Waking up in a pile of baby dragons was not how Steff had wanted to start his morning. They smelled like piss, felt like shit, and cried like the bunch of slightly larger dragons that were walking the rows weren’t ever going to come back around to feed them. Which was dumb, Steff thought as he snapped up another piece of mystery meat as it came by, the place worked like clockwork… quite literally in fact.
A dully glowing, what could only be called skyscraper sized gear loomed ominously out of the distant darkness and strangely symboled clocks spaced themselves neatly between the long rows of floating lanterns that seemed to be the only illumination in the dark place and like some sort of twisted chicken farm, the grated isle clattered noisily with various gear centric machinery; filling the troughs, swapping the grates.
Not that they were the only things around. Besides the small dragons who casually tossed their mystery meat like it was some sort of game around, there were small bipedal dog-lizard things scurrying between their legs, or maybe it was more accurate to say beneath their legs.
Curiously, Steff shifted the straw he was on to get a better look. There was a whole nother level to the place. The hatchlings shit, straw would fall, and the space beneath their grates would slowly fill till one of the little lizards would come along, clack a large switch, open the cage and bark at a few of his friends to come shovel it out and cart it away.
Pushing the straw back into place, Steff scootched his back up a little and against the short rail that separated him from the isles. His clutchmates, that’s what he was going to call the crying pile of surprisingly diverse colored dragons, were all but rolling about their eggshells and every so often another one of the many eggs would rustle it’s way out of the straw, crack itself open to reveal yet another whiny little dragon and Steff would more often than not have to yet again change his position so he could let the little guy or gal tumble itself into the growing pile.
If it wasn’t for the smell—though it wasn’t really that bad what with all the hurried cleaning going on—Steff might have compared it to a pile of mewling kittens. He was pretty sure there was some sort of instinct going on here after all. Steff wasn’t really too sure why else he had to think so hard about why exactly he didn’t want to be part of the shit fondue.
Steff scootched his way over to the foremost of the rails. A little white dragon sat shivering, looking somewhat incredulously at the dragonpile. Though she also looked a little conflicted. Steff tilted his head. Huh. How exactly had he known that?
“Hey.” Steff raised a paw. Not that he really expected a response. “Pile looks pretty cozy there eh?”
“How can they stand that?” She whispered, as if to no one in particular. Her nose twitched and she wiggled her head back as the large, topmost looking gold dragon exhaled a large very satisfied sounding ‘brap!’ “It’s simply… pungent.”
Ok now besides the fact a literally-just-born baby dragon knew the word pungent, Steff decided to discreetly ignore the great many other questions this sort of personality driven comment that’d been made brought up; in favor of the simple fact that, well… her mouth hadn’t moved.
Hastily, Steff rubbed a bit of the rail next to them so he could get a better shine out of his blurred reflection.
He kept his eyes on the metal. “Yeah, not really my first choice of hatching scenarios if you catch my drift and all.”
Predictably, his mouth didn’t move either. He felt his eyes involuntarily widen. Though, in hindsight, Steff really wasn’t sure why this was the most surprising thing out of the frankly ridiculous number of clearly magical other things that’d been happening since he’d woken up.
He gave his reflection a little smile. Though, it turned out more like a sort of horrible teeth-bare. He jerked his head back. Just in time to see the little white dragon finally seem to notice him. She appeared a little surprised.
She glanced around a little before meeting his eyes. “Huh. Well at least somebody’s sensible.” She stepped out of the way of a flopping green, looking at him curiously. “Convenient coloration.”
While it wasn’t exactly camo, Steff had to agree. “Back in black.” He gave her a chuckle. “Wouldn’t know the half of it. Though… you think they’re just dumb?” He nodded at the pile as the large gold happily tumbled down the side though he was very quick to nuzzle his way back in. “Or weak? I’ve been getting this sort of tugging feeling—” He tapped his chest. “—around here telling me I really want to go pile with them.”
She blinked at him, before quietly looking down to where he’d tapped himself—on her own chest of course. “I never considered that. I thought they were just oblivious.” She frowned. “Or perhaps dumb really is the better word for it. It is frustrating none of them wish to talk.”
“I mean, if you’re that curious, it’s not like you gotta ask them personally. Hey!” Steff called out as one of the, if rather isolated, caretakers trooped by. The large green seemed to do a double take, staring at him in surprise. Steff felt a small flash of fear that perhaps he’d made the wrong call, though he was just as quick to dismiss it. He briefly glanced to his right, the evidence was quite literally still staring at him after all, if in a little confusion. The green walked up to the rail. “Mind if I ask why those guys,” He pointed a claw at the dragonpile. “don’t want to talk to us?”
The green pulled what appeared to be some sort of obsidian tablet out from somewhere and proceeded to deftly clack away at it with one of his forepaws as he propped it up with his tail. Again, Steff found it very odd how he just knew it was a dude. He looked up over the pad.
“They’re just a bit slow. Hatchlings usually take around four moons to achieve a modicum of sentience.” He tapped his chin with his other paw, carefully putting away the tablet into what Steff now realized was a small, very burlap looking backpack tucked between his wings. “Statistically speaking, every clutch has about a single outlier to each of the cognitive extremes. I do not think I have ever actually seen two before.” He looked between them. “Though, as there hasn’t actually been a sighting this season I suppose it was about due. It would behoove you to hold your position here, a courier cart will be around after the quickest rod passes a couple of those smallest markings.” He pointed to one of the clocks, chuckling a little. “You can ask the nannies (though you probably shouldn’t call them that) at least a bit of what else you might be thinking right now.”
He tapped him on the head with his tail. “Your name is Septicus.” Then he tapped the white. “And yours is Asche.”
Asche appeared a little stunned at the sudden physical contact. And while Steff, though he guessed he was Septicus now, was quite tempted to try a name change here, he was also fairly certain such a thing would probably not end well for him.
The green appeared to fiddle with something below the railing and Septicus heard a very familiar sounding series of clacks. While he couldn’t actually see beneath the rail, there were small plates made of what Septicus was pretty sure was the same material as the tablet the green had been using through the gaps and below the ones opposite to them, where they were not obstructed by the green’s rather wide body that is.
Though as he was also fairly quick to move out of the way, that wasn’t really a problem for long. Peering down the aisle Septicus realized that not half of them were blank. Luckily after the green stopped at another pen halfway down a block and left the previously blank plate now glowing a series of strange symbols vaguely reminiscent of the ones from the clocks, Septicus was all but certain as to what had happened.
“Wait!” Asche all but squeaked. “Where are you going!”
Septicus paused at the top of the rail, before quietly sliding down the other side. It was very short so it didn’t take very long. “I’m just a bit curious about what he wrote. That’s all. I’ll be back in a second.”
Pointedly, Asche stared at him through a gap in the rail. Though, it very quickly gave in to curiosity. “Well? What is it?”
“Nope,” He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry, I can’t read a thing.”
Looking somewhat annoyed Asche promptly clambered over the railing too. Plopping down next to him with a soft whump. She was noticeably less adroit than him as she’d fallen the last couple inches and had also landed on her but, though, Septicus chalked that up to the simple fact she’d hatched much later than he had.
She took a little gasp, eyes trained on the writing. “They are very pretty. What do you think they mean?”
It was probably some sort of serial code but it wasn’t like he could just tell her that, it was lucky enough as is that she hadn’t caught on to his little slip up. It was probably best to keep her distracted. He pointed down the rows. “It’s probably some sort of identification tag, I saw that green at one of the plates down there and put another line of them down.”
Though apparently he shouldn’t have bothered. Asche had her eyes practically glued to the letters. He checked a clock. There was still a bit of a tick left before the next mark, and it wasn’t like the green had told them to explicitly stay inside their little pen. And it was indeed quite little in the grand scheme of things. Septicus pulled Asche a bit further into the pen’s shadow as another one of the food carts rattled by. This one was managed by a bronze and a gold and raising a paw got him another couple sort of looks of surprise before a large sizzling literal liver was tossed over his head like an oversized beret, it smacked Asche about the head too.
She let out a squeak. Though after wiggling out from under it she also seemed to stop for a second, looking over at him somewhat hesitantly.
To be honest, at first he didn’t really understand what was happening. But after thinking about it for a few, very embarrassingly long seconds, he finally somehow remembered what it was she was probably worried about. Thinking back on the dragonpile; sort of pseudo-fights had very much been a thing and with food being the main sort of instigator, it was a little obvious how now that even the abundance was gone Asche might think it an even bigger sort of problem.
“Err,” He nudged it over with a paw. Not that it did too much as he was not half the size of the slab.“You can have it.”
She gave him a weird sort of look before hesitantly taking a bite. Eyes still, somewhat warily trained on him. Though after the first couple it appeared as if the hunger was simply too much and she almost immediately started very ravenously munching away. To be honest, a kitten sized dragon all but boring its way through a steak wider than it was long was a little comical just to watch. He frowned, where was it even going? Though he almost smacked himself for the thought a second later. Duh, Septicus thought to himself as Asche blithely took a particularly large chomp, it was obviously magic wasn’t it.
With a bit of effort, Septicus wiggled out the rest of his way from under the liver. While it wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, it’d probably be enough to tide her over before the ‘nannies’ got to them. For a literal baby, Asche was weirdly perceptive… and curious to boot and while he was pretty sure she wasn’t inherently malicious or anything, thanks for small favors, he was all but certain he’d mess up sooner rather than later… again.
Carefully he clambered his way up the railings again. It was a few flat bars like you’d find at a cliffside, pretty easy compared to parks he’d climbed as a kid. He’d never been particularly good at those, but apparently baby dragons came with built-in acrobatics because even perching himself off the top of them like some sort of snobbish falcon felt like simply standing on a floor. Though then again, and thinking back to how Asche had clumsily approached it, maybe not.
Not that comparing himself to a bird was entirely baseless. Despite being born quite literally not even a day ago now, his vision felt incredibly crisp. Maybe it was because he’d always worn glasses, though more often than not contacts; but looking out into the distant darkness had never really felt so detailed. A lone empty truck approached from the direction it appeared most of the food ones came from.
Like tractors in a field, long, somewhat orderly lines of them trailed evenly off into the—and now that he got a look at them—seemingly infinite rows of pens. It probably wasn’t actually so what with all the clock-light and a darkness obscuring further than a couple dozen, but it did make it somewhat simple to spot the one truck that wasn’t quite like the others out of its neighbors. Or maybe that was just because it wasn't in one of the lines.
As it slowly rolled up Septicus couldn’t help but notice that the thing wasn’t actually a truck, it was just some sort of railed container on wheels. The bed had been very large and truck-like so he’d just somehow assumed as much when he’d seen it the first time. Though, something else he hadn’t noticed at first… was that there was not exactly any visible way to drive it.
A somewhat bored looking red dragon sat at the head. As if it was some sort of school trip, there were a couple hatchlings seated off top of the wood chips and while they’d appeared to be asking the red some questions at first; when the truck (he was going to call it a truck) had finally lurched to a stop the red had been very quick to curtly dismiss them.
As he also looked a little impatient, Septicus hastily hopped up into the bed. The red looked at him in surprise and Septicus frowned internally, he seemed to get that a lot lately. There was a curious looking blue and a rather disgruntled looking brown seated across from each other near the front next to a large lump of hay and while Septicus had very nearly gone over to quietly join them… he also very nearly belatedly remembered that Asche was still sitting back down below.
Sheepishly, he did what he really hoped was a little smile towards the red. “Err,” he jerked a claw, that wasn’t exactly a thumb, at the cleft Asche had eaten out of the liver and was now very much struggling to get out of. He shuffled back a bit. “Mind if we bring the meat?”
The red looked down at his tablet, much like the green, it was a small piece of what he was pretty sure by now only looked like obsidian. He gave it a couple taps and Septicus almost jumped in surprise as Asche floated up, limbs flailing, liver and all, before rather promptly being dumped next to him with a loud thump. Smoothly, the truck almost immediately started moving again.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Welcome to Worlds End Landing,” The red drolled, somewhat languidly and the truck hit a bump. “Backwards outpost of subplane x21 B. You are a dragon, blessed with inheritance, praise to the Ur. I am Savris, and I will be your orienter for this evening.”
Well that was an info drop, Septicus thought as he did his absolute darndest to school his features.
Savris seemed to look down at his tablet again. Curiously enough, he’d spoken aloud and while Septicus couldn’t exactly understand any of the gruff, horribly consonantal stuff, a sort of second line of it (one that he actually got) trailed off and slightly behind it as if directly inside of his head; much like Asche had done and he guessed he himself had done too.
Looking somewhat annoyed, Savris seemed to pause at something before rather roughly tossing his tablet away. Though he was very quick to rather hastily pick it up again. As if nothing’d happened, he pointedly looked between them.
“It is more of a guideline than anything else,” He said as if that explained it all. “It is also more efficient to answer any questions you might have directly. Though,” He made a sort of face. “To be completely honest, the best sort of advice I can give is to simply go to the library.” He settled back next to the pile of straw.
While he swore they’d been noisy before, the other dragons were unusually quiet now. Though, it didn’t last for very long.
“What do the squiggles mean?” Asche suddenly blurted between a mouthful of liver. She nudged her snout as if to gesture beyond the bed. “On some of the lights, and on the front of the… hatching spaces?”
It was a little scary how fast Savris brightened up at the question. Though, Septicus couldn’t help but notice the brown looked a little affronted now and the blue looked almost as if she could barely contain, what he was fairly certain was laughter.
“Ah! An excellent question!” He pulled up his tablet, flipping it around. The blue and brown scootched up to get a better look and Septicus swore he saw a pair of large gold eyes blink at him out from under the straw. Two rows of eight strange characters appeared, with another row of sixteen below. Savris pointed to the lowest one, then to one of the clocks. “I know most of you inherited the notion of time this time but if you didn’t, just coast along.”
He looked over at Asche and after she nodded hesitantly, he curtly mirrored it in what appeared to be satisfaction.
“They’re clocks, and they keep track of it. Modern Draconic—though only the ancients still call it that—is what those squiggles as you called them are. The ones on the clocks of course are the marks we use for amounts and these upper ones.” He shifted a claw to the upper ones. “Are the ones used to inscribe and communicate more complex thoughts (much like we’re doing right now) into a physical form. Like your name for example.” He swiped away the alphabet, tapping at the tablet a bit before tilting it around again so they could get a better look. “Asche, is actually an ancient Glacian moniker for Ashes, perhaps some of the rest of you inherited a recollection of such? Like a feeling, as if to associate her name to it?”
Huh, now that he thought about it, Septicus was fairly certain the sort of vaguely European sounding thing that he’d had in her head for her wasn’t actually as such. But more like a series of weird sounding growls and the distinct association with an old-timey and very black and white mount saint helens explosion. Wait Septicus thought and he tried to school his growing alarm, could they see that too?
As discreetly as he could possibly manage, he furtively peeked around. Much to his relief, they all seemed much too busy having their own sorts of mini epiphanies too to really care about him. But of course, and most importantly; Savris hadn’t seemed to catch even a whiff of his distinctly un-dragon-like thoughts.
“It’s alright if they’re a little unusual, that is said to be normal for hatchlings.”
Oh. Err, or maybe he had? Septicus decided to simply ask him.
“Can you see my thoughts?”
“No,” He said hesitantly. “Is there something you wanted to show me? Psionics is not exactly my specialty.”
Oh god, so it was possible.
“Sort of? I guess?” Septicus lied. “I had this really cool image of a mountain exploding and I kind of wanted to show Asche.”
Savris tilted his head at him. “You are surprisingly eloquent.” He frowned, tail swishing. “No, that’s not quite right. It’s as if you were… hmm.”
Savris seemed to pause again, as if thinking about something.
“Why’s this one so much prettier than the rest?” Asche demanded and Septicus quietly thanked her in not more than a little relief. At some point she’d gotten a hold of the tablet and was now poking around at it with her tail. “There are squiggles around it. It was on our hatching pen too.”
All but jumping up from the bit of hay he was on, Savris looked incredibly panicked for a second at the sight of the tablet between her paws. Though as he was also very delicate about taking it back Septicus swore he could have been wrong. “Actually,” He tapped it a few times before, if somewhat hesitantly, handing it back over. “Here, you can play with that all you want.”
While there still wasn’t any noise, and if he hadn’t been so before, the brown appeared so incredibly upset at the sight that Septcius couldn’t really help but feel a little sorry for him. Though, as Savris also appeared to be growing progressively more excited as he talked, the guy would probably still be going very much ignored for the foreseeable future. In fact, that was a probably good idea wasn’t it.
“Though, to answer your question,” Savris swiped the screen and a bunch of what looked like weirdly shaped apostrophes appeared. “While the modern Draconic ideology of oversimplification of the phonetic middle Draconic is indeed quite beautiful in and of itself, the addition of mutation, transformation, and sublimation marks in order to accommodate the generally growing scope and also absorption of lesser tongues is the true contributor to the wrongly assumed complexity by the lesser races of our language but also the primary factor in it’s sometimes art-like quality.”
Dragging a claw through the wood chips he curtly drew up a character that’d been off the side of their hatching pen.
“Because of the recent erasure of the knobolds native tongue, our close ties have caused this particular character to become quite popular. In fact, it’s actually quite the topic within the upper linguistics community whether to simplify it (among a few others) into its own separate subset, or to simply leave it as is until the knobolds become more fully integrated. It’s all incredibly exciting stuff. Quite the spotout Asche.”
“What does it sound like?” She asked, carefully nudging it a little.
Savris was now grinning for some reason. He made a sort of noise like a B crossed with an X, no vowels. Septicus was very certain no human could make that sound. “Like that!” He swiped the tablet again before tapping it a bit and a very similar sort of sound escaped from it. “If you tap these, you can listen to what they sound like. Unfortunately, and as much as I would like to continue, I will have to ask you to be quiet now. Follow the lead of Favrin and Royce here.” He swished his tail at the brown and blue respectively. “I’ll also need that back for a click.”
Obediently, Asche handed the tablet back over and Savris seemed to take it back with a small sigh, tapping over it a bit as the truck slowly came to another stop. The back opened with a clunk.
“Welcome to Worlds End Landing,” The Savris drolled. A small purple braced like a deer in the headlights stared up at them from the back of the ramp. “Backwards outpost of subplane x21 B. You are a dragon, blessed with inheritance, praise to the Ur. I am Savris, and I will be your orienter—” He tapped his tablet a couple times and the purple did an incredibly accurate Asche impression as he was pulled, limbs flailing, into the air and deposited into the truck bed. “—for this evening.”
The truck idly began to move again.
“He did that for everyone.” Royce said matter-a-factly, though also very quietly. Between Asche, himself, and the other two dragons they’d gravitated to the far side of the hay pile. Albeit in Asche’s case somewhat reluctantly. She frowned. “Except you I guess.” Though she was very quick go back to smiles. “I’m Royce, this is Favrin, and I guess Savris didn’t really introduce him but this is Zar.” She poked her tail at the hay pile and Asche almost jumped at the sight of the pair of gold eyes he’d seen earlier. “Zar’s a bit shy.”
“No I’m not.” And Septicus swore the pile rustled contemptuously. “It’s just nice and warm in here. You’re simply jealous I thought of it first.”
A large gold snout poked its way out of the pile and Asche almost backed her way up into him at the sight. It sniffed the air. Then the rest of the head promptly followed it out. Now that he could actually see the guy, Septicus couldn’t help but notice Zar was almost twice the size of the rest of them; that, and his scales were almost as gold as his eyes. He looked between Asche, and the remainder of the liver she’d eaten down to the point that she could somewhat drag it a bit behind her. “You done with that?”
Asche wrinkled her nose at him, as if he’d somehow wronged her by simply existing. “No.”
“Oh.” Zar said. He appeared a little hurt. “Alright” Then he tucked his head back into the hay.
“Zar’s a little weird.” Royce said apologetically.
A muffled “I heard that.” sounded out from the hay but Royce appeared to ignore it.
“He’s also the eldest.” Favrin added grumpily. “And he got on first, like, how’s that even fair?”
“Objection.” Zar said from the haypile. Though it was still somewhat muffled. “I was no more answered than the rest of you.”
“Right, and that’s what we’re supposed to do here.” Royce said. “Fill you two in before we get to the nursery.”
“Intake.”
“Well that’s the official name but Savris said only the babies call it that.”
“You’re going to bore their ears off Royce,” Favrin snorted. “Intake is a much better descriptor. We’re only there for a moment, I asked about it too—”
Royce snickered.
Favrin groaned. “Don’t remind me, I know. Anyway, it’s a waste to talk about that.” He glanced to Royce. “You literally heard him say it was just ‘a bunch of doors’ as well.”
“I know.” She squealed. “Isn’t it amazing!”
The hay rustled and what appeared to be a small paper was ejected out of it. It landed near Septicus’s feet. Asche leaned in and flipped it over. It was a worn and strangely detailed map of some sort of complex.
“To clear up any confusion.” Zar’s claw poked out of the hay and pointed to a line near the bottom. “That’s Intake. I can not tell you what most of them are, but what I can say is that I personally plan to go to the martial gate, then eventually the dungeon.” His claw traced a line on the map.
“You should have led with this Royce. I believe it was our job to give them as much time as possible to think.” His eyes blinked out of the hay, moving as if to point towards where Savris was. “Savris said six stops when I got on, this is the fifth.” Zar popped his head out, before nodding to each of them in turn. “I am Zar, this is Favrin.”
“Royce!”
“Septicus and Asche.” Zar continued as if Royce hadn’t interrupted him. “Gnix? I overheard Savris call you that.”
“How’d you… Oh. Yeah, that’s me.”
While he hadn’t said anything at first because they’d seemed like they’d been having too much fun with the whole thing. The small purple from earlier had nervously trotted over at about the time Zar had first commandeered the whole explaining the place thing and Septicus had noticed that another brown, although this one with a tiny horn on her nose and a much lighter coloration than Favrin had replaced him at the spot next to Savris.
“Martial, Psychological, Magical. Administrative, Research, and Exploration. There are six primary gates. I have decided to start an empire.”
Eyes shining, Royce all but snorted at that. To be honest, Septicus was a little disarmed by the sudden non-sequitur as well.
“All right, maybe gang.” Zar looked like he had swallowed something distasteful. “Is a better word for it. Of course I will be the leader as I am the biggest, strongest, and oldest.” He shook his head. “There is no need to respond right away. At the moment my aim is simply for each of us to take a separate gate, gather as much information as possible and then hopefully gather back at a landmark.” He nodded between Favrin and Royce before looking over at them expectantly, “Martial, research, and administrative are taken respectively; if you are interested or simply wish to keep your options open I would ask that you each take one of the unchosen ones.”
“Which one is connected to the library?” Septicus asked.
“Oh, they all are, they are linked to their respective categories as well.”
Err, what? Septicus thought warily. He looked down at the map again. How exactly big was this place.
“It sounds as if there is no one to teach us anything.” Asche frowned, before stating. “Savris is leaving.”
“Yes.” Zar confirmed. “We are intelligent enough to be left entirely unsupervised, at least if Savris is to be believed. Personally I think that there is some other reason, but I simply do not have enough information to figure it out.”
“I still think you should have asked about magic.” Favrin grumbled. “We can breathe fire. Scorch forests, raze mountains!”
“You have said that twice now.” Royce said matter-a-factly. “It’s a bit of a chore.”
“Sorry to interrupt. But what is a mountain?” While he’d been silent for a while now, Septicus wasn’t too sure why Gnix decided to speak up at that particular piece of information.
“It’s like the pile of dulls—”
Royce made a small huff but Favrin simply rolled his eyes at her.
“—ok other dragons we hatched with but made of rock.” He pointed his tail to the giant gear in the distance. “Usually bigger than the giant spinny thing over there.”
“Oh,” Gnix gulped demurely. “I see.”
Favrin nodded at him. Fortunately, as much as he was interested in a conversation about otherworldly mountains, Septicus couldn’t help but feel very relieved when the truck finally began to slow again. The little dragons’ supposed answers to things only seemed to beg him more and with every proceding question, Septicus was growing more and more convinced that—much like Savris had advised—a simple trip to the library would probably give him everything he could have wanted and more after… Septicus hummed thoughtfully to himself as the truck hit one last little bump, then smoothly came to a halt—maybe about a week of very dedicated studying. Well, if he took everything at face value that is.
“First arch, straight ahead.” The back came down with a clunk and from his spot curled up next to the hay; Savris nudged his snout in the direction of a weirdly isolated stone arch.
While he wasn’t too sure when it’d happened, looking back Septicus could see a sharp line of pen-rails where the hatching area supposedly ended. Apparently, he’d missed where it’d actually stopped. Beyond the familiar looking rails were a few rows of what appeared to be truck-docks and large lifts that seemed to raise them up and sometimes down from deep below. It went on for as far as the eye could see, which to be honest, only added to the strange surrealness of where they rather abruptly cut off.
“It’s a desert.” Septicus stated. Which was odd. At first he had thought it was indoors, what with the comfortably warm heat and darkness of what he now realized was not actually a ceiling but simply the literal night sky. Inadvertently, he took a little gasp. Ah, that’s what it was wasn’t it. The place had no stars, and with the distinct lack of a moon it was no wonder he’d thought it indoors. Well, that, and the giant faintly glowing gear in the distance that he was all but certain by now had not grown the least bit larger throughout the entirety of their drive.
Savris chuckled a little. “Now that would be nice.” He pushed Favrin who’d been loitering around the back for some reason grudgingly down out of the truck. “Get along then.”
There was a loud clack, and the ramp was flipped up. As if in a sort of farewell, Favrin gave them a strange salute with his tail over his chest as the truck idly began pulling away. “Ah, right, and Asche! As a bit of advice. They can’t get into the library.”
Huh? Septicus frowned. What did that mean? But by the time he thought to ask it was already too late as the truck had rather quickly disappeared into one of the lifts. Turning back to the desert Zar had also already disappeared, and while Favrin and Royce had been rather ostensibly arguing about something for a while now it suddenly cut off as he caught the tail ends of them entering through the gate. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it.
There was a faint shimmer within the arch and before he knew it, between Asche and him; they were the only ones left on their side.
“Well,” He offered. “We should probably get in there too.”
“They can’t get into the library?” She seemed to mutter. Shaking herself as if a dog might. Some sand fell out of her scales. “What’s that supposed to mean? Oh, right.”
Trotting to catch up, Septicus let her go through a bit earlier than him before taking a breath and doing a little hop into the gate. Disappointingly, it felt like literally nothing. No, he frowned, that wasn’t quite right. It felt like jumping into a puddle. There was a strange wetness around his feet and looking down there was a shallow sheet of blood red liquid that seemed to cover the entirety of the very intricately tiled floor. There was a strange ringing in his ears too. Though, if he angled them just right, he could somewhat make out what was going on. After all, what he was seeing couldn’t possibly be real.
“Oh! There’s another one.” A low voice sounded out. There was a loud clack; that echoed out over the short, torchlit tunnel they appeared to be in.
Five humans stood working over the headless, and slowly bleeding body of Zar. Royce sat with a glassy look in her eye as the only woman in the group casually worked a manacle around her neck. Favrin lay limp on the ground next to her while Gnix stood frozen in front of Asche, eyes locked onto a small wriggling bag. Another loud clack sounded out and Septicus finally realized where it’d come from. The large, leather armored man to his right had finally finished loading his crossbow.
“Been a while since the last seven batch.”