“Indeed,” the Ambassador replied, “You are wise for your age.”
Slate thought the comment was oddly phrased until he realized that the Ambassador in front of him was quite old. The man had lines in his face that spoke to many years of stressful employment. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Slate to recognize the age of other individuals. The Faithful, Guardians, and members of the Scourge had an ageless quality about their features that made it an afterthought. When they were brought into the fold of Lucidus, they seemed to been blessed with an extended lifespan. Slate considered that he would probably appear quite young to the Ambassador. He wouldn’t be quick to disabuse the man of the notion. The elderly liked to feel superior to the young when it came to logic and cognition. It made up for ailing bodies and weakened immune systems, he supposed. In reality, age didn’t determine cognitive ability, but the experience certainly helped.
“Thank you for the compliment, Ambassador,” Slate said, refusing to betray his thoughts. He was about to say something else when a system message appeared in his vision.
WARNING! Your capital city, Bastion is under attack! If your city management system is destroyed, your connection with the Lord of Light will be disrupted!
It took all of Slate’s discipline to keep the panic he felt from crossing his face. The Ambassador took the Scion’s silence as an invitation to speak.
“You’re probably wondering why I was waiting here for you,” the Ambassador began.
Slate recovered smoothly. “Well, I did find it strange that you were up so far past your bedtime,” Slate said wryly.
The Ambassador chuckled, appreciating the joke. “Indeed, Scion. Well, let’s get to business. The Lord of Fire has informed this one that he doesn’t have much time before the guards find the mess you left, and then the time for conversation will be over.”
Slate frowned at the mention of the deity talking to the Ambassador directly. It wasn’t that he believed that the Lord of Fire couldn’t speak to his followers, but the communication was an indication that the Lord was paying close attention to the events within Koral. That didn’t make him feel comfortable at all.
“I’m sure the Lord of Fire has already informed you of my plans then?” Slate questioned. He had two reasons for asking. First, he didn’t like to repeat himself if the Ambassador already knew what Slate was going to ask him. Second, he wanted to see the degree to which the Lord of Fire had inserted himself in the happenings of Koral. It would likely change his plans going forward.
The Ambassador shook his head. “No, Scion. The Lord of Light hasn’t deemed this one worthy of such knowledge.”
Slate nodded his head in understanding. “The immortals don’t always see fit to include their followers in their machinations.” Slate’s voice had the world-weary tone of a man complaining about his wife to a friend. It wasn’t genuine ire, just the good-natured bitching that someone develops over time about the people they loved. Despite the light tone, the Ambassador acted like he hadn’t heard the entreatment. Slate surmised that the Imperials looked poorly upon taking their Lord’s name in vain, even by extension. After a short, uncomfortable silence, Slate continued.
“I have approached the Empire in the hopes that we could work together to topple Koral.”
The Ambassador quirked his lips. “Why? Toppling the city doesn’t help you, it only helps the Empire. Once we take the city, you’ll still have two fronts to fight from.”
Slate nodded, accepting the man’s words. It was true, that’s what made his next request so crucial. “I would like to make an agreement with the Empire.”
The Ambassador raised his eyebrows, “Indeed? What would you like to agree on?”
The Scion felt like he was being toyed with for some reason. “The Scourge would like to give you Koral in exchange for a non-aggression pact until the Collective is defeated. We both know that their brand of magic is a stain upon the world of Somnium. They need to be eliminated.”
“Let’s say I agreed with you,” the Ambassador took a sip from his cup before continuing. “What would be in it for the Empire?”
Slate had anticipated the question. “You’ve been in a standstill with Koral. Once you break it, you’ll be able to flank the rest of the Collective’s forces. According to the locals, your goal has always been eradication, but not at the expense of your forces. Opening up the Collective’s flank is an opportunity for the Empire. Meanwhile, the Scourge will seize the interior.”
Xu seemed to think about the proposal, before finally speaking. “It’s true, we have been at a standstill with the city. There are rumors that a legion of soul-forged warriors are inbound to reinforce the city. However, the Empire hasn’t devoted any ground troops to Koral. We are content to keep our soldiers safely on their boats in the bay.”
“What if the defenses of Koral were split wide open, and the people were begging for your intervention?” Slate asked
The Ambassador adopted a thoughtful expression. “If that were the case, the Emperor, blessed be his name, would likely approve the conquest of Koral. He is unlikely to commit our forces unless he is sure that victory would be swift and without unacceptably high losses. He doesn’t want to lose that many of his troops, he can ill afford their loss when the Empire is at war elsewhere.”
Slate was somewhat surprised to hear that admission about the Emperor and the state of the Empire. There weren’t many empires that were concerned with the loss of their forces. Especially when they were fighting elsewhere, they usually had plenty of vassal forces to draw upon.
“I see,” he said slowly. “I imagine that the Scourge will be able to crack the city wide open for your forces. I don’t expect that you will have many losses.” Slate gestured to the door. “Especially as their defenses are poorly managed. I have found the Collective rely on their corps of Vallyr too much while neglecting the training of their common conscripts. Without their leaders, they tend to fall apart.”
The Ambassador nodded slowly. “You’re correct. The Collective is a slave plantation run by a few masters.” The Ambassador leaned back in his chair and stroked his long beard. It extended past the center of his chest and made the man look wise and imperious.
Slate merely watched him. Neither of them projected anything more than patient reflection. In these types of talks, it didn’t serve either side to rush to a decision. As Slate watched the Ambassador, he realized that the man was looking past Slate and staring in the direction of the fire just beyond him. Suspicious, Slate activated his enhanced vision. As he thought, there was a shining presence in the light behind him. It seemed that either the Emperor or the Lord of Fire was communicating with the Ambassador. That was useful information. It meant that the Empire had better long-range communication techniques than the Scourge. That meant that the Empire was even more deadly since it could make decisions like these on the very edges of their territory. The Scourge needed to use a chain of members to extend the Scourgemind. The Scion had collected plenty of intelligence this evening. Even if the Empire didn’t do what he wanted them to do, it would still have been a productive outing.
After long moments, the Ambassador seemed to return to the present. “The Emperor, blessed be his name, has accepted your proposal. When should our forces be ready to attack?”
Slate considered the fact that Bastion was somehow under attack. He would need to accelerate his plans so that he could get back to the city. “The Scourge will put our plan into action tomorrow at sunrise. We hope to capitalize on the confusion caused by the death of their high lords.”
The Ambassador nodded. “Then we each have plans to make this evening. Do you have anything else to discuss with the Empire, Scion?” The man’s voice was polite, but Slate could detect an undercurrent of arrogant satisfaction. It was such a different tone than the one that the Ambassador had previously used that Slate immediately became suspicious. The Ambassador knew something that Slate didn’t. Slate considered whether he should interrogate the man but ultimatel
y decided against it. He needed Koral to fall, and he couldn’t make it happen without the forces of the Empire. He also needed to get back to his city. He could fly back tomorrow after they enacted their plan, and the rest of his forces could catch up. The danger to Bastion couldn’t be overstated. The faster he returned home, the better their chances.
Slate stood up and nodded imperiously to the Ambassador in farewell. Slate would never go so far as to bow his head to a lesser being, but he would show a modicum of respect when it was politically expedient to do so. “Have a good evening, Ambassador.”
“You, as well, Scion,” Xu replied.
Slate left the room as furtively as he entered it. Within a few minutes, he had exited the fort and returned to the ramparts. The alarm still hadn’t been sounded, but Slate knew that it was imminent. The Ambassador had implied as much during their negotiations. Slate wasn’t sure how he had known; he didn’t think that the Lord of Fire had any precognitive abilities, but in the world of Somnium, it was imprudent to think that he couldn’t. Slate spread his wings and flew into the cold night.
While he was flying, he pressed a finger to his ear and spoke quietly.
“Bastion, what’s the situation?”
For once, the city management system didn’t perform any of his usual antics. “My Lord, the city is under attack by Mordryn, the Vallyr assassin. I’m having a difficult time locating his exact position within the city. I suspect divine intervention.”
Slate frowned as he passed over the city below like a vengeful shadow. “Mordryn? He should be dead. What happened?”
There was a pause on the line as Bastion seemed to be running simulations through his mind. “Earlier this evening, I picked up a conversation between a Guardian and the Imperial Ambassador. It seemed nothing but a midnight rendezvous. I had already passed on the information to Mella.”
Slate did a mental check as he tried to remember who Mella was.
Ah, Matek’s replacement, he remembered suddenly. He hadn’t had much interaction with the woman. He hadn’t included her in many of their internal conversations. He didn’t trust her yet and still preferred to run all of his intelligence decisions through Matek and Bastion.
Bastion continued. “However, their conversation was abruptly cut off by a strange interference. It sounded like the crackling of a fire.” The avatar paused so that Slate could consider the information. Bastion was well used to Slate’s methods.
“So, you think the two got into something they shouldn’t have.” Slate stated
“Indeed, my Lord, there was a sword that Lynia placed in one of the lighter storerooms. I think it fell into enemy hands, and Mordryn was released from its confinement.” Bastion replied.
Slate frowned and spoke his thoughts out loud. “I didn’t realize the sword was a prison,” he mused.
“I didn’t either,” Bastion said quietly. “My Lord, I apologize. I should’ve caught this sooner.”
Slate interrupted him. “You already said there’d been divine intervention. We can’t plan for every eventuality. I did think the amount of Guardians we left behind would’ve been able to fend off anything short of an invasion. What’s the damage so far?”
Bastion sounded surly. “Not much for now, I can’t sense the individual or the Imperial Ambassador. Now and then, I feel Guardians dying all across the city. The attacks feel random but calculated. I think you’re being drawn into a trap.”
Slate nodded. The assertion was likely, but he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t go back, Bastion would eventually be taken, or their rule would be completely undermined.
“Where’s the city management token?” He asked the city.
“Deeply hidden where you left it, my Lord. Whoever this is, isn’t likely to find it anytime soon. I’ve instructed the Guardians to run interference, and I have them responding to the deaths of their comrades.”
Slate sighed. There wasn’t much more Bastion could do. “Thank you, Bastion. I’ll be home soon.” His tone was wistful; part of him was tired of continually getting stabbed in the back while he was turned away. The other part of him started to rage. Bastion was his, and he wouldn’t allow an interloper to take it away from him. But first, he would take his vengeance out on the ones that betrayed him. Mordryn was just a tool. The Empire was clearly to blame for his current situation. He couldn’t do much to them, and he had already set up Koral to fall, but he could make it a bitch to take the city.
He returned to the warehouse that the Scourge occupied and landed heavily. He projected alarm through the Scourgemind, and he could feel Sumnu, Serena, Fidem, and Matek respond immediately. They sprinted up the stairs and let themselves on to the roof. They gathered around Slate, who met their looks grimly.
Did any of you receive the same message that I did?
Looks of confusion spread among the three, and Slate felt annoyed. What use was a priest with a connection to the Lord of Light if she didn’t even inform him when their hometown was under attack?
Bastion is under attack, he told them icily. Mordryn is back, and he’s causing chaos back in the city. Bastion doesn’t think that he’ll find the token anytime soon, but the longer we allow him to stay there, the longer he has to find it and put a premature end to the Scourge.
Fuck, Matek replied eloquently. He has to know that, Matek mused. You’re obviously going to rush back to protect the token. If it weren’t for the fact that the token would disappear if removed from the city, we would have just taken it with us.
What are we going to do? Sumnu asked. His mind, like always, was turned to the practical. He didn’t particularly care about the strategy that Matek and Slate seemed to enjoy discussing.
Fidem didn’t reply, but Slate could see that he seemed to be elsewhere. Slate figured he was communing with whatever forces he had access to so that he could discern the truth. A few seconds later, he returned.
See anything, Fidem? Slate asked.
Not much, my Lord, Fidem replied. For once, the man’s voice held a note of respect. All I can see is a dark blade in the night, and a black flame wreaths it. I don’t know what it means, but I sense danger. There’s a real threat to the city management token.
Slate gave the priest a quizzical look. Well, that was useless. He sighed before continuing. The plan will continue. We’ve already set Koral up to be cracked open. However, instead of allowing the Empire to storm their way in, we’re going to destroy their ships in the harbor. They betrayed us, and we’re going to show them what happens to people who break their trust with us. No matter what, Koral will be put into a position that the Collective won’t be able to use us, and when they go to reinforce it, we’ll have already beaten back their invading army. Slate paused and allowed the leaders to assess the information. I’ve earned the next evolution, so I’m going to advance tonight, help the effort tomorrow, and then make my way back to Bastion tomorrow. We can’t allow the city to remain in danger. You will have to head back tomorrow as well.
Serena frowned and said fiercely, I don’t like the idea of you leaving you alone.
Slate smiled at her. Good thing I won’t be going alone, then, he told her smugly. He waited for her to realize what his evolution meant.
Oh shit, she said once she realized. If you evolve, that means Shale evolves. If Shale evolves, that means I evolve!
Slate nodded. You’ll get wings, Slate noted casually. You’ll be able to accompany me to Bastion.
Fuck yes! Serena cheered. I’ll look like an actual woman again! Do you know how hard it is to look sexy as a fucking walking, talking lizard?!
The others laughed at Serena’s outburst. Most of them had forgotten the advantages of their previous bodies. They weren’t sure if it was a combination of the mental influence from the transformation or if they simply enjoyed the power endowed on them by their new forms. Even Slate smiled at Serena’s newfound exuberance
Alright, make sure everything is ready for tomorrow. I need to commune with Lucidus and figure out what happene
d to allow me to evolve. I expected her to wait until after we had toppled the city.
The three Firsts nodded in confirmation and made their way to attend to their various duties. Serena remained nearby and stood guard over Slate as he relaxed into a sitting position with both legs crossed. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but Slate had long ago realized that the Lord had something of a mean streak. When she inevitably pulled him into her realm, she didn’t make it a smooth transition. It would be an ignoble end if he fell off the top of a roof while talking to his deity and cracked his head on the road below. As he closed his eyes, he allowed the clenched grasp he usually held on his psyche to relax. The first flakes of snow began to fall from the sky. The city didn’t know it yet, but this was the preface to a winter storm, the likes of which the city hadn’t seen in years.
Meanwhile, far away, the Imperial soldiers in their ships prepared to disembark. The orders to invade had been issued and they prayed to the Lord of Fire for protection. They knew their Emperor wouldn’t spend their lives recklessly and, after so long waiting in their creaking ships, they were ready to bring blood and fire to the city of Koral.
CHAPTER 22: THE DRAGON RISES
SLATE CLOSED HIS eyes to pray to the Lord of Light. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. He didn’t strictly need his lungs to breathe anymore. His body was mana-forged and didn’t have the typical biological needs such as food, water, and oxygen. He followed the air as it entered his nose, down his throat, and into his lungs before going back. The circular process helped him center his mind and open himself to the divine. Slate’s natural tendency was to close his mind to all external influences. Even the Scourgemind, convenient as it was, seemed like an invasion of his privacy. Soon, he found himself in the realm of Lucidus.
“Welcome, back,” she said with humor in her voice.
Slate opened his eyes and looked around the realm. It was the first time he had taken the time to observe his surroundings when meeting with the immortal. The air was scentless and clean, and there wasn’t a hint of breeze or moving air. The space should have felt stale, but it was the opposite. A blank white expanse stretched for as far as the eye could see. There was a floor made from celestial marble, but it only extended from where Slate sat and where the goddess floated. Beyond that, it seemed to dissipate slowly. There was light all around them, but like the Ambassador’s chamber that he had been in a short time ago, the illumination was directionless and ever-present. Some might have found the light harsh and piercing, but Slate felt comfort in Lucidus’ realm. His body seemed to drink in the ambient mana and feel restored. It was the only thing that felt like more than a dream.
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