Chapter 17

“Centurion!” A voice called, its owner swooping down from the sky to land before the woman who rested upon a rock, water streaming down her scalp and braid to bounce off her armour.

Bianca looked up, noting the shaded figure who landed at attention before her, the officer tucking away the strange letter and—pictures she’d received in correspondence with her family. “What is it, Dorvil?”

“Ugh—ma’am, it's the village, were um, likely a days march away…”

The centurion frowned, staring at her scout as if he were some sort of idiot, her brow scrunching with scarcely contained annoyance as the man just—stood there, nearly hopping from leg to leg.

“Right… marvellous work spotting the destination we’ve all been aware to be approaching… is it a—commendation you're looking for or… perhaps reprieve from latrine duty given all your upstanding service?”

“Ugh, n-no ma’am, I um… I…”

Bianca sighed, standing as she began to tower over the legionnaire, who took an involuntary step back from his commander. She’d always been taller than those around her, with a few notable exceptions, and though she didn't feel nor offer any sort of anger or hint towards it, the poor lad still started stammering away all the same. God’s, if she only had a handful more who hadn't cut themselves while shaving for the first time three months prior… The Praetor was a bitch… grinning as though she’d been doing Bianca a favour when assigning her a new command rather than allowing her to fill one in need of an officer… Sure, the lot were talented enough kids, but… what she needed were some damned spines to go with their fucking pubes…

“Just spit it out, will you?” She groaned, pushing past the nervous soldier as she whistled, the sharp sound catching the moaning ears of her weary caravan… It had been slow-moving since they left on leave of duty, more so because their progress was ladened with all the supplies now destined for her parent's settlement that her rank could scrounge…

The war effort certainly wouldn't miss the ramshackle tools she’d procured, but with the supposed end in sight seeming to drift further and further away as resistance intensified, she wasn't at all obtuse to the fact aid for such communities was a far-off fairytale… There was even talk of recalling the more able-bodied troops as the conflict stalled, an influx of new executive officials from the homeworld, each looking to stamp their name upon the campaign's success, merely managing to bog the whole operation down… Her own forces had been idle for weeks before her leave was approved, which, given nothing was going on wasn't actually that surprising for anyone. And, she supposed it helped that her expedition had a primary objective standing above her visit with the parents. The news Preator Octavia had received from her old officer, Bianca’s father, startled the woman into action. Their disturbing reports of a potential remnant stronghold beneath the earth, yet undiscovered within territory proclaimed liberated, had been enough reason to send a company to investigate. Which naturally served her purposes just fine given her troops needed as much blooding as she could get them.

All around her, Bianca’s forces marshalled themselves, rousing their fellows and offering those too weak to stand on their own a helping hand. Yes, the speed at which they marched might not have been anything special, but that didn't mean it was at all pleasant for anyone involved, herself included. Of course, she’d never subject her soldiers to anything she herself wouldn't endure, a reality that allowed her to maintain a deathlike grip upon morale, forcing it high in the air by its wrinkled neck. She watched as her contingent filed back into a column, the shadow of soaring scouts above occasionally passing by as they patrolled the surrounding area. After a curt nod, she turned, beginning to stomp down the road while slapping her helmet back on her head, the sound of trumpets blaring behind her, signalling the weary souls at her back that their meagre rest was at an end.

She gestured for the young scout near her to follow, to which he quickly met with her pace, looking every bit as exhausted as his fellows but, not complaining, at least, not to her face. “If you've a reason why you're not back in the air already Dorvil, I’ll hear it before my enthusiasm for company runs its course and I throw you back up there myself.”

“Ah, y-yes, ma’am!” The soldier chirped, seeming to rediscover his purpose. “I, uh, it's just that the—village in question doesent exactly—fit with your earlier reports.”

“It doesn't?”

“N-no, ma’am, not at all…”

“In what way does it differ?” The centurion growled, finding that her patience was beginning to fray. “And by the gods, if your about to tell me there’s an extra outhouse or three-foot earthwork and dyke, you may as well go and grab an extra pack and start marching with the others.”

The boy—swallowed but didn't do as she’d suggested, instead quickly clearing his throat before powering on with admirable determination. “There is what—appears to be a city spire already erected, along with housing, an unreported nearby river that doesn't match the maps, several strange constructs on the ground and—a wall…”

This made the centurion frown, though her legs did not stop moving beneath her, nor did she turn to peer at the clearly nervous man who likely assumed he was about to be punished for a false report.

“Are the sightings—confirmed?”

“Turron and Jaxwell both approached me to bring you the news, ma’am; they are requesting permission for an extended sortie to examine the situation more closely.”

“Granted. Though do tell them that we are still presumed to be approaching a friendly settlement, these are our people out here, regardless of how theyve managed a city-spire, were not about the business of picking a fight. Be polite, figure out what is happening and disengage at the first sign of trouble, I don't want an unnecessary scrum, understood?”

“Crytal, ma’am.”

And with that, the scout pushed off, flapping furiously to gain altitude while Bianca’s deep-set frown settled to a look of mild uncertainty…

Chuck was a simple being. Its mind largely unburned beyond the scope of its given tasks. Yes, occasionally, it was confronted with quandaries of a deeper meaning, who’s, what's, where’s, how’s and why's… yet, such concerns were, at times, troubling; thus, Chuck often made it a habit to divest himself of any meddling notions of an existential nature by purging them from his mind and instead focus upon the things that truly made it happy. Chuck enjoyed flying, soaring through the air as it peered down at the marvellous beauty below, sometimes imparting its master’s will upon its lesser examples without the duty of a free mind, but mostly, just flying and observing. There was so much information to process! From the countless tiny lifeforms that covered the ground in a sea of activity, to the curious ongoings of the creatures his creator liked to call demons. All were wonderfully entertaining to watch from afar, to listen to and keep an eye on while alerting the burgeoning defence fleet of any would be threats encroaching on its territory. Already, its master had a rather sizable force of drones bequeathed to its humble command, primed and prepared to muster and converge at the slightest indication that its primary users were under threat. Already, the glorious defence force had subverted sinister plots of a most heinous kind, silently eliminating predators of the planes that wandered too close in search of an easy meal.

By his estimation, the workload was finally beginning to settle now that a precedent of extreme prejudice was imparted upon the dangerous local fauna, Chuck's forces having collected a rather impressive array of these—soul cards. The strange things were an anomaly for the plucky AI, the concept itself odd in a way that simply wasn't worth giving a passing consideration. It didn't want to try and unravel the secrets of the cosmos, why bother with all that work? Chuck didn't care about magic or habitable planets, though, it supposed visiting another environment could be interesting if only because he’d get the chance to compare it to his own. Perhaps one day, his master would send him out on one such mission to another ecosystem, but frankly, there was so much to do here that… An abrupt blip on his sensors alerted the spydrone to a foreign approach south of his user’s abode, the bogey approaching—no, bogey’s at a not insignificant but also not alarming speed. Hmm, perhaps it was another large bird… those were fun to dogfight with, some of the buggers could be quite crafty in a scrap despite their clear disadvantage in the sky.

Chuck’s camera shifted, zooming in on the expected location of the approaching entities based on his sensor grid, narrowing in on their exact position before, with a surprise, he noted two unfamiliar faces to his scans that no less belonged to individuals of the demon peoples. As two of his primary users were such individuals, Chuck didn't feel any overt sense of hostility towards the pair, though caution was the name of his profession. Data moved at the speed of light itself, transferring from his consciousness to be converted to the written form, beeping upon a distant datapad, which Chuck knew was opened within seconds of arrival. His master took his sweet time observing the video he sent him along with the detailed report of everything he knew regarding the situation, his mind jacking into overdrive in preparation for his orders. When they arrived, Chuck offered them the equivalent of a disinterested mental shrug, tasking one of his drones and a small partition of his mind to keep an eye on the newcomers and alert his greater consciousness if anything worthwhile transpired. His duties complete, the young AI returned to what it enjoyed best, focusing upon a colony of insects that were busily building their hive, marvelling at the minute deviations in detail between itself and the dozens of others he’d catalogued earlier that week.

Tavir raised a brow at his brother who, upon pulling out one of his strange devices, clicked his tongue and peered his way, the now somewhat rugged, battered and bruised young man who was in the process of healing with the aid of magic levelling him with a curious stare.

“There’s two men, eh… I mean, two of your legion's soldiers approaching the town, neither have weapons out and—apparently, both look about ready to drop from the sky…”

“Are they injured?”

“Mmmm, more like tired by the looks of it… weird, but I figured I’d run things by you before I jump to conclusions… this isn't some sort of—raid or the like?”

“No… probably not.” Tavir mused, intently curious about what jumping to a conclusion entailed. Surely nothing good considering the momentary grim set of the young man's jaw, but… “If I had to guess, I’d say our little experiment here has managed to attract some attention.”

“Already?”

The old centurion shrugged, offering the lad a what can you do look as sipped from his drink. “Not really a surprise, the legion has scryers in their employ and, given the reports I dispatched to my daughter and her commander, I’ve been—sort of expecting us to receive company sooner or later…”

“Is this something we need to stick around for?” Arthur asked, cocking his head with a mild air of annoyance.

“If you wouldn't mind… I’d appreciate the backup. With Dianna gone and you, if things do get tense here, we’d be out a significant portion of our effective strength… plus, if there’s an inquisitor about it, things will go much smoother if we get the chance to introduce you. Nothing major, just the short facts and a little tale regarding your capacities as a mage, as we agreed. No reason for them to suspect what's really been going on down here if we all work together.”

“A fair point…” Arthur sighed, running a hand along his temple and feeling at the scruff that had grown not too far below. “I suppose I should head out then, go let Dianna know we're postponing our travels. Doubt she’ll be happy about it… dead set on buying us some thralls as she has been…”

Tavir offered the poor boy a sympathetic look. He was well aware of the lad's stance on such things; many within the imperium held similar views after all, so it wasn't anything new; however, he also knew just how badly his new wife had been wearing him down… Tavir still shivered from time to time, thinking about the night he’d decided to go for an evening soar, only to hear the man’s howls carrying across the land like some dying animal desperate wail… Oh, to be young and vigours again…

“She’ll have her servants soon enough… I'm sure she can wait another day or so…”

“I agree, but it's no less troubling, at least for me… She’s just so damned excited and insistent about it all…”

“Listen lad; our—girls didn't exactly grow up in the wealthier parts of our city; the Cositis's, that is my family, have, within our history, a long line of officers that have made names for themselves and, as such, luxuries such as those in question weren't anything so spectacular for me or my siblings. You’ve got to understand that, for those who had not, now presented an opportunity to indulge and finally reach a semblance of that fantastical standard, it is only natural that she be so thrilled at the prospect. They weren't living in the gutter my boy, but neither were they dining with silver cutlery…”

“Or any form of metal utensils, really.”

Both men turned to eye Cassandra as she pushed through the balcony door, eyeing the pair before her with an expression that waltzed between curiosity and mild irritation.

“No need for the tone dear, I meant no disrespect, I’ve merely been filling the newest addition to our family in upon insights towards his wife's desires.”

“The thralls?”

“Aye, the thralls.”

“Hm, Dia mentioned Arthur not exactly taking to the idea, but also that her husband didn't have enough time to be doing dishes and making beds anymore. I didn't know the affair was still up for debate.”

“It isn't,” Arthur affirmed, sighing as he rose, offering Cassandra a weary hug as he moved towards the stairwell. “sorry to run so soon, but I’ve got to get a warning to the ladies before they get all dressed up.”

“Aye, go on then lad, best not keep them waiting.”

The younger man smiled, thinly but warmly, offering Cassandra an apologetic nod before he turned to depart. The door clicked shut after a few more goodbyes at the entry, Tavir taking another swig of his coffee while his own wife eyed him from above. He shrugged, offering her a lopsided grin. “I do feel for the lad, he’s rather roughed up as of late. if I do say so myself.”

“Dianna assures me that he loves every moment of it.”

“Have you heard his screams?” Tavir laughed, nearly incredulous that anyone would be—completely happy while making such sounds…

“Well, no, but I’ve heard her’s.”

Tavir paused, drink halfway to his lips, eyeing his wife with a speculative gaze, tone approaching the conspiratorial. “Her’s you say?”

“I think the next time you and Arthur are alone and the mood permits it; you should inquire as to exactly what he’s doing to cause my sister to squeal for the gods like a bitch in heat. You might find I—appreciate the effort.”

“Duly noted.” Tavir chuckled, blowing a kiss towards his significant other who in turn eyed the strange inky drink.

“And what’s this now? Another invention our brother has brought us?”

“He calls it coffee, sort of like tea, I suppose, but bitter and pleasantly aromatic… Not certain if it's my favourite but the experience is positively enjoyable for what it is.”

“Smells nice at least… is there more?”

“In the kitchen dear, right by the hearth, in the large pot—yes thats the one, come, take a seat, I’ve news.”

“Oh? Pray tell.”

Tavir smiled gently, watching as his wife took her first sip of the hot beverage and, enjoying the array of emotions that crossed her face. Like him, it was decidedly on the pleased spectrum, though he knew the woman well enough that, like as not, coffee wouldn't be something more than an occasional fancy.

“We’ve visitors from the legion en route.” He began, unhurried in his demeanour despite his wife's sudden surprise.

“Do you think it's Bianca?”

“Could be, but Arthur did say the approaching bal were both males and weary beyond reason.”

“He knows what they look like already? Are they upon our doorstep?”

“Evidently several hours out. Their not moving very fast…”

“It’s at times disturbing how much that boy knows…” Cassandra sighed, rolling her tail up and down her husband's flank, who took it and offered a gentle squeeze. “I swear I haven't been able to get within ear's reach of him without Arthur turning to wave as though he has eyes on the back of his head… it's as much eerie as it is impressive…”

“Ah, the lad’s a talented wizard my dear, I suspect he has his little tricks and secrets… With any luck, our niece and eventual grandchildren will get the chance to pick up on his talents.”

“Oh, don't sell yourself short, lover; you're still young and chipper; we could make another little one if children are what you desire in your life.”

“Don't tempt me, woman,” Tavir growled, eying his wife up and down with—hungering eyes. But, when she laughed, he did as well, both of them sharing a pleasant moment before he sighed, pushing his cup away, standing and stretching his wings. “Maybe after I have that talk with young Arthur, we can revisit that line of thought in due time. For now, I have a pair of watchmen to alert, and well, I suppose I should rouse the settlement entirely so there are no misunderstandings…”

“Want a hand?”

“No, no I’ll be quite alright dear, a little exercise is good to keep the old bones hale and healthy…”

The tower appeared upon the horizon, prompting Bianca to pull out her spyglass and observe it for a time. They couldn't be more than a few hours march by now and she was beginning to feel the fatigue. Behind her, her stoic troops, unwilling to disappoint, had dragged themselves tooth and nail after her, and, finally, she had to admit they deserved a break.

“Korvil!” She roared, not looking away from the strange tower in the distance as she called.

“Yes, Centurion!”

“Have the lads unpack for the night! We’ll get an early start tomorrow so I want cooking fires out and tents ready before the sky’s orange!”

“Aye!”

Her adjunct began barking orders, whipping her troops into action with lashing tongue and leather. She grinned to herself, pleased that they’d made it as far as they had. Good lads, the lot of them, she knew… A moment later, her attention was revisiting the mystery that was the odd settlement that had sprung as though from the earth itself… Now, her parent's strange aversion to explanations and the curious—pictures they sent that had confounded her to no end felt like deliberately vague hints as though wanting to keep everything a surprise. The centurion didn't like surprises, at least not under most circumstances, but… given what she was looking at and that her parents were, again, given their letters, likely fine and even thriving somehow, Bianca honestly didn't know what to think…

She was so lost in thought as the camp materialized all around herself that she very nearly missed the familiar whistle of a rapidly diving bal. Her spyglass darted to the location her senses fixated upon, tracking a small figure that was rapidly approaching. A moment later, she could see her scouts moving to intercept, one of them diving towards the camp while shouting, “Incoming flier!”

Immediately, Bianca could hear the chaotic rattle of soldiers unburdening themselves of unimportant effects, shields and spears rising while legionnaires prepared to take to the sky in formation before the young commander raised her hand, causing her adjunct to relay her silent orders to stand down. The figure was still too far away to see clearly, but it wasn't large enough to be a soldier, maybe a short soldier sure, but definitely too thin; more, they were decidedly alone. Neither of her interceptors seemed too perturbed when they caught the approaching stranger, in fact, even seeming to escort their potential prisoner with—delicacy…

Given that her forward scouts had yet to return, Bianca was on edge, if only a little… No news could be as bad as the duo returning after being bombarded by arrows and javelin, but… she supposed if the settlement were sending an envoy, then… A frown formed on her face as the short bal finally came into focus, an all-too-familiar individual causing her gaze to narrow… No… that girl knew better than to approach an unknown column of legionnaires! Regardless of any suspicions or hopes… Bianca growled as it became clearer that her scouts had captured her little cousin... Bianca finding herself sighing quite audibly, despite herself, even as she slid her telescope closed with a loud clack. She would have words with her aunt—and her parents regarding the oh-so-obvious collapse in discipline she was observing. Words indeed…

“Centurion! The individual we’ve captured appears to be a—”

“My cousin.”

The scout that had moved ahead of his comrade as he escorted their charge gaped at her for a moment, jaw moving as though she desperately wanted to say something before she smartly shut up and saluted, awaiting further orders.

“Return to your duties.” Bianca waved, her arm slothful and deflated.

“Right away, ma’am!”

It was almost infuriatingly comical how quickly the girl darted back towards the sky, rightly deciding that she wanted no part of what was about to transpire, with Bianca herself trying to decide between excitement or raging fury. Perhaps both were appropriate given the circumstances… more if the girl was so eager to enlist as it so appeared, perhaps Bianca would give her a little taste of what real legion life was like. The child was certainly near big enough to bear a spear in formation, perhaps a few more years and she could pass as the appropriate age and sign up if she so desired. Marching with her fellow bal would do the girl well; of that, she was positive. Maybe Bianca would have her spar with some of the new recruits to test if she’d been keeping up in her studies…

Tulla landed beside her saluting scout with a wild and mischievous grin on her face, standing there as though at attention, awaiting Bianca’s perusal while absolutely vibrating with excitement. She locked eyes with the youth who had escorted her cousin, the lad obviously trying to hide a smile, no doubt loving every moment that his heartless commander was exposed as anything else beyond a soulless sadist…

Grunting, she sneered at the soldier, dismissing him with a curt nod of her head. The man didn't so much as lose a modicum of his enthusiasm, saluting again as he smartly took to the sky and departed without a word. Returning her attention to the girl before her, Bianca scowled, observing the little nightmare she remembered, noting how much taller she seemed, how new muscles were already forming on her arms, and that she, for all intents and purposes, looked to have been living in an actual city so far as her hygiene went.

“Brave of you to wander all the way out here to meet a foreign expedition you know little about.” She began, strawberry-red eyebrow raised in expectation.

“Permission to speak Centurion?”

“Granted.”

“I knew who you were practically this morning. I even scouted where I thought you’d camp. You have ninety-seven active soldiers with you, a dozen wounded in the four carts, some from uncle’s old forces, eight donkeys pulling them, each of which is filled with various tools from hammers to scythes, in the first two, seeds, and grain in the third while the fourth is carrying those who’ve fallen on the march. Your scouts have rotated seven times in the past seven hours, and the two soldiers you sent to town are still trying to figure out what's going on.”

Bianca blinked, not needing the recounting to know the disposition, movement and cargo of her own forces. Though, how Tulla knew all that was—disturbing. “You've been stalking us have you?”

“Nope!” The girl grinned, seeming to be madly pleased with herself. “My new dad is a wizard, though, and he’s been teaching me how to do all sorts of cool things! I have a—scrying spell that’s tracked your progress since you came into the region!”

“I see…” Bianca thought on that for a moment, chewing the information over as she stared at her little cousin and contemplated her claims. “Tell me, where exactly does a wizard more talented than my mother just appear in the middle of nowhere to steal my aunt’s heart and claim the family terror's respect?”

“The sky.”

“Hm. And your reason for coming? Assuming there’s more to it than wanting an early jump on seeing me?”

The girl brightened even further, grinning manically as she giggled. “I convinced Dad to make you something better than jerky for dinner. We had a lot of meat left, and, for some reason, Uncle Tavir was positive you’d all march until you made it. I won the bet! Dad didn't want all the food to go to waste, and I felt bad leaving it in storage until tomorrow, so I took it and flew over.”

“This new wizard father of yours let you come this far into the grasslands of a dangerous region all alone?”

“Oh, I'm not alone,” Tulla stated, though the way she did so sounded almost ominous in its confidant assurance.

Bianca looked about herself, peering this way and that, trying to discern what her cousin was talking about before furrowing her brow, unsure of the situation.

“Promise not to freak out if I show you?”

“No.”

“Okay! Umm well, just don't be loud then, and look over there.”

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Following the girl's pointing hand, her cousin released two audible clicks with her tongue before something shimmered into exitance! It was large, like an enormous mechanical spider the size of Bianca herself, only without a face or bulbous rear abdomen; the—thing seemed to peer at her, a single and glowing sinister eye of simmering magma burning into her gaze for but a moment before it disappeared again in a momentary wobble of refracted light, vanishing without a trace… Bianca felt her heart catch, then begin to race as a cold sweat formed on her back, the creature that her cousin had aluded to being present, still unseen as it was, causing the tall grass around itself to shift as it presumably scuttled away, silent in its obscene departure.

“What was that thing, Tulla.” The centurion ground out, half a decision away from sounding the alarm and taking to the sky, family or not.

“It's just part of Dad’s defence force as he calls it, he started going pretty heavy at the whole project once we killed a bunch of Tricen while hunting. There’s like at least four or five more wandering around this part of the grasslands, nothing to worry about, their perfect gentlemen.”

“I don't believe you. What were those things, girl.”

“Golems, I guess.” Tulla shrugged, seemingly already bored with her small inquisition.

Well, if nothing else, that was more of the girl she remembered than what had first arrived, which helped alleviate her concerns that her family had been bewitched by some foul Tricen sorcerer, but…

“Where is your mother? And Aunt and Uncle? Does nobody know where you are?”

“Hmm, I think mom is still beating the shit out of dad with swords… he’s really bad with them, like I can beat him with my tail kind of bad; she knows about you guys coming to visit and, given my friends wandering the area, isn't too worried… Your mom and dad are busy talking with—I think Turron and Jace were their names? Or… Jax? Anyways, they’ve got way too many questions and are refusing to leave until they’ve gotten answers. Pretty sure it's like a tour or something, but I wasn't actually there, just listening in on their conversation with Chuck.” Noting her cousin's raised brow, she continued a moment later with some elaboration. “He’s another golem but really smart! Likes bugs, too.”

“Korvil!” Bianca bellowed, not taking her eyes off the—girl before her.

“Aye, centurion!”

“Prepare the men for flight! Rapid advance! Leave a squad behind to defend the wagons; the rest leave armed! Full Alert!

“Aye!”

The girl before her frowned as Bianca took a step away, mind uncertain but possitive she wasn't about to sleep in a field surrounded by invisible monsters without clearer answers. The horns blared, their assertive call rousing the weariness from her forces as trained bodies flooded themselves with expectant adrenaline, each legionnaire moving with tenacious ease as, one after another, they took to the sky.

“What are you doing?” Tulla inquired, looking a little shocked that things were turning out the way they had.

Bianca just ignored the girl—if a girl was what she truly was seeing before her… expression set in a severe snarl as her wings smashed against the air and she rose, the Centurion pushed hard, leading her troops at a flying double-time, intending to get some clarity, one way or another.

Dianna’s brow twitched with annoyance as her mate faltered, lured into distraction by an unnatural and all too high-pitched ding that arose from the device over his eye. Unfortunately for them, both her patience and his shoulder as her blade came down, at what should have been a speed he could parry, the man’s momentary fumble of focus found him far too late in his attempt to turn the blow. It struck Arthur, earning the foolish man yet another bruise as he winced and grunted with an exasperated keening despite the lacklustre force she’d employed. His brow creased almost instantly, his body instinctively pulling away as to evade a following attack—but Dianna had learned by this point in her life that there were certain concessions she had to allow for, even during training—sparse as they were. Chief among those she’d decided, along with input from Arthur himself, was when his golems alerted him to something odd. Normally, she might have pushed back against such a paltry reason—but, after hearing the first-hand account of what had happened during their little hunt, any news of possible Tricen activity nearby did take a sort of precedent. Thus, she was already standing with patient curiosity, even as Arthur’s hands flew up as if to simultaneously hold her at bay and convey that he needed a rime out, as he liked to call it.

“Hey! Time out, j-just a second, I'm getting a ping from Chuck and…” His words trailed as his countenance shifted from aggrieved and painful annoyance to confused apprehension, but a moment after, the device at his eye rapidly shifted images. Frustratingly, the intriguing little artifact her husband always wore, somehow prevented those looking at it from the wrong angle from seeing anything of worth beyond a garbled and incomprehensible display of tiny lights. Yet, having tested one quite recently herself, Dianna just so happened to know how equally overwhelming and useful the tiny things were when on the other end. After it had been explained how it worked in conjunction with the man’s budding force of metal constructs, Dianna half expected Arthur to report that their daughter had somehow done something immensely stupid—which, as it happened, wasn't entirely too far from the truth… “Uhh… Dianna?” He slowly began, head pivoting towards a distant point beyond his right shoulder. “Should we be concerned that your niece appears to be flying towards us with all her men? Weapons drawn.”

That made Dianna grimace, her gaze drifting in the same direction as she squinted into the sky. Indeed, though small as they were, she could count dozens of small splotches that appeared to pepper the skyline. She cocked her head at the sight, one of which was undeniably familiar given she’d both been in such a formation and seen more of its kind on countless an occasion. Were it not for the fact Arthur had said they’d drawn weapons, she might have even passed it all off, given they already knew who commanded the approaching soldiers. But… he had said weapons were drawn... and, considering for a moment, the unquestionably bizarre things that were transpiring around her as of recent weeks, Dianna suspected the forces young centurion wasn't partial to taking chances. Good, she could respect a bit of honest caution mixed with proper legion belligerence. But, if that upstart bitch thought she was going to waltz onto her land and commandeer her Arthur for questioning, Dianna might just have to take a few limbs to reiterate her claims.

“Worry not love.” She grinned, a malicious gleam in her eye. “You just call for Tulla and step inside, I shall parley with any who choose to visit.”

“Yeah… about that… Tulla appears to be flying with them.”

Exasperated, Dianna sighed as her eyes drifted to her husband, meeting the man’s own as she drawled out her words with vehement weariness. “Of course, she is… why wouldn't she be? Anywhere that girl can possibly find trouble seems to attract her like moths to the flame…”

“I’ve messaged her to come back anyways, but… she’s saying that cousin Bia won't let her; apparently, she’s demanding to speak with whoever’s in charge and… oh, look at that, they're changing course… It seems like they're heading directly this way after all…”

“I can see…”

“You sure you want to be on your own against so many? I mean, I doubt things will actually come to blows… but..."

“Arthur. Please trust I know what Im talking about. I’ve been with the legions for most of my life; compliance is not a phrase they view to possess any form of leeway—however, it is their bread and butter—enforcing it, demanding it, and getting it. If weapons are drawn, it only means they arrive with the intention to take. Now, whether that’s simple information, or—more, that’s admittedly up for debate… Yet, I’d wager they'll lean on the side of excess if our daughters decided to go and start bragging over her new toys.”

“That's... okay, that’s fair…” Arthur murmured, gently tossing his wooden sword as he lightly scratched his growing beard. “Soo—what, you want me to hide?"

“Don't be like that, I realize you’re plenty strong in your own ways. But, again please just listen to me, capable or not, do you really think you could survive an open confrontation with a hundred men and women who’ve seen war?”

“I think I could take em…” The man grinned, earnestly seeming to consider the problem from a darkly militant angle.

“Alive or just dead? More, could you do the former while ensuring you yourself weren't taken by surprise, flanked or, overwhelmed? I know you’ve got the—firepower, as you put it, but Arthur, we both know, at the moment, you're something of a glass cannon.”

“Wait, you guys have that term?”

“Obviously. What else would you call someone with all attack and no defence? Beyond dangerously unbalanced, that is. Besides, we both know you don't need to be observed to be present, nor help if needed.

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll go and watch from the living room or something…”

Dianna could only smile as her mate pouted, reaching out to wrap him in her arms so she could place a kiss on his forehead. “It won't be like this much longer, dear. After—whatever this is, we’ll keep our plans to visit Kaitrice, and from there, we can start solving your soul problem—together.”

Arthur, for his part, merely leaned into the embrace. Dianna knew just how much he enjoyed it when she squashed his face between her breasts, sweaty as they both were. The fact was that the degenerate definitely liked her tits better that way and never willingly fought to leave her clutches when they were wet and filled with her perspiration… was weird but also sort of endearing. After a few heartbeats, she pulled away, Arthur splitting off and presenting her a small, somewhat disappointed wave before unhurriedly walking off toward the house. She actually even shivered a bit as she considered the surprise in store for any not on her husband's white list should they choose to try and break in. Dianna could still—vividly recall the jolt she’d received whilst demanding she be allowed to test it herself. He’d dialled the power back, despite her insistence, and though she hadn't died, it had fucking hurt! Given how powerful she was with the cards in her current soul-deck, it had been a genuine surprise. Regardless of how tough she thought herself to be, that shock hadn't at all been pleasant… god she’d even wet herself… if only a little…

Cracking her neck, Dianna pulled off her clothes, reaching into her soul to pull at the power waiting for her touch… Immediately, a dark vapour began flowing from her flesh, the familiar numbness she could always associate with her natural carapace forming, spreading over her like a midnight wave. She allowed it to fully encase herself, save for her head. A practice that, while not sound for combat, was easily enough rectified when needed and a universal sign that one was prepared for a fight, yes, but not quite committed to prompt or hasty violence.

The swarm of soldiers neared with an admirable speed, quickly resolving themselves into their respective and familiar shapes while Dinna just stood amidst the cleared field of grass, arms folded in patient expectation as she waited. It wasn't long before horns heralded confirmation that they’d spotted her, the short series of blasts letting her know they were to land and secure the area. A slightly problematic, if not expected, eventuality that didn't really phase Dianna in the slightest.

Though the girl was family, and her force supposedly friendly, Dianna had no illusions that, as she was now, she could butcher the approaching century without needing to worry for her life… Those at the rank of gold as she were indeed powerful, but it was within her truly unique deck that such power became something earnestly terrifying to consider… She’d often wondered if a full, battle-hardened century with all their war cards could conquer a floor like the sixth… and, honestly, she had thought they could. However, what Dianna had witnessed beyond that layer had been more than merely monstrous… And in all honestly, competent as the legions were, they weren't monster hunters… Their tactics, their equipment, all of it had been designed to combat entities weaker or on par with themselves, not to mention upon a more numerically considerable scale. Something like the colossi she’d battled amidst the dunes of sand would have devastated such a command, even if they might ultimately be victorious—against a single of hulking brutes, that was.

There was a saying that adventures made poor soldiers, but the truth was that, after all was said and done, soldiers made for little better adventurers when first starting off. Not unless, of course, they somehow smuggled their decks past legion authorities when retiring… A rare circumstance indeed, like as not to get one executed for treason if ever caught. Still, a legionnaire’s ideal card set was simply not within the realm of ideal for delving through the labyrinth’s deeper depths where creativity and malleability were lauded, while rigid tactical discipline absent individual agency was like as not to get one killed just for holding a meaningless line.

“Mom!” Her daughter cheerfully called, waving as the troops flared from their dive, collectively spreading across the field in neatly organized units while two very familiar faces descended to land.

Dianna chose to ignore the child, noting the carefully concealed worry in the girl's face that sold her out towards her involvement in its entity, even if she didn't know exactly how she fit in as of yet. All the same, who her gaze did focus upon was her niece, a tall and not unattractive and muscular woman on the brawny side of things, sharing her side of the family features well enough despite Tavir’s notable influence as her father. Like all her soldiers, she wore true metal armour in the form of a segmented and layered breastplate, stained dark to more appropriately fit the typical soldier's chitinous and combat-ready arms and legs. Her helmet was polished and clasped, its dark-red crest both prominent and intimidating for most of those who saw it, the woman's large wings folding in over her shoulders to offer the appearance of a large dark drape that gently flowed behind her. She bore no weapon in her hands, though, held an armoured grasp upon Tulla’s shoulder, half looking as to protect the girl as to hold her hostage at the same time.

“Neice.” Dianna began, drawing the word out with lethargic detachment. “Why have you decided provoking me, on my own land no less, is anything but a dismal idea?”

“Auntie.” Bianca nodded, her answer curt and crisp as she quickly peered around, taking in all of Arthur’s—general strangeness regardless of his personal presence, with both a critical eye and a sense of uncertainty. “I hear you’re mated now.”

“Happily so.” She smiled, though the expression didn't reach her eyes. “He’s a wonderful lover, though; if it's he who you're looking for, I'm afraid I’ll have to insist your century kindly fuck off first.”

“Not happening. I’ve seen what’s skittering about in the wilds, Dianna… I’ll not be sheltering my forces near him without having assurances. Beyond that, I need to know what’s been going on here. The tower, the golems, these strange—buildings… They need to be catalogued and inspected for—”

“No.” Dianna interrupted, not backing down an inch.

“I'm not asking, Auntie. This is for the good of your safety.”

“My safety?” Dianna scoffed, all but rolling her eyes.

“Are there not Tricen still in the area? Had their dark magic not caught my cousin in its infernal weavings? Please. The tower is one thing, Dianna, but all of this? What being living on this blighted world beyond our foe could dream of such a—metal nightmare as I saw scuttling through the field? This place reeks of strange and abyssal magic…”

“I agree; it is strange magic, more even than you could possibly know.”

“Then you make my point for me, aunt! Let us examine and discern the nature of what is here and ensure the land remains uncorrupted of Tricen taint! Surely any bal sorcerer wouldn't begrudge his imperium its rightful due! Wouldn't impede its officer's duties!”

“You may look if you wish, and only you.” She countered, staring the other woman down without fear. “The rest may head to the tower if they so wish or back to your camp. What exists here is not for the empire’s taking nor its perusal.”

Bianca scowled at her aunt, a hand rising to rest upon the haft of a sheathed officer sabre at her waist. “I know you can count. I know you know better than to impede an imperial officer, senior veteran Dianna. The fact you show open defiance, no, defiance at all to such a simple request just proves to me my worst fears are coming true… Where is this—husband of yours aunt? Is he hiding? Is he afraid to show himself before us absent the capacity to glamour us all at the same time?”

The centurion drew her blade, her officers taking the signal for what it was as the various squadrons beneath her command spread further, two of them breaking off from securing what they could find to flank their leader, who was still holding her small cousin.

“You will meet with him in due time. However, this is your final chance, niece. I will butcher your soldiers until they're little but slop ready for swine should they not stand down.” She accentuated her point by holding out a hand, allowing her sword to manifest in all its terrible and vicious glory. A blackened slab of magical metal, wide as her own body, tall as the woman across from her, stood from hoof to scalp… It seethed with ominous purple flames, their hungry embers descending to burn through the air like abyssal fireflies…

The sudden appearance of the weapon gave Bianca pause, all those present hesitating their sweep to return and surround her, the sense of danger, radiating from their commander’s kin enough to cause a breakdown in command, if only because of the proposed threat.

“A gift seemingly from their dark god itself.” Bianca mused, doing well to hide the flare of uncertainty that Dianna could smell wafting off of her. “Well, if nothing else, I suppose proof of corruption is no longer needed, hm?”

“I know you think you're good niece. And, even now, you might be thinking you can take me, sword or not. But, I promise, you couldn't have won before, and you certainly won't now. I could cut my way through an entire legion, thanks to my husband! Yet far be it from me expecting you to know your place, child. Come, allow your soldiers their lives and test me yourself if needed. I won't take more than an eye for all the trouble you're causing.”

“Centurion!” A soldier called his words as much a warning as they sought assurance from their commander.

For her part, Dianna could pleasingly say that her kin had wonderful instincts. She wanted to order her restrained; she really did. Dianna could see it practically tearing at her every desire as she stood, stoically unmoving from the threat. Yet, a fool the woman was not. Suspicious perhaps, and, in truth, were she in the girl's skin, she’d of found herself hardpressed to back down either… But that wasn't Dianna’s problem, and she’d be damned if she was going to let the legions commandeer whatever they saw fit to claim in the name of the war effort. They all knew how that would turn out…

“Fine!” Dinna sneered, slamming the tip of her blade into the dirt as she advanced, tail bisecting the air behind her with a whistle. “I’ll make the choice for you!”

In an instant, Tulla found herself pushed aside as Bianca readied herself without missing a beat, her voice booming over her junior officer's calls to restrain her as she drew her weapon in a fluid motion. “Stand down! She hasn't any cards of war! Korvil, secure the area while I—”

Dianna spun, activating one of her abilities as her perception slowed around her. Strength and speed redoubling upon themselves in a short boost that saw her moving too fast for the eye to track. Within the span of heartbeats, she identified a man with a senior adjunct whip at his belt. And, recalling her blade to her hand, hurled it right before his feet, putting all the force she dared to muster into the devastating throw! The world exploded as she allowed her touch upon the soul’s power to fade, the earth fountaining in a cascade of steaming earth, the shockwave knocking all those nearby to the ground!

When she turned, Dianna levelled her niece with a cruel smile, basking in the woman’s involuntary flinch, then subsequent expression of disbelieved confusion as her forces were scattered to the dirt. “The next time anyone moves besides yourself, centurion, I will kill them.” Her words rang as she called out to those around her, her voice cold with frosty promise as she held out her arm again, recalling her blade to slam it back home into the earth, advancing on her niece, who was still trying to understand what had happened.

To her credit, the woman nearly dodged Dianna’s fist as it contacted her chest, the blow instead sending the officer reeling to the side as Dianna’s tail swept from behind, catching her off-balance by the right hoof and pulling it from beneath her. Biannca toppled to the ground with an unceremonious oomph, the sudden impact shocking her more than hurting. Dianna didn't let up, arching her tail high for all to see as she whipped it towards her niece’s face, its bladed tip descending like a guillotine that was narrowly avoided as she rolled.

“I'm going easy on you, you know.” Dianna admonished, arms folding at her stomach as she languidly stalked towards her prey, tail stabbing into the earth again and again, faster and faster as Bianca tried to desperately escape! Eventually growling with a seething hiss as Dianna, moving too quick for her, scored a shallow line across the ceturian’s arm, blade bisecting black chiton with the ease of wet parchment.

To her side, a soldier, speer in hand, lunged at Dianna, silent in his attack, aiming for her thigh. Sadly, she wasn't to be found so easily by the boy’s weapon, armour or not, casually stepping aside, not needing any specific card to make it look easy. Her tail flickered, a wet thwack of blood splattering the ground the only initial indication she’d even struck. Then, the soldier staggered backwards, screaming as he clutched his face, holding the spot of his ruined eyeball where Dianna had raked her tail from jaw to forehead. Not deeply enough to kill or brutally maim, but the lad would be carrying an important reminder of this day for the rest of his life, brave as he was.

“A fool.” Dianna spat, hissing at the youth, who she then battered from his feet, tail lashing again to toss him backwards like a discarded fish sent back to the rive. Her voice growing louder as she spun about the crowd watching her. “Your centurion would have you all die for nothing greater than her own superstition!” She barked, scowling at the lot of them. “Do not make me prove to you that my mercy is not without limits!”

She moved, laughing mockingly as she twisted to the side, watching as her niece's sabre flashed beside her before catching the girl's tail as it sought to take her in the shoulder. Slowly increasing the strength of her grip upon its length until her niece cried out in pain! The girl dropped to her knees as Dianna continued to press, feeling the chiton crack and soft flesh beneath compress into the shape of her fingers, Bianca annunciating an almost feral exclamation of agony!

“Mom!”

Dianna swivelled, peering at her daughter who was watching the fight with wide and horrified eyes, expression lost between terror and guilt as she held her hands in carefully balled fists at her side.

“Yes yes… I'm not going to cripple her…” Letting go, Dianna eyed her heavily breathing kin, staring pointedly at the woman as she shivered before her, looking at her aunt as though she were some horrid nightmare-made flesh. “Well then, I thought you were better than me?” She demanded, grinning from ear to ear. “The centurion at such a young age… the hero of our family… so talented and strong… so confidant in your authority and opinion of my life. My husband. Get up dear, let’s not embarrass yourself further…”

“Fuck you…”

Rising, the centurion charged Dianna, blade no longer seeking to wound but kill as it flashed in the light, moving with practiced care, sliding into imagined weaknesses that were as phantoms to an artful form. She danced around her niece for a time, allowing the girl to work out her frustrations, knicking her on occasion as she earned it through frustrated mishaps in her attacks. Once upon the wrist as she overcommitted a swing. Another across the shoulder when Dianna moved within her guard un-molested. She took her time whittling the young officer down, brutally breaking her efforts into pieces as their dance transitioned towards something approaching a lesson.

“Guard higher—higher! Good. Now, why aren't you using your tail? Afraid I’ll catch it again? Scared? Faster, your footwork needs to be faster, stop leading with the feint! Commit, girl, commit!”

Again and again, Dianna cut her, bleeding her of blood and energy until, even augmented by the legion's gifts, Bianca staggered, not collapsing but swaying as though a breeze might just do her in. She let the woman rest as she flicked her tail, cleaning it with the force of movement alone while observing her handiwork. She’d not lost her talent as a drill instructor in the least, admiring just how superficially wounded the girl was, despite leaking blood like a siv.

“Medicus!” She called, not peering around to look for the soldier. “Attend to your centurion!”

“A-aye, ma’am!” A voice returned; Dianna, hearing the rustle of wings as a young man barely big enough to be called as such, landed beside a rasping Bianca, who was all but glaring at her as she rested.

“Now, were I corrupted by some void-touched Tricen spawn as you so seem to believe I am, I’d of not toyed with you for so long but ended things easier than the days I had you as a teenager holding practice sticks. Are we clear on this point yet?”

“I hate you, you know.”

“No, you don't.” Dianna huffed, glaring at the ungrateful runt with narrowed eyes. “You're practically me with less beauty and more discipline and patience. You hate the fact that, even after all these years, you're no closer to knocking me on my ass than you were when we started.

“Bitch.”

“Granted.” Dianna nodded, though they were both starting to smile. Then, leaning in to whisper, she added. “Be a good girl, and perhaps I might just let you in on my little secrets.”