There were three doors in the corridor that Slate could see from his perch on the throne. They were located in each cardinal directions. All the doors were closed, but they looked to be made of heavy, silvery metal. Each one had depictions of Scourglings transforming into a variety of different shapes. Slate hadn't seen many of them, so he assumed that were depictions of the clutch to come. In the center of each door was a large stylized sun consisting of silver and gold flames. The edge of the doors bisected the symbol perfectly.
Looking down at his throne, he saw many of the same depictions of the Scourge were carved into the sides and back. An intimidating dragon-like creature with wings spread and breathing fire took up the majority of his back. At the top of both thrones, another sun made from intricate flame resided. Slate was quickly coming to recognize this as the personal sigil of the Lord of Light and the Scourge more specifically.
Unlike the last throne room, these thrones were upon a raised dais that was meant to look down on visitors. There were no tables or seats for an advisory council. This was a room meant for pronouncements and judgments and little else. Slate hoped that there were more rooms because having a meeting in this room would be counterproductive.
The ceilings of the room stretched far above where he sat. On every side of the octagonal room above the first floor, large stained glass windows with more sigils of Lucidus. The windows allowed silver and gold-tinted light to shine down on the floor below. Slate was struck by the beauty of this building. He hoped that when he decided to tour the city, it would look much the same.
He realized that Shale hadn't been teleported to this room and he hoped that she had stayed with the clutch. He figured that since the last palace had featured a hatchery, this one would as well. After drinking in the room around him, he decided it was time to accept his other gift.
Your level cap has been removed. You have met all of the faction requirements for a major evolution.
A familiar burn began to spread through his body, and unlike last time, Slate could watch the progression of his transformation. The first thing that happened was that his body shrunk from its previous seven-foot-tall frame to something approximating six and a half feet. He was still tall in comparison to most humanoids, but he wouldn't tower over them as he had done before.
His face began to burn and itch, and he held his claws up to them as he felt the changes that were being wrought. His raptor-like head became something closer to an elf's. His face became more human as the lizard-like traits were smoothed out until they became a closer fusion of humanoid and beast. He had high cheekbones with almond-shaped eyes that smoothly transitioned into a small pair of pointy elf-like ears. He had a dainty and thin nose that gave his face a fae-like appearance. His mouth returned to a standard human shape, and he could feel his teeth grow smaller to accommodate the new version.
Running his tongue along his teeth, he could still feel its prehensile utility, and he felt as if he could lengthen or shorten the tongue on command. His teeth remained as razor-sharp as his previous formation. Feeling along his jaw with his hands, he could feel an extra bit of flesh that let him know he had a hinged jaw that led to a bony and strong chin that had a separation between the two sides.
Experimenting, he realized that he could unhinge his jaw at the sides, and his chin would stretch apart like an insect's mandibles. He could stretch his mouth inhumanly wide, and his tongue would lengthen considerably. It was a nightmarish transformation that Slate knew would cause his enemies to run in fear. Upon his brow, he felt two small horns grow from just above his eyebrows. They were only a couple inches long, but they were razor-sharp as well.
Feeling along them, he realized that he had grown hair as well. It was white and swept back from his head and descended down behind his ears and to his shoulders. He ran his hands along his face and felt that there were still scales along his face. They had become so fine that they were indistinguishable from typical skin if it weren't for their golden luster.
He looked down at the rest of his body. He still had six claws and talons on each limb, but they had shrunk and become a better fusion between man and beast. Alongside the backs of his hands and on the knuckles, they had become heavily armored. He figured that he would barely feel anything if he tried to punch something. His body still resembled that of an upright walking lizard. The main difference was the scales along the inside of his body. The had smoothed out enough to look like tawny-colored skin. Rapping his fist against them experimentally, he discovered that they were still as strong as they were in his previous incarnation.
In contrast the smaller scales on his torso and central locations, the scales on the outboard part so his body such as his back, elbows, forearms, shins, and knees had become more heavily armored. His elbows and knees especially grew small ridges that would cause massive damage when added to a strike. His tail remained much the same. It had become smaller, but Slate felt that he had an even more refined control over the limb. He tested it with a few experimental movements, and he was pleased with its continued utility and lethality.
The most jarring change was the addition of two large dragon-like wings on his back. He felt like he had excellent control over those limbs as well. He could move and flap them as easily as he did his own limbs. Without conscious thought, he relaxed them, and they tucked themselves using two large prehensile claws over his chest and covered him like a large cloak.
Overall, he was impressed with his new body. He had lost none of his deadly powers as a Heritor and yet he now had a more human body consistent with his desire to have better diplomacy. He was finally a Scion.
As he was marveling at his own evolution, he felt a spike of alarm through the Scourgemind. Clearly, he was too far away to hear Shale's thoughts, but the panic that was running through the bond was enough to have Slate sprinting towards her location. He could feel that she was close by, but below him. He found another door that he hadn't seen earlier behind his throne that led to the floor below. He threw open the doors and took the stairs down two at a time. The unrestrained fear in that he could fear from Shale was continuing to grow, and he hoped that he would make it in time.
Chapter 27: Attack on the Clutch
Mordryn had followed the running elves while remaining cloaked in shadow. While most of his brethren had used soul magic to pursue, Mordryn had picked another path to power. His shadow magic, developed over two centuries, was part of what made him the best assassin in the Collective.
The escapees were running in a direct line towards the citadel in the center of the city. Like all Vallyrian-controlled cities, Mordryn knew that it held the ritual chamber for the Vallyr in charge of the town. It wasn’t hard to keep pace with them. After many years of practice, he moved at speed while remaining in the cover of the darkest shadows. It was already close to twilight anyway, so he wasn’t afraid of being discovered.
With casual observation, he noticed that there weren’t many guards in the city. It looked as if he had killed half of them in the compound, leaving the other half here in Bastion. He smirked to himself. He would have to finish the job. After that, he could head east to the coastal city, Koral and rouse an army to take back control of Bastion. The civilians would be easy pickings for his troops. After a purge of dissidents, the city would be right back where they belonged–under Vallyrian control.
When he reached the entrance to the inner city, he paused at the gate. There were a couple of Scourge warriors, standing guard. He quietly used the shadows to slip past them. He didn’t want to kill them right now and prematurely warn his actual prey. Once he reached the citadel, there was a hive of activity that made him nervous. The warriors that had fled from the forest were hurrying around. They were being guided by their fellows into lodging in the immediate surroundings.
He had seen no sign of the Scourge leadership, but he knew they must be within the citadel. The question still remained what the leadership would look like. The armor of the soldiers hinted at their monstrous origin, b
ut he remained skeptical. He had never seen the eggs that were supposedly here as well. If they were going to be anywhere, it would be in the central citadel. It was part of the hubris of the powerful to take the largest and most opulent building in the city. Just once, he wished that his victims would have been smart enough to pick some out-of-the-way basement. It would at least make his task more interesting as he had to hunt them down. This would be as easy as catching a Taurian with a sack of apples.
He waited until no one was focused on the door, and then he slipped inside the citadel. He found himself in a large foyer with a spiraling staircase that ascended on his right and a staircase that descended on his left. Vallyrian architecture was generally the same wherever he went, and this citadel was no different. The floors above him would be living quarters for the highlord of the city, and the top-level would be their ritual chamber. On the ground floor, there would be meeting chambers, a dining room, kitchens, and staff lodging. Down below would be a couple of stories of storage, an armory with guard lodging, and the very bottom floor would have a small prison for private or political prisoners.
Mordryn considered where he would put the clutch as he hid in one of the shadows of the staircase. Up top would probably be the closest to where the leaders would be, but it also made the eggs more vulnerable. Alternatively, putting them in the lowest levels would put an entire floor of guards between the clutch and the entrance. He doubted the guard quarters were adequately staffed at the moment, but the instinct would be the same. This was especially true if his prey were animals. The idea of a den underground would appeal to their tastes. At least, that was what his experience with other beast-like races told him.
Making the decision, he slipped quietly down the stairs. The first two floors were storage areas like he presumed and a quick perusal didn’t indicate that they had been regularly used in quite some time. He descended further, noting footsteps had disturbed the dust that had settled on the stones. While he was thankful for the information, he couldn’t help but be annoyed about the fact that the Vallyrian high lord had allowed his citadel to be in such a state. He should have had slaves down here regularly scrubbing to keep it in an appropriate state of cleanliness.
He passed the armory and guard quarters and found them completely empty. Curiously, the quarters still had many of the personal effects of the individuals that used to reside there. The occupation of the city had to be relatively recent. It also couldn’t have been a protracted battle. None of the rooms looked like the guards had planned for a lengthy siege. In fact, they looked like the guards expected to return that night and sleep in their beds.
He finally reached the lowest level and stopped at the portal between the staircase and in the room. The bottom tier was a circular room that had cells that surrounded the central chamber. There were only five cells, but Mordryn could see that there were several eggs within each jail cells. They were large pearl-colored orbs about the size of his two palms cupped together. On its own, that wouldn’t have been interesting, but directly in the center of the chamber, a monster sat.
He couldn’t tell the sex of the creature, there weren’t any distinguishing characteristics that he could recognize while it was sitting down, but it had a thin serpentine body covered in glittering scales. The silver and gold of its hide reflected the torchlight in the room like a chest full of jewels. If it hadn’t been covering a creature clearly designed to stalk and kill its prey, it would have been beautiful. The monster was sitting in on the ground with its legs crossed and its arms held palms upon its knees. The wicked claws and talons of the creature glinted with cruel intent, and the beast had its eyes closed in its snake-like head.
The most striking thing was the long tail that wound its way around the creature. At the end of the tail, a menacing blade extended. Even from this distance, Mordryn could tell it was meant for both stabbing and cutting. It looked impossibly sharp, and with his experience with blades, he would bet that it would pass through armor and flesh with little resistance.
As he was crouching on the precipice of entering the world, a blinding white light overtook his entire field of view. He stumbled backward, caught off guard, and feared that he had been discovered and attacked. He instinctively drew two knives from his belt and held them up defensively. After a moment, his vision returned, and he was awe-struck by where he found himself. Instead of a basement jail cell, he discovered that he was looking at a cavernous cathedral-like room crafted from stone. It resembled an underground sepulcher, and the architecture lent it a ceremonial air. The ceiling stretched far overhead, and he noticed that it was unfinished with pointed stalactites looming dangerously. Large columns stretched from floor to ceiling and held the roof aloft.
Candles flickered in recessed spaces that resembled the honeycombed hive of a bee. There were thousands upon thousands of such alcoves, and in the distance, Mordryn abruptly realized what they were for. They were here to hold eggs. Previously, where the eggs had sat on the ground in the jail, he spied dozens and dozens of the pearly-white orbs resting in earthy receptacles.
∆∆∆
While he was caught in his own amazement of the chamber, he realized that he couldn’t see the monster anymore. His heart leaped into his throat as he threw himself forward into a roll. He heard a shrieking clang of a blade hitting metal, and when he regained his feet, he desperately looked for his attacker.
A hiss like an alligator reverberated throughout the rough stone interior. It was loud and intimidating, and even Mordryn felt his ancient heart pound with renewed vigor. It was the kind of sound the bypassed all thought and all reason and attached itself directly to the primitive part of the brain that warned of predators on the hunt. It had been generations since Mordryn had felt that kind of primal fear himself. He had usually been the one to inflict such emotion on others, and smelling the fear on himself was an unsettling sensation.
He still couldn’t see his opponent, but he held his knives at the ready. This wasn’t the first invisible opponent that he faced, but he knew that the monster had some way of seeing through his own shadow magic. He needed to find a way to expose it. Thinking of the eggs behind him, he turned and sprinted towards the back wall. He knew that attacking them would likely cause it to reveal himself. As he ran, he heard a scrabbling sound of claws against stone, he didn’t stop knowing that if he paused for even a moment, it would end with his death.
Just before he reached the back wall, a figured revealed itself, blocking his path to the eggs. His clinical eye took in the details of her—and it was definitely a woman—form in a fraction of a second. She was alluring in a way that he found somewhat disturbing. She had features that were close enough to be an elf as to be beautiful but then had the monstrous attributes that fused so ideally as to seem unearthly yet natural. Her face resembled that of a gorgeous elf with the high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes, and pointed ears that were common to their race. She had large, full lips that curled sensuously at the ends with a strange striation the bifurcated her lower jaw. She had long black hair that curled wildly behind her. Upon her brow, two small horns curled skyward above golden eyes with the pupils of a snake.
Her body was perfectly toned with full breasts and sinfully curved hips that would evoke licentious thoughts in any warm-blooded male. She still had small silvery scales that reflected iridescent light, but they were so finely wrought that her hide looked like natural skin as soft as could be found on any elf. If it weren’t for the fact that she was naked and yet still didn’t have visible areolas or vulva, he would think her completely normal, albeit, with skin that looked like molten moonstones.
That was where the approximation to an average person ended. She was positioned in a defensive stance with knees bent and claws outstretched. She had six claws on each hand and foot. The nails looked thin and dexterous like extensions of normal fingers. Her talons were a bit wider but still looked just as capable of subtle movements as her hands. Her tail was held at the ready by her feet where she kept
it rigid and prepared to attack. His eyes lingered on the blade, knowing it was capable of separating his head from his body with one fell swoop, before observing the rest of her body.
Along the outboard parts of her figure, he could see that the scales were significantly larger and thicker. It was a natural armor that looked capable of deflecting a full sword strike from the average human. He was quite a bit stronger than that, but he wasn’t confident he would be able to do much more damage than an average human. Her back, thighs, forearms, and shins looked especially rugged. Small spines extended from the edges of her elbows and knees. He knew that when they were combined with her evident power, they would become deadly weapons in their own right.
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