtedly result in great effects. But Randidly simply wiped it away. For this small moment at least, Randidly was unwilling to force himself to always aim constantly to be working for the future. This had hit him harder than expected, and it was time to feel that grief.

Although he needed to find balance in himself, there were also so many other things grabbing at his attention. It was exhausting. His was now a dread Crown of Cataclysm and Gloom. At the moment, it felt like the change in the name was an ominous sign.

For another fifteen minutes, Randidly laid on the bed, listening to the soft noises in the building. The tread of feet upon wooden boards. The bubble of boiling water. The tired breath of an old man removing his outer garments in preparation for bed. A young boy singing to an even younger girl. Wind, tracing its fingers along the roof. Even as Randidly was seized by grief, everyone else continued to move forward. That was life.

Then the moment passed, and Randidly stood with a firm expression on his face. It might not be now, but he would remain on the lookout for a way to find his balance. ”Alright, it's time to get to work.”