The Drake of Craumont

As it turns out, Lizzie can be a decent study when she wants to be— a bit too ambitious, though, giving herself a headache trying to use regular and magical sight simultaneously. "A terrible shame I can't medicate properly for that," she says with a thin smile, one hand on her head. "Wine would make me too sloppy for a good chase, hm?"

I snort, tail flicking as I lean back in my seat. It’s a rather comfortable chair, one stolen from my father’s study, and the girls in front of me sit in chairs stolen from my mother’s study. Less comfortable on account of being stiffer, but better for concentrating, really. “Wouldn’t feel it until the second bottle, Lizzie, and you’d get the headache back by the time you’d left the Manor.”

"Ah," Lena starts, ears flattened and eyes closed, "Wouldn't it take a few dozen bottles to get anything out of it? Um, I read that... ow, ow, no, I'm tasting something now, that's not right... Why is this so much harder than seeing spell structures?"

“For a novice at teaching the stranger parts of magic, dear, you’re doing quite well, I think,” Lizzie drawls, bringing her hand down. “Better than our old tutors, but certainly just as grumpy, hm?”

An arch of an eyebrow and a click-clack-thud of my tail against the side of my desk serves as a response. Because, really, Lizzie? And then I drag my thoughts back to something more productive. Reaching to the side, I pick up the uncorked healing potion and add a few drops to Lena’s mug of water. Lizzie’s, after a quick inspection, seems fine. I nudge hers a little closer to her.

“Sensing something, at least,” I tell Lena, carefully disregarding Lizzie’s huff. “You don’t really see spell structures, you feel them out with your magic. Same principle, but the same tricks don’t work if you try to look beyond that.”

“Don’t work may be selling it short, dear,” Lizzie adds a bit testily, eyes closed once more. “Lena’s holding it longer than I am, and I suspect there’s more than a few bad habits I have to work past.”

She massages her temples, painted lips curling into a fanged scowl. “If we didn’t have an urgent need for this, I daresay I’d have called it a week to nurse my pride.”

There’s a temptation to smirk at that, and I take it. “And here I thought Lizzie was good at everything.”

Lizzie chuckles, then downs her entire mug and slides it back to me. "I have a reputation, dear, don't go sullying it."

Lena frowns, brow furrowing. “I was holding it too, um. Does it count if I used the wrong sense?”

“The Guildmaster senses using smell. Not a damned clue how, but she does,” I counter, then realize I have to counter myself. Bah. “Can’t say I recommend it. Take the compliment.”

Lena mumbles something in response, a gathering of half-words that slip through nearly closed lips and amount to nothing. Her heart does skip up to a faster pace, though, and that’s answer enough.

“Good,” I decide, tail flicking from side to side behind me. I pour Lizzie another cup of water, adding a few more drops of the healing potion. Let’s see, what’s next? I dig through my thoughts, rifling through memories and dredging up the useful ones.

“Helps if you can visualize yourself descending, at least for me,” I say finally, raising a hand to examine my scales. The next words take a moment to push past my lips, hanging on through a mix of feelings that tugs strangely on my heart. “I imagine myself covered in scales and swimming downward, sometimes. Makes it so that when I sense things in the abstract, there’s a separation.”

It had become easier after— after my fall into the abstract, really.

Lizzie frowns, shutting her eyes. The feathers and scales on her body spread, a shimmering green and blue plumage building behind her ears and on her neck. “Perhaps submerging into a hot bath, or climbing down the side of a building? Hm.”

"Would that make you look, um, scaly, with Magesight? More scaled, I mean," Lena asks in reply, eyes scrunched closed. "Magical adaptation is, ah, based on the person, and the core of magic in a person is the soul. And you're a Drake because of your adaptations, so... um."

Gods, where do I start with that. Good questions, but still questions plural and at least one foundational mystery touched upon.

"Abstract sight," I stress, because we aren't Judician, "despite being about showing magic, doesn't show souls— except for Gods, apparently, but you really shouldn't burn your mind out by trying. No, I don't know why," I hold up a hand and tap her boot with my tail, "Would’ve heard if anyone figured that out, I’m pretty up to date on the academic journals. But yes, I would have scales, because that's my mindset and self-image when I'm working with abstract sight."

Lizzie hisses, snapping up her water and downing half in one go. Impressive, considering her eyes were closed the entire time. “Ah! Climbing down a building doesn’t quite work, and I am not— dear, would jumping work? It sounds foolish, but I should ask.”

I grimace, letting a shuddering memory slip free of my skull and out through a flick of my tail. “Don’t. You’re not moving anywhere, but—”

“—you started with that, dear, I know—”

“—there’s a chance you’ll still shove yourself against the World and rebound,” I finish, the fissures in my soul aching sympathetically. I can see the cogs whirring in Lena’s mind as she tries to picture that, and Lizzie just looks generally displeased with the thought. “Not worth the headache or soul damage. Try easing yourself into a bath instead. That’s controlled, you can pull out easier...”

---

Once again, Lizzie is a decent study. Abstract vision is clearly not her area of skill, but she manages, with Lena close behind... The looks of wonder on their faces are memories I’ll treasure. I even got a good laugh, when Lena opened her eyes from said wonder and instantly gave herself another headache.

It’s not quite enough to quell that rising impatience, one stymied first by the insistence of my friends and family: if I had gone out to start, we might have found Dongbaek already. The hunt would be over, my claws latched to his frail flesh.

Though, with my magic as weak as it is, perhaps I’d end up like Verity was just an hour ago, blood dripping from her lips. My heart twinges at the thought.

Not that it matters, in the end. I grit my teeth against that restless urge as we step back into the lobby, letting Lizzie stride out ahead of me.

Verity’s already looking, yellow-white eyes flickering in the light of the Fire crystal lamps. She’s leaning against the wall, and it’s hard to miss the bags under her eyes.“Welcome back! How’d it go? Headachey, I presume?”

Lizzie clicks her tongue as she glides down the stairs. “In much the same way that a birdhouse and manors are both homes where feathered beings might live, yes, I do suppose there was a headache involved, dear paladin.”

The image of Lizzie in a birdhouse strikes me, and refuses to leave save by a chuckle.

“But, um, we both did it!” Lena interjects, hovering close to my side. She’s smiling, just a bit. “I’m going to... um, I need more practice, though. But Dame Tousavon is ready!”

Ruby, lurking half-drowned in the largest chair in the lobby, finally peers up at us. Her brow furrows. “Good. We will depart soon.”

Verity flashes a smile, tracking Lizzie as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Great. The Detective and I made a good route and several backup plans... and Benny made snacks.”

She lifts a small bag, and Ruby lifts her own satchel a moment later. “They didn’t want you going out empty handed.”

“Benny is, after all, the best,” Lizzie intones, plucking the bag from Verity’s hand. “Do thank them for me. As much as I’d like tea before I go, this skirt is simply not made for chasing miscreants. Ivy, are my riding clothes—”

“Still in the coatroom. Benny washed them,” I cut in, pointing to the coatroom with one hand and my tail. “Hasn’t moved since you were last here, either.”

“Good, good.” Lizzie turns sharply, hurrying across the lobby and slipping into the coatroom.

The door closes with a click, and for an agonizing minute, nobody speaks. Only Ruby moves, methodically packing away the stacks of notes she’d occupied the surrounding tables with. Reality hangs heavy, dragging that silence as far as it can manage.

Dongbaek is out there, and he knows that we’re onto him. He might even suspect that we’ve figured out his little trick with the Delveways. Time runs short, as it ever does, and trapping us in a Delve had brought him an advantage we couldn’t afford.

I make my way to a large couch and sit down, wrapping my tail around one of the legs. Click click clack.

The silence stretches further.

I pour myself a cup of tea, then two more.

Verity inhales, then exhales, moving from against the wall to braced against the back of a chair. Her eyes seek mine, her lips curve into a soft smile; Lena shuffles to the far edge of the couch, and I measure my heartbeat against hers.

It’s an odd mix of feelings, one that swirls hot and cold in my gut.

"I am going to go now," Ruby declares, examining me with a furrowed brow and scrunched nose. A heartbeat passes, and she turns to face the door with the same expression. "We cannot delay further."

A snort rings from the coatroom, and Lizzie emerges in deep green riding trousers and a black blouse. She inclines her chin at me, swinging on a coat she’d been carrying over one shoulder. "I do believe that’s my call to the stage, hm? Take care, dears, and do try to stay out of any scuffles. We’ll send a courier— or I’ll come myself— if anything comes up before morning.”

The front doors swing open, letting in the pattering of rain and the scents of damp soil. Ruby pauses just long enough to put on her coat, and Lizzie turns one last time to add, “I hope we’ll catch Winston on our way out, but if we don’t, do let him know what we’re up to. Another able mage would be a boon.”

Just as the cold air of night curls around my feet, the doors swing closed.

A breath, a moment to settle, and then—

"Why?"

It's a word sifted free of Lena like a spare puzzle piece, tossed into the air and left to hang there. I snatch it when the moment stretches, turning it around in time with Lena's furrowing brow.

"Why what?" I query in reply, leaning forward to grab my cup of tea.

"I don't... I don't understand why he'd do this," Lena says finally, nose scrunched, ears flicking. Her hands flex, black nails shining in the light, and she settles herself down on the opposite end of the couch. "Opening Delves. Breaking wards, sneaking around, stalking people..." Her voice catches, then releases softly. "Hurt us. Hurting people."

I snort, flashing my eyes up as Verity wanders to the other couch. She nods curtly, lips curling, I nod back.

"Not a damned clue," I start, taking a careful sip of the tea. Fruity, subtly sweet, soothing to my aching body. "Said I'd understand like my parents, before I tried to rip his arm off."

"Tried?" Verity raises an eyebrow as she stalks over to a nearby couch, inspecting it like she's in the market to buy it. "I get the feeling that you could take me apart if you tried, and not in the fun way. Maybe also the fun way, actually. Ech, I’m tired."

She gives me a lazy wink, then tips facefirst into the couch with a noise I can only describe as a whumpf of feathers and exhausted groaning.

“Tried,” I drawl, lips curling against my will. Lena’s battling a giggle, herself. “Got taken out by the sound of a Delve opening. Wasn’t pleasant.”

“That’d do it,” Verity says into the couch cushions. Lena finally gives in, giggling into her hand. “Saying that you’d understand like your parents, though... huh. That’s not really an argument, is it? Just a really unhelpful promise.”

“But why?” Lena repeats, shaking her head. “I... that’s not what he was like. He— he’d always answer big questions where he could. We must understand so we can heal.” The last sentence rattles out of her, rote in intonation but not in feeling.

I pull my tail back, feeling the rhythm of the clicks as my scales brush along the wooden foot of the couch. I’d put thought to his motive, certainly; it’s the sort of wonder that catches me in the predawn hours, too tired to move and too awake to sleep. “More than that. He would’ve known how I’d react to mentioning my parents— I doubt Alain would’ve kept his mouth shut about his first meeting with me. Maybe he didn’t think it through, maybe he wanted me mad.”

And Gods, doesn’t that rankle. If he’d hoped I’d be predatory in my anger, he was right, and perhaps it cost me the hunt.

“Huh,” Verity hums, drumming her fingers along the side of the couch. “Maybe. He’s done— mmrgh, fine, I’ll get up.”

She rolls onto her side, black hair splayed like a puddle of ink across the couch. With a grunt, she curls herself up to sitting, swinging her hips and legs so she can face us properly. “Hopefully you’ve got a guest room ready, because I am not making it back into the city tonight without a nap,” she groans, one hand up to massage her temples. “But why is a really good question, Lena, and we probably should give it a go, shouldn’t we.”

She plucks her teacup from the tray, sparing a moment to smile at me. I incline my head in turn, then reach to offer Lena her own cup. The motion stops halfway, halted by the sight of her; she looks rather small, curled up against the side of the couch, but her eyes burn with that same fire that’d first caught my eye.

“More than worth it,” I agree, leaning back to sip at my own tea. Mm. A more herbal brew, this time, almost bereft of green tea and focused on the soothing-sweet mixtures that sap the aches from my bones.

Lena takes the tea with a murmured thank you, shuffling toward the center of the couch. “W-we should. I just don’t understand why he’d...”

She stops, taking a long and shuddering breath punctuated with a sip of tea. “It could help us stop him. Do you know where we could start, Verity?”

Verity’s eyes glitter. “More than that, actually! I was trained in this kind of thing before I could even become a paladin, and my mother hasn’t let up since.” A shadow crosses her expression, there and gone in a heartbeat. “To sum it up, we want basic facts, and a clear chain of logic out of them. Stop me if something I say is provably incorrect, alright?”

I feel the couch dip next to me, and Lena’s heartbeat grows a little bit louder. Is she trying to be subtle? Shaking my head free of the thought, I catch Verity’s gaze. “Got it. Lena?”

“Ah, yes!” Lena bobs her head, ears flopping at the sudden movement. “Oh, I wish it wasn’t about something so serious, this is going to be interesting...”

Verity’s smile, if such a thing is possible, grows brighter. “Well, I do strive to be interesting in everything I do.” She clears her throat, massages her neck, and takes a long draft of her tea. “Right! From the top, basic assumptions, and be aware I am about to talk a lot. Hopefully you enjoy my voice.”

"Fact one,” she starts, counting off on her fingers, “Bitgarm Dongbaek is, provably, working with a group of people to open Delves. Fact two: They acted to delay Ivy and me from interfering with their objective, per interviews with captives, and this action was considered important enough for Lena to be an acceptable casualty.”

She stops long enough to send a softer smile at Lena, one that holds even as Lena’s ears flatten against her skull.

“...sorry, Lena. Most managed to escape, though, despite Dame Tousavon’s pursuit. Fact three: People in purple robes were following us around today, and escaped pursuit by myself and Ivy. Fact four: Their behavior is consistent with escaping through Delveways, or something comparable. Does this all sound, well, correct?”

I can only hope she’s going somewhere with this. She’s starting to sound painfully like the scholars that I’d do my best to avoid at the Guild, the sort that’d argue semantics over empirical data or fuss over how things were named.

Lena frowns next to me, and I can hear the cogs whirring in her head. “W-well, the people Ruby interrogated said that they were, they were trying to slow us down, but I don’t think they considered me...”

She stops, swallowing. “An acceptable casualty.”

Verity’s face flashes into a warm smile. “And you aren’t. Nobody is, Lena, and I promise I didn’t mean to imply you were. You didn’t deserve to be hurt, even his followers agree, and the fact that the priest did it anyways? That tells us something. Maybe he’s impulsive? I don’t know.”

“Doubt that’s it,” I cut in, crossing my arms across my chest. When Verity gestures for me to continue, I shrug with an ease I don’t feel. “He baited me to where he was opening a Delve, slipped away, and then slipped away again this time. Trapping Lena was a mistake, but it wasn’t just an impulsive thing. Could be anger, I guess. Maybe fear.”

Humming, Verity bobs her head. She drums her fingers for a long, quiet minute, a quiet accompaniment to a song I couldn’t quite recognize. “Anger or fear... Well, that’s actually better than my original path for this. Good point.”

She takes a deep breath, one that stretches into a jaw-cracking yawn. “So, let’s then assume that Dongbaek believes he’s doing the right thing. Most people do, actually. And that, combined with the reactions to the Delve sealing incident... no, that doesn’t match up at all. So, we’ve been working under the assumption they want to destroy the wards, right?”

My eyes narrow as I catch her path of thought, even if I don’t quite see every curve. “That’s what Winston was working off. I thought so, too.”

“But we don’t know that,” Verity trills, raising a finger. “And my Goddess didn’t seem to think so, either. She’s very particular with her words, and the wards didn’t come up once.”

She pauses, and I try to follow that path further. Say he isn’t trying to destroy the wards, “What does he want, then? We’ve just gotten back to Lena’s question again. Why?”

“Well, ah, now it makes less sense, doesn’t it? Um...” Lena mumbles, and the couch dips next to me once more. I can feel the barest hints of warmth radiating from her body, now. She’s not as subtle as she thinks.

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense, no,” Verity agrees, shaking her head. She stops to yawn again, a yawn that passes to me and Lena in sequence. “I have about half a theory. Maybe that’s something we can work out tomorrow.”

“No!”

Lena’s voice flashes out of her, burning with that same fire I’d seen a handful of times before. With her chin up and her turquoise eyes flaring, it’s hard for me to look away. “N-no. I don’t think we should wait. If we run into, if we have to deal with his— with his hideout tomorrow, we should all know what we’re getting into. Knowing why could help.”

“Bah,” I grind out, taking a long sip of tea. The flavor rolls across my tongue, a spark of sweetness to pull at my thoughts. “We should sleep, but Lena’s right. Let’s hear it.”

Leaning back, Verity sips at her tea. Her eyes glint in the lamplight, and no matter how hard I look I can only catch glimpses of whatever thoughts lie beyond them. “...it’s really only half a theory, but I see the logic.”

She exhales slowly, licking her lips and taking another sip of her tea. “So. Powerful wards or enchantments typically need some sort of anchor point, right? Especially ones that cover large areas, like city wards.” Pausing, Verity’s eyes sweep over me and Lena. Right, the Manor has one as well, hidden under a trapdoor and several layers of protective enchantments. Only, if she’s mentioning that... “Well, the Empire liked to seize magical artifacts from the cities they conquered to use as anchor points. The older the better, something about how much mana they can hold, I think.”

The often-stifled academic in me stirs, carrying with it a whole set of equations about magical saturation. I bite it back, because Gods I don’t have the energy. “So he wants an artifact, then. Why the Delves?”

“I’m getting there.” Verity sighs, peering into her teacup. “And again, half a theory. Skipping a whole bunch of stuff, the Emperor would protect anchor points in heartland cities by sinking them into the abstract. And I can’t think of anything else down there that Dongbaek could be looking for.”

I can see Lena’s brow furrowing out of the corner of my eye. She hums, chewing at her lip before finally replying, “I... um. Well, we don’t know what it is, do we?” She looks at me, and I shrug. “So, I think that makes sense. And it’s half a theory because we don’t know why he wants it, and it doesn’t talk about, ah.”

She clears her throat. “The, um, thing we saw down there.”

Writhing smoke pouring through the gap, flinching away from Lena in flickers of purple light—

Snapping her fingers, Verity points at Lena. "Exactly. We just get another layer of why. There shouldn't be anything—"

For a heartbeat, the world sharpens around us, and I catch the faintest scent of warm summer days. Verity's voice dies in her throat, and her jaw snaps shut. I watch the muscles in her neck tense and twitch, count her heartbeats as they soar upward.

"Very well," she grits out, and takes a long, deep breath. "My Goddess has informed me that yes, there are things down there, and one of them may well have noticed."

Quiet reigns as Verity looks away, breathing even and heartbeat slowly descending. Part of me braces for a wash of fear or rage, the whorls of violent emotion in wake of a revelation.

They never come. My heart is too sore, too wrung-out after the lab to offer up much of anything, and Lena looks like she’s moments away from dozing off.

Too much of me is wrapped up in the oddity that is Verity when she’s being entirely honest with her feelings. Her frustration radiates from her body in waves, and I’m sorely tempted to reach out and comfort her.

Before I can pull myself to my feet, Verity takes a long, shuddering breath and the frustration vanishes. A smile dies half-formed on her lips, but a smirk remains. “Learning anything else would be bad for our health, apparently. Destroying the wards wouldn’t let it into the World, so it sounds like Bitgarm is just causing this as a side effect of being an idiot and fishing for an ancient magical artifact. Ech, that’s new levels of dumb.”

“Oh,” Lena murmurs. “That’s, um, not good.”

I snort. Verity makes a sound that might be a giggle, or might be a sign she’s choking on her tea. Possibly both. Lena definitely giggles, shuffling herself close enough that I can feel the heat of her body.

“Gods,” I groan, downing most of my remaining tea. “We’re all too tired for this, aren’t we. Least it all makes sense.”

“Unfortunately,” Verity agrees, massaging her forehead. “We’ll have to do some research once we’re not on a time crunch. Not on the horrors I would’ve liked to know exist years ago, but on what the anchor point for Craumont is. If that’s written anywhere, it might give us some insight or help us disprove my theory.”

“And you’ve, ah, never run into something like that, Ivy?” Lena says softly, peering up at me. “You don’t seem too bothered, but...”

I raise an eyebrow. “Never, and I think after the lab I’m too tired to worry about anything.”

She sets her cup down with a clink, and I lean forward to pour her a new one. Verity’s joins Lena’s, and suddenly I’m filling all three, given my own was nearly empty. I can’t help but sigh at Verity’s lopsided smirk, and the room relaxes once more.

The conversation wanders from the path, leaving behind our worries so they might be rediscovered tomorrow. It’s... pleasant, and even more pleasant once Lena burrows into my side, pushing her warmth against my own. I wrap an arm around her, holding her in a way I didn’t realize I’d wanted.

She stays there, too, her ears tickling at my chin.

Benny comes in a few minutes later and takes a long, quiet look at all of us. Their eyes linger on me and Lena just long enough to offer me a smile that soothes an ache I didn’t know I had.

“I believe, madams,” they drawl, one hand adjusting their short white hair, “That it is long past time you retire for the evening. Is there anything you might need me to relay to Lord Winston, or whatever runner he sends up to us?”

“Oh, Goddess,” Verity groans, slumping deeper into the couch. “Where do I even start?”

She speaks for all of us, I think—

And something tells me the days ahead are going to be far, far longer.