Thank God, I thought to myself as surprised reactions filtered through my mindlink. This isn’t normal after all.
Then again, the last Rite featured an underground forest of light-starved super-trees, so maybe Avalon had its own ideas on the best way to set a precedent.
“We know,” the child’s voice said to my right. “It’s a terrible thing that happened to us.”
I turned to gaze at the same blue skinned, white haired little boy that had disappeared into thin air after speaking to us.
“What exactly happened to you?” I asked. “Other than becoming the prey of a great beast?”
“That wasn’t it,” the little Atlantean said as he shook his head. “The great beasts always found our people. We were vast, as they were. Powerful, as they were. Deep calls to deep. And it was well. We traded knowledge with them, and they thanked us. They were hungry, but we had food, and fed them easily. It used to be enough.” The little boy looked down sadly. “Then one day, new beasts came, beasts that needed neither knowledge nor food. They began to break what we made, and we moved our land into the shelter of the mighty waves. We were not as safe as we believed. And when we rebuilt what we could here, we learned that we had been pursued even still. ” He looked back up at me. “It was the flood that wrecked our homes.”
Then the little one became water, and died again.
I let the silence linger for a few more moments before speaking.
“Did his words make more sense to anyone else?” I asked.
There was a predictable shaking of heads.
“He spoke in poetry,” Breyn said softly. “It was his people’s way. They thought knowledge would be better kept if the learner worked to gain it. Their schools were the most sought out by those who had the means to travel between Pathways. But it was said that their riddles were part of the reason they died out.”
I sighed.
“Well, right now we have no choice but to dig around. Let’s find a way to get down and investigate.”
The cliff was only sheer for about fifteen feet. After that, the wall sloped more gradually downward. If we had wanted, we could have probably made the initial drop and then rolled or skidded downward for a bit. Our respective vital guards were sufficient to handle the damage, especially if we made it back to our feet before we reached the very bottom.
But given the number of mages in our group, that idea was foolish and unnecessary. Eadric and I knew enough Earth magic between the two of us to level out a spot safe enough to land. As for Air magic, Breena and I were already at the Practitioner level and Weylin wasn’t far behind. We used a spell to control our downward trajectory, where we were able to land on a relatively safe part of the slope below. Once we had conquered the initial decline, we alternated between adjusting the terrain ourselves, and using the climbing equipment I had paranoidly packed beforehand to make sure no one hurt themselves in a stupid accident that left us vulnerable for the next ambush.
When we finally reached the bank where the slope met the magic tide, we had to figure out what the hell to do next.
Explore the rubble, picking through the debris we found? Search in groups, ruined house to ruined house? Dive around and see how deep the water went? Any one of those was just a shot in the dark.
Then I realized with annoyance that, once again, I was being an idiot for not remembering that I was no longer limited to physical activity, and resorted to Water magic.
The giant beast was still outside the walls of whatever structure this was. I stirred the water experimentally with a new spell Breena had taught me, gaining the idea of its composition.
As I had already guessed, it was magical. The enchantment it contained was meant to devour anything trapped within it, to tear it apart over time. It would be dangerous to any swimmer or vessel traveling through it, but to anyone used to breathing water, or to buildings suddenly flooded by it, it would be lethal.
It was the flood that wrecked our homes, the boy had told us. I should have put two and two together. The water below us had never been introduced naturally. And it had clearly wrecked all the homes it now surrounded. Still, I wondered if there was another meaning to his words.
I wish there wasn’t, Teeth said.
I take it you somehow know more about this, too? I asked with sarcastic annoyance. Or you’ve just been hiding information from me?
One, he snapped. Stop trying to bite my head off every time I say something. It’s annoying, and you need me just as much as I need you. Start acting like it. Two, you have a freaking bomb inside your skull. I have no idea what will finally set it off, so I’m trying not to trigger it by messing with your brain too much in any fashion. Great job on allowing someone to put that there, by the way. Really makes a fashion statement next to that power-triggered kill-switch in your Earthborn genes. And third, I’m still growing and learning too, so excuse me for not being born with any more answers than you had when you were a couple weeks old. I’m the Freaking New Guy, remember? I just got here!
Yeah, and you didn’t exactly get permission before you finished moving your stuff in, I snapped back, then calmed myself. But you’re right. I’m sorry. It’s hard to trust you sometimes. But please explain what you know and how you learned it.
Fair enough, Teeth grumbled, sounding just as apologetic, and just as unhappy about it. And… thanks. I get that this isn’t easy for you either, and that you don’t get along with one of my dads. Anyway, after eating four of those Scalelings, and seeing this, I can piece together what we’re dealing with. What kind of dragon.
Okay, I answered him. I appreciate that. Is it a full dragon, or just a relative, like the wyvern we fought before?
That’s a complicated question, and you and I still need to discuss the matter in length, Teeth admitted. But this creature has enough power to be considered a full dragon and more. He hesitated for a moment, as if he were drawing a breath. We’re facing what was once known as a Tidefather. A Sea Linnorm that has reached the Wyrm stage of its life.
That sounds bad, I replied, but I still don’t have a good frame of reference for what you’re talking about. I’m guessing this thing is several orders of magnitude mightier than the wyvern we slew?
Ha. No comparison. Difference between yourself and a sick rabbit. This thing could probably eat us in one bite right now. Three if I could activate our dragon form.
Okay… I said, thinking. So how would this thing match up against Vinclum or Aegrim?
Again, yourself versus some weak, sick animal. A Cosmic Wyrm is several stages above the initial Wyrm stage in a dragon’s advancement. Most sections of the Expanse never see one, and there hasn’t been a new sighting since the battle between Vinclum and Aegrim. I think, Teeth amended cautiously. At least according to our dads.
Great, I said. So we’re fighting something on the same power level as Cavus or a greater Dark Icon. I have no idea how we’ll make that work.
I have no idea how strong Cavus is, Teeth replied, but if he only gets as strong as those freaky animal forms we fought, then the Tidefather will be much stronger. This thing could have devoured three Raw-Maws at once. But they do have weaknesses.
“Psst,” Petalbell whispered to Breyn, either forgetting she now had access to the mindlink or just not bothering with it. “What is he doing?”
“What do you mean?” Breyn whispered back, possibly on purpose as well.
“I mean, he’s staring at the water without saying anything. Is he trying to remember how to swim?”
“No,” Val whispered back. “That’s not it. He’s talking to his special friend, right Breena?”
“Yeah,” Breena said in a low, confidential voice. “He talks to his dragon now that he can transform. But I don’t think he likes his dragon. They fight a lot.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate for a young man,” Eadric said out loud. “I mean, that’s unfortunate for a young man,” he repeated, in something that almost counted as a whisper.
“Why?” Breena turned to
ask in an oblivious tone. “I don’t think they fight physically. As far as I know, Wes has never laid a hand on the dragon. They just disagree on a lot of things.”
“That is a bit more common,” Weylin confided, just loud enough for me to hear him.
“Really?” Breena asked curiously. “I’ve never even seen another guy’s dragon. Are they all the same? Wes’ gets all huge and angry when he finally comes out. But you guys would already know, right?”
“Um. No,” Val said firmly and loudly. “And can we stop talking about my brother’s dragon? This is getting unclear and super weird.”
“Thank you!” Breena said in an exasperated tone. “It feels like they beat on the subject all the time, but Merada just can’t stop talking about it! She’s obsessed with the thing, even though she’s already seen it at least twice!”
“Breena!” Val shrieked in a horrified tone.
“Alright, that’s enough,” I said, turning around. “Breena, you’re giving my sister and the new people the wrong picture about what it is I actually do around here. In case it isn’t painfully clear by now, I’ve formed a bond with a dragon from my world, and now part of my head has a dragon’s personality inside of it. Sometimes he knows things I don’t, and it lets him figure out things I can’t.”
“Like what?” Breyn asked curiously.
“Like the fact that the monster being trapped here, which we just escaped, is a Tidefather.”
Three jaws snapped open.
“Are you sure?” Virtus said quietly
Yes, Teeth answered in my mind. I nodded for him.
“Bloody broken oaths,” Virtus spat.
That may have been the first time I had ever heard the skeleton swear.
“Stell… heard about those,” Breena said softly. “They’re rare. And hungry. And hateful.”
“And they can ravage entire countries,” Breyn spoke up. “Continents, even. All on their own.”
“Yeah, he said all that,” I answered with a nod. “I was learning their strengths and weaknesses as well.”
To my relief, Teeth chose to directly dump the info into my brain.
Tidefathers were massive, serpentine dragons over a hundred feet long that superficially resembled a cross between the European Sea Serpent and Chinese Flood Dragon. They wielded incredible power over running water, but for reasons no one knew, hated the cold with a passion. They usually had no limbs to speak of, save for an almost vestigial pair of claws, but they could breathe several types of harmful liquid as an attack: a hot cloud of boiling steam, a deluge of poisonous liquid, or—what they were most known for—something called the floodbreath. The floodbreath was a rush of enchanted water that battered apart everything in its way, and did not dissipate until either the Tidefather recalled it, or the terrain subjected to it had been completely devastated.
As far as Teeth could tell, the Tidefather had attacked this place and been repelled by Atlantean magic and the intense cold radiating from the blue stone in this region, but had fired his floodbreath at some point when the entrance above had been left open.
That made me immediately worry that he was going to do so again, especially considering all those psuedo-children of his that I had eaten. I couldn’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t want to fire a shot at me, specifically because that breath was clearly powerful enough to travel down into the room where we were currently standing.
Then again, it should have fired back when we were on the lake’s surface. So maybe it couldn’t use that attack anymore.
At any rate, the only thing for us to do was to move forward. My friends all had the same worry after I shared Teeth’s knowledge through the mindlink, but they couldn’t think of a better idea either.
We decided to try and travel through the water, since it appeared considerably calmer on the surface and could probably be crossed with some kind of boat or raft. We waited for a large enough piece of petrified, million year old driftwood to float by, then grabbed it with a grappling hook and some rope, pulled it to the shore next to us, and proceeded to carve and shape it with knife, pick, and spell. It took over an hour of work, and the final product wasn’t pretty at all, but in the end we had a serviceable, railed raft that could fit the entire group. I also dug out some rope and poles out of Breaker’s storage, in case we wanted to fish up any debris as we floated by.
A combination of script, shaping, and Water magic had also gone into the construction of the craft, and it was enough to reduce the effect of the floodbreath as we sailed through (if it could be called sailing, without sails and a mast).
We had to rely on magic once again in order to steer, but Karim had volunteered heavy use of his script magic to create the effect of a rudder. The waves were constantly knocking us away from the direction we chose, but we had nowhere else to go, and nothing to spend but time. We persevered and headed to one of the few structures that still appeared to be mostly above water.
When we reached it, we found bodies.
Three dead men in surprisingly good condition were lying on top of the roof. Their skin was a darker shade of blue than the young boy’s had been, and their hair was seafoam green, unlike his white. They wore ornate coats of scaled mail, with each scale resembling a tiny, shimmering seashell. Eadric grunted in appreciation over the craft, and recommended that we take whatever pieces that could fit over our thin Woad chain mail shirts. I strapped on a shimmering epaulet and some wave-patterned shin armor, along with a light helm that fit my head without looking too ridiculous. Virtus, Eadric, and Breyn all looted the armor as well, though we had all waited for Breena to confirm that the men were actually dead before we began removing their equipment.
“Why do you do this?” the little boy asked, appearing right behind us. “Their covering did not help them survive. Why would it help you?”
“Because it’s still more than what we had before we came down here,” I replied, “And survival is more about doing a bunch of little things than it is doing one or two big things. Does it bother you that we moved their bodies?”
“No,” he asked, tilting his head curiously. “Why would it? Their rest was disturbed long before you touched them. This place would be just as haunted without you. How could you make us all more dead?”
“Are all of you dead?” I asked gently, hoping I could get more answers out of the little one before he repeated his habit of dissolving. “How did you die, if your hunter could not follow you down here?”
“He did not need to,” the boy replied sadly. “It was the flood that wrecked us all.”
Once again, he collapsed into water and nothingness. The bodies of the warriors beneath our feet followed his example, except that the puddles left in their wake lingered, flowing over to long poles we had not noticed yet.
“Take them,” a tired, masculine voice spoke from one of the evaporating puddles. “The cold hurts them. Take what knowledge you can still save, then flee from this place.” the voice hesitated, then spoke again. “You have given us some small shred of hope, would-be king. But you should not have come here.”
With that, the former Atlantean vanished.
“I am no would-be king,” I growled at the departed ghosts. Then I turned my attention to the weapons the dead soldier had indicated. Five of them were short, silver spears about the same length as Virtus’ javelins and probably had the same intended function. Another two were of the same length Breyn’s people liked to use, while the last was just a short, stabbing blade with wave-motifs etched along the center. All of the weapons had cold, blue blades that reminded me of the Hoarfolk’s swords, except that these weapons resembled rippling fluid instead of crystalline ice.
I had a number of powerful weapons already, so the rest of my team divided the new finds among themselves. Breyn marveled at the chance to hold an Atlantean weapon, while Eadric gave another grunt in appreciation over the quality of the craftsmanship of his own spear. Val just shrugged and tucked the short blade and its sheath into her belt. As there was nothing
in the building left to discover,we reboarded our craft to venture further into this place.
Once again, waves rocked against our impromptu boat. The wards covering the sides gleamed. They seemed as if they would hold, but I wouldn’t want to rely on this craft regularly if I could help it. It had taken a lot of time and mana to get it as functional as it currently was, and it would probably take even more to repair the beating it had already taken from the enchanted water. It occured to me that I would probably need to get my own ship at some point, since the only watercraft on Avalon itself was the boat in Guineve’s lake.
However, the raft served its purpose for now. We drifted our way to what rubble we could reach, collecting artifacts at the whispered suggestions of liquid and invisible ghosts. More pieces of shell-motif armor and weapons. A handful of jewelry, well-made and preserved, but not particularly valuable-looking. One half-shattered rooftop still held a heavily warded case that made the Testifiers tremble with excitement. Despite its covering of protective magic, it was easy to open, and Karim let out an uncharacteristic gasp at the sight.
“What is it?” I asked. “And why was it surrounded in such powerful preservation magic?”
“History,” the scribe breathed. “The symbols covering the case bore similarities to the scripts we teach our novices. That can only mean that these people somehow played a role in the foundation of our order.” He gripped the book reverently, marveling at the magic still warding it. “Somehow, despite their destruction, they left enough behind for my order to take up their mission of preserving history. This book may very well have answers as to how they did so.”
“We need to find more,” Eadric spoke up, eyes shining. The normally dour dwarf looked more excited than I had ever seen before. “They could have murals. Carvings. Statues…”
“Songs,” Weylin added. “The notes and lyrics written down. Even instruments.” he looked at the box, and the other items we had found so far. “Everything is so well preserved, despite time and this magic flood. There should not even be buildings left in this place.”
Lighting Distant Shores Page 18
