On top of a barren mound, peaking above fields of luminescent leaves, two shadows stirred. One twitched in barely restrained anger, while the other merely shook their head.
Alexander, the Seventh did neither. He frowned.
Everything had been perfect. Perfectly planned, perfectly prepared, perfectly executed. And yet..
And yet.
“What now?”
He turned towards the incompetent fool he unfortunately called ‘partner’, “We march home. The blow has been dealt, fatal or not.”
The gorilla-sized lemur clearly didn’t like that response, “What!? They still have four Blessed! We can’t absorb them like this!”
Six.
Alexander, the Seventh didn’t care for Fedon’s theatrics nor his stupidity, “If you want to follow them, go ahead.”
“That’s not the plan!”
Alexander, the Seventh stared at him for a moment, but made the wise decision to simply walk away. One of his own could placate him.
"Hey! Th—"
Oops.
Fedon slumped to the ground. Unconscious. The brainless pile of muscle was even less vigilant that he assumed. He looked around for one of Fedon’s handlers, but there were neither Blesseds nor Touched in view. Irritation invaded him.
He knew their Touched numbers had been heavily diminished—the Nyx, even ambushed, were formidable—but all of their Blessed had survived. What nonsense were they up to?
Alexander, the Seventh sneered and turned away. Whatever they were up to, he didn’t care. Their ‘partnership’ had run its course.
His wife stepped beside him, "Could we call this a failure?"
"Would you?"
"Fedon spoke true, we can not absorb them like this. But. A few of the others can. If they hear of their weakness, they would not hesitate. Your.. impatience with him will not aid in sealing his lips."
Alexander, The Seventh snorted, "A willing fool deserves no patience."
They descended the mound and rejoined the tree-laden jungle. Their retinue laid a mere handful of strides within.
"In respect to our original objective, we have failed. However, we've lost little and the door of opportunity still sways open. Even wider than before. New problems arise, but we need just find their solutions."
It was Sofia's turn to snort, "You mean you'll task me to find them?"
"Who else my love?" He rubbed his cheek against hers.
"My my. Little Seventh getting so bold."
"I remember when he—"
"Yes, yes. We were all once cubs." He cut the two crones off before their monologues could begin in earnest.
Nuisances.
"We march!"
And so they began the long march home. While they did so, they spoke of the future. What would need to be done, what could be done, what shouldn't be done. What they didn't speak about, was what had happened.
No one spoke of the air choking them with ahjer, or of the wells within them bursting into geysers, but he knew they all thought of it. How could they not? It snatched a perfect victory right out of their paws.
He, like all the others, heard the Nyx thanking Aegeus as they retreated. They were left to ponder. Could that have truly been his intervention? None dared believe so, so none dared speak on it.
They marched while discussing the future.
They marched while hoping for the future.
They marched, until they witnessed Aegeus' wrath descend upon their home.
Suddenly, marches turned to sprints.
----------------------------------------
“Fine. We’ll wait.”
The dome around the two fell apart.
I suppose I should prepare.
~The earth listens for I command it~
Ambient ahjer amassed in the soil below Dalric, shooting a large column of dirt into the air. The column violently shrunk as Dalric compacted the dirt to make it sturdier and more cohesive. With the aid of some of his own ahjer, he whittled down the column until it was in the shape of a regal chair.
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~Where I walk, life follows~
Upon the earthen throne, ahjer gathered and grew a soft, foam-like layer of dead moss. It covered the backrest, seat, and arms, leaving Dalric no room for discomfort. A luxury, and a statement. He briefly paused and debated whether to take it further, but recalling the something-jaguars stubborn insistence on fighting him made his decision for him. This wasn’t enough, he had to be grander than grand.
He took a seat, his back facing the village.
~It is not the throne that gives me power over this land, it is my power over this land that gives me the throne~
A mouthful of an incantation, but the spell was extensively intricate. Casting the baby version of Lightning Rain and then absorbing it had sapped him of two-thirds of his strength, wasting any more of his ahjer on complex spells would just be unwise. Even if it did irk his pride somewhat.
Dalric stretched out his senses while the spell did its work. He observed the nervous, slow, and hesitant movements. His once eager assailants now moved as if an errant paw would bring demise to their people. It brought a bittersweet expression to his face. The halfway between a smile and a grimace. The Enlightened, to his credit, seemed more excited than anything. He stared at the spell with childish awe.
Eighth, huh? And the leader is his father. Seventh? Surely not… I wonder if the rank and file have names. What could be more impersonal than numeric counting?
As Dalric let his mind wander towards trivial topics, the spell continued to churn. Again, the performance of incantations disappointed him, but with less than a fifth of his ahjer left he just had to make do. Seventh, may yet be an actually dangerous adversary and appearances meant little in the face of true strength.
Dalric hoped he wasn’t and that his preparations would be enough, but one never knew. He certainly didn’t know. What did he know?
The sigh escaped this time.
I’m exhausted.
His body sunk deeper into the moss. He vaguely wondered if he had the energy levels of a newborn as well. It had been somewhere between a bell and two bells since he was reborn. Possibly, three. Whatever the case, he should not be so physically drained. Yet, he was and the way the moss welcomed him further sapped his energy. His body was ready for sleep and sleep was ready for it. So as the spell finally finished, they met. Dalric didn’t have an ounce of resistance in him as dreamland ushered him in.
…
..
.
“Ay! I ain’t ever see nun ya ‘round here before. You hunters?”
I took another puff of purple ork dust as I peered at the three armored guards that approached our section of the tavern. Of course, because I was a giant they looked straight at me for answers. Elders knew I had nothing to say to them though.
“Yes sir, we are. Here to collect a bounty on some rogue knights.” Silva handled it, as he usually did.
“Rogue knights?” The one in the middle turned towards the whispers on his left, “Ah Brinston and dem boys. Well. Stay outta trouble. I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about nothin’ with y’all. Understand me?”
His gaze lingered on me in particular, but I just shrugged.
Silva responded again, “Yes sir, we’ll do our best.”
“Better do.”
The trio swiftly turned around and left the tavern. With them gone, the atmosphere livened up again.
I stuck my hand out towards Ryne, “That’ll be one hundred great pieces please.”
He grumbled, but inevitably forked over the coin. We’d wagered on how many guards would come up to us on our first day and Ryne foolishly lowballed it just because I’m not the only giant around. Alexandria may have been one of the most diverse cities on the continent, but that didn’t mean people would turn a blind eye to an almost thirty foot mammoth walking around. I’m not complaining about his poor choices though, free coin for me.
“Told you not to take that bet, I’ve known Dalric personally for almost two centuries now and he still freaks me out.”
Sensible words, Ryne complained anyway, “There are soo many giants here though!”
I scoffed, “Seven is hardly ‘soo many’.”
“That’s more than I’ve seen in my whole life up ‘til now.”
“First of all, you’re young. Second, that’s a good thing. I’m an outlier as far as giants go. We rarely mix well with others. If you see more than ten of us at once, you should probably run.”
“Ugh.”
The rest of the night went as it often did. We talked, got some food and drinks around, and swapped stories of the adventures we’d gone on since our last meet up. This sort of get-together used to be a frequent thing, but current circumstances just didn’t allow it. Too much risk. That just meant I had to treasure them more when they did come around.
Silva’s voice boomed through the building as we got back to the rented manor, “I don’t want to hear any complaints in the morning, we’re leaving bright and early!”
The rest of us replied in unison, “Aye, aye captain!”
“Shut up and go to sleep.”
We shared a laugh and went into our separate rooms. None of us naturally needed to sleep anymore, but we spent the night drinking what most people would consider liquid plague. Even with a healer in our ranks, we’d need a few bells to recover fully.
I carefully rolled into bed. Even though the manor specifically catered to multiple races, the beds still weren’t quite made for someone of my size. They creaked loudly as they strained to support my weight. My legs dangled off, but conveniently right at the knee. All things considered, for a bed that no doubt never had a customer my height or weight, it held up nicely. I could comfortably drift off into sleep.
So this is what you’ve run off to do.
My eyes bulged, “How?!”
Come now Dalric, you thought some dust would be enough to escape your contract?
I froze. Out of panic, out of fear, out of disbelief. I could only stare wide-eyed at the ceiling. I should have been safe, I should have been clear! They shouldn’t have been able to find me!
They’re nonbelievers aren’t they Dalric? You know we can’t have that.
.
..
...
Later, resting uncomfortably in his throne, Dalric felt a nudge. His eyes snapped open in alertness. The faces of four different enlightened beasts greeted them.
His nightmare immediately faded to the background. Vigilance and focus took center stage.
I fell asleep. How did I let myself fall asleep? What kind of idiocy is that?!
While the vast majority of his mind aggressively berated himself for the colossal, monumental blunder he just made, a tiny part of him smirked.
They were tigers.