NOVEL NEXT Arc II Chapter 14
II
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Arc II Chapter 14
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18th Anima Lunar VIII AAC 753
Stairs, stairs, and even more stairs. Contrary to Lambert's expectations, the stairs proved to be not only a tedious obstacle, but also an insidious obstacle. His memory deceived him and made him forget the white pest. In his youthful exuberance, he had underestimated the white marble stairs. The climb was steep and long, but in the end, they had conquered the hill despite much panting and cursing.
While scouting the area, they encountered no notable opposition. The guild reports didn't lie, the area was safe. The Schwarzean knights were thorough and meticulous in their hunt. Few beasts survived their fury, but their numbers were negligible. As long as they didn't run into a full grown wyvern, he didn't complain. Nobody was interested in dancing with dragons, which was an encounter of the more unpleasant kind that he would gladly forego.
Lambert observed the floor, the scorch marks still visible. Heavy fighting took place near the main gate. Claws and magic, scales and steel clashed in the heat of battle, as slaughter ensued. Carcasses littered the ground. The dreaded wyvern was slain and her brood exterminated. Afterwards, their carcass were stripped of everything useful and their remains burned. Holy fire cleansed the place of the cursed draconian kin. Nothing should remain of them but ash.
“Michael, time to return. Iris and Rudolf are probably waiting for us. I imagine he is already grumbling.”
Michael raised his eyebrow. “This was a rather ... cursory reconnaissance mission. Shouldn't we investigate the arsenal too?”
“Unnecessary. Arwing informed me about the specifics of their archaeological expedition. They are interested in glyphs, inscriptions, stone tablets, and whatever. No idea about what our scholar friends are after, but they don't intend to breach the arsenal proper and explore the catacombs. Even our elven friends aren't that suicidal. As long as the basilica and the atrium are safe, we should be fine. The roaming beasts don't scare me. They pose no threat. We can deal with a few unruly bats and overgrown spiders.”
And slimes. He detested the brainless jellies. Vegetative gelatinous aether, a nuisance to deal with, true pests. Their acidic secretions ruined your attire.
“If you say so.” Michael sounded less convinced.
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Aurora and her doll were exploring Valentia, or rather what remained of Valentia. It wasn't much. The ruins were a testimony to past greatness, but beyond hollow stone and crumbled brick, they offered little. The past was the past, meanwhile the present looked gloomy.
Arwing told her about the grand splendour of the ancient Kingdom of Valentia before the Weltenbrand, about the unparalleled wealth and might that Valentia boasted, a true city of light made of gold and silver. Reality fell short, however. Arwing's tales of riches and treasures were nothing but empty lies.
Aurora grumbled. Arwing had deceived her. No treasures. No riches. No loot. Valentia might have been prosperous in the past, but not any more. Her exploration yielded neither gold, nor silver. The city rewarded her with worthless rubble and useless scrap metal. Her loyal doll uncovered an ancient spoon, yet the spoon was found to be in a deplorable state. Damaged, broken, ravaged by rust, the spoon was completely worthless and quickly discarded. Such a disappointment. Her finds displeased Aurora. This wasn't her definition of treasures. This was rubbish. This was junk.
As a consequence, her attention was shifted to the local architecture, the last bastion of interest. Her doll stumbled across a series of columns that elicited her curiosity. The marble pillars withstood the tooth of time after refusing to yield even in Valentia's darkest hours. Their imposing figures rose from amidst the sea of grey boredom. The pillars stood tall and proud in a last act of defiance.
Their style appeared to be distinctly Corinthian. Floral patterns decorated the ornate capitals with traces of withered silver and gold shimmering under the sun, and the vestiges of pigments lingered across their polished marble surface. The columns were erected to welcome foreign visitors, wary travellers, adventurers, soldiers, merchants. They were works of art, the product of skilled artisans who knew their craft.
Time passed, and the moment arrived for her to return. Her little excursion lasted longer than predicted, and Iris strictly forbade her from leaving the camp because the ruins were apparently dangerous. Aurora disagreed. Her observations didn't support Iris' notion.
On her way to the camp, an unexpected visitor appeared. Floating in the air, a tiny sphere of aether, most commonly identified as a will-o-wisp, blocked her path. Despite its meagre presence, the cuddly, fluffball of aether resisted her schooled glare.
The lightning sprite refused to budge, even sparking back at her in a display of defiance. “Zzzz.”
“I guess that's a no.” Aurora intensified her glare.
“Zzzz.”
Aurora moved right to circumvent her adversary. Unfortunately, the sprite countered her movement, intercepting her. Once again, her path was blocked.
...
...
...
Aurora moved left. The sprite followed her. “...”
Aurora moved right. The sprite followed her. “...”
Aurora moved left. The sprite followed her. “...”
...
...
...
Her eyes narrowed, as her patience was running thin. “You are doing this deliberately, aren't you?”
The culprit declined to answer. The sprite chose silence. “... ... ... Zzzz.”
Aurora crossed her arms. “Listen, my friend, it's unwise to provoke me. So get lost! Immediately!”
“Zzzzzzz.” The sprite was trembling. Its aetherial signature was oscillating in fear, yet the brave little fluffball of aether stood its ground, unwilling to retreat.
Aurora's eyebrow twitched. Such impertinence, such impudence, was unheard of. “My friend, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Your choice.”
“Zzzz.” No reaction.
A purple flame sprang forth from her palm, and a diabolical grin crossed Aurora's lips. “It seems you have made your choice. I hope you don't regret your decision ...”
The lightning sprite began sweating, but it wasn't alone. Help arrived. Its comrades in arms joined the fray. More sprites arrived to rescue their companion in need, much to her annoyance.
Aurora's mood worsened, and her eyes narrowed. More of them. “What are you trying to do now? You should know that numbers won't protect you ...”
The sprites took their chance. Capitalising on her distraction, they circled around her to hide behind her back.
“What?” Aurora blinked in confusion.
“Zzzzzzzzzzz.” The spheres cowered in fear, shivering, trembling behind her. The sprites were scared.
Yet Aurora glared at them. The sprites were messing with her, weren't they? “You little rascals, what are you doing ...”
The earth trembled before a cacophonous roar shattered any semblance of peace.
Driven by her instincts, her head turned in an instant. “What was this ...”
“RRRRRRrrrrrrrrr! RRRrrrrrr! RRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrr! ”A furious beast emerged from among the rubble, from below the surface. Sharp claws carved their way through earth and stone from the darkness of the underneath to the light of the day.
A raging wolf, one man tall, three men long, with fur blacker than the darkest night and glowering violet eyes, broke through the ground. A creature driven by insatiable bloodlust and insanity, blinded by rampaging fury, stood before her, baring his fangs at her with predatory glee and identifying her as his new prey. Her flesh would satiate his hunger.
The beast snarled, “RRRRRRrrrrrrrrr! RRRRRRRRrrrrrrrr!”
...
...
...
Aurora's confident smile faltered. This was a rather ... troublesome development.
Dread Wolf
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