Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (155/?)

The Great Forests of Elaseer. Alcove of the Forgotten. Matriarch’s Chambers. Local Time: ???

Many, Many Generations Ago.

???

The cave was dark, moist, damp, but worst of all—

Breathe in. Breathe out. 

—it smelt of dust and decay.

Hear my voice. The old crone droned.

Breathe in. She continued as if it was a prayer.

Breathe out. 

On and on and on and on.

…

It needed to stop.

Grandmother please—

I could feel the old relic stirring, her scales shifting, as her gems thrummed violently against the cave walls.

Keep your thoughts to yourself, child, and concentrate. She projected, her thoughts purposeful, their images vivid; teasing and testing my patience for a world that was our birthright.

That sort of thinking is dangerous, Kaelthyr. The ‘matriarch’ warned… though the threats, as practiced and regal as they were in my mind, fell as flat and limp in my thoughts as the dead values she extolled.

I heard that. She continued dourly.

And? Perhaps you needed to hear that. Perhaps you need to understand that no amount of training or concentration in the old ways is going to bring it back.

Kaelthyr!

Maybe it’s about time someone stood up, that someone challenged this farce of an existence! I stood firm, placing my thoughts forward, making certain that everyone would feel the indignancy I felt, the frustration I embodied, and the inferno enveloping my soul. Look above you! What do you see?! Stone! Nothing but stone! This… ‘sanctuary’ is nothing more than a tomb, a catacomb for a dead empire. Our existence, our living, means nothing if we have no effect on the world. I stood firm, standing on all four legs to face what remained of our pitiful congregation. What good is survival, when we survive for nothing but survival’s sake? That makes us no better than the animals they make us out to be. Mere beasts with only the siring of a new generation to look forward to, and nothing mor—

SILENCE! The matriarch erupted.

All thoughts halted, as my eyes glazed over in a fit of disorientation, confusion, and a surge of uncontrollable anguish.

It was then, and only then, when I was forced to the brink, that I finally started to slowly breathe, taking in controlled breaths, if not at the behest of the matriarch then simply for the survival of my own psyche.

You are still young. The matriarch’s words rang loudly, completely overwhelming my inner monologue, dangerously close to— replacing it. Our words resonated, causing fear to ripple through my very soul.

Be not afraid. For fear is to the flayers what blood is to the shark. Matriarch Syvrak warned darkly, her words still close to subsuming my own. I can feel your frustrations. She continued, her eyes soon shifting to all others present. All of your frustrations. She reiterated, her form never once flinching from the rocky pedestal she sat atop. But know that a thousand years of frustrated  turmoil is still preferable to the fate which awaits us outside of this sanctuary. 

I… would still dare… to tempt… such a fate. I managed out in between pained thoughts, each word more difficult to form than the next, let alone projecting it forward.

All eyes once more landed on me, either out of pity, concern, or even shock at my declaration of rebellion in all but name.

Though the matriarch’s eyes remained — as they always were — condescendingly nurturing.

You speak out of spite, and the ache of an unfelt sky. This, I understand. You are correct in asserting that the world is our birthright. However, you misunderstand what it is I hope to accomplish. The matriarch responded with poise, her wings flaring, causing the crystals around us to pulsate softly. Perhaps it is my own folly, for assuming you would understand at such an age. However, to sate your lust for your untested flame, I will expound on that which is our ultimate aim. The old dragon paused, reaching forwards with a hand outstretched. There exists a call, a distant hum, a droning from beyond the veil of a looming dark festering in its infancy. Its call is faint, a barely noticeable flicker of dark in the overwhelming light that connects us all. But it is there, and it is a glimmer of light at the end of this infernal tunnel in which we all reside.

I closed my eyes, focusing, attuning, offering my thoughts wholly to this fleeting thought.

…

But all I could see, the only thing I could sense, was a… disturbance. A small errant shift in the otherwise infallible web of our grand crystal lattices. 

To your eyes, it may seem like nothing. But in time, with experience, you will see what I see.

A minor aberrancy? I shot back scathingly.

The existence of something outside of Nexian perfection. A crack in the glass. One which shall grow with time.

=====

The Life Archives. Somewhere Underneath the Warehouse District. Crown Herald Town of Elaseer.

Kaelthyr

Breathe in.

I held firm.

Breathe out.

I held strong.

Breathe in.

And in lieu of my binds—

Breathe out.

—I hung defiantly.

But each breath taken brought forth pain:

The ache of flesh,

The sting of pride,

And worse without peer…

The betrayal whose fire refused to die.

Hear my voice… I bellowed forth, even if I understood long ago that nobody was listening… or more accurately, no one was willing to answer.

Instead, I felt my mind… shattered, my psyche scattered across a thousand concurrent points. Words, symbols, images, and concepts both unknown and enigmatic flashing all at once in an incoherent daze.

There was no respite.

There was no more silence.

If anything, I got my wish… just in a way fate had dictated in my stead.

I saw it all, from everywhere, all at once… through words, whispers, and sights not of my own accord.

And yet, in that infinite cascade of unfathomable variety, I saw it.

It started as a mere flicker of dark in a whirlwind of light.

Then, it grew. Not in size, scale, nor scope… but in frequency.

I saw it more often in my periphery, these… conversations into the dark, the empty… the void.

I knew not how long these sojourns into the abyss went.

However, I knew at least what they represented.

The coming dark.

And so I waited.

Months, years, decades, I no longer kept track.

But I waited.

All for the hope that one day, that small crack would finally grow into an irreparable fracture; a gaping fissure in the foundations of this rotten empire.

…

That day came sooner than I imagined.

And it all began with an earth-shattering—

BOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!

Disorientation took hold first.

But it wasn’t the blast itself that caused such a fierce reaction.

I’d been knocked, blasted, shunted, and clawed at with far greater destructive force than this, all without breaking my stride or resolve.

The difference here however, was the nature of the blast.

There was no magic present.

There was no alteration or shift, no draining nor pawing at the great lifestreams to incur such wrath.

It was as if the force was spontaneous, perhaps natural in origin.

But I knew better than to even consider such a naive explanation.

The explosion was deliberate. The forces were not a matter of chance, nor was it preceded by accompanying auras.

Moreover, nothing natural would have been allowed to manifest under the ‘eternally’ watchful sentry of the frail two-legged pests.

Speaking of those pests…

The smell of flames and death soon filtered down through the broken brick and mortar. 

The unmistakable acrid singe of burnt hair and skin sending a newfound warlust down my long and aching spine.

I opened my maw for the first time without the deliberate and forceful motions of a ‘caretaker’.

And in the first instinct I fell to after all this time trapped, bound, and partially gagged… I grinned a toothy, bloodthirsty smile.

The black robed one bleeds… I announced in a fit of excitement. Lifestream-ladened blood coursing through my body, as I reached in earnest for my wings.

CLINK!

CLINK!

One my one the chains fell..

CLINK!

Their mounts weakened, as the structure above crumbled into the depths of this infernium made manifest, shattering any and all integrity of the world hidden beneath.

I stood firmly, on four legs once more, stretching and cracking joint after joint, and muscle after muscle, as the grotesque marionette-inspired binds I’d been pinioned into still bore deep scars into my flesh and bone.

Though, unbound by its lifestream-denying properties, I felt my body healing already. 

It wouldn’t be long before the flesh was restored. Which made all the more sense to wait out my prey.

The formerly dark and twisting corridors of this cavernous dungeon were now filled with a careening mass of detestable creatures. Each clamoring over one another for an exit, all seething with panic, hunger, pain, and undoubtedly — rage.

They would serve as fodder, weakening the black robed scum above, as I could smell the fear emanating from the sweat of his brow.

It was delectable, tantalizingly so.

And yet… there was something else that was undoubtedly nipping at my scales.

It was faint, a distinct sort of sensation exclusive and divergent from that of the flicker of dark within my lattices.

There was a physicality to it, a presence not within the immaterial webways and lattices, but still invisible to most.

I closed my eyes, concentrating, listening not through my ears nor through my lattices, but through sights I’d barely touched even prior to my internment.

…

I felt them.

Multiples, pulsing, speaking, miming and mimicking, all in a foreign facsimile of what had to be communication.

Their pulses were deliberate, practiced in perfection, unnaturally so.

Indeed, the longer I listened, and the more I observed, the clearer their nature became.

These weren’t individuals.

They were parts of a greater whole. Each an extension, a daughter and son to a matriarch that commanded them without mercy; tethering each through leashes so exotic that there existed little comparison, at least, not without magics.

And yet… I felt nothing beyond their chatter, nor the drawing of lifestreams from where their matriarch stood. It was as if they were invisible, pebbles and rocks amidst the turbulent lifestreams around them, their shapes vaguely cast in negatives through the light they blotted out.

They were, in every sense of the word… foreign.

I needed to see them.

So I rose.

Claws and magics carving, tearing, ripping into enchanted brick and mortar.

Rocks crumbled to dust, and woods erupted into flame and cinder with each and every grasp, until finally… 

ROOAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!

I felt the air… hot, scathing, steaming with as much death as it did freedom.

Instinct and muscle memory forced my wings to unfurl in one swift motion, as I finally felt the untempered and unadulterated lifestreams bathing them in a relief so indescribable that my roars grew louder and louder.

For a brief moment in time, all that existed was me. And in that fleeting instance, I felt nothing more. No elven scum or dwarven bugs, no deceitful kobolds nor two-faced satyrs, nothing as I overpowered the world around me.

…

Save for the tiny, minuscule pebbles that still stood in the way of the lifestreams. 

I opened my eyes, staring at the devastation left in the explosion’s wake, as I attempted to locate the shadowy matriarch of this unbidden swarm.

Scantily a second was needed to do so. But the fact that it wasn’t immediately obvious, merely added to the dull matriarch’s enigma.

I expected a grand being.

A force with the substantial presence to make sense of the devastation it so clearly wrought.

Moreover, I expected something other, a presence not of the elven proclivity for their dollhouse heritage.

Instead… what I saw was an armored figure. A knight of modest dressage and subpar form. 

She wasn’t even maintaining a warrior’s stance, instead knelt down, tending to one of them.

This caused my tail to tighten, my brows to furrow, and my flames to begin broiling deep within my throat.

However, and before rage could overpower what little curiosity I had left in my war weary soul, I finally noticed it.

She was hollow.

No mana seeped from, nor entered into her armored form.

What’s more, no runic enchantments, or crafty spellcraft, nor alchemical trickery was present on that exoskeleton in all but name.

Her lack of presence, her animated inanimancy, those properties of life that defied the living… all of it beckoned something far greater than the sum of just her appearances.

There was something else hiding within.

Something truly enigmatic which stowed away underneath these scales of foreign metal.

Indeed, I tried everything to scour, scry, and reach beyond the surface of this… being.

But it was all for nought.

Which left only one option.

SNAP!

…

Yet once again…

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRR…

My ambitions were dashed by the advances of the elven filth.

Fire once more returned where curiosity had tentatively taken hold, as rage coveted every ounce of worldly presence I possessed in that moment.

THWACK!

I swatted the insect away, feeling the satisfying crumple of armor giving way into flesh and bone.

It was just unfortunate how quick it all was, how transient those motions were, as the black robed elf simply skidded off into the waters of the canal beside us.

SPLASH!

Well-earned silence should have descended following that squashed threat.

But alas…

“Vanavan! I found Emma Booker!” 

… the world was no longer following the rules of draconian sense.

I gave the interloper matriarch one last look before I made for the skies, even going so far as to entertain this Baxi’s attempts at restraining me.

Though that latter decision was the closest I’d admit to regret on this night. As despite overpowering the Baxi’s soft and half-hearted spells, I failed to notice the path of my well-earned flight. As I flew straight into—

CLINK!

—one of the matriarch’s children.

The little thing whined and churrrrrred within a dense patch of crystals, shivering, shuddering, and crying out in little spurts of well-timed despair.

It was pathetic. In an… inexplicably endearing light.

Though sadly, I had little time to make matters right by the enigmatic matriarch, even as I tracked her presence back to the castle atop the hill.

Still… I took the time to stare through the grand glass facade, making certain that our two eyes locked; provided she even had eyes to speak of beneath that facsimile of a knight’s facade.

Though sadly, this brief interlude was destined to be as brief as our encounter above the archives.

The castle, with its powerful magics rivalling even Matriarch Syvrak, was not a demon to be tempted; not even with the enigma of the matriarch just standing there to be cracked open.

So I left.

My wings beating the air around me, turning leypull into but an afterthought as I drained and channeled the lifestreams to my own personal design; serving what it was fated to serve.

No elf or drake rider could follow me as I surged upwards towards the veil, beating my wings harder and harder, straining, but ultimately embracing the ache and strain of the weight of my form carried aloft both membrane and sinew.

It didn’t take long until I managed to breach the thick layer of clouds, penetrating the eternal spell cast by the usurper king, reaching into that thin layer of air rarely frequented… this far out into our former domain.

Here, high above it all, beneath the soft glow of the night’s light, in the midst of the beauty of the veil and the colorful dancing of primavalic energies, did I finally, after eons… feel something resembling comfort and bliss once more.

I was finally at home.

=====

Dragon’s Lair. Foot of the Hill. Local Time: 2225 Hours.

Present Day

Emma

Crimson still dripped from the seven bullet-holes I’d landed on the shatorealmer. Its membranes torn, its ‘shoulderblades’... shredded, and its eyes completely glazed over.

And yet… words still emanated from its mouth, its vocal cords hijacked and its lungs clumsily repurposed not for respiration, but for the sole utility in generating manual speech.

I froze in place.

My gun still raised, trained not at the shatorealmer, but the dragon that puppeted it.

We didn’t speak, neither Thalmin or myself finding it within ourselves to respond, receptively or threateningly.

It was only after a second, more ‘refined’ greeting, did this entire… situation finally sink in.

“Sma-ll. Ma-tri-arch. Come to talk. Come to reclaim—” The dragon raised a finger, pointing towards the recovered drone half-lodged into my backpack. “—missing child.”

“Oh.” Came my first response, my heart racing while my hand started relaxing, lowering my gun if only for a moment. “Y-yeah. I did come for the drone.” I responded matter of factly, all semblances of diplomatic intent and rehearsed first contact formalities retreating out of exhaustion, confusion, and most of all… disbelief and complete shock at the grisly sight in front of me.

“Sma-ll. Ma-tri-arch. Wishes for gems. Sawing. Carving. Disfiguring my form.” It continued, a bit more accusingly this time. 

This definitely gave me pause for thought, as I turned to Thalmin, heart racing, before nodding softly and respectfully towards the dragon. “Y-yeah. I’m also attempting to acquire one of your crystals. B-but it’s for a good cause, and I… I wasn’t at all aware that you were sapient! If I’d known, I would’ve never, ever committed such a vile and reprehensible transgression. I’m more than willing to discuss terms with you for sufficient reparations for any transgressions incurred.” I blurted out, my mind jumbling, racing, combining bits and pieces of bearo-diplomatic speak from classes that had prepared me for every eventuality, even ones as far fetched as this. Though perhaps not specifically with a dragon in mind.

“I return.” They pointed once more to my backpack. “I give.” They gestured to the crystals in one of my pouches. “But now you return. Let me see you.” The shatorealmer spoke menacingly, the dragon letting out a series of chirp-growls all the while, before all of a sudden—

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 300% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 500% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 700% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS

—we were both hit with three successive bursts of mana radiation.

Thalmin’s mana radiation counterspells didn’t even have a chance to deploy. And in a moment I hadn’t yet expected, the mercenary prince’s features for the first time showed signs of complete and utter shock.

“Thalmin! Are you—”

[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 104% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: ANOMALY DETECTED… RECALIBRATING… RECALIBRATING… ERROR! DETECTING 29 + 1 DISTINCT TYPES OF MANA-RADIATION.]

My heart skipped a beat, as the dragon moved forward, deftly pushing Thalmin to the ground as it peered its serpentine head closer towards me, its eyes practically staring straight through my lenses as if in an attempt to reach straight into my soul.

I felt time slowing to a crawl as that serpentine eye narrowed, its slitted pupils contracting and dilating, its eyes darting left, right, up and down, as if digging, rummaging, scouring for something before suddenly, it stopped.

Just before I could react with an appropriate counterattack, the dragon leaped back several paces, taking several steps towards the treeline as it regarded me with eyes widened in disbelief.

Thalmin clearly wasn’t having any of this, as he called Aquastride forward, both mount and prince ready for an attack.

The corpse’s lips twitched, the dragon once again forcing them to speak. 

“I meant no harm to your Knight, Matriarch. I needed to see. And to see is dangerous.”

“Shut it with the cryptic bullshit and tell us what the hell your angle is!” I yelled, bringing the railgun to bear once more, and clearly eliciting something within the dragon.

“I needed to know you. Your nature. Your origin. Your truth.”

Its voice shifted once more, attempting to shift into what I could only imagine was a more personable softness, each word however emerging more like a cracked echo.

“I needed to understand, Matriarch of the void.” 

The dragon raised a paw, lifting a single finger towards Thalmin.

“Your Knight is not of your kind. His is of the Elven domain. He would not have survived my sight.” 

The shatorealmer’s voice hitched for a moment, as the dragon ‘recalibrated’ its breathing, before continuing in earnest. 

“So I pushed him, to keep him alive.” They once more paused, before leveling their eyes on Thalmin. “And to ensure he does not interfere.”

I didn’t respond, and neither did Thalmin, as tensions flared in the midst of a freshly minted battlefield.

“I have seen what I needed to. You may leave if you wish. The debt of grievances and misunderstandings… has been rectified.” The dragon offered, gesturing towards the open forest around us. “You and I, unlike I and this world, are free of mutual grief. Leave peacefully…” It paused, before slowly, and expectantly, gesturing towards the cave. “... or fulfil your destiny.”

I blinked rapidly at this, Thalmin’s features stiffening and lightly growling in indignant frustration.

“And what exactly is my ‘destiny’?” I shot back, throwing the dragon the ball if only to see where this went.

“To resist the light.” It spoke with a toothy grin. “Because to fail, is to suffer the fate of either your Knight—” It paused, gesturing at Thalmin. “—or my kin.”

I could feel Thalmin seething up a storm at the dragon’s constant jabs.

This prompted me to finally respond, to first address the elephant in the room, and push for at least a more proper channel of dialogue.

“Before I agree to anything, we need to get something straight.” I gestured to Thalmin. “The Knight, is not my knight.” I spoke carefully, attempting to avoid divulging too much—

“Just be out with it, Emma.” Thalmin urged. “You needn’t be sparing with your testimonies, for the last thing this dragon will allow is to be recaptured and questioned by the Nexus.” 

“Your Knight speaks the tru—”

“I am no Knight.” Thalmin rebutted, causing even the dragon to widen his eyes in surprise at his flippancy, eventually turning into a sly and purposeful smile.

“Then state your titles, lupinor.”

“I am Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm.” He uttered proudly. 

“Well met.” Came the dragon’s curt words, before it shifted its attention back to me.

“I’m Cadet Emma Booker of the Long Range Expeditionary Forces. Representative of the Greater United Nations and the people whose mandate I carry.” I declared proudly, garnering yet more quizzical looks from the dragon.

“And what pray-tell are these people?” 

“Humanity.” I responded politely.

“I see.” The dragon nodded, as if thinking the word over in some deep introspective thought.

A few seconds worth of this silence filled the late night air, before finally, the dragon’s shatorealmer mouthpiece broke the silence.

“I am…” The dragon forced the shatorealmer to pause, as a deep, gravelly, bassy rumble emanated from within its throat.

“KAELTHYR!” It spoke in its actual tongue, the word felt… raw, almost forced out of a throat that clearly wasn’t designed for speech.

“I will not have this… Nexian filth despoiling my name, not even in death.” The dragon shook the shatorealmer’s corpse for added effect, sending a shiver down my spine. 

“Understandable.” Thalmin acknowledged with a smile and a nod.

To which Kaelthyr could only grin toothily, gesturing to him with a ‘thumb’. “You carry good company, human. Now… let us begin in earnest.” The dragon moved forward towards the death-ridden cave, gesturing for us to follow.

We did so, reluctantly at first, stepping over bodies and equipment that Kaelthyr eventually addressed. “The bodies will be burnt. You will be spared… suspicion. You may take, loot, and plunder, at your discretion.” 

“So… Kaelthyr, I… must again apologize for assuming that you were—”

“A beast?”

“Yes.”

“Offense is only taken when a sapient mind refuses to change its stance at the sight of evidence which challenges it.” Kaelthyr spoke… in a surprisingly articulate way, garnering a nod of respect even from me.

“I appreciate the open-mindedness and willingness for dialogue, Kaelthyr.” I responded, garnering a side glance and a snort from the dragon. 

“Hmmph. You speak… in a manner quite rehearsed. Your words feel… not entirely of your own make. And your mannerisms… they beckon the inexperience and naivety of years far too short of a Matriarch’s. Indeed, by your own admission, you refute such a title.”

A second… non-Nexian aligned entity that immediately caught wind of the translation suite… I thought to myself, not necessarily sure if it was mere coincidence, but certain that this at least hinted to the dragon’s wit and analytical capacity.

“Correct. To address the former… Within my suit exists a complex system, one which has been carefully constructed through a painstaking dissection of High Nexian, allowing me to speak in my native tongue, through which this system outputs a functionally perfect equivalent in High Nexian. And to address the latter, yes. I don’t claim to be a matriarch. I’m merely a representative and a member of my people’s armed forces.”

The dragon’s eyes once more narrowed at my explanations, its head craning up to the dark ceiling of the cave’s grand ‘foyer’, as if once again in deep contemplative thought.

“And this is done without magic?”

“Correct.” I acknowledged vaguely, allowing the dragon time to process—

“How?”

“A complex system of mathematics — hosted, processed, and calculated instantly by silica-based substrates of immensely complicated design.”

Kaelthyr stopped so abruptly that the hovering shatorealmer stumbled in their wake. They lowered their head, whipping it towards me, lowering themselves until their muzzle hovered just a few inches from my helmet. Those sharp slitted eyes conveyed both a burning mix of shock and disbelief. 

“Sister, stop.” The shatorealmer’s voice cracked at Kaelthyr’s behest. “Do you understand what you are claiming? What you are describing?”

“I—”

“What you’ve just described isn’t the work of mere mortals, but an art, a calling exclusive to us.”  

Their eyes glowed a deep purple once more, paired with an assured certainty.

“You cannot be ‘human’, or mere flesh and blood. Not with such a craft. You… your kind must be a lost line. A daughter amidst daughters. Part of the crystalline legacy… masquerading in flesh.”