Requiem.

^Sigh.^ It points us at the castle. At the prison where they kept {her}. Worst still, we may have already found our route to reach such a place. That immaculately dressed beast with the wholly profane gaze. Even if they aren’t connected directly to our goal, they’re unlikely to be completely unrelated. Monster with that kind of power and affluence tend to not tolerate outsiders of the same ilk in their territories.

Though that is presupposing that the ones who were keeping Wraithstorm bound are of the same mind as he who initiated the problem to begin with. And yet, when we pull up the more complete version of her stats that purging some of her influence displays.

[Dragon Wraith, “Wraithstorm”; tier 4 monster, major threat]

[G: Vengeance, A: Death, S: Storm, M: Sapient (Soul-hive), O: Draconic, D: Lethe, E: Karma]

There it is. Guided by vengeance, viewed through some kind of sapient mind, with a personal focus on karma. Now, it’s either her mind or her defense that’s corrupting the information about her, and defense seems more likely. Her choices in combat, reactions to taunts and Darling’s revelation seem too comprehensible for her to be operating with some kind of eldritch mind that would damage memory trying to behold it.

{Domain in local area has undergone an abrupt shift.}

“{Oh. Right. That’s why we sent her away.}” We find ourselves alone in an upscale establishment. Isolated from others in a specifically sophisticated area designed to cater to holding exotic beasts. Of course, that smiling thing would find us here.

{Darling tier breakthrough occurred during high intensity situation. Subject later went on to direct our unconscious movement while continuing to extract information from informant. Do not reveal the full extent of capabilities. [Fog of Breathlessness] augmentation for ward breaking undergoing mental prototyping. Transcendent Death title combined with Shrine’s artifact deem capture a temporary inconvenience.}

As soldiers pour into the room and the skylight closes, we marvel at how verbose DM is becoming, “{Please, |King|, don’t make me need to kill all of them.}” The hesitation we spot in a few of those present as they take up positions around the area is quite telling. “{If you belong to that man, we’ll give you and him this chance to walk away. But if we are forced to rise from our stone…

“{We’re going to eat you.}”

We hear a spaced-out series of claps coming from the entrance. As they get louder, {it} reveals himself in the doorway, “Bravo. Bravo. You have plenty of spunk and truly lovely voices.”

We are a bit unsettled by the creature’s use of song to communicate with us. With all of our defenses in place, we don’t feel any influence trying to subvert us and yet, by its mere presence it seems to taint that beauty. The well-disciplined not-reactions from the others tells a story own its own.

We feel half blind and cripple under the suffocating weight of this city, unable to flex our domain and sink into ourselves. Further antagonized by the good advice that DM provided we find ourselves quite irritable under its admiration, “{Why are you here, creature?}”

“^Why are you here, creature?^” It echoes inaudibly with a far away look before refocusing its attention on us. It walks further into the room and begins to pace behind the warriors between us. It takes a full minute and longer before it responds, “I’m here to satisfy my curiosity.”

Acolyte going the extra mile today by keeping our attention focused on our mark while additional eyes open along its spine to observe the rabble more fully, “{Then consider this satiation and leave. Or stay and satisfy our hunger.}” The growl we end on raising the tension in the room considerably, though that ^fear^ reaches a new peak when it laughs in response.

As it drapes itself casually over a nearby armored warrior, we see the war of discipline within the poor thing, and the sparks of madness in the creature’s eyes. With casual and familiar touch, its hands trace out some patterns on the armor, “What do you think I should do, Reginald? Have we done enough to satisfy my curiosity?”

Only because of how focused we are upon the creature do we spot the flash of surprise in the target when it calls out a name and its subtle curl of lip when it noticed. A seemingly gentle poke in the cheek rouses the soldier from their paralysis, “(Master’s curiosity is as boundless as his virtue!)”

There is a breath of pause after that statement. Anticipation coils in the air as many of the soldiers glance at the one under their master’s attention. The cheshire smile on the creature seems to split apart their very face as the edges of their teeth become sharp.

It exhales a soft cloud that raises our hackles from where we’re laying down, its eyes now wholly devoid of anything remotely resembling societal humanity. And then, within the moment between a heartbeat, he changes back.

He undrapes himself from the warrior and claps his hands, “Exactly correct, dear Reginald. I’ve seen enough to whet my appetite for later. Stand down everyone, we’ll be leaving now.” The tension in the room seems to disperse with the crack of noise followed by his joyful tone.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

And yet, with our many eyes and focused upon the scattered few that could hear our words, we do not see relief in those minority of faces. We see resignation and pity.

“Oh, Reginald?”

“(Yes, Master?)”

The snap of noise that follows is far different from the previous. Now with his hands grasping the cheeks of man, his whisper thunders in the room, “You didn’t answer my first question.”

When he releases his hold on the man, the body collapses forward onto the ground, the back of Reginald’s head in the sand while his sightless eyes would see his back, were he not blind in death.

The soldiers and their master file out as the city’s domain shifts back into the familiarity it was before. As he exits and the skylight opens once more, he departs us with a song, “A morsel of food, for the hungry. Until next time. Requiem.”

The light upon us and the heat of the stone seem less now than they did before.

We wait in silence and stillness for a time until we finally permit Fogmaw to breathe upon the corpse. We see the tendrils of smoke blanket and then curl into the still form. Once a saturation point is reached there is a gust of wind and the fog disperses. Ours is not an instrument of force, but one of choice and now we know what a rejection of our offer looks like, “{Find peace, Reginald.}”

Now. What do we do with the corpse of a noble’s soldier that is in our room? Graveskull could probably manage to deal with the metal if we were to actually eat it. But at the same time, we’re not particularly interested in devouring people when we’re not in combat.

There’s something to be said for doing nothing. Our initial path through the sand is quite distinct, and with him being outside of our reach, things could work out well enough. The nice folks here don’t particularly deserve to have to deal with a disposal of that nature.

Hmm. There’s another thought. Oh, and it would be a challenge to even make the attempt. That basically means we have to try, doesn’t it. Well then, first let us see how solid our connection with our |Tranquil Glades| is, even buried under this denser domain.

Fogmaw breathes out once more, this time letting it simply spill from us and pool along the sands. The raised wooden frame outlining this courtyard serves as an embankment for our fog, letting it sit in a contained area and grow denser while requiring less control.

The familiar power of undeath surrounding us now and we believe our particular genre of domain is the only reason we’re able to muscle through expanding our [Elysian Fields] into even this small space. Despite all the truly massive weight crushing against us on all sides, our focus on cooperation and soothing undeath give us an opportunity. That combined with the design of these premium stables, which the attendant explained were built and enchanted in such a way to better serve as a nexus to allow one to soak an occupant in their native biome.

Now that the scene is set, we have to go deeper into [Elysian Fields] and sideways too. Because while there is still that intrinsic connection between us and the land of our rebirth, the way that information and power flows along that connection won’t work for what we want to do.

Thankfully, with the cloud-thick fog in place the corpse is more easily hidden. Especially when a contingent of bees take it upon themselves to fly over to it and somehow manage to drag it to a flat position. Although Darling isn’t present, it would seem that Acolyte and DM can communicate our intent to the young princess. That she’s also adept enough to solve such a problem without more guidance than our vague desire to hide the body is astounding.

With such a murky environment absolutely saturated in their preferred energies, a great many bees end up frolicking in the sands now that there isn’t a lot of extraneous tasks for them to do. Even the princess flies out to enjoy the fresh air and seems to particularly enjoy the patterns in the sands.

Though entranced by the vacation taking place in front of us and keeping specific attention on the few frogs that got out to play alongside the exodus of bees, we redirect ourselves inward when we feel enough of the connection stabilize.

“{Bright Morning to you Axis. How faired your nights?}” Their response is less overwhelming this time, though due to the distance of the link or their own practice at control we’re unsure as, the inundation of all the roots that grasp the mountains, no longer merely drawing upon the arrays but infusing themselves throughout the mountain tops. Discovering all sorts of failed life to give a second chance while full of gratitude towards the [System] for providing a variety roster of plants to cultivate in various arenas and gardens.

Curiosity and elation at the title of World Tree for encompassing the whole realm with the roots or canopy, and the drive to push beyond the mountains to see whole new worlds. Thankful that the pace of expansion is less dizzying than the growth that’s more recently been undertaken.

“{And what of the other lives within your care?}” The blinding speed of movement, of the everyday, is too much information to process. Choosing instead to take up mimicry and making notation through knots and leaves and branches- a tally can be kept. Life is on the rise, and some that fall rise again in peace. Neice’s assistance in keeping said peace and finding homes for the wayward souls has been a boon.

The strain of keeping the bridge growing and easing at the same time as more of Axis is brought forth into the connection. Their talent and purpose at such things far better than our own, “{Any visitors since the humans last passed through?}” There is a pause after we ask this question, which means something likely has happened.

There is a momentous crack and thunder from the very earth itself. Everything living shakes with the noise as a massive weight emerges deep in the bowels of the mountain. After the first crack there is stillness and quiet. It takes days to reach deep enough to learn more about what came. “^Stone. Sleep. Good.^” is all that is said.

Twice more there were a noticeable other. The first was a beast of more flame than flesh. It staked its claim upon the peak, but when it found its fires did not burn the Blooming Death upon that land quickly enough, it made the center of the valley its target. Life fled from its approach while the eyes of the dead kept track of it as it approached the great tree. The beast’s remains are scattered across the caldera now.

The last arrival is a massive serpent which is currently resting in the boughs of the forest. The wounds where its body was gouged and rent initially leaked foul toxins and poisons which served as recompense and nourishment after the prior visitor’s flames had damaged much of the surroundings. The serpent is pleasant company as it soaks in the sun and siphons some vitality from its perches as it meanders through the forest, far above the concerns of the floor and far too large to be challenged by anything in the canopy. Neither flavor seemingly favored, it takes what is present.