“I don’t know, little Bree,” Guineve replied, her voice growing softer. I heard control in that voice, dozens, maybe hundreds of centuries of practice in dealing with grief and pain. “All I know is that we can keep choosing to be there for him.”
“It’s not fair!” Breena shrilled, suddenly looking up. “Why did you let this happen to him? He did what you wanted! He helped me when I needed it! He could have been killed again! But he didn’t stop until I could hear you! Why are—” she stopped to dry her tear-stained face. “Why are you still letting him hurt?”
Daughter, the voice said softly to her.
“He cannot help it, little Bree,” Guineve said softly, with just a hint of hardness in her voice. “He is the Destroyer God. Those who choose to be his heroes are said to suffer themselves, in the very oldest of his legends. He may have been the reason the old Earthborn died out, for they followed him.”
Daughter, the voice repeated, this time seemingly at Guineve.
“No,” she replied without looking up, still gently massaging me. “I do not forgive you. Our Wes hurts. Others hurt.”
Crown him, the voice persisted. I rage. Crown him, and write love on his arms.
“You have to help,” Breena sobbed defiantly, still wiping away continuous streams of tears as she touched my shoulder. “You can’t just let him help me, and then go back to silently watching him hurt! You can’t!”
Something shuddered around her. The faintest murmur echoed behind the little fairy.
I will protect. I will restore. I will be queen.
The invisible voice answered her once more.
Daughter. Crown him. Love him. I rage.
The two Satellites held me for a moment, and none of us spoke.
Somehow, that did more for me, and mattered more to me than anything else could have.
Chapter 15: Waiting For the Tide
Wes Malcolm
Origin: Earthborn (Dusk Era), Avalonian (Challenger), Woadfolk (Elder), Atlantean (True). Other bloodlines unknown
Rise Level: 25th Rise (Candle)
0 spare skill points
0 spare Rise points
Saga: Unconquered Hero
Act 2: Unbowed Bones. +5 Con, Will, Str. General resistance to crushing damage and pressure-based attacks
Strength: 350
Dexterity: 343
Constitution: 352
Intelligence: 372
Wisdom: 347
Charisma: 348
Speed: 397
Deftness: 393
Wits: 390
Will: 508
Paths: War, Kings, Archmage
Skills (averaged): Weapons (30), Ideal Magic (30), Saga Magic (30) Misc Skills (20)
Profession: Leader (Rank: Noble)
Art: War (Newly Gained)
Science: Forming
Craft: Forming
Guineve and Breena took care of me the rest of the day. I wound up having nothing to do, because the rest of my team just told me they’d take care of everything, and then gave me space. I didn’t come to any life-altering conclusions about the memory, or the messages that indicated it may have been false, so I focused on the other changes I could actually process, and took a look at my mindscreen. I hadn’t undergone another Rise, but there had been too many other changes to my body at the time to risk assigning more points to my Traits. But after unlocking the rest of my Atlantean bloodline, my body finally seemed to settle down, so I took the opportunity to review my latest acquisitions.
I found that, despite the massive gains I had received to my Strength and Constitution from eating thirty dragon pieces, my Intelligence had become the highest of my primary Traits. Granted, that was only out of the Primary Traits. My Will Trait was so high, it was scary, and probably had progressed higher than all but a handful of the mightiest heroes in our corner of the Expanse. I made the decision to put all of my remaining points into Charisma. That raised my dangerously high Will even higher, but it was currently my lowest primary Trait, and I really didn’t want to have Stell’s next Satellite try to kill me on our first meeting like Merada had.
Thoughts of the next world reminded me of something: being able to suddenly breathe underwater was really, really weird.
I had done it a few times before, in order to practice. It involved one of the Water spells Breena had made a point to teach me. What really surprised me was just how similar the Atlantean’s natural ability to breathe water was to the spell itself. I didn’t suddenly grow gills or anything. My lungs just magically seemed to treat water like normal air, and my body was able to handle the pressure from being surrounded in water a little better. I would still need magical enhancements to help me handle deep dives, which meant that the Atlanteans must have used magic themselves to survive whenever they submerged their mythical city.
Speaking of the Atlanteans, it was time to go attempt to save their world. I had been to the Sun-Jeweled Seas before, back when Stell and Breena were still training me in the basics of being a Challenger. I knew that most of the world was covered in water, and that even with my new genetic abilities, I would need a boat to travel around while there, especially if I didn’t want to go alone. And I didn’t, because anything that could affect the planet so badly that most of the population disappeared was something I didn’t want to face without all the backup I could possibly cram into a ship.
As luck would have it, my ancient predecessors had felt the same way.
The Pathway to the Sun-Jeweled Seas had become accessible shortly after I had completed the last Rite. Another series of tunnels near my manor led to it, opening up to one of the largest chambers I had seen, outside of those used for the Rites. The chamber was a massive underground cavern that featured an expansive lake, even larger than the one Guineve drew power from. It stretched all the way out to meld with a shimmering curtain of watery energy that hung in the air, the second Pathway I had seen so far. This one was wide enough to sail a whole fleet of ships through, stretching out until it was over a kilometer wide. And, in what I would have considered another bout of great fortune, there actually was a fleet of ships on the nearby shore, along with a series of stone docks. Their sizes varied from small, canoe-like crafts, to huge juggernauts that were probably bigger than the galleons of medieval Europe. The wooden boards on their sides fit together almost seamlessly, and I could see small glyphs along their sails and masts.
Unfortunately, that was only true for the undamaged portions of these ships. Most of them had been savagely wrecked. All of the largest ships were missing great chunks of their hulls, causing them to list in the low water. I could not see a single working mast on any of the large ships, as the great poles were either missing completely or lying across the deck in several pieces. The decks themselves looked as if they had been scorched with arcane fire, and at least one prow looked like part of it had been bitten clean off. Every single vessel looked to have been scuttled, and as I scrutinized further, I could see more broken wreckage just above the water line.
I sighed, and turned to look at the Atlanteans accompanying us.
“I take it the invaders wrecked all of Avalon’s ships when they attacked?”
“All of the large ones,” Gabin, the soldier I had first met inside the Tidefather, admitted sadly.
Markhen’s brother was a tall, aquamarine-skinned man with deep green straight hair that he kept short and covered with a bandana. He had a lean, wiry build, taller and thinner than Breyn, and was almost my height. His clothing, including a shell-scale cuirass, looked suitable for sailing. He carried a spear strapped to his back and a short, thin blade thrust into a wide cloth belt athis side. The Atlantean gathering had elected him to be my escort back to their former world. He was one of their only soldiers, since most of the Atlantean army had fought primarily in naval combat, either aboard ships or under water. “The attack took us all by surprise, as you have probably been told before,” he admitted sadly. “Every race did what they could, but it became clear within the firs
t hour that we were hopelessly outmatched on this front.” He shook his head. “If we’d had another hour to prepare, we could have had the fleet out and ready for them. Maybe we could have even fought off the Tidefather. As it was, though, we were forced to leave the fleet behind and evacuate to the Shelter. I believe you know enough of the rest.”
“I suppose I do,” I replied with a sigh of my own. “I take it we’re going to spend a lot of time repairing these docks?”
He nodded uncomfortably.
“I’m afraid so. Even if all the large ships hadn’t been wrecked, there’s too much wreckage in the harbor to sail anything larger than a lifeboat through the Pathway. And I wouldn’t recommend receiving any traffic yet, either.”
“Gabin, I don’t want to be unreasonable with you,” I said slowly. “But I need to get to the Sun-Jeweled Seas as fast as possible. The planet is even closer to the verge of being lost than the Woadlands were when I arrived. It’s why I haven’t spent more than a day of downtime to recover, despite the fact that we just battled mind-demons and had to crawl inside a dragon. How soon can you get me to the Sun-Jeweled Seas?”
“If you wanted to take a large ship?” he replied frankly. “Probably several months, if we use all the magic we have. That would include a rough patching job on one of the galleons and clearing the most narrow channel through the wreckage possible. But if you wanted to take a smaller ship, we could get you out today, Lord Earthborn.”
“I apologize for not making myself clear earlier,” I said levelly. “And I want to recognize the fact that we have all just met and you really haven’t had much time to understand me and figure out what I normally want. But it should be very obvious that the second choice is the best answer here. Even with the way time passes more quickly here, I doubt the Sun-Jeweled Seas will last the number of months needed to clear the harbor. Is there some other reason we shouldn’t take the smaller ship?”
“No, my lord,” Gabin sighed in relief. “We had assumed you would wish to leave sooner and had prepared the only working caravel. The invaders must have chosen to overlook it while they were destroying the rest of the fleet. We’ve already repaired what little damage it had. I only asked because I was not sure how many people you wanted to fit inside.”
“That depends,” I replied, going over my earlier thoughts on this matter. “I’d want something big enough for my normal retinue at the very least, which would be about five people…” I did a quick mental count to make sure that was correct. Eadric, Weylin, Karim, Breyn, and Val. I wasn’t counting the fairies in that bunch because they could fly, consumed almost no food, as long as they got a little bit of sugar, and could shrink down to the size of a pencil if necessary, all without being any worse for the wear. But to be safe…
“Counting myself and the two fairies, that makes eight people total,” I replied. “So I’d take them, plus whatever crew we could get away with. I’d like the ship to be big enough to carry all of us, as well as a good amount of emergency supplies, with the option to be able to bring more people back with us if the planet wound up being a lost cause. Can the caravel do all that?”
“Easily,” Gabin nodded confidently. “Depending on how many people and supplies you wanted to take with you. But this ship can be crewed by seven to fifteen people, hold forty tons of cargo, and still have room for over fifty passengers, although it will be quite cramped at that point.”
“That’s fantastic,” I replied, and I noticed a nearby group of fifteen people that Gabin had clearly chosen to serve as crew, all armed. “And it looks like you’ve already picked out the perfect team for this.”
“I have, Lord Earthborn,” the man nodded again. “If you’ll pardon my assuming so. Everyone on the team can fight with spear, blade, and javelin. A few of us are archers as well, though we don’t claim elven or Woadfolk skill. And all of us are at least Initiates in Water and Script magic. The seven worlds may have forgotten the legends about the Scholar’s Marines, but we are more than ready to remind them. If you’ll pardon my boast, Lord Earthborn,” the Atlantean ended respectfully, but with pride.
“Fully pardoned,” I grinned. “And I’d prefer it if you called me something other than Lord Earthborn all the time. Wes, or Lord Challenger, if you absolutely have to throw an honorific in there, will do.” For some reason, being recognized as a Challenger bothered me less than being recognized as an Earthborn. Actually, that was probably because most of the other Earthborn had given the name a bad reputation.
“As you wish, Lord Challenger,” the man nodded respectfully. “We should be ready to leave within the hour.”
“Excellent,” I replied, turning to confer with the rest of my team.
I had to determine what exactly we were going to be taking with us. Breena had trained me for naval combat a long time ago, but that was back when I could only carry a little more than a normal human. I had chosen not to take a lot of gear with me on those missions because I didn’t want to drown, and I knew what limits that gave me.
Now, though, I could carry a couple hundred pounds all day just as easily as a normal person could carry a two pound weight they had strapped to themselves. My muscles had enhanced further, thanks to my Saga, allowing me to carry half again as much as someone with my same Strength score. I should be strong enough to tread water in full armor, and even if I couldn’t, I still wouldn’t drown. Furthermore, all of my armor was heavily enchanted and the outermost layer was made by people who specialized in naval combat.
That last bit had caused me to ask one of the Atlanteans about the material. I asked if there was any special magic to their equipment that would help me survive at sea. The scholar’s rapid blinking had told me just how stupid my question was. He explained that his people treated the water with respect, because the sea was still a dangerous place, even for them. Their armor came with all manner of enchantments for dealing with the ocean. Protection against erosion from the water and salty air. The ability to float for brief periods, because even if they could breathe underwater, the deep was still dangerous and none of their people wanted to sink to the bottom of it in the middle a fight. Even then, just in case they did need to fight something a couple hundred meters below the surface, the armor came with built-in protection against high pressure, working a bit like a deep-sea diving suit for the wearer’s whole body, even the uncovered portions. Finally, the patient man explained to me that even though his people could breathe underwater if they had to, the act was still more tiring than breathing air, so every suit that their elite warriors wore came with its own oxygen spell. He relaxed when he saw how impressed I was, and probably just assumed that most people in this current age didn’t have the level of magic and knowledge that his own race did.
He was right on all counts, which was why I secured suits for the entire team. Not everyone was used to fighting in heavy armor. In fact, about half the team chose to rely on magic and speed for their primary defense, but I still requested that they wear at least an aketon, or even a brooch or bracelet, with the same enchantments. I even insisted on having the fairies each wear a tiny band augmented with the same protective magic, despite the argument Breena threw at me. That thought made me ponder out loud if there was a way to actually make armor for her, which started another fight, so I gave up on that idea and tried to figure out why so many female warriors outside of Earth hated the idea of wearing so much armor. Maybe it was because they hadn’t seen the bikini-plate featured so often in fantasy art. Or, just as likely, they had seen pictures of bikini-plate and had decided to distrust anyone from Earth whenever they brought up the idea of armor for them.
Even with all of that figured out, it was a bit of a mental exercise to not feel like an idiot as I boarded the ship in my full kit. Especially when Gabin gave me a look when I did so.
“So should I not be wearing all of this?” I asked him, looking down at my scalemail, chainmail, and gambeson.
“It depends, my lord,” the Atlantean marine answered carefully. “If you
are expecting trouble as soon as we enter the Pathway, I suppose it makes sense.”
“Oh, definitely,” I replied. “The only time I’m not really expecting trouble is when I’m asleep on Avalon, and even then, I feel like I’m making a mistake.”
“I can respect that level of prudence,” the man answered, still cautious, “and your suit will keep you afloat if necessary. But I imagine it will get heavy in time, if you are not used to the weight. I’m stronger than my brethren, so I can wear my armor longer than most. But I will be taking off my cuirass as soon as I am sure we will be safe on the other side, and I will not be wearing my full kit until I am certain we will be facing danger.” His eyes continued to read me. Then he looked over to Eadric, also in his full kit, who just shrugged.
“Yep,” he replied. “I’m a dwarf, and he’s crazy. You’ll get used to it.”
“Also, he’s super-strong,” Val added, walking up. “Really. Sparring with him sucks.”
“She’s right,” Breyn chimed in with a wince, despite being a muscular fellow himself. “It’s pretty unfair.”
“So in conclusion, as long as I don’t get too tired, or possibly too hot, I’m fine?” I asked, turning my attention back to the conversation at hand. “My team and I shouldn’t be wearing anything else while we sail between worlds for the first time on a ship we’ve never used before?”
“Ah,” Gabin said as he opened his mouth. “I now understand my lord’s question better. No. You’re fine. The Pathways are usually not turbulent to sail through. But as a precaution, go ahead and secure yourself to something before we make our exit.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “That will be all.”
As we boarded, I turned my attention back to Eadric.
“Hey,” I asked. “I noticed you guys haven’t done that “witnessed in song, script, stone thing recently.”
“That’s right,” the dwarf said, giving me a cool look.
Lighting Distant Shores (Challenger's Call Book 4) Page 30
