Years Since Creation: 3993
Location: Significance Plane, Elemental System, Woe
Woe was a beautiful city, with dozens of different sectors reflecting the elementals that spawned there. There was distress with its sharp angles, fear with its iron doors, lust with its inviting tent buildings, and countless more. There were thousands of shops, catering to the needs of the millions of people living there creating enough Impact that Darvon could almost feel it in his bones. Yet for all of its charm the city was still one thing above all. Unsafe.
At least according to Maroc, who within moments of teleporting into the hidden base had sent out a message to the surrounding legion who responded by sending a dozen different groups to escort them around the city. Maroc made sure to tell them about the slave base, as well as have hand the manifestos over, but made no attempt at getting sidetracked from their true destination. The teleportation hall.
“Thousands of assassinations occurred all over the plane at the same time as the attack on your home, with a dozen sovereign level combatants being used as blades by Inspiration.” The local commander of the garrison reported as they strolled through the silver patterned greed district.
“Who was targeted?” Maroc asked as he sidestepped a group of screaming fans who were being blocked by surrounding legionnaires.
“It was mostly powerful war paragons who were killed, though none as strong as you sir.” The lieutenant said with a respectful bow.
“That’s it?” Saria interrupted from the side to the annoyed glance of the commander who only spoke when Maroc gave him a look.
“Well no. There were a couple important resource areas which were destroyed, alongside several attacks on talented Doyen who were participants in the planar competition.”
At that the three of them sent each other a look, with Darvon internally glad that Maroc was a valuable enough target on his own that the public likely still weren’t aware of his value. Yet.
“Were there any causalities amongst them?” Maroc asked as he bent under the tent pole sticking out from the side of a pleasure house as they walked into the lust district.
“Three out of the seven doyen who were set to participate were killed in their homes by sovereigns, with the other four only surviving due to being near a legion garrison or a peak being at the time.” The man said while rubbing his chin in thought. “More sovereigns were used on them than any other target.”
“So, they are worried about the plan.” Darvon commented from the side as he tamped down on Vigil’s annoyance at being forced to remain in coffin shape around a wriggling elemental. “Which means they think it will likely work.”
“Or it’s a diversion for their true target.” Maroc said and stared meaningfully at Darvon and Saria while pointedly ignoring the questioning look on the lieutenant’s face. “How about Busari? How did he deal with the attack on him?”
“He survived with no injuries, and even managed to kill one of the sovereigns they sent through sacrificing a couple Brob paragons.” The lieutenant said with a wide smile. “He even managed to keep their armor in a good enough state to be sent to Firan to be analyzed in greater depth.”
“Excellent.” Maroc said with a pleased nod. “Once you’re done here be sure to send him a message that we’ll be staying in Neghys for the foreseeable future. He can find us from there.”
“Yes sir.”
“Good, now please run ahead to the teleportation hall and have them be ready with our destination.” Maroc said in clear dismissal before turning to Darvon and Saria who were dragging the unconscious Pyra behind them. “As to you two how are the healing potions sitting?”
“Their doing great, got rid of all my lingering wounds.” Darvon said as he stared in amusement at the awkward stance of the officer who was forced to join the circle of people corralling them towards the teleportation hall which was now a mere dozen meters away. “I might have to ask for the recipe later.”
“You can make potions?” Saria asked curiously as they strolled into the huge stone building which was getting emptied out by legionnaires.
“While I haven’t mastered the branch itself, my father was a paragon on the path. He made sure I had a good foundation.” Darvon said, absentmindedly thinking back the thousands of brutal lectures his perfectionist dad had forced him to suffer through. That was one thing he didn’t miss about the man.
“What have I told you about talking about your abilities in public?” Maroc said with an exasperated tone in his voice as they were led towards a ritual hall where a nervous Gos spatial paragon bowed towards them.
“Please step in one at a time.” The teleporter said while sweeping his hand towards the ritual circle where a large piece of Vorin hide was placed, its smooth black skin hiding a nebula in its depths.
“Sure.” Maroc said and turned to Darvon. “You’ll have to go first as I have to stay with Pyra, and Saria doesn’t know the local customs. Just be sure to keep your guard up and head down.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Darvon said and stepped forward with Vigil’s coffin trailing behind him. “Will the elementals be a problem?”
“No sir, they are well within my capability.” The teleporter said as he closed his eyes and crushed a few pieces of spatial crystals to pour into the room’s engraving before turning back to Darvon with a professional look. “Brace yourself.”
Darvon nodded and narrowed down on his Image with the intent of taking the opportunity to see how Quintessence reacted when being subjected to spatial forces. Turned out it didn’t, no matter how the small tides of being sucked through what was essentially a wormhole battered at Darvon’s Image, the strings falling down from it didn’t move at all. It seemed they would only move according to his will, which rather comforted Darvon. There would be no event where someone could force him to use the ability without his consent. Though he would still be careful around Qrumin regardless, that monster was too powerful to not know how to deal with its peers.
With that rather depressing thought filling his mind, Darvon’s body reformed from the significance realm, and he fell onto his knees in the middle of a marble room lined with black engravings.
“Welcome to Neghys, city of ancients.” A voice said from next to him, leading Darvon to look up from his crouched pose to see a smiling Bravin standing over him, its body made up of glowing white light dotted with stars. “If you need any medical help please let me know.”
“Thank you.” Darvon said as he stood up, calming down Vigil who was again whining about the command elemental within him. He then turned back to the Bravin who was staring at him with a vague approximation of a smile on his face, which Darvon knew was a feat of extreme effort for the featureless people. “I have a few friends who should be coming over shortly, please let them know that I am right outside.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Of course, have a wonderful day.” The paragon said, turning back to face the teleportation circle with its vague approach at a face disappearing alongside its focus on Darvon.
Taking the dismissal for what it was, Darvon left the room to join the huge stream of people heading outside. He briefly flashed his badge at the guard who went to block him, and soon found himself leaning on a nearby viewing balcony which overlooked the city of ancients.
Neghys was a huge city with a population on par with Woe and was one of the three population centers in Firan. It, like the other cities, was built deep underground in the middle of a massive vein of marble silver in order to hide from the chaotic mess that was the monstrous ecosystem on the surface. The cavern it was placed in stretched for thousand kilometers in length and had a five-kilometer-tall height. From what Darvon heard from the conversation around him, the construction of it had cost more than building a hundred overground cities, but looking out at the beauty before him he couldn’t deny that the architects had done a good job.
Thousands of buildings made up of variations of white and black stone dotted the cityscape, ranging from huge apartments blocks to sprawling villas, with each sector competing for space around the central landmark of the city. Lake Hines, whose calm clear water perfectly reflected the ceiling where millions of sun stones let out enough light to have Darvon still feel like he was inside.
“Woah.” Saria said as she stepped up next to him to admire the view. “The place looks like a drawing of a celestial city from some kid’s fairytale.”
“Wait till you see the floating Islands of Yannos, that place was literally torn out of a plane to be brought here due to its beauty.” Maroc said as he approached from behind while covered in a blood red crystal mask. “Also why aren’t you guys wearing your masks?”
“Forgot.” Darvon said with no regret while fiddling with his sole steel bolt. “But let’s not focus on that, we got places to be!”
With a smile Darvon leaned back and seamlessly joined the stream of thousands of people coming in and out of the teleportation hall and was quickly followed by an exasperated Maroc who took the lead while muttering about insubordination.
“Where exactly are we going?” Saria asked, staring in wonder at a pair of arguing Bravin whose exterior form was in the shape of a flickering flame.
“To the Azeta estate, I have a few friends there who owe me a favor.” Maroc said as he weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes twitching towards anyone who got to near to them. Darvon could admire his dedication, and would have followed his example, but he was more focused on trying to figure out how to split his mind to both focus on staring at the sky above him and rely on his senses enough to weave around people. The practice was not going well, as evidenced by the dozens of annoyed mumbles left behind by him crashing into people. Luckily Vigil and the bone elemental could float above them, at just enough of a height to dodge the stream of walking bodies below and the flying people above.
“When will we wake up Aunt Pyra?” Darvon asked as he stared her sleeping form which was being cuddled by Joven who was staring anxiously at his surroundings.
“As soon as we get settled and have an Enchanting healer on hand.” Maroc said while pushing past a pair of fighting Gos who were being slammed into a building next to them. “While she didn’t see any of the real violence, she is still sensitive enough that a strong enough shock might send her spiraling back inside of herself.”
“True.” Darvon said with a worried voice before going quiet and just floating along the flow of the crowd who were going in the same direction that Maroc was leading them. Towards the lake.
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After an hour of silently walking through silver and black buildings and admiring the beautiful cultural decorations of heroic figures and beautiful creatures they arrived at their destination. The Azeta villa, made up of silver and black marble surrounded by a large two-hundred-meter-wide field covered in luscious white trees which directly connected to the lake where a dock with a dozen beautiful pleasure boats floated. The whole place was in the middle of the residential district and was easily the biggest estate in a city known for a single inch costing an arm and a leg.
“Talk about rich.” Saria said with an arched eyebrow as they approached the gate where a pair of peak doyen covered in a black armor stood.
“They are one of the oldest branches in the Zhaber dynasty, with a history that traces back to before Harvon ascended. If anyone would have accumulated enough money for this, it’s them.” Maroc said as he peeled the red mask off his face after making sure he was away from the sight of any of the streaming crowd, which luckily for him were all careful to stay well away from the gate.
“Though I’m sure it helps that they are also one of the foremost researchers on Extranar laws.” Darvon said as he curiously stared at what was clearly a recently mended hole on the gate while ignoring the tense guards in front of him. “In fact, it was through building off their ideas that I was able to come up with the Emotion Transformer.”
“How can I help you, sire Maroc?” The guard in front said with a gulp as he stared at Maroc who strolled ahead of the group.
As Darvon went to contribute to the conversation he felt Saria grab him by the arm and take him back a few steps to watch the awkward exchange of the three from afar.
“How does everyone recognize him?” Saria asked Darvon with a whisper. “I thought that you guys didn’t have any easy way to communicate.”
“We don’t.” Darvon said with a chuckle at the three in front of him. “The reason everyone recognizes Maroc is both because he’s a war hero who has statues in every city, and because the government used his survival in the face of a Mythos being as proof of our strength before the invaders. Maroc is seen as the living representation of our struggle against Inspiration, and the defining reason for all our successes against them.”
“Heavy burden to carry.” Saria said as she stared at the increasingly flustered guard who had sent his companion in with a message and had taken the chance to ask Maroc for an autograph.
“There’s a reason that he holed himself up in Sanguine.” Darvon said with a more somber expression. “Though honestly I don’t feel as bad for him as Pyra. She suffered enough with dealing with the trauma of her brother killing her parents in front of her, this fame is just extra fuel to the fire that’s her life.”
“So that’s what happened?” Saria said with a voice of surprise as she stared at Maroc who was scribbling on the armor of the excited guard. “What prompted it?”
“His parents were a pair of drug addicts who neglected them their whole life. Maroc was forced to take care of Pyra from five to twenty, which was when he escaped their hold by joining the Legion. Once there he was very successful and sent all the money he earned to Pyra out of guilt. Problem was his parents funneled all of it to fund their own drug addictions while leaving Pyra starving. This went on for a good seven years before Maroc finally retired and returned home. At the sight of the malnourished weak Pyra and his parents rolling in luxuries he went crazy and killed them right in front of her, which sadly left a pretty profound mark on her.”
“Disgusting people.” Saria said with anger as she stared at the vulnerable form of Pyra above. “Did he get punished for it?”
“Yes, he was forced to join the Scout battalion and take a series of incredibly risky missions for ten years, with the scouting expedition into Inspiration being the final one.” Darvon said and started walking over as he saw the other guard approaching Maroc. “Let’s head over.”
As they walked Maroc sent Darvon a look that made it very clear that he had heard their entire conversation, but all that Darvon did was send him a smile. If Saria was to join his team, she deserved to know the story of his biggest supporter.
“Sire Maroc, Mistress Nilys is happy to accommodate you and your group and extends an invitation for you to join her and her family for dinner.” The guard said with a deep bow as he opened the gates.
“Excellent, though I would appreciate if you could give us some time to freshen up and call in an Enchanting healer for my little sister.” Maroc said as he pulled Pyra down.
“Of course, sir, I shall take you to the guest house and have the resident healer brought over.” The guard said before walking into the villa. “If you would follow me please.”
Walking inside Darvon saw a field of dull silver grass filled with white trees bearing black leaves, dark bushes heavy with ebony fruit, and dozens of small silver fishes floating along a stream which extended from the lake into the property. It was a beautiful sight, only marred by the fact that it looked very similar to a certain property Darvon had just been in.
“Maroc did you steal the design for your compound from here?” Darvon asked with a laugh. “I thought you said you made it up yourself!”
“I did, I just took some ideas of their for my design and improved on them.” Maroc said with no shame as he idly walked forward.
“Classic.” Darvon said with a chuckle which only grew louder when they reached the guest house which looked the exact same as the one back in Sanguine but larger.
“Sires you have the entire house to yourself, which has five bedrooms, a stocked kitchen, a library, as well as a single laboratory underground for any dangerous experiments not appropriate for outside.” The guard said before clapping his hand to call out a group of three beautiful androgynous servants which were wearing tight fitting black armor. “We also provide three in house servants who will be happy to accommodate any desires you have.”
“Greetings.” The three said in unison though Darvon could barely hear them over his laughter at the fact that even the servants were wearing a similar uniform to Maroc’s flesh puppets.
“Alright calm down.” Maroc said and slapped his back before turning to face the three servants. “Prepare a set of new clothes for each of us, as well as a comfortable room for my sister.”
“Yes sir.” The servants said and vanished into the house to the uncomfortable look of Saria.
“Are they sex slaves?” Saria said, freezing Darvon’s smile as the memories of the torture he had been forced to go through reappeared in his mind. “Because it certainly sounded like they are.”
“They are not.” The guard said with a calm smile. “They are paid and happy to provide the service that they do.”
“Who is happy to sell their body?”
“Different cultures lead to different values.” Darvon said as he started walking inside already imagining the bath he was about to jump into. “In Significance there is no real attachment to the flesh since it is so easy to create anew.”
“Haven’t heard that one before.” Saria said skeptically as she walked inside.