KC Final: Ch 3

Violetta shoved Rutha forward. The unconscious woman tumbled over the blue dragon’s frosted scales, slid off his shoulder, and plummeted bonelessly toward the ground.

“Stay back!” I snapped at Karalti and sprung from her back like a cricket.

At the peak of the Jump, I triggered Shadow Dance. The two maneuvers could be chained together like a ghetto airdash. I vanished in a swirl of shadow, reappearing under Rutha to catch her in my arms. It was a dumb thing to do, a stunt that left me wide open and defenseless. But it was the only thing to do.

I didn’t even see Lucien move. One moment, he was standing on his dragon’s back, smirking away, and in the next, he was up in my face. Swords drawn, face split in an insane, heartless grin.

“Oops.” He drove both blades at my exposed ribs.

[Barrier Shirt negates Heartstriker!]

[Lucien lands a glancing blow!]

[You have taken 1101 damage!]

[You are poisoned!]

[Warning! Your Armor durability is critically low!]

The ancient Tuun armor somehow managed to turn the swords away, but at the cost of its life. The chain burst, and splitting pain wracked through my torso, stunning me. Most of my HP vanished like a bad dream. Lucien kicked off my chest, sending us tumbling through the air. I oriented just in time to land on my feet, but stumbled under Rutha’s weight and fell back with her onto my ass. Karalti bounded forward, shielding me as the pair of dragons drew deep, magically charged breaths.

And Ignas began to laugh.

At the same moment that Lucien vanished and reappeared on his dragon’s back, hundreds of hidden murder holes opened up around the Parade Ground all at once. A forest of cannons and rifles emerged, every one of them aimed squarely at Lucien and Violetta. The dragons froze in place.

“I don’t know if your enlightened liege is much of a historian, but Vlachia is one of the oldest civilizations in Artana.” The Volod crossed his arms, raising his voice to be heard by the riders. “You really think we’ve stood for three thousand years without being prepared to defend ourselves from the likes of you?”

“We’re Level 55. They won’t do anything.” Lucien sneered. “Tempest!”

“These are Wyrmsbane rounds, boy.” Ignas jerked his head toward the nearest row of cannons. “You’ll get out of the way, but that decrepit dragon of yours won’t.”

His words hung in the air. Suri and Rin stood side by side, weapons in hand. The soldiers and knights held their ranks, faces pale, but determined. Fighting the cramping pain from the poison on Lucien’s swords, I stood up with Rutha in my arms.

“Wyrmsbane?” Lucien’s nose wrinkled. His expression turned distant as he consulted his unseen HUD. “Vi, is that even a real buff?”

She gave him a curt nod, but remained silent. The raspy breathing of the two mutated dragons was the only sound for nearly a minute.

“So, now that we have an understanding, I will ‘advise you as to how things will work going forward’, as you put it,” Ignas finally said. “You will run back to your master like a whipped dog, and you will tell this so-called Emperor of Nothing what I said. I give you my thanks for alerting us to his intentions.”

“Oh, we will. And when we come back with a legion of dragons, you’ll wish you’d never insulted us.” Lucien spat down at me. “Come on, Vi.”

The female rider stared me in the eye as her dragon spread his wings and bunched, then kicked off the ground. The frigid downdraft blasted the courtyard, knocking down the nervous soldiers and forcing the Volod to one knee. Shielding our faces, we watched the twisted creatures rise into the sky before vanishing into a dark nimbus.

“Hector!” Rin’s anguished cry came from behind me. I turned to see her running for us, her turrets flanking to either side. “Are you okay?!”

“I’m mildly poisoned, mostly dead, and I have a cold, but I’m alive.” In all honesty, I was rattled. I hadn’t seen Lucien move. His Dex was up to god-tier levels now… and who the hell knew how powerful Violetta and Baldr were. His ‘glancing blow’ had ignored my armor and would have killed me if not for the Spear of Boundless Strength and its +300 HP bonus. 

I pushed the pain aside and knelt with Rutha, looking over her injuries. She was slashed with deep lacerations – many of them infected – poorly healed bones, bruises and old blood. 

“Here. Drink.” Suri bent down and held out a fan of potion vials: three green and one black. I took them and threw back the [Common Antidote] like a shot, then drank one of the green [Concentrated Moss Tinctures]. The next one I tried to give to Rutha, but it was hopeless. She couldn’t swallow, and I didn’t want to drown her. I took the rest.

[You have healed 450 HP!]

[You are no longer poisoned!]

[HP: 632/1283]

I was still in the orange after all that, but the crushing pain in my sides lifted. I flashed Suri a small, wan smile. “Thanks.”

“Those are from a glass or razor whip.” Suri pointed at the lacerations on Rutha’s skin. “Used to see that in Al-Asad a lot. Prisoners who screwed the guards were beaten with whips that had sharp things knotted on.”

“Yeah.” I gathered Rutha into my arms and stood. “I don’t know what happened to Violetta. She was okay. Lucien used to be a weak coward, and now he’s a vicious, nasty weak coward. And Baldr… Jesus.”

Ignas strode up to us, shaking his head. “Power is like a magnifying lens, Hector. If you are a good person, it will bring out the best in you. If you are a coward, a fool, or a sadist, having power only makes you more so.” He motioned with a hand to one of the Knights of the Red Star, who bowed and went to one knee. “Rytier, take Lady Rutha to the infirmary, and tell Mashka that I command she attend her personally. The Lady was Ilia’s frequent emissary here... I wish to know she is being well taken care of.”

“Hemen, Majesteri.” The tattooed knight saluted with a fist over his heart, then rose and barked orders in Vlachian to his squad. But as a pair of soldiers came forward to take her up and bear her away, I ached with suspicion. “Your Majesty, we need to be careful. As much as I care for her, Rutha is mixed up with the situation in Ilia.”

“You question the lady’s honor?” He furrowed his brows.

“No, not her honor. Baldr’s. The Architect that’s possessing him… he’s a disease that corrupts people, like your brother.”

Slowly, Ignas nodded. “I see.”

I jerked my head toward the retreating soldiers. “Rutha might not be working for Baldr intentionally, or even willingly, but she could still be compromised. There’s something about this that feels like a trap. Like it was staged.”

“Hector’s right. There was no reason for them to give us Rutha,” Suri said. “If that that little blond cunt was tellin’ the truth and they’re really Level 55, they probably could’ve teleported up and killed the lot of us without too much trouble.”

“Hmm.” The Volod rubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking. “Like throwing a diseased corpse over the walls of a castle under siege. You’re wise to be suspicious. It’s true that they put up little resistance, though I also have the impression that they are genuinely inexperienced negotiators. The ruse with the Wyrmsbane enchantment worked… Simeon was only able activate a few rounds. That was a gamble on my part.”

Like a ghost, Ebisa stepped out of her Stealth cloak and fell in by Ignas’ side. The assassin was a Mercurion like Rin, but she was her polar opposite in all ways. Rin was a short stack with a stocky, girlish figure. Ebisa was thin to the point of androgyny. She was bald, her skin a flat matte grey; Rin’s hair and skin rippled with subtle color, like abalone shell. Rin was cute in the way that kittens were cute, with an open, heart-shaped face and expressive eyes. Ebisa was hawkish and alien-looking. All Mercurions wore masks, but few wore them as religiously as the King’s Blade. 

“I’d rather assume it was a ruse.” Ebisa’s voice was as harsh as a crow’s, like she gargled whisky and broken glass for breakfast. “The Tuun speaks true. This woman was their bargaining chip, and they threw her on the table and left with their tails between their legs. It was too easy.”

“You’re a cynical shrew, but you’re right.” The Volod seemed entirely unsurprised by her sudden appearance.

“A cynical shrew who still draws breath after dealing with you for years,” Ebisa replied wryly.

Ignas snorted.

“I don’t want Rutha put in the dungeons or anything,” I said quickly. “If she’s been turned into some sort of trojan, it’s not her fault.”

“Of course not. I will warn Mashka of this ‘disease’. We will place the lady under guard in the hospital and keep her isolated for the duration of her coma,” Ignas replied. “Much as it pains me to do so.”

Ebisa flowed like a ribbon of smoke to join Rin, who was starting to look dejected. She patted the Artificer on the hip, and the girl perked up, blushing bright blue. “We could keep watch over her for you, sire. Mercurions fear no disease of the body.”

“You could, but I have need of you for other things. Your gift for strategy, for one. We must have the briefing on Myszno. I’d planned to have it tonight after the Dark Moon festival, but we will have to move it forward.”

“How are things in Myszno looking?” I asked.

Ignas gave a little shake of his head, lips pressed together. “The messenger who staggered into the Great Hall this morning carried dire news, now made direr by the need to deal with this Ilian whelp. I won’t explain out here – we should adjourn to the War Room. I want all four of you there. Karalti, too, if she can stick her head in through the window.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Suri dropped into a courtly bow. 

“Sure.” I looked back to Karalti. Her wings were drooping, the tips almost trailing on the ground. She was still staring up at where her siblings had vanished. “If it’s alright with you, we’ll meet you there in twenty.”

Ignas gave Karalti a shrewd look, then inclined his head. “You have my leave. Do what you must. And do not fear these threats of war, Hector. As I told you during my coronation, I will not be extraditing you or Karalti to Ilia. You have my solemn word before these witnesses.”

I turned back to him. “Even if it means going up against Baldr?”

He nodded. “The White Sail Alliance will never allow this Starborn whelp to muster beyond his own borders. Ilia is not a large country, and soldiers march on their stomachs. We will freeze trade, enforce sanctions, and starve any aspirations of his ‘empire’ even forming.”

I ran my tongue over my teeth, considering his words. Even though I could open my HUD and view my Reputation in Western Vlachia – it was up around the +1500 point mark now – I still had to ask the question for my own peace of mind. “Why are you protecting us?

The Volod drew himself up like a dignified heron. “As I told you the day of my coronation, it is a matter of honor. You and your queen brought a murderer to justice and helped to restore me to my rightful throne, and now you prepare to ride to our defense. Vlachia is in your debt.”

“Then thank you, for both our sakes,” I replied. “I mean it.”

Ignas bowed his head, then turned to confer with Ebisa in Vlachian. Suri squeezed me on the shoulder as I walked by her, and I clapped her forearm before moving on to join Karalti. Her nostrils flared as I approached.

“Come on, Tidbit. Let’s fly and talk,” I said, switching back to our silent speech.

“I don’t want to talk. What is there to talk about?” My dragon hissed and snapped her jaws, flexing her talons into the grout between stones, but she dutifully positioned her wing so I could climb it. 

“I know you don’t, but you need to. What’s eating you?”

“I dunno.”

She didn’t say anything else during takeoff, but I could feel the tension in her body as she took wing. Only once we were in the air did she speak again.

“Those two dragons… they were my brothers. I could tell by the way they smelled. Why are they sick?”

“I told you about Baldr, from Ilia. He’s been possessed by one of the Architects, the beings who created this world, and that being – Ororgael – has corrupted them with Void magic,” I replied, leaning with her as she dropped a wingtip and headed back the way we’d come.

“Like the bad king. Andrik.”

“Yup.”

Karalti flew in pensive silence for the rest of the trip to the War Room. Fighting the urge to press her, I tried to relax into the silence, to make it less awkward, but I was pretty wound up myself. We’d been in Archemi six weeks, and Baldr was already the ruler of a nation. Lucien was his high-ranked lackey. If the lackeys and their dragons were Level 55 already, how powerful was Baldr?

Trying not to sneeze into my helmet, I bought up the EXP table in the ArchemiWiki to check how much experience a dragon needed to reach Level 55, and blanched. Fuck me. That was a big number with a lot of zeroes. Even if Karalti and I had trained from the minute she was born until this moment now, fighting mobs all day and all night, we wouldn’t be anywhere near that level. It wasn’t fair, and it made me feel just a little more hopeless about those seventeen points I still needed to level up. But what was the point, when my opponents were so over-powered? No amount of work would let us catch up.

Before the dark thoughts could overwhelm me, I narrowed my eyes and studied Vulkan Keep’s defenses from the air. There were multiple rings, starting with the bridge over the canyon valley that served as a moat. Then there was the barbican, a fortified gatehouse which led to a kill zone separated from the main castle by another gatehouse, the only way through the outer curtain wall. The wall was partly built into and camouflaged by the obsidian stone of Mount Racosul, the huge dormant volcano that loomed over Taltos below. There was the outer bailey just behind that, a crescent-shaped open space where most of the ancillary buildings used to manage the Keep were located. The inner bailey was built more directly into the enormous natural cave structure behind the castle, which sheltered the keep from aerial attack – an important feature for fortified positions in Archemi. The volcano concealed the strongly fortified living quarters and defensive elements under the direct command of the Volod. The Parade Ground, on the other side of the mountain, was pretty much the only open area and was outside the main walls. Flanking towers were embedded to either side of the inner bailey, the patrolling guards concealed by crenellations along the walls and reinforced caverns from above. Vulkan Keep wasn’t some whimsical Elvish relic. It was ugly and blocky, but it had been built to be impregnable, not pretty. So far, so good.

The War Room was on the top floor of the donjon, the highest tower of the keep. Like the Eye of Sauron, you could stand on the balcony that was shielded above and in front, and look out over the Keep, the parade ground, and the valley, as well as the switchback road that ran down the mountain, across a raging glacial river, and ended at the gates of Taltos far below.

Karalti soared down in an elegant arc to land on the edge of the balcony. When she had her balance, she flipped her wings, folding them neatly against her flanks, and hopped down to the broad catwalk.

“Are you alright?” I unbuckled myself from the saddle, but didn’t slide down.

“No.” Her normally girlish, chirpy voice was uncommonly serious. “But… Do you think…?”

She trailed off, tail lashing, and flattened her crests down against her skull.

“Do I think what?”

The little dragon shook her head, restlessly flexing her killing claws against the stone. “Do you… do you think… my mom is still alive?”

I felt a pang behind my ribs that had nothing to do with the lingering ache from Lucien’s swords. “I don’t know.”

“I never got to meet her.” Karalti began to pluck at the edge of the wall with her dexterous hands, picking at the seams between stones. “My blood tells me that I have to meet her, at least once. If I don’t…”

She trailed off again, hissing softly with frustration.

“If you don’t meet her, what happens?” I asked.

“I tried to command my brothers before. I told them to leave. They should have listened to me.” Karalti replied. “We are blood-kin, and I am their Queen. They should have obeyed me. But there was nothing. It was like… they didn’t recognize me.”

“That’s because they’re Stranged, Tidbit.” I swung my leg over to sit side-saddle, bracing my heel against her wing shoulder. “They’re fucked up from whatever cheats Baldr used to make them level so fast. You can’t expect them to act normally.”

“No. That’s not what I mean.” She darted her head back and forth, then turned around to pace. “My mother has something that she must give me. If I had been allowed to hatch properly with her, I would have been able to command them, Stranged or not. I can see her when I close my eyes sometimes. She gives me something from her mouth, and passes the mantle of Queenship to me.”

I frowned. There was a lot about dragonkind I didn’t know, given my strange start in Archemi. “If you’re having visions of her, I’d like to say she’s alive. She probably has to be careful how she contacts you.”

“Do you… do you think she’ll love me?” Karalti craned her head around to look back. “Be proud of me?”

I reached out and chucked her cheek. “There’s no way she couldn’t love you, Tidbit.”

Karalti’s luminous eyes searched mine, and her horns lifted a little. “What… what is she like? Is she smart and beautiful? She must be, if she has so many males courting her.”

For once, I didn’t want to tell Karalti the truth. Not all of it, anyway. Her mother was obese and sickly, chained deep in the bowels of the Eyrie just as she’d been her entire life. I shuddered to think how she was being treated now. But despite it all, she had preserved some dignity, the spirit and the will to fight on. Karalti was living proof of her courage, and her power.

I fixed my dragon with a steely glare. “She has never gotten to live the kind of life you have. But your mom’s a fighter, and she’s definitely smart. If she’s alive, the thing that’s keeping her going is knowing that you’re fat, dumb and happy. And free.”

“Yeah. I guess.” The dragon looked down. “You know, I’m happy that I’m getting bigger, because it means you can fly with me and I can protect you better. But sometimes, I miss being small.”

The fierceness I felt was softened by her expression. “Me too. It wasn’t that long ago that I used to carry you around, huh?”

Karalti’s horns lifted more, and she pressed her muzzle against my hand, eyes wide and trusting. “I miss it sometimes.”

“Me too. But there’s never any point in wishing you were something you were in the past, right?” My smile widened, but then froze as a yellow side-quest notification flashed in the corner of my eye. I pulled it over to have a look, and my eyebrows shot up when my narrator read it out for me:

New Quest: The Queen’s Mantle

Karalti has experienced a vision of her mother gifting her with access to the Path of Royalty, the Path which unlocks a Queen dragon’s ability to command and lead other dragons. To understand more, you will need to read and research the Solonkratsu, Archemi’s native dragon species. 

My guts churned. That paragraph contained two of my least favorite words: ‘read’ and ‘research’.

“Are we going to rescue my brothers?” Karalti asked. “And my mother?”

“I hope so. I mean… yeah, we will. Someday. One way or another, we’ll sort it out once we’re strong enough.” Nervously, I accepted the quest and added it to my ever-growing queue. “Maybe Suri can help.”

Karalti rumbled. “I don’t want her help.”

I slid down to land lightly on the wall, then sprung down to the walkway. “Beggars don’t get to be choosers, Tidbit. The Eyrie is a big place, and when the time comes, we’ll need everyone we can get. That’s a long ways away, though. We’re nowhere near powerful enough.”

Karalti spread her wings, letting them ripple in the wind. “Fine, but I’m not running away any more. If I see Lucien and Violetta around here, I’ll burn them to ashes for what they did to my brothers.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll fly back here as fast as you fucking can,” I said.

She turned to glare at me, snorting steam. “Why?”

“I just said it. We’re not strong enough yet.” I held her gaze. “Not by half. You did the Bioscan. You know as well as I do that they’re way, way too OP for us to handle yet.”

“That’s why you kill the humans.” 

“You can’t kill them.” I scowled. “Lucien could survive a direct hit of your breath weapon, assuming you could hit him. His ‘glancing blow’ wrecked my magic armor and nearly killed me.”

The dragon hissed, dancing from foot to foot.

“Look,” I said. “Just accept that we’re not there yet, okay? You’re Level 8. I’m only Level 16. Believe me, you’re not the only one who’s frustrated.”

The dragon’s eyes narrowed as she turned her flank to me, tail lashing. “Ugh, whatever. I’m going hunting.”

“Okay. But you’re going to hunt game,” I said. “Don’t pick a cow or goat or some tame dinosaur off the Volod’s land. Challenge yourself. And stay in touch with me while you’re out, okay? I’m worried the Freak Squad’s still hanging around.”

“I’ll hunt where I please. You can have opinions about humans, but you leave being a dragon to me.” Karalti tossed her head impetuously and dove off the side of the castle like a kingfisher before she swept into the air: lean, hungry, and terribly, defiantly young.