"Long have I waited!" Jungrathol shouted from the side of the mountain he sat on. He was seated on the ground, his massive red frame standing out to her once again enhanced vision against the snow and rock. Held down by his arms, however, was something new.
Mina stared at the big machine that stretched nearly two person-lengths under him, watching as it continually struggled to break free from the four-armed grasp which held it.
"It was not long," Ir'alith protested. She set down with force from her dive like a person landing from a lengthy jump, spraying snow forward in a great plume.
"It was," Jungrathol said. "My arm is tired."
"Which arm?"
"This one."
"Have caution, it will escape!"
"It will not. I need only three arms for this task." Jungrathol let out a grunt and smashed the machine in its head with his 'tired' arm, which was an action that had no discernible effect.
Mina hopped off the back of the transformed Ir'alith and wandered around the side of her wings to achieve a closer look.
"Do not only lay preening now that you have returned," Jungrathol grumbled.
"I thought you capable of restraining it with but three arms?"
"Because I am capable does not mean I enjoy doing so."
Mina laughed quietly. They must share quite a close bond to banter in this way. How odd. For so long we've thought them nothing but cruel monsters incapable of compassion or—
"Mina, what can you learn from this?" Ir'alith interrupted.
Jungrathol grunted again, then heaved with all of his arms and tossed the big, moving machine, which Mina now realized resembled a giant dog, into the air.
The terrified human girl screamed and retreated, cowering behind a blue wing.
Dogs.
Her oldest, strongest fear.
She trembled, feeling spittle again fly out to land on her face. Her surroundings filled with endless barking and the gnashing of teeth. Jaws snapped shut a handsbreadth from her face, and she fell backwards with a wail, feeling a cold burning against her skin as she curled up as tightly as she was able. Growls closed in, accompanied by the clack of teeth.
"Isemeine, do not succumb to your fear!" Mister Compton ordered. "You are royalty! You cannot have such weakness!"
Isemeine whimpered, her hands pressed to her face as tears streamed down her cheeks. Her breathing quickened, and she jerked back again as she sensed the dog's teeth nearing her throat.
She couldn't.
She couldn't.
She couldn't.
"Mina. Mina? Mina."
Isemeine shuddered.
"You are safe, Mina. No harm will befall you here. This I vow."
She felt something warm surrounding her and pressing against her. The sounds of the dogs began to fade. She took a deep breath, feeling that perhaps she would be alright.
"Good, you have become calm. Humans are not so different as I thought."
Mina's vision refocused, and she started.
"Have you recovered?" called Ir'alith.
"Um…" Mina stared up into Jungrathol's face from her current location, that of being cradled and gently rocked in two of his brawny arms. She blinked several times.
"It is as I said," Jungrathol said, his voice a somewhat quieter than usual as he continued to rock her. "As one who has never nurtured offspring, you cannot recognize the fear of a child."
"I'd like to be set down," Mina said. Truly this meeting with the so-called devils has become more and more strange. She felt herself being lowered towards the ground, then she was abruptly turned and placed on her feet, which she retook with only a slight stumble.
She turned back to the still-seated red behemoth. "Um… Thank you, Jungrathol," she said.
He grinned, and she did her very utmost not to flinch.
"What caused such terror?" Ir'alith asked, sounding strained.
Mina flinched.
"Be gentle with the human," Jungrathol said in a chastising tone. "She fears the machine's might." He patted Mina on the head softly. "Be at ease, human," he said, looking down at her and folding one pair of his arms over his chest. "I am Jungrathol, and I have made a vow to protect you in this place. I have never broken a vow."
Odd as it is, he's rather reassuring somehow. In a way, he reminds me of Carl. The scheming, disgusting human grimaced. "I fear dogs," she said, forcing the sentence out that she'd never before spoken in an attempt to change her thoughts from recalling the awful, horrible manner in which she'd selfishly thought to manipulate perhaps the one person alive who truly seemed to care for her.
"This is not a dog," Jungrathol said firmly. "It is a machine. Did you not tell us so?"
"It looks somewhat dog-like," Mina said while keeping her eyes downcast.
"You fear all things which share that appearance?" he asked.
With reluctance, she nodded.
"If I tear its head from its body, you will not be afraid," Jungrathol said. He pushed himself to his feet with one hand and looked up. "Lower the machine so that I can quench her fear."
Mine decidedly did not look upwards at that moment, instead continuing to resolutely stare at the ground. "I…" She clenched her teeth and one hand. "You can't," she said, recalling once more the feeble penance she had set for herself. "I'll need to examine it while it's capable of moving to determine a manner in which it can be effectively defeated."
Jungrathol paused in his steps around her.
"I'll overcome this fear," the awful girl said slowly. "I must."
"Good," said Ir'alith. She let out a struggle-filled grunt. "Jungrathol, assist me. This machine is strong, and its touch weakens me."
The red giant moved out of view, his steps falling heavily on the snow. "I have it."
There was a scrabbling sound followed by a thump.
"Mina, I thank you again for your help," said Ir'alith. "What form will your examination of the living machine take?"
Mina sighed. I must. I must. She turned around.
Jungrathol had wrestled the machine—which was not a dog—to the ground and was holding its head—which was not a dog's—and body—which was also not a dog's—pressed down against the snow with such force that it showed no ability to move or lunge towards her with its jaws wide…
She took a deep breath. "I've some questions," she said, attempting to distract herself with her curiosity. She took a step to the side, feeling that its eyes were somehow watching her even though its head faced another direction. "You've said this machine inhibits magic?"
"It does."
Mina frowned, again taking a step to the side, then another. "With that thought in mind, I find myself wondering how I'm still capable of understanding you. And should your spell of warming upon me not be rendered inert?"
"It is…not simple to explain," said Ir'alith. She positioned her forelegs before her torso and rested her head upon them. "There is a distorting effect which increases with nearness. It grows stronger when more of the machines are present. With only this large one, I cannot invoke magic with precision. Spells and enchantments will remain active, but they will lose effectiveness over time. I would not create a gate or shift my form with it so close because the results would be unpredictable."
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So it is perhaps like a sort of blanket which smothers magic, with each successive machine adding to its weight and thus its efficacy. How clever. Surely the mechanism for such a feat could be made with less work if it needn't bear the full burden of preventing all magic on its own. Mina stroked her chin. "Have you noticed any other capabilities? You've mentioned its prowess in battle, and it can disrupt magic, but what else is it capable of?"
"It is strong," rumbled Jungrathol. "There are few able to subdue it as I am."
"It is difficult for me," Ir'alith admitted.
Mina's gaze switched back and forth between the two. So Jungrathol is stronger than her? But if she's a Demon Queen, does that make him a Demon King?
"This form is useful for flight, and it is large, but it is not especially strong," Ir'alith clarified.
Ir'alith threatened him with informing his wife, so it seems clear they've not entered that sort of relationship, at the least, since she doesn't regard herself with the same classification. Or perhaps their kind doesn't permit multiple husbands and wives as we do? What foolishness. Have I truly begun to consider relationships among the devils? I've grown too easily distracted with all manner of thing.
"It may have the ability to contact its kind," Ir'alith said after a short while.
Mina blinked. "What?"
"We were pursued," Ir'alith said slowly. "Many were the occasions in which I thought us beyond their reach, but we were set upon each time. Only after nearly a half day of flight did they yield."
"I grew tired waiting for their surrender," Jungrathol grumbled.
"You stood atop my back. I flew for the duration."
"I could not sleep, such was the force of the wind."
"Jungrathol."
"What? I speak the truth!"
Mina began to laugh. They must be quite close friends to speak so freely.
"She laughs at you, Jungrathol."
"She would laugh at you were she to learn how you grew distracted when contacted by—"
"We will not speak of such things," Ir'alith said quickly, the scales on her head changing their color towards a light purple.
Which seems to be a mannerism unique to when Carl is mentioned, indicating… Mina frowned. He showed such distress this afternoon, yet he casually speaks with her when he's alone? Perhaps customs are different in his world, but seldom would a man contact a woman for mere conversation in Charus City. And certainly not using whatever manner of magic was necessary to cross such a vast distance. But… Her eyes widened. "You spoke of being pursued, yes? And you believed this machine capable of contacting its kind at distance?"
"Yes," said Ir'alith.
"It may not be only the other machines which it's capable of contacting," Mina said, her thoughts whirling. "Perhaps its master as well." She inhaled sharply. "If it's capable of contacting others like it, then it must also be capable of being contacted." Her eyes fixed on the machine's head, which bore no resemblance to that of a dog. "Which, perhaps, means its master is capable of communicating with it or receiving communication, which could mean that we're being observed at this very moment!"
"It cannot use magic," Ir'alith stated. "It would not be possible with the distortion. How could it communicate at such a distance without—"
"I've not the slightest idea," Mina said, shaking her head. "But it's clearly capable of it. Which would mean…" Which would mean its master may know of Carl. And me. While we have no hint of who they might be.
The idea was terrifying. Surely one capable of creating such a machine would be furious were one absconded with. And they would seek retribution against anyone involved or perhaps hold them prisoner for ransom…
"The hero can hear us?" Jungrathol asked, tilting his head.
"I did not consider such a thing, but the idea seems to be reasonable," said Ir'alith.
Jungrathol looked down at the machine, then wrenched its head up to face him. "You. Human hero. When I find you, I will break each one of your bones in no fewer than two places. I will pull your spine from your back. You think to harm the protector? Your limbs will be cut off in small pieces, and you will watch while I eat them. Slowly. I will use your remains to teach my son the proper way to skin a kill. And then I will give you to the protector to do with as she would. This I vow."
Mina stared.
Jungrathol glared at the machine's head for a little longer, then harrumphed and slammed it back into the ground while it struggled the slightest amount.
"I am honored to hear your vow, Jungrathol," Ir'alith said with a certain sense of seriousness.
Jungrathol looked over to her. "I jest at times, but there are none I respect more, Protector."
Perhaps "Protector" is her title, as she is called Demon Queen by humanity. He seems considerably enraged by the attack she suffered.
"I am honored again," Ir'alith said. "I am pleased you are here, Jungrathol."
"I am honored, Protector."
Ir'alith turned her head to look towards the human girl. "Mina, have you other questions? Your way of thinking is clever."
"Clever," Jungrathol agreed.
Mina felt herself flush at the unexpected praise. "Well…" She stared again at the machine. It twitched, and Jungrathol punched it in the head before giving her a black-toothed grin. How can I even begin to approach a problem such as this. If only I had… "Would it be possible for me to speak with Valgud once more? I should think he'd have any number of ideas which might spur my own."
Ir'alith picked her large head up off her forelegs. "I will bring him," she said, once more speaking without moving her jaws. "Continue your examining without me." She leapt into the sky in a single motion and was almost instantly a speck on the horizon.
I suppose I didn't take notice while I was flying atop her, but she's incredibly fast. I wonder whether she's capable of flying more swiftly than my steamcar. Perhaps she would accept a challenge to race at a later time. She's considerably faster than the other steamcars I've seen at the lower track, that much is apparent.
Mina took a cautious step closer to the machine and Jungrathol, but the former made no substantive motion. "Jungrathol, would you tell me of the manner in which you captured it?" Perhaps with something to distract me I might be more able to overcome this small part of my fear.
"I will," Jungrathol said. "We set out at daybreak."
----------------------------------------
My memory is not perfect.
If you need detail, ask the Protector.
We gathered early. I told my wife I would be hunting.
She did not believe me.
The Protector said we might die.
My wife, Dor'ennan, became enraged. She cast me into the air with her magic.
I struck the top of the Great Barrier. I have never before touched that part of it. It felt like the other parts I have touched. I fell and hit the ground.
The Protector said I was needed.
My wife became sad.
I said my farewell, and the Protector created a gate.
We used the gate. Then we flew.
The Protector can kill machines alone. She cannot capture them alone. Her strength is magic.
Mine is not.
We scouted. Great were their numbers.
She spoke of their ability to conceal themselves.
They were not using this ability.
Foolish. A warrior must always ready their full strength to avoid a surprise attack.
She flew over a small group of machines numbering no more than five.
You requested a living machine, and the Protector is the strongest.
We captured the largest machine we saw.
I would accept no other.
Her strength must be known.
I dropped from the sky.
They did not ready their full strength.
I landed on a smaller one.
It was crushed.
I tore the head from a larger one.
It died.
I broke the back of another.
It may have died.
I twisted the leg off another and hurled it with all my strength.
It did not move as far as I wished.
I held this one with my left arms during this time.
It struggled. It is strong.
It is not as strong as me.
I continued to hold it while I ran.
The Protector flew near the ground.
We flew away.
More machines chased us. Many more.
I restrained the machine.
Carl spoke to us. It was magic.
The Protector turned pink and shone like a sun.
Yes, I know what color is pink.
Hearts are pink sometimes when I pull them from the chests of my enemies. It is a brighter color than most hearts. This is not common. There are not many pink hearts. They do not taste or smell different. I have questioned why they are sometimes pink. The Protector does not know. Dor'ennan does not know. Others in our forest do not know. Do you know?
Maybe you are not so clever.
We stopped flying.
The machines caught us.
We flew again.
The machines chased us across rivers. They chased us across mountains. They chased us through forests. They knew where we were. Maybe they could smell us.
I do not have a smell.
The Protector does not have a smell.
Yes, you may smell me.
I do not know how it is possible. Why do humans smell?
Sweat? What is sweat?
No, why would I squeeze water through my skin?
Humans are stupid. You should not do that.
What? You should not. Humans need water to live. Why would you waste it?
Humans. Next you will tell me you do not lay eggs.
It was a jest.
What does this gesture mean? Does your nose pain you? Ah, you are smelling yourself. I understand. I can smell you too.
Yes. You smell like a human.
Ask the Protector to heal you if your smell is so painful. I cannot help.
No, we flew more.
The Protector decided we would fly far away.
We crossed an ocean.
That is what she called it.
I cannot swim. I sink in water.
I trust the Protector.
We waited.
The machines did not catch us again.
This is the story of how we captured this machine.