Chapter 311: The Mechanic’s Floating Anvils Fly

Sundenelle listens patiently to the petitioners speaking at the Imperial Audience. Most of the matters regard the new trade routes to replace Urflasdat for the foreseeable future, the sudden spike in costs due to this detour, and the need to inform all other territories of the supply-chain issues. It’s more of the same, honestly, since they started addressing much of this from the moment the damage of the mana fire was truly understood and the mana fire itself was brought to a close. Because of the ‘No-man’s Zone’ to the southeast of the mana fire’s crater, where the wind was carrying some of the fallout, this has greatly increased delays and the potential for problems on the road.

It’s an open discussion at present, since the nobles are knowledgeable about their own territories, where applicable, so finding the best compromises to solve the trade issues has been a balancing act each and every week since the loss of Urflasdat.

Some trade is returning to Urflasdat, but because of the damage to the city, it won’t be back to full capacity for years, potentially.

The young Empress glances to a specific corner of the multi-tier audience chamber. She once entered from the upper seating area, which is intended for passive audience members, when she was making a dramatic entrance during the Imperial succession.

There, on the second level and towards the back, a middle-aged shenwulf man is quietly taking notes.

The pieces are in place… Where are you, Yaulander?

Sundenelle feels a little anxious. She’s terrified that the attempts to save Baelok will fail the longer everything takes. The days are adding up, meaning the only chance will be her own mother, and whether or not the Fievegal can provide enough bodies willing to do so in order to save one life.

Maybe we should just call it done… thinks the albino Empress to herself, keeping her composure stoic and icy. But, there’s too much that we could make use of his knowledge on. Had he been readily available, I’m sure he could have been more helpful on the mana fire… Not to mention the Fellmother. If Cheshyret’s account is accurate, then he was slain because he mentioned it unwittingly, so it’s unlikely that Baelok is one of them, right? Ugh… So much to think about… And, all for one person.

Sundenelle is just about to intervene when the conversation about trade through one of her Count’s territories is escalating over his tax rates. But, before she can, the doors burst open with a commotion. Armored knights enter just inside, putting the main guard unit, Ecklevon, and Larven on immediate defense. However, Yaulander breaks through the crowd, announcing loudly, “Forgive this sudden arrival, your Majesty! Your men attempted to stop me, but the report I have to make absolutely cannot wait.”

Sundenelle feels relief for a moment, though she can’t let it be apparent. She stands up calmly, which brings the entire chamber to a silent halt, and everyone, including Yaulander and his guards, all kneel. She scolds the Grand Prince, projecting her voice with practice as well as the magic amplification of the chamber, “Grand Prince Yaulander kos Strylaph. Your arrival is quite late to be attempting to barge into this audience. If you intended to be a part of it, you should have sent word ahead sooner or ensured that you made it on time.”

“Forgive me, your Imperial Majesty,” replies Yaulander just as sincerely as before. “But, this news could not wait, nor could it be presented by anyone other than myself. Circumstances prevented me from providing proper notice.” He gestures his hand over his shoulder, and a handful of young men walk in carrying a bier that holds a body draped in cloth. Even so, the cloth is noticeably stained with blood in various distinct spots, while two mages enter. Preservation devices do work well, but generally require enclosure.

Sudnenelle knows exactly what Yaulander is doing. Even if the only piece of information that she had prior to this day was that Baelok is dead, bringing his body in via this manner is explicitly for the maximum shock factor. Yaulander knows he is unlikely to be killed, even if he storms the Palace the way he has, because his own authority is so high. But, it would be dramatic nonetheless.

And, he gets his desired result. Gasps, cries of anguish, and even a few ladies who swoon in their seats or where they were kneeling.

Klommen, who was seated at the back of the second level, has since jogged forward to look over the edge and see the events with his own eyes. He is shocked alongside the others, while someone calls out, “Is that Archmagus Baelok!?”

“How can this be!?”

“Who did this!?”

Sundenelle doesn’t need to fake her own horror. Knowing about it was one thing, but seeing so many wounds, even if they are currently obscured by the cloth, is absolutely shocking. The young men bearing the bier carry it to the center of the audience hall where it can be seen by the entire chamber, and Yaulander approaches as he calls out to try to get everyone’s attention, “It’s true! The Archmagus, the highest ranking sorcerer in the Empire and the Director of the Imperial Institute of Magery!” Yaulander yanks the fabric away, which reveals the Archmagus in full. His arms are folded across his chest, but he has many wounds that almost look like arrow punctures, but the entire top surface of the bier contains dried blood.

Yaulander declares, “Archmagus Baelok, one of our best and wisest members of the Empire, has been slain.”

There are more gasps and discordant talk with outcries of anger mixed in. Sundenelle’s heart hurts seeing it, but she has to believe that something can be done. If Yaulander gets his way, the war will shift from ‘the demons’ to the Fievegal, and it will never end until Daniel is forced to exterminate everyone that opposes him, or the entire Lawson family is killed instead.

Because, if Daniel is the only one to die, it won’t be a war. It will become the apocalypse.

Yaulander makes his formal accusation after stoking the flames of anger, “This heinous act of slaughter was carried out by none other than an assassin employed by the Fievegal, forever silencing one of the foremost chances we have to keep up with their tyrannical shows of force!”

This causes a near eruption of anger and rage in the audience chamber. Even Sundenelle can feel the anger and emotions swirling in her own chest as she watches people yell, shout, demand justice, and condemn the Fievegal. She expected all of this, of course, since it’s all part of the plan. But, seeing it in reality, feeling the energy of the emotions erupting in the audience hall, and knowing that there’s some undeniable onus on the Fievegal’s high-ranking members for allowing this situation to arrive in the first place all coalesces into a turmoil in her own heart.

Some part of her is angry that Daniel still seems to trust Doephluev, and hasn’t had her imprisoned other than ‘confined to quarters’. Though this is essentially the treatment the former Empress and Themihk’s elder brother Porfaus are receiving, Doephluev still has as much relative freedom as she had anyways, since she rarely left the Citadel anyways since becoming noticeably pregnant.

But, that’s a problem to address when Sundenelle’s own voice equals or exceeds Doephluev’s, not while she’s still an outsider.

And, she has a much bigger issue to deal with at present, since punishing Doephluev wouldn’t bring back Baelok, and normally, it would be impossible. The only chance they have is a major gamble due to how long it has been.

Sundenelle holds up her hand, calling out, “Calm yourselves!”

Duke Walliskah shouts, “Order in the Imperial Chamber!”

The uproar slowly dies down as everyone returns their attention to Sundenelle, who is holding her hands up to try to dull the roar enough to speak at least. “This is a tragedy the likes of which the Empire may never recover from,” states Sundenelle seriously. “To lose Archmagus Baelok at this time is a severe wound to our scholarly fields, as much as our future.”

Some of the aristocrats cry out about the Fievegal and condemning the betrothal, but Sundenelle reiterates, “Please be silent, my Imperial citizens. I understand your rage, but these are very serious accusations to levy against any nation, particularly one that represents a significant threat to the Empire if we are to turn our blades against them. Grand Prince Yaulander, you and the Strylaph family have long been the Empire’s strongest supporters, so I’m sure you know the importance of what I must ask next in order to ensure we do not act in haste where mistakes of the same like have already been made.”

Sundenelle lets this point hang over the audience chamber, since she was rather hands-off when the Empire-backed attack on the Citadel took place, resulting in an embarrassing defeat that showed how impenetrable the Citadel is, and without causing any significant casualties that weren’t the fault of the Empire’s march in the first place.

Yaulander, as usual, is a master of Imperial etiquette, respect, and most importantly, hiding his actual thoughts and plans. He bows his head politely, saying, “Of course, your Imperial Majesty.”

“Then I shall ask, your Highness; what evidence do you have to support this accusation that the Fievegal was involved with the murder of Archmagus Baelok?”

“It pains me to say that the assault was sudden and brutal, and the wounds are severe, caused by the demon wands and demon staves common in the Fievegal. Further, we were able to capture the apparatus of this egregious assassination.” He gestures again, and another pair of men walk in, carrying a smaller bier to add dramatic effect to the fact that the only thing on the platform of the ceremonial carrier is a metal hand-shape that could pass for a simple knight’s gauntlet, but the design is definitely not Imperial. And, Sundenelle recognizes it because she has seen Cheshyret when Daniel forced him to apologize to her for the failure that led to Baelok’s death.

That’s Cheshyret’s! I thought he was able to escape with his… No… he didn’t get all of the parts, did he?

Sundenelle is rattled by the sight. Yaulander having a weak position to argue from was part of their original advantage. To overcome the evidence, they need to defeat the claims that one of the Fievegal’s golems was the agent of the attack. But, he has a hand that will not be a piece of armor meant for a person, but instead, a sort of armor that moves itself.

Yaulander explains to the Imperial audience, “I know this looks like a mere soldier’s gauntlet, which could undeniably belong to any man here, myself included. However, this is the detached hand of a golem that attacked my estate. Using advanced magic found only in the Fievegal, this golem was able to launch a multi-prong attack against my troops while it tracked down the Archmagus and assassinated him.”

Members of the audience gasp and murmur, and Yaulander continues, “I submit this evidence to the Imperial Court, and welcome our wisest investigators and mages to observe the hand for themselves to confirm that it is no mere piece of a suit of armor.”

Sundenelle is a bit worried, and she glances at Klommen, who is scribbling everything down as fast as he can. She can’t withdraw his role in her plan, but Cheshyret’s hand being captured by the Grand Prince was outside of her expectations.

“What of the weapon, your Majesty?” asks Duke Walliskah. “You said Archmagus Baelok was slain by a demon wand, yes?”

“Indeed,” replies Yaulander. “When the body is inspected, you will clearly find the residual alchemy powder and shards of metal consistent with the creatures slain by Fievegal weapons, some of which have found their way onto the market. Regrettably, it seems there is some kind of safety magic built into the weapons, as it was able to teleport away with the main body. This hand was left behind because it was still detached at the time. But, you will also find that there is residual alchemy powder on the hand from when it was using the demon wand.”

Sundenelle sighs. “Very well. I shall draft a formal condemnation and a demand for counter-evidence before a formal trial will begin. In the meantime, we shall host an Imperial Funeral for Archmagus Baelok to honor his long service to the Empire.”

Yaulander smiles solemnly as he bows. But, Sundenelle asks, “Your Highness, has preservation magic been applied to Master Baelok since he was slain?”

“As soon as his body was discovered, your Majesty,” replies the Grand Prince with absolute confidence and apparent sincerity.

“Very good. Thank you for bringing this matter to our attention, your Highness. You were certainly correct that it was of the utmost importance, though I would advise you to use a more respectful approach to getting the message to me. That said, the Empire will cease all unauthorized direct interactions with the Fievegal until a formal reply has been provided. Focus on the funeral services and preparations to honor the late Archmagus. We shall seek out the full truth of this matter and find justice for the honorable and wise Archmagus. For now, We shall adjourn this gathering.”

Sundenelle rises, and everyone else follows suit. Just before she leaves, though, the Grand Prince calls out, “Your Imperial Majesty, if I may…”

“Yes, your Highness?” replies the Empress.

“Forgive me for bringing up yet another matter at such a tumultuous time, but… I believe it would be wise to address your personal guard for the safety and security of the Empire. At least during the investigation, if it turns out that the total evidence that I have proves to be insufficient to reveal the truth.”

Sundenelle pauses, and she looks at Larven, the dragon. He is standing by patiently, giving now indications of offense or anger at the accusation. She asks seriously, “Sir Larven. You are a loyal knight of the Fievegal, and your honor has not yet been in question. As you have heard, We have evidence of grave offenses against the Empire allegedly committed by the Fievegal that must be investigated. We will have to remove you from the Imperial Guard. We ask that you do not contest this decision.”

Larven bows his head politely. “Though I have been sent as your personal guard on the orders of his Majesty, I understand the situation and shall comply, your Imperial Majesty. At your word, I shall return to the Fievegal.”

“I would advise, your Majesty, that Sir Larven be sequestered to controlled quarters until the investigation completes. The charge is very serious, your Majesty.”

Sundenelle looks at the blond man for a moment, deep in thought. Larven says nothing. He simply awaits her response.

She finally replies, “If it is determined that the Fievegal had a hand in this assassination, I would not want a dragon to already be in the heart of the Imperial Capital, let alone the Palace.” She then faces Larven, saying seriously, “Sir Larven, you are dismissed. I ask you to return to Fievegal territory without resistance, and to advise her Greatness Hekate that a thorough and fair investigation will take place. We will also be requesting the presence of the Empress or one of her delegates to answer for these allegations to help speed along the process.” She then looks at Yaulander, asking, “Do you object to these mandates, your Highness?”

Yaulander places his hand over his heart and bows his head. “Yours is the will of the Heavens, your Imperial Majesty. Mine is the duty to ensure there are no secrets from you within the Empire.”

The albino Empress manages to avoid rolling her eyes or getting angry. It’s almost a blatant lie before any of the suspicions regarding Yaulander arose. Sundenelle has many secrets and lies that she has to maintain, because a royal capital is a den of rats and vipers. The only way to survive is to obscure one’s own weaknesses using

the tactics of rats and vipers, while drawing a line and maintaining dignity overall.

“I do not yet distrust the Fievegal, but I have known you for a very long time, your Highness, so I shall take these allegations seriously. Please bring all evidence forth to the special investigators and the Imperial Council to be convened tomorrow morning. Archmagus Baelok will be interred in the Imperial Crypt to be looked after until the funerary rites can be carried out. Imperial Court is adjourned.”

With that, she dismisses everyone and leaves the room, with Larven following only long enough to excuse himself.

Though, almost as soon as the dragon flies away, a note appears on her office desk that gives her a great deal of relief. It is written in English, and it says simply, “[Don’t worry.]”

Sundenelle smiles, and she writes on the same note, “[Thank you.]”

She feels a hand on her shoulder, while Ecklevon is on her left and too far away, and though she can’t reach up to thank him again, she is absolutely relieved to know that her personal dragon won’t be leaving her alone while Yaulander’s golem doppelganger of Zuzia is somewhere in the Palace. The golem should not act against her, because it’s controlled by the Fievegal. But, given what Baelok was apparently working on with Cheshyret, if his subordinates and colleagues managed to discover the Zuzia copy, it’s possible they could seize control.

A note from the source: this text was copied without approval from where the author publishes, and reading that chapter supports them.

We’ll have to be even more careful at this point, thinks Sundenelle. He obviously kept his own firearms under wraps, but that is unsurprising. It gives him an advantage even over the elite Imperial troops.

Sundenelle massages her temples. Even if things are still mostly according to plan, it’s still stressful. And, she makes one more realization.

I should undergo Aramellianna’s training to use a pistol for myself… Why haven’t I requested that sooner? Ugh… So much to do, and I still have an Empire to run.

The snow-haired Empress leans into her desk in order to prepare for the funeral. The more people in attendance, the better, and they’ll definitely need to ensure that as many priests are present as possible. ‘Holy magic’ isn’t well-understood, other than it’s largely believed to fall into the ‘light magic’ category, but it is known to work well in purifications of curses and other more sinister spells and poisons. It’ll be the first thing they need upon the success of the ‘ritual’ in order to confirm that Baelok actually comes back.

Or, if it’s all a farce, to clarify whether or not Sundenelle has chosen the correct side at all.

***

The moment is upon them. Zuzia is stretching while Senn and Serrentuk work together to prepare their own spell. They didn’t have an explicit ‘synchronize’ spell, but they’re working to combine some features of other spells to create one, since it very much is similar to the dream-sharing spell that Yaulwembor can use with such ease. Magnir and Jeavana are facing off against each other in a peculiar kind of battle.

The two dragons have their foreheads pressed together with their mouths open, exhaling continuously with a slight growl to the exhale. A vibrant amber-yellow liquid is running down their chins from their lower jaws, dripping onto the ground with an unspoken danger as noticeable vapors swirl between their mouths. Roetta is looking after their egg nearby, watching the two dragons as they perform this somewhat immature face-off.

According to Roetta, the game is meant to be representative of who would win in a pure, literal firefight because it shows who has the better breath control and lung capacity. The liquid dripping from their mouths is their condensed venom, while the vapors clash between. Whoever coughs or pulls away first loses the game, since another dragon’s venom apparently irritates the soft membranes of the nose and lungs, even if the dosage from the vapors alone isn’t toxic to the dragons.

Or, so they say.

“Mukori, if you lose to her, I’m naming our child after Jeavana.” Roetta gently rubs her egg happily, since hers should be hatching any day now.

Magnir has to resist the urge to laugh, but the same is true of Jeavana, since she’s the other half of the joke.

Zuzia asks Daniel, “Aren’t you going to cheer for your newest ‘Mukori’, Daniel?”

The mechanic looks at the two, replying dryly, “Eh, she’s doing fine.”

Jeavana’s eyes briefly scowl at him, but she stays focused on her long breath. They’re allowed to inhale and keep going, as long as they don’t cough, use magic, or pull away from their opponent, so until one of the two things happen, the challenge will continue.

Magnir and Jeavana wheeze at around the same time, squeezing out the last of their breaths, and they both simultaneously draw in a fresh breath.

Jeavana’s eyes are noticeably watering, but she doesn’t yet cough as the growling exhale continues. Though, both dragons sound a little more rough just from that one inhale.

Hekate approaches, staring at Daniel with big eyes. “She’s really pretty, isn’-...”

The mechanic palms Hekate’s forehead and shoves her gently away, saying, “Come on, Hekate…”

“I told you, I’m not going to sleep with him! Ever! Unless that’s all we’re doing because circumstances force us; sleeping. Nothing else.”

Hekate is just starting to whine at Daniel as he’s interrupting her, “Hey!” But, as she pulls Daniel’s hand out of the way, she glowers at Zuzia with fiery eyes. “How did you know I was talking about you, then, huh, Zuzia!?”

“Because that’s all you ever worry about, Ma?a! It’s all you ever freak out about! Frankly, you could stand to worry more about makeup and split ends and whether or not you look good in stripes!” Zuzia holds Hekate by the biceps and lifts her, shaking her gently as she keeps complaining. “You’re too cute to be so obsessed with one guy! Complain about the vegetables in your meals and that you want to go to school! Or… Academy… Whatever it’s called here! Daniel! Make an academy for this little cinnamon roll! Immediately!”

All the while Hekate is squirming against Zuzia and kicking her feet and flapping her tail in futility, whining, “Hey! Stop! Zuzia! Put me down! Betrayer! Zuzia the Betrayer! Graah!”

Daniel, also ignoring the plight of his raven-haired companion, replies to Zuzia, “Nah, we’re two-hundred chapters too early for an academy arc.”

“Pfft! Like you’d be the student, ‘Mister Main Character’.” She snickers and sets Hekate town, and the feldrok teen immediately starts bopping Zuzia with her small fists, not putting any real strength behind it, but making sure the brunette knows of her wrath.

The fox-eared girl points at Zuzia and says, “Daniel is the only thing in the world irreplaceable to me, so of course I’m going to worry he’s going to be stolen away! I know I can beat everyone else in fight, including Jeavana…!”

The timing is coincidental, since Daniel can see the tears streaming down Jeavana’s face as she continues exhaling. It’s the tail end of the second breath, with the two dragons relatively evenly-matched. And, the golden dragon starts coughing, flinching back as she drops to her hands and knees, her tail drooping in defeat as Magnir cheers! “Haha! Yes!” His voice is raspy, and he immediately starts coughing as well. Even so, he manages to jog to Roetta, and he carefully takes their shared egg to cradle it as he says facetiously with his gravelly voice. “See that, my child? Your father is a mighty warrior.” He coughs off to the side while Roetta waves away the scent of the clashed vapors of their venom. “Don’t get your venom on the egg, Mukori. Go wash your mouth and your face off.”

Magnir grins triumphantly, and he says warmly, “This means I get to pick both names, right?”

The pink dragon smirks and looks to the side. “Yes, that is only fair. You were victorious after all, my precious Mukori.”

Meanwhile, as Daniel, Zuzia, and Hekate approach Jeavana, the golden dragon instantly clings to Daniel’s shin when he’s in range. “Forgive me, Mukori! I’ve dishonored you!”

Hekate growls as she crosses her arms, and Daniel crouches and pets Jeavana’s head, which seems to surprise the voluptuous blonde. She looks up at him, and he says, “Yes, yes. There, there, Mukori. You tried your best. Hekate probably distracted you.”

“Hey!” snaps Hekate with a scowl, while Zuzia snickers.

Jeavana’s eyes water in grateful happiness. “Mukoriiii! Kiss me!” Jeavana tries to all but literally climb up Daniel towards his face, and he recoils back. He knows the smell of dragon venom, and in high enough concentrations, the vapors would be toxic to him, most likely.

Suddenly, she’s yanked back by the tail, yelping as she falls off of Daniel and slides cross the ground. “He-!”

“You idiot!” snaps Geirahoel as she holds Enya in one arm and the other drags her golden elder back. “Your entire face and mouth are drenched in venom! It’s not magic, you fool! Are you trying to kill him!?” Enya laughs as she watches Jeavana struggle against her auburn-haired junior.

“Oh… S-Sorry…” pouts the battle-junkie when she realizes she’s not in real danger. “I was careless.”

“Idiot,” blurts out the orange dragon as she releases Jeavana. She then approaches and kisses Daniel without any shred of hesitation or shame.

Daniel greets her, “Hey, Mukori. Looking good.”

“Ugh…” grumbles Zuzia as she shakes her head. “Come on, Maleńka. Let’s go test swing these hammers.”

For her part, Geirahoel watches the two walk away, but she replies, “Thank you, Mukori. But, be careful. The three of us have always been careful not to expose you to our venom. If this one is going to be ‘careless’…”

“I was going to push her back when the vapors hit me,” replies Daniel. “But, thank you for looking out for me.” He lets out a slight cough, and everyone pauses.

“Sorry, this much isn’t bad… Just a touch of the vapor…”

Geirahoel scowls at Jeavana, and the blonde gives an uneasy glance to Daniel. He smiles. “Guess you’ll just have to get stronger than Magnir for next time.”

She smiles and relaxes, while Geirahoel sighs. She turns back to Daniel, offering Enya to him. He cradles her for a moment, and the dragon happily paws his face when he holds her to kiss her belly. The tiny dragon makes cute squeaks and growls as she tries to bite Daniel’s face, but her mouth can’t find purchase on his left cheek yet, and her claws aren’t strong enough to break skin, thankfully.

He asks, “So, what brought you out here? I do think we’ll want to minimize spectators, just in case something goes wrong.”

“Yes. I’ll be returning shortly. But, we got a message from Onii-chan. That stupid fool of a human made his move. Also… Commander Leiwelles will be arriving tomorrow.”

Daniel winces slightly. They requested Leiwelles’s assistance with interrogating Doephluev. A part of Daniel doesn’t want to find out the truth, since he knows she made the clandestine decisions she did exactly for what she said; because Daniel never would. He has good reasons to have not made those choices, but hers are reasonable for removing a problem as swiftly as possible. But, they also need to know if she’s telling the truth about her interactions with Thymeria and where her loyalties lie.

Daniel reaches into his jacket’s inner chest pocket, withdrawing a document. “Here… These are the questions I intended to ask her. I will recuse myself from her interrogation if all of you collectively agree to choose the most unbiased delegate on our side and let them question her objectively, not emotionally.”

“What does ‘recuse’ mean?” asks Geirahoel. She looks around at the others nearby. Jeavana, who has finally climbed to her feet and brushed herself off, gives a shrug and shakes her head. Magnir also shakes his head, and before Zuzia can reply, Senn speaks up.

“It means to withdraw your role in the questioning, right?”

Daniel nods. “It means I’m formally removing myself to avoid my obvious bias. Ryuogriar goes without saying, but if you agree to fairly investigate…”

“Magnir, then,” states Geirahoel without question. She turns to look at him. “Magnir and Emerald should be the most unbiased.”

“Me, your Grace?” asks the blue dragon.

“Yes. If you were not, Djihnlierr would not be alive.” She then looks at Senn and Serrentuk nearby. “And, you two. The four of you have level heads or no incentive to lie for either side.”

Serrentuk chuckles. “Yes, this was briefly discussed before. I’ll keep my schedule clear.” He adjusts his glasses and grins warmly. He doesn’t look a day over a youthful fifty years old, let alone somewhere a lot closer to ten thousand than not.

“I’m fine with those four,” replies Daniel. He says to Magnir, “Magnir, you’ll be the first delegate on our behalf. I trust you to use your head, but also to be objective. Don’t let yourself be pressured by me or anyone else. That’s an order.”

The dragon gives a big smile, and while he’s still holding his own egg, he places his hand on his heart. “My Liege,... I am no longer bound by contract. I might just choose to disobey now.”

Everyone laughs, since Magnir and Neith have put up with a very reckless Liege lord, and Zuzia only just got to hear about the misadventure where Daniel and Magnir were random-teleported far away due to a device malfunction.

“By the way,” starts Zuzia. “What’s the name of that game you two were playing?”

“Game?” asks Magnir. He looks at Jeavana.

The golden dragon shrugs. “I guess it’s just a game…”

“In the way arm wrestling is,” retorts Zuzia dryly. She asks Geirahoel quietly, “May I hold Enya, Geirahoel?”

The young orange dragon nods gently. “As long as Mukori is done.”

Daniel kisses Enya one more time before gently handing her over to Zuzia, who is absolutely delicate with the baby dragon, smiling brightly as she waits for the answer from Magnir and Jeavana.

Magnir explains, “There’s… not really a name for it, I guess. ‘Venom breath’?”

“Hah!” scoffs the golden dragon. “If we’re naming it now, we should go with something dramatic. ‘Breath of Death.’”

“That sounds like something Hekate would come up with,” jokes Senn.

“Yeah!” replies Hekate brightly in agreement.

“I don’t really care what you call it,” replies Daniel playfully. “Now that Jeavana lost your little game of Jabber-hack, are we ready to try this?” Daniel gestures at the floating anvil system they’ll be using to try to prove whether or not sharmelkolle can be hammer-forged at all. It’ll probably prove to be impossible to fold it the way damascus steel or Japanese katanas are forged, but if Daniel recalls correctly, part of that process is to break part ‘grains’ within the crystalline structure of the metal, because the larger, uneven grains are what create the imperfections that can ‘slip’ or otherwise break and fracture the metal. Breaking those grains apart is part of the process for strengthening, but Daniel isn’t after the strength, specifically, when sharmelkolle already has such a reputation for strength. It will help in another project he has only hypothesized for now, but his goal is to make the metal more uniform. If he can make force dampening work, he can survive the one thing he knows he stands no chance against; being slammed across the ground the way he has seen Hekate, Zuzia, Magnir, Neith, and Yaulwembor experience.

“‘Jabber-hack’?” echoes Zuzia. “Ah! I get it, like the Jabberwock, huh? That’s pretty clever. Though, it kinda seems like you’re comparing them to a silly nonsense monster.”

Everyone looks at Daniel for clarification as he chuckles. “Snicker-snack. And, as for ‘claws that catch’, I present to you exhibit A and exhibit B:” Daniel gestures at Geirahoel first, who has since idly taken hold of Daniel’s arm while Enya is being held by Zuzia, and then to Jeavana, who has been shameless about her clingy flirting since the galvanized Morthybargaron puppet attack. Both lady dragons twitch as they realize they’re being compared to something, and their only context clue is ‘claws that catch’.

Geirahoel scowls at Daniel, growling, “Mukori… I don’t know what a ‘Jabberwack’ is, but if you don’t want to play ‘Jabber-hack’ with me,...” She leans closer and whispers so that only Daniel can hear. He chuckles in response, and she briefly bites his ear with a blushing glare on her face. She then approaches Zuzia, gesturing for Enya, saying, “Come, Enya. Whatever is about to happen is going to be quite terrifying for you, and it is almost feeding time. Jeavana, I trust you will look after Mukori.”

The golden dragon grins. “Yep!” She notices Wenlianna jogging back over, having gone to relieve herself. The dragon becomes a little hesitant only because she has a promise to keep to the magic artisan. Daniel nods gently at Jeavana, appreciating that she’s making a genuine effort not to push buttons against the ladies who are more easily made to worry.

Wenlianna asks, “What did I miss!?” She notices Geirahoel and Enya, saying warmly, “Ah! Geira. Good morning. And, a delight to see you, little Enya!” Wenlianna playfully tickles Enya’s belly, causing the dragon to make some cute noises. A tiny spark causes a fireball about the size of a match first igniting, and Wenlianna flinches back, catching her glasses to keep them from falling off of her face.

Geirahoel is surprised for a moment, but she focuses on Wenlianna. “Sorry… Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes. It was just surprising.”

“That much shouldn’t harm a person, yet, but… I will try to encourage her to be more careful.”

“Make sure to keep her away from the curtains,” jokes Zuzia. She then interlocks her fingers and stretches. “Now, then! Sir Magnir, let’s show these knives who the bosses are around here. Wenlianna, you only missed Magnir’s victory.”

The technically-younger brunette is relieved, and she says, “Thank goodness. Alright! I’m ready.” She eagerly sidles up to Daniel’s side, and Hekate bounds over.

“Right!? It’s all yours, Zuzia! But, not Daniel!”

Zuzia laughs and approaches her sledgehammer, while Magnir takes up his on the opposite side. All they have to do is strike at the same time, and Serrentuk explains his own spell.

It isn’t a one-for-one synchronization spell, but it will allow Zuzia and Magnir to feel each other’s senses. It will be disorienting at first, but they should be able to find a comfortable balance, particularly if one of them ‘leads’ and the other ‘follows’.

Magnir offers to lead, since he isn’t quite as strong as Zuzia, so it should be easier for her to keep pace with him.

The two ready, and the ancient elven sages both cast their spell together.

As described, it is a wholly alien experience for Zuzia, like a tickling on every part of her skin. When Magnir moves, she can feel a sort of static tickle in her own muscles and skin; she isn’t hi-jacked by his movements, but she can definitely feel what Serrentuk described; a sort of compulsion to move in certain ways. When Zuzia moves her hand in a flexing motion, she watches Magnir take notice, and he starts doing the exact same thing as her at exactly the same time.

“I think this’ll work…” states Zuzia.

“Agreed. Shall I begin?” asks Magnir as he hefts his sledgehammer.

Zuzia moves to match his pose, finding where her own body ‘settles’ to match his. “Ready when you are, Magnir.”

The dragon starts, and he takes a few practice swings at his anvil Zuzia falls into rhythm with him, letting his movements guide her own. She’s strong enough to catch up to him, and it’s a bit like a typical timing game in a video game. She can feel the exact motions and distances in her very being, so as long as she finds the ‘bullseye’ on the slider when Magnir moves, the sensation relaxes. They start tapping the floating anvils, and they clang as they swing into each other, with the only thing stopping them from fully contacting being the knife between them.

Zuzia notices that the anvils swinging is a little dubious, but Magnir notices it as well. They wait for the rocking to stop, and Zuzia looks at Daniel.

He reassures them from a fair distance away with the others, “It should be alright. The cables are mithril. Just keep hold of your hammers on the recoil.”

Zuzia sighs, and Magnir says, “Alright,... Brace yourself, my Lady.”

“I’m ready,” replies Zuzia. With as much swaying there was after the fact, it seems a little wrong, but the purpose of this instance was to test if Sharmelkolle can even be deformed by strikes from mortal hands.

“I’ll make sure no one dies,” states Kaeralegier’s voice as she appears next to Daniel, hovering up on her lazy magic. Daniel flinches with a start, since she does so on his right side, and he sighs.

“Kaera,... I’d appreciate it, but…”

Magnir and Zuzia stamp their forward feet together, perfectly in time with each other, and the hammers fly with supersonic force. Condensation cones are briefly visible in what feels like only a flash.

It sinks in how wrong Daniel was only after it would have long-been too late.

Krak-KABOOM-BOOM!

Three distinct sharp sounds reach Daniel a single second before the dirt spray that he narrowly snaps to his right to shield Wenlianna as everyone is startled, including the two who just swung the sledgehammers.

When it all settles, a smoking crater is settling about a single yard from Zuzia’s feet, and Magnir is horrified, leaning at an awkward angle as a single flash of light glistens far in the sky behind him, disappearing.

The crater itself around the hole that descends deeper is almost six feet across and four feet deep, with the anvil itself having disappeared deep into the ground.

The other one, though, may never be seen again.

Daniel feels sick and horrified as he realizes that there was no way for anyone to have reacted in time.

Everyone is startled, and it takes a long time for them to break free of the trance.

Once more, the story of Daniel’s life can be summarized by one line.

‘Seemed like a good idea at the time.’

***