Irwin had expected to step out into a confined room with guards. Instead, as he stumbled out of the portal, he looked across a massive square bordering a rugged mountain landscape.
Snow-covered trees dotted its glittering white sides and the valleys between. From between the mountains, massive dark red gas plumes wafted up out of what had to be volcanoes. Pillars, statues, and an entire city had been carved out of the nearest mountain straight across while small boats moved along.
The lower levels of the city looked like any other he'd seen, with houses, streets, and more heat signatures and soul resonance waves than he had seen in a single spot. Above it, the city changed, with the buildings turning into something more reminiscent of birdhouses, with small circular openings and lacking roads or paths leading between them. Tiny specs flickered around there, only visible due to the tiny trails of soulforce resonance they left behind.
The top area has to be for the Ganvils, Irwin thought, as he suddenly noticed something else.
A soft tune emanated from the air around him while dim clouds of soulforce drifted everywhere. Some were like cotton clouds, others like thin tendrils of mist. They were mostly pale, steely gray, or dark green, though tendrils of brown hues connected everything.
The entire atmosphere was so overwhelming that Irwin just stood there, staring out. It had been a long time since he'd been on a world, and he had almost forgotten about their resonances. The difference between the Portal Gallery's almost non-existent ambient soulforce and this was staggering. It seemed overwhelming, and he wondered how nobody else could hear this.
Granvox's melody was a deep, almost somber one, heavy in the lower tones with the occasional elated outcry. It matched perfectly with the cold, stoic mountains, and the occasional volcanic eruptions that he knew had to occur.
He barely noticed when Greldo pushed him to the side and away from the portal or when his friend stepped up beside him, looking at the distant city.
"No guards?" Greldo asked as he looked around.
"Look behind you," Ambraz said.
Irwin finally snapped out of it and turned around. The portal was placed against a wall of solid granite with dozens of recesses twenty feet up. Massive Ganvils made up of different types of metals were nestled inside, some without lips and wings.
Are they resting, or… Irwin thought, wondering if this was how dead Ganvils were treated.
"Those are all rank six," Ambraz said, sounding incredibly proud. "If anything enters through there, the last thing they will see is the beauty of Forgelight City before they are turned to dust."
Irwin blinked, noticing that a few of the Ganvils high up had begun smiling. He couldn't help but shudder at the pure malice radiating from some of them.
"Don't worry, they won't harm us," Ambraz said.
A few moments later, everyone had come through the portal, Zender running forward with wide eyes. As he did, Irwin suddenly realized something. Shocked, he turned to Ambraz.
"I thought Yuurindi weren't welcome on worlds?" he hissed.
"Bah! Don't compare us with those superstitious fools," Ambraz snorted. "Besides, unlike the other worlds, there's no way for anyone to hide on Granvox. There are two seventh-rank and an eighth-rank World Anvil here! They can detect anyone coming inside, and as soon as someone tries to move out of their range, they will notice. Moreover, Gynerigon is blocking teleportation, so…"
Irwin noticed Rindiri looking at them in wonder.
"Does that mean-" she began.
"No," Ambraz said, interrupting her. "There's no way Gynerigon will allow your people a safe haven here. Then again… do we need one?"
Rindiri sighed. "I guess not," she said. "But I hope that someday in the future, my people can be seen as something other than some existential threat."
Earila had remained close to her and was looking at her mother quietly. Then she walked forward and surprised Irwin by grabbing her hand and pulling her after Zender. Rindiri's eyes widened slightly, but she let her daughter pull her along.
"Alright, let's get a ride to the city," Ambraz said, sounding excited again.
"We have one arranged," Gla'ring said.
He was perched on Singara's shoulder, the Onyxian standing a short distance away.
Boohm was still eyeing her, seemingly not caring about the beauty of the world around them.
"Good, let's go," Ambraz said.
The group continued to the edge of the balcony to find a staircase leading down. Along the side of the steep drop, they saw another dock, along its width, small barges being loaded.
As Gla'ring and Singara led them down and to the side, Irwin noticed many small Ganvils flying about or riding on shoulders.
"Those are rank-zero's," Ambraz whispered in his ear. "Many won't ever get beyond rank two, and they usually bond with crafters or smiths with no chance of progressing past amethyst rank."
Irwin nodded as he saw a long, metallic boat waiting for them. A head-sized Ganvil was perched on a platform at the back where Irwin would have expected the helm to be.
I wonder what Brazardian will be like, Irwin thought as he walked aboard and sat on one of the benches.
---
"Alright, I'm glad you are all here," Lord Bron said, smiling wearily.
His face was covered in a stubble, and his hair unkempt as he stood before the large square table. Each side had four seats, with only seven filled. Most seats were empty, and would remain like that until they found more people for their council.
Those present were Bronwyn, Daubutim, and Dianor for the different cities and towns; Basil for the guards; Tanya, who had taken up the role of sorcerer and was working on creating a new tower; and Lamia and Trimdir for the smiths. Clarish, who was in charge of the teleporters, stood on the other side of the table.
"Clarish, can you give us some news on how things are going with the scouts?"
The young woman smiled tiredly. She'd been teleporting between the different scout outposts for weeks, gathering information, and it showed.
"The northern portal is stable, but the birds still won't allow us near it. There has been increased activity and one of the scouts says he saw a bird as large as a horse. It was flying over the land, seemingly keeping an eye on the scouts and rangers," she said.
"They didn't show any signs of aggression?" Basil asked.
"Not from what I've heard or seen," Clarish said as she shook her head. "It feels almost…" She hesitated.
"Share your mind," Lord Bron said. "Even slight insights can prove useful."
Clarish pulled her braided hair, then nodded. "I'd say it feels like they are exploring, just like we are. It almost feels like they haven't been here for a long time. Also, they are definitely intelligent, though they don't seem able to talk."
"Both things make sense," Daubutim said in his deep, dull voice. His eyes rippled with red lightning as he focused on Trimdir. "How are the translation cards coming along?"
"Difficult," Trimdir said, crossing his heavily muscular and scarred arms in front of his chest. "Even with Gawarn and Lamia's help, we are having a hard time guaranteeing forceful reforges of potential cards. Topaz rank is still the limit, and even then, we waste too many cards."
"Any idea when one could be ready?" Daubutim asked.
"No. Months at best, years at worst. We need more training and information on smithing. Gawarn never got beyond this point, and his training is-" he hesitated, looking at Lamia, who shrugged.
"It is true. Gawarn wasn't as dedicated as his brother," she said, her voice slightly hoarse. "He only did the bare minimum, and we barely had any cards at the end. We need Irwin to return with more Ganvils, training manuals, or something else."
"She is right," Trimdir said. "We could probably figure all of this out with enough cards and time, but…"
"We don't have either," Lord Bron said as he put his hands on the table. "Basil, how is Greeny doing?"
The towering guard snorted while a soft round of laughter came from the table. Even after they had all met the shard of the Soulgem, most found it hard to call her Greeny just because she was green, especially because the Soulgem wasn't actually male or female. Still, Doomblade's name had managed to stick, and the Soulgem seemed fine with it.
"The Central Registrar is completed, but it will take a long time before she has gathered enough energy to provide the basic facilities she told us about. For that, she will need to start growing because taking chips from her now would be detrimental."
"She hasn't shown any indication that she will contact that Soulgem network and accidentally get everyone on our necks?" Bronwyn asked.
Basil snorted. "No. It's more the opposite. She's told me that if we don't get more defenses ready, heartcarded, and preferably soulcarded, she doesn't think it wise to contact them."
"Good," Lord Bron muttered before turning back to Clarish.
The teleporter had been quietly waiting and continued when he nodded.
"The scouts have managed to cover most of the northern island group, and it proves your initial findings," she said, glancing at Daubutim. "We are near the cold region which you called the north pole, and the islands above us are mostly uninhabitable for anyone not suited for it. Elder Gum'dil'ran has been inspecting them and has requested the entire island chain for his people."
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Lord Bron laughed softly, shaking his head.
"Tell him nothing has changed. He can create a settlement there, but we are not letting anyone officially claim land on Eluahtar until we have found more of the adjacent worlds."
"I thought you would say that, but he didn't seem pleased," Clarish said.
"I'll ask Satiya to talk with him," Lord Bron said. "She should be able to keep him in line."
"Just like she is keeping you in line?" Bronwyn said with a wide grin.
The old noble's face turned slightly red, but he shrugged. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Another round of laughter rang through the room, and this time, it was more genuine.
"The continent to the east is massive, but still no signs of native populations," Clarish said after a bit.
She slowly continued, giving the entire information she had gathered over the weeks before finally falling quiet, her throat dry.
"Alright," Lord Bron said as he sat back down. "It seems we will need to wait for Jort to return with new cards or Irwin. Basil, what was Jort's last status?"
"He has been slowly exploring that Terullian world. There were no signs of anything as powerful as what Irwin and the others encountered, just thousands of Addled making it hard to find safe portals to shardworlds."
"But?" Trimdir asked, leaning forward with narrow eyes.
"But he has been able to gather another few cards," Basil said, taking a stack of cards from his inner pocket and sliding them across the table to Trimdir.
Trimdir and Lamia's faces instantly lit up as they began rifling through the cards. Within moments, they began whispering excitedly. Everyone waited for a while, and finally, Trimdir sighed as he looked up.
"Alright, no odd things. A few good combat cards, some for crafting, and many utility cards. There are another three that could be sideways reforged into translation cards… maybe."
"Good, let's hope you get a lucky break," Lord Bron said.
"Now then… Daubutim, you wanted to speak to us?"
Daubutim nodded as he leaned forward, glancing at his brother, who hadn't spoken a single word yet.
"Based on my calculations, Irwin will have reached Granvox either this week at the latest or in the month before. That means that we have, at best, another year left before he returns. When he does, there is a tiny chance he will either be followed or tracked, meaning we have one year left to shore up our defenses. We have all been able to freely use the time and skills of the stoneshapers, woodshapers, and other carded shapers for over half a year, but… I think it is time to send them back to the Portal Gallery and focus on the other side's defense."
There was a moment of silence, followed by a deep sigh from Lord Bron before he started talking again. "As much as I'd prefer to keep our current growth up, I think you are right."
"I want to request that I be allowed to keep three stone shapers for another month," Dianor said, the first words since he arrived. "Our growth hasn't been comparable to the others, and-"
"If you hadn't focused on that massive castle, you wouldn't be so far behind," Bronwyn said with a snort.
Only his grin showed he wasn't trying to pick a fight. Ever since they had found metal, he had been in contact with Dianor, creating a caravan to move metal to Cesterdon. The swamps were rich in gasses and burnable materials, making smelting easier. Especially with Bronwyn unwilling to whittle down the forests around New Malorin. He and Dianor had been in contact a lot over the recent months, and slowly began forming a bond.
Dianor grimaced. "Easy for you to say. Those Bullfrogs have all but left your pleasant woods, and instead moved to the swamps! Without cover we would be losing people daily."
"I might be willing to make one exception, but not more," Lord Bron said. "So, as long as nobody else needs them…"
The others shook their heads, and he nodded. "Fine. Cesterdon gets to keep three stoneshapers, but make sure to send them to Basil as soon as you are ready."
Their conversation lasted for at least another hour as they talked about less important things, ranging from their stocks, the upcoming winter, and the growth of the smaller towns within their jurisdiction. When they finally stopped and left, Bronwyn and Daubutim walked out into the open, staring across the green flowing hills north of New Degonda.
"Do you think Irwin has arrived yet?" Bronwyn asked, a bit louder this time.
"Yes, earliest a month ago, but definitely now," Daubutim said.
"Sometimes I wish I went with him," Bronwyn said with a grunt. "I'm not cut out for all this talking and arranging. I'd always thought nobles had it easy, but if this is what it's like to be one I'd prefer being a ranger."
"You need to delegate more," Daubutim said, looking up.
His eyes simmered down, the constant lightning rippling inside, slowly vanishing, showing his internal struggles were leaving- for now.
"How's Lisbeth doing?" Bronwyn asked.
Daubutim's face turned slack, his eyes dull for a fraction before the lightning surged back up. He scowled at Bronwyn, who just laughed.
"Sorry, couldn't resist," the burly bearded ranger said. "But seriously, have you asked her yet?"
Daubutim sighed, then nodded. "Three weeks and four days ago," he said.
"Seriously!? Why didn't you send a message!? How did she react?" Bronwyn shouted, his grin changing to a wide, happy smile.
"She was willing," Daubutim said, a wide smile covering his face. "We will wait till Irwin returns, then share our emotions."
Bronwyn sighed as he leaned his elbows on the wall and glanced out.
"I'm happy for you," he said with a grin. "I wonder how she will react when she feels those stubborn emotions of yours."
"I hope she will react well," Daubutim said before sighing. "And how's Celeste doing? Growing well?"
"Like the fields," Bronwyn said proudly. "Only Drum says it's too slow because he wants to play with his sister."
They chatted until Clarish appeared.
"I'm going to have to bring you back now," she said, looking at Bronwyn.
"Alright," the ranger said as he clasped hands with Daubutim.
A few moments later, he and Clarish vanished, leaving Daubutim alone on the wall. Slowly the joy and the smile faded from Daubutim's face as he gazed out across the growing city and the well maintained fields beyond.
The distant troubles of a hidden enemy hunting the Galadin and Smith hunters played through his mind.
"You better bring us the tools to grow stronger, Irwin," he muttered. "Or the years ahead will be hard and painful."
---
"This is one hell of a place," Greldo said, nudging Irwin and pointing out an Ignitzion restaurant on the corner of a street.
"Of course it is," Ambraz said. "The best defense, best cards and the best smiths in the entire Langost branch!"
"Hear, hear," a passing Ganvil shouted, flickering its wings at Ambraz before continuing on its way.
Irwin ignored the antics and looked around as they walked through the city. Compared to the other cities they had been to, the soulforce resonances from the people and items were blinding. Part of this could be due to the fact that they were on a planet, but he wondered. Especially the smiths he saw, and he saw many, all with a Ganvil on their shoulder, seemed to be beacons of soulforce ripples.
Curiously, most of them had ripples with colors matching the Ganvil on their shoulders.
I wonder what my own looks like, he thought.
So far, he hadn't met anyone who could see them as he could, but Ambraz had said that Brazardian would be able to.
High above them, a second city seemed to be just as busy as the one below, with Ganvils flying around. Part of their city seemed to be built atop the buildings of the lower city, but most were carved out of the towering columns and sides of the uneven mountain. Where the other mountainside cities Irwin had seen, the unevenness had been cleared away. Here, it had been left, and instead, the city had been built inside and around it.
They continued through the city until they reached the mountainside and a large staircase leading inside. A large Ganvil sat on each side of the entrance, but unlike those near the exit portal, these seemed far less powerful.
The staircase wasn't nearly as steep as the mountain, but even then, the others began grunting as they began scaling it. Only Irwin, Greldo, and Singara had little trouble. They walked up into the mountain, and as they did, the temperature began growing. They passed platforms with other stairs leading away, but none as wide as this one.
Finally, they reached a spacious chamber lit by glowing braziers whose smoke trickled up through a tapered hole in the ceiling thirty feet above them.
"Alright, all of you follow Singara. She will bring you to Ambraz's servant quarters," Gla'ring said before turning to Irwin. "You can follow us for now, but Brazardian wants to speak to his Progeny alone."
Irwin hesitated, but Greldo waved him on.
"Just go on, mister important. We will make do with what we get!"
Irwin snorted, then shared a look with Rindiri and Greldo, which he hoped would tell them to keep the kids and Boohm from doing anything stupid.
Ten minutes later, they reached a beautifully decorated chamber with statues and stone benches, all engraved with patterns that reminded him of music sheets. The temperature had risen another good bit, and Irwin knew that even Greldo would have been uncomfortable. There were hallways leading away in many directions, each with an odd symbol above the entrance. One of them faintly reminded Irwin of something.
Gla'ring flew towards exactly that one, hovering to a still.
"Alright, just follow this hallway, and you will reach your private quarters," he said. "It has been readied for you, so you should find anything. There will be a rank zero Ganvil waiting for you in case you need anything."
"Thanks," Irwin said, turning to Ambraz, not sure what to say. He finally opted for 'good luck'.
"Don't worry. Better prepare yourself," Ambraz snorted as he flew up, hovering beside Gla'ring. "I am pretty sure Brazardian will want to see you soon."
Irwin nodded, then watched as Ambraz and Gla'ring rushed away up the stairs.
"Well, let's go and see what my private chambers are," Irwin muttered as he turned and walked into the corridor.
The ceiling was pretty high and led into a small area that almost looked like a courtyard. The metal door was flung open, and there were three entrances leading into other rooms.
Stone carvings of trees, plants and other things stood everywhere, or so he thought. As he walked towards the left most entrance to examine it, he led his finger to trace one of the leaves to find it was soft and warm. Stopping to examine them quickly revealed that both the trees as the vines were dull gray, living plants, seemingly rooted into the stone ground.
"Honorable Smith, can I help you?"
Irwin looked up in surprise to see a tiny Ganvil with a seemingly permanent smile sit in a smooth indent high in the wall. His body was made up of a dull gray, slightly darker metal.
"I was just curious about these plants," he said. "Who are you?"
The Ganvil's lips remained curved up. "I am Los'malder," he said, seeming incredibly excited. "Gla'ring told me to assist you with anything you might need. The plants you are looking at are Gneis Trees. They start as small vines and eventually burrow through the rock, finding chambers with… well, finding chambers and then creating these treelike structures."
Irwin nodded. Although he hadn't seen a young Ganvil before, he was pretty sure that Los'malder was one. He leaned forward, looking at the vines that didn't seem to have any start or end but began and ended in the walls.
"They were brought from our homeworld, and are one of the few things we managed to preserve," Los'malder said. "Or so I'm told. I was, ofcourse, not alive at that time."
"I see," Irwin said as he looked around. "So what else is here?"
"A smithy, a bedroom, and a training room," Los'malder said as he flew down. "Let me show you."
The tiny Ganvil flashed forward to the room Irwin had wanted to enter, and wondering what Ambraz was up to, Irwin followed him.
--
"I'll wait for you here," Gla'ring whispered.
Ambraz didn't answer, his full focus on the distant entrance to Brazardian's chambers. He scanned the walls, but even with his greatly increased powers and awareness, he wasn't able to sense the sentries he knew were hiding.
"Am'braz! Stop making me wait," a dull voice boomed from the room ahead of them.
Ambraz focused on Gla'ring. "Wait for me in my chambers. I've got something to discuss with you later."
He could sense from Gla'ring's bubbling soulforce and faltering resonance that he was highly uncomfortable. He couldn't blame him. Being in the presence of any of the Monarchs wasn't always a pleasant thing.
"I'll see you there," Gla'ring said, turning around and rushing away.
Ambraz snorted at the other's fear, then turned and flew into the chamber he knew so well.
Brazardian, his massive progenitor, sat on the central pillar, the resonance of his soulforce like a thick cloud around him, expanding to fill the room and oppressing everyone that entered.
"What happened?" Brazardian boomed.
"It's good to see you too, Zar'dian," Ambraz said, annoyed. He knew how much the ancient, powerful Ganvil hated being reminded of his creation name, which was a good reason to use it.
"I see that whatever happened that kept you from returning for all those years didn't mellow that disagreeable personality of yours," Brazardian rumbled.
The tension began building for a few more moments, and Ambraz suddenly worried if he'd gone too far. Then the pressure of Brazardian's rank seven worldanvil soulforce pulled back, and the Monarch rumbled with laughter.
"For someone only at rank three, you talk big," Brazardian rumbled.
There was a flash of light, and the massive Ganvil turned into a large flying anvil. Its wings made a thundering sound as they kept him in the air.
"Let's go. A few of your siblings are here."
Ambraz didn't respond, hovering where he was.
"What happened to Hal?" he asked.
There was doubt in his mind that his younger sibling had been killed.
"Des and Yirta are in my private chambers. We will speak when we get there," Brazardian said.
Hearing the bubbling anger in his usually calm progenitor's voice, Ambraz stuffed his own anger down and flew forward.
"Fine."