So now I understand why I was warned about these people. They suck. It takes us over an hour to rise all the way up to the island, moving at a nice, controlled pace, and the Magpei swoop around yelling at us the entire time.
When one of them got tired and flew back up, another one would just come down! They were determined to ensure we were subject to a constant strain of threats, insults, and repeated dares to 'come up 'ere!'. How these people managed to survive at all is a miracle!
Do the ka'armodo put up with this level of nonsense? The golgari? The LEGION? Although, they aren't monsters, far from it, they were here before the Rending took place, before there was mana on the surface. So I suppose the Legion doesn't care about them one way or the other.
We arrive on the island itself, to be greeted by more of the preening Magpei, while others continue to fly overhead haranguing us.
Eran steps forward to speak for us, and again, the brathian Dungeon Seer continues to provide a running translation. Though I wish they wouldn't.
[As agreed in our discussions some weeks ago, we are here as part of our trade mission to the mightiest and most flourishing trade hubs of the stratum,] Eran declares.
I know for a fact we're pretty much only here because it's on the way to the Silver city. Nevertheless, I understand the urge to butter these people up. The Magpei seem difficult to get along with, to say the least.
The representative of the Wandering Isle leadership who came to greet us seems to be fairly typical of her people, from what I've seen so far. They don't wear a lot of clothing, covering the essentials, basically, and she seems annoyed to be here, looking down on all of us.
[We 'welcome' you to OUR isle,] she says, sarcastically, glaring. [I hope you can get your business done and get the HECK out of here, quick!]
For some reason, she turns to glare at me.
[You think you're all that? EYYY? All big 'n stuff? You aren't tough!]
What the heck?!
[Anthony is here as a representative of his people, who have brought many wonderful and shiny things for you to purchase,] Eran attempts to soothe her.
Only one word seems to catch her attention.
[Shiny?!]
Her head snaps around and her eyes narrow.
[How shiny are we talkin'? If you're pullin' me leg, I'm gonna punch ya right in the nose!]
There's a chorus of 'EYYYY' 'EYYYYY!' from the other Magpei. I turn to the mage translating for me.
[Is it really necessary to give me all the background insults?]
[If I have to listen to it, then so do you,] she replies placidly.
Yeesh.
Chests puffed out and strutting around us, the Magpei lead us toward the nearest settlement, a border town called Mackaw, which is where imports and exports are handled, apparently. Every now and again, a new Magpei flies overhead, challenging us all to a fight and then asking who we are and what we're doing here. Eventually, our guides tell them we are here to trade and are on our way to Mackas.
When we arrive outside the town, we are greeted by the head of the local trading guild, who is, mercifully, a human. He bows low and respectfully toward Eran as she draws near, greeting her with a wide smile, which she returns.
[Lowyn, it's lovely to see you again.]
[You are too kind, Eran. How is your esteemed husband, the great Satrap Umizan?]
[He is well, thank you for asking.]
[And is that little Piris I see? Such grace and beauty. Clearly, she takes after her mother.]
The little girl giggles and smiles.
[Whattarya laughin' at, EY?] a nearby Magpei squawks. [EYY? Ya little MIDGET?]
Thankfully, nobody pays him any mind and he slowly de-puffs before being distracted by something else.
After the pleasantries are exchanged, Eran gets down to business working out the trade arrangements, when and where the Colony will set up their temporary market and for how long. When it's all said and done, I sneak a mind bridge over to the unbelievably polite man, Lowyn, who greeted us, just to ask a few questions.
[Hey, it's me, the giant ant in front of you, nice to meet you.]
His eyes widen slightly as he turns toward me.
[Nice to meet you too,] he says, warmly. [I hope you and your people have a pleasant stay here on the Wandering Isle.]
[That's what I wanted to ask you. How the heck do you live here?]
Lowyn smiles gently.
[I assume you are referring to the Magpei?]
[No, I was talking about the weather. Yes, the Magpei!]
[They aren't so bad when you get used to them,] he assures me. [Though it does help to cultivate a certain, placid, frame of mind.]
Two Mapgie crash to the ground between the two of us, tangled around each other as they engage in a furious fist fight. Lowyn doesn't even blink.
[Your stay among us will be regrettably short, but I will lead you to the area designated for your people to rest. I hope you will find it accommodating.]
This man is a saint.
We are led to an open clearing where the temporary market will be established, and begin to settle in. For my part, that means more flopping into the dirt and letting everyone else be busy around me. Brathian tents start going up and the newly arrived ants begin putting together their stalls and displays.
[We're finally here at Mackas, is there anything good to eat?] Piris complains.
[Not really,] Marzban tells her. [It's not easy for them to grow crops up here on the island. There just isn't enough land.]
[What do they usually eat?] I ask, curious.
[Fish,] he tells me. [The Magpei are excellent fishermen and women, able to fly down, catch a surprising amount of them, then fly back up. Their endurance in the air is truly remarkable.]
Huh. Nice to know they have some good points.
[Are there many Magpei settlements on the surface?] I ask. [They've been here from the beginning, so there must be, right?]
[There are,] Eran tells me, [though usually in areas others don't want to live, high up in the mountains, for example. And that's not just because other people don't like them, they don't like other people either. It works out best for everyone. In terms of the Dungeon, there are a few large settlements in the third, but the bulk of them live in the fourth, on this island, a few other floating isles, and in settlements high above, closer to the roof above us.]
That's high.
[Considering how they feel about outsiders, I'm surprised they even let us in to trade. What sorts of things do they like?]
Eran smiles.
[They are surprisingly curious as a people and will look at just about anything. They love decorative items, not for themselves, but for their homes. Food is popular, for obvious reasons, as there is much they can't make for themselves. I expect your ant-crafted fabrics will do extremely well.]
[Why? They don't appear to wear much.]
[For their nests.]
-x-X-x-
There aren't many scholars who take the time to learn about the unique culture and properties of the Magpei people, leading them to dramatically underestimate their strengths. It is a source of eternal frustration to me, as a Magpei studies professor, that my colleagues seem to think the only trait of these interesting and enduring people they need to understand is that they are 'aggressive'.
Yes, they are aggressive, yes, they famously lack what some would consider 'social graces', but that is merely the surface. As a people, the Magpei are fiercely loyal, protective of their families and forgiving, under the right circumstances.
Due to their irascible nature, they are among the finest pugilists in the world, fighting almost exclusively with their fists. I've seen them shatter the skulls of tier five fish monsters in a single blow, even through metres of water.
If one is able to win their trust and friendship, the Magpei are a wonderful people, full of laughter, comradery and joy.
However it is still necessary to fight with them.
-Excerpt from 'The People of Light' by Propentia.
-x-X-x-
[OI! This is a good cuppa right 'ere!]
[Aw yeah? Lemme have a taste!]
[Get your own!]
[Like that, is it? EYY? Come up here and say that!]
[Maybe I will, then!]
Aaaaaand they're gone. Another pair fly up to engage in what I'm coming to understand is more like a fun pastime for the Magpei rather than a serious fight. They just seem to love smashing the heck out of each other, and for whatever reason, they don't seem to get hurt much. Perhaps they're just much tougher than they look?
After watching the market unfold and listening to these people interact, I've come to understand exactly what is going on here. I was confused at first, because they don't have fur, waste energy speaking and are less prone to thumbs ups, but the Magpei are basically all just shiny, feather-winged versions of Tiny.
Would the dumb ape lay fists into everyone and everything he could if I let him? Absolutely! It's not like he's malicious, he just enjoys it, and he assumes everyone else does as well. I get the feeling the bad attitudes and rudeness displayed by the Magpei are due to them wanting to skip as much of the unnecessary stuff as quickly as possible and get to the punching.
[Someone put the billy on! This tea is choice!]
[Yeah? Better than my tea?]
[Of course it is, you melter!]
[EYYYY?]
[EYYYY!?]
Aaaaaand they're gone. They really seem to like the tea. That's not the only thing which has grabbed their attention. As before with the ka'armodo, the small amount of jewellery and other shiny nicknacks are popular with the winged ones, causing many a brawl.
What I find truly interesting are the other inhabitants of the Wandering Isle. Humans, golgari, folk, even a ka'armodo with setsulah attendants, everyone seems welcome here. The other thing to note is that, one and all, they appear to have extraordinary levels of patience.
They just seem to step around whenever brawling birdbrains fall out of the sky, or smile and nod politely whenever someone tries to pick a fight with them. It almost seems magical. I wish I could exhibit that level of tolerance, because, for whatever reason, a group of Magpei have decided that they'll get a rise out of me no matter what.
[Big bug sittin' there lookin' all sad on the ground. Got no wings, EY?]
[C'mon, MATE. Come up here and look at me like that through ya flamin' multi-focal lenses!]
And so on. And so on. No matter how long I sit here, unresponsive, in the centre of this impromptu market, they just don't seem to run out of gas. Or insults.
Finally, I can't take it anymore. The honour of the Colony is being impugned here. It's not that I'm sick of these winged loudmouths slinging mug at me, it's that proper respect isn't being shown to my ant brethren. It's time to show these birds who's the real boss of the air.
But how? I have two main methods of approach here. I could use a gravity well to drag them all down to the ground, or use one to lift me up into the air, challenging them in their own space.
Or why not both?
Gweheheheh.
With an evil chuckle, I begin to draw out gravity mana from my gland, weaving it deftly and carefully, masking my work as much as possible. They won't know what hit them.
[Are you doing something, Anthony?]
Dammit! It's the brathian mage, the Dungeon Seer Olivis! She's watching me like a hawk at the moment!
[Me? Of course not! Why would you suspect something like that?]
[Because I thought I felt a stirring of mana. You aren't going to do something to the Magpei, are you?]
[Why would you ever suspect me of yes, yes I was. I'm getting really annoyed and was going to punish them for their hubris.]
[I'm not even passing on their insults any more.]
[They found one of their own mages to make sure I got the message.]
[Damn them,] she sighs, then gives me a firm poke in the side. [Remember what just happened at Greystone? We don't want a repeat incident, do we? You need to keep your fancy mana to yourself and just let this event end peacefully.]
"I agree, Eldest," a whisper of pheromones from Protectant brushes against my antennae. "We would appreciate it if you didn't put an even larger target on your back."
But but! Fine.
Reluctantly, I let the mana go, and Olivis nods, pleased.
[Thank you for your cooperation. I know it can be difficult here, but a little patience is all]
[You fishy brathians only ever think about money. Too scared to get involved in a REAL fight? EY?!]
[that's required.]
[OI! Mage down there. Too WEAK to fight, are ya? Too yellow are ya? You MELT!]
[I hear your Satrap is as fat as a sea cow! Fatter! Ya mongrel!]
[Oi! OIIIIII! You hear us down there? Ears blocked with scales?]
Olivis' eyes begin to narrow and I quietly begin to shape my gravity mana again.
-x-X-x-
Gweheheheheh. GWEHEHEHEHEHEHEH.
MUAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
[OI! Think you can pin us to the ground?! Let me up and I'll knock the snot out of ya!]
[That's not flying! That's floating at best! Eyyy? EYYYY!?!?]
[When I get off the ground, I'm gonna shirtfront ya! Even if you can't wear a shirt!]
Yes. Yesssss. Grovel before me! You insignificant pigeons! Who's laughing now? Who is soaring majestically through the air now?! It's me. I'm doing that.
The gravity well pulses with power, holding my bulk aloft while pressing the annoying, irritating Magpei down into the ground where I can mock them at my leisure.
[Still chirping are you, little birdie?] I gloat, reaching down with one leg to poke a particularly persistent specimen on the cheek. [Shouldn't you be trying to work out how to get off the ground rather than let your mouth write cheques your fists can't cash?]
[I'll show you a cheque, mate! I'll knock your castle down! I'm nobody's pawn!]
[Well come along then! I'm waiting!]
I hover above as the Magpei makes a valiant effort to rise, managing to force himself up onto his hands and knees before I up the power and squash him down again.
[Oh, so close! Gweheheheheh. I'll leave you there for a while and come back later to check on your progress.]
It fills me with such glee to see them struggling to get off the ground. How many times have they insulted my proud insect form for lacking wings since I arrived? FOUR-HUNDRED AND THIRTY SIX! Do they even know what they're talking to? I'm an ant! A descendant of the wasp! You really think there aren't any flying ants?!
But I'm something different, something new. I don't even NEED them! I wiggle my antennae with glee as I float in glorious circles above the market.
Interestingly, the non-Magpei clientele continue about their shopping, speaking with the brathian merchants, asking questions of the ant carvers and generally enjoying themselves. I get the strong impression that visitors getting into strenuous disagreements with the birdbrains isn't that rare an event. These people have probably learned to tolerate it just as they have every other eccentricity of the feathered fiends they share the island with.
Well, I myself have certainly not reached such a point of zen, so I continue to vent my frustrations upon the writhing, cursing Mapgei.
[You were so proud of your wings a minute ago! Come on, use them! Fly! You can fly, can't you? I thought you were great at flying. Wasn't being on the ground let me think about how you put it 'the place where dung creatures wallow'? That's what you said, isn't it? Are you a dung creature? Enjoying your wallowing? You seem to be, from all the energetic wriggling you're doing.]
Yes, get angry! This is my vengeance! This is my WRATH!
[Are you done up there?] Eran Thouris asks me.
[MUAHAHAHAHAHA! No! I'm only getting started! When tears of frustration are rolling down their faces, when they cry out to their mothers and beg forgiveness, maybe I'll let them up!]
[Is he often like this?] she asks, including another in the mind bridge.
[It does happen on occasion,] Cobalt admits. [It's quite rare, but it does happen. Eldest! You're disrupting the market! We need to trade with these people. That's the whole reason we came here.]
[The only things they've been trading with us are insults! I'm only giving back to them what they so graciously gave us!]
One Magpei has almost managed to stand, better put a stop to that. Back to the ground with you!
[Unless you plan to stay here and hold them down forever, you're going to have to let them go at some point. And if you keep doing it, more of them will come.]
[More of them will kiss the mud!]
[Do you really want to try and hold down ten thousand of them? Think of the noise in your head, if nothing else.]
That's true. Even though I've pinned these insult-swinging flappers into the dirt, they haven't let up. Understandably, their insult-swinging has only become more vigorous. The main difference is that I can freely throw their words back in their faces, laughing with great glee all the way.
It's worth it! I haven't come out in so long! I'm not going back yet!
[Just give me a few minutes! I'll have had my fill by then.]
[Looks like you get to fly again in a few minutes, you rats! Enjoy your last moments grinding your faces into the mud, and then you can fly, knowing you only get to fly because I LET YOU! MUAHAHAHAHAHAAA!]
[I'll let you taste my fist, MATE!]
[Big talk from an insect! EY? EYYYY?!]
[You can't even make a fist! I'll give you a fair dinkum face punching for this!]
[OI! OIIII! You're gonna regret this, cobba! You'll be crying out of every lens by the time I'm done!]
[Ohhhhh is that right! If you're all that, then come up here and show me right now! Come on! Come oooooon! What's the matter? I'm waiting!]
[Let me up already! You mug! Not even your mother could love that face!]
[HEY! My mother is very proud of me!]
[OOOOOO, we got a mum's boy here!]
[If you ever want to fly again, you better not talk about my mother.]
.
[Fine. We respect mums.]
[Agreed. Mums are off-limits.]
[How do we feel about dads?]
Well, that's easy enough for me.
[Don't have one, I'm a monster. I was born from the Queen, no need for a dad.]
[Huh.]
[Makes sense.]
[No dad, ey?]
[To be expected, I suppose.]
[Are we allowed up now?]
[Fine.]
I don't release the gravity well, but I undo the pressure it exerts on them. I remain floating in the sky as the fluffy fools flap their powerful wings and return to the sky around me.]
[Ohhh hohohoho. Time to put up or shutup, MATE.]
[Hope you're ready for a major beatdown there, CHAMP.]
[Time to pray to a mantis, or whatever counts as a god for bugs, COBBA.]
From four directions, four Magpei fly in with dazzling speed, their fists blazing with powerful light as they prepare to unleash their fearsome skills. Naturally, the well catches them as they draw too close, sending them tumbling back to the ground.
[I let you go, but I didn't turn it off. THINK YOU CAN HIT ME?! NOT IN A MILLION YEARS! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!]
The dark one will not sleep just yet.
-x-X-x-
[We hate you!]
[Don't come back!]
[You're hurting my feelings! Why don't you fly over here next to me and say that!]
[Get stuffed!]
[In your dreams, mate!]
[Turn off your lousy magic and THEN talk smack, ey? EYYYY?!]
[Why don't you come over here and make me? Huh? Need me to go easy on you? Too weak for the real stuff?]
[Get off our island!]
[Yeah! You bleedin' cheat!]
[Bah! All of you can bite my carapace! Your mums are all classy ladies, but you're rubbish!]
To a chorus of mentally projected howls and insults, I float down and away from the Wandering Isle. Some of the Magpei follow, unwilling to let us go without getting the last word in. I take note of how they keep their distance from me, though, unwilling to be caught up in the gravity well.
Gweheheheh.
It's taken a lot of mana to maintain it for this long, but it's been worth it. Looking at the suffering expressions of their faces every time they try to fly up and punch me has been a joy, bringing light to my dark, dark heart.
[Are you still going with them?] the mage, Olivis asks me.
[Of course! As long as they're willing to serve it up, they're going to get it back.]
[There will never come a time they are unwilling to serve it up. They're the Magpei. They've been doing this for thousands and thousands of years.]
Which is why they're so good at being annoying, I suppose. If there's a Skill for irritating strangers, they must have it all the way to rank ten.
[I don't see anything wrong with matching their energy. They want to be discourteous, rude and confrontational? Fine! I will do the same to them.]
[You don't find it childish?]
[No?]
She looks at me.
I look back at her. And in many other directions.
[How old are you, again?]
[Not that old, why do you ask?]
[No reason.]
If I were to add up my time as a human and my time as an ant I guess my age would be what? Sixteen-ish? Less? Honestly, it's hard to remember how old I was when I died, and it's difficult to keep track of time as an ant. It's not like we hang calendars all over the place, or carry pocketwatches.
Although, I'm told that some ants have taken an interest in the clockmaking arts. So it probably won't be long until we do carry them around?
As we slowly descend, everyone else on the force platform, me lowering myself gracefully with my gravity well, I get a good look at the Legion fleet. Interestingly, they didn't seem to bother us all that much while we dealt with the Wandering Isle. From what I know, only a few of them came up, not Morrelia, sadly, and other than observing, they pretty much left us alone.
Now, as we descend, I wonder if they intend to take pot shots at us, like they did when I was falling, but no. The massed fleet of hulking, armoured warships just sits, idly, with many a soldier and officer watching us. Watching me.
It's creepy! Go look at something else! If they were admiring my glorious carapace, that would be one thing, but this is just them staring at me like a starving person staring at a ham! It's uncomfortable, to say the least.
Once we arrive back down on the ship, I lower myself into position, flopping on the deck once more. Mapgei are STILL floating overhead, flinging insults at me, but I think I've had my fun. With a flicker of concentration, I allow my focus to lapse and the well to dissipate, the mana spreading out and losing its properties as it blends with the energy around it.
In that moment, I feel the dark nature of the forbidden one begin to recede, like oil on an ocean falling back from a pristine beach. Ah. I have returned to myself again.
Which is the exact moment that Odin chooses to pounce.
[When are you going to learn that there are other ants protecting me at all times?]
Pinned to the ground by three of my babysitters, Odin only groans, thrashing weakly with his claws.
[I didn't sense their presence at all!] he complains.
[Of course not! They've specifically evolved and mutated to make sure you can't!]
[Gah! Let me up!]
[How about no? Sit there and think about how not to be weird. When we get back to see Sarah again, I want to see a marked decrease in your odd behaviour.]
Ignoring the still bitterly struggling demon, I turn to Eran Thouris. I suppose I should give a little thought to the actual purpose of our travel.
[So, how was trade?]
[Profitable,] she says contentedly. [There aren't that many people on the Wandering Isle, but due to its nature, it does an outsized amount of trade. They were quite interested in your foodstuffs, and we've arranged some contracts with several distributors. Tea was popular, as was the furniture, oddly enough. They don't have ready access to wood, so they have to trade for it, and the prices of the Colony outcompete what they get from elsewhere.]
Well, that's good news, I suppose.
[At least we didn't have to put up with the Magpei's pecking for nothing.]
She gives me an exasperated look.
[What do you mean, we put up with it? I put up with it. My traders, put up with it. Every other member of the Colony put up with it. You certainly didn't!]
Ugh. How to explain the presence of Dark Anthony? How to explain that he was drawn irrevocably to the surface by the taunting of the winged weirdos?
[I'll try harder next time,] I begrudgingly commit.
[See that you do,] she nods.
I mean I'll try, sure. I won't succeed, but I'll try.
[And now we only have one stop left.]
[That's right,] she agrees, [we are headed to the Silver City. Capital of the Atreum Empire, and the largest, wealthiest city in the fourth stratum. Which means the largest and wealthiest in the world.]
She says that last part as if explaining the obvious to a child, which I find a little insulting.
[Look, it might be the wealthiest, but it won't be long until the most populous places in the stratum are the Colony's nests.]
Eran looks thoughtful.
[That's true, I suppose. However, each individual ant has literally no purchasing power, as I understand it, so it won't be worth setting up markets there.]
Gah. She's not wrong, we don't even have currency. I still can't work out if this is a good or bad thing.
[So what's this Silver City supposed to be like?]
[It's the most beautiful city in the world.]
[Is that right?]
She nods emphatically.
[It is. You'll understand when you see it.]
-x-X-x-
I suppose to some, it might be considered appealing sort of. Others, perhaps some would say, those with better taste would call it tacky! Overdone! Gaudy, even!
Then again no, no, I will not admit it! There's no tunnels! How can any place be considered the best without nice, wide tunnels? It can't, end of discussion. The roads do seem nice and spacious, though.
Bah! Who would ever want to dwell in a house covered in metal? Nobody! Even if that metal was so soothing, and emitting such a glorious, ephemeral light.
DAMMIT!
I connect a mind bridge to Eran Thouris who is leaning against the railing next to me, looking smug.
[Well?] she asks.
[It's nice.]
[Nice?] she asks, raising one scaled brow.
[Very nice.]
That's all she's gonna get out of me.
Mount Atreum, heart of the Atreum empire that bears its name, rises tall and imposing from the shimmering waters of the Lake before us. From the waterline up, the great and glorious Silver City covers the slopes. And I do mean covers. There isn't a single square inch that hasn't been developed, all enfolded within six rings of mighty walls. That's not to say there aren't any green spaces, oh no, there are frustratingly luscious and attractive-looking parks all over the damn place! The rest of it is large, well organised buildings connected by clean, wide streets. All of it, ALL of it (not the trees, obviously) is covered in what I'm told is Soul Silver.
And it is absolutely stunning.
Stupid city with its stupid shininess. Thinks it's all that! Well, it's not!
[Oh look. I think the clouds are going to part. We should get a good look at it now,] Eran says, enthused.
[Good look at what?] I grumble.
[They don't call them the Twin Cities for nothing. There! Look!]
The upper reaches of the mountain have been shrouded by cloud and mist, but, for a moment, I catch a glimpse of something golden breaking through, a beam of light that stabs me right in the eye. Then, like magic, the clouds part, the mist fades, and I slump to the floor, defeated.
There's a whole other city up the top? And it's covered in GOLD?! Not just any gold, but gold that seems to radiate the warmth of the summer sun?!
Who would even do that?! That metal must be worth a damned fortune, and you decided to coat your damned outhouse in it? Make it make sense!
Regal palaces, imposing castles, a tower that rises like a mighty tree to pierce the heavens, easily several kilometres high. Each is a work of art, as if someone let Michaelangelant off the chain for a thousand years. Beautiful in design, delicate in construction, each line is aesthetically pleasing in context with those around it. Whoever made this city was determined to make it so damn pretty that nothing would ever come close, and they didn't give a damn what it cost.
[The Golden City,] Eran tells me. [Not that we are going to be welcome up there. That's for citizens only. Wealthy citizens at that. You're looking at the most expensive real estate in the world.]
[If I built a hut in the sixth, wouldn't that be worth more? Since it'd be more rare?]
[Who could go there to enjoy it? In terms of comfortable living, this is the place to be. I'll take my life under the waters any day of the week, but it's not like I don't understand the appeal,] she sighs. [We brathians love to collect and display our wealth, but building something this expensive would give us a fit.]
[The Colony would never do it either,] I admit. [Spending such an absurd amount of resources just to make things look nice? Impossible. It's too inefficient and doesn't provide any material benefit to the family.]
[As you can imagine, the ka'armodo love this place, but for the most part, it's filled with the people of Atreum. Humans, by and large.]
Huh, finally, we find the place where all the humans are. No giant magic lizard-wizards, no second-skin rock people, just humans. I mean, humans are scary enough by themselves, but at least I understand them a little better.
We sail towards the Silver City, which only grows more beautiful the closer we get, stupid city, with the Legion continuing to shadow us on the way. The outer wall looms large as we draw closer, and I mean, really large. These people clearly don't muck around when it comes to walls.
And naturally, they have imprinted unspeakably, eye-meltingly attractive artworks into the wall. Because of course they did. If Michaelangelant is in this fleet, she is frothing at the mouth right now.
[Do we expect much trouble here?] I ask, a little reluctantly.
[Not unless your people have been waging a secret war against the Atreum that I haven't heard about,] she replies.
[If we have, it's just as much a surprise to me as it is to you.]
[We should be fine. The Atreum can be a little bureaucratic, but they are a well-run and organised sort of place. We have all our documents sorted well in advance. We're the kind of merchants who are especially welcome here.]
Such optimistic words, of course, doom us before we even arrive.
After Eran and the high-ranking brathians go ashore to finalise arrangements, we quickly find out things have gone awry.
[They want further guarantees of safety after what happened at Greystone,] Olivis tells me, after communicating with the shore party.
[Like what sort of guarantees? They want me to grind the edges off my mandibles or something?]
[Financial compensation,] Olivis says. [If any damage is caused to the city by the Colony, they are demanding the Brathian Island Conglomerate agree to pay damages.]
[Well that doesn't seem unreasonable.]
[We already agreed to such terms, they are now inflating the price.]
Oof.
[How how much?]
[If you repeat your actions at Greystone, the entire conglomerate will be bankrupt.]
Double oof.
[I'll be careful.]
[You'd better be.]
-x-X-x-
They do understand that what happened at Greystone is due to the golgari attempting to drop a mountain on my head, right? It's pretty simple, don't try and kill thousands of my family members, and I won't cause any trouble! It seems straightforward to me!
For whatever reason, the child-emperor, or at least, the port officials who represent him, don't seem to have grasped such simple logic.
So we come to the current situation.
The authorities have graciously allowed five thousand ants to enter the walls at a time, so we'll be able to get everyone rotated through over the course of our three day stay. I suspect they've been so generous in the hopes that it increases the likelihood of damages, or perhaps they're just confident in their security.
I, however, am a little more restricted in my movements than the other ants.
Right now, we are marching down a main thoroughfare, easily wide enough to fit me in three times across, surrounded on all sides by silver-armoured guards and a team of mages watching the mana around me like mana-hawks.
[It's the only way they were going to let you in,] Marzban explains, apologetic. They can get a little precious when it comes to potential damage to the city.]
I mean, I suppose I can sympathise. If I lived inside a literal work of art, I wouldn't want strangers scuffing the place up either.
[It's fine,] I sigh. [I could have just stayed on the ship, but I'm guessing the Colony demanded I be allowed on shore.]
[Pretty much,] he confirms. [Not that Eran would have reached an agreement that didn't have you come ashore either. She feels like the Colony is taken more seriously by people who see just how powerful a monster it has produced. A tier seven mythic is nothing to sneeze at, and adds legitimacy to your position as up and comers.]
Well that's nice to hear, I suppose.
As the ant and brathian column moves down the street, we get more than our fair share of attention as well. People poke their noses out of buildings, or come to the footpath to watch us go by. At least nobody seems afraid. They get a little uneasy when they catch sight of me coming, but they relax a bit when they clap eyes on the plethora of guards around me.
As I said earlier, there really isn't any undeveloped land on this mountain, and the locals are not willing to let us dig up a park to make a nest, so our journey comes to an end when we reach a large warehouse district. Normally, I'd be offended at being asked to stay in a warehouse, but honestly, I can't this time.
Even the warehouses are amazing. Damn this city!
Even if we aren't allowed to dig, the Colony is more than happy to pile into the dark and enclosed space. I'm just happy to be able to stretch my legs, so I wander into an unoccupied warehouse and settle onto the floor. Extending my legs out as far as they go, I give them a wiggle before I relax back, folding them up close to my body.
That's the good stuff.
Then I realise all the guards are still with me. Standing to attention, in post all around me, eyes straight forward and hands on their weapons. Even the mages are still here!
I consider reaching out to them with a mind bridge, but decide against it. Instead, I slowly start to weave one and reach out looking for Eran or Marzban, finding the latter soon after.
[Hey. These guards are still here.]
[Yes. And?]
[How long are they going to be here?]
[They aren't leaving you alone as long as you're on the shore, Anthony. This is what we had to agree to before you would be allowed in the city.]
[Ugh. Seriously? Fine.]
Having multiple sword-crazy Folk follow me around all the time was annoying enough, but there were only two of them! This is one, two, three. Twenty five?! Why?!
I mean, I know why, I blew up a mountain, that's why. Well, part of a mountain. An unimportant part, I should add. Eh, it's fine. This is the motherlode of wealth and the Colony deserves to get their slice, so I can put up with an armed escort for three days. Not a problem.
The only way this becomes an issue, is if someone goes out of their way to provoke me, or the Colony in general.
Gah! What am I doing, thinking such thoughts so loudly?! It's going to be fine! Nothing will happen! I need to distract myself from thinking so dangerously, quick!
"Hey, Smithant! Cobalt! Can I get a word?"
The two carvers poke their heads into my warehouse soon after.
"What is it, Eldest?"
"I just wanted to get your thoughts on this place. What do you think of it so far? What are your impressions?"
The two ants ponder my words for a moment.
"There's a lot of wealth here, Eldest. Even beyond the obvious, rare metal covering the buildings. I tried to take in as much detail as I could. The people here are well dressed, very well dressed. I don't think our fabrics are likely to sell much here, people clearly have access to a far superior product."
"I have to echo those sentiments, Eldest, but in regards to metal," Smithant says. "The metalwork used just on the buildings is staggering in its execution. I don't know how they did what they did. Forming such thin lines? The delineation being so clear and defined? Every street pole is formed using a method more advanced than our own."
Hmmm. That's not a bad thing, it just means there's a lot we can learn.
"I assume you two saved up the majority of our supply of cores for this place?"
"Of course, Eldest."
"Then you should do your best to see how many learning materials you can bring back to the nest with us. This could be a golden opportunity to advance our knowledge by leaps and bounds."
"That's what we're hoping as well, Eldest."
"I'll leave it to you. I'm going to try and keep my head down and not cause any trouble while we're here. You two will have to take the lead."
"We won't let you down."
-x-X-x-
The sack of the Silver City marked a point of no return in the great war. Though the ants turned back, and did not commit the final blow against the Child-Emperor, none within the Atreum Empire could ever tolerate peace from that moment onward.
I believe the Colony knew that. I believe they never intended for there to be peace in the first place. It was simply their way of letting the rest of us know the stakes they were playing for.
-Excerpt from 'Reflection on the Great War' by Gonvas
-x-X-x-
Smithant was in heaven, or hell, depending on the moment. Everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by fabulous metalwork that she didn't understand, which was good! On the other mandible, everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by fabulous metalwork that she didn't understand, which was bad.
"Reveal your secrets to me!" she demanded, staring at a rubbish receptacle.
"It's lucky the humans can't pick up what you're saying," Cobalt observed. "None of them would trade with us because of your babbling."
Smithant clacked her mandibles in irritation.
"Metal talks," she replied flatly. "By observing the patterns, the lines in the metal, the sound it makes when struck, there are a thousand ways to learn about it through observation."
"That doesn't mean you should go around threatening people's front steps."
"Metal talks, and I like to talk back," Smithant said, unbothered.
Cobalt laid a sympathetic front leg on the back of her friend's carapace.
"You've been too lonely, haven't you?"
"Get off of me." The smithing expert shrugged off the leg, waving her antennae in irritation. "Stop being ridiculous and focus on what the Eldest asked us to do. We have a guide, let's make use of the time and get what we came for."
"Of course. Just stop yelling at the lampposts."
"Fine."
[Everything all right?] the brathian mage, Irisod asked.
[Yes, of course. Is it this way to the metalwork district?]
[Yes. This is Silver street, and just up ahead you can see where the district starts.]
Indeed, it wasn't that difficult to discern, due to the large, extravagant arch that crossed over the road. Smithant gazed up at it in awe. There were at least thirty different kinds of metal woven into the pattern, each expertly used to complement those around them. The level of artistry on display was staggering.
"I have to find out who was responsible for this work. I refuse to believe everyone in this city is capable of smithing at such a high level!"
Such a thing would be a blow to Smithant's pride. She knew she was younger than most of the smiths in the world, but she believed her love for metal and her dedication to the craft were second to none.
"Why don't we ask? Irisod can translate to the guide for us."
"Will they just tell us?"
"There's only one way to find out."
[We would like to ask if it's known who was responsible for creating the arch above us.]
[I'll ask.]
The three members of the trading group were under escort when moving around the city, as all ants were required to be. Not that the two ants felt threatened, their guide was an old lady who volunteered for the role, apparently.
She and Irisod exchanged words for a moment before the reply came through.
[It seems the majority of the public works in the Silver and Golden city were to some extent the work of the smith Gyllan. He was the lead smith commissioned by the Child-Emperor to construct the capital, along with the many sculptors and architects.]
She continued after a moment's thought.
[I probably could have told you that myself, but I wasn't certain. Gyllan is a legend, even to this day. The method he used to shape the Soul Silver and Heart Gold to create the twin cities died with him. I shouldn't be surprised that something like this was his work.]
The method was lost? Smithant slumped for a moment, all her enthusiasm gone. She was dying to know how it was done!
No matter, time to get moving. There was an entire district of metalwork to see.
Gathering herself, she followed Cobalt and Irisod under the arch and stepped into the district proper. Immediately, she felt at home. The roar of the forge, the ring of the hammer, the sound of singing steel all around her. It was just like being back in the workshop. Except there was less noise here. In the nest, there were thousands of forges running day and night.
There were many people in the street here on business, and many of the shops had displays out the front, or people talking constantly, appealing to the people passing by.
Plentiful noise, colour and light, which in Smithant's opinion, distracted from the purity of the craft. Though it appeared to get Irisod's attention.
[This is perhaps the best place in Pangera to come for metalwork of all kinds. It's famous, and can be extremely expensive,] she told them.
Smithant and Cobalt paused for a moment.
[Expensive in a way that's justified? Or not?]
They hadn't forgotten their previous trading experience. Paying more than a thing was worth went against their fundamental principles!
The mage looked at the two of them and sighed.
[The question of price is more nuanced than what you two seem willing to accept,] she began. [Prices are inflated on this street, because of the reputation that it has, and the number of customers willing to pay. There's no shortage of people in this city willing to pay high prices for good work.]
Smithant snapped her mandibles together.
[If we can get what we want somewhere else without paying more, then why wouldn't we do that? Inflated prices are inflated prices.]
[But they aren't inflated. Well, some of them are, but for the most part, this is what people in this city are willing to pay, so the prices are correct. It's all about the local market.]
The two ants waved their antennae as they considered.
"Let's just see what we can find," Cobalt suggested. "If we judge they are overcharging, we can look elsewhere."
"Fine," Smithant ground out, now eyeing the whole district with distrust. "This place better live up to its reputation. I don't want to have gotten all excited for nothing."
-x-X-x-
Given the bustling streets and crowded storefronts, it was sometimes difficult for the two ants to move freely down Silver street. It was only thanks to the presence of their guide that they were able to travel freely and not be attacked by the many monster hunters searching for weapons and armour.
Eventually, they managed to make their way into a store and start poking around.
"What do you think?" Cobalt asked as she ran her eyes over the merchandise.
"I can tell that the materials used are rare. The mana running through the metal is very dense, and flowing smoothly, but there doesn't seem to be anything super impressive about it?"
"Hmmm. These swords match your description. They're extremely well made, and of good quality metals, but we've seen such things elsewhere. Perhaps we were expecting too much?"
[What are you thinking about, you two?]
They explained their thoughts to Irisod, and she examined the blades herself before shrugging.
[I'm hardly an expert. Let me grab a store clerk.]
[Are they a smith?]
[Perhaps?]
[If they aren't a smith, I don't really want to talk to them,] Smithant said flatly.
[I'll ask.]
As it turned out, all of the staff were proficient to some degree in the smithing arts, which satisfied the fussy ant's requirements. She asked Irisod to explain to them the best qualities of the store's work, and he quickly caught on to what they were getting at.
[He says that his store is famed for its durable and long lasting arms and armour. There was a fair bit of praise for your fine and discerning eye thrown in as well.]
The clerk stepped forward and began pointing to various parts of the swords and armour sets, explaining their qualities.
[The cores are embedded and folded into the metal, and all the enchanting is done on a separate layer, then encased. This helps keep the mana channels from being damaged, even under heavy use. They'll even survive a reforging of the outer layer.]
"That's so clever," Smithant muttered as she reached out with an antenna to run over one of the blades again. "Why didn't I think of that? And it makes sense that they feel like such straightforward implements, anything too complex wouldn't fit in the internal layer, which would compromise the whole point of the design."
"Long lasting durability, ease of repair, reliable performance," Cobalt agreed. "These are indeed well designed."
They turned to Irisod.
[We want two swords, two spears and two full sets of armour. What would be a fair price?]
The mage rolled her eyes.
[That's a complex question that isn't easy for me to answer! I don't shop here much, I don't know what the going rates are for just about anything in this city.]
[What would you pay in the Conglomerate?]
[That's not how this works,] the mage exhaled a little in frustration. [Give me a minute,] she said.
She turned back to the store representative and began to speak rapidly while the two ants stood perfectly still, watching the exchange. After five full minutes, she again spoke to the ants over the mind bridge.
[I've haggled as best I can, but the price is still prohibitively expensive. To know if this is indeed the market rate, you are going to have to do something you have thus far been reluctant to do.]
[What's that?] Cobalt asked warily.
[Shop around!] Irisod declared, eyes gleaming brightly. [We go to the competitors of this store and work out what their bottom price is. If it's cheaper, we come back and use that number to knock down the price here. Then we do the whole thing again!]
Both ants slumped.
[That sounds like such a pain,] Smithant groaned.
[You want to visit other forges anyway, right?] Irisod reminded them.
[Yes but I don't want to backtrack endlessly haggling just so we don't end up paying more than we should. It's inefficient!]
[In time, yes, but not in money!]
[Time is much more valuable than money.]
Irisod gasped as if Smithant had just committed heresy. The smith glared at her.
[Can you buy time?] she demanded.
[No,] Irisod replied reluctantly, [it's not that I don't agree with you, it's just that some things are simply not said around a brathian.]
[I apologise.]
[Not at all.]
Thus began their exhausting day of running backwards and forwards across the district. They inspected ingots in one forge, carefully selected a range of specimens, allowed Irisod to haggle over the price, then left to another forge and did the exact same thing. Then again. Then again. Then they returned to the first forge, some more haggling ensued, and finally they made a purchase.
It was nonsense!
As they rushed from place to place, Irisod gleefully engaging in vigorous negotiations in each, the extraordinary capabilities of the local smiths revealed themselves. No matter what someone needed, it was found here. The most delicate and refined metal furniture. Weapons and armour of every size, shape, mana affinity and purpose. Wire. Ingots. Even custom-designed anvils! If it was made of metal, or even could be made of metal, it was for sale. Some places were small, with only a single smith, while others were large, with a dozen forges and teams of workers putting metal to the flame and selling to customers.
It was the differing philosophies of metalworking that caught Smithant's attention the most. Some, like the first place they visited, concentrated on durability, while others focused on pure performance. Lighter metals, more conductive to mana, in one store, would be replaced with heavier metals, greater rigidity and less emphasis on enchanting, in another.
Some armour was designed to crumple, others to hold firm.
Then the sheer variety of techniques. Of the dozens and dozens of different types of metal, each was handled a dozen different ways across the many different forges, each method emphasising a different property of the base material.
It was almost overwhelming, and Smithant wanted to buy everything in sight, but knew they couldn't afford it.
When they finally left the market, the two ants were weighed down with over a ton of metal goods between them, having spent almost their entire reserve of cores.
[Now that's how it's done,] Irisod beamed with satisfaction. [Do you understand the appeal of haggling now?]
The two ants looked at each other.
[No.]
[Not even a little bit.]
-x-X-x-
I have gravely underestimated the true danger that I will face here in the Silver City. Locked away in this warehouse, constantly watched by guards. Two sets of guards, if I'm being accurate.
My true enemy has revealed itself. Boredom!
I'm so boooored! There's a whole city out there filled with adventure, and excitement! Probably! At the very least, there must be a plethora of awesome things to see. The buildings, the fine art, the non-inside of warehouse type of things.
After spending so much time flopping listless on a ship, the last thing I wanted to do was spend more time flopping listless inside a building.
Well, it's nice to be inside, but that's not the point!
In a desperate search for things to distract my mind, I have delved into the very things that I usually try to avoid examining too closely: the Vestibule and the Nave.
With only ten thousand ants around, the energy flowing into the Vestibule is a mere trickle of what it usually is, and separating out the individual threads from the flow is a breeze. Meaning, I can keep tabs on any individual or group of ants without really having to try. Normally, I don't like prying in this way, but I'm bored as heck, so it's been fun to see what's going on around the place.
The other thing I've been investigating is the Nave, the various presences within it, specifically the four golden figures standing against the wall. I know they came on the trade mission, but I haven't found a good moment to talk with them, really. Unfortunately for me, there's no possible way for me to avoid it anymore. In fact, I welcome the conversation, given that I have nothing else to do.
I'm like a guy finally pairing all his socks to avoid trying to calculate his taxes.
So, I reach out to the pair via the Nave.
Hey there, it's me, Anthony.
The big lad, Jern, I think his name was, reacts in his usual calm way, but the girl, Alis, falls off something, judging by the way she yelps, then cries out again.
Sorry if I surprised you, I'm not sure how I can give you any warning when contacting like this. Anyways. Can I get you two to pop over to my warehouse? We should have a chat to try and work out exactly what's happening here.
They both agree, Alis with a significant amount of muttered grumbles, but it isn't long before the two of them appear in front of me. It's tempting to keep using the Nave to speak with them, but that's probably rude, or something? They're right here, so a mind bridge will suffice.
[Hey there, gang. How are we enjoying the tour?]
They look at each other before Jern shrugs casually.
[It's been fine,] he replies. [I never thought I'd get the chance to see the fourth stratum like this. It wasn't that long ago I was on the surface.]
[No problems with mana sickness?]
[Nothing out of the ordinary,] he says, rubbing at the back of his head. [It's been mild for me.]
[I have a few issues,] Alis says, starting out strong but quickly wilting. She gathers her strength to go again. [We almost died when that giant hunk of rock almost fell on the fleet. I thought this was supposed to be a trade mission? Shouldn't we be safe?]
Jern shifts his feet uncomfortably, but it's not really an unreasonable complaint. All of the people aboard the ships were put in great danger when the golgari decided to do that. The morons.
[Totally agree, that was a bad move from the authorities in Greystone, and we aren't happy about it. There's no reason to bring your complaints to me, though, I was also at risk! In fact, it was me who saved everyone, remember?]
Recalling the terrors that they experienced, the two humans grow pale, but decide not to point out the danger that I put them in. For which I'm grateful.
Jern raises up a hand and I point an antenna at him.
[Yes, Jern. What's up?]
[I was just wondering if we should kneel or something? I think Priest Beyn would be mad at us if we just stood here.]
Alis starts as if she's just realising the same, then turns to stare up at me again. I stare back.
[There's really no need for that. Just because I'm the 'Great One' or whatever he calls me. I didn't ask to be worshipped, and I'm certainly not a god.]
Actually, should I say that? These two received unique Classes from the System, which they probably wouldn't have gotten without some level of faith in what the stupid priest has been spreading around.
Alis seems confused by my declaration of non-godhood, but Jern is more direct with his thoughts.
[You aren't a god?] he asks me.
[Of course not.]
[But I feel a strong, sort of spiritual connection to you?]
Ah that's true. They are linked to me in a way that could be described as spiritual.
[That's just an effect of your Classes and my species.]
[Your species allows for spiritual connections?] Jern asks.
This guy. His expression is totally innocent, and even Alis is looking less troubled the more he talks. Worst of all, I can't really refute it!
[Sort of] I hedge. [I take in Will from those who] ah, heck. There's no good way to say this. [From those who have faith in me.]
[Huh,] Jern says.
That's it? Just 'huh'?
[That doesn't make me a god! Lots of monsters could do the same thing!]
[Have they?]
Guh.
[Not not that I'm aware of?]
[Huh.]
Damn this guy!
[Look, just because Beyn says something about me, doesn't mean you need to believe it. I'm not some messenger sent by the System to light a new Path, or whatever he goes on about! I'm an ant monster who just happened to help out some people, that's all!]
Jern nods solemnly, and I think I might have finally gotten through to him.
Then
[Didn't you imply that you might know who is behind the System?] he asks, perfectly straight faced.
Alis' head whips around to stare up at me again.
[No..] I say, my mental voice rising a few octaves. [not at all.]
I hold for about five seconds before I break like a kitkat.
[Look, I don't know if he runs it, I never asked the guy! Honestly, I could ask him, but he's odd about what questions he wants to answer and which ones he doesn't.]
Jern blinks slowly, then nods.
[Huh,] he says.
GAHHHHHH!
This is not going how I hoped it would.
[Shouldn't a god be like, super powerful and stuff? I'm just a big monster!]
[I watched you almost blow up a mountain.]
[Oh yeah.]
It's true that not every monster can do that. I mean, the only reason I can is because I happened to stumble into gravity mana thanks to my knowledge from Earth, but how do I explain that to them without coming across as even more sacred?
[If it's all the same to you, Mr Anthony,] the big lad says respectfully, [I'll keep thinking of you as my god.]
Alis looks towards him, then nods her head, most of her hesitation gone. I slump to the ground in defeat.
[Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you. Putting all that aside, talk to me about this Class of yours.]
-x-X-x-
[So you guard my sanctum? What the heck does that mean?]
[We don't know,] Alis replies, [that's just what the description says.]
She seems to be finding her equilibrium again, though she oscillates between being unwilling to look at me, and a feisty stare.
The only sanctum I can think of involves a great deal of torpor, willing and unwilling. Given the appearance of these two within the Nave, I'm guessing that qualifies as the sanctum named in their Class description, but how the heck do they defend it? Defend it from what?!
The mere fact that the Class describes them as 'defenders' means the Nave can be attacked in some way, right? The implication is pretty clear. It's kind of worrying that the possibility exists and I have no idea how it's done, but at least I have some measure of protection. Hopefully.
[From my perspective, I can see a possible 'sanctum', but I have no idea how you protect it. Do you two have any clues?]
Jern and Alis look at each other briefly before Jern rolls his shoulders and turns back to me.
[No clue,] he says simply.
He's direct, this guy. I like him, even if he's way too stubborn.
[I can say this] he begins slowly, [I think I feel stronger while I'm around you.]
[You what? You feel stronger?]
He nods, and Alis hesitantly agrees.
[Being close to you is empowering us in some way.]
Dammit. I know what's coming next.
"We should keep these two around, Eldest," Protectant whispers to me from the Shadows. "They could help defend you."
"I'm not increasing the number of babysitters! I already have you twenty and that's pushing the limits."
"It's almost impossible to tell we're even here," she mutters.
"I can tell. Easily."
And I'll never explain how. Gweheheheheh. I'm sure Protectant, Guardiant and the others have figured it out by now, or at least have gotten close, but there's nothing they can do about it, even if they do know! No hiding from me, you pains in the back-zone.
[To learn more, I think we are just going to have to level you up, and any other of the 'templars' who show up.]
These two were the first, but they aren't the only templars out there. Two more showed up a while back, so currently I have four silent golden statues keeping watch within my Nave.
Alis appears eager when she hears my plans to power level them, but Jern doesn't match her energy.
[You don't want to level up, Jern?]
He scratches at the back of his head.
[I don't like fighting that much,] he admits. [I'll do it when I have to.]
Didn't this guy literally go on a crusade? Maybe he feels like he was forced into those fights? That can't be right, they literally conquered cities!
[I won't force you to do something you don't want to, but if there's one thing we aren't short of here in the Dungeon, it's monsters that need whacking. It shouldn't be that hard to pump the two of you up at least a few levels so we can see what your Class can really do.]
As I understand it, they need levels and training in order to fully realise the capabilities of their Classes and the affiliated Skills. Not like a monster, who evolves and that's pretty much it. I mean, it takes time to learn how to use new organs and such, but we don't get major unlocks with levels like non-monsters do. It's all about the Biomass.
What we need to do is discuss with someone who has expertise in Classes and other System gobbledygook. Someone with knowledge of religious based Classes. Someone who is willing to cooperate with the Colony and won't hide things from us.
Hmmm
Is there anyone else? I need to think for a bit longer.
Hmmm
Please let there be somebody else!
But no matter how I think on the matter, all roads lead back to the one-armed banditI mean priest.
[Can one of you get Beyn in here?] I sigh. [And Enid as well. Heck, get Isaac while you're at it.]
Maybe I can deflect or minimise some of his insanity if I surround him with more sane humans. Wait if I want sane humans should I leave Isaac out? Too late, Alis has run off before I was even finished talking, leaving me and Jern standing around awkwardly.
Well, I feel a little awkward, Jern seems to be feeling perfectly at ease, as if he were standing in a field watching the crops grow rather than a metal warehouse with a mythic monster. This guy seems totally incapable of flight, he simply can't be flapped.
[What do you think of the Silver City?] I ask him.
He looks around vaguely.
[It's nice,] he replies.
Conversation dies pretty quickly at that point. Luckily, we don't have to wait long for Alis to return with our most wanted. Before I even see Beyn, I latch onto his mind with a bridge.
[DO NOT SHOUT AT ME. Yes, I did shout that instruction at you, but I feel like you deserve it.]
[I'M HONOURED, GREAT ONE!]
[DAMMIT!]
I hear a thud just outside the entrance, but before I can investigate, the priest comes into view, scuttling forward somehow on his knees with his face pressed into the ground.
[I apologise for lack of control,] he says, voice quivering with emotion.
This guy is just exhausting. Jern seems happy to see him, while Alis appears somewhat concerned to see him bowed down so low. Enid, at least, looks like a normal person should. I think.
[Hey, Enid! How are you enjoying the tour?]
[It's been wonderful,] the old woman smiles. [I never thought I'd get the chance to see some of these places. The Eran has been a wonderful host.]
[She's taking good care of you?] That raises the brathian up a few steps in my esteem. [That's good! Isaac, how are you? How's your moustache?]
I have to ask since he won't stop stroking or twirling the dang thing.
[I had it treated at a salon today,] he says, eyes gleaming. [I'm very happy with the result. Are the Legion around?]
Wha what does that have to do with anything?
[Yes, of course they are. The fleet is out there, some of them came ashore, we know that much. There's also a significant Legion fortress here with a large garrison. So, yes, the Legion is all over the place.]
His smile widens to a creepy degree.
[That's good.]
[You're weird. Now, I have questions,] and here I expand out the mind bridge to connect everyone together. [I'm trying to learn about these Templar and their Class. I'd like some advice.]
[OF COURSE, GRE]
[SHUT UP!]
I will make this guy be quiet someday if it's the last thing I do.
-x-X-x-
[Ahem. I apologise for my outburst, I will control myself.]
[You'd better,] Enid snaps, rubbing at her temple. [We're all linked together with this bridge, Anthony isn't the only one getting a headache from your shouting.]
[I am ashamed.]
[Geez, just take it easy, alright?]
I'm massaging my own temples with my antennae. Dealing with this guy is always such a pain.
[You're the best person to provide information on something like this, so try to hold it together so we can ask some questions.]
The priest remains on the floor, his face pressed into the ground.
[So are you getting up?]
[I believe it will be easier to control myself if I remain in this position, unable to lay eyes on your magnificence.]
This freakin' guy
Enid rolls her eyes and even Alis looks a little uncomfortable at his antics. I'm not wrong, right? This guy is way too weird, right?!
[Fine. Let's just get on with this. These two have a Templar Class, of some sort. Is there anything similar in your knowledge of the System?]
[There isn't,] Beyn replies, and I can feel the tension in his thoughts as he rigorously tries not to burst out with some nonsense. [In my opinion, for such a Class to come about, direct contact with a divine entity excuse me.]
Before my many-lensed eyes, he turns his head to one side, shoves his fist in his mouth, and screams at the top of his lungs, eyes bulging from his head. This goes on for far too long, before he shifts back to face-in-floor mode and resumes speaking.
[Direct contact with the divine, Great One. Although there have been Priests and the like all over Pangera ever since the System descent, Classes related to specific beliefs and individuals either don't exist, or are kept secret.]
Hmmm. My money is on the latter. I'm sure there's plenty of Classes that are tailored to specific individuals or circumstances. For example, why is the ruler of Atreum called the 'Child-Emperor'? Never the 'middle-aged' Emperor, or 'Sundowning Emperor'. Either they have an elixir of youth, or there is a more specific reason.
Perhaps that is the Class title?
[So what you're saying is that the emergence of the Colony and our mixing with people has brought about changes in the System? We knew that already.]
Ant Cavalry, ant priests, ant all sorts of stuff. Weird Classes have been popping up everywhere.
[Those changes are directly related to the Colony,] Beyn agrees. [However, other changes are more directly related to your]
He takes a deep, steadying breath.
[Your nature,] he squeezes out, mind vibrating with suppressed energy.
[I'm just a monster. A very big, super awesome monster,] I tell him flatly. [Who has a cool, shiny carapace,] I add.
[Of course,] he agrees, way too quickly.
[You don't believe me, do you?] I ask him shrewdly.
[Of course not,] he replies.
Dammit!
[So, you don't actually know how this new Class works at all, do you?]
[I'm afraid I don't, Great One. If I have displeased you, allow me to cut off my arm in repentance.]
[You've only got one arm left, man! Treasure it a bit more!]
[I will!]
I'm exhausted. It's at this point Enid chips in.
[Beyn, isn't it the case that the Church of the Path maintains a large presence here in the Silver City?]
He nods into the floor.
[Yes. There is also a cathedral in the Golden City, but only the highest ranking members of the Church may go there.]
[Putting that cathedral aside for a moment, would it be possible for you to investigate their library? There may be something you can learn from the books squirrelled away in there.]
Good idea, Enid! Get this guy the heck away from me!
[In the meantime, we can turn our two young Templar over to Isaac for training. I'm sure he can help make something of them.]
Isaac pauses in his moustache twirling for a brief moment.
[Isn't one of them a mage? How would I help with that?]
[You know mages, Isaac,] Enid tells him patiently, [human mages who are used to fighting with the Colony. Don't you think that's what Alis needs?]
[Sounds like everyone has something they can be doing, then!] I announce happily.
[Not me,] Enid points out.
[Go nap. Now everyone has something they need to be doing! Everyone out! I'm going to take a snooze myself.]
[If I may, Great One,] Beyn speaks up. [Enid has brought up a good point, and I will gladly do this research. However, there is another thing that I wish to bring to your attention.]
He got through that whole speech without spasming in some weird way. In fact, I can feel his mind is unusually steady.
[Go ahead, Beyn. I'm listening.]
[SUCH JOY]
[Stop! Breathe! Again! Now continue.]
He masters himself with difficulty.
[The Church of the Path is strong here. Very strong. They preach, as I once foolishly did, that supremacy over this world can be achieved through the System, and the destruction of monsters. They are vociferously against cooperation with monsters, even to the point of advocating for the eradication of the Sophos for many years.]
[So you're saying they aren't going to be fans of the Colony?]
[They will do everything in their power to destroy you,] he says with unusual seriousness. [To them, the Colony is a resource that must be exploited as a matter of faith. I want to encourage all members of your family to be on their guard while inside the Silver City.]
[You think they would attack us?]
[I fear they would do much worse.]
-x-X-x-
A Divine Mission! A Holy Order!
Beyn found it difficult to contain himself as he made his way into the city, leaving the warehouse compound occupied by the Great One, his family, and the rest of the trade mission.
Such was his energy, he found himself trembling from head to toe. His feet were on the ground, but his spirit soared into the air. With every stride, he longed to declare the truth, to speak of the New Way, unveiled through the grace of the Great One upon the world!
However, such an action would assuredly result in his death, and it was not proper for him to martyr himself at this time. There was too much to be done. The great labour, laying down the new Path atop the false, was painstaking work and needed to be completed brick by brick. For all of his flaws, of which there were many, Beyn was aware of his position. His task lay not only in placing bricks, but in recruiting others to the cause, rallying the people around the Great One.
So, he must live on, which meant the many unbelievers around him went unenlightened. Each person who walked by without hearing of the New Way sent a shard of pain directly into his heart, but he held firm, as was his duty.
What the passers by thought of this twitching man, frequently brushing tears from his eyes with his one hand, is probably best kept a mystery.
Eventually, he reached the grand cathedral that formed the centre of the Church's power in the Silver City. Atop a grand staircase, the shining, silver edifice was a marvel to behold. Huge in scale, impressive in artistry, it truly was an incredible sight. However, Beyn found it didn't move him as perhaps it once might have.
The statue, fifty metres tall, of the smiling, wizened figure who represented the Path, looked down on the streams of people moving in and out of the compound with benevolence. Where once the robed figure, with his large hat and luxurious beard, had seemed so wise, almost all-knowing to Beyn, now he knew of the deeper Truth. There was another way.
With a set of priestly robes the brathians secured for him, Beyn shrugged his shoulders and walked up the stairs. Before him yawned the wide open entrance to the cathedral itself, the booming words of a stirring sermon echoing out from within. He didn't enter; instead, he turned to his right and moved to the side. Less of the public moved here; instead, it was mostly priests and staff, carrying books and other documents, going about the work of the Church.
It had been so long since he'd worn the traditional robes, and he felt quite uncomfortable without the antennae on his head, but he pressed on, determined to learn what he could.
"Welcome to the library. How can I assist you on your Path?"
Beyn started as he was intercepted the moment he stepped foot within the building. Dressed similarly to himself, the man who accosted him was clearly not a normal Priest, as evidenced by his robust physique.
"Oh. Yes, one moment."
Beyn fumbled through his robes until he found what he was looking for.
"Ah, here," he said, handing over his medallion of office.
"A moment, father."
The man took the finely shaped metal disc in one palm and placed the other over it, reading the mana contained within.
"You're a long way from your flock, father," he noted evenly.
Beyn nodded.
"The waves caused much destruction," he said sadly. "My people have gone through a great deal since the destruction of Liria."
"I can only imagine the strange twists of fate that brought you to the fourth stratum. Regardless, you are allowed entry. You can access the index at the desk once you are inside. May the Path guide your way."
"... And yours."
He longed. HE LONGED, to enlighten this man as to the True Path, but with great effort, he held his tongue.
"Why are you holding your tongue, father?"
"Thno reethon. Ethcuthe me."
Not wanting to interact further and risk depleting his willpower, Beyn scuttled inside. The library was enormous, a great repository of knowledge, built up by the Church for over a thousand years. Although it would have been impressive to see all the texts in a single, open space, that wasn't how they were stored. Instead, they filled room after room within the Library complex, each indexed and catalogued, filled with shelf after shelf of volumes.
Immediately inside, the great index could be found, a row of enormous books, each tended by a robed Priest or Priestess. After some discussion and consultation of the texts, he was given a list of books, rooms and shelves to find what it was that he sought. Thankfully, there was precious little speech within the Library, so Beyn felt safe, believing none would engage him in conversation as he worked.
For the next few hours, he toiled away in the depths of the Library, hunting down the books he needed, reading in the alcoves provided, taking notes. It was easy to get lost in the work, and there were several revelations that caused his brows to rise.
However, his concentration was broken when a soft voice spoke over his shoulder.
"Father Beyn? If I might have a moment of your time?"
Disconcerted, he turned to see a smiling Priest had approached him, hands folded within his robes.
"Ah, I didn't mean to surprise you. I learned that a Priest assigned to the Liria region of the surface had entered the Library. Is that you?"
"It is," Beyn stated, a little reluctantly. Why was this person approaching him? Why would he care about a tiny frontier surface kingdom that no longer existed?
"I see I have confused you," the man smiled. "Worry not, I merely have some questions about the misfortune which plagued your people. My name is Alir, Alir Vinting, a Grand Priest of the Way."
Beyn hurriedly ducked his head in an improvised seated bow.
"There is no need," Alir said, raising a hand. "May I have a moment of your time for discussion?"
"Of course, Grand Priest," Beyn hurriedly assented. "You have but to ask."
-x-X-x-
Enid enjoyed spending time with Eran Thouris, though the brathian negotiator was often busy, such as now. But the retired merchant was content merely to be present and soak up the energy of frenzied trading. It reminded her heavily of the old days, a young Enid fighting for every scrap of gold she could get her hands on.
The secret to the brathian conglomerate's success seemed to be: they always brought that level of energy. No matter how much wealth they amassed, they were as hungry for the next sale as they were for their first.
"Have the table dressings arrived? I wanted to see the samples two hours ago!" Eran demanded.
"Not yet. There have been issues with the supplier."
"Inform them we will be cutting their payment by twenty percent as per our contract. Timing of the delivery was stipulated very clearly."
"They may not like that. What if they drag their feet even further?"
"That's what the second, thirty percent delay penalty is for. Have the ants approved the proposed layout for the market?"
"They have."
Eran made a humming noise of approval.
"It's wonderful to work with people who understand the importance of a prompt response."
Enid smiled. The Colony loved being organised. They were likely just as appreciative of the brathian obsession with logistics.
"You seem to be putting more attention into this stop than the others," Enid observed.
Eran turned to her.
"The other cities were important, and we made some good deals, but they were just rehearsals for the Silver City. As much as it pains me to admit it, this is the richest city in the world. Even a small slice of the market here will be as profitable as the rest of the trip."
Truly, the beating heart of the Atreum empire was an incredible sight to behold. Enid had sat and watched the gate network in action, a vast number of people coming and going constantly, even at night. The docks were just as busy, an endless flow of ships unloading cargo and people, tourists, merchants, monster hunters, all coming to see the sights and seek their fortunes.
"It truly is a remarkable place," Enid sighed. "I certainly hope you find success here."
The brathian smirked.
"Me too," she said. "There's so much money on the line I can practically smell it. If all goes well, the Colony will see an influx of cores greater than they ever expected."
All of which would flow to the grubs, empowering the next generations of ants. It would be interesting to see what sort of difference this trade mission would make to the Colony. So far, they had subsided purely on what they could gain for themselves by harvesting the Dungeon. Enid believed they would be shocked to see what they would gain by engaging in commerce.
"Eran, the samples have arrived."
"Finally! Let me see."
A sweating merchant stood by several mockup stalls nearby, an apologetic expression on his face. The Eran was not in a forgiving mood, stalking around the stalls with a critical eye. The lace didn't hang properly. The trim wasn't up to standard. The sculpting on the legs wasn't fully symmetrical.
To Enid's trained eye, the complaints were legitimate, but only barely. To the Eran's eye, even the the slightest issue was as glaring as an ink stain on a cotton blanket.
Eventually, her approval was given, but only begrudgingly. Had the contracts not already been signed, the formidable brathian would surely have demanded even further discounts.
"Have you decided on a venue?" Enid asked when the inspection was complete.
"Of course. The Tescilan Dome was booked before we departed the Conglomerate," Eran replied with satisfaction.
"I presume that is a good thing?" Enid laughed.
"It's a great thing. It cost a fortune, but it's well worth it. The Dome is a prestigious and beloved venue here in the Silver City. Just being there will draw many eyes and increase our exposure."
"It seems things are going well, then."
"Let's not count our gold before it's in the vault," Eran cautioned. "There is still much to be done. How is Anthony, by the way? I heard you went to visit him earlier in the day."
"I think he's struggling with isolation somewhat," Enid replied after a moment of thought. "He doesn't cope well when he can't move around, in my experience."
Eran nodded.
"That's my sense as well. I hope he can hold on a little longer. One more day, then our stalls will open, and of course I want him present. A visible sign of the Colony's strength and majesty."
"Don't describe him like that when he can hear you," Enid warned her. "He's puffed up about his appearance enough already."
The brathian laughed.
"Yes, well it can't be helped. He is a very impressive monster, no matter how we slice it. The people here aren't easily impressed, but even they will flock to take a look at the strongest ant monster in the history of Pangera."
"And hopefully buy some tea and furniture while they're there."
"Of course," the Eran flashed a grin.
"Are there any concerns about security?" Enid asked quietly. "I had a discussion with some of my people earlier, and they warned that some in the city would be hostile towards the Colony."
"There are always those who are hostile towards monsters," Eran replied. "Not that we aren't cognizant of the danger. With Anthony lying low, the risks of an incident are greatly reduced, but we are doing our best to ensure all members of the Colony are escorted whenever they leave the compound. So far, there haven't been any issues, but we will continue to be cautious."
"Good. I think I will go and let Anthony know. It will put his mind at ease."
"Please do so. Remind him to be on his best behaviour tomorrow. One day of trading will make or break this partnership. I want everything to be perfect."
"I'll let him know. I'm sure he didn't come all this way to ruin things at the last moment."
The moment she said the words, Enid felt a chill run down her spine. She should know better than to make such proclamations where that particular ant was concerned.