Eldritch Guidance-Chapter 108 – Honey And Flies

In the dimly lit backroom of the Mortar and Pestle, Joe, Wren, and Crowley each fought to catch their breath, the tension of the encounter still thick in the air. Their chests heaved as they drew in labored breaths, the toll of the confrontation etched into their weary faces. Each man sought a moment of reprieve—Joe slumped into a chair, his arms resting limply on the table; Wren leaned heavily against a nearby counter, gripping its edge for support; and Crowley sank onto a stool, his shoulders sagging as he wiped sweat from his brow.

The exhaustion they felt wasn’t merely physical. Crowley’s powerful necros spell, though it had saved their lives, had also drained them of energy. The pulse of necros magic had left a lingering heaviness in their limbs, a sluggishness that weighed down even the simplest of movements. Joe felt as though the very essence of his strength had been briefly siphoned away, leaving his mind slightly foggy and his body uncooperative.

Wren, though visibly shaken, broke the silence first, muttering under his breath as he glanced nervously toward the floor, where the remains of the slimes had disintegrated into fine dust. Crowley, his usually steady demeanor strained, closed his eyes for a moment, his breaths slow and measured as though trying to regain a semblance of control.

Wren: “Oh, by the…ah… Mistress of Rot, what in the world did you do? I…huff… feel awful,” he said, leaning his body against a table while breathing heavily.

Crowley: “That…ah… was just a small harmless pulse of general necros energy. That heavy feeling is from the necros…should…ah… pass in a minute or two,” he said while breathing heavily, also affected by the spell he used.

Wren: “That…was small and…huff… harmless?! What would happen if you had…ah… used more necros than that!” he said with strained breath.

Crowley: “Then…ah… we would be on the floor unconscious, probably…huff… eaten by those slime monsters if more showed up.”

The three men sat in silence for several long minutes, the weight of the ordeal gradually lifting from their bodies. Each of them, in turn, found themselves slowly regaining their strength, the heavy fatigue that had gripped them starting to loosen its hold. The air in the room felt a little less suffocating, the sluggishness from the necros pulse beginning to fade, like an overcast lifting as the sunlight broke through.

Joe, at first, had to fight the feeling of heaviness in his limbs, the sensation that his muscles were made of lead. But as the minutes passed, he found that his breathing had returned to normal, and the exhaustion in his chest began to ease. His mind cleared, the dull ache of weariness retreating into the background. He flexed his fingers, noticing that the tingling fatigue that had once made even the smallest movement feel like a struggle had now disappeared.

Wren seemed to be the first to rise from his weary slump. He took a deep, steadying breath, testing his own body’s recovery. The herbalist straightened himself, running a hand through his unkempt dreadlocks. A relieved, if not slightly self-satisfied, expression crossed his face. His eyes, though, still held a touch of wariness.

Crowley, though the last to show signs of recovery, eventually relaxed his shoulders. He wiped his forehead again, his breathing steadying. The toll on his own body had been the heaviest, as he had been the one to wield the spell, but the familiar surge of necros energy was now subsiding. He exhaled deeply, shaking his head as if shaking off the lingering effects. His calm returned, but a slight grimace lingered at the edges of his features, the reminder of the burden he had carried in that final moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of collective silence, they were all able to speak again without the weight of fatigue in their voices. Joe cleared his throat and, with a glance around the room, broke the silence.

Joe: "Well, that was... intense," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice was steadier now, though still edged with the residual adrenaline from the fight.

Crowley, now leaning back in his chair, gave a slight nod.

Crowley: "The effects of the necros element are not to be underestimated," he said with a wry smile, his usual composed tone returning. "But it seems we're no worse for wear, thanks to that pulse. At least, physically."

Wren gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

Wren: "I'm not fond of the aftereffects. But... I suppose this is better than being eaten by slime monsters," he muttered, his voice gruff. He still seemed a little shaken, but his usual resolve was returning.

With that, they all settled into a more comfortable silence, the air in the room lighter now that the lingering effects of the necros magic had passed. Each of them, though still weary, was more than ready to move on to whatever came next.

Joe: “OK. Now then, what in the burning abyss did you do Wren?”

Wren: “Me!? What the fuck did I do?”

Joe: "Those things are only supposed to target people who've been marked," he said, his tone edged with frustration as he gestured vaguely toward the now-quiet room. "But those pursuer slimes? They were coming after all three of us," he paused, narrowing his eyes as his mind worked through the implications. "Unless we somehow managed to piss off some vengeful spirit who got bullied in high school and decided to mark us out of spite, something's clearly not adding up here."

His words carried a hint of sarcasm, but his unease was palpable. The situation wasn’t just strange—it was dangerously irregular.

Joe: “Maybe, you borked the ritual somehow.”

Crowley: "There wasn’t anything wrong with the ritual itself," the former Hand of Light said, breaking the flow of conversation. "I actually think the issue lies with the quartz that held the hex fragment. The crystal’s too small."

The priest paused, frowning as he replayed the events in his mind.

Crowley: "I noticed it when we empowered the hex fragment—the quartz turned completely black. If we’d used a larger crystal, I don’t think that would’ve happened. A bigger one might have been able to properly contain it." his voice grew more serious. "As it stands, I don’t think the hex fragment is fully contained anymore. That could explain why the slimes came after all of us—it’s leaking its influence."

Joe: “What does exactly that mean?”

Crowley: "It means the hex fragment we used for the ritual no longer needs to be attached to someone to attract those creatures," he explained, his tone grim. "Simply being near this thing is enough to make you a valid target for them now. And, with the way the fragment is now empowered, it’s likely acting like a massive beacon—drawing in every slime creature within several miles, like flies to honey."

Wren: "Oh, no. We’ve essentially turned this fragment into a magnet for those things. If we don’t act fast, it’s only a matter of time before more of them show up—and in greater numbers. Fuck! Get that thing out of my store, now!"

Joe: “Shit! Can we move that hex fragment into a bigger crystal?”

Crowley: “We would have to go find a bigger crystal and I’m not sure if it can be moved.”

Joe: “Damn it! Then we’ll have to destroy the crystal and start over with a new hex fragment.”

Wren: “You can’t break that crystal now!” the herbalist yelled. “With the way the hex fragment is, it will not dissipate like normal. It will probably attach itself to a random person, drawing the slimes toward that person and everyone near them.”

Joe: “What about containing it? Father Crowley, you put a protective circle around Larrs, can you do something like that with this fragment,” he said while pointing at the box that had the fragment in it. ƒreewebɳovel.com

Crowley: “That protection spell only protects an individual from being marked. It won’t help with this.”

Joe: “What about leaving it in a place far away from people.”

Crowley: “The slimes might break the crystal they’re being drawn to, and then we run back into the same problem of the hex fragment attaching to a random person.”

Joe: “So we can’t destroy it or contain it. What option do I have left?”

Wren: “You have to use the fragment to find the ritual circle and then break it! If you destroy the summoning circle, all the hex fragments and slimes will disappear!” he yelled, trying to hurry Joe along and out of his store.

Joe: "But if those slimes are being spawned from that ritual circle, then the closer I get to it, the more of them I’m likely to encounter," Joe said, his voice tense with the weight of the realization. "Carrying this thing would be like jumping into shark-infested waters while dripping blood—it’s practically suicide! They’ll swarm me the moment I get anywhere near that area."

Crowley placed a firm yet reassuring hand on Joe's shoulder, his expression steady and calm. His gaze conveyed a deep sense of understanding, coupled with a quiet determination. With a small nod, he silently offered both his support and his reassurance, as if to say, You’re not in this alone.

Crowley: “Sometimes we are called upon to prove our convictions, it is now your turn. You say you wanted to save people, so now you must carry this burden to the source of the problem,” he said while looking at the box containing the hex fragment.

Joe silently weighed his options, the gravity of the situation pressing heavily on his mind. No matter how he turned it over, he couldn’t see a viable way out. Containing the hex fragment was beyond his resources, and he refused to pass the curse onto someone else, dooming them to the horrific fate of being consumed by those monstrous slimes.

In the end, Wren’s suggestion was the only path forward, as unappealing and dangerous as it was. He needed to locate the source—find the circle where these slimes were being spawned—and put a stop to it. The alternative was clear: delay too long, and he’d be overwhelmed by an ever-growing tide of grotesque pursuer slimes.

Joe let out a weary sigh, bracing himself for the grim task ahead. This wasn’t just about finding Jixi anymore; it was a desperate race against time, with his and others lives now hanging in the balance.

Joe: “Father Crowley, I hate to ask this of you, but will you accompany me. I can’t use necros, and that seems to be the only way to defend against these things.”

Joe understood he was asking for something monumental from the former priest, and he wouldn’t have blamed Crowley if he refused. What he was proposing wasn’t just dangerous—it was basically a suicide mission. The odds of survival were slim, and the risk was staggering. Yet, as Joe locked eyes with Crowley, he didn’t find hesitation or fear staring back at him.

Instead, he saw a quiet, unwavering resolve. It was as if Crowley had already made his decision long before the question had even left Joe’s lips. There was no need for persuasion or appeals to morality; the answer was written in the steady strength of the former priest’s gaze. Crowley was ready, not because it was easy or because he was fearless, but because it was the right thing to do.

Crowley: “Of course. What kind of person would I be if I didn't do what I could to help someone in need.”

Wren glanced back and forth between Crowley and Joe, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and exasperation. To him, the moment felt oddly like the start of some clichéd bromance, the kind he found both awkward and slightly cringeworthy.

Wren: "Alright, you two," Wren interjected, waving a hand to break the tension. "Now that you've had your heartfelt moment, can we move on? Take this cursed hex fragment and get it the fuck out of my store—now!" His voice carried a sharp edge, though the annoyance was undercut by his obvious desire to see the fragment gone as quickly as possible.

Joe quickly grabbed the wooden box containing the hex fragment. He glanced at the compass embedded in the lid, noting its needle fixed unwaveringly toward the southeast. Without wasting another second, he spun on his heel and dashed out of the store, his boots pounding against the floor.

Crowley was right behind him, his long strides catching up easily as the two men exited into the cool air outside. The former priest gave one last wary glance toward the Mortar and Pestle before following after Joe.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Wren inside to exhale a shaky breath.

Wren: "Good riddance," he muttered, locking the door and muttering something about needing to clean up the mess from the slime monsters.