Lightning flickers constantly across my currently-metal body, and occasional sparks dance along the arms and chests of my allies holding my hands. I flash them all a weak apologetic frown as I try to apologize, “I’m sorry for worrying you all, for hurting you all. I would understand if you don’t want to feel that pain again, I—.”
Teuila interrupts me, “You’re not going to stop Airhead, so I’m not either. A little pain is worth it to make sure you don’t die.”
Kinzul agrees, marveling, “Our Tenith is right. What you’ve brought forth in this cavern is simply remarkable, amazing, and you’ve yet more? How deep does this well of yours go? What more can you conjure? I’d had plans, but they can wait. Spymaster need not apprise me as frequently, and she knows to return to her duties if I’m not at a rendezvous. Each of your Latents required correction, maintenance, administration as you’d suspected Schism. Perhaps one day you’ll each have mastered them well enough, but I cannot allow you to continue this risk without my aid.”
I find myself hugging Lady Kinzul again, burying my face in her bare stomach, beneath where her scalesilk garments part just beneath her bosom into a long, flowing, open gown. I, perhaps a bit embarrassingly, nuzzle the woman. She took on massive risks for us, for me, trusting me, yet again. She spent more years, maybe decades of her life, searching for me in a psychic space as I’d slowed time to a crawl. I feel like I’ll never stop owing her more and more as time goes on. Lady Kinzul pats my back, and the rear of my cranium affectionately. I sniffle as my eyes wet, feeling a great deal of love for Kinzul.
Lil, Luni, and Teuila, hug me from behind, so Kinzul crouches slightly enough to envelop all of us in her embrace. This does mean that my face is no longer buried in her stomach, but rather somewhere else that’s soft, so I gulp, blushing. Thankfully, only Kinzul can hear my internal monologue right now, as I haven’t fully reestablished everything. She wears a wry smirk, knowing how very hard I’m trying to keep from mentally remarking on the nature of—. Ahem. I gulp, enjoying the mildly suffocating position I’m in, regardless. Yeah.
Mumbling, through a faceful of silken-covered midnight flesh, I offer, “I’ve got a lot, lot, lot more in my inventory. I virtually need a vault the size of a small town to expel all of it. Lil likely has at least a tenth of what I do, somewhere around there, or maybe a hundredth, since he didn’t have a space skill, and mine managed to compactify things over time. I only really realized this recently for certain, in retrospect. Teuila probably has an eleventh of what Lil has, maybe a fifteenth, and I’ve got no idea how much Luni might have.”
Blushing, I add, “And that’s all just materials, objects, items, not wealth. Wealth became abstract numerical values, but still was represented by coins, metals, gems, and green papers.”
Kinzul offers, “Then shall we continue? Small steps, no larger than what you just accomplished for now, as it was difficult managing administration of your Latents under such strain as is. I don’t want you to increase the risk to yourself at all. None of us want that, do we?”
All of us shake our heads, which causes the utterly perfect, heavy, rounded, silk-covered pillows to either side of my face to bob slightly in response. I’m so very, very, very glad only Kinzul can hear my thoughts at the moment. I’d prefer if she couldn’t hear me thinking about the immaculate chest of her perfectly sculpted human form, but, glp, at least she’s kind enough to understand that I don’t voice my thoughts, or act on them. Thankfully she hasn’t had to bear witness to some of my worst intrusive thoughts, like when wrath consumed me, or a panic attack sent me spiraling into trauma, and hopefully that day never comes.
Kinzul requests, “As part of continuing, may I see your egg, Schism? Before you engage your next miracle. Please, let me do this for you.”
Kinzul kneels before me, hunched low, with her hands cupped. I comment, “I, I can certainly show you, my Lady, but it is a phoenix egg, in part, it’s several hundred degrees. It’ll be like holding a hot coal directly from a forge if you want to touch it. Are you sure?”
An almost wicked grin flashes across Kinzul’s face as she responds, “Though my form may appear human, you must remember, it is only a guise. We would not spend so much of our time in such small forms if they were nearly as vulnerable, weak, and feeble as they appeared.”
Her eyes twinkle with mirth as she hints that, to her, humans and Fae all look vulnerable, weak, and feeble. I can’t help grinning stupidly as I have a chuckle to myself about it. The implication isn’t wrong. I’m certainly squishy, feeble, vulnerable. In nearly every way. In nearly every way except a few that make me similar to dragons. Toxins, electricity, and thermal activity have far, far, far less effect on me than they should for my body type, and size.
For example, temperature deviations from zero only affect me at two point seven percent the strength of their values. It’s why I can handle lava for a period. Something that’s in the thousands of degrees, only affects me as if it’s in the dozens of degrees, for the most part. The egg is anywhere from three hundred to six hundred degrees at most times. It would be instantly flesh-sizzling to anyone else. To me, it’s not even a hand warmer. So, as my inner circle steps back a bit, to allow for breathing room, I withdraw the phoenix-roc egg for the first time in a very long time, from the enchanted pouch upon my neck that it rests in.
I glance inside the pouch, and sigh sadly at the artifact dormant within it. Bud. Lullaby, Requiem for the Windless Wilds. Ever since Autumn Brook, he has lain dormant. Lullaby spent centuries of gathered energy in defense of The Brook, providing a temporary wall against the Felgre hordes. He was nearly spent, and just barely clinging to life, just barely clinging to consciousness. Then Keeley Johnston tried to ‘save’ me, out of nowhere, placing herself in a line of fire that was going to get her killed. Bud offered up the very last bit of energy he’d been using to cling to wakefulness, in order to help me return to save her, from where she’d thrown me. I made it back only just in time to see her impaled through the chest, a wasted effort by Bud, seemingly.
I frosted the wound through Keeley’s chest, and dragged her back towards the safety of the town when Teuila had finally arrived. I pleaded with Teuila to take her towards the town’s doctor, our friend Tiago. Apparently, between Tiago, and doses of addictive, enchanted dragon’s blood, that cost a sacrifice to give to her, Keeley was saved. The sacrifice was much to her dismay. She’s living on borrowed time, the dragon’s blood keeping her alive, functioning, but building an addiction, and the refugees have a limited supply.
I’m getting distracted with saddening reminiscences. Bud, if you’re still alive in there, I will get you back to the Heart of the Wilds someday. I hope that, once there, you can begin recovering. I know that us being in drafty subterranean caverns is the exact opposite of what you need to recharge, and heal. I’m sorry Bud. Thank you for helping me save the spiteful woman. I only wish it hadn’t cost you so dearly.
Kinzul accepts the egg in her bare hands, and it does actually hiss ever so slightly as it touches her flesh. The egg may have at least scalded her hands. I frown at her, but she flashes me a winning smile before blowing softly on the egg, and kissing it. She brings it to her chest, to her core, above her heart, and I see the tiniest fragment of a glow flow from Kinzul into the egg. A moment later, there’s cause for all of us gathered around it to gasp.
It has a timer now. Suddenly, it’s a viable, hatching egg. The timer is so many digits, that it wraps around, and obscures itself, but it has a timer. There’s no telling how many years, decades, centuries, millennia that the timer represents, since even the number of digits is obscured, but it has a timer, and that’s unimaginably important, and that’s enough. I know that there are ways to speed up such a timer. A phoenix’s feathered down is one of them. I doubt we have access to such a thing on Rayileklia, but if there exists one way to shape the flow of time for this egg’s timer, there may exist another.
I mumble, “Kinzul, the gift you’ve given me is a precious life on its way to being born. There are no words I can say to express how meaningful this is. This is beyond a kindness, beyond lifesaving, you’ve—. Kinzul, this child is in part yours.”
I blush at the implications, and Kinzul smirks, realizing the very same implications as she returns the egg to me. Averting my gaze, I mutter, “I couldn’t ask for more, but to have your hand in raising it, guiding it—.”
Kinzul embraces me warmly, drawing me back into the safe-yet-smothering presence of her bosom. Part of me blushes furiously, but more of me is simply struck by the honor, the joy at knowing we will be bringing this mythical life into the world somehow, one day, for certain. Kinzul pulls back from our embrace, cups my cheeks, and kisses me softly on the forehead as her right thumb brushes back several locks of my wild mane of crimson hair while stroking my cheek.
Luni’s facial expression is contorting between a jealous pout, and awestruck joy, and Teuila is grinning maliciously as she witnesses Lu’s feelings being painted across her face. Lil, childish, wonderful, exasperating Lil, excitedly asks, “I get to be an uncle!?”
All of us begin a round of subdued laughter, that slowly chains in its infectious nature, growing into full delight. Simultaneously shaking my head incredulously, and nodding, I confirm, “Yeah Lil buddy, you get to be an uncle.”
Our laughter slowly dies down, and we share bright smiles, and more warm embraces, before we return to the task we’d originally been working on. Under Kinzul’s guidance, with linked hands, we’re able to call more and more from our Can’Z’aasian inventories, taking turns, with me taking approximately six turns to everyone else’s single turn. It’s exhausting in a sense, and worrisome, that every time my turn comes around, twice between each of the others’ turns, they have to share in pain. I lament it, but these people who are so beloved to me follow my lead, and accept the risks and the pain. We leave the chamber ‘neath Mount Solace, headed westward, following Lucky’s trail.
The cavernous chamber in Mount Solace is packed to the brim with lumber, clay, and sheets of various metals, giving the Draconiacs who arrive plenty to do as they set about carving and forging the plates to my specifications. I’m grateful for their aid. I might be able to accomplish the same, with a forge and tools in my inventory. It would require using my crafting magic skill from Can’Z’aas, but it’s less easy to picture exactly what would happen over the eight minutes, in the nebulous voidspace that makes up my inventory. I leave it up to the Draconiacs to hopefully succeed in the task without my aid, as we arrive beneath Mount Verdimenn. Lucky barks upon our arrival, and wags his tail happily, excitedly, proudly showing off the massive space he’s already cleared.
More surprisingly, Lucky is mountainous in size at the moment, standing some thirty feet tall at the shoulder, maybe more. I sense Kinzul suppressing a wry smirk, which clues me in on Kinzul having seen Lucky be even larger. What sort of monstrous appearance can my son take on? Regardless of my astonishment, and my silent ponderings, it’s easy to be proud of Lucky as I gaze about the cavern he’s created.
There are support pillars, looking almost expertly crafted with the way his digging power displaces matter, leaving only what he desires to leave behind. I can tell that he has made the pillars incredibly dense by compacting the surrounding stone. I can sense that Lucky had been digging out the surrounding stone of the pillars, but instead of deletion, he shunted the matter aside, into them. It seems he had similarly toughened up the outer walls, floor, and ceiling of the chamber so far, using the same method.
I can barely manage to hug one of Lucky’s enormous claws as I praise him, “Good job Lucky, you’ve done great so far. Can you keep expanding this for a while, and then start making smaller side caverns with curving tunnels leading to them?”
A single excited bark and tail-wagging signals Lucky’s affirmative response. I offer up as much mental imagery as I can, about the necessary shape and layout of the respawning warrens. I also indicate where I’d like several pits in this chamber, for me to unload more esoteric things from my inventory, like body parts. Lucky, apparently happy to have work, and to do his part, barks, and wags his tail happily. The cragbeast portion of him is capable of rending through solid stone like this, and also possibly breathing flame if he eats phosphorous. Between Lil’s radiant-purged energy, and the cragbeast biology, Lucky probably has some pretty impressive firebreathing skills, though I don’t recall having ever seen him use them.
I continue practicing my rune-work, simply twitching my index finger, and we spend the better part of the day unloading riches into this chamber. We even create a large pond, in the shape of Shellcracker Pond, and fill it with water. I break down in tears at the sight of it, at reminiscing about our simple idyllic life. I weep at the thought of possibly never seeing Laomati, Agwai, Olioli, Penina, Sugar, Spice, Manaia, or Manameia, again. Our family, the Shellcrackers, were making a home, a life, a community together, in peace. That all shattered around the time the humans were marching to attack the Fae at the Miracle Oak settlement. Not because of the humans, but because Leviathan had washed away Eimsas, their city, and Lord Agni’s back, the volcano, began spewing so much lava that it expanded beyond Fire Biome.
It wasn’t long after that that I met Linti, and her cat family. She was so hostile to me at first, repeatedly. It wasn’t until I took her out in a single motion during a rematch that she finally relented, actually filled with joy that I had stopped holding back against her. It was the proof she needed that her family was safe with me, and it began our very physical romance, as we endeavored to hunt and train together, slaying waves of insect hordes in The Hollow. Between waves, we’d, well, amuse ourselves by taking comfort in each other. Later, when Teuila started joining Linti on those hunts instead, she did much the same. I think to an even greater extent than I had been doing.
I draw a shuddering breath, and sigh sadly. Reminiscing won’t bring them to us, or send us back to our world, Can’Z’aas, where they reside on the verge of an apocalyptic convergence of four gods. Tenith Grayl, Leviathan, Maka-Akari, and Deckard Agni were poised to join in the Divine Maelstrom sometime soon after we’d died on Can’Z’aas. Thankfully, the passage of time flows differently, due to magical coefficients that I was able to change upon arrival in Rayileklia. For a year to pass on Can’Z’aas, it would take four hundred eighty thousand years on Rayileklia currently, if I recall correctly. That means that, despite it having been several months of adventure so far, Can’Z’aas has only had a few moments pass during our entire journey here.
I rattle my skull, trying to return my senses to the present. My recovery eats heavily into my dragonforce, the one I’d absorbed from Yisstendahl, which leaves me nervous, but I know that in two to three days time, if I survive the coming battle, I’ll have two additional dragonforces added to the power present within me. Speaking of that—.
I ask, “Lady Kinzul, I noticed that there were others granted honoris causa, when Nala listed names for me, but they were all deceased. Could you tell me about them? About that?”
Kinzul wears a sad half-frown as she nods. She starts, “Very well. As you can likely guess, a dragon has no need of an honoris causa. It is instead the ability to consume dragonforces and present oneself as a dragon. The only beings I’d offered this to, before you, Schism, and our Tenith, were Draconiacs. One being Bahativimut, so very, very long ago now. He may have been the very first Draconiac, a platinum being with shining, reflective scales as impenetrable as any metal. He was as valorous as his scales were bright and reflective. He was charming, dashing, courageous, and above all, loving and kind.”
Lady Kinzul pauses, and the wetness that rings the edge of her eye refuses to form a tear before she continues, “There is something of a feud, a hatred, a jealousy. As you know, Terrorzin keeps tabs on and collects nearly all clutches from any dragonkin. Any who would disobey were simply slain, and the eggs taken anyway. In the ages since, more recently born Draconiacs do not possess the ability to clutch, to breed. This is intentional, by Terrorzin’s design. He cannot guarantee that those bred by him are entirely loyal, and it’s all the less likely that those born outside of his reach would ever come to serve him. Bahativimut possessed the ability, as did his first mate, and second, and third. He had family, descendants.”
Kinzul sighs sadly, recalling further, “He accepted an honoris causa, to protect them, his children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, and so on. He accepted it in order to battle dragons that thought it not right for him to have such an honor. Alas, even a fully awakened, final-stage honoris causa cannot stand against the combined might of an entire flight of dragons. Eventually, such a cruel group found him, and took him from us. Worse, they hunted down his children and grandchildren. His descendants, whenever one pops up from time to time, are found, weeded out, stamped out by the zealous forces that buy into Terrorzin’s designs. If any yet survive, they remain disguised, hidden, unwilling to reveal themselves for fear of the hatred that will rain down upon them.”
I’m sensing that there’s more to it, a lot more, but Kinzul has given me more than enough to sate my curiosity, and I can see the pain it brings her to relive this loss. I apologize, “Kinzul, I’m so sorry. I—. I can barely fathom everything you’ve suffered and lost, and the empathy you hold for those you’d cared about who’ve suffered as well over the ages. Please forgive me fo—“
Kinzul brushes my cheek tenderly as she interrupts me, “No Schism. Do not apologize or ask forgiveness for this. There will come a time when I will wish I had shared more with you, told you more of the details, painted more of the bigger picture, or perhaps you will be the one wishing I had.”
Kinzul leaves the implication hanging in the air. The idea that one of us will outlive the other, that maybe something we could have shared, some bit of knowledge might have made the difference. Either for my survival, or for my desire to protect our Lady. I nod, acknowledging and understanding her intent, and implication. Lil just cocks his head curiously while furrowing his brow in confusion. Luni wears a sad frown, and Teuila nods along, working her way to the same realization shortly after.
When Lil catches up in understanding, he pouts aloud, “Momma, that aint gonna happen. I mean, Mother, that isn’t going to happen. We won’t let it. Right guys?”
I flash Lil a sad half-smile as I nod, responding, “We’ll do our best buddy.” Teuila and Luni nod in agreement.
We resume our work, summoning items from our Can’Z’aasian inventory, only safely thanks to the combined efforts of Kinzul and the rest of us working together in harmony. We’ve created a massive larder, filled with mostly insect meat, some sashimi platters, and mite-hulk meat. We created a room in which I unleashed the esoteric idea of “crafting equipment,” which included things like a smelter, and a forge and billows, spinning wheels and textile looms, and more.
When Lucky finishes a room for me to use as a private vault, I gulp in apprehension, because we don’t know what will come out of my inventory, or how much there is left in it. My pull from my Can’Z’aasian inventory will be a simple command to empty what’s left, with careful positioning, fragile objects on top. Kinzul mirrors my apprehension, understanding that it may be more than the volume we’ve been working with so far.
So far, we’ve accomplished an incredible amount of summoning. We’ve left mountains of coins and gemstones and green paper currency piled up in the primary cavern, metals, creature-based materials, and other similar things in offshoot caverns that we intend to use as respawning resource warrens. We’ve summoned nearly everything I can think of, including a pit full of what my inventory deemed ‘junk’ as I summoned a load to fill it. Octorochi’s head, and viscera, were ejected into that pit, among other things. I’ve even summoned, into a much smaller side cavern, furniture, furnishings, and things like literature, writing supplies, softer materials like papers and leaves and cloth.
I can tell Luni is holding out on us, but she’s always had her secrets, and I don’t begrudge her that. Whatever she needs to keep secret is something I trust is a hand of cards truly needed to be kept close to her chest. Lil and Teuila have already filled private rooms with their “emptying” command, so now it’s down to me, and their inventories should be completely empty. My “emptying” command could hurt one or more of us, or even kill me, though I’d prevent it from killing the others. The reason I’m willing to push for this, to ask us to try it, is that this may also contain magical equipment. If it does, I’ll wish I could master the minor history spell to be able to identify everything that will come out. The thought that we might have things in my inventory that could save the lives of others is too great a chance to pass up. I know that much of anything labeled equipment is soulbound to Shellcrackers, but there may be consumables, and who knows what else.
We’ve been at this from essentially the break of dawn, until nightfall, and my muscles are beginning to slow in their ability to respond, because I edged into just around the safe limits of my S P for the day. Apparently it’s a bit more than six hundred now, which is fantastic news. As I push closer and closer to a thousand safe S P in a day, I wonder if it’s also pushing back the maximum amount before I instantly pass out? During some day of downtime, when we don’t have things looming quite so closely, I may push my limits to find out. For now, here goes the riskiest inventory dump yet.
Thankfully, though my gathered allies do share in a moderately intense pain, they’re unharmed. As I expected of myself however, as I see the vast array of belongings materialize, I pass out in the arms of Kinzul and Teuila, falling back into Luni and Lil.