Chapter 352: Alive?
The tunnel’s cave lay deep beneath the earth, yet its ceiling stretched higher than any watchtower. Long, ancient stalagmites stretched down and hovered over the barren chasm. The air was cold, a chill that made one’s breath a wispy smoke. The dark rock beneath Stryg’s bare feet was damp, droplets of icy water dripping from the stalagmites above.
Tauri would have complained of the cold conditions, advising the group to leave the chasm and return to the surface’s warm woodlands. Plum would have wanted to leave as soon as possible, sickened by the mangled lamia corpses Stryg had left behind. Stryg would have opted to leave as well, right after he disemboweled the last living lamia, Agee. If it wasn’t for the strange unseen magic, Agee would have already run from her captors. But she could do no such thing, none of them did. All anyone could do was stare in silence at the draconic skeleton that lay before them.
The bones of the beast were large, larger than the scarlet dragon Tauri and Stryg had encountered at the edge of Glimmer Grove weeks ago. The skeleton occupied the majority of the room, save for a small pond of water at the edge. The pond was larger than most, yet it seemed so tiny next to the skeletal remains. The rib cage alone spanned over 20 ft long and 15 ft tall. The skull was almost half the size and its fangs were as large and sharp as blades.
In life, the creature would have easily swallowed entire centaurs whole, or so Plum thought grimly. She wondered if the dragon would have killed its victims first –perhaps with fire or some other magic– before crushing their bones with its vast array of deadly fangs. She had spent years studying the old tomes and records of every dragon encounter she could find in the libraries of Hollow Shade and Undergrowth. She had even dedicated her final academic project to the endeavor. Yet in all her time spent studying the majestic creatures she had never once imagined seeing one dead.
“Is this real…?” Plum muttered, breaking the silence.
“The Great One was already here before we found the cavern and made it our home,” Agee said quietly.
“Was it alive?” Stryg asked.
Agee shook her head, “The Great One was like this when we found it. My brood never changed a thing in this chamber, we left it as it was.”
“Why?” Tauri asked curiously.
Agee swallowed, “One does not trifle with the ones of old. The Great Ones were here long before any of us and they will be here long after we’re dead.”
For you that won’t be long at all, Stryg thought.
Agee seemed to have read his mind. Her face paled and she tried to slither back, but the Prime Edict held her in place.
Plum, oblivious to the silent exchange, began walking around the cavern’s edges, slowly making her way around the skeleton. “You have no idea what any mage researcher would give for a chance to see this.”
“I can imagine what any of the Named Houses would give to have a dragon’s corpse,” Tauri said dryly.
“A chest of gold?” Stryg asked.
“Try mounds of gold,” Tauri said.
“What?” Stryg asked skeptically.
“She’s right. These remains really are a treasure,” Plum nodded in agreement. “The Great Cities barely have a single dragon scale or two in their possession. They would go to war for something as priceless as this.”
“Just the mere magical knowledge they could glean from studying an entire dragon skeleton,” Tauri shook her head in awe. “We could advance our spellcraft by centuries!”
“And your people would be fools to trifle with the Old One’s body,” Agee said in disgust. “My brood foolishly chose to dwell in this same cavern, albeit on the other end of the tunnels, and still look at the horror that has befallen us. Yet here you both stand, speaking so recklessly of desecrating an Old One's final resting place. Death will be all that finds you.”
Stryg glanced at her, no hint of warmth in his lilac eyes, “I’d be careful of how you speak to my friends.”
Agee scowled at him but said nothing.
“I’ve never been one to believe in the curses of the dead,” Tauri whispered to Stryg, “But after seeing what the dragon did to the Hunters Guild, I’m not sure what to believe anymore. Maybe it's best if we just leave this place.”
“Maybe,” Stryg admitted.
“Hey, Plum,” Tauri called out. “I think we should leave.”
“What? Why?” Plum said distractedly.
“Stryg and I don’t think it's a great idea to stay in a place where a literal dragon died.”
“Are you kidding me!? This place is amazing!” Plum said excitedly. “I could spend months here studying how such an amazing creature died! Well, I’d need some water first, oh, and food. Lots of food. And some clean paper to write on, oh and inks, and—” She suddenly stopped talking.
“Plum?” Stryg glanced at her from across the cavern.
Plum was standing stock-still at the base of the dragon’s shoulders. She took a deep breath and adjusted her glasses, “Uh, guys… I think you both should take a look at this.”
“Did you find something?” Tauri asked and hurried over, carefully walking around the skeletal remains.
Stryg ignored any such reverence and walked straight through the dragon’s ribs. “What happened? What did you find?”
“I think I know what ended this ‘Old One’s’ life,” Plum pointed a shaky finger at one of the large vertebrae between the dragon’s skull and shoulders. A long single crack ran through the vertebra. An old silt-covered hilt protruded from the bone at the fracture’s thickest point.
Plum tore the edge of her sleeve and gently dusted off the hilt with the makeshift handkerchief.
Once the silt had been wiped down the hilt’s design was clear. The grip was made of steel-white wire. The handle had a straight black crossguard and a black pommel to match.
“It’s pretty,” Plum whispered with wide gleaming eyes.
“It’s more than that,” Tauri whispered in awe. “Look at the twin magestones embedded at the bottom of the pommel. See how they gleam in the torchlight?”
Plum narrowed her eyes, “Yeah… They’re shining… together?”
“What does that mean?” Stryg asked curiously.
“I’m not certain, but I think the stones might actually be in perfect synchronization!” Tauri said excitedly. “They’re Parallel Magestones!”
“And what does that exactly mean?” Stryg asked dryly.
“Enchanted items only have one primary magestone to power the entire object, but this one has two. Only the greatest of enchanters could craft something like this and only with magestones of the greatest quality… hypothetically.”
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“Hypothetically?” Stryg raised his eyebrow.
“Most powerful enchanted objects have several magestones, but even they only have one primary magestone. The primary stone empowers the object while the minor stones feed mana into the primary one.”
“Why only one?” Plum asked.
“Trying to use multiple primary stones would create a mana flow dissonance within the object and cause the enchantments to fail,” Tauri explained.
“Okay, that sounds somewhat familiar,” Stryg muttered. He was beginning to somewhat regret skipping his enchantment classes with Cornelius in favor of more practical training with flora or vigor spells.
“The thing is,” Tauri said, “If an enchanter were to succeed in creating two primary magestones in a single object then hypothetically they could double the output of the enchantments. But first, you would need a pair of magestones with actual perfect clarity, without a single iota of impurity, which is basically unheard of.”
“None exist?” Stryg asked.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right,” Plum said. “Like, there has to be at least a few, right? What about the magestones Stryg and his teammates won at the tourney?”
Tauri shook her head, “Even those aren’t perfectly clear. I’ve been an enchanter most of my life, but I’ve never met a brown mage who has ever come in contact with a single perfect magestone, let alone two.”
“Are you really sure these are Parallel Magestones then?” Stryg asked doubtfully.
“Well, not entirely, we’d need a brown archmage to confirm it,” Tauri admitted. “But if they are Parallel, then this weapon is beyond priceless.” She sighed in wonderment. “I can only imagine what other materials were used to forge this… this…? Dagger? Sword?”
“Only one way to find out,” Plum said eagerly. She reached her hand out and grabbed the white hilt. “OW!” she yelled and snapped her hand back.
“What happened?!” Tauri asked.
Stryg narrowed his eyes with worry, “You're bleeding.”
Plum winced and raised her hand. Blood dripped from her fingers. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just, I think I scratched myself on the pommel or something,”
“Hmm,” Tauri stared at the hilt carefully.
The drow’s blood covered the white-steel grip, but the black pommel and magestones were spotless.
“I don’t see anything sharp… Odd.” Tauri slowly reached out and grabbed the hilt, “Yeah, there’s nothing— Ah, motherfucker!” She flinched backwards and screamed in pain. A single deep cut had been carved into the palm of her hand. “Shit, there’s so much blood!”
“Let me see,” Stryg grabbed Tauri’s palm.
Tauri smiled gratefully, “Thanks, I keep forgetting you’re a white mage.”
Stryg leaned down and licked the blood off her palm.
Tauri blushed. “W-what are you doing!?” she said angrily.
“I’m cleaning the wound. There, done.”
“Not helpful,” Tauri frowned and pulled her hand away.
“Fun to watch though,” Plum said with a lecherous grin.
“I should have failed both of you,” Tauri glared at them.
“I was just trying to help,” Stryg said innocently, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“Why don’t you help by grabbing that damn hilt!” Tauri snapped.
“…Fine,” he said reluctantly. He wrapped his fingers around the bloodied hilt and pulled.
Stryg frowned.
“Yeah, now lick your own bloody palm!” Tauri smiled with sweet revenge.
“The blade’s stuck,” he noted, slightly peeved.
“Huh?” Tauri wrinkled her brow.
Stryg placed one foot on the vertebra and leaned backwards, pulling the hilt with all his might. The bone creaked and for a moment it seemed the vertebra would split in two, then with a loud crack the blade slipped out and he stumbled back, longsword in hand.
“There we are,” he smiled triumphantly.
“Are you alright?” Plum pointed at his bloodied fingers.
“Hm? Oh, yeah. It’s not my blood, it’s both of yours,” he said casually.
“Dammit,” Tauri muttered.
Plum stared at the blade with wide eyes, “So this is the sword that slayed a dragon?”
“Yeah, it looks… shitty, ” Stryg frowned.
The sword’s blade was a simple lackluster grey with a chipped and dull edge. There was an engraving at the base of the blade but it was so faded they couldn’t make out what it said.
“You can’t even cut anything with this,” Stryg said disappointedly.
“Who cares? It’s a priceless artifact,” Tauri admonished. “Who knows how long it's been here? It's bound to be in disrepair.”
“…Welp, this is useless,” Stryg shrugged and tossed the blade aside.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” Tauri screamed in a panic. She rushed to the abandoned longsword and picked it up gingerly. “Ah, FUCK!” she screamed in pain and unceremoniously dropped the sword. Her other palm was bleeding from a fresh deep cut.
He winced, “You okay?”
Tauri bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut, “I just… I need a second.”
“I can heal you—”
“—Shut the fuck up, Stryg. Just shut the fuck up.”
Plum ignored their bickering and crouched down next to the fallen sword, examining its design. “Huh, that’s strange…”
The bright red blood staining the hilt began to shiver and sink inwards as if the sword itself were absorbing it.
“Note to self, don’t touch weird swords,” Plum whispered.
Agee suddenly laughed from the tunnel’s entrance. She laughed in a strained high-pitch and abruptly screamed, “Just kill me already!”
“What?” Stryg looked at her suspiciously.
“You already killed my brood and still you stand here desecrating the Old One’s grave right in front of me as if begging the forest to curse us all. Well, I refuse! I'd rather die now than be cursed with you for all eternity!”
“Is that so?” Stryg said quietly and walked towards her.
Agee didn’t flinch or try to run away this time. She glared at him with each step he took. “I am not afraid of you, you fucking animal!”
Stryg said nothing and kept walking towards her.
Agee hissed at him, “I’m glad I killed your tribemates! My only regret is that I couldn't kill them all!”
Stryg stumbled to a halt. His face paled and his eyes widened in shock. “…What did you say?” he whispered.
“You and your tribemates may have escaped us that night, but someday the forest will punish your tribe just as it did my brood,” Agee seethed.
“…My tribemates escaped?”
Agee frowned, “You…? I thought you said you were there that night?”
“I was but…” Stryg shook his head. “What happened that night? Answer me.”
Agee tried to hold her tongue, but she found herself speaking anyway, “After my sister died, my brood and I began slaughtering those vile goblins. We were winning, but then they came. Frost wolves. They jumped down into our cavern and began attacking us. They killed so many of us…”
Agee trembled as she recalled the horrid memory, “There was one wolf, much larger than the rest. It had snow-white hair and icy silver eyes that made your blood run cold just looking at them… S-She was looking for something, I think? When she didn’t find it, she killed the rest of my brood out of anger. Only my brother and I were spared.”
Tauri glanced at Stryg thoughtfully. “Was the wolf looking for something or someone?”
Agee’s eyes widened in realization and she turned to Stryg. “The wolf was looking for you? This was all your fault!?”
“I have nothing to do with frost wolves,” Stryg said adamantly. “Now tell me what happened to the goblins.”
“…I don’t know, they ran away as soon as the wolves came,” Agee said forcefully.
“So they really made it out alive…” Stryg laughed softly. He closed his eyes and bowed his head as his shoulders shook with quiet sobs.
They’re alive… They’re alive…!
“You’re… crying…? Since when do goblins cry?” Agee said in a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
Stryg suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Agee by the shoulder, and bit into her neck. She gasped hoarsely as his jaw clamped down on her windpipe. With one quick motion, he shook his head wildly and ripped out her throat, blood spraying out from her open neck in a wide crimson arc. The lamia’s scarlet eyes rolled up and she collapsed on the ground, dead.
“What was that?!” Plum yelled frantically.
Stryg chewed the warm flesh and swallowed. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced at his companions, “That was for Bril.”
Tauri stared in silent shock at the blood-stained goblin and for the first time in a very long time, she was reminded of who Stryg really was. She had forgotten after all these years of watching him walk through the academy halls, training with Loh, drinking merrily at taverns… She had forgotten after talking to him under a tree on a stormy night in her family’s gardens… But now it was clear as daylight, Vulture Woods was a forest of monsters, and Stryg had always been one of them.