World Sphere - 182 - Storm Clouds Gathering

Chapter 182 Storm Clouds Gathering

Callystra rested on her throne in her palace on the Dark Moon. Her ebony skin glistened while she tapped her fingers. Callystra was one of many leaders within the Black Mauraders, a position she had held for over three millennia. A hatchling from her last brood a few centuries ago had perished on the surface of the Sphere. She didn’t support her offspring, believing in survival of the fittest, but always was pleased when they showed the power of her bloodline. She gave this particular offspring the name Kirigan.

Kirigan had traveled from the Dark Moon to the surface a few decades ago. She had not heard from him, but that was not unexpected. Black dragons were, by nature, independent creatures. After she lost connection to his life force, she requested information on his demise and got a very general report. He had worked for the Black Mauraders as a procurement Captain and had done well for himself. She thought he called himself the Sky King, a suitable name for a black dragon. He had sizable influence in a tiny region of the Sphere and dozens of skyships that would answer his call.

At first, she assumed his death was due to the meddlesome Adventure’s Guild, but instead, he had died on some obscure floating islands. She had assumed it was from his own failure and would have let the matter rest, but she did have a thread of maternal instinct—or at least some desire to wreak vengeance. She requested an official report from the Black Maurader’s Bureau of Sphere Affairs on Kirigan’s death and operations. It had taken two months to receive as the wheels of bureaucracy turned slowly, even for one as powerful as herself. Not that time was a concern to her.

That thick report now sat in front of her. The report detailed the Sky King’s requests for ships and funds to secure the floating islands for a base for the Black Mauraders. The bureaucracy had moved surprisingly quickly, approving the coin and ships for his operation. There was a note in the report that Kirigan had leveraged his hoard and promised a two-fold return on the investment of the Black Mauraders. She assumed they had already confiscated his hoard now that he was dead. Apparently, her hatchling was betting on some ancient sealed archives in a black tower on the island to repay his debts.

Callystra couldn’t quite let things lie. She could go to the surface and exact her own vengeance, but that would stir up the Adventurer’s Guild. She still had a sizable bounty on her from her own youthful dalliances on the Sphere’s surface. Dealing with dozens of gold and platinum adventures would be a pain—and dangerous for her health. After debating for a few days, she transformed into her impressive draconic body and stretched, her scales cracking in the flex. It had been some time since she last assumed her natural form, and it felt good. She roared in pleasure, rumbling her palace.

She took to the air, her kobold and elven attendants scattering for their lives as their mistress dove into the gaping hole at the end of her throne room. The hole led miles below the surface to an underground city she controlled. There, she had her agents, powerful shifters that could carry out her actions on the Sphere’s surface. The city was in a massive purple-lit chamber, hundreds of structures dotting the bristling streets below her as she flew. She headed for the balcony of the tallest structure and returned to her humanoid body as she landed softly.

She walked unconcerned into the building as the gray-skinned shifters bowed to her as she passed. It felt good to be worshipped by lesser beings. A tall feminine shifter met her and kneeled, “Queen Callystra, how may we be of service.” Queen? She recalled that she had told them to use that title a few decades ago. Had it really been that long since she had visited this city?

“I need an agent sent down to the surface to gather intelligence.” She said and gave a hand sign for the shifter female to relax and stand.

“It will be done. Where are they to go, and how many agents do you wish to send, Queen Callystra?” She did find she liked being called the queen. Maybe she should talk to all her subjects more often to hear the term.

“Probably just a single agent will be sufficient. I want him to scout a place called the Skyholme Floating Islands. They are not impressive, but they still need to be taught a lesson.” She produced the thick report from her dimensional storage and handed it to the surprised shifter.

“Just a single agent?” She said, carefully paging through the report.

“Yes, after he reports, I will consider my retaliation for my lost hatchling.” Callystra waved her hand, dismissing the shifter. Maybe she should check in on her other cities on the Dark Moon? It was always best to remind them of your power every few decades and remind her rivals she was still alive. Maybe she would explore a dungeon or two to stretch her wings and collect a few aether crystals from their depths. Callystra took flight in her ebony draconic form again, heading for her favorite dungeon in a city on the surface of the Dark Moon. The final creature in this dungeon was a terrible facsimile of a black dragon, which she had always loved tearing apart.

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The shifter lowered the temperature of his encased shadows to hide his prescience. This Sphere city was backward, with relatively low technology and an even worse name. Goldreach? Who names a city aspiring to reach wealth? Just take it. He stopped the temperature from getting too cold as he didn’t want ice or frost to form. It was much too warm on the Sphere’s surface for him.

Queen Callystra had ordered a shifter to scout the Skyholme Islands, and he was taking his time completing the mission. The Sphere surface dwellers were no match for the residents of the Dark Moon, and he relished in overpowering them. He had been stealing tier-four dungeon essences from cities along the way, which he planned to gift to his progeny when he returned to his enclave in the depths of the Dark Moon.

He had erred in his last theft. It had not quite gone as planned, and he had tripped a high-tier alarm spell. He couldn’t reveal his presence to the Adventurer’s Guild, so he had been forced to kill everyone in the estate. It had been messy, but he had only taken minor injuries. He was recovering his aether now and hiding between the shadows while they searched fruitlessly for him. It would take a powerful tier-five scrying spell or ability to locate him.

He sighed in the shadows as the coldness spread through his body, invigorating it. A large rat broke his alarm array, and he flashed out with a morphed appendage to catch it and remove its head in a single bite. The crunchy bones were ground in his teeth, and he savored the creature’s taste, consuming it one bite at a time. Another spell washed over his shadows, and he had to admit they were persistent in their search for him. That had to be over fifty spells so far.

He relaxed to wait until the search blew over and looked at his loot. So far, he had collected five tier-four dungeon essences, which were valuable even on the Dark Moon. He was tempted to consume one but wanted to confirm their ability first. He was not proficient in translating dungeon script. It was best to wait until he returned. Consuming an anathema essence could kill him. He placed them back in his small dimensional bag.

Hours later, he snapped out of a half-sleep. Something powerful had just washed over his shadows. He ended his heat sink and got ready to act. Someone quite powerful was in the city. They hadn’t found him yet, but maybe it was time to move. He was close to his destination target, the Skyholme Islands. He shifted from the shadows to the material world. His gray flesh now had a pink tone, and he could pass for one of these humans. His glossy black clothes did stand out a little, so he forced them to be flat black instead.

He moved toward the skyship docks. His race was powerful, but one thing they could not do was use the ancient portal network. The Ancients who built them put in safeguards so that his kind could not use them to travel to the Sphere. If he did use one, it would force him back into his natural body and prevent him from shifting for hours—an unpleasant experience.

The safeguards were because they were feared throughout the Sphere. His people were the perfect hunters, assassins, and spies. They were born with a tier four ability to modify their body into anything their mind could conjure. They could use the ability to give them strength and speed far beyond any other humanoid.

He also had consumed a tier four dungeon essence ability called shadow symbiosis, which is why he was chosen for this scouting mission. His mission was to access the Skyholme islands and determine the most effective action to do harm to them. He walked the street and smiled at two young women walking. They giggled and blushed at him as he passed as he had chosen a pleasing form. Both looked tasty, but he had just filled his stomach with the rat. Another strong pulse washed over him. He decided he should focus on leaving the city.

His high degree of sensitivity told him that this new mage casting spell was refining it with each casting. Maybe killing all those adventurers was a mistake, but he couldn’t resist stealing the essence, as taking from the weak was in his nature.

He would have fled the city, but he learned in his travels that this was the best place to find passage to the Skyholme Islands. He hated traveling on skyships as he felt trapped while in the air. No shadows were close enough to escape into, and he could be cornered. Not that he feared any of these beings on the surface.

The docks came into view and were busy with dozens of skyships in every shape and size, loading and unloading cargo and passengers. He asked a young beggar boy, “Which slips have the passenger ships to Skyholme?” His voice was flat and mechanical with the translation ring, but the boy seemed unaware. Instead, he held out his hand for a coin.

The shifter considered and then placed a large silver in the boy’s hand. His eyes went wide in disbelief. Was it too much? Had he given himself away? The boy eventually found his tongue. “Those two ships on the end, the Fairy Ferry and Greased Grasshopper, are heading to the islands soon. You need to register yourself and submit to be scanned. They are looking for someone.” The boy said and was off running, probably to spend his new coin on some new clothes that didn’t smell so foul. He guessed the city guards were looking for the stolen dungeon essence.

The shifter walked down the dock and listened to the laborers. He eventually found an inn where a number of passengers for the Greased Grasshopper were waiting to board. He settled into a seat near two occupied tables and ordered food. The table to his right was a father with three daughters

The Father was talking to one of the waitresses. “I am headed to the islands to ply my trade as an aetheric thread tailor. I specialize in using dungeon material.” The shifter was fairly certain the man was trying to impress the waitress, and maybe it was working. The Father already had tickets to board and decided this was a good target. The youngest daughter got up to use the bathroom, and the shifter followed the girl who was half his height.

She entered a room, and the shifter followed her inside. On seeing him, the young human screamed, but she made no sound as the room was encased in his spell of silence. The shifter transformed into a monstrous creature with powerful jaws. The girl urinated and fell backward to the floor, paralyzed. Two bites later, the girl was gone, and he was licking up the blood on the floor. A few moments later, the girl left the bathroom to join her sisters and Father at the table. She remained quiet until a conductor came into the tavern and announced the Greased Grasshopper was boarding.

The shifter made to move, but one of the other girls shoved a pack into her hands for her to carry. The family made its way to the passenger ship, but the shifter was not impressed. The eldest sister put her hand on her shoulder, “Fiona, it is going to be okay. According to Father, Skyholme is one of the safest places in the Sphere.”

The shifter nodded and decided a sad face was the best mask for this occasion. At least he knew his name was Fiona. Mages were scanning the passengers, but as he had guessed, this family had already been scanned. The deck was crowded as the ship finally lifted off. The ship was not headed to the Capital, which was frustrating for the shifter. Instead, it was headed to a lesser of the islands called Titan’s Shield. What a silly name. Who named these places?

The shifter broke the fingers of two men who had wandering hands in the press of the crowd on deck. One had been directed at her, and the other at one of her sisters. Restraining his response against these weak beings had been difficult. The two men bit back their screams and moved away in justified fear as they had no idea how their digits had been fractured.

The skyship approached Slyholme, and the shifter was at the rail to mentally log the defenses and ascertain the Navy. He only noted two large warships before they descended too low into some extremely busy docks. These docks were even busier than the docks in Goldreach. But he noted they appeared busier probably because they were smaller.

One of the sisters elbowed him, and he almost retaliated but contained himself. “Look, Fiona! That is a hydra!” She was pointing at the side of the nearest building which had a scaled image of the beast. The shifter considered the artwork to be a decent rendition of a hydra. Not bad for a surface artist. Soon, they were off the skyship and shuffled into the city.

The shifter needed to get to the Capital eventually but could afford patience. Maybe there was another tier-four dungeon essence nearby. No, he caught himself. His greed had almost exposed him in Goldreach. He should be happy with the five he had liberated from the the undeserving surface dwellers so far. The Father ushered them to the other end of the city and to a fine tailor’s office. They entered as a group, and the only man inside frowned at them. The Father spoke meekly, “I am Master Tailor Desmond Cutter. We talked on the communication stones.”

“You didn’t mention daughters?” The man said while stepping away from a dress he was working on.

“Yes, the eldest is my apprentice. And the others…well, their mother was killed by the aether sickness a year ago. They will not be much trouble and can clean the shop.”

“I am not paying them,” the shop’s owner stated harshly but quickly sighed after studying the three girls. “The contract was for you. Room and board, and 20% of sales from your projects. I will feed them if they clean the shop at lunch and dinner.”

“If your work is as good as you professed it was, I will sponsor your Skyholme citizenship for you and your daughters.” The Father relaxed and nearly broke down crying. The shifter didn’t like being attached to such a weak individual.

“You will not be disappointed!” He reassured as he gained some spine. “Fiona, grab a broom and start sweeping. Jasmine, set up my workstation at the empty table. Erin, prepare a meal for everyone. Master Tailor Hannover is unmarried,” he told the eldest daughter.

The shifter could not believe he was tasked with with sweeping the floor of a lowly shop. Before heading to the capital, he sneak out and wander the city later that night to get a feel for this island.

Master Tailor Hannover was talking to the Father. “Your first task will be working on the cook’s uniforms for the busiest restaurant in Skyholme. You must have passed the Shiny Platinum on your way here?”

The Father nodded, “The place with the long line out front by the docks?”

“Yes, that is the place. The High Mage owns it, and everything must be perfect. If you fail in this task, you can consider yourself dismissed.” The Father swallowed hard and nodded. “Go to the restaurant and get their sizes.”

The Father nodded and looked over his daughters, “Fiona, come with me to record the measurements.” The shifter followed the man obediently back out into the streets and toward the restaurant.