‘The Last Resort’

I flew in close, a lingering touch of my claw traced along the length of a wingless serpent as I passed it by, an unnecessary yet cathartic click triggered the energies left behind. A sudden introduction of immense twisting forces, aimed towards its insides, ripped apart the ninth Greatbeast - finally unveiling the Bastion shrouded by their existence. The Errant still enjoyed their games. The rings of a nearby world had concealed this beast. It was all pointless, no matter neither how many nor how hidden, I would end them all.

Resistance was a fantasy. Some remnant of incarnation had left my patience frayed but recovery was inevitable. This time I prepared properly. A lifeless red planet became my source, once spinning but no longer, its kinetic potential repurposed to serve as my armament. Whatever Errant wandered on and below the surface had been amusingly disintegrated by the sudden stop. The stolen force replaced any need to rely on my Gate-link. Most, yet unusually little, had been lost during the theft. Altica’s empowerment held merit.

Once, it had been the ultimate sign of true mastery, channeling the Gate and burning all but a single feather short of a full wing. Leaving more intact was impossible. None had ever managed the tide with enough finesse for such a feat, myself included - workarounds notwithstanding. I glanced at the results of my own impatience, half a wing lost. An act of conservation beyond my wildest dreams, a shame the only one of my old friends left alive was indifferent to the fact. Regardless, I refused to remain under strength. The price might have been unusually small, but one half had yet to be recovered.

Unfortunately, Altica played games of his own. I longed to visit the core worlds, alas compulsion ran contradictory to desire. My mission remained to guard this region of space but to refrain from interfering with the fledgling world. A peculiar mandate, no doubt meant to further some scheme or other. The forced inaction grated on me, but only in part. My sympathies grew towards the children inhabiting the broken sphere. They died in droves, with none to help or guide them. Altica did little beyond the initial impartment, yet millions cheered when witnessing destruction on a cosmic scale. While weak, their attitude was commendable. Thus my duties of the past mirrored those of the present, my wants sacrificed so worlds would flourish.

My will carried me to the revealed Bastion, an elaborate and ornate fortification in white - adorned with spires, bridges, gates and no doubt mazing pathways full of challenges, traps and bait, hidden and in plain sight. All too familiar, an evocative design, a lure for those who sought power, at first rewarding their progress but eventually mercilessly trapping and slaying them. In time, the lessons were forgotten, and then more came to learn anew. I ignored instincts born from experience and quelled the urge to throw a rock at it. This one was guarded against outside influence, yet at the right angle slinging stone might be feasible.

But no, my priorities were clear. The lures and Errant within were destined as fuel for making my wing whole.

I entered the main and only pathway leading in. The shielding lent no protections to the inside yet left me blind to events without, typical Errant trickery. An orchestrated path towards the heart held no appeal. Instead a pulsing wave of wanton destruction accompanied each of my steps into a new room.

Condensing the fragmented energies fueled the birth of new feathers, slowly but surely advancing the recovery of my burnt wing.

One room disintegrated after another, a systematic obliteration of ever more and more of the Bastion, leaving my intervals of blindness minimal. A third of the structure had now been reduced to dust and the Bastion began fading away - perhaps the mounting loss of coherence proved too much.

Time for a ploy of my own.

Exertions of my will maintained a distant grip on the false treasures I had yet to reach, keeping them here. The Errant were, disappointingly, unwilling to contest my hold, thus relinquishing the impure riches. I had been ready to sacrifice three wings in a theorized trick of contention, untested due to a lack of the sheer skill required - one to connect, two to breach and strike. A shame. Nonetheless, it was only a matter of time before another opportunity arose.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

At least the abandoned bait refilled my strength to full, albeit barely. I continued my vigil, once more approving the cheers of distant children.

Wild-mother

There was a rhythm to it.

This coincidence alleviated her boredom only slightly as she fulfilled the first part of her doomed task. Droll trickery as it was, Ghost-mother timed her efforts in the beats between movement and destruction, switching between hiding her and suppressing everything within the Bastion, and then back again with impeccable timing. These were the hidden windows of opportunity where she spawned toys into her waiting hand and nudged them on a gentle collision course towards the only place of interest, the cracked world. Their languid approach was destined, slowly nearing completion - too fast and the barbaric Ascendant was sure to notice. The target had to be interesting to inspire this much convoluted effort, but she couldn’t see why.

It mattered not, Mother willed it so.

With her task completed, she saw no reason to maintain the distraction and Mother agreed as it faded away. Cloaked by Ghost-mother, she safely observed the greedy Ascendant who so overtly displayed an excessive fondness for collateral damage. Its methods were the same old trite. While the ease with which it slaughtered true Greatbeasts was beyond impressive, there was little else of note about the creature.

Then again, she experienced difficulty finding joy in anything these days.

She would not witness the rampage once the eggs arrived, hatched and began to mature. She would only briefly bask in the chaos of Ghost-mother’s true power. She would never find out what made the world so interesting, nor would she see any of the many plans come to fruition. No, when the time came, she would fight the Ascendant, and in doing so she would die.

Hardly something to look forward to, yet it excited her.

Mother willed it so.

Sneaky-mother:

Excessive – she evaluated events. Three Greatbeasts had hidden the Bastion, with two more for each of the three as another layer of obfuscation. Sneaky-other outdid itself, the new pawn was clearly intended for direct combat, however unlike with others the focus left no weaknesses in any discipline. Even twice layered, the deception only held due to Ghost-mother’s participation.

Annoyance - Mother insisted on entertaining herself now that he had awoken from his slumber, and the rogue seedling together with its surroundings piqued her interests. Thus it fell to Sneaky-mother to arrange everything.

Necessity - the responses to any overt actions proved her suspicions that the champion was all too eager in meting out extreme violence. Not an issue by itself, at least were the artificial ascendant less capable of delivering damage in ways which travelled through to the source. The proficiency alone was telling, and she knew him well. The original, long since presumed dead, had been similar if not quite as powerful. Dangerous, even to her – but manageable.

The second step met more success than the first, yet Mother pouted. There was nothing to be done about it. Soon, Sneaky soothed - one more distraction to delay, then it would be time to play. Yet she demanded a synthesis, the forging of brand new pieces. Feed for Mother’s need, to which Sneaky agreed. The promise made Mother rejoice, withdrawing her voice.

Truth - she ignored a different, immediately effective option. Were she to change her administration of the barrier worlds from surgical suppression to outright warfare, it was likely to guarantee an appearance from the champion, thus leaving the current locus of attention unguarded. Yet such a course might disrupt other plans in motion and that would not do. Per Mother’s parting request, she drafted new designs for insertion when the time came. Afterwards, she relayed precise instructions to Wild-mother and Ghost-mother.

Distraction - five crossed the threshold on a barrier world. They never learn. She orchestrated assassinations for the fools. The wise knew to keep their head down, lest it be cut off.

Idea - she shared her intent with Mother, who met her with vehement agreement. The proposed events were bound to feed her chaotic hunger for some time yet, leaving Sneaky-mother free to act without interference, just the way she preferred it.

The System:

All was remarkably stable. The Errant were nearly docile, focusing their activity almost exclusively on the vicinity of the recently inducted world, all their efforts undone by his experiment. Admittedly the situation there was peculiar, mostly to the benefit of the locals. He saw no need to intervene. What the Errant sought there remained unknown. Surely something, as they expended hastily grown Greatbeasts and bastions in vain - whether resources mattered to them or not, there was always a price. They seemed content to pay it in full.

Nonetheless, the status quo proved ideal, for him. Time was ever in his favor, now more so than ever. As such, he returned to his exercise - following the changes within and reverting them, then they inverted, he converted them back and so on and on the wave went. Each iteration carried more meaning than the last. The well of potential learning seemed bottomless, and he drank deeply of it. How he had missed this.

Soon.