132 – Receive
“To summarize,” Rafael said in a faintly amused tone, “you wish for me to navigate an interrogation with an eccentric, prideful dragon—the daughter of the Dragon King—on behalf of you, a party her family holds a grievance against. She is injured. She has disobeyed her kind's long-standing laws on non-involvement in the mortal lands. Indeed, she may deny her presence in the event entirely. And seeing how she might be the only person who knows what happened at Prismarche, a successful discussion is of paramount importance. Finally, you don’t wish to reveal yourself to her because the two of you met earlier, and she currently believes you to be a rogue dragon—or is using that possibility as an excuse to explore the mortal lands for a purpose she never explained.” He smiled. “Is that everything, my lady?”
Hearing all the moving parts listed out, Vivi couldn’t help but make a face. Even without throwing in the last detail—them having met earlier under already convoluted circumstances—the situation would’ve been a headache. Everything mixed together, the mess bordered on absurdity.
“There’s a reason I came to you instead of dealing with it myself,” she said with a sigh.
A raised eyebrow conveyed everything it needed to. “Indeed, my lady. I understand your hesitance. It is an interesting predicament.”
“So you can help?”
“What other purpose does a steward have?” he asked. “When do we leave?”
“Now, if you’re ready.”
Unflustered, he held a hand out. It wasn’t quite envy or annoyance that passed through her upon seeing how easily the man took the nightmarish request in stride, but maybe something close. She would’ve needed a few weeks minimum to form a battle plan.
Vivi rested her palm on Rafael’s. “I’ll be watching with a [Farsight], and I’ll project my voice to you privately if there’s something I need to say. But I’ll try to avoid that. I really don’t want her to know I’m spying.”
“It would be a fast way to end the encounter on a not-amicable note,” he agreed.
“Ready?”
“At your leisure.”
Vivi warped them across the human kingdoms and [Blinked] them into an alleyway. They shared one more look before Vivi wrapped herself in a fresh [Invisibility].
Rafael straightened his jacket—still without seeming disoriented by his sudden task—strode out, identified the Adventurer’s Guild to his right, and headed confidently toward its main doors.
One day, I’ll find something that catches him flat-footed. It just might take a couple centuries.
Vivi flew up and rested on the roof of the Guild, casting occasional [Farsights] to watch his progress through the interior of the large building. The receptionist pointed him to Embralyne’s room, and soon enough the demon stood outside her door. Despite not being the one about to speak, Vivi for some reason still felt like she needed a moment to organize her thoughts. But Rafael knocked without hesitation.
He received no answer to either the first or second polite barrage, but a muffled “Go away!” arrived after the third.
“Your Highness,” Rafael replied. “There are urgent matters we must discuss for the continued safety of the city. I’ve activated a privacy artifact; please speak at ease. I am Rafael of Vanguard, here on my guildmaster’s behalf.”
Vivi hadn’t expected the man to lead so bluntly, though perhaps letting Embralyne digest those announcements in the comfort of her room was the best way to handle the situation. A long silence ensued, which Rafael bore patiently.
At last, the door swung open, and Princess Embralyne—now in the form of Lady Ember Caldwell, the shimmering outline of her wings gone—glared at the well-dressed demon standing in her entryway. Her gaze swept up and down him, and she didn’t seem impressed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, demon,” she said with a sniff.
The haughtiness of the dragon’s tone hadn’t disappeared from their last meeting, Vivi noted, but back then Embralyne had seemed vibrant and full of vigor. A bit odd, yet well-meaning despite the arrogance. Now she looked nothing short of exhausted. Battle-worn. Though she tried to stand tall in front of Vanguard’s steward, Vivi saw fatigue crushing the young woman down, and Embralyne had winced visibly when opening the door. For such a simple movement to pain a dragon meant she was more injured than Vivi had assumed.
Rafael bowed at the waist. “Please accept our deepest gratitude for your assistance, and trust that you will have Vanguard’s utmost discretion in this matter. This conversation will be known by none but my lady and me, and will remain that way in perpetuity.”
Embralyne narrowed her eyes and seemed to debate whether keeping up the charade had a point or not. Or so Vivi assumed—the princess wasn’t an easy woman to read.
“If you imply that I need discretion to prevent my father from hearing of what I’ve done, I’ll have your tongue for the insult. I will tell him myself. A daughter of the Caldaros family is not so craven as to run from the consequences of her actions. I act with purpose, and I stand by what I did, even if it goes against the will of my father.”
Apparently even Rafael could stick his foot in his mouth on occasion, because Embralyne seemed nothing short of incensed as she rebuked him.
“Of course,” Rafael said, dipping an inch lower in his bow. “My apologies. I never should have implied otherwise, nor expected anything besides steadfast conviction from the Dragon King’s blood.”
Vivi would’ve thought the flattery too overt, especially when it followed on the heels of what Embralyne had taken as an insult—but Rafael once again demonstrated that he could read people better than Vivi herself, because the dragon’s tense posture eased. She nodded idly, glad that Rafael had corrected his absurd misunderstanding. It could only be expected from silly mortals like him. “I will forgive it this once,” she said.
“Your grace is boundless, Your Highness.” Rafael straightened. “My lady saw you fighting in the sky above. She requested that I speak to you to find out what occurred this day. We are already in your debt, but we ask that you extend that graciousness further—the city may still be in danger.”
“Hmph. Afraid to come and talk to me herself, is she?”
“She is containing the breach and otherwise dealing with the situation at large,” Rafael replied. Which was true, technically, though misleading, seeing how Vivi was sitting atop the Adventurer’s Guild and spying on the conversation.
The dragon grunted. She studied Rafael for a moment longer, then sighed and turned to walk in. “Come. Before I change my mind.”
Rafael followed and closed the door softly behind him. Vivi, somewhat apprehensive despite her skill in spellcraft, slipped a [Farsight] inside with the highest degree of subtlety she could manage. No artifact blared warnings, nor did the dragon glance at the imperceptible shift in mana in the corner of the room. Vivi wasn’t sure she herself would’ve noticed it.
“It wasn’t my best invisibility,” Ember announced out of nowhere—and with a strangely obvious defensive tone. “I’m not the greatest with magic, but I still wouldn’t have been seen through under normal circumstances, not even by the Sorceress.” She sniffed.
Vivi was taken aback by the nearly childish words so contrasting the unyielding seriousness from a moment before, but Rafael himself didn’t falter. “I’m sure you are correct, Your Highness. For that matter, I can’t say whether she was certain herself. I believe she made assumptions based on context to identify you.”
Ember seemed pleased by the olive branch. She nodded. “Quite. I’m removing the transmogrification.” No sooner had she warned Rafael than the magic keeping her in human form melted away, and two enormous wings unfurled from her back. Scales crawled up her feet and hands, and horns—long and angled, impossible to mistake for a demon’s—sprouted from her matte-gray hair. Her orange eyes had already seemed to hold her family’s fire inside them, but now her full heritage showed: rather than merely mimicking pools of lava, they smoldered with heat Vivi could almost feel through the [Farsight] spell.
If Rafael was intimidated by seeing a mythical creature reveal her true form—one of them, rather—he didn’t show it on his face. Though maybe a forced, appraising neutrality was the closest he would ever get to displaying surprise.
Embralyne hadn’t been looking for a reaction anyway, because she didn’t glance at Rafael. She stretched, clearly satisfied that she wasn’t stuck in her human transmogrification any longer, then walked over to the edge of her bed and sat. She gestured at the wooden chair tucked underneath the room’s desk. Rafael did as he’d been implicitly asked and lowered himself.
The woman sat so straight-backed that the bed might as well have been a throne; she didn’t look undignified in the slightest for receiving her visitor in such an informal setting. “I doubt you’ll be able to pursue,” she said, cutting to what mattered. “Or rather, even if the Sorceress could, I would call her a madwoman to try.”
Vivi didn’t immediately understand what Embralyne meant, but Rafael did. “The suspect fled through the boundary?”
Embralyne snorted. “Yes. He said it was his goal to begin with—there’s something on the other side that he wants. Anyone could decipher that much, though what exactly he seeks, I have no idea.” A pause, then a reluctant addition: “He also mentioned he was fleeing your guildmaster.”
“The Fell Apostate?” Rafael surmised. Vivi’s lips pressed together. She had formed that theory too.
Princess Embralyne appeared to mull the Title over. “Is that one of his names? It seems like one he would bear.”
“One?”
“I know him through my father, and not by that Title. Rather: the Twilight Celebrant.”
“I have no recollection of that name,” Rafael said after a moment. He sounded displeased. Vivi imagined that being caught unaware was something the man hated above most else.
“As you shouldn’t, mortal. The Selrath-Kyn predates these kingdoms”—she waved around—“as you know them. They predate your race. The very first of your blood. That creature is an old monster, a shadow cast in the background of a thousand stories, none pleasant.” Embralyne huffed. “Really, it’s a given. Do you think there exist many mages who could defeat me in combat?”
“I certainly do not, Your Highness.” The words came out slowly. Vivi could see Rafael’s thoughts churning. Her own were as well. There was more than one implication to work through from what Embralyne had just revealed.
“What did he do to draw your guildmaster’s wrath?” the dragon asked.
“He led the ritual for the breach over Meridian.”
Embralyne nodded as if she’d expected the answer. “So you knew the danger he represented already. I imagine there are fewer than five in the world who could touch the boundary, much less shatter it.”
Vivi hesitated, wondering for the first time if she had underestimated the Fell Apostate simply because he’d worked behind the scenes. She’d known he must be an excellent ritualist, but she’d assigned the incredible catalyst—and Duke Caldimore’s involvement—as the predominant reason the ritual had succeeded.
Rafael paid attention to a different part of what Embralyne had said. “The dragons knew of the dimensional boundary before today?”
The woman paused, then frowned. “My people’s secrets are not yours. I’ve already said more than my father might approve of.” Without subtlety, she changed the topic. “The ritual did something to the townsfolk. The Sorceress is investigating?”
“Minor to moderate soul damage, uniformly across the population.”
Embralyne’s next question was conspicuously reserved, nearly probing. “And she’s working on curing it?”
“More immediate concerns occupy her, but yes, she will be.”
“She’s capable of such? For an entire city?”
A pause. “Her absence was long, but fruitful,” he said eventually.
Embralyne met the demon’s gaze with calculating eyes. That she had a more serious half to her behavior was catching Vivi by surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. “I see. Those void creatures were stronger than they should’ve been, for their level.”
“Indeed.”
“Rumors from your capital say some equalled the Cataclysms.”
“In levels only,” he replied. “Their resistances may be broken through with proper technique. My lady learned how to do so faster than most. Given the grand nature of the threat, she intends to share her studies with the public. Perhaps your family would like a copy of her notes?”
“Hmph.” She scrutinized Rafael suspiciously. In the end, she ignored the offer. “I’ve told you what you need to know. Is that it, mortal?”
He dipped his head. “I don’t wish to impose, but can I ask for more on the nature or identity of our enemy?”
“No,” she said. “As I told you, I’ve already said too much. My people’s knowledge—my father’s—is not mine to share.” She snorted. “If she wishes, she can come and discuss those topics with the Dragon King himself.” Her eyes flashed. “He is still owed an apology for her and her party’s actions.”
Rafael cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. It was such a natural movement that Vivi almost thought it unintentional, but she reminded herself that every action of his was measured. “I cannot speak on why my lady and her allies behaved as they did, back then,” he offered apologetically.
Vivi’s cheeks colored, even if Vivisari was the one at fault, for once.
Embralyne rolled her eyes, and with that break in her previous decorum, the stiff-backed haughtiness seemed to melt away too. She absently rubbed at her stomach and winced yet again. “You have no need for the blow-by-blow, demon, and I know little of the ritual itself, or how to cure the damage done to Prismarche or the boundary. That lies firmly in the Sorceress’s domain. Magic isn’t my specialty.”
Rafael recognized his cue. He stood. Vivi wanted him to press more, and almost projected her voice to tell him to, but she bit her lip and stopped herself. She’d chosen to trust him with these discussions, and she would. If he thought pushing would yield further information, he would do so. Thus, he must believe that it would just annoy Embralyne and sabotage possible future conversations.
Before leaving, he bowed again and presented the potion Vivi had handed to him earlier. “Our debt runs deeper than we can repay, but please accept this gift, Your Highness.”
Embralyne’s response came slowly, and she sounded offended when it did. “Do you think I need your potions to recover, mortal?”
“No, Princess. The constitution of a dragon is legendary, to say nothing of your family’s strength in particular. And your vaults possess treasures to make Vanguard tremble. Nevertheless, perhaps you can find use for this meager offering. You would honor us by accepting.”
Embralyne visibly struggled with herself. She clearly didn’t want to, but if her own alchemical stockpile could have cured whatever had her rubbing at the wound on her stomach, then she surely would’ve used it. And despite the preceding exchange, a level-two-thousand potion hand-crafted by the Sorceress was a treasure that would sit tidily inside even the Dragon King’s vault.
Her pride warred with her practicality, and eventually, she grimaced and took the potion. “There is no debt. I act on my own desires, my own honor. But if you wish to settle what you think you owe, then cure the people of Prismarche.”
“We intend to, Your Highness.”
“Good. You are dismissed.”
Rafael bowed deeply yet again, rose, and left the dragon alone inside her room.