“I will smash him.”
The teenage-appearing girl ground her teeth.
Eyes the color of the ocean swirled with its might.
Fangs and sharp teeth gnashed.
Tanned flesh blended with cerulean scales that glittered in the light.
Claws instead of fingernails ground into the wood armrest of the masterwork chair.
Her best master chair-maker had labored over a thousand hours to present it as an inauguration gift for her second and current term as dragon-president of the Nation of Richellia.
“Aren’t you going to wag your claw at me like you were my mother?” she glanced out of the corner of her eye at the woman seated in a second quality, if not as masterfully done, chair.
“Why?” Rayna said. “You’re not launching yourself out the window,” she pointed down to the field, “at that naked… eidolon… are you familiar with them?”
“No, mother kicked me out of her world as soon as I turned 100,” she pouted. “The only other sapients on her world were stupid elves that kept trying to get me drunk and Stone Lords that kept trying to take my scales for their armor.”
“Well, what do you think? Can you take him?”
“Yeah, easy. That gravity trick isn’t strong enough to pull me and I can just drown him in water. He needs to breathe, probably. Don’t worry. I’m not scared of old Americans. Old fat men, soft and squishy, but not tasty. Old meat sucks,” she mumbled, “whatever. Richellia is strong. My people are leveling and loyal. Behold, I have shared my gifts!” she gestured proudly to the youths standing guard around the luxury sky box.
They stood proudly, clad in cerulean blue dragon scale armor, bearing dragon scale shields and weapons made out of dragon teeth, claws and spikes.
“Awfully young looking,” Rayna said mildly.
“I know! It’s better that way! At least that’s what mother and aunt said. If I don’t start early then they can’t get to dragon-blessed.”
“So, what are they now?”
“Dragon-favored, then their class. I have filled multiple roles. A combined-arms strategy as my old soldiers call it. I hope they reach dragon-touched by the time they are adults.”
“They volunteered for this, right? Remember what we talked about?”
The girl waved a hand.
“Everyone knows that willing and loyal subjects are the best,” she scoffed. “You can make more thralls quicker, but then you have to hold the reins tightly and always be on the lookout for sudden and inevitable betrayal. That isn’t how I’ve decided to govern.”
Some of the youths scowled at Rayna at the implied coercion.
“Well, just remember that young people should have a chance to be young. Otherwise they’ll grow up badly. They deserve better than that, don’t you agree?”
“Yes. They rise. I rise. Together we all rise,” she intoned. “Hrrmm… his prancing about displeases me,” she muttered, worrying the missing fang with her forked tongue absentmindedly.
“Cezi? Are you pulling out your teeth?”
There were several missing scales on her arms and face, revealing raw flesh.
And of the claws digging into the once pristine wood, a few were missing.
The ocean dragon in the form of a teen girl froze, clamping her lips shut and subtly shifting her fingers in a failed attempt to conceal.
“What have I told you about impatience?”
“But, Rayna,” she whined, “the stupid old humans told me that I had to give Richellia back.”
“Yes, but those were only words.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t smash them.”
“And now you’re hurting yourself to make more weapons and armor?”
“It’s fine. I’m still young. They’ll grow back fast, see,” she opened wide and revealed that the tip of a small fang was indeed pushing through the gap in her gums.
“Well, you don’t have to worry so much. Just remain cautious and keep an eye out for spies and assassins.”
“We are. I have my dragon eye spell detecting suspicious magic.”
“I know.”
Rayna had seen the giant slitted dragon eye glaring down from the tallest building in the city as she flew in.
“And what do the people think about it?”
“We know that our beloved president cares about us!” one of the dragon-favored snapped.
A teenage boy.
His voice broke.
So embarrassing.
Rayna raised a brow.
“Er… ma’am,” the boy hastily added.
“Thank you, Jayce,” Cezi smiled. “I didn’t tell them to say that,” she added.
“That’s exactly what someone who did would say.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Okay, I believe you.”
“But, when you say it like that it makes me think that you don’t…”
“Such is life,” Rayna regarded the naked eidolon taking a victory lap around the arena.
“He is impressive,” Cezi narrowed her eyes.
“My brother placed him at around Level 50-60 equivalent to a hybrid warrior-mage. Leaning heavily to the warrior side.”
“I know, I’ve read the… um… dosseer thing he sent.”
“His one special trick is a simple gravity field. One centered on himself. He can’t move it around in space or attach it elsewhere and even if it’s of divine origin it comes out like any gravity field. No different from the one the Earth makes.”
“Or yours!” Cezi brightened. “You will smash him… as my champion?” She added the last bit with a shy glance.
“No,” Rayna said flatly. “These eidolons are abiding by the terms of their agreement with my brother.”
“But what if he keeps challenging me? I have to answer! It is un-draconic to ignore a challenge. What will my people think?”
“You’re busy safeguarding them. Tell them about how you just wiped out that fishman colony in the Bermuda Triangle… the old people will get it… speaking of which, I read your report. It was light on details and strangely hostile.”
“Writing is dumb. I don’t see why I can’t just dictate? My assistants assured me that was how you Earthians did things. Your old male presidents didn’t even write their famous speeches. They had whole teams. Why can’t I do the same?”
“Because you wanted to prove yourself better. At least that’s what I remember you told me. Anyways, are you certain there weren’t any really weird things down there? No impossible geometry? Carvings and statues that made you sick to look at? Strange whispers? Phantoms at corner of your eyes?”
“Yes, yes,” Cezi waved her hands, “mother taught me and my nest mates an entire course on eldritch entities. I was wary and neither me nor my mages and clerics detected any infection.”
“Okay, good. Now, as part of news that I have to give in person for operational security. My brother is happy to pass along the knowledge that there are currently no wannabe dragon-slayers anywhere in the Americas. There are a few in Asia, but they are weak and have no knowledge of your existence.”
“Right, they must be dire foes of that wormy ‘dragon’. If he can be even called that,” she scoffed. “What kind of dragon doesn’t have wings?”
“And on a related note, Kayla will be home in time for the New Year.”
“She is well? She couldn’t say much through the spires message system. Only that she lived.”
“My brother says she’s doing well, but that’s Kayla’s story to tell. He wanted me to add that he considers the trial a success and is willing to take on more of your chosen elite on his worldwide Questing stuff, blah, blah, blah… sorry, he kept going on and on and it was kinda going in circles. He also suggested that you get a mutual defense pact with Atlanta. Old America needs to deal with them before coming to you.”
“Yeah, yeah. They’d be my shield. I’ve spoken of this with my military council, but those people don’t want to be friends,” she pouted. “I send them gifts and they smile and send me gifts, but no pacts,” she huffed.
“They might be ready to change their mind now that Old America’s gobbling up settlements all along the Mid-Atlantic and past Appalachia, dipping their toes in the Ohio Valley and up toward the Great Lakes.”
“Hmm, fresh water is important. Shouldn’t someone stop them?”
“Probably, but I don’t really want to fight other people. As long as they keep allowing people that don’t want to stay in the settlements that rejoin, then I can’t in good conscience do anything.”
Cezi leaned over and lowered her voice.
“My old soldiers tell me that I should do a cases belly and get them to attack me first, so that I can attack, but in defense, so it’s okay.”
“Please don’t,” Rayna sighed.
----------------------------------------
Go back a few seasons to the end of summer.
Beach weeks ended and real life reared its ugly head again.
The Cruces family gathered in their old family home for one last night together before going their separate ways until the next reunion.
“Happy Birthday!” Eron said, displaying several treasure chests.
Yes, that was correct.
They looked like genuine pirate-style chests, but that wasn’t the weirdest part. The wood was inscribed with glowing runes. The thick iron lock and lid rattled as though the contents wanted to get out.
“You—” Cal began.
“No! Don’t ruin the surprise,” Eron handed an iron key to Alin. “Listen, so, it’s not all for you, but you get enough for that fancy armor of yours, so, you know, you can really fly,” he whispered.
Well, with that kind of teaser Alin threw caution to the wind and opened the closet chest.
Stones.
Plain-looking gray stones in a variety of shapes and sizes floated up like balloons.
They drifted up to about head high and stayed there.
Alin poked one, sending it slowly into the wall.
Cal caught it with a thought, pulling to him.
The stone felt super smooth, but otherwise what he expected a normal stone to feel like.
“Details?”
“So, I found them in the Gobi Desert. Rune kids cooked up the chests, rush job, but it works. The stones float, obviously, but the crazy thing is that they stay at that height. Watch...” Eron grabbed a large one and jumped on top of it, “see, it doesn’t budge with my weight. If I fly down, however…” the stone and Eron lowered to the floor.
“Yay!” Lera leapt aboard a flat-ish stone. “I’m flying!”
She wasn’t, in fact, flying.
Sure, it looked like it with her fists out and straight-bodied pose, but she remained stationary until Alin nudged her foot before jumping on his own stone.
“Lera, don’t break anything,” Eron said flatly.
Luckily, the stones cleared all the living room and dining room furniture.
Eron hopped off the stone.
“I’ve given samples to every magically-inclined people I trust. They’re going to try to figure out how to use these things. I’m hoping for skyships!”
“I’ll do the same here, thanks,” Cal said.
“Yeah, I thought about Frequency, they do sound waves, maybe that’s the trick. Like those ancient aliens conspiracy theories you used to love. Lifting stones with sound waves,” Eron snorted.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“Which Frequency can do and which we’ve seen, I mean,” he pointed at the stones.
“You can’t count any of the post-spires stuff. There are probably lizard people somewhere out there, but that doesn’t mean that the lizard people weirdo was right. None of that retroactive shit.”
“Anything else I need to know about the stones?”
“Nope. Safe as can be,” Eron demonstrated by breaking the stone in two. “See, no magical explosion and they still work,” he released the two halves to rejoin the floating cluster. “I carved a few of them into small, thin discs for Boy,” he pointed at one of the chest, “they’re in that one. I figured I’d save you a few steps. Oh, and they’re called ‘float stones’.”
“A little lame, no?”
“It’s descriptive and I discovered them so I get to name them.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about? It’s been settled. They are float stones. Now and for—”
“Dad, I’m flying!”
Lera’s words were punctuated by a loud crash.
The breaking of wood and the horrified curse of any parent watching his daughter punch through the living room wall of grandma’s and grandpa’s house came within a split-second of each other.
Eron steeled himself as Lera’s wide eyes watered in realization of what she had just done.
“Uh oh. There’s the quiver lip,” Cal whispered.
Eron knew that he had to be strong.
A firm scolding was in order.
He stepped forward, hoping that his dreadful mien could withstand that look—
“Oh no! Baby, are you okay!” Grandma swept in like a tsunami, pulling Lera from her stone and sweeping her into a tight hug.
Her eyes blazed at her youngest son, daring, challenging.
“Mom, she punched a hole,” Eron groaned.
“Yup, straight through,” Cal said mildly. “You can see the neighbor’s.”
“What was that! Earthquake!” Rayna rushed down the stairs.
That set Lera off.
The girl bawled.
“There, there. It’s okay, baby!” Grandma rubbed her back. “It’s just the wall. The important thing is that you’re not hurt.”
“Mom, that’s the problem! She needs to learn to be careful,” Eron sighed as he looked for allies in the greatest fight of his life, since last week with that shiver of landsharks. “Dad?”
Grandpa ambled over to lay a beneficent hand on Lera’s head.
“I haven’t lived here in years. I consider this house belonging to everyone.”
Two stood against Eron now.
“Rayna?”
The youngest and only sister was perhaps the true owner of the home since she was the one that had lived there the longest in an unbroken stretch of time.
A flinty gaze.
The terror of all misbehaving rangers.
“Lera, did you hurt yourself?”
“No…”
It was a wonder that the word escaped through the ragged breaths and sniffles.
“Okay, that’s all that matters,” Rayna shrugged, “as long as someone, not me, fixes it then we’re good.”
“Boy?” Cal said.
Alin had surreptitiously climbed off his stone and was slowly backing around a corner and into the kitchen.
The two kids had been racing, which contributed to Lera’s zeal in kicking off the wall.
Indeed, she secretly hoped that no one would notice the small, feet-shaped dents.
“Um…”
Eyes turned to Alin.
“Um… I would love to help fix the wall.”
“I did a little wood-working back in the day,” Remy said. “All my stuff is still back at our old house if you want to grab them. I’d do it, but we’re leaving early tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Cal nodded. “I’ll take care of that. I’m heading up there to pick up the Threnosh and a couple of people anyways.”
“I’ve got books too. I boxed them up. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“Bunch of enablers,” Eron muttered. “Fine. That’ll be acceptable. Lera, you and your cousin are going to fix the wall.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she sniffled.
“Okay, just… come here,” he embraced her, “you know that you have to be more careful.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry to me.”
“I’m sorry, Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie Rayna,” she knuckled her eyes. “I won’t do it again.”
“Aww, it’s okay, shh,” Grandma and Grandpa hugged her.
The former sent a quick scowl to Eron.
“There’s a time and place for breaking stuff,” Rayna laid a hand on Lera’s head.
“Hey, Nila?” Eron lowered his voice. “Since, you and Rayna are sorta head babysitters, can you make sure that the witches don’t help with the wall repair.”
“That’s weird, but okay,” Nila said.
“I swear everyone’s a d— an enabler. I’m like, ‘hey guys, please don’t spoil the superstrong child’, they’re like ‘okay’… then proceed straight to the spoiling.”
“My mom always said that my kids would do to me what I did to her,” Nila said.
“Yeah, we heard that all the time from her,” he pointed at Grandma still carrying and rocking Lera.
“It’s a frustrating cycle,” Nila nodded.
----------------------------------------
The Forbidden City.
A palace complex that served Chinese emperors for five hundred years.
Home to opulent imperial temples and gardens.
The modern pre-spires era had no emperors.
There was one now.
The head of the Phoenix Dynasty.
The Phoenix Empress.
She of the string of titles and deeds that took close to fifteen minutes to read.
A fancy state dinner.
Cal had never been to one.
Fortunately, he could just scan the thoughts of those around him to know the proper decorum.
His example could then be followed by the rest of his team seated around the fancy round table.
He used the long speech to appraise the surrounding threats.
There were surprisingly few.
Hidden and disguised assassins were plentiful, but they were strictly for defense against him and his table.
Snipers of many types were concealed on the rooftops overlooking the open air courtyard and behind disguised murder holes in the walls.
Their orders were solely for the protection of the Phoenix Empress and the rest of her dynasty.
No poison.
Neither in the drinks already on their table, nor in the many courses waiting to be served by a legion of servants.
With one exception.
A fledgling phoenix had arranged for a magically-enhanced laxative to find its way into his cup.
“Oh my god, finally. I thought that guy was gonna keep going and going,” Cammi took a moment to whisper a spell on her glasses to prevent the hot soup from fogging them up.
A servant approached Cal with a fancy cup on a fancy tray.
Solid gold from the look of it.
There was a lot of gold and jade in the decoration.
Mostly in statue form.
Phoenixes.
The mythological creature… as far as he knew an actual phoenix hadn’t made an appearance on Earth yet, but he was sure they were out there somewhere.
And of the Phoenix Empress and her brother the Phoenix Prince.
Richly embroidered banners told the deeds of their triumphs.
All true with only minor embellishments from what he had picked out of the tangled streams of memory.
Howard sniffed, raising a brow at the cup.
“Thank you,” Cal took it and took a moment to neutralize the laxative before sipping.
“Is that going to be an issue for us?” Hanna said.
The tall woman sat straight-backed and struggled to keep from scowling at a few specific people seated at other tables.
The Sword of Freedom could see the chains of slavery that bound the enslaved to their so-called masters.
Slavery wasn’t legal in the Phoenix Empire, but that had never stopped the rich and powerful.
It was why she had agreed to come.
They both knew that her presence would prove to be a provocation, but not an entirely unwelcome one based on Cal’s scouting.
The hungry, lecherous gazes only deepened their graves.
Cherry, the gabunan, welcomed the looks, though she kept her charms passive. She wasn’t the only supernatural seductress in the halls of the forbidden city and predators didn’t like encroachment on their territories. She was there to be provocative, but subtly. An implied challenge, not an open one.
“Stop that!” Ginessa hissed.
Cherry batted her eyes and tossed her luscious mane of silvery hair at an older man seated at another table.
“His wife is right next to him!”
“They don’t love each other.” Cherry’s laugh was like a musical instrument. Her voice lowered, taking on an edge. “He’s a bad one.”
Cal regarded the old man, a mid-level army officer in the days before the spires, now a general. He didn’t much care about the scumbag’s eventual fate.
A finger tapped his shoulder.
“Um… Cal?”
“Yeah, Rupert?”
“That lady keeps looking at me and I think she’s trying to do magic.”
“I see her.”
She was quite attractive.
Shiny black hair, fair complexion, button nose.
The perfect representation of beauty in the region.
It was an illusion.
Her true self was even more attractive if one didn’t mind fox ears and a handful of fox tails. Not to mention the risk of death by sex.
“Remember what we talked about? On what to stay away from? Death by snu snu.”
Rupert’s eyes widened.
“At least we know the anti-charm items are working.”
“That’s what I love about working for you, boss,” Howard smirked, “always prepared.”
The feast proceeded over a dozen courses without issue aside from his bowl of spicy fish head soup having about a bottle of chili powder added free of charge.
Howard wrinkled his nose and fought off a sneeze.
“Someone’s out to get you.”
“I prefer this sort of clandestine warfare over the usual,” he finished the entire bowl, neutralizing the spice as he ate.
The devious enemy agent was surely vexed by the ineffectiveness of her stratagems.
“They give you no face,” Bei’s grandmother murmured.
“We don’t care about that, Grandmother,” Bei said lightly as she exchanged challenging glares with several other young cultivators at the other tables.
Bei was a few months shy of 17.
Grandmother had insisted when he had asked for volunteers.
So, it was the two of them and four other cultivators.
“No challenge fights,” he sighed as he rose.
The last course had been served and there was an opening before the dessert courses and for the entertainers to set up their performances.
He made his way from the center of the courtyard.
For some reason, their table had been set in the middle of everyone else.
Surely, that wasn’t so that their backs were exposed.
Hundreds of eyes followed him.
There was an alcove that opened up to a small koi pond garden on the way to the restrooms.
The spot was special because of the concealing spells cast over it.
Perfect for clandestine meetings and other courtly intrigue.
He entered and tossed a few bread crumbs to the gobbling fishies while he waited.
The trod of dress shoes on the stone floor heralded the Phoenix Prince.
The man looked twenty, but was actually closer to fifty.
The day’s stubble on his lip and around his chin showed a man that didn’t care that much about his appearance.
Unlike his sister, who sat underneath many layers of resplendent robes and a ridiculous headdress as she presided over the courtyard with something like benign magnanimity.
In contrast, the prince looked like he was going out to a whisky bar with friends circa 2019 in his casual black suit, white shirt and no tie.
“Does your sister eat before or after?”
“It doesn’t matter. The inner flames of the Phoenix sustain us all… but she did have a few slices of pizza right before they piled that ridiculous shit on her,” the Phoenix Prince chuckled.
“Your daughter is trying to poison me.”
“No! How dare she!” the prince feigned horror. “Which one?”
“The youngest.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “The laxative? She’s gotten quite a few of her sisters and myself. Not to mention almost all the generals on the council. Cultivators are a trickier foe. They have ways to purge it despite its magical enhancement without the embarrassment the rest of us suffered. And so, it seems, you as well, judging by your condition.”
“A warning. Not part of our bargain. Some took the prank personally.”
“I’m not supposed to ask how you know, though I’m dying to know… but, the Phoenix Dynasty’s word is eternal. Not even death dims our flames, or so we say. Is my devious daughter in mortal danger?”
“Yes.”
“Well, now that’s serious. I’d have their names.”
“They align with what I want.”
“Serendipitous. Some would say suspicious.”
“And the other thing we agreed on.”
“Already?”
“I can expose them right now.”
“That’s fast.” The prince contemplated the koi for a silent moment, deep in thought. “Wait until after the tumblers. My younger ones have been looking forward to them all week.”
“I was going to suggest later tonight when they’re pretending to sleep to avoid the chaos.”
“Worried about someone taking a shot?”
“You know they will.”
“I’d blame your young cultivator. She’s challenging every cultivator that happens to wander across her vision.”
“Like you said, she’s young.”
“That’s no excuse to fail to give face,” the prince shook his head. “I get it. It’s dumb to me too. Did you know, I actually grew up in San Francisco. Went to high school there, then New York for college, before heading back home to work the family business.”
“I did not.”
“Yeah, I’m technically American, like you. Not that it matters anymore. No. We stick to the agreement. Reveal them after the tumblers performance.”
“People will die in the fight.”
“Yeah, I guess there are always people that’ll try to take advantage of chaos. It’d be a shame if something happened to our mutual enemies and anyone stupid enough to attack you.”
“Your daughters—”
“Enough,” the prince raised a hand. “The oldest are ready and the youngest are protected. A fledgling phoenix must be given kindling so that they may learn to burn the eternal flame.”
“You know that your power isn’t fire, right? It’s plasma. The flames are a byproduct.”
“Yeah, I’ve been told, but I went to school for business. That science stuff will just mess with my head. It’s fire to me and that’s worked for over twenty years. Not going to change it now,” he scoffed. “I’ll leave that to the more science-y of my daughters.”
“After the tumblers… and you accept any unnecessary deaths.”
“They were right about you. Our sages, oracles and other wizened old ladies that like to roll human knuckle bones in the dirt. Hard. Soft. Both, depending on the situation. Makes you human.”
“What else would I be?”
The Phoenix Prince shrugged.
“Something more.”