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Chapter 9: Creeping Closer
I saw you in a dream again. When I awoke, you were there, waiting, a smile on your face. You look better and better, more alive. I'm happy to see you get better. Am I the one doing that? In my dream, I felt a pull on me while you sat in front of me, and I healed your bones. I healed your skin, your body. I warmed your heart with mine, and you smiled. A smile that was on my face when I woke. Did I do that?
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.89 Lucas Berthelot
"Lucas," Aventus spoke softly from his throne, "I think you should consider more than just yourself in this."
"I won't have that traitor teaching my men," Lucas spoke sourly. Several delegates looked far more uncomfortable than they had been before. The chamber's air grew miserable as the King continued speaking. "He is protecting those things, and I want to know why. Their answers were far less than I wanted, and that new," The derision dripped from his voice.
"Governor, that goblin. Making threats as if she has any power." Lucas passed the room, courtiers, legislators, and parliamentary officials moving away from him as if he were a plague.
"Lucas, enough," Aventus spoke again, his voice edged with steel. "The Governor thoroughly trounced your own garrison without that much effort. She could have killed your General, but offered to fulfil your wishes for the culprit to be brought forward. From every report I have received about her candor and her understanding of politics, you are grossly underestimating her. I would be far more worried about her Advisor, that old man has an axe to grind."
The King of Huron rose from his throne, step by step, walking toward his old friend. "I do not think you should throw away the opportunity for your men to be brought up to the standard of mine. As for that matter," He set a heavy hand on Lucas' shoulder. "Majestet Halgier is no traitor. I do not see him that way, nor are any of the Dwarven Clans officially part of the Federation. You cannot call an ally a traitor when they have no allegiance to you, only mutual benefit."
"You insult me by insinuating that my army is not as powerful as yours," Lucas growled.
Aventus laughed, echoing off the walls like the drums of war. "I don't have to insinuate anything. Your military may be more powerful than mine, but your discipline, your morale, is far less than desirable. I need an ally to back the frontline, unlike you, the Caliphate will attack our borders first. Not yours."
The King turned back to Lucas, a dark look in his eyes. A memory he didn't wish to relive, hoped he would never have to again. "Your people are safe half a continent away from the battles; mine pick up arms and join us. It is my farms that burn, it is my factories that are destroyed, it is their blood that flows through the earth as they fall. Not. Yours."
"I understand your point, Aventus." He began.
"Oh, I think you don't remember, you have forgotten since all those years ago. Do you understand how degrading it is to depend on another nation to keep my people fed? Do you understand how my pride breaks every time I have to rely on your networks for information? The pain it causes for us to know that we live in Galus's shadow?" Lucas swallowed a retort, crossing arms, waiting for the man to get to the point.
"I am not asking you, Lucas. You will accept the Dwarves' assistance with training your officers." The murmurs in the shadows grew quiet, the sound of pens to paper halting at Aventus's words.
Returning the King's fury with his own, Lucas stood his ground. Daring him to challenge his authority. Huron's King stepped closer to him, softly speaking so that only they could hear. "I have both of my Sages heading to that Dwarven settlement now. I could even be convinced to give them orders to work in your favor." Stepping away from him, speaking too loudly for Lucas's comfort.
"But, I need strong allies, not one who is just about as likely to run the second danger appears. Or to start going on a killing spree, like what happened to those poor Goblins." That had its intended effect as the citizens who had appeared to listen to the summit, along with much of the ruling class, began to murmur far louder.
Lucas bitterly thought about how all his careful planning apparently wasn't worth the shit scraped off a boot. First, the Dwarves taking his territory; now, all said and done, it was a few square miles. But that wasn't the point; when it was a vulnerability to exploit, he would be forced to protect their borders. The Necromancer, what on the Tree's great Branches did that woman want with them?
Michéle had the good graces to keep his mouth shut, the portal nexus of Huron coming into view as the people crowded the causeways to hurl insults down at them. Vile things, calling Lucas a butcher, a weak commander, amongst several other choice insults. Still, Lucas thought about the move Aventus had just pulled. Moving him into a position to be opposed by an ally's people, his armies would never earn the trust of them at this rate.
The sound of the steam engine beneath them filled the air as he planned on circumventing this new limitation. The entire frame barely even vibrated from the well-built machine, glimmering brass, crystal windows, soft interior. Though this brought the King little comfort as he bounced his leg in annoyance.
"Who in the hell does that man think he is?" Lucas finally broke the uncomfortable quiet between them.
"If I may, Sire." Michéle waited for Lucas to acknowledge him. It didn't do well to offer him advice when he was in a foul mood like this. Several more belittling comments toward Huron's King and parliament followed, several more aggressive comments later toward its people, before Galus's King finally looked at his Advisor and General.
"Out with it." Was all he said while Michéle bore the front of the furious gaze on him. Though he was more than used to this, having had to learn more patience than he would have liked in his days in Huron's military and its government.
"Contact Majestet Halgier and continue the agreement as it stands. If the terms are still upheld, his military is still ours to leverage. Including, now, the once raiders of the Goblins. Sire. The contract made between Clan Krijic and Rhojic never stated who was a part of their forces." Lucas perked up at this line of thought. His advisor continued as he earned more of the King's attention.
"As it stands, should war break out earlier than expected, we could persuade the Dwarves to Vanguard the front. While I'm sure Gjorn will offer some type of provisions to protect their new settlement, it will still leave Galus to dictate the economic drivers in all this. From what I understand from the few ambassadors I have sent to the new settlement, Governor Ilgor is still interested in joining Galus at some point. Perhaps she may be convinced to incorporate her blooming economy into ours."
"Do you think she would be willing to embrace the culture we put forth?" Lucas asked.
"I believe she may consider it," Michéle responded.
He sat back, wondering if it would be worth building a partnership with her. He was entirely unsure if she understood anything about money, let alone an economy, even more so one at scale. Still, she has been interesting, albeit infuriating. The nobles and politicians of the city had been chomping at the bit to get a chance to speak with her, though that would be an entirely different story, as those Kings were protecting her immensely.
The factory in the old city ruins was already underway, the foundation having been laid. Khamere was overseeing procuring adequate workers for the actual manufacturing, Zyrtie was greasing his hands with moving materials, and gaining land trusts from Port De Renard. Aventus and his antics had made him worry about the shipyards in Huron. "Do we have a status report on the ironclads, as well as troop recruitment?" Lucas asked.
Michéle, ready for nearly anything the King might query, responded promptly. "The shipworks took a hit to morale when they heard you were coming. A steep drop-off in production as the foreman have been attempting to reintroduce order."
"What do you mean, restore order?" The portal nexus towered over the steam engine as they entered the shimmering surface. The feeling of a thin sheet of cold water washed over them as they trundled along into the Galus chapter of the Wayfare Guild, nearly fifteen-hundred miles in seconds. Lucas never gave the transport much thought, though Michéle always marveled at the novelty.
"There have been some riots, quelled, but they did not take kindly to hearing that the summit had failed. The crew had been hoping that the finishing of the Arelion would be enough of a display of power to dissuade the Caliphate. However, now that the keels of sixty more ships have now been laid, that doesn't seem to have been the case." Michéle answered coolly.
Lucas frowned, but waved his hand for his advisor to continue. "Huron has already begun turning out artillery and rounds; their gunsmiths have welcomed the extra work. An estimated several thousand rounds of shells per month, as well as several hundred units of heavy armament, in that same timeframe. Their ranks have swelled as nearly every citizen within the city-state has offered to defend the walls of Huron."
"I suppose you mention that because our ranks have not reflected such a turnout." Lucas made it sound less like a question and more like something he already knew the answer to. "How many vessels do we have ready at the moment?"
"That is true, while our numbers stay high, a standing headcount of approximately two million, initial estimates for Huron stand at six, with that doubling in the next few months. Ours may grow by another million by the end of the year." He watched Lucas's frown deepen with each passing word. Michéle knew as much as him that their numbers would never be enough at that rate. "The sixty ironclads should be undergoing sea trials by the middle of the year. With the Foragemaster's manufacturing plan, there will be no shortage of ship guns and anti-aircraft capabilities. In fact, Khamere has devised a new round for those batteries that will burn them as they fall to the earth. Turns out dirigibles with aluminum superstructures are not fond of phosphorus."
Michéle continued as he pulled the leather-bound book he kept with him at all times for gathered intelligence, not bothering to look up to see if Lucas was paying as much attention as he should. "The number of vessels currently ready for combat is sitting at four-hundred-sixty. The Mhuzelti fleet stands at nearly one-thousand known vessels. While the Caliphate is unknown, estimated at just under four-hundred. Naval power is decidedly in the Federation's favor."
Lucas stared out the window, chin in his hand. Following his eyes, Michéle saw a group of Wayfare acolytes practicing on opening portals in the courtyard. A small wall lining the roadway up to the portal nexus, and the rest of the guild. "We should enact the Federation once more before Suliman has time to break a blockade."
"I was under the impression that was the plan already, Sire? Were you thinking Suliman would back down?" His Advisor asked, confused.
"Blockade the Fuhijimi channels, reroute the entire southern fleet. I want our guns pointed at their capital cities on every Isle. Send word to the High Seer of Mhuzelt that war will happen. We request that they garrison the Palagus sea channels, as well as start setting depth charges inside the pelagian break waters. I want to force them into the Ilori Sea, where Huron can rain hell down on them. Contact the rest of the Generals, invite the Dwarven Kings," He paused for a long moment, "Invite the Goblins. Let's see how she holds herself while the rest of the world watches. I want to discuss our plans. Plan where the Caliphate will be the most likely to launch their initial assaults."
"As you wish, Sire," Michéle said as he opened a link between him and Lafayette, as well as several other Generals.
***
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.92 Emily Von Eule
Emily quickly read through Azorez's letter. Widening eyes with each word, this had been the exact kind of thing she had been hunting for. As well as someone who had used Archon stones and survived, granted, not the place she had expected it to be, but a trail to follow regardless. She breathed a sigh as her gaze wandered through her study.
Eyes drifting from dusty tomes filled with esoteric knowledge from ages far removed. Collections of essays on transmundanity, the inner workings of magic as it flowed through living vessels. Countless experiment reports on the effects of healing magics and their harm to the body. Her own reports and findings on the Archon stones, as well as their relation to the new branch of magic, Artifice.
The tea sitting by her side had long been forgotten as her study of one of the rune structures found inside the ruins just outside Minnow. Still, picking the cup up lightly, the now cold tea was not unpleasant as it reached her lips. Her mind reeled at the implications that Azorez had listed out in her letter. Another letter from her contacts in the Court rested unopened on her desk, eyeing the thing as the gas lanterns cast a brilliant amber light across the room.
A small knock at her study door got her attention. "Come in." She said quietly.
The door opened with no one there, apparently, only for Atrimir to roll himself in back first. His creaky old wheelchair rumbling quietly. His massive hat hiding most of his greying and aged face, he threw a sealed letter onto her desk while he crossed his arms. A frown as plain as day was planted on his face; she didn't need to see his face to know it was there. Eyeing the letter, the King's seal stamped in bright golden wax.
"Is there something that is bothering you, Master?" Emily asked as she broke the wax seal, pulling the papers out of the envelope.
Her eyes scanned the single sheet as the old Sage grumbled. "How does he expect me to travel anywhere?" She wouldn't have known what he was speaking of unless she had gotten this letter first.
Aventus wanted both his Sages to travel to the new Dwarven city in Galus to discuss brokering terms with the Dwarves to allow them to secede the territory back to Galus. "What new Dwarven city?" Emily asked, thoroughly confused. She hadn't been out of the public eye for that long, she wondered. Having been absorbed in her research for the last few months, though she had been informed that the Caliphate had declared war. A concerning enough move to shift her priorities toward constructing wards around the city. As well as sending her students out to Mistsdale, Ithrica, and Tynaima to do the same, those cities were on the frontier, but they were still strategically important.
"I take it you haven't read the other letter yet, then?" Atrimir said, lifting his head enough to look at Emily. His piercing blue eyes were familiar and comforting, but at this moment, full of caution.
She tore the letter open, with each line her eyes growing wider. From fascination, to horror, to wonder. Worry plastering itself to her face, she reread the King's orders, the new information forcing her to realize the gravity of the task given to them. Picking Azorez's letter back up, cross-referencing between them all.
She set them all back down slowly, handing Azorez's letter to Atrimir. Standing from her desk, snatching her own hat from the stand next to the door. Atrimir got quite the shock when Emily jerked his wheelchair toward the door, an action she had never dared to do until now. "What in the Eight frigid gods are you doing, woman?" He demanded, looking back at her.
"We cannot let Lucas and his court decide anything for those Goblins. I need them now, much like Gjorn and his annexation of sovereign territory, I need them to have as much freedom as possible." She said as they crossed through the parlor toward the front door, her single servant, Marcus Yrtri, appointed to her by the court opening the door while following them out. Asking after what the rush was.
"I realize Lucas would be more than willing to outlaw their worship of their god, but it is Dwarven territory at the moment," Atrimir said, accepting the course she had decided for them.
"Do you think Lucas would play fair? I think not! That man only cares about his image for power and his economic stranglehold over the Federation. No matter how much gratuity her shows his people, it will always be to keep them distracted from the real problems in this world. This stunt from the Dwarves had weakened his image enough that I daresay his people will begin to question what has happened with these Goblins." She said, her boots thudding hard against the stones as her pace quickened.
Though they had already left the grounds of the University house she and Atrimir called home, her servant had never seen her in such a state. The green university grounds with their perfectly manicured landscapes, hedgerows passing by as she told Marcus to worry now, to enjoy the house while she would be away.
"But, Mistress Sage, do you not need belongings and preparations for travel?" He said, flagging down several other University house staff as they walked.
Atrimir waved him off, having finished Azorez's letter. "Leave it, son. When she gets this way, their is no saying no to her." His rough voice carried to the other staff.
Making their way out of the University grounds, Emily whispered a spell to warm her skin as she wrapped her military jacket around Atrimir. Just outside the grounds was a bustling market, where they stopped to buy him a blanket as well. Ignoring his complaints that he was a damned Sage of Huron as well, and more than perfectly capable of using the same trick she did.
But his complaints were not worth much as the noise of the market drowned them out in the sea of humanity. Though many of the merchants had closed up shop early to listen to the newest radio report of the war preparations. The familiar Huronian national anthem playing before each broadcast. Not stopping at any of the stalls, as the same broadcast could be heard from just about any set.
"Just in, the defensive perimeters of Ithrica call for more support as they continue to dig down trenches to..." The same nationally sponsored Anchor faded as his voice picked up again as they passed another stall.
"The Empire of Mhuzelt has been formally requested to blockade the Palagus sea routes..." Small crowds were starting to gather as the stars on their uniforms glittered in the late afternoon light, not nearly as many citizens recognizing the two Sages as they passed through the market toward the Wayfare Guild.
"King Berthelot has enacted the Treaty of the Federation with the rising threat of the Caliphate." Only the shop owners manning their radios noticed them as they passed. Workers shoveling fuel into the coal boxes of their engines as they powered their lights. Huron had issued power limitations as the war effort mandated the factories to operate day and night.
"Recent attacks carried out in the Northern Wastes... retaliation against Calphiti shipyards..." The Guild was on the other side of the city, reaching the trolley car just before it left. Emily rolled Atrimir into a vacant section between the seats of the car.
The radios had long since faded, though their words echoed in their skulls like a twenty-one-gun salute. "Tickets, plea... I beg your pardon, Sage Von Eule, Sage Schafer. I didn't recognize you right away." The portly old ticket collector quickly apologized as he took his hat off and saluted them.
"There's no need really," Emily told him, giving him a reassuring wave.
"It is an honor to meet you, Miss. The Great Sage himself," The star struck man continued anyway, "Where are we headed? I can have the conductor pass the rest of the stops if you need."
"She said there is no need," Atrimir said roughly, forcing a little power into his voice. The portly man's eyes glowed with the spell.
"Yes, I'll be seeing to the rest of the car." He said slowly, as he wandered to the back of the empty trolley car.
Emily smacked Atrimir in the chest, "That wasn't very nice of you."
"Young Sage, you get to be my age and hold this position for as long as I have, the honor and respect grows old. I am just an old man who has lived a tragically long life." He said as the two slipped into a comfortable silence. Watching as passengers came aboard, leaving with each stop.
Women with their billowing dresses and feather hats, the men in their tweed suits, black vests, and pocket watches. The city rolling passed them as the lives of their citizens showcased themselves in all their mundane glory. Still, that didn't stop nearly all of them from stopping and greeting them in the same fashion that the ticket collector had done.
Emily graciously accepted them, making small talk while Atrimir pretended to be asleep under his far to wide brimmed hat. More than a few were asking what they were up to; it was rare for the Sages to be out in the city so publicly. She had given them all nearly the same answer, "We are following up on a few leads for our research."
She had been asked too many times to count for an autograph or a small demonstration of magic for the children. Many gave them small tokens of appreciation to Emily for her status as the Heroine of Huron, the name she had earned for herself during the Great war but annihilating the Romachian army that had laid siege to their walls. Boxes of chocolates meant for the lover they were traveling the city with, loaves of fresh bread, and a charcuterie board laid out in finely made packaging. One child had even given her their own toy, a gift she refused, though gave them the box of sweets given to her earlier.
"Do you not get tired of it?" Atrimir said, tearing off a chunk of the bread. The trolley car had been vacant save for them for the last several stops. Leaving them alone while they waited for the last few stations before reaching the Guild.
"I do, but unlike you, grouchy old man, I believe in letting them believe in the image of us." She said, dumping the rest of the small gifts into his lap. An act that only earned her an annoyed look from her Master.
"An image of you, I toppled a mountain to guard our asses from an assault, you." He sighed and let the silence hang between them once more. They had beaten this dead horse far too many times; the publicity was just a part of the job anyway. Their research was the only thing worth talking about at the moment.
"We know the stones are tied to magic." She said, shifting the subject, tired of this same old lecture. "We know that to use them, you need to think of family in some aspect."
Atrimir scratched at his beard, pondering as they slowly came to a stop, as the little steam engine at the front of the trolley fought the brakes. Before they both felt the gears disengage below them. "There is that woman, from what we have found, these stones are tied to her. In that unfortunate experiment, the stones might be memories. Though that doesn't explain it, they have a wide variety of side effects."
"Your voice changed after the last one; it took you a week to get used to it. I still don't understand how it grabs people's attention like that." She said as the trolley began to move again.
"Still, we have found that the separation between elements is far less solid than one might expect. The differences between Domains explain that, almost as if it is all one type of power." Atrimir's voice sounded distant as he lost himself in that thought.
"Yes, but what that source is, and why it behaves that way, is still a mystery. But Gjorn's warning just a few months ago, that couldn't have been a coincidence. Especially with this newest development.
"I want to know why all this is happening. Some Goblin priestess having four of those stones, and being followed by the woman in them. Azorez has been observant and invaluable. What strikes me as disturbing is that this woman is also the same creature that haunted Skjalich for all those years." He said as the last stop of the route came into view.
"It's all related, I just feel it. Besides, I have a theory I want to find out when we get there." Emily said cryptically as she rose from her seat, grabbing the handles on Atrimir's wheelchair. After a slightly botched push off the platform, jolting the old man, they were in the grounds of the Wayfare Guild.
The Huron Chapter liked to keep things minimal, being on the edge of territory where the Guild was accepted. Though the history between Huron and the desert also left much to be desired for a long-standing institution. Frequent skirmishes, territory disputes with all its vassal cities, and the Valley of Mists, war was a constant in the lives of her citizens. Only a few ornamental trees lined the main road to the portal nexus, while the rest of the grounds were in the process of being ripped up for gardens to be planted.
"Seems our traditions have taken hold even here," Atrimir commented, though Emily knew what he meant. When the city itself was under threat, they assumed the farmlands ringing the walls and the surrounding countryside would be lost. Anyone with a spot of dirt would be expected to grow food, a task that was undertaken by nearly every living soul inside Huron's walls.
Making their way down the road, the more travelers they saw. Backups were unusual at the nexus, tension palpable in the air. Trunks and bags being used as makeshift seating, their occupants all looking dejected. The curve in the road showed them even more as they rounded it.
A proverbial wall of humanity stood waiting at the nexus, the portal having been extinguished. Neither of the Sages had ever seen the portal empty, its grand archway showing nothing but the world on the other side. Sitting atop the archway was one of the God's Eye's in their strange gold and black robes, the image of the Great Tree stitched in gold thread on each of the sleeves. The only thing marking their rank, no other Wayfare wore those, never allowed to.
Emily stepped past the throng, while Atrimir shoved people out of the way, small gusts of wind knocking them away. Many more stepped out of the way after seeing the gold stars on their shoulders, getting even a faint glimpse of their too-large hats. The Sage of Huron addressed the God's Eye's with a voice amplified by her magic. "Honor upon you, God's Eye's Netzet. Why have you closed the gate?"
Though he rarely spoke, Emily had learned that quickly when she ascended the ranks to reach her Master's side, being privy to the truly powerful that the world had to offer. Netzet, Tople, Awrwyn, and Odeza were the only God's Eye's she knew of, though she understood that there were a few dozen more. His voice was eerie, disconcertingly low pitched for what he looked capable of. "The gate is closed by the Wayfares. Due to this coming war, we will not allow Bhal's armies an easy access to the rest of the world."
"But, Bhal hasn't even been mentioned for the reasons for this war. Why make such a religious stance for your reason?" Emily argued, though she knew this was futile. Once the Wayfares Guild made a decision, there was no avenue for overture.
"Then you are a fool for thinking otherwise, Miss Sage." He was in front of her in the space between heartbeats. Not even the usual snap of a teleport, he was just there. His dark green eyes were like algae filled pools in the ides of summer's heat. He whispered to both the Sages as he bent down so they would both hear, "You were followed, do not look around you. You spoke too loudly of things that should have been left silent. Gjorn will be waiting for you, but you will not use our magic to get to your destination, far too hazardous..."
Emily had to suppress the urge to dart her eyes around, looking for what she had missed. After what Gjorn had told them, showed them about the black ring, she wasn't sure her mind would handle seeing faces with too many eyes. Darkness where light should have been, voices that needled the mind like an itch. Netzet rose to his full height once more, looking at something behind them, and faded away like smoke on the wind.
Atrimir nudged her to get her attention, neither of them willing to look at what the God's Eye's had just seen. "Well, we won't be getting to Galus the quick way. We should stop at the House to gather a few things before setting off."
Emily felt a pit in her stomach as she reached for the handles on her Master's chair. Forcing every bit of willpower she had to not acknowledge that every face around them had disappeared. The throng of humanity had gone still as each faceless head followed them as they walked past. "At least it will make for good traveling weather," Emily commented as every inch of her felt the sickening touch of something she couldn't understand reach out to them.
"Yes, the Great Meadow should be beginning its spring bloom right about now," Atrimir responded as shapes moved behind the trees down the road. Shadows in the wrong shapes as they fell to the ground below them, the light felt wrong, bending at odd angles.
"It should take us, what? A week to reach Ligne? So long as the train out west isn't booked full." She asked as the sickening feeling faded, the noise of a crowd continuing behind them as if nothing had happened. Though both of them knew full well that they were dealing with something they would demand an explanation for. There were never these forces they contended with until Gjorn had shown up, just when they were on a break through with the stones.
It was hours later when they sat together on the first train out of Huron, the rumbling of the steam engine engulfing the car in smoke and haze. Their car was mostly empty, though they bought everyone's ticket's in the box office. Hundreds of travelling folks, now escaping Huron before the real suffering began.
***
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.99 Vilorlith
I carried that book with me, blending its reality with my own. My song, soft and subtle, a call far too quiet for the Shadows to hear. Yet I knew they would notice eventually; they would find me in the end. An inevitability I would simply have to hope my darling girl would be ready for. Still, I saw their eyes appear from the shattered cracks in our creation.
Searching endlessly for me, I knew I had been seen by Balance. I felt his sick influence the moment Illy absorbed my blood, though I had never wished to see another battlefield, watching as my children fell dead to the earth once more. I shook my head as my voice called out to the world, speaking through it. It had been some time since I had done so, having grown accustomed to speaking to my children in the way they did. It took even longer for my voice to be heard in the wind, the echoes of the waves, the rustle of the trees, the quiet songs of this world.
I thought back to the time when one of my children had first realized what I was doing. My sweet Rythia, her beautiful voice singing back to me. Loosing myself in the memory for some time, watching as she made the wind sing with her voice, listening as her song filled my mind. The sound of the waves just outside the ruined building made me forget that, for just a moment, I was back there again.
Opening my eyes, I saw the shadows cast from the pale moonlight move. "Time to go," I whispered to no one in particular. Knowing they would never hear my voice, yet they searched endlessly for it anyway. A lingering doubt had been bothering me since I had first begun to understand this butchered language the world used now. Why were my children still alive?
Shadow Wrath had made it abundantly clear he wanted all my children dead and me, so why turn them into mockeries of what they used to be? He allowed them to keep their ears, yet stripped them of the ability to hear my voice. He changed their skin from the night sky to the colors of the green earth below them. He took their tails and gave them agility I never would have thought of. Yet, he allowed them to remember parts of me, yet was entirely ignorant of their meaning.
Making my way in a carefree waltz, I had no need to be quick about my task. I had the first book they couldn't destroy, no matter how powerful they may be; the protections my Brownies made for the Citadel were far more than they could handle, even all these thousands of years later. This ruined city, just on the outskirts of the walls of Glaion, I believe they called it now. Despite the towers having been covered in time with ash, mud, and river deltas, I still knew what I was looking for.
Relishing the feeling of the cold water against my feet, I still marveled at just how powerful Illy was. While taking just the smallest amount of power from her to heal myself, her spark continued to grow brighter every day. I was beginning to feel alive again, mind you, nowhere near what I had, let alone to feel well. But alive. I could breathe again!
Pitching my voices in a series of three, an octave to match, a crescendo to harmonize, and a melody to calm, I walked into the water. A bubble of air followed me down as I danced in slow motion, as the water pressed back on me. My song echoed far out into the seas, though their coastlines were different, though the sea was far shallower than it had once been, I remembered the first time my children had found this place.
I loved watching them learn about the things I had made for them, the currents, the depths, the new songs of the earth bubbling in fires below. A school of fish swimming past me broke me out of my reverie, remembering that I was looking for something here. Another buried tower.
Well, a tower was the wrong word, a spire that used to sit at sea level with the coast. From what I had seen, it should only be a few hundred feet below the surface. Changing my song just enough to see in the gloom like it was the noonday sun, I could already spot the top of it, some several hundred feet off, as its needle poked from the drop off.
Quickening my pace, shifting my form just enough to let me swim, my song far quieter than before. "Best not let the Shadows hear your voice even down here." I thought to myself, as the drop off was suddenly under me, even with my magic working, my eyes to see in this murk and darkness, it was an inky void.
Undaunted by this, I swam down toward the base of the spire. Things moving in the dark, old relics. Vestiges of the war, poor lost souls that I could do nothing to help. Monstrosities made out of the Children, swimming in endless patrols around the structure. Tentacles and teeth, beaks and claws, their skin hardened and covered in scales. My sister would have been sick to see her Children in such a state. "Alnya, I'm sorry there isn't anything I can do for them."
Another voice made me bolt toward the base, making my way toward the airlock that I knew would be there. "Mother?" How it had sensed me, I was unsure. But all the shapes around the spire suddenly turned toward me, moving far quicker than they should have been able to in the water.
Damn it all. I shifted my form fully, knowing that would be noticed, but being caught here would be far worse. The webbing on my hands and feet shifted into lithe fins, as my tail changed to a long paddle fin pushing me through the water at a breakneck pace. The water in front of me was boiling with speed, pressing my magic against me; the water pushed me faster.
Another shape appeared just outside my eyeline. I could feel the Shadow Touched getting closer as the airlock came into view. I felt that sickening feeling as one of the Shadows had brought its full form to find what had happened. A feeling I knew well, Shadow Gluttony, that thing would swallow me the instant it got close. My heart felt as if it would burst from my chest, and I grimaced as I opened my mouth, turning to face the horrors behind me.
Squandering what little power I had saved up, they were inches behind me. Their eyes were familiar from the ones I knew, their names coming to mind as my scream froze the water in a great sphere. Had I not been underwater, one could have seen the tears in my eyes. Bolting down to the air lock, slamming my tail against the still glowing button on the wall.
The water drained away in an instant, as the door slammed shut. Massive metallic bolts locking into place as the entire structure shook from the nuclear devices going off just outside. I always hated those weapons that Syn's Children had made, but they were necessary. Even now. Sitting up as my form shifted back to my preferred state, the lights slowly came online as an automated voice filled the room. "Welcome to Spire Coast Cloud. Security protocol seventeen has been enacted. Shadow defense is now engaged throughout the facility. Please do not touch the glowing runes."
They had gotten so much more afraid as the war raged on the Cradle. My children. I lay down as the voice asked another question. "State purpose for visit. Security measures are now being deployed to the air lock basin."
"I need no reason, I am Vilorlith," I said dully, thinking about the weeks of power I had just spent to get in here.
"Voice recognition verified. Welcome, Great Mother. Security forces enroute to escort you to the control panel." There was no one coming; I could hear not a single heartbeat in this tomb. I would probably find more bones, bones I would grieve.
