Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  Aziel chewed on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on the largest of the marked settlements, before he shook his head and sighed. There was no point in creating enemies of people he knew nothing about. There were other matters he had to focus on first—matters much closer to home. As long as the humans stayed in the south and didn’t do anything reckless, he could let them be for now. He glanced at Astrel. “So, what do we know?”

  Astrel pulled another scroll from her dimensional bag and rolled it open. Her hazel eyes flicked from left to right as she scanned through its contents before offering it to him. “There have been increased movement along the borders with the Kingdom of Maiv to the south and the Jannatin Empire to the east.”

  Aziel accepted the scroll with a nod. Since the claiming of the Central Wilds by the Fallen, word of the events in Whiteridge would have spread quickly, and their new neighbors would be scrambling to secure their borders. They would be wary of making any moves without knowing how his faction might react. This was why Aziel had done what he had to the town of Whiteridge—he needed his complete and utterly one-sided annihilation of that military outpost to be seared in the minds of those who might seek to harm him and his faction.

  With the Fallen truly on the board now, Aziel had expected the two quarreling nations to settle into a temporary stalemate, with one eye on each other while the other focused squarely on him. As he read the first few lines of the scout’s report, his expectations were confirmed: hostilities between the two seemed to have tapered off for the time being. With that said, Aziel didn’t know how accurate the reports were. The Grauda had been ordered not to reveal themselves for any reason, and not to leave the relative safety of the forest for long, so any scouting of the borders or plains were fragmentary at best.

  “Anything we should be concerned about?” Aziel asked.

  Astrel opened her mouth, but Celia—who had remained silent until now—interjected. “There have been some sightings of humans flying over the ruins of Whiteridge and over the southern parts of the forest.”

  “Flying humans?” Aziel asked, raising his brows.

  Celia chuckled. “I should have phrased it differently, though that would be a sight.” She moved to his side opposite Astrel, and pointed at the Jannatin border. “Unless something has changed in the years I was in the Central Wilds, there is only one possibility I can think of: Jannatin Cloud Knights.”

  Aziel frowned in confusion. “The Jannatins… can ride clouds?”

  “No, silly,” Celia said, chuckling again. “They ride a large bird called a Cloud-Hawk. Their blue and white feathers make them hard to see in the sky, which is why it sometimes looks like a human is flying alone. They are quite renowned in the Empire—we knew of them even in a village as remote and simple as mine.”

  Aziel hadn’t even considered having to deal with soldiers flying over his territory, but their presence made sense. They were hoping to discover where his faction operated from; his last known location would be a good place to start.

  Aziel raised the scout’s report again. The Princedoms of Odana were also suspected of sending in spies, but otherwise seemed rather placid. After completely giving up their claim on the Wilds, they had simply pulled all they could back across their borders. The report did mention groups of horse-riders patrolling in and around the border, but there was no way to tell whether that was simply usual behavior or a reaction to recent events.

  Aziel still wondered what the Princedom hoped to achieve by not contesting his claim. If he understood the World Seed’s intentions, he could safely assume it hadn’t expected the Princedom to do so. Was giving Aziel what he wanted Odana’s way of hoping to ease relations with his faction in the future? Or did they simply want to get the issue of the Central Wilds off their plate for another unknown reason, and saw this as the easiest solution?

  Aziel sucked on his lower lip thoughtfully before returning to the report. One brow inched upward as he read through the last point before turning to face Astrel. “Am I reading this correctly?”

  Astrel nodded, as if expecting this reaction. “It was the reason I came to find you, in fact. A day ago, one of my sisters and her escort went missing on their way back from their scouting mission, but by morning they had returned to our colony with a letter carved into a sheet of wood. They had been captured by a group of Dryads when they ventured a little too close to this grove.” Astrel pointed at the closer of the two on the map. “They were all released unharmed and the message was short and to the point: a proposed meeting between the leaders of the Sister Groves and the Lord of the Fallen in Soul’s Rest, tomorrow.”

  Aziel took in a slow breath, pondering this. What was their agenda here? Ever since his violent encounter with the Dryad Amber at the entrance to Soul’s Rest, the race had kept to themselves. But as one of the groups he needed to destroy or assimilate if he hoped to fully pacify and control the region, he was looking forward to finding out their intentions.

  Aziel rolled up the scroll and returned it to Astrel, who placed it back into her pack. Then he leaned forward and caught her just as she straightened, his hands sliding along her waist and moving to the small of her back before pulling her close for a kiss. Astrel, who stiffened for a moment in surprise, quickly relaxed and pushed herself up on her toes to wrap her own arms around his neck.

  His hands drifted across Astrel’s smooth and now much warmer skin as they continued to indulge their passions. But then Aziel felt a shiver travel up his spine, and was suddenly keenly aware of Celia’s gaze upon him. No matter how much time he spent with his beautiful Succubus, her gaze always elicited the same involuntary reaction from him. He had to physically will his body to relax from its defensive reaction to what it interpreted as being stalked… hunted.

  Aziel slowly broke the kiss, causing the queen to give a soft and frustrated moan. Her antennas tapped his head as they twitched erratically, her scythe arms rising higher. Aziel could clearly see her attempt to control her desire, as she forced her eyes to remain closed until the now quickened rhythm of her breathing returned to normal.

  He smiled when she finally fluttered her eyes open. “I just wanted to thank you for your hard work,” he whispered, releasing her from his grasp. Astrel remained frozen in place as he took a step back and turned toward the throne room, only allowing himself a momentary glance at Celia, whose expression managed somehow to be both predatory and sulky at the same time. “Let’s move on to the ground floor modifications, shall we?” he asked.

  “If I knew there was that kind of a reward, then I would have gone scouting,” Celia muttered from behind him.

  “You have been enjoying your ‘rewards’ whenever you pleased,” Astrel complained.

  “Hmm, I guess I have…”

  Aziel smiled as he heard Astrel stifle a laugh. He pushed open the double doors, and both of his women immediately moved to take up their places on either side of him. Astrel touched the stone that controlled the levitation platform, causing the runes lining its borders to glow and hum before beginning its decent.

  * * *

  As they entered the throne room, Aziel gazed about at the flurry of activity which met them. A never-ending stream of Grauda males hefting rocks of various sizes above their heads were flowing in and out of a new passage at the far end of the hall.

  He drew his finger across the cool surface of the marble and obsidian throne, and frowned at the growing layer of dust that covered everything in the once-immaculate hall. The Grauda may have been great builders and excavators, but they weren’t exactly clean.

  He and his companions moved down the newly hewn hallway, and Aziel found himself at last in his place of power. There were Grauda spread all over the vast, glittering crystal chamber, applying a black, mud-like substance to the walls as some form of reinforcement. He should have expected such a large presence now that their population had essentially doubled. With the earth crystals he had provided them and the resulting higher than normal birthrate of their females, it was in t
he process of doubling again.

  The once-rough chamber walls were being smoothed and flattened, as was the floor. Aziel moved past the eight enormous Capital Crystals which held up the chamber—crystals with no equal in the world—and stopped at his curved rock, atop which a rather large heap of grain-sized soul crystals had been stacked.

  Astrel picked one up and offered it to him, obviously proud. “My king, we collected all crystals of sufficient size which we will need converted into earth crystals. Vhal has suggested he will be able to imbue them with the Fortify enchantment, given the right substances and tools. These crystals will be needed for the new hallways and walls to ensure no one can dig or break through once we are done. I have also accounted for what we would need for the other parts of Soul’s Rest. Almost all of the enchanted earth crystals originally used to protect the structure of the fortress have dusted away, or are very close to doing so.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Celia said. “The only reason I found this place was because an earthquake broke open the front gate. The whole palace is built into the base of a mountain—I can only imagine the weight it’s carrying.” She gave the ceiling a short glance. “I don’t think this place would last for long without the help of some powerful enchantments.”

  Aziel rolled the crystal between his fingers. He considered using his All-Seeing Eye, but thought better of it. While the mana cost of the skill was low, his condition meant that any use at all caused his vessel to contract painfully, and though the consequences were mild when compared to actually weaving a powerful spell, it was not an experience he enjoyed.

  “Will these be enough? The ones you picked out are quite small,” Aziel noted, placing the crystal back on top of the pile.

  “With such perfect purity, they are actually quite large,” replied a throaty voice, echoing through the hall and followed by the clank of a staff against the floor.

  Aziel turned to see Vhal step through the new entrance, one hand drifting up to stroke his long beard. Aziel couldn’t help but smile; though Celia and occasionally Astrel had kept him company during his period in recovery, he had found himself missing his long technical, theoretical and philosophical conversations with Vhal.

  “Are you feeling better, my Lord?” the lich asked with a grin.

  “The condition persists, but I can move around adequately,” Aziel replied. “It’s good to see you well, Vhal. How goes the build?”

  Vhal frowned, and Aziel noticed Celia’s smirk, but she at least had the good grace to hide it by looking away. “It is going…” Vhal said. “I must say, it’s not the type of work I’m accustomed to, and I will be needing some rest to recover my mana after we are done.” He glanced at the Grauda queen. “Queen Astrel, I require the aid of your skill to mark the exact location for the new entrance.”

  Astrel nodded, and made her way toward Vhal.

  “Why do you need Queen Astrel?” Aziel asked, confused. “Wouldn’t one of the builders be better suited?”

  Astrel blinked. “My apologies, my king, it slipped my mind. After my many hunting trips into Arachne territory, I gained a new level and invested the skill point into my own builder skill.”

  “I didn’t think a queen would have such a skill,” Aziel said, curious now.

  “It’s an advanced form,” she replied, standing taller. “Wondrous Architect. It allows me to view a detailed representation of a structure, as well as make adjustments to give more precise instructions to the builders. It’s a skill only the Grauda Queen has access to.”

  Aziel looked at her, trying to imagine how such a skill would manifest. When he realized everyone was waiting on him, he quickly nodded his assent. “I’ll trust that you know how to apply your skills effectively.” After a slight bow from both her and Vhal, the two departed.

  Aziel tapped the top of his curved rock with one finger, considering the pile of crystals occupying his usual seat. Sighing, he glanced at Celia, who was watching a Grauda builder use his sharp scythe-like arms as pickaxes to flatten a particularly jagged section of the rocky wall.

  “Celia,” Aziel called, and the Succubus gave him a glance over one slender shoulder, her tail rising and curling to the side.

  “Yes, Master?” she replied.

  “Have there been more attacks from the Arachne lately? Astrel mentioned she had been hunting them.”

  Celia pressed her lips together and ran a hand through her long platinum hair as she closed the distance between them. “I’m not certain, but there have been no attacks on Soul’s Rest. They have historically targeted the Grauda colony, but I have heard nothing of an attack there for a while now either. It’s probably best to ask Astrel… I spent most of my time by your side,” she reminded him, as she rested her hand on his chest with a smile.

  Aziel smiled back, but his thoughts were distracted. He still did not know why the spider race had acted the way they had. Their motivations were a complete mystery—his only source of information about them was Astrel, and her race’s history with the Arachne certainly fostered a biased view against them. Even she had been puzzled by their sudden, overly violent and chaotic behavior of late.

  Aziel had used his Soul Wisps to scout the Arachne territory once before, but what he discovered had only raised more questions. The race appeared to be amidst a brutal struggle to rip each other and whoever they came across apart.

  If the attacks had lessened or ceased, then they might have resolved whatever internal disagreement they had? Or perhaps they had simply destroyed each other and could no longer mount an attack.

  Aziel instinctively prepared to use his Soul Wisps to see what more he could find out, but stopped himself. In his current condition, weaving such a spell on the scale required to reasonably cover that amount of ground would cause him to writhe on the floor in pain. So he settled for the next best thing: he focused on the second mark on his right wrist until gray runes began to appear in front of him to form his faction log.

  He navigated through the runes until one expanded to form the map representing his acquired territory. He had reviewed this map several times since he first gained access to it, and a few notable changes had occurred in the past few weeks.

  The territory to the west, across the river which the Arachne controlled, was now less than half its original size, whilst the opposite could be said about territory controlled by the group called Gorshak’s Horde. What had previously been many smaller territories had also begun to merge, and their influence now stretched across a large portion of the southeastern plains. With that said, there were still gaps in their territory, which Aziel realized were the human villages and towns Astrel had mentioned. It looked to Aziel like this so called horde was taking the opportunity to expand as the neighboring nations pulled back their forces.

  “Do we know anything about this Gorshak’s Horde?” Aziel asked. Like the Dryads, as an unaffiliated racial guild operating in his territory, he would need to either assimilate them or destroy them to the point where the World Seed no longer considered them a legitimate group. Assimilating was by the far the better choice, he felt, especially since according to the map they now controlled almost a fourth of the region, but Aziel as yet had no information about them.

  Celia shook her head. “I had never heard that name before you mentioned it. Did the Grauda mention it in their report?”

  “No, they did not. Perhaps you should scout them out?”

  Celia pursed her lips. “I thought we were more interested in the Ogre’i, being an ancient race and all.”

  “We are,” Aziel replied, scratching the back of his head unhappily. There seemed to be an ever-growing list of things they needed to address. “According to Astrel’s report, we haven’t been able to track them down. Not yet, at least.”

  Along with his hampered ability to use his mana, this was one of Aziel’s largest frustrations. Although the map supposedly showed the mountainous area where the Ogre’i operated, his Grauda scouts had been unable to find any sign of them. The lack of
progress on that front was not what Aziel wanted to hear.

  Then there were the Dryads. As their name implied, the Sister Groves was made up of two groves—each essentially a gathering of Dryads, or a Dryad town. Aziel knew a little about Dryads from his reading, and what he did know made them by far the most coveted group for assimilation. While he hoped the Ogre’i, as an ancient race, would provide an essential piece of the puzzle about his previous life by triggering a personal memory—just like the Grauda did—the Dryads were important to his development as an Ascended. The Grauda, though extraordinarily useful to his faction in many ways, provided him with comparatively little mana in tribute. He only felt their contribution at all due to their sheer numbers. What he needed were followers with large vessels; he needed weavers, and the Dryads were exactly that.

  Having an entire race of weavers would do wonders for his mana regeneration, but that wasn’t the only reason. Amber had been both an earth and nature weaver; if the others were the same, then they would be immensely helpful with the colossal undertaking the construction of Soul’s Rest and the rest of his newly acquired region presented.

  Aziel plucked a soul crystal from the pile and focused on it, intending to turn it into the earth crystal required for the enchantments. These Dryads, he needed them—but could he trust them? And would they trust him?

  Chapter 4

  Emily traced a finger along her bare thigh. While most of her wounds had healed, some had scarred. Accessing a decent healer was difficult—nay, impossible—when she along with every other Syndicate lord were being hunted all across the Ejani Eastern Provinces. The scars didn’t bother her; they formed a permanent fuel for her resolve.

  At least, that was what she told herself.

  She pulled off her shirt, and in the light of the room’s lone candle, looked at her reflection in the dirty mirror. After successfully smuggling themselves into Firma, the capital of the Fermont Satrapy, she and Ness had gone to work connecting with all the other groups which made up the Syndicate. As she had expected, these once-competitive enterprises were more than willing to put past grudges behind them in the face of this new threat to their existence. She had been holed up in the attic of this abandoned house for several days now, as Ness and the others scouted the city and potential targets.