[Omen of the Witchblade] Chapter 106 - Ungovernable

“Komachi is [Ungovernable]!” a familiar voice screamed in the hall.

Sae’mir and the doctors stepped to the side as a brown blur streaked down the hall, trailing several doctors in the same robes that had treated Gwen.

“Somebody catch her!” a doctor shouted.

Another doctor dove, his arms encircling the squirming otter-like pobul with especially wooly fur, until she used [Ungovernable] and shot out of his grasp. “I can’t! She keeps using that aspect skill!”

Sylvie ran past, paused, then peeked into the open doorway. For a moment, all Mel saw was her poofy brown curls and the dusting of freckles across her nose. “Gwen, you’re okay! And Mel! You’re not dead? We should catch up soon, but I gotta go. Byeeee!”

Mel looked to Gwen, who was no less surprised to see the only other Magi that was Mel’s size already up and around. The roughly five-foot height on Sylvie always managed to make her look like a perpetual teenager. Somehow, despite being a few inches taller than Mel, Sylvie was the one perpetually mistaken for a young girl.

Probably all my anger, Mel thought. At least, that’s what Deklin would have told her. He’d have phrased it like a badge of honor, though.

Mel opened her mouth to speak to Gwen, but Komachi streaked by the door again just as a doctor dove and tackled her to the white-tiled floor.

Komachi wriggled. “You can’t catch me! It’s illegal!”

Familiar Skill: [Ungovernable]

Like a greased-up coconut, Komachi flew off into the hall, chased again by her doctors.

Sylvie appeared a few moments later, panting and wheezing. She put her palms to her thighs and doubled over. “Oh, I’m gonna barf.” She looked up into the room. “Oh. This place is a circle. I can work with that.”

She waited and caught her breath until Komachi’s cries could be heard again. As she streaked by, Sylvie dove like an Olympic goalie to catch Komachi.

For a moment the pobul struggled against her, then calmed when she realized who was holding her.

Komachi looked up adoringly at Sylvie as if she was the sun itself. “Legal,” she said softly.

“Some things never change,” Mel said.

“This has been weird,” Gwen said hoarsely. “Not the Komachi thing. I mean winding up at a place like this.” She cleared her throat and sat up easily as if she hadn’t just been on [Death’s Door]. There were some bottled refreshments set on the side table that Gwen drank without hesitation.

Mel looked down at the crystal from Sae’mir, turning it over in her hand. It was pale as snow and exuded a faint glow. She could feel the mana within it and could guess well enough that it was some sort of calling card.

If she threaded a pulse of mana into it, Sae’mir would be alerted that she wanted to talk.

Connections, indeed.

“I think we’re somewhere called the Seabrim Crater,” Mel said absently. She was thirsty as hell, but she wasn’t about to drink anything in here.

It was one thing to let them heal her and quite another to trust them not to put something in the water.

Paranoid much?

Gwen studied the far outer wall that had a slight curvature to it. And notably, no windows. “Not seeing much of a sea. Don’t even smell it.”

“We’re in a medical tower for winners. Probably kept clean to prevent infection or something.” Mel looked down at her hospital gown with a slight amount of disdain.

It was disturbingly like the burial dress she previously woke up in, except thicker and far more comfortable. Sylvie and Gwen both wore one as well.

Thankfully, the gown was closed in the back. They were like proper robes, though they only hung down to the knee.

Mel slipped off her slab of a bed and tucked her feet into the waiting pair of matching gray slippers.

Gwen got out of bed, then dangerously swayed on her feet. The tall Berserker braced herself against the bed, shutting her eyes against the uncomfortable sensations passing through her body.

“You good?” Mel asked, watching her carefully. “Might want to take it easy. You were in rough shape. They healed us both.” She motioned toward the wall. “Thomas seems to be getting some anti-corruption treatments and Heath is probably healed up by now.”

Gwen’s eyes shot open. “Anti-corruption?” she asked worriedly, chewing her lip. She began to take anything useful not bolted down that she could find room for. “I’ll be fine. Ish. Eventually. I’m more concerned that all our things are taken and…well, Thomas is laid out somewhere else.”

“Knock-knock,” said a gentle voice as a man with kind eyes peeked into the room. “Good morning, ladies.”

Gwen looked up, in the middle of upending a bed, ransacking it for hidden loot that probably wasn’t there.

Mel glanced over at the man. He wore an electric blue suit stitched with gold-and-silver runes, but everything about him screamed clerk.

Wait, don’t I have that title?

[Eye for Talent]

(Title, Legendary)

Earned by slaying Warren Stolst, once a small-time enforcer in an organized crime family based on Earth. From a young age, Warren always had a skill for marking out people who would be more successful than he was. He used this to successfully navigate numerous blood feuds, always coming out on the winning side. Once he reached the Convocation, Warren was able to tell classes apart instantly, allowing him to pick priority targets. When recruiting, it allowed Warren to discover valuable members who would otherwise have passed themselves off as something else in order to avoid being taken against their will.

Whenever you examine a person, you can tell their exact class, even if it is normally hidden.

As a Legendary title, it is eligible for additional growth should you satisfy specific requirements. Additionally, should you be slain, this title will be transferred to the victor.

Focusing, Mel fought through the beginnings of a migraine as a golden name materialized over the man’s head in Shardscript.

[Elian (Mid Bronze Rank–High Clerk)]

Huh, guess I was right!

“My name is–” he began.

“Elian,” Mel finished for him, feeling a tad smug about it.

He glanced at Mel with a fraction of surprise around his eyes. “Like all Champions, you have your tricks, I see.”

“I dabble,” Mel said with a grin.

“Well, as the Champion has so clearly put it, my name is Elian and I am here to introduce your party to our humble Shardrune. Before you ask, I have no direct affiliations with the Grand Orders. I am a High Clerk for the Office of Administration here at the Seabrim Crater.” Elian smiled rather charmingly at them. “You could say we’re the Ellis Island of the multiverse.”

Mel and Gwen both stared. The Berserker even paused in ransacking another cabinet.

“Oh, was that the wrong comparison?” Elian asked, the confident mask slipping. “Bother. I was to understand that you were both from this New York City.”

“We are,” Mel said. “Ellis Island hasn’t been a thing like you’re referencing for…a while. Most people from our generation are taught to fear–y’know, never mind. As a friend, just skip the reference for now.”

Elian’s brown eyes fluttered wide. “Well! Thank you for that tip, Mel! What I meant is that we’re sort of the hub for new transplants here. Billions of people stop by our humble Ring every day, but the Seabrim Crater is one of the most exclusive realms within the First Ring, so congrats on that!”

“Are the other people from our Convocation trial somewhere else?” Mel asked. “The people who didn’t place in the top whatever.”

Elian shook his head. “We call them a ‘cohort’ and, no. Your cohort is here, along with several others.”

Mel didn’t know how she felt about that. Seeing people who had tried to kill her would be more than a little awkward. Especially since more than a few of them knew somebody she successfully killed.

At least she wouldn’t have any awkwardness about failing to kill somebody. That would be embarrassing.

Least I won’t have to deal with any kill squads here. Probably.

Gwen stepped towards the man urgently. “Could you tell us where some of our friends are? Such as if Logan Hart, Shrubley, and Solomon are here?”

He looked at her with a welcoming smile. “Your Magi friends? Of course. Mister Hart, after placing an admirable twenty-fifth, is now resting up at the Gone Goose Inn. There are several establishments that are waiving lodging fees for the top contenders. Of course, there are more exclusive establishments catering to Champions such as yourselves.”

“Twenty-fifth? That’s damn good for solo,” Gwen said in surprise.

“Indeed,” Elian agreed. “Shrubley, along with his party, is currently undergoing an introduction with my counterpart. The same goes for all top three Champion parties. I could gather them into one location if you would prefer? Of course, I will require their consent first.”

Gwen looked curiously at Mel, as if it were up to her to decide.

“Your…counterpart?” Mel asked. “What’s their name?”

“Elian.”

“Oh…” Gwen whispered. “Oh no.” She turned away after finding a hairbrush. That small thing didn’t look up to the task of handling Gwen’s mane of red hair.

“A twin?” Mel asked.

“No, Miss,” Elian said with a smile. “As a High Clerk I am able to split myself into multiple avatars to better assist the people of the Seabrim Crater!”

“Do you share–?” Mel started to ask.

“Consciousness? Heavens, no. We can communicate, however. But anything you say to me is completely private and vice versa.”

“Think she was going to say sensations,” Gwen pointed out uncomfortably.

Mel looked at Gwen darkly. “I think you’ve got me confused with Sylvie.” She turned back to Elian. “All right, so first thing first, where is our stuff?”

“I have taken the liberty of bringing it up to you,” Elian said, taking out two diamond-shaped crystals the size of ping-pong balls. “There you are. Just tap those and you’ll reacquire all material possessions you had on you at the time of transfer. If you like–oh! Oh my. You’re already changing, I’ll just…ahem.”

Elian spun around as Mel gleefully changed out of her hospital robe and back into her combat gear. Slipping on her [Exile Storage Ring] she was pleased to find that nothing in her inventory was altered. It was just as chaotically messy as always.

Just how Mama likes it.

Once everything seemed back in its proper place, she cleared her throat. “All good now, Mister Man.”

She glanced at Gwen, who was almost through the process of gearing up. Meh, she’s mostly done. So long as he’s not into feet, we’re good.

“Very good,” Elian said as he turned around. “Is everything to your liking?”

Mel shook her head. “Hardly. I don’t see any treasure chests.” She adjusted the brim of her witch hat a few times to get it just right.

“Ah, yes, about that–”

“You better start talking real fast,” Mel warned. Gwen backed up Mel’s statement by looming over the clerk.

Elian raised his hands in surrender. “When a party is split up for any reason, the Convocation briefly places their winnings on hold until the party reunites. This is done, I assure you, to prevent theft and fraud. If you were laid up in a healing ward for weeks on end, you would not want your party members to take all the spoils would you?”

As much as she disliked it, Mel admitted it made some sense. “Fine, so we won’t get our treasure until we’re all in one place.” She turned to Gwen. “Let’s go get the band back together.”

“I am sorry to say that Thomas Restal is not currently able to have visitors at the moment,” Elian said calmly. “You can view him if you wish, but entry into Ward C is tightly controlled.”

“Is that right?” Gwen asked, menacing and quiet. “No matter what?”

“I am sorry,” Elian said. “You can try to overpower the protectors there, but I assure you that it will be a fruitless effort. This is for everybody’s wellbeing. I am told that he will be free to leave after the mandatory forty-eight-hour hold.” Elian pulled the cuff of his sleeve back to glance at a watch. “Which should be at roughly dinnertime tonight around six o’clock.”

“And the time now?” Mel asked. That means we’ve been unconscious for more than a day.

“A little after eight in the morning.”

“And Heath?”

“I believe he is waiting on the ground floor as we speak.”

Mel looked at Gwen. “Done being a klepto, or do you need a minute to try to stuff the bed into your inventory, too?”

Gwen eyed the bed as if considering it. “...Nah,” she said reluctantly, “I’m good.”

“Splendid, right this way then!” Elian turned about face and marched into the hallway.