Unbound

Despite the rough landing, almost everyone was fine. When the bindings were released they were merely sore, bruises at worst. Nothing was broken. Pit was fine too, which had worried Felix for all of the second it took for him to review his Companion’s Status Sheet.

The only one truly hurt seemed to be Yintarion.

“I am Yintarion of the Cerulean Sky! Acknowledge me!” he shouted for the third time into the sky. The giant Dragon statue, easily three hundred feet tall, glimmered briefly with light as it responded the same as it had two other times.

Authority Rejected.

“Ridiculous! Preposterous! This Fenweld is clearly in disrepair,” he muttered, floating about like a snake that swallowed a beach ball. The final bits of the Superior Elemental’s core were in his clawed hands, now no bigger than a marble. “I must Evolve. To not recognize my noble mien or piercing gaze? A tragedy of that magnitude must be rectified.”

“Of course, Yin.” Far from amused at her Companion’s annoyance, she seemed wholly distracted by the large doors before them. Her Spirit, which had flowed through anger, grief, and joy in the last few hours now emanated a sense of quiet wonder.

Felix came up to her as she studied the designs carved into their metal surface. “So…Wyvarran Royal line? Do I call you princess now?”

Vess chuckled. “Oh please, no. I am no more a princess than Harn.”

“But your mother…?”

“Was of the Wyvarran royal family, yes. A distant cousin. Which makes me forty-sixth in line for the throne of Wyvarr.”

Felix rubbed his chin. His beard was really starting to come in, now. “Huh. Well that’s fancier than me.”

Vess flicked her golden-brown gaze up to his blue one. “Felix, you are the Lord of three entire Territories.”

“Oh. Right. I forget about that, sometimes.”

Her small smile dimpled her cheek. “You are a very silly man.”

“Try not to spread it around. I’ve got a reputation, you know?” He threaded his fingers through her own and pulled close. “You’re okay?”

“I will be, once we’ve removed these raiders.” She ran her hand across the metal door, tracing the wings of some draconic creature. “I cannot fathom why my father hasn’t destroyed them already. Nor why Hierocratic Priests were involved. I need answers.”

She pushed lightly on the doors and a glimmer of that sky blue Mana surged across the carvings. It opened.

“Then let’s find them,” Felix said, before casting Abyssal Skein on everyone. It flowed from him like a cold, oily cloak that made all of them shiver. Even the Eidolons. “Form up on me.”

The doors opened up into a hallway that was just as wide—and just as empty—as the elevated platform they had landed upon. The entire place was clearly designed to accommodate Dragons the likes of Yintarion before his transformation. The floor was tiled but thick with grime and spiderwebbed with cracks, its patterns often incomplete or shattered entirely.

“It’s nice to spread out in here,” Pit said, stretching his wings to full. “Almost makes me feel tiny. We need to visit more places like this, Felix.”

“How about we make one?” Felix asked. “You deserve somewhere you can feel comfortable.”

“Ooh, can I pick the location?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Siva’s—Felix, look at those columns. They’re remarkable,” Vess said, their hands still firmly clasped together.

Felix huffed a small, surprised breath through his nose. Those look like the pillars in my Omen Path.

Columns carved with more Dragons were spaced every twenty yards or so, and there were ten marking the long hall. Where they intersected the ceiling they spread outward, often forming an exhaled breath of the Dragon carved below. Felix picked out rock carved into flames, icy crystals, solid beams, and even clouds. They mingled and wove into one another, forming a complex lattice of elements that faded to thin lines as the designs reached the centerline of the ceiling. There was carved a massive spear, its blade pointed at the door they had entered and its haft extending the full length of the hall.

“Wow,” Evie said, stopping next to Vess and Felix as they gazed up at the ceiling. “That’s…pretty. I guess. Weird thing to decorate a roof with, though.”

“I have never seen its like,” Vess said quietly. “But see where the breath mingles together? And then those all pour toward the spear?”

Evie squinted, trying to take in all the details. “Uh, yeah. I see it.”

“It’s symbolic.”

“Like those metal music things?”

Vess nudged her with an elbow. “Shut up, I know you know what ‘symbolism’ means.”

Evie chuckled. “Sure, sure. So it’s all, what? Everyone blasting their magic? A big group attack?”

“It is a creed. A promise that the Dragoons were founded upon: We Stand Together.” Vess shivered. “Look. It is carved there, into the haft just below the speartip.”

“Huh. So it is. I definitely saw that,” Evie said, arms akimbo. “You know I’m not great at reading, right?”

“I am aware. It is something we should change.”

Felix allowed himself a small smile. Evie was very good at cheering Vess up. As the two talked, Felix continued to comb over the hall’s features. Apart from the central path and columns, the greatest feature were the discrete areas between each carved support. A wall equal in thickness to the columns separated them from one another, extending back to the rear wall to form a square space that reminded him of stables more than anything else. There was nothing inside of them though, save for accumulated grime and dust.

“False Nests, where the bonded Dragons could rest between missions,” Yin explained when Felix’s gaze lingered too long. “In my day the least of us remained near the gates, while those of greater power and size would be afforded a true Nest.”

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“False Nests?” Beef asked. “As in, the dungeon thing? Like a mini Domain?”

“Correct. These are the lowest accommodations, saved for Juveniles and couriers.” Yin slithered across the room, snout testing the air every few feet. “Their scent still lingers, but it is piled high with dust and char.”

Beef hesitantly sniffed at the air, as did Hallow. “I smell nothing,” he said.

“I smell…” Hallow flowed off of Beef’s chest and onto the ground. She strode over to the side of one of the Dragon stables and brushed away an Age’s layer of dust. Beneath was a cluster of gleaming orange crystals. “Crystallized Mana. Fire, it seems.”

Tzfell crouched beside the Homunculus and ran her hands down the watermelon-sized cluster. “Residue from the fortress’ formations, no doubt. Seeped out over many years. Look at the growth. It started there, along the wall and pooled here.”

“I see. Yin, do you mind if I—?”

Yin shrugged, but there was a sadness to the gesture. “Take it if it will help you, Hallow. Its previous owner has no need of it any longer.”

Felix traded a glance with Vess, but she only nodded encouragingly. “Take what you need, Hallow.”

“My thanks.” The Homunculus bowed before placing her big stone hands over the crystals and morphing her appendage until it subsumed the entire thing.

“So does that mean the higher up Dragons had real Nests?” Archie asked. “As in a tiny subspace where you could just live?”

“Indeed. As we are designated monsters by the System, the strongest of us develop Domain Cores eventually. The Dragoons made use of it, expanding their fortresses and providing their members a form of controlled training. We Dragons culled our Domains, kept them either clean of other beasts entirely or weak enough that the Dragoons could do it for us.” Yinarion sighed wistfully. “A proper fortress was a bastion of hope and comfort. A much needed thing, especially in my earliest memories, when the wars raged strong.”

“Wait, what wars?” Archie asked.

“Ancient ones. Done long before this Age.” Yin floated away, seeking Vess. “Come, little Dragoon. Let us explore what remains of our order.”

Fortress Mana Stores Low.

Resealing The Emergency Gate.

Felix flinched at the sudden announcement, but he spun, claws lifted instinctually. But there was no enemy, just architecture. The doors leading back to the water tunnel slammed shut, followed by the muffled sound of a wet explosion that shook the ground beneath their feet.

“Guess we can’t go back that way,” Archie said, more than a touch nervously. “My Swimming Skill ain’t that good yet.”

“We’ll head out the front once we’re done here,” Felix said, lowering his hands. “Beef, you and Archie—”

“I need to stay here and help Hallow,” the Minotaur said. “There’s more crystals to absorb.”

“Oh, of course. You do that, and the rest of us will move onward.”

“Right.” Beef swung his warhammer toward the next False Nest. He hit nothing, but the wind from its passing sent the layers of dust hurling backward like a supercharged leafblower. Beneath it was another large cluster of Mana Crystals.

The rest of them continued down the hall, taking care to inspect each False Nest for any threats. There were none, but it didn’t hurt to make sure. At the end was an open archway sixty feet wide and twice that tall, almost extending to the ceiling. It spilled into another corridor that split in three separate directions.

“Vess?” he asked. “Does your book discuss the layout of this fortress?”

“No, but I was taught that all Dragoon fortresses were designed to be identical. Clearly some things have changed,” she said, gesturing to the hall where Dragons once rested. “But I am willing to bet that there is little difference otherwise. Follow me.”

Yin settled onto her shoulder. “Confidence! Very good, Dragoon.”

“Hm, I’ll play vanguard,” Evie said, slipping ahead of them. “Just in case.”

Felix went to follow, but Eagin stopped him with a gesture. “Lord Colossus, my apologies. We would ask that you remain within our protection while the fortress is explored.”

“I—” Felix swept his senses across all four Eidolons before inclining his head. “Of course, just make sure you keep up with me.”

“Naturally.”

“After you.”

“Very good, my Lord,” Eagin rumbled, clearly pleased. All of them were. It sang from their Spirits like a warhorn as they guarded him from all four directions.

While the corridors beyond the False Nests weren’t nearly as wide, they were thankfully still designed to accommodate huge creatures. The tiling on the floor continued, faint patterns showing through the dirt. Plants had invaded the fortress in a number of places, poking through the cracks in the floor and trailing down from the distant ceiling. Vines and ivy and flowering buds abounded, beautiful despite or perhaps because of where they blossomed. Life thriving in a place long abandoned, if not forgotten.

“Why don’t the Dragoons still use this place?” Laur asked idly as they walked. Vess was ahead, chatting quietly with Evie and Yin. “It is damaged certainly, but the complexity of sigaldry and wardings I can detect are advanced. Far more than what I know is common in Pax’Vrell. If this were restored, they could have a true foothold in the Rimefangs.”

“My understanding is that the farflung holdings of the Dragoons were abandoned long ago when they were deemed ‘unnecessary,’” Tzfell said, rubbing a cloth across a section of the wall. A vibrant mural was revealed beneath inch-thick layers of gray dust. “After the Hierophant conquered the Territory, all Dragoon activity was restricted to a five league radius around the city.”

“Reducing their power,” Felix said, connecting the dots.

“Precisely, my Lord. The Hierocracy typically absorbs local forces into its own units or greatly restricts or removes their authority. All in the name of peace.”

“Control,” Laur corrected, and Felix was surprised at the heat in the mild-mannered Chanter’s voice.

“Always that,” Harn agreed. “I don’t have any love for the redcloaks, but the Hierophant is no fool. When she conquers, she leaves nothin’ to chance.”

The tattoos on Tzfell’s head writhed and her expression was sour and pinched. “Yes. Respect for one’s enemy is hard to stomach, but the Hierophant must never be underestimated. Neer is suffering now for exactly that.”

Neer. Right. Weeks ago, the Hierocracy had invaded the Territory with a full army and claimed it as their own. How many others were getting the same treatment? And why? They had no idea.

“Tight squeeze,” Archie said, moving between the tromp of Eidolon feet and the Chanters. He looked up at Iiana and stroked his goatee. “Hey, Felix…do you think I can Stoneswim through one of them?”

“Unwise,” Tzfell murmured.

Felix pointed at the Dwarf. “What she said.”

“Alright, fair. But could I? Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? Press the limits of my Skills?”

“Huh. Hard to argue that point,” Felix admitted. “But I’d rather you wait until you’ve mastered easier, less hazardous things. You or the Exults could be killed.”

“Hmm,” the Delven said. “Alright. Anyway I was coming over to ask what the plan was. There’s raiders and we’re in their base, right? I got kinda lost during the whole ‘rah rah go get these bad guys’ talk Vess was giving.”

Felix smiled. “First plan is recon. We need to know what these raiders want, where their hostages are, and how to stop them.”

“I don’t get it. Evie said they were weak. Why not just—” Archie mimed an explosion followed by sword swinging and what seemed like lobbing grenades. “—and then just mop up when we’re done?”

“Aside from the kids they have hostage?” Felix asked, eyebrows raised.

“Aside from them. Let’s say they’re safe. Why bother figuring these people out? Just kill ‘em, take what we need, and everyone’s lives will be better, including the kids.”

Felix stopped, forcing everyone to jerk to a halt. “Are you so comfortable with killing, Archie? I’m not, and I’ve killed so many. Not just unintelligent monsters either. People. I’ve wiped out armies—thousands of beings—because things went beyond talking and reason. Because of zealots and power hungry warlords and worse. We’re not beyond that point yet. I’m giving them a chance. A choice.” Felix’s eyes burned as he stared down at the small man. “Understand?”

Archie swallowed. “Y-yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Good.” Felix straightened and strode off. “Keep walking. We’ve got ground to cover.”

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