“Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ You make us feel so good ~ so sweet and creamy, rich and dreamy ~ You’re my favorite thing of all ~” Oakairo sang, his voice reverberating throughout Aldritch’s skull, and adding a strange surrealness to the moonlit night.

“What’re you singing, my lord?” Aldritch asked. He was walking through the empty market square with the barrel of chocolate milk held under his left arm. A short distance behind him, Sulika, Derrik, Oladi, Zarud, and Tessa walked and talked amongst each other. They were all fairly drunk, but not enough to be dangerous if they were left alone. He did find it slightly irritating they were following him. He’d planned to return to the docks, maybe even swing by that park he'd found, and drink his chocolate milk in peace. But it wouldn’t waste too much time if he dropped them off at the Fancy Dryad, then went off on his own. There was just one problem…

“Just a little song I came up with to honor our first piece of treasure in the new world- Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ always on my mind ~ You’re cold and frothy, smooth and lofty ~ You’re the best thing I’ve ever found ~” Oakairo sang, slightly louder and more excited on the second verse than he was on the first. “Do you like it?” Oakairo asked, sending a wave of amusement and pride flowing through their bond.

“It’s great, My lord. Your voice is beautiful as always. I’m just not in a ‘singing’ mood right now, and I’d be really grateful if you’d please stop singing.” Aldritch replied, and he was sincere about it too. Oakairo had a wonderful singing voice. Better than any mortal Aldritch had ever heard of, and in centuries past, it made sense that Oakairo would often be visited by people who've traveled thousands of miles just to hear him sing… But even a perfect voice gets old after a while. Especially when most of the songs he’d sing were like this. If his magic resistance wasn’t so high, he’d just silence himself and hoped that would stop it… But then again, he wasn’t even sure that would work. Could their bond be silenced? Thinking on it, the answer was probably ‘no’ since you could still hear your own thoughts while being silenced.

“Not in a ‘singing’ mood? What does that mean? How could you not want to hear me sing?” Oakairo asked, feeling genuinely confused by the request. People loved his voice.

“It means- while I completely understand your enthusiasm- You’re singing about chocolate milk, my lord. Can you see how that might get annoying?” Aldritch asked, suddenly feeling exhausted. He was ready for this day to end so they could go do something more interesting.

“Oh, am I annoying you?” Oakairo asked, a faint note of amusement had crept into his voice- Which sunk Aldritch’s stomach; He shouldn’t have said anything. “I didn’t realize.” Oakairo finished, the ammo Aldritch had just handed him was now fully loaded, and ready to go. “Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ Now I’m filled with delight ~ You’re yummy and tasty, too precious to wastey~”

“For the love of your name, please don’t.”

“Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ You’re the reason I’m alright tonight ~” Oakairo sang, his voice louder than ever. Aldritch let out a long sigh of exasperation and shook his head. He knew better, and he still did it. Should’ve kept his mouth shut, maybe Oakairo would’ve gotten bored after the first two verses… But he wouldn’t stop now that he knew it got on Aldritch’s nerves. Aldritch ignored the song as much as he could for the rest of the trip to the shop. When they walked through the door, they found Faeyra sitting on the shop counter in a purple nightgown with a massive alchemical textbook laying across her lap and a forgotten glass of something sitting beside her. What was even more surprising was the sight of Ralocan; The priest of Sulika’s group, sitting on the floor beside Faeyra’s bare feet. He had a smallish, leather-bound journal sitting on his lap and a charcoal stick in his right hand.

From the movements of his hands, and the concentration on his face, it was clear he was drawing something. But the moment he realized they’d arrived, Ralocan shot to his feet, placed the book and charcoal stick into the small satchel on his side, and hurried to greet them. “Sorry, I got held up with temple business, the high-priest didn’t allow us to leave until thirty minutes ago and I-” he said, bowing apologetically. But Sulika interrupted him before he could finish by placing her hands on his shoulders.

“It’s fine.” She said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s some stuff we need to talk about, do you mind staying a while?”

“I’ll make us some coffee… Smells like some of us need it more than others.” Faeyra said before covering a yawn with the back of her hand.

“Thanks!” Sulika yelled after her. She pointed Ralocan towards the dining room and beckoned the others to follow him while she looked up at Aldritch. “Did you want to come back with us or are you turning in for the night?” She asked, glancing over to watch everyone half-stumble into the back room. “I’m sure Faeyra would make something for you too.”

"That’s tempting.” Aldritch laughed. “But I have enough to drink for the moment.” He said and tapped the barrel he was carrying under his right arm. “You go on, enjoy the night with your friends and teammates. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“You're sure?” She asked, surprised he’d turned down the offer. Was he feeling sick?

“I’m sure. Go on.” He replied and smiled down at her.

“Well, alright then. Goodnight, Aldritch.” She said and turned to walk away- But stopped at the last second and gave him a look full of suspicion. “You don’t have anywhere else to stay. What's the real reason you're leaving?” She asked, turning to face him with her arms crossed beneath her chest.

“Relax, I’ll be back later tonight. When I was wandering earlier, I found a park near the docks. I’d like to go back there for a while, maybe watch the sun rise. It’s been a while since I’ve done that.” He explained, and hoped she’d leave it at that.

Sulika stared at him for a few more moments… Then she nodded, “Alright. Just… Make sure you don’t get into any trouble, alright?” She said with her eyes full of concern.

Aldritch didn’t know why she was so worried about him. There weren’t many things that could pose a threat to him, especially not outside of a dungeon. Was it the alcohol? Was it making her more paranoid than usual? “I give you my word, I currently have no intention of looking for trouble tonight.” He said and wondered if that’d be enough for her. As it turns out, it was. Sulika, who knew how serious dwarves saw promises, smiled at Aldritch and said goodbye. He watched her join the others in the back room, before he turned towards the door.

“Ready?” Oakairo asked, his excitement for what was about to come flooded their bond.

“Definitely.” Aldritch replied. He left the building, but not before casting Lock on the front door. The spell did exactly as its name suggested, and magically sealed any container or door with a lock. Lock was a level zero spell, used practically no mana, and was part of the ‘Universal’ school of magic- so basically anyone could cast it. But it's counter spell was slightly more difficult to use as a first level spell. So, while almost anyone could cast Lock, only a spell caster like Sulika, Ralocan, Oladi, or Faeyra could undo it. Everyone else would just have to wait until the eight-hour duration was up.

With the shop protected for the night, Aldritch turned towards the aerial dock and started walking while looking to the sky. The moon shone brightly tonight, much brighter than Aldritch could remember seeing back home. Without thinking about it, he grabbed the cork plugging the hole at the top of the barrel and pulled it free. He took a quick sniff of the sweet mixture before turning the entire barrel up and pouring chocolate milk directly into his mouth.

“We’ve only got a few hours until people start walking the streets. We should hurry.” Oakairo said impatiently.

Aldritch pulled the barrel away from his lips and replaced the cork. “Mm… Fair point.” he sighed. He was just enjoying the walk; the buildings, though dark, were each beautiful in their own way. And there was just something about taking a moonlit stroll with approximately eleven gallons of chocolate milk that set Aldritch’s heart at ease. “Well, let's move on, then.” He replied and tightened his grip on the barrel. Aldritch slightly bent his knees and- There was a dull *thump* as Aldritch pushed off the ground, leaping through the air with all the grace of a wrecking ball with a broken chain.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Normally, walking from the Fancy Dryad to the dock took around twenty to thirty minutes, depending on the foot-traffic. Aldritch covered that same distance in eleven seconds, and rapidly found himself watching the ground rush up to meet him. “Wyvern’s Retaliation…” Aldritch whispered. His magic thrummed to life, threading its way through the air molecules that surrounded him until every last particle of air within a fifteen-foot radius came under his control. Then it turned on him; the magic pulled the air inwards and wrapped it tightly around Aldritch’s body. Just before Aldritch could hit the ground and do who knew how much damage to the pavement and bedrock beneath- the air beneath his body suddenly pushed upwards, shoving against the ground with enough force to cancel out his downward momentum.

Aldritch landed softly near the center of the aerial dock. He looked around at the now empty dock, and marveled at just how quiet everything was, now that all the workers had gone home for the evening. But that was part of what intrigued him so much. Because it shouldn’t be silent here, not ever. This was, supposedly, the only place on the island that could import and export goods from other islands. And it was all thanks to the holes scattered across the docks… And therein lay his question. If those holes allowed merchants to travel to and from the island, why couldn’t he hear any wind? Did the ward he’d discovered earlier wrap around the entire island? Was it not just to keep people from falling off? If that was the case, why? And why seal it at night?

Aldritch approached one of the many holes scattered across the docks and peered over the edge… “Sulika wasn’t kidding about how high up the island is floating.” Oakairo muttered. Aldritch could see the ocean beneath them, but it was far- far away.

Back when Aldritch was a young lad, the former high priest of Oakairo had journeyed with him to the crown of the world; A mountain so tall, its peak was said to rip any cloud that tried to pass over it. It was a grueling journey that took almost a year to complete, but the pride Aldritch felt when he reached the top- to be one of only twenty-six people to have ever made the journey and lived… was perhaps the most beautiful moment of young Aldritch’s life.

And now, he wasn’t sure if that mountain could reach where Azuris island was floating.

Without hesitation, Aldritch placed his left foot over the opening and leaned forward- Gravity took hold instantly and pulled him down. Wind whipped wildly through his hair, buffeted his skin, and caused his robes to loudly slap against his body. But Aldritch had cast Eye of the Magic Eater and was too busy watching the island’s wards spring to life to care about any of that.

Keeping his feet squarely beneath him. Aldritch once again cast Wyvern’s Retaliation before he landed, allowing him to land without shattering the wards- Three things happened the moment he touched the ward; he felt a spike of energy flow into his body through the soles of his boots, the spot beneath his feet shined with a bright, silver light that became visible even without the aid of Eye of the Magic Eater, and a bell rang loudly in his ears.

Aldritch waited a few seconds to see if anything would happen… But nothing did. The ward didn’t attack him beyond that first spike of energy, which didn’t even do any damage to him- Okay, he would need a new pair of boots now; his turned to slag a few seconds after landing and dust a few seconds after that. But was that all it did? Where were the reflection protocols? The kinetic and magical absorption batteries? At this point, he would’ve accepted a kinetic dispersal program inlaid over the hard ward, at least that would've ensured it could withstand a hit or two before breaking, but they didn’t even have that.

To Aldritch, this ward wasn’t fit for defensive purposes; It was just an overengineered garbage disposal.

He sighed and looked up at the underside of the island as it loomed a few hundred feet overhead; It was truly massive, easily a hundred miles of bedrock and- his eyes widened in surprise. There were holes everywhere. And while some of them might’ve occurred naturally, most of the holes lined up with what Aldritch recognized as a search and pilfer mining pattern. The kind you only employed if you needed a specific mineral, and you needed it now.

Most mines were dug in a specific way and were usually designed to allow for quick closure in the event something happened. For example, collapsing one tunnel to take some pressure off another, more important, tunnel… But the way those holes were dug indicated they either didn’t care about the dangers of a collapsing tunnel- which was about as ridiculous as cutting off your pinky toe because your head hurt. The other option was they didn’t have the time to do it properly, which Aldritch preferred to think of as the truth, at least for now. “Think there’s anything else to see down here or should we head on to the park?” Aldritch asked Oakairo while scanning the island’s bedrock for anything interesting. He caught brief glimpses of mana flowing into some tunnels and out others. While he wondered what was causing it, he pulled the cork out of the barrel and brought the barrel to his lips-

But before he could take in a single drop. Oakairo spoke in a deadly whisper, “I’m more interested in what’s outside the ward.” Aldritch felt a rush of white-hot bloodlust flow downstream from Oakairo. “Do you smell it?”

Aldritch pulled the barrel away from him, re-corked it, then closed his eyes and sucked in a breath; He smelled a lot of things. The delectable chocolate milk inside his barrel, the salty, fishy smell of the ocean far below, the smell of rust on unseen metal- probably inside the holes above, and… A sickly-sweet smell; almost like rotting fruit, only stronger and with the metallic tang of blood mixed in. “Miasma.” Aldritch replied, speaking out loud. “Why would we be able to smell it here?” Aldritch thought it over for a moment- He had an idea. Changing which direction he was looking, Aldritch started looking down, towards the ocean.

“There’s an island. It looks... shattered? Could it have fallen from the sky?” Oakairo asked, directing Aldritch’s attention to a spot on the ocean that was no larger than the eye of a needle. “Aldritch.”

“I know.” Aldritch replied and lifted his left foot- *Crash!* The ward shattered beneath his heel and gravity once again took hold of him. As he fell, curiosity got the better of him and he looked back to Azuris island. The island was also falling. It was falling slowly, more like a bird gliding on the breeze than Aldritch’s meteoric fall. But it was losing altitude… Which changed the moment the ward repaired itself and resealed the island inside its protective bubble. Aldritch watched the island slowly climb back to its previous altitude. “I think I know how the other island broke." Aldritch said while staring at the bottom of Azuris island. "Once we get back, we absolutely cannot break the ward again until I fix that self-repair issue. If that ward is what’s keeping them in the air, then there’s no reason for it to be so slow… Unless the ward stones are overburdened? That could certainly cause it to slow down significantly. Hmm…" Aldritch glanced down and remembered the ocean was rapidly closing the distance between them. “O’ mighty Oakairo; my king and guiding light, let my words reach you on dragon’s wings. With my body as the vessel, bring your judgment down upon these pitiable creatures: Aspect of the Dragon - Wings.” Aldritch whispered, forced to speak the full incantation due to the powerful nature of the spell.

The Aspect of the Dragon series of spells were all eighth level spells and were exclusive to Aldritch’s class ‘Dragon Priest’. The amount of mana required to cast one would kill a normal spell caster, even Aldritch felt slightly drained from using it. But in return, it allowed Aldritch to manifest a single aspect of Oakairo’s power.

In this case, it was his wings.

“Permission granted. My wings are yours.”

Four resplendent, draconic wings manifested behind Aldritch- Two at his shoulders that allowed him to fly, and two just above his waist that allowed for finer aerial control. The scales of each one sparkled like the finest polished silver, while the membranes were illuminated from within by a marvelous golden light. The wings arrested Aldritch’s momentum with a single, powerful flap. While a second one propelled him towards the island. Without the ward interfering with his senses, Aldritch could smell the miasma already working. The ocean smelled of rot, and the smell only grew stronger as he drew closer to the island. Aldritch pulled back the sleeve of his robe, revealing the golden wrist brace that never left his left arm. “Sense any devils?” He asked while lightly rubbing his thumb across the kite-shield symbol engraved into the surface of it.

“No.”

“Understood.” Aldritch replied. He bit down on the tip of his tongue, causing a small amount of blood to pour from the tip- He reached out with his tongue and pressed the blood into the center of the engraving.

The engraving glowed with a faint golden light for a few seconds, before it began to shift. The lines once dug into the golden brace flattened out- then kept expanding outwards. The golden brace shifted and swelled as the blood sank deeper into the gold. Within seconds, the engraving had become actualized; A massive shield that was nearly as tall as Aldritch, and half again as wide was attached to his arm via the wrist brace, however it could be detached if, and when, necessary.

Though the engraving was of a kite shield, the thing on Aldritch’s arm was far too heavy, and much too thick to be called such. It was a tower shield; An eight-inch thick, rectangular slab of gold. A dense titanium plate protruded a few inches from the center of the shield, while lines of silver, cold iron, and tungsten branched out from the center like arcs of electricity. The edges of the shield curved slightly backwards to help disperse strikes by making the surface of the shield nothing but angles. At the very bottom of the shield was a seven-inch long tungsten and cold iron spike.

Though it weighed more than most dragon’s he’d met, and its length meant it would nearly touch the ground every time he moved, Aldritch carried the shield with a single arm. This was Oakairo’s final gift to his most beloved high priest before taking possession of Aldritch’s heart; the total collection of Oakairo’s hoard; melted down, and forged into something Aldritch wished could never break… And then enchanted with enough reinforcement magic to make that wish a certainty.

When it came to devils, the poleaxe Aldritch used to eliminate the devil Bozzen was the preferred method. It was quick, clean, and thanks to the spine of the Soul Dragon he’d killed to forge it, it could destroy the soul of anything it killed. But for anything other than a devil, the poleaxe was overkill.

So… It was time to introduce Iolara to the reason Aldritch's clan were called the 'Blackshields'.