Book 3 - Chapter 29 - Dinner is served early (Patreon)

Can we take a moment to talk about birds?

Yes, birds. That strange mythical creature which supposedly defied gravity by flapping wings and feathers. Those animals. Clan culture is filled with references to angels and birds as symbols, but the only actual birds we have living and breathing are chickens - and those clearly prove birds can’t fly.

For the longest time growing up, I was convinced this was some kind of running joke in the archives, and that birds weren’t real. Traders brought up older books filled with pictures of birds, some of them clearly soaring through the air and supposedly traveling at insane speeds. The entire time I was beyond skeptical about it.

I live in a world where cosmic mystical space magic is a thing, I can cast fireballs from my hand, my armor can bring back the memory of a long dead ghost, and there’s an entire group of people who are so famous for being unable to die, they were named Deathless - but I draw my suspension of disbelief at the notion that evolution could somehow finesse physics and get away with it this blatantly.

Animals can swim through water, fish prove it. But air is far too thin for any kind of animal to just swim through air. Ridiculous.

When I was younger I heard from a friend at some point that birds still existed - the kind that could fly - and were actually underground, in the Undersider cities. So I asked a pilgrim about it, and the man just seemed perplexed at how insistent younger me was about birds not being real. Yes, he confirmed, birds are real and they do fly.

No, he doesn’t have any pictures or video to prove it. Why not? Because birds were a natural part of Undersider lives to the point it’s mundane to them. Do I take pictures of every pipe rat I see? No. So why would he?

I couldn’t argue with that logic, but until I saw a bird flying through the air, I’ll remain skeptical about animals developing that ability.

It’s been quite a few years since I ever thought of birds other than seeing them as symbols for the impossible. Up until today, deep underground, as my knights and I camped under a massive tree filled with red leaves.

The mite caverns had started to grow and grow until they were no longer tunnels at all, but rather a large forest of trees stretching high up, with shimmering red leaves. Trees had been a very strange sight to me already, but given that the armor could protect me from any kind of wildlife, I wasn’t scared of being poisoned or that the plants would try to eat me.

And clearly all kinds of other animals had also grown used to these trees.

Far above the branches, hundreds of birds chirped and nested, making a racket. They didn’t make any move to escape when we got close to the base of the tree, nor did they seem to care about us at all.

None of the knights and I paid that much attention besides the first initial look of wonder at the tiny red chickens. I’d just already assumed these birds were like their chunkier cousins, except clearly agile enough to climb a tree and hop around. So had all the other knights, as we got settled in for another night underground.

Thus far, since the last blast door we passed, the region had lacked any kind of machine encounter. As if the whole place had been cleaned up, or that they’d all given up on controlling this land.

While I wasn’t sure what was the cause, the lack of machines turned out to be more of a setback. Those encounters had given the knights and I some good hands-on training with the dome fractal that now covered our entire armors head to toe, making us look like walking cracked ceramic armors when the fractals were lit to life.

Some fractals were geometric. Others looked like a child had been given a pencil and told to scribble a line in every direction. The dome fractal was the latter, with no discernible pattern. So etching it all over our armors made them look like they’d taken thousands of small cuts in a blender.

Besides that aesthetics, the dome fractals worked out well. During testing, the user needed only to spear out a soul tendril into the fractal nearest to the oncoming attack, and trigger it fully from the more dormant state. And with enough practice, we could have a few dozen soul tendrils stretched out across the armor, connecting to all the shield fractals.

I always felt like my soul had a natural round shape while nestled into the soul fractal, and being stretched out, twisted up into the Winterblossom technique, in addition to sprouting out a few dozen roots all over the armor, made me feel more like some kind of slime monster stuck inside the armor. The Occult was really gods damned weird. But can’t argue with the results.

And talking about strange physics defying events, I got to see birds. One moment, the group and I were spending time gathering materials to cook our meal, and the next moment something spooked all the birds in the tree.

And they leaped out like a hundred red leaves floating into the air, if only for a moment before purpose carried them away. Like some kind of invisible wind blew through the swarm of birds, they twisted and dived and moved with each other. A red sheet of shimmering feathers and chirps, casually defying gravity.

The group and I stared at the birds as they flew around us. Sometimes the swarm split up, a few isolated birds flying off for a moment before joining back in, like droplets of water kicked up from a splash, inevitably returning back to the main body.

They soared away, flying as one whole, to another distant tree.

It was a magical sight that reminded me there really was a first time for everything. The stories of angels with wings, transcending the mortal earth and leaving behind all of the old hatreds felt that much closer. I had to see it to believe in it, and here it was before me, proof that life finds a way, even in the strangest ways.

We traveled through that forest for another day and a half, before the scenery and trees faded away back into rock granite, this time looking like closely stacked pillars, each with six sides. Hexagons, rising up in the dozens, of various sizes, all made of stone without a single bit of moss or life anywhere to be spotted.

It was an utter change of environments the mites had setup. The cavern ceiling was once again visible, and this time there was no artificial sunlight at the top. Instead, everything around felt dead once more.

A feeling of dread settled on our shoulders as we traveled through this section of mountainous terrain.

We didn’t need to travel far before I found out exactly where this feeling had come from.

Turning around a corner, we entered a rather large clearing, to which a small group of people were waiting patiently there. Five Chosen knights, standing stock still with weapons drawn.

And at their front, lazily sitting on one of the hexagonal chair sized pillars, was none other than To’Aacar himself.

He looked a bit better compared to the last time I fought him. His spear was back in one piece, and given that he’d portaled off without the scraps the last time, I’d take a good guess this was a replacement. The rest of his body looked functional, albit seriously torn apart. That one malevolent violet eye was staring right at me.

He cracked his neck to the side, back and forth, rolling his shoulder, before standing back up off his seat. As if he had to deal with things far below his paygrade but still needed to make a show of it.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” I said, taking a step forward while the rest of my knights drew arms.

“I don’t have time to entertain you.” The Feather started without any preamble. “Surrender, give me the information I seek, and I’ll let you leave. There are greater matters I need to deal with than you, as of now. Consider yourself lucky.”

I brought out my own weapons, the knightbreaker on my left hand and Cathida’s longsword on my right. “No, I don’t think I will.”

The Feather all but spat to his side. “You’re a side attraction at best. Don’t push your luck, Winterscar.” He lifted the speartip and pointed it right at me. “The sooner I deal with this farce, the sooner I can return to handling the real threats. And don’t think I haven’t already spotted the larger group trailing behind you, I’m taking care of them as I speak. I have my own pet humans here to deal with you gnats.”

Ah. So that’s why there were only five Undersider knights at his side and not the full number. The rest are out fighting somewhere nearby.

I’ve had my hunches that the clan lord had sent out an elite group of knights as an ambush when the Chosen latched onto the bait that I was. And given the lack of machines these last few days, these knights have been lurking around the area for some time, setting up the stage here. Fits the reasoning why the clan lord ordered me to delay my departure. They needed to be sent out first.

So the good news in all this was that if To’Aacar had already sent out a large swath of his Chosen knights against the clan lord’s elite picks in a counter-ambush, it’s no contest. “You really haven’t done your due diligence.” I said. “Your men are already dead. You basically sent them to their graves.”

The spear twirled in his left hand, igniting. “Oh? Amusing. My new conscripts are very much still alive and winning, last I checked.”

“You’re bluffing. Chosen knights can’t match surface knights.”

He smiled then, a wide malicious grin, filled with malice. “I’ve learned interesting things about your so-called relic armors in the past few days you took to get here. Urs locked them up so tightly just to protect them from someone like me, but the human inside? The nervous system? No hardlocks, or encrypted defense in that wet meatwear you call a mind.” The spear went to his side, as if sending a command, and one of the Chosen knights shambled forward. “All I had to do was take control from the inside out.”

I knew right from the first step that something was wrong. The way the knight moved, like a… like a puppet.

Oh. Oh, that’s not good. “You’re controlling them, directly?”

Okay, so that’s why he’s so confident that these knights could stand against my own.

“Recent events have forced my hand. Events that I have you to blame for. I found myself needing an army that I could trust would never turn on me. I saw what you did to your pet armor, and thought it was a good idea to borrow.” He laughed again, his working arm stretching out. “I didn’t care to involve myself besides the bare minimum at the start. You were just one measly little human, so out of their depth no amount of handicap would make it fun to kill. But you just had to make this personal. You have no context to fully understand exactly who you stand before, but my titles were earned.”

The single violet eye outright twitched, and I saw a shadow of something briefly float through his features. “In the fratricide, only the strongest survived.”

“I have no idea what the Fratricide is, but given the name, I’m guessing the gods had a hang up with one another and split ways?”

“If only it were so simple.” To’Aacar said, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that there’s something I need to prevent from happening again at all costs, and you are a loose end I need to wrap up.” The spear swung down, and his stance took a slight crouch. “Now, give me what I want. Or shut up, and die quickly.”

Well. Knowing that all these chosen knights behind him were potentially as fast and as skilled as he was, even if it’s only a fraction of his skill, that put a rather large question mark on living. Normally, heroes are supposed to fight against the enemy at all times right? Well, there’s another saying: Discretion is the better part of valor.

I wasn’t here to fight To’Aacar. Or hunt down the Chosen either. I was here for my sister. And what happened in the bunker was only a few back and forth questions of no real importance, mostly Atius shaking down Tsuya for all she’s worth. 

Would it really be a mistake to tell the Feather? Get him out of my hair for good? I didn’t need to tell him about Cathida’s personal mission before she died, or what she was carrying with her. And strictly speaking, I could probably omit the audio recording part guiding me to Talen’s spell record. Journey had long ago purged that, and was specifically hardwired to ignore its existence. I could technically give him the logs without having to worry about the spellbook being uncovered.

But the moment I put my cards on the table, there’s no telling what would happen next.

"Cahtida," I whispered. "Would you stop me if I folded to his demand?" 

The armor replied instantly. "Cathida herself? The old bat absolutely would. You're basically betraying the goddess here, that's highest level of heresy. Journey however only cares about keeping you alive. It's rather hopeful that you do give up here, best odds of survival. But relic armors don't make decisions for their owners, they just deal with the fallout." 

"You think he won't try to kill me?" 

"I haven't the foggiest idea on that, deary. Neither does Journey. The machine does look like he's pressed for time and we're a roadblock with teeth to him."

Well, why not ask him directly then if he’s in such a negotiating mood? I raised my voice back up. “If I tell you, what’s to stop you from just killing me on the spot?”

The Feather tutted, spear lifting slightly. “Coming to your senses? Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. For your inquisitive little mind to know, I don’t need you alive in the first place. I anticipate killing you will take at least an hour or two, depending on how stubborn the lot of you are. Any other day, I’d have all the time in the world to play around. Not anymore. Fighting you comes with an opportunity cost to me. One I'd rather not pay right now.”

“Look, if you kill me, you’ll never know what happened in the bunker, so why exactly are you saying you don’t need me alive in the first place?” Did he have some kind of brain hacking technology where he only needed my head in one piece to grab what was in it? That was rather morbid.

“Your sister was in that broken down shell of a fortress, she must have seen everything you have.” He leaned casually on the spear, “I've discovered that my own dear little sister has... omitted quite a bit from her reports, now that I look more closely into it all. Family, eh? Always the sword hanging over your head. I could kill you where you stand and still have a second chance at completing my mission, all thanks to your sister.”

The reality that I might actually die settled on my shoulders and nearly froze me.

To’Aacar, right arm limp, eye gouged out, legs and body shredded and hardly repaired. Somehow, instinct told me that even with all these handicaps, he was still more than capable of squashing me into the floor, armor and all if he went one on one against me. Worse - he effectively had five copies of himself controlling the Chosen knights. I wasn’t sure exactly how much of his skills were passed through, or how effective the knights were, but the prick certainly seemed confident he could take me and my knights on.

Rationally, sometimes the best move is to simply swallow up pride and fold if it meant living to the next day. Would he simply let us go on our way into the Undersider city without any other trouble? If he went after me, that meant my sister was a harder target to pick, which means she was well and alive inside the city - or he was bluffing completely and she was already dead.

I turned to look at Sagrius who stood wordlessly at my side. His own helmet met my gaze, slowly and with calm. No words were spoken, but somehow I knew exactly where he stood. If I chose to try and fight a god, he would be swinging a sword at my side. If I picked to fall back and retreat, he’d be there to carry me out if it came down to that.

The rest of the Winterscar knights behind him gripped their swords, ready in stance for whatever order I gave. We had the knightbreakers, the new swords with matching techniques, and all of us covered our armors with the shield fractal. Each of my knights could take on at least five times the punishment a normal knight could handle with that single fractal alone. I had Cathida, with all her merged combat skills and my own spells as a sorcerer to supplement her. If all went wrong, we could even overclock the armor with the administrator permissions I had access to in a last ditch attempt to win. 

I didn't have the advantage of surprise this time, but every other possible advantage I could call on was right here with me. That was the only reason To'Aacar even offered the chance to walk away. 

I'm still a threat, and even he wasn't arrogant enough to deny that.