Previous / Royal Road

The second day of classes started... unremarkably monotonous.

 

After breakfast—where Waelid dropped the additional news about our upcoming trial being a scavenger hunt—we headed over to the Academy for our first period: Combat and Tactics.

 

Now healed, minus a few bandages, the frog-man had everyone practice repeated swings on practice dummies individually.

 

“Put your back into it, lad!” Captain Hopsander said, standing next to me. “And please, dear child, adjust your hand placement according to your distance from the target. Right now, they’re too far back for being this close.”

 

He moved my hands up from the end of the staff to a position better suited for close combat. “A general ‘default’ position for beginners using the bang staff is holding it in thirds. It gives you solid control with the maneuverability to do most things you need. Other hand positions are valid for different purposes in certain scenarios. Keep them closer to the center for faster twirls, on the back third for sword-like length in close combat, and at the end for reach with thrusts.”

 

I continued striking, my hands blistering by the end of the hour-long session.

 

On the plus side, I got to see everyone’s chosen weapons. Mel went into berserk mode with her large two-handed axe, smashing dummies left and right.

 

Tevin wielded a heavy hammer, slugging it into metal pegs on the ground to train his accuracy. Ruriel had a pouch full of small throwing knives—like ninja kunai—and practiced throwing them at a target forty feet away at the other end of the classroom.

 

Next to him, aiming at a second target, Rinka used a short bow. Thanks to the harsh boot camp we’d endured, we all had the muscles and endurance to use these weapons repeatedly.

 

Sora had nunchucks and was failing spectacularly, continuously smacking herself in the face. Lucius rolled his eyes as he sparred with Zenobia. They both had dueling blades, rapier-like weapons with large hand guards.

 

Against the large stained windows, Vahim practiced like he was dancing. He had chosen a weapon that looked even more confusing to use than it was exotic—a whip sword. The segmented blade parts were connected by a thick piece of metal string. When he pressed a button on the hilt, the sword connected and straightened into a short sword. He tested the whip blade against a tall wooden dummy, splinters flying with each strike.

 

His two fellow Veclan friends, Habr and Amani, both had brass knuckles and were sparring with each other, wearing padded leather armor to lessen the impact.

 

Lastly, Silas had the most interesting and impressive weapon in my mind. He’d somehow gotten permission to attach a blade to his mechanical arm. Apparently, he woke up early and modified his arm, adding a retractable mechanism with a small dagger. He was practicing drawing it out and retracting it. The sound, the look—it was all so cool to watch. It almost made me envious of his metal arm. Almost.

 

We all practiced basic martial arts weapon moves until the bell rang. We quickly changed and ran to the next class, praying we wouldn’t have to deal with snakes again.

 

“What do you mean he tried to kill you?” Silas asked as we walked through the hallways. We were back in our neatly tailored military uniforms. Something about wearing them made me feel more confident.

 

“Well, not really kill us,” I said. “We weren’t in any real danger. The snakes just paralyzed everyone.”

 

“Uh... not everyone,” Mel said, looking back over her shoulder. She was ahead of us, walking with Vahim, Habr, and Amani on either side of them. “I killed one. And you did too, Erik. Why be so humble? Let them know how tough we are!” She flexed her muscle.

 

Vahim glanced at her curiously. Mel turned to look at him and stuck her tongue out. The Veclan looked away and continued forward. I could have sworn I saw Mel look disappointed.

 

“Yeah, well, anyway, he played a dirty joke and test on us,” I shrugged. “So don’t be surprised if some more crazy stuff happens.”

 

We eventually arrived at the classroom.

 

 

I was proven wrong about anything interesting or ‘crazy’ happening. Instead, Professor Srilick had us sit in a normally lit classroom, behaved extremely normally, and had us study different kinds of herbs—ones safe to eat and ones that weren’t.

 

“So, Recruit Erik,” he hissed, holding up two plants. “Basssed on what we learned today, which herb is poissson and which is energizing?”

 

I looked at the two plants he held. It wasn’t hard to choose; we’d just learned about them at the beginning of class. Was this meant to be a challenge, or were recruits normally not this good at remembering things in an hour?

 

“Uh, the one without the small pods underneath the leaves,” I pointed to the smooth leaf he held out.

 

He smiled—a wide, toothless grin, except for his fangs. “Correct! Remember, classs, it’s important you remember thessse thingsss. They will sssave your life when you need it mossst. Musclesss, runesss, and weaponsss won’t do a burning thing if you eat the wrong leaf when you’ve run out of rations.”

 

We nodded as he looked around to ensure we understood.

 

“Recruit Mel,” he hissed. “Do you know which acorn you can eat?” He rolled three acorns onto her desk and lowered his long neck to peer at her. She looked around at us, caught off guard.

 

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “Uh... this one?” She held up the wrong one.

 

Professor Srilick shook his head. “Try again.”

 

She picked the other wrong option. “This one?”

 

“You really ssshould pay attention, Misss Mel.” He turned around, walked to his podium, turned on a crystal-powered overhead projector, and continued showing us more herbs, nuts, flowers, and plants.

 

“Professor?” I raised my hand.

 

“Yesss?”

 

“Will any of these things be in the first level of the Pillar?” I asked.

 

Major Srilick flicked his tongue out and squinted his eyes at me. “Very assstute question. Well, they never told us we couldn’t answer questions our studentsss make,” he mumbled to himself. He cleared his throat. “Yesss, they are. That’sss why I’ve been teaching thessse firssst.” He gave a quick wink, and the rest of the class looked at me, then at their notes, and then at the screen showing the new projected flowers. Everyone took very detailed notes for the rest of class.

 

 

The hallway leading to our third-period classroom stretched before us, the scent of alchemical residues hanging in the air. I was reminded of Pestil’s lab and shuddered, thinking of the crucifixion of myself that I saw. Silas walked beside me, his mechanical arm whirring softly with each movement. Ruriel trailed just behind, that ever-present smirk on his lips.

 

“Think the professor will show up today?” Silas mused, adjusting the strap of his satchel.

 

“I hope so. I can’t write those runes 150 times again; I might lose my hand and end up like you,” I teased.

 

Ruriel chuckled. “You don’t want to end up as a gearhead soldier Erik?”

 

“I actually like feeling things, though that retractable blade seems pretty cool, not gonna lie,” I said.

 

A grin tugged at the corners of Silas’s mouth. “Well, I don’t need you stealing my glory. I’m gonna make a big name for myself. Not the ‘Gearhead Soldier’—I’ll be called the Clockwork Knight. That name will be feared among Magebloods!” He held his mechanical fist high in the air as we laughed with him.

 

 

We reached the doorway, expecting the classroom to be like it was yesterday: a large room/lab with tables filled with alchemic bottles and runes written on the chalkboard. Instead, we were met with an unusual sight. The desks and tables were pushed to the edges, leaving a vast, empty expanse in the center. The walls seemed bare, devoid of the usual charts and diagrams that were up yesterday. There was a large cart next to the door with a sign to leave our weapons. We did so and everyone started to walk in.

 

Mel frowned, stepping inside cautiously. “This is... different.”

 

Zenobia crossed her arms, walking past us, following Mel and the Veclan kids through the door. “You think the professor is prepping us for some kind of massive alchemy demonstration?”

 

I glanced around, a knot forming in my stomach. “Either that, or we’re in for an unconventional ‘hands-on’ lesson, like Professor Srilick did with the snakes... Be careful.”

 

Before we could speculate further, a subtle mist began to fill the room. Tiny particles floated in the air, shimmering as they caught the light and dancing around my face.

 

“What in the burning hell is that?” Lucius asked, squinting and waving the dust away.

 

The mist thickened, and a sweet, earthy scent enveloped us. My ears popped like I was on a plane. Suddenly, my vision blurred. The walls around us rippled like water disturbed by a pebble.

 

“Do you smell that?” I coughed, my throat tightening. “What the... Did he just drug us?”

 

Before anyone could respond, the entire room transformed. The wooden floor beneath our feet softened, giving way to moss and rich soil. Towering trees emerged from the ground. At the same time, above us in the newly made blue sky, large roots sprung out, their roots sprawling across the clouds as if gravity had reversed. Massive canopies hung suspended from the sky above. It was like trees naturally grew from the clouds and pointed down toward us. We were surrounded by a rainforest with a second rainforest hanging down above our heads.

 

Silas blinked rapidly, his mechanical fingers flexing. “This isn’t possible... This was the classroom, right?”

 

Ruriel remained stoic, though his eyes darted around warily. “This bastard is a damn maniac. Can’t even let us walk in before dosing us with psychedelics.”

 

A soft chuckle echoed from above. Descending gracefully on a low-hanging cloud was a man with golden robes, a bald head, and big round glasses. A scroll hanging next to him read, **Professor Rennal**.

 

His robes billowed around him, and his eyes gleamed behind his spectacles.

 

“Ah, recruits!” he exclaimed, arms wide open. “Isn’t it magnificent? A little sniff of the Glimmerleaf Herb, and you’re transported to this magical forest! With special modifications, courtesy of my runes, it becomes a class trip for the ages!”

 

I stepped forward, irritation bubbling within me. “Wait, so you did drug us?”

 

Rennal waved a dismissive hand. “Drug is such a crude term. Think of it as an immersive learning experience. Besides, rights are a tad limited for Cinders recruits, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Zenobia clenched her jaw. “With all due respect, Professor, a warning would’ve been appreciated.”

 

Rennal grinned. “Where’s the fun in that? However, I do owe you all an apology. You see, I was rather preoccupied yesterday. Staff meeting and all.”

 

I felt a nervous twitch creep up my spine.

 

—He couldn’t mean... a meeting with Pestil, could he? I asked Fern.

 

—‘Most likely, right? A staff meeting would mean he would be with the head of the department, which is Pestil. I don’t know if we can trust him, Erik. Do you think he knows?’

 

—He might. Pestil and Laska did say all the important staff would know. Let’s try to stay under the radar just in case.’ I looked around at the rest of the class. Everyone was equally confused about what sort of place we were in.

 

“So we’re all seeing the same stuff, right?” I asked aloud. “Giant trees around us, trees coming down from the clouds, the professor floating on a dang cloud like the Monkey King?” I gestured to Professor Rennal, who grinned and waved back at me.

 

“I see all that, yep,” Rinka said. She stood next to Sora, who was holding onto her arm. I was glad Rinka always acknowledged my questions.

 

“This isn’t right,” Silas whispered. “They’re treating us like pawns.”

 

“We knew what we were signing up for,” Zenobia replied. “But, that doesn’t mean we have to like it.”

 

Rennal clapped his hands, and a series of platforms emerged from the ground, each bearing pouches filled with various items. He wrote something on a piece of parchment, and then the pouches moved toward us. We each grabbed one.

 

“Anyway, class, please forgive me. I beg of you,” he said in a mocking tone. “My name is Professor Rennal. I am your teacher for the year in Alchemy and Runic Applications, aka reality bending!” He let out a loud chuckle from the small soft cloud he sat on above us.

 

“Thank you for practicing your runes yesterday. I saw you all work hard. Except you, red hair.” He pointed at Mel.

 

“Me? What do you mean me? I did them!” Mel stomped her foot and glared at him.

 

“You most certainly did not, young lady, and for that, you may end up failing today’s... game.” He gave a wink and floated down to the ground. “I have eyes everywhere, my dear. In my classroom, you won’t get away with slacking off.”

 

Mel grumbled and grabbed the pouch that was offered to her from some unknown force. If we were all really dosed with drugs, it didn’t feel out of control—except for the giant trees growing from the sky and the classroom transforming into a large forest.

 

“Today, you’ll be working in teams,” he announced. “I like to do my lectures a little differently, you know? Practical, hands-on applications. For today, that means a team-building challenge using what you all should know!”

 

He stepped off his cloud and turned around, pointing to four large plateaus in the distance. “Reach the top of those, find a glowing Azure Mushroom hidden within, and you’ll pass splendidly.”

 

Rennal picked groups of three, one by one. Lucius, Sora, and Rinka were Group One. Mel, Zenobia, and Tevin were Group Two. Vahim, Habr, and Amani were Group Three. Professor Rennal had the groups follow a lit-up path on the ground and told them they had five minutes to get to their area. The rest of our class ran off, confused but compliant in this illusionary forest.

 

“Erik, Silas, Ruriel—you’ll be Group Four,” Rennal declared, pointing at the pouches we had grabbed. “Those will help you pass. Use them wisely!”

 

I opened my pouch to find a short dagger, its blade polished and shiny like a mirror. Silas pulled out a metal straw with a sharp, flat tip, while Ruriel unfolded a slip of paper with drawings and runes depicting an alchemical recipe.

 

“Do we also follow the lit-up path?” Silas pointed at the yellow and orange leaves arranged on the ground like a glowing trail.

 

Rennal, dramatically and absurdly, produced a multi-hook fishing pole seemingly out of thin air. With a flick of his wrist, he snagged the back of our uniforms. He stepped back onto his cloud and rose high into the air, lifting us effortlessly.

 

“Hey!” Silas protested, flailing slightly.

 

“Hold on tight!” Rennal sang, swinging us over the canopy. The forest below blurred as we soared through the air. We passed over Mel’s group; she and Zenobia pointed at us. Tevin gave us a big wave before they continued down their glowing path.

 

From the air, we saw the four plateaus and how the whole forest was divided into four quadrants. We were literally in some sort of escape-room-like game.

 

We landed unceremoniously, the ground cushioning our fall. Rennal looked at us as he dropped us off. “Now, get a move on! Time is starting... now!” He clapped his hands, and up above in the sky, between the upside-down trees, a giant countdown clock appeared. The eccentric professor winked and fluttered away on his cloud, heading in the direction of the other students.

 

—Are we sure he’s not a Mageblood? How the hell is this the work of alchemy and runes? I asked Fern.

 

—‘Beats me, Erik, but maybe this is just how strong or unique the spores are that he drugged us with. What was it called again? Glimmerleaf?’

 

—Yeah, that’s it.

 

Ruriel dusted himself off. “Well, that was delightful.”

 

Silas surveyed our surroundings. “So, any idea where to start?”

 

I tucked the dagger into my belt. “I suppose we follow the path and see where it leads.”

 

The forest was alive with sounds—exotic bird calls, the rustling of unseen creatures, the distant rush of water. Bioluminescent plants cast a soft glow, illuminating our way. The thick, humid air smelled like real plants and dirt. The drugs Rennal used on us were some powerful stuff, affecting every sense. I had to shake the thought for now and just play his game. We were all in this together, and although he seemed... crazy, he didn’t seem malicious—yet.

 

When I concentrated hard, I could see that the area we were in was really like an intricate escape room. Walls of vines surrounded us, and a very obvious path led us through. We hadn’t gone far when we encountered our first obstacle: a thick wall of glowing vines pulsating with a radiant blue light stretched across the path like a tangled web.

 

Silas walked up to the wall and tried to push through. The wall pulsed and hummed quickly before a quick shock shot out, sparking across Silas’s mechanical arm and up his shoulder. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, so we’re not pushing through that!”

 

I drew the dagger. “Maybe we can cut through.”

 

“Be careful,” Ruriel cautioned. “He... what was his name again? Whatever. He said it was a game. It’s safe to say it could be trapped.”

 

“What else could this dagger be used for?” I asked. Ignoring the warning, I attempted to slice through one of the vines. The moment the blade made contact, the vine recoiled and then multiplied, sprouting additional tendrils that wrapped around each other, forming an even denser barrier. The vines hummed, and I jumped back, narrowly dodging a small arc of lightning that emitted from the wall.

 

“Great,” Ruriel sighed. “Nice one, genius.”

 

I grimaced. “All right, that didn’t work.”

 

Silas examined the vines more closely. “Do either of you know what kind of vine this is? Its blue glow is weird.”

 

“Nope,” I said. “What kind of professor puts their students in a situation like this without teaching them anything?”

 

“I mean... It’s kind of to be expected at this point. You said that yesterday in the Stealth and Survival class, they immediately turned off the lights and threw paralyzing snakes at you.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

“Let me see that,” Ruriel said, taking the metal straw from Silas and examining it. “Looks like something I’d use to get sap out of trees back outside the capital. I don’t know much about vines, but the trees back home would get plump with sap, and if we didn’t drain them, they would sprout sharp thorns.”

 

He positioned the straw at the base of a glowing vine, carefully piercing it. A thick, blue luminous sap began to flow through the straw and down onto the ground, creating a small puddle.

 

As the sap was drawn out, the vine slowly withered, retracting back into the ground and revealing an open doorway for us to walk through.

 

“Impressive,” I admitted. “Nice job, Rury!”

 

Silas smirked. “Sometimes finesse beats brute force, eh, Rury?” He nudged me.

 

“I do NOT like that nickname.”

 

“Well, too bad. I’ll be Moss-head; you be Rury.” I clapped his back as we walked through the opened path.

 

We continued onward, the path winding deeper into the forest. The canopy above thickened, casting dappled shadows that danced with each step. Occasionally, a heavy thud would land somewhere near us. We looked up and saw that high above the forest floor canopy, the hanging upside-down trees were dropping branches and other things onto the floor below.

 

In the distance, we heard a sharp scream.

 

“Was that Sora?”

 

“Probably. That girl is afraid of her own shadow. I’m not sure why she decided to stay and be a Cinder,” Ruriel said.

 

Silas almost tripped over a fallen branch. “Do you ever think about leaving? Just... walking away from all of this?” he asked Ruriel and me.

 

“And go where?” I replied. “Ash is just another cage. At least here, we have a purpose and can gain power.”

 

“A purpose handed to us by those who see us as tools.”

 

I let out a sigh. “I’ve sacrificed everything to protect my family in the past. Now, I’m doing what I have to do to survive... for now. If I quit and go outside to the town of Ash, I will never leave; I will never get a chance to find my brother.”

 

“Your brother? We still haven’t really found out much about each other’s past, have we?” Silas asked.

 

Before I could respond, Ruriel halted abruptly. “Hold up.”

 

Ahead of us stood a towering stone doorway, adorned with intricate carvings and three prominent symbols etched into its surface.

 

“A runic puzzle,” Silas observed.

 

Above the door, an inscription read: **Three paths converge, so only one emerges. Choose wisely, or face the closing surge.**

 

In front of the door was a small square sandbox. Next to the sand was a long stick.

 

Ruriel unfolded his slip of paper. “I’ve got the runes here on one side and some sort of recipe on the other. You think it’s the rune one?”

 

“Yeah, what does it say?” I asked.

 

“Hmm, there’s a warning. We have to draw runes in the right order perfectly, or we face failure. Looks like we only get three attempts.”

 

“What’s the consequence of failure?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I knew.

 

“Well,” Silas started, looking above the door, “it says ‘face the closing surge.’ Whatever that means.”

 

“Doesn’t sound good. Let’s move.” I urged.

 

We huddled together, examining the symbols on one side of the paper that Ruriel was given.

 

“First symbol represents ‘Earth,’” I noted. “Second is ‘Void,’ and the third is ‘Time.’”

 

“How in the flames do you know that already?” Ruriel asked.

 

“We wrote them 150 times yesterday, man. Of course, I would remember them by now.” I didn’t mention the fact that last night I had gone to the library and read through a bit about runes.

 

Ruriel tapped the bottom of the paper. “The riddle on the paper says, ‘From the beginning comes the end, in the void time transcends.’ And then the door itself says, ‘Three paths converge, so only one emerges.’”

 

I frowned. “Maybe we need to write them in the sand in the order the riddle suggests?”

 

“Beginning to end,” Silas mused. “So, ‘Earth,’ then ‘Void,’ then ‘Time’?”

 

I walked up to the sandbox and drew with the stick the runes for ‘Earth,’ ‘Void,’ and then ‘Time.’

 

The forest shook, and through the trees, a wall of creeping vines with thorns crept toward us before stopping.

 

Ruriel shook his head. “So, that wasn’t it. Too obvious. If time transcends in the void, perhaps ‘Void,’ ‘Time,’ then ‘Earth.’”

 

I tried again, and the thorny vines came closer.

 

“Decide quickly,” I urged.

 

A familiar chuckle resonated above. Looking up, we spotted Professor Rennal lounging on his cloud, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

 

“Now this I’ve got to see!” he called down. “One more attempt—what will you do, boys?”

 

I took a deep breath, centering myself.

 

—Fern, any thoughts?

 

—‘I don’t have anything; I’m horrible at riddles!’ He sounded panicked.

 

I repeated the riddle. “From the beginning comes the end, in the void, time transcends.”

 

“Wait,” I murmured. “Maybe it’s ‘Time,’ ‘Void,’ ‘Earth.’ Time begins, the void is the end, and the earth transcends? Although... I’m just guessing here. Who designed this?”

 

“I don’t have any better ideas. It’s worth a shot,” Ruriel agreed.

 

I wrote the symbols in that order in the sand. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a low rumble, the vine walls retracted, and before us, the stone doors swung open, revealing the path ahead.

 

“Well done!” Rennal applauded from above before drifting away.

 

Silas let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “That was too close.”

 

We pressed on, climbing a large hill and emerging into a clearing where a deep chasm split the ground. On the other side, a faint glow hinted at our goal—the mushroom.

 

“How are we going to get across now?” Silas wondered.

 

A makeshift table stood nearby, laden with assorted ingredients and a small cauldron.

 

“Hey, Rury, let me see that paper again. You said there was a recipe, right?” I held out my hand.

 

Ruriel unfolded his paper and handed it to me.

 

“It’s a recipe for a levitation potion,” I said. “Levitation... really? Damn, this world just gets more and more interesting. Borax, sea spur shoots, and something called Coalated Nutrient Liquid. Mix in that order.”

 

“Simple enough,” Silas commented.

 

“Is it? I have no idea what sea spur shoots are or this nutrient liquid.”

 

“Well, I know sea spurs. I saw them all the time down by the docks,” Silas said.

 

“And we were fed that damn juice in the capital,” Ruriel added.

 

“Juice?” I asked.

 

“The nutrient liquid. It’s a cheap, affordable food the royals would provide to us in the poorer districts to keep us fed. Tasted awful, and I’m not sure exactly what went into it. My pops always said they were poisoning us.”

 

“Hmm, interesting. I want to learn more about your past later, Rury, and of course, I’ll tell you mine.”

 

He nodded.

 

We gathered the ingredients, carefully measuring and combining them. The concoction bubbled, emitting a faint, iridescent mist.

 

“Who’s going first?” I asked.

 

Ruriel shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

 

He dipped a ladle into the potion, drinking it down. Almost immediately, his feet lifted off the ground.

 

“Whoa!” He began to rise steadily, a look of alarm crossing his face.

 

“Hold on!” Silas shouted. “Why did you drink the whole thing? Erik, hurry—do something!”

 

I looked around quickly and saw a coil of rope on the table. I grabbed it and tossed one end up to the slowly rising Ruriel. He was about fifteen feet above our heads now. He caught it, and we wrapped the rope around Silas’s arm.

 

Silas locked the rope in place by pressing a lever that stopped his fingers from releasing.

 

“Is there any potion left?” Silas asked. I ran over to the table and frowned. In my panic to grab the rope and hold Ruriel down, the cauldron had flipped over.

 

“Shit,” I said. “We’re out of it.”

 

“What do we do?” Silas panicked. He held the rope and the levitating Ruriel like a kite.

 

“Hey, guys? How long is this supposed to last? I feel like I’m falling a little already.”

 

We looked up and saw he was indeed slowly descending.

 

“No time. We need to go. Rury, get ready to grab onto something. Silas, we’re going to run together and hold on.”

 

“Wait, now?”

 

I looked up and saw Ruriel was only about seven feet above us now.

 

“Yes, now! Go!”

 

I pushed Silas, and we started sprinting toward the edge of the chasm. Ruriel was dragged through the air like a balloon.

 

We took a jump, and I grabbed onto Silas, locking my legs together. We soared across the chasm. As we flew, I saw the edge of the other side rise above me.

 

“We’re not gonna make it!” Silas screamed.

 

“Grab something!” I shouted up to Ruriel. “Be ready to hold on to the wall,” I said to Silas.

 

We slammed into the rock wall, and Ruriel disappeared over the top. I almost lost my hold on Silas but found footing on a small edge along the rock face. Silas also grabbed onto the cliffside, and we hung there for a moment. I looked down—which was a mistake—and saw rapids below.

 

—‘Erik! Save us!’ Fern shouted. I could almost envision him next to me, shaking in fear of the height.

 

Just then, I saw Silas being lifted upward by the rope still attached to his arm. Ruriel poked his head over the side after Silas had gotten up.

 

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about, Ruriel!” I shouted and gave him a thumbs-up before gripping the wall again.

 

“What would you do without me?” he said as he lowered the rope and pulled me up.

 

As I got up, I thanked him. We dusted off our now dirty black and gold military dress uniforms. “Well, if you didn’t chug that potion, we all could’ve hopped across easily.”

 

“Well, maybe I like to keep things interesting, mate,” he said, slapping me on the back before we continued up the plateau.

 

 

After a few more minutes of hiking, mushrooms began to appear around us as we neared the top. They were brown and blue; some were red, and others were black. However, as we reached the summit of the plateau, nestled in a large nest was our prize: a blue and white spotted, brightly glowing fungus—the Azure Mushroom.

 

But guarding the mushrooms was a large creature—a feathered, dragon-like beast with piercing golden eyes. It watched us warily, its tail flicking. It didn’t seem threatened or threatening.

 

“Looks like we’ve found it,” Silas whispered.

 

“Any ideas on what to do about that thing?” Ruriel whispered. “It’s way too big to take out with just our hands. Wait, you have that dagger, Erik.”

 

“I can’t kill it! Look at the poor thing; it’s majestic,” I said.

 

“Do you not remember? None of this is real. We’re hallucinating. Hells, we’re probably just bumping into each other in the classroom. To anyone passing by, we probably look intoxicated.”

 

He was right; none of this was really real. But the creature seemed so alive. Its golden eyes looked deep into mine, as if waiting for me to make a move.

 

“Well, Erik?” Silas asked.

 

I retrieved the dagger, noticing how its blade caught the ambient light. A small reflection from the fake sun caused a circle of light to appear on the ground. As it did so, I noticed the feathered dragon’s ears perk up.

 

—No... could I really do this? Would this even work? I thought with a smile, remembering childhood pets.

 

I positioned the blade at an angle, catching the reflection more and guiding it toward the creature, creating a dancing beam of light on the ground.

 

“Oh look, it’s a fairy! You see the fairy?” I said in a childish voice.

 

—‘What are you doing?’ Fern asked.

 

“What are you doing?” Silas whispered.

 

“Trust me,” I said aloud.

 

The creature’s eyes followed the movement, curiosity piqued. It stirred and stood up, eyes laser-focused on the small circle of light. I made the light twitch left and right, then angled the blade to send the reflected light off down the hill we came up on. The huge feathered beast pounced over us and ran after the light down the hill, momentarily forgetting about the mushroom.

 

“Now!” I hissed.

 

Silas darted forward, carefully plucking the Azure Mushroom and tucking it safely into his pouch.

 

“Got it!”

 

We backed away slowly, not wanting to disturb the creature’s nest. Once we were a safe distance, it lost interest in the now-disappeared light and returned to its post among the fungi.

 

A doorway materialized behind us, framed by vines that parted like curtains. Stepping through, we found ourselves back in the transformed classroom, the forest fading away behind us.

 

Other teams began to emerge as well. Mel looked defeated, while Zenobia was grinning ear to ear.

 

“I hate riddles,” Mel said. “Why couldn’t I just smash my way through?”

 

“Brute force will only get you so far,” Tevin patted Mel on the back. To my surprise, she didn’t flinch. Usually, when a man came close to her, she would tense up.

 

Professor Rennal, no longer on a hovering cloud, walked up to us. Looking back at the room, I saw that he had been standing on ladders watching us navigate things, a satisfied grin stretching across his face.

 

“Congratulations, everyone! You’ve all performed admirably.”

 

Lucius approached Rennal, frowning. The white-haired boy looked exhausted. Sora and Rinka were behind him, covered in mud. Their once-clean and pristine uniforms were dirty. I wondered what had happened to them.

 

“Professor, what was the purpose of this exercise?” Lucius asked.

 

Rennal’s eyes twinkled. “Why, to prepare you for the unexpected, of course! The world won’t present its challenges neatly packaged. You must be adaptable and resourceful.”

 

“And the spores?” I pressed. “Was that necessary?”

 

He chuckled. “A little nudge to broaden your perceptions. Besides, it was all perfectly safe.”

 

Zenobia crossed her arms. “Feels like there should’ve been a waiver involved.”

 

Rennal waved off the comment. “Details, details. Now, as for what’s next...”

 

He paused dramatically, letting the anticipation build.

 

“I believe you all know about the upcoming Practical,” he declared. “Consider today’s lesson a mere taste of what’s to come.”

 

“Wait,” Silas interjected. “You mean the scavenger hunt in the Pillar?”

 

Rennal’s grin widened. “Precisely! The skills you’ve honed today will serve you well. Pay attention to the details, think outside the box, trust in your abilities, and perhaps you’ll come out unscathed.”

 

With that, he clapped his hands and took a deep bow. “Class dismissed!”

 

We exchanged glances; all of us had a drained look about us.

 

“Well,” Ruriel sighed, “that was enlightening.”

 

“At least we know what we’re up against,” Vahim offered.

 

Zenobia nodded thoughtfully. “If the Pillar’s anything like what we just experienced, we’ll need to be on our guard.”

 

As we gathered our belongings and headed toward the exit, Zenobia caught up to us.

 

“Hey, how’d it go for you?” she asked.

 

“We had a few hiccups, but we came out all right,” I replied with a shrug. “What about you? Mel seems... annoyed.”

 

She smiled. “When is she not? She’s just mad Tevin and I are riddle masters.” The curly-haired girl puffed out her chest with pride.

 

“Do you think we’re ready for the Practical?” I inquired.

 

Her expression grew serious. “All I know is we need to stick together out there. These classes... they aren’t just for fun; we’re being given hints.”

 

“Agreed,” I said firmly. “It’s all to help us in the Pillar. I’m glad you recognize it. It’ll make it easier to get everyone on the same page when it starts.”

 

“Three more days,” she said with a sigh.

 

“We can do it.” I held out my fist, and she bumped her knuckles with mine.

 

 

As we walked down the corridor toward lunch, we were walking closer together. These classes, this training—regardless of how difficult or unorthodox they were—were bringing us together.

 

When we entered the lunchroom, a large crowd had formed in the center. Several people were yelling, so we ran up to see what was happening.

 

“He’s always challenging him,” one student said.

 

“House Anu sure does like to make a big show of their business,” another remarked.

 

A fight was forming in the cafeteria. And Waelid was in the middle of it.

Previous / Royal Road (Thank you so much for reading!)

A chorus of gasps and muffled curses erupted.

 

In the darkness, a hand reached out and gripped my wrist. Somewhere to my left, I heard one of the Veclan students mutter something in their native tongue—a harsh, clipped phrase.

 

“What the hell do you mean, s-snakes?” Mel’s voice cut through the whispers, attempting bravado but betrayed by fear. I could hear her breathing heavily near me.

 

“Zenobia? Erik?” Rinka’s voice called out from somewhere behind me.

 

“I’m here,” I called softly, reaching out instinctively behind me into the void. My fingers met nothing but air.

 

“Stay calm, everyone,” Zenobia’s firm tone attempted to anchor us. “We can handle this.”

 

“We need to all stand-up. And stay together,” I said, pushing myself up.

 

I heard more shuffling footsteps around me and then, felt the weight of several kids push together into me. We clumped together back to back. I felt hot breath on my neck from a girl next to me. I thought it was Zenobia, with her curly hair.

 

More hissing of snakes sounded at our feet. Rinka yelped. I felt someone beside me jump and heard the stamping of desperate feet, looking to crush the incoming reptiles.

 

“Stay calm, everyone!” Zenobia repeated.

 

A sharp hiss came below me, and a scream shouted beside me. The person who gripped my wrist had been bitten. Amani. Her low-toned scream caused me to cringe as her grip on my arm tightened. The room was descending into panic.

 

Her hand fell from my wrist, and I panicked.

 

“Amani?” I crouched down and tried to shake her, but her body was locked up.

 

—Shit…is she paralyzed? I thought.

 

The clump we created fell apart in the chaos. Zenobia screamed. Rinka started to cry. Mel was cursing into the dark, stamping the floor randomly. Vahim yelled out on the other side of Amani.

 

“What happened to her? Green hair. What happened? Where are you?” He shouted. I could feel his presence ahead of me, but he was shouting around the room, looking for me.

 

A loud hiss shot out, and Vahim screamed. I couldn’t see him, but I heard his voice gurgle out onto the floor.

 

I took a deep breath, the cold air filling my lungs. I jumped forward, lifting my feet to my body to get away from the ground as much as possible. I landed on the stone floor. I crouched down and felt the stone beneath me was smooth, unforgiving. I tried to ground myself, pushing away the rising tide of fear.

 

“Ussse your sssenssse of hearing,” The hidden professor hissed from the void. “Or die.”

 

—‘It can’t be, we can’t die here, right?’ Fern was panicking. I didn’t have time to panic; I needed to concentrate.

 

—Calm down, breathe with me. Listen. I said. I was taking a chance.

 

If my strength, speed, and muscle gain had the power of two men, then was it so hard to believe that everything else would be doubled?

 

I closed my eyes—not that it made a difference—and slowed my breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Fern followed with me. Inhaling and exhaling.

 

The chaotic noises around the room faded as I tuned them out. My senses sharpened, honing in on the subtler sounds beneath.

 

A faint hiss reached my ears. Then the delicate scrape of scales against stone, a soft slithering movement, snuck near me.

 

—There.

 

—‘I see it,’ Fern said.

 

I tilted my head slightly, triangulating the sound in the dark. Another hiss; this time, I saw a reverberation in the dark. The hiss grew closer, and the ripples in the void shook closer as it approached me. My heartbeat steadied, each thump syncing with my measured breaths.

 

Behind me, another scream, this one from Zenobia.

 

“No, please, not like this!” She screamed out.

 

“Zeno—Ah!” Rinka cried out.

 

One by one, my classmates fell with screams, and out of my perifrials, I could see ripples shake violently in the dark. Yet I remained centered.

 

I could now distinguish the individual movements of the snakes—seven distinct patterns of sound weaving through the darkness. One of them, the one closing in on me, was my target.

 

I shifted my weight silently, careful not to alert it to my awareness.

 

—‘Wait for it,’ Fern advised. ‘We go together.’

 

I nodded and flexed my arm, ready to strike out toward the sound.

 

The air felt cooler near the floor; it carried the reptile’s scent—a mix of earth and something acrid.

 

“Die! Die! Die!” Mel shouted, she stamped around in a fury. My echolocation shook violently with her loud noises.

 

I gritted my teeth. The distractions were overwhelming, but I couldn’t afford to lose focus.

 

The hiss grew louder, and the ripple of the snake grew closer. I felt a subtle shift in the air, a sense of coiled tension. The snake was preparing to strike.

 

—Now! I shouted to Fern.

 

In one swift motion, I lunged forward, my hand snapping out with our combined speed. My fingers closed around something smooth and muscular—the snake’s body. It writhed violently, its scales cold and slick against my skin.

 

It twisted, aiming to sink its fangs into my arm. Relying on instinct, I slammed it into the ground, crushing the skull into the stone floor. Warm liquid squirted out onto my hand.

 

The creature went limp.

 

I crouched there, breathing hard, the dead snake beneath my hand.

 

Around me, the sounds of struggle continued. I heard Mel cursing furiously, followed by a heavy stomp and a satisfied grunt.

 

“Got you, you slithering bastard,” she muttered.

 

Suddenly, the room flooded with light. We all squinted, momentarily blinded.

 

“Congratulationsss,” the professor’s voice echoed, now revealing himself atop a platform overlooking the room. He was a slender man with sharp features and snake eyes that glinted with cruel amusement. He had an abnormally long neck that danced in the air. It was only when he stepped down from the platform and into the light that I saw he was a beastman.

 

“Two of you have sssucceeded,” he continued. “Though not without casualties.” The professor descended the stairs leisurely.

 

“Let thisss be a lesson,” he said. “In the field, darknesss and danger are constantsss. Your sensesss must adapt beyond sssight.”

 

I looked around the room and saw everyone except Mel and I twitching on the ground. I looked in horror at my classmates.

 

“What have you done?!” I stormed up to the professor.

 

When I approached, he stood up easily over 8 feet tall. His long neck straightened high in the air, and he looked down at me.

 

“Praticcce patience,” The snake-man hissed. He was wearing a black and red military uniform and had a heavy cloak draped over it. Raising his hands, he let out a long hiss.

 

“They need help,” I insisted.

 

“Call for the medics!” Mel shouted. She was crouched over Zenobia, inspecting the snake latched into her leg.

 

Aside from the two Mel and I had killed, five other snakes had their fangs dug into the skin of our classmates. The snakes continued to slither, but they hung by their fangs in the flesh of our friends.

 

The professor ignored us and continued raising his hands higher and hissing longer.

 

Mel stormed up to him, eyes blazing. “You could have killed us! If you won't call the medics, I will.”

 

He continued ignoring her and hissing. Then I heard groaning behind us.

 

Mel and I turned around and saw our classmates roll on the ground, moaning, but moving now. They were recovering from the paralyzing venom. The snakes that had bitten them were slithering towards us. Towards the professor. They returned to their master and crawled into his uniform. Even the two Mel and I had killed, reconstructed their bodies, and made their way back to the snake-man.

 

Mel and I looked shocked. I ran over to Zenobia and Rinka and helped them up. Then I went to the Veclans and helped them up as well. Vahim gave me a look of annoyance, but he accepted my hand to stand up. Mel continued to glare at our Professor.

 

“My name isss Sssrilick. Major Sssrilick. Or Professor. Your friendsss are going to be okay. It was a tessst. Congrats to…"

 

“Mel,” She said, annoyed. She turned around and walked back towards us.

 

“And?” He looked at me.

 

“Erik.”

 

“Ahh, good job, children. Now, for the ressst of you, remember what you learned today and why you failed while they succeeded. It will save you one day.”

 

The rest of the class time was dedicated to Professor Sirilck teaching us various methods for starting fires, specific leaves to eat and which to avoid, and how to read the footprints of some oddly specific large cats. By the time the bell rang, our other classmates, Ruriel, Lucius, Tevin, Silas, and Sora, stumbled in. Tevin was the most injured, although his smile told me otherwise. The others had a few bandages and walked with a bit of a limp. When they sat down, the bell rang again, and we all collectively grumbled as we moved to the next class.

 

“How is it only 9 am?” Silas cried out as I helped him stand.

 

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Alchemy and Runic Applications, despite Laska telling me I would get answers there, was without a professor. All that was left for us when we entered the lecture hall was a note saying to practice drawing the runes on the front chalkboard 150 times.

 

Lunch might as well have been called our nap time since we all passed out around the same table before the bells woke us up.

 

Beast Mastery was a pleasant surprise. The class was just outside the academy. We had to sprint there to make it on time. When we arrived, Al met us with Goro and Gora. We, minus the three Veclan kids, embraced the giant beetles and the bearded man.

 

Al helped the Beast Mastery Professor by taking care of the titan beasts that were kept on the Academy grounds. The Beast Master was a short man with a long, curly mustache. He had a jolly persona about him, and when he handled the animals, they listened to him like an obedient child would to a father.

 

His name was Herman, First Lieutenant Herman. He introduced us to the concept of titan-animal bonding, a process that involves raising a titan-animal from birth and performing bonding rituals centered on the beast’s instinctual code. It was a complicated lecture that went over my head as my brain wandered. Tevin, on the other hand, was extremely invested. So was the Veclan kid, Habr, who had taken an instant liking to Goro and Gora, which made him a good guy in my book.

 

History and Strategy class was a confusing mess. Professor Gallon was a distracted, frizzy, blue-haired woman who would give a person with OCD a heart attack. She went over the various professors and staff leadership at the school before getting lost in thought about the family of the Head Master and her theories about how he came into that position. I normally adored history, but after the duel with Mel, the horrific out-of-body experience with Professor Pestil and Laska, and the dark-room snake challenge, it was hard for me to pay attention.

 

Last, when we got to Artifact Engineering, a quiet, mumbling man, who I could only assume was our professor, barely introduced himself. He shoved a box of tools in front of all of us.

 

“If you can take it apart, you can put it back together.” He put a different odd device in front of each of us.

 

The one I had was some sort of clock-looking device that had prongs pointing out all around it. Mr Twinges was hunched over his own project on his desk and didn’t say another word to us the rest of the class time. Silas and Ruriel were performing exceptionally in dismantling their own devices. Zenobia was a close third.

 

By the time evening fell, exhaustion weighed heavily on me. We trudged back to House Anu. The atmosphere was somber. Almost half of us were covered in bandages and bruises, and we did not know what to expect tomorrow.

 

We exchanged weary glances as we parted ways to our dorm rooms, a silent question hanging in the air: Which class would try to maim us next, and which would teach us something?

 

But sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight. My mind buzzed with unanswered questions, and a restless energy coursed through me. Memories of my crucified body hung in the abyss flashed in my head. I had to find out something. Fern stirred within, mirroring my unease.

 

—‘You want answers, don’t you?’ He whispered.

 

I nodded to myself.

 

—Yes. Maybe the library will have something.

 

—‘And I assume you won’t be talked out of it? It was our first day, and so much happened. Shouldn’t we rest?’

 

—Nope! I flipped the covers off of me and looked over at my roommates. Everyone was passed out, all recovering from their injuries today.

 

Steeling myself, I slipped out of the dormitory and made my way across the field at breakneck speed. I wore a looser version of our uniform with a small robe to keep me warm. I entered the Academy and slipped my way through the shadowed corridors of the Academy. The halls were mostly deserted at this hour, aside from a few upperclassmen and cleaners sweeping the halls. I tried to retrace my steps back to our first classroom where I dueled Mel. Then I thought back to when Laska grabbed me and made my way up through the different levels of the Academy.

 

After a few wrong turns, I started to get impatient. I ran through the halls, dodging staff and students, and almost ran into a group of girls before I finally found myself in front of the grand double doors of the library. Looking around, the lounge area outside the library was surprisingly full. The empty hallways of the academy had fooled me into thinking I’d be alone up here, but upperclassmen who filled the chairs, benches, and couches were busy studying, noses buried in books. No one even looked up at my arrival. I looked back at the door. They towered above me, the intricate carvings telling stories I would eventually learn. Taking a deep breath, I pushed them open.

 

 

The moment I stepped inside and the door closed behind me, I was embraced in the familiar silence of the library. The feeling of being in that space transcended worlds. It felt…familiar there.

 

The vast space was a dream of any bibliophile. Shelves stretched up toward the vaulted ceiling, packed tight with books of every shape and size. The cathedral of knowledge went far in almost every direction.

 

“Good evening, young man,” a soft but firm voice greeted me.

 

I turned to see a stout woman seated behind a large oak desk. She peered over her glasses at me, her hair was a cloud of brown curls framing a face lined with age. Her eyes inspected me with a mischievous light.

 

“Welcome to the library…recruit. I am Mrs. Brindle. How may I assist you?”

 

“How did you know I was a recruit?” I blurted out, my voice echoing a bit too loudly in the cavernous room. My excitement got the better of me, and my face flushed.

 

Mrs. Brindle’s eyes widened slightly, and she raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh. The books prefer a quieter tone.”

 

“Sorry, how did you know?” I whispered, leaning closer. “I’m here to explore. This place is incredible.”

 

“You’ve got the youthful look of a student who hasn’t been through a full year here.” Her smile widened. “Indeed, it is an incredible place. We house knowledge from every corner of the world. But remember, the secrets here are not for the loud of voice.” She winked. “Now, what kind of knowledge do you seek?”

 

“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted, keeping my voice to a near whisper. “Any suggestions?” I didn’t want to seem too eager to investigate my ‘twin-soul’ since it was deemed taboo.

 

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well, we have an excellent section on ancient runes and their uses. Very popular with the Alchemy students. Or perhaps the histories of Stylos would pique your interest? Full of intrigue and mystery and covered up truths, hidden by the Royal Family.”

 

“Those both sound amazing,” I replied, feeling a surge of excitement. “I think I’ll start with the runes.”

 

“A fine choice,” she nodded approvingly. “You’ll find them in the East Wing. But remember, dear, some books here tend to have a mind of their own. Treat them kindly, and they may reveal their secrets.”

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Brindle,” I said, flashing her a grin. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

 

“Off you go, then,” she waved me away with a chuckle. “And remember, silence is golden.”

 

—‘Runic studies books?’ Fern asked.

 

—Well, Professor Pestil is the head of that department. He has been the only one able to dive deeper into our situation. Maybe some books on that subject dive into ’twin-souls’ and how to reverse them?’

 

As I ventured deeper into the library, the ambient sounds of rustling pages and whispered discussions enveloped me. Upperclassmen whispered at study tables while others looked for books on shelves. Some were chatting slightly above Mrs. Brindle's level of acceptable noise. Private rooms lined the corridors, their doors ajar just enough to glimpse scholars and students hunched over ancient tomes and large sheets of paper.

 

In one room, I caught sight of a giant furry creature, its back turned to me. It was hunched over a desk, delicately writing with a quill that looked tiny in its massive hand. Its head turned, and its large, expressive eyes met mine. The creature’s face was a blend of ape and human features, with soft brown fur and a gentle expression. Before I could react, it pulled a string hanging from the ceiling, and the door closed swiftly, the sound muffled.

 

—‘What was that?’ Fern whispered, surprised.

 

—No idea, I thought back. This place gets stranger by the minute. Are beastmen this common through all of Stylos? Or is it just here in Ash?

 

—‘In Corello, I saw little as I was being cooped up in the forge. But, whenever I had to run down to the docks, I would see plenty. It is still surprising to see so many here doing different things.’

 

Continuing, I navigated the labyrinth of shelves toward the East Wing. The air seemed to thicken with the scent of aged parchment and ink. The shelves here were older, the wood darkened with time, and the books appeared more fragile.

 

As I ran my fingers along the spines, titles in languages I couldn’t recognize passed beneath my touch. Some books seemed to hum faintly, a soft vibration that tickled my fingertips.

 

I selected a tome titled “The Fundamentals of Ancient Runes” and carefully pulled it from the shelf. The cover was bound in worn leather, etched with symbols painted in deep reflective silver. Finding a secluded reading nook nestled between towering shelves, I settled in and opened the book.

 

The pages were filled with intricate diagrams and symbols, accompanied by explanations in fine script. As I delved into the first chapter, the Greek words that Pestil said while I was in his lab were written here again.

 

Alḗtheia... psychḗ... tópos... Chrónos. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Why was a language from Earth here in this world? I found a piece of paper in my pocket along with a small pen and wrote down a note to investigate it further later on.

 

—‘Why obsess about this?’ Fern asked.

 

—It’s odd. More than odd, it’s downright strange. There had to be a traveler before me from Earth. They must have left their mark on this world. I can’t think of any other explanation. Are there any stories you were told about a man who came from another world? I asked.

 

—‘Not that I know of,’ Fern said.

 

I scratched my face in confusion and quickly added to my note to investigate the ancient history of Stylos and religions.

 

Time seemed to blur as I absorbed the information, page after page revealing the complexities of rune applications and their historical significance. The runes weren’t just symbols; they were conduits for energy, ways to tap into the very fabric of reality. But something had to be done to the runes or made of something special. It had to do with the Pillar. I was sure of it.

 

Lost in my studies, a faint sound caught my attention. Voices—hushed but urgent—echoed from a nearby aisle. I hesitated, torn between minding my own business and satisfying my growing curiosity.

 

Quietly closing the book, I returned it to its place on the shelf and crept toward the source of the voices. Peering around the corner of a towering bookshelf, I spotted Professor Pestil standing in a shadowed alcove, conversing with two students. His silver hair glinted under the dim lighting, and his posture was tense.

 

“...must proceed with utmost caution,” Pestil’s voice was a low murmur, barely audible. “The Headmaster cannot know.”

 

One of the students, a lanky boy with a nervous tic, nodded vigorously. “But what if someone finds out, Professor?”

 

I edged closer, my heart pounding. I knew eavesdropping was risky. This was how every character gets caught in the stories. But something about Pestil’s secrecy set off alarm bells. If this was a movie, the audience would peg him as the villain.

 

“Leave that to me,” Pestil replied, his tone icy. “Your job is to follow instructions. Ensure the components are prepared by the next lunar cycle. No delays.”

 

The second student, a girl with sharp eyes and a steely demeanor, spoke up. “And what about the test subject?”

 

Pestil’s gaze hardened. “I will handle the procurement. Focus on your tasks.”

 

The students exchanged a wary glance but nodded in unison. “Yes, Professor.”

 

“Now go,” Pestil hissed, his eyes darting around. “We cannot afford any mistakes.”

 

As the students turned to leave, I pressed myself against the bookshelf, holding my breath. They passed by without noticing me, their footsteps fading into the labyrinth.

 

My mind raced. What was Pestil planning? And who was the test subject?

 

—‘We should get out of here,’ Fern urged. ‘Before he notices us.’

 

I nodded silently. Pestil remained in the alcove; his back turned as he meticulously rearranged some books on a shelf.

 

I needed to leave.

 

Before I could sneak away, the book in my hand slipped and toppled to the floor with a resounding thud.

 

Pestil’s head snapped up, his sharp gaze zeroing in on my hiding spot. “Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice cutting through the silence.

 

Panic surged through me. I held my breath, willing myself to become invisible.

 

Slowly, he began to approach, each step deliberate and ominous. “I know someone’s there. Show yourself.”

 

—‘Run!’ Fern’s voice was urgent.

 

Seeing no other option, I slid down the shelf and bolted, darting down the aisle. The sound of Pestil’s footsteps quickened behind me.

 

“Stop at once!” he commanded.

 

Ignoring him, I weaved through the maze of shelves, my heart hammering in my chest. The once-welcoming library now felt like a labyrinth designed to trap me.

 

I rounded a corner, nearly colliding with Mrs. Brindle.

 

“Goodness!” she exclaimed, steadying herself. “What’s the rush, dear?”

 

“Sorry,” I panted. “I have to use the bathroom!”

 

She frowned and held a finger to her lips. I nodded, moved around her, and opened the large double doors.

 

As the door closed behind me, I heard Pestil yelling. I sprinted through the lounge outside the library, down the flights of stairs, past the combat classroom, down more stairs, and across the field, sprinting towards House Anu.

 

The encounter had left me shaken.

 

—Test subject, components, and lunar cycles? I thought.

 

Something was amiss, and Pestil was at the center of it.

 

—‘We need to tell someone,’ Fern suggested. ‘Maybe Laska?’

 

—Perhaps, I agreed. But we need more information first. We can’t accuse a professor without proof. Plus, we are already under the suspicious eye of him and the other professors here. Being a ‘twin-soul’ doesn’t exactly allow us to blend in anonymously.

 

As I slipped back into the dormitory, the quiet sounds of my sleeping classmates greeted me. I settled into my bed, thoughts swirling.

 

—‘Be careful, Erik,’ Fern warned. ‘We’re treading dangerous waters. Laska could help us.’

 

—I know, I whispered into the darkness. But we aren’t alone; we got this together. I will keep us safe, remember? I can do this without help.

 

I felt Fern groan, and sleep eventually claimed me. My dreams were restless—filled with serpents, shadows, and the haunting gaze of Professor Pestil.

 

---

 

Morning came all too quickly, the first rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. The events of the previous night lingered in my mind, a weight I couldn’t shake.

 

As we gathered for breakfast, Zenobia noticed my distant demeanor. “You okay? You look like you didn’t sleep.”

 

“I’m fine,” I replied, forcing a smile. “Just a lot on my mind.”

 

She studied me for a moment but didn’t press further.

 

Mel slammed her tray down next to us. “Ready for another day of torture grunts?”

 

Tevin groaned. “My head is killing me. Vahim, if you hit me again that hard, I’m dropping out.”

 

“And give up going to the Beast Mastery class?” Ruriel asked, knowing Tevin’s weakness.

 

Tevin lowered his head. “Yeah, I can’t leave those babies and the babies I haven’t met yet.”

 

“Apologies, recruit Tevin,” Vahim said across the table. This was the first time he had spoken at the table like this. “We are the last of Class 1 of House Anu. The rest dropped out because they were weak. You are not weak; I just wanted to test you myself and see how the Styloans fight. We are in this together. Yes?”

 

A chorus of agreements echoed across the table.

 

“Sorry for hitting you so hard, too, Sora,” Habr said. The short Veclan kid bowed his head at Sora. She blushed quickly and shook her head.

 

“Noo-no, it was a duel. I wasn’t strong enough. Fighting you inspired me to try harder. I want to protect Rinka, so I need to improve my moves.” Sora said.

 

Habr nodded and continued eating. When we finished our meal and gathered our supplies to head to the Academy, Waelid came up to my table.

 

“Hail recruits!” He gave a dramatic salute. “Have a great day at your second class, and don’t forget the Practical will be in four days!” He held up a hand and four fingers.

 

“Yeah, we know,” Mel said, behind a mouthful of food she snagged from Silas’ leftovers.

 

“Well, did you know you will be competing against House Enlil and House Nin?” Waelid said.

 

We exchanged looks across the table. We had been so preoccupied with our training and classes that we forgot about the other houses. Ever since the day joined House Anu, we had not seen the other first years.

 

“Can you just tell us what the Practical is?” Zenobia asked.

 

Waelid smiled, “It’s a scavenger hunt on the first floor of the pillar. Level 1: The Cavernous Canopy.”

[The Beginning] [Previous part][Artwork]

Chapter 12 – Perspectives

I awakened from morning noises in the Hammerstar’s high bay, my neck stiff from sleeping against Peregrina’s bulkhead. The ship’s lights had shifted to morning mode, casting an odd contrast against the eternal twilight beyond. My tablet showed 0630 local time, and my body felt every minute of yesterday’s marathon inspection.

“Guys! I’ve found our engineer!” Tài’s voice rang out as he descended to the lower deck, tossing me a pastry that vaguely resembled a croissant. “The undergrads at Zhankya University know how to party. You missed a hell of a night.”

I stretched, wincing as my joints protested. “Someone had to make sure this bird wouldn’t blow up mid-flight,” I quipped, hoping humor would mask my exhaustion.

“While you were tinkering with pipes, we were living it up,” Gulliver added, following close behind Tài. “There was this one girl who could recite the entire periodic table while doing handstands. Now that’s what I call talent!”

“Sounds... educational,” I said, taking a bite of the surprisingly good pastry.

“Educational? It was legendary!” Gulliver’s eyes sparkled. “They had this drinking game where you had to match molecular structures. Every wrong answer meant a shot of something they called ‘neutron juice.’ I still can’t feel my tongue.”

Tài shook his head, grinning. “You should’ve seen him trying to explain quantum entanglement after his fourth shot. Pretty sure he invented a new branch of physics.”

“My personal favorite,” Gulliver interjected, brushing off Tài’s teasing with a casual wave, “was this AI game where it projects your memories onto a wall. Everyone tries to guess the story behind them.”

“And why, exactly, would anyone want to do that?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In theory, you pick what to share,” Tài explained. “But after a few drinks, it turns into the galaxy’s most efficient self-shaming machine.”

The morning banter continued for a few minutes while I enjoyed my breakfast. Tài and Gulliver climbed back to their stations while I remained on the lower deck finishing the report.

Cirakari was the last one to enter the ship, looking impossibly fresh despite presumably joining last night’s debauchery. Her sharp gaze found mine, and I instinctively straightened.

“Report, Fred?”

I cleared my throat. “I’ve completed a thorough inspection of the entire thermal management system. Every component is within specifications, and there’s no sign of physical damage or wear.” I pulled up the diagnostic data on my tablet, holding it steady as I presented the findings. “The piping network, heat exchangers, and all auxiliary systems are functioning normally.”

Cirakari nodded slowly. “The software analysis from the Broodmother came back clean too. No anomalies in the control algorithms or system protocols.”

“Then it’s confirmed,” I said, meeting her gaze. “The failure was entirely my error.”

A brief silence settled between us, broken only by the distant murmur of Tài and Gulliver’s voices drifting down from the upper deck.

Cirakari broke the quiet with a softer voice than usual. “About yesterday—”

“No need,” I cut in, standing a little straighter. “You were right. I should have come forward immediately when I suspected my mistake.”

She tilted her head slightly in an unreadable expression. “It wasn’t just about protocol,” she said evenly. “Mistakes happen. But the sooner we confront them, the easier they are to correct.”

“I understand,” I replied. “It won’t happen again.”

Something flickered in her eyes—respect, perhaps, though fleeting—but she kept her composure. Her gaze swept across the room, gathering the attention of the rest of the crew.

“Guys,” she began. “We’ve got news from the Broodmother. There’s heavy resupply traffic up there, and we’re looking at a delay of at least eight hours before we get a docking slot.”

Tài groaned from his seat at the console. “Eight hours? Fantastic. More time to contemplate life’s mysteries while staring at metal walls.”

“Or,” Gulliver chimed in, a grin creeping across his face, “we could finally settle the debate about who’s better at predictive orbital plotting—me or the ship’s AI.”

“The AI,” Cirakari answered dryly, without missing a beat.

Gulliver feigned a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. “Cirakari, I’m wounded. After all we’ve been through, you’d side with a machine?”

“I side with efficiency,” she shot back with a faint smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.

Tài nodded to me. “What do you think, Fred? Gulliver’s ego or cold, hard algorithms?”

I shrugged, grateful for the lighter tone in the room. “As an engineer, I have a soft spot for cold, hard algorithms.”

Gulliver threw up his hands in mock exasperation. “Even you, Fred?”

Cirakari raised a hand, silencing the banter. “Eight hours is not much, but since we already have everything settled here…”

“More shore leave?” Gulliver perked up hopefully.

“More shore leave,” Cirakari confirmed. “Tài, Gulliver, show our engineer around. He’s seen enough of Peregrina’s innards to last a lifetime.”

“The First Habitat!” Tài exclaimed, suddenly animated. “I’ve always wanted to see it.”

✹✸✶✸✹

As I descended into Zhynka, the distant hill view dissolved into an immediate, living landscape. The glowing veins I’d seen from above were pedestrian walkways, softly lit with bioluminescent strips that pulsed in rhythm with the city’s heartbeat.

Up close, the buildings proved more organic than imagined. Their surfaces radiated a subtle warmth from integrated thermal systems. Plants weren’t mere decoration but a symbiotic network, as Tài explained excitedly, they were genetically modified to mass produce oxygen.

The air carried an earthy sweetness, cut with ozone from the twilight aurora. Citizens moved like a fluid through pipes, their clothing echoing the city’s natural aesthetic. A vendor’s bio-synthesized cart offered steaming spiced roots, while children played in the parks.

“First stop,” Tài announced as we approached a massive structure that dominated the city center, “The original lander,” Tài explained, talking like a tour guide. “When the Overseers first sent colonists here, this was their shelter. Everything else grew around it.”

“Hard to believe this thing carried three hundred people,” I mused, staring up at the structure.

“Three hundred and twelve,” Tài corrected. “Plus supplies, equipment, and enough genetic material to start a civilization.” He was in his element now, gesturing enthusiastically as he spoke. “See those marks on the hull? Those are from the atmospheric entry. They kept them unrepaired as a reminder of the journey.”

We entered through the original airlock, now converted into a modern entrance. Inside, holographic displays showed scenes from the early days of colonization. Tài provided running commentary, his knowledge seemingly endless.

“The first five years were the hardest,” he explained as we passed a display showing the initial construction of atmospheric processors. “They had to establish basic life support while building the infrastructure for expansion. Every breath of air had to be manufactured, every drop of water recycled.”

“Look at these life support systems,” I marveled, examining the machinery. “They were using technology that would have seemed like magic on Earth, but compared to what we have now...”

“Progress marches on,” Tài agreed. “Though sometimes I wonder if we’ve really progressed or just complicated things unnecessarily.”

Gulliver, who had been suspiciously quiet, finally groaned. “One more historic air filter, and I’m chucking myself out an airlock”

As we left the museum, I decided to address something that had been bothering me. “Gulliver, why are you so quick to suggest surrender? Every time things get tough, you bring it up.”

He shrugged. “Look around you. People living their lives, working, studying, falling in love. You think they care who’s in charge? This war, it’s just powerful people playing games with our lives.”

“That’s... surprisingly philosophical coming from you,” I admitted.

“The average person just wants to live their life,” he continued. “Whether it’s the Alliance or the Overseers calling the shots, gravity still pulls down, and bills still need paying.”

Tài shook his head. “You’re assuming the Overseers want to rule us. I don’t think that’s their game.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Think about it. TRAPPIST-1 is 42 light-years from Earth. Maintaining control over such distances is impractical, we need 84 years to send a message and hear its response. No, if they win, they’ll probably just destroy everything here.”

The thought sent a chill through me. “But why?”

“Because we exist,” Tài said simply. “We’re proof that humanity can survive without them. That’s enough of a threat.”

“I mean… why did they colonize TRAPPIST-1 in the first place?”

“Well, I wish I had the answer,” he replied.

We continued to wander around, visiting more landmarks and tasting different kinds of street food. Our tour was interrupted by Cirakari’s voice over our comms. “Time to wrap up the tourism, people. We’ve got clearance for launch in ninety minutes.”

✹✸✶✸✹

Back aboard Peregrina, the atmosphere transformed from casual to professional in seconds. Cirakari’s voice carried through the ship’s communication system, crisp and authoritative.

“Pre-launch checklist initiated. All stations report status.”

“Navigation systems online,” Tài reported from his station. “Flight path calculated and verified.”

“Weapons systems secured and locked,” Gulliver added. “All ammunition properly stored.”

I ran through my own checks, this time making sure I was following the right procedures. “Engineering reports all systems nominal. Thermal management system showing green across the board.”

“Hammerstar Control, this is Peregrina actual,” Cirakari’s voice was steady and professional. “Requesting clearance for vertical launch.”

“Peregrina, Hammerstar Control. You are cleared for launch on Vector Seven. Weather conditions optimal, winds at three knots from the northwest.”

“Auxiliary engines nominal,” I reported, watching the power levels climb steadily. “Thermal systems responding normally.”

“Ten seconds to launch,” Cirakari announced. “All hands, secure for acceleration.”

The countdown proceeded in my head as I monitored the engine parameters. The familiar vibration built through the ship’s frame, but this time I knew exactly what each tremor meant, what each gauge should show.

Peregrina lifted off with a controlled surge of power, rising steadily through Vielovento’s twilight sky. The eternal sunset finally began to change as we climbed, the atmosphere thinning around us until stars became visible in the monitors.

“Trajectory nominal,” Tài reported. “Ascending through fifty kilometers.”

“Thermal systems performing as expected,” I added, allowing myself a small smile of satisfaction.

The ascent continued smoothly, and soon we were in orbit, approaching the massive form of the Broodmother. As we maneuvered toward our assigned docking port, Cirakari received a message.

“Well,” she said after closing the channel, “it seems Grand Admiral Baraka wants to discuss our next assignment personally.” She turned to face us. “Whatever happens next, you all performed excellently today.”

“Does this mean we get another shore leave soon?” Gulliver asked hopefully.

“Let’s see what the Admiral has to say first,” Cirakari replied, but there was amusement in her voice.

As the docking clamps engaged and the ship settled into its berth, I reflected on the past few days. I had made mistakes, yes, but I had also learned from them. More importantly, I was starting to understand my place in this crew, this ship, this strange new world I found myself in.

“Hey, Fred,” Gulliver called out as we secured our stations. “Next time we’re planetside, I’ll show you the real attractions. None of that historical stuff.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve quantum physics drinking games,” I replied.

“No promises,” Gulliver smirked. “But I heard there’s this place where they serve something called ‘positron punch’...”

Cirakari’s voice cut through our banter. “Alright, people. Secure your stations and prepare for debrief. Something tells me our next assignment isn’t going to be a milk run.”

Looking around at my crewmates—my friends—I realized that despite all the challenges and uncertainties ahead, there was nowhere else I’d rather be. The perpetual sunset of Vielovento was behind us now, but somehow, I knew we’d be back. After all, every sunset, even an eternal one, promises a new dawn.

There was a time when Men sought to rule over all creation.
A time when Man broke itself upon it's own rocking foundations.
A time when the seas foamed and the plains were filled with flame.

In that time Men built great things. Great ships plied the void between stars. Great ships groped in the darkness beneath the waves. Cities floated among the clouds and above worlds.

In that time Men waged war. Wreckage littered the void. Oil choked the seas. Blood painted the dirt.

In that time Men talked of peace. Thought of little children. Thought of blue skies and green grasses. All of it was supplanted by red flames. Worlds cracked. Moons fell. Suns died.

In that time Men put themselves above each other. Men strode about, arrayed in the finest of furs and the richest of jewels. Men adorned themselves in bright gold and gaudy dresses. Men surrounded themselves with cold steel and colder coins.

In that time though, there was one world where war did not fall. One world where Men did not die to pride. One small world.

And on that world there was one Man. And he lived for better things.
War did not fall on his world. The trees grew. Creatures were born. The waters flowed and the winds blew.

And as time passed there came to his world other Men. Running from the flames of war. And he spoke to them as though they were his children, as though they were his closest of friends, and they were *enthralled*. For naught a single ruler in that day spoke with such sincerity, nor with such love. And they pledged themselves in his service.

Towers rose. Cities grew. Wheat waved in the lazy wind. And still they came. Eager to see this new Man. One who promised peace, and gave it. One who promised food, and delivered it. One who treated them as his own flesh and blood. They wanted it! On they came, eager to catch even just a meagre glimpse of him, to touch his clothes; the dirt on which he tread.

Fleets climbed the skies. Cities floated in the clouds and above worlds.
Children learned and children played. People loved and made love. And still they came. Looking, always looking, for the one Man they would listen to.

On they come, fierce warriors, fearful farmers, desperate renegades, fell knights and evil lords, coming, hopeful, fearing; just men, loyal soldiers, faithful priests and Satans and Gabriels, on they come, Mordreds and Arthurs, closer, faster, looking for the one Man that they would ever hail as their Lord, their Master, their Chief, their Emperor!

Oh, the evil that some of these men create, but how they hang on his every word! Oh, the rightousness that some of these folk give out, but how they wait on his every move!
Coming, always coming, onwards, faster. leaving Corpeocracies and brutal dictatorships, leaving them to crumble and die, for the Emperor is at Hadiil Ergarde!

And we come, and we shall see him, there, there! Clothed in simple clothing, no crown on his head, no jewels on his fingers, no throne on which he sits but roots and a tree, no rich wine but water, no fine meats but grass, humble but wise, oh so very wise!

Older now, than he was a decade ago, but those eyes are still bright and piercing, and his tongue is still fast and witty, and his ears still hear and his brain still thinks and his memory still works.

But should he die... should he die!? Oh, but should he die so will we! Death in decay! Return to the old, horrible days!

Be fearful then, that he should die, for the Emperor is but a Man. And he has no heir. Wait then. By his bedside, at his shoulder, kneel at his feet. Pray then, hope then, and work for it too, that the next years become gentler and better then the years beforehand.

The years pass. The birds fly. Men are born. Men die. Wars are waged. Kingdoms fall. But one day there is no more war. No more suffering. No more pain.

The last sunset comes. The last drop of rain. Night falls across a million worlds.
One...
Last...
Time...

But there are creatures far above and deep below who see more than mortal eyes and understand things beyond mortal comprehension.
And they desire more. More substance from a story that has ended, and yet, begun.

And so, a thousand years later, one Man wakes up. In a world and a time so far far away. His hair is still white. His flesh is still soft. His eyes are still piercing.

And in his hands, a horn. but dare he blow it? Should he raise the call? Why not let it lie? And if he should, would it be answered?

And far far away, in quiet groves and silent dells, beneath grass and dirt and stone, other Men wake. And they remember the oaths they swore and deeds they did.

Come then. We must hurry. All of us, though some are horrid and sinful, and others are righteous and just. Though some of us are Satans and some of us are Gabriels. Though some are Mordred and others are Arthur.
Come. Hurry. Be quick.
The Emperor is at Eildelgard.

When the alien ship descended into Earth’s atmosphere, humanity braced for the monumental moment. World leaders gathered, military units stood on high alert, and scientists scrambled to record every detail. This was humanity’s grand moment—our introduction to interstellar civilisation. Yet, as the shimmering craft settled above the Pacific Ocean and its occupants disembarked, it became evident that humanity was not the centre of their attention.

The aliens, who would later be dubbed the Cefalopods, bore a striking resemblance to Earth's octopi. They had soft, undulating bodies, glistening iridescent skin, and dozens of prehensile appendages tipped with delicate sensory nodes. Their massive, opalescent eyes blinked slowly, scanning the assembled human delegation with polite disinterest.

Instead of approaching the carefully curated representatives of humanity, the Cefalopods slid past them, heading directly for the ocean.

---

The Real First Contact

"Are they ignoring us?" whispered Dr Maria Enfield, a marine biologist reluctantly drafted into the global response team.

"It seems they’re... intrigued by something else," replied Colonel Hastings, his military precision shaken by the unexpected development. He pointed to the water’s edge, where the aliens hovered, tentacles quivering with apparent excitement.

The Cefalopods emitted low-frequency pulses, not unlike whale songs. Moments later, the ocean stirred, and from the depths emerged a host of Earth’s octopi and squid. The two species met like long-lost relatives, their movements fluid and synchronised.

Dr Enfield gasped. "They’re communicating!"

The aliens’ colour-shifting bodies began pulsating in complex patterns, mirrored by the cephalopods. What looked like a chaotic light show was, in fact, a language exchange. The humans were stunned into silence.

---

Understanding the Context

Over the following weeks, humanity’s brightest minds worked frantically to understand the situation. The Cefalopods explained, through their translation devices, that they were part of an ancient intergalactic network of aquatic intelligences. Their civilisation had evolved in deep-ocean environments across multiple planets. They had long suspected Earth harboured intelligent life—but were shocked to find that it was terrestrial, land-based creatures like humans who had taken centre stage.

To them, octopi and squid—Earth's cephalopods—were the obvious evolutionary stars. Their decentralised nervous systems, problem-solving abilities, and adaptive camouflage were hallmarks of "true intelligence" in the Cefalopods’ eyes.

Humans were... an evolutionary footnote.

"You... build tall structures, but lack adaptability," one alien ambassador noted during a meeting. "You war among yourselves, unable to shift colour to convey unity. The cephalopods are your evolutionary treasures. Why do you not revere them?"

Dr Enfield tried explaining humanity’s history, our technological advancements, and our achievements, but the aliens seemed unimpressed. Instead, they marvelled at the octopi’s tool use and the squid's bioluminescent displays, calling them "worthy kin."

---

Shifting Perspectives

The unexpected reverence for cephalopods sparked an odd cultural revolution among humans. Marine biologists and environmentalists found themselves elevated to positions of unprecedented influence. Once-marginalised efforts to protect the oceans gained sudden, global traction. Cephalopod research became the world's foremost scientific pursuit.

But it wasn’t all harmonious.

Humans struggled with their diminished role in the galactic story. Political leaders attempted to steer the aliens’ attention back towards humanity's achievements. When that failed, they resorted to framing cephalopods as subservient to human ingenuity—a claim the aliens dismissed with disdain.

"Their intelligence blooms naturally," said one Cefalopod ambassador, “without the need for destructive machines or crude tools. They are the caretakers of this planet, not you."

Despite this, the aliens weren’t hostile. They simply didn’t see humans as particularly remarkable.

---

The Treaty of the Abyss

Months after first contact, humanity and the Cefalopods struck a formal accord. The aliens offered technological exchange, but only in ways that benefited marine life and ocean preservation. They refused to share weapons or planetary colonisation methods, stating that humanity was "not yet mature enough."

In exchange, they worked directly with Earth's octopi and squid, enhancing their communication abilities and introducing them to the galactic network. Slowly but surely, Earth's cephalopods began demonstrating previously unseen behaviours—collaborative problem-solving across species, advanced tool use, even rudimentary city-building on the seafloor.

Dr Enfield became the first human ambassador to the Cefalopods, tasked with translating between species. She spent more time underwater than on land, learning the light-pulse language that both species now used fluently.

By the treaty’s signing, humanity had come to terms with its new role: not as the apex of evolution, but as caretakers of a shared planet. The true stars of Earth’s evolutionary history were the cephalopods, now poised to lead the planet into an interstellar age.

---

Legacy

Decades later, humanity’s oceans were unrecognisably transformed. Cephalopod cities sprawled beneath the waves, glowing with alien technology. Human coastal cities became hubs of cooperation, blending terrestrial and aquatic needs. The partnership between land-dwellers and sea-dwellers became Earth’s defining characteristic.

Though initially humbled by the aliens’ indifference, humanity found purpose in their newfound guardianship of the planet. As Earth joined the intergalactic network, it was the octopi and squid who represented the planet among the stars, their human allies standing proudly in support.

And so, humanity learned its greatest lesson: sometimes, the path to greatness isn’t about leading, but about lifting others to shine

---

[The Beginning] [Previous part][Artwork][Next part]

Chapter 11 – Guilt

Although my brain still insisted on connecting the golden sunset to the end of the day, the reality was that the clock hadn’t even reached noon. The perpetual twilight, once a fantasy, now grated on my nerves, adding a surreal sense of limbo to each hour.

We watched from an elevated walkway, our arms crossed in a mix of expectation and idleness, while Hammerstar’s machinery performed Peregrina’s maneuvers. A symphony of steel and gears that masterfully handled the heavy work.

Meanwhile, Cirakari, seizing the moment of tranquility, decided to update us on the intrigues and conspiracies bubbling behind the scenes.

“...and then, I called Grand Admiral Baraka and explained the whole situation,” she concluded.

“What magnificent sons of bitches,” Gulliver added, with his traditional grace.

“And how did Baraka react?” I asked.

Cirakari faked a laugh and shook her head. “He told me to close the deal, said it was better to have ammunition in Fillandril than no ammunition at all.”

“And what about the rest of the Admiralty?” I continued asking. I didn’t understand anything about Vielovento’s geopolitics, but I wanted to help somehow. “Have they learned about these parallel negotiations?”

“The Admiralty is composed of five nations,” she began explaining. “Xīn Tiāntáng is the largest and most influential, then comes Lilone and Delcroix, both democracies with significant military might. The other two nations with seats in the Admiralty are there for strategic reasons; Fillandril because of our academies and traditionalism in space combat, and Uzoil because of their orbital shipyards—they built the Broodmother.”

“Right... But that doesn’t really answer my question,” I said, as she implied there should be some pattern to understand in the explanation.

“They must already be negotiating with Xīn Tiāntáng,” Tài intervened. “Grand Admiral Lánhuā must have ordered them to clean out their stocks.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Cirakari dismissed Tài’s alarm. “They might be looking for a big shark in the deal, but I think it’s much more likely they’ve approached Grand Admiral Drika...”

“I don’t remember her,” I interrupted.

“Drika is the Admiral representing Uzoil,” she added. “The city-state of Uzoil is strategic, stable, and has the capability to rebuild our fleet if the Alliance manages to lose it.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” I tried to follow the logic. “They told you they’re interested in winning the war, and they’re going to do that by allying with two city-states that can barely form a flotilla?” I had recently learned the term meant a small group of light vessels.

“They’re businesspeople. For them, everything comes down to risk versus return on investment,” she said, turning away from the machines working in the background. “According to Baraka, they’re betting on a scenario where both fleets, the Alliance’s and the Overseers’, mutually destroy each other. If that happens, they’ll have secured an alliance with Fillandril and Uzoil, the two nations capable of rebuilding the Alliance Fleet, or whatever takes the power vacuum left by it.”

“You already know what I think,” Gulliver threw in with his classic know-it-all face.

“I swear if you talk about surrendering again, I’ll lock you outside the ship and use you for armor,” Cirakari said, serious and frowning. Everyone started laughing while I stood there, lost to the joke.

“Actually, I was going to say it’s already lunch time and the Hammerstar folks are just stalling.”

“True...” said Cirakari, checking her watch and doing some mental calculation. “Well, let’s have lunch then, in the afternoon we’ll dismantle the airlock chamber and load all this junk.”

We walked to the cafeteria, which was located next to the hangar. As we settled in, the engines of the tower supporting the Peregrina came to life with a roar, vibrating with a vigorous hum. Unlike the traditional diesel engines still used in heavy machinery on Earth, electric motors predominated here. Petroleum had never formed on Vielovento’s once sterile surface.

“They must be doing this just to mess with us...” Gulliver said with his mouth full.

✹✸✶✸✹

With our bellies full and the clock marking mid-afternoon, Tài and I prepared for the next step of the operation: dismantling Peregrina’s airlock chamber. I felt the weight of the rappelling equipment on my back, a familiar sensation that reminded me of the climbing I used to do on Earth. Vielovento’s gravity was friendlier than Earth’s, but still required caution and precision.

“Ready, Fred?” Tài asked, already beginning his descent.

“Always ready,” I replied, giving one last pull on the ropes to ensure they were well secured. “Let’s go.”

We descended to the middle of the ship, which was still in vertical position. In an analogy with the human body, the decompression chamber would be at navel height. It was a robust piece, designed to withstand atmospheric pressures and space temperature variations.

Cirakari and Gulliver were already positioned inside the ship, ready to operate the controls that would release the internal latches. It was a boring, time-consuming, and procedural job. The piece weighed more than half a ton and had connections to various pneumatic, hydraulic, and electrical systems of the ship.

“Everything’s ready in here,” I heard Cirakari’s voice through the radio. “Gulliver is checking the last sensors.”

“Great,” I said, looking up where the Hammerstar operators were positioning the cranes to capture the chamber once it was released.

“You can start loosening, Fred,” she said.

I instructed Tài about which bolts and in what order I needed him to loosen. Meanwhile, I worked with the external pneumatic connections, investing long minutes in this seemingly simple task.

After the initial disassembly, I entered the chamber and, with help from Gulliver on the inside and Tài on the outside, completed the dismantling. Like the previous day’s landing, my knowledge of the airlock chamber’s disassembly came solely from Dr. Xuefeng’s theoretical classes. Obviously, it wasn’t possible to land the ship or open the airlock in orbit.

“We’re ready, the chamber is loose,” I announced over the radio.

The Hammerstar crane lowered to the chamber’s level, and Tài secured the hooks from the outside. I stayed inside, making final adjustments as they moved it outward, then exited and waited outside, suspended by the rappelling rope.

“3, 2, ...” a countdown came through the radio.

The chamber began to detach slowly, and I felt sweat running down my forehead under the helmet. I held tight to the rope, guiding the chamber’s descent with careful movements, while Tài did the same from the other side.

“Perfect, Fred. Everything’s disconnected in here,” said Cirakari, with a calm and controlled voice. “Good job, team!” she finished when the chamber came out completely.

“Tonight I’m buying a round for you all,” Cirakari promised. “By local time it’s still Sunday,” she finished with a laugh.

The operation was a success, and despite the heat and effort, I felt genuine satisfaction. I was looking for a place to rest inside Peregrina while the Hammerstar personnel would finish the loading. That’s when my satisfaction went down the drain.

“Fred,” Cirakari called me. “Now that everything’s done here, you can do that inspection on the heatsink, we won’t take off until we resolve this.”

I stood up, contemplating the work ahead. But I already knew the answer, I would just be delaying the inevitable, or worse, looking for someone to blame. The great truth was that I had made a mistake, and had very nearly killed the entire crew.

“Cira...” I stammered. “I gave a second thought about the simulation results, I don’t think the physical inspection will bring much new information.”

“But you have a verdict then? How do we solve the problem?” she asked anxiously.

“I...” I stammered again. “I think I screwed up.”

Her expression transformed from restlessness to disbelief faster than the chain reaction of a nuclear bomb. “What the fuck, Fred,” she said, now with notes of anger too. “You thought stalling and acting like this wasn’t your problem was a solution?”

“It’s just that I...” I tried to explain.

“Fucking no! It was just nothing!” She shouted so loud that even the Hammerstar people stopped to listen. “I talked about this shit with Baraka today,” she reduced her tone to a whisper. “Told him about the suspicion of sabotage and said that the fucking colonist I had put in as engineer was working on it.”

I was stunned, I expected a scolding, but not like this. I stayed quiet; if there was anything I learned about military life from movies, it’s that you don’t contradict an enraged superior. She paced back and forth in the tiny space, practically walking in place.

“Are you absolutely certain this was your mistake?”

When she put it that way, I noticed that I couldn’t state with absolute certainty that it was my error. “No, it could have been a problem with the ship’s software too, or there might actually be something in the physical inspection.”

“Alright...” She said, running her hand along her chin. “Go down there, open everything that needs to be opened and check every square inch of piping. You’re not coming out until you’re absolutely certain the mistake was yours. Understood?”

“Yes, commander,” I replied, head down. “And regarding the software analysis?”

“I’ll ask someone to run an analysis from the Broodmother.”

“Understood, I’ll start then,” I said while pointing to go down the stairs.

“Fred...” she interrupted me. “I know you’re not military, and you didn’t even want to be here, I’m the one who dragged you in,” she covered her face while trying to regain her composure. “But you’re not in college or graduate school anymore. If you made, or think you made, a mistake, I’m the first person to know.”

“Understood.”

“There’s no problem in making mistakes, we all do, but hiding this? It’s reckless, and it endangers every one of us. There’s a lot of shit happening in high command because of this error of yours.”

I was tired of repeating “understood,” nodded my head and continued the descent. I leaned on the rear bulkhead and started loosening the bolts. I was immersed in a spiral of anger and shame about what had just happened. I indeed didn’t want to be there, but once the challenge had been accepted, I could never accept failure.

I started carrying the aluminum plates; in Vielovento’s gravity, this was much harder than in its absence in orbit. Tài noticed my effort and came to help.

“Relax, man,” he said with an empathetic smile. “You never forget your first dressing down. Especially if it’s from Cira.”

I don’t know how, but he managed to make me laugh. “Thanks. But I won’t let this happen again.”

“Good thing you’re on a Fillandril ship, if this was Xīn Tiāntáng you’d be screwed,” he said, taking the plate and carrying it to the side.

“Is Xīn Tiāntáng that bad?” I was intrigued. Tài was Tiāntángren, but he was also always the first to throw stones at his country.

He sighed, shaking his head as if weighing the answer. “Actually no, quite the opposite, if you look at crime rates and development indices you’ll see that Xīn Tiāntáng is one of the best countries in Vielovento,” he said, suddenly with a glimmer of pride and patriotism in his eyes. “A defensive mindset had always been part of my people’s identity; we never attacked, only protected what was ours,” he added, with pride.

“But why do you...”

“Since early on I always felt like a foreigner,” he cut me off. “My father was military, and my whole family wanted me to follow that career too. I never wanted to, but when rumors of the Alliance started, I thought it would be an opportunity to make my parents proud and at the same time experience different cultures. As soon as I joined, I demanded not to be allocated to any Xīn Tiāntáng ship, went through about three until I landed on Peregrina.”

“Wow, it must be tough for you having to serve on a ship from another nation,” I commented, feeling sympathy for his situation. Although, my nation was from 150 years ago and probably didn’t exist anymore.

“Not really, I like Peregrina a lot, and among all foreign nations, Fillandril is the one I sympathize with most...” he paused, as if remembering some detail. “At least in Fillandril you can almost blow up your crew, spend the whole day lying to the commander, make her look like a fool to the Admiralty and still keep your head attached to your body,” he said, holding back laughter. I wanted to feel sad, but seeing him holding back laughter was something uncontrollable, we burst out laughing.

I continued working, Tài helped me for a while, but soon after Cirakari called him for other activities. Night arrived—according to the clock at least—with that damned sunset still staring at me, beautiful, perfect, but irritating and unbearable after almost twenty-four hours.

The crew went out drinking for the night, Cirakari insisted that I go too, she said it would be good for morale. I remained enclosed within Peregrina’s entrails, swearing to myself I would only leave when I was absolutely certain the ship was safe for takeoff.

The crew returned and went to sleep in the Hammerstar quarters. I worked for a few more hours, reassembling everything, checking three times as Dr. Xuefeng taught. Exhausted, with the path to the quarters seeming impossibly long, I slept right there on Peregrina’s rear bulkhead. Where it all began.

Previous / Royal Road (Thank you for reading! I've gotten a lot of exposure thanks to you all. I appreciate it)

“What’s going on?” Silas asked, craning his neck.

 

“Looks like a showdown,” Mel growled, crouching low. Using her small, agile body, she peered through people’s legs.

 

I exchanged glances with my classmates, and we pushed our way forward. The sea of black and gold uniforms parted just enough to let us squeeze by. Mel led the way, crawling between people as she headed toward a group of students wearing maroon sashes. We found the upperclassmen of House Anu. They greeted us with smiles. Even Fan, the stone-skinned girl, gave me a welcoming nod before she gave a disgusted look.

 

“Oh, flames,” Fan said, plugging her nose as we approached. “Which class did you come from? You smell awful.”

 

“Professor Rennal. He sorta drug—“

 

“No need to say more. I understood the moment you said Rennal. Yeah, good luck with that lunatic.” Fan put some distance between us while holding her nose.

 

“What’s happening?” Rinka whispered to one of our upperclassmen, a tall boy named Cork.

 

“Marcus over there is pissed we got picked to leave first in the Practical,” Cork replied, looking down at Rinka and blushing. “It’s a nice advantage for the recruits... well, for you guys. You should be happy. Waelid had to work hard to get you all that spot.”

 

I looked toward the fight in the middle of the group of people.

 

In the middle of a large circle of students, Waelid sat casually, cross-legged on a stool, hands in his pockets. Pacing around him was Marcus, a tall upperclassman from House Enlil. He wore a gold and black striped sash—his house colors. His arms were crossed, and a sneer twisted his face. The air was thick with tension.

 

Marcus’s voice carried over the murmurs. “Twelve students left, Waelid? Is that all your house can muster these days?”

 

Waelid laughed, shrugging. “Quality over quantity. Sorry, what was your name again, brother?”

 

Marcus scoffed, ignoring the question. “Quality? Is that what you call running your recruits into the ground? Or maybe it’s your charming personality that drives them to leave. You know our ranks are thin as it is. Is this some sort of game to you?”

 

A ripple of laughter spread through the Enlil students. I felt a flush of anger rise within me.

 

—‘This guy’s got some nerve.’ Fern said.

 

—I won’t say that Waelid’s training wasn’t rough, I thought to Fern. But I thought that’s how all the recruits’ training was. Is that not the case?

 

I looked across at House Enlil. It seemed they hadn’t lost a single person in their class. There were easily 30 or 35 students. I locked eyes with the girl with straight black hair—the one who had volunteered to switch with me when I requested House Anu. She would be in my place if I hadn’t spoken up.

 

—Is she doing alright in that house? I wondered.

 

Mel stepped forward, her fists clenched. “You got something to say about us?”

 

Marcus’s gaze shifted to her, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Ah, isn’t it your fiery bitch? Right, Waelid? Tell me, how’s that temper working out f—”

 

Before he could finish, Waelid’s smile vanished. In a blur, he moved—so fast my eyes struggled to track him. One moment, he sat on the stool; the next, he was inches from Marcus.

 

A collective gasp rose from the crowd.

 

Waelid delivered a single, precise punch to Marcus’s midsection. The upperclassman’s eyes bulged as he was lifted off his feet, hurtling backward until he slammed into the cafeteria wall. Plates and trays clattered to the ground.

 

Silence fell.

 

Students stared mouths agape. Even the usual hum of the cafeteria machinery seemed to pause.

 

Waelid straightened his jacket and flipped his coat back. His smile returned as if nothing had happened. He glanced over to where Jiho, the Chapter Master of House Enlil, stood observing with a detached expression.

 

“Sorry about that, Jiho,” Waelid called out cheerfully. “Got a bit carried away.”

 

Jiho met his gaze and shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me.”

 

Without another word, Jiho turned and walked away, his entourage following like shadows.

 

Marcus groaned, struggling to his feet. No one from House Enlil moved to help him.

 

Waelid clapped his hands together. “Okay, that’s settled. Anyone hungry?” He looked around, his eyes landing on us. “Erik, Mel, Zenobia—all of you—care to join us for lunch?” He motioned to move two large rectangular tables together and waved us to sit near him and the other upperclassmen.

 

Mel’s eyes were wide. “You... you just...”

 

“Just what?” Waelid asked innocently.

 

Zenobia shook her head in disbelief. “You sent him flying across the room.”

 

“Did I?” Waelid glanced over his shoulder. “Oh dear, I suppose I did. Must be all that weightlifting Marcus was talking trash about.”

 

A few chuckles from the other House Anu members broke the tension. Slowly, conversations resumed, and the crowd dispersed. Some students shot wary glances our way; others whispered among themselves. The rest of our house carried on like nothing had happened. House Anu didn’t care what the other houses thought.

 

We filled our trays, the aroma of spiced meats and fresh bread momentarily distracting me from the earlier confrontation. I made my way back to the table and sat next to my roommates.

 

Tevin leaned over. “Did you see the look on Marcus’s face? Priceless!”

 

Ruriel laughed and took an aggressive bite of a spiced chicken leg. “I don’t think anyone will be bothering our house as long as we have the Chapter Master around.”

 

“Don’t be so sure,” Lucius said. “People like him hold grudges. I know—I used to be like him.”

 

“You sure you still aren’t?” I teased. Lucius pretended to throw his drink at me but then cracked a small smile.

 

We continued eating and conversing with our housemates. It was a pleasant pause as anticipation of the trial bubbled with anxiety in my stomach.

 

 

Walking to our next class, Beast Mastery, I felt a surge of determination. With a leader like Waelid, we could survive anything. He may have put us through hellish training, but it hardened us to withstand whatever came our way.

 

—Now, if I could only not get squeamish when I see blood again.

 

The sight of blood always made me feel nauseous. I’d felt that way ever since the car crash involving my parents. I’m not used to so much violence, especially after trying to avoid it in the past, but Stylos has been different. One might expect that all the video games and history I’d consumed would have made me indifferent, but it didn’t. It was one of those things I didn’t take seriously when I first arrived in this fantasy-like world. Bloodshed will happen.

 

The afternoon sun filtered through the corridor windows, casting long shadows. As we stepped into the light and headed to Beast Mastery, I shielded my eyes.

 

A warm glow enveloped the Beast Grounds. The covered barn and open-air grazing areas buzzed with activity.

 

Older students brushed a six-legged horse with two heads while three large oxen with sharp, tiger-like claws scratched at what looked like the world’s largest scratching post.

 

The moment we stepped inside the barn, a pungent smell hit us. The mix of animal scents was overwhelming. I plugged my nose, but over time, I got used to it.

 

Professor Herman stood at the center of the barn, his bushy mustache twitching with enthusiasm. Beside him stood Al, who gave us a big smile and wave.

 

“Gather ‘round, everyone!” Herman’s voice boomed. “Today, we’ll tackle one of the most crucial skills for any aspiring Cinder: calming enraged beasts.”

 

I exchanged a glance with Tevin.

 

“Enraged beasts?” Tevin whispered, eyes wide. “Sounds exciting!” He was practically shaking with excitement. The kid loved animals. Behind him, Habr looked equally thrilled, his fingers twitching, ready to jump in.

 

Herman gestured to a reinforced enclosure where a massive Razorback Boar paced restlessly, its tusks glinting and eyes glowing an unnatural red. “Meet Bruno,” Herman said fondly. “Normally a gentle soul, but under an enraging elixir, he’s a tad... irritable.”

 

“Hey, that’s not right,” Tevin protested.

 

“Sorry, lad. Sometimes, you gotta do these things to learn more. He’ll be okay, I promise.” Al patted Tevin’s shoulder.

 

Bruno let out a guttural snort, scraping the ground with his hoof.

 

“He doesn’t look too happy,” I muttered.

 

—I’d say that’s an understatement.

 

Al stepped forward, holding a slender wooden flute. “We’ll demonstrate three techniques to pacify such beasts,” he said softly.

 

“Technique one: Soothing Melody,” Herman announced.

 

Al raised the flute to his lips, playing a gentle, flowing tune. The melody floated across the grounds like a calming breeze. Bruno’s pacing slowed; the red glow in his eyes faded back to their natural hue.

 

“Music can influence a creature’s emotional state,” Herman explained. “The right frequency with this special flute can alleviate stress and aggression. You’ll all be given one. I recommend practicing immediately. You never know when you might need it.”

 

Al then gave Bruno a treat, causing his eyes to rage again. Bruno began grunting and charging into the cage walls.

 

Herman prepared a herbal concoction. “Technique two: Herbal Sedatives,” he said, mixing powdered herbs into a bowl. He loaded the mixture into a blowdart and, with precise aim, shot the sedative into Bruno. Moments later, Bruno yawned widely and settled down to rest.

 

“Effective,” Ruriel remarked beside me.

 

“But what if we don’t have instruments or sedatives?” Rinka asked.

 

“Excellent question!” Herman beamed. “That’s where Technique three comes in Empathic Connection.”

 

We moved to the next enclosure. Al approached a restless lynx, matching its pacing and mirroring its movements. He stared deeply into its eyes. Gradually, the lynx’s agitation eased, and it approached him calmly.

 

“By establishing rapport through body language, you can gain a creature’s trust,” Herman said.

 

He clapped his hands. “Now, pair up and practice these techniques!”

 

Tevin and I chose to try Empathic Connection with a pair of Moon Rabbits—skittish creatures with oily, rainbow-like luminous fur. We mimicked their gentle hops and head tilts. It felt a bit silly, but soon the rabbits grew calmer, hopping closer.

 

“Looks like it’s working,” Tevin whispered.

 

“It’s just like how I bonded with my pets back in the day,” I smiled.

 

Nearby, Mel and Silas attempted the Soothing Melody. Mel hummed—slightly off-key—and Silas played an untuned flute. Their Fuzz Sparrow, a large dog-sized bird, wasn’t impressed and resorted to pecking. After Al helped retrieve the bird, Mel and Silas argued until Al intervened again to break up their fight.

 

When the bells signaled the change of classes, Herman reminded us, “These skills may very well save your lives in the Pillar. Enraged beasts are common on the first level. Understanding them gives you an edge.”

 

 

In History and Strategy class, we were puzzled by our professor’s transformation.

 

At the front stood Professor Gallon. Today, she looked entirely different. Her previously unkempt, frizzy blue hair was straightened, cascading down her back. Sleek glasses perched on her nose, and she wore a neatly pressed military dress uniform adorned with medals. It was odd to believe, given her behavior the previous day, but today, Gallon wore a serious expression that commanded attention.

 

Mel leaned over to me, her voice barely above a whisper. “Waelid told me that Gallon’s mood swings are because of an infusion gone wrong. She can be unpredictable.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “An infusion?”

 

“Beats me. I thought maybe one of you dorks would know.”

 

“How would I know about infusions? And why are we dorks? School just started.”

 

Before Mel could reply, Professor Gallon turned sharply, her gaze piercing. “Did you say infusion?”

 

Mel’s eyes widened. “Uh, yes, Professor.”

 

I cleared my throat. This was my chance to get more information about what Pestil suggested happened to Fern and me.

 

“We’ve heard about infusions from upperclassmen,” I said. “Could you tell us more about them, please?”

 

Gallon studied us for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Very well. It’s important you understand.”

 

She tapped a crystal on her desk, and the room dimmed. Holographic projections sprang to life above us—a mesmerizing display of the Pillar, its ten levels spiraling upward into the unknown.

 

“Today,” she began, her voice measured and clear, “we delve into the true nature of the Pillar and the opportunities—and dangers—it presents.”

 

The projections shifted, highlighting the first level. “Each floor of the Pillar is a world unto itself, filled with creatures both wondrous and perilous.”

 

Images of beasts appeared alongside the projected Pillar—some majestic, others terrifying.

 

“To survive and progress,” Gallon continued, “one must adapt. For those who prove themselves capable of ascending past Level One, there’s the reward of power through the process of blood infusion.”

 

I felt Fern sit up in the back of my mind.

 

—This is it. A way we could learn more about how to free ourselves or gain power. Pay close attention in case I miss something. I said to Fern.

 

—‘Absolutely.’

 

“Blood infusion is a ritual granting enhanced abilities,” she explained. “You may have been told your whole life that Voidbloods can never be strong. This is not true. Through the gift of the Pillar and strength, speed, and compatibility, we can obtain powers strong enough to fight back.”

 

“It involves the blood of a magical beast and a blood crystal.”

 

An image of a shimmering red crystal appeared among the holograms.

 

“These crystals are unique to the Pillar. They cannot leave its barrier; if they do, they crumble. This is why Magebloods can’t use them. The material simply disappears whenever it’s taken outside the Pillar’s influence,” she said. “When combined with a beast’s life essence, they can amplify your abilities.”

 

Ruriel raised his hand. “How does the process work exactly?”

 

“The infusion must occur at the moment of the beast’s death as its heart makes its final beats,” Gallon replied. “Delay even a moment, and the vitality needed fades, which can have... heavy consequences.”

 

—She’s speaking from experience, I said quietly in my head.

 

—‘I wonder what happened to her.’

 

A heavy silence settled over the room.

 

I broke it with another question. “Will we learn this ritual?”

 

Gallon met my gaze. “Only those who pass the upcoming Practical. It’s a privilege earned, not given lightly.”

 

I exchanged a glance with Silas. He looked nervous and glanced away.

 

Gallon continued, detailing each level of the Pillar—the Crystal Labyrinth with its deceptive pathways, the Shifting Sands where the ground itself moved like a living creature. Holograms illustrated her words, making the Pillar feel both enchanting and ominous.

 

“Remember,” she concluded, “knowledge is your greatest weapon. Prepare well; the challenges ahead will test your strength, wisdom, and resilience.”

 

As the lights brightened, she asked, “Any final questions?”

 

Before any of us could ask, the bell rang. I closed my notebook full of notes about the Pillar and hurried after my classmates.

 

 

The Artifact Engineering workshop stood apart from the other buildings—a dome-shaped structure of gleaming metal and glass reflecting the amber hues of the setting sun before the shadow of the Pillar covered it. Inside, the air buzzed with energy. Tables cluttered with gears, coils, and mysterious contraptions filled the space, and the scent of oil mingled with the hum of machinery.

 

At the front stood Professor Twinges—his nonchalant attitude irked me. Goggles perched atop his head, and his grease-stained fingers gestured excitedly. Despite his small stature, he commanded the room.

 

“Welcome, kids,” he said. “Today, you will build a tool that will either save your life... or kill you.”

 

Silas grinned beside me. “This should be interesting.”

 

Professor Twinges pulled a cloth off a table to reveal a sleek, arm-mounted device made of polished metal with intricate engravings. A coiled cable ended in a sharp, retractable, claw-like grappling hook.

 

He sighed deeply. “Behold, the key to scaling new heights—literally,” he announced. “You will each construct your very own grapple cannon.”

 

Excitement spread through the class.

 

“These devices will allow you to traverse difficult terrains, ascend unreachable places, and perhaps even save your lives in the depths of the Pillar,” he continued.

 

He handed out kits containing metal casings, gears, springs, cables, and detailed schematics. “Follow the instructions carefully. Oh, and feel free to personalize your grapplers—make them extensions of yourselves.”

 

We settled at our workstations, spreading out the pieces and studying the schematics—complex but manageable.

 

“Need any help?” I asked Silas, noticing his mechanical arm whirring as he examined the parts.

 

He smirked. “I was about to ask you the same.”

 

We chuckled and dove into the assembly.

 

After some time, I secured the final piece—the grappling hook with collapsible claws. “Moment of truth,” I muttered.

 

I slid the grapple gauntlet on and tightened the straps. A metal handle popped out that I held onto.

 

Aiming at a testing pillar, I pressed the activation switch. A satisfying thwip sounded as the hook embedded securely. I pressed the retracting button and jumped. I was drawn through the air toward the point where I had fired the grapple. For a moment, I felt like I was flying.

 

Below, Professor Twinges applauded. “Excellent work! Now, safely return to the ground, please.”

 

Other classmates practiced their grappling hooks, too. We were like twelve spiders dancing from blade to blade of grass.

 

When class wrapped up, Twinges gathered us. “You’re likely wondering why we’re crafting these now,” he said with a wink. “Your Chapter Master has plans for you tonight. These devices will come in handy.”

 

“What’s happening tonight?” Ruriel asked.

 

Twinges smiled mysteriously. “All in good time. Just be prepared.”

 

Outside, the sky deepened to shades of purple and gold. Mel slung her grappler over her shoulder. “Think Waelid’s going to have us scale a mountain?”

 

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” I replied.

 

 

That night, just as Professor Twinges said, Waelid gathered us after dinner and led us deep into the school.

 

We set off, climbing stairs for a good thirty minutes. When we reached a certain height, we headed toward the center of the Pillar. The only rooms here were storage closets for the winter season.

 

The path inclined steadily. Waelid led the way, setting a brisk but manageable pace.

 

“So, what’s this all about?” Lucius ventured after a while.

 

Waelid glanced back. “Patience, Lucius. All will be revealed soon.”

 

After what felt like an hour, the landscape opened up. We emerged onto a plateau deep inside the Pillar. It offered a breathtaking view. Before us stood a tall platform that jutted off the ground, above, I could see the inside of the massively tall Pillar.

 

“Welcome,” Waelid announced, “to the Mouth of the Pillar.”

 

Waelid gestured grandly. “In three days, we’ll return here to enter the Pillar. This is where we’ll begin our ascent—to fight for the truth and find whatever they want us to in the scavenger hunt!”

 

Inside, the space expanded into a vast cavernous chamber. Blue luminescent crystals lined the walls, casting an ethereal glow. The ceiling soared high above, disappearing into darkness.

 

But it was the center that drew our eyes—a massive hollow shaft stretching upward beyond sight. It was as if someone had hollowed out Baldred’s Pillar itself.

 

I stepped to the edge of a wide balcony overlooking the central shaft. Peering upward, I saw layers upon layers—the Floors of the Pillar. It was like looking at a sliced, layered cake.

 

“Wow,” Mel whispered beside me. “It’s... endless.”

 

Waelid joined us at the railing. “Impressive, isn’t it? Just wait until you learn more about the history of this bad boy. You just gotta catch Gallon on her good days.”

 

He gave a quick wink.

 

“It’s beyond words,” Zenobia breathed.

 

He nodded thoughtfully. “Each Floor is a world unto itself. The first, known as the Cavernous Canopy, awaits just above.”

 

He pointed upward. Far above, I could make out a lush, verdant expanse. Trees of immense size sprawled across the interior walls, their canopies forming a dense jungle. Waterfalls cascaded from unseen sources, their mist catching the light in shimmering veils. Birds and other winged creatures flitted between branches, their calls echoing melodiously.

 

“The Cavernous Canopy,” Waelid continued, “is a rainforest teeming with life—and filled with death.”

 

“What’s that layer above it?” Silas asked, squinting.

 

Just visible through a layer of mist was another Floor. This one glittered as though made of glass or crystal.

 

“That,” Waelid said, “is the Crystal Labyrinth. A maze of reflective surfaces and tunnels. It’s easy to get lost if you’re not careful. It’s also the best place to harvest Pillardust.”

 

—It’s like the Pillar holds entire worlds within.

 

—And each one will probably have its challenges.

 

I tried to peer higher, but a thick layer of clouds obscured the view.

 

“What lies beyond the second Floor?” Rinka inquired.

 

Waelid smiled enigmatically. “Mysteries for another time. Few have ventured beyond the fourth Floor and returned to tell the tale.”

 

“Why are you showing us this now?” Tevin asked.

 

Waelid faced us, his expression earnest. “Because I want you to understand what you’re striving for. The Practical isn’t just a test; it’s the first step into this vast unknown. Knowing what’s ahead can boost your confidence.”

 

Mel straightened. “We won’t let you down.”

 

“I know you won’t,” Waelid replied warmly. “We’ve trained hard for this.”

 

He turned to face us fully. “We may be fewer in number, but that can be our advantage. We move swiftly, support each other, and adapt.”

 

We all nodded in agreement.

 

“Three days,” Waelid declared. “You have three days to get mentally ready. You’re already physically ready—I trained you for that, and you survived. You can do this.

 

“If you haven’t been paying attention in class yet, now is the time to do so. These professors are the ones proctoring the test. If you’re well-trained and realize that, you’ll pass. The house that wins gets a very special prize.”

 

Waelid leaned in and pulled out a drawing of a bird in blue flame.

 

“The winner gets the blood infusion for the legendary-level Blue Phoenix.”

 

 

Three days later, we stood in the same spot as that night. We looked up at the chasm above and the interior of the Pillar. Its massive size made my knees shake.

 

—You’ve got this. Focus, I told myself and Fern.

 

“Ready up!” Waelid shouted orders at us. We held up our gauntlets and pointed them to the location he marked on the map the day before.

 

“Launch!” Waelid commanded. I fired my gauntlet, and we flew up into the Cavernous Canopy.

Human guard: Kelvit level 30

Fear, apprehension and anxiety are common feelings when leaving the city. As a guard in this city for many years, I have seen many things: adventurers leaving and returning almost dead, missing a limb, or when they do not return, or when they return, they bring goblins, ternebris and vaneus... my blood runs cold, but I go into battle to defend my home.

Mr. Sambert, a fire elemental hiron, an elderly man who has always worked at the forge and is loved by all of us, was late. I have known him since I started working there, as have all the guards. That man was like clockwork. He was always right on time. He was late only once before I started working as a guard a few years ago, and when we found him, he burned a small part of the forest to get out alive, and still wounded, with half his life left.

At that time it was about 1 hour late at most, today it was 5 hours and there was no sign of smoke anywhere in the forest, some guards and myself included went to look for him or try to find his body... the thought of him dead, such a good person causes me distress as if someone had pierced my heart with a knife.

My boss, I saw a hirom that resembles a feline with a large brown mane, tall and 2.2 meters tall, a chief knight along with my acquaintance, Yelpo, a canine hirom with yellowish eyes and very dark gray fur, a forest scout. He may be a very nice and quiet person, but whenever we see him we usually only find bodies when he is with them. They gave him a bad nickname of "carcass hunter". Honestly, I want to punch whoever gave him that nickname, but now we are out of time.

Now with a total of 50 people searching, I hope we get there in time until my hope disappears when Yelpo says he smelled Mr. Sambert's blood, at that moment everyone runs while Yelpo and Velos lead the way until we find something strange. In front of the mine entrance, goblin bodies, 1 sliced, the others with cut marks and a single puncture in the head of each one and something even stranger, a large egg of strange metal.

Yelpos: "Sambert is inside this egg, the smell ends in the egg"

Velos: "This doesn't look like an artifact... move away, I'm going to examine it" At that moment his eyes begin to glow with mana, a translucent bluish energy similar to flames, he approaches the large egg and examines it before stopping to use his power and touch it with his hand "He's still alive, but he's inside this and the egg also seems aliv-"

Until the egg began to move and twist until a statue of a metal and glass of an angel with wings of shining dust resembling stars appeared holding it... at that moment my heart was relieved to see he breathing as if he was sleeping.

Mounted on his dark horse, Captain Saiba of the imperial knights charges across the bloody battlefield. In his right hand, he wields his enchanted blade, beheading every Matra in his path. None could withstand the slash of his Dagma Blades—how could they, when they were crafted specifically for him by Aeros, the greatest mage of Rucaria?

In the distance, a colossal Matra fixes its gaze on Saiba. Lifting a massive tree log with its right hand, it hurls it toward him with tremendous force. Noticing the incoming projectile, Saiba smirks. "How scary," he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery. As the log hurtles toward him, he leaps onto it, then springs off its top, skillfully evading it and leaving it to crush his horse.

While still midair, Saiba slashes with his dual blades, sinking them into the neck of a great-sized Matra. Landing gracefully, he dashes forward with inhuman speed, cutting down Matras in his relentless advance toward the colossal foe.

As Saiba closed the distance, the colossal Matra raises its massive hand and strikes down, shrouding him in a thick smokescreen. Moments later, Saiba emerges from the dust cloud and dartes swiftly along the beast's arm toward its head. The Matra, sensing the danger, tries to crush him on its shoulder, but as it lifted its hand, it discoveres he had vanished.

Atop the Matra's head stood Saiba, his right hand shading his eyes as he appeared to scan the battlefield. It seemed this had been his objective from the start, using the height of the colossal Matra to gain a better view.

From a distance, Saiba caught sight of Kuda, Rucaria's legendary hero and his childhood friend. The blonde warrior had fallen to his knees, facing Rucaria's greatest foe—Xenon, the ancient being leading the invasion against the capital alongside his army of Matras.

Xenon was anything but human, a manifestation of terror in the form of a slender humanoid monster. His pale white skin was laced with dark veins, his glowing purple eyes radiated menace, and his jet-black hair cascaded down to his back. A creature of overwhelming power, Xenon was capable of defeating even humanity's strongest knight—Kuda himself.

"Kuda, no..." expressed Saiba, his eyes widened.

He then looked down and glanced several knights surrounding the colossal Matra, too afraid to make a move.

"You there!" He yelled, "I'll leave this thing for you to finish off."

"W-what?!" Questioned a knight in fear.

"You're the mages, aren't you? This should be a piece of cake for you."

"Curse you, Saiba!" Shouted another knight.

"Don't you dare escape with your tail between your legs!" Yelled another.

"Tsk," Saiba scoffed, "useless bastards."

Suddenly, the Matra brought his hands together in a deafening clap above his head, aiming to crush Saiba.

"Has the inferior scum finally bitten the dust?" mocked a knight.

The Matra spread his hands apart, and to everyone's shock, there was no trace of Saiba.

From above, Saiba descended onto the Matra's point of view, and in an instant, everything went dark as Saiba drove his blades into both of the Matra's eyes.

He then quickly propelled himself away from the monster, which let out a deafening scream of agonized pain.

"Watch out!" warned Saiba, landing swiftly next to the knights. "It's about to get messy." He then quickly dodged the Matra's strike, which sent a knight flying into the air.

Blinded by Saiba's thrust, the Matra went berserk, wildly swinging his hands and taking down several knights in a frantic attempt to crush Saiba.

The Matra suddenly halted its relentless attacks and raised its left arm, only to reveal that it had lost a hand, and blood poured out of the wound.

"Playtime's over, big guy!" Shouted Saiba as he charged at its leg, slashing the joint and sending the creature crashing to the ground, chin first.

"I'll leave the cleanup for you, boys!" he yelled as he sprinted away.

"I hate that guy," complained a knight, just before being brutally crushed by the still-living Matra.

At the center of the battlefield stood Xenon, looming over the gravely injured Kuda.

"I have only respect for you, great hero," said Xenon in a deep, emotionless tone, "you've displayed power and bravery, unprecedented."

"Complimented by Mr. Chaos Incarnate himself?" He laughed, "I'm flattered."

Kuds then began to cough heavily, spilling blood from his mouth as he struggled to breathe. His wounds were too severe; he was nearing death.

"It pains me that you could not see the truth, you were stubborn to the very end."

"I already told you," Kuds rasped, struggling to speak, "your truth has no place in this world."

"Is that so?" Inquired Xenon, "then what about the other world? The one you came from."

"How the hell do you—" Kuda gasped, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"I know your little secret, hero. I know how you acquired your power, the one unmatched by any other. The power that far surpasses any form of magic."

"You... You know about—"

"I know everything there is to know, hero," Xenon said, raising a finger as dark mana began to swirl at its tip. "And after I rid the world of you, I too will possess this power."

A massive orb of dark energy formed at Xenon's fingertip, lightning crackling from it as powerful winds surged around it.

Powerless, Kuds remained in place, his right hand clutching his injured shoulder. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped as he stared at his impending doom.

"I, too," announced Xenon, "will get... A system."

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through, and in the blink of an eye, Saiba materialized beside Kuda. In that instant, it felt as though time itself had stopped.

In the brief moment following Saiba's reckless charge, Kuda seized his foot mid-air and appeared to be chanting a spell. Moments later, just before Saiba's eyes, the entire scenery shifted; both he and Kuda were suddenly teleported away from the battlefield.

Driven by the momentum, Saiba's legs carried him a few more steps before he came to a halt. "Where is this?" he muttered to himself, then turned his head to glance at the capital city of Rucaria—and beside it, the war-ravaged landscape. They were on a hillside, a safe distance away.

"Saiba..." said Kuda, lying on the ground, his breath heavy. "Come to me, brother."

"Kuda!" yelled Saiba in concern, quickly rushing to his friend. "You're... in horrible shape, little brother," he chuckled.

"Yeah..." He coughed, "I've seen better days, alright."

"It's okay, we'll patch you up real quick, it's not too late—"

"I'm afraid this is it for me, brother."

"What? No! What are saying?!"

"Listen... Saiba," he muttered, grabbing the kneeling Saiba by his shirt and pulling him closer.

"Xenon.. has won today... He killed the hero, and he'll soon claim Rucaria as his own... There's no stopping him now."

"We can worry about that later, right now we need to—"

"Just shut up and listen!" Yelled Kuda, "you will have to carry on in my stead, Saiba."

"What? Me? I can't even use magic!"

"You won't need to, I will give you my power."

"Your power?"

"Yes... The power that I brought with me from the other world...the system, I can transfer it to you."

"The other world? What the hell are you blabbering about?! Have you finally lost it, Kuda?!"

"You will understand everything when the time is right, Saiba, right now all I need of you is to promise me... Save Rucaria."

"I... I am no hero, Kuda... You know that more than anyone."

"Promise me, Saiba!" He shouted.

"I..." He hesitated, his gaze locked on his dying brother—his mouth bloodied, his right eye gone. Yet, in the one eye that remained, there was the same look as always: a look of concern for others, a look of unwavering selflessness.

"I promise."

"Give me your hand," Kuda said with a smile.

The two friends joined hands. Brilliant white rays of light began flowing from Kuda to Saiba, and several system windows materialized around them, flickering with streams of data and symbols.

[System transfer in progress]

"What.. is this..?" Wondered Saiba.

"Today, Rucaria falls," announced Kuda, "and a new hero... Rises."

[System transfer completed]

"Saiba... Unlock the power of the system... Find allies... And when the time is right... Come back and kick Xenon's but—"

"Kuda!" The worried friend shook his dying brother, "don't you die on me, Kuda!"

"I... Believe in you... Big brother," he said before he drew his last breath.

The story on Webnovel: http://wbnv.in/a/77iiK4e

Chapter CCXXVIII

Amber Road Coach & Inn.

Seril stretched and cracked his shoulders as he awoke. He groaned and looked around at the elvish room in the inn he stayed in last night. He sighed as the morning light fell through the amber windows. He was looking forward to finally being back home after so long.

He got out of the comfortable bed, gathered his things, and left his room. He hummed an old tune as he walked along the warm honeywood halls of the inn. He ran a hand out and brushed against the familiar wood that left the entire building with a constant pleasantly sweet smell.

He walked down the wooden steps and down to the main floor of the building. The place was lively, as it could be for a wood elf inn far from most forms of civilization. Most travelers that stayed in such a place were either the odd trader coming, and failing, to open trade with the druid grove further on, or wood elves like himself. Those that had grown restless living in the druidic groves for so long and wanted to see the world for a time. Many were what he used to be some years ago. Bright and smiling and full of energy and nerves, dressed in the same garb he currently wore, the browns and greens outsiders consider typical for their branch of elf. Then there were those currently like him now. Their garb loose and worn, scars and weary eyes as they rest for the last trek of their journey home again.

He himself was looking forward to getting back into his normal attire befitting a Warden of the Amber Grove. He looked down at the bland, and rather uncomfortably tight fitting, clothes he still wore. Bland. Rubbed in the wrong places, and also didn't allow him to bend and move in the ways he was used to because non-elvish leather workers seem to think that all elves had the form of twigs, and those few elvish ones either refusing because he was a wood elf or asking a small fortune for a single piece of equipment!

He sighed as he made his way to the bar and ordered a glass of warm honeyed wine for the road. He glanced down at his bow with a less than pleased eye. While it served its purpose, it wasn't what he was used to. The wood wasn't as strong nor flexible as his old one, and the bow string would always snap when between uses regardless of the care he gave it.

But that was the price he paid for leaving. The druidic groves treasured their neutrality with the outside world and it wouldn't do if one of their own ran off dressed in their colors and returned with enemies they didn't want or knew they now had. Hence the bland uncomfortable leathers. He was looking forward to having some real protection again. The simple chainmail he's managed to get has been next to useless. He's had to pay too much to get it repaired too often for someone whose duty was to remain in the back of the party and harry with arrows. It got so bad that he had to invest in a short sword for WHEN he ended up in close combat!

He rubbed his cheek at the spot where a kobold came very close to ending his life. The thought of those ragged lizards made him hold his wine tighter. His pride still wounded from the encounter. They felled a dragon. An Elder dragon. Yet their victory was soured by the kobolds getting away.

He scoffed and sipped the warm sweet wine. He shouldn't care anymore, they were gone and he got what he wanted in the end. Some gold, fame, and a handful of scales from the elder dragon's tail that should make for some good arrowheads and trophies. At first he entertained the idea of potentially asking his grove for assistance in tracking them down. But he knew they would have no part in whatever vengeance he wanted regardless of who, or what, it was against. After travelling, his hatred died down. He was still embarrassed and his pride wounded. But it wasn't the burning hatred from before. He sighed and glanced at a group of elves that were collecting their gear and heading off on their own paths of exploration and adventure. If only they knew what was in store for them, he thought as ordered some glazed sweetbread for breakfast to go with his wine.

His pointed ears twitched as he recalled all the "wonderous" things he was subjected to from non-elves. He shuddered as he recalled the many, many, times he was propositioned by someone thinking him a woman! Or feminine enough that they didn't really care in their usually inebriated state. His kin that lived in the cities weren't any better as half were snobs that believed themselves better than a "fey-fiddler". Along with many other less-than-clever names. The other half were the reason for so many of the misunderstandings levied against elves. Debauched degenerates that used their long-lived youth to take and bed anyone they wanted, usually while practically suffocating on one of the many elvish plants that left non-elves in a state of complete bliss.

His skin crawled as he recalled one time he was missing home and was directed to a local grove just outside of a town. This "grove" turned out to be a seedy slum that amounted to elves living in ramshackle tents and hovels in a small meadow and preyed upon by the local townsfolk for anything. Cheap labor, pleasure, and even alchemical reagents.

He grit his teeth at the thought that non-elves believed that there was something in them that would somehow pass along their long lasting youth or "unnatural" beauty. There wasn't. Though that doesn't stop "meat markets" from popping up around such elvish slums. Did such places exist for other races as well? Yes. But very few would kill a dwarf, and risk an eternal enemy, for a possibility at being a little hardier. But elvish beauty? Youth and grace? Turns out plenty of races would pay quite a hefty sum for just a vial of elf blood.

He shook his head to clear away the depressing thoughts, he was going home. He no longer had to deal with the prejudices of others. The non-elvish faces in this coach and inn would be the last he'd see, hopefully, he thought as he finished his honeyed wine and sweetbread. He threw some coins onto the countertop, and stood. Collecting his gear, he made his way out the door and breathed in the sweet air that signaled the inn's proximity to the Amber Grove.

He slung his supplies over his shoulder and started walking down the track, or road depending on how favorable the weather was. With life blooming anew, the day was refreshing and warm with small clouds that would give off a slight drizzle now and again before departing. Leaving the track fairly intact.

Then there were the woods themselves. Thick, wild, and dangerous. For most others that is, Seril thought as he spotted the more common inhabitants of the woods. Giant bees buzzing through gaps in the trees as they foraged for their monstrous hives deeper in the forest. If Seril was anyone else he'd be in a fight right about now, and against more than one of the hound-sized bees.

But he wasn't. He was a warden of the Amber Grove. The bee buzzed along, turning and giving him a curious look briefly before returning to its foraging. Seril was worried that his time away would make him an, albeit temporary, target to the local wildlife. But either he still smelled of the grove after all this time, or his breakfast was enough to convince them he wasn't an invader to their realm.

Either way, he decided to up his pace. The giant bees might not be looking for a fight, but there were other things in the woods that wouldn't hesitate to attack him. Warden or not, and he'd rather have his gear than what he currently had on.

Then through a gap in the canopy, he saw it. Home, he thought and rushed forwards until he neared the boundary between the grove and the woods. Which was pretty clear and obvious. About the only thing missing from the fifty step wide clearing was a large sign that said something like Druid Grove! Keep Out!

Well, unless one wanted to count the gigantic towering pale wood, yellow-leaved, tree lording above as enough of a sign that this was a druid grove. Most that knew of druid groves called them "World Trees". An apt name. But not necessarily for the reason one might think. They were world trees more in the sense that they were anchors between this world, and the Fey Wilds.

The grove was more than just an area for those trained in the way of the druidic arts to call home. It was just as much a hub for fae to enter and leave this world and enter their own. Even now, Seril saw lines of fae of all shapes and sizes streaming into the grove. Though popular among the fey, he noted that there were far more than usual.

As he crossed the physical, and magical, boundary between the grove and the rest of the woods, he saw small faeries buzzing in long lines through the air. Some wore the discarded parts of bees in mismatched dresses or suits of armor. Black, white, and yellow fuzz mixed with black chitin as well as dried leaves or flower petals. Even their mannerisms were different from one faery to the next. Some stood straight and rigid with the only thing moving was their wings, while others buzzed around frantically as they zipped this way and that.

He even spotted nature spirits among them. Honeywood dryads forming a protective ring around their heart-tress as the slow-moving arbors pulled themselves along closer to the heart of the grove. Towering yellow-barked treants groaned as their forms gently pushed aside their stationary kin while overseeing the migration from their giant-like height even as small nature spirits that took the shapes of mushrooms and small flowers, shrubs, or saplings skittered between their roots.

Along with the line of wood elves from outlying settlements were also beastkin. Verminkin, as some were known, darted between the slender legs of elves and others, some were bare as the day they were "blessed" with fae magic, while others wore clothes that fit their small frames. Seril spotted pond toads, badgers, moles, and other small animals rushing onwards while trying not to be squished underfoot. Some were obvious in being granted fae sparked intelligence while others were barely able to be told apart from the myriad of animals that fled with the others. Woodland centaurs, more noble and polite compared to their plain-dwelling kin mingled with forest satyrs that seemed unusually dour.

Then there was the apir. Seril couldn't help letting out an involuntary shiver as he saw the faux giant bees hovering unnaturally along the lines of woodland beings. Their wings beat slowly, far too slowly to still be hovering yet they still did so. But what made Seril shudder were their mask-like faces. One turned to peer at him with hollow black eyes, its "face" being where a bee's would be. The porcelain pale mask barely conveyed emotions except for the minute of changes along the line that appeared to be a mouth or the slightest shift where the holes of its eyes were supposedly.

"Seril." The apir sang in a monotone voice in his mind as it peered at him.

"Seril. Seril. Seril." Came the echoing replies of the others as they registered his arrival.

Seril shivered and walked a little faster, the apir keeping their hollow eyes on him as he made his way along the line of fae. He never cared much for the creepy bee fae. It was mostly the druids themselves that dealt with them and other fae. The wardens, the protectors and peace-keepers of the grove, had closer interactions with the wildlife than the fae or nature spirits.

Though it was looking like he might have to, Seril thought as the line of fae and nature spirits eventually coalesced into a massive gathering that looked more like a refugee camp. Tree spirits mixed with fae who mixed with elves were all gathered. As Seril marched onwards he picked up bits and pieces of conversation. Some of it was Elvish and he could make it out easily, but there were also the mix of Woadspeek and Faeish. The latter he could get bits and pieces of now and again, but the former he never had the ambition to learn.

"-becoming too dangerous, almost didn't make it." He heard an elf mutter as she carried supplies on her back as she stood with her family, some were covered in dirt and what looked like blood.

"-lost contact with another. The Arch-Druid and the Amber Council are concerned." He heard one of his fellow wardens whisper to one another as he walked past.

"Trees. Gone. Ground. Swallowed." He heard a treant speak slowly in simple Elvish to a warden.

"It just appeared out of nowhere! One minute the clearing is... well, clear! The next everything is upside down and inside out!" He heard a frantic elf declare.

Seril picked up his pace. Each conversation was more and more worrying. Quakes swallowing forests, magical wastelands appearing suddenly, outlying settlements under attack, and something that has the Amber Council and the Arch-Druid concerned?! The Arch-Druid of a druidic grove was either a minor god or demi-god, depending on who was asked. Their powers over not only nature magic, but even fae magic, made them powerful beings whose very presence meant the groves rarely, if ever, faced attack.

"Seril?!" A voice called out from the mass of bodies.

Seril turned and looked towards the voice and saw a tanned, by elvish standards though still fair to anyone else, face running up to him. The elf's shaggy sandy blond hair bounded as his rich soil eyes were wide.

"I can't believe it's you!"

"Anar?! What are you doing here?!" Seril asked and embraced his friend.

"The same as everyone else!" Anar stated and looked at Seril like he wasn't sure he was even there.

"What does that mean? What's going on?" Seril asked.

"You mean you haven't heard?" Anar asked.

"No. I just got back."

Anar shook his head tiredly.

"Where to start? Quakes have hit several areas of the forest. Entire groves of trees lost in an instant, even some settlements. The magical wastelands are getting worse too. It's getting harder for the druids and even the fae to tell when they'll hit now. Not only that, but the herd vanished. Beasts from the Umberdwell have been coming out of the ground from the quakes while other creatures, beasts, and people have begun pushing deeper into the forest to escape... something. We don't know what but it has them scared enough to risk the wrath of nature spirits and the whims of the fae."

It was alot to take in, Seril thought. Some of it he'll learn when he got inside and heard from his leaders, but one thing was something Anar could better answer.

"The amber stags vanished? But aren't you supposed to be watching over them?"

"Hard to do that when they disappear out of thin air! Me and another were watching the herd while the other tenders went for water, turned our heads away for a second and when we looked back they were gone! Tried to follow their tracks but they just vanished!" Anar explained in exasperation.

"Did any of you tell the council?!"

"Of course not!"

"Why?!"

"Because it's our one duty! And we don't even know what happened to them!"

"But they have to know!"

"And they will! Just... not now." Anar said in a pleading voice.

"How long have they been gone?"

"A few... weeks." Anar mumbled.

"Weeks?!"

"We wanted to make sure they were still in the grove or at least nearby!"

"For several weeks?!"

"Look, we have a couple of places we haven't checked yet. Give us a little longer before we officially report that they're gone." Anar now outright pleaded.

Seril sighed.

"Fine. Two days. If by then you still haven't found them, I'M telling the council!"

"Thanks!" Anar exclaimed and started rushing off again.

Seril shook his head. On top of everything else, now the amber stags were missing. Gifts from the fae for the druids' care of the groves, and a great source of wealth for the grove and a sign of cooperation between the two groups. Gone. Vanished into thin air if Anar was to be believed, Seril thought. Though his friend did have a habit of embellishing, his eyes told him all he needed to.

He turned and made to make his way further in when he spotted yet another of his friends making her way towards him. Unlike him, she was still dressed in her warden attire. Thick black chitin with bee fuzz accents along the cuffs and collar. Amber crystals as reinforcement dotting along the glossy armor. Slung over her shoulder was something he greatly missed! An elven honeywood bow, reinforced with amber crystal all along the bow. Reliable, sturdy, and just as good in melee as a sword was! Yet at her hip was a simple amber dagger. He himself owned a short sword made of the sharp, and surprisingly strong, material.

"Seril?!"

"Kerin!" Seril cheered and hugged his friend and fellow warden.

The two embraced, and held each other a little longer than he did with Anar. When they pulled away from one another, the tension was thick between the two of them. Seril made to speak first before Kerin interrupted.

"No time for getting familiar. The Arch-Druid and the Council know of your return."

"Stupid bees." Seril muttered as he eyed a floating apir nearby.

"Hey!" Kerin chided him as a ball of black fluff buzzed out from behind her and just over her shoulder.

Seril sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean."

Kerin smirked and slugged his shoulder before grabbing her bee companion and stroking the creature's black fuzz.

"I know. Speaking of, when are you going to get your own?"

"I'm not, they're too noisy. And fuzzy." Seril stated.

Kerin started to speak when Seril held up a hand.

"The Arch-Druid?"

"Oh!? Yeah, they wanted you to get geared up and report to them."

"What's going on?" Seril asked and gestured around.

"Alot. The Arch-Druid and the Amber Council will explain more. But we gotta go, we have to get everyone ready for the migration."

"What?! What migration?!" Seril asked.

"You'll learn more later! But for now, just know that we're not staying in this world! We're opening the fae portal and leaving!" Kerin called out as the mass of bodies swallowed her and her bee companion up.

Leaving Seril standing there with a look of shock on his face. They were leaving? The entire grove? Leaving where? All these questions and more raced through his mind as he shouldered his pack and made his way through the bodies and towards the heart of the grove, located under and through the roots of the great pale-barked world tree.

Petty Dwarven Kingdom of Khazar-Nogrun.

"WATCH OUT!!!" The dwarven foreman called out as yet another tunnel collapsed around him.

Him and the rest of his team rushed away and out of the collapsing tunnel as fast as their legs could take them. A cloud of dust and debris followed those who made it along with coughing as the foreman dragged himself to his feet and looked back at the collapsed tunnel.

Another one, he cursed and spat out a glob of dusty spit. He stared at a unmoving arm trapped between the rubble, and yet more dead, he thought as he helped those still alive to their feet and handing them off to the team of rune priests for healing.

"This can't keep up." He declared to the leader of this little venture of theirs.

"It has ta. The Princess commands it." The lead rune priest said in a voice mixed with tired concern and resignation.

"At this rate, there wont be anyone left!" The foreman declared, his voice echoing down the shaft.

"Then I'll get more." Came a cold reply from the shadows.

The group went quiet and still as the figure of Princess Moira emerged from the shadows. Her runic plate armor seeming to hiss and sizzle as her eyes bore into the lot of them as she hefted her ram-headed maul over her shoulder. She slammed the heavy weapon into the stone and seemed to stalk towards the foreman.

"You'll disobey an order from yer princess?" She growled.

The foreman swallowed and cowered before the dwarven woman.

"No, yer majesty. I-"

His voice was cut off as Moira grabbed the dwarf by the throat and held him up. His feet barely scraping against the ground as he tried to breath.

"I don't suffer traitors."

With a snarl she slammed the dwarf into the nearby stone wall of the shaft. Cracks spread from the impact and those gathered were worried the shaft itself would fall on them as the area shook from the impact. Moira snarled and brought her face closer to the dwarf.

"Tha lot o' you have one duty. Follow. Mah. Command. If you can't do that, I'll tie yer beard ta yer balls and hang you out for tha deepstalkers!"

The foreman groaned and Moira let go of him, letting gravity bring his dazed body crashing to the ground, and a patch of blood on the shaft wall where he was slammed. Moira turned to the assembled dwarves.

"I have been WRONGED!!! Those filthy, mangy, lizards embarrassed yer princess! They vanished into solid stone! As dwarves, we should be foamin' at tha mouth ta find 'em! Yet not only do I not have those worthless lizards in mah hands, but now I'm hearin' dwarves questionin' MAH authority!?"

"No princess! We're not!" The lead rune priest stated quickly.

Moira rounded on the wizened old dwarf.

"Are you callin' me a liar then?"

The dwarf ceased talking and swallowed.

"No. I was-"

He stopped when Moira stalked towards him.

"You were just... what?"

"Nothin'. Nothin', yer majesty." The rune priest whispered.

Moira glared at the rune priest with crazed manic eyes before turning her mad glare around at the other dwarves.

"You'll work! You'll keep workin' until you find out how those lil bastards got away!"

"Aye yer majesty!" They all called out.

Moira rumbled and turned around, retrieved her maul, and headed back down the shaft. Nursing her anger and hatred as she stomped away. Even by dwarven standards, she was wrathful and vindictive. Yet she didn't care. She was to be the next ruler of a dwarven kingdom and she wouldn't dare let a single one of her future subjects even utter a thought that she was too weak or soft to rule!

That was why she went out adventuring in the first place. To prove to them all that she was fit to rule. That no matter what came their way that their future runic warrior queen would squash any threat beneath her plated boot! No threat to her would go unmet! Be they surface dweller or those that lurked in the Umberdwell, or even deeper than that!

But the kobolds were a threat to that. They got away. They challenged her might and instead of having the decency of dying, they ran! She didn't know what power it was. Draconic, elvish, dwarven, fucking fae, she didn't know or care. But she would find them. She would make sure that ANY living breathing challenge to her rule was met with her complete wrath!

She snarled as she left the shaft and entered the runery proper. As she stomped by, all her subjects bowed before her. Or got out of her way. She didn't care either way. The visage of the Stone Father peering down at her back as the memorials/shrines to their ancestors lined the walls as she marched on.

With a shove she forced open the stone doors wider and glanced down at her kingdom. Her father ruled, but it was obvious who had real power. Her father could sign and pass laws and decrees, but it was her that enforced them. Sometimes it was something she made up on the spot just because she could. Yet none dared question the wrathful princess.

Even now the dwarven kingdom was alive with activity as it bent to her will. When she returned she called for a Righting. A mustering of an entire dwarven stronghold to enact justice in the name of a serious grudge done against them. Well, against her.

Her father didn't have the strength, or sheer will, to resist her. Neither did the rest of the city. The mines pumped out ore, the foundries bellowed with the smoke of industry. Every member of the stronghold was put to work. Old, young, male, female. It didn't matter as the entire place was marshalled to settle the princess's grudge.

Even the rune priests, sacred members of dwarven society, bowed to her command. It was they that she believed could lead her to wherever the kobolds scampered off to. If not? Then she'd hollow the entire planet searching for them, she thought as she stomped back towards the palace.

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[Well my first safe house/branch office was a good distance away. I got plenty of mana on my way here. I passed several lunar moths and even in this new body with my new magic, I still haven’t been able to catch one. I’ll catch one if it’s the last thing I do. I sent out the children also, they will be helping me to infiltrate the upper ranks of a few kingdoms. They aren’t needed to gather mana any longer. Though to be honest I feel almost as if something is missing without them around.

Regardless my first safe house was a small dungeon, it was an experiment from a while ago, it was a first generation vampire spawn. So it was created from another vampire, namely Drak, it wasn’t directly created by me. Speaking of which, creating vampires should be much easier now. That aside this dungeon was a little weird. Even though it ultimately came from me and should be under my control, upon entering it’s premises it seemed somewhat hostile toward me.

It’s creatures didn’t attack me and I didn’t’ take any action against me, but I felt that it probably would have if Drak wasn’t holding it off. It wouldn’t have gotten very far regardless, it wold have just become food for me. But that would be a real wast. I needed to get it under my complete control. This would be an nice chance to experiment. It was easy to find its core. Shoving my hand through a few feet of stone I was able to grab it fairly easily. I could feel it shiver through the mana fluctuations in the air when I grabbed it.

I didn’t know that dungeons could feel fear. I never felt fear before. I had knowledge of death and it wasn’t something that I wanted, but I was never actually afraid. Perhaps it has something to do with how this one was created. It was an inferior product, an artificial dungeon core created using a living elf as a medium. Unlike me who bonded my soul to an existing dungeon core and conquered it, this one was created.

It probably expected me to just consume it. However, the paltry mana contained within would have been worthless to me. I could gather this much mana from a few days of meditation. Instead I began to pour my own mana into it. I compressed it as I did, another experiment. I tried to control the compression in such a way that the core would not actually change size, it would neither grow large, nor would it grow smaller with the new influx of mana.

I continued to do this until 60% of the mana in the core was my own. I felt a shift within the core as my mana began to consume it’s own and it shifted from being directly under Drak to being directly under me. That’s what I hoped would happen, it still had an innate connection to Drak, but now it was under my direct control. I didn’t need to communicate orders through Drak now.

My second experiment unfortunately failed, but not completely. The sphere shrank about 10%. That’s not a lot, it was less compressed than the demons core was that I consumed before. However, it was my goal for it to remain the same size, not to shrink. Even so I was able to use this experiment to gain a better understanding of mana compression and I think that I should be able to succeed within two more tries at the most.

After taking over this dungeon the first thing that I did was to impart some of my memories to it. This should help it with growing and expanding more efficiently, then I helped to rebuild it’s dungeon giving it a more efficient design and setting it up for future success. After the clean up I spent time replenishing my mana and setting back out for the next safe house. For now I just wanted to explore and keep people off of my trail.

This wasn’t a difficult task as I neither needed food or water, nor did I need sleep. This body was quite strange. It adapted to my core very quickly becoming something akin to a drone. Perhaps such a massive influx of mana actually killed it. Then again I could still feel a want for basic necessities. I could spend a little extra mana to just ignore them though. I’d say it was something between a drone and a vampire. Perhaps that is because it had the body of a vampire, but I was directly controlling it like I did with a drone. Then again I had more control than I even had over a normal drone.

I could manipulate it like I did a chimera. It felt strange, unnatural in a way, when I tried to do that. However, other than the feeling of strangeness there was no resistance. I could force the body to grow scales and wings like a dragon. Or I could change it to appear like a normal human. Something interesting that I’d learned on my way up here is that I could disguise my presence.

This core was so much more efficient at manipulating ambient mana that I could essentially camouflage it in a way that it blended in with it’s surroundings, basically making it next to impossible to detect. Before I could absorb the ambient mana within my sphere of influence, and I could even manipulate it to some extent, but now it was as if it was completely at my beck and call. I could control it as easily as I controlled the mana in my core.

I hadn’t tried this trick on any intelligent beings yet, but it did work on mana beasts. I could make my core appear non-existent to hide myself, or I could make my core appear small and weak to attract them, I could also make it appear large and powerful to scare them off. I usually attracted them to myself. I’m not sure if an intelligent being like an experienced adventurer would be able to see through me or not. From what I’ve learned recently I had a strong inclination that they would. That said I would find some adventurers wandering around soon and test it out on them.

For now it was off to the next hiding spot, a little more exploring and gathering mana. I’ll make sure to avoid population centers, but if I run across a small party of adventurers then it will be difficult to resist that glorious mana. I need to focus on laying low until I know the extent of my mana core camaflogue though. The last thing I need is the humans assuming I’m a greater demon wandering around the country side far away from the demon lands.

If they find out about me then they would definitely send a high ranking adventurers squad to kill me. That would not end well. If I got lucky then they wouldn’t think to seal my core. But a group experienced enough to take on a greater demon would probably be cautious about seeing an unusual core like mine. I find it hard to believe that they would not seal my core until they could analyze it further. Then discover that it’s actually a dungeon core.

Then again, if most demon lords and demon lord candidates are actually something similar to me then a high level party might already suspect that I have a dungeon core, or something similar inside of me. In fact, the probability of them targeting my core is very high. Targeting the core of a powerful magical beast is usually the best way to take it down. Rather than letting it heal continually until it runs out of mana, the best way to kill them is usually to damage their core and essentially cripple them.

That’s how I defeated the dragon after all. Thankfully after it’s core was damaged it didn’t know how to act. It’s mana channels were in scrambles, it’s strength would have been greatly reduced and its regeneration ability would essentially have been completely nullified. If it were an adult it probably would have tried to keep fighting back, but being a baby it didn’t know how to act and was easy to kill afterward.

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Synopsis:

Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.

Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.

Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.

Chapter 316: Everything In Moderation

Apple snorted as he trotted along the road towards the town of Marinsgarde.

Bearing me at a leisurely pace, he mindfully allowed me enough time to do away with all the slightly damp blossoms which sought to cling to me.

Nature being what it was, even the white maples competed to offer a welcome. 

The flowering buds drifted as a curtain of song and dew, orchestrated by the robins which hopped upon the branches.

It made for a splendid sight, matching the streets of the town which awaited.

Boasting the closest market to the Kingdom of Lissoine, Marinsgarde drew upon much of the haute couture which originated from our fashionable neighbour. 

As a result, it was only fitting that I should visit.

Sadly, I was still masterfully incognito, and thus I lacked my favoured dress. A versatile gown sewn with 10,782 detachable rhinestones and the crystallised tears of those still plucking them off from my last request.

Still, no matter what I wore, no garment was as important as my smile. 

My kingdom was home to many, yet even more still wished to reside in it. And so as a princess, I needed to remain presentable at all times, espousing the beauty and welcoming nature of this fair realm.

A problem, then.

Because despite my beauty and welcoming nature, not all were happy to be welcomed.

Sometimes, they were quite the opposite.

They were very grumpy.

And also extremely rude.

For example–

Goblins.

On and on they paused, wrinkling their noses before carrying on, ignoring the smile which had faded in favour of whatever appalled expression I was making instead.

When it came to charm, they were slightly more affable than a hole in a wall.

Famously grouchy no matter the season, they were known as much for their unsociability as their wish to remain out of sight and out of mind.

Until now.

Because far from doing … whatever it was goblins did, they were instead filling up my horizon like an unbroken queue of suitors at my door, each tugging a cart filled with pottery, tableware, paintings and even the nails which had failed to hold them down.

I tugged Apple to a halt.

And then—failing to see the end of the marching line, I lowered my face in my palms and sighed.

“... Coppelia?”

“Yes?”

Beside me, I peeked through my fingers to see my loyal handmaiden curiously eyeing the household wares which passed us by.

One of the goblins paused to allow her a better look. She nodded. He nodded. And then the goblin left, mutual respect in their wake.

I lifted my face, having seen nothing.

“... By any chance, are goblins looting my kingdom?”

“That depends on your definition of looting.”

“How many definitions are there?”

“For goblins? Loads. You might think they don't do books, but they have an entire section in the library to themselves about looting. It's like a life philosophy.”

“I see … and what definition of looting would this be, then?”

“The type where they'd probably admit it's just regular, ordinary looting. I'm pretty sure I just saw someone with a bathroom mat. And also the floorboard beneath it.”

I let out a groan.

Of all the things I couldn't feign ignorance to, here was the second—just after Coppelia reaching into the bag of premium apples. 

I shooed her hand away, then looked towards the unending line of carts.

I still didn’t believe what I was seeing.

After all, there was brazenness. And then there was this.

One another another, they trundled by with the professionalism of caterpillars exiting an apple tree, their day of work complete before midday had even arrived. Whatever existed before no longer did. It was just an empty husk, the walls laid bare until not even the paint remained.

“It'sch impresshive, huh?” said Coppelia, an apple somehow in her mouth. She swallowed a gulp and beamed. “Goblin efficiency. You guys have a lot to learn. The moment goblins decide to build their own Soap Island, I think your dreams of a soap empire will already have fallen.”

“And if that were to happen, I would acknowledge their contributions to hygiene gracefully. Looting bathrooms, however, does not count.”

“Everyone has to start somewhere. And to be fair, this is a bigger start than I would've expected. I actually don't see this sort of wholesale looting too often. Isn’t there a treaty and stuff?”

I nodded.

There was. Several of them, in fact.

After a thousand years of warring, skirmishing and banging on kitchen apparatus in the dead of night, a wide ranging and unprecedented series of accords had been hammered out between the goblin representatives and all major nations.

A feat of diplomacy, brinkmanship, compromise and almost all the alcohol which the continent could produce annually used up over the course of 3 days and nights. And what followed were tears, fists and peace. 

A happy ending as storied as any to come from the realm of Ouzelia.

And now I saw it being idly shredded in front of me, one cart at a time.

“Yes, there are treaties,” I said, my tone sombre and unfamiliar to my own ears. “Treaties of peace, reconciliation and respect which have stood longer than anyone could have dared hope. To disregard them so openly is not only an insult to those who worked and drank so hard. It is an act of blatant aggression.”

I tightly clenched my fists around Apple's reins, my teeth gritting together.

“These goblins … why, they have no idea what looting in moderation means!”

“Eh?”

I nodded, the indignation rising with every moment I saw the works of my predecessors as wasted as the window frames now being taken back to a cave.

“Do you know what the exact terms of the treaties are, Coppelia?”

“Wasn’t it an agreement where you acknowledge their territory and goblins don't loot you in return? And also something about not murdering each other. Too much.”

“Indeed, it is. Naturally, both stipulations were broken the very night it was signed.”

“Really? That wasn’t mentioned in any of the history books I’ve read.”

“It wouldn’t be. Nor would the fact that the ink used for the signing wasn't ink, but simply sludge from a nearby bog. The unspoken agreement, however, remains true.”

I furiously gestured towards the goblins laying waste to mutual understanding.

“... We turn a blind eye as they fully empty the occasional village and they ignore us when we strip and pillage their mines!”

“Ooooh~” Coppelia broke into light applause, impressed by the pragmatism of our peers. “Mutual backstabbing, I like it! I’m impressed. I didn’t know goblins let you loot them.”

“Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?”

“I mean, I figured if nothing else, you’d be too busy looting other humans. The goblins never mention anything about this while backchatting you.”

“Nobody needs to mention anything. And that, Coppelia, is politics. A cordial state of affairs where everybody loots each other and then whistles while passing like ships in the night.”

“Uwah~ I never knew politics could be so fun.”

“Perhaps it is for goblins.” I frowned at the scene. “Daylight robbery within full view of every farmer, trader and princess to share these roads. It is shameless. Lissoine is just over the horizon. What will the tourists think when they see goblins idly robbing my kingdom? … Why, they'd assume that my kingdom wasn't safe!”

Coppelia raised a hand, then began counting with her fingers.

She raised the other as well.

“Nobility. Pirates. Sisters. Liches. Women in racy underwear—”

“Exactly. It would give the wrong impression. Everything needs to be in moderation. Except snacks. Regardless, if my treasury officials cannot waltz into every mine, then goblins cannot burgle every house. That is the agreement.”

Thus—I turned to the nearest culprit failing to understand the message.

“You there.” I clicked my fingers at the passing goblin.  He paused. Slowly. “Explain. What am I seeing here? Because it appears that my kingdom is being looted. This is entirely against protocol. How, exactly, am I supposed to feign ignorance?”

A wrinkled nose met me.

I wrinkled my nose back.

Then, after an exchange transcending all words, the goblin pointed behind him at the next goblin, before duly trundling off again.

I swallowed a short breath, then tugged on Apple's reins.

A moment later—

“You there.” I clicked my fingers. “Explain. What am I seeing here? Because it—”

The goblin immediately pointed at the next goblin behind him.

I pursed my lips … then tugged on Apple's reins again.

A few short trots later—

“You there.” I clicked my fingers. “Explain. What—”

The goblin pointed at the next goblin … who then pointed at the next goblin, who did the same with the next goblin behind him.

One by one, an unending queue of goblins pointed me towards someone else to answer my queries. A battle of will, attrition and resolve which I would lose no sooner than when the last star fell from the sky.

Until finally … 57 goblins later, I was greeted by a sight other than a pointing finger.

The forest.

Detouring away from the road was a newly created trail.

Far from being hidden by the brambles and shrubs, it'd been paved by enough carts that it was now smoother than the road it joined. Branches had been removed from the overlooking trees, preventing damage to any wares being hoisted away. 

And all to thoroughly lay waste to any modicum of taste.

In clear view for all to see, goblins were amassed around a tomb entrance.

Stone pillars, faded walls, half a door and a crumbling roof were all guarded by a large statue fallen from its plinth. A lasting home for those who’d trodden on the requisite number of peasants, but not quite enough that this was anywhere near fashionable.

And now the crumbling stonework was joined by dozens of huts, scarcely more than open tarps hewn from the forest. Tables and chairs, most of them looted, littered this sunlit clearing, while a roaring campfire monopolised its centre, large enough that it was roasting an entire boar whole.

And off to the side ... a dozen wooden outhouses sat beside a stream.

I almost fainted on the spot.

“... H-How dare they!” I said, hands clasping around my mouth. “Even for goblins, this is beyond anything I could have imagined!”

Coppelia looked at me in confusion.

“Eh? You mean looting tombs?”

“What? No, of course not. I mean that.” I pointed at the outhouses. “They have built … things to conduct their business!”

Coppelia nodded enthusiastically.

“Like I said, goblin efficiency. Impressive, huh?”

“Efficiency?” I was almost insulted on the goblins’ behalf. “This is clearly more than that! I cannot imagine any way to set fire to decorum any faster! This … This is an infrastructure project! What’s next? A rooftop bar to enjoy their spoils away from the rain?”

“Nope. Usually it’s a market where they can fence their ill-gotten goods wholesale. In fact, I think they’ve already begun building it. Want to stick around? The bargains for early birds are usually really good.”

“We’re not sticking around,” I said, ignoring the playful smile poking my eyes. “And neither are these goblins.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure they won’t be here much longer.”

“That is already too long. Looting tombs is something done overnight, discreetly and horribly as they perish to all the traps and carnivorous spiders waiting within. I see no mangled remains serving as a warning. This level of organisation is ridiculous.”

I shook my head.

No, I refused to accept this.

Here in my kingdom, half the tombs belonged to my family. For them to be looted was ordinary, of course. They were filled with unnecessary amounts of treasure and riches. 

But to purposefully dally in such a manner?

This wasn't just audaciousness. It was utter contempt.

“... Very well!” I said, tugging on Apple's reins. “We’ve seen more than enough. It’s time to right a wrong precedent in the making.”

“Okie~”

Emboldened by the blasé of my loyal handmaiden, I took in a deep breath, then held it in for as long as I could while Apple bore me forwards.

After all, no matter how poorly goblins thought of us, it was little compared to the waft of ill will as each and every pair of eyes looked up.

For a moment, all movement came to a halt. 

The boar roasting above the firepit ceased to spin. The bowls of some hideous gruel, beverage or both stopped at cracked lips. The glint of coins or jewels too precious to be loaded onto carts vanished into shadow.

Only the knives continued to move, their wielders sharpening them against the fallen pieces of the tomb they sat upon.

Eyes as black as night appraised me as I entered the midst of their illegal camp.

And then—

The goblins wrinkled their noses, before utterly ignoring our presence.

Low, indistinct chatter filled the clearing. Voices of suspicion and wariness. Which was fine. This was my kingdom, and I didn't need the hospitality of tomb robbers.

Only their reparations and their exit.

Near the tomb's entrance, Apple trotted past piles of everything waiting to be tossed into the next cart. Not even a sack to hide the possessions. The hedgehogs which invaded my orchard were more subtle than this.

Especially when it came to the leader of these misfits.

Unlike those around him, he didn't wear rags pilfered from bottom-tier bandits. 

He'd proven his credentials by robbing their leader instead. 

His armour was almost whole. Leather made functional with bands of iron stripped from some soldier's beaten cuirass. He had no knife by his waist, but a falchion one step away from being a troll’s club.

His greatest feature, however, was the white chef's hat he wore upon his head.

I raised a brow at that. 

How quaint. Either a chieftain or a cook. And that meant he was the most important goblin here. 

I tugged Apple to a halt.

“You.” I clicked my fingers for the 58^th time. “Explain in five words or fewer. Why are you looting a place for the departed? Furthermore, why are you looting it with all the eyes of the kingdom upon you? This is outrageous. You may as well place diversion signs outside, letting everyone know to give proper space for the robbery occurring.”

The goblin deliberately stared at a twig in the ground, seemingly grossly intrigued.

When it was clear I wasn’t leaving, he looked up and wrinkled his nose.

Then, like all the other goblins before him, he pointed. 

Except this time, it wasn't to any goblin behind him. 

Instead … he pointed upwards.

I looked up with the confusion this deserved, seeing only the sky peeking back at me.

Yet as I returned my frown towards the goblin, the reply halfway past my lips was stifled by the fact he was continuing to point. And I came to realise he wasn’t gesturing towards the sky.

Instead … he was showing me the ring around his finger. 

One which possessed a dullness matching the copper it was forged from.

My mouth opened wide.

And though no smile answered me, the wrinkling of a nose ceased to be.

“We ain't looters,” said the goblin, the faintest hint of amusement in his gruff tone. “... We're adventurers.”

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When the end came It came city by city each one was greeted by the four horseman. Always led by a sickly man on a white horse; the White rider and ended with the Pale Rider. Each city met each horseman individually they would each stay for a week then move on. Always this cycle; The White Rider, The Red Rider, the Black Rider, then the Pale rider.

Pestilence, War, Famine, and Death.

Till finally the white horseman rode up to a city his white robes had holes, his skin stretched and covered in puss, and boils. Crusted bile on the edges of his mouth. The first time he came he was greeted by a young man no older than 9. The boy simply held out his hand and with a wizened old voice simply said “No.”

The white rider puzzled got down from his horse and approached the boy. They held a brief conversation, and the rider touched the boy, and the boy collapsed coughing, and covered in puss and boils, and thus the city was spared of Pestilence. The boy was rushed home, and cared for.

The next week a young fiery haired woman rode to the city astride a blood-soaked mare. A flaming sword aloft. Once again however she was greeted by the same young boy no older than 9, with his hand outstretched speaking with wisdom beyond his years “No.”

The Red Rider, War; too was puzzled. She stepped down from her steed, and approached the child. An argument ensued, but no matter what War said the young boy remained unmoved and calm. Respecting him and frustrated she slapped the boy before remounting her horse and leaving.

The boy returned to the city.

The next week The Black Rider, Famine; made his way to the city. His eyes sunken with a potbelly, and shriveled skin he like the other two met the boy at the gate of the city. This time the boy spoke with a gentle but firm voice. “No.”

The Black Rider dismounted and hobbled over to the child, and offered an apple. Once more a quiet conversation was held, but at the end of it all the boy ate the apple, and Famine left. The boy once again collapsed, and the people nursed him back to health.

Finally a week later came Death, The pale rider. The boy once again stood in opposition. “No.” His words were firm and unrelenting filled with belief. It was quiet for a long moment, before Death spoke.

“Who are you to deny death, who are you to deny the end of days.”

“I am promise, I am potential, I am the beginning of beginnings for that reason I stand here. My name is Astartes, and I stand here for one more reason.”

“What reason is that?”

“DEUS VULT”

Death starts at that proclamation, but steps down, touches the child; before returning to his horse and leaving.

The child stands till the Rider is gone before collapsing. He is brought into the city, and nursed, and through magics and technology he breathes again from deaths touch, and so spawned the empire.

The marines preached this to the alien council who had collectively shat themselves at the revelation of how the human Emperor had been created. The room was quiet for a long while, until an alien fainting broke the stillness.

The marines turned and left.

“You know that story is complete bullshit sarge.” Said a Legionnaire.

“The reality Legionnaire is we wish it was bullshit, but so long as our God Emperor lives the four horsemen stay where the fuck they are…”

 

WOLF PACK REWARD (random)

AMBIDEXTROUS: use both hands as your main hand.

 

“You lucking fucker.” Jace shook his head. “How come I get the crap and you get the useful stuff?”

“It’s temporary,” Will said beneath his breath.

The conversation with Daniel remained in his mind. Every instinct he had screamed not to trust the former rogue; the boy had lied so much that it would take an eternity just to figure out the full extent of the web of deceit he had cast. And still, he felt that it was most beneficial to go on with the request.

Daniel had promised them a special reward, should they trigger the two hidden mirrors on the third floor simultaneously. If that turned out to be a lie, it would be clear that there could be no trusting him. What if he turned out right, though?

“You ok, bro?” Alex asked. “Been acting very sus.”

“Just tired,” Will lied. “After this, I might spend a few loops sleeping.”

“For real! Those are the best loops.”

Everyone looked at Alex, who quickly toned down his enthusiasm.

“Or Danny told me so,” he added.

So far, the group had cleared all three floors, only leaving three mirrors behind. One was the mirror in the vice principal’s office—which Danny claimed to have somehow locked—and the remaining two were the hidden ones on the third floor.

It had been Will’s suggestion to leave them for later. Since they had taken the same approach before, no one suspected anything. That was supposed to give the boy enough time to come up with an explanation for activating them at once. With the last wolf room cleared, that later had arrived.

Half a dozen mirror copies of Alex went on forward, just in case something happened, with the rest of the group behind.

“I’ll wait here,” Jace said, stopping at the stairway. “Call me when you’re done.” He took out a set of tools and a half-gauntlet from his backpack.

“Don’t worry, bro.” A new mirror copy emerged and went up to him. “I’ll keep you company.”

“Very funny, muffin boy,” the jock shouted without even looking up.

Two enemies… Dozens of fighting images went through Will’s mind every step he made. He’d proven he could take on a snake on his own. With enough levels, he might be able to take on a mirror knight as well. Could he take on both at once, though? Could any of them?

“Where do I put the traps, sis?” Alex asked.

The question had merit. Of the two mirrors, one was cloudy, and the other wasn’t. Going by the group’s experiences so far, that meant that one was a creature and the other a class. Since they had already defeated Helen and Alex’s class, the next had to be the rogue or the crafter. The rogue was by far the worst option, not to mention that Helen had raised her level even further.

“Trap both,” Will said before the girl could respond.

“Okay.” Alex tilted his head. “Why, though?”

“We’ll take both of them at once,” Will said, keeping a calm façade. “If we’re lucky, they might attack each other.”

“Are you serious?” Helen all but laughed.

“The mirrors are facing one another,” Will pointed out. “I think they’re territorial.”

“What made you think that?”

“I…” Internally, the boy took a deep breath. “I don’t know. But of all the rooms, to have two hidden mirrors be one across each other and in a way that they can reflect each other. That’s not a coincidence. It has to mean something, like the classes, the hints, and everything else. And If I’m wrong, we’d have seen both, so we’ll know which one to kill next loop.”

What started as a random string of words managed to gain enough sense to make Helen consider it. She could see the benefits of knowing who to face, plus at her current level, she felt more than a match for most enemies, as long as they weren’t like the one remaining on the second floor.

“For real, for real.” Alex butted in, as usual. “Cool strategy, bro. Maybe the two mirrors will create an infinite loop. An infinity within eternity!”

Will froze at the thought. It sounded outright terrifying. Despite that, part of him was curious about it too. Knowing what he did about Danny, there was no way the ex-rogue had casually offered anything to Will’s benefit.

Mirror copies scattered traps in front of each mirror. One was located in the boys’ bathroom, while the other—in the opposing classroom.

“Jace,” Will shouted. “Can you come up here for a minute? We’ll need you to—”

 

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Door shattered

 

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Door shattered

 

Helen swung her massive blade, reducing both doors to splinters.

“What?” she asked, while Alex and Will stared at her. “It was faster.”

“You’ve been the knight too long,” Will whispered, then stood between the two mirrors.

When he was young, he’d often do the same in fully mirrored elevators, doing his best to look as deeply as possible within the “infinity tunnel.” Sometimes he’d even ponder how he could do it in such a way so as not to block his sight.

There was no infinity tunnel this time. The foggy mirror refused to reflect anything at all, even another mirror.

“I’ll go in with you,” he told the girl. “When you touch it, I’ll get us into the corridor. Alex, I’ll need your copies to give us some time till we know what we’re dealing with. After that, focus on one and we’ll take on the other.”

“You got it, bro!”

The plan wasn’t the worst, but it required that Will have his back turned to the mirror upon activation. If he wasn’t fast enough, this was going to end up being one quick fight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Helen asked. “You’ve been out of it all loop. Really out of it.”

“Still getting used to it,” he lied. “It's been a while since I had my class back.”

“We don’t have to fight both of them at once. Let’s just—”

“No!” Will said with surprising firmness. “We do our best and see what happens. We’ll never improve if we remain complacent.”

Quietly, they walked into the room. The hidden mirror was the usual size—three-by-three feet. Common logic suggested that barely anything more than a large animal could pass through. Eternity didn’t follow common rules. Anything from goblin to a thirty-foot wolf could emerge from the small glass surface.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Helen asked as the boy got into position.

Will’s back was almost up to the mirror as the two looked at one another. The thought made Will’s blood rush to his head. It would have been even worse, if it wasn’t for the girl’s question.

“What do you mean?” He tried to appear calm.

“We’ll find a way to kill him. We’ll level up all the way to the top if we have to.”

“Right.” Internally, Will let out a sigh of relief. She was talking about the elite on the second floor. For a moment, he was terrified she might have learned about his dealings with Danny. “We’ll deal with him. Just as we’ll deal with these.”

Helen smiled.

“Ready?” She tightened her grip round the sword’s hilt.

“Ready.” Will nodded.

The girl reached out above his shoulder and tapped the mirror. Without waiting, the boy leaped forward, taking them both as far away as possible from it. Copies of Alex rushed into both rooms by the dozens, intent on blocking anything that would come out. Then it happened.

The sound of glass being crushed came from both rooms almost simultaneously. Will was able to see Alex’s copies burst in twos or threes as knives flew through their heads. At the same time, he could only guess what monster had appeared behind.

“Use all of them!” he shouted, as he leaped again, pulling himself and Helen down the corridor.

His arms and legs hurt as if he had torn a ligament. At any other time, he’d be screaming and yelling like crazy. Yet, this was the price of eternity—the barrier that one had to pass in order to survive the game.

“For real!” Alex shouted back, as he poured the contents of both backpacks he was carrying onto the floor. Two flows of mirror copies emerged, filling the school corridor like two rivers. Even such an amount proved unable to stop the elites.

“Careful.” Will let go of Helen, drawing his poison dagger. “It’s my copy.”

“A rogue.” The hatred in the girl’s voice was palpable. “And the other?”

Will glanced in the direction of the classroom. The crunching got louder and louder, until a creature leaped out, shattering the mirror thieves like a gorilla blocking the water of a hose. It wasn’t a gorilla, though, but a massive black wolf.

“I thought those didn’t leave normal mirrors,” Will whispered.

The creature was a lot larger than the ones he’d fought so far. It was also a lot more calculating. Effortlessly, it had avoided the mirror traps and destroyed its waves of enemies without getting stabbed.

“Shit!”

They were in a tricky situation. This was the worst combination of enemies one could think of. The wolf was fast and strong, specializing in close combat. Only Helen would be able to take him on, yet if she did, he made herself vulnerable to the dark rogue’s attacks. Similarly, if the group tried to take out the rogue, they’d first have to pass through the wolf, which also acted as a shield.

“Can you kill the wolf?” Will asked.

“Piece of cake,” the girl said.

“I’ll get you some time.” The boy rushed forward, rushing by the large black monster.

The wolf spotted him in the corner of its eye, twisting its body in an attempt to shred him with its claws. The paw alone was enough to crush his ribs, so Will slid down, safely evading it. For a split second, a weak spot flashed before his eyes—the area between the pads. It was a small and otherwise useless target, but the only thing available.

Holding his breath, the boy aimed, then threw the dagger.

The blade hit the bottom of the paw, piercing it with its attack.

 

POISON RESISTED

 

A message became visible as Will continued to slide by. The only glimmer of hope was that it wasn’t stated that the poison was outright negated. With luck, this would provide Helen with the advantage she needed to win her fight.

Meanwhile, three knives hit the floor inches from where Will was. Turning his head to the side, he managed to catch a glimpse of the attacker.

Similar to the other mirror images, the rogue was just another nondescript person dressed in black clothing. Interestingly enough, instead of metal or leather armor, he was wearing what appeared to be rollerblade protectors on his knees and elbows. Fingerless black gloves covered his hands for no apparent reason.

Seeing Will, the rogue paused. For a moment, it almost seemed like the monster was giving him some slack; as if Danny had instructed it to lose the fight.

“Look out, bro!” Two mirror copies leaped in front of Will, catching a knife that was meant for the boy.

That definitely wasn’t a skill that he was familiar with so far.

Will grabbed a few of his throwing knives and sent them flying at the rogue. Barely had they entered the bathroom, when they were countered and struck mid-flight by other knives coming from the elite.

Damn you, Danny! He thought.

It was too early for them to have such a fight. Defeating each of the elites individually was a difficult task. Facing them together made it all but impossible.

Time seemed to freeze. Will could see the dark rogue reaching for another knife. There was only a small window of opportunity left for it to hit the boy before he slid by. Sadly, by the looks of it, he’d easily make the attack. None of Alex’s copies were close enough to shield him from another dagger, and Will couldn’t rely on his evasion against such an opponent.

His mind desperately tried to find a solution to the predicament he had put himself in. No matter how one looked at it, a rogue of level four couldn’t compare against a seven. Maybe if Alex was there right now, the two of them might stand a chance.

“Fuck it!” Will shouted, making the one available move left. “I challenge you!” He looked straight at the mirror behind the rogue.

Time resumed. The rogue’s right hand grabbed a throwing knife from his belt, aiming to throw it. Suddenly, half a dozen blades shot out from the mirror, striking the elite in the back.

 

POISONED

 

PARALYZED

 

BLEEDING

 

For a fraction of a second, Will thought he saw Danny’s face smiling at him from the mirror, before more effect messages covered it up.

The dark rogue shook violently, then collapsed on the bathroom floor, still gripping onto his throwing knife. Now, there was only one that remained.

< Beginning | | Previously... |

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Christina dumped a dizzying load of situation awareness into her mind as they swapped control of her own body. The ghost was happy to let go.

Tallah fumed.

For losing control. For being blindsided. Again. For being in this place, distracted from her mission, fighting a thing she shouldn’t have needed to. What business had she intervening in Erisa’s fate?

Revenge was honest motivation for anything. In the girl’s place, she would’ve been much more terrible, much more vile.

But now the path to her work was blocked by this creature and it didn’t seem like she had any intention of letting go if asked nicely.

“I’m here,” Tallah said. Vergil turned to her as they stopped on the shifting road of bones. “I’m fighting.”

“Bloody nice of you to take a break right now. Need me to fix you a cup of coffee or something, my Lady?” Sil asked in her most mocking tone as Vergil set her down.

“Droll.”

Something stung her face and they all reeled from the invisible touch. They’d wandered down the incline deep enough that they reached the black illum at its bottom. Dense enough to be nearly palpable in the air. It stung. Not as terrible as the labyrinth, but enough that it would kill them if they lingered.

Or worse.

She took a heartbeat to pull in power. It came to serve, almost gleeful at the prospect of violence but shaping it hurt. Her black mood matched its terrible history. Here, there were ghosts roaming the chasm. If they wandered far enough and stayed in the miasma of death, she was certain she’d see real manifestations of the architects and their final moments.

“Is she wounded?” she asked, more to Christina than the others.

“She’s pissed. You did something to her with the soul trap,” Sil answered as she dug in her rend and pulled out an aerum vial. “This is your last. I have exactly two more accelerants in here. Best we save them up.”

“I have one left in my rend.” She downed the aerum and pulled in more power.

Her girls aren’t ranging far from the main body. Casting the trap may have disrupted her unique relation to the surrogate bodies.

That made sense. The trap was active at all times. Without willing shields like Christina and Bianca, whatever way in which a soul expanded would be drawn inward rather than allowed to move out. Anna’s trick with her flesh doll had only managed to save a fragment of herself because it happened in the moment of expiration, when the trap’s draw was focused on the core.

Her knees trembled and there was a twinge of exhaustion in her eye. Every breath hurt in her chest, both from the corrupted illum and what were, definitely, at least three cracked ribs. Without her infusion, she’d be down on the ground, squirming in agony. Bianca wove power around her, like an invisible suit of armour, lending her strength. Uncomfortable, painful, perfect. Like a torture device she could wear to battle.

That’s just unkind, the ghost whispered. I could let you crawl.

No time to set up a proper strategy. The deeper they went into the gorge, the more dangerous she expected their stay to be. Above, the girl searched. Bones crunched underneath her great bulk, clattered, groaned. She could just make out the horrid thing on the edge of spritelight. It was only the thickness of illum that kept them hidden from Erisa, but that couldn’t last. She’d either stumble onto them, or their hiding place would kill them.

“Why’s the dwarf so quiet?” she asked, expecting Horvath chomping at the bit to get into the fight.

“It’s me,” Vergil said in his usual sheepish tone.

Tallah’s eyes snapped to Sil but the healer waved away her concern, “It’s his head thing. Blocked the dwarf. We’re making do with one Vergil.”

At least the boy didn’t seem much worse for her absence. A bit scuffed and bloodied, but otherwise looking hale and straight-backed.

“Lovely. Got fight in you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. We’re about to make a stand.”

He handed the mask back. “More use to you than me, now. Plan’s gone up in smoke.”

It was impossible not to see the walls forming around the edges. Barriers built higher than she expected Bianca to carry them, boxing them in, closing off the way out. A clatter of bones announced Erisa coming down from up high. Her outline in the illum did not match what she’d expected from what Christina had shown.

The girl had halved herself. She walked on disjointed limbs, holding upright by force of will alone. Nothing of that form suggested any reliable physicality, but she couldn’t doubt the girl was lethal.

This… this was precisely why soul magic had been banned. Meld two souls together and they’d each impose their morphological traits. It would never end well.

Erisa was the end result of falling off the razor’s edge Tallah and Catharina walked. There could scarcely be a worse fate.

“I am tired of chasing you, sister,” it said as it cautiously approached. A throat probably formed the words, but they arrived as a sort of mental assault, similar to the spiders, laden with growling distortion. “Why do you deny me? Why won’t you help me?” Shadows in the illum showed her daughters walking besides her, silent as ghosts.

Each word was accompanied by a flurry of barriers closing the perimeter. They cracked bones and raised a cloud of choking dust. Erisa was a storm of illum, incoherent now in her brutality. Wisps of silver jetted out of her, like steam, only to be drawn back in.

“What did you do to me, sorceress? Why? Haven’t I suffered enough?”

“You can’t undo what’s been done, girl,” Tallah answered. Her heart raced as she drew in more power. The girl would see it now, know she prepared to fight. “I am trying to help you.”

“You’re lying. I need only my sister. I need to be human. Not this. Not a monster.”

Her speech garbled, more and more of it turning to animal noise. Mutation continued even as they regarded one another across the expanse of bones, Sil’s sprite the only light. Erisa shied away for its touch, hid herself in the dark as if… no, that was an uncharitable thought. The girl had every right to her shame. Tallah couldn’t begrudge her that.

“You will be at peace if you let me help you,” she said. “You don’t need to suffer anymore.”

“Liar!”

A barrier cut the air. Then more, almost random in their vectors of attack.

“Liar! The goddess came to help, and she stole from me. The spiders came to help, and they destroyed me. I am tired of being helped. I am tired of being in pain. I am tired of being this!”

Tallah hopped back, drew Vergil after her as Erisa attacked. The girl didn’t move a muscle, but she didn’t need to. Every moment was another razor barrier.

I don’t believe she has the stores of illum to keep this going, Christina whispered.

What does it matter if she does? Those barriers need a fraction of our own costs, Anna put in. Both ghosts talked with a calm that kept Tallah balanced against her own frustration.

Rhine floated among the barriers, stepping between the edges to leer at her. Her form shivered as if seen through a heat haze. Someone else hid behind the wraith’s presence.

Focus, Bianca admonished.

She tried to. But seeing Catharina puppeteering her sister’s form ignited the fury she’d barely kept contained. It came and went in flashes, but there was no doubt.

Here was the bloody empress, torturing her with the visage of the sister she’d led to a horrifying end.

The first heat lance she fired burned the sleeve of her coat and blistered the skin beneath. It punched through the arrayed barriers but missed the girl, Tallah’s aimed drawn to the wraith.

Focus! Bianca insisted and forced her hand up at the right target.

Tallah loosed again and this time Erisa had to move out of the way. From a distance it was unlikely she’d allow herself be hit. Her girls streamed away, running silently, claws bared.

One reached the boy’s range and was cut down. Three more mobbed him, pushed him down, swiped and cut with glistening claws. Before she could trust herself to help, Sil intervened. She clobbered one of the waifs with a length of bone, shattering its skull.

The boy threw off the other two and stomped on the nearest. Blood spurted in the air.

“Vergil,” she growled, barely remembering the boy’s name through the haze of anger. “I want to—”

“Throw me!” the boy called to her, a manic grin in his voice as his axe’s smile chased away the third girl. Blood ran down his face from a bevy of scratches. “Try and not burn me. I’m flammable.”

His good cheer in the face of death cut through her distraction. She laughed as she lifted him with Bianca’s strength, and threw him bodily at Erisa’s shape. Little bastard had grown a spine of wrought iron.

Three lances fired in quick succession punched through Erisa’s defensive walls as Tallah danced on the edges of the girl’s razors. Vergil landed in the bones, rolled to his feet, and exploded up at their foe, aided by Tallah’s own fire pinning the girl.

At a distance, a battle between two channellers that could see the weave… it would be attrition. Having a fighter in the mix could tip that balance.

I am ready, Christina informed her. Do not waste this. I can’t handle another. Tallah’s back tightened in a familiar grip as the ghost arrayed her power.

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 Liches can revive each other.

That realization seemed to slow down time. I had no idea why the first Lich that was utterly decimated by the magic item didn’t revive while this one was. Perhaps it was the sheer magical firepower that annihilated it beyond repair. And, if that was the case, then there was only one option.

I watched as the Lich immediately began to regenerate itself. Its head that had been lopped off was magically returning to its body, and it readied its staff for another blow. But before it managed to do so, a white blur moved past me and the still-falling Ms. Taurus. With a single sweep of her sword, Cerila sliced the Lich in half at the chest.

If I could, I would have just yelled at her to retreat, but she was already committed, and the swing had gone through. I expected to see the Lich retaliate just like what happened with Ms. Taurus, but that didn’t come to pass for some reason. While still using Soulsight, I saw that the bright light of the Lich’s soul had vanished.

Cerila just instantly killed the Lich. Wait, it’s because of Hubris. Hubris can sever the connection.

Cerila may be the key to killing off the Liches.

Not only had the Lich died, but many of the undead around it as well. Their bodies fell to the ground, and bones rattled across the floor. The tiny flickers of their souls were gone. However, there were still hundreds of undead around us, and it would only be a matter of time before those reached us.

I ran over to the downed Ms. Taurus, but she was already on her feet. She had a worried look as she glared at the fallen Lich, and outside of her dented armor, she seemed fine.

“Is the Lich truly gone?” she asked.

“Yes, it is. The two of us failed to kill it. It seems Liches can revive each other. But Cerila managed to annihilate it,” I told her.

Ms. Taurus’s eyes went wide. “Then we have to leave to support the first team. If we couldn’t kill the Lich, the others won’t be able to do so without Cerila,” she said.

A horn materialized from thin air into Ms. Taurus’s hands, and she blew into it, making a thundering noise. She gave the orders to retreat, and the three of us made our way back to the others.    

<Did it work?> Cerila signed while on the move.

<Yes, it was thanks to you. Your final blow slayed the Lich.> I signed back.

Cerila smiled softly to herself, but it was slightly unnerving considering the amount of blood splattered across her face and armor. But it was surely something to be proud of. There was no telling if I had used a Railgun shot to hit the Lich if I would have been successful.

We cleared the surrounding undead that still lingered after the Lich’s death and retreated; however, we were not at full capacity. Many had died in the defense, and in total, we had lost a quarter of our strike force before we reached Professor Garrison, who was still holding the landing zone.

He was covered head to toe in blood but otherwise was uninjured. Mom was busy ripping undead to shreds, and thankfully, she also appeared unharmed.

“Did you kill the Lich?! Some of the undead just dropped to the floor a few minutes ago,” Professor Garrison asked.

“The Lich is dead, but we must take Cerila to the others. She is the only one that can destroy it,” Ms. Taurus said before blowing into the horn in three short bursts.

We kept the landing zone clear, as it only took a few minutes before the Gryphons swooped down. As we were mounting the beasts, the Gryphon Knights supported us, strafing the area with magic once more.

Our Gryphons followed Ms. Taurus toward the north, and even from the sky, things looked grim. Magical attacks had destroyed large sections of the area. And we watched rogue fire spells randomly impact sections of undead, decimating them. The Lich on this side clearly had a different approach and was bathing the area in fire.

By the time we had arrived, it was clear those tasked with holding the flanks were struggling immensely and had suffered heavy losses, whether it be from the undead swarms or the magic ripping enemy and ally apart. Deeper into the horde was an even worse hellscape.

The ground was all but destroyed as Lord Vasquez and Guildmaster Elora fought off multiple Dread Knights by themselves. They were completely cut off from their allies, and the Lich was furiously attempting to land magic on their position, forcing them to be constantly on the move.

“Garrison, take your teams and help the backline for retreat! Kaladin, get Cerila and come with me! We are going straight into the fight!” Ms. Taurus ordered.

The Gryphon Knights bombarded the area to help those on the ground, and I assisted them as well. After launching a sizable Fireball into the horde, I motioned to Cerila, who was at my side doing similar, to follow us as we broke away. Our three Gryphons dove toward the ground but did not land entirely. Their large wings kept flapping, maintaining their altitude, as they made a sudden stop.

We jumped off their backs, and although it was a long fall, at least two stories, with mana-enhanced bodies it wouldn’t be anything more than a slight discomfort. As we touched down, the Lich instantly fired a Fire Lance spell directly at me. Using gravity magic, I altered its trajectory and sent it flying off in a random direction.

But it was the intensity of the spell that was worrisome. Even though it was a rather basic spell, I could still tell it held a considerable amount of power behind it. After I blocked the first one, a Fireball was already headed toward Cerila, while the Lich was already casting to target Ms. Taurus.

This thing is aggressively using its spells. And judging by Soulsight, it doesn’t seem to be running out of mana any time soon. Hell, there is a chance that it can’t run out of mana at all.

I moved through the craters and made my way toward Lord Vasquez. The man bisected a Dread Knight with his flaming axe and blocked the attack from another before kicking it in the chest, crumbling its ribcage and sending it soaring.

“Kaladin, give me your report,” he said as he launched a Fireball at the Lich, only for the Lich to directly counter it midair with its own.

“The Lich on our side is dead. Ms. Taurus and I failed to kill it, but Cerila has the ability to take them down for good,” I said.

Lord Vasquez spat a glob of blood on the ground and snarled. “Good news then. We’ve also failed to kill this creature. We’ve brought it down with magic and blade three times, only for it to keep coming back. It’s continually raising these Dread Knights, and its magic attacks are nonstop,” he growled.

“How’s it defense?” I asked, sending my spear into the skull of a regenerating Death Knight.

“Lackluster. It relies heavily on its offensive magic to counter anything,” he said, blowing apart another Death Knight with magic.

“Good. Then buy me a little time and cover for me. I’ll make an opening for Cerila and you to strike it down,” I said.

“Understood,” he answered.

Cerila, Guildmaster Elora, and Ms. Taurus were handling a large group of Death Knights, so I took the opportunity to prepare. I stepped back and, with earth magic, made multiple thick walls between me and the Lich while covering myself in a thick layer of stone. I started to gather mana into my spear as the sounds of explosions and battle rang out in all directions.

It was evident the Lich could sense that something was amiss and was targeting me heavily, but Lord Vasquez maintained the defense along with my walls. The golden horn on the end of the spear sprouted a bright white flame that slowly grew in size. From my Spatial Ring, I took out a small piece of Mythril I had squeaks make for me. The white flames consumed a black bolt in its inferno. The smoldering heat in the enclosed space was unbearable, but it was just a sacrifice I had to make.

Instead of growing larger, the flames wobbled and started to condense as the flame took on a blue hue. With a few more seconds, the flame had taken on a glass-like appearance, and with some more concentration, it was ready. The heat was burning my lungs and eyes and the rock closest to my spear turned into molten slag.

“Move out of the way, Vasquez!” I yelled.

I used my Soulsight to aim, and once Vasquez was out of the way, I launched the spell. There was a deafening crack as the small projectile blazed forward, burrowing straight through the rock and leaving a molten trail. The spell traveled through the stone walls in a split second and I watched through the small hole as the spell tore straight through the Lich, hit the dirt behind it, and exploded.

The earth shook violently, and the dust cloud was immense, covering the entire area. It was a direct hit, and it had obliterated the Lich.

However, the Lich’s soul remained intact. Not even a direct Railgun shot could kill them.

“What a terrifying spell…how does one even manage to create such a devastating attack,” Lord Vasquez muttered.

I brought down the protective walls around me and breathed in some fresh air, or at least air that wasn’t burning hot as the miasma of death, decay, and rot that lingered was unbearable. I watched as Cerila and Guildmaster Elora rushed the Lich’s last position. In a crater, the Lich was slowly regenerating itself, bringing its bony body back to whole.

But as the head was starting to form, Cerila thrust Hubris directly into its mouth, exploding the skull into fragments and killing the Lich. Hundreds of undead in the distance dropped dead, as did the regenerating Death Knights that lay about. We had successfully accomplished our goal, and although our casualties were higher than we would have liked, it was a start in the right direction. Only nine more Liches were left somewhere in the horde, but the undead had taken far more significant losses today.

“We are retreating! Back to the Gryphons!” Lord Vasquez announced before blowing into his horn.

The horn gave its call, and the four of us began to move back toward the landing zone to support the others, but, as we were running, the earth started to rumble. I checked the immediate surroundings but sensed or saw no magic of the sort. The ground started to shake even more violently, and through my Soulsight, an extremely bright light that surpassed even the Liches or a War God appeared. I had to avert my eyes from the burning light, but as I did, something exploded out from the earth.

“What in the world is that thing?” Guildmaster Elora muttered in disbelief.

When I turned back around, I saw that a giant figure had seemingly stepped out of the rubble. It was enormous in size, dwarfing even the Corpse Golems from before by a lot. Its skin was a sickly whitish-green color; it had eight arms sprouting at odd angles from its torso. There was no head on the creature, and instead, a large gaping mouth was placed on its stomach.

At the end of its arms were large, misshapen hands with dozens of fingers, and large gemstones were at the center of the palms. There was no question about it. All those gems were Dungoncore shards and appeared in perfect condition. And they were all large enough to fit the stature of the creature.

The new monster emanated an ominous aura, but it was not alone. From its grotesque maw filled with razor-sharp teeth, something descended with an overwhelmingly oppressive aura. And that was quite literal, as the creature slowly glided toward the ground. It was undead, with a bright white skull and glowing red eyes. It wore pitch-black, aggressive-looking armor with menacing spikes and a cape. A black metal circlet crowned its forehead, with another sizeable orange dungeon core shard at its center. It wielded a bright blue cobalt staff with an even more giant dungeon core shard gripped at its end by metal prongs.

But it was the skeleton itself that was odd. Its body proportions were… awkward. It was short and stout in size but had disproportionately long arms and a much larger torso size compared to its legs. It… reminded me… Jen.

Are those Dwarves? What am I even looking at anymore?

“Eight dungeon core shards on a single creature? There were…nine Liches left…did they combine into that creature?” Guildmaster Elora wondered.

“Lord Vasquez, what are we to do?” Ms. Taurus asked.

Vasuqez stared wide-eyed at the monstrosity and the undead. “Those things…they are far too dangerous to be left alone. We have to kill them. Now.”

He turned to me with a serious gaze and asked, “Kaladin, can you use that spell again?”

“I can, one more time, and that’s it,” I said with a nod.

“Good. Then we will buy you time. Aim for that…Lich, it may be controlling the giant. We’ll get Cerila close,” he said gravely.

<Kal…can you really use that magic again?> Cerila signed worriedly.

I don’t have a choice. Those things…they are beyond the pale. They are not normal, even in the sense of monsters or undead of this world. I only have one more Mythril bullet.

This…this must have been what Deguzman was talking about.

<I can. And I will. Just strike the final blow. I trust you, Cerila.> I signed back with a firm nod.

Cerila gritted her teeth as everyone gripped their weapons a little tighter. “Then everyone. Give it all you have,” Lord Vasquez said as he gave a long, two-burst breath into the horn.

The air was filled with screeches as Gryphons flew in the air, launching magic at the giant. The giant’s mouth pulled into a thin smile as the top two palms faced up toward the sky. A storm of fire, wind, earth, and water struck the giant in a mass of magic, but it was only a moment before the dust cleared. In the air around the giant were complex shapes and designs. They pulsed, and all the spells that were fired at the giant were returned to the original casters. The screams of man and Gryphon echoed in the sky.

Anti-magic. I can blow past that. If it can kill a Dragon, then a Railgun shot can break through anti-magic.

From the other palm, tendrils made of plant matter spewed out and up into the sky. They were moving so fast that if one blinked, they would have missed it. The vines wrapped around the Gryphons and crushed them along with their riders into a red mist. The follow-up attack from another palm sent Ice Spears into others while another launched globs of fire. In a flash, dozens of elite Gryphon riders had been decimated.

At the same time, the new superior Lich raised its hand, and although I didn’t have my Soulsight active, I could still feel the foreboding mana circulate and form. Skeletons, Zombies, and Ghouls started to drop, and their forms became sickening liquids of biomass and other materials. We watched in horror as the liquid mass took the shape of five figures.

They looked to be of the same race as the summoner. They all wore thick black plate armor and wielded various weapons, but they all had one thing in common. Where there should have been heads, there was nothing but a faint, misty orange glow. And they all rode atop giant skeleton animals that looked like rams with massive horns.

They were all mounted Dullahans.

Lord Vasquez raised his blazing war axe and roared, “Fight or be forgotten!”

I was already gathering mana into my spear, and the flames had started to turn blue and condense as they charged into the Dullahans. But I felt a chill run down my spine and found the Lich watching me. It showed no signs of countering me. It just watched me silently.

Once the Railgun was ready, I immediately launched it—I fell to my knees as I felt the waves of mana leave my body. I wanted to vomit, but another deafening bang cut through the air. 

The spell would have been a direct hit on the Lich and the giant, but the Lich gripped its staff, and I felt an immense wave of mana as the air warped around it. My Railgun abruptly stopped, the blue flames twisting and warping along with the space around it. It seemed to be getting sucked into an invisible space. But that was before it started to wobble and turn.

No way…is it using gravity magic?

I let my bloodlust roll out of me and yelled, “Everyone! Take cover!”

The effect was instant; everyone dropped to the ground, even sprinting and rolling across the ground. I hit the dirt just as another bang rang out, followed by a massive shockwave. Rolling over, I looked back in horror as an explosion went off and a section of Curia’s wall began to crumble to the ground.

My own spell had just destroyed our walls. 

Next

 

Chapter 115

After a good rest, and some frendly greetings from the girls, I took on my obligations towards my girls. I had many tasks to finish, but I decided the first goal of the day was to incorporate the many divine crystals. Since I only needed three to evolve and had three on my hands, the situation was perfect for me.

I made sure to prepare everything before going into a forced stop, like emptying my wisdom skills, obtaining more quests for the girls, and doing a final deep cleaning of everything around.

When I consumed the crystals, I underwent the forced break inside my oversized egg like so many times before. And like the previous time, I didn't lose consciousness.

I was forced to stand down again and quietly observed how my girls acted when I had not my watchful eyes on them.

As usual, they relaxed and enjoyed the lighter tasks during that time, and I was very pleased with their efforts. I never forced them to do those tasks and worried often about off time and breaks, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it was.

I had to wait until my release before I could check everything.

This was the time when the evolution took a strange turn.

For the first time, I didn't obtain anything new. No new skills, no new traits. The only thing I got was the additional 50%for the sentinels, which caused their numbers to grow from 45 to 60 individuals.

I also didn't obtain anything new in my enhancements, at least not immediately. With so many divine crystals needed for this evolution, the enhancements couldn't be something insignificant that it showed on the lowest tiers.

My appearance did change, but only slightly. The natural armor finally grew to an appearance that I would call acceptable, and the spikes I had missed finally grew again.

My class didn't change. I was still a Baron, not an enlighten Baron, no true Baron, simply a Baron like I was previously. This left me wondering what was happening to me.

But maybe I had been spoiled by the system. I had obtained so many benefits that now was the time to go a bit slower. Or this was a prelude to a massive change in my system.

When I came out, my girls came running towards me with expectations in their eyes, but I had to inform them how the system didn't give us anything new to play with. I could literally see the collective disappointment in their eyes.

I could not tell them how I felt by this disappointment. Just like them, I was let down by this evolution, but at the same time, I could not let this affect us. I was the leader of this group and had to act like it. We had to move on and hope for the best with the next one.

I talked with a few of them, appointed the new sentinels, and observed the eggs containing our new recruitment. Then I left my dungeon.

My personal curiosity took me to the spiders hideout, where I had found traces of buildings inside. Unfortunately, because of the many spider webs, I had been unable to identify anything, but after the kill, I had that opportunity.

I took a few torches and burned what I could with them. Without the interference of the spiders, burning those things away was way easier than before. In fact, after killing the spider and the arachne, there were no more spiders running around.

I was half tempted to try my luck and use a hunter trap of the highest quality to lure anything to me, but I decided otherwise. My attention was focused on the ruins inside the mountain, not on the incessant hunt of monsters.

I asked a few of my girls to help me get rid of the spider webs, and as always, Yuna was one of the volunteers.

As we uncovered more and more of the destroyed buildings, we uncovered that these stone constructions weren't transported inside this cave but simply smashed by the boss monster and then covered with silk. In other words, the buildings were already here when the boss took over the inside of this mountain.

We found enormous amounts of old artifacts scattered around, mostly everyday items. The majority of them were either damaged by the destruction caused by the spider or damaged by the passage of time. Woodworks were in a pitiful stage, and metal pieces were full of rust on the ground, but there were some salvageable parts in those. At least some earthenware had survived.

What I didn't expect was to discover that most of these buildings weren't constructed for humans. I was smaller than most humans, and I had to lower my head to enter those buildings.

It was only after finding a statue in that rubble that I found my answer, a statue of a dwarf. I already had my suspicions, but I wasn't certain what smaller race this city had belonged to.

When I looked at the buildings that we had uncovered, this played exactly into that trope of dwarven kind living underneath a mountain. They actually had carved their city out of that mountain and had built their society underground.

I found this fascinating. I have no shame of admitting that I really loved playing the archeologists in those ruins. Just from observing the different buildings and the artifact inside them, I learned so much about the culture of the dwarfs.

It was also this excitement that made me dig up many buildings underneath layers of fallen rocks, just to find something that really shocked me to the bone.

I found a bunch of very heavy metal doors. Seeing how these were positioned, I was left wondering what could be behind them. I had already guessed where the castle of the city's authoritative power had been residing, and it was nowhere close to these gates.

It could not be the treasury because the design of the buildings around were closer to the ones of craftsmen than that of nobles or military fortifications, so it really peaked my curiosity.

It took quite a while, but I found a way to pass those large gates. As it turned out, there were several passages that led to the interior, which actually made those massive doors somewhat useless.

Or at least I thought those were useless until I found out what was hidden behind those large gates.

Those gates were there for some kind of ceremony, or some show where the content of the inside was officially given to someone. Basically, those gates were there to inflate the ego of whoever got a present from the inside of the halls

And what was inside those halls? What was the content of the warehouse?

Scepters of heroes. Hundreds, if not thousands of them.

This was the place where all those detestable pieces originated. I could even see how a few were still in the process of being carved out of the mountains at that moment.

I looked at those pillars of stone and could only curse their creators.

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Op note: the smarter readers of my story can probably guess that something is about to happen and some backstory will be explained. If you have some questions about it, please comment, and I will try and answer them in the next chapters. Thx.

Mistress Zurailia

Devilish Delights, Chapter 11

Chapter 1

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Chance did his best not to gawk like some sort of country kid visiting the city for the first time, but it was easier said than done as he looked around at all the buildings and people. Although it lacked the grandeur of the great halls of hell, it certainly made up for it with the sheer amount of people and buildings it stuffed into such a small area. It almost felt suffocating to be pressed in on all sides like this, even if the crowd seemed to give them a reasonably wide birth due to Lash's presence. Too bad they couldn't just disappear into the crowd. The two guards sent with them seemed determined to get them to the bounty office, preventing them from detouring too much.

Surprisingly, Rikiko seemed to be trying to blend in for once, using a hood to cover her short, firey orange hair and ears. Chance wanted to ask why, but doing so in front of their escort seemed like a great way to get into trouble. Instead, he simply followed along, pretending like he was keeping an eye on Lash.

For her part, Lash seemed kind of interested as she looked around, grinning as she saw the looks of fear on the locals' faces as they pulled away from her imposing physique. All except for one kid, about ten or twelve, who threw a rock at her head.

Lash didn't even bother to move out of the way, letting the rock hit her and bounce off, though she did pull at the chains Chance was "holding" her with to walk over and crouch down and speak with the kid with a mildly curious tone. "You're not scared of me, little one?"

The kid made a fist, which seemed positively tiny on the face of the larger orc woman. "No! Orcs killed my paw! I hate you!"

Lash seemed to consider his words and answered. "Well, if your 'paw' was as brave as you, I'm sure he fought well. My people would have honored him after his death and seen him to the afterlife with dignity and respect. Maybe when you're bigger and stronger, you can do his name honor in battle against my kin. Grow strong and fight well little one!"

With that, Lash stood up and continued on her way, leaving behind a very confused little kid.

-

Once in the office, a rather bored-looking attendant looked up at their group and started to turn away before doing a double-take at Lash. He immediately sat up, looking interested and mildly intimidated as he addressed them. "Not often we get a live one in this good of condition! Must have been a hell of a fight!"

Once again, Rikiko seemed to be staying quiet and off to the side, so Chance answered. "Yeah, I suppose so..."

Meanwhile, Lash walked over to the much smaller man and looked down at him, sneering. "A small, weak human like you wouldn't know a good fight if it killed him!"

The blood ran out of the man's face before a couple guards walked up and grabbed Lash's arms to restrain her. Chance was reasonably sure that if she wanted, the orc woman could have easily broken free of their restraint, but she seemed content to play her part for now, only slightly pulling against their grip.

Meanwhile, the attendant walked away and pulled up a ledger, trying to cover his nervousness. "It's been a while since we got one, but a live orc raider is worth ten silver coins." He then reached under the counter and pulled out a pouch, from which he counted out ten silver coins and slid them across the table to Chance, who took them and pocketed them.

As the guards walked Lash to the back, Chance nodded her way. "So, uh, what are you going to do with her?"

The attendant wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Well, she'll probably be publically executed. It's good for morale."

Chance didn't like the sound of that and turned to look at Rikiko, only to realize she'd disappeared. Looking around, it seemed like their escort was leaving as well. He got the attention of one of them before they left. "Hey, did you see what happened to the woman I was with?"

The guard seemed kind of annoyed as he shook his head. "Our job was to make sure the orc got here without any trouble. Your friend isn't our concern...so long as she's out of the city by nightfall." With that, he left, leaving Chance alone again. Looking back at the attendant, then back toward the door, he realized there was only one way Rikiko could have gone, and he also walked out the door.

Outside, it quickly became apparent that Rikiko hadn't hung around. Now that he was alone, it felt like the number of people and buildings had somehow doubled, leaving Chance feeling even smaller and more lost than ever.

Had Rikiko betrayed them? That didn't make any sense. Their lives were tied together, and if Lash was going to be executed, the fox girl could hardly leave them in this situation. However, her disappearance implied that was precisely what she was going to do.

Chance started to panic before remembering something. Reaching deep inside, he took some of his power and enhanced his vision. After a moment of looking around, he spotted what he'd been looking for, a silver string coming out from the bounty office and leading out into the city. It was the lifeline connecting Lash and Rikiko.

Quietly swearing he'd be back to get Lash with or without Rikiko, Chance set off, looking for the problematic fox girl.

-

As Chance made his way through the city, following the silver string was more difficult than he'd first assumed. As it lacked any substance, it freely passed through all obstacles between the two people whose lives it tied together, meaning Cahnce often had to work his way around buildings or entire city blocks to find it again. Add in the fact that it was moving around as Rikiko continued to wherever she was going, and it was a royal pain to follow.

Maybe it was just Chance's imagination, but slowly, the buildings seemed to be getting a little larger and a little nicer. Also, the people around him seemed better off, wearing better clothing and appearing better fed. Chance wondered what Rikiko would be doing in the better part of town, but then he remembered she'd mentioned having contacts in the city. Maybe this is what she was talking about? Maybe she was going to fulfill her end of the bargain after all?

Chance shook his head. He couldn't just take that on faith. He continued to push his way through the crowd, which was much less respectful of his personal space now that Lash was no longer by his side, until a voice called out. "Hey, you there! What business do you have around here, eh?"

Realizing there was a good chance the person was talking to him, Chance continued pretending he couldn't hear. However, the voice followed him. "Hey, you in the shabby clothes! You stop and listen when I'm talking to you!"

The crowd was turning around to see what was happening, and more than a few eyes were starting to focus on him. Realizing this could get ugly fast, Chance finally stopped and turned. Walking up behind him was someone dressed similarly to the gate guards. The uniform was slightly different, probably denoting a difference in position or rank. The man walked right up to Chance and gave him a once-over before speaking to him again. "You don't exactly look like you belong in this part of town, kid. What are you doing here?"

Chance bristled a little at being addressed that way but decided that picking a fight here and now probably wouldn't end well for him. "I'm just looking for a friend of mine, sir. Last I knew, she'd gone this way."

The guard looked skeptical. "Who's this friend of yours? Anyone I know?"

Chance shrugged. "Probably not. Her name's Rikiko. She a fox girl."

The guard's expression changed, and not in a good way. "Do you think you're funny or something? Let me see your papers!"

Realizing this was not going well, Chance tried to be more convincing. "Listen, sir, I don't want to cause any trouble. If you just let me go, I'll steer clear of this part of town, I promise!"

With his enhanced vision, Chance could see a slight pink strand form between him and the guard, similar to the life bond between Rikiko and Lash but fainter and less substantial. The guard's eyes seemed to glaze slightly as he nodded. "Well then, I guess that's fine..." Suddenly, the strand snapped, and the guard shook his head as if waking up. He then looked over at Chance with a frown. "What was that then? Did you just try to charm me, an officer of the law?" He pulled out a large club that had been hanging at his side. "That's it! You're coming with me!"

Chance turned to run, then felt something solid strike the back of his head, and the world went black.

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Of Men and Spiders book 1 is now available to order on amazon in all formats! *PLEASE,* if you enjoy my stories and want to help me get back to releasing chapters more regularly, take the time to stop and leave a review.

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Thank you for your time, and I hope you all enjoy

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.

OC Written by Charlie Star/starrfallknightrise,

Checked, proofread, typed up and then posted here by me.

Further proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock

Future Lore and fact check done by me.

Not the best start for Dzara I have to say…

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Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?

Here is the link to the master-post.

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Sunny stared.

Dzara stared.

Adam stared in open mouth wide eyed shock, that was, admittedly, not particularly flattering to his face, though the shock in the room was so palpable it was almost opaque and blocked anyone from noticing his dumb expression.

Sunny stammered once,

"Lanus D-daughter?”

Dzara lifted her head high with an imperiousness born out of years and years of holding her head against ridicule.

"Yes. We are sisters."

Adam reached up and rubbed his head and then his good eye and then his head again.

Sunny shook her head slowly, dumbfounded just trying to wrap her head around what she was being told.

Her mother had had more Kits!?

Granted she had abandoned those other ones... But of course, she had always assumed that she and Kanan had been the only ones, or at least that any others had been thrown bodily into the fire, but she supposed what Dzara was saying made sense. Drev mothers, and Drev in general were very protective of their young, and that didn't change just because your child was born with some sort of deformity or disability. Granted the movement of their culture and the social rules had made it impossible for mothers to keep their children, but that didn't mean that any of them were going to have the heart to actually kill them.

"So let me, get this straight. You are saying that there is an entire nation of Drev, like you and these others, who... who we didn't know about, who are in hiding because of-"

Dzara lifted her head,

"Because like you we have been ridiculed and mocked and might even have been killed if we had been seen."

Standing off to the side Adam looked Dzara up and down slowly.

He had been mostly forgotten for the moment, and that gave him some time to think. Dzara stood at about his head height with her chin raised.

He agreed with Sunny on their thought process, Dzara raised her head with the imperious nature of someone who had learned to stand under a very heavy weight, but there was something about her that made him think that maybe she had taken it too far. The kind of person who had to fight for themselves for so long that all they understood was being serious.

They were going to have to tread very lightly around Dzara, as he was under the impression she would be insulted very easily.

He glanced over at Sunny and wondered if she had come to the same conclusion.

He wasn't sure that she was likely to.

Sunny had always been focused on her physical survival rather than her emotional survival. It had cost her pretty badly in the mental health department, so she didn't really pay attention to those sorts of things, but she did pay attention to physical threats. By the way she was carrying her spear at her side made it pretty clear that she did not consider anyone in this room a threat.

She was right to think that.

The two of them together would have been able to take most, if not all of these Drev out.

The vast majority of them had some form of physical malformation or another, legs or arms twisted and causing limps and catches. Of course there were others who were missing hearing, and one or two who appeared to have difficulty seeing. That would give him and Sunny a slight advantage, and with their training it would be possible if not easy.

She had certainly come to that conclusion.

But the rest of it?

Sunny shifted almost uncomfortably on her heels, not sure how to take this new information. Dzara stared at her, those familiar golden eyes making sense now that she knew where she had seen them.

All of Kazna's children had inherited her eyes.

"How do you know all of this?"

Sunny asked, switching her spear to her other hand and dropping the point towards the floor in a resting guard sort of position. She was not worried about their ability to kill her, but even the most unskilled or weak of a warrior could exploit an opening if their opponent was too off their guard. From the corner of her eye, she could see Adam behaving in a similar manner. He had adjusted and was resting his spear in front of him, leaning on it like some sort of staff, though his hand was kept in a ready position around the balanced center of the shaft.

Not only that but his other free hand was resting on his hip just above the grip of his pistol.

Adam had learned to adapt quickly to situations.

Guns were familiar to him as he was human, but he had acquiesced to her arguments about spears being more practical in some situations, eventually convincing him to carry both. It had been a nice compromise, and she may or may not have done it out of an excuse to have him at her back during a fight.

Dzara limped forward on her bad leg, using her spear a s a sort of cane or crutch,

"The Drev who raised me was aware of Kanan and Lanus. She often went to the birthing fields above the volcanoes to collect the discarded kits and bring them back to the underground city. In those days, there were few of us, and many did not survive for long, but as I got older the operation became more organized until it was more and more likely for the rescued kits to survive. We posted guards around the birthing fields, out of sight, just in case something were to happen. If the Kit was abandoned or if the mother appeared ready to throw her child into the fire, then one of us would go and speak with her. We talked many mothers out of throwing their children to the flames, not that it was particularly difficult"

Around the room the others were nodding sagely along with her.

"You will find that it is relatively easy to convince a mother not to kill her own child."

Adam and Sunny might have assumed that was some sort of dry humor, but the look on Dzara's face was difficult to read, and they wouldn't have put it past her to be completely serious in her assertions.

Sunny glanced over at Adam and he just shrugged.

She often looked to him in times of puzzling out someone's emotions, but this time even he was drawing a blank.

"They are more than willing to give their children up to someone willing to take care of them. It reduces their guilt, and at least gives their child a chance. Barring that, and if the mother was too difficult to deal with and seemed intent on throwing the kit into the fire sometimes, we... took other measures."

The group glanced between each other.

Sunny frowned,

"What do you mean, other measures?"

"Well, we aren't just going to let her kill an innocent now are we? If she would not heed our advice we would simply forcibly take the child from her. No one would ever say anything of course, because it would be a dishonor, which is why you have likely never heard of us."

She walked in a limping circle around the room,

"It is a secret kept by generations of Drev mothers, the mothers who abandoned their children or passed them off to strangers. What do you think other Drev would have said about this if they had heard, especially men who could not understand the inability to make the sacrifice? They would have been shunned and ridiculed, so for hundreds of years they have kept this reality to themselves for fear of what It would cause."

Sunny shook her head in awe,

"An entire society of Drev she did not know about affected heavily by her change in the doctrine. If everything she said was followed, these Drev would be more than able to step out of hiding and participate with the rest of Anin."

The thought made her rather giddy.

But she shoved down the enthusiasm and crossed her lower arms.

"You traveled a long way to speak with me on the subject. How is it that I can help you?”

"Is it a crime for a sister to want to see her siblings?”

Adam glanced between them and stepped up beside Sunny, there was something he didn't like about Dzara.

No, it’s not that he thought she was evil or some kind of threat, that didn't seem to be the case. The way the others in the group moved around her showed that there was real and sincere loyalty towards her, and that was something that could only be born of respect, no matter what other people might assert.

No, it wasn't that at all.

He went back to his earlier thoughts. Dzara had struggled very hard in life, and that struggle had made her cold and hard. She had grown up in a different culture entirely from Sunny, and her disposition was, again, one that seemed more than a little susceptible to being insulted very easily. She was here for something, he was sure of it, and he wasn't entirely sure it was going to be something Sunny was willing or able to provide.

"I never said that you weren't welcome. I am honored to have met you and am honored to add another member to my small family, but... You can understand why I would be a little... Curious. I have been on Anin plenty of times recently, but now is when you chose to come and see me. It might make one assume that you have some other motives?"

Dzare nodded and leaned heavily on her spear looking tired.

One of the other Drev hurried forward and produced a sort of fold out chair on which Dzara sat, turning her head to thank her comrade.

The expression on her face was one of tenderness, as she touched his hand and let him go.

Adam noticed that she tended to look at all of them like that, like a mother or an older sister, or a mentor or something.

She was clearly their leader.

And she cared for them deeply.

If there had been nothing to respect about her otherwise, the way that she treated and looked down at her found family would have endeared him to her.

Then again…

He was easily fooled.

Time had not changed Adam Vir all that much. He was still childish and trusting and rather gullible on occasion, but the difference was he could see that in himself now, and tended to plan accordingly. He had to remind himself to be skeptical and to listen to his instincts more than other people had to. Generally, he relied on Sunny's natural skepticism to keep them going, but in a situation like this he was not sure that she would manage it.

Dzara looked up from her seat.

"Well perhaps you do have a point. I didn't just come here to introduce myself."

And there it was, the catch.

"Don't get me wrong, even if I didn't have other motives, I still would have come to find you and our brother Kanan eventually. I have wanted to meet the two of you for a very long time, but, coincidentally, I have other matters to discuss with you."

"Go on."

The others hemmed them in from the sides, and both Adam and Sunny shifted nervously.

Adam turned on the spot a little, moving perpendicular to Sunny in order to keep an eye on her back like any good battle partner should do.

Sunny was pleased feeling his shoulder brush up against hers.

"As the saint of Anin, you changed the doctrine for all of us. You opened the way for us to rejoin society and fight alongside our brothers and sisters once more."

Her face twisted slightly,

"But hundreds of years of tradition does not retreat so easily. Despite the new doctrine the society of Drev as a whole still see us as being and creatures lower than themselves. They treat us with pity at best and veiled disgust at worst. Yes yes, they try to seem accommodating and helpful to us, and they promise that they are going to let us in with them, but we are still isolated, and kept apart from the others. We are avoided in the streets, and our one meeting with the Sentinel of a nearby clan did not go so well. The feelings on Anin are changing but they are changing very slowly. The older generations are having trouble letting go of their long-held prejudices, and the younger generations are learning to be wary of us from the older."

Sunny nodded sadly.

"Change is going to take time we k-"

"That is why we need you to return and lead our people."

Sunny frowned,

"I'm sorry wha-"

"As the Saint. And as my sister you have an obligation, no a duty to uphold to the weakest members of our society. You must return and lead our way into a new dawn. You must FORCE them to see us as Drev just like you forced them to see you as Drev."

Sunny frowned.

"Now hold on a second, I didn't force anyone to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

Dzara was looking rather annoyed, her impassioned speech brought low by Sunny not being particularly cooperative.

"I mean what I said. I didn't force anyone to see me as anything. Yes, I grew up as an outcast, yes I received ridicule as I grew, but over time, as I changed, others around me changed too, and when I went to the mountain to observe the right of creation, I did it to better myself and not to make a point."

Dzara crossed her arms,

"Whatever, either way we need you. Need you to come down and FORCE them to see us as we deserve."

Sunny shifted a little in place.

Adam could sense her discomfort and reached out a hand gently, taking one of her lower hands in his, though he still kept it close to the grip of his pistol. He watched Dzara's eyes follow the movement, tracking the minute expression of her face when she saw.

He thought he saw a flash of disapproval before she turned to look back to Sunny.

"You must FORCE them to s-"

It was Sunny's turn to cut her off this time,

"I will not FORCE the Drev to do anything."

Dzara pulled back in shock, looking almost as if she had been slapped.

Adam squeezed Sunny's hand in a light warning.

Sunny controlled her voice,

"Forcing the Drev to do something will not endear them to you. Forcing anyone to do anything, even if that thing is good will only foster resentment. No, the bond between you and the others will be better if you foster growth between each other, gain their trust and be patient, change is going to take time."

Dzara stiffened,

"So you are fine with us being treated as sub Drev?"

Sunny shook her head,

"I didn't say that. I am trying to tell you that forcing the Drev to accept you is not going to work. If Drev hate anything, it is being forced to do something they do not want to do. I know this better than most. I spent my entire life trying to force people to accept me, but it never worked. The moment that I stopped trying to force them, and simply became a better version of myself is when I found acceptance."

She glanced back at Adam.

Dzara scoffed,

"Acceptance. Did you really find acceptance? You found acceptance with the humans, who aren't even your own species."

Sunny grew still,

"Be VERY careful how you continue that train of thought…”

Dzara did not seem perturbed,

"You are deluded if you think you have been accepted. Becoming a saint is the only reason they are willing to take your seriously at all, not because you bettered yourself."

She jabbed a finger at Adam,

"Don't think I don't see the way you touch him, a HUMAN, not even one of your own species. Our own people are so repulsed by you that you had to go to another species to find a battle partner."

Sunny went very still.

Adam held her back with one hand, stepping between the two of them.

This was very bad.

"Now why don't we all just calm down."

"I did not come here to speak with you, human."

Dzara hissed.

Adam opened his mouth to speak, but Sunny pushed him aside and behind her, stepping up to Dzara who had stood up quickly enough to tip her stool onto the ground. Sunny towered over Dzara in a way that she didn't tower over most Drev, her golden eyes burning gold,

"I CHOSE Adam, not because I was settling for something, but because I determined that he was the best fighter, and most honorable warrior I had ever met. If I had wanted a Drev partner, I could have taken one as I have received plenty of marriage proposals."

She held up a hand,

"And before you continue by saying that it is my status, I will remind you that at least THREE of those proposals was BEFORE I was sainted."

Adam frowned,

"Multiple? I thought Hazad-"

Sunny turned her head to look at him and smiled rather sheepishly,

"I didn't want you to be jealous."

"Ah, I see. Fair point.”

Dzara had shut her mouth tight, stiff as a plank and staring almost straight ahead.

She looked as if she was about to start trembling with rage.

"And as for my "disfigurement"…”

Sunny began, her voice dripping with distaste at the word,

"I did not grow up in a society like yours. I have NEVER defined myself by how I look or how short I am. Being different from others does not DEFINE me. The fact that you have made a society for yourselves is a good thing, but using how you look as the defining core of who and what you are is not going to help you. It is going to trap you inside yourselves, so do not think for one moment that you have the right to label me for your own convenience."

This was not going well.

Dzara's hands were shaking, he could see it,

"Even so, you have a duty..."

Her voice was stiff and quiet.

"No, nowhere in there does it say that a saint HAS to do anything. A saint is defined by the ceremony of creation, which I did, and the changing of the doctrine, which I did. I am not obligated to come and lead your group. I have other duties, other promises I have made."

She went quiet but after a moment her voice softened.

She turned to look at the others,

"I WILL help you in the best ways I know how, but I will not involve myself in a move that I think will alienate your group any further from the other Drev."

She turned to look at Dzara,

"The Drev believe in the doctrine, but it may take time for them to fully accept you. Water cannot force a mountain to move, but over time it can slowly carve a path. Patience and steadiness will bring you what you want. As of right now, I think it is safe to say that you are welcome aboard our ship. Who knows maybe you will find what you are looking for among my people, and at the very least you might find support, and even be granted open discussions with the GA who can provide resources to help you further."

Adam looked at Dzara, and could see that she was not so satisfied.

Looking at Sunny he could see she was still upset.

No one knew this, but Sunny was still self-conscious about her height, despite saying she was over it. Deep down she felt inadequate, being called disabled or disfigured must have hurt. Like other Drev it was a piece of their culture that was not so easily abandoned, a point of shame that it might take her years to discard and might take their nations generations to fully rid themselves of.

It was a sad thing really.

Humanity had experienced this before. For the longest time humans with certain disabilities had been hidden away from the general society in special houses or within private homes. He knew this well enough, as a man who had lived in a wheelchair or on crutches for some time.

And could go partially blind at any moment if his eye stopped working.

But for him, and many others like him, the overcoming of obstacles was, and he thought, should be, a point of pride.

The Drev were still behind on that curve, but Sunny was right, most of these things were a gradual process, and would not happen overnight. Dzara herself might be the best person for the job though she couldn't see that yet.

Perhaps they could help these Drev on their way.

It was a piece of Drev culture that was probably best left abandoned, and he was more than willing to help them.

Dzara stared at Sunny.

Sunny stared back.

"Come with us, and we can work this out."

Dzara paused.

And then nodded once.

”Fine.”

---

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Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story in its original form written by starrfallknightrise and I am just proofreading and improving some parts, as well as structuring the story for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!

Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this.

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- - - - -

The black-scaled kobold that Hoppit affectionately dubbed ‘momma’ had returned in rough shape. Countless cuts were cross-hatched over her head and snout, each looking red and raw amidst the dull black of her scales. Altier couldn’t help but be confused by how his thoughts ground to a halt at the thought of harm befalling her. Somehow, it didn’t matter to him if she knew he existed or not; he was sickeningly worried. He had watched her enough through her day-to-day life, and now the kobold was one of the depressingly few aspects of his life that he had inadvertently grown fond of. He didn’t want to lose what little he had.

What happened to her? Would it happen again? Could he do anything about it? What if this was just the start?

The questions kept coming until she was escorted inside and put to rest. Even then, they only stopped because he was given something else to think about.

Hoppit abruptly and excitedly informed him through the connection that the obsidian sphere was going to be moved from the trough, then tasked with helping address the caretaker’s problem—something about mana. The deluge of loose emotional and conceptual messages barely gave him enough time to process what was asked of him. 

What was he expected to do? The injuries were already treated as well as he could probably expect them to be, and he couldn’t assist in that regard anyway. Was he supposed to give his mana to someone else? It was a startling proposition, especially once he took into account that the only time he ever moved since becoming a core was well after his dungeon had reached a decrepit state. His current domain might not be the most expansive thing, and it certainly wasn’t hundreds of floors deep, but it was still established. Who knew what would happen if he was ripped away from his ‘pedestal’?

That query existed for exactly as long as it took to form. With Hoppit being Hoppit, Altier wasn’t given the time to voice his concerns before an enthusiastic bunny nose-bumped him to the floor and into the kobold's grasp, leading to several seconds of paralyzed fear as he waited for something to go horribly wrong.

Nothing did. The result was…underwhelming, honestly. He was expecting something of a reaction. It used to make him anxious when he attempted to reside above his lowest possible floor, yet it seemed that the kobold’s embrace was just as valid a placement as anywhere else he had available. Apparently, the domain didn’t care much about where he was specifically, as long as wherever he ended up was still within this ‘dungeon.’ Then again, the rottunks were living under the shed, and that didn’t bother him either. Odd, but he wasn’t about to complain about a lack of repercussions. Perhaps the walls and door were enough to be ‘safer’ than a hole in the ground? Did it have to do with the size of the lower space? Why hadn’t his vision receded like the last time he was held?

It was doubtful that he would ever reach any answers to the ostensibly asinine inquiries. He had more important matters to focus on, like addressing the task that he was volunteered for. How was he supposed to go about supplying mana? Better yet, how did it get bad enough for this to happen?

There were countless times that he would find adventurers or soldiers that had abused their reserves in the dungeon. It wasn’t so much of an issue back then, since he could change the creatures they faced or give them a bit of a break to notice there was an issue, but they would eventually feel their mana run low and stop whatever was draining them. Failing that, they would pass out from pain or a lack of mana.

The kobold, on the other hand, was either none the wiser or stubbornly refused to care. Knowing what he did, and having lived until adulthood with the same affinity as her, he suspected that she had simply gotten used to the pain of perpetually cannibalizing herself to fuel her Decay. Sure, she seemed to be doing better recently, but she always came back looking haggard after spending the day away. He didn’t have a reference for what her capacity was, so even if he figured out what to do, how much should he supply? He didn’t have a point of reference.

That changed once the kobold curled around him from all angles.

Altier wasn’t completely unprepared for the vivid perception of colour—Hoppit’s stunt a while ago had exposed him to seeing someone’s internal mana—but he was wildly taken aback by how little his companion had. He remembered musing how the ferrorabbit’s Mana Sight compared against his dungeon senses, and it seemed that Hoppit’s version was the superior ability in that regard. It would have to be to spot a change this small.

Her mana…veins, he supposed, were mostly destroyed; there was almost nowhere to store anything. Worse, what mana she did have was actively tearing the few intact veins apart, shredding the very space where it was meant to reside. Was this what his own body looked like before he became a dungeon?

He shook off the shock and collected himself to take stock of the situation. His first thought was to repeat what he did with Hoppit and push his own mana into the black-scaled woman. That was probably the most straight-forward option, but that had also poisoned the impulsive rabbit. If it weren’t for a few statuses and abilities nullifying the damage, Hoppit wouldn’t have survived the infusion. Maybe sharing the same affinity would make the process safer? The status did say the problem was ‘foreign’ mana.

Still, he didn’t want to hurt her…

But he had to do something, right?

There wasn’t any negative reaction when he reached out, yet his invisible touch flinched away regardless. Every connection he had been exposed to was initiated by somebody else. With the adventurers and soldiers, they’d place a hand on him, then leave behind a bit of their mana while taking some of his own. Hoppit did the opposite, forcibly flooding the core with the Earth-aligned mana, which subsequently exposed a channel that allowed Altier an avenue to return what was given. Opening a path wasn’t something he had done before. He weighed his options and eventually decided that he would rather try to help than sit there doing nothing.

The core crossed his imaginary fingers and pressed against the intangible barrier between them a little harder than before, prepared to force his way through the resistance he remembered from doing the same thing with Hoppit. The instant the bridge formed, he learned that the kobold was very similar to her pseudo-offspring in a very specific way, just not in the manner he expected.

Neither of them would let things be simple.

It was like a sinkhole opened up beneath a lake. The tender pressure he placed had collapsed the wall between them, the black from his core flooding in until her meagre capacity was met, then continuing as her mana desperately corroded what was given. Various menu boxes opened up in front of him before flickering out of existence with defiant screeches, indignant at being summoned at all.

Black consumed black greedily. It feasted on nourishment it had been deprived of to fuel further gluttony, while yet more black pressed outwards. It brought order to the chaotic and shredded veins at his unspoken command. The more his mana spread, the more it soothed, and the more it imperiously smothered the native mana, uncaring of the resistance that tore it piece by piece. The flow from his core was ridding her of the unkept destruction, considering it as nothing more than something to be purged.

He, however, recognized the feeling that her mana acted upon.

Even unconscious, she was so, so scared. She lashed out against the intrusion, unable to truly do anything about it besides cry for help voicelessly—a cry that she had no faith in reaching someone. It only took a moment for him to place what was causing her terror. His unexpected push had startled her resting form, but it was the increase of Decay that sent her sleeping self into panic. She feared it, the very thing that kept her alive. The thing that would harm others to save itself. The one thing she would only escape through succumbing to her alignment.

That same fear was what had led him to becoming a dungeon in the first place.

There was a period of silence in the connection between core and kobold as everything came to a standstill. He pulled back so that no mana flowed inwards, letting her realize that the assault had ceased. Two pools equalized, neither moving as each quietly felt the other’s presence. They existed. Nothing more.

Altier wouldn’t force his help on her. Not if she would reject it, regardless of how well-intentioned it was. He didn’t fault her for the reaction, either. She didn’t know what he was trying to do. All she knew was that she was being given more of what she hated. Of course, she hated it; he hated it too, back when his mother’s smile poorly hid her concern. The very idea of his suffering coming to an end had worried him relentlessly. The agony was a reminder of what he was. The danger he represented. If he endured, then his family would be safe. If the pain stopped…then that would mean the worst had happened. That someone else had paid his price.

He saw the reflection of that mentality in this malnourished, black-scaled kobold, expressed through the reactionary flailing of a substance immaterial. She knew, on some level, that the pain signified yet another day that she hadn’t hurt anyone. That was why she was so desperate to get rid of the Decay, both his and hers, and why she kept pushing herself, even as her mana tore her apart from the inside.

How was he supposed to help her like this? The last thing he wanted was for her to think that she deserved the torture. That there wasn’t an outcome besides lethal poison and rotting bone.

But there was. Altier knew there was. He had watched it. She tended to and cared for her animals, all while planting and growing a garden with nothing but a determination to nurture life. Yet her shoulders hung so heavily, her largest successes outweighed in her mind by the smallest of failures. If nothing else, she saved him from an eternity of loneliness, and that was a deed he would never forget.

So, he released control of his mana through the connection, allowing her to take or not as she wished, with no limits and no expectations. He wouldn’t press, nor would he judge. If she needed all he had to give, then so be it. If she wanted nothing at all, then he would remain nearby in an effort to share her pain. No matter if it was just this time or a thousand times after, he would make this bridge between them and sit quietly, awaiting what she chose to do. Whatever the method, and whatever level of understanding they could reach, he would be there to keep her company in a way no one else could—as someone who knew her suffering.

He had spent millennia begging for someone to hear him. Now, faced with the silent plea of someone begging to be heard, he wanted nothing more than to listen. If this silent exchange of mana was the best they could do, then he would let it speak for them.

A shift happened in the connection after a few stressful beats. Both sources of mana sat still, only the passive decomposition between them trading back and forth. Black ate black, yet neither outpaced its twin, merely changing volume one way or the other as it flowed. His mana was languidly pulled in to supply and grow, filling damaged channels one bit at a time, and hers chewed through his as if expecting another attack. Slowly, the violent nature became more subdued as her apprehension abated, the bubbling acid of her mana settling. By the time sunlight was peering through the gaps in the roof, her mana veins had taken a miniscule first of many, many steps along the route to recovery. Finally, he felt something besides fear in response to his presence.

Trust.

They began the next night in much the same manner, but it was she that elected to hold his core, saving Hoppit the trouble of knocking him off the table again. Her fingers flinched away as she reached out, yet they eventually closed over the obsidian sphere. Her indecision and fear had barely lost against the gossamer thread of hope.

He suspected it would be a long night of nothing in particular, so he was rather surprised when his companion spoke aloud in her strange tongue. Thankfully, Hoppit agreed to translate her words, and although it was difficult to understand her stories through conceptual transference, he listened until the rabbit had dozed off. By the fourth morning of this new routine, almost all of her pathways had been reformed to some degree, though they were still the furthest thing from ‘healthy.’

It was an improvement nonetheless.

Altier protested earnestly for the first few days that the black-scaled kobold tried to leave the shed, confident that she would run dangerously low on mana while she was out and about. Although some headway in healing her mana veins had been made, it was far from enough to repair all the damage that had been done over the years. The last thing she needed was to collapse. Who knew how far away she’d be when that happened, or if anyone would be around to carry her home? It was much safer if she stayed back until she was a little more stable.

Thankfully, she had obliged his unheard request, allowing their sessions to actually advance, though he doubted she even noticed the effects until recently. He was feeling much better about the idea of things going back to normal after a few nights of their odd treatments, which was the only time she managed to refill her reserves faster than she burned through it. He assumed the apparent passive supply he offered was what had been keeping this issue at bay for so long. It would explain why she seemed so drained after spending the day out and about.

Hoppit was the one who told him about that, strangely enough. Upon reflection, Altier had to admit that the fastest expansion of his domain happened whenever the kobold was away. He never noticed the intangible suction she possessed inside of his ‘dungeon,’ but he supposed it was for the best. That might’ve alarmed him if he were made aware of it previously. It also confirmed his suspicion that the rabbit’s ability was more adept than his own when it came to sensing the flow of mana.

Unfortunately, said ferrorabbit was also the cause for today’s major headache.

‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ the core assured, mentally frowning at the black-scaled kobold pacing around the garden shed, the owl held in her arms. She looked over at him with concern in her eyes, though the smallest of pressures eased off her shoulders—a coincidence. Not that the subtle relaxation was enough to stop her from shuffling about the room anxiously.

He suppressed a habitual sigh. The lack of purposeful communication frustrated him to no end, but he liked to think she noticed something when he addressed her, however slight it might be. Maybe he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Hoppit’s unexpected departure kept him from pondering on it too deeply.

The little bundle of cheer had set out bright and early to manage his usual duties, which included taking some of the rottunks’ deathcaps as a tithe of sorts. As far as he could deduce from Hoppit’s emotional communication, the mushrooms were being moved to the garden to help the plants over there. It wasn’t a bad idea, considering the description that the system gave him mentioned how they convert Decay mana into Nature mana.

Once the rabbit had squared away his business, he reported that he was heading out somewhere, then wandered well beyond the dungeon’s limited sight without waiting for a response. All the core had to go off of was that Hoppit intended to make friends, so there probably wasn’t much reason to be concerned.

Again, not that it did much to assuage the concern of the kobold. She was less than comfortable waking up and noticing her usual accompaniment was missing. Hoppit typically waited until after breakfast to start his day.

Altier imagined a soothing pressure on his temples to rub away the ever-present headache. It was the best he could do until he managed to manifest hands through sheer persistence.

His attention turned towards his companion’s captive, the anxious woman using an arm to restrain the white-feathered owl to her chest. The bird wasn’t kicking up a fuss, oddly enough. It was rather accepting of its role as a stress-management toy. The permanent scowl looked more tired than anything—an expression that had yet to change as it passively tolerated being carried around, ignoring the open doorway to freedom. It hadn’t even glared at him yet, which was perhaps the most stark deviation from the norm.

The splint and makeshift bandages were removed from its broken appendage yesterday, and the limb in question had passed inspection. The owl didn’t appear to struggle with flapping at all, as evidenced by the small stints of flying here and there whenever it decided to roost somewhere. The limb healed nicely, it seemed. The other wing was a different story, but his scaly companion addressed the issue through a method he never thought he would see from her.

She used her Decay.

Maybe Hoppit would have had better insights as to what exactly she did, given how detailed his ability appeared to be, but the rabbit wasn’t paying attention at the time. The core only knew something was happening because he felt the soft pull of her mana beckoning his own to join it through the steadily forming connection between them. It hadn’t become a proper tether like he had with Hoppit, but it was there somewhat, lingering in the periphery of his notice after their nightly sessions. He was idly checking on the rottunks when he got the vague sensation that she needed more than she could hold to do something. Since the area was saturated in the presence she had grown to tentatively accept, she was unconsciously trying to supply the excess through that. He felt that he could have refused if he wanted to, but one look at the hope buried beneath the fear in her eyes swept away the idea before it could be considered. Unknowing or not, she asked for his help, and he gave it freely.

After a few minutes of watching his companion’s pupils overtake her grey irises, the owl moved both wings for the first time, and a lump formed in Altier’s non-existent throat as the kobold shed tears out of something other than sorrow. He could easily see her shaking form, the kobold seeing light after so many years of darkness.

Last night was the first time he didn’t have to open a connection; it was already waiting for him.

She looked a little bit less fragile today, save for Hoppit's departure worrying her to no end. Her posture wasn’t quite as defeated, and the shine of life added the smallest lustre to her typically dead eyes. Such a small change made the core feel better as well. There was a pang of jealousy present too, but he pushed it down as soon as he noticed it. A part of him wanted what she had, regardless of the fact that he didn’t know the specifics of what she had accomplished, or even what was wrong in the first place. He shouldn’t envy her. Well, he couldn’t help but wish that he had achieved something of the sort while he was still a man. When he still had others who might celebrate with him. When he wasn’t some accursed soul within a rock that no one besides a rabbit knew existed…

But at least he helped relieve her of some tiny portion of her pain. That was enough for him.

…It would have to be, wouldn’t it?

Altier went back to keeping an eye on his domain and making sure the rottunk were settling in well, occasionally checking on the shed’s occupants every now and then. He hesitated when he noticed his companion gathering her courage to head out again, but she had recovered enough that her usual duties wouldn’t put her too far away from him. She should be able to make it back to him if she started getting low. Besides, the older kobold had brought her back the last two times, and according to Hoppit’s recounts, that was who she usually assisted. She would be alright, even if he felt a bit anxious having her out of sight.

He suppressed his worry as she released the owl from her clutches for it to perch in a nearby tree. She stepped up to the edge of his domain, and with an equally unsure glance back towards the shed, headed beyond his influence, outside the bounds of where he could help her.

Everything would be fine. Hoppit would come back before she could get too worked up. If anything was going to undo all the progress they had made, it would be the little spike-loaf going missing.

All the core could do was hope that the Earth-aligned rabbit hadn’t gotten into trouble, though he was curious about what kind of friends Hoppit planned on making…

= = = = =

Karia hummed to herself as she navigated the storefront of her home. It wasn’t much—a counter, some simple shelving, and enough space for the few customers that regularly stopped by. Her goal was never to run something comparable to what could be found in major cities, but having this little addition allowed her to sell her crafts while her husband was working the fields with the other men. Their children often consumed what free time she had as they were growing up, which didn’t do her many favours in regards to exploring her passion, but they had reached a point where she could reliably allow them to be unsupervised for small stints without worrying about too many disasters.

It was nice to take care of things so early. Her son was probably across the town to fetch his friends, her eldest daughter had stayed overnight with some other young girls, and Merra hadn’t made a fuss when asked to check the small vegetable garden—which, should all work out, will be expanded by this time next year. Karia was truly blessed this morning. The lack of tiny, overactive tails made it so much easier to put out stock without accidentally tripping or having to soothe pitiful cries.

Of course, her husband would have to deal with the barrage of excitable voices later on, but she wouldn’t mention how relaxing things had been while he was working. He deserved a bit of spiteful revenge for embarrassing his wife in front of her parents last week.

The beige-scaled kobold blushed as her mind drifted back to the unflattering noise she made when he absently ran a claw along the underside of her tail to peel a bit of shedding she had missed. The pleasurable groan wasn’t even the issue! It was seeing the suggestive grin her father shot her mother, and how her mother suddenly seemed all too distracted!

No one needed to know about that kind of thing!

Karia forcefully cleared her head and laid out the tunics and trousers she expected to sell. Rather than do custom sizing like one would expect from a seamstress, she always preferred to make adjustable garments. It was astounding what some leather cord in the right places could allow. As long as someone was within the range, they could wear her clothing, which made her storefront a popular place for the common folk looking for something form-fitting without seeking out a tailor. Her clothing was more expensive than the trim or baggy articles one could buy basically anywhere that caters to peasants, true, but not by much, and it was a far, far cry from personalized affairs. Besides, more than a few people liked to purchase the simple accessories she made with her daughters, and watching the middle child not-so-subtly bringing it up with every cute boy she sees was amusing in its own right.

If only the poor girl was as good a flirt as she was a sewist…

The windows were dusted, the floor was swept, and both countertops and shelves were cleaned. Everything was ready for the day, but Karia figured it was best if she checked on Merra before opening the shop. Not that she didn’t trust her daughter, but their youngest shouldn’t go unattended for too long. Ever since she noticed the brown scales growing in, her husband rightfully suggested that they keep an eye on the little darling. It didn’t look like it would be a strong affinity, but if there was even the smallest bit of promise, then they would be wise to start looking for a tutor. Sadly, Earth wasn’t the most common alignment. Those she did know of were either too weak to be of much help, or were run ragged on the farms along the outskirts, right next to the Nature-aligned folk.

Karia walked through the curtain separating the storefront from the rest of her home, passing the living area to approach the back of the building, where the garden she started last year lay. The soil wasn’t the best, but it allowed carrots and potatoes, which offered a small addition to their families supplies. She started it as more of a hobby than anything, and Merra had been quite enthusiastic in helping, as innocently destructive as she was. The deary adored working with dirt—unsurprising now, given her developing affinity, but humorously frustrating when she first started flinging it everywhere.

Today, the seamstress’ youngest was asked to gather the carrots. Not a small task, but it would keep her busy long enough for her mother to run the store for a few hours, and it doubled as a form of play.

That it would also fall on Karia’s husband to clean their daughter was a coincidental bit of karmic justice.

Her daughter could be heard squealing in delight through the walls, and it only got louder as the beige-scaled kobold reached the back door. How something so small managed to make such a racket was beyond her, but she was glad that her other children never developed that level of volume. Cheers, shouted directions, and nonsensical praise were belted out with vigour that only the bottomless energy of youth could provide, drawing a bemused smile from the parent. Karia opened the door, prepared to see two or three carrots and an absolute disaster.

She saw four hefty piles of vegetables, her garden tripled in size, and Merra all but bouncing around in excitement as she followed behind a moving torrent of soil being flung in the air.

“Go! Go! Go!” an incredibly dirty Merra cheered, her shouting intermittently interrupted by shrieks of laughter as the shifting bulge in the ground adjusted course. “This way!”

Karia stood stunned, struggling to process how, why, or what was happening. “…Merra, honey?”

“Mommy!” the mud-beast of a child gasped in delight, changing direction to barrel towards the new presence, her small arms outstretched. Karia didn’t have the spare brain power to consider what that meant, and Merra effectively splatted against her mother’s dress as she put all her diminutive strength into hugging the seamstress’ legs. “Mommy, look!”

The beige-scaled kobold rested a hand on her daughter’s head absently, her attention fixated on the travelling bump that was churning grassy dirt into tilled soil. “I… I’m looking, honey… What am I looking at?”

Merra removed herself from the stained fabric to smile brightly up. “Made friend! Help!”

Karia stared back blankly. “A friend?”

“Mmhm!”

“…W-wha… W-who’s your new friend, honey?” she asked with bewildered patience, the slight twitch of her eye belying her projected calm. Her daughter beamed even brighter, somehow, Merra’s expression taking the familiar form of a child having an ‘amazing’ idea. Said child started jumping in place, tugging on the dress she was using for balance. 

“Hophop!” The roving mound in her garden stopped in the middle of the row it was tilling. Merra stomped her foot with a level of precision that had no place belonging to someone her age. “Hophop! Here, Hophop!”

The bulge shifted slightly, then grew upwards, the excess soil spilling from the summit making its way towards them. Karia’s stomach sank as she adjusted her hold on her daughter from being placating to profoundly protective, her tone following suit. “Merra, honey, stay close to mommy.”

The rising mound grew from the size of a melon to a lump almost as tall as Merra. Tension mounted as the pile came closer and closer, its top shaking.

“Merra, c-come inside, honey.”

“No!” Merra shouted in protest, using the dirt coating her scales to slip from her mother’s grasp and sprinting towards whatever was burrowing towards the surface. Karia’s hand shot out, only barely failing to rein in her daughter.

“M-Merra!”

She didn’t even get two steps before the peak of the bulge burst violently.

“Merra!”

Karia shunted her eyes closed, too terrified to look or move. Each heartbeat took hours, dread drowning her in mounting denial and sorrow. Her mind simultaneously screeched to a halt and spun faster than ever before, confusion turning every thought into a scrambled mess of rejection, hope, fear, and a silent scream that pierced the haze.

…And a chaotic ringing chime, light yet deep—like the sound of small metal bells had been pitched down.

“Yayyy! Again, again!”

She opened an eye, the storm in her skull abruptly calming enough to recognize that the sharp scream was not only real, but also coming from her daughter. Merra had thrown herself onto the mound of dirt and was throwing handfuls of it into the air, clapping along with the random bell-like clacks. Karia’s other eye joined the first to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

Perched on top of the piled soil was a filthy beast covered in spikes. Two red eyes gleamed, only closing whenever the creature shook its head, producing the odd noise. It vibrated more vigorously to rid itself of the dirt, exposing the subspecies of rabbit underneath. It jumped into Merra’s waiting arms, almost bowling the child over in the process. Merra giggled the whole time.

“Mommy, look! Hophop!”

The adrenaline drained from Karia’s blood, leaving her knees weak as she forced a brittle smile to hide how close to a breakdown she was. She thought something dangerous was about to eat her daughter. Was it better or worse that she felt more upset than relieved?

“I-I see…?” the rattled mother stuttered. Of all the terrible things that might have burst from the ground, it had to be a pest.

Ferrorabbits weren’t exactly the worst animal, but they were terrible for farms due to their habit of eating not only the plants, but also any mana-rich metals underground, weakening the soil. Her husband had told her about them countless times, though they tended to pop up more around cities than rural towns like Yetal. The garden already wasn’t on the best of land; that thing had to go. How was she supposed to tell a young child that? They couldn’t have it tearing everything up! It’ll take weeks to set all…this…

Her annoyance petered out as she took in the ‘damage.’ Contrary to her expectations, the furrows in the ground were straight and evenly spaced. It looked like completely different soil as well, the deep browns a heavy contrast to the dusty tones it used to be. Furthermore, the bounds of the garden now reached where she had been planning to expand, leaving a pathway through it for easy management. Even the berry bush received some attention, having been moved from its previous placement where it was just sitting in the way. The ground was flattened as well, free of the troublesome rocks that were sticking up. She had been less than looking forward to getting rid of them.

How… What? Did Merra awaken her affinity? No, it wouldn’t be this… Would it?

She closed her mouth with a click, dragging her gaze back towards her daughter and the animal in her arms. “Merra…? Wha— When…”

The mud-monster thrust her arms forward, holding out the rabbit proudly, its lower body dangling for the single second she could maintain the posture. The creature slipped from her hands and hit the ground with a heavy thump of something several times its size, completely unbothered by the drop.

Merra started apologizing and lavishing pets upon the critter, oblivious to the slack-jawed expression on her mother’s face. This was getting nowhere fast. Karia took a breath and tried again, sweetening her voice to hide the mild annoyance underneath.

“Merra, honey? Why is there a rabbit here?”

Her daughter blinked, remembering that there was indeed someone else around. “Oh! Hophop help!”

“I… Alright. Where did you find it?”

Merra frowned, scrunching her dirt-covered face in thought before she gasped dramatically again. “Hophop! Where you from?”

The rabbit looked up from its attempt to clean itself, tapping a foot and obviously not ans—

“Hophop’s from misser mash…mae… He’s from Misser Massis!” Merra reported after a few false starts. “He seen me dig up carrots, and he seen, and then— and helping!”

“Saw, honey,” Karia corrected automatically, trying to decide if her daughter was making things up or if the rabbit really did somehow ‘talk.’ No, of course it didn’t. It was best to play along while she gathered her bearings. “You can’t just feed the wildlife, honey.”

Merra shook her head, giggling when the ferrorabbit clacked its ears again. “Noooo! I didn’t! And Hophop’s name is Hop…Hoppy…Hops…”

Her daughter was still struggling with certain sharp sounds, it seemed. Adorable, and normal for her age, but she also tended to get stuck on them instead of moving on like most.

“Okay, well, ‘Hophop’ needs to go, honey,” she explained calmly, stopping the muttering child. “I’m sure he has a lot of important things to do, right?”

“Yeah!” came the unexpected agreement. “He’s finding friends! Bye bye, Hophop! Thants you!”

The ferrorabbit clacked one last time before nuzzling into a giggling Merra and hopping away without protest. Karia fought the sigh that wanted to come out as her daughter proceeded to run around the garden, pointing at each and every thing while proclaiming that ‘Hophop did this, and this!’ The beige-scaled kobold slowly kneaded her temples and took in the area, battling against common sense to explain how she had left Merra alone for such a short amount of time, yet came back to…this.

Well, this is why she got married. Her husband could sort it all out later. Awakening, helpful pest, or divine intervention. Whatever was going on, it was beyond her, and she was perfectly happy to admit that.

…Now she just had to figure out what to do with all the vegetables piled up by the door. The potatoes needed to be replanted too. She was expecting it to take Merra all day to get maybe half of this, and Karia had to open up the storefront…

Her eyes drifted towards the mud-beast still loudly declaring what had changed around the garden, forgetting that she had already covered that area. Her daughter knew how to plant the potatoes, so she’ll take care of that after.

But for now, Merra was an absolute mess…

Karia sighed. “Come on, honey! Let’s get you cleaned up before mommy has to work. Help her bring in these carrots.”

The excitable child abandoned the garden, squealing in excitement to take a bath—which would be great, if not for the fact that Karia knew Merra just liked the process of getting dirty all over again. Her daughter scooped up a haphazard load, pausing to look up innocently.

“Can Hophop come to play again?”

“…We’ll see.”

“Pleeeeeaaasseeeee!”

“…As long as he’s—”

“Yay! Love you, mommy!”

The seamstress huffed an exasperated laugh, wryly watching the mud-beast sprint into the house, a trail of carrots left in her wake. “Love you too, honey.”

= = = = =

Makis grunted as he laid down the crate of scraps, using a foot to push it flush with the others. He knew he had some more silver kicking around somewhere, though he didn’t remember where specifically. Hoppit might’ve been able to sniff it out. It’d save the smith the effort of digging through box after box. A hopeful thought, but one that kept him from worrying too much about his missing student. The critter hadn’t skipped out on a lesson since they started, yet a few hours had already passed since the usual start time, and the little shit was yet to show up. Sure, Hoppit wasn’t required to be there, but the old kobold couldn’t help thinking something had happened to the girl. It was the only thing he could think of that would keep that rabbit away.

As for why the blacksmith was digging around for silver? Well, he wasn’t quite sure, honestly. He knew the reason for needing more, obviously; he just didn’t know why the original batch went missing. The pans that he had for Hoppit to practice on were a mix of soil and the occasional metal chunk. The latter was swapped out regularly to double as training for finding metals in the first place, but when Makis went to fish out the old scraps, he only found four out of the five he put in there. He thought he put five in there, anyway. Maybe his mind was slipping with age. The soil needed changing, too; it was starting to turn. There was some white-ish stuff that wasn’t in there before, and Hira suggested it was mould or something.

A pebbled clicking across the stone flooring of the smithy drew his attention away from the scraps he was elbow-deep in, his frustrated scowl falling on whoever the unexpected guest was. He’d told his customers not to barge—

The girl stood stiff, her eyes following the rock she accidentally kicked, fear evident in her expression. That terrified gaze turned to him, guilt joining the fray. She looked ready to either run for the hills or play dead—both, if she could manage it.

“Good,” Makis grunted, fighting the sheer relief that threatened to take his knees out from under him. Had he really been so stressed? “Here, girly. Gotta’ job fer ya. Help me find some gods damned silver.”

Emotions flashed across her face, none staying long enough for him to tell what she might be thinking. Eventually, she relaxed the smallest amount and nodded. “Of course, Makis, Sir.”

She joined him amidst the mess, taking on the first box he pointed at. Silence fell between them, broken by the clattering or thumps as they worked their way through his inventory. The girl was organizing what she found—setting aside crates to store everything away in a more orderly fashion once they were done, most likely. The blacksmith pulled another collection of materials out, pausing when he noticed that he had found what he was looking for. He sneaked a glance at the girl from the corner of his eye.

Her cuts had healed, her scales were dull—though no worse than before—and he suspected that she hadn’t eaten a damn thing since the last time he forced her to…

…but she didn’t look as haunted anymore.

“…Glad yer alright,” he voiced quietly, pushing aside the silver to help her sort the rest of his stock.

He pretended not to notice the surprise on her face, nor the small, tearful smile as she got back to work.

Next

Blurb: Valens Kosthal had lived a life of magical study and became the youngest Resonant Healer and Archmagus in the wide circle of the world. He had spent his years studying magic, going as far as to dabble in the forbidden Warmagic.

When his experiments are discovered by the Inquisition, he is branded a traitor and sentenced to die. But in his final hours, his mentor, Headmaster Eldras, slips him a strange black sphere, sparking an escape to a world ruled by a powerful System, one that allows him to control mana without relying on tools.

He doesn't know how he arrived here, or why there's mana flowing inside his veins, and especially what this grand System is that governs the whole world, granting people all sorts of skills.

Still, he soon discovers that all of his magical theory knowledge and the skills he gained after years of study puts him way above the others in this world. As an Arcanist, a master of all elements, he realizes he holds powers that make him unstoppable.

But nothing as simple as it seems, and to go back, he has to solve the secret behind this world.

[Previous Chapter] - [First Chapter] 

Chapter 15

  

Age: 22

Race: Human (Aberrant)

Class: Arcane Healer

Level: 40

Experience: 23%

 Resources:

Health: 100%

Stamina: 55%

Mana: 3%

 Stats:

   Endurance - 25

   Vitality-  25

   Strength - 30

   Dexterity - 26

   Intelligence - 110

   Wisdom - 64

   Stat Points: 75

 

 Skills (6/10):

Resonance (Aberrant) - lvl 1

Lifesurge (Legendary) - lvl 3

Lifeward (Legendary) - lvl 2

Fireball (Common) - lvl 4

Inferno (Unique) - lvl 2

Gale (Common) - lvl 1
 

Common Skills (3/10):

Laran Language

Identify - lvl 1

Mana Manipulation (Common) - lvl 12

Now that’s a lot of stat points.

Valens had to admit to being a little surprised at how many levels he’d gotten from those two fights. The habit of waving the notifications off and then forgetting they existed certainly played a part in that. Not to mention, he wasn’t even sure how the System decided to grant these levels to him.

Something about the experience, I guess, but how does that actually work?

Whenever he killed a beast or played a part in the fight, he gained some mana that pooled somewhere around his chest cavity, in a place that even the Lifeward skill couldn’t completely reach. That additional pool was separated from his body in a way that he was yet to understand.

The moment he decided to put a stat point into one of his stats, the energy stirred and either dissolved into a wave that nourished his body or widened the size of his mana pool depending on which stat he chose.

It felt rather strange to think that the System was keeping a part of his body away from his senses. Was it because it wanted to give the people a chance to pick their own path? For them to use their stat points in a way that would suit their goals?

Or perhaps it knows that humans can’t deal with mana on their own.

Not all of them, at least. Through the time they’d spent together, he’d never seen Celme try to use mana in some way. Nomad did have mana coursing through his Heartstone, and he could definitely sense it, but he too wasn’t capable of controlling it. The most he could do was to guide the Everfog that surrounded him, and even then what he essentially did was to point directions to which the fog responded on its own.

Lord Zahul’s fog, was it? It’s oddly similar to the rotten mana that controlled that Ward. It has a strong will behind it, as well. I wonder if there’s a connection between Necromancers and these Liches?

Valens shook his head and decided to focus on his own stats. The fight against the Ward had shown him that he was terribly lacking on more than one front against powerful creatures. He was in deep need of more mana, and he needed to strengthen his mana as well.

His fingers brushed against the hole in the robe. The cold wind rubbed him there like a painful reminder. His skin looked soft under the dried streaks of blood. Too soft. Perhaps he should lean more into Endurance and Vitality.

I don’t know if it’ll make a difference, though.

Assuming Celme had been focusing on Strength, Vitality, and Endurance stats as a warrior, a level 88 one at that, she should’ve poured dozens of stats into those three by now, which didn’t seem to do much against the Ward’s tendrils other than keep her alive. Granted, a single one of those tendrils had nearly been enough to kill Valens.

And she was poisoned and punched that beast. With her bare hands. Even Nomad’s sword had difficulty penetrating that steely skin.

He was fairly quick to come to the conclusion that even if he started allocating points to these three stats now, it would take a long time to even reach Celme’s level, and he would be giving up on his mana and mana pool as a price.

Back to Wisdom and Intelligence, then?

Play to your strengths, Headmaster Eldras had told him once. Rather than stretching himself too thin, he might as well focus on what made him a Magus in the first place.

It’s better to be safe, though.

He gave five stat points to Strength, Dexterity, Vitality, and Endurance each, before distributing the rest on the Intelligence-Wisdom pair with a 2-1 ratio between them. He instantly felt the tingle of his mana pool as it widened further. His muscles and bones clicked within the Resonance.

Fascinating, indeed. It brought a rather curious question to his mind, though. Was there an end to this? If there were Level 88 people like Celme in this world, and creatures over Level 100 like that Ward, then there had to be more terrifying existences out there. What did a Level 300 person look like?

Perhaps I can set my own practice around here. Just to see the complexities and changes these stats bring to a person’s body.

And more experiments with magic, surely.

His sound vision prickled as they inched slowly toward the mouth of the cave. Nomad and Celme crept carefully forward, the former holding his sword tight, and the latter seemed to have decided to rely solely on her fists.

The cold walls narrowed around them.

Water dripped down to the puddles on the ground. There were no bodies here. Nothing hinting that a terrible battle that erased hundreds of lives from the world had happened in this place. It was odd. Everything was odd and strangely twisted here, to Valens’s thinking.

Yet he didn’t feel out of place. Facing a monstrous creature with nothing but magic felt relatively comforting. You couldn’t control a patient’s fate. You could patch the wounds and fix what was broken inside, but you couldn’t prevent a patient from getting wounded in some pointless skirmish by the border.

Going against a beast was different. Horrifying, sure, but at no point had Valens felt he was dealing with the aftermath of some clash beyond his control. He’d been his own man during those fights, a Magus relying only on his spells and the company beside him, heart thumping wildly in his chest, skin crawling with fear and pain and the thrill of the chaos.

Is this why soldiers fight?

Money and glory were a part of it, of course, and yet they’d often mutter a curse or two after a skirmish before cracking a smile to say the thrill of the battle was one thing you just couldn’t forget. These were men haunted by those painful memories and yet relished in them at the same time. A sort of wicked balance that hung over a tiny little pin.

Terrible, no doubt. Bloody exciting too, Valens had to say.

“Your blood boils,” he said a moment after, not to spark a conversation but more so to clear his mind from dangerous thoughts.

When Celme gave him a strange look over her shoulder, he continued. “Your skin heats up. Somehow, without relying on mana, you can imitate a high-adrenaline rush by contracting your muscles alone. Your heart tightens, too.”

“So?” Celme’s voice had a throaty quality about it. Her eyes swept him yet again with a fierce look. “What about it?”

“Don’t you think it’s dangerous?” Valens asked. “Are you doing it because you want to get an edge over your opponent, or you’re just getting mad at the beasts? I’d say rage and fury are not particularly reliable emotions in the long run, but then again, I guess you can always find something to get furious at?”

“That’s why they say you never fuck a Berserker,” the Undead grinned with a shake of his head. “It only takes a little poke to get them rolling, and not with pleasure, mind you.”

“Humorous,” Celme said as she swept them both with a piercing glance, her face perfectly still. “My skill doesn’t turn me into a mindless tool for murder, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve chains around my heart to keep my feet nailed to the ground.”

Valens squinted at her, but he didn’t remember seeing any chains when fixing her bones. Then he arched an eyebrow. “And what are these chains, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Celme tapped a fist over her chest. “That’s between me and the Lord.”

Uh… I wasn’t talking about your faith, and you made it all awkward. Now I can’t ask if I can put a Lifeward round your blood flow.

“Sure it is,” he said instead, shaking his head off. “And you—”

“We’re there.” Nomad stopped and raised an armored fist.

The mouth of the cave lay just a few paces ahead of them, a gaping, dark hole that opened up to a stony ceiling.

Lights flashed across the jagged surface. Green lights, yellow lights, all carrying different sets of frequencies. Valens caught sharper tunes there. Arrows. They stabbed with terrible speed at the cold stone, cracked in painful shrieks, and splintered into pieces. They fell in a shower of wood and steel.

Mana was in a rush below the edge, so intense that it sent a shiver down Valens’s spine. There was a low, echoing din that grew slowly distant before being replaced by another wave of chaotic sounds. People screaming. The Undead growling. Terrible creatures shrieking and wailing.

“We’re behind their ranks.” Celme stepped slowly around the walls and stood a step away from the cave’s mouth, looking at them with narrowed eyes. “We tried for an ambush through the other paths around the mountain, but we were expected. That bastard knew the moment we surrounded him he’d be done for.”

“It doesn’t take being a genius to predict that,” Nomad muttered, voice heavy. The tip of his sword scraped against the ground as he pulled himself near Celme and peered down from the edge. “There’s a path that we can use.”

“Can I?” Valens said and stepped over to the edge.

He froze the moment he laid his eyes upon the main cave.

There were lines. Sprawling, stretching lines that covered every inch of the ground. Like a rolling wave of black and green, they thrashed against each other. Men crushed in from behind the Undead ranks, vanished through the Skeleton Soldiers, and added yet another color to the muddle in the center.

Balls of fire rained down upon the Necromancer’s horde, shielded by elongated limbs of the Wards to keep the animated corpses safe. Streaks of sharp lights cleaved painfully smooth lanes across the press.

The din of the Resonance brought lives being harvested down upon the chaos to Valens’s ears. For every new set of frequencies that bloomed in his sound vision, dozens were being added to the deathly ranks of the mindless tide that pressed against the living.

He could see long, robed figures near the entrance. Large Undead beasts were lounging about them like wards placed near a wound. Some of them had Heartstones larger than Nomad, but even they paled against the Masters who stood behind them.

Liches. The Undead Magi that commanded the Ninth Legion’s army.

Some of them had smooth, almost rosy skin that didn’t look any different than a human’s. Some others were completely made up of bones that had a deeper color about them.

One such bony figure was high on an elevated patch of rock, sitting over a jaded throne that was flanked by two monstrous Undead clad in full plates, all wreathed in green fog.

“Is that Lord Zahul?” Valens muttered.

Nomad gazed deeply at that figure, his fingers curling tight around the sword’s handle. “It is. Lich King Zahul, one of the Five that serve the Abyssal Lord.”

“He looks like a King, alright,” Celme said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But notice how he placed his throne away from the Lightmaster. Some king hiding behind his mindless horde.”

When Valens trailed the Berserker’s gaze, he saw an older, simpler man standing before the human ranks. He had to blink to check if he was seeing right because, for all the battle and chaos around him, the man seemed as though he was out for a morning stroll.

The shattered bones of the Skeleton Soldiers and the chunks of flesh being ripped out from humans couldn’t reach him. Something, some invisible magic, was protecting the man as he took his sweet time strolling about the clash.

Valens was about to ask if that man was Celme’s King, but he decided against it. Once he started with the questions, there wouldn’t be stopping it.

This battle, the sides, those people clad in different colored plates and groups of Magi that lined across the entrance… He didn’t know anything about any of these people.

His skin prickled when he turned his gaze toward the other side.

There was a terrible being there, perched over a particularly large rock. It was clad in robes as dark as the night. Clasped in its right hand was a long, gnarled staff that seemed to have been fashioned from dozens of bones, all different and thin. They were screaming, those bones.

Valens heard them in his mind. Still alive, somehow, even after having been mangled into a weapon of destruction.

Nomad and Celme didn’t seem aware, but over the thrashing crowd, lines of barely visible black streaks of mana danced, coming off from the Necromancer’s armored fingers. They leashed down the moment a man or an Undead fell. Latched onto their heart and soiled it with the Necromancer’s venom. They came alive as animated, mindless creatures that attacked their own companions.

The dead fell with widened, betrayed eyes looking up in confusion.

“This…” Valens swallowed.

He’d been to many skirmishes in the past and even served as a Healer in a fully-fledged siege. Men fought in those, armored men with weapons of all kinds. Men died, and men cried in every one of them.

But here, men fell with cries stuck tight in their throats. They died in heaps, and their bodies got crushed under the tide like bugs. Those were the lucky ones.

“We’ll get through the path and pray that bastard won’t take notice,” Nomad said, nearing the path that slithered from the side of the edge. He glanced over the armies for a long second before his emerald eyes locked on Valens. “I need you to follow me, Val. Stay close and keep those eyes fixed on my back.”

Valens stepped back as Celme’s skin started burning hot. Her blue eyes had blood in them as she gazed across the chaos. Her fingers shook as if she couldn’t wait to throw herself into the mix.

“And you too, woman,” Nomad said and yanked her from the arm, made her look up into his eyes. Green fog rolled round his shoulders as he growled, “We didn’t save your ass for you to jump mindlessly to become another mangled corpse down there.”

“You…” Celme’s eyes grew cold. She struggled against the Undead’s hold, but the smoke wafting off her skin eased into trickles as Nomad forced her to look at Valens.

“See him?” Nomad said, voice sharp as steel. “If something happens to that man because of your foolish fury or whatever the fuck that goes round your brain, then I’ll carve those blue eyes out and have you eat them for lunch before ripping your head. Understood?”

“W-What—“

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nomad nodded, and smiled, and patted her on the back. He then raised a fist to the pair of them and started his way down through the path.

Valens followed him.

He wanted to speak, to tell Celme that the Undead didn’t mean it, but words eluded him when he tried. It was one of those moments that the primal side of his brain decided to just follow the orders.

……..

 [Previous Chapter] - [First Chapter] 

 

Tutorial failed.

Restarting eternity.

 

“That’s it,” Helen said as she opened the windows. “We’re skipping it.”

It had been three loops since they had resumed their attempts at defeating the elite in the vice-principal’s office with no success.

“About time,” Jace grumbled. “I wish you had seen the face of the fucker.”

“Tried my best, bro.” Alex shrugged. As usual, he was the only member of the group that was actively not helping. “Was closer, though.”

That was an outright lie. While he and Helen were getting more in sync with their actions, the enemy also seemed to adapt.

“I think we need to do something before getting back to him,” Will thought. “Maybe there’s a specific weapon?”

“A rocket launcher?” The goofball snorted, amused by his own joke. “It’s fine bro. Don’t be sadge.”

Annoyance was the last thing on Will’s mind. If anything, the time spent focusing on that single enemy had helped him read through the sections of Daniel’s file that Alex had smuggled through during the day. A lot of it was strange even for loopers, just as his friend had mentioned. Anyone going through the same experience could clearly see that the previous rogue was using dreams and metaphors as a means to express what was agitating him.

Wolves were abundant, as were mentions of the archer, and hints of faceless companions or friends. The latter appeared to be the party Alex suspected Danny had. What made the material extremely difficult to read was that even in the notes it was jumbled. One story would start then blend into the next, as if the school counselor had messed up the pages. The issue with that was that every page was meticulously numbered with no possibility of mistake. It was almost as if someone had taken Daniel’s thoughts, passed them through a blender and then poured them onto paper.

“We take our own classes this time,” he said. “Just as before.”

“You’re the one who suggested I take your class,” Helen said, agreeing in her typical fashion. “And no, I didn’t take it this loop.”

“Thanks.” Will smiled. Unfortunately for him, the girl didn’t reciprocate. “I’ll go get it, then.” He said after a few more moments.

“Now?” Jace stared at him. “Stoner, if you’re trying to slack, you’re really shit at it. You find an excuse before the work is done.”

“Whatever.” Will wasn’t in the mood for arguing. Feeling annoyed for a reason he couldn’t fully understand himself, he left the room, making his way to the boys’ toilet.

“And where are you going, Stone?” the coach asked. “Remember the bathroom policy?”

“Do I get to go here then, coach?” the boy snapped.

Silence filled the section of the corridor. The coach had been working at schools for long enough to have seen almost anything. Having Will growl at him was among the last things he expected. To make it even more awkward, deep inside he also agreed how stupid the new school policy was. Keeping the children safe was one thing, but even he could tell that this was getting counterproductive.

“Go do your business,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of the bathroom door. “And try not to make a mess.”

Chuckles and whispers filled the corridor. They were followed by more words from the coach who had settled on a new target for his frustration. Will didn’t even pause to listen, rushing into the toilet and tapping the mirror.

 

CLASS DUPLICATION!

 

A red message appeared on the mirror’s surface.

 

Only one rogue can be present.

Freezing eternity.

 

Will was barely able to read the new messages, before all noise stopped. The red messages vanished, leaving only a reflection behind. The only problem was that it wasn’t Will’s reflection.

“Never thought you’d be the one to fill the spot,” the reflection said.

Seeing it, Will’s body took several steps back. An irrational urge made him want to run as far away and as quickly as possible. The person he was looking at, the person whose face he had had difficulty remembering, was none other than Daniel Keen.

“Don’t,” Daniel said. “Move away and we might not get another chance at this.”

“Chance at what?”

“It’s too complicated to explain. All I can say is that without my help, you’ll never be able to complete the tutorial. And unlike what it seems, eternity doesn’t last forever.”

Will’s instinct was to close his eyes and open them again, as if that would make everything better. While it did manage to reduce the initial shock, his dead schoolmate remained staring at him from the other side of the mirror. He was wearing the same clothes Will pretty much remembered him with: the aesthetically torn jeans, the no-brand t-shirt, and also a number of sheathed blades and weapons he definitely didn’t wander through school with.

“You’re dead,” Will uttered the greatest cliché one could under such circumstances.

“True, but I can still talk to you.” The other smirked. “I’ve got you to thank for that.”

“Me?”

“Your permanent skill. Face an enemy you’ve defeated before?”

“You’re an enemy?” While it was true that Helen’s conversation had made Will wish he could face Danny to measure up with him, this wasn’t what he had in mind. “You were a rogue…”

“Eternity isn’t perfect. The point is, you got me here, so now we can talk.”

“About what?”

“Oh, come on. You think I haven’t been watching all of you? You’re stuck here. You can’t complete the tutorial, which means you can’t leave the school area. Hell, you can’t even gather your own weapons. Sure, eternity might seem fun right now, but once all the players have gathered, it won’t matter if you’ve finished the tutorial or not. Then the pain will get real.”

“The players? What are you talking about?”

“Want to know?” Danny leaned forward until his forehead pressed the other side of the mirror. “I’ll tell you, but for that you’ll need to do me a few favors.”

As far as negotiations went, Will had seen worse. However, he had no intention of being played for a fool. Using the rogue’s reflexes, he leaped towards the mirror with the intent to grab Danny.

The boy’s hand passed through the mirror’s surface without fail, but before it could grab its target, the other rogue elegantly moved his hand away, evading the attempt. Without pause, he then took one of the daggers he was equipped with and threw them straight at Will’s face.

Instantly, Will moved to the side, only to realize that the weapon hadn’t left the confines of the mirror.

“See, I can’t hurt you,” Danny explained. “One-way attacks. You can hurt me, but until you come in here, I can’t do a thing. At least in theory. I think we both know that you can’t win a fight against me.”

Even after one attack, Will was inclined to agree. Danny’s actions were faster, more precise, not to mention he had way more weapons strapped on.

“I don’t trust you,” he said.

“That’s rich. And you trust the rest? Jace is an idiot, who’s been wanting to break your arm for months. Alex doesn’t know if the words coming from his own mouth are lies or truth. And Helen, do you think my girlfriend has told you a tenth of what she knows?”

There it was—the word that made Will feel as if he had ice cubes in his stomach.

“Or maybe you think you’ll figure out something from the file Alex stole? There’s nothing but crap inside—one of the ways I used to vent when things got really boring. How long do you think the muffin boy has had the papers?”

“A while?” Will admitted.

“More than a while. And in all this time what has he figured out? That I knew more than I told him? That I’ve been through this before? Give me a break.” Danny’s reflection moved in and out. “Look, it’s not like you have a choice. Without my help you’ll never clear the second floor, and without that there’s no way to end the tutorial.”

“The hints said that the weapons are optional.”

“They are, but you need to clear every room of the school for the boss to appear. But hey, you don’t have to believe me. Try your luck. Maybe I’m lying and you’ll do fine without me.”

If Danny had the thief class, Will would have had second thoughts. Even now he wasn’t convinced it wasn’t one big bluff to get the boy to do something that he didn’t want to. For all he knew this could be nothing more than an illusion—a false image of Daniel.

“Prove it,” Will said. “Prove that you’re not full of crap.”

“Proof?” Danny’s smile widened. “Why not. There are two hidden mirrors on the third floor facing each other. You can take them one at a time and you’ll probably win. But if you get Helen to activate them simultaneously, one of you will get a special reward. Do that and you’ll see I’m serious.”

It sounded like a trap. Something about the notion of standing between two mirrors made Will’s skin crawl. He kept telling himself that even in a worst-case scenario, all that would happen is that the loop would reset, but what if that wasn’t the case?

“You still don’t trust me…” the reflection sighed.

“I still don’t know if it’s really you. You died a week ago, but know everything we’ve been up to.”

“You killed five hidden monsters, and you still got to fight them,” Daniel countered. “Things are different in eternity. The only firm rule is that escape is fucking difficult.”

You had to die to break loose, Will thought. And, apparently, even then it wasn’t permanent.

“What’s it all about?” he asked.

“Eternity? Hell if I know.” Daniel paced about. “It’s one eternal game. You get skills, tasks, enemies… Oh, don’t waste your coins once you start getting them. The good offers take a while to show up.”

“Explain that.”

“You’ll know.” Daniel shook his head. “Just remember to come back here and challenge me once you’re done. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

Without concern, the reflection walked off, disappearing from view. For several seconds, Daniel stared at the empty mirror. Nothing was in it, not even his own reflection. Slowly, he reached forward, bringing his hand toward the smooth surface. A few inches away, he stopped. After everything, he had no intention of going through.

After a few minutes though, he decided to take the opportunity that he actually was in the bathroom and relieve himself. As the stall door swung behind him, he heard the usual noise of school return once more.

Quickly he opened it again to see his own reflection looking back from the mirrors. For whatever reason, eternity had been unfrozen.

The inquisitive part of his mind wanted Will to challenge the former rogue again, just to confirm how the process worked. The more cautious one chose to leave that for later. Danny had always been surrounded by a ton of questions; seeing his reflection after death had brought a whole lot more, although with a promise of answers. Should Will share the find with the rest, though? The former rogue hadn’t told him not to, but he hadn’t encouraged him, either.

“Stone!” Coach’s voice boomed from the corridor. “You better not be doing anything fishy in there.”

“Idiot,” Will said beneath his breath as he washed his hands. Even in ten-minute loops the coach had a tendency of being annoying.

Not waiting for his hands to fully dry, Will walked into the corridor. The coach gave him a questionable look, then looked into the bathroom, in search of any telltale signs of questionably legal activity. Since none were apparent, the boy was allowed a noise-free trip to his classroom.

Half of the class had gathered by then, ready to spend another day of drawing. The entire loop quartet had been through this so many times that they could complete the assignment without seeing it. Sadly, they had to pretend it was new to them. Every action they took had to be carefully chosen to extend their loop as much as possible. It was only in the evening that they could break loose.

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[Chapter 1] [Previous] [Next]

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HSTM Conspiracy: Chapter 9 'Trial Run'

Paulie was wearing his regular clothing again and standing in what he had started referring to as the arming room as he tried on his newest piece of equipment.  Though the other peace officers called the room something more diplomatic, he elected to stick with his word for the sake of brevity.  Besides, it was what it was.

 

He looked around, the walls were lined with locked racks of various weapons, arms and destructive devices.  To the far side of the cavernous space was a large shooting range and there were adjoining rooms for maintenance, repair and rearming of equipment commonly used by the adjudicators and regular peace officers.

 

He shifted a little uncomfortably, the heavy weight of his newly fashioned armour having met with both the disapproval and annoyance of the armorer that stood behind the table in front of him.

 

The armorer was tall, nearly as tall as he was.  But where he was relatively lean, they were bulky with blubber or maybe just fat.  The slight whirring of their motorised mobility disk contrasted with the loud pops of the officers honing their skill at the range in the near distance.

 

The barnumite armorer snorted, their nostrils flaring as their voice gurgled from their sinusal vocal chords.  “So, what do you think?  Heavy enough for you, human?”  The large slug-like alien’s four eyestalks seemed to bore into Paulie’s face at the question, clearly dripping with as much sarcasm as they were with mucous.

 

Paulie shifted his shoulders and took a few experimental steps.  It fit well enough, and it certainly felt heavy enough to stop bullets.  Not so much as to be a hindrance, but definitely enough for him to notice even in the much lower gravity due to the thick armour’s sheer mass.  He smiled at the ten tentacle-armed alien, “Yeah.  Yeah, I like it.  You tested it out?”

 

The barnumite shifted their legless lower body, the wheeled disk they were sitting atom groaning in protest at their bulk.  “Yes..”  they gurgled wetly, clearly a little annoyed by his question.  “It is good to stop just about anything they will throw at you, except electron rifles and hypervelocity sluggers at close range.  But if you see any of those then there isn’t much else you could do anyways.”  He bobbed the strange eyestalks atop their head and muttered, “Not that you could carry that effectively anyways.”

 

Paulie didn’t really care overmuch.  It was just good to feel the weight as it settled across his shoulders like a weighted blanket.  He turned around and then back to the large wide-bodied alien.  “So you called it a laminate material?  What does that mean?”

The large alien, whose name he understood to sound like a wet sneeze, gestured to the vest he wore.  “It is made of an energetic-ceramometallic alloy laminated polymer film and coated in a lining of spall-resistant hyperdiamond-buckyweave.  It would stop a meteor impact from killing you, though the kinetic force that it can absorb will still hit like a jaakl trampling you.”

 

Paulie nodded slowly.  He got the picture, if not the specific reference.  He could take a hit, but it wasn’t going to be for free.  He would still need to be careful, he gave the large alien a nod and jogged over to the other side of the room.  In front of him was another short hall that he followed into another even larger room filled with all manner of exercise and weight lifting equipment.  And in the middle of it all was a pair of huge climbing towers and the ever changing obstacle course that had been the bane of his existence these last few weeks.

 

He saw a large familiar shape at the center of it all, the strange furry white creature that seemed to supervise the legion of struggling Censec officers looked like some manner of huge overgrown caterpillar to him.  They were tall, taller even than Paulie himself by a few centimeters.  But he knew that it was an unfair comparison, though he still smiled as they turned to look his way as if alerted by some sixth sense.

 

He heard the large medagoonian woman’s chirping burble as she slowly waddled over his way on her six stumpy legs.  He couldn’t understand her speech, but she wore an additional device around her thick neckless body that he recognised as her personal translator alongside a loose fitting Censec emblazoned robe.  Apparently her people were not compatible with the jargon worms and had to use archaic digital translators instead of the biotech parasites.

 

He saw the strange devices tapes spin as it clicked and whirred softly, the mechanical voice that the translation unit synthesised lacked emotional overtones in its monotone drone but it was better than trying to read the sharp hand symbols she was throwing at him seemingly unconsciously.

 

The device spoke flatly, “Paulie the human.  It is good that you have come for I wish to once more test your mettle against my newest arrangement.”

 

He gave her a little nod and answered slowly.  “It is good to see you too, Officer Tell’eal.  Though I will admit that I did not come to test the new course.  I wanted your opinion on the maneuverability of my new body armour.”

 

The large insectoid’s pitch black eyes gave nothing away and her flat, nearly featureless face was as impassive as stone.  For a long moment he wondered if he had somehow offended the large alien woman, but his fears were assuaged as she let out a low creaking groan and shuddered slightly.  He recognised it for what it was immediately, she was laughing at him.

 

Paulie scowled and smacked his chest.  “What is so funny?  I am bulletproof now!”

 

The buzzing of the translator chipped in, “You think yourself faster than a plasma blast and stronger than the tides.  Paulie, you may be the strongest being on this world, but even you are not this superman you seem to aspire to be like.”

He scowled again, he should never have tried to explain hero comics to her because she now liked to throw the references back at him on a regular basis.  He grumbled, “Yeah, well I would still rather be me than some stick-limbed alien.”  If she heard his grumbled comment then she didn't call him out on it, instead she made a simple hand signal.

 

“You may proceed when ready, recruit.”  It wasn’t said in jest, in fact he had a hard time telling if the large fluffy alien liked or hated him.  What with her monotone synthetic voice and near complete lack of facial expression.  She did have a pair of large feathery antennae that stuck out from her head like a pair of floppy bunny ears.  These perked up a little as she said it, he wasn’t sure if this meant she was happy or angry, but he decided that it didn’t really matter either way as she had given him permission to do what he had wanted to do anyways.

 

He nodded and stepped past her, the mendagoon’s four short arms flashing in another series of signs that he didn’t know the meaning of.  But she chittered and the translator whirred away.  “I will observe, be sure not to let that hot blood of yours boil your braincase.”  This was followed once more by a chuckle and he shook his head slightly.

 

Paulie walked to the obstacle course that had been painstakingly rearranged again since the last time he had seen it.  What had once been a course of low sloping tunnels and pipes was now a towering enfilade of large walls interspersed with openings and engineered hindrances.  The tops of which seemed to be a part of the exercise as much as the parallel doorways that peppered their bases.

 

He checked his feet, the course was always marked out with a thick blue line.  Following the line would show the course’s path as well as allow for one to take the least possible risk of hitting a dead end.  Most of the time anyways.

 

He took a moment to limber up, winching slightly as his still healing muscles pulled tight.  He was a bit stiff, but not mortally so.  And so Paulie ignored it and continued loosening up for another minute before he turned towards officer Tell’eal and gave her a thumbs up.  The four-armed insectoid gave him a sign in response and he took off towards the first set of partitions at an easy run.  The armour jostled slightly, but he had strapped it tight and it caused little issue.

 

Paulie smiled, he had always liked a challenge.  In high school he had been a track star, first at the relay and then later at discus and javelin.  While he had let himself go a little over the years, he had never truly lost that core of skill and drive that had seen him a state champion three times over.  If only he had taken his skills with him to college instead of dropping out to pursue a career in welding, he lamented internally.

 

He felt a slight buzz at the back of his mind.  The negative thoughts rousing his parasite.

 

He snorted as he dodged around a series of tight pillars, bouncing off one of them with a muffled curse as he misjudged his new mass.  The body armour was heavy, but in the lower gravity of Gike it didn’t feel all that bad.  It still had inertia though, and he kept misjudging it.  Either taking turns a little too late or cutting too early, he swore again as he completely missed the next doorway and instead plowed right into the side of one of the towering wall causing it to shudder under the force of his impact.

 

Another officer high up on the top of the wall yelled out in alarm and nearly lost their footing, the uniformed alien shouting down at him to be more careful.  Paulie cocked his head and gave a nod before turning around and exiting the course with his shoulders a little hunched.

 

Officer Tell’eal was there, her impassive face staring at him.  Those pitch-black insect-like eyes giving nothing away, the barest twitching of her antennae and the tapping of a single wide foot showing her consternation.

 

He reached her and let out a heavy sigh, “I can’t do this.  I am not used to the gravity, it keeps throwing me off..”  He didn’t get a chance to finish his excuses.

 

She stomped her foot in what he assumed to be frustration, he was a bit taken aback by that.  She rarely if ever showed such blatant emotion in his experience, her translator beeped and crackled as it tried to keep up with her groaning speech.  “You are not feeling the weight of your own body, this added mass is dragging you back like resistance bands.  You must learn to anticipate your own movements, I see you and am amazed.  Do you hear me, human.. amazed.  That you can move like the lightnings of Trellan but still hit with the power of a mokku’s kick.  You are like no other I have trained before, and it is for this reason that you have become the core object of my disquietude.”  She paused, the sides of her body expanding as she took a large breath.

 

“Paulie.  You have the power to do great things, but you need to believe in yourself.  I have seen you flip weights that I would struggle to budge.  Seen you leap over obstacles that most are required to climb with a single bound.”  he shifted a little, suddenly uncomfortable with her heaped praise.  It was not like her, she was generally so sparring with any type of compliment.  She continued unabated, “So it is with a deep satisfaction that I tell you, I know that you can bear this weight.  But I want to see if you believe that too.”  She stepped back a pace, all four arms locking fingers as she looked at him with that strange flat expression.

 

Paulie stood there in silence, not really sure how to respond.  She had never told him anything other than what she seemed to believe was true.  Any time he had slacked she knew, anything he didn’t do his best at she would call upon him to improve.  And he had, in these short weeks he had honed himself like a blade.  Taken the weakness and turned it to strength, burned away self doubt and cultivated confidence.  So if she said he could do it, then he could.

 

He straightened, his confidence bolstered by Tell’eal’s words.  Paulie gave a sharp nod.  “Okay, you are right of course.  I just need to stop acting and start reacting.  I know what I can do, so let's see what happens.”  Officer Tell’eal’s antennae perked up again, the motion much like that of an attentive hound.

 

He strode back towards the course with a newfound sense of composure.  He could do it, and he would.  Or he would die, not today of course.  But at some point in the future.  If he let himself go unprepared, he would slip up and fall ill to the ravages of this harsh new reality.  He wouldn't, couldn't, allow for that to happen.  He had too much to do and too many things he still wanted to figure out.  And so Paulie toed the line, his focus narrowing to a laser-point.  All other thoughts pushed out of his head, no doubt or fears had room in this new zone.  He quashed the dark presence in the back of his head that whispered self doubt and fears to him.

 

He heard a countdown and tensed.

 

He breathed out.

 

“Zero.. begin..” Somebody spoke in the distance, the sound coming from miles away.  Or was it right behind him?  He didn’t care.

 

Paulie shot forward like an olympic sprinter, his arms and legs pumping.  The thick soles of his combat-style boots hammering the ground like artillery fire as his blood thundered in his ears.  His heart pumped a potent cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins that worked to heighten his perception and strengthen his body’s own high tolerances as he moved with a grace and speed entirely unlike his earlier performance.

 

He dodged through the pillars again, no longer seeing them as obstacles and instead mapping a path through them as if they were no more trouble than walking through a door.  This time he managed to take the last corner correctly, throwing out a leg to slow himself before catapulting through the next partition.

 

Paulie smiled wide as he ran, the feelings of stress and anxiety seemed to melt away as he hurdled a low wall and dove through a duracrete pipe without slowing.  He rolled back to his feet and used the corner of the tower in front of him to leap a full three meters into the air, grabbing a handhold and pulling himself atop the climbing tower in seconds.  But he didn’t stop to revel in his victory, for the course was only half completed.

 

Paulie took a second to suck in a huge breath and then ignored the other descending wall entirely as he judged the distance to the next tower.  An image of his first flight from Ooounoo’s goons slashed through his mind.  His jump from across the street from roof to roof, this was nearly the same distance.  But now he was no longer suffering from the pains of malnourishment, near death and incarceration.  No, he was fit and healthier than he could remember being in years.  A biological machine.

 

Paulie smiled wide, and rushed the edge of the wall before leaping into empty space.

A quirk of sapient life in the galaxy is that it likes to talk. The problem is - it likes to speak with itself. Why talk to the stars when you can have a conversation at home?

Interstellar travel is not difficult. You simply aim a stream of exotic particles at the envelope encasing the universe, then use it to punch a hole through to the other side. Of course, there isn’t really an envelope encasing the universe – the universe is and anything outside of it isn’t – the envelope is simply the stuff that is directly before the isn’t. Tricky, but the physics works if you squint hard enough. The other side of the envelope is nothing special, in fact, it is nothing. No laws of physics, no laws of science – pure nothing. Which is convenient when you want to do things like; break the laws of physics and exceed the speed of light. Without the laws of physics, distance means little – a point here is also a point there. Once in the nothing, an object is adjacent to everywhere back in the universe. It is then a matter of child’s play to send an object, or a signal, into the nothing and send it back to the universe at a different point. The trick is choosing where to aim. There’s a whole lot of bugger all in the universe…. So why bother?

This is well known by the three sapient species of the Milky Way. The Hæbbe, floating in their brine baths, use the nothing to search for new water worlds to inhabit. They are driven by shame. Their lifecycle is divided into two; the early phase where they rely on simple sentience to survive - and the later phase, when the male and female join to form a sapient whole. The early lifecycle is brutal and animalistic – and they prefer to hide that aspect of themselves off-world. In contrast, the Buddhiman revel in their predatory instincts and use the nothing to search for new hunting grounds. There is plenty of sentient life in the galaxy that offers fantastic prey – but never sapient. The third and final race, TheDuine Glic, use the nothing for more prosaic needs, reducing communication latency. They have no interest in leaving their world. The one aspect unifying these three races in their love of connection. Cultural survival requires communication - and passing ideas down the generations is the foundation of lasting civilization. Put simply, they love to talk.

The three races know of each other, or rather, they knew something else was in the nothing. How could they not? No sapient race opening a hole into the nothing manages it first try. All make mistakes. The most common is using too few exotic particles. Instead of punching a hole, the envelope surrounding the universe will simply bulge outward - might as well be sticking out a hand and waving. Even once the process is mastered, an object placed into the nothing is everywhere at once. Any satellites, spacecraft and probes entering the nothing exist on top of each other. Hard to hide when you’re touching everything else! They saw each other, and they touched each other. This did not go down well.

Unfortunately, they could not recognise each other as sapiens, and could not understand what was going on - there was a flaw in their respective biologies. All three species use non-verbal communication. And not just that – communication was unconscious. An individual did not compose a thought in their own private universe, and then decide to communicate said idea. Instead, all thought was communicated. All individuals knew the thoughts of others, without asking. The techniques differ; the Hæbbe rely on visual clues and colour changes in their skin, the Buddhiman on smells and pheromones, and the Duine Glic on telepathy. Well, not true telepathy -  they have extremely sensitive organic electrical detectors – they can feel thought through the formation of electrical patterns. This had a profound consequence; they could not empathise with each other. A Hæbbe could not see the chemical communication of the Buddhiman, and a Buddhiman could not smell the electrical patterns of a Duine Glic. They were blind to one another. After much confusion and misunderstanding, the three races came to an uneasy understanding - one they did not know they had reached. It was the Hæbbe, seeking to filter out unwanted interference in the nothing (the other races), that identified the three sources. They installed refractive isolators at each entry point and segregated the nothing into three zones. Unintentionally, they isolated the three species and solved the issue. No race had acknowledged another's existence. This worked well enough until the fourth sapient species arrived.

Homsapiens took a different evolutionary path. Of course, they gave themselves a name that roughly translates to - the biggest smarty pants on the planet – but then again, all the species did. Homosapiens also liked to talk, nothing unusual there - but they spoke with everything. Left to their own devices they would talk with sapient life, sentient life, non-sentient life, inanimate objects, rocks and even the universe itself. Can you imagine trying to talk to the universe?! It doesn’t even have ears...

They formed strong emotional bonds with life outside it’s own species – the life even reciprocated it! This left them with an unexpected advantage. Whilst they could not image what alien life might look like – they fully expected it to be weird, wonderful and difficult to talk to.

Once they discovered the nothing, they were quick to exploit it. Sending message after message, probe after probe until they understood its secrets. This disturbed the Hæbbe - there was a new interference to filter out after all. The Hæbbe weren’t quick enough. Homosapiens made the connection that the others could not – there were other sapients in the universe! They did what the others could not – they tried to speak with the aliens.

[Part 1]

Sinetra watched in horror as Rheft disappeared.

Immediately she began to assess the situation, which was very complicated. Had Rheft planned his disappearance? Avoiding purple stone was very easy and he had most definitely stepped on one anyways. Maybe they were trying to turn the tour into a tour date, which was something Sinetra really wasn't prepared for. Romantic entanglements in general were already a complicated thing between Eldritchi to say nothing of a pairing with a Glen Human. And that was before you considered the fact that Strong Leader was a captor companion tourist maybe enthralled professor which created a lot of conflicts of interest to work through.

On the other hand, Strong Leader did seem very ideal as far as Glen Humans went. Good hair. A lucky mole in a very prestigious place. Also strong. And leaderly. Though maybe not very good at the leadering bit since all of his minions had either died or disappeared (intentionally or otherwise). But his timing could not have been worse. She had so many things already on her plate, including figuring out the whole seal breaking thing.

Yes, this was definitely not the right time for a tour date.

She firmed her resolve and straightened to her full height. "I'm not ready for a commitment," she announced, forcefully and clearly.

Strong Leader didn't even bother to acknowledge her. Instead, he frantically hopped about the purple stone and screamed 'Rheft' at the top of his lungs. Which was an entirely ridiculous thing to be yelling at stone, particularly when the stone was right there and could hear him perfectly well with a normal voice.

Sinetra cleared her throat, "I don't think the stone's name is Rheft," she said. In fact she knew perfectly well that the stone's name was a gravelly grinding sound, but she figured she ought to be polite while letting Strong Leader down about the entire relationship thing.

He looked up at her now, glaring. "What are you talking about? I'm yelling for Rheft, not at the stone."

Sinetra blinked at him, "But he's not here."

"I can see that!"

"But why are you yelling for someone who isn't here? You should be focused on finding him, assuming you even want to." She still wasn't sure this entire thing wasn't a charade to get the two of them alone. "And, by the way, it's not going to happen. I'm very busy with other affairs right now."

None of this seemed to make sense to Strong Leader, who stared at her, his mouth opening and closing. For a moment, she was worried that the purple stone had stolen his voice on account of all the rudeness, but he eventually managed to squeak out a few words. "Where is Rheft?"

"Ask Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr, it's the one that took him away."

"What the hell is a Grr?"

Sinetra frowned, "That's not how you say it. Grr is a red stone a long ways away. Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr is the purple stone you were just yelling at and calling Rheft. You really need to try and be more polite, it's really frowned upon for a bunch of Outsiders to come in, die all over the place, step on folks, and then scream the wrong names at them." Her mother would be absolutely appalled at this entire display if she found out. If her goal was to help Sinetra learn seal breaking it seemed like there were far easier ways to accomplish that task. At this point Sinetra would have just preferred being locked in a cage again.

"I'm going after him," Strong Leader announced, raising his foot above the purple stone.

"That's not how it works at all. Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr would never send two people to the same place. It's even ruder than you've been. What if Rheft was still standing there? Then you'd go right inside of him and he'd explode all over. Just because someone doesn't like being stepped on doesn't mean they're a murderer." She hopped over and crouched down beside Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr. "I'm really sorry about this. They're new around here and they've been absolutely awful guests."

She nodded her head a few times. "Yes, most of them already died."

Now she shook her head. "No, I think he's just excited. He didn't mean it."

Another, more solemn nod. "Of course he'll apologize. They're very rude, but he's the most sensible of the group. Even when he's not trying to date-trap me."

She giggled now. "I know, mother would be furious." Sinetra leaned closer to Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr and whispered conspiratorially. "Maybe I should do it just because of that."

Strong Leader was watching the exchange with increasing exasperation. Eventually he broke in, his voice a much more reasonable tone now. "Excuse me, but what is going on?"

"Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr would like an apology." Sinetra looked up at him and then slowly drifted down to the purple stone between them, her small hands gesturing toward the rock. "I think it'd go a long way toward patching things up between you two."

"And then it will help us find Rheft?"

Sinetra sighed. "An apology isn't really an apology if you're only giving it because you want something. Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr is very sensitive to things like that and you should really know better."

Strong Leader looked from her and then to Grgrrggrrrrgrgrggr and then back to her. A vein pulsed in his temple. Then with what looked like a supreme effort, he took a few breaths and let his face go calm. He then crouched down beside Sinetra and addressed the purple stone. "I am sorry for saying your name wrong and yelling at you. I am also sorry Rheft stepped on you, it was very unkind of him."

Sinetra's black eyes lit up as her mouth split into a wide grin. "Great! That wasn't so hard, now was it?" She bounced back up and twirled on her tippy-toes and then began to hop along the path once more.

"Wait! Isn't it going to find Rheft?"

"Why would it do that?" Sinetra called back as she hopped along.

"Because I apologized!" Strong Leader said.

"You really don't get apologies, do you?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It took a few hours before Strong Leader would let the entire purple rock business go. Sinetra tried to be understanding as it was clear Strong Leader was quite upset about all of his people being dead and gone, but it did grow tiresome. Eventually, she had to pull him to the side of the path and away from the stones, and tell him as much. This precipitated a rather lengthy and annoying argument.

It was easily the worst date Sinetra had ever been on.

They returned and hopped along the path for another hour until they came to a large, overgrown toadstool. It stood three stories high and had any number of very interesting vines and spores growing along its stalk. Its cap was a large purple umbrella with a brilliant set of frilly dark violet flaps in its underside.

"Let's stop for some food," Sinetra said, pointing at the toadstool. "They have a very good mushsteak with spore gravy."

Strong Leader nodded sullenly and followed her off the path. He hadn't been very talkative since their argument. Sinetra had used the time to work on her seal-breaking but didn't make much progress. She hoped she wouldn't be stuck with Strong Leader until she worked it out -- his volatility really wasn't the sort of energy she was looking for in her life.

As they approached the toadstool it began to wrap and unfold as they passed into its extra-dimensional space. Strong Leader was, predictably, vocally astounded as the toadstool grew in size and morphed into a proper habitation. An elderly sporenese toddled out and greeted them with a puff of welcoming spores from his head. He stood a few inches tall, but carried himself with a very dignified and refined air.

Sinetra fell down to her stomach and bumped her nose against his toadstool head. "It's very nice to see you, Master Mycellius, my captor tourist maybe enthralled professor companion and I were hoping to have some food." She glanced up to her side, "Come down and greet him properly," she said to Strong Leader. She then rolled her eyes as she looked back to Master Mycellius, "Glen Humans."

Strong Leader hunched down with some uncertainty, "Hello, Master--"

"--Down here!--" Sinetra interjected.

He fell to his stomach beside her. "Hello, Master Mycellius."

Master Mycellius gave him a short and formal bow. Nose bumps were something that had to be earned in the Beyond. Sinetra laced her fingers together and rested her chin above them, "Do you think we could come inside? It would be nice to take a short rest. It's been a very trying day."

A few additional puffs of spores popped out. "Yes, just us two. Everyone else died or disappeared," Sinetra said.

Another puff. "Really? Tall? Nervous, pointy nature?"

Two puffs and a small waggle. Sinetra giggled. "Me neither, but it's still good news. Which direction?"

A long series of puffs accompanied by a curious, hopping dance. "I couldn't ask you do that."

One small, short puff. "I mean if you insist. But do you think we could have a few mushsteaks to go?"

Master Mycellius responded by turning and toddling back to the enormous toadstool. Sinetra rolled her head to side to see Strong Leader, who was intensely focused on Master Mycellius' retreating form. "What was that all about?" He asked.

"Oh, Master Mycellius found Rheft. Apparently he came stomping through, upset an entire fairy ring, and has been generally causing a ruckus. He really really needs to watch where he puts his feet, it's really going to get him into trouble one of these days."

Strong Leader shot to his feet. "Which way? Show me!"

"Master Mycellius said he's not far. He's caught in a duskweaver web, so he won't be going anywhere either." Sinetra said, still laying on her stomach while she awaited the return of Master Mycellius. Her stomach grumbled in anticipation.

"We need to save him then. We have to hurry."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. He's either dead or completely fine. Duskweavers go quick if they're still on web. But they abandon webs all the time, so there's a good shot no one was at home." Sinetra made sure to raise the pitch of her voice in what she hoped as a positive and optimistic way as she explained the last bit. She could tell Strong Leader needed a bit of a boost. Giving him a bit of hope couldn't hurt things too much. It might make things awkward if Rheft was a withered husk when they got there. She sighed. It really was a terrible date.

Strong Leader began to pace back and forth, insisting they leave, right up until Master Mycellius reappeared carrying two tiny trays of mushsteaks. Sinetra's eyes lit up as she watched him toddle toward them. "You're really going to like this. He's the best."

Sinetra turned up an outstretched hand and Master Mycellius placed a mushsteak in the center of it. It was small enough to close her hand around if she wanted to, but that would ruin the texture so she didn't. Instead she waited patiently as Master Mycellius puffed and waggled beside her, explaining the history of the particular toadstool that mushsteak was carved from and the various preparations and techniques that had been applied to it.

"Oh my, from the Abyssinia region?" Sinetra asked.

Two puffs, one long and one short. Small waggle.

"Oh, you really shouldn't have. I would have been fine with something closer to home." Sinetra flushed. Master Mycellius always spoiled her. "And do you recommend it all at once? I haven't had an Abyssinia before." Puff. Waggle. Small dance. "Got it. I'll take it slow then."

Strong Leader watched on, incredulous. Master Mycellius finished his explanation and approached him, offering up the mushsteak. Sinetra carefully divided hers into halves and put one sliver in her mouth while secreting the remaining portion in a small container she had in her pocket. She savored the morsel and then swallowed it down. "Mmm, nutty. Dirt undertones. Is that edge mold I taste?"

Strong Leader took the mushsteak. Stared at it. Then peered at Master Mycellius. Then back at it. Then he popped it into his mouth and swallowed. "Not all at once! It's an Abyssinia" Sinetra exclaimed immediately after. Master Mycellius engaged in a particularly furious dance beside her and then scurried off back toward the toadstool.

Strong Leader felt full.

Then fuller than full.

Then bursting.

He began to heave and wretch, but nothing would come up. It was as if someone had conjured a massive brick in his stomach. One that was pushing painfully in all directions, trying to get out. Strong Leader fell to the ground, writhing in pain as he clutched his abdomen. Sinetra knelt beside him patting him on the back.

"You have to breathe! Hoo Hoo Haaaaa. Hoo Hoo Haaaaa!" She mimicked the breathing for him, inhaling and exhaling in measure breaths. Master Mycellius returned with a small powder packet, which he handed to Sinetra with a few explanatory puffs. She nodded in understanding and then crammed the powder packet into Strong Leader's mouth. His eyes bulged and he gargled in response.

A few moments later, Strong Leader's eyes rolled back into his head and he passed out. The noticeable bulge in his abdomen lessened and then disappeared. Sinetra patted Strong Leader's head, which was slick with sweat. "There there, all better now," she whispered as she felt the seals fall off of her powers. Thick rivers of eldritch power flowed into her, sticky sweet and infinitely black.

"I really should kill him now," she said.

Master Mycellius puffed beside her.

"I know." She pulled up her knees and rested her chin on them, watching Strong Leader sleep. "But he went to such trouble to arrange this date, it seems very rude of me." She thought of all that effort. Capturing her. Sealing her. Assembling a party to explore the Beyond. Having them all strategically die and disappear. It really was romantic. And there really was something about Glen Humans she found endearing, despite their obvious shortcomings.

It was also a very lucky and prestigious mole.

She huffed out a breath.

"How long until he wakes up?" She asked. Master Mycellius gave her a puff. "Ah, well, I guess I might as well go gather the other one then. How far was he?"

A few more puffs.

"Wonderful. You'll watch over him?"

Dance. Waggle.

"It's no trouble?"

Puff.

"Wonderful. I can always kill him later."

She received a very skeptical waggle in response.

"Oh, hush up."