WSP 026

Ploys of Darkness

“You’re not running and you aren’t attacking me,” Margaret observed. “That is a good sign.”

Jeh glanced between the black gari and Envila with uncertainty. “Isn’t Eyda the goddess of darkness and chaos?” Jeh asked Envila in Desc. “Like… evil?”

Envila frowned. “There are many different types of Gonal, even among those who revere the same goddess. Though I am forced to admit… the followers of Eyda do tend to have a certain bent to them.” She turned to Margaret, speaking in Karli. “I hope you can forgive us our… uncertainty.”

“I am not required to,” Margaret said. “But the offer to dine and rest with us remains. One cannot dispel the stigma—the belief you have about us without evidence or knowledge—without taking action. Our doors are always open, even to those who despise us.”

Jeh tilted her head to the side, clearly confused by the interaction.

“We… do need rest,” Envila admitted. “And a chance to talk to Gonal like you is a rare one.” She turned to Jeh, switching to Desc. “We must be careful, it is not uncommon for Eyda’s followers to lead travelers on for use in their rituals.”

“Should we… not go then?”

“Oh, of course not.” Envila smiled. “That would be rude, which we have been rude enough already.”

“Ah. Okay.” Jeh turned to Margaret and smiled, addressing her in Karli once more. “Take us into the creepy mini-mansion!”

Margaret’s soft smile returned. “Most would say that without excitement. I believe you will fit right in. Come.” With that, they walked up the path to the “mini-mansion.” The door beneath the hexagonal icon of Eyda was made from dark wood carved into complex geometric patterns not unlike a honeycomb. Inside two of the honeycombs were nondescript humanoid figures, each with a six-eyed mask held over their faces. There were words written over the top of the door, but it was in a language neither Envila nor Jeh knew.

Margaret pushed the doors open, revealing the interior. The place they entered was a main hall covered from the floor to the ceiling in various artistic paintings illuminated by what looked like oil lamps, except they emitted blue light. All the paintings were done largely with black and yellow paint, though it was not like other colors didn’t exist, these were just by far the most dominant. Images of shadowy figures in the dark recesses of forests with sharp piercing eyes, scenes of mysterious shrouded shapes with only the barest hints of form, unusual scenes of people standing beneath massive monoliths of darkness; such were the subjects that greeted them all along the hall.

“Such a vast collection…” Envila noted.

“I painted them all myself,” Margaret said.

“Wow. That’s… a lot,” Jeh said.

“You have quite a skill,” Envila added.

“Thank you. It comes with practice.” She quickly turned to the left. “The sitting room is this way. The lord of the house is most likely there.”

The sitting room was a smaller area that consisted of several couches and bookshelves arranged in front of a large window. There was only one painting in this room, that of a sunset being eclipsed by a figure with six wings and four arms, but otherwise all the space was used to store books. There were more books than shelves to put them on, so there were many haphazard stacks of the tomes everywhere. A single inhabitant occupied the room; an old human man dressed not in black, but in simple gray robes. His silver hair was wiry and unkempt, a state not helped by the presence of a mask on the side of his head, awkwardly forcing the hair to divert at an odd angle. The mask was smooth and had six eyes, no other features whatsoever. As it was not on his face, however, everyone got a good look at it—a large angular nose, deep-seated wrinkles, and a strangely soft-looking beard and mustache that were bushy enough to hide his mouth.

“Dad, we have guests,” Margaret said, notably in Karli.

“Ah, wonderful!” the man, presumably Jeremiah Rutherford, said as he jumped out of his chair with remarkable spryness and energy. “It has been a while since anyone dropped by!”

“You are forgetting the troop of slimes that passed through two weeks ago.”

“Oh, yes, them…” Jeremiah scratched the side of his head. “I vaguely remember something like that… anyway, that’s water under the bed. Bank? Bridge? I forget the idiom in Karli, but it doesn’t matter, what matters is that you two are here!”

“I’m Jeh, this is Envila,” Jeh said, introducing them. “Envila’s not the best at Karli, but she can probably figure out what’s being said.”

“I am quite effective,” Envila said. “…Wait, no, not effective, proficient? No, that’s too strong…”

“Adequate?” Jeh suggested. “It means ‘capable’ or ‘meeting expectations.’ “

“Maybe. It sounds like it works.”

“I shall go prepare dinner,” Margaret said, bowing slightly to everyone. “Please, enjoy yourselves until then.” She gracefully walked off, leaving them with Jeremiah.

Jeremiah chuckled. “I would be just an old, lonely man without her around. Anyway… you two, sit, relax. No malevolent creature of darkness is going to jump out and eat you.” He reclined in his chair, giving them all a knowing smile. “Yes, the concern is written all over your faces.”

“And yet you do not seem to mind,” Envila said as she sat down. “Why is that?”

“I’m too old to care what people think about me anymore,” Jeremiah said with a laugh. “Call me the portent of doom itself, I don’t mind at all. I am what I am, nobody’s thoughts about me can change that.”

“A… well position.”

“Not versed in Karli, are ya? Shame, I get the feeling you’d be an interesting one to banter with. …Banter, go back and forth in a game of words for enjoyment.”

“Ah, yes, it is one of my favorite things to do when I can,” Envila smiled. “Mastery over language comes with many benefits, all it takes is time.”

“Something your kind have plenty of.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re older than me, aren’t you?” Jeremiah chuckled. “I wonder how much you’ve seen…”

“I was born during the Second Catastrophe.”

Jeremiah whistled. “Well well, I bet you know some things that everyone is dying to know!”

“I have no memories of the time besides pain, unfortunately, so the… uh… smart people who want to know things—”

“Academics,” Jeh offered.

“Yes, academics. They are generally very disappointed.”

Miranda returned at that moment not with food, but with four cups of tea. “To tide you over.” She took one cup herself and returned to the kitchen.

Jeh immediately grabbed one of the teacups and started drinking. She ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth, discovering it to be a bit more than just tea, with some hints of mushroom and fruit. “Mmm…”

“Miranda crafts custom teas herself,” Jeremiah said. “She’s a culinary artist as well as a visual one.”

Envila looked closely at the tea for a while, thinking.

“Worried it’s poisoned? Or cursed?” Jeremiah asked.

Envila frowned. “I have been greeted in similar ways before. Not always by Gonal. But often enough.” She picked up the teacup. “However… I believe I have judged your character rightly.” She took a sip.

Jeremiah sat back. “It really is a shame what kinds of people we get.”

“Are you sure it is a shame, or just a pattern?”

Jeremiah chuckled. “Ah, I should have expected as much! The traveling fae has thought about things!”

“Um, can you guys explain what you’re talking about?” Jeh asked.

Jeremiah chuckled. “Perhaps such things should not be discussed in front of children…”

“She can handle it,” Envila said. “She may be young, but she has a great… ability. Also I may need her to translate some things.”

Jeh beamed. “I word good!” She laughed at her own joke.

“Very well…” Jeremiah leaned forward. “Jeh, Envila and I are discussing the Gonal religion, specifically the followers of Eyda. What do you know about Eyda?”

“She is the goddess of darkness and chaos,” Jeh said. “And the Gonal believe she is one of four goddesses.”

“And what do you believe?”

Jeh pondered this for a moment. “I… think I’m an Aware?” She rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “I don’t really think about it that much.”

“Which is fine,” Jeremiah said. “I was just looking to see where you were coming from. The Aware have a history of looking down on the Gonal, and especially the followers of Eyda. While Eyda is, truthfully, the goddess of darkness and chaos, these are not Her primary traits. She can be more accurately described as the goddess of the individual.” He looked up at the painting of the figure in front of the sunset. “Those who choose to serve Her are, in turn, given power to make their dreams come true. Eyda places the power of the individual heart above all else. Do you want power? Fame? Happiness? She will provide, so long as you serve Her. However, you might notice that the kinds of people who seek power or fame wish to lord it over others. This is what Envila was alluding to, that among the followers of Eyda are tyrants and cruel dictators. Many won’t admit that, but I will. Eyda is the goddess of the individual, and the individual can use that however they wish, even to dark ends.”

Jeh frowned. “She doesn’t sound like she’s thinking this through.”

Jeremiah chuckled. “You are quite lucky you are talking to me, others of our order would find that comment worthy of smiting.”

Jeh smirked. “Oh, they can try.”

“Interesting response, I’ll have to figure out where that confidence of yours comes from. Regardless, I do not believe Eyda is ‘not thinking this through.’ She is wise beyond understanding, she simply understands that the essence of the self is the highest. Dreams, hopes, and ideals change from person to person, culture to culture, so only that within the core of one can be accessed as a real truth, all else is subjective.”

Jeh frowned. “I don’t like that.”

Jeremiah laughed. “Feisty! Why not, little one?”

“Then I couldn’t be mad at the plast dragon for trying to kill us.”

“Who said that? The individual nature of the plast dragon doesn’t have to matter to you unless you want it to. You are free to be as mad at anyone as you wish, for any reason.”

“But sometimes when I’m mad it feels wrong…”

“Then that is what is inside you, that is your self. To be mad at certain things is wrong in your self, and Eyda would give you the power to adjust that anger away and, perhaps, even bring it to others, should that be what you desire.”

Jeh wrinkled her nose as she had difficulty thinking deeper on the subject. “Eh…”

“I think the fact that so many followers of Eyda turn to what most would call ‘evil’ is evidence of the faulty nature of this philosophy,” Envila said.

“Who said what was true had to be ‘good?’ “ Jeremiah asked.

“It is a basic assumption built into spirited nature, that the truth is worthy of being sought after.”

“And who said that we were designed for good?”

Envila smirked. “Clearly you’ve thought about this as well.”

“Quite. And, as you may note, my desire is not to become a powerful lord or leader of armies. I just want to live peacefully in my cabin and have interesting conversations with people from the world over, showing them kindness and getting them to think a little more.”

“Most people are not like you, unfortunately.”

“Yes, it is unfortunate… but see, we agree on that. Those conquerors certainly don’t. Eyda will elevate them as much as me, for Eyda sees where that which is worthwhile truly comes from. The spirit itself.”

“None of this was in the book…” Jeh said, scratching her head.

“Your book was probably written by an Aware,” Envila said. “Prejudice is hard to remove, even in an academic setting.”

“Hmm…”

At this point, Margaret returned once more. “It is time to move to the dining room, the appetizer is ready.”

“Oooh! Food! Where is it?”

Margaret smiled. “Right this way.”

~~~

Pepper stormed into the Palace’s East wing, her halo burning twice as bright as usual just to make it clear to everyone who passed by what her mood was at the moment. Her face was in a rather uncharacteristic scowl and her hands were balled into fists. She tried to kick open the door—but it was a pull door, something she could have deduced since it led outside, but the throbbing in her foot did not slow her much as she threw the door open.

Within was the entrance to the Palace dungeons. The area was made largely of stone without much in the way of furnishings, for it really wasn’t supposed to look nice or be comfortable, it was a place to lock criminals or suspected criminals away for a time. It wasn’t used all that often these days, there was a proper jail elsewhere in Axiom, but there was still an occasional need to put certain types of criminals in the stony depths.

The entrance was rather basic, all things considered: a single room that led to a stairwell. Between Pepper and the stairwell was a single table and chair manned by a young Royal Guard—a neko woman who was busy doing some kind of paperwork.

Pepper moved to walk right past her.

“Uh, ma’am?”

Pepper scowled at her. “I am Wizard Pepper of the Red Tower.”

“L-l-look, ma’am, I still can’t just l-let you in…” The poor neko was quaking in her boots.

Pepper reached into her robes and pulled out a silver sigil with a Red crystal embedded in it that indicated her office as a wizard of the Academy with admittedly rather impressive credentials.

“U-uh I b-believe who you are, ma’am, but o-our p-p-pr-pr—” she kept tripping over the word, restarting it, and was unable to continue.

Pepper’s scowl softened and she let out a sigh. “…Take your time.”

The junior guard paused, swallowed, and continued. “Our pr-pr-prisoner is a s-suspect in the m-murder of a r-royal.” She pulled out a page from her stack of papers and set it in front of Pepper so she could read it. “Y-you do not have the au-authority to see the pr-prisoner.”

Pepper glanced at the page, noting that it did have that policy clearly written out. “Look, kid, there—”

“I am n-n-not letting you in.” She, rather adorably, stood up and crossed her arms, blocking the way.

Pepper blinked. “You do know I could throw you down those stairs and probably not face any consequences for it, right?”

“D-doesn’t matter. R-rules are r-rules.”

Pepper stared at the junior guard intently for about thirty seconds. Then she broke out into a warm smile. “You do your job well. And as furious as I am, I’m not going to oppose the rules.” She glanced to the side, looking a little ashamed. “I probably would have without you here, to be honest…” She sighed. “Keep up the good work. Make sure nobody who isn’t supposed to go down there goes down there. I’m pretty sure the Princesses will be down here soon.”

“Wh-why?”

“Blue’s their good friend, that’s why.”

“Ah…” the guard frowned. “Then… then who did the m-murder? She was the only one there!”

Pepper shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t her, and the Princesses are going to agree with me. Show them right in, you hear?”

“W-well if they ask I can’t exactly refuse…”

“Good girl.” Pepper gave her a salute and left. The moment she was outside she pressed her back into the wall and slid down until she was sitting on the ground. “I almost threw that poor girl down the stairs, what is wrong with me?”

~~~

The stairwell to the dungeons was wide and dark. The only way in, and the only way out. Easy to defend in case there was a breakout, and long enough that any prisoner with unusual abilities wouldn’t be able to make an attack on the guard on duty even if said prisoner could get out of the cell. Which was generally not an option seeing as the cells were solid reinforced steel with only a single grating window in it that couldn’t fit a human head.

At least the cell was spacious. It was intended to hold very large prisoners, so Blue had plenty of room. She didn’t have much light, but her horn solved that problem. She was currently using a loose piece of rubble to scratch into the stone walls. Originally she had just done this to organize her thoughts, making a diagram of the murder so she could analyze what happened and maybe clear her name.

It had become clear very quickly that wasn’t going to be possible, she simply didn’t have enough information. She really had been sitting there at work for hours. She hadn’t even gone to the bathroom; she’d told her body to suck it up and wait until she was done! Not a single break, not a single memory of anything happening outside her work.

Her father had always told her that her obliviousness would get her in trouble one day…

She really didn’t like thinking about that so she gave up clearing her name as a lost cause and just started working on math once again. She couldn’t do anything particularly long-form on the walls, but she could get some base ideas out, try a few new theories, see if she could establish any new connections. At the moment she was attempting to find an easier way to run her calculations. Many of her results clearly had smooth, distinct patterns to them, there had to be a way to determine those results without going step-by-step. The end was simple and there were clear patterns…

If only there were a way to do all the steps at once. That would be great. And to make them as small as she wanted, maximum precision. There had to be a way…

How are you able to do this? You just saw a dead woman, Blue.

Blue tried to push the thought out of her mind, but it was a persistent one.

You actually feel good that she’s dead, don’t you? You did hate her quite a bit, didn’t you? Annoying, arrogant, stuck-up, pretentious, domineering… now you never have to deal with her again!

Blue scratched numbers into the stone walls with an increased fury.

Sure, you didn’t actually kill her… but would you have? If given the opportunity? And a guarantee that no one would ever find out?

“That’s a lie,” she told herself. Even though the thought was a question, she knew where it led, what the conclusion was. As horribly uncertain as she was of herself right now, she did know one thing with absolute certainty.

She wasn’t a murderer.

So she told that thought to stuff it and go die in a hole.

Which, to be fair, it did, but that didn’t stop the rest of the thoughts from screaming in her head at what seemed to her to be an absurd volume. You wanted her dead. You should be grieving. You want to be celebrating. You feel nothing for her. She got what she deserved.

“Oh would you just SHUT UP!?” She threw the rock across the room.

It bounced off something invisible.

Blue’s heart immediately leapt into her throat. She instinctually increased the brightness of her horn which, while it did make her nearly blind, made it obvious that there was a Purple illusion field active—the area where she’d thrown the rock took a half-second longer to light up than the rest of the room.

Her mind raced. There was something invisible in there with her. It was something that had to be able to move, since she had scrawled mathematics on the wall behind it earlier. She was not alone. Who knew how long she hadn’t been alone? Had it been in here when she was thrown in?

The invisible thing apparently decided there was no point in hiding anymore, for it dropped the cloak—but not all at once. First, the feet, each large enough to grab Blue in the rubbery rim. The shocking whiteness of the skin popped out of the natural shadows of the dungeon, but it was not a welcome light of rescue, more akin to an omen of final judgment. The strong, smooth, clearly plast legs came next, until they connected with a main body that actually glowed, casting the entire cell in the light of many colors, bright happy colors that did not belong in a cell and did not belong in a scene with a great monster. Two angular, fin-like wings protruded from the creature’s rippling back, the sharp claw-like ends revealing themselves to be pointed right at Blue’s neck from both ends.

The head came last. Five eyes of burning magenta. Glowing rings pulsating across the lower jaw. Curled horns that seemed to be directed right at Blue’s eyes. Lips that were jagged and razor-sharp, leading to a mouth cavity that rippled with mesmerizing swirls of color.

Blue knew what this was. A kancathi. A plast dragon.

She knew she was dead.

So when she wasn’t run through by the kancathi’s claws a moment later, her fear was momentarily replaced with bafflement and confusion. This didn’t make any sense! How did a plast dragon get down here? Why was a kancathi being stealthy? Why wasn’t Blue already dead? None of this added up!

It started adding up even less when the plast dragon started talking to her. Not with a voice, for kankathi had no precise vocal cords despite their sound and vibration-related attributes, but through Purple, writing literal words in the air. In Karli.

Telling me to shut up? Audacious. The beast’s grin widened.

It took Blue a minute to rewind the clock and remember that she had shouted “shut up” and thrown the rock. That was kind of funny. She could see why the plast dragon was smiling.

At this point, fear kicked back in again and Blue folded her ears back and she pushed herself as far into the wall as she could to get away from the beast that could kill her in an instant and wasn’t for some reason. Clearly, the beast wanted something.

“Wh-what are you going to do with me?” Blue asked.

Bait. The plast dragon ran a wing across Blue’s face and down her neck. That should be good news for you! Smile! You get to live!

“B-bait…?” The already-present sinking feeling in Blue’s stomach became full on nausea. “For who…?”

I don’t have to tell you. The plast dragon reeled back from Blue and sat down in the corner. Then, suddenly, the behemoth stood up and started pacing. I could though. I could tell you. You are no danger. No danger. No danger. The kancathi just kept writing the same words over and over and over again in the air. Almost like it was impossible to write anything else.

Suddenly, the plast dragon lashed out, clawing at a rock in the wall. The colors on its chest flared up in complexity, no doubt carrying with it some meaning in the kancathi tongue. Then all motion stopped, and the beast returned its attention to Blue. My apologies, there was no way for you to get that. I was expressing extreme annoyance at—the words in Karli vanished, replaced only by a complex pattern of flashing colors in the air. –apologies. Happened again. We’ll get through this, though, you and I. I think I won’t tell you. So I will. It all started… but is there even a start?

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Blue that this kancathi was legitimately insane.

She had no idea if this was a good thing or a bad thing. The insanity might have been all that was keeping her alive right now. But she could easily see it turning against her, making the kancathi lash out, severing her head from her body…

She swallowed. “H-how about we start with how you’re in this cell?”

How? By existing in space! Yes, space… or air. Why do we need two different words? Karli is such a terrible communication method. Atrocious. Banal… and so began the rant about how terrible Karli was as a language, written in Karli using Purple. It might have been funny if it wasn’t given by a monstrosity known for the brutal hunting of anything and everything for sport.

And the two of them were the only things in the cell.

~~~

Jeh, Envila, and Jeremiah entered the house’s dining room, and what a room it was. The central table was carved out of a wood so dark it might well have been black. It was circular in shape with a rotating section in the middle so dishes could be easily passed to everyone seated, which was definitely necessary considering the table was so large that it could easily sit over a dozen people. However, there were only four, and the places set were all next to each other rather than at opposite sides of the table, leaving the majority of it devoid of food. That said, it was not devoid of decoration, for Margaret had set out numerous lamps. The majority of them were like the lamps dotted across the house, including the walls of the dining room itself—blue flame coming from some kind of special oil. However, there were other colors as well—candles of orange and green, glowing mushrooms in little pots that illuminated the scene with purples and yellows, and some kind of fern-like plast that shimmered with flickers of red. All the actual food was currently covered, but the guests could smell the aromas of freshly cooked mushrooms, plast-fruits, and what were clearly special spices but not anything either Jeh or Envila had smelled before.

The walls, meanwhile, were decorated not with Margaret’s paintings nor a large quantity of books, but rather hexagonal patterns made to stand out for they were made of pressed gold that glinted in the multicolored lights, almost looking like they floated in darkness considering how black everything else was. At the four corners of the room stood identical statues on top of small pedestals. They had the vague appearance of large ravens, but had six golden eyes each, hooked beaks, and six talons on each foot. What would have been a somewhat menacing aura was almost completely offset by the cute hat that all four of the statues were wearing, a round blob-shaped thing with a stupidly happy smile that looked like it might have come out of some child’s random scrawlings in the dirt.

“What are these?” Envila asked.

“That is Krikkok, the guardian of the house,” Margaret said. “He is Eyda’s gift to protect us from the dangers of the wilds in which we live.”

“Is Kirkkok the bird or the hat?”

“Yes,” Jeremiah said with a wry grin, sitting down in his chair. It was exactly the same as all the other chairs but in the middle. Margaret sat down to his left, Envila to his right, and Jeh next to Envila.

Margaret pulled out an Orange crystal and carefully levitated the coverings off of their food. She clearly wasn’t the most skilled at Orange magic since this took visible effort from her and wasn’t exactly a quick maneuver, but it was careful and purposeful. The food beneath may have smelled good before, but now as the aroma hit them fully, it made both Jeh and Envila’s mouths water—quite a feat, considering the noticeable differences between their species’ tastes. To make dishes that, when mixed, appealed to the senses of all present was a challenge for even the most professional of chefs, and here in this estate in the middle of nowhere Margaret had pulled it off.

The primary dish of the evening was some kind of mushroom bake with dozens of different colorful species cut up into squares—many of which were outright glowing—and resting in a thick but completely clear sauce that smelled fruity but not sweet. Little pink nuggets of plast fruits floated amidst the mushroom chunks, as well as a variety of vegetables and some kind of herb that grew in thin blue lines.

To the side there was a small bowl of freshly cooked meat, evidently of some kind of bird. In all honesty it wasn’t really impressive.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Margaret!” Jeremiah said with a laugh.

Margaret smirked. “I do my best work when under the most unusual of circumstances. Now, for our guests, this is a variation on my traditional rainbow stew, made specifically to be palatable to both humans and plasts. The sauce is our special recipe, I discovered it myself about a decade ago mixing different mushroom oils and fruit extracts together. We call it liquid crystal sauce, and you will find it nowhere else since only Dad and I know how to make it.”

“And my old hands aren’t steady enough to do it right!”

“You got that right…” Margaret chuckled softly. “I have added beadrins, the plast dots, for they are known to be a plast food that breaks down in human digestion that also tastes good, but provides the necessary nutrients for plasts themselves. And I have set the meat off to the side, for we have a fae present.”

Jeh looked nervously at Envila. “Eheh…”

“Survival situations require going outside the comfort zone, you did fine,” Envila assured her.

Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. “You could keep meat down? I thought all fae puked their guts the moment they had any!”

“It’s amazing what you can do when you have no choice.”

“You must have an iron stomach to go with that will!”

“Please stop talking about puking at the dinner table…” Margaret asked.

“Oh, right, uh, sorry.” Jeremiah laughed. “Though something tells me you’re the only one getting queasy here!”

“Yes… Exactly…”

“Can we eat yet?” Jeh asked, hand hovering over the ladle to dish out the rainbow stew.

“I’m surprised you’re waiting!” Jeremiah chuckled.

Jeh quickly grabbed the ladle and filled up her bowl, noting that many of the ingredients changed colors when they were disturbed, and the liquid crystal sauce shimmered with little pinpricks as it floated down into her bowl. She found the way the sauce dripped off the ladle like syrup simply delightful.

“I didn’t introduce the drink yet…” Margaret said. “Oh, well, I do suppose there does not need to be an order to this. It’s just strawberry juice.” A mildly haunted look came over her face. “It’s always strawberry juice. We have too many strawberries. Too many…”

“Good thing strawberry juice is delicious!” Jeremiah laughed.

“It’s not easy to extract juice from strawberries! The fact that we have enough to make juice all the time should be a concern!”

“Not how I see it!”

“You would.”

Envila smiled warmly. “How long have you two been family?”

Margaret smiled warmly. “Forty-seven years. He adopted me when I was only eleven.”

“Girl came from a tribe that got completely wiped out by some wheelers,” Jeremiah said. Seeing Envila and Jeh’s confused expressions, he explained. “Wheelers are rigids with six wheels, very large. I hear some people can use them as mounts. The wheelers that were around here were conquerors for glory, though, and were just… terrible.”

“I don’t remember much of them,” Margaret added. “So don’t think this drums up bad experiences for me. I lived in the wilderness alone for a few years until Jeremiah took me in. I thought he wanted to cook me up and eat me.”

“I still might. You’re not fat enough yet.”

“You are the worst cannibalistic hermit ever. Trying to fatten up a poor girl and she happens to be a garilend.” She swapped to a language that neither Jeh nor Envila could understand to tell a joke, one that was evidently hilarious and made Jeremiah laugh so hard it was hard for him to breathe. Margaret simply smiled wryly and took a drink of her strawberry juice.

Jeh raised a hand. “Can I ask why that was so funny?”

Margaret spat out her drink trying to hold in a laugh. “Well… it was a pun… and at your expense… and doesn’t translate well at all… and was actually in two languages at once… so uh…”

“Sometimes a joke is only for certain people,” Envila said.

Jeh shrugged, shoveling more rainbow stew into her mouth. She remembered that the meat existed and threw some of it into the stew and stirred it around. It made it taste… different, not any worse or better.

“By the way,” Envila tilted her head. “I did not see any livestock, merely gardens. What game did you hunt for the meat?”

Margaret thought about it. “I actually don’t know if it has a name, it’s a green bird that lives around here. I’ve recently started hunting it specifically since it tastes good, but about a month ago we had no idea it was so worthwhile.”

“You hunt?”

“I did live in the wilderness alone for a few years as a child, it was kind of a necessary skill.”

“The huntress artist chef!” Jeh said, holding her hands wide. “That’s it, it’s official, you’re awesome.”

“Why, thank you!” Margaret said, smiling brightly.

“So…” Jeremiah said, leaning in. “I’ve been holding this in a while, but I don’t think I can anymore. I am simply dying of curiosity. What is your two’s story?”

Jeh opened her mouth to start rambling, but quickly shut it. Frowning, she turned to Envila, talking in Desc. “Should I keep myself a secret? How… much can we say?”

“I recommend keeping your power secret, but other than that, I think these are good people.” Envila turned to Jeremiah, switching back to Karli. “Before Jeh starts her rant, I do want to apologize for judging you wrongly through pri… pre… prejudice.” She was clearly mildly annoyed that it took her so long to remember the word.

“It is understandable, think nothing of it.”

“Understandable or not, it was still wrong to judge, and I ask your forgiveness.”

Jeremiah sat back and shook his head. “You people… sure, yes, all is forgiven.”

“Good. In that case… Jeh? I believe you want to tell them a story.”

“So!” Jeh said, slamming her fists into the ground. “Do you two know what space is?”

And so, Jeh told her story. She left out any part about her being found in the forest and jumped right into working with the Wizard Space Program, talking about she was the ace pilot that took a glass jar so high up she could see stars. She described the satellite mission, being shot down, and then her mission to journey back to Karli, followed by a brief summary of her adventures across the Shinelands, ending with the Western Ch’eni’tho’s mission.

She pulled the book out of her pack and set it on the table with a loud thump. “Here’s what we’re delivering to Kroan.”

“A rigid disease of organized madness…” Jeremiah scratched his chin. “I’ve never heard of such a thing…”

“We’ve also never heard of space,” Margaret pointed out.

“Well, yes, but that didn’t seem as… out there.” He held out a hand for the large tome. “May I?”

Jeh slid it over. “We have a backup, so sure.”

While Jeremiah started flipping through the book, Margaret turned to Jeh. “So… I… what’s it like? Up… there? Past the birds?”

Jeh beamed. “It is the most incredible thing I have ever experienced. You cut the engines, and you know you’re falling, but you don’t feel it. You just… float there, in the middle of your tiny jar, among the stars. It feels like… there’s nothing holding you down. It’s… free up there. I may be trapped in a jar, but I can take that jar anywhere I want. One day, we’ll make the ships good enough to go to anywhere. The moon. The planets. Maybe even the stars…” Her eyes sparkled. “I can’t even imagine what kind of wonders will be up there… and I can’t wait to find out.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Margaret was entranced. “Wow…”

“Hey, you know what? You like drawing dark things in your paintings. Well, space is dark, very dark, but it’s filled with stars! And round things, like Ikyu and the moon and the sun… wait, you don’t have a telescope do you?”

“I’m not even sure what one looks like, even though you’ve described it.”

“Which means you don’t know that the planets are more than just pricks of light! They have size and shape just like the moon. Uh… agh, my memory’s terrible, let me see if I can think of it… Hexi is the weird one, its lumpy, not spherical…”

“Lumpy?”

“Yeah, on Vaughan’s big star chart it looks like of like an oval, but not exactly perfect. It’s also really far away so it’s hard to see well, though. Then… uh… Qi has mini-planets near it, little blips that move around but never go far from it. Apparently that was a very recent discovery, though.”

“Discoveries…” Margaret leaned in closer. “What… other new things have you learned?”

“Well, I already talked about the satellite… oh, I think I forgot about the air restorer! See, when you breathe, you use up something in the air. But we discovered that you can use Green to restore it, so you can breathe the same air forever! It leaves behind this black stuff if you do it for a long time and we’re not sure why, but it works great!”

“Amazing. Simply… amazing.”

Jeremiah closed the book. “I agree, this is deeply concerning, but clearly the Ch’eni’tho have done their homework. This is a very real threat.” He turned to Envila. “I would like to ask Eyda about it for you.”

Envila tensed. “I… will not participate.”

“You do not have to; I understand that as an Aware you are called to serve Dia and Dia alone. But I am a servant of Eyda, and I can make a request. Perhaps I will be granted knowledge that can be a boon to you.”

Envila frowned slightly. “…Very well. I will trust you.”

“Thank you.” Carefully, Jeremiah pulled a small emblem out of his pocket, one marked with a black hexagon inlaid with a similarly shaped citrine gemstone. He saw Envila’s reaction. “You’ve seen one of these before.”

Envila swallowed hard. “Not many… but it has always been unpleasant.”

“What is it?” Jeh asked.

“It is a summoning sigil. Eyda’s Gonal use them to summon her… well, what we would call demons.”

“Do not fear,” Jeremiah said. “We are no proud warrior servants of Eyda, we do not have access to such power. All we have… is Kirkkok.” He held out his hand. The sigil flashed black. Immediately a rush of black feathers emerged from the central citrine, feathers that dissipated into nothingness the moment they touched anything physical. In the middle of the feathery storm the shape of a bird took form—the exact same bird as was shown in the statues surrounding the dining table, complete with the six piercing eyes, though these eyes were not gold but a sharp neon yellow. The bird’s “hat” had the consistency of a slime and actually did have the dumb smiley face on it, though it too was the bright piercing yellow color.

The bird-demon set down on the table and let out a caw that reverberated with numerous different pitches and tones. The actual voice came from the slime “hat”, but its “mouth” didn’t open and close to speak, it vibrated like a string. His voice was both low and high pitched, but somehow carried with it a sense of carefree whimsy and curiosity. It was also hard to listen to with such tonal dissonance.

“Jeremiah! Margaret! Ah, and guests!” Kirkkok tapped his claws on the table excitedly. “Oh you rarely summon me in front of guests, this is quite the treat!”

Envila was glaring at the bird, not even attempting to hide her distrust. Jeh, meanwhile, stared at the bird with wide eyes. “Woah… how… how did you do that? That’s awesome magic!”

“Ah ah ah!” Kirkkok let out a few clicks and caws. “You misunderstand, little one! I am not what you think of as magic… actually wait I have no idea what you think of as magic, hold on, let me check.” The smiley face on the slime hat shifted until it became a single yellow eye that stared deeply into Jeh. “…Okay you’re not at all what I was expecting, huh. Anyway, uh, seeing as you’re wondering if I’m like you and I don’t know what you are then I guess our little questioning session here has been completely fruitless! What do you know!” His eye reverted back to a silly smiley face.

Margaret blinked. “You don’t know what she is?”

“Oh, yes Margaret! She is quite the—”

“You are not here to probe into our guest’s secrets,” Jeremiah, said, glaring at him.

“Oh, of course, apologies master Jeremiah, I shall remove the information immediately. …Done!”

“Very good.”

Jeh blinked. “He can read minds?”

“What’s so strange about that?” Kirkkok asked. “The Yellow magic allows for connections between the very souls of beings. Who’s to say that a lesser mental connection could not be forged? Even with one unwilling?”

“I am… suddenly a lot less thrilled with you. But you are still a cool bird.”

“Thank you little squishy one! May the blood in your veins run for a day longer than they otherwise would have!”

“…Thanks…?”

“Anyway, am I here for entertainment, or is there some purpose, master Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah slid the large tome over to Kirkkok. “I wish to know more about the curse described in these pages.”

“Oooh, information! Well, let’s see… I can tell you immediately this isn’t one of Our Goddess’ curses, I’d be able to feel it. So… hmm…” He used his claws to flip through the pages of the book, all the while his smiley face twisted back into an eye, staring intently at the pages. “My this is quite fascinating… yes, they really are all connected, though I do not see a purpose or drive behind them at this moment… hmm, whatever the origin is, it lies deep within the Shinelands, it might be too far for me to properly dowse… oh oh oh, juicy, how cruel, their souls are fully in-tact, will and everything! Devious.”

“Ah… it is beyond you.” Jeremiah sighed sadly. “I am sorry, my friends, I was hoping to give you some information, but all I have done is make you uncomfortable.”

“They could stand to have their experiences widened a bit,” Kirkkok said.

Envila stared at Kirkkok intently. “I was entirely unaware that there were nonviolent members of Eyda’s court. I am quite glad I’ve had this experience; it gives me greater understanding of how people can serve such an entity.”

Jeh tilted her head to the side. “He still feels… off.”

“I agree.”

“That off-ness you describe…” Margaret closed her eyes. “It is the sense of the divine. It touches a part of you the physical world does not.”

Kirkkok snorted and cawed at the same time. “Sure, if you want to think like that…” He flipped another page and suddenly the eye in his slime hat became much larger. “Oh my!”

“Found something?” Jeremiah asked.

“…Indeed.” The eye in his slime-hat shifted into a crosshair. He whirled around and pointed it at Jeh. A burst of dark energy emerged.

Margaret jumped in front of it. “Kirkkok, no!” Kirkkok was unable to stop and the dark energy hit her right in the shoulder. Her flesh was eaten right off and the bone of her shoulder was exposed. She was thrown off the table, spilling the pot of rainbow stew all over the ground. She let out an agonized wail.

“KIRKKOK!” Jeremiah shouted with a pure, unbridled, rage that had not been seen on his face prior to this. “You will not attack my guests and you will NOT HARM MY DAUGHTER!”

“She, but, uh. How. Uh.”

Envila suddenly had her Orange hammer pressed to Kirkkok’s neck. “You might want to listen to your master, bird.”

Jeh leaped out of her chair and pulled out some Green, using it to restore Margaret’s shoulder. At first, the magic didn’t seem to work, and there were little black fires all over the wound—but the fires dissipated, and then the flesh started to reform. It was, however, a large wound and took a lot of will from Jeh to patch up fully.

Jeh smiled. “Thanks for… taking a hit you didn’t need to.”

“You didn’t have to heal me either,” Margaret said as she stood up. “Thank you. Now…” She joined Envila in threatening Kirkkok, directing the spike on her left gauntlet right at the bird-demon’s chest. “Care to explain Kirkkok?”

“I had to! They’ve put you in danger! If I didn’t take care of them right then and prove ourselves we… oh no…”

The northern wall exploded, showering the room in rubble and debris. A Ch’eni’tho remerged from the hole, electric orbs sparking intently.

“Please…” he droned. “Please, kill us, before we kill you…”

~~~

How silly of me, the plast dragon wrote in the air, face uncomfortably close to Blue’s own.

“Oh n-no you’re not silly…” Blue said, swallowing hard as the kancathi’s head moved back and forth, as if unable to decide to slam right into Blue or run away in panic.

Yes! Correct! But I did forget your question!

“Question…?”

Without warning, the plast dragon’s claws rammed into the ground and latched onto a stone slab. With considerable effort, the slab tilted up, revealing a tunnel in the ground large enough for the plast dragon to fit through.

“What in the…?”

A perfect plan needs perfect preparation!

“There’s no way you did this…”

Correct! Blue thought the beast looked furious, but no aggressive moves were taken. I forced a dwarf to dig it for me.

“…A what?”

Exactly why it worked, nobody here has ever heard of a dwarf. Blue did not know how to describe the guttural, pulsating noise that came after that. Was it a laugh? A groan? Some emotion that she’d never thought needed to be expressed? It was impossible, her captor was just too alien. He wasn’t very tasty. Did you know they’re rigids? Oh, wait, of course you didn’t, you don’t even know what a dwarf is. Ha! I know at least twice as much as you do! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! The plast dragon continued to write out laughing sound effects in the air, accompanying each one with an entirely different throat noise, giving Blue no information whatsoever as to the meaning behind the sounds.

Blue decided to just let the “laughing” continue. Maybe the insanity would get the kancathi stuck in a loop and nothing would happen until a guard came down to check on her and… who was she kidding, the kancathi may have been insane, but the evidence of a tunnel under the cell that nobody knew about indicated intelligence. Blue could be talked to because Blue was bait. What was she going to do? Tell someone the plan?

…Whatever the plan was. Clearly, her captor had wanted her imprisoned, and then wanted to be in the same cell as her for some reason. That reason wasn’t her though, it was to bait someone. Bait who, exactly? She started mentally going through a list in her head, though the internal fear of the monster in front of her kept her from trimming it down very far.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. HA. Can you hear it?

The sudden existence of actual words shocked Blue. “Hear what?”

The song. The beast growled, clearly intending to mimic a musical tone, but as kancathi vocal cords were incapable of speech, they were also incapable of song, so it was just a series of growls, all at the same pitch. Can you hear the melody? The melody that must be sung?

Blue tilted her head. “I… n-no…”

I must sing. I must sing. I must… the plast dragon tried again, letting out a series of timed growls, this time flashing chest lights in time, each light no doubt corresponding to a different note, but not in a way Blue was familiar with. Nonetheless, her brain was curious, and started sifting through songs she’d heard recently, trying to match the beat and different notes… but she was no music theorist and she was utterly terrified of the monster before her, so this didn’t go anywhere. It was a welcome distraction, though.

Useless! The plast dragon lashed out, throwing Blue to the side. Even though there had been no intent to harm Blue, she was small in comparison and hit the wall hard enough to bruise. Not you. You are useful. As bait. And what lucrative bait you are… A genius, played like a toy.

“Fat lot of good my brain did to get me in this mess…”

You? You blaming yourself! Hilarious! There was nothing you could have done, my work was perfect. The kill was silent, but made to look like it wasn’t. The death was brutal, chosen to be a time when only you were there. Every step of the hunt. Precise. Calculated. Perfect! PERFECT!

Suddenly the kancathi’s foot was on Blue, pressing her into the ground with an air-tight seal, leaving her head exposed to allow her to breathe.

It’s perfect, right? This is the best hunt that a kackathi has ever taken! Those fools with the rules. I had to break them, you see, I had to. The hunt needed to change. How can they be so blind? Do you know?

“N-nobody knows anything about kancathi rules…”

Why would you? I know! You can see how we act. How we hunt. You’ve been part of the hunts, I can tell. You lived. The other must have died, by your hand or by the others. There is no tolerance. Nor should there be. Except for me! I’m special. I have to be. I have to be. I have to be. There was a long pause of nothing. Slowly, the kancathi’s foot lifted from Blue and the beast turned away from her.

If they knew where I was, I would be dead.

“Then… why are you here?”

The hunt. I hear the voice of the hunt. I must complete it at all costs. The dragon whirled back onto Blue. If the rules impede me, the rules must be burned! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Blue realized that the beast definitely wasn’t laughing now—that was the timing of the song. Another attempt at replication.

Once I get them all they’ll see. All my brothers and sisters, they will see. You see, don’t you…?

“I… don’t even know what you’re hunting.”

Some genius! Think, little unicorn. You are bait. I’m after someone else. This is a very particular type of prison for only the most offensive of crimes. Who cares about you and has the authority to come down here? A cold, dark, supposedly safe place.

Blue’s eyes widened. “No…”

Far above them, the Royal Guard stood up. “I-I’m sorry, you can’t just go see the prisoner!”

Tenrayce Kroan flashed her royal sigil. “I believe you need to reexamine your assertion.”

“Tenii, be nice to her,” Via chided.

“I am understandably not in the mood.”

As they passed down the stairs, Via turned to the Royal Guard. “Sorry about that, it’s been a rough day. I’ll be sure your commended for your devotion or… something.” She gave a salute and followed after her sister.

Into the darkness below.

~~~

The first of them to react was Kirkkok, because he had known what was coming. The Ch’eni’tho was subject to a burst of darkness that melted right through the metal hinges on two of his limbs. This prompted him to fall over, but before his glass orbs shattered on the ground, he released a bolt of lightning that struck Kirkkok dead on. With a loud reverberating squawk, he was thrown into the back wall and splattered against it like he was made of nothing more than ink.

However, he had done it, the Ch’eni’tho was down.

But there were three others outside, alongside another kind of rigid Jeh hadn’t seen before, but was clearly the wheeler she had heard about recently. The box-shaped rigid had a red line across its front that made an angled-V shape, the closest thing to a face anywhere on the metallic entity, giving an appearance of eternal anger. The rest of the body was bulky and smooth, almost without features. The wheels, of which there were six, were clearly more than just objects to roll on for they could split open and act as claws, and each one could raise and lower independently. They also had retractable spikes, all of which were currently out.

The three Ch’eni’tho stood aside as the wheeler charged.

Envila leaped forward, slamming her hammer on the ground. The Orange shockwave not only stopped the wheeler, but threw the rigid into the air. The bulky spirited landed backside down, crushing one of the Ch’eni’tho.

“Envila!” Jeh called in shock.

“We are outmatched!” Envila called back, already breathing heavily. “We do not have the luxury of holding back!”

Margaret stood up and cracked her knuckles. “Glad to see we’re on the same page…”

The two remaining Ch’eni’tho ran to the overturned wheeler, trying to right their ally.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jeh shouted, running at them, her own Orange sparkling brightly. She grabbed one of the Ch’eni’tho from a distance and pushed her away from the wheeler. Margaret, meanwhile, moved with surprising skill and agility, landing in front of the other Ch’eni’tho and, with a few expertly timed punches, removed his grip on the wheeler, leaving their largest ally helpless once more.

However, these Ch’eni’tho hadn’t released their lightning bolts yet. Margaret saw the one coming after her, so she ducked and rolled under the Ch’eni’tho itself, forcing his strike to hit his own leg and allowing her to escape unscathed. On the opposite end, Jeh’s plan was to take the lightning bolt head on and plow the rest of the way through the Ch’eni’tho. The Ch’eni’tho—or whatever was controlling it—was smarter than this. At the last minute, it turned away from Jeh and fired the bolt at Envila. It was a somewhat wild shot that hit her in the leg. The fae was strong—she let out not a single cry of pain—but there was nothing she could do about the muscle spasms and she fell onto her back, writhing.

Jeh was fairly sure Envila couldn’t use Green in that state, so she pulled out her own Green—only for the Ch’eni’tho to stab her through the arm, pinning her to the ground while taking the Green out of her grip. Jeh reached for her other crystals, but her opponent used another bladed leg to stab the crystal pouch and throw it aside.

Without those, she was just an immortal child. What could she hope to accomplish without any magic?

She let out a roar and started flailing and kicking, but nothing so much as phased the Ch’eni’tho. The rigid picked her up and kept her fixed to her leg, all the while rushing to go help the other Ch’eni’tho. Margaret was holding her own against the bladed monster using her gauntlets and fluid movements, but the match was even—there were about to be two of them on her.

She was in danger and she knew it, but what else could she do but fight? She was trying to get a good hit off on the glass domes of the Ch’eni’tho, but the one time she landed a hit she barely cracked it, and now he was playing a lot more defensively. There would be no quick kill before the next one arrived; but she had to try anyway. She ducked under the Ch’eni’tho, spinning a twist-kick at his underside—but a spike-leg caught her in the calf, pinning her.

Unlike Envila and Jeh, she did not have so much control over pain as to stop from screaming.

The other Ch’eni’tho raised her leg, aiming between Margaret’s eyes.

Then Jeremiah arrived. He held up his arm, a noxious darkness surrounding it. The Ch’eni’tho’s blade was unable to pierce the veil. From the veil emerged none other than Kirkkok.

“Never fought a servant of Eyda before, have you?” Kirkkok laughed as he bit through the leg effortlessly with his beak. “And now you’re all out of lightning. Say goodbye t—”

The Ch’eni’tho chose to ignore Kirkkok and sliced Jeremiah across the stomach, drawing significant amounts of blood.

“Dad!” Margaret shouted.

But Jeremiah’s wound had not been the true target—that had been the sigil held within his clothes. The sigil was cut clean in half. Kirkkok started to vanish into puffs of smoke.

“You freaking little—!” Before he vanished, Kirkkok unleashed a beam of darkness at the offending Ch’eni’tho, cutting through her core. The rigid collapsed to the ground in multiple pieces, freeing Jeh.

Jeh pulled herself off the discarded limb and stood, her wound healing in seconds. She took quick stock of the situation—the wheeler was still upside-down, Envila was twitching, Jeremiah was on his back, Margaret was trying to crawl toward her, and the last Ch’eni’tho was charging Jeh with reckless abandon.

Dodge! Jeh screamed at herself.

For once, it worked. She twisted back just enough for the Ch’eni’tho’s blade to graze her chest, but not puncture it. Jeh twisted back and ran for her pack of Colored crystals. The Ch’eni’tho did not want this to happen under any circumstances, so he jumped forward into a roll. There was no precision in this attack, but he did manage to roll over Jeh and stop right above the bag of Colored Crystals, pinning the bag to the ground.

He took a defensive stance, daring Jeh to try to grab the Colored crystals.

Jeh had the feeling that if she turned to run for Envila’s crystals, the Ch’eni’tho had some kind of plan for that. She had to get them—but she couldn’t. Charging in blindly would be pointless, she’d just get pinned, then everyone but her would die and she’d probably spend the next minor eternity skewered on a metal stick somewhere.

She racked her brain. Think, think, think…

Then she smelled something burning.

The bag of crystals lit on fire.

The Ch’eni’tho quickly removed his leg from the bag, waving it around—revealing that in stabbing the bag, he had embedded Red crystals into himself. Red crystals that were actively being used to burn—burn his entire body. Sparks began to fly and parts blew off the rigid as he got hot enough to glow.

“Finish me…” a voice droned from the burning Ch’eni’tho. “I do not think… I can do it… myself…”

Jeh ran forward, thrusting her hand into the burning bag, pulling out a Red crystal. With a shout, she put as much heat as she could into the rigid’s core. The already superheated metal reached a critical point and liquified, dropping to the ground and sending large amounts of steam into the air. The rest of the Ch’eni’tho’s structure collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Jeh rummaged through the still burning bag and pulled out her Green crystal, immediately applying it to everyone around who wasn’t one of the attackers. While she was healing them, she noticed something very odd. All three of them had a single, precision hole in their head and in their chest. Her healing was able to restore the wounds, though it took a lot of effort on her part.

But she hadn’t seen anything attack them that could do that…

…wait…

She looked up. There, in the sky, almost impossibly far above them, was a black speck darting across the sky. It was fleeing.

“Can anyone shoot that!?”

No one was in any position to even try. Envila didn’t even try to stand up, she simply sat, shaking as she did so, hand over her eyes. Margaret was tending to Jeremiah, who still hadn’t opened his eyes. “Dad! Dad, come on, wake up!”

Jeh ran over to them. “I’m sure I…”

“He’s old, Jeh!” Margaret shouted. “It doesn’t always work! Especially… especially not for brain damage! That…” She touched the part of her head where the hole had been. “That thing up there wanted us dead…” She turned to Jeh with wild eyes. “What have you brought to us!?”

Jeh took a few steps back. “We… we don’t know…”

“You…”

Suddenly, Jeremiah reached his hand out to steady Margaret’s. “N-no… don’t…”

All the anger melted from Margaret’s face. “Dad! Oh, Dad, it’s all right, I’m here…”

“Heh… sounds like you’re the one who needs me…” He sat up—and then immediately let out a yell, putting his hand to his head. “Aaaagh… I…”

“Take it easy… take it easy…”

“My… my head…”

“Don’t you worry about that, everything is fine…”

“But… are there… more?”

“Not at the moment,” the wheeler spoke, drawing everyone’s attention to the rigid for the first time in a while. “I have sensed no others nearby. But this does not mean others will not be called.”

Silence reigned after this comment. The unspoken question went unanswered.

What did they do now?

~~~

This time, Blue couldn’t speak. The plast dragon’s foot was placed firmly over her mouth, leaving only her nostrils as an avenue to get air into her lungs. She had received no warning—one moment she was reading the monologue with absolute dread for the Princess’ life, the next she was pressed to the ground forcefully. She could see strange flickering patterns of light in front of her and Purple held just behind the kancathi’s back. Some kind of illusion must have been being cast, but she wasn’t the intended recipient, so there was no need to hide imperfections from her.

This also meant she had no idea what would be visible from the other side, and she had no promises that what she could see was anything close to reality either.

But what she could hear, on the other hand…

“Via, you know we can’t just let her out.”

“Why nooot?” Via whined. “We have the power and authority, and we know she’s innocent!”

“The courts will not take our personal connection as knowledge, and while we do have the power, being cleared by royal pardon looks bad. Very bad.”

“So what?”

“So we’ll have to find the real culprit, obviously. That plast dragon emulator will be difficult to find… but I suspect with enough investigation we can prove it wasn’t Blue. The murders did start before she arrived, but she has enough enemies in the court that they may cite her as a copy killer…”

“Ugh, so stuck up!”

“Via, you’re describing yourself.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Via laughed. “Well, I am annoying, so my annoyance at them is understandable.” There was a pause. “This is the part of the conversation where you say ‘sometimes I wonder about you, Via’ and then shake your head and sigh.”

“I find myself wondering if levity is appropriate… there has been a murder. And it is deeply concerning how closely it relates to us.”

Is she… is she going to figure it out? Or at least be suspicious? Blue thought, getting hopeful. She’s a Green wizard a—

The kancathi released Blue’s mouth for a split second and pressed down on her with enough force to make her scream. Blue, even in her pain, knew the plan exactly: shock Tenrayce into stopping her thought process and rushing in.

“Blue!” Via called, running up to the door. “I… Tenii! She’s hurt! It looks like they beat her! Hang on Blue!”

No… stop…

Blue heard Via fumbling with the keys… and then the massive door slid open with a powerful screech, kicking up dust as Via ran in, going for an empty corner. She kneeled down… and then became confused. “Hold on, what?”

Tenrayce ran into the room after her, just in time to see the plast dragon’s claw plunge into her sister’s chest. Tenrayce didn’t cry out, she didn’t scream, she didn’t even gasp. She immediately flayed her palms in front of her face and let the Green crystals all over her alight.

Blue suddenly became nauseous and her perception of reality became fuzzy for a moment, but it quickly cleared. When her senses returned to her, she saw Tenrayce standing tall and shining with bright Green all over, forming a Green aura around the plast dragon’s head, healing it. Restoring it. Skull, face, brain, and all.

The plast dragon stumbled, head jostling side to side. The beast let out a roar… then the same roar again… then the same roar again… the roars lasted until the beast’s head slammed inadvertently into a wall, forcing a bit of a mental reset, but then the monster’s head just wouldn’t stop shaking, trying to clear the headache.

Blue’s eyes widened as she figured out what Tenrayce was doing. She was using all her efforts to continually restore the plast dragon’s brain, trying to reset it continually, a rather advanced technique. Clearly, it wasn’t working completely, but it was doing enough to keep the kancathi from outright killing them right now.

But Via was bleeding out. Tenrayce wasn’t moving, she was clearly using almost all of her will to keep the spell up. Eventually, she was going to burn out, then they would all die. There was nothing a Green wizard could do to fight in this situation, she could only stall.

Blue, however, bruised and battered as she was, had the opportunity to do something. She was free. But she couldn’t heal Via, she had no magic skill to speak of, and she wasn’t physically strong. There wasn’t even a big rock she could levitate to crush the monster’s head!

But she could… run. The door was open. Via was bleeding out, even if Blue picked her up they probably wouldn’t get anywhere fast enough for a wound so expertly placed as that. Lifting up Tenrayce would break her concentration. But Blue… Blue was free to flee and life to fight another day.

Blue took that thought of hers and shot it dead, turning to face the plast dragon. She wasn’t going to run away and leave them to die. She had a brain, she could use it. The plast dragon had told her much through insane ramblings over the last few hours, there had to be something exploitable. A weakness. A trump card. They had talked about the hunt, the rules, the other kancathi, the plan, the song…

The song. If only she knew the song. If only…

Then she remembered.

The tune the children were singing outside the lecture hall.

She hadn’t connected it earlier because that was the middle of the song and she was trying to match up with the start she’d never heard, but that was the right one.

So Blue did the only thing she could think of. She sang the notes. She was surprised how easy it was to recall the exact pitch and nature of the song now that she had it, it just came to her, and her voice carried it well.

The plast dragon, despite having a brain currently being scrambled like pudding, reacted to the song. It was as though the very notes had power over the soul. The beast gave Blue absolute, full attention.

Tenrayce may not have understood what Blue was doing but she understood that the enemy was occupied. She quickly stopped scrambling brains and went to heal Via, her mastery over Green restoring the wound to livable condition quickly.

Blue kept singing, with every note taking a step back to the open door of the cell. The plast dragon continued staring at her intently with an expression of… longing? Deep, pained longing. The need to sing. The inability to do so. Tears began to flow from the monster’s eyes.

Tenrayce pulled the unconscious Via out of the cell. Blue was still a few steps away.

And then she reached the end of the song she’d heard the children sing. She didn’t know the next note. She tried to guess from the timing and patterns she knew.

She guessed wrong.

The kancathi’s maddened sorrow ended in an instant, replaced with murderous intent. Blue let out a yell and jumped back. Using her telekinesis, she slammed the cell door shut with enough force to crack the bones within the plast dragon’s snout. This resulted in a roar of rage, agony, and pain. Instinctually, the kankathi’s foot slammed into the ground, activating the racial attribute of tremor.

The dungeon was built well enough to withstand this. There was no cave in, it just made everyone wobble a bit.

The same could not be said for the secret dwarf-made tunnel that led to the cell. As the tremors ended, the floor of the cell cracked, falling into the tunnel and filling it in.

The plast dragon let out a wail… and then kept wailing as the aura of Green returned.

Tenrayce ground her teeth. “Okay… I can afford not to use everything on her now… that… was something.” Tenrayce turned to Blue. “Get Via up to the surface and get the wizards down here. Tell them we’ve caught a kancathi!”

Blue wasn’t entirely sure they’d believe her but she did as asked without question—when the Princess gives an order with that much force, you didn’t ignore her. She ran up the stairs, levitating Via in tow. She all but threw the princess onto the Royal Guard’s table. “This is Via, Tenrayce is still down there, get the wizards, we’ve caught a kancathi, and I’m not breaking out I’m staying right here!” She planted her rump on the ground. “Cuff me if you want but please hurry.”

The young guard, the very same one who had passed out at the sight of blood at the murder scene, reacted with surprising diligence. She expertly threw a net at Blue and used some Orange to tie it up so effectively that Blue had a hard time breathing—clearly this was designed to very, very quickly catch prisoners.

“Got it!” With that, the guard ran off as quickly as her legs could carry her.

“Right. Good. I’ll just… wait here then. Tied up. Like a good little prisoner.” Blue struggled to roll herself over so she could look at Via. “Well. We’re alive.”

Via, being unconscious, was unable to answer.

~~~

“Might I make a suggestion?” the wheeler asked.

Jeh looked up at the stuck rigid. “Um… sure, but first, what’s your name?”

“Vreewoomva.”

“…Awesome.”

“It is a standard wheeler name. I am—or, well, I was—a traveling salesman who crossed the Wild Kingdoms and sold many wares. As you can see, I have none of them on me right now and am not in control of my body.” Vreewoomva’s wheels were still spinning rapidly and clawing out, trying to do something violent but failing miserably.

“Well, we’ll see if we can help you with that… what’s your suggestion?”

“Get moving, quickly, there will probably be more, and soon. If I have learned anything about this… curse controlling me, it is that it is determined and persistent. You may be far from the Shinelands, but it has been watching you, and it will send more. A larger group will eventually catch up if you do not work quickly.”

Envila let out a “tsk.” “We aren’t in the best physical condition… we can’t move quickly.”

“Then you should get started.”

“Agreed,” Envila said, standing up. She turned to Jeremiah. “Can you travel?”

“I can walk,” Jeremiah muttered, hand to his head. “This… headache, though… egh…”

Margaret looked up from the hexagonal sigil she was gluing together with some kind of sap. “Dad, what are you saying?”

“The wheeler’s right, we can’t stay here.”

“Surely that doesn’t apply to us…”

“Kirkkok tried to save us from this, the moment we defended them from him… we were marke—agh!” He fell to his knees again. “Can’t…”

“Dad!” Margaret ran over to him, placing her hand on his back. “You can’t travel! Not like this…”

“We’re all dead if we stay here.”

“But… but this is our home… I…” She clenched her jaw. “I won’t leave you.”

Jeremiah sighed. “I know you won’t…”

“L—look, we’ll get Kirkkok back and he’ll fix everything…”

Envila frowned, turning to Jeh. “Jeh, your mission to tell Kroan and Shimvale of the threat is important. More important than this.” She hefted up her hammer, arm still shaking. “I will take the task of defending them, you need to go.”

Jeh’s eyes widened. “No, no, I can survive, you need to take the message!”

“I will not survive a flying rigid shooting me when I least expect it in the middle of the jungle, Jeh. You have to be the one to carry that book. I will defend here.”

“You’ll die if you stay here, what difference does it make!?”

“…If you go you might be able to warn everyone.”

Jeh’s eyes watered up. “N-no, I… I can’t…”

“Jeh…” Envila kneeled to the ground, putting a hand on Jeh’s shoulder. “I know I am asking too much of you. But I don’t have a choice. You need to go. There is more at stake than the two of us.”

Blubbering, Jeh nodded.

“Why are you even bothering?” Margaret spat at the two of them.

“You shu—” Jeh’s words were cut short by Envila’s fingers pressed to her lips.

Envila slowly stood up and turned to Margaret. “We brought this evil on you and have caused you great pain.” She turned and looked at the hole in the house, large swaths of ruined farmland, ending at last at the shaking, pathetic form of Jeremiah. “You gave us kindness and have been repaid with tragedy. I will not let that stand.” She turned to Margaret with hard, serious eyes. “I will die to set this right, if it is necessary. …Which it looks like it is.”

Margaret stared at her in silent shock, jaw hanging open.

“Might not… be necessary…” Jeremiah grunted. “If… Margaret can fix the sigil… agh…”

“It’s fixed, Dad!” Margaret called, all but thrusting the sigil into his hands. “S-surely you can…”

“One of Eyda’s own does not forget his master…” With a grunt, Jeremiah held out the sigil. With a flurry of feathers and darkness, Kirkkok returned.

“Oh good, you’re all alive, I was worried there for a second.”

“We need to… AGH!” Jeremiah flopped back onto his back, face contorted in pain.

“Oh my, let’s see what’s wrong with you…” the demon’s slime shifted to display the eye while he examined Jeremiah. “Ah, that’s the problem, your soul-mind interface has been upset. Not exactly unexpected for someone of your age who just got shot in the brain. That Jeh kid sure has a lot of willpower to even do this well. Sadly, not much more Green can do for you.” He let out a caw. “Fortunately, you’ve got me. Now… to get rid of the pain, I need your permission, for according to our agreement what I need to do would count as a ‘violation’ of your person.”

“Well… seeing as everyone needs me to move so we can live…” Jeremiah let out a sad laugh. “You have my permission, Kirkkok.”

“All right! This’ll be fun!”

And then Kirkkok crushed Jeremiah’s skull under his talon, melting right through the flesh. Margaret and Jeh barely had time to scream before Kirkkok lifted his foot and Jeremiah’s head was completely fine.

“W-wow…” Jeremiah said, rubbing his head. “The… the pain’s gone!”

“Glad to be of assistan—”

Envila suddenly grabbed the demon by the neck and held him up.

“Hey! Hey! I just saved him!”

“Yes. You did. And this time, it was probably necessary.” Envila narrowed her eyes, shifting to a language nobody around her knew, not even Jeh. But somehow Kirkkok understood. He responded in kind, with words that somehow ate their way into everyone’s minds as though they were spoken from inside, much like the sensation of hearing a Crystalline One, but far more unpleasant. None but Envila understood the words.

She dropped the demon in disgust.

“I take it we have an understanding?” Kirkkok asked.

“An understanding. And nothing more.”

“Good. In that case…”

“Get moving?” Vreewoomva suggested.

“Yes, that,” Jeremiah said. Despite having no head pain, he still held his hand to his forehead. “The dragon tribe near here… that’s our best shot at getting fast transportation.”

“We must be careful not to let anyone know of our purpose,” Envila said. “Lest their home be burned to the ground.”

“…Then we are going to Kroan. Or Shimvale.” Margaret’s frown became more fearful. “We are well aware that Eyda’s Gonal are not welcome in those places.”

“They aren’t?” Jeh asked.

“You lived there. Did you ever meet one of us?”

“I haven’t met any Gonal…”

“Exactly.” She dusted herself off. “But… your mission is now our mission, by necessity.”

“Before you go, I have a request,” Vreewoomva asked.

“Yes?” Jeh asked.

“Please kill me.”

Jeh paled. “I’m not going t—”

Jeremiah summoned Kirkkok and, without a word, the demon melted a hole right through the center of the wheeler, killing him instantly.

Even Margaret seemed somewhat surprised at this.

“It was his wish, and there was not anything else we could have done for him,” Jeremiah said. “If we left him he would be sent after us again.” He turned his back on them. “Come. We need to move.”

~~~

Blue, Tenrayce, Via, and Pepper all stood inside Pepper’s lab, looking inside the newest acquisition for her collection.

A conscious, living plast dragon. Tied up with so many ropes, cuffs, and magic limiting devices that it was hard to make out most of her features—it was a woman, apparently. She had not written a single word since her imprisonment… but also, notably, she hadn’t tried to kill herself.

“You know, every previous one we’ve caught has offed themselves or been offed by other kancathi,” Pepper said, scratching her chin. “I wonder what makes this one different…”

“She’s insane, I keep telling you,” Blue said. “Thinks she’s still part of the hunt while breaking its rules, is absolutely obsessed with that weird song, and kept going off on… strange tangents. This insanity seems to have led her to hide from her brothers and sisters, so…” Blue shivered. “I don’t even know, all I know is I’m glad to see her be the one tied up.”

“The song is the key,” Tenrayce said, pausing. “…Pepper, Blue, what I am about to say should not leave this room, but I believe it is necessary for you to know.”

Pepper and Blue turned to her with rapt attention.

“We received word from Shimvale through a covert letter sent by… unusual means. They believe there is a song up there that hypnotizes people, forcing their will to bow to them.”

Blue blinked. “How would that… even work?”

“We do not know, and we were not sure if we were to take it seriously… but if a kancathi was subjected to this song and told to do something such as, say, kill the Kroan Royal Family, a command that she could not ignore, that would explain this insanity.” Tenrayce approached the cage, lifting her head up. “Your will is not your own, is it, kancathi?”

The plast dragon didn’t even flinch.

“Wait, if her will isn’t her own…” Pepper rubbed the back of her head. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am keeping her locked up in here…”

“She is a murderer and a danger to us all,” Tenrayce said. “Furthermore, she cannot stand trial, otherwise her existence will get out to the other kancathi and they will try to kill her as a potential security leak. Which she is.” Tenrayce turned to Blue. “Your name is still going to be cleared, but the killer is not going to be a kancathi, it is still a faker, but otherwise this killer’s plan is going to be the exact same as stated, and the killer died in the battle in the dungeons.”

Blue nodded. “Right, understandable.”

“All these lies…” Pepper frowned. “Yes, I won’t tell anyone, I know my duty.”

“Good,” Tenrayce said. “Now, Pepper, you are the expert in beasts. I know you usually do not work with spirited, but you are the best thing we have. Figure out as much as you can. You have no restrictions on what you are allowed to do, but I trust you to stick to decency even more than I would in this situation.” With that, she turned to Blue. “And unfortunately I do have more questions for you.”

Blue nodded. “Of course, I’ll answer everything I can.”

“Where did you hear that song?”

“Children playing outside.”

“…Here? In Axiom?”

“Yes.”

Tenrayce looked out into the distance. “…I wonder how many of us are infected at this point…” She shook her head. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I still would like to point out that mind-controlling songs are not how magic works.”

“Is there any limit to the scope of an attribute?” Tenrayce shook her head. “Not that we know of. We learned today of a race called ‘dwarves’ that dwell underground and can cut tunnels. Who knows what strange attributes lie beyond our knowledge?”

“I… good point.” Her thoughts turned to Jeh. She didn’t exactly seem like an attribute… and then there’s the cube, whatever that is…

Via sighed. “Man, this is all… super-serious. I don’t like it.”

“It is our duty, Via,” Tenrayce said. “Sometimes we have to put away our smiles and our books and do our jobs.” She grimaced. “Times are changing, and I’m starting to see how quickly they could go badly.”

The plast dragon stared right at her, fury in her eyes.

“I have nothing to say to you.” With that, Tenrayce turned her back to the plast dragon and walked away.

The kancathi roared after her. The princess didn’t dignify this with a response.

~~~

Far from Blue, Jeh, or the rest of the Wizard Space Program, something stirred. Deep to the South of the Shinelands, there was a hole in the ground. This hole was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of rigids, all standing in perfect circles around the hole. The hole itself was no larger than a house, and many of the rigids were much larger than it. But protect it they did, from the smallest bug-like rigid to monsters larger than many dragons, they stood guard in silent vigil.

The hole led down into a buried complex with many twisting and turning hallways that led nowhere and served no purpose any longer. Large chunks of metal and stone had pushed through the walls in the millennia. There was evidence of life having taken its toll on the structure—holes where roots had punched through, places where rigid bugs had gnawed away at the metal, and even a few claw marks here and there.

There was no life anymore. Nothing moved. All roots had been removed with surgical precision. The place was clean, but still clearly broken. Damaged.

These halls of clean nothing went on for kilometers.

But eventually, they led to something. A series of red numbers flashing on and off on a flat surface in a dark, desolate room.

The numbers flickered with increasing intensity, more and more flying by each second. There was a sense of panic, of agitation. Then, suddenly, all the numbers save for one stopped. This single one counted from zero to nine, over and over and over again. Then, slowly, all the other numbers started flickering once more, cycling in ever-repeating more and more complicated patterns.

Had anything meaningful occurred?

There was no one there to say one way or the other.

~~~

SCIENCE SEGMENT!

COLORS.

We’ve already talked about how to make light by heating things up, going from red to white to blue. Now, one could be forgiven for thinking this is how fire works—after all, stars are largely just balls of fire and they follow the red/white/blue pattern.

Except reality is a bit more complicated than that. It is true that bluer often means hotter, and that flames often go down in heat as they shift to orange colors (try this with your stove!) but this is not entirely due to a blackbody situation. The thing is, fire is surprisingly complicated! There are actually two major sources of color in most flames: the blackbody radiation, and the excitation of the gas surrounding it. The blackbody radiation is responsible for the orange part of the candle flame, which is actually red or orange-hot heated soot formed almost entirely from excess carbon not used in the reaction. However, on many candles (and natural gas / propane stoves) there is a blue section. This is hotter than the orange section, but it’s not actually due to blackbody radiation, but rather the temperature of the flame getting hot enough to excite the air around it and produce a blue-line emission from electrons jumping up and down in their energy levels.

Note that this gives us a general rule of thumb for blue flames: they’re hot, but they’re not producing any carbon soot byproducts to glow orange. This indicates a well-designed stove, since you really don’t want excess unburned gas getting into the air, that’s a fire hazard. A clean burn is a safe burn. (But if you’re burning, say, wax, there’s not really a danger except from coughing due to smoke, it’s the easily combustible nature of the gas that’s the problem.)

These are the rules by which most flames work. Carbon is so common that it’ll just be part of most reactions. But as chemists and firework enthusiasts will tell you, there are other ways to color fire, usually by burning specific chemicals to produce unique colors. How does this work? It’s actually the same reason as the blue flame—excitations, it’s just that instead of carbon compounds burning to produce blue excitations in air, instead, the other chemicals excite in particular ways due to the heat of the combustion. The vaporization of the chemical needed to make the color in question is a requirement, or at the very least its particles need to be carried upward by the flame where they can be excited.

For the record, fireworks also do use things that burn largely from blackbody radiation, otherwise you can’t really get white. But to get a specific color, like green, a single chemical needs to be used. This is why there are no green stars, as they are largely blackbodies, but we can make green fire and fireworks.

Notably, though, the light sources in Jeremiah’s house were not just flames of unusual colors, there were also glowing mushrooms. Glowing mushrooms, while uncommon, do exist in our world, though they are rather dim. All biological glowing, known as bioluminescence, is driven by chemical compounds called luciferins. Which makes it all sound very related until you dig into it and realize luciferin is just a catch-all term for a “chemical that makes things glow,” there are actually a ton of different types. Some systems use only one compound (such as fireflies) but there are other systems that rely on two (such as many bioluminescent bacteria). When glowing is found in fungi it is specifically called foxfire (which also refers to a few rare types of decaying wood). Surprisingly, despite the large variation of chemicals within the luciferins, the actual mechanism behind the glowing is remarkably similar. In general, a reaction occurs that forces a molecule in an excited state that quickly decays, emitting a specific color of light. In that sense, the mechanism is almost identical to that of colored flames, except the reaction is not driven by heat! Thus, mushrooms and bioluminescent creatures “burn” cold. (Though light itself naturally carries heat and so will heat things up, just not as much as fire itself.)

So yes, the two sources of light are generally blackbody radiation and molecular excitation. The second one is better at producing highly specific colors.