Chapter 10
Deloy
It had been five days of utter silence for Ephidel; even now with their destination mere minutes away, the morph spoke not a word to Lasentis, nor she to him. Ephidel had been avoiding thinking about the situation overly much, because whenever he did he felt a feeling of anger descend like a cloud upon him–and he had no interest feeling such counterproductive emotions.
Lasentis was faring far worse, however. All resistance was shattered, rendering her pathetically complacent and perpetually on the verge of tears. Her eyes were slowly growing bloodshot, and she only continued to deteriorate as time passed. She had been completely broken.
But Ephidel knew that there was nothing to be done about it now, and the two silently drudged onwards towards the city of the earth dragons. He distracted himself by examining the city, which was nothing like Drasor, as far as he could tell. Of course he could not tell much, as it was less a city and more a castle, the walls of the vast stone fortress obscuring all from view. It was carved with a series of images that seemed to tell the story of the Scouring.
They walked up to an imposing steel gate that remained tightly shut before them. Ephidel was unsure what to do then, for there appeared to be no way to open it and he doubted that knocking would do anything. Fortunately there was no need for such action, as the gate rose on its own accord with a faint grating noise.
"What's your business here?" barked a fairly old ice dragon before they even took a step forward.
"We must speak with the Earth Dragon King," said Ephidel. Ordinarily he would not be so forward with his response, but because Morcere was the one ultimately in control here, he doubted that he would be denied.
"Follow me," grunted the guard. "He's expecting you, or at least a pair of people who look a lot like you."
They entered the building and the gate closed behind them. There were no windows, but the many lanterns along the walls and ceiling kept the halls very well lit. Many of the walls were carved here as well, and though Ephidel had no eye for such things, the amount of detail was surprising. Many sculptures and paintings were also present, not quite as common as the carvings, but every bit as extravagant.
They passed through several hallways and a few more flights of stairs than Ephidel was comfortable walking, but they finally reached the throne room. The Earth Dragon King sat tall and proud on his throne, his hands tightly clasped in front of him. He looked older than Morcere with his bald head and stern red eyes looking down imperiously on them. He wore a deep red robe with a black cape draped over it, both embroidered with gold stitches.
"You may leave," he said in his deep voice to the ice dragon who had escorted the two travelers. The guard left and Ephidel, Lasentis, and the Earth Dragon King were alone.
"I am Videir," he said, "and you are the envoys of Morcere. I am cognizant of why you have sought my aid and I am quite sure that you must wish to proceed, but Morcere was severely insistent that you devote a considerable sum of time to immersing yourselves in the grandeur of my city. Spend these next few days as you wish, but he was very clear that he wished for you to understand more about dragonkind–particularly you, Ephidel.
"He failed to oblige me as to why he wished it to be so, but know that you are the first individuals who are neither an earth dragon nor one who has sworn to follow us to have ever entered our halls in nine hundred years. Be honored by this privilege, but be humble–the Divine Dragon Clan is not well loved here. None shall cause you harm you while you remain under my protection, but expect no more than that from my subjects.
"Now, you are free to do as you please, but are you in need of anything that I may provide you with?"
"We're fine, you majesty," said Ephidel, recreating the bow that the guard had delivered before. From what he knew, Videir was the second most important person to dragonkind, and it was always useful to flatter important people. "What you offer already is more than enough for us. We are honored to receive your hospitality and the opportunity to speak with you."
Videir smiled at that. "Very well then. But there is one final matter: Morcere left a package for you in my care, and now that you are before me, I will deliver it."
With that he raised a hand and a small chest floated towards them from the side of the room. It presented itself to Ephidel, who took it with a puzzled expression.
"You are surprised," said Videir. It was not a question. "Morcere said you knew little of our ways, but I had hoped that the legends of the Earth Dragon Kings would have endured even through history told from the eyes of humans. But I see that it is not so.
"Our line has long been gifted with the powers of elder magic, and though rarely do we use it in the traditional manner, we have slowly unraveled the secrets of some of its deepest applications. My grandfather discovered how to make the demon dragon, and my father taught Morcere how to use magic, among other great feats. Even now we continue our search, until one day, we can become unkillable. Invincible.
"But I ramble. I am no fool to believe that this will be achieved in my lifetime, much less before our battles soon to come. Pay more heed to that which may actually aid our cause, and from what Morcere spoke to me, it seems as though that which is contained within the chest you hold before you may be capable of doing just that."
Ephidel lifted the hinged lid as prompted, and his eyes widened in surprise. Inside were around twenty crystal figurines of a tall and regal woman with long hair and feathers extending from her head. Goddess Icons. Morcere must have a fortune stored away somewhere; this was worth well over a million gold.
Only then did Ephidel notice the slip of parchment covered with Morcere's illegible scrawl. Lasentis seemed to be trying to see how far away from the morph she could get while still being able to see the note, and the two of them began to read.
I assume that you are now under the protection of my good friend Videir if you are reading this. Try not to be alone with anyone but him unless you have to because quite frankly most earth dragons would prefer both of you dead than alive, and Videir is the only thing stopping them from that goal. You can trust him with anything so long as you refrain from being idiots, but I doubt that either of you need to worry about that.
For now, though, you will explore Deloy regardless of what the other earth dragons may think. Ephidel, you know effectively nothing about dragonkind and will need to fix that immediately so long as you are living here. I doubt that you will get a full idea during your short stay there, but learn what you can. Lasentis, see if you can take a look at the recent additions to Videir's personal library; I have not been able to keep up with them for the past century, so there is sure to be something interesting on elder magic that I have not been able to teach you yet.
The only other thing you might need to know now is about everything that came with this note. I hunted down Anna and bought as many Ashera Icons as she had–and I would like to let you know how much you irritated her Ephidel. She is the only person willing to buy my tomes, so try not to do that in the future. Ironic then how most of these are for you, then; I know how terribly unfortunate morphs tend to be, and in these next few weeks, you'll need all the luck you can get. I was unsure how many you needed, so give the extra to Lasentis and one to Videir as well. Burn this message.
"Well?" asked the King when they finished reading. "What is it that Morcere would speak of?"
"He would like to thank you for your granting your hospitality to us," said Ephidel, "and offer you this gift in return, small though it may be."
Videir gave him a nod of assent to approach the throne, and Ephidel handed him one of the crystal figures before retreating again.
"Hmm. And what does he wish to receive in return? Nothing is free with Morcere; always it is a trade. A generous trade, mind you, but a trade nonetheless."
"If it is not too much to ask, Lasentis would like to look at your esteemed family's recent work in Elder Magic."
"That is truly the extent of his request? I hold no qualms with it; indeed quite the opposite is the truth. All those who can appreciate the magnificence of the great studies of the Earth Dragon Kings are welcome to learn the fell secrets of the dark arts contained within. But tread lightly before this magic, for just as you are capable of using its power, that very same power is capable of using you.
"But again I ramble. You may leave if naught else is required of me."
"We thank you again for your hospitality," said Ephidel with a final bow. With that Videir called the ice dragon from before to escort them to their rooms. After relieving themselves of their travelling gear, they were led to private baths and provided with a fresh pair of clothes, though Ephidel still insisted upon wearing his cloak despite its state of utter disrepair. Besides, the tunic that he was given had uncomfortably large slits running down its back, presumably to prevent the wings that the morph did not have from being confined within the garment.
When he was done, he found the ice dragon waiting just beyond the door. "Videir said that I'm to be your guide for the day," grunted the guard. "Where do you want to go?"
Ephidel thought about it for a moment. Morcere said that he wanted him to get a better understanding of dragon culture, but experiencing it firsthand was likely to be difficult if the earth dragons were as opposed to his presence as Videir and Morcere had suggested. Well surely they would at least have records of their culture somewhere.
"Is there a library?" he asked.
Without a word, the guard turned and began walking down the hall, and a few minutes later, the answer to Ephidel's question was apparent. The room was filled with row upon row of shelves lined with enough books to put the Royal Library of Etruria to shame, and a staircase in the corner of the room suggested that there was even more on another floor. A surprisingly large number of people were scattered about the room, though most were too busy reading to give the newcomer any notice and those who did promptly ignored him.
The morph had no idea how the shelves were organized and doubted that asking for assistance would achieve anything, so he picked a book at random and sat down in a remote corner of the room. To his mild surprise, he found that the ice dragon was still standing nearby and giving the distinct appearance that he wanted very much to be doing nearly anything else at the moment.
"You may leave," said the morph. "I'll be here for a while and I can find my way back to my room on my own."
"The King said that I'm to remain with you while you're outside your room. Everyone'll be less likely to say anything if you're with a dragon."
"Let them say what they want. I'll handle the King, but you leave."
It was a ridiculous statement, even if it was technically true, but it clearly set the guard wondering just how powerful Ephidel was. He turned to leave without further question. And with that, Ephidel opened the book before him and began to read.
He skimmed through it briefly and quickly determined that it was a satiric piece describing the ridiculous exploits of an idiotic human knight from some land named Kurimia. It told the tale of his journey through his country as he slew countless preposterous beasts, from giant scorpions and mad crocodiles to a ferocious creature called a Whippoorwill, whatever it was.
Ephidel did not bother to finish reading it and quietly rose to return it to its shelf and took a new book from the opposite side of the room. He read through a bit and discovered that this too was a work of fiction and thus of no interest to him. He looked at several others over the course of the next few hours, on this floor and many others, but to his irritation, none were historical. They must have been there somewhere, but the morph did not know where and the library was far too large for him to continue picking books at random.
Still, dragonkind's seeming fascination with fiction was some new knowledge, at least, and because it was really the only useful thing he had to work with at the moment, he stopped to think about what it signified about their species. It made sense, he supposed. In the three hundred years that he had watched pass by at Nergal's feet, it seemed that one of the prime forces that pushed mankind forward was the need to more efficiently kill each other. Bern, Ostia, Ilia, and so many others, all their resources were poured into the forge–or the Royal Mage Academy, in the case of Etruria–and while many less militaristic advances were made, they were mere afterthoughts, accidents made while working towards a far more violent goal.
Dragons, on the other hand, had no need for such research; very few things were more efficient killing machines than their talons and breath. Not only that, but because time passed so slowly for them, they could hardly afford to engage in warfare as often as humans did–the would have been extinct long ago if that were the case. Their intellectual movements clearly followed a path entirely different from humanity's, and it seemed that they focused far more on cultural matters. At least that fit with what information he did have; it explained the countless books, the artwork that littered the halls, and Morcere's wish for him to learn all of this nonsense.
This set him thinking of how else the importance of individual lives would affect them. It would certainly play an enormous role in the battles to come, assuming that there would be any, for it seemed that diplomacy would be a feasible option with all but the most stubborn of opponents. But if battles did occur, the suicidal strategies of the Black Fang would crush morale and give opposing forces potential for highly effective propaganda. A tactician for dragonkind would need to be more like that human Mark who those Lycians had employed, refusing to let even a single soldier fall.
But that was not how Ephidel was made to think. Lives were trivial things, expendable, because that was how his master had made him, and while he was confident that he could strategize properly if the need arose, it was difficult to do so without something more concrete to work with. Of course it had already dawned on him that the dragons would not have a tactician of their own, peaceful as they were, and was already quite expecting the task to fall on him.
And with all these thoughts passing through his head, Ephidel also became aware that the library was now virtually empty. It was difficult to be sure–windows seemed to be an alien idea to the earth dragon clan–but he supposed that it was now fairly late at night.
He decided to return to his room where he found a tray of cold meats and a note that apologized for the poor fare and said that they would eat a proper meal the following morning with the King. He indifferently ate the food and as he did so, his mind wandered about the events of the past three weeks. If he were a human, he might have called them unbelievable, though he disdained the term because only an idiot would not believe something that had clearly occurred before their very eyes.
Remarkable might be a better term. Remarkable how much he had learned from Morcere. Remarkable how he even now acted to give humans their long overdue retribution.
Remarkable how stupid he had been five nights ago.
Complete idiocy. He had let his emotions gain control over him, just as humans so often did. Emotions were supposed to be no more than tools for leading misguided humans to their well-deserved doom, but they were so strong then. Strong enough for him to fear them. When would they regain their deadly grip on him, crushing reason to no end? One could not tell until it was too late, it seemed, and what could he really do then?
Ephidel stopped. Here they were again. He stopped for a moment to clear his mind of such thoughts, and while he managed to convince himself that he had successfully removed them, his emotions were reluctant to leave him. Within minutes, he was unwittingly thinking about their argument again.
He was struck yet again by how illogically he had acted; he could think of countless reasons as to why his actions were perhaps the worst possible solutions to their problem. Just because all the other dragons suffered as much as Lasentis did made her pain no less. She was still quite young for a dragon. Morcere had almost explicitly told him that she was emotionally weak when they had first met. The list continued.
"Enough!" said Ephidel aloud. He was above failure. Temporary shortcomings may exist, but outright failure was impossible. This had to be dealt with now. His resolve gave him strength–enough to know that he was still being driven by emotion–but he was beyond caring now. He strode out the room and across the hall towards the door of his hated ally.
Just as he knocked on the door, it occurred to him that this was almost the exact same scenario that started all this trouble in the first place, but it was too late to change it now. Then again, perhaps she was asleep and would not answer, but no, the door creaked open and she looked at him with those careworn eyes that she had worn for the past five days.
"What do you want?" she asked quietly.
"I think we need to talk about our argument," said the morph.
Lasentis looked at him for a moment before giving a sigh. "You might as well come in," she said. It was pathetic really, how broken she had become.
Ephidel walked into her room as Lasentis slumped into a chair. She was still exhausted, even after spending most of the day doing nothing more strenuous than reading. Then again, it seemed as though lack of sleep played a greater role in it than physical exertion.
Now that he was there, however, Ephidel had no idea how to begin; he was made to cause conflicts, not resolve them. Why had he not planned this out beforehand? Fortunately, after a long period of silence, Lasentis began to speak.
"I've been thinking about what you said," she began, "and I know you're right. I was being irrational, and Morcere wouldn't want that."
What? Was this really going to be so simple?
"Everything you said was right," she continued. "I know my life's not been great, but it's the same for everyone else here, including you. We need to be working together so we can make the humans pay for all they've done, and I know it probably doesn't mean anything coming from me, but I'll do what I can to make sure you can get Nergal, too."
Everything was proceeding more smoothly than Ephidel had ever imagined, until his master's name passed through her lips. He felt a gurgling malevolent power churning inside of himself, the very same feeling the preceded one of his fits, but this time he felt no pain, for he had spoken no ill of Nergal. But Lasentis had, and before the morph could form a single thought, he watched as his right hand flew out and slapped her across the face with all the force it could muster.
The manakete was stunned by the unexpected blow, tears coming to her eyes, though not out of pain it seemed. She ran out of the room before Ephidel could speak a word of explanation.
The morph grit his teeth in frustration. This was the night of their argument all over again, only now she would begin to question his motives and keep an even greater distance from him.
And now he knew why. He remembered the story of Kishuna, the first of the feeling morphs that his master had made, and how those two had grown to hate one another. The resulting attacks drove the morph into madness, rendering him mute for fear of inadvertently speaking ill of his master, but that was not enough for Nergal. Pain, fear, and sorrow did not return to him the quintessence that he had wasted.
But Nergal was cunning, if nothing else. It seemed that he had since learned to not only make them suffer pain, but to also force them to submit to his will regardless of whether they still wished to serve him.
That had not happened before, even to Ephidel. His master's grip was growing ever tighter, threatening to suffocate with its omnipresent threat to him and what little he held dear, and it showed no signs of slackening. The morph would not submit so easily; he would resist to the end and work to even overcome it if he could, but it seemed unlikely at the moment–the very thought of defying his master's will sent him sprawling onto the floor, knowing nothing but pain.
–––Author's Notes–––
I feel so slow; it has been ten days since the last chapter. At least this one is somewhat longer and [in my opinion] fairly interesting, so hopefully it was worth the wait.
This is a minor point that I doubt anyone would notice if I did not mention it, but I feel obligated to do so regardless. I have recently analyzed all available images of ice dragons, both transformed and untransformed, and have come to the conclusion that they have no wings, though I cannot begin to comprehend why. And yet because I have noted in earlier chapters how strange Ephidel is without wings, and actually included a mention of an ice dragon in flight, I am going to pretend that they have them regardless. Due to the somewhat feathery crests on their heads, I have decided to make their wings feathery like a divine dragon's, though rather than being white, the color is a light cyan not unlike Ninian's hair. Of course, if there is an official image contradicting this conjecture, I would be quite grateful if you would inform me of it.
There is in fact virtually no information on the earth dragons, and thus much extrapolation was necessary. They have been the traditional enemies of the divine dragons, and all two of them ever shown [though one could argue that Loputous was never shown, but that is beside the point] both had some sort of magical quality about them. I thought it strange for the entire Earth Dragon Clan to wield magic, however, so I limited it only to the royal family. Videir's mention of becoming unkillable is reference to how Medeus says "So long as the darkness in your hearts continues to sustain me...I cannot be...destroyed" or something to a similar effect every time he dies. Everything else regarding the earth dragons should be included in either chapter eleven or twelve [or thirteen or fourteen or somewhere else; I have not decided yet].
The reason that I gave Ephidel such a large number of Goddess Icons is because morphs are simply terrible units because they all have at least a 10-15% chance of receiving a critical blow. And despite how many people hate Ephidel, I cannot have my main character roll over and die that easily, and this was the most logical means that I could think of to circumvent it without thoroughly disregarding such amusing gameplay elements.
The knight mentioned in the book that Ephidel first read was in fact Kieran. Though I only discovered this recently, a whippoorwill is in fact a real creature; a nocturnal bird that lives purely on a diet of insects. Kurimia is the literal transcription of Crimea from Japanese.
The origin of Videir's name is overly complex. Medeus can be [very poorly] transcribed as με δες, which in Greek means "to see". The Latin word of the same meaning is videre, and thus Videir. It also received a bias point from this Star Wars fan for sounding vaguely similar to Vader.