The Calamitous Bob

Storm Rider wasn’t the largest dragon, though she was certainly close, yet it was she who approached Viv near the remote peak where they had made their den. They lounged on platforms and terraces carved into the rock by the raw strength of their dominion over magic. What had been a simple pile of rocks was now a garden of carved statues, elegant promontories, and rare flowers. It was also a fragile one, as glassy expanses and claw marks attested. Dragons were not meant to gather and stay together for a long time and they didn’t do so unless absolutely necessary. As such, even Storm Rider was uneasy when she addressed Viv, her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tense. Oh, she had a brave appearance, but Viv could read dragons pretty well by now.

We will fly with you. And help you.

The black mana is so thick it will make us sick, should we try to approach.

We will form a Chorus.

“What’s a chorus?”

Storm Rider hissed, revealing teeth like serrated knives bent inward like the death traps they were. Arthur’s wings expanded ever so slightly.

There are things you wingless mortals are not meant to know.

Viv sustained the glare long enough to gather her will. The transition was not as seamless as it had been the first time, but she managed it.

[Aspect of the Paragon]

There were no stones. No colors. No flesh. There was only mana, and then, by an effort of will, reality superimposed itself back on pure energy.

“I am no mortal.”

Her anchors widened.

“And I am not wingless either.”

Arthur hissed in quiet protest. Gale did so as well, but his was an expression of aggressive support. Other dragons stirred. Viv was having none of it. She spoke directly into their minds.

You have come, called by Judgment.

You will work with me, as demanded by Judgment.

Or you can side with the dead.

And face his wrath.

The older dragons were cowed, though Viv suspected they were merely wise and capable of self-control. One of the younger ones still stood on its hind legs, so Viv turned to him and revealed her soul. Mostly, she revealed ‘Dragonslayer’.

And mine.

The dragon hesitated. Older dragons bristled with impatience, and so the young ones refrained from protesting, for now. Viv returned her attention to the older dragons.

I will need a boon from five of you.

I require your help in this regard.

However, I will offer compensation for this help.

In the form of a gift of precious food.

A few dragons raised their heads, vaguely interested. Arthur took the front for the negotiations.

Freshly caught sea creatures, rich in mana, and perfectly baked to delight a dragon’s taste buds.

An offering fit for you, oh mighty ones.

She was all smooth and polite, something Viv had never seen in her entire life. The noose was opened. It was Meadow who sealed the fate of yet another batch of ancient fire breathers.

Tasty tasty.

A large red dragon stood first.

I shall answer the call, for I am mighty!

I claim this offering.

Yet another hapless victim of capitalism and gastronomy, Viv thought. She reverted to her physical form, then realized she had to refrain from shaking her head in sadness. Arthur had grown to become a devious manipulator. What had Viv unleashed upon this world? She’d created a monster.

Right, so what is a Chorus?

Storm Rider watched Viv’s reaction as she explained, and something told Viv the old dragoness was actually dying to elaborate.

We will form a mighty hurricane of wings and fire, a ritual that will scorch the land beneath us.

At the apex of the ritual, Judgment himself shall arrive.

He shall breathe a purifying heat onto the pyramid, reducing it, and the dead city, to black glass.

The dragons had a ritual of mass destruction? The fuck?

Nothing will be left.

“Hey wait a moment. I’ll be inside!”

Then your fate shall be at the mercy of your own aptitudes.

As well as Judgment’s patience.

She smiled, or rather, she displayed her fangs.

Such as it is.

“Yeah yeah I got it. I’m supposed to hurry. Well, let’s get going then.”

***

Viv had no time to wait. The Harrakan capital might be empty of people and magic, but it held a veritable treasure trove of knowledge, culture, and wealth. Not to mention it was an actual city the Harrakans wouldn’t have to build.

Also, it was a symbol.

Finally, she felt like it would be a major cop out not to confront the person responsible for the undead invasion. Their strange, detached way of communicating hinted at a secret she wanted to uncover, and an interest for Harrak that might lead to a peaceful outcome. There was also the ritual itself… Really, unless the thing hiding under the capital was stronger than an avatar, it was in her best interest to face it.

Viv bid goodbye to all the mortals she would leave behind. There was something insanely cool about flying towards a flight of dragons under the utterly speechless crowd of diplomats and foreign soldiers. Here they were planning campaigns and here she was bringing back the age of legends with mythical creatures, spells, and all that entailed. The Baranese ambassador looked like he’d swallowed a shipment of pepper-infused lemons. They were starting to sniff around her for weakness. She hoped the report would scare the ever-loving shit out of those idiots so they wouldn’t try anything while she was gone.

“Alright, let’s fly!’

Arthur made a point to carry her on her back. Viv thought the dragoness might be too embarrassed, but the condemnation from other dragons had the reverse effect: she thought they were stupid and now stood against them all in defiance. It was probably a teenager thing. Viv was just happy to fly together, to be honest.

Arthur was one of the last ones, joining the tail of the flight. The climb to the clouds was slow and steady, then it was a short sightless journey through black-saturated vapors, and then, the glorious sun.

It was cold up here, with rarefied air, but Viv’s body could take it. Despite the situation, a smile bloomed on her lips. Dragons, dozens of them, flew over an endless field of cotton-like clouds under the golden rays of dawn. A moment worthy of inclusion in an epic or a saga and Viv was among them, not truly a part of them but that was ok. Gray mana pushed those mighty entities forward as fast as planes. The roar of the wind that plastered her hair back gave her a sense of weightlessness like she was at the top of the world and nothing could stop her.

Life on Nyil could suck ass, but sometimes, it could rock like hell too.

Mother.

Grow your own wings!

Then you can join.

“I’ll see what I can do. Promise.”

For a few hours, Viv just forgot about her predicament to enjoy the moment.

***

Like most good things, the flight ended far too soon. The dragon flight dipped under the cloud cover; The black mana saturation had begun to increase even before they’d made their descent. Viv breathed in the old, familiar spice. her body drank deep of that power, even as the dragons formed a circle over the old capital.

Viv watched it, extending far below like the impossible feature of perfect geometry it was. The city had been designed to be completely flat by brown mana specialists. Its streets met at precise angles. From above, everything more resembled a circuit board rather than an actual city as everything was too square, too brutal, yet also grandiose and ambitious. It was a monument to humanity’s triumph over nature while Sinur’s Gate was a marriage, a harmony of melded rocks and climbing vines. It was also here that she’d landed, found Solfis, and almost died.

Above, the cloud cover started to break as the black mana was pushed back by the dragons’ collective efforts. The light of the sun hit the ziggurat head on for the first time in centuries. It showed the devastation in gruesome detail. It also showed the white shapes of necrarchs scrambling for cover like so many grubs escaping from an upturned corpse. The disgusting creatures disappeared in the cracks of large buildings. Quite a few had gone inside of the devastated palace. That might be an issue… at the same time. Viv had the preeminent necrarch exterminator with her.

“Let’s go.”

The temperature rose as Arthur descended. Orange motes appeared around Viv, evanescent things for now but she knew what it meant. It felt like standing in front of a reactor as it fired up. A shiver crawled up her spine.

It didn’t last though. A few seconds later and temperatures dropped, and dropped, until even her breath fogged in the air. Arthur shook.

Mother.

The black mana is too strong!

I must drop you here!

“That’s fine. Meadow, you can drop Solfis as well. We’ll go first.”

//Dropping now.

The dragons let go. Viv did her best to follow Solfis as the large golem just plummeted down. It was getting colder, and the concentration was now reaching levels that would have killed her in under a minute if she had just appeared from earth now. Black wisps danced through the air on the way down, physical manifestations of the miasma. It was as if Dead Harrak had been sleeping, and now it was awake. Awake, and watching.

Solfis landed with a loud thud, through the roof of a small building adjacent to the massive ziggurat. Viv drifted to the opening. Solfis was standing next to the beheaded corpse of a necrarch in the middle of a ravaged room that might have been a refectory at some point.

“A nice addition to your collection,” she said, pointing at the head.

Her voice came through distorted. It was so cold now that the rare droplets of water clinging to her robe after her passage to the cloud now formed ice crystals clinging to its dark shape like spiderwebs.

//I will have to discard it, your Grace.

//The mana concentration is reaching charging station levels.

//I can keep fueled by sheer osmosis, with your authorization.

“You have it.”

They turned to the exit. It was completely dark and cold now due to the concentration increasing yet again. Whatever golden radiance had caressed the capital was gone now, filtered by an incomprehensible power. Leaving the structure, Viv now faced one of the two sheer sides of the pyramid — one that was not designed for easy access. She looked up to see the blue opening in the cloud cover and the dragons, but they were a distant dream dulled by immobility and despair. This was the enemy’s black mana, and right now, Viv wasn’t sure she could contest it. The dead capital was the heart of a true calamity, one that had destroyed an empire and remained unchanged for centuries after.

//This is one of the lesser establishments around the Treasury.

//Civil servants and petitioners would come here to eat or drown their sorrows.

//I have never been here before.

Solfis resolutely turned towards the main steps of the ziggurat, to her left. They walked in the muted silence of the grave. Black mana infused Viv’s very bones, and she let it, feeling her human body change through mere pressure. It was making her stronger. In a way, this would be the perfect spot for her if she were even more detached from mankind as the Azure Lady. Viv shook her head. It was too quiet. The enemy had to know she was here. It was hard to miss an army of dragons or a battle golem landing next to one’s lair, and yet there were no reactions. It made her worry. If her foe had tried to swarm her with necrarchs then she would have known what to do (mostly just getting out of the way). Now though, the dead city was open to her. There was going to be a trap, or a test. The question was: would success even be possible?

Viv wasn’t so sure, though she hoped it would be. She knew too little about who she was even opposing. As the pair finally reached the edge of ziggurat, she knew for sure they were expected.

Two lines of necrarchs waited on either side of the monumental staircase, their crimson eyes focused on Viv with rabid intensity, yet none of them moved. They were like statues of pure rage frozen in place by an impossible will, all of them acting as an honor guard to the depths of the ziggurat. Three stood over a secondary entrance, slightly to the side.

“Looks like we’re being invited.”

//I am only able to resist attacking them because your protection takes precedence.

//Your Majesty.

//I advise following the dragon’s plan, after all.

“No. This is Harrakan business. They’ll get to glass the land only if I fail.”

//Well said.

//And if it comes to it.

//I’ll cover one side.

They moved in.

***

The trip down was short. Viv had been here before. Endless corridors of thick stones devoid of any doors or furniture, or indeed any enchantments, were no obstacles to her. When a heavy stone blocked their way, Solfis merely pushed it aside. The mana thickened an absurd degree as they approached the lower ritual chamber, where the spell that had killed Harrak had been unleashed. Viv knew the enemy could only be there.

They reached it, finding lights inside. Spells.

They were expected.

//Ready?

“Ready.”

They went in.

Viv had to stop at the entrance, because in front of her was the cause of the disaster. Nausea took over her until she had to swallow her saliva or risk retching. The room was large, and the enemy was the room.

All of it.

From top to bottom, and from wall to wall, a pale curtain of flesh extended like a cocoon arrayed with the growths of organs, like dozens of necrarchs stretched and hung in a ghastly tapestry. At the center of it all was a woman, a perfectly conserved, perfectly human woman emerging from it like a ship prow statue. She was pale and white of hair, her clothes the aristocratic garb of a Harrakan sorceress. Or at least, that was what Viv perceived at first, but it wasn’t true. It was flesh. It was all flesh. The view would have been enough to steal the breath of most people yet Viv had faced avatars and lived. The deep sense of disgust and horror grabbing her soul now didn’t come from just an appearance. A deep cloak of repulsion garbed the woman like a corona. She was horrifying on a fundamental level, and a brief inspection revealed why.

[Semeryss, Harrakan Arcane Advisor. Fifth step Harrakan archmage. CURSED].

The woman was still human. She was still considered as such by the interface. Viv had seen curses before, but this wasn’t it.

The world hated her. The world hated this woman.

It took a lot to be cursed by the slumbering consciousness of an entire planet, yet she had managed it. She was cursed, her entire existence condemned to… to this. And it wasn’t done by even a god. It was done by the reality in which they lived. The world hated Semeryss, and it was absolutely revolting, but the most revolting thing of all was that she was conscious, and as far as Viv could tell from the calm demeanor, sane.

Semeryss had been a necrarch wallpaper for three hundred years, and she was still sane, her mind still human. It was impossible. Viv refused to believe it. And then, her gaze traveled left to a receptacle at the edge of the room. Cables of silverite and arcs of reinforced steel held the master prize, the result of the ritual.

It was a sphere two meters in diameter shining with every hue of magic. It burnt like a sun in her mana sight. The power stored there had cost the life of an empire — millions of human lives, trillions of insects, plants, animals, and monsters. A harvest that awakened Nyil.

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[The Master Core: unimaginable, self-replenishing power… if you can harness it]

The mana equivalent of a nuclear reactor.