Elinor shifted in her throne, scanning every inch of the hallways they passed; a breeze drifted around them, keeping the air fresh, which was an interesting detail. However, Elinor’s attention began to wander with every passing minute in silence.
In the ten minutes that followed, nothing of importance stood out to her as Noa’s big eyes continued to scan the identical passageways. At this point, the only thing that drew Elinor’s mind was how incredibly massive the place was; even Ke’Thra’Ma’s Palace would be considered modest given the width and height of these halls.
She couldn’t distract herself with any variance since the black stone was utterly smooth, not showing any indication of mortar. It actually seemed that this place was just one piece of semi-liquid stone, shifting beneath the layer of solid granite they walked on, and eventually, Elinor brought their company to a halt.
Leaning against the side of her silken throne while breathing in deeply, she centered on the A.I. “Is there really nothing to note, Noa? Every opening you’ve made is just a straight hallway.”
The woman floated around, spinning in a short circle to look at various areas. “It’s … just so complex—and yet so simple—I keep looking for a deeper meaning, but it’s very unembellished … beyond anything I’ve connected to, but … yes, there’s nothing really all that special, given the phenomenal base.”
Figuring this was her translation ability at work, a low rumble shook Elinor’s throat. “How so? Also, can you make the wall invisible again?”
“Umm, I can do a section; one moment, Empress…”
Elinor took her party to the left to stand by the unassuming black granite wall, and once up close, she noticed the tiny yellow speckles that infused the unusual stone; it took a few more seconds for the A.I. to drain it of color, forehead creasing with concentration.
“Mmh…” Her glowing emerald irises flicked between various points of the vast bubbling lake; they’d gone a decent way, which made her wonder just how immense this structure was.
To her left were the glowing cliffs, curving forward to be seen from their angle, and beyond the light snowfall, she could see a frozen wasteland of what appeared to be glaciers; steam hissed out from between them, puffing dark red clouds into the air that settled back into a thin mist as far as she could see in the storm.
They were a tad higher off the ground than by the doors, showing a descent in terrain. Still, the only thing that could be seen on the floor was a thick sheet of misty ice. She had a better view of the floating artifact sucking in the body of water to expel it into the atmosphere, yet nothing of further significance really snatched her eye.
“We’re in an enormous structure that puts Nethermore’s buildings to shame—I can hardly imagine living in something like this—the hallways are as large as the Palace’s Grand Hall, yet I’m more fascinated by what’s outside of it … I’m disappointed so far.”
Her vision still taken in by the exterior, Elinor’s gaze wandered between several colossal black metal chains that shot out of the lake, the hazed snowfall, and the visible fissure’s cliff that ran between the structure and land, attaching to ringlets that appeared to be connected to the side of the grand line.
She searched the opposite shore, but the links seemed to be the only path to reach the fortress. “Is this just an unfinished project of Ke’Thra’Ma? I can’t see him hiding away something he was proud of, which means something important must be here.”
Noa forced a chuckle, looking to the Maids, Quen’Talrat, and Thélméthra, still on high-alert, scanning in every direction. “It really is strange, Empress; In all my life of dealing with runes, I have never seen something so intricate and well-constructed.”
The dark-skinned woman paused, looking to the ceiling. “Hmm, I suppose that’s not entirely accurate … The Ke created one such design at the core of my systems, but this is so much more expansive, which shocks me—although, considering the signatures I’ve identified, I can say I should not be surprised.”
Elinor’s attention immediately returned to the floating runic woman. “You know the architects?”
The A.I.’s lips became a line. “Mmh—I wouldn’t say I know the architect, but I have heard of the specialist group … The Twelve Runic Sages.”
A flash of recognition passed through Amra’Cora’s connection to Elinor, pulling her gaze; there was a nervous twist to the woman’s stomach that was rare. “Oh? There is somewhere to start, Noa … Can someone tell me more about these sages.”
Black locks shifted against her bare shoulders, Noa turned to frown at the black hallways. “I’m afraid I only know the Sages from the Ke’s complaints; he had a challenging time getting the masters of the craft and his star pupils to work together—quite a bit of trouble—and there was the issue of how eccentric they were.”
She grimaced. “Heh, at one point, he ranted that without him, they’d be nothing but fools, arguing about what is the most effective way to activate a crystal—trying to save a fraction of a percent on its power, and in the end, nothing would get finished.”
“Not wrong.” Amra’Cora’s expression became pained, causing a few of her team members to snicker in her direction as the atmosphere lightened. “I could see it in the Ke’s frustration … My time under Grand Runic Scribe Alua’Kana’Ra in the academy was not the most pleasant. He had a disdain for my mother.”
Head tilting to face the woman in her chair, Elinor rested her cheek against her knuckles; this was the first time she heard about something like a Grand Runic Scribe in the Quen’Talrat job listings or an Elite Hunter academy.
“Did he take it out on you?”
Air hissed out of the giant ape’s teeth, her nose twitching. “Not exactly—he expressed agitation toward my mother because, to him, my talents were wasted in a combat unit. The Grand Runic Scribe wished for me to take more of an interest in the Runic Art since he believed I had an innate talent; this was during my basic Elite Hunter examination upon his return from the Northern Conquest.”
Elinor’s emerald irises wandered back to the bubbling lake; Amra’Cora was the daughter of the Silver Queen and had a rough time living up to her mother’s legendary name—it was all the woman wanted—but unfortunately, she didn’t inherit the same physical prowess as the influential leader of the gray-furred apes.
“Becdeth said what I sought was here. Do you think that Alua’Kana’Ra could repair Nethermore to its former glory, Amra’Cora?”
The woman took in a deep breath before puffing it out and rubbing her trunk-like left arm. “Without a doubt … Alua’Kana’Ra is among the greatest Rune Scribes the Ke ever taught—his right hand in education on the matter. Eh … however, being able to accomplish it in a speedy time … that I highly doubt.”
“Mhm … Is that because you believe he will get caught up in reworking the entire grid to his personal taste?”
“Yes, Empress … I have no doubt he would make improvements, but his fascination with expanding the known knowledge of runecrafting and branching away from the Ke’s teachings caused conflicts between the two—which always left the Sage bloodied—yet he rarely changed his mind on topics.”
Noa chuckled. “I can agree with that assessment—based on the Ke’s characterization of the Rune Scribe—although … Eh, yes, Empress; currently, I can only sense three hands that have worked on this network, and Alua’Kana’Ra is at its base with two other members of the Twelve Runic Sages … Let’s see … Alua’Kolo’Lana and Alua’Quel’Lana.”
Melia’Ia hissed beside her commander, shifting around her shoulders. “The Sage Twins—not my favorite of the Sages.”
Elinor smiled as the Quen’Talrat party began bouncing off each other; Noa seemed excited to join in when she could.
Yelro’Kuma rolled his burning ax in his hands while standing to Elinor’s right, glaring down the corridor. “When I was in training, our barracks was unusable after the first day because the Twins had conducted unauthorized research regarding some experimental offensive and defensive runic arts … Hacking Alua’Kana’Ra’s system, which caused his entire grid to enter a feedback loop which paralyzed anyone who entered.”
“Mmh! Good times!” Ramuk laughed. “I was in my second year of training when that happened—my class tried to overpower it as a challenge—he-he, only I managed to last more than five minutes before being pulled out by vines.”
“I do recall that story from the Ke,” Noa jumped in. “It was that incident that caught his eye and accelerated the Twins to their Sage status, despite their young age of twenty-eight.”
She rose to the Quen’Talrat’s level as they looked at her, and Elinor could still see the uncertainty in Ramuk’s gaze about how to feel toward the runic A.I. A rumble shook in the Elite Soldier’s throat as he acknowledged her statement. “Yes … rumors were that Alua’Kana’Ra hated the twins because they were able to bypass his security protocols—that first incident took him two days to remove the affix they’d implanted since they refused to do it—even after punishment, and laughed at his struggles.”
Having heard enough about the legends that took part in this structure’s runic grid, Elinor’s excitement grew. “Are you saying any of these Sages can restore the city; they don’t only specialize in a singular area, correct?”
“They do,” Amra’Cora mumbled, “but they are prodigies of the Ke, having learned every runic style; each Sage excels at different topics but knows enough to cause trouble for one another in their own fields and provide a different perspective … even if not always right.”
“Mmgm…” She rolled around her neck and stretched out her arms while pondering her.
“From what I heard my mother discuss, the issue came when one makes a decent suggestion on another Sage’s subject—they would resist out of pride, seek a better solution, and thereby set back projects by weeks. There were a lot of headaches the Elite Hunters were forced to handle when incidents occurred between them.”
“I can care less about domestic disputes between them,” Elinor smiled. “I only need one—more is welcomed—but from what you’ve told me, they would be invaluable. Can you find the center of this fortress, Noa?”
They turned to the nervous woman as she backed up under the pressure, shifting to the side to peer at the unseen. “Umm … this place just keeps going, Empress, and it’s so dense, despite being fairly minimal on runes, in general.”
The woman floated ahead, spinning around in circles with her arm clasped behind her back. “Eh … maybe?”
“Meaning?”
Noa’s crescent irises lingered on the smooth black stone to their right. “I think this entire fortress is more or less just built into a grid format; it is customizable and has yet to be properly shaped. I don’t think Mila was able to do much with it—I bet she lost interest out of pride the moment she realized it was the Sages who oversaw the project.”
She swallowed, vision returning to Elinor. “It’s so dense and vast it just makes my mind spin. Let’s see … the unique style of Alua’Kana’Ra is very different from what the Ke based my design on, but overall, it is fairly uniform and barren of … How would I describe it … casual living runic features?”
“In short, a new and incomplete project. Hmm….” Elinor’s focus drifted to their right. “Can you create a sort of transparent elevator and take us to the top from the outside in, so we can better grasp what we’re dealing with? Surely, there’d be something at the top.”
A frown touched the dark-skinned woman’s lips. “It … won’t be the fastest route, given my inexperience, but give me a moment … To a degree, it’s as if I’m learning how to work in a language that’s familiar … but it’s not.”
“No rush, Noa; I understand, and I’m not angry at you … Becdeth could have been more specific,” she whispered, glaring toward Nethermore. “As of now, we only have two goals; first, identify what we are in, and second, find one of these Sages … I can’t see Becdeth going through all the trouble he did and making such an elaborate story to troll me.”
Her teeth clamped together as an unpleasant thought crossed her mind, forcing her eyes closed and fingers to rub her temple. “Unless … this is some form of elaborate hazing for new members of the Covenant, and they’re laughing at me while in their floating city.”
Anger flashed between her escort, but Elinor curbed the indignation with a short sigh. “In the end, Becdeth has shown us something of interest, and right now, it seems like a good lead. We’ll follow it through.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” Camellia asked, eyeing Noa sliding her hands across the invisible wall while mumbling to herself.
Pondering the question, Elinor shot a few questions in the dark.
“Can you smell anything?”
“Mmgm … No, Empress … So far as I can tell, nothing has walked these halls, but considering the cleansing elements carried along the wind, I suspect nothing will be detectable beyond an hour or two.”
“And there hasn’t been a single hint of a threat since Becdeth left … So, there really isn’t much you can do but remain vigilant.”
“Yes, Empress…”
Elinor felt a little bad for the sizable, armored spider as her body dropped a little; she needed something to take her mind off of her recovering sisters. Valerie, Theresa, play something for Camellia to learn while we explore.
“It will be our pleasure,” the motherly Maid said, smiling at the red-gemmed creature, and Valerie summoned her violin to create a tune for them to follow.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Her Songweaver Maids’ harmony helped to soothe Elinor’s nerves from Becdeth’s lingering presence in her heart and mind; it was as if she could still hear its dualistic voices whispering through the air.
Everyone’s attention soon went to the wall as it silently extended forward, color draining from its sides; entering the expansive cut-out, Elinor got her first look at the colossal structure, which shocked her.
It was massive and appeared to run into the mountain to their right; she couldn’t see much beyond the straight climb to the wall’s peak, but Noa was already moving them up. The exit sealed as they moved to the next floor, and Noa’s examination seemed correct; every level was the same hallway grid.
Her real surprise came upon cresting the wall, seeing it rise at a slant—they were inside of a colossal, multi-tiered pyramid—they passed through a river of flowing blue liquid that sparkled as if filled with glitter. It sprang out of the mountain’s side to enter small channels she could see within the clear fluid as Noa moved their box across levels.
Small traces of green electricity sparked through the channel, applying propulsion so far as Elinor could tell, from fist-sized gems embedded into the surface—even more magical were the multi-hued fish the size of a seal that swam in the liquid.
Rising out of the river, she saw runes so massive that the only thing she could compare them to would be Time Square’s colossal, building-sized displays. Terrifying images of Quen’Talrat faces, twitching with rage as the runes vibrated caused Noa’s lips to part in disbelief.
“These are … Alua’Mastro’Na’s signature … Another Sage that deals with ecosystem-based runic grids … And there’s Alua'Golro'Mag that handles biological structure … Why would the Ke allow this?” she whispered as they came upon a red riverway on the following tier.
Passing into it, Noa hugged herself, fearful eyes darting left and right as her guard shifted nervously. “A pathogen like your Zombies, Empress … It corrodes and decays living tissue by infecting the cells.”
It was more than Elinor could hope for, and it was also clear why Ke’Thra’Ma hid this place away; this was the experimental grounds for his Sages to have free reign to explore their craft. Each of the five levels they rose past had various other topics of interest; an artillery district for an aerial defense to a greenhouse level and a water collection zone on the last to feed it.
Once at the last section, Elinor watched the box slowly meld into the pyramid before suddenly coming to an abrupt halt a meter inside; only blackness met her vision. “Is something wrong?”
Noa’s lips bunched, darting forward. “Umm … Oh, that’s … interesting. It seems Alua’Quel’Lana’s runic grid is blocking all entrances because of a pathogen … Eh, Empress…”
Elinor sighed, rubbing her temple again. “Don’t tell me … All the Sages ended up dying because of Alua’Golro’Mag’s biological weapon … Ironic. It shouldn’t affect us, correct?”
“Eh-heh, no, Empress—only living tissue so far as I’ve analyzed, and all of you seem to operate on some energy source I couldn’t begin to explain.”
“Death,” Elinor answered. “I use the actual essence of what constitutes death … Don’t think about it too much. Can you get us in?”
“I think…” Noa mumbled. “It’s just going to take some time.”
“We have time—for the most part,” Elinor muttered, wondering if Becdeth had disabled many of the defenses when first teleporting them here.
Forty minutes passed as Noa beat her head against the wall, trying to find the proper sequence to end the quarantine; in that time, Elinor scanned the mountainside from their high position, yet still, snow blanketed much of her vision.
It was fascinating that the biome Alua’Mastro’Na created still functioned perfectly within its construction boundaries after a century. The fruit, grazing livestock, and grains appeared to be in perfect condition; the snow seemed to be at the ideal level to evaporate long before reaching the area.
The area would be a great spot to cultivate food, but Noa would need to do extensive research into the effects this has had on them and how her various races would react to the produce, meat, and grains.
Her attention was snatched by Noa’s relieved cheer. “I did it! It was so … frustrating—why did she have to make it so hard to undo … Oh…”
Their box entered the pyramid to be shown a blazing stellated, octahedron-shaped ruby, that shimmered in the center of the space; at its hollow core sat a smooth, light blue pearl, rotating in tinted liquid, and lying below it, a giant six and a half meter tall Quen’Talrat.
Smile birthing on Elinor’s lips, she straightened as her arms flared with emerald flames to release her butterflies to investigate; they hovered around the corpse as she studied the rest of the empty room—the only other topic of inspection came from the complex weave of three-dimensional runes floating through the space, which was very new compared to the 2-dimensional versions she’d seen thus far.
“Oh…” Noa hissed, arms pulling in to tighten against her breast. “It’s airborne … Eh, it might linger on your clothing, Empress … I will need to take you to a decontamination zone to attempt to neutralize the pathogen.”
Elinor’s smirk widened, vision narrowing as she examined the spirit that lingered on the skeleton. “That’s fine. Camellia, gather up her bones—can you teleport us out from here?”
“I can. Although I don’t know how long the decontamination process will last—I’m new to this type of super-enhanced virus—it’s continually being spread through the room … A nasty thing.”
“Let’s begin then.”
Runes collected around them, blotting out all sight as Noa’s face scrunched up, appearing to struggle to perform the action. “It’s … harder than Becdeth made it look,” she growled.
Camellia’s web instantly shot out and collected the bones, but it took another three minutes for Noa to finish processing the teleportation route. A chamber large enough to be a school auditorium came into view as the lights faded.
Noa cleared her throat, fidgeting nervously. “I, umm, need to spray all of you with liquid … It’s pretty harsh stuff, but I want to be thorough so as not to harm our Empire—your citizens—that is.”
Rising to her feet, Elinor reached up to unclasp her earrings. “I can simply reconstruct my body when this is over; we will just lose the ability to communicate temporarily. Theresa, make sure my earrings are disinfected…”
“Yes, Empress.” The Maid held out her hands, caringly embracing her phylacteries as her world went black; her mind was still on her prize as Noa cleansed them.
Alua’Quel’Lana, an Arcanist Class with the Runic Master Subclass, specializing in the Defensive Grids … Legendary-Grade. She isn’t in the Combat Category, though, so the high Grade is more attributed to the Skill Points and base Stats she’s allotted at rebirth.
Still, I have enough to raise her as it stands … She’s better than a thousand specialists from the mines. I have my expert, and she may be able to help us locate the other Sages.
After five minutes, the motherly Maid’s voice entered Elinor’s mind. “It is finished, Empress.”
Reconstructing her body, her eyebrow lifted upon standing on the dry ground; Valerie and Theresa had removed their clothing and were spreading them out on the floor. The former amateur model was straining her blonde locks with a sad expression as the black-haired Maid did the same.
The pungent smell of the chemicals Noa used soon filled her nose; to say it was skunk-like would be an understatement.
“Not the most pleasant aroma,” Elinor commented, turning to see the furry-soaked forms of the Quen’Talrat as Noa hovered nearby.
“I apologize, Empress,” the A.I. sighed, but she could see the woman’s crescent eyes studiously scanning their bodies to likely compare with what she’d crafted for her own human figure. “I can attempt to cleanse you of the smell—Quen’Talrat find the scent quite appealing.”
Theresa cleared her throat while trying to manage her messy hair. “It would be appropriate for the Empress to be presentable to anyone that sees her when we make our return.”
Camellia transformed into her human state, examining her own wet body as the spider woman’s outfit came into place. “It’s not a terrible odor but not my favorite; the scent was easy to track and eat Quen’Talrat when I was alive, and my silk is waterproof.”
“Eh-he-he-he,” Valerie forced a laugh, rosy cheeks bunching a tad. “While that is amazing, Camellia, they are not immune to this … smell … And it is not the most pleasant to my nose.”
Elinor could see why the typically smiling blonde looked a tad disgruntled; her fashionably looped ponytail was probably a nightmare to set up, and she took pride in how she looked.
Noa directed them to a door that opened out of the dim decontamination room. “A washing area isn’t too far away—there is a place I can transfer a cleaning solution—I hope it isn’t worse,” she said with strained laughter.
Elinor ascended her throne again with her exposed Maids, gathering their clothing; her robes and outfit were still on the throne, which luckily had places to drain any liquid, so it didn’t collect in the seat.
On their way out, her vision lingered on Alua’Quel’Lana’s spaced-out bones; they were somewhat discolored, but after a quick inspection on their path to the showers, she confirmed they were fine.
The downpour in the room they entered had already started; it was cold, yet no one complained, considering they all had temperature mitigation as a part of their resistances. Whatever solution Noa mixed into the water seemed to do the trick, washing away the slimy sensation her Maids felt while casting a strong pine scent, which wasn’t ideal to the women’s preference but was more than preferable to the alternative.
It was a little surprising to Elinor when a soft cream glow illuminated Valerie’s hands to produce a brush; apparently, the Maids had a small storage for grooming goods, and the former model had stocked up on everything she could from the Earth products they still had.
After the shower ceased, the crystals brightened to produce heat that evaporated the liquid, and her Maids had a joyful time bustling about Elinor’s appearance before dressing and fixing themselves.
The Quen’Talrat weren’t particularly concerned about their soaked fur, reapplying their armor and posting up in the hallway and doorway, even if Elinor felt reasonably safe within the areas Noa was familiar with.
Elinor figured an hour had passed since returning, which increased her Death Pool by a large portion; she was nearing 6,340 DE of her 7,454 Pool. Intelligent Legendary-Grade Undead currently took 1,610 DE, which was more than acceptable.
Settling back into her throne, Elinor gave her Maids a thankful smile as they returned to their stationary position behind her chair; they’d just finished fixing each other’s appearance and redressed, Valerie opting for a simple ponytail for the time being.
Finally, it was time to see what this Rune Master could accomplish; she sent out seven jade-colored butterflies to land on the pile of bones, causing a storm of emerald flames to cyclone as they returned to their proper positions.
The color-tinted beige as the Quen’Talrat’s organs, muscle, and skin filled out to finish with a giant six and a half meter tall tan-colored ape to appear.
Alua’Quel’Lana’s two heads rolled around as she groaned, stretching out her two arms, legs, and long tails; she blinked upon looking around, illuminated brown irises settling on Elinor. In a relatively young voice, she gave an awkward smile. “Umm … Wow, so, I suppose I’m in your service, Empress! Eh … Is my sister here, too? No … Aww…”
“Show respect for your Overlord,” Amra’Cora stated, directing a glare at the slightly shorter woman.
“Oh, interesting,” she mused, an air of confidence filling her gut at the statement as she tested out the Nexus, and she could feel the girl’s probing thoughts trying to identify everything within reach; there was a thirst for knowledge in the young Sage. “And I am showing respect, Amra’Cora—he-he-he, imagine the Silver Queen’s daughter falling to this extent. As I recall, you were far stronger than this,” she hummed, eyeing her combat superior.
Amra’Cora’s fur bristled at the implication. “I am your superior, Alua’Quel’Lana. Careful with your tongue.”
The smirk the Rune Master wore twitched as she stretched out her chest and rubbed her right forearm. Rising to her full height, she was the second largest Quen’Talrat in the room behind the Commander, showing why the girl was brought to the Elite Hunter academy—she could have been a formidable combatant had not she taken the runic route.
In fact, strength-wise, she was surprisingly powerful for a non-combat type like her Maids, coming closer to Melia'Ia’s power, and even if the Elite Defender wasn’t built for offense, it was an impressive feat. She shouldn't have expected less from a Legendary-Grade unit.
“Yet it is I that holds a title,” she returned, likely referencing the Sage’s ‘Alua’ brand before her name. “Ahem, Empress, allow me to introduce myself,” she chimed, ignoring the ruffled Elite Hunter to present herself, kneeling in front of Elinor’s throne. “I am Alua’Quel’Lana, thirty years old, Sage of the Runic Arts, and happy to be of service to the Empire!”
Having allowed the banter for long enough, Elinor breathed out a short sigh. “We can hold the banter and cheek for now. Alua’Quel’Lana, tell me about the project you were a part of and where the other Sages are.”
The woman straightened, vision darting to Noa, hovering beside Elinor. “Mmh … My memory is a tad hazy, but I recall some major—rather stupid, might I add—incident occurring where Alua'Golro'Mag decided—ahem, on his own—that the best solution to the army marching against us was to test out his experimental weapon … by infecting Alua'Talia'Asa,” she hissed, rubbing her forehead with agitation.
“He then tried to toss her out into a nearby patrol—that weren’t even interested in even trying to assault the fortress—but Alua'Golro'Mag always has been stupid. In doing so, he didn’t tell Alua'Talia'Asa his plan but simply expelled her.
“Naturally, she easily destroyed the weak creatures and fumed back inside—his weapon came with a delay, which he hadn’t considered—and since Alua'Talia'Asa specializes in System Integrity, she could easily bypass his attempt to keep her out. As a result, we all ended up in an argument as she called everyone together, which ultimately killed us all … I’d refrain from bringing back Alua'Golro'Mag,” she grumbled.
It was such a ridiculous story, Elinor couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re telling me, the greatest sages or minds of Ke’Thra’Ma’s Empire were killed … by idiocy … Did you not have detection runes to know when someone was infected?”
“I did; I crafted them myself!” she fumed. “He deactivated them to not tip her off—as I said, an idiot! When he—calmly, might I add—told us we were all probably going to die because he hadn’t designed a cure, I went to the Fortress Data Center to work on the problem … Unfortunately, his pathogen was quite effective once activated, and … I suppose the result was my death.”
Her somber frustration flipped into a bright smile. “Now, I am Undead, as I understand, which is quite the advantage! I can continue my work with my sister—we, eh, just need to find her.”
A low hum rumbled in Elinor’s throat as her gaze drifted to her Runic A.I. “You know what Noa is?”
“Indeed!” she rose to step forward and examine the nervous woman. “The Ke’s project that would connect everything he was developing; an unusual design for the Ke, I might add,” she whispered, scrutinizing Noa’s half-Nalvean and human appearance. “Noa, generate a terminal for me to analyze your network.”
The woman’s crescent irises darted to Elinor. “Umm … Empress?”
“Go on.”
“Okay…”
In the next instance, the bathing room they were in shimmered with light, and runes exploded around them in a swirl of chaos, but Alua’Quel’Lana’s studious eyes darted around as if she were reading the morning paper.
“Oh … Oh, this is … this is terrible! The Ke’s masterful style has been butchered … Who expanded this Nexus—Noa? It is as if a complete amateur were scribbling partial nonsense to see if it would work! Also … horribly inefficient … Why are all the logs scrubbed! Humph, this is not what I expected to find.”
“I-It wasn’t me,” Noa mumbled. “Mila did it when she forced herself into my position.”
“Mmh … I see that now … Although there are some rather advanced features even I’ve never seen before or considered … Fascinating, it seems the further we go, Mila’s mastery increases, but … Ugh, something has practically withered the Nexus Core of power. No wonder you’re operating at such dismal efficiency … So much work to be done.”
Excitement bubbled in Elinor’s gut as she complained and groaned while studying the network. “First, I want you to focus on Nethermore—the giant city the Ke built.”
Alua’Quel’Lana’s expression became pained. “I … suppose the living spaces would take priority … Ugh, it’s so basic, though.”
Elinor chuckled. “I will raise subordinates you can give instructions to in order to speed up the process. For now, Noa, search the Fortress with Finila and Giliri for the other Sages and transport them back. Jumi’calro and Alua’Quel’Lana will be returning to Nethermore for Tiffany to perform the sealing ritual for the boy to be bound to serve me. I want our city defenses up and running as soon as possible.”
The Sage cleared her throat. “Umm … Might I add my own touches, Empress? Yes, the Ke did order defenses made—if you want to call them that—but if we are restoring it, I’d like to improve on the original designs, mmh … Maybe add a few things I’ve been pondering?”
“So long as you don’t act in the same way as Alua'Golro'Mag, I have no objections; my focus is on securing the city for my citizens, who are living.”
“Understood! I can’t wait to meet the crew you’ve assembled, Empress!”
When they made their way back, Jumi’calro fanboying over the Sage, Alua’Quel’Lana’s expression became dull upon seeing her makeshift crew of mine workers.
“This is the team I have to work with?” she mumbled, unimpressed gaze drifting between the fidgeting Quen’Tarlat. “Ugh … This is going to be more troublesome than I thought … Please, Empress … Please, at least find me my sister … This is going to take some time.”