Chapter 131 – The Storybook Knight
It takes several hours to get everything in place. Dizzi’s mages set up the overarching illusion to preserve the appearance of inactivity while Fyrethians help Marlow’s crew strip the ship bare. As soon as we think we have everything out, I add his airship to my Inventory. Beneath the veil of the illusion, his ship vanishes, and a handful of loose nails and debris rain to the ground. The mages won’t be able to keep the illusion up forever, so we need to move quickly.
While Marlow’s ship was being unloaded, I was simultaneously having whatever objects he deemed necessary transported to the lower ballroom, where the trip’s provisions were also being collected. It’s in this unused ballroom, complete with vaulted ceilings, that I remove Marlow’s ship from my Inventory. The airship blinks into existence in the room before us, and people immediately set about loading the ship back up.
“I admit,” Captain Marlow says as he watches his ship loaded up with supplies. “This is the most unique plan for sneaking out of a port that I’ve ever seen.”
“I imagine not many ships have the resources for such an escape,” I reply.
“Shame you couldn’t have enacted this ploy weeks ago.” Marlow scratches his chin thoughtfully. “We could have returned with extra soldiers by now.”
I smile tightly. “That’s not necessary.”
“More importantly,” Mirzayael adds, “this trick will only work once. We had to save it for when it would be most impactful.”
Marlow nods along.
“I hope this really will be the most impactful way to use it,” Mirzayael thinks to me privately. “We could have used it to flank the gods when they arrive instead.”
“I doubt they would remain surprised for long,” I respond. “And I don’t like the idea of trying to fight them outside the protection of the dome. Our people would be decimated.”
Mirzayael doesn’t argue with this. She dislikes the idea of passively waiting for the gods to attack us, but at the same time, she sees the reason in not putting our soldiers in unnecessary danger. Especially if we can win without having to lose anyone.
Theoretically.
If Kanin and Sandro deliver us the plans in time.
But I can’t dwell on that; what they do is out of my hands. All I can do is give them the best chance of success and be ready for when they come through. I have faith in them; and Mirzayael has faith in me.
As the afternoon wanes and dusk settles in, Sandro meets me down in the ballroom. He watches the ship in silence for a moment, and I can only try to imagine what he’s thinking. Abruptly, he chuckles to himself.
“You know, I think you believe in me more than I believe in myself,” Sandro says to me. “Is that strange?”
“Not at all,” I say. “It’s rather normal, I think. Mirzayael also believes in me more than I believe in myself. When you’re so close, it’s easy to see your own faults—and hard to zoom out to see your greater potential. But that’s what friends are for.”
Sandro meets my smile with a nervous one of his own. I do hope I’m not pushing him too hard. But I think spending time with Kanin will be good for his ability to control the Shroud—and I do need them both out of the city regardless for this plan to work.
“Your Role will be okay?” I confirm with him, automatically checking his Sanity stat: 100%.
“Yeah,” he says, turning his attention back to the ship and rubbing an arm. “Having the wyverns with me will help. Also, Ollie and I figured out that beating him in a game counts for my Role as well. I tried with Sora, and we found it works with dracid, too.”
I lift an impressed eyebrow. He hadn’t told me any of this before. It seems he’s been performing experiments of his own. For all my faith in him, perhaps I was still underestimating the boy.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I say. “Hopefully, the trip won’t take long enough for that to matter, anyway.” Ideally, it will only take a week to get to the coordinates that Shirasil gave Kanin. However, those same coordinates point to the center of a volcano, so it’s hard to say how long it might take to recover Shirasil’s notes safely. Then the plans need to make it back to us. Ideally, I’m going to buy Kanin and Sandro one month to complete their quest.
It hurts that I won’t be able to go with them. I desperately want to. But after my excursion to the Heavens, I’m more hesitant to leave the city than ever; and I’m needed here if this plan is going to work.
The time for everyone to depart arrives far too quickly, and yet, I feel every hour pressing down on us. One minute in the Heavens, and Blair warned they were preparing to strike. How much longer will they take?
“I suppose that’s it, then,” I say as everyone gathers below the airship. Kanin is accompanied by Zyneth, Noli, and her wife, while Sandro sports a wyvern on each shoulder. A cambion, an orc, two elves, and a glass man. It’s a motley crew, yet I have no doubts in their abilities.
As long as they’re able to slip away from the Fortress undetected.
I attempt an encouraging smile, but the expression feels tight on my face. “You best be on your way.”
Kanin’s head swivels around. “Er, how? We’re at least three stories underground.”
The Dungeon Core looms over my mind, as if summoned.
Now? Can it eat all the rocks now?!
Soon, I tell it. Just another minute.
It doesn’t know how long a minute is.
I chuckle. “Don’t worry about that—I have it handled.”
I stand there for a long moment, unsure what else to say. I’ve never been good at good-byes.
The two young men before me have changed so much in the short time I’ve known them. Sandro has begun to learn self confidence; Kanin has begun to learn self forgiveness. They’ve made such progress. Yet, I suspect they are still in the early stages of a far greater adventure.
Lacking words, I spread my arms, and Kanin moves forward to accept the offered hug. He squeezes me lightly, carefully—as if afraid of his own strength—then lets go.
“You’ll always be welcome here, you know that?” I tell him.
“I know,” Kanin says quietly. “And I intend to come back.”
“Good.” I give his hand one last pat. “Ollie is going to miss you. And Dizzi. And the Travelers. And Mirzayael… probably.”
She’s currently on the wall, keeping an eye out for the gods. She told me she’d be more useful up there, but I’m starting to suspect she dislikes good-byes even more than I do.
Kanin laughs. “Maybe not Mirzayael.”
I chuckle along with him. “She cares, she just has a subdued way of showing it.”
As Kanin and his friends head toward the airship and begin the procession up its ladder, Sandro lingers nearby.
He takes a deep breath. “I—I wanted to say sorry.”
“Sorry?” I repeat, baffled. I immediately have a sinking feeling that he’s going to refuse to leave. “Sorry for what?”
“For how all this started,” he says. “With Ollie. And my Role. I really didn’t know he was a kid. I’ve felt terrible about that ever since.”
My worry dissolves into sympathy. “Sandro, that was months ago. Has that been eating at you all this time?”
“Well, yeah.” He glances away, rubbing at an arm. “How could it not? I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I mean, Dragon Slayer? That’s not me. I’m not a fighter or some kind of storybook knight. You know, back on Earth, I was a complete loser.”
I start to object, but he cuts me off with a derisive laugh.
“I was so scared of failing, I’d never try. Never applied to college. Never asked a girl out. Never left my hometown. I’d eat the same meals, talk to the same people, play the same games, because the familiar was comforting, and anything new or different was a potential source of failure.” He shakes his head, rubbing a temple, and one of his wyverns chirps in protest, taking flight to circle up and land on the airship. “The Shroud really was perfect for me.”
My heart aches. “The you of yesterday is not the you of today. Our past informs us, shapes us, but the beauty of existence is the ability to change. And maybe you can’t see it, but you have.” I gently take his hand away from his temple, where he’s slouched behind it as if hiding his eyes would hide this encounter itself. “Maybe you were perfect for the Shroud.”
He looks up at me with a frown. “That’s what I just said.”
I shake my head. “You said it was perfect for you, like it was some punishment you deserved. But you know? Maybe it needed someone like you. Someone who’s had to face his fears head-on. Someone who has learned to try new things—make new friends—take on responsibility.” I gesture to the wyvern still on his shoulder. “Becoming the city’s wyvern master, that was all you. Maybe the Shroud could learn a thing or two from your experience.”
Sandro is silent, blinking. Then he quickly wipes at the corner of an eye, and meets my gaze with a wide smile. “I don’t know about all that. I’ll take some time to think about it. But I do know you saved my life by taking me into this city. And now that you need my help to save the city, I’m not going to let you down.”
This time he’s the one to hug me—causing his other wyvern to also take flight with an annoyed squawk—and he squeezes me tight. The Shroud ripples at his back, but doesn’t try to pull him away from me. I think he’s made more progress with the remnant than he realizes.
“Goodbye, Fyre,” Sandro says when he lets go. His eyes are misted again, but he’s smiling a genuine smile. “I’ll see you again soon.”
When the boy turns away, he pauses to straighten his posture, head up, shoulders back. He climbs up the airship’s ladder without looking back.
A few minutes later, Captain Marlow gives the signal. I reach for the Dungeon Core, but it’s right there, eagerly waiting.
I close my eyes, letting my mind follow the Dungeon Core’s senses through the earth. I’d scoped out this route before; there are no plumbing systems or spell networks that might be disrupted beneath the ballroom. I give the Core the go-ahead, and it begins to eat.
The floor beneath the airship vanishes, an invisible bite taken out of the ground. The Core eagerly dives downward, munching and chewing through the base of the Fortress. Then, it keeps going.
We gain mana as it consumes some of the Drifting Isle’s stone that’s been suffused with storm arcana. Compared to the amount the Core has been absorbing over the past months, however, the extra mana amounts to crumbs. I narrow the Core’s range as I push it down, down, down, through the entirety of the Drifting Isles. Until eventually, the ground stops, and there’s nothing beneath it but open air.
I open my eyes, and the Core’s range expands back to fill the Fortress. It sighs contently into my mind, coiling about itself like a cat before a fireplace, settling down for a well-deserved nap. The airship is already sinking into the tunnel.
I wave as the main deck comes level with myself. Captain Marlow is busy running his ship, but Kanin and Sandro both raise a hand in parting. Then they’re swallowed by the floor, disappearing into the dark.
Sometime before dawn, only a few hours after I’d finally retired to the warmth of Mirzayael’s company and bed, the Fortress’s alarm activates.
The gods have arrived.