Unbound

"Captain, we've found something." Tarok calmly set down his glass of brandy and looked up at the man who had just rushed into his tent.

"Calm yourself, Lieutenant Gigg. What did you find, and where?"

"Just underneath the keep, in the tunnels you've had us excavate." Lieutenant Gigg lowered his voice, despite the fact that they were in the warded command tent. "We've found some sort of vault."

Tarok wiped his hands and pushed aside his midday meal. "Show me."

A short time later, Tarok and twenty of his officers walked beneath the low ceiling of the undercroft. Here, the ancient dead had been interred, placed beneath cairns with draconic statues laid atop them. Tarok sneered at the sculptures, his hands aching to seize his arming sword and bash them apart. But they were the honored dead from a time before the breaking of their Oaths. They did not know that they lay with traitorous serpents.

Vessilia Dayne had no such excuse.

"Through here, sir." Lieutenant Gigg led Tarok through a narrow, broken wall, where several Dragoons with hammers stood at ease. The wall had once been a solid thing, but their tools and strength had made short work of it. The moment Tarok had seen the undercroft, he knew secrets were hidden among its depths, just as he knew that the doors above led deeper into the mountain. Now his certainty was rewarded, as the lieutenant led them all to a great metal door. It was perhaps twice the size of any man and three times as wide, with odd spiraling details around its outer edges. A strange star-shaped orifice was centered upon the circular portal, shadowed but clearly containing some sort of locking mechanism.

"Have you managed to open it?" Tarok asked.

"Not yet, sir."

"This, sir." Gigg picked up a large chunk of masonry and hurled it at the door. It hit and seemed to halt entirely, its momentum stolen as faint flashes rippled across the entire surface. Only after three heartbeats did the masonry fall, clattering to the ground. "It is heavily warded, sir."

Tarok smiled, failing to contain his eager delight. "Divert everyone we can. That goes for all of you. Your strongest soldiers need to be in here, working at this ward. I want this vault opened yesterday."

Gigg saluted, as did everyone else. "Aye, sir."

All of his officers burst into action, racing from the room to collect their men, and Tarok gestured to the hammer-wielding soldiers. “Continue.”

A dozen Dragoons swung their hammers at the frame around the door. Their blows never landed, but instead lost all momentum less than a span from the door. Tarok leaned closer, watching the ripples that each impact sent across the wards.

“Again.” They swung once more. Tarok counted the ripples. There were more now. “Again.”

Over and over, the Dragoons hurled their weapons at the vault. Tarok knew enough about such things to know that it was only a matter of time. No ward could last forever. Soon he too would have access to the ancient Dragoons’ secret cache.

They belong to us, Smith, and neither you, your liege, nor that sniveling traitor will keep us from it.

Vess admired her new glaive, feeling the incredible balance in its full metal construction. The blade was larger than her partisan or even her original high steel spear. She could already see a number of ways for it to be used that were different than her partisan, which was primarily a thrusting weapon. This could slash and chop far easier, and thanks to a clever bit of enchanting, would be of particular use while atop a mount.

Her armor, however, had her hesitating.

"I am not sure I should be wearing this. Not yet,” she said.

"What's the problem?" Evie was a bit winded after carrying all of their gear up from Harn's forge and was resting in her wicker chair again.

Vess held up her set of arcanite armor. It was beautiful, all sleek lines and heavy plates that fully covered her entire body. A Dragon marked the breastplate, coiled above a spear.

"This is the armor of a Dragoon. I am not worthy of it."

Evie frowned. "How's that? Because some stuffed shirts didn't say so?"

Vess's hands grasped the helmet. It was also done in the style of Dragoon armor, but specifically in the style of a Dragoon Captain. It was a great helm meant to cover her entire skull and face, and it was crafted into the shape of Yintarion's head, down to the antlers and mane. It matched her glaive, in fact. She ran her fingers across the armor, feeling the inscribed emblem with a certain reverence.

Eyes straight from the path, Evie blew an obnoxiously loud raspberry. "Nah, they did. They got lied to, right? That means you deserve this armor more than any of them."

Vess smiled softly and glanced up from the helmet. "You have a way with words, Evie."

She reclined in her chair, hands behind her head. "It's a gift."

"Two chains?" Vess asked, spying them wrapped around Evie's waist in addition to a bandolier of throwing daggers.

"Huh? Oh yeah, cool, right?"

"Cool. You've been listening to Beef too much."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Kid’s got some useful words.”

“Why keep both?”

“What, am I supposed to throw away a perfectly good weapon? Nah, I've got some moves I can do with two chains, though it's taken some practice to wield them right."

"This is so much sturdier than my chitin armor," Beef marveled aloud, interrupting their conversation, despite his being over twenty strides away. He flexed his legs and arms, brandishing the armor there. "Not too heavy, either."

"I appreciate that Harn did not design you a breastplate," Hollow said. “Though I worry for your safety when I’m not around."

"We've just got to level up our Rise and Call Skills so we can order the Risen around more remotely," Beef said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "I'm so close to Adept. I can taste it."

"Hmm, yes. I can only barely control our Risen from here, and only with simple commands." Hollow peered out the large windows. "They're lingering in the waters, just outside the walls."

"Oh, Harn made this for you too, Hollow," Evie said, handing her a full ingot of that curious red-silver metal, arcanite.

"An entire ingot? That is generous," she murmured, the echoes of her voice subdued. "I will use it to grow strong enough to repay all of your generosity."

"Sure," Evie said with an awkward shrug. "I'm just the messenger, though. You can thank Harn with some cool metal or something."

Hollow nodded seriously. "I will keep that in mind."

Yin cleared his throat, drawing all of their attention. Vess noticed that her Companion was less than pleased at their delay.

"If we are all prepared, I will begin our summoning."

"Of course, Yin. Everyone, stand here," Vess said, gesturing to an area a dozen strides from the circle. "And keep your weapons to hand," she added, under her breath.

"Vessilia, where is the Autarch and his Companion?" Yin asked.

"He's down there, on the keep wall," Hollow said before Vess could answer, pointing back toward the window where she looked through. "He's doing some sort of sigaldry."

"Good, then neither will interrupt us." Yin flew over the summoning circle counterclockwise. "They are both too strong to be near this. Their presence will foul the summoning, drawing the Grim to them instead of us. Evie, if you sense them approaching, get them gone."

Evie shrugged. "Easy enough."

Yin flew toward the Minotaur. "Beef. As I told you before, I require your Skills to capture the Grim Nightshade alive. It is powerful and as elusive as shadow itself and will be the greatest challenge of your young life. I must convince it to aid me, but it will not be willing. To bargain, we must best it in battle first."

"I thought you said no hurting it," Beef asked, brows drawn in confusion.

"You must trap it without harming it," Vess explained. "Your chitin is uniquely suited to such a task."

The young Unbound perked up at that. "Oh! Yeah, I guess it is."

"If you wish for encouragement, recall our bargain, young Beef," Yin said before swimming back to the circle.

"Oh my god," Beef's mouth dropped open. "Then with your new Evolution, you'll be able to—”

“Restore the Dragon eggs. Yes, that is what's at stake. The future of my kind."

Vess stepped closer, right to the edge of the summoning circle. "We will not fail you."

"No, it is I that must not fail, little Dragoon." Yin started taking laps around the circumference of the circle, counterclockwise again. "Places, everyone."

By Vess’ feet, the sands began to take on an unearthly glow.

Yintarion swam faster. "The sun is high, and the summoning begins."

Beef was sweating bullets.

Yintarion spun above the summoning circle so fast he was barely visible as anything but a golden ring that caught the midday sun's light. Below, the sands gleamed with their own illumination that spread from the outer edges to every curve and line. The jar, tufts of fur, weird stick, and all the rest soon started to glow as well, each one a different color Beef hadn't seen before. White-green, deep blue, blackened-gray, and brilliant orange. It was only when he saw the dusty-brown and bright golden light did he realize that he was seeing Mana.

Soon that Mana shot inward, contained in the negative space formed by the twisting sand, until it described a strange and confusing shape. Simply staring at it made Beef feel nauseous, as if he'd ridden the Tilt-A-Whirl after eating too many hotdogs. It wormed into his Mind, and he could almost understand it. If he stared longer, maybe—

The Mana reached the center, where a large, speckled bird egg sat, and the shape vanished. Beef blinked, but an afterimage was scarred into his eyes. The power of the sticks and crystals was completely spent, and the objects themselves broken or burnt.

The egg cracked.

"Careful," Vess warned.

"Somethin's comin' out," Evie said, fixated on the egg with an expression that was two parts fascination and one part disgust.

Beef tensed up but refrained from hefting Bedlam. The hammer would make him feel safer, but he couldn't attack the thing. He had to rely on his other talents.

The egg broke away, pieces of it shoved outward where they shattered on the hard stone floor. Instead of a bird, though, what emerged defied all expectations.

A large kangaroo mouse hopped out of the egg. It regarded them with big, black eyes before washing its whiskers with a single, adorable paw.

“Greatest challenge?” Beef asked, unbelieving.

Evie chuckled, and a wave of relief swept the entire room.

“Do not underestimate it,” Yin warned, now slowing to a stop. His golden gleam still remained, glinting off his metallic scales like stolen light. “I come to you, spirit, to request a barter.”

“Barter?” A surprisingly deep voice came from the tiny beast. Its black eyes crinkled at the edges, as if amused. “What does a Wyrmling dare to offer me?”

"I am a Dragon," Yin corrected firmly. "As such, I bear within me the capability to gather an incredible amount of significance. Significance that could be yours."

The Grim tilted its tiny head but said nothing.

"I—I aim to return the might of the Dragons to the Contient, and in doing so bind them all to the Grim Nightshade's power. It would offer you a great feast of significance over the many Ages we Dragons live—"

"Hm," the Grim interrupted. Its voice was like thunder on the horizon, and it made Beef flinch with each syllable. "Mortal lives are confusing, Wyrmling. Time is of no meaning to me save for when I have been..." it considered its form. "...trapped in flesh. I recall the Dragons, and the ancient pacts they once made with me."

Yin nodded eagerly, floating closer to the creature. "Yes. Yes, that is what I seek to restore. A time of cooperation and—"

"My pacts were squandered, however. In the end, the Dragons failed the Green Wilds." The Grim hopped closer, not quite touching the still-glowing sands. "For they bound themselves to treacherous mortals. Servants of the Oathbreaker."

The tiny thing looked right at Vess, and a chill crawled down Beef’s spine.

"Dragoons."

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