BECMI Chapter 120 – Immediate Plans

Princess Brittabelle sat and sipped her wine for a few minutes, thinking over everything I had spoken of, the implications to herself and her people… and the way she was far enough away in time and space to not have to worry about being caught pondering things which should be above her.

“It occurs to me, Edge, that you do not have a great opinion of the Immortals,” she finally ventured.

“I do not,” I stated calmly. “I expect great things of beings greater than I. Unfortunately, I am repeatedly confronted with a great number of petty beings undertaking whimsical Immortal projects at scales greater than I, instead. They act like mortals who have precious few checks on their behavior, and even less risk of punishment for their actions.

“They can get away with anything they do, especially to mortals, and we have precious little to no recourse to do anything about it.” My eyes narrowed in disgust. “They are not held accountable for anything they do to us. I frankly find the vast majority of them extremely offensive, like children playing in a sandbox, tossing sand at one another, never minding that each handful is a thousand mortal lives lost and ruined by their idiocy.”

“And their conflicting aims and Projects endanger us, while most of them simply do not care, and merely wait to see what happens?” Belle asked slowly.

“We are also their ” I agreed.

She made the face everyone makes when someone is spying on them they don’t want to be. “And you believe Thaum, and Zanzyr, are going to come into conflict with others because of The Radiance...”

“Delpha does not know that Thaum caused the Day of No Magic, and that continued use of the Radiance will drain magic entirely. I think you can imagine the consequences if they find out.”

“Delpha?” Her eyes widened in alarm. “Surely they would not be so dangerous?”

“You have never done your research on the Empire of Delpha? It is not surprising, as magical beings tend to go to Delpha, and not come back to spread knowledge of it. The libraries of Zanzyr do have some travelogues which are very relevant. One of them had an interesting rumor which was widespread in Delpha, but is not widely known otherwise.” I considered her with deadly calm on my face. “One thousand Overmagi comprise the Grand Council of Delpha, with several dozen more waiting for membership, and they are an average age of two hundred and fifty years old.”

She stared at me in disbelief. “One thousand Overmagi?” she repeated slowly, doubt apparent on her face. “That, that cannot be true?” she asked falteringly.

There were less than a dozen Overmagi in the whole of the Siricilian Empire, and only one in all of Zanzyr!… and that one was the mortal form of Thaum, Grandmaster Jean-Arc himself!

“Three different journals spaced over a hundred years apart reported basically the same facts. Delpha is a full-blown advanced and highly-developed magocracy at least two thousand years older than Zanzyr, and it seems to have arrived here from another world some time in the thousand years before Siricil was founded. Rebelling against them was the impetus that created the Siricilan Empire, if you recall.

“If they find out Zanzyr and The Radiance are perpetuating the decline of magic here, they will fall upon Zanzyr and wipe it away to protect their livelihoods, and nothing short of Immortals acting will stop them… and there will be Immortals acting to stop the decline of magic, too.”

Belle’s fair skin was even paler than usual, almost as white as my own. “They could destroy Zanzyr without effort. The power to overcome them could destroy Zanzyr itself regardless!” she exclaimed.

“And it is likely that Corellin will be among those who wish The Radiance dealt with permanently.”

“And so He would make alliance with the Immortals of Delpha, which means open conflict with Siricil! A war of the empires would start again, with Zanzyr as the proxy, even if the Immortals don’t take action themselves!” She was not at all ignorant of political realities in her position.

“And they’ll throw your people against the rest of Zanzyr in pursuit of their goals, which will make you traitors to just about everyone. So, there will definitely have to be some steps taken for that not to happen.”

“Is this related to your trip down to the Palace of Gods?” she asked in a low voice.

“Very much so. I believe I am going to cure an alien captain of his madness, and initiate a much more peaceful and beneficial contact with them,” I confirmed.

“But if he is as unstable as that… technician we rescued stated, surely you will also be in great danger?” Belle asked me uneasily.

“I didn’t say I would be giving him a choice in the matter, did I?” I asked archly. She looked at me, then smiled slowly.

“No. No, you did not…”

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Technician Dani Saliaveli had been instrumental in attracting more defectors from the to Darkmoor. Rather than fleeing in random directions and being eaten by the improbably dangerous wildlife or coming into conflict with magically-adept primitives who could hand high-tech star travelers their heads in a fight, they were coming north to Darkmoor by various means, being met by soldiers trained to recognize them and told to help them, who guided them north to Darkmoor City and the university there… using pre-printed pamphlets to help!

Since we’d brought her north, a dozen other crewmen had drifted in, and seemingly more were on the way. One had even liberated one of the egg-shaped scout flitters and flown it all the way up to Darkmoor City, finding a landing zone clearly marked off for him to put the ship down in and Dani waiting to receive him with an honor guard when he opened the hatch.

I had a stop or two to make first.

“Cirru.”

The blue dragon hadn’t gotten very much done on her lair, given that from her perspective we’d only left ten minutes ago.

A bit startled at my sudden re-appearance, the blue dragon with her unique markings turned to look at me. “Mistress? You are done in the past already?”

“It’s been several months. I am heading to the south there. There are a great number of dragons there. I thought you might want to use it as a tempering experience.”

Her palest barely-blue eyes flicked over to . “There is a great deal of death gathered about you, Mistress…”

I let my eyes drift to the blackness of my Staff and its red-starred black gem, reflecting my own ruby eyes like an eye of death and judgment. “Genocide. I have wiped the Khirifi people from the Land. They were bringing in Soul Eaters to consume the spirits of the fallen. With their own slave-taking and slaughter of all who opposed them, I dealt unto them what they dealt out in turn. They didn’t take it very well.”

The dragon wasn’t quite sure of the extent of what that might mean, but also knew that merely grasping Mistress’ Staff would tell her in exquisite detail just what that might mean.

Her Mistress was ready and willing to wipe an entire people that offended her sensibilities from the face of the world. Cirruluxul was totally sure that would include dragons, too.

Where she was going there were going to be dragons. A different timeline, of no blood relation to hers.

She would be able to test and compare herself in the eyes of other dragons. And… grow a proper hoard, and the strength that came from it.

“I will come, Mistress.”

Duum, Cirru, and I shimmered into view on the main drive of Torford Abbey. No reason not to make a conciliatory visit to the monks here.

Cirru was in her dragon form, but simply remained there in place with Duum, looking about with curiosity and interest, even as alarm bells rang out at the sudden appearance of a dragon on the grounds.

Monks and clerics and lay folk came running, clutching holy symbols and shovels and hammers and the like, only to see me drifting up the drive towards them, completely undeterred by the tumult.

“Your Grace,” I greeted the head abbot, picking him out of the crowd, mostly by the gold trim to his robes and him actually swinging a glowing Mace about, ready for use.

“Lady Edge!” he called out in relief, looking past me and just sighing at the two mighty beasts behind me just ignoring all the panic about them. The fervent charge naturally faltered as they recognized me and Duum.

“I bring word, and a substitute altar for your nave.” My forward progress didn’t falter. “The word is that your brethren’s souls are freed of their damnation and released to their proper fates, the Soul Eaters who devoured them were slain, and your brothers’ noble spirits were sent on to their rewards.”

Awed gazes followed me as the monks parted before me while I drifted through them, clearly heading for the main hall of worship.

“Your Edict of Condemnation may stand, but it will largely prove unnecessary. The Khirifi have been annihilated. I have hounded them into the west, chased them back to their ancestral lands while I brought them down in vivus and fire, and Fed them to the Land.

“The Khirifi are no longer a threat to the North, or any others. The clans of the Korshwa hunt the few scattered remnants down as mercilessly as they treated all others. What survive of their slaves are being repatriated to the Duchy of Elb and Iberon, as they wish.”

Murmurs arose as the monks of the abbey turned to follow my slow drifting as I continued with Magevoice.

“The stone I bring is taken from the volcano that rises now where once their holy mountain and central temple of their faith once stood. The last of their nation were packed within, screaming for their depraved god to save them as their own Wards Burned and folded upon them, sacrificing them to the Land as their foul magic blazed with the wrath of Creation.

“Their bastard of a god watched the whole time and could do nothing to save them.”

The cheers were starting to rise as the doors to the nave opened before me.

“I will see you consecrate this monument to the countless slain, and the damned who were in turn sacrificed on the altar of their own arrogance!”

The Altar of Righteous Wrath was Consecrated that very hour, drinking in an entire barrel of wine and the flames that burned over it as the fruits of the reborn Torford Abbey’s labors blessed it and celebrated a victory and the redemption of their brethren.

They’d heard something of what had happened in the West, but not how everything had turned out. Now they found out, and the word would go out.

Those who played with the souls of others best be ready to pay the ultimate price for their deeds. Death dwelled in the North, and the ambitious better find another direction and release for their desires.

There was always plenty of death to go around.

The monks were enjoying a great drunken feast as I flew off on Duum’s back, heading in the general direction of Daffid the Red, acclaimed as the strongest Wizard in the North before my arrival. Technically, he wasn’t a match for Brittabelle, either, and definitely not for me, but his name and prestige still carried a lot of weight and influence.

He’d stayed mostly above the conflicts between human factions, especially the Iberon and Darkmoor civil war, although he was not at all friendly with the Khirifi, and the Korshwa clans gave him a wary respect… mostly because he dared to build his tower in the shadow of the Wyrmroosts and all the dragons who lived there, and the dragons very pointedly didn’t disturb him after some very significant losses.

I actually didn’t need to stop by the place, but it would be polite, especially given what I was going to be doing.