Mecanimus
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A Journey of Black and Red 189: Dragon Hunt
🕑 Added 2022-04-30 07:31:55 +0000 UTCSlowly, my consciousness returns and I realize the eye is, of course, attached to a massive head taller than I am, triangular with a squarish chin area. Armored plates thicker than any plate cover the creature, shining softly in the red light. I also realize that this head is attached to a body so massive and so long I could line eight Pookies to reach the tail and still have room for another Pookie. The retracted wings, when expanded, could blot the sun from half of Marquette. The dragon rests supine in a cavern of epic proportion, its existence an affront to every law of structural integrity. Impressively, space acts in an erratic manner, sometimes blurring the edges of the cavern until I am not sure if it is there, or I am merely looking at the reflection of some distant land. There is no source for the light, of course. The cave’s host has no need for such mundane contraptions.
The most striking features are the absolute calm spread by its presence. Merely looking at the dragon from the ground gave me vertigo, as if my senses could not quite grasp him in its entirety despite my experience with the Watcher. Nevertheless, I can gaze upon its tower shield-sized scales and feel nothing except a mild dread, even though being in close proximity should blind me. The Thirst has quieted as well, my instincts silent. Why did I ever think I could hunt this creature? I am fifty thousand years too early.
As I recover from the shock, I realize that I am not alone. Two others stand by my sides. Behind us, a long tunnel snakes back outside. I do not remember treading it.
I expected Sinead, of course, considering his involvement in the hunt’s result. Khadras is a surprise, however. I assumed the crystal part of his body and mind would not tolerate such meddling, yet here he is, a mighty scowl on his cold traits.
We stay here for a moment, quiet as mice while our host inspects us. When he finally speaks, his Likaean is the clearest, most articulated I’ve ever heard. It bears the clarity of a sovereign but none of the barely veiled power. A mellow voice like that of a perfect gentleman emerges from the air. It evokes a quiet spot in a private library, coffee, and a pleasant time. He is so unthreatening that it represents a threat itself. His control is simply baffling.
“Well, here we are again. At least someone reached me this time.”
He snorts and the searing air pushes my hair back, forcing me to blink. A human would have been sent careening into the nearest wall.
“Little Carnaciel tells me I should not judge the current generation to the measure of the best but, honestly…”
I feel terribly belittled.
“Very well, I am sleepy. Let us get this ‘slaying’ done. You may challenge me and the victor will earn a prize. You may pick whichever game you believe you have a chance with, or violence I suppose. That would make this meeting mercifully short. There. Who goes first?”
“I challenge you, Great One,” Sinead announces, taking a resolute step forward.
The dragon sniffs him, the prince’s golden hair fluttering forward from the short intake.
“Are you related to Arathon?”
“My grandfather, the founder of the Court of Summer.”
“Hmph. You are… not his equal. Though I suppose you are still quite young. Speak your challenge then.”
“I challenge you to a dance.”
The dragon stays quiet for a brief moment, then Sinead is suddenly standing in the middle of a circle lit by bobbing golden lights far in front of us. The cave has spontaneously grown by fifty yards.
“You may begin.”
The prince closes his eyes and breathes deep. He seems to pull on himself, then his back arches out, his arms spread. He launches himself, and the dance begins.
A golden robin flies between branches, barely dodging raptor claws. An eagle screeches out of sight. The robin weaves a complex path that drives him, deeper and deeper, until the sky darkens and the branches turn to gnarly fingers grasping for him. It is silent now, but still the robin flies. It has been fleeing for so long against such a relentless foe that to stop would be madness. The eagle will never stop.
The robin is lost. He lands on a mossy root.
It is a dark, merciless world, and so the robin plunges in the dust. Dark patches cover his radiant plumage. He is tainted now, dull, but only in appearance. The summer sun has never ceased to burn within his breast.
The robin evolves in this world without light, without fire. He outwits predators and gathers allies, including those who could have harmed him. He finds others broken and lost, and he puts him back together until the dark world teems with the fires of emotion, hidden, damaged, but never extinguished. The tarnished gather into a great flock and reveal their true colors. The dark world shimmers with their revealed lights, dizzying in their beauty. The monsters try to extinguish the light but they cannot touch the robin as it flies in a rainbow of color, opening the thick canopy above. In a breathtaking apotheosis, the robin sheds its dark feathers and ascends to be a phoenix. He and the others escape through the opening into an azure sky.
Sinead reaches the apex of his ‘Jeté’ and lands with a bow.
I take a deep breath, amazed by his performance. I knew he had been practicing with Amaryll and other trainers while Cadiz used my chest for a pincushion but I had no idea he could be so inspiring! I want to draw him, so handsome and so free. What a performance! I almost want to grab him back with me so I can open a ballet. Even now, the remnants of emotion make the world blur with riotous colors. Amazing.
Well, I do believe he was amazing, but the dragon does not seem impressed. The old one sighs. The circle disappears. We are back at the entrance of the cave.
The dragon stretches and stands. It now dwarfs even the largest buildings I have ever seen in New York and Boston by far. His wings spread and the flap, once.
I am still standing on a horizontal piece of rock. I have to convince myself of that, because the cave pulled open like an opera curtain to reveal a night sky filled with foreign stars, pink nebulas, and two large moons like antediluvian eyes. The dragon flies through the cold air with increasingly greater speed. His wings ignite.
The dragon dances through the air and his motions ignore inertia, gravity, and anything that could possibly constrain the purity of his message. Scales, wings, and claws merge into a mirage of movement. Suddenly, I am no longer watching the dance so much as having an epiphany. A tide of… I am not quite sure what to call it, the closest concept would be ideas or revelations, touch my essence, sharing deep truth about the nature of the soul and the worlds and the relationships therein. I understand that earth will be bound to other spheres, first briefly then for extended periods of time over the eons. I understand that the Watcher sees the world around and through us, and what is unknown to us stays unknown to it, or the fabric of reality might be damaged. I understand that space and time are one. I understand that time itself is a river, no, it is a circle revolving, no, a spiral, no, I am but an ant perceiving an apple slice by slice because I cannot experience it in its entirety. I… I…
I am crying.
The dance has stopped. The dragon lies before us, and I have fallen to my knees. It was… life-changing. I must focus, try to remember nuggets of the truth revealed to me, but the concepts seep through the sieve of my limited mind. I lack so much background to bind this new knowledge to. I am lost. Eventually, I am left with strands of the tapestries I clutch between jealous fingers, longing for the moment I have lost and will never live again. I have witnessed a gift beyond anything and I am too stupid and limited to appreciate more than a fraction of it. Disgrace.
Also, we have lost. Incidentally.
The three of us shuffle awkwardly, quite aware that Sinead’s performance does not hold a candle to what we were just offered. Normally, the dragon will recognize great attempts and grant the petitioner a symbolic victory but it appears it will not be the case this time.
There are rumors he sometimes kills those who reach him.
For the first time since Revas fell, doubts assail me. Our lives depend on the whims of one we cannot possibly influence.
“Your next attempt, please,” the dragon grumbles.
“I challenge you, Great One, to do what I do,” Khadras says softly.
He looks a bit lost, yet resolute.
“Hmph, I know of your fate, child. A mother has no right to sell the soul of her children. Go ahead then.”
Khadras takes out a dagger and resolutely stabs himself in the eye, the crystal one. He grits his teeth in pain, even though the sharp tip fails to penetrate.
Another moment passes, then an unseen force wrenches the dagger from his grip. The enchanted weapon plunges in the dragon eyes with a dreadful squelch, right in the middle of the pupil.
Power dense enough to make me reel pushes the dagger out, disintegrating it, enchantment and all. The wound is unmade before it can shed a droplet of blood. Of the weapon, only dust remains.
Khadras gulps.
“Will then,” the prince says.
Both Sinead and I turn in horror, but too late. I wince in pain and force the barrier around my mind palace to thicken. The world loses a little bit of color while I take a step back, hurt by the onslaught coming from the prince. He is not even targeting me. His power surprises me, and I assume the moment grants him strength.
It is entirely pointless. His might washes over an invisible wall yards away from the dragon’s body like a wave upon a rock.
When I was twelve, I challenged by uncle to arm wrestling. He allowed me to struggle for two minutes and even use both hands, then my entire body to try and defeat him. After allowing me to expend myself, he casually put his arm down. I believe this memory to be the only valid comparison to what happens next, the main difference being that Khadras is sent screaming to the ground, a fist over his bleeding quartz orb. Sinead and I approach the fallen to render assistance, but we are pushed away.
“Do not interfere,” the dragon states, and we pull back.
We will not interfere. It must simply be so.
I shake my head to push back the dragon’s control but it is already gone, having fulfilled its purpose. At least, Khadras will survive. I am reasonably sure of it.
The dragon sighs, a miniature storm we must withstand once more. His gaze turns to me.
The world fades away until there is just me and the eye.
“And what might you be? A new sphere? Hmmm, not quite yet. Interesting soul. Well, do you wish to try your luck?” he asks.
I feel an undercurrent of threat mixed with boredom. I am entirely certain that he will kill us if we fail to convince him we were serious enough.
By the Watcher, this is complicated.
“We can choose the contest, and try several disciplines, is it not so?” I ask, unsure.
“Yes. I will lose patience after the first few hundreds, however, so pick wisely.”
“Then I choose… a drinking contest!”
The two princes watch in horror, especially Khadras who barely recovered from his mishap. I failed to understand how a giant lizard with no facial expression to speak of can convey how unimpressed he is, but the spheres are a strange place anyway.
“And I assume I need to provide the drink seeing as you have not a single container on your person, child. Very well, here you go.”
A volcanic bottle appears out of nowhere on a pedestal that did not exist a moment before. Its cork pops open and pours content in a tiny sifter. A waft of powerful alcohol almost makes me flinch.
We vampires with the Hasting essence can consume liquids without ill effect, so I should be entirely fine.
I hope.
I approach the glass, now filled with fuming, crimson liquid. My eyes water which should not be happening. I grip it with determination and bring its cusp to my lips. The very scent scalds my nostrils. I feel as if someone had scrubbed my lungs with hundred proof alcohol inexplicably holding a touch of flower. By the Watcher.
I take a sip.
I think, sometimes, that the world throws multiple hints in my direction to inform me an idea of mine is particularly stupid. Unfortunately, it only serves to make me suffer twice since I absolutely cannot back out of the contest. The liquid fire ravages my innards. I must have swallowed lava. I stumble forward and completely lose my balance.
“Oooooooawawawa.”
Oh this is quite nice, in fact. I should not be so worried and oh. Oh no.
I collapse and retch bile, then grab my suddenly painful head between two clammy hands. Impossible. Impossible!
The dragon upends the bottle in his maw using nothing but the power of his mind since moving one’s limb is apparently too pedestrian. The titanic head splits to reveal fangs as large as support beams. It closes immediately afterwards.
“A pleasant surprise, I should demand a few more crates, though it could have been aged a few more millenia. Well, it was a pleasant starter. Next, we raise the stakes with a nice Gordian firebelly rum from the first Blood Court invasion. Unless, of course, you give up.”
“I apologize but I believe I must withdraw before the next drink sets me on fire.”
“What a shame.”
A new bottle appears in the air, this one actually on fire. A rainbow liquid emerges from it and levitates into the creature’s monstrous mouth. The dragon inhales, exhales, and the mere smell of alcohol forces a hand to my mouth.
“Too sweet. Well, what is your next attempt, I wonder?”
“Hmm. Err. Riddles?”
The dragon snorts yet another storm.
“You are missing far too much context to appreciate my riddles, but do ask yours and if I fail — and it is not some ‘what is in my pocket’ nonsense — I shall declare you the victor.”
“Oh, uh, hmmm. I am worse than the devil, better than… a god, rich folks need me, poor folks have me, and if you eat me, you die. What am I?”
The dragon literally pulls the knowledge of god and the devil from my mind and without my consent, with such delicate ease that I feel him doing it and it does not hurt.
“Your cosmogony lacks sex, in my opinion. And the answer is nothing.”
“Aw. I liked that one. Alright. I come from nothing. I have no taste, no smell, no consistency, yet I am more painful than the sharpest dagger, and I have destroyed empires and laid waste to armies. What am I?”
“Hmph, even your riddles are born from a void. You are hunger. It fits you, little predator.”
“Damn. Hmmm, a king has five miners who produce the same amount of gold coins every day, but one of the miners shaves an ounce from each of his coins. The king has a magical scale of devilish precision with a large capacity but only one use. How can he know in one go which of his miners is stealing from him.”
“Interesting. I faced a similar situation some time ago. My method was more… definitive. You merely measure one coin of miner one, two coins from miner two, all the way to five against fifteen normal coins. If you are one ounce short, it is miner one, two short, miner two, and so on. An amusing childish guess. It reminds me of different times, when will was not enough to alter the world. Anything else?”
I do not think I can beat this ancient wit. I challenged him because I was out of ideas, and also because it felt story-like enough. Unfortunately, it will not be enough. I still decide to give it my best try.
“A princess is as old as the prince will be when the princess is twice the age that the prince was when the princess's age was half the sum of their present ages.”
That gives the dragon a second of pause, but only a second.
“An interesting concept, to muddle a matrix with a deliberately obtuse formulation. It unfortunately limits those tricks to base tongues, but it does give me an idea using the Song of Beginnings and its three versions. Hmmm, yes, I believe I can provide my peers with quite a conundrum. Oh, and your princess is four thirds of the age of your prince, and the prince three fourths of the age of the princess.”
That is it. I give up. I have nothing more twisted. If only Isaac was here with some Rosenthal puzzle. Alas.
“Do you have more?” the dragon asks.
“Nothing that would pose a challenge.”
“What a shame. Well, this meeting was not a complete waste of my time at least. I am still far from being defeated, however.”
“How about… a painting challenge?” I offer.
“And I have to provide the supplies again. Hmph. Fair enough, I suppose. We shall draw each other.”
“I have a pen,” I answer defensively, and so I do.
The dragon gives me a canvas and lets me work. I decide to pick the view of his shape far up, just under the clouds, his wings ablaze. I take good care to blur the air around his shape to express just how breathtaking he appeared. While I draw the rest of the sky and the distant mountains with as much realism as possible, the shapes and lines of perspective bends around his form. More than anything, I try to convey how unattainable he seemed, how I felt like a wolf jumping after the moon’s reflection on the surface of a placid lake, thinking they would reach the real thing. I tried to convey the vain hope I felt when I told Metis I would bite him. It is perhaps the smallest subject I have ever drawn since most of the emotion will come from its surroundings. When I pull away from my last adjustments, an unknown period of time has passed, yet the Thirst is still kept at bay.
The dragon inspects my work. I can tell from the slight sheen emanating from the colorful bits that I have succeeded, and that the painting would produce an effect on the mind of men, should it be brought back to earth. He keeps silent for quite some time before harrumphing.
“Very well. Here is my piece.”
As before, a canvas appears from the empty air. The dragon then exhales loudly. Bubbles of color escape his maw in a display that would be humorous if he were not so terrifying. They coalesce around the canvas, merging together until the painting is little more than a swirl. Suddenly, the scene appears.
***
July. I am eighteen. To celebrate, Papa opened a bottle of rum as old as I was on the porch overlooking the garden. He poured the old liquor in three glasses during lunch, before friends and guests would arrive. Sugar cane syrup and lemon juice joined it to form a murky mix, the vapors strangely powerful.
“My daughter, you are an adult now. Soon you will leave the nest.”
“She could have already,” Achille comments in a teasing voice.
“Hush you. I wish your mother were here with us but I know, wherever she is, she must be proud and happy. You have both grown into the people we always hoped you would become.”
“Aw,” I say, moved to tears.
“Hug!” Achille uncharacteristically says. He was never tactile.
They both embrace me, then our glasses meet with a merry chime and we drink. A powerful taste washes over my tongue, softened by the sweet aroma of the syrup. Achille clears his throat.
“Oh, yes, that’s an adult drink and no mistake.”
We all laugh. The noon light shines upon the carmine of mother’s roses. They look exceptional this year.
***
Aaaaand I am crying again. I stop my hand from reaching to Achille’s smile, father’s muscular back, and the healthy hale on our sun-kissed skins. They have left this world while only I remain, but on the canvas and in my heart, they still live.
“So beautiful.”
I drink in the moment and they let me. Eventually, I turn my attention to the old one.
“I do not have words in Akkad or Likaean that could do this justice. May I keep it?”
The dragon frowns and for a moment, I fear the worst, but he relents.
“I agree to a swap. I shall keep this rendition of mine, although it is… hmph. You are quite young. I judge it passable.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You lose, by the way.”
“Yes, I did, did I not? Or rather, you won.”
I grab the painting, which the dragon rolled into a protective case through an effort of will. The process gives me a few seconds to think. Unless the princes have come up with another idea, and from their dejected faces, they have not, the arrogant twerps unused to defeat, then we are at an impasse.
I wish we had someone to blame besides us, but we do not. We were so focused on beating the competition to the dragon that we underestimated how difficult it would be to take that last step. In a way, we were right to account for Revas and his tremendous means, we just had the misfortune of meeting the dragon while he was in a bad mood. Now, the fact remains that I have no skill the dragon the dragon is not better at. We simply cannot outperform this old monster. I might as well just…
Wait.
Hold on.
Hmmmm.
“Do you have something else or can I go to sleep?” the dragon rumbles.
“Yes, I do, in fact, have something else,” I reply with the most innocent smile I can muster.
This immediately makes them all suspicious, and for good reasons! But I shall take comfort in the fact that, even if it does not work, at least the dragon will pay for what we have been through to reach him.
“We are going to sing!” I exclaim.
“By all the spheres, no…” Sinead breathes, too late.
“You want to challenge me to a singing contest?” the dragon asks with naked contempt.
“Yes. Opera arias to begin with. We shall operate according to the same rules as the riddle. I shall sing until I give up, or until you find a song you deem worthy! Ready?”
The dragon inspects me with suspicion, yet he is just as bound by the rules as we are.
“You may begin.”
“Excellent.”
As a starter, I sing my favorite aria: Prendi, per me sei libero from L’elisir d’amore by Donizetti. Once I am done, I see that Sinead has stuffed his ear with fabric he tore from his under armor while Khadras slowly blinks, shocked to his core. As for the dragon, he gives no reaction except for an extremely dilated pupil.
“No comments? I shall go on then.”
Thus begins my campaign of death and destruction on classical composition. I slaughter Lucia di Lammermoor, maim La Traviata, defile Rigoletto, and mangle Aida which only just came out. After I am done insulting the Italians, it is Mozart I choose to vandalize. I massacre the Zauberflote, especially the air of the Queen of the Night which I handle particularly atrociously, then it is the turn of Don Giovanni to be violated. Figaro regrets ever getting wedded after I am done with him. I take a small detour by Paris to ravage Berlioz’ ‘Les Troyens’, then off to Russia I am to tickle Tchaikovsky. After what must be hours enjoying the increasingly horrified faces of my spectators, I pause to give them a chance to intervene before I go from mild insult to actual torture, and also before I return to Italy to give Rossini what he did not deserve.
“I…” the dragon starts.
He stops for a moment, apparently at a loss for words.
“How can this be? I can tell you love music and you are genuinely trying, and I can tell you have practiced. It is almost good, then a wrong note or slight waver ruins the song, and then you improve until I gather hope which you promptly dash again. How, in the name of the spheres, can you be so bad?”
“Perhaps I just need more practice,” I reply with a smile. “I still have much to sing, and then we can start on the male arias, and then the choirs!”
The dragon inhales, no doubt contemplating weeks of uninterrupted musical damnation.
“Extraordinary,” he finally says after a minute of silence. “I must say I have not been this surprised since Erikel the mad tried to graft dove wings on my nostrils.”
The dragon sighs a storm again. We all hold our metaphorical breaths, knowing that our fate hangs in the balance. This is it.
“Hmph, it is as little Carnaciel says. One can train for a millenium to obtain proficiency, but an eternity is not enough to grow a sense of humor. I may have been… difficult with you lot. You all seem quite young. Oh very well, I applaud your efforts and your creativity. You have impressed me enough that I grant you this victory. Hmph!”
I try my best not to exult too visibly, although I have no doubt the dragon can see it well enough.
“You may ask for a boon, starting with the strange girl. What is it you desire?”
“Dragon blood! I want dragon blood! Some of your blood! Please!”
“And you shall have it.”
The majestic being places a siege-weapon-sized claw against his chest, above the heart, and pulls. Although his scale remains intact, a single droplet of precious liquid levitates above the razor-thin tip. It approaches me.
“Open wide.”
I do so, if only to voice my protest at this casual treatment of the most precious of gifts. Immediately, the droplet lands on my tongue and I —
Ah.
***
Three months later, Court of Blue training gardens.
Sinead walked the steps leading to the deep undergrowth where Blue Court warriors faced beasts and each other in vicious battles. His sure steps found footing among the treacherous roots, carrying him forward up the winding path. All the while, his mind churned with plans and machinations, for the third and final trial would soon be upon him. He found Cadiz sitting on the stone a distance away. Night birds flew around him as he rested, a hand placed on his essence blade.
Cadiz illustrated the blind spots inherent to obsessed blade masters, Sinead thought. They, most of all, had trouble accepting that others would live by different values, or would not pursue excellence in a discipline with maniacal focus. At least the old vampire acknowledged his weakness while others did not.
“How is she?” Sinead asked.
Cadiz replied with a clipped accent, his Liakean cracking at the seams to reveal the translated Akkad underneath. Not everyone possessed the inherent skill to learn the perfect tongue.
“Articulate. She asked for my blood.”
“Please tell me you did not give it to her!” Sinead hissed.
Cadiz shrugged.
“It will make no difference at this stage. Besides, she asked me. I cannot refuse one who can beat me so soundly. I have to trigger my Magna Arqa just for a chance to resist her onslaught and she is not even trying seriously. If she asks me for an admission of her superiority, I have to grant it. A Devourer would not tolerate a refusal.”
“I hope you are right.”
“You should talk to her. I believe she has mostly returned to normal.”
Sinead nodded and moved on. At the end of a path, he found a secluded glade. The girl sat on a root incongruously grown in its midst. The starlight hit her in a way that broke his concentration. Suddenly, all his planning and calculations ceased, because she was here, just as precious and beautiful as the first day he beheld her, though they had both grown in the meanwhile. Her feet were bare since she had started to refuse shoes. A simple linen dress covered her from the shoulders down to her knees. She delicately held a moonchaser hare by the ears. Those were reputedly impossible to catch on account of their ability to phase through solid matter, a boon that had not sufficed to stop his clueless poppet. The hare itself had stopped struggling while she inspected it, poking its fluffy legs on occasion. She turned to him with obvious excitement.
“Rabbit,” she announced.
“Technically, it is a hare, a different species.”
“RABBIT!”
She suddenly seemed moved to tears, beholding her caught prey with all the wonder of a child discovering chocolate.
“Rabbiiiiiiiiiiiit,” she sobbed.
“Yes, I find their fur amazing too, poppet.”
“Sinead! It is you! Yay! We should make love!”
“Not until you are yourself again, my dear.”
“Aw.”
“You need to pull yourself together so you can return home, poppet. The others are waiting. You have a world to save.”
The earth dipped under his feet and it was all he could do to remain standing. Suddenly, Ariane was very close, though she was still sitting on her root, and still holding the hare. He looked up to the summer sky of her eyes. They were frowning mightily.
“You are trying to get rid of meeeeee. I can tell. Have you killed Revas yet?”
“No. I still have to compete in the last trial, but would you not prefer to return to your land? I do not need you to participate.”
“Nah, you need me to win! No unfinished business. I hate unfinished business! If I leave and you die I shall be upset forever! It is so.”
She nodded to herself.
“So… you wish to help me triumph?” he asked.
“Yus! Triumph! And sex!”
“A better program I have never heard.”
Comments
Yaldabaoth
Epicness 🤘🤘
phantom
Well the effect was gaining a bunch of power quickly I am pretty sure there is an enormous difference on the impact it would have on a spawn vs a lady.
Mecanimus
I had so much fun writing that segment.
RandomPerson
This depiction of Arian's singing is definitely one of the funniest paragraphs i have ever read. And, it was hidden in a great chapter even without it. 10q
Venalitor
Now that is drunk.
ManguKing
Thanks for the chapter and the hard work
Gunnar Crider
Her singing is something that defies even the mightiest of beings
Mecanimus
No I'm resolutely optimistic as a person and it shows.
Jericho Drakane
Oh, she's drunk. I was worried for he state of her mind for a minute there. Been reading too many super dark stories lately.
Pierre Steiner
I feel like your view of Nirari is skewed, he clearly is the more dangerous of two evils. If the Lord's and Progenitors do exhibit cruelty and selfishness, it is alas only the ways of their race : vampires aren't human anymore, therefore their society shouldn't be compared to human society. I assume that to Ariane, though she may have her disagreements with the rest of her kind and be discriminated, she doesn't consider them necessarily evil, just playing their scheming and cruel (from a human perspective) games as vampires are wont to do. Nirari on the other hand, he plans on bringing the whole planet to its knees, and will probably try to wage war, as The Devourer, on other planes once he learns how to get there, thereby dooming the entirety of Earth. That's what Ari has expressed she stands against, and some of her vampire allies are allies only in the name of allying against a more powerful enemy
Pierre Steiner
Really curious and excited as to where this is going to go, I do dig dramatic character development, it just gives that slight edge to the story that makes it feel so much more real
RonGAR
😂
Pierre Steiner
RonGAR :" I bet Ariane is exploring the 4th or even 5th dimension, who knows what's going on inside such a godlike mind!" Ari :"Rabbbiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!"
Steven C
I expect Ari-hides-her-strength hijinks from her return until the final war. But maybe not.
9mur
I was expecting her to ask a riddle pertaining to the Watcher or something else to do with the watcher, but singing works too. Good chapter
riseris
Except again, Ari has people and things she cares about and Nirari’s plans will doom for those, which is enough for Ari to want to stop him. Also are you seriously forgetting he tortured her to death and massively violated her mind before turning her into a vampire?
RonGAR
Yeah, I knew that. And Nirari nearly starving her into permanent insanity wasn't a boon in his favor. But in all honesty, He is far from the worse A-hole out there. What he did with his follower (Cutting out their tongues) does lend insight into what kind of 'Deity' he would be if he ever obtained the mantle. But Most of these other progenitors or Lords aren't much better. They just have much smaller ambition. But the cruelty within is on par w/ the big bad. As a matter of fact. I personally think Nirari helped Ari more than he ever hurt her. He always gave her good advice. And his magic saved her life on more than one occasion. So that something to think about too. And hell yes, they would try to kill her as soon as they feel they can. If they see her or him take a knee at any point during the fight, they are going to pounce on them both!
Mecanimus
Now I'm really intrigued about the possibilities of permanent mental changes,
Mecanimus
I'll go more in detail on what she got yes, and for what Sinead and Khadras got from the dragon... i't s a secret tool that will help us later ;)
Mecanimus
Yes, spread the word of journey among the unbelievers! Yessssss!
Mecanimus
What's interesting is that I was about to stop at the — and then i realized it was missing something. Glad to know the Ah worked out fine hahaha.
Mecanimus
He was not trying that hard.
Clarence Bassanini
That.
riseris
Woops this was supposed to be a reply to RonGAR’s comment above. Ari wants to kill her sire and his mother because if either of them win, the earth as they know it is fucked. It really has little to do with doing something for the vampire race specifically, though I can imagine once Ariane returns with her new level of strength probably with Cadiz in tow, she’ll rise to the same level of wanted dead or dead as her sire even if she does kill him and shows no sign of his brand of insanity. Honestly in the long run hanging out in the fae planes would probably be better for her ultimate future after Nirari and Semiramis are taken care of.
evyatar
I dig the idea of a permanent change from courting insanity by a feeding frenzy. Once she was on the blink of turning rougue by starvation. Now she courted the frenzy of a devourer. From what i understand she wasn't quite drunk/intoxicated. It was so overwhelming she lost herself kinda experience. Like her preferance changed to walking barefooted. It may be because she always uses her magna arqa and feeling connected to the earth grounds her. I would like to see permanent changes. The dragon was hilarious and the effects of the blood could be intresting... She cried twice and the tears were wasted cause nobody was there to drink them~ I wonder how the blood of a prince of summer will compare? She will drink,consume and hunt him in the third test. Than of course sex
RonGAR
She'll be fine. IMHO. She just needs time to mellow out. Something I don't think any of her siblings got. I don't think many of Nirari's spawns were ever given much of a chance. They came into the world hated and despised. Hated because their Progenitor was hated and despised and everyone one powerless to do anything about it. And they were most likely killed in revenge by those same people because they couldn't attack Nirari directly. But being weak and beaten down doesn't automatically make them the oppressed. They attacked him, and were always trying to catch him at a moment of weakness, and ended up dead for it. Are you evil because you a capable of self-defense? These so-called victims have designs of their own, and just want any future threats to that out of the way. So they made-up propaganda and put a target on Devourers. Remember Anatole? Remember when Ari finished with Key of Beriaya, and the knights caught up with her? Remember all the convoluted nonsense Anatole was trying to come up w/ to justify his need to kill her? Remember how easy it was for him to convince Constantine, that Ariane was just another out-of-control spawn that needed to be put down? And remember how every vamp she met always seemed to question her sanity, or be openly stunned that she was not as crazy as they heard? It didn't even matter to Anatole or the vampires with him that his accusation didn't make any sense. All of them were just going to stand by and let him do it. They knew he was telling lie after lie but didn't once speak up. I had a feeling then, that these so-called 'Rogue hunts' were mostly to hunt Nirari spawn. And the whole vampire either participated or stood by and looked the other way. Just look at the Accords vs Mask "war''. Arianne was the only one who had a kill on sight order on her, while everyone else gets to 'play' at war. Devourers get different treatment. That should be clear as day. So given that treatment, and without having the full context of Nirari vs, the Vampire race, I ask, can we really say that Nirari is the ultimate villain here??? He is not the good guy, but should Ari be trying to kill him on the behalf of these A-holes? To keep them safe? I say whatever happens to them is pure cause and effect of their actions. They challenged him and they lost and died. Then whoever was left from their faction looked to kill Nirari's spawn as revenge and called it serving justice. SMH Pluck them, I say. They throw parties and put an apple on young girls' heads and force her father to shoot it off. And they do it for fun. There is BAD on both sides. Ari shouldn't be so quick to 'off' one bad, just because it's so neatly compressed into one being. How many Roland A-holes has she faced off w/ so far. How many megalomanic personalities has she met among her people? Nirari is just the only one capable of living up to his own boast. Does he deserve the ultimate villain award for that? I say nope. She should've been sharpening her sword on all the little branches of villains she run into. If Ari does do the deed and take out her own progenitor(which should be frowned upon btw), It better be for her own well-thought-out reasons That's all I'm saying. And if she doesn't kill him, she should portal him somewhere. Out of mind out of sight.
Emily Gurnavage
I... Completely forgot that this was a possible outcome. All her previous siblings went mad from being fed too much power too fast - and she was nowhere near Nirari's strength when he took down that dragon. And it's already been mentioned how this dragon is prolly waaaaay stronger. This should be interesting though. I have to wonder if something like this could possibly end without a permanent change to her personality from the experience. Both an exciting and scary thought.
RonGAR
Okay... sooooo she lost her mind? 🤔 Or was it overwhelmed and is slowly piecing/recreating itself back together, under a new paradigm?🤔 😂😂😂... She won through the power of torture. LOLOLOL Nice. LOL I was imagining the voice of Jeremy Irons for the dragon the whole time. Who were you thinking of? Looks like she can do what the dragon can do, but on a smaller scale. Looks like she can force her will upon the world, but seemingly only inside her domain. Which is enough, and which I assume is much larger now. I think she was 'enhanced' or her understanding of all her previous concepts were. I think how she see's reality has changed greatly. So greatly that to the outsider she would seem 'mad'. Like all the great minds of the times seem. She seems disturbed now, because she is... by them that is. I assume in her head she is re-exploring every thought/decision/action she ever made and through this new cosmic, near demi-god perspective, is wondering why she made them. Then someone comes out of the blue to ask "how are you feeling''.... a question I suppose is of high importance to them, but to this new Ari, it couldn't be more mundane or colorless or flat. She is now contemplating the cosmos. Space and time. Probably even the 4th or 5th dimensions of what we perceive as reality, all the while trying to pretend whatever is going on in this 3rd dimension still has value. So its no wonder she seems to them like she is 'out of her mind'... that because she IS! She out there in the cosmos! What happened to Ariane this chapter reminds me of that movie: LUCY. When the bag of Artifical chem Hormones burst in Lucy's stomach, then all the sleeping parts of her mind began to slowly wake up till she was finally able to use 100%... Now I wonder if that is similar to what Nirari got from the earth dragon. As I said in previous post, it was an earth dragon, and a weakened one at that. Nothing compared to a full powered dragon, made of magic itself, living on a world sustained by magic. Ari's dragon(I'll call him, Jeremy, LOL since we never go a name) was on a whole other scale. But Nirari did drain his entire dragon while Ari only got a big fat water droplet. So I wonder if they are even now or if there is still a gap in power. I say gap in power because Cadiz said he had to use his MA just to keep pace, and that she was not even trying, Yet when it came to Nirari, he didn't stand a chance at all. hmmm maybe if she 'tried' there would be no chance for him either, but there seems to be a smidgen of difference. Also... Is she slowly absorbing mana as dragons do naturally???? Hmmm🤔 Either way, like where all this is going. Looks like the last challenge is in the bag... unless it's a singing competition. 😂 I wonder if her Art skills have gone up a few notches as well. That dragon taught her how to truly see a subject and move their hearts. Hope she grasp that lesson. Hmmm... I wonder if she grasps that dragon dance now, now that her mind and conceptual thinking has been 'upgraded'. And it looks like she can move, or move things within her domain like the dragon moves and dances, with a smooth motion that ignores inertia and gravity. Movement by the law of pure will. Being as fast as you need to be at all times. And it seems like her mind will perceive things that way as well. Meaning, Cadiz's movements will no long be dizzyingly fast. But slow and snail like, because thats just the way her mind perceives it now. Nice subtle Drug Joke about 'Chasing elusive Rabbits' LOL Wait a second....What did Sinead and Khadras get from the dragon??? 🤔 Looks like Sinead is going to get another notch on his belt. 😤... well, it is what it is. WAIT ANOTHER SEC... Just remembered something. Besides his size, this dragons power or large scale reality manipulation seems no different than Semiramis. (Nirari's mother) She did/does the exact same things. I guess what Ari really got was an understanding of how powerful magic and mages could be. And that your magic and control over reality grows with your understanding of its inner deeper workings. With that said, I have to ask, are we worried about the wrong person? Is Semiramis the real threat here? .... Terrific chapter. Had to be reread a couple of times, (the riddles especially, which I tried to figure out, but FAILED miserably at. LOL) but once understanding hit, and the flow returned, it was smooth sailing from there. Great job!
william wallace
I giggled so much that family members asked if everything was ok. I blame you. BLAME. Ari weaponized singing. Also RABBIT is the new flaming pigs. Loved the innocent carefree emotional fragility of drunk/stoned Ari. Three month bender… hangover could cause a mass casualty event.
SunderGoldmane
That “Ah.” Got me rolling so hard. Your level of jokes revolves around dialogue pacing and you do it so very well. Everytime a punchline crops up I indeed feel as though I took a surprise left hook through the pages and am left stunned a bit.
Murigi
Love it!! I’m curious though, was Nirari trying when he fought Cadiz?
