80 Smokin

Noah spent the next twelve or so hours sitting next to the field of blue flowers and cradling his head as a violent headache rocked his body. The increased damage from getting eaten was bad, but the soul damage wasn't quite back to where it had been before – not yet, at least.

In his hazy state, he occasionally caught a glimpse of winged monsters flying through the sky overhead and lumbering forms on the distant plateaus. They were too far to get a good look at, but it was clear that the Windscorned Plateau had a slightly more diverse ecosystem of monsters than the Scorched Acres did.

Noah couldn't help but notice that, despite the visions still being there at night, the Hellreaver hadn't struck during the day again – unless he was attempting to take a rest by napping. The only link he could put together was that he wasn't fighting monsters in the Scorched Acres. The Hellreaver must have only been able to figure out when he was fighting if he was going up against the creatures it controlled. Otherwise, it clearly didn't care enough to bother him unless he was trying to sleep. Noah was forced to gain most of his rest from the energy that he got from killing monsters, but there was only so long that could last before he actually went insane.

Is the Hellreaver really this petty? God, I hate that thing.

When the pain relented and the fog lifted from his mind, he trudged over to the edge of the cliff and peered down. His sword was still wedged in the wall, far out of reach. Noah rubbed his chin.

No way am I leaving that behind. It cost too much gold and I'm still not getting paid for a little while – there's about a week until the next month. Waste not want not.

Noah wasn't confident the small amount of energy in his Wind Runes would be enough to pull the sword up to him, and he still had no Ash to work with. That would be rectified as soon as he got back to Arbitage.

"I wonder how precise I can make my vibrations," Noah mused. He sat down on the ground and focused on a small patch of the ground, touching it with his hand sending a pulse of magic into it. The dirt trembled in response.

Noah narrowed his attention to a single rock, his brow furrowing slightly. He tapped it with the tip of his finger and the stone shuddered. Noah nodded to himself, then sent another wave of magic into the ground.

Dirt trembled, piling up in a small ring and forming a crater in its center. Over the course of the next few hours. He swept the dirt away, then repeated the experiment, this time making the hole deeper and thinner.

Over the course of the next few hours, Noah continued to hone his fine control of the Vibration Runes. He used their magic until it ran out, then paused to let it recover before repeating the process once more.

He wasn't sure of the exact amount of time that had passed, but the sun dipped and rose once again over the horizon by the time he was confident with his modifications. Noah stood, ignoring the protests his knees and joints gave him after hours of sitting still, and rolled his neck.

"If this doesn't work, I'll just come back for the sword later and hope nobody has claimed or eaten it." Noah approached the edge of the cliff and looked down, locating the blade.

Noah knelt several feet away from the edge of the cliff and placed his hand against the ground. He'd found that his fine control was still far better when he sent magic through his hands rather than any other part of his body.

Whether that was due to a mental block or some other reason, Noah wasn't quite yet sure. It was yet another thing to look into on an ever growing list. He gathered the magic from his full Vibration Rune and sharpened it in his mind before sending it down in a spike.

The ground groaned. Noah took several steps back, quickly distancing himself from the cliff. Dirt cascaded to the plateau below as the earth split apart in a thin line, peeling away to form a very rough, slanted path down to his sword.

Noah grinned at his handiwork. He'd left the ground behind him completely scarred with similarly shaped, crisscrossing fault lines. Noah stepped into the thin gap, pressing his hands against the dirt on either side of him to make sure he didn't slip and loose his footing on the moist soil, and made his way downward.

He drew up to his sword, wedged into cliff wall just below his foot. Noah slowly lowered, keeping his weight on his heels. He stretched his hand out and snagged the hilt of the blade. Grinning, he gave it a slight tug.

It didn't budge. It was stuck. Noah's eyes narrowed. He pulled harder – and the dirt beneath his feet slipped, sending him over the edge of the cliff. Noah grabbed onto the hilt of his blade, ripping it free of as he fell.

Squeezing himself into a ball, Noah brought the sword to his feet and sent a pulse of Wind magic into it. The blade hummed to life and his knees shuddered, absorbing the shock as the sword launched him forward.

He zipped in a circle, then flew back up to the top of the plateau he'd been standing on and landed in a running jog. Noah wiped the sweat from his forehead with a grin, turning and picking his sword back up.

"Not too shabby. Could have been a bit more elegant, but we'll count it." Noah tucked his blade away and gave himself a satisfied nod. All things considered, it hadn't been a completely wasted trip. He'd killed two Fluffants and improved his control over both the Vibration Runes and Sunder. That was a good day.

Unfortunately, he hadn't managed to fill any of the Catchpapers, but Noah was confident that would come with time – and with getting a way to actually use Ash here. For the rest of the time until the transport cannon called him back to Arbitage, Noah just sat and waited, watching the clouds float across the sky.

***

Noah's back thudded against the metal turret of the transport cannon and he slid out of the turret, catching himself on the lip before he fell to the ground. He straightened and Tim gave him a friendly wave.

"Looks like you didn't get yourself torched this time," Tim said. "Get some good training in?"

"Not exactly," Noah admitted. "I'm still happy with my progress, though. Small steps, you know?"

"Small should be my middle name," Tim said with a wry smile. "Or perhaps Lesser would be more accurate."

Noah paused before he stepped onto the lift in the center of the tower. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing important." Tim waved his hand and chuckled. "Don't mind me. Us old men have a habit of reminiscing on the past. I'm perfectly happy where I am now."

Noah wanted to press the issue, but the look in Tim's eyes made it clear that he wasn't just being polite. Tim didn't want to speak about it, and it would have been inappropriate to disrespect his wishes – at the moment, at least.

We're coming back to this, Tim.

"If you're sure," Noah said. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then. Have a great one, Tim."

"You too, Vermil. Looking forward to it."

Noah stepped onto the lift and it rattled away. Once he'd been set on the stairs, Noah made his way down them to the ground and set off, making for the market district of Arbitage at a brisk pace.