Shaking my head at my beloved Teuila, I tease, “Maybe I need to tell ‘Aunty Zool’ as you call her, that she needs to change your Alias to Dense, so that you only have your gravity powers, and, y’know, because it’s so fitting.”
Teuila’s telepathic avatar’s face momentarily alights with joy at the lightheartedness of our exchange, but she catches wind of my teasing and frumps, “Hey! That’s not nice. Meanie. Don’t you dare. I—.”
Sadness casts a pall over Teuila’s telepathic avatar’s features as she tries to plead, “I, I just, I want to know when it’s right to really, really ask your forgiveness, to be forgiven. It’s so messed up, I’m so messed up. I messed up. I never knew I had such a side to my power, and, and maybe you’re right, maybe Aunty Zool gave me that part of the Latent thingy you said, with the title and Alias stuff, since I sorta never really even thought about it before. But then you were there and I was making you light, and it was like my brain was feeding me a new trick that I suddenly had. I know it doesn’t excuse it, but it was almost begging me to use it.”
I loose a long, sad sigh as my telepathic avatar snags Teuila’s avatar’s hands and locks fingers with her, our palms together, down to each of our sides. Our avatars rest their foreheads against each other. I whisper, still teasing Teuila slightly, “It’ll be okay Te. Somehow I’ll manage to get over being unwittingly ridiculously attracted to an incredibly deadly, lithe, utterly gorgeous, powerful, sneaky, confusing, slate-gray Draconiac woman. A woman whose every little move is magic, and every little thing she does—.”
Teuila looses half a laugh as she drags her right hand away from my left hand to thump it once ineffectually on my chest as she shakes her head. She mutters, “You butt. You better.”
More seriously, I offer, “Really though, we’ll be okay. I’ll always, always love you. I’ll always trust you. I’ll always forgive you. I just have to hope that for a while at least, I don’t run into— crap.”
I drop from thinkspace as I find myself standing entranced in front of the target of my current overblown infatuation. Gulping, I tentatively wave as I realize we’ve got our eyes locked, and perhaps had been for some time. I have no idea how long we’ve been staring at each other while I was checked out of meatspace, not paying attention. Oh fudge. Oh my heavens that saunter as she approaches. Gulp. Friggin’ hell Teuila. My heart skips a beat, then skips several more as I stop breathing while I drink in her approach with my gaze.
As if making light of my, perhaps too-obvious, checking her out, Errissa, Spymaster, flourishes her hands from her shoulders downward. Her motion is almost assuredly a charade hinting at the entirety of her frame, as if to say, “Get a good look.” I don’t blink, instead I follow the command that my mind makes the gesture out to be.
While my jaw hangs agape, I finally realize that I still exist, or rather, that I have control of most of my faculties, so I attempt to speak. At first, all that occurs is a slight wagging of my lower jaw. I tremble, and wish I could facepalm as she nears ever closer with that almost seductive sashaying cadence to her walk. She raises her finger to her lips in the shushing motion, and my heart stops once again in anticipation as I pause my attempts to speak.
Errissa reaches forward with one dainty claw, the very finger she’d brought to her lips, and flicks my nose with an almost playful tap of her index finger, from my left to my right, hooking her finger nearly in a come hither gesture. I manage to not flinch, and I could swear that the edges of her immaculate silver eyes crinkle into the hints of a smile, on her otherwise placid face.
She remains hunched over slightly, while our gazes remain locked, and it’s only just then that I realize how tall and long she really is. Her tail must be four feet long, no, maybe six, tapered and slender all the way to its fine whip-like point. She’s at least six feet tall, and all sinew and grace. Flippin’ ‘eck. This is not okay. This is not okay. This is not okay.
I manage to fight through the fog in my mind that orders me to remain focusing on her appearance to say, “Hi, glp, um, I’m Reggie, err, uh, Schism maybe? I mean, Reggie.”
A twinkle in her eyes and the slight upturn of her scaled lips, or whatever passes for lips on her reptilian features, on the left half of her face hints at the manifestation of a sly grin. She nods almost imperceptibly, and winks with her left eye. Perhaps because it’s her injured eye, or perhaps she really did intend to wink at me just then. She’s been able to keep her gaze steady, staring for minutes at a time without blinking, so it’s hard not to read into the suggestive motion.
Errissa reaches into the top of her impeccably well-tailored leathers, and pulls out a tiny scrap of paper with a symbol in black ink on it. I tentatively cup my hands beneath it as she drops it my way. While my gaze is focused on the paper floating down into my hands, Errissa saunters momentarily away, before disappearing entirely as the paper lands in my hands. Her disappearance seems to coincide with the landing of the paper, as it temporarily consumes my gaze, and curiosity, for the briefest of moments.
It’s a black domino-mask, atop a dagger laying to its side. The mark of the Spymaster? Was all that really necessary for us to introduce ourselves? I gasp for breath and release all the tension I hadn’t realized I must have been holding. My chest heaves with the exertion of catching my breath, despite not having done anything remotely physical. I pass a long exhalation outward with puffed cheeks, and mostly sealed lips. Phew. Sheesh.
Breathing through my nose, and struggling to focus on only my breathing, I almost topple over in surprise when Teuila’s telepathic avatar quickly invades, no, sorry, appears in my mindscape. I rattle my skull for a moment, and attempt to flash a smile Teuila’s way with my own telepathic avatar.
Teuila’s avatar frowns momentarily at the train of thought which had poor choice of word usage. She sighs and mutters, “I probably deserved that.”
I pout, not wanting to induce feelings of dejectedness in the one most beloved to me. I plead, “Te, no, I’m sorry, I’m just coming out of the obsessive headspace. She was just here, it was intense.”
Teuila smirks and tries to stifle laughter as she responds, “I know, I heard every last detail Airhead.”
Ah, right. Right. My face could probably thaw dragon’s ice at the moment. More seriously, softly, almost demure, Teuila asks, “Seriously though. Are you okay? Are we okay?”
I nod as I gulp while fighting through my sudden bout of blushing. I offer up, “Yeah, yeah. It’s all copacetic, or, um, something.”
Teuila’s frown is tinted with a healthy dose of skepticism. I half frown as I attempt to convince Te, “I mean, really though. I just went a bit loopy, and it was probably funny as hell listening in on I bet.”
Teuila’s brow betrays her agreement as she fights the smile that attempts to spread across her face. Biting her lips, Teuila mumbles, “Yeah, uh, maybe a little bit.”
Teuila mutters, “Oh, someone’s here. Well isn’t she a cutie.”
My heart skips a beat as my breath catches in my throat. My mind reels with the possibility of Errissa doing something to Teuila. Te comments, “Relax, it definitely isn’t your crush. She’s not gray, or tall at all. Oh, I guess she’s a messenger, it sounds like Kinzul wants a meeting with everyone. Probably about how the Order lost two members, and gained two members.”
A messenger? I inform Teuila, “If she’s still there, can you ask if her name is, um, Miraina I think?”
Teuila’s telepathic avatar nods enthusiastically, “Yup yup! That’s her, she seems pretty happy that I knew her name, um, thanks to you, but said to call her Pawn, which sounds kind of mean.”
My avatar’s grin feels inappropriate with the mixed emotions I feel, so I try to keep the mood light as I explain, “That’s her Alias, it’s something to do with simplistic movement, able to get from point a to point b fairly easily, at least if she’s unhindered by obstacles I guess.”
Teuila’s response is near worrisome, “That would explain how she almost got the drop on me. She showed up in my silent sonar range, in the middle of it, without seeming to touch the edges or come in from outside of it. I figured I should be holding the spear we made with the handle that has that power, in case Turkey here tried anything. Aunty Zool wanted me to break her jaw if she tried to talk, which she did, so I did.”
I agree with Te, that does make sense. I’m mildly unsettled by the casual brutality that Teuila described, but it’s not unexpected. We’re entering a war, and Tairkul was part of a plot that included assassination of two key members of our organization, and who knows what else that may have been accomplished at the same time. I understand that we won’t be being merciful to Terrorzin’s zealots.
Apparently a few people are headed to relieve Teuila, and to bring Tairkul to the actual dungeon, or as close to one as we have, in the subsurface levels. Kinzul perhaps originally thought she’d get back to the interrogation sooner, and now has had to make a change of plans to accommodate some other issue that arose.
The one I take to be Pawn arrives after delivering the message to Teuila, before the short, jet-black individual can say anything, I greet her, “Hi Miraina. I’ve been expecting you. Pleased to meet you Pawn. I’m Reggie, or Schism. Where’s the meeting?”
The short lass blinks in surprise before shrugging acceptance at my foreknowledge. She beams a smile my way at my greeting, and I return it warmly. I’m entirely unable to determine if she’s a short adult Draconiac, a young Draconiac, an adult kobold, or a tall young kobold. I feel like it would be rude to ask the woman based on her three foot tall stature though.
Miraina chirps, “Administrator said to get you last, so I can lead you Schism. You have mind powers or something? Wait, let me guess, no, darkness? No, wait, uh. What does schism mean exactly?”
My jaw hangs loose for a moment as I’m caught a bit unexpectedly. I know the definition of the word, but even I don’t know what my Latent really entails. As we walk together, I take my best guesses, “Well, a schism is a, well, a divide, an absence of common ground, or absence of ground in general. In the abstract, it could just be taken to be absence of something, or absence in general. My mind powers as it were come from my archmage status, and I’ll be spreading those around in the coming weeks. It might give your weary feet a bit of rest, so you don’t have to run quite as far some of the times.”
At the suggestion that she might not have to run as much, Pawn displays a mixture of joy and hesitation. She takes pride in her position, and doesn’t want to be displaced, or replaced. That’s understandable, but she could be a relay fulcrum for the psionic network I’ll be building, so that Kinzul can get in touch with others from a greater distance. Hopefully I’ll be able to clarify better that when I get more time to actually work on setting it up.
I clarify as best I can at the moment, “I won’t be trying to, or even able to, make you obsolete. If anything, the power I help set you up with will make your role as Pawn all the more valuable. Still, as far as Schism goes, my Alias, I’m curious why Lady Kinzul chose it myself. My Latent was only ever described to me with one word, nothing.”
Miraina seems satisfied with my clarification, but surprised about my Latent as she offers a simple, “Huh.”
I know, right!? Ugh, heh. Silly mysterious nonsense. Hm, I wonder if my Alias could help me somehow seal away the Felgre horde. I really don’t want a bunch of hellbeasts roaming Rayileklia, razing everything, especially if the Celestial dickweasel finds a way to herd them, or worse, outright control them.
Lady Kinzul responds to my thoughts telepathically, “Rest assured my Schism, in the coming months, when the time is right, when our pieces are in place, we shall push back the Felgre horde once more, as I did long in the past. It is wearisome that it distracts, and requires attention, but requires attention it does. I shant let the fate of Rayileklia fall. Not to Terrorzin, not to the Felgre horde, nor to the Celestial Emperor. We are ill prepared to fight simultaneously on all fronts, so we shall make careful plays, and utilize everything at our disposal to the fullest of our abilities. It is imperative that you expand your toolset as swiftly as possible. Yours is the most versatile in my arsenal, and I will be deploying you in most any engagement.”
I balk momentarily. I knew Kinzul was on top of things, and I personally set up her telepathic bond with me and my inner circle, but to have her be listening in, parsing my thoughts, and responding to them with enough empathy to assuage my worries, especially specific worries about apocalyptic scenarios that demand a massive effort to subdue is— It’s beyond incredible. Lady Kinzul operates on a whole other level. I guess that’s one of the benefits of being the eldest being still living on the planet, or her Latent.
As Miraina bids me enter the room ahead, the bustle is obvious as a multitude of bodies shift, and pairs or small groups murmur to one another. The enormous room, a hundred meters across, is dominated by table that appears to be a ring with a notch carved out, in order to allow for ease of access to its center. Also, unless my eyes deceive me, there is a vertical tunnel at the center of the roof that leads directly out into the open sky, *above* Rayileklia’s permanent cloud-cover. I haven’t seen the sun since Tiktik banished the clouds over Autumn Brook, and before that, I hadn’t seen it in all my time on Rayileklia. To have direct access to sunlight is astounding.
My attention focuses upon the smoothened, polished granite table, only a meter and a half in width, but over ninety meters in diameter. It makes up a nearly perfect concentric ring with the circular walls of the chamber, only broken by the large notch on the near end. Further, central inside the area within the inner rim of the table is a dais, and a very humble, half-back throne.
The throne is more cushion than any sort of ostentatious material, but there is still gold trim lining its edges. The back of the throne is aimed towards the notch in the table so that whomever sits upon it can see nearly all of the table simultaneously, and need do little more than turn their head to one side or the other, to catch the rest within view.
As Lady Kinzul arrives, swooping in from on high, the sight of her majestic, massive, onyx form sends a hush through the crowd. While still in flight, as a single claw of her left fore-limb reaches the throne, Kinzul assumes her equally regal human form. She effortlessly, gracefully descends to the throne, as if she transforms around the point of contact with the throne, to appear seated within it, one hand poised at its right uppermost edge. This affords me a view of Kinzul’s bare back, and its sable, statuesque flesh above where her garments are slung low. With fluid motions, Lady Kinzul directs most everyone to apparently respective seats, though I spy Draconiacs hauling four large cushions into place near the throne, two at each of her sides. Lucky kneels in front of the throne, Luni sits on the cushion to Kinzul’s left, Lil sits on the cushion to her right—.
I don’t need telepathic instructions to understand where to go, yet Kinzul sends them to me anyway, with a hint of mirth in her voice, “Yes, please take your place at my side, alongside my beloved son. Your Teuila will of course sit next to her sister.”
Taking my position, I’m almost deafened as Lady Kinzul calls out, “My Order! Each of you are as beloved to me as the children I’ve been denied, or have lost throughout the ages! I do *not* rule the Onyx Dawn! I facilitate, and administrate its functions, for the betterment of all! Nor would I wish to rule, when we finally achieve peace.”
I blink, stunned in momentary surprise at hearing that. I’ve always had a bit of an issue with monarchy, and had a distaste for nobility, so it’s surprising for someone in such a seeming position of rulership to deny even the desire for such standing. It endears Kinzul to me in a way few other statements could have. Stealing a glance to my left, Lil is in a shrunken version of his dragon form, rather than his human form, and he’s beaming with pride.
Kinzul’s voice is laced with despair as she calls out, “Some of you may know, most of you may not. We have lost two beloved family members, at the very outset as our war begins in earnest. Our Seer, and our Scholar, being stolen from us is a heavy blow. One that weighs more heavily on my heart at seeing a life snatched from one so young. We shall not inure ourselves to grief. Instead, we shall allow ourselves a moment of silence, in contemplation of the departed.”
I blink, more in order to clear the tears that suddenly well in my eyes, than in surprise this time. There is an absolute silence, and stillness in the air. After several long moments, my keen senses pick up the world outside the Mountain of Solace, as the wind begins to howl. It’s almost like a funeral dirge, a requiem for the lost. I inhale a shuddering breath, attempting to maintain the silence, and I think to Essie, whose name was once Dirge, Requiem for the Wounded.
My gaze takes in the crowd of Draconiacs, kobolds, and the many human-forms of the assembled dragons. My heart skips a beat as I catch sight of Errissa leaning against the far wall, almost completely blending in with the scenery, as her slate-gray scales are smooth as silk, and the hood of her cloak is up, covering most of her face. The Spymaster’s cloak shrouds her face in shadow, but still those liquid-mercury irises swirl and shimmer when we lock gazes. She offers me an almost playful two-finger wave, or salute, barely a flick, joined by a momentary narrowing of the upturned edges of her eyes, hinting at a hidden, sly smile. My gaze drinks in her slender frame and it’s casual lean, the hint of every bit of her covered by her cloak, and the twitching of her entrancing whip-like tail.
Crap. Kinzul can hear every word I’m thinking. So can Lil, Luni, Lucky, and Teuila. I haven’t explained to them that Teuila whammied me with her powers of attraction yet. I bite my lips to keep myself from groaning in exasperated embarrassment. Thankfully, they’re all refraining from commenting on it, though I can sense mostly surprise from the assorted members of our telepathic bond. I think Lady Kinzul is more surprised that I can see Errissa at all, than the fact that I’m infatuated by an attraction to the Spymaster, caused by Teuila’s Latent.
Kinzul resumes speaking in hushed tones, nearly a whisper, yet it retains an air of dominance and authority, “We may all operate with heavy hearts, but operate we must. We no longer have the leisure to maneuver our pieces into better positions before beginning our battles. We no longer have the time to wait for an opportunity to strike. Our enemy has broken the truce, and openly aggressed us. Our archmage Yisstendahl was part of the plot that took our Seer and Scholar from us, he lent magic to infiltrators, and for his transgressions, recent and past, he was slain. He has been dealt with, by the two newest members of our Order.”
Kinzul coaches me mentally, to use my full exact title when she gives me the signal, and to do it in sync with Teuila for maximum effect. I stiffen in surprise, barely remembering to continue to breathe. Kinzul offers up, “I present your new brother and sister at arms, they will now take it upon themselves to cover their own introductions.”
Gulping at suddenly having the attention of all of the feasters on us, I stand along with Teuila. We get the signal, so we announce simultaneously.
My call is, “I am Reggie Shellcracker, Hero of the Onyx Dawn, archmage, and void dragon honoris causa. I shall be known as Schism.”
Teuila’s call is, “I am Teuila Shellcracker, Guardian of the Onyx Dawn, knight, and sky dragon honoris causa, I shall be known as Tenith”
Teuila’s power is displayed as an extension of Kinzul’s dragonforce, radiating outward, while mine is an expression of the dragonforce I’d absorbed from Yisstendahl. My display of power manifests as an enormous void of encompassing darkness that seems to hungrily sap light, energy, and bravery from all the gathered. I gulp, wondering if this might hurt morale more than help it. When signaled by Lady Kinzul, I retract the display of my dragonforce, and Teuila does the same with her expression of the extension of Kinzul’s dragonforce.
I fight myself to keep from expelling an anxious sigh of hesitant relief as I return to a kneeling position on the cushion provided for me. Teuila’s mental avatar cheekily grins my way, since she’s far more extroverted, and is eating this up. Errissa has disappeared, somewhat unsurprisingly. Also unsurprising is the fact that I would make note of it, as well as feel the tiniest twinge of—. It doesn’t matter.
Kinzul makes a plea that comes across as an order, a demand, “Please, take what short time we have, to band together, to enjoy yourselves, to celebrate the lives and memories of those we’ve loved and lost. Those of you who do not yet know one another, please introduce yourselves, find common ground, learn what synergies may be available to you. We soon act, and this may be our final moment of peace for a very long time to come. When that time comes to act, the six gathered here in the center will be your vanguard, the first to leap headlong into the fray, and we will lead by example.”
I’m once again struck by how empathetic, and loving Kinzul’s administration, rather than rulership, is. I’m almost shocked that Kinzul is stating outright that she will be on the front lines, with me, Te, Lu, Lucky, and Lil. That’s a hell of a lot of power concentrated in one group, but it’s probably the most heartwarming command she could have given. My admiration for her soars additional leaps and bounds.
We’ll be facing down draconic hordes, Felgre hordes, soul-stolen armies of a Celestial lord, and who knows what else. We will fight, love, and even lose. But most of all. Above all else. We’ll do it together.