The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Chapter 1869

Chapter 1869

Claudette’s chest was heaving when she arrived at the base of the lighthouse. Honestly, referring to it as a lighthouse was a disservice to those functional buildings she had seen in other locations; this was a spiraling staircase around a central pillar with some sort of treasure-based light source at the top. Her eyes traced the structure. There were several platforms of woven energy at various elevations, seeming to require different capabilities in order to pass through and ascend.

But what made her heart grow cold was the figure that was currently halfway up the staircase. And ascending every second.

Kyl MacDuul, squat and froglike, turned and gave her a brief glance. The corners of his mouth tilted up into a smirk as he reached one of the barriers. “It’s just business, girl. This is what was always meant to happen.”

Then he turned forward and said aloud to the gleaming barrier. “Her favorite color is Sapphire.”

The barrier flickered, almost aggressively. Kyl scowled and muttered several curses to himself. His jowls shook. Meanwhile, the wave of adrenaline finally reached her nerves. Claudette launched herself forward at the staircase herself, forgetting briefly that she utilized Randidly’s body and almost crashing into the base of the structure.

She regained her balance, glanced worryingly at the places where the rising tide of black flames had eaten away at the foundation of the ‘lighthouse’, then looked at the small sign right in front of the entrance. It had been penned by her father by hand.

Congratulations, worthy challenger; your dedication to an alliance between my family and yours warms my heart. But we cannot forget the true soul of this potential deal: Claudette, my lovely daughter. If you are not taking her feelings into account, I cannot in good conscience entrust her fate to you. So this final test challenges your knowledge of her history and her tastes. There are no punishments for incorrect answers, but only by truly understanding her will you be able to reach the top…

You…. For some reason, this particular brand of faux-concern was beginning to wear very thin on Claudette. She clenched her fists, a horrible frost skittering across her knuckles and up her arms. How dare you consider me yours to surrender to anyone, no matter what they know about me.

I am not an object.

Still, at the very least, Claudette was confident that she could quickly catch up considering the type of impediments. She stepped onto the base platform and faced the first barrier. A question floated in the energy barrier: How old is Claudette?

Seriously? Despite the seriousness of the situation, she couldn’t help but be floored by the inane question. She gritted her teeth and experimentally answered with just her thoughts. I’m 31.

The barrier flickered and dispersed. Claudette ascended quickly around the staircase, even as she heard MacDuul speaking above. “If not sapphire… perhaps indigo? Ah, excellent.”

The questions arrived in a condescending rain. What was Claudette’s favorite toy as a child? What was the first thing that young Claudette gave Don Beigon as a gift? Who was the person that Claudette looked up to most of all? What was Claudette’s worst fear?

Trying not to dwell on the horrible farce of a test, Claudette accelerated up the stairs. Answers flowed quickly to the forefront of her mind. Her tiny stuffed polar bear with the bells around its neck. A paper flower. Her mother. Dying the same way that her mother had died.

Dimly, Claudette was aware of movement out on the path that led to the lighthouse. She glanced out, again noticing the worrisome creep of black flames across the path and toward the lighthouse. But what sent pricklings of fear through her was that well ahead of a Randidly that was likely Neshamah, two familiar figures were racing toward the lighthouse: Tyune and Moonlight Blade. It seemed both had survived their encounters with Devick and now were in the hunt for her.

Or perhaps only a sprint to beat each other to the punch.

Anger flared in her chest. Randidly, you better get here fucking fast. I can’t-

But immediately, she stopped herself from completing that thought. She planted her bare feet on the cool marble floor and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, the color began to change, brightening from emerald to seafoam green. No, I can. Your help is appreciated, but I don’t need it. No matter what, I will win.

I WILL win.

The next few questions passed in a blur. Claudette didn’t slow down at all. They were simple, surface-level things. It irked her to think that these were supposed to be the questions that would determine her future. Her opinion of her father continued to sink lower in her chest.

Above her, she heard MacDuul release a booming laugh. “Hahaha! Don, you certainly have quite the sense of humor. What is Claudette’s most dearly held wish? Ha! Obviously, it is to become a blushing bride to myself. Perhaps even the birthing of a few offspring.”

The chill in Claudette’s heart was becoming worse. Frost condensed and crackled along her arms, legs, and joints. Movements sent swirling gusts of snowflakes out from her body. Her breath was a blast of mist. The acceptance she felt from the energy of the lighthouse plunged her back into that suffocating liquid in which she had spent most of her life. She was there, looking out through the echoing silence and feeling so separate from what was around her.

But this time, something curled and twisted. She stretched out her hand and touched the isolating medium and it began to freeze.

“How delightful! Someone has made it to the top of the final test!” A recording of Don Beigon’s voice echoed out across the area. “The final treasure is right before you! Seize it.”

There was a long pause in which Kyl MacDuul released several expletives.

Her father countered with a premeditated chuckle. His voice was theatrical and hateful. “Of course, this game was always slightly stacked in the favor of certain individuals and I hardly think that’s fair to the other players. To make the playing field slightly more even, there is a cooling-off period for any who reaches the top of the lighthouse; put very simply, you cannot ascend from the dueling platform to the resting place of the treasure for five minutes! So followers, catch up quickly and drag down your competition!”

Claudette rounded the corner and faced the question of what her favorite food was. She tore forward now, feeling like she was gliding along the numbness that had settled in her body. Higher and higher she rose, using only ten seconds since MacDuul’s success to reach the final barrier of light. The words rose before her, cruel and mocking.

What is Claudette’s most dearly held wish?

Claudette’s mind was a whirling storm of snow and frost. Her hands rose and suddenly the keening blade Clarent was with her hands, craving violence. The color of her eyes continued to blue and darken, until it looked like she housed the implacable arctic sea in her irises. She raised Clarent and gripped the hilt until her knuckles were just as white as the ice covering her limbs, not even caring about the consequences.

The last few steps released small novas of frost where her feet pressed against the stairs. Swinging her blade, she poured every ounce of frustration and bottled-up emotion she had gathered over the thirty-one years of her life. All the dripping hatred and curdling resentment she felt toward her father exploded out through the weapon. It cut into the barrier-

“You have always made me so proud to be your father,” A voice was suddenly whispering in Claudette’s ear as she lurched forward, expecting resistance and not encountering any. “Go on, honey. Seize your destiny. Daddy’s watching.”

Claudette stumbled forward off the staircase and onto a wide platform. Kyl MacDuul, who had been skulking back and forth before a wide obsidian platform, now turned to face her. He rotated in a lumbering ungainly way that worsened her disgust. His thick eyebrows shot up as he looked at her. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect that you would be the first to catch me. Interesting. But… with that image, do you really think you can hold your own against me?

“Considering our future union, I will be gentle in this first reprimand.” Kyl MacDuul continued. He stepped toward her with his hands folded behind his back, causing his belly to bulge forward. A warm rolling prairie manifested in front of him. The solid smell of sun-warmed dirt rose and filled the platform. “I will even allow you the first strike.”

The words Claudette heard only distantly. Her eyes were fixated on the ‘treasure’ that would determine her fate. Her gaze went unfocused as a slew of memories rushed to the surface of her mind. Of all things… why would you use the token of that creature…?

Sitting at the top of the obsidian alter was a common copper coin, stamped with the likeness of a certain being. On that being’s homeworld it was the currency and that being, a creature that had now risen to become one of the most powerful monsters that lurked in the Tier III of the Nexus, had a soft spot in its heart for its home. So it had given out the coins bearing its face in order to show when favors were lent or owed.

It had been that being, calling in an old favor that even Don Beigon hadn’t been able to avoid, that had taken Claudette’s mother and transformed her into a puppet. To this day, that empty husk served the being.

The seeping numbness in Claudette’s body went deeper. She felt immense. That isolating liquid medium she had felt trapped by for so long now became a howling heart of frigid air that existed within every gesture. When she moved that power, the world would tremble and storms would be born.

Kyl MacDuul raised a hand and beckoned her to approach. Confidence made his image warm and ineffective against her. Slowly, Claudette shifted her grip on Clarent and raised it over her head. But at the same time, an even more profound shift was happening within Claudette.

The blade Clarent had been created by her father in Claudette’s image. Her father had once been one of four Lightbringers, but in his greed, he wanted to be the brightest and most brilliant of all. So he created Clarent to consume and seal away the other Lightbringers. At the end of Clarent’s journey, the blade had fled and doomed the Lizakh people with its calamitous presence.

And then…

And then the blade realized that the only solution was to kill her father. Claudette released a gushing breath of chilling air. For although she was the blade of destruction and doom, his was the twisted heart that had wrought all of this. In order to ensure that the universe would no longer suffer beneath his selfish whims… he must die.

Her emotions rose and resonated with Clarent. Some last hidden barrier had existed between Claudette and Clarent but that, paradoxically, began to melt before this unified purpose. The song of the blade of desolation became audible for all to hear, rising in a mournful march. Winds blasted out from Claudette’s body, painting the platform with thick crusts of snow and frost. A small frown formed on MacDuul’s face.

Then she stepped forward, her eyes black and empty, all pupil and refusal to remain under Don Beigon’s thumb any longer.