ROD - Chapter 110 (Mira POV)

Chapter One-Hundred-Ten – Mirathane Stormborn – Darling – Part One

I assure you Senator, the facility we have constructed is impenetrable and entirely unescapable. There are a hundred failsafe protocols in place to neutralize the target and prevent her from leaving. There isn’t a creature in existence that could escape it.

-Chief Engineer of the Project Alcatraz V2 Noah-

I muse most days, staring at these boring walls, wondering if he wonders about me. It’s a foolish fancy that grows in my heart, one that I know he doesn’t share. Even still, I remember the first time I met him, the first time I caught his scent on the wind. It is a strange thing, scent, something I don’t think he would understand. Unless he… no, he wouldn’t want to be like me.

He thinks me strange, out of place. He seeks to use me like all the others before him, yet with him… I want to help. I enjoy being in his presence even if he is not mine to take.

Envy is an ugly thing. Jealousy is even uglier.

How can I blame him for not caring for me as I care for him. My heart sings differently than his. Humans do not feel in the way that my kind do. All he sees is the rough exterior that I show him to hide what I’m feeling. The fake advances to show I’m interested, yet if he actually… if he held me as his… if he kissed me, I don’t even know what I would do.

The kiss I stole from him, I still think about it, even now my heart races from it.

Drakaroth are not simple creatures, we only choose one partner, and there is only one chance for us to get it right. My mother told me as a girl that I would know them by the scent, and when I heard their voice, she told me it would make my heart sing and that they could make me laugh with but a whisper.

I miss her, my mother. As a girl, I was curious, foolishly so. Wandering where I was told not to venture, simply because I was told not to. Stubborn was the nickname my mother gave me. Flower was the one my father gave before he left us for the long march. The old witch of the weeping forest, she told me that if I stepped through the shimmering magic pool that I would find true love. That the path would be hard, but I would find it.

How foolish I felt when there was only destruction on the other side.  Every portal I travelled led to burning worlds and dead by the thousands, rising anew in undead legions of rot and chaos. At first, I believed it was chance that the Goddess’s disciples found me before the hordes did, how I rejoiced at first when I felt her presence. She reminded me of my mother. She was so warm… in the beginning.

It takes Drakaroth longer to level than other races, the system tries to balance us like that. For twenty long years I toiled under her, with the promise that someday she would help me return home. A home I had not been back to since I was six years old. When I hit level twenty and she forced my class to align with her wants. It was then that I knew that I had been fooled again. Goddess Jaledi’s love… is a fickle thing. When I refused to burn villages with children and help her new undead allies, she burned me instead, for months until my skin grew stronger.

I watched them ravage worlds… and I did nothing to stop them, for a long time, I was afraid. I clung to that legendary bow she gave me like a lifeline, but it was a crutch. A way to empty the despair of my feelings. The price for Heaven’s Bane is one I willingly paid, emotions for power.

Yet when I smelled him, when I heard the lullaby of his words, even with Heaven’s Bane’s curse, I still felt it exactly as she told me. For Drakaroth are magical beings, ones born from the dragons of old. Our lineage is as old as the first runes carved in rock. My grandmother said we are like magic made flesh. It is why the System tries to avoid us in their precious games.

And still, somehow I ended up playing their wicked games. The things my hands have done in my goddess’s name… they haunt me. Just as I know that he is haunted by his nightmares. We share that, he and I. When I heard him crying out in the night during the quest, I wanted to go to him, I wanted to hold him and tell him that he is not alone. But I was afraid that he would abandon me if I showed him a softer side of me. My experiences have taught me that weakness is never respected. My only value that I can offer is my strength. I can see it in his eyes, he seeks power. Not like the foolish lich that I despised, but like my father did, the power to protect.

The ring he gave me spins on my finger, I do not need it, not anymore, but the sweetness of a gift given without asking… it is precious to me.

Jimmy, a strange name on my tongue, but one, I cherish. When I met him, I remember wondering if the witch had actually told the truth. A bitter memory, when I had hope that he might feel the same for me. Then I saw her. She is everything I am not. That woman… Cleo he calls her. Grungy whore I consider her… no, that’s not true though is it?

She is kind without trying, thoughtful and caring. Beautiful like the first flower after winter. She even smells wondrous. No… I do not hate her, but I do envy her. It is hard not to be jealous of her, she is everything I wanted to be when I was a girl.

I see the way he looks at her, and I know he will never look at me like that. That is a pain that cuts at the hope I feel. One that I try to ignore by thinking of his gift. I know he finds me attractive in body, I can sense the change in him when he looks at me. But beyond that… there is nothing. No longing to hear the melodies that our love could sing.

Because beneath my flesh, I am ugly and broken. He must know this, he must see that I am unworthy of love. Unworthy of being even his second choice.

My head lowers to look at my hands. Would that I knew him in another life, one where I could be proud of my past, prideful of my accomplishments… but I can’t. This is my life, I look at the walls again, stark white and plain.

That’s fine though, there are other reasons to live besides love… like vengeance against that fucking bitch Jaledi. My darling killed a god once… now I have to convince him to kill another. How do I do that though?

This prison they keep me in, it is lonely, besides Sylfie to keep me company there is little to do. She sleeps most days, the lazy little bitch. Though I don’t blame her, she’s biding her time like me. There is little to do except watch the images on the screen. At least they’ve given us this. It is unlike me to comply and stay locked up. The thought of him coming to rescue me like some fairy tale princess is what keeps me from leaving. That and… the root beer they provide is quite exquisite.

The screen changes as I watch it, they call this the news channel. Humans are strange creatures. Chronicling every little thing. My eyes narrow, there is something different about the screen today, something that I did not expect. I turn the volume up, waking Sylfie in the process. She huffs smoke at me and readjusts herself on the white leather couch.

“Breaking news, a source inside the UWO has leaked photos of the prime suspects involved with the attack on the London WHA headquarters building.”

My head tilts at the screen… Darling… what have you done?

The newshuman clears their throat, “We’re going to switch to a live broadcast from the UWO themselves. Standby.”

An anthem begins to play and I see the crest of their world government appear on the screen. A person that dresses like that bitch Senator Alveria is in the center of the screen. A small text box below them says Senator Crane. A weaselly looking man that I wouldn’t even let polish my boots, let alone speak for a world.

“Citizens of Earth, I bring ill tidings. Most of you already know the terrible news, the WHA has been attacked all across the globe by a terrorist organization, we’re still working to unravel their motivations. Rest assured that we are bringing the full force of the UWO to bear in order to apprehend these heinous criminals.”

The man motions to his right, a picture of my darling and some of his friends appears.

“We have pinpointed the main assailants for the London branch and begun a manhunt for them. If you see them, or hear anything about their whereabouts we urge that you contact the UWO immediately. They are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. Do not attempt to apprehend them yourselves, enough lives have been lost today.”

The word hunt lingers in my mind, who are they to hunt him? He who has slain a god, if anything they should worship him, how dare they. I sigh, my darling has been naughty it would seem. I’m not entirely sure what is going on, however, if he’s been naughty, so can I. Standing, I stretch, “Come Sylfie, we’re leaving.”

She looks up slowly, a low rumble of approval comes from her throat.

Making my way to the door, I pause for a moment considering my options. See, when they built this room around me, they assumed that Drakaroth, or Dragonborn as they know us are stronger than humans. My hand grips the handle, they were right. A normal Drakaroth is roughly ten times stronger than a human.

I am not a normal Drakaroth, my lineage is long and proud. Forged from the aether of magic itself. My ancestors are legend among my people.

The metal bends under my grasp. The door folds as I peel it from the wall, cracking the concrete that held the frame.

Alarms begin to sound, but my pace is steady and measured.

“Mira! Halt! Get back in your room!”

I smile at the guards with their weapons pointed at me, “Which is it? Halt or move?”

Their brow furrows, mine does not.

My hand swipes through my menu, I haven’t claimed any levels yet, perhaps I will. My hand clicks the yes icon on my level up rolls.

[ Rolling… ]

“Mmm, I’ll be wanting some root beer for my travels. Do you boys know where I can find any?”

***

“Come on, Sylfie, you’re being slow. Perhaps you’re getting fat from all those quails they were feeding you.”

Sylfie growls a puff of smoke as she jumps over the unconscious guards. I can feel her animosity through our connection. Our levels aren’t high enough for her to speak into my mind yet. A shame, I miss her voice, she can be quite funny, and sassy too.

This is… fun I think. It’s been too long since I could just smash things. The walls are reinforced concrete that is very thick. The problem with concrete is that it is brittle when struck with sufficient force, like any stone. If they had used a more flexible and absorbent material it may have slowed me more.

Thankfully, I had the forethought to pretend I was weaker than I was when they measured my abilities. Just in case I needed to escape someday. I had hoped that my darling would come for me. But now with these people hunting him, that won’t do.

In the next set of obstacles I see a thick metal vault door, I tap my fist on it. It feels thicker than the length of my arm. Perhaps too thick even for me. If Sylfie was a higher level, her dragon fire could melt it. As for me, I don’t think I can get it hot enough. Not to worry, this build was clearly made with humans in mind.

A voice comes on over the loudspeaker, “Mira, why are you trying to leave?”

“I’m bored.”

“We can bring you some games if you like? Or how about a root beer float?”

“No, I think I’ll go exploring and find some fun of my own, thank you.”

“You won’t succeed in getting past this door. Even if you did, there are more beyond it, ones that are resistant to heat and…”

“Who said I was going to use the door?” I query, looking at the walls around me.

They’re stone walls, like this bunker prison was hewn from the bedrock. Somewhat foolish of them not to reinforce the natural stone. Oh well. Life is full of lessons. My fist breaks the stone wall with a tremor, it’s tough, but with the added strength from my level rolls, it won’t be difficult. Magic entwines around my bones and muscles as I strengthen my body.

“Mira, you’re not seriously thinking you can…”

The wall trembles as stone falls in sheets, I punch my way past the hinges of the massive door, until I come to the other side of it.

“Goddamnit Mira, would you stop this? What do you want?”

I can’t help but to smile as I punch my way past the next door and the next. Each one is more impressive than the last. There was an old adage that I heard once, a door is only as strong as the hinges and frame around it. How right they were. Gas fills the air, I can tell it’s the kind that’s meant to make you sleep. It won’t work on me though, Drakaroth are highly resistant to toxins. Sylfie snorts a laugh and let’s out a massive roaring fart toward the intake vent before blasting it with flame. The gas stops coming after that.

“Mira… can you please stop breaking everything.”

“This would be easier if you just opened the doors.”

“We can’t do that.”

I shrug, “Then I’ll let myself out.”

***

The facility was surprisingly redundant with the number of blast doors as they call them. Each one was a different composition of elements. Some of them may have been effective if they had wrapped the facility in it. Alas they didn’t.

It’s nighttime when I reach the fresh air, but you wouldn’t know it with all the buzzing from above. Helicopters I think they call them, five of them with large drum lights that spill out across the ground. There’s a small army waiting behind concrete barriers. Soldiers by the look of them.

Tearing through them would be easy, their weapons will not be enough to subdue me if I focus my mana into my skin. Darling wouldn’t be happy if I hurt his fellow soldiers though.  

Opening the last can of root beer I found in their breakroom, I down it merrily. Such a sweet flavor. Crumpling the can, I stare out at them, magic pulses over my skin and causes it to shimmer with runic scales.

I’m coming, darling.