“Tell me about—wait.”
I pause as Fen enters the room pushing a serving cart. The fare on it is simple, as all my servants have been too busy to properly stock the kitchen pantries with anything better. Several platters of sandwiches and pitchers of water. Nothing phenomenal but expertly prepared.
“May we?” Little Water asks.
“It was prepared for you.”
Her tail leaves her lap and waves about. In response, the crowd of estrazi converges on the cart, Fen obligingly stepping out of the way. All the platters save one are removed and passed into the crowd before the cart is pushed alongside Little Water, one of the nameless pouring a tall glass of water before they retreat.
“Good?” I ask as the lady lizard tears into the food.
She pauses, looking up from a half-gobbled sandwich. “It is delicious. The brood cannot grow many vegetables in our underground farms. Food is fuel but food that tastes good is a treat.”
“Your home doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“Duty comes before fun.” She gobbles down the rest of her sandwich. “You had more questions for me.”
“Eager to answer them, aren’t you?”
“I’m hoping that you will be satisfied enough to answer my own again.”
This girl. How quickly she simply accepts being under the power of my whims. I wonder, is that because she’s a creature of logic and it’s the logical course of action? Or is it a result of too much time around powerful people? She did say there were many others who would rule the estrazi before her, leading me to believe she’s spent a long time as the metaphorical runt of the litter.
“Tell me about this being. The one who likes chaos.”
Little Water regards me as she gobbles up another sandwich. I endure the silence, assuming she’s gathering her thoughts while also parsing my own. I’ve always planned to investigate my origins and those of my divine father. The hectic year hasn’t left me much time to do so but here a clue is dropped into my lap. One that suggests that Cosmo is not the most benevolent being.
Which isn’t a surprise, given the first time I met the elemental, he murdered his summoner. However, the implication that he was involved in this world before and left such a lasting impact that a culture considers his mark, a violet gaze, a bad omen, going as far as to pass the knowledge down to even a self-admittedly unimportant heir, is intriguing. Maybe a little unsettling.
“I suppose there is no point in hiding the information,” she eventually says, one arm hugging the tail that’s once again laid across her lap. “If you truly want it, your monsters can simply take it from my head and I’d rather not be on the bad end of the mental affinity. From what I’ve seen, it’s unpleasant.”
“I would never do that,” I snap, my voice hard with conviction.
“…maybe not. I suppose that bodes well for the world.” Her hand idly stokes the thin line of hair along the back of her tail. “We don’t know much about the Outsider. It’s hard to know anything about a being that is not a part of this realm. All we know of it is what its agents say.”
“Have there been many of these agents?”
“That depends on who you ask. Before the…I believe the humans call it the Great War?”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
I straighten up. What in the Abyss does Cosmo have to do with that?! “If you’re talking about the world-spanning war that shattered a continent, destroyed several kingdoms, and displaced many races, yes, we call that the Great War. Are you saying this Outsider caused it?”
“Not directly. The yellow—Lancecain told me you are a summoner.”
Oh, for the love of the saints! Don’t tell me my family is somehow a part of the cause of the worst tragedy in the history of the world too! And how much did Lancecain tell this woman? “I have some knowledge of it.”
“Then you know the dangers of the realms beyond our own. Even if the creatures do not cross over, their influence can be fatal. The Outsider is the worst example. Most of these creatures only turn their attention to our world when a summoner foolishly invites them. The Outsider is different. Our records suggest that the being is far more invested in this realm. It is always watching, always waiting. And for a creature of its power, it doesn’t need an invitation to spread its influence. It finds cracks from which it seeps in. Its voice. Sometimes its power.
“Some say that anything touched by the Outsider is its agent but that is too many to count. Most don’t recognize the influence for what it is, attributing it to sudden flashes of inspiration or revelations induced by ingesting toxins.” She huffs, tail slapping the cushions. “Most of my people’s scholars don’t consider them to be true agents, just unfortunate souls. Agents are those who can directly hear his voice or wield the Outsider’s power.”
“Hear him?”
Little Water’s eyes flick toward Fen. “Those with a sufficiently developed mental affinity and the proper knowledge to reach the Outsider can commune with it. Khan told me what you consider masters. A coefficient of 500 and paltry knowledge. Before the Great War, masters were those with thrice that power and knowledge passed down for generations. And there are those with the fate affinity. No. Your people call it the celestial affinity. We don’t know why but all of them are somehow aware of the Outsider, though he doesn’t deign to speak to all of them.
“Those with a direct connection to the Outsider are his true agents. That thing gives them knowledge, incredible knowledge, but it’s poison. It corrupts their minds, their very beings. Without fail, they always become forces for chaos.”
She hisses. “No. Not chaos. Change. Upheaval. It would be unfair to judge the being as evil, to judge it at all by our standards. It is far beyond them. Unfortunately, change is chaotic, often violently so. And none were more violent than the greatest of its agents, some say the only true one as she wielded a fraction of the being’s power. The Calamity.”
By now, I’m completely enthralled by Little Water’s story. Her pause after mentioning this calamity is nothing short of annoying. It takes quite a bit of restraint to resist grabbing her and shaking the rest free. “There’s no point being hesitant now.” I shift closer, putting aside the errant thought of tracing her scales to see if they’re as smooth as they look. “Finish your story. Who is this Calamity? What did they do?”
“She. Ezossoa, the Righteous Flame. She was the sword of the majesties, the cleanser of horrors and foul acts. Until the Outsider corrupted her. She turned her flames against her family and the battle to subdue her destroyed the home of the majesties, the ripples of the conflict spreading throughout the entire world. That is what that being caused with its reckless interference.”
…saints.
Cosmo’s agent is a fucking dragon?!
And a disgustingly strong one at that. She fought all the other dragons and just subduing her cost them a continent. Wait…
“If this…Ezoso, er—"
“Ezossoa.”
“Yeah. You said they subdued her. I don’t know much about dragons, but I believe they are long-lived.”
“If you mean to ask if she’s still alive, the answer is yes.”
“Why didn’t they kill her?”
“They couldn’t.” Her tail lashes with agitation. “The Outsider’s blessing gave Ezossoa a powerful regenerative ability. They chopped off her limbs, crushed her skull, burned her, flayed her. It didn’t matter.”
That sounds familiar.
“In the end, seven majesties sacrificed their power to imprison Ezossoa. So long as they live, she is trapped. But to ensure none would tamper with their magic, guardians were placed around the cage.”
“The estrazi,” I mutter with a flash of understanding. “That’s why you don’t want humanity traipsing around the north. You’re guarding the fucking dragon that started the Great War. That’s the world-ending threat Khan warned me about, why he stopped me from going there.”
Her eyes narrow. “Yes. My father, he has the celestial affinity. It was his words that doomed Khan, as, supposedly, if my human was not sacrificed, you would have pushed the human army all the way to our warren, encountered Ezossoa, and the world would face another calamity.”