Castle Kingside

Howling winds flapped the black curtains serving as doors for a carved carapaced devil’s shell. The heathen corpse contained five floor-level beds, each struggling to keep a weary diplomat warm after a day of spearfishing, visiting acidic lakes resting within yellow, sulfurous craters, and comparing weapons with myrmidon. All activities performed in silence. Although both races were eager to speak to one another despite prolonged hostilities, a surgeon notwithstanding, their only means of communication were grunts and simple gestures.

Something Dimitry aimed to change in the future. However, right now, he had other plans. He lay on a futon-like bed that smelled of pungent fish, thinking of how to reach a nearby shrine despite myrmidon keeping watch outside. They claimed their presence was necessary to defend the settlement against nighttime rock giant raids.

A lie.

Not only were heathen numbers lowest at this time of month, but they would have to navigate through the ocean, where most aquatic demons lived, before they could attack the island. Tonight, the myrmidon watchmen observed their second-biggest enemy—humans. A day of successful negotiations couldn’t erase a century of suspicion and bloodshed.

A prudent decision, but one that didn’t make Dimitry’s task any easier. He needed to escape with his partner in crime—the girl whose curly red-brown hair lay splattered on a squishy pillow across the room.

Angelika was vital to his plans.

Like the shrine in Amphurt, which had spaces for other people’s palms, there was a chance the one on this island did, too. And the trip there wasn’t guaranteed to be safe. No matter what perils they encountered on the way, Angelika would remain calm and ready to respond. As for what reaction she would have to a glowing knight emblem and an activated monolith, however, was still unclear.

But Dimitry trusted her to keep his secrets. If Angelika didn’t reveal his murderous plans before, she wouldn’t mouth off about alien artifacts either. Or at least he hoped she wouldn’t. That was why he told her about tonight’s scouting mission beforehand.

Dimitry pulled off his smooth blanket, then dressed as quietly as he could. He reached for a cloak hanging off a rack carved into the heathen’s corpse and tickled its pocket.

A small hand with golden fingernails waved from within. Precious was ready.

Surprised at the initiative shown by his lazy companion, Dimitry put on the rest of his clothes. He snuck past a snoozing Klaire towards Angelika. Wondering if the combat mage remained dressed to stay warm in winter weather, to prepare for their nighttime mission, or to prevent the only man in the room from getting a peek, Dimitry tugged on her cuffs.

“Go away, Leona,” Angelika mumbled with closed eyes while rolling over.

Still asleep? Desperate times called for desperate measures. Dimitry pinched her nose.

Angelika’s eyes shot open, their startled and murderous gaze traveling towards a man with pale green eyes before relaxing.

Dimitry held a finger to his lips.

Giving him an inconvenienced glare, she clambered out of bed. Angelika pulled the voltech rifle protruding from under her pillow and swiped it into the holster strapped to her back.

Dimitry reached into his pocket for a pure vol pellet, whose smooth surface differentiated it from its crude counterparts, then glanced around the room to confirm that neither Klaire nor the mages were awake. Satisfied with their slumbering visages, he rested his arm on Angelika’s shoulder. “Invisall.”

Two people vanished from sight.

Dimitry walked forward. His boots tapped against a granite floor, their every movement audible amongst the gentle rustling of outside greenery. His plan wouldn’t work. The myrmidon waiting outside would hear him leave, then enter the lodgings to investigate.

A soft hand patted him until it found his wrist and pulled him back.

“Silencia,” Angelika whispered.

His breathing, his clothes’ rustling, and even the thumping of his heart went silent. Being unable to see or hear himself felt surreal, but Angelika’s idea was their best bet for a stealthy escape. Hopefully, they would return before anyone noticed their absence.

A trek past an aquatic demon village and the periphery of a wood was all it took to reach the shrine. Erect at the foot of an ice-capped mountain and enshrouded in dense thickets darkened by nightfall, it stood as tall as a two-story house. Blue wisps slid down its four jet-black slanted sides, dissipating before they touched the ground.

Its most eye-catching feature, however, was a shoulder-height monitor displaying a blue knight. Beside it was another one shaped like a right hand. Could Dimitry activate them with the help of his guard?

“What the…” Angelika edged closer to the monolith. “Why is there Zeran shit on an island full of demons?”

Unlike the Church, which built luxurious marble cathedrals around each cache, myrmidon didn’t show this one the same treatment. Only three spears with edges weathered by time lay crossed at its base. Was it a sign of respect? Hostility? If this shrine lost its light like the one in Estoria did after he retrieved its relic, how would the myrmidon react? Would they shrug it off or blame then murder every human on Waira in retaliation before resuming a century-old war?

Dimitry didn’t know and couldn't ask for permission either. If they said no, the shrine would remain off-limits forever.

Sneaking around was the best option.

A risk worth taking.

The man in the dark hall mentioned that caches were his best hope for survival and, although conspicuous beyond all measure, showed interest in keeping Dimitry alive. There was also the promise of ‘Homeworld Expertise’—knowledge accrued by humanity over millennia.

Would it be enough to save a dying city?

Angelika turned away from the shrine and stomped toward Dimitry. “How did you know this was here?”

He could have said that myrmidons told him the shrine’s location, but lying now was pointless. Not only would it make explaining Angelika’s role in his plans more difficult, but their professional relationship would spiral into a web of lies. Dimitry needed Angelika to trust him, and he wanted to show her the same courtesy. “Before I tell you, you have to promise me something.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah? And what’s that?”

He walked past her. “Everything that you see tonight will be our secret. One that you have to keep from everyone else, including Raina, Mira, and your sisters.”

Angelika didn’t respond. Full of suspicion, her orange eyes followed his every move.

Was she conflicted as to whether Dimitry was trustworthy? He couldn’t blame her. There was much about him that a layman’s understanding of this world couldn’t explain: modified magic, the ability to speak with demons, and now, excessive knowledge of religious monuments. “If it helps, everything we’re doing is to help Malten survive free from the Church.”

“How can you say that when we’re standing in front of a Zeran fucking shrine?”

“Who says it belongs to Zera?”

“Huh?”

Dimitry turned around. “What proof does the Church have that Zera erected them?”

“What are you talking about now?”

“I’m saying that the scriptures aren’t necessarily true. What if someone else built them before humans were even around? What if corrupted creatures did, or perhaps a god no one knows about?”

“Stop. I’m not in the mood for a lecture.” Angelika sighed. “Dimitry, you’re the strangest person I’ve ever met, and nothing you do makes sense. You torture rats with magic to watch them shit themselves, then somehow use the same spells to cure the plague. Then, less than a week later, you drag us out to a nest crawling with savages and somehow convince them not to kill us. I don’t understand it at all. Sometimes, I don’t know if I want to understand, but no matter how dumb your idea sounds, it somehow works out.”

“Does that mean you’ll keep everything you see and hear a secret?”

“Fine.” She leaned back against a tree. “You have my word.”

Precious pinched his abdomen three times to communicate that Angelika spoke the truth, but Dimitry didn’t need her confirmation.

He pulled up the sleeves of his cloak and gambeson to reveal a navy blue emblem on his wrist. “Have you ever seen one of these before?”

“No.” Angelika’s eyes furrowed. “What the hell’s that?”

“It’s a key.”

“A key? For what?”

Dimitry pointed at the shrine. “Do you see the image of a horse’s head?”

“Yeah. It looks like the one on your arm.”

“Mine is the key, and that’s the lock.” He approached the monolith’s base, letting the emblem on his wrist drift up to meet the one displayed by the monitor.

Like in Amphurt and Estoria, the blue wisps drifting along the shrine’s edges coalesced into geometric shapes. They peeled from the jet-black surface and rose into the air to form alien characters.

Angelika swiped the rifle off of her back, slammed an iron ball into its barrel, and aimed ahead.

“Wait.” Dimitry gently pushed down the front of her weapon. “It’s just a message.”

“W-what’s it say?”

‘Knight C27E957, your courage has paved the way to your third cache.’

‘A trial awaits to prepare you and your squire for the tumultuous days ahead.’

‘May the relics within guide you to victory.’

Dimitry stroked his chin. “Apparently, there’s something inside that could help us, but it says we have to go through a trial first.”

“What kind of trial?”

“I have no idea.” He looked at the girl whose orange eyes focused on floating words like a hunter tracked fowl. “It could be anything, maybe even dangerous.”

“You said it could help Malten?”

“I did.”

Angelika rested the wooden underbelly of her voltech rifle over her shoulder. “Then let’s stop wasting time.”

“Are you sure?” Dimitry asked. “For all I know, we might die.”

“The job of a combat mage is to die for their city.” She wore an expression that didn’t fear death, but taunted it to do its best. “If a surgeon like you isn’t scared, then why the fuck would I be?”

Dimitry grinned. “I never said I wasn’t scared.” Taking a deep breath, he realigned his knight imprint with the one on the monolith. Nothing happened. Was the squire’s help necessary as well? “Angelika, put your palm where it tells you to.”

She threw her weapon into her left hand and placed her right onto the shrine’s palm-shaped groove.

The world vanished.

Heavy stomping and the tremor of each step shook the jet-black floor of a massive chamber. Massive, and empty. Aside from expansive walls, a distant ceiling, and a building-sized box in the center, only three things filled its interior: a surgeon, his guard, and whatever made the ground quake.

Dimitry’s head twisted, scouring for the ominous sound’s source. His eyes locked onto the central compartment but saw nothing. Where was he? Was this the cache’s trial? If so, it seemed to have stolen someone from him. He gently pressed down on his cloak’s inner left pocket, which had an uncharacteristic lightness and lack of wriggling.

Precious was missing.

Was she safe?

Was Dimitry?

Angelika aimed down her rifle’s barrel. “Where the…”

“I don’t know.” Dimitry turned his gaze towards an opening panel.

A square-shaped tile with dimensions dwarfing a basketball court peeled off the central compartment and slammed into the floor with a loud clang. It revealed the box’s interior. An arched leg covered in slithering goo stepped out from within. Although the appendage appeared red and vacuous like a hologram, its stomping sent rippling vibrations through the ground as if it were denser than concrete.

“What the fuck is that?”

Dimitry fumbled for a vol pellet with a trembling hand. “I hoped you would know.”

A long neck emerged next, followed by another foot and a shell as big as the lodgings Dimitry snuck out of.

It was a carapaced devil.

Or was it? Pulsating goop slimed over and through its every crevice, giving the appearance of a sentient, systemic yeast infection.

“Propelia!”

An iron ball flew soundlessly out of Angelika’s rifle, cracking the massive beast’s shell. Red liquid leaked out from freshly formed chinks, staining the jet-black floor in its color. The damage didn’t do much. Slime plugged the gaps to stem the bleeding.

Although it had no eyes, Dimitry felt the building-sized monster’s stare when it turned its head towards him. Its simple mouth opened to emit a resounding screech.

“Is this normal for carapaced devils?” he yelled over it, taking a step back.

“Normal?!” Angelika rushed to load her weapon with another iron ball. “This is fucking insane. I don’t know what it is or where we are, but I’m going to kill it!”

The creature climbed out of the central compartment and charged towards them. Its massive stature did nothing to slow it down.

“Come on!” Angelika yelled, running perpendicular to the beast.

Dimitry dashed beside her. “Any ideas on how to kill that thing?”

“Not yet!”

The creature slid when it turned a corner, buying them precious time.

Survival instinct urged Dimitry forward, told him to escape, but there was nowhere to go. Blank walls surrounded them on all sides, and the beast’s footsteps gained speed.

Killing it was the only way to survive. However, to do that, he needed something strong, something that could break the beast’s carapace faster than the slime on its surface could repair the cracks. A voltech rifle wasn’t enough.

Or was it?

Dimitry knew that accelall sped up objects relative to their surroundings. Higher velocities meant stronger applied forces and impacts. Would it empower Angelika’s shots?

Only one way to find out.

He grabbed her hand.

“Now’s not the time!” Angelika blurted.

The stomping grew faster than two humans could outrun.

“Listen to me!” Dimitry said with labored breaths. “Shoot the heathen one more time!”

“We already tried that!”

“Just try again!” Hoping his plan would work, he focused all the vol burning through his circuits into Angelika. “Accelall!”

For a moment, the room around Dimitry swerved and twisted. It was the second time he used a powerful spell that night. Fortunately, testing preservia on rats and magic training aboard a ship prepared him for the strain.

Angelika rushed ahead at inhuman speed, pivoted, and aimed at the target chasing Dimitry. She uttered something high-pitched and unintelligible.

A blast boomed from her rifle and throughout the chamber.

Dimitry clamped his ringing ears shut. Did accelall increase the velocity of her bullets such that they broke the sound barrier? He glanced back.

Slime slithered across the heathen’s shell to plug a grapefruit-sized hole waterfalling red, holographic blood onto a jet-black floor. Before it could plug it, another resounding boom punctured another hole into its body.

Then another.

And another.

Despite the heathen coloring the ground it stomped over red with bodily fluids, its movement and stop-gap repairs only hastened. Angelika, on the other hand, slowed down. Her gun no longer roared as it did moments ago.

Was the heathen stealing accelall’s power?

It barged towards Angelika.

Dimitry gripped two smooth pellets. “Accelall!”

A combination of weakness and blindness resulting from feedback tripped him. When he recovered, the first vision to greet him was a beast charging at Angelika in slow motion. Dimitry had to reach her first. Fumbling for two additional pellets, he rushed towards his guard, grabbed her shoulder, and chanted what he hoped was the second to last spell that night.

“Accelall!”

Lava surged across his circuits and sent pulsating pain throughout his body. Ignoring the strangling sensation, Dimitry pressed his palms to his ears to prepare for what was to come.

Two muffled shots blasted in quick succession, followed by the prolonged rumble of a slowly crumbling weight.

Dimitry’s second bout of blindness abated.

Standing in front of him was a jet-black monolith. Although its sides no longer played host to sliding blue wisps, they revealed something new—a deep recess that a monitor with a knight’s emblem once covered.

Did they pass the trial?

“Dumitry!” a faerie with wide-open gold eyes shouted. Precious darted off of the shrine’s peak and onto Dimitry’s shoulder. “You’re finally back! Are you okay? Where’d you go? It’s freezing out here.”

“A… talking faerie?” Angelika muttered through heavy breaths. “Do we have to kill that too?”

“Don’t,” Dimitry said, dragging his feet forward. “She’s with me.”

“With you? What?”

“I promise I’ll explain everything later.”

Angelika sighed, dropped her rifle, and sat on a felled log. “Whatever. Fuck it. Anything’s possible after that.”

Precious tilted her head to the side, her golden ponytail brushing against Dimitry’s ear. “Did something happen to you and Big Mouth?”

“Yeah. Something happened.” Dimitry retrieved three golf-ball-sized orbs, one larger than the others, from the monolith’s recess. Why were there so many?

“Did it just call me Big Mouth?” Angelika glanced up. “I may be tired, but I have more than enough energy to wring its neck.”

“Big Mouth, why do you have to be so angry?”

“Don’t mind her,” Dimitry said. “Precious only annoys people she likes.”

“And you’ve been hanging out with it all this time?”

“Since before we’ve met.” Dimitry sat beside Angelika, holding a relic that looked like a white quartz golf ball in his hands. Unlike the one he received in Estoria, it didn’t show him a vision. Was it broken?

“What’s that?”

“It’s our reward for overcoming the trial, but I’m not sure what it does.”

Angelika held out her hand.

Dimitry dropped the dense object into her palm, which had slightly inflamed purple vessels just like his. “Remember, you promised not to tell anyone about what happened tonight.”

“Like anyone would believe me.” Angelika lifted the relic to her eye. “Myrmidons, shrines and trials, red glowing heathens, spells that make everything move slow, talking pests. There’s just too much to process.”

“I'm sure you have plenty of questions, and I'll answer them all.” Dimitry stood up and flapped open his cloak, into which Precious promptly flew. “For now, let’s get back before the aquatic demons notice we’re missing.”