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UE Rewrite: B5 — 9. Skybound Skirmish
🕑 Added 2025-07-11 23:35:16 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Elinor (Our Lich Empress!)
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The constellations wheeled overhead as Tempest carried them through the night sky, his electromagnetic organs humming with contained energy. Twin moons cast their ethereal glow across the valley below, painting the landscape in silver and gold while distant comets traced their ancient paths between unfamiliar stars.
Wind whipping past her, Elinor had to keep her legs positioned so the dress wouldn’t be caught and torn on the sharp gusts. Within the humid, high-altitude gales, she caught the rich, earthy scent of the jungle below as they returned to the valley.
Pressed against her silken throne, she looked heavenward, checking the position of the moons against the horizon, calculating the remaining darkness.
Possibly eight hours until dawn… I expected to be gone longer with Butter. I could go back to the city and receive more updates, or…
A small smile lifted her lips as she turned her gaze to the north, east, then south.
I could pay a small visit to Klaus, but that could have political fallout, she internally reasoned, mouth pulling back into a line. If the nalveans have air detection and defenses, then that could sabotage his efforts.
Hmm. Maybe I could do a little reconnaissance of the eastern grasslands? We’re watching the valley entrance, but by the time we see that, things might escalate too quickly to respond properly. With so many humans trying to make it to Nethermore, they could get caught out in the opening if the Great Clans move faster than we expect, she noted, tilting her head to the left, where tiny flickers showed large campfires and smoke.
Debating it for several seconds, she concluded that her appointment with the hag and her mother was far enough away for a quick scouting trip. She directed Tempest privately to tilt away from the north, taking them toward the eastern grasslands.
“Empress?” Theresa inquired. “Are we changing destinations?”
Only for a bit of a detour, she returned, glancing around at the living map below them—over 200 by 140 kilometers of dense jungle carved by rivers and dominated by the massive black fortress at its northern shelf. Why? Are you not enjoying the view?
“Not at all. It is…breathtaking. This world can be magical.”
That, it can be…
A comfortable silence closed in, isolating them in the scenic vista. Tempest maintained his current speed, cruising at nearly 180 miles per hour, the landscape flowing beneath them with dreamlike fluidity under the starlight.
The wyvern banked smoothly to the east, his massive form cutting through the air as he grew more accustomed to the far more open heavens outside his natural habitat. Elinor traced the curving river that forged its way through her valley, noting how much ground they were covering.
I need to develop an air force of some kind. Perhaps that is one reason to explore the Cradle further… So much to do.
As they passed over the mesa and the misty scar the Avana had created, she turned her sight further to the east. The snow-capped mountains to their north grew larger by the second, yet Tempest maintained a straight course, taking them over a large, table-like mountain that she made a note of; it would be a perfect lookout location.
Exiting the valley, Elinor leaned to the side, looking down at the hundreds of meters drop to the lowlands and the vast, Wandering River that curved northeast. The dense jungle giving way to rolling forests and hills.
From this height, the defensive advantages of Nethermore became even more apparent. The fortress commanded not just the valley’s northern shelf, but also visual control over every approach route, and that wasn’t even counting the valley’s natural defenses. There were choke points on all sides.
The transition from valley jungle to grasslands was gradual but unmistakable. The towering trees gave way to rolling hills covered in golden-green grass that swayed beneath the alien moons.
“It goes on as far as the eye can see,” Theresa murmured, though Elinor caught the subtle tension in her voice as they moved beyond familiar territory. “Herds, Empress. They look tiny from this height, but…they’re like dinosaurs. I thought the valley was colossal. This is…”
An alien world, Elinor chuckled.
The grasslands stretched to the horizon and beyond—an ocean of prairie. Even at Tempest’s considerable speed, the landscape seemed to flow endlessly beneath them, kilometer after kilometer of rolling terrain that spoke of a world whose continents could swallow Earth’s landmasses whole.
My dad believes this world might be as large as ten times the size of Earth, given the curve we can see. That’s math I’m not exactly versed in, but it does make me wonder what else this planet is hiding, given Ke’Thra’Ma’s story about his adventure to the far north…
She smiled down at her wyvern as his powerful wings took them slightly higher, electricity sparking across his wings, electromagnetic organs fluctuating with something that might have been vertigo. The creature’s instincts were calibrated for the confined spaces of underground ecosystems.
We have evidence of a mountain-sized dragon that lives up there, after all. In fact, maybe Tempest’s creation was based on what they found in the north.
“Ten times Earth’s size?” Theresa hummed, the sound musical and refined, given her Songstress Class. “I am no expert in science myself, Empress, but wouldn’t that make this planet the size of a gas giant?”
Possibly the size of Jupiter, Elinor stated, repeating her father’s recent theories; her parents loved to bounce those topics back and forth within the Nexus. Yes, massive enough to make our valley conquest look like claiming a neighborhood garden… Our valley is already larger than most European countries, and it’s a tiny portion of this singular continent.
“And the Nalvean Empire?” Theresa followed up, seemingly truly curious as she tilted her head to the south, following nocturnal herds moving toward the great lake empire. “I’ve only heard stories from Emelina when she sends me reports about the maids to keep me updated.”
I don’t know that answer. Far larger than our valley, and they have as many as eighteen city-states, according to Klaus. This is something of a nightmare to try and gauge distances… How did Krava navigate to any Great Clan city if there’s…nothing I can see from this height?
“Perhaps they’re hidden underground?” the head maid offered.
Wouldn’t that be something?
Elinor found it hard to identify any grounding landmarks in the endless sea other than the wide river that curved to the north. The grasslands weren’t uniform, which was both tactically interesting and logistically terrifying.
As they flew deeper into the prairie, distinct ecosystems became apparent. The grass itself varied from the golden-green near the valley to deeper amber further out, with patches of silver-white vegetation that seemed to glow under the twin moons.
Rolling hills created a landscape of gentle valleys and elevated plateaus, each supporting different types of flora that painted the terrain in subtle gradients of color. As disorienting as it was, it was undeniably beautiful.
Different ecosystems meant different resources, different challenges, and different opportunities for exploitation. All different ways for enemies to approach her territory. The concerning part was that every side of her valley appeared to have its own unique terrain.
But through it all, it was the life that truly amazed her:
Herds moved across the grasslands like living clouds, massive congregations of creatures that stretched for kilometers. Enough to easily fuel her empire, even with the hundreds of thousands she was about to absorb.
In the moonlight, Elinor could make out what appeared to be herbivores—some resembling oversized cattle with six legs and broad, sail-like appendages along their backs, others more similar to Earth’s bison but with elongated necks and crystalline growths protruding from their skulls that matched unique formations that occasionally broke through the prairie floor.
Potential energy storage? Defensive mechanisms? Either way, creatures of that size, with built-in armor, could be a problem if the Great Clans utilize them as the valley ri’bot use torlim, she concluded.
“Are those…sleeping?” Theresa asked, pointing to one particularly large herd that had settled for the night.
The creatures had formed defensive circles, adults on the perimeter with young in the center—a behavior pattern that suggested intelligence and organization. Their breathing was creating a visible mist in the cool night air, casting an ethereal fog that drifted across the grass.
Tempest’s snort and head movement caught her attention, following his gaze to movement near the edge of one herd. Predators, their sleek forms weaving through the grass with practiced stealth. They moved in packs, coordinating their approach toward the sleeping herbivores like wolves, only the size of Hollywood raptors.
I think there are plenty of opportunities to collect guard dogs in this kind of environment, she mused. Our valley was artificially created, so predators didn’t naturally develop, but out here…the circle of life is whole. Wait… What’s that in the distance?
“Rivers…of silver?”Theresa inquired, head tilting to the right to look past her chair. “They’re completely different from the normal waterways coming from the north.”
As they neared, trees came into view, lining the waterways—not the massive jungle giants of the valley, but graceful species with weeping branches that trailed in the constant grassland currents. Their bark had a metallic sheen that reflected the moonlight even from this distance, creating corridors of silver fire that stretched across the landscape.
The rivers themselves teemed with life. Bioluminescent creatures moved through the wide waters like liquid starlight, their trails creating temporary constellations beneath the surface. Larger shapes broke the surface occasionally—predators or perhaps creatures coming up for air, sending ripples across the phosphorescent displays.
The light patterns were too organized to be random. Some form of communication? Navigation? Either way, they opened up more ecosystems for her to explore. Her mother would be screaming with curiosity, but they had enough mysteries to uncover within their own lands at the moment.
Along the banks, different herbivores from those they’d seen on the open plains gathered to drink. These were more delicate than their prairie cousins, with longer legs and more streamlined builds that suggested they were built for speed rather than defense. Their drinking patterns were careful, nervous, always ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.
I think we’ve already travelled over fifty kilometers from the valley, and still…no city or ri’bot Great Clan in sight. She glanced ahead, squinting into the distance as she told Tempest to start taking more zig-zag patterns, worried they might actually be more north or southward. Want to take a bet, Theresa?
“Unfortunately, I am morally against betting, Empress. If we are talking about guesswork, I am happy to oblige and say…thirty, maybe forty more minutes?”
Hmm… If it’s that long, then we have a problem. I see trails woven into the grass, but I can’t tell if they’re from ri’bot patrols or natural herd migration patterns… If they are this far out from the valley, then maybe we don’t need to be so concerned about an attack in the immediate future…but that doesn’t make any sense from Krava’s perspective.
“Maybe he didn’t know how far the Great Clans were himself,” Theresa theorized. “The valley clans do seem to be extremely isolated from the rest of the world outside their little… Not so little world,” she corrected with a mature chuckle.
You could be right, Elinor murmured, observing lakes and what looked to be artificially created dams, but could be natural with this being an alien world. I am starting to wonder if we’ve passed them, though. We’ll take wider patterns to cover more ground. However, the size of this grassland can support…quite a large civilization.
They flew for over an hour longer through the grasslands, weaving in wide arcs, and the scale of it all amazed her. Herds that had seemed large from a distance revealed themselves to be merely fragments of much larger congregations. Some migrations stretched for dozens of kilometers—millions of creatures moving in coordinated patterns that spoke of seasonal behaviors refined over countless generations.
The logistical implications were staggering. These herds represented more biomass than the entire valley population, and they were mobile. An army that could control and direct these migrations would have access to resources that dwarfed anything traditional warfare could provide.
The predator-prey relationships were equally complex. She observed pack hunters that could serve as scouts, solitary stalkers, perfect for assassination missions, and even what appeared to be parasitic species that lived within the larger herds while feeding on them—natural infiltrators.
Flying creatures—far smaller than Tempest—swooped through the night sky in their own hunting patterns, occasionally diving toward the grass to snatch smaller prey. It was slightly amusing when they finally took notice of them; every flock would dart to the ground and hide.
“How do the Great Clans control a territory this vast? We haven’t seen a single patrol or ri’bot” Theresa whispered as they passed over another endless expanse of grassland. “We could have missed them due to the sheer number of living creatures that live here, and maybe they don’t patrol at night…but wouldn’t we see camps?”
That’s a good point, Elinor returned, vision wandering between packs. It’s harder to find a race that doesn’t use fire, though. Also, they could be sleeping along the bank, below the treeline of the silver rivers. They seem to come from the far east, not the north. But if there’s an army, like Krava wanted to bring against me, then we’ll see it…
Not five minutes later, the landscape began to show signs of civilization. The wild herds gave way to more organized groups, guarded by mounted ri’bot.
Finally… We must be at least an hour or more away from the valley, and that’s flying. No wonder Krava hasn’t returned with an army yet. Go higher, Tempest, we don’t want to draw too much attention…
Cleared pathways cut through the grass, wide enough for large military formations to move without difficulty. The transition was telling. These ri’bot hadn’t just learned to survive in this environment, but learned to shape it, control it, and exploit it. That spoke of generations of experience and sophisticated understanding of large-scale resource management.
“They’re gathering,” Theresa calmly noted, seeing the large camps a distance away, where what could have been another settlement shone on the horizon. “Does this mean Krava has gotten their support? Will they attack the valley?”
They’re at least preparing for the possibility.
Elinor hummed, gaze lifting. Rising from the grasslands like a monument to ri’bot ambition, the city appeared with a giant silver lake in its backdrop. Towering stone walls enclosed a settlement roughly the size of Nethermore’s Administrative District.
Damn… These are not the valley ri’bot. This is what Valdar dreamed they’d become…
She directed Tempest to move closer, using the night as cover and hoping his reflective scales would hide them from any lookouts. Their structures’ surfaces were etched with intricate carvings that caught the moonlight.
Circling the area for five minutes, she caught several details. Beyond the walls, angular buildings of smooth stone rose in organized districts on the shores of the silver lake, teeming with sophisticated wooden rafts. It looked like the ri’bot hunted during the night, diving down and using some kind of nets. Crank-style cranes drew them up, gathering large schools of fish.
Tempest’s wings sparked with electrical flashes, drawing her focus and following his gaze to their left—three large birds of some kind were taking to the air from two massive towers.
It looks like we’ll have company soon… A conflict with the Great Clans might actually get messy. If they have an air force, as well, then they could send scouts to observe our current progress in the valley within days.
“Shouldn’t we retreat?” Theresa inquired, not fear but caution in her voice. “Wouldn’t these be more scouting units, responding to reports about a strange shape in the sky?”
Yes, we need to return, but not right away. Elinor’s attention returned to the city, squinting and trying to gain more details because they wouldn’t have this opportunity again. Unlike the jungle, which has cover and moisture saturating the air, these grassland ri’bot probably can’t survive long under the harsh, open sun… The cool night is their natural element.
“Why haven’t they sent scouts? Wouldn’t we have seen these eagle-like birds?” her maid asked as Elinor took another look at the streets upon a closer fly-over. “They don’t appear to be as large as Tempest, but they’re far larger than anything that flies inside the valley, even larger than the dragonfly-like mounts the Susime use.”
Below them, the city thrived with activity. Ri’bot moved through streets without lights, showing their excellent night vision. This was a militarized society. And everywhere she looked, there were creatures—not torlim, but many of those giant animals she’d seen on the grasslands.
Professional soldiers, mounted cavalry, and aerial forces…with a fully integrated war economy for supply chains for a siege. Fantastic. According to Roxim, there are two Great Clans united—the Great Morseng and Great Polsan Clans—which suggests this might be one capital city for two. Not good…but not necessarily enemies, yet.
“Empress, should I keep my silence? They’re approaching…”
No need, Elinor chuckled, following her gaze to the birds as they took up a formation to fly alongside them. They aren’t going to engage immediately since Tempest is totally unknown. And when they see he’s mounted, that will trigger protocols, I’m sure. Assess, warn, and direct us to land… What we do will matter.
She could sense Theresa’s internal concern. Elinor was more intrigued than fearful or cautious, though. Time to see exactly what kind of military capabilities we are working with, because I’m no ordinary opponent.
Theresa’s internal spike told Elinor she wanted to say, “Your father would disapprove of a direct engagement.” But, she didn’t voice it, knowing her opinion would be felt regardless, and it wouldn’t change the outcome. Instead offering a simple:
“Stay safe, Empress.”
Blame Butter for my impulsive urges. And I’m not going to be too mean. I’m just saying hello…
Tempest’s powerful wings increased strength, pushing them higher and forcing the eagles to follow into high altitudes. His mirror scales reflected the moonlight, shining in one of the eagle’s and the rider’s eyes.
Elinor’s smile lifted as her fingers brushed against her silken harness, and she pulled the release. Wind whipping her off Tempest’s back, she kept her legs tight, dress bundled between them as she spun off in a free fall, right in the path of one of the blinded eagles.
The wyvern’s electromagnetic organs sparked, his scales collecting ambient energy from the alien starlight and twin moons. A high-pitched cry echoed across the grasslands as one of the eagles spotted her swift action, too late.
Squinting, the blinded bird came into full view of Elinor, making her teeth flash with wonder. Eagles with wingspans of perhaps fifty to sixty feet, their feathers designed for silent flight and rapid maneuvers.
On its back was a single ri’bot warrior, equipped with long spears and what appeared to be additional equipment secured to their mounts’ harnesses. The rider moved with his mount, as if he’d been born in the saddle.
Tempest, keep the other two busy. No lethal lasers, but keep Theresa safe. We aren’t escalating but probing.
[Chain Break: Activated]
A spike shot through space in front of the rider, not the bird, passing straight through him to link with Elinor’s open palm, linking them. Locking the stunned warrior in place, the chain pulled taut, her soul willingly paralyzed, as if frozen in space and protecting her from the whiplash.
Yanked after him, the ethereal links drew her to the toad until she managed to reach the saddle. The eagle responded immediately, breaking away from the formation to spin, carrying them both into a nose dive that had her laugh inside as they pinwheeled toward the city.
Unable to shake her and noticing something was wrong with its rider, the bird broke the fall, only fifty meters above the building roofs, pulling up to stabilize itself. High above, an electrical discharge flashed out, like bolts of lightning, causing shrieks from the birds to ignite the night.
The ri’bot warrior struggled against her soul prison, his willpower pressing against the spiritual bonds that held him fast. Elinor could feel his resistance through the connection—not panic, but disciplined effort to break free. Professional training in action.
The eagle beneath them slowed its flight to take a stationary position in the sky, its intelligent eyes looking back over its shoulder, clearly trying to assess this unprecedented situation. The creature’s head tilted at different angles, studying her with what appeared to be genuine curiosity rather than simple animal instinct.
Standing behind the saddle seat, Elinor maintained her balance through the chain connection. The warrior’s body served as her anchor point, the spiritual link distributing her weight and the g-forces of their aerial maneuvers directly through his frame and soul. She could sense his discomfort as his entire being was forced to support her stability.
The bird attempted to shake her off with sudden banking maneuvers, but the chain link made it impossible—every force applied to her was transferred directly to its rider.
“Do you speak Valley Common Tongue?” Elinor called over the wind, her voice carrying clearly in the thin air.
“I…do,” the warrior replied, his voice strained as he bore the weight distribution through their spiritual connection. The eagle’s banking had intensified his discomfort. “What are…your intentions? Who do you…serve, the Ques’ka?”
“I do not know who they are. Enlighten me…”
He was silent for a moment before saying, “An immensely powerful nation to our southeast…”
“Intriguing. East of the Nalvean Empire? Good to know. No, I do not serve the Ques’ka. I am Empress Elinor,” she replied calmly, adjusting her stance as the eagle tried another series of evasive maneuvers. “The one Elder Chief Krava is courting your Great Chiefs to go to war with. Though I have no particular desire for war. See, I’m not attacking your friends up there,” she pointed.
The rider’s resistance faltered slightly—whether from recognition of her name or the unexpected weight pressing through his soul. “The…Death Empress of the Pits…”
“If that’s what they’re calling me, yes. I’d push back against that Pits imagery, but that’s beside the point. I’m not here to pick a fight.” She paused as the eagle attempted a sharp climb, the g-forces pressing down through their connection. “Oof. You might want to have your friend stop because all of this pressure is going right to you. I wouldn’t want your lungs crushed. That defeats the whole purpose of this chat.”
The wincing toad made a series of clicks with his tongue that caused the bird to slow and take a more stationary angle as Elinor whispered into his bumpy ear gland.
“I’ve become the legal Great Chief of the valley, under the sight of the Supreme Chiefs themselves. All clans have accepted my leadership, and the Komath have abandoned their lands instead of challenging my rise… Elder Chief Krava has taken the coward’s route.”
“Impossible,” he gasped, though she could feel his assessment shifting through their link. “The Elder Chief would…”
“Would never leave his people to beg your leaders to save his pride? Very possible. And very real.” Elinor's voice took on a more diplomatic tone. “I’ll say it again. I don’t want war, rider. I want relations. Dialogue. Trade, perhaps. Tell your leaders that I seek diplomatic talks, not bloodshed. The Elder Chief would have them think otherwise.”
Above them, Tempest’s electrical discharges continued to flash across the night sky, keeping the other two eagles at a respectful distance while illuminating the darkness with brilliant blue-white light, like a lightning bolt in the heavens.
“You expect me to believe…” The warrior struggled against another wave of transferred weight as the bird ruffled its feathers, clearly agitated. “To believe that the valley clans would unite under…foreign leadership? That the Supreme Chiefs would approve?”
“What I expect from you is to deliver the message,” Elinor corrected. “It isn’t your place to question my claims. Let your Great Chiefs know that the new valley leadership seeks peaceful contact. We’re neighbors now, whether we like it or not. We can choose to be cooperative neighbors…or cause a tragedy on all sides for one Elder Chief’s pride.”
The warrior was silent for a moment, save for his labored breathing. Finally: “What kind of negotiations are you suggesting… Where?”
“The foothills at the base of the path into the valley. I’ll have people watching… That should be neutral enough territory since, technically, it is still in your lands. But think carefully, the question is whether we figure out how to coexist or spend the next few months bleeding each other dry…and for what prize?”
She could feel his consideration through their spiritual link, weighing her words against what he’d been told to expect from the “Death Empress.” Without a doubt, Krava had done his best to poison the well, but hopefully, not to the point of total rejection.
“Your message will be delivered,” he muttered.
“Excellent.” Elinor smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, and don’t make the mistake in thinking I do not have my own air forces,” she chuckled, directing his gaze to Tempest in his dive toward them from above. “I’m a terrible enemy…but a heavenly ally.”
With that, she released her grip on the saddle and leaped backward into open air, chain links shattering. Another shot out at her back, passing through her chest to latch onto her silken throne, carrying her back onto her mount and causing the stress to pull on Camellia’s construct—naturally, the steel-like thread held.
Retaking her throne, with a tad difficulty due to air pressure, she slipped her harness back on with a satisfied sigh. Behind them, the three eagles regrouped, their riders no doubt processing what had just occurred—the two who were chasing Tempest showed signs of singed feathers, clearly disgruntled by the encounter.
From the direction of the city, at least a dozen more aerial shapes were taking to the sky—reinforcements arriving too late to matter.
Tempest’s speed quickly carried them beyond pursuit range, his powerful wings eating up the distance as they headed back toward the valley. The electromagnetic displays along his scales had dimmed now that the immediate threat had passed.
“How did negotiations go?” Theresa asked, her voice carefully neutral as she processed what she’d just witnessed. “Tempest certainly felt exhilarated by the combat.”
The wyvern released a chipper cry that made Elinor chuckle and reach down to stroke his scales. As can be expected. Bluff a little. Show a bit of force and mystery… Let their imaginations run wild. But negotiations haven’t even begun, Elinor replied, settling back into her throne and watching the grasslands once again open up before them. That was just an invitation. Hopefully, they’ll take it…
She didn’t say it. She didn’t have to. Just the sight of so many air combat units made it clear they were at a sharp disadvantage. If they wanted to survive, Elinor would likely need Castria to join the fight, potentially even some of her friends to handle the aerial combat.
“I see.”
Theresa didn’t need to ask what would happen if they didn’t. Obviously, it would go the same route as the Xaltan.
The grasslands flowed beneath them in endless waves, beautiful and terrible in their vastness. Somewhere behind them, a ri’bot warrior was delivering a message that could change everything. Whether that change led to peace or war remained to be seen.
In the meantime, she had a date with her mother and a hag.
Elinor’s lips curved slightly at the thought of the potent creature. You know, if things don’t work out, I could always trick them into attacking her new marshlands. What does a hag do to her enemies if they’re already toads? She asked Theresa, making the head maid giggle softly.
Whatever the case… We need to get Nethermore secured.
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