necariin
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Chapter 542
🕑 Added 2023-01-23 19:28:53 +0000 UTCMy keyboard broke! I'd like to say I was writing so hard it shattered, but really some cereal and milk got spilled on it and now six letters don't work lol. New keyboard is on the way, but for now I'm writing on this old backup that makes my hands/wrists sad.
Edit: Turns out I forgot to schedule this to post and then fell asleep! Up now, but a little later than expected. Regular 8am postings to resume on Wednesday!
Regardless, the show goes on!
Enjoy!
ToC
* * *
Late as it was, the evening sped by fast. As dawn stretched its rosy fingers across the valley, Felix and Pit were curled up in his chambers beneath the Temple. The bed was huge, easily large enough to fit both of them comfortably, and while the base was fashioned from stone, it had been padded with a lush mattress and draped in silken sheets. It was the only luxury that Felix had actively pursued. The rest of his room was relatively barren, perhaps in spite of the bevy of furs, tapestries, and furniture that numerous people had gifted him. Those had all gone to storage or his friends. Felix didn’t spend much time in his room anyway.
Last time I used this bed was…two weeks ago? I think? He stared up at his ceiling, which was carved from a variegated green stone into a network of interlocking stars and vines. Greater Serpentinite. Cool rock.
He hadn’t been able to sleep that night. Memories of Siva’s vast bulk crowded his thoughts, seeding fissures of horror through even his most mundane contemplations. So, for the last five hours, he had been subjecting himself to a grueling routine. Exposure training. If the gods were horrors beyond comprehension, then Felix would just have to get used to it.
His perfect recall pulled up the gargantuan features of Siva once again, and Felix flinched. Not as hard as before, but it hurt. Again.
Sometime around hour four there had been a buzzing inside his core space, where his Bastion of Will resided. It was the bulk of his mental defenses, and also the highest leveled Skill he possessed. Distantly, Felix had hoped this would be enough to push it into Master Tier, but no such luck. The buzzing had subsided, and his Bastion went back to dutifully holding ground between his Mind and everything else.
Felix flinched. It was, perhaps, a tiny bit less. Maybe.
The process was boring, and had driven him to look into other things through the long night. One which had been his Hunger. Felix had been pleased that the dark void inside of him had responded to his call when Siva had tried her shit—it had been basically unresponsive for months. Now it was rumbling pleasantly in his chest, like a cat in a sunbeam.
Hunger. You there? he had asked.
There had been no response.
Felix was simply happy his Hunger had reacted at all. While he hadn’t had a problem pushing back at Siva’s fragmented Will, he hated to see a System resource vanish from his grasp. Based on how it had arrived in his core space, the Title had likely been extremely potent; who knew what it would have given him? It was, he reasoned, a fair price to pay for a happy Hunger.
The fact that Siva had been able to refuse him the Title in the first place was another thing entirely. Goddess of Fortune and Oaths, she clearly had ties to the power Felix now felt inside of him. Just as she had ties to his Chain-Breaker Title and Skein of Fate, both of which the goddess did not like at all. What else is new?
Skein of Fate let him form and void Oaths, his own and others. There was little in the way of penalties for voiding those Oaths, at least for himself; the first person he’d done it too had basically melted. It earned him the enmity of a goddess and cost him a good deal of energy to use the Skill, but that wasn’t as big an obstacle for him as it might be for others. No matter the energy—Essence, Mana, even significance—it was something Felix could find with enough time and Chthonic Tribute. As far as the gods were concerned…well they never liked him much anyway.
The real question, the one that Felix kept circling back to as he laid in the dark, was whether the Pool of Halcyon Oaths was worth it. He could still sense the thick cable of connection between himself and the pool…and to Siva beyond. Should he sever it with Skein of Fate? He could feel it was possible.
Today will be the test. If Labyrinthine Wing proved useful, Felix would keep it. And if it’s a liability or a trap, then I’ll rip it out by the roots.
Felix’s only consolation was in the nature of the Halcyon Oath itself. The cord that clung to him was less a link to the goddess than to oaths themselves, represented by that network of silver threads upon her back. Felix knew that with a bone-deep certainty, though he couldn’t explain how. Those threads, if Knowledge was to be believed, did not originate with Siva at all, but instead came from this Veridaan person. A Primordial.
So…what? Siva stole the power from a Primordial?
Were the gods…like him?
Somewhere outside his mountain home, a swell of birdsong filled the air. Felix sat up, halting his painful training and reveling cessation of the constant, low-level pain. “Wake up, Pit.”
Dawn had come.
There were things to be done.
* * *
“Do you ever feel like those murals are watching us?”
Vess was not normally one for superstition, but walking the halls of the Temple was particularly eerie in the small hours of the morning. Admittedly the corridors she traveled were not used by any save a select few, so they remained unnaturally quiet even at the height of the day’s activities.
“No,” said a deep voice. It came from beneath her cowl, where the quilted jerkin folded over her woolen cloak, and was followed by a golden snout covered in whiskers. Yintarion of the Cerulean Skies wriggled his tiny nose. “They are nothing more than simple art pieces. I smell no enchantments save for durability.”
The Dragoon in training considered the twitching snout as it fled back into the recesses of her collar. “You could smell such things?”
“A Dragon’s senses are among the most highly attuned in all the Continent. If I could not distinguish between paltry enchantments with only my nose, then I would not be worthy of my heritage.”
“But are a Wyrmling’s senses so attuned?” Vess asked.
Yin humphed, and a wisp of smoke floated out from beneath her collar. “Yes. Well. I once wore the advancement of a true Dragon, and though I am reduced, my knowledge is as vast as the Void itself.”
You fool, she cursed herself as wounded pride sang across their bond. She had known it was a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Vess had been trained in Diplomacy her entire life, yet speaking with her bonded Companion circumvented her careful phrasing and ignited something impetuous in her Mind. Yin had been reduced when they had bonded, going from a high Tier Dragon to a simple Wyrmling. “I apologize for underestimating you.”
“Hmph.”
Vess strode with purpose, despite her wandering thoughts. She was headed to the wide chamber they had designated a sparring room, deep on the fourth level of the Temple. Elderthrone Temple, she reminded herself. The name was entirely too new. Felix had outfitted the sparring chamber with a number of training Golems from Haarwatch, and Rory had even gifted them with a special obstacle course to test them well into Adept Tier. It was quite generous, and useful to boot, giving their more elite combatants a private place in which to train. Most others wound find their way to one of the two barracks down in town, where similar—but lower strength—obstacle courses and Golems were available.
Every morning, Vess would train. She and Yin would practice her Tempered Skills, honing them beneath the tedious banner of repetition. She was officially an Adept Tier warrior, a position that would normally mean she was ready to learn the special evolution of her Dragoon Skills. She had the Skill Books and everything. The problem, of course, was that her Skills had been irrevocably changed. Vessilia Dayne was no longer an apprentice of the Dragoons.
Or at least that’s how her senior’s would see it. One delving and they would realize her core space had been changed utterly from their perfected model. Her Skills no longer aligned with their carefully curated abilities, and thus their plans for advancement were pointless for Vess to contemplate. Instead, she leaned upon her Companion for his sage wisdom and knowledge of how things were done in distant Ages.
According to Yintarion, the Skills she had developed were mostly common among ancient Dragoons, though hers were of far higher rarity than normal. That was a relief, and coupled with Yin’s guidance, Vess was certain they would make progress. Already her Skill levels were pushing into the high seventies, and it was only a matter of time before she made it to Master Tier.
“Yin,” she said.
“What is it, child?”
Vess took a breath, bracing herself. “Do you regret bonding with me?”
There was a pause, before Yin’s entire golden head poked out of her collar. His skull was wedge-shaped, with narrow jaws, scaled features, and small crystal horn nubs sticking out of a white mane of fur. The golden tendrils of his mustache twitched, and his big gold-on-gold eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Vess licked her lips, almost hesitating, but she had committed to saying her piece. It had eaten at her long enough. “You were mighty before we were Companions, and now…I simply do not wish to be the cause of your remorse.”
In the heat of battle, as Yintarion lay dying, Vess had pushed him into a Companion Pact. The Dragon’s eagerness to fight and to pay back the debt he felt he owed had done the rest.
“Little Dragoon. Had I resented you or the circumstances of our pact, I would have long ago severed it and damn the consequences.” Yin lifted himself up, revealing his long, serpentine body and small, five-fingered forelegs.
“I see.” Earnest certainty rumbled through their connection, adding a weight to the Wyrmling’s words that allayed Vess’ fears. “And the fact that you are once again a Wyrmling—?”
“Is a wondrous opportunity I hadn’t expected.” Yin’s body pressed further out, coiling into the air as if floating on invisible currents, before turning so that his little face was only a span from her’s. “Who else would be granted the chance to reforge themselves? With the knowledge I have earned in my long years, I know methods and techniques that will give me a far greater foundation than I had previously. Power untold is within my grasp, promising me a fate far greater than the one I had been relegated to before.” He wriggled his small body. “Admittedly, the start of the path is more rocky than I expected.”
Vess smiled. “You have a plan to recover your advancement?”
“Of course I do! I am Yintarion of the Cerulean Skies! Nothing is beyond my reach!” Yin did several laps around Vess’ head, trumpeting his words into the empty hallways before alighting on her shoulder once more. “I have but to chase down my first Evolution.”
“How might I help?” she asked.
“A Dragon does not require aid.”
“I imagine not, but I would offer regardless.”
Yin raised a ridged eyebrow. “Very well. I merely need special reagents in order to pursue the perfect foundation. Only then might I attempt my first Evolution.”
“Reagents? Like what?”
“A great number of precious herbals and metals, mostly. Many of which are available in this strange land, but not all. And certainly not the final, most important piece I need.” Yin snorted a blast of luminescent smoke. “The heart of a Greater Elemental.”
Vess’ step stuttered. “A Greater Elemental? Those have not been seen in half an Age.”
“So I have gathered. Even in my time, such beings were rare, and to be gifted one of their hearts was not a common thing.” Yin sighed. “Perfection is quite hard to achieve.”
“And what of the eggs?” she asked.
Yintarion frowned. “The eggs need only my flame to keep them in stasis. To take them out of it…it is beyond my knowledge, Vessilia. Even your Autarch could not restore them, with that strange Skill he possesses.”
Vess recalled. Felix had attempted to utilize Unite the Lost, but had said the draw of significance was so deep that it would beggar even him. Even so, the man had been willing to attempt it, and only Yintarion’s objections had stopped him. For all his bluster, Yin did not wish to see someone walk the edge of oblivion for his sake.
“We would need the knowledge of a Dragon matriarch or perhaps the old Dragoons,” he continued. “And from what I have learned, the former are gone and the latter have changed so completely that I would not be surprised if they had burned such knowledge.”
A fair assumption, she acknowledged, but Vess refused to let the issue go. “We will simply have to find new avenues to pursue.”
“Perhaps.” Yin tried for a flat, unaffected response, but grief coiled beneath every syllable of his words. “And perhaps this is simply my punishment. All choices have consequences, little Dragoon.”
They rounded a bend in the hall and came into view of the Storage Facility, where a lone figure was struggling with an object bigger than itself. “Evie? What are you doing?”
“Hm? Oh, Vess! Just the person I wanted to, unf, see!” Her friend gave her a sharp, conspiratorial grin and nodded at a wagon to her side. “Think you could give me a hand with this?”
Vess immediately did just that, getting her arms beneath the lump of what looked like… “Ice? Why do you have a massive chunk of ice in the Temple halls?”
“Got it from the Storage Facility,” Evie said, grunting as they maneuvered the thing into the bed of her small wagon. The frame creaked ominously, but it held. “Ah, there we go. Got it as a reward for beating up Felix.”
Vess blinked. “You beat up Felix?”
“You beat up Felix?” Yintarion echoed her.
“Okay, don’t everyone congratulate me at once.” Evie squinted at Yin. “You don’t think I could do it?”
Yin preened, licking his foreclaw with a long, forked tongue. “Merely surprised. Defeat comes for us all. That it was you is…unexpected.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Simply that you are undisciplined and impetuous. That you overcame the Autarch is remarkable.”
“Hey, I’m—”
Vess lifted a hand, cutting off their fight before it could truly begin. “Evie, we are on our way to training. Do you wish to come with us?”
Her friend gave Yin a long, scathing look. “No. I have better things to do.”
“Of course. Training is beneath you,” Yin said, his tone light. “Go and have fun with your cold water.”
“You know what, yeah. I changed my mind. I could use a good fight,” Evie said, and bared her teeth. “You up for it, lizard?”
Yin stretched lazily, kneading his claws on Vess’ cloak. “Are you?”
* * *
“It’s here?” Karys asked. His mismatched hands were lifted before him, probing the empty air. “I cannot sense anything at all.”
They stood within a grove just east of Elderthrone. Finding the entrance point to a Dark Passage had been easy, but none of them were beneath the canopy of his Spirit Tree, as if the Atlantes’ very presence warded them away. On his Territorial Map, the Dark Passages appeared as smudges of shadow, like tunnels across the land, and they were everywhere. Where the magical tree stood, however, was a perfect circle devoid of all shadow.
“It’s here, and I can,” Felix assured his friend. “You can see it on the Territorial Map too, if you toggle the option.”
Karys flicked his fingers, bringing up his own version of the map. “So it is. And according to this, the Dark Passage stretches from this grove to the northernmost tip of the Teeth. A distance that would take a week on foot.”
“Hopefully far less for me. That’s one of the tests of this thing.” Felix pointed at the map, tracing his finger from dark smudge to dark smudge. “There’s a secondary Passage here, about half a day’s march west of the Teeth, and that’s where I’ll make the final leg. With luck, we’ll be at the Boreal Pass in just a few days.”
Karys let a soft disapproval sing through his Spirit. With no real face, the man had to rely on conveying emotions through his body language or Spirit; the latter was far easier for a ten foot suit of armor. “I do not trust them. What of the Whalemaw? Did it not attack Zara when she attempted a similar crossing?”
Felix had thought of that, of course. He patted his hip, where several dinner-plate sized stones hung from his belt on leather straps. “That’s why I have these. It’ll keep everything me contained. Pit has some too, as do the Shadows. So long as everyone sticks together, it’ll be fine.”
“And if it does not?”
“Then I’ll have to improvise.” Felix shrugged. “But it won’t come to that. The last thing I want to do is run into the Whalemaw.”
“Tell Zara…tell her that I’m handling a diplomatic errand. I’ll be back soon.”
“Very well, Felix.” Karys bowed, inclining his torso. “Safe travels, and may the winds carry you home.”
“Thanks, man.” Felix focused, sounding the strange patterns of his new Skill. “Labyrinthine Wing!”
A thick darkness coiled atop his fingers, speckled with traceries of silver like glitter among a black fogbank. Or perhaps a tiny field of stars. Instinctively, Felix reached out and, for lack of a better word, split open reality. A yawning portal opened up, the same gaseous black and silver spangles.
“Whoa,” Pit crooned. “A hole.”
Felix picked up a watermelon-sized rock and hurled it through the opening. It flew through the dark, vanishing as it passed through the starry veil. It did not, however, land behind the portal. The rock was gone.
“Alright. I’ve got my sword on me, so if you need to talk, let me know.”
“Of course.”
“Pit! Shadows! On me!” Felix stepped forward, until he was inches from the swirling portal. Behind him, Pit and four members of his personal guard crowded close. “Time to see what this thing is all about.”
Comments
Fortunis
Yin is fucking awesome 😆 🤣 little Dragon with BIG Dragon attitude 😎
Aldrin
Once a situation that could be prevented blows up in his face and hes got a dozen or two corpses at his feet, I imagine Felix will wake up. I don't know, I feel like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
inkaral
It'd be nice if Felix stopped putting certain things off... He even acknowledges he's doing so and that he shouldn't.
