The dilapidated ruins of the false fortress were more than they appeared. Initially, when designed to fool Vrox, the ruins had looked like a weather-worn version of the regular fortress. Agnete’s arrival burned away the enchantments on the walls and floor, leaving them little more than regular stone which promptly burned and turned to slag under her fire. As she continued through the corridors, the burned fortress walls and floors lost connection with the rest of Fortress Al-Mir and reverted to bare dirt and earth.
Anticipating the possibility that the inquisitors might return to investigate the ruins, Arkk had been careful when reclaiming the false fortress. Lesser servants, when claiming territory, automatically reinforced the walls and floors with stone tiles and glowstones. Rooms such as the foundry, private quarters, canteen, and so on, were like layers on top of the base foundations. So he had designed a ‘room’ to go over the top of all the corridors that appeared to be little more than crumbling dirt tunnels.
The further in one went, the less burned and husked they would find the false fortress. Once they reached the point where Agnete had stopped, things would look more or less like a worn-down version of the rest of Fortress Al-Mir. There wasn’t much in the empty rooms, however.
There were only two locations of note. One was a circular brickwork pit, designed to look like the [HEART] chamber. It had no floating maze-like sphere hovering over the pit and, while the real [HEART] chamber didn’t seem to have a bottom, the false version was merely deep. The other room was the teleportation hub. Six ritual circles would take anyone who used them out of the fortress and to a variety of small clearings. Once upon a time, those clearings each contained six more ritual circles leading out to six more clearings. Each of those had more teleportation circles that went to the other clearings, making a big messy maze that didn’t have a proper exit.
The initial plan with the teleportation circles had been to ‘escape’ the inquisitors. Arkk could have led them on a merry chase throughout the false fortress before teleporting himself directly back to the real fortress, leaving behind the impression that he had taken one of the six circles. The inquisitors wouldn’t have known which circle was real—none of them were—and would have been forced to give up the chase, departing with the impression that Arkk had escaped to elsewhere in the Duchy.
That plan had not survived contact with the enemy at the time. In a way, it was good that they had never been discovered. It kept the exact method by which Arkk moved through the Duchy a secret.
Now, all the clearings had been more or less destroyed by wind and weather and animals. The room itself was still there within the false fortress, safe and secure underground.
It was there that Arkk teleported in, appearing in one of the ritual circles but using the free movement within Fortress Al-Mir rather than the circle.
If this dragonoid was loyal to Evestani, he wanted to give away as little as possible. Best to disguise his movements wherever he could.
The dragonoid, at the moment, was stumbling around the dirt tunnels. To further confuse any intruders, the tunnels were a maze. Arkk wasn’t sure if the dragonoid had noticed that they looped back around; she had been wandering in roughly the same two hallways for the last six hours.
Arkk stretched out an arm, extending the oily tendril just a little too far before remembering himself. The doors in the false fortress didn’t open on their own. The whole purpose of the place was to look abandoned. Like how Fortress Al-Mir had been before he took over. Thus, manual doors.
Moving through the maze of the false fortress with a surety of step that no one else would be able to replicate, Arkk reached the looping corridor that the dragonoid was in after only a few minutes. He stared through Vezta’s eyes, noting how perfectly she could see in the dark.
The dragonoid, one hand dragging along the wall, walked away from Arkk. Now that he had a frame of reference in the rest of the fortress, he could tell that she wasn’t actually that large. She stood about a head shorter than he did, maybe about the size of Vezta, and had her massive wings folded up to the point where they were just twin tentpoles sticking up over her shoulders. He had no idea how they fit all shrunk up like that. By all means, she should barely be able to walk through the corridor.
She was a woman. The icy coating over her body didn’t hide her chest and she didn’t appear to wear clothing over the top of the ice. It was a bit odd that she had a chest. Most lizard-like beastmen didn’t have them. Gorgon did. They were the odd species out in that regard. Perhaps because they all came from different worlds?
Arkk lightly cleared Vezta’s throat. It wasn’t quite the same operation as clearing his throat. Her throat just didn’t work the same way. Nevertheless, it made a small noise.
The dragonoid whipped its entire body around so fast that it was almost like she had teleported in place. Her wings spread to fill some of the corridor and the ice-like scales coming off her cheeks glinted in the few dim glowstones that lit the false fortress. Vezta’s eyes let him see her frosty breath. What surprised him most were her eyes.
They were iced over. Milky and dead.
“Who approaches?” the dragonoid called out. Her head turned like she was scanning the hallway yet didn’t stop when she crossed over him. “Announce yourself!”
No wonder it had taken her weeks to find the entrance to the false fortress. Or… how had she found it? Blind, circling high in the air, Arkk couldn’t see how she would have ever noticed.
“I know you’re there. There is something strange about you. The light of the Stars, brought low…” the dragonoid murmured. “Speak! Or has your tongue frozen over in my presence.”
Master, Vezta said from within, the creature awaits a response.
Arkk drew a breath into Vezta’s body, licking her lips. Which was certainly an odd thing to think about—possession really made everything weird.
“You invade my home and make demands?” Arkk said, projecting as haughty of an attitude as possible. Confident and firm. If there was one thing he had learned from his encounter with the gorgon, it was that a little spine went a long way when dealing with a potential hostile. “State your name and purpose and I shall respond in kind.”
The dragonoid took an aggressive step forward.
Arkk held position. There were twenty paces between them. Unless the dragonoid really could teleport, he could move far faster than she could cross even five paces.
But the dragonoid did not continue. She paused and a thoughtful look crossed her features. “Your home? You’re the Keeper of the Heart. Or a minion?”
The dragonoid knew about that, it seemed. Was that a good or bad sign? Either way, Arkk didn’t respond. He waited, watching the dragonoid as she brought up a hand to her mouth. Her hands were… odd. Arkk couldn’t quite tell if they were normally claws or if the ice coating her hands was simply in the shape of taloned claws.
She came to a decision, stepping forward without anger or aggression. She sniffed at the air a few times before her lips parted into a wide smile filled with sharp teeth. “I am Priscilla,” she said, planting a hand on her chest. “The first daughter of the late cryo dragon Lagorn.”
That seemed cordial enough, Vezta said. Perhaps she has traveled to join us?
That would certainly be the optimal outcome. “Arkk. Keeper of Fortress Al-Mir.” If she already knew this was a fortress, there wasn’t much point in hiding it.
“The Keeper. Finally.” She started forward again. The movement and the way she spoke made Arkk tense, unnerved at the eager tone. “The very Stars led me here. They showed me the way when I got lost and—”
The tension vanished in an instant as Priscilla’s foot knocked against a small lump on the uneven floor of the false fortress. Bits of loose rock and stone kicked up into the air, accompanied by a pulsing warning from the [HEART] that his domain was under attack. Priscilla’s arms pinwheeled through the air and her wings spread out, but they knocked against the corridor walls before they could fully extend.
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She fell flat on her face with a grunt.
Arkk stared, eyes wide. Possessing Vezta, he could feel her incredulity.
Priscilla didn’t move. She went so utterly still that Arkk felt a pang of worry for the creature despite their reputation for violence and viciousness.
“Um…”
“Fine! I’m fine.” Using her wings, not her arms, Priscilla pushed herself back to her feet, dusting her front off with her hands as best as a blind person could. “I sought you out for one reason and one reason alone,” she said, trying to carry on as she had before. The haste in her speech felt more like embarrassment than anything natural. “Lesser keepers pop up all the time. Ones blessed by the Stars are few and far between. And likely running out. There may never be one like you again.
“Thus, you require a guide. Someone to keep you on the correct path. I know the old ways. I know the ancient tongues. I know how things are and how things were and how things should be. The world is broken. You might not believe it. You might not see it. But I can see things—”
“You want to revert the Calamity?”
The dragonoid’s icy eyes blinked twice even as she stared slightly off from where Arkk actually stood. “Oh. You… know? Are you…” She paused with a confused frown drawn across her face. “The Stars brought low,” she murmured before her eyes widened. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? I thought the last of you died centuries ago.”
“I’m just a human, but you could say—”
“Human?” Confusion, anticipation, excitement, and even embarrassment all twisted away into a fierce scowl. “A human? Blessed by the Stars? Impossible. While I smell human on you, you don’t smell human.”
Arkk pressed Vezta’s lips together into a thin, worried grimace. He had a feeling that the next few words would determine whether or not this dragonoid would contract with Fortress Al-Mir or try to kill him to leave the power open for another she could guide.
“The one you smell is of the Stars,” Arkk said, speaking firmly. “Vezta. My chief advisor and guide. She lent me her body for this meeting, knowing you would be more hostile to humans than anything else. She is also the one who chose me for the Heart of Fortress Al-Mir.”
Priscilla clenched and unclenched her icy claws as she paced back and forth in the corridor. Arkk watched carefully, ready to teleport the moment she turned her ire in his direction. She mumbled to herself as she moved, grumbling under her breath. “Why a human? There must be others more worthy. They caused this…”
She pivoted on her foot and slammed her fist into the wall. Arkk could feel the tremor from where he stood yet the wall, despite looking like a rough dirt wall, still held tight to its reinforcement magics. The dragonoid didn’t leave a mark. Which Arkk took as a good sign. At least she wouldn’t be as bad to deal with as Agnete.
“You, human,” she said, pointing a clawed finger in the completely wrong direction. Had she gotten turned around during her pacing? “You are possessing the Servant of the Stars? Vacate the body immediately.”
Arkk lightly cleared his throat, making the dragonoid whip around fast enough that her tail thwacked against the wall.
She hissed as she dropped into a combat stance. “An ambush?”
“No, just me still. Are you actually blind?”
“I see what I need to see, human,” she said, spitting the word but slowly straightening to her body into a slightly more relaxed pose. “I see the guiding light of the Stars, I see the burning hearts of my kin, and I see the fear in your heart at my presence. Vacate the servant and allow me to ask questions without your poisoned tongue in the way. Do so and you will have nothing to fear from me until my questions have been answered.”
It could be a trick to get you in a more vulnerable position, Vezta said. Not likely based on what we have seen, I will admit, but the possibility exists.
That was true. It could be a trick. Arkk doubted it. Practically the first thing that the dragonoid had said was that he—or rather, Vezta was of the Stars. She sounded more like an ardent believer in the Light, except replace Light with Stars, than she sounded like an assassin of the Evestani Sultanate.
That didn’t mean that he wasn’t in danger. Frankly, between the Abbey of the Light and the Golden Order, Arkk was sick and tired of religion. Maybe that was an odd thing to say for someone who had literally talked with a god but…
Arkk ended the spell. He reappeared in the real world, blinking a few times at just how dark the corridor was. Red light from his eyes illuminated the corridor a little better than the faint glowstones but it was a far cry from what Vezta could see.
Vezta, at his side, reverted her pose from his wider stance to her usual prim posture with her hands clasped together at her waist.
“Very well,” Arkk said, speaking in his own voice. “Ask your questions.”
“Before that,” Vezta cut in, “allow me to answer your most likely inquiries and save us all a great deal of time. What you heard earlier was true. Arkk is the master of Fortress Al-Mir and he has proved himself to be a most adequate master. Already, we have earned an audience with the Lock and Key. The crystalline portal functions once more, though it is currently locked to the Underworld. Our progress has been stalled by the war but that is a temporary setback. I do not doubt that we will emerge victorious and continue our work.
“And I will suffer no insults toward my Master.”
Priscilla’s sharp teeth clanked as she clamped her jaw shut, cutting off what likely would have been an insulting retort. After seething for a moment, she opened her mouth. “Why? Why a human?”
Vezta turned her head, looking at Arkk with a kind smile. “He was in the right place at the right time.”
“That’s it?” Priscilla asked after a moment of silence. “Luck?”
Rather than respond, Vezta simply turned her head back to the dragonoid, regarding the woman with a cold look. She cocked her head to one side as if trying to decide what to do with her. A fairly useless gesture with someone who was blind if she was trying to communicate something.
“Luck doesn’t make someone worthy, they must desire the power, seize it, and wrest it. There must have been someone else—”
“And who would you suggest? Yourself?” Vezta cocked her head to the other side, stepping forward.
“What?” Priscilla took a step backward. The muscles in her cheeks twinged like she was blinking but her eyes didn’t quite close. “N… No, I—I can’t…”
“No? Are you not worthy?” Vezta said, stepping forward again. “I can see what I need to see as well as you can. I can see the scars. No, not your eyes,” Vezta said as Priscilla brought a hand toward her face. “You’ve done it before. You contracted with a [HEART]. Perhaps had one of my sisters at your side? And where did that get you? Here you are with your eyes dead and your [HEART] cold. I might not have seen your reign, but I can guess. You were corrupted. Delved into the power offered and wanted more, more, and more. Hating humans as you do, you must have turned the power of the [HEART] against them and waged war until…
“Until your [HEART] cracked.”
Priscilla’s head snapped back like she had been struck.
Vezta’s sun-like eyes burned as a smile spread across her face. “Guessed right, did I? Who cracked it? Your enemy’s blade after your incompetence drew them into the center of your fortress? One of your minions in a bout of rebellion? Or… Did you do it yourself, seeking ever more power beyond your own limitations?”
“No! No, it wasn’t like—”
“Arkk may not be the most optimal master. He may not make the best decisions in every situation—”
“Hey…” Arkk said, weakly.
“But he is a loyal and kindhearted master. He does the best he can. That is enough for me. Enough for Fortress Al-Mir. He hasn’t succumbed to corrupting temptations, nor has he engaged in depravity of the sort that would cause such injuries on you.” Vezta sneered, glaring at the blind dragonoid even as the latter stumbled back with practically every word.
Arkk had never seen Vezta like this. She rarely got angry. Rarely raised her voice. Even when she did, it wasn’t… this. Vezta’s fury wasn’t as palpable as someone like Agnete’s might have been. She made it plenty apparent in her lashing tongue.
The wild and vicious choler backed Priscilla over another bump on the uneven floor. This time, she didn’t even try to fight gravity, letting it slam her into the ground. Her blank eyes stared up at the ceiling even as the rest of her body went still.
Vezta stopped her forward assault just a pace away from Priscilla’s prone body. Arkk followed along, frowning as he looked over the two.
“Vezta,” he said, voice soft.
The Servant of the Stars let out a sigh, shaking her head slightly as she looked down on the catatonic dragonoid. “Master, magnanimous as he is, will forgive you for your crimes even if I argue for your execution. But only if you kneel, scrape your face on the ground, and lick the soles of his boots.”
“You don’t need to lick my boots,” Arkk said instantly.
“Kindhearted and loyal,” she said with another sigh.
With a shake of his head, Arkk looked down at the dragonoid. She had hardly moved since falling. Had she hit her head? He was a little concerned despite her recent vitriol against him purely because he was a human. “You… don’t look like you’re in much of a state to discuss things further,” he said. “I’ll be back in—”
“No,” the dragonoid said. Her voice, soft and lofty, came with a mist of icy crystals on her breath. “I understand.” Rolling over, she tried to dig her claws into the dirt floor. The loose rock moved but the actual floor underneath remained static under the magical reinforcement of the fortress.
Arkk tensed, worried she would lash out at him.
She slammed her head into the ground, bowing in front of him. “The Servant is right. I have… wasted my worthiness. All I can do is help you.”
Her words hung in the air, accompanied by a ping through the [HEART]. A link formed. Without accepting payment—much like what Ilya had done when they first found Fortress Al-Mir—Priscilla entered into his employ.
Arkk pressed his lips together, not sure if he was disappointed or not. On one hand, it felt like he had just pressed someone in distress into his service once again. On the other, Priscilla was an old being who claimed to know the old ways. Did that include magic? Or literature? She was blind but if she could give a key to translate the tomes in his library, who knew what he might discover.
“Normally, I would interview you, discover where you can be best used, give a tour of the fortress, and other onboarding tasks. At the moment, you look like you need some time to yourself.” Arkk looked over to Vezta.
Besides that, he had a few questions for the servant.
“I’ll find you a room. We’ll onboard later tonight.”