Untamed Spirit, page 1
THE WHISPERING CRYSTALS
Book Five: Untamed Spirit
H.C. Mills
THE WHISPERING CRYSTALS BOOK FIVE: UNTAMED SPIRIT
First edition, March 2, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 H.C. Mills.
All Rights Reserved.
Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.
Front cover by Proi.
Table styles and Status Bar art by Marleen van der Fluit @fluffycthulhu.
www.hcmillsofficial.com
To my elder sister, who raised the bar to dizzying heights by graduating cum laude from everything but driver’s ed.
You are phenomenal. Never change.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1: I’m on a boat
Chapter 2: Glorious food
Chapter 3: I believe
Chapter 4: Up
Chapter 5: Incubation time
Chapter 6: Jeremy Bearimy
Chapter 7: Chains on me
Chapter 8: Apex predator
Chapter 9: Broken wings
Chapter 10: Boats and birds
Chapter 11: Here I am
Chapter 12: They call him Dovakir... Krakenborn!
Chapter 13: Free fallin’
Chapter 14: Seafood
Chapter 15: Welcome to Gainsville
Chapter 16: Bigger fish
Chapter 17: Soon may the Wellerman come
Chapter 18: Thar he sucks!
Chapter 19: One branch, then to another
Chapter 20: Instinct
Chapter 21: Healing the world with comedy
Chapter 22: Riders on the storm
Chapter 23: The dark I know well
Chapter 24: But he was still hungry
Chapter 25: The interwebs
Chapter 26: Gatekeepers
Chapter 27: Into the batcave
Chapter 28: Anybody have a map?
Chapter 29: War never changes
Chapter 30: Story time
Chapter 31: Turn your face away from the garish light of day
Chapter 32: All we hear is...
Chapter 33: I count the cobwebs in the hall
Chapter 34: ’Tis the season
Chapter 35: With something like that, I would have white wine
Chapter 36: Shoop da whoop
Chapter 37: Flight of the Valkyries
Chapter 38: Getting batty with the bats
Chapter 39: Think of me
Chapter 40: Like an underwater unicorn
Chapter 41: Breadcrumbs
Chapter 42: Growing pains
Chapter 43: Blue
Chapter 44: The eye of the storm
Chapter 45: Velocicaptors
Chapter 46: Bless the broken road
Chapter 47: Rapotism
Chapter 48: Starting with the woman in the mirror
Chapter 49: Compulsion Obsession Disorder
Chapter 50: A rose by any other name...
Chapter 51: Command and conquer
Chapter 52: Honesty is such a lonely word
Chapter 53: All you can eat
Chapter 54: Prime television
Chapter 55: Halftime snacks
Chapter 56: All eyes on me
Chapter 57: To the victors go the spoils
Chapter 58: The talk
Chapter 59: A swinging joint
Chapter 60: A royal ass-whooping
Chapter 61: Untamed fury
Chapter 62: Just breathe, Emma
Chapter 63: Quick sand
Chapter 64: They said help is on the way
Chapter 65: A rap Bhattle
Chapter 66: Hasta la vista, baby
Chapter 67: Hitting yourself
Chapter 68: Let it out
Chapter 69: The F word
Chapter 70: Strategically worded honesty
Chapter 71: Hello from the other side
Chapter 72: If you know what I mean
Chapter 73: Homecoming
Dear Reader
Emma’s Notes
Acknowledgements
About the Author
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CHAPTER 1
I’m on a boat
The last thing I see before I successfully pull myself out of the Realm of Crystals is my own body—piloted by Suri—reaching out for me with a blank face, and grasping nothing but thin Aether.
The transition is not as smooth as usual. Instead of nigh-instantly appearing in the Realm of Imagination, I find myself flying through the chaotic void between realms I’ve only visited once before, when Goddess threw me out for my crime of accidentally causing the death of a bird in her Realm.
Once again, I am bombarded with flashes of blinding light, knives of cold, and a kind of white noise that threatens to drown out my thoughts. However, this time, instead of spinning around helplessly, I’m flying towards a ball of light in the distance, guided by the thin red thread that symbolises my connection to the little toy boat I once left behind during a Skilldream.
Well, I say flying, but it feels more like I’m pulling myself through molasses, like some kind of resistance is trying to prevent me from moving in the direction I’m going.
I’m still moving forward, however, and since I’m thoroughly out of back-up plans, I have no choice but to squeeze shut my Imaginary eyes, cover my Imaginary ears, and keep pulling as I stew in my anger.
All this time, Suri pretended to be helping me, guiding me. She even had the gall to act concerned for my life when I put myself in danger—well, I suppose the concern might’ve been real, except it wasn’t concern for a charge, a protégé, no, it was concern for herself, for her spot in the competition.
I mean, I actually won the whole thing, final tournament and all, and I still was to be nothing more than a slave. All that effort I put into training, fighting, all it amounted to was helping Suri climb the social ranks of her messed-up society.
A prize friggin’ poodle, that’s all I am—or was, I suppose. I’m not quite sure what I am right now, really. A ghost? An untethered spirit?
Did I just... kill myself? It’s a sobering thought, one probably few people have ever gotten to think. Well, assuming there’s no afterlife in the Entropic Realm, like I suspect. Who knows at this point?
Those Peilor bastards... treating us like—like cattle. No, you know what? I’ve just decided.
I’m not dead. I’m just taking a sabbatical from living.
Of course, there are some steps to be made and some questions to be answered before I start planning my second coming. Like if the connection to my body I just severed can even be restored, and if so, how I’m supposed to take my body back from Suri.
If I can even find my way back to the Realm of Crystals at all...
No, I have to find a way back, dead or alive. Dave, Jacob, Alec, Kaitlynn... they must’ve all been brainwashed by now, turned into ‘content’ little hosts. But I’m positive that conditioning can be broken. It all comes down to mental stats, and Espir. If I could just—
Suddenly, the pressure pushing back against me mounts. My eyes snap open, and I find myself in front of a translucent membrane of shimmering light. Through it, I see familiar, shifting vistas.
The Realm of Imagination, I made it!
The thin red thread I’m following passes through the membrane in front of me, and as I push against it, the shimmering light starts to slowly engulf me.
However, it’s going too slowly. The incessant hum reverberating through my mind is turning my thoughts sluggish and I can feel my Imaginary eyes start to droop.
The pressure I’m exerting on the membrane weakens, and the shimmering light engulfing my arms slows to a crawl.
No... No! It can’t end like this; I won’t let it!
Pouring Espir into the corner of my mind that feels like it’s made of molten steel—my Willpower—and screaming a soundless scream into the void, I push myself into the wall barring my entry with every ounce of force I can muster.
In response, the previously sluggish light surges forth, gaining inch after inch, until finally, I’m covered from head to toe.
And then, the world around me goes white.
When I open my eyes, I find myself standing at the wheel of a huge three-master, its wood creaking as it crests a mighty wave, and begins to plummet down on the other side.
I stumble and grip the steering wheel to maintain my footing, only to find that it’s stuck and doesn’t turn.
Glancing around for a familiar landmark, I find my vision is strangely distorted, yet there’s one thing that’s hard to miss.
I have only one word for the enormous creature staring down at me. Kraken.
A massive tentacle stretches out towards my vessel, and I cringe. However, its limb doesn’t quite reach the suddenly fragile-looking wood. Instead, it curls around what looks like a giant tube of some kind of transparent...
Hold on, what’s that brown thing up ahead?
The purple kraken pulls the cork out of the bottle with a deafening pop, and a rush of air sucks me out.
Tumbling through the air, I suddenly recognise the scenery around me, and my mind automatically seeks to adjust my size. Growing rapidly to match the interior of the Timid Trident, I find myself with no time to regain my balance, and gracelessly faceplant on the wooden floor.
“Well, it was about time,” Akir grumbles as he returns the cork, and gently puts the ship-in-a-bottle back down. “You haven’t Visited in ages. If it wasn’t for this thing, I’d have thought you were dead.”
Actually, I recognise that ship... “You’re the one who found my toy boat!” I exclaim, staring up at Akir from the floor in gratitude.
“A patron did, actually. Said they recognised your Espir,” he grunts. “I guess I’d been asking around for you, though...”
I dizzily try to get up. “Well, you’re a real lifesaver, I... Woah.”
Akir steadies me with a frown as I grow lightheaded and stumble. “Hold on, why are you Visiting when you’ve barely got Espir?”
I open my mouth to answer, when the light coming from outside starts to dim.
Next, the glasses begin to rattle on the shelf. Akir doesn’t pay it any heed, however, even when some of them start to drop and shatter. Instead, he turns to the front door, looking alarmed.
And suddenly, with a clap like thunder, Goddess hangs in the centre of the room, her dark wings spread out and seeming to somehow cover the entirety of the back wall and ceiling, like I couldn’t possibly look past her.
The suddenness with which she appears almost makes it seem like she was there all along, as if the floors and walls and doors are meaningless to her. They probably are.
Akir immediately bows, appearing a little shaken, but Goddess ignores him, the cold dark eyes from her owlish visage trained on me, her feathery white brows furrowed.
I try to follow Akir’s example, but find myself unable to move under her heavy gaze, like a small rodent in front of a predator.
“Emma,” Goddess intones distastefully, her voice like a foreboding hymn played on a church organ. “We somehow meet again. I would find your obstinate desire to Visit my Realm flattering if your presence weren’t so unwelcome. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just...” Goddess trails off, her eyes fixed on the jagged remainder of my chain.
Akir follows her gaze and lets out a soft gasp.
Goddess glances at him. “Ah... little Akir. You’re still around, then,” she says, her voice turning melancholy, the intensity lowering from a church organ to a choir, but still maintaining a dark tone.
Akir straightens up a little. “I am, Your Highness. If I may—”
“Good,” Goddess says, cutting him off with a sigh, before she turns back and floats closer to me, her eyes falling on my chain with a glint that wasn’t there before. “Interesting,” she murmurs, her voice lowering further in intensity to become akin to a cacophony of ominous whispers. “You cut it yourself, didn’t you? Tell me: why would you do such a thing?”
There is genuine curiosity in her voice, and I clamp onto it like a lifeline. “To be free,” I quickly blurt out as the pressure weighing down on me abates a little, as if to allow me to speak. “Suri—the Peilor who was using me as a host—was about to start restructuring my mind, and I chose freedom over slavery... anyway I could get it.”
Goddess reaches out, ever so gently, and grasps my chain. An echo of the white-hot pain I experienced when I severed it earlier sears through me.
I let out a hiss, but can’t move away as the pressure holding me down is back, and Goddess doesn’t let go. Thankfully, the pain lessens to a throbbing when she holds it still to inspect it.
“Truly interesting,” Goddess murmurs. “It’s been a long time since anything’s managed to surprise me.” Her owlish gaze flicks up to appraise me, unblinking.
Akir clears his throat. “Your Highness,” he tries again. “Might I inquire what Emma has done to earn your ire?”
Goddess disconcertingly turns her head more than ninety degrees to look at him. “She Erased a sentient being,” she intones, her voice turning grand and terrible once more.
The word Erased in particular feels like a slap in my face as its meaning drills itself into my head. Forced to Fade... I guess they don’t use the word ‘killed’ here.
Akir—bless him—reacts very mildly to my crime, merely blinking and turning to me with questions in his eyes.
The pressure Goddess still exudes makes it a monumental effort, but in my need to explain I manage to open my mouth. Once the first words come tumbling out, the rest follow more easily. “It was an accident! I was just trying to scare the forest critters off so I could get to the fruit first, but they were so much faster than me, and so persistent, things just escalated. In the end, I was using a catapult to launch Extant pebbles at them, but I made it too strong, and one of the pebbles damaged this little bird’s Core... I never meant for—”
Goddess turns back to me and the weight of her gaze turns the remainder of that sentence into a strangled cry. Seconds tick by, feeling like minutes as she stares at me, appearing to deliberate over something. “You have put me before a conundrum, Emma,” she muses at long last, her voice taking on the quality of a whispered chorus once more.
I wait for her to continue, to explain, but she falls silent once more.
Akir speaks up instead. “Your Highness, if I may be so bold—”
“Speak.”
“Yes of course,” he hurriedly continues. “All I wanted to say was, if Your Highness were to grant Emma asylum, I would be most willing to take responsibility for her.”
Goddess cocks her head sideways, never taking her gaze off me, but not looking at my face so much as appearing to stare right through me. “Her connection is truly severed,” she says, seemingly to herself. “And so are the chains within—even mine. Remarkable.”
Chains within? Is she talking about the mind control she placed on me that flooded me with memories whenever I tried to enter this Realm? Well, good riddance!
“I suppose that means that technically...” Goddess turns her gaze back up to mine. “Tell me, Emma. Would you be willing to denounce the Peilor and formally request asylum?”
She lets go of my chain, and at the same time, the pressure holding me in place weakens, allowing me some degree of movement. As a result, I nearly plant myself on my face again, but I just manage to catch myself.
“I would, your Majesty,” I say, finding my footing stable enough to finally manage a shoddy bow. “I want nothing to do with the Peilor if I can help it. A-and I humbly beg for asylum and your forgiveness. I swear I’ve learned my lesson.”
“Teaching you a lesson was never my intention,” Goddess replies, the room turning cold with her tone. “And no lesson will undo the damage you wrought.”
I bow down deeper, keeping my gaze trained on the snowflakes now drifting down to the floor as frost forms in my eyebrows. “I realise that, Your Highness. I truly do. I’m deeply sorry for the suffering I caused.”
Goddess remains silent for a moment. “Your plea for asylum has been heard,” she says formally. Then she turns to Akir. “You would vouch for her, little Akir?”
From the corner of my eye, I see Akir draw himself up. “She’s a good kid, Your Highness,” he says. “Ignorant, foolhardy, extremely lacking in self-awareness, not to mention manners especially when it comes to respecting her elders—” He breaks off his sentence to clear his throat when he sees the withering glare I direct at him. “But... she has a good heart. She loves, and is loved. I would vouch for her.”
Goddess turns back to me. “Very well,” she says, her voice turning grand again as she silently floats a little higher, and the room grows dark. “I hereby grant you AMNESTY and ASYLUM.”
The words rumble through the spire, somehow echoing as though we were inside a cathedral.
“Make no mistake,” she continues, softer. “Amnesty is not forgiveness. It is a clean slate, a second chance. And asylum is not guaranteed survival. Your Espir is still draining quickly and how you stop from Fading in this Realm, untethered—and without harming anyone—is your own problem. But... I shall not stop you from trying.”
Then, with another clap like thunder, she disappears.
CHAPTER 2
Glorious food
As Goddess disappears, so does the last of the pressure holding me in place, and I immediately collapse to my knees.
Akir floats over and gently guides me over to a barstool, concern in his big black eyes. “You’re starting to look awfully faint. Here, drink this.”
One of his tentacles puts down a glass of some kind of multi-coloured drink and shoves it in my direction.
