An Age of Mysterious Memories

I stare through my goggles at Miraina’s crumpled form. Rolling onto her back, she draws forth the chalice, traces its rim while whispering, and my heart catches as she’s closed in on from all sides. I can’t see if she was able to consume the drink. However, when an adult blue dragon springs forth from the dogpile of blacksmiths and bugs, I breathe a sigh of relief.

Still, I spy Charles and Deli in that pile of blacksmiths. I don’t want to see them hurt. This is bad. There are so many of the gorram bugs, but my area effect abilities would hurt my–wait, The Platinum’s robe–allies. Summoning it forth from my QCR, I’m garbed in The Platinum’s ensorcelled robe. Its runostructure has metamagical properties. If I empower them, spending my own SP, I can enhance my spells. But what ways?

Hm. Emergency spell, expanded spell, shaped spell. Emergency shaped expanded spell. Sure thing Reggie, let’s just break all the rules yet again. Hah. Wait. Since the frost cone spell itself is free for three daily uses, but its cost is normally sixty six, or sixty with elemental tricks, and I’ll be attempting to infuse ten SP worth of metamagic into it… do I get that metamagical effect for free because of the sash Nala just gave me?

Blinking several times in shock, I cast my senses into the runic weave between the items, and the auras they contain, and sure enough, that’s how it works. The sash filters and cycles ambient mana into runic empowerment, circumventing SP costs for metamagicked spells. It’s intended for sorcerers who are more like Tiktik, their SP pools that are spell slots wouldn’t be affected, but their metamagical SP pool would be, something they’ve only got a couple dozen of in a good day. No one expects the absensorcerer I guess.

Magic will handle my intent as a massive glacial wave springs forth in a cone, my intent of course being to not hit any of my allies, somehow leaving holes only where my allies are, even if an enemy is right on the other side of them. Just like… The Apex of Divinity. Teuila eating the platinum scale shard. The breath weapon bestowed on her will never harm allies. He really cared. He invented this metamagic. It was virtually a part of him. Sniffling, I scrunch my face, and my heart aches as I sense Kinzul’s discomfort, her longing, her grief, her loss, being reminded of how special The Platinum was.

As much as I cherish this gift, this symbol of faith, and stepping into the role of the Hero of dragonkind, the role of The Platinum himself, I’d normally avoid bringing it near combat. But, scalesilk is as tough as dragon scales, so it’s about as good as mithril armor. A bit less durable than mithril when rendered into silk this smooth and soft, but still excellent craftsmanship, and being an enchanted item, it’s got a base of a huge durability boost simply from the aura permeating it with ambient mana.

I suppose I don’t need to be quite as careful with the Ravenfeather Coat, for the same reason. The thing is half-crafted with ambient mana itself. Summoning it from my QCR, the stylish long black jacket with the feathered rough that Teuila attached to it sits snugly over The Platinum’s ensorcelled robe. Hm, why don’t we go ahead and see what Valkyrie armor does atop this all? Huh, spiffy. It sits a bit more snugly than I’m used to, but these delightfully soft enchanted silk and leather clothes work as nicely as the under-armor padding that I’d normally wear. I guess that frees up a couple of slots in my QCR, though I’m still a bit hesitant heading into combat wearing the robes at all. I don’t want to get this gift ruined or damaged even the slightest bit.

As we continue our hurried descent, the sounds of battle reach my ears, my long, pointy, blue ears that I’m still not used to having. Worse, the sounds that reach me? Almost every single one of them is a dull, and growing louder, impact against dragon’s scales. The only dragon currently down there is Miraina’s temporary adult blue dragon form from the shapechanging potion. She’s getting hammered on. Pawn, no. Please hang in there sweetie. Help is on the way.

Miraina can’t back off even if she wanted to flee. She’s blocking the tunnel from the forgeworks to Mount Verdimenn. We’d brought the wounded, and most of the infirmary itself, down to our Verdimenn project space. I can see Nala trundling along worriedly, heading this way as well, passing scrying sensors a few floors back, likely either worried about her new friend Littlebit, or perhaps some projects she’s got in the works.

Wow, Prinrin is quick, and Farzhis is coming along right behind her stepmother. I guess it makes sense that Prinny might rouse with my brain thinking of Pawn being in danger. They’re a few floors back, but passing scrying sensors one after another after another at a blistering pace. It seems everyone is rousing, and not far behind them as well.

The air is thick with the scent of molten metal and the cacophony of the battle. Heat from the still-lit forges reaches my thermal senses, mingling with the sharp tang of fear and sweat. The forges' glows cast dancing shadows, transforming the cavern into a stage of chaos. The mite-hulk adjacents, pearlescent crustacean creatures that skitter across the stone floor, are arriving in an unending tide. Their carapaces shimmering unnaturally. Amidst this mess stands Miraina, in her temporary form, an adult blue dragon. Her eyes are closed, as if she were the calm in a storm, desperately avoiding harming the confused innocents.

As much as I wish I could make sense of it, or heads or tails of things, the scene unfolding is absolute chaos. The pearlescent mite-hulks carapaces shimmering in the forge-fires’ lights are wreaking havoc on our blacksmiths, and poor Miraina. I mean that literally, the carapaces’ shimmering effects are sowing confusion as if by some magical aura.

Oh. Oh hey. I’ve got just the thing for that. Oof!

I perhaps should have paid attention to my wife. Kinzul has me pinned to the wall, her strong grip crushing my throat. I nearly black out instantly from the sheer force of the impact knocking the wind out of me, and the surprise at not being able to draw more air until my neckchain’s enchantment kicks in. Gurgling through a crushed windpipe, I beg my wife to close her eyes, but she isn’t listening to my mental monologue while confused. She’s lashing out blindly now, keeping me pinned, squeezing harder and harder, as her other hand thrashes and swipes at anything approaching.

While Kinzul is crushing my throat, I feel a sense of dread wash over me. This is how I died. All she has to do is twist, and snap, there goes Reggie Shellcracker again, this time, with no reincarnation buff lingering around on them. Focus Reggie, breathe air, breathe. The neckchain has you covered. Aim vaguely in the direction of the Mite hulks, the forges, even Miraina, everything. Channel your willpower into shaping the spell around your allies.

I focus on drawing forth one of the daily uses of the cold blasting spell, but imagine it lingering, waiting for me to enhance it. The air around me chills as I channel the frosty Fel, weaving shaped, emergency, and extended metamagics into my spell. My breath mists in front of me, and my thermal senses are precognizant of the temperature drop about to occur.

A cone of gelid mist erupts from my fingertips, expanding and twisting around allies with surgical precision. It sweeps through the forgeworks like a glacial wave, the temperature plummeting, steam rising where the frost meets the heated air. Metal creaks as it contracts in the cold, and the skittering enemies slow, encased in rime. The spell's passage leaves a trail of delicate frost patterns across every surface that quickly grows into a jungle of ice-sculptures. Colors, rainbows refract through portions of the glaciated area from the fiery glow of the forges.

The sudden shift in volume and aural activity is profound, going from cacophony to quiet instantly. Of course, sounds begin returning almost just as instantly, the crackling of freezing carapaces and the soft thuds of creatures succumbing to the cold embrace. Phew, that buys us a few seconds. Not a lot of them, but a few at least.

These things are tunnelers, so a big block of ice isn’t going to keep the new ones arriving at bay for long. Thankfully, my spell had another effect, well, several. It proc’ed runic clips from my bangle, one of which lets me cleanse harmful effects from a nearby ally, or, well, creature that I can see that’s been affected. Which I of course used on Kinzul in order to cleanse her mind of the confusion aura.

Speaking of nearby, Prinrin, Farzhis, if you’re going to get any closer, stay in your human forms and keep your eyes closed, please. Coughing, I drop to the floor as Kinzul releases my crushed larynx from her grasp. The shatter and crunch of ice being bored through reaches my ears, and I don’t know how long it’ll take for the blacksmiths to be free of their confusion, so I’ve got to act swiftly before a new wave of mite-hulks shows up.

Thankfully Kinzul shouts loudly enough to announce that everyone must close their eyes as soon as their minds are their own. Ow, my head. Well, having the wind knocked out of me and proximity to a shout as loud as Kinzul’s did my lingering migraine no favors. Rattling my skull, I attempt to leap into the fray, only to bump into Lucky as he enlarges, aside Farzhis, Veril, and Prinrin.

Friggin' heck, I hate fighting in enclosed spaces like this, but we can only afford to have two people in full dragon shape on the ground at a time, with the size of the area being as it is. Thankfully, since Veril and Lucky just arrived as well, the two are eager to help in a fight. Veril takes a good hard look at Miraina and is visibly confused. I can tell he recognizes her, but is struggling to understand how it is that she looks so different now. I don’t recall if I filled anyone else in on the chalice’s effect.

Speaking of the effect, the dragon form, the body crafted for Miraina by the chalice, is still fairly impressive, considering Pawn is technically a runt. She isn't too much bigger than Kinzul's human form's wingspan, maybe just over twenty five feet. She's the same color of blue as me, but she's got a black stripe down her spine, reminiscent of her tendrils or tufts or horns in her Draconiac form. She's also got a longer tail than most other dragons I've seen, proportionately. It's a long, whip-like appendage twisting to and fro. Farzhis’s eyes light up spying Miraina, and I raise a brow, but she blushes and avoids my gaze.

A voice from my goggles calls out, "Siege above and below Schism. Queens have it handled for now, but they could probably use some backup on one side or the other, so they can take turns resting as usual."

Oh for crap’s sakes. Calling into my telepathic bond, I request, “Farzhis, Veril, can you two get Illy and Indy and head to one of the entrances to work on the siege with our Queens? Lucky, can you pick out a couple friends you’re willing to take with you, get Lil, and attack Mydraig Hareslayer’s fortress, routing his domain?”

Grinding my palms into my eyesockets to fight back my migraine, stars explode behind my eyelids, and waves of colors flash in undulating patterns until I let off the pressure. Drawing a quick breath, and sighing, I add, “After that, Crepuul and Inishish’s domains. I wanted the Dormir to go with you, but we’ve got the siege to deal with, so maybe Shiz, Zelshiz, Pidge, Trixxie, Yui, and Yuri if he’s feeling better. Zelshiz might bring along a small squad of Spellknights. Only those you trust. I love you boy, kick some butt.”

Lucky knocks me over with his enormous tongue, lapping at me while I’m trying to catch my balance. He whuffs his assent, and I chuckle and pat him lovingly as he races past, digging through ice to head towards Mount Verdimenn to pick up Shiz, Zelshiz, and the others. I glance towards Kinzul, and she offers me her regal head-tilt of confirmation, that she’s fine with my delegation of duties. I was hoping to not give quite so much leeway to people we’ve only known for a day or two, but this is a war after all. In a war, if you’re not deploying your assets, well, let’s just say you’d better have a darn good reason, and right now, my paranoia over trust isn’t a good enough one.

Bursting through ice herself, as she assumes her dragon form, Kinzul begins swiftly snagging innocent blacksmiths who’d been trapped in pockets of air between the glacial constructs. The crashing, shattering sounds set my heart on edge slightly, but they’re not all that similar to derezzing, nor is there a time dilation occurring. I nod towards my wife, grateful for her help in getting the innocents to safety. Inhaling slowly, smoothly, my nostrils fill with the dry, cold air that will soon be filled with moisture as the forges melt and evaporate my icy spell.

Closing my eyes once more, I guide Prinrin to me with a telekinetic grip, and tie a blindfold about her face. Grimacing, I offer up, “Sorry Prinny, I really don’t want you eviscerating me in confusion. I’ll guide you to Miraina, then get you to guide her out of the fray. Sound good?”

My wonderful, deviant, little old lass comments, “Of course Schism dearie. I knew I could count on you to keep my precious Pawn safe. But a mother still wants to be there when her sweet daughter is in danger, you understand of course Schism sweetie.”

Nodding, I flash Prinrin a telepathic smile before we begin hacking and slashing our way through ice towards Pawn. A rumble, a vibration that likely only I can sense passes beneath us in waves, originating at a spot between Solace and Verdimenn. I do not like the sounds of that. Well, the feeling of that. Sure enough, like some sort of foreshock, the rumble grows until the entire forgeworks area is shaking, my ice quickly crumbling under the motion. Friggin’ heck. There’s no telling what sort of damage a quake could do if it knocks some magical artifacts over into each other in our vaults. I should have packed things up better. Crap.

Dashing through the now crumbling stalagmites of ice, I virtually toss Prinrin at Pawn so that I can begin skating on the frosty floor towards the incoming mite-hulks. I wear a rueful grimace in apology towards my deviant little old lass, but she’s compassionate and understanding, as she scrabbles up her daughter’s neck to help cover her daughter’s eyes. I guide the pair telepathically which directions to move to escape towards Mount Verdimenn without having to open their eyes. While doing that, I’m setting myself up for an onslaught.

I can sense Kinzul rapidly returning and leaving with more of the innocents that she’s dragging away. Unfortunately, this means that what was a too-cramped fighting space, is now just me facing down a horde of insectoid crustacean mighty mite hulk thingies. Reggie? Yeah? You really need to get better at naming stuff. Oh hush. It’s not like I can call them shimmerhulks or albino umber hulks. I’d get blasted by a copyright ninja or something from Fakeworld knowing my luck.

Are you really worried that some ninja lawyer from a planet that doesn’t exist, is going to show up and harass you for using a name? I don’t know, maybe. Wait, shut up. I’m busy. Yeesh. You’re losin’ it Reggie. Yeah yeah whatever. Busy.

Oh man, the way these hips and legs and feet work, compared to what I’m used to as a Changeling-Fae, is kinda awesome. It’s so easy to just skate around, and even limbo with my tail supporting me as I slide between foes’ legs and such. It’d probably be unsportsmanlike to be thrusting FBF style SIPS where I am during my slides, if this were anything other than a life-or-death scenario. Plus, I mean, they have exoskeletons, and I’m trying to slay them anyway. Doesn’t really matter where my attacks connect.

Between my danger wraps, and my thermal senses, and if I need it, retrocognition, I’m able to fight fairly effectively without my sense of sight, which is a huge boon right now. It sorta feels like I’ve been training for moments like these my whole life. At least as far back as the Night of High Water. The rushing of that forewave, the crashing of the Shellcrackers into the roof of their shell home. The sounds wash over me as a distant memory that lingers, never fading entirely. Someday. Someday I’ll make it back to you all. We’ll journey until we find everyone’s eggs, and get everyone back. If… if that’s possible.

Blinking back tears and sniffling, I’m quite ready to take out my grief and frustrations on the encroaching insectoid herd. I don’t know how much power I’m going to need today for other activities, or how large this horde is, so I’m trying to play it a bit sparingly with my resources. Am I doing alright? Eh, I guess, maybe. Being able to launch frosty rays that are like sixteen times the size they used to be, for free, compared to needing to use my own SP for them is pretty darn nice. I hate to admit it, but I’m kind of enjoying this connection to the frosty Fel. It feels just that tiny bit more like being home on Can’Z’aas to have my thermal powers enhanced again.

Blast blast SIP, blast blast SIP, sliding around a wintery wonderland, backflipping and cartwheeling through flailing limbs, mandibles and pincers being swung my way feels almost natural. Almost. I’m still not used to this body, or things like my horns that occasionally scrape the floor while I’m flipping about. Heh, oy vey. Get it together Reggie pal. Could be a hell of a long day. I wonder if Te’s doing any better than when we returned from Stormspire. She and Lil both could use a hell of a lot of sleep, but I figure Lil plus Lucky should be able to keep the newbies in line and keep them from backstabbing each other. Or rather, I figure Lil and Lucky have each other’s backs, even if Lil was pretty heinously injured, and then took a fairly big blow to the sternum last night.

Gnawing my lower lip, and gritting my teeth, I’m worried about sending any of my beloved inner circle out to battle any more of Terrorzin’s forces. Or to send them to topple any more of his fortresses. I just, I just need to trust them. They can do this. I’m not sending them anywhere near as deeply as we went the other day, in fact, I’m sending them further away from Terrorzin’s stronger forces. Plus, Shiz seems pretty reliable, and he and Zelshiz seem to be in love, so, well, yeah, it should be okay. Right? Reggie stop overthinking it. You’ve made allies, you have friends, and it’s a war. Bad stuff is going to happen, and you can’t let second guessing yourself cause you to make sloppy mistakes, like that hit you just took right now.

Ooof. Luckily I’m digital-critterkin adjacent, and haven’t had any food yet today, or I’d have lost my lunch from that gut suckerpunch. Blurgh. Koff. Koff. Yeah. You’re right. I need to pay attention to my situation around me, rather than overthinking assignments. If Lu and Te get up, I’ll ask their opinions. If Te thinks Lil and Lucky need backup, she’ll speed away and catch up to them.

Speaking of assignments, I hear Shiz boasting to someone as he rushes past, on the tail of Lucky, headed back up towards Solace proper, "Defeated all Evil Claws in a single attack," Shiz glances towards Pidge, looses a half rueful chuckle and scratches the back of his head before continuing, "erm, present company notwithstanding. And drove off Damnations like they were whelps.”

Donning my own rueful smile and loosing a half chuckle, I shake my head at Shiz’s oversimplification and far-too-high of praise for me. Still, I wave across our telepathic wavelengths as he follows Lucky’s baying guidance to leave this fight to me, without getting hit by the confusion aura. Everyone by now knows to keep their eyes closed near the forgeworks at least. Whoops, speaking of, hi Nala.

It took her a while to catch up, but I did not expect Nala’s entrance to be so dramatic. Holy crap. Remember those little automatons that she was curious about giving little force ballistae to? She’s got a pair of them, like wrist-mounted blasters, and she’s going ham over there with her eyes closed, letting them aim for her.

I’m glad her little constructs are apparently immune to the confusion effect, because I seriously would not want to be dodging or taking the number of blasts she’s letting loose. Moreover, it seems she’s able to have one or more of the clockwork clankers of hers filter ambient mana into those sort of bolstering films or skins that absorb a bit of impact. She’s setting and refreshing one on both me and her repeatedly.

Wow. Yeah. Nala’s definitely maximum tier in potential in that one system I’m thinking of. Level twenty for sure. Sheesh. As an armored Draconiac rushes my way, I’m uncertain if I should dodge or not as she takes a swing at me. Thankfully, Yui only slaps my shoulder a bit roughly.

She calls out, “Make sure my idiot brother stays in bed for me, will ya Shellcracker? Off to battle on your orders Schism, according to your dog apparently. Uh, son.”

Raising an eyebrow, with a hint of a malicious smirk, I turn my head towards Yui. I’m glad she corrected herself. Lucky might be part hound, but he’s all Shellcracker. Wait. I just realized a flaw in my request of Lucky. How the hell did he convince this cavalcade of people to rush after him to join him in battle? Then again, maybe some of the people over in Verdimenn overheard my brain while I was passing along the request.

Bemused, I quip, “Never thought I’d be assigning Terrorzin’s elite Spellknights to go raid his fortresses, while fighting alongside our grumpy librarian pushing back a horde of subterranean hulks with our eyes closed. What about you Nala, Curator?”

With a soft cluck that passes for laughter, Nala agrees, “I’m of a similar mind, friend Reggie. Of course, until recently, I was quite amiable with simply whiling away all my days in our Lady’s library. I still would be, if it came down to it, but I must admit, this is perhaps at least a bit exhilarating.”

Snorting a half laugh, I nod to Nala as we fight back to back, blasting and rotating in a circle to cover each other, Nala’s automatons guiding her, my dangers wraps guiding me. I’m half worried another shoe is about to drop, because it’s, well, I know I shouldn’t say it, so I won’t say it aloud, but this is going too well for me to be entirely comfortable.

Oddly, the other shoe? It’s our ‘Neath trio. Roaring as they tear free from the depths beneath Solace, Revinth the Dark, Gresog the Quick, and Shaylon, Aegis, come barreling out the nearest crevice that marks a breach to the ‘Neath. Even though my eyes are closed? I blink several times, stunned, at how swiftly and efficiently Revinth and Gresog wrap up the invasion, or whatever one might call this attack. I definitely understand their titling at this point. I’d had my suspicions, but wow.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I realize I spoke–well, thought–too soon, as Shaylon surmises in their pleasant hiss, “Schism, we’ve got something I think you should see, we’ve wrapped it up–”

Interrupting, I hazard, “Let me guess, because when one or more of you looked at it, it stole time, caused you to space out, seemingly in a daze to the others, not aware that time had passed.”

Revinth butts in to ask, “Well, yes. How the hell could you know that?”

Sighing, I draw back my lips and clench my eyes tightly as tears form. I was right. Responding, I answer, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is no one else can know about it, and the book has to go straight to Luni. Please. Please promise me that you will let absolutely no one else know about it. A precious life is on the line.”