Through the small gap in the glass, Dave beheld a sight that practically defied comprehension.
Amidst the gloom, beneath the ring of clouds circling the town loomed an immense entity - a shadow stretching a thousand meters high. It moved with a sinister elegance, its unnaturally elongated appendages reminiscent of a centipede fused with a human fused with an octopus.
The creature - if it could even be called that - was a writhing mass of darkness, its body seeming to shift and flow like a river of molten ferromagnetic fluid. Its head and neck was a nightmare made manifest - a crown of writhing black wings and tentacles, each one as thick as a train car connected to the ring of clouds overhead. Amidst this squirming mass, countless silver-blue eyes glowed with an otherworldly intelligence, scanning the world below with predatory intent. Below the chest, thousands of red eyes, each burning like embers in the night, were embedded in its torso.
"God damn," Dave choked. "What are you?!"
As if in response to his question, the creature let out another bone-chilling howl. The sound reverberated through the lighthouse, causing dust to rain down from the ceiling and the very walls to tremble.
Circling this monstrous colossus was a swarm of smaller, but still quite large shadows, each one silently darting and weaving through the air. The entire swarm of shadows was backlit by the gold and red glow of the black hole's corona, creating a hellish halo above the titanic beast.
Dave watched in horrified fascination as the leviathan lumbered across the city. It moved with a terrible, fluid grace, its body seeming to flow over the trees and outer fortifications as if they were mere pebbles in a stream. The swarm of smaller shadows that comprised and constantly disconnected from its form writhed and twisted, continuously reshaped themselves to look like dragons, foxes, lions, centipedes and other alien monsters that spread across the entire city landing on rooftops and rushing across the empty streets.
Dave suddenly spotted a non-shadow, brown wyvern beneath the monolithic being, attempting to reach the town's daunting stone wall. The monstrous shadow suddenly reached out with a skyscraper-sized tentacle hand, and plucked the five-meter tall wyvern from the air. With another chilling wail, the colossus obliterated the wyvern within its grip as effortlessly as a man dispatching a mosquito with his fingertips.
The smaller shadows flew away from Shandria into all directions, obliterating scattering wyverns in the distant black hole corona-lit clouds with deep thrumming sounds. Dave recalled how something attacked the wyvern that carried him across the mountains at night. He now knew exactly what it was.
A myriad of eyes, akin to the glimmering pinpricks of starlight strewn across the ebony shawl of night of the nearest flying shadow-beast suddenly fixated upon Dave, six wings turning to aim towards the tower he was occupying.
"Nope, nope, nope," the isekai'd programmer stammered, hastily retreating from the window, seeking refuge beneath the crimson glow of the protective rune. His entire body was now fully drenched in sweat.
There was something profoundly disquieting about the shadow beast and its swarm, an alien intelligence, an abyssal darkness that seemed to devour all hope in its presence.
Dave sought solace within the confines of timeworn blankets, his body convulsing in uncontrollable shivers as the cold tendrils of fear danced across his very soul.
He suddenly recalled Remicra's words.
"Run now. Before the Leviathan Nightingale spreads its wings across all of Shandria."
So this was the monster... no, an entire swarm of monsters that chopped up everyone who went out at night.
A crimson rune flickered erratically right above him, its power clearly waning, unable to fully extend its protective aura to the edges of the dilapidated chamber where tenebrous malevolence stirred.
With bated breath, Dave peered into the murky gloom, staring into the void for what felt like an eternity.
Gradually, as if materializing from the very fabric of darkness itself, three gleaming silver orbs emerged, their unblinking gaze fixed upon him.
Dave's fingers instinctively sought the familiar comfort of his bone knife.
A sinister form, woven from the shadows themselves, danced towards him with an eerie, fluid grace. It was a creature both feline and centipede-like in aspect, its sinuous movements mesmerizing and uncanny akin to black ink spilled across reality.
The malevolent, small apparition slammed into the barrier of the rune's red light, as though it were an impenetrable shield, and emitted a guttural hiss of frustration.
"Nice try," Dave taunted. "Now scuttle back to your mommy and leave me be."
Undeterred, the nocturnal interloper continued to prowl the periphery of the rune's protective glow, its gaze never leaving Dave, as if daring him to venture beyond the safety of the red light.
Dave sighed, resigning himself to the vigil that lay ahead. As the hours crawled by, a silent battle of wills ensued between man and small shadow, each determined to outlast the other.
Eventually, however, fatigue claimed its inevitable victory, and Dave's consciousness succumbed to the irresistible lure of slumber, the hungry shadow still lingering at the edge of his thoughts.
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Dave's slumber was abruptly interrupted by the cacophony of clamorous banging that reverberated throughout the lighthouse's timeworn structure, originating from the depths below. He opened his eyes, blinking the lingering remnants of sleep away, only to discover that his shadowy companion had vanished into the ether.
"Well, at least I haven't lost any limbs, so I have that going for me," Dave muttered as he stretched, his muscles protesting the exertion after a night of uneasy sleep.
Squinting against the dazzling brilliance of sunlight, he noted the kaleidoscope of colors that danced across the chamber, refracted through the dust-laden panes of the stained glass windows depicting a blonde girl.
Upon longer inspection the female mage etched into the stained glass reminded him of someone he knew...
As he shoved more points into Wisdom to try to understand what he was seeing, his mind snapped to the answer in a flash of insight.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Lari.
Dave scrambled to his feet, his heart racing as he approached the stained glass window. With trembling hands, he began to scrub away at the grime that had accumulated over the multitude of years with his scruffy cloak edge, his eyes fixed on the blonde girl that bore an uncanny resemblance to Lari.
"It can't be," he muttered to himself.
As more of the image became clear and his raggedy cloak became dirtier, Dave's breath caught in his throat. The stained glass depicted a young woman with flowing silver hair and piercing blue eyes, her expression serene yet focused. She wore a white robe adorned with a stylized red cross with a crown atop it, and her hands projected green radiance. There was no Kitlix on her shoulder.
He traced the outline of her face with his finger, memories of their time together on Earth flooding back. The late-night conversations, the shared laughter, the way she always knew just what to say to lift his spirits, the way she encouraged him to be a better person, to focus on his dreams and goals.
It couldn't be her. Not like this. This was a coincidence, it had to be... maybe it was someone else, a healer who looked like the girl he lost!
Dave scrubbed the base of the stained glass harder, exposing a date.
[Saint Saria. Shandria, 8085 AXT]
He slotted more of his points into Wisdom and the rest into Intelligence, to help his mind recall her face.
The violin in his soul resounded with a sorrowful melody as everything clicked into place with blindingly awful clarity.
Time.
The stained glass was old, incredibly old, faded and cracked, withered with centuries of neglect.
"You didn't die that long ago," Dave choked, his fingers holding onto the cold, stone window frame. "How? How could we be separated by... centuries?"
The sunlight streaming through the colored glass cast a kaleidoscope of hues across Dave's face, as if Lari - or Saint Saria, as the inscription named her - was reaching out to him across space and time. It was her, slightly older, but it was definitely, irrefutably her.
Her face was imprinted into the glass by some unknown craftsman's magic long ago with incredible precision, as clear as a photograph.
"Were you reincarnated too?" he wondered aloud. "Did you build a new life here, become a Saint and healer, while I was left behind on Earth? Did my soul take too long to be pulled back into physical existence on Arx?"
The stained glass didn't answer.
Dave sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping.
"I miss you," he said softly, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. "I wish you were here to help me make sense of all this magical bullshit."
After several more minutes of quiet contemplation, Dave reluctantly stepped away from the window. The mystery of his best friend's apparent connection to Arx would have to wait. Right now, he had more immediate concerns to deal with.
With a final, lingering glance at the stained glass, Dave made his way towards the stairs. He descended the ancient spiral stairwell, each step echoing faintly within the confines of the lighthouse, its steps worn down by countless boots long ago.
Soon, he arrived at the lofty chamber on the ground floor, where he saw the dragon blacksmith fully absorbed in her metallurgical labors at the forge.
"Morning," Dave said.
The draconic smith cast a weary glance in his direction, before resuming her metalworking with single-minded determination, banging even louder as if trying to scare him off with the loud noise.
Undeterred, the ex-programmer waited, his eyes tracing the sinuous lines of her form. Eventually, the relentless cacophony ceased, and Remicra turned to face him.
"Yes?" she inquired sharply. "Why do you still linger? I clearly stated that you were to depart by sunrise."
"I was hoping we could talk," he said.
"About what? I thought I made myself very clear last night. I'm not interested in your problems, human."
"I understand you have no reason to help me. But I'm not asking for charity. I'm offering an exchange - my skills for your expertise."
The dragoness snorted. "And what skills could you possibly offer that would be of use to me?"
"Need someone with incredible strength to help move heavy materials? I can do that. Need someone with the dexterity to handle delicate work? I can do that too. Agility to fetch things quickly? Intelligence to help with complex calculations? I can be all of those things," Dave offered.
The dragoness made a thoughtful face as if she considered his proposal.
"Also, uhm," Dave added, unable to help himself. "Upstairs, in the room where I slept, there's a stained glass window. It depicts a woman named Saint Saria. Do you know anything about her?"
"No," Remicra replied. "I don't care about your accursed human Saints. Also, I already explained why I can't remove the metal from your blood."
"But..." Dave began.
"Yes yes, you can somehow do the stuff that mundane level thirty adventurers can, congratulations." The dragoness waved him off as her entire figure became painted with violet and red tones. "Find another smith, one that isn't owned."
"I can help you," Dave offered. "Don't you want to be free from your collar?"
Remicra's gold-violet eye visibly twitched.
"What?" she hissed through clenched teeth, her scales turning a richer red. "What are you insinuating? How could a pathetic, clueless, tearful, weak manling such as yourself even... No, the very notion of someone like you offering to break my collar is absurd!"
Dave couldn't help but feel like an interstellar spaceman, marooned on a distant world and beset by a decidedly inhospitable creature. He wondered if all dragonkin were as cantankerous as Remicra.
"I am a stranger in a strange land," he said. "I am without friends, finances and resources in an unfamiliar land, and I would really prefer not to become some beast's dinner in the wilds."
"I have provided food and shelter for the night. Depart and cease to vex me with your presence, human!" The dragoness snarled.
Dave sighed.
"I just need a safe place to stay while I figure things out. In return, I'll be your friend and help you get rid of that annoying collar," he said sincerely.
"Out," the dragoness commanded, her scaled finger pointed imperiously towards the door.
Dave exhaled a heavy sigh.
"I get why you're hesitant. Maybe being trapped for so long made you forget what freedom feels like. But please believe that I only want to do what's best for both of us — to free you from your chains and help me survive."
Remicra fixed him with a fiery glare that made Dave rue the absence of a trusty fire extinguisher. "Do you truly presume that you can just conjure my freedom with a wave of your hand? That it's that easy? Listen up, idiot human: it's not!"
"Just give me a chance," Dave implored, his eyes locked onto hers. "I won't let you down. I'll happily do whatever jobs you need. In return..."
"No," Remicra huffed. "Out."
Dave's gaze fell to her clawed feet, which scratched at the floor with pent-up aggression, as if she longed to rend him asunder.
Before he could say another word, in a swift motion, the dragoness seized Dave and propelled him out the door. As he flew through the air he relocated everything into Agility and landed on his feet like a cat, expertly avoiding further bruises.
"Freaking acrobat," the dragoness huffed at his landing.
Dave looked at her, a nagging suspicion that he had overlooked something crucial gnawing at his thoughts. Shoving everything into Wisdom, he scanned the meadow, taking in his own footprints etched in the muddy path. He noted the tracks left by other boots, yet there was no trace of Remy's distinctive clawed footsteps past a certain perimeter.
"She is unable to leave the lighthouse," his mind arrived at the answer. "The ward and the collar must be confining her to a specific boundary surrounding it—approximately five meters outside the door."
Sherlock's violin sang in confirmation of this indubitable fact.
A sudden spark of inspiration ignited within Dave as he stepped forward and positioned himself just beyond the invisible boundary of the ward.
"Look," Dave gestured at the demarcation line, using Wisdom to try to adjust his tone to sound deeper and more convincing without resorting to use of Charisma magic. "I can go to places you can't. I can fetch things for you and bring whatever you want. I can even kill more metal bugs for you, or anything else. Isn't that valuable to you? I doubt that your owner would do all this for you. I can get any kind of food for you!"
The dragoness' violet-gold eyes glinted with a smoldering ire, and Dave mustered every ounce of his resolve to resist the instinctive urge to take a step back.
"Fine," Remicra finally conceded, her sharp teeth bared in a snarl. Her scales turned slightly gold and pink. "Buy some Wyrmak Oil and Arboria fruit from the market!"
She flashed back into the smithy and flung a pouch with a few coppers at his feet. Then, she retreated into the depths of the lighthouse, claws clicking against the stone floor.
Despite the lingering tension, Dave couldn't suppress a feeling of triumph reinforced by the jaunty tune of the violin.
"Alright, let's go find these items, shall we?" he declared mentally, putting everything into Strength and striding confidently down the muddy path.
As he checked inside the small bag offered by the dragoness, he discovered exactly seven coppers inside it.