After our intimate flight, and more-intimate embrace in the depths of this secreted lair, near a bloody altar, I let myself rest easily against Kinzul as her teeth remain clamped about my jugular. After a time in this embrace, I slowly twist and elongate my neck enough to reach Kinzul’s with my own teeth, raking her neck lightly, not drawing blood as she has. I can sense the urgency, the need Kinzul has for my life essence. I consent, happy to give as much of it as she needs, including all of it if necessary. I know that if she took my life, she’d protect my loved ones with every bit of her soul.
Of course, that isn’t what Kinzul is doing, but I still feel the waves of emotions overcoming her as she revels in the faith I have in her. Kinzul lays me upon the altar, and lets my few droplets of blood spill forth upon it, as my wound closes up from my innate regeneration. There’s a tiny mixture of smirk and frown from Kinzul as she realizes she must once again sink her lips and teeth into my neck to draw forth blood. She’s intimate, and careful, not intending to actually rend my jugular open deeply. We repeat as she drains more of my blood onto this altar several times, her body, her perfect, regal, amazing body, atop mine.
Telepathically Kinzul whispers, almost muttering, “I wish I could tell you all of why this must be, my love. I wish for all the worlds that—. I’m sorry for what will come to pass, and the regrets we will harbor. You are every bit my champion, and that of all those who need you. You are ever-beloved to me in ways I cannot express, perhaps might never be able to express. There are things that I’ve accomplished now, that I am accomplishing now, that I will accomplish, that will not come to light until what you might consider perhaps too late. Thank you for your faith, your trust, your life, and your love.”
Suddenly her teeth sink in once more, far more deeply than previously, and I nearly cry out in shock. Kinzul begins to transform, and her draconic maw clamps down around my neck tightly, squeezing, choking me. Or, she would be choking me, if I didn’t have an enchanted item preventing exactly that. Still, having my windpipe crushed is not a pleasant experience.
Kinzul telepathically begs me to sleep with tears in her eyes, and I wish I could simply acquiesce to her request, but we’d worked together to make this form of mine capable of taking incredible punishment without succumbing. She pleads with me, begging me, and the only way I know how to grant her request is to remove my neckchain, so I do. I trust her completely. If this is what she needs, then so be it. I place my faith, all of it, in the jaws, the heart, the eyes, the mind, and the love of the woman squeezing the life from me.
I begin to black out as I’m incapable of breathing. When there’s no breathing happening from me any longer, the tears from Kinzul mingle with my own, and though her draconic face is fraught with sadness and grief, I only smile up at my wife. Passing from the waking world into the unconscious one feels as if being enveloped by a familiar, cool, calm, welcoming void.
“Not yet,” speaks the non. It ripples and reverberates around and through me. A voice both everywhere and nowhere all at once, a part of me, yet external.
Somehow I *am*, and I know that this is somehow an affront to *where* I am, or perhaps *who* I am. The where and the who are the same, somehow. Devoid of life, of light, of sensation, everything is nothing, and the nothing is everything. Somehow, it’s more important than anything. There’s a presence in the non. The presence is, and isn’t me, at the same time. The presence is a triune. Yet it’s more, and simultaneously less. It’s moving, and not. It was sent, but taken. It was bargained, yet stolen.
Somehow, it both shall never be, yet simultaneously arrives with the light of dawn.
Awaking in a pile of limbs of those beloved to me, my windpipe still feels rather awful, but I can sense the neckchain of the ever-breathing around it once more. I can sense the sadness within the sleeping form of Kinzul, the feeling of having betrayed me in some way, cheated me, stolen from me in some way. I draw her close and sink my lips into hers, trying to pass my acceptance, my forgiveness to her on every possible level, conscious and subconscious.
I rest, and lose consciousness once more for a time. When I come to, my neck feels much better. It’s nearing the pre-dawn hour in which we’ll be leaving for our assigned offensives soon. I can sense it without even checking the phone, somehow. Is there anything I can do? Anything I should do? Lil, Lu, and the Vivant are still beat up, barely recovered from their assault two days ago. Kinzul is still hiding her own pain and injuries from that same offensive.
Kinzul taught me that I can fly under my own power, the power of my Honoris Causa. I could leave, and take on Vorzog’s keep by myself, letting Lu, Lil, and Lucky help out Te, the Dormir, and the Vivant. It would take more of my dragonforce to get to the location, and back, because of how much drains away per second to fully manifest my Void Dragon Honoris Causa form. It’d sap dragonforce that I won’t be able to replenish at the keep, since it’s not home to any ancient dragons, rather some of the most fearsome, most powerful Draconiacs to ever have lived.
I hate solo adventures, and I hate making Lil feel like he has to catch up to me, to keep things from falling in my lap, to keep things from seemingly being up to me to solo. Isn’t it the safer option though? I don’t have any synergy with the Triple L Squad. I mean, that’s not entirely true. Lil can breathe fire around me for days, granting me both a smokescreen, and protection from melee foes, and even certain ranged weapons like arrows. I don’t see how to include Lucky and Luni though, or what to—.
Telepathically, Luni grumbles, “If you even think of trying to leave us behind, I will find a way to bury you so deep you can’t get out til the end of this war. Please stop. Rest a little longer my hero, please. We’ve got this, all of us together. We always have, and always will. Please sweetie? I don’t know what happened last night, and Kinzul was incredibly upset when we met up for bed, but just, just stop. Please. You don’t have to do this alone. Never again.”
Gulping back a sob as my heartbeat catches and pauses painfully momentarily, I can only nod slowly towards Lu’s telepathic avatar. Should I tell Luni what happened? Or, well, what I think happened. Maybe I didn’t know exactly what was happening at the time, or after the fact, since I wasn’t going to be conscious. I feel some other areas on my body that must have also—. I guess I’ll just trust Kinzul to reveal things when it’s the right time, even if I supposedly might feel like those are too late.
Teuila shifting sends her arm flying which ends up sending her forearm slapping into my face. Oof. Yeah, I’m awake now. I don’t think I’ll be getting to sleep again after that. Levitating myself out of bed, Luni starts to complain, but I assure her I’m not sneaking off to go run a solo mission. At least, I think I’m not. I just want to prepare, and pack. I’ll do any mana free enchanting of objects that I can, while I’ve got some time. I’ve gotten plenty of sleep, based on when I believe I fell asleep yesterday.
Floating out of Kinzul’s den, towards Mount Verdimenn, I’m surprised when Iylynila stands before me, and seems to patiently await me pausing for her. I lower myself to the ground and stand in front of her, with my head cocked to one side and the opposite eyebrow raised. Illy takes a long moment before inhaling and sighing deeply.
Suddenly Illy embraces me quickly and mutters, “Keep yourself, and them safe, and get your stupid gremlin munchkin crimson-smurf-ass ass home. Okay? Tenith has your goggles, she’ll keep an eye on us, so you don’t have to worry about us. Just take care of you, and your crew. Thank you, for everything. Especially—. Never mind. Just do it, okay? Win, be safe. See you when we make it back Schism.”
Before I can respond, Illy kisses my cheek with the shortest, quickest peck possible, and she turns swiftly to stride away, seemingly regretting even the briefest of lip contact. I find my hand reluctantly in mid-air before me, reaching towards where Illy had been. My heart catches in my throat, and I’m not even capable of breathing at the moment. Sadness draws across my face, but all I can do is nod to no one in particular, trying to agree to Illy’s request.
I’m torn in so many ways. Some think it’s entirely up to me to make sure everyone comes home safe. Some seemingly make requests of me that I can’t even be conscious for to be able to agree to. Others are assuring me I don’t have to stand at the top, at the fore, alone. I think—. I think right now, if I could speak with Errissa, that would be about the best thing I could do to get my head on straight, oddly enough. Sadly, I can’t. Oddly, second-best I feel like might be Nala, of all people. Nala views me in an odd light. She’s not one of our combatants, and she doesn’t really rely on me for anything. We benefit from each other’s friendship, but it’s one of the least dependent friendships that I have.
Taking a detour, I float towards the library, knowing Nala will be up, unless it’s one of the rare times every few months that she accidentally lets herself sleep. Hm, there are some kobolds snoozing in the stacks. I wonder if these are her assistants, or patrons. Well, that snoozing pair was definitely up to something other than curating books, heh. I snirk, trying not to make note of the amorous kobolds intertwined in their sleeping position.
Huh. Where’s Nala though? Should—. Should I check her room across the hall? Would it be an invasion of privacy? She doesn’t have a door, and I know for a fact, that you can very well see her bed from the doorway. I test sending Nala a direct telepathic message, checking in on her, and get no response. I’m not exactly worried about Curator, especially not since we’ve just enhanced security within Solace by dozens-fold. Still, it’s a bit odd.
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Floating my way over towards her bedroom, there’s someone in Nala’s bed, but it’s another kobold. There’s certainly a lot of Atter’s people partaking in the library, and Nala’s little refuge in general. Could Nala still be down at Mount Verdimenn, crafting and enchanting and tinkering? Well, she doesn’t exactly sleep, and I was headed that way anyway before I stopped by here.
Floating along on my T K Surfboard, I zip through the quiet halls of Solace in the pre-dawn hours of September twenty-sixth. Heh, it’s a Monday I think. The start of the work-week, and we’re about to head to work, busting skulls of Terrorzin’s forces. Hm, that pair look a bit despondent, and lost, and oh—. Those are Leezahna’s erstwhile friends. Should I even do anything to help mend their friendship, since I’m the one that caused the rift? Are they going to be good or bad influences on her?
Is it my place to care or to judge that? Is it my place to even interfere though in order to rectify things? Blugh, what’s the moral or ethical thing to do here? To choose not to decide, I’ll still have made a choice. I suppose I’ll choose to let free-will reign, and let them figure it out themselves. Sorry ladies. Hopefully you forgive me, and if you patch things up with Leeza, the three of you end up being better than you appeared to be when you were disdainful towards everyone else.
Oh wow, there’s Nala, and she’s working away with—. What are those!? Wow, that’s just, like a little clockwork armada in the making. Are they—, are they self-replicating? My face contorts. Oh, how odd. It seems that when a new one is made, one of the previous ones seems to stop functioning. It’s as if Nala’s enchantment of them can only sustain a certain number at a time, at least currently.
Grumbling telepathically, Nala confirms, “That has been my suspicion as well. How do you do it, friend-Reggie? How do you break limits such as these? What must I do to exercise whatever magical muscles allow me to tinker and enchant in such intriguing fashions? How do I expand my capabilities?”
Phew. I pass a breath through puffed cheeks and pursed lips while thinking, seeking an answer for her. Responding as best I can, I guess, “For me, it’s exactly how you’re stating it, exercising those magical muscles, doing exactly what you’re doing, ramming yourself into the end of your limits headfirst, over and over until those limits expand.” Nala’s groan at my confirmation of her suspicions leads to me hastily adding, “But there are certain things that aid with, um, what I call lateral growth. Rather than a direct increase in power, what I’d call vertical growth, a lateral, or horizontal growth is extra tools in your toolbelt, metaphysically speaking. It’s a broader array of applications of your powers or talents, or entirely new talents, that don’t require or pull from the same pool of resources as your other talents. Ack, I must sound like I’m talking down to someone as intelligent as you, sorry, sorry. Have you had a chance to pick through any of the shop catalogue material yet, or any of the magic items in our vaults?”
There’s a heated blush that answers my question for me before Nala states, “Erm, no I suppose not. I’d been rather caught up, attempting to see just how far I could go with these intriguing little automatons. It doesn’t seem to matter whether I give them ambulatory limbs, digits, wings, copters, or whatever I’d like, the limit seems to remain the same. I’m partial to this one, it’s a bit adorable if I must say. Let’s see, how did it go again? Yes, if I focus, I can deactivate one of those new ones, and this one will be—. There! Yes, delightful little chap. Or, erm, lass? I’ve no idea.”
Nala does manage to re-activate one that appeared to simply be a slightly-oversized wind-up pocket-watch, but now it’s got legs, arms, hands and feet that extend from inside its inner clockwork-workings. It seems to “sense” by somehow seeing out of the area where a single cog makes up a miniature gear-face for a second-hand of its clock-facing. The creature? Erm, clockwork being leaps up to Nala’s shoulder, and gives her a hug, much to her chagrin.
Lamenting the actions of her automaton, Nala comments, “They seem to have a bit of a mind of their own, and are prone to showing affection, as awkward as that is. Erm, you were saying though? You’d given me a stipend, and I’d been a bit too busy to think of spending it. Have you any hints to offer as to what you think I’d benefit from spending it on?”
Passing another breath through puffed cheeks, I end by gnawing on my bottom lip. What would benefit Nala, that I wouldn’t simply need for myself or the Order? I suppose specifically enchanted clockwork-tools. Perhaps her Latent could help her figure out by offering Curator scores specific to her for items from the shop catalogues? Heck, maybe her automatons have some sort of sapience that would allow them to help her find out.
Balking, Nala grumps, “I highly doubt my little clockworks have any—, yes thank you darling. Any sort of—. No not that one. Any sort of sapience to, hm, oh yes, quite—. Oh. Oh my. Perhaps my little darlings do. How very odd. I haven’t given them minds, or spirits, as far as I can tell. I was shocked enough when they seemed to be, well, autonomous. Though I suppose I should feel abashed when I consider the word.”
I bite my lips to keep from smirking or chuckling at Nala’s realization that her automatons are autonomous. It seems her current limit is exactly half a dozen active enchanted or clockwork creations or creatures that are in some way empowered by her. For things that she seems to simply be copying and crafting copies of that already exist as types of magic items, she seems to be able to produce an endless quantity of, though it requires rare resources of course, and time, and effort. Hm, that might expand Nala’s horizontal, lateral power growth.
Which of my magic items are most creative rather than destructive? Not that I don’t trust Nala with destructive powers, it’s just not the type of thing she seems to be working towards expanding upon. As I’m thinking this, one of Nala’s automatons looses a force-bolt blast that knocks a shelf over, causing several other clockworks to quickly leap into action to keep it from causing a chain reaction of toppling shelves. Raising an eyebrow towards Nala, she appears abashed.
After the briefest of moments, Nala explains, “I thought perhaps it may be interesting to see what one of them could do with a turret, a micro-cannon that moved energy from some aetheric realm, into the air. I, well, wasn’t incorrect. It was interesting to see. Though perhaps not the wisest activity I could have partaken of.”
I can’t help chuckling and smiling at Nala any longer. Snorting a laugh and shaking my head, I’m tempted to simply leave her to it to experiment, completely having forgotten why I came down here, or what suggestions I may have had for her. Thankfully, Nala gets me back on track after a moment, and I show her several enchanted objects that she might be able to reproduce, that could grant her, or possibly anyone in the Onyx Dawn, new suites of abilities.
We do need Charles and his crew to succeed with their prototype of the bangle however. It might be up to Nala to make sure that it becomes compatible with the runic clips. If it lacks the inherent enchantment quality that lets the runic clips impart their powers onto the bangles’ wielders, then it’s a pointless endeavor. Nala might be the key to preventing that from being a lost-cause. Leaving Nala with that hint, as well as a request that she check out the titles on the various tomes in her own shop catalogue, utilizing an intermediary to purchase them for her from herself if necessary, I wave to Nala as I depart.
I hadn’t exactly meant to get embroiled in that. I recall feeling like I had some emotional sorting to take care of, but I’m rather disoriented after that whole rigmarole. While disoriented, floating randomly about our project space, I literally bump into Leezahna exiting a respawn-warren, and immediately catch her in a telekinetic grip to prevent her from toppling over due to my clumsy stupidity.
Apologizing, I start off, “I’m so sorry, I was distracted and hadn’t realized where I was, or who was around. I hope you’re doing alright, and having a decent morning Leezahna. Has your stipend been helping get you started? Are you okay?”
There’s a short flash of ire, quickly subdued by a flash of fear, before Leeza becomes mostly her prideful self. Once she’s collected herself, Leezahna begins, “Erm, quite yes, Schism. Thank you. The, the um, the very generous stipend has, well, I’ve used up a large portion, but I sort of, well, yes, I have much of what I need, and want. Thank you for the opportunity, and, and everything. Some of what I purchased doesn’t really suit my tastes or needs, but, well, I suppose we don’t know exactly what we’re getting with this magic just yet. You said you were working on that.”
Hesitating only a moment, Leezahna adds, “I’ve got preliminary um, quantities for you, volumes on each of the warrens, or, will, since I asked the volunteers to wake me and let me take stock before they gathered anything today. I’ll be finished in another short while. Perhaps an hour or two? Maybe longer, some of the calculations are more difficult due to odd shapes. Can I turn them over to you then?”
Ah, drat, I’d love to accept them, but I’d better let her know now, “I’m incredibly grateful for your diligence Leezahna, but at that point, I’ll likely be halfway to Vorzog’s keep, or possibly already there,” joking a tad darkly, I add, “Hey, if you’re lucky, I might not even make it home breathing.”
Oof, that was way too dark. Even Leezahna looks stricken, realizing that she had previously asked me to die. I start to apologize, but Leezahna beats me to it, “I, I hate you. You’re insufferable, and, and, and ugh. And I deserved that. I, I might hate you, but I don’t, erm, I don’t want you to die. It, it would, it might mean the end of all this. I don’t want to lose Solace, or my new home, or my family, or, or anything. That, okay, I get that that’s a selfish reason to not want you to die, but kindly screw you Schism. You monstrous— ugh.”
Then, realizing she started to tear into me, Leezahna pales with fear, so I quickly respond, “Sorry, sorry, I went overboard there. You’re right, and it’s fair for you to hate me. I’m glad you don’t want to lose this. I hope it becomes a happy home for you, that leads you to a life that you can enjoy and share that joy with others. I did mean it though, that I’ll be off to battle shortly, I apologize for the dark humor, but—.”
Interrupting me to chime in Leezahna gulps repeatedly, seemingly caught in some vision of the past, as she fearfully, haltingly adds, “They’re, glp, powerful, and, and frightening. When Vorzog’s lieutenants paid visits, even father, he—, glp. I—. I wasn’t allowed to make appearences during my youth, not until, well, one time, the most recently. I was taken to—.”
Leezahna’s face further darkens, and she doesn’t explain further, seemingly completely caught in some memory. My ire begins to raise as I suspect what happened to her. Growling, I mutter, “I’ll end them all. Farewell.” I leave without a further word. All my muscles lock, I stop breathing beyond enough to seethe with venomous hatred. I’m fully ready to utterly decimate the entirety of Vorzog’s Keep.