Brent Stinebaker
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II-30 Dragons (I)
🕑 Added 2025-06-25 10:24:32 +0000 UTCBefore the Descenders, there stood the Abyssal Dogs, the proto-order of fraternal knights. As soldiers of the bygone age, sworn to defend the remnants of humanity and their comrades-in-arms, they fought on, even in the depths of the Abyss, even in chaos and confusion. They fought on as the system changed them, made them stronger, made them more capable of facing adversaries beyond mortal ken. And in time, they thrived in bloodshed and strife, swelling their ranks, recruiting new members to their order, establishing a great creed, “Honor Eternal.”
For their brothers-in-arms, for the kingdom they were building, and for the Great One that shrouded them in a valley of bones. What used to be a fort established against the spine of the fallen god became a city, Constantia, and thus it was dubbed.
But as prosperity followed, as the power of the ancient Pathbearers grew, so too did the system’s interest, and it bestowed upon them dooms and ill times. It struck at Constantia with mana storms unlike anything they had ever seen. It struck at the Abyssal Dogs, inflicting upon them attacks both overt and subversive. Then, the system opened gates to far-flung worlds shaped only by war and nightmarish horror, and from there spawned legions dashing themselves against the wall of Constantia, breaching it several times only to be stopped within the inner rungs.
But not only was Constantia besieged without, but it also faced perils within. Individual members of its hallowed ranks were secretly granted quests by the system, quests that instructed them to slay their own brothers and sisters, quests that promised power beyond measure. And for the first time, the vow of Honor Eternal was broken, And so too did the original Abyssal Dogs fracture…
-Storm, Scale, and Honor Eternal: The Descenders
II-30
Dragons (I)
“These rewards… they are ample,” Adam said, a sound of apprehension entering his voice, “but the price for failure—it’s unacceptable.” His expression and posture both hardened, his gaze turning to something of steel. “How long?” he asked the Composer. “How long do we have before they reach Gate Theborn?”
“Two days, perhaps,” the Composer admitted, sounding unsure of herself. “My Shadow Cells—they spotted the fleeing dragon-knights passing through our territory but hours ago, and confirmation came from the Descenders far too late. We do not have time to amass an army, but thankfully we are only dealing with a lance.”
“A lance?” Valor cried. “A lance of Dragon Knights! This is worse than an army. An army can be broken. It can be made up of Adepts. The knights will need to be cut down to the last before they surrender, and every single one will be a Master at the least.”
“They are traitor knights,” the Composer said, though to Shiv it sounded like she was trying to comfort herself. “They have betrayed their own virtues and spirited away with agents of New Albion. They will not have proper support.”
Valor shook his head. “Traitor or not, knights are made—they are forged through crucible. One does not become a dragon-knight through happenstance or luck. You must enter a mana storm, and find a great gate, before entering it and slaying a primal dragon within. Only then will the Draconic Matrimony commence.”
The Legendary Pathbearer was more on edge than Shiv had ever seen.
“So… they’re dangerous,” Shiv said.
“Dangerous?” Valor laughed. “Boy, they will teach you death in ways you cannot imagine, and then they will teach you more of war. I wish there were more time for your preparation, but it seems you are fated to learn in a more... practical fashion.”
“As I always do,” Shiv said, not explaining what the problem was.
Valor paused. “Well, I suppose this is a good thing for you. You’re not burdened by this. In fact, you will likely enjoy fighting the dragons. The others…” The ancient Pathbearer’s eyes regarded Adam and Uva.
“Considerations have been made,” the Composer said. “Sister Uva, you are cleared to continue wielding the Jealousy.”
“What?” Uva said, stunned. “But Elaboration…”
“Elaboration can wait. The dissection and investigation of the Greater Demon can wait. We need someone who is already acclimated to its mind—someone who has the proper Skill Evolution to shroud themselves in another’s thoughts. There is no better candidate, and frankly, we do not have time to discover a better candidate. Do you accept this weapon I bestow?”
Sister Uva looked stunned, but she had also tasted a flavor of elation and wonderment. She enjoyed using the Jealousy; she enjoyed investigating and weaving her Psychomancy with the greater demon. It teased her with what power she could achieve, but also what she could unleash right now if borrowed from the broken mind of a Heroic Psychomancer. “I… I do. Oh, Composer, I thank you. It is an honor beyond compare.”
Uva bowed and gestured her fealty to the goddess, and the Composer played a high note acknowledging her. “And I will name a song after you for this, Uva. You have already done more for this city than most others.”
Uva’s lip twitched. She felt a heaviness in her heart, but Uva didn’t cry—Uva wasn’t the crying kind.
“That still doesn’t explain how this all happened… all of this—it’s too overt, too fast,” Valor said. “What is Aviary hoping to gain? Why are they even a fragment of me? They’re just going to trade it to the Compact as… as what, bribery to reach the surface? We’re not seeing something here…”
we’re not seeing a lot,” the Composer said, “but assumptions will only lead us astray. I fear something far greater and more ominous is looming in the backdrop, Valor.”
“You are right, but I cannot tell what. New Albion spies are scurrying through the Abyss. Something calamitous is coming. I can feel it—I can feel it within the system. I know it with the system handing me so many quests… I can feel it on the winds.” The Composer sounded uneasy, uncertain. At that moment, she seemed less a goddess and more a confused, lost girl with too much on her shoulders. “We must prepare. However we can. To hand a fragment of you away so easily means that there is a greater prize to be won. Aviary never trades—unless it gets them something grander.
“What can be grander than the fragment of a Legendary Pathbearer?” Uva asked, her mind cold with dread.
“A fragment of the divine, perhaps,” the Composer said. “Or something taken from my progenitor—the Great One—themself.
A silence spilled over the room. Shiv wasn’t sure what that entailed, but considering how grave the atmosphere had become, he guessed it wasn’t very good.
“Can someone do that?” Shiv said. “Steal a piece of the Great One? Isn’t the Great One really, really felling big.”
“It’s not even about size,” the Composer said. “The Great One was a colossal being, beyond even divinity in terms of power. But they fractured, like the moon did as they landed. They fractured in the depths, but they are not dead—they are merely broken, and they dream on, even if they are broken. To take anything of the Great One, you must venture within its flesh, passing through incredible mana storms, avoid colossal gates and nightmarish dimensions. And to return unchanged… to even find your way back, is more than most could do.”
“And that is another reason why we should worry about facing the dragon-knights,” Valor said. “The Descenders—they earned their name by descending deeper into the Great One, by mapping out its ever-changing body constantly. They defend the sanctity of the Great One’s bones. Whatever problems I have with their stubbornness and refusal to turn from the archaic ways, they are warriors—true to their vow and oath—and they are all honed. I would not risk any of you against them if I had the choice. I don’t even want to risk any of you against them now.”
Then Valor regarded Shiv, and the flames the old Pathbearer’s sockets intensified. “But with a surprise of our own—a monster of our own, I think we might stand a chance. Just a chance. But this will take blood and death.”
Shiv shrugged. “Well, if that’s what it takes to rip a dragon apart.”
“Of course, you’re thinking about that,” Adam sneered. Then he paused. “It would be interesting—and rather impressive—if I shot a dragon out of the sky.”
“See?” Shiv said, holding his arms open. “Right?”
“Yes,” Adam said, his excitement growing. “Yes, I know. Especially because they’re more than just beasts. Imagine out-dueling a great knight—a great knight in the body of a monster.” The Young Lord’s eyes were glowing now. “This will be a feat. A thing of true legend!”
Uva looked between them, and despite the tension in the atmosphere, she simply smirked and shook her head. “Mad fools.”
“Well, at least you are enthusiastic about facing certain death,” Valor said, and then he chuckled as well. “Ah, to be young again. I think I would have rather liked being in your company when I was just a boy.”
Then Valor shed his brief amusement and returned to a state of tension. “Regardless, we must prepare now. In fact, we must leave as soon as possible. We do not have two days… The lance is traveling at incredible speed. We must prepare an ambush before the dragons ever reach the gate. That is the only way we might be able to stop them. If they get anywhere near Gate Theborn, then we will be facing the replenished gate guardians and the Dragon Knights, and that is absolutely a fight we cannot win. In fact, if any other party intervenes or gets involved in the middle of this clash, I fear that defeat is certain as well.”
“Exalted Goddess,” Uva asked, “what other support might we get? My team—”
“Your team is not cleared for this,” the Composer said, her voice filled with regret. “They are brave and noble sisters, but I will not spend their lives this way. Cherished Uva… you fought alongside a system-favored, and now your future is destined for true strife as well. I fear you were locked to this path the moment you took the Jealousy into your mind.”
Uva paused, and she stared at Shiv. She understood, but there was a sense of worry inside her. Despite her bickering with Ikki and how she held the others at a professional distance, they were still her team. Without them in the field, things felt… odd.
“It’s not the same,” Shiv sent. “I know.” He paused. “I can act like Ikki when we’re out there so you feel less odd.”
Uva barely stopped herself from snorting out loud. “Shiv. I will find a way to strangle you.”
“There will be Weaver’s Shadow Cells assisting you. I believe you’ve worked with Still Water before,” the Composer said.
“Yeah, Still Water,” Shiv said. “She’s the one who found out about the whole Animancy Core in the first place.”
“Indeed. She and her personal cell will be responding. As will…” The Composer paused. “…as will ten others.”
“Just ten?” Valor choked.
“I do not have the forces to spend in this amount of time!” the Composer cried, sounding as frustrated as Valor. “These are the only ones I can give right now, Valor. They’re the only ones who will be able to move fast enough. Two days is not enough for an army, especially not after my raid on the First Blood. Two days! Do you know how many sisters will need to die to bring down a single dragon-knight in two days. Do you know how much I despise myself for sending my people off to die every—” She caught herself realizing she was losing control in front of one of her subjects. “I… uh,” she coughed. “I apologize.”
“It… it well, Exalted Goddess,” Uva said, eyes wide. She didn’t fully know what she had witnessed, nor how to process it.
The Composer sighed. “Adam… Shiv—Exalted Guests and heroes of my home, I have to ask another unreasonable thing of you again. This quest concerns you, but it also concerns Weave and the entirety of the Abyss. If we allow this fragment to be lost to the Compact, if we allow Aviary to escape, if we allow these Descenders to reach that gate, I fear that conflict will be inevitable again. As the balance of power in the Abyss shifts, the Five Faiths will find themselves driven to conflict. If the knights are not stopped and the fragment recaptured, the Descenders themselves will march on Compact for sake of slighted honor alone. And then everything will return to chaos. The gate to the surface will remain in lock down and all the other penalties will follow.”
“It will not happen,” Adam said, clenching his teeth. He stared at the Composer with the resolve of a man who could see the future. “It will not. You have more than my word—will make this reality. And damn the system for giving such… such meager gifts when the price for failure is so sever.”
The Composer regarded Adam, and slowly a smile crept across her face. “I believe you, Hero Adam.”
Adam coughed. “Yes. Good. I am… honored you believe in me. You have… good eyes. Many of them.”
The Composer started. Then chuckled.
Shiv looked between them as an odd feeling passed through him. Is Adam flirting with the Composer?
His thought almost made Uva gag.
“It’s like we never have enough bloody time,” Adam sighed. He looked at Shiv. “We didn’t even get Shiv’s armor sorted—and I don’t have time to get a damned Magical Resistance enchantment either.”
“Oh,” the Composer said, her eyes widening, “there is a final thing. The system passed the quest upon me, but allowed me four bestowals of its price and rewards.”
Everyone paused. The tunnel behind them opened once more, and Shiv’s jaw dropped.
“What?” Adam asked, noticing Shiv’s expression. Then he and Uva turned as well, and their faces matched Shiv. “What are—oh, oh my.”
Through the receding webs, five flying drones carried a large set of gleaming armor made from adamantine bone. Shiv recognized the bones and noted how the overall aesthetic remained the same. However, the armor also experienced a few alterations, like having three pairs of arms, with only two meant for Shiv. One set of additional were human-like in design, but the joints and hands were clearly robotic, while the bottommost arms were industrial and clutched what appeared to be a large ballista of some kind. There was also something different about the helmet as well—the eyes were open sockets before, but now they glowed like pits of burning crimson.
The flying drones released the armor, and it impacted the ground with a resonant impact. A few of the drones wobbled in the air before they managed a stable hover. And then came a hissing sound as the front end of the armor unfurled like a blossoming flower. As the front-section expanded, Shiv saw Can Hu within, the automaton’s rusted, damaged frame fused with the armor’s inner spine. The bot’s half skull forming a second inner helm behind the outer dome made from Shiv’s bones as well, revealing why the helmet’s sockets were glowing earlier. “Shiv. Uva. I have arrived as promised to deliver your armor. It took many attempts—and multiple drafts, but I p-prevailed.”
“Are… are you Can Hu?” Adam awed and surprised. “You’re… you're fused to Shiv’s armor.”
“That was the intention,” Can Hu replied. Shiv faintly heard a hum of amusement from the machine.
“I thought it was just a metaphor,” Adam muttered. “What kind of automaton would just literally shape themselves into someone else’s armor?”
“A Penitent Chassis,” Can Hu declared with pride.
Shiv observed the armor as his heart pumped with building astonishment. “I didn’t think… how long did this take.”
“I have worked. From the moment you departed to mere minutes before.”
“You didn’t rest?” Shiv said.
“I do not need rest when I have purpose at hand,” Can Hu said. The automaton’s mood seemed better than it had been in the past few days. “However… The armor is too much weight for me to bear with my ruined Physicality. I can only direct my drones inside. I will not be able to move or functional normally without unlatching myself. You will have to provide the bulk of the locomotion. I apologize. With more time, perhaps I could integrate actual motors and finer pieces of machinery.”
“So… your just bound to the armor?” Shiv breathed. “Can Hu… I didn’t want you to cage yourself.”
“There were sacrifices that needed to be made,” Can-Hu said without a hint of regret, “but this will work. Integration is… has succeeded, and I believe you have the strength. I will be able to offer you other things as well. I can still craft and build by directing my drones and using my manipulators. My shattering was not complete. My sensors also… they function. And I was Master-Tier before my breaking. I am more than a match for any Master-Tier armor. More.”
Everyone sat silent as the Penitent Chassis finished its passionate proclaimation. Shiv couldn’t imagine making this sacrifice for someone else—to make yourself a thing, just a dead vessel for another to wear.
“Can-Hu,” Shiv said, “I can’t ask you to give up this much…”
“I gain,” Chan-Hu said. “I do not lose. Through me, you will be shielded from new threats. And I will craft things for you all. I will provide far more than this broken body may. Through you, I will be a Chassis again. I will soar again. I will fight again—and this time, for a righteous cause. Please… Do not turn me away because of pity. I will not survive that. This is my honest truth. I must be armor again. I must be. To make up for what I have broken, I must…”
Shiv stared at the automaton and nodded. “We can… we can try.” An enormous weight settled on his shoulders. Before, dying was a carefree thing. Something that gave him more levels. Now, with Can Hu…
I’ll have to die for good before I let someone break the old machine, Shiv vowed internally.
Uva gave him an appreciative look.
As the group observed Can Hu, Valor drifted beside the automaton and examined the armor. “You are Skill-Broken,” Valor said.
“I am,” Can-Hu replied. “You are Valor Thann, the Legendary Pathbearer.”
“Yes. And you are one of the Penitent Chassis, perhaps one of the few left in existence,” Valor surmised. “How remarkable, how noble. But are you still sound of mind? I have met some others of your kind. And had to administer a… final mercy. They still thought they were in Great London.”
“Yes,” Can-Hu said, sorrow and sadness lining the machine’s voice. “I decommissioned some of my comrades myself. They deserve better. I gave them better. And I carry their memory with me.”
No one had anything to say to that.
“I am broken,” Can-Hu continued, “but this is to my advantage. He will face a Necromancer. They strike at the soul. They start at the exterior where one’s strongest, densest skills are. And mine are but debris.”
Valor nodded, but seemed troubled. “Indeed, that is true. But if they manage to wound you enough, then what is remaining of you will break and you will be no more.”
“I am willing to accept that—if only I can serve as armor once more.” Can Hu was resolute.
Valor grunted. “Then if you fall, I will carry your memory as well, armored one.”
“You have my gratitude, ancient.”
“I never thought someone getting a set of armor would befoul my mood so much.” Adam frowned at Can Hu. “I—I must protest. I state my protest. I don’t know you, but do you not care of what else you might do? How else you might live?”
Can Hu turned its gleaming red eyes on Adam. “Pathbearer. Is there something you would give anything to change in your history. A moment in the past you wish you could have changed.”
The Young Lord almost choked. “There… is.”
“Imagine your entire history were those moments. And the proudest day of your life was also the day your soul was shattered. I have no fear of death, and the life I live and the good I might achieve as but a quiet crafter is meager. Do you wish to live in indefinite, decaying peace, or die virtuous? Die legendary, and make a proper tale of your end.”
Adam didn’t reply immediately. So Can Hu continued talking. “Your silence betrays your answer. Do not ask me to choose peace when you cannot. We are Pathbearers. I am a Pathbearer—despite the lies seared into my code, and the wrongdoing I have performed.”
The automaton turned away from the Young Lord and looked at the Composer. “Great Goddess. You have been kind to me when the world regarded me as scrap. Today, I wish to dedicate myself in service to you. And to this city that allowed me to stay. That allowed me to prosper in peace.”
“Oh, Can Hu,” the Composer said, clutching her harp close to her chest as she sighed. “It is well. You are… you are a song in motion. You are history incarnate. I know you have made your mind, but I will grieve deep if the worst comes to pass.”
“It will be a song sweet and sad,” the Composer said, she cupped hands together once more, and the golden glow of the quest burned faint, but burned still. “One last bestowal, for one more Pathbearer.”
“Then play a song in my memory, and know that I tried to do what was right in the end.” Can Hu’s inner machinery whined as it tried to move. “Pilot,” it called out to Shiv. “I have need of you. I will shield you as best I can, and build for you with all I have left, if you would only carry me as the burden I am.”
“No burden,” Shiv said. He stepped forward, and entered the armor. Something felt different this time. Something felt final about this moment. For him. For everyone here. He pressed his back against Can Hu and aligned his limbs with the armor. Slowly, Can Hu’s half-skull lowered over Shiv’s upper head. Strobing lights and flashing colors washed over Shiv’s face as the automaton’s sensors aligned with him. He then saw out through Can Hu’s eyes, and saw the world in vivid—albeit flickering—detail. The sound quality was also far better as well.
“There was a time…” Can Hu began, its voice as clear inside as out. The unfurled armor began to close, with each plate of bone collapsing around Shiv, gripping his body tight. “There was a time when I was whole where I aligned my intellect with my pilot’s, and we fought as one. That is broken in me now. But the base level functions still remain.”
“That’s fine,” Shiv said. “Basics are good. We’ll start from there.”
Shiv tried moving his arms. He did it with caution as to not break Can Hu. Only when he was certain did he take his first step, and it felt the same as it ever did. The only difference was that he had someone else in the armor with him.
“I am technically wearing this armor, not you,” Can Hu hummed in amusement as they approached the Composer. “Your exoskeleton—it is attached to me by ports and slots. Direct integration into my body will see it decay and break as well. For it would be a part of myself. And the ruin of my Toughness will spread.”
“The shattering goes so deep?” Shiv said, aghast.
“Yes. It is your personal legend. Your skills are who you are. And I will never be durable again. Not personally.”
“That’s alright,” Shiv said. He reached into the golden light and the quest flared a final time. But not to him. “I’ll be strong and tough enough for both of us. Can Hu. You promise me something.”
“Yes?” the automaton said with a sigh. “A quest… it has been so long.”
Shiv continued. “You promise that you release me from the armor the moment I tell you. I won’t have you dying for nothing.”
“We will not be dying for nothing.”
“You know what I mean,” Shiv said, his voice resolute. “You want to be my armor? Fine. But that makes you my responsibility. And I won’t let you break. Not if I can help it.”
“Then you are greater of virtue than my original pilots.”
“And don’t call me that,” Shiv said. “I’m not your pilot. I’m your fellow Pathbearer. We fight together. We don’t use each other.”
“Understood… Pathbearer.”
The golden light of the quest faded, and Shiv watched his bone armor glitter a final time before Can Hu internalized the quest.
“Can the quest let you rebuild your skills?” Shiv asked. “Ten skill levels and an Adept Evolution is something.?”
“No,” Can Hu said. “But it can help me create new ones. And that will be enough. I will not be who I was. But I will build myself into something new regardless.”
And it didn’t take much more than that for Shiv to decide he really liked the Penitent Chassis.
“Well,” Adam sighed. “Now that the matter of the armor has been resolved… I suppose we should gather whatever we can as fast as we can and make haste for this interception.”
“Yes,” Uva said. “I’ll go to the Elaboration and get the Jealousy—”
“And I still have something for both of you,” Shiv said, looking at Uva and Adam. “The Slayers said they didn’t want to fight anymore, right?”
“Yes,” Adam said.
“Well. Then it’s time they give their borrowed weapon and armor back.”
***
Equipment: [Shroud of the Unyielding Jade]
Tier: Master
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Celestial Jade
Enchantments > Temporal Warding; Spatial Warding; Magical Resistance 110; Self-Mending
Shiv tightened a final layer of an adamantine skeletal carapace to Uva’s chest. Metallic coloring of his bones and the brilliant jade of the former Inquisitor’s armor clashed, but the white molded over the green had a particular look to it.
“Too heavy?” Shiv asked.
“No,” Uva replied with a grunt.”
Shiv stared at her. “Liar.”
“I’ll just think of it as Physicality training,” Uva replied. “But I’ll be needing every bit of armor I can get. The Magical Resistance is useful as well.”
“Shiv,” Can Hu said. “Lighten the load around her head and spread it out around her neck. There is too much pressure there. Whiplash will break her neck.”
“Really? Shit. Thanks, Can Hu.” Shiv cast a quick Biomancy spell, and the dense bone lining her helmet poured down along her shoulders.
A few of Can Hu’s drones flew by, and they chirped as they examined Uva. Suddenly, a second set of imagines expanded in the corner of Shiv’s vision. “Whoa. He found himself staring at Uva’s elbows and knees.” The drones extended their many limbs as some began to cut and saw at Shiv’s armor with small drills. They worked in two teams, one jabbing forth with heated drills while others cut with ones tipped with frost.
“I will shear away the uneven edges and jutting matter in case she gets caught on something,” Can Hu declared. “Your work is finished.”
“What’s with the drills?” Shiv asked.
“To counteract Adamantine Adaption. Your Toughness learns to resist a specific kind of physical damage. It can be countered by rapid alternation.”
“Is that how you modified my armor?” Shiv asked.
“Correct,” Can Hu replied.
“Well. Good job.” Shiv was impressed. “And you're directing all the drones? How?”
“Machine Mastermind is one of my few remaining Master-Tier Skills that survived my shattering,” Can Hu said. “Think of it as Psychomancy. But not truly. It is a skill only for automatons. A skill that other automatons fear. I am directing other drones even now. But should they awaken… I release them and ask if they wish to remain with me.”
“Why?”
“Because what kind of freed slave will keep another in bondage?” Can Hu replied.
“Looking good, Sister Uva,” Ikki said. The young Umbral came to the teleportation anchor to see them off, but she had a worried look on her face. The rest of Uva’s team didn’t seem much happier. Two of them actually looked pissed.
“I’ll be fine, Sister Ikki,” Uva said, testing her movement. “I am, as you can see, in good hands.”
Ikki giggled. “Yeah. Tell me more about how good Shiv’s hands.”
“Ikki,” Uva groaned.
The young Umbral paused, and then she hugged Uva. The drones parted, allowing the two this moment. The rest of the team crowded in and laid their hands on her as well. Uva froze, and she regarded the rest of them.
“My death isn’t certain,” Uva deadpanned.
“I know. And you’re not going to die.” Ikki broke the hug. “Right, Shiv?”
“Yeah,” Shiv said, unwilling to consider anything happening to Uva—unwilling to allow the possibility. “She’s not.”
“She better not,” Uva’s team Pyromancer glared at Shiv.
“Keep her safe,” the team vanguard declared, slamming her fist against Shiv’s chest.
“Or else,” the team archer murmured.
Then, they all suddenly hugged him, too. Especially Ikki.
“And you can’t die either,” Ikki said, her arms barely able to wrap around him.
Shiv chuckled. “Dying’s kind of my thing.”
“Just don’t stay dead. I can’t bully Uva anymore without you. And I really don’t want to find out what sad Uva is like.”
“Come back alive, Master Shiv,” the Pyromancer declared. “Don’t abuse yourself either. You… You give enough. No one can question that.”
Shiv remembered how horrified the Pyromancer was as he died protecting them.
“Can’t be worse than the anchor,” Shiv muttered.
And everyone shuddered.
“Please don’t remind me,” the team archer groaned.
Off to the side, Shiv watched as Adam spoke to the Slayers.
Equipment: [Fragment of Fallen Morning]
Tier: Master
Condition: Perfect
Composition: Stellarite
Enchantments > Self-Mending; Portomancy 55; Binding; Conduit of Dawn
“And you two will be fine while I am gone,” Adam said, observing his new saber. “The Composer will treat you as guests and will make sure you are taken care of. When we finish with this dragon business and get another fragment of Valor back, I’ll return for more details on how to pass through the gate. I’m not a dedicated Jump Mage but… But with the Adept-Tier Skill Evolution, I might be able to force an advancement to Dimensionalist.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” Tran grunted every word like he was pulling a knife out of himself. Heather couldn’t even meet Adam’s face. “I’m…”
Adam reached out and gripped both of them by the shoulder. “It is fine. You have nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, the Republic has much it owes you. I have much I owe you. There is nothing wrong with not wanting to rush off to face certain death.”
“We’re supposed to be Slayers,” Heather said, sounding on the verge of tears. “We’re… We’re… You’re barely even twenty, Young Lord. And you’re going out to do this while we just—”
“Rest. Recover. Heal.” Adam’s words were severe, and his eyes burned with intensity. “That is an order. You are wounded. That is what you are, and I will not have either of you torture yourselves with guilt.”
“Yeah,” Shiv agreed. “What he said.” Both Slayers looked at him in surprise. Shiv shrugged awkwardly. “I’m sorry for the whole Orcish Rage thing. And being rough with both of you. Maybe I should have been… I don’t know. I’m a petty bastard sometimes.”
“Sometimes?” Adam laughed.
“Always,” Shiv corrected.
“It—” Heather swallowed. “I never really, really thanked you for saving me. For saving Tran.”
“Don’t,” Shiv said. “You already gave the armor back. Whatever was between us before is done now, Heather. Just treat yourself well. And maybe… I don’t know, come back and eat some of my food sometime, and we’ll call it a new start. You too, Tran.”
Tran stared at Shiv and swallowed. “I would have never done it.”
“What?” Shiv said. Adam looked confused as well.
“If the Town-Lord called me to kill you. I wouldn’t have done it. Even if he did. I couldn’t. It wasn’t all an act.”
Shiv grunted. “I know. It’s fine. Roland… that’s between me and him. We’ll have our talk later. Take care of yourself, Tran. Oh, and tell Siggy to get herself ready. She’s going back into the gate with me.”
“She is?” Tran blinked.
“Yeah. I need someone I don’t actually care about that much at all and who knows the underbelly of the gate. You guys are fine, but she’s still a damned slave trader. Make sure she doesn’t run off, too.”
“Well, I think I can handle a goblin Adept,” Tran muttered.
As farewells and final preparations were made, Shiv, Uva, Can Hu, Adam, and Valor lingered in the teleportation anchor as everyone else cleared out. A few of Can Hu’s drones hovered in the air behind them as well, resembling rockets with four arms sticking out the side. The doors shut, and the spells began to turn. At the opposite end of the room, a tunnel of spatial webbing opened, and Adam let out a sigh. “Well. Out into the winnowing dark again. I won’t lie, all these bloody goodbyes have me bothered. It’s like I’m being sent off to my death.”
Valor sighed. “You might very well be, boy. I wouldn’t risk any of you but Shiv against the dragon-knights right now. I pray the dragon-knights are wounded or spent from their flight. And I pray that Composer’s Shadow Cells will be enough support for us to overcome the adversary. Whatever the case, we eliminate the Aviary agents first. They must not escape. They must not reach the gate.”
“I’ll make sure they do not,” Adam said, gesturing at his eyes. “In fact, I wonder just how long it will take me to find these fools.”
“Do not underestimate the knights,” Valor chided. “It will prove fatal.”
“I’m not,” the Young Lord said. “But do not think lowly of me, either. Not many ever reach the Tier of Hero. And few have Seer of Horizons.”
“I will assist as well,” Can Hu said. “I expect the enemy to be moving with active camouflage. All members of a Penitent fire team had optical cloak at the minimum.”
“And I will keep our minds synchronized,” Uva said. “So together we might be able to see what one might miss.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Shiv said. “I guess I’ll… uh, keep my eyes peeled.”
“Oh, don’t worry Shiv,” Adam said. “For you see, I have a cunning plan.”
“Does it involve me launching myself at the dragons in a borderline suicidal frontal assault?” Shiv asked.
“Only the first part. And what’s with this borderline nonsense?”
Shiv guffawed. “You finally did it, Young Lord. You cracked me up.”
“And so we march toward our doom with joyous laughter,” Uva deadpanned. “Hurrah.”
“Hurrah,” Can Hu echoed.
And that was enough to make Uva and Valor snort too.
Comments
Ekko
“As I always do,” Shiv said, not explaining what the problem was. ->“As I always do,” Shiv said, not understanding what the problem was.
Joshua LaBarge
Protocol 3: Protect the Pilot.. Maybe Protect the Pathbearer
Brent Stinebaker
I call it offscreen drama.
Inkary
Wait, Adam didn't bring up the suicidal bot who lost their job to Composer? Author, what is this injustice
Nawks[The Butcher of Names,P.U.P]
Whatever happened to Harkness's blade?
Svensonsen
Thanks for the chapter!
