H - 145: What Were You Expecting? (Patreon)

A/N: After my previous post, everyone both here and on Discord wanted to see what I considered the needless fluff chapter anyway, so since both it and the replacement chapter I wrote next ended up on the short side, I combined them into one slightly longer than usual chapter. At least this way the final result advances the story, and I haven't wasted any actual writing.

***

“As you can see, my lord, for the border defenses we have opted for subtly decorative stonework to emphasize Dragonvale’s wealth and uphold the dignity of its namesake inhabitants, but not to fully replicate the grandiosity of the original Timekeeper construction.”

“That would be pretty excessive for a border wall,” Kaln agreed.

“Just so, sir,” said Captain Miras, nodding. “Lieutenant Naviri designed the decorative touches to harmoniously reflect the Timekeeper aesthetics found deeper within but not match their intricacy, and also express the aesthetics of exterior defense.”

At that, Kaln blinked, needing a moment to process. “And… Pardon me if this is a stupid question, but what are the aesthetics of exterior defense?”

“Not stupid at all, sir,” piped up Lieutenant Naviri herself, who was hovering—literally—at a polite distance from Kaln and the Captain. “Exterior defenses must be intimidating; too much extravagance looks decadent and practically invites attack. They should also, however, express the aesthetic sensibilities of the culture they are defending, since they serve as a visitor’s first introduction to said culture. And if visitors are meant to be made welcome, it is necessary to carefully balance the intimidation factor with appeal. It’s a tricky line to walk, sir!”

“I see.” Once again, Kaln marveled at the Darashi military’s mastery of every conceivable subject except fighting wars. In the last month he’d dug up some relevant histories from Emeralaphine’s library to familiarize himself with their culture. In that last conflict they had been absolutely flattened. “Well, even incomplete I can see that you’ve nailed it. Fine work, everyone.”

“Thank you, sir!” Naviri beamed as she saluted; she seemed a bit more excitable than most of the ghosts, but perhaps that was to be expected for an artist.

The walls were still going up, but Kaln could see the eventual plan from the small section that was fully completed, from base to battlements. They were taller than seemed necessary, very lightly decorated by columns of a slightly darker shade of stone bracing their exterior at wide intervals. Even he could see these didn’t serve a structural purpose, but they emphasized the height of the walls and conveyed strength. The battlements had a slight outward overhang, the gaps between stone segments narrow, the solid pieces rising to sharp points in the same darker stone, forming spiky caps slightly overhanging the gaps with little…serifs.

That wasn’t the right term. Kaln was a scribe; he didn’t know what those little embellishments were called in architecture. But he’d expressed enough ignorance in front of his people for one day; he’d have to look that up later.

“This is the temporary border marker,” Miras continued, gliding over to a neat stack of stone blocks erected by the side of the road some distance from the incomplete gate. “The exact position of Dragonvale’s borders is currently a bit up in the air, sir. We border either unclaimed and uninhabited mountains, the Hiiri Reaches, and Boisverd—which had Dragonvale within its borders until last month and now is a vassal state of Dragonvale in all but technicality. So, on every side, the borders are more or less where you declare them to be, sir. The Legion has picked the most defensible point in each pass to erect a border wall, and I’ve sketched out what I consider the best places to place walls along the southern plateau. The rest is impassible.”

“Make that a low priority,” Kaln ordered. “We may not border any organized polity to the south, but that doesn’t mean there’s nobody there with opinions, and it’s all people I want to be on good terms with. I’ll clear any border fortifications with the Hiiri and Rhivaak before beginning construction. None of them are likely to object, but failing to include them could be a provocation.”

“Very good, sir, makes sense. For now, we are following standard Hegemony practice and placing the actual border markers a distance out from the gates; this gives us a space within our territory to organize entry procedures that is still outside the defenses.”

Naviri floated up next to Kaln and held up a glowing sheet of conjured parchment. Unlike Miras’s neat diagrams, her slightly luminous drawings were in full color. Kaln suspected they might be hard to look at for any length of time, at least to mortal eyes, but they were all ghosts and he was a godling; there’d been no problems yet. On this one, she’d roughly depicted this area after the Legion had finished construction: a wide stone plaza outside the walls, lined with permanent structures containing those visitor facilities, and terminating at the actual border markers.

“This has a completely flattened stone floor shown,” Kaln said.

“Yes, sir,” Miras replied, “that would be the standard Hegemony design, adjusted for the aesthetic style decided upon here.”

“You’ll need to modify it further. This is an Imperial-era Valeri road; they’re famously well-made and there’s no need to replace it. More importantly, the Vale states take great pride in Valeri heritage and draw legitimacy from their descent from the old Empire. If we needlessly rip up and replace perfectly functional Valeri construction it’ll be taken as symbolic, in a bad way.”

“Yes, sir, duly noted! We can adjust the plans easily.”

“I noticed the stonework at the base of the walls,” said Kaln, glancing back at the very incomplete segments and then pointing at the depiction on the page. “What’s this going to be when it’s done?”

“Barricade moat, sir. Deep water, magic lights embedded in the walls below the water line to illuminate the walls, and a low stone wall topped by a spiked iron fence on top of that preventing access to the water from the front. It’s decorative and provides constant illumination, and also inhibits attackers getting siege ladders or towers into place. In this instance it’s cursory—we can’t make a full moat without tearing up a section of road, and this one is too narrow to fully stop a siege ladder. We’re including this touch because attack on Dragonvale is unlikely to come in the form of conventional armies, and the partial version is useful in both illuminating the exterior wall and upholding the defensive aesthetic. For a similar reason, the exterior structures planned for this plaza will all be wood, and can be destroyed from atop the walls if they’re taken.”

Incredible, the things they thought of.

“Very well, carry on,” said Kaln. That actually sounded like it would look amazing when it was all finished—though, no, it wouldn’t do much to stop invaders.

“Sir!” Miras saluted. “Then we just need your approval on a design for the border marker.”

Naviri held up a selection of pictures—actually making them hover in front of herself so Kaln could peruse them all at once. All of them featured a tapering stone plinth matching the design of the walls that, guessing from perspective, would be about twice the height of the average human. The sketches weren’t labeled with exact measurements. What was different in each were the statues atop the plinths.

Naviri had drawn dragons in a variety of poses—regal, menacing, relaxed, just about every way a dragon could look except silly. Kaln had seen them doing all of it including silly, and he could tell Naviri had based these designs on personal observation. Omitting “silly” from the prospects was wise, considering.

“Hmm…” He reached out to touch one picture; his fingertip caused the image to ripple as it passed through. “I have an additional suggestion.”

“Of course, my lord!” Naviri said eagerly.

“I like this pose,” Kaln continued, tapping again at the image of a proud, serene dragon with a fully upright neck, half-seated in a relaxed posture. “Can we adjust the wing positions so that one is outstretched over the road? And the one on the other side in a mirrored position, so that anyone approaching passes under their wings.”

“Ooh, yes!” Naviri exclaimed. “Oh, I see the vision! I like it! We can absolutely do that, sir. I confess I didn’t suggest something like that because I was trying to appeal to your tastes, and from my research it seems like Rhiva monuments are very symmetrical.”

“Yes,” he said, amused, “but Rhiva monuments heavily run toward obelisks, pillars, and free-standing murals. There aren’t a lot of statues in Rhivkabat—except of one particular dragon who, yes, is usually depicted symmetrically.”

“We might need to increase the height of the plinth in this case,” Miras suggested. “For clearance under the wings. Best to err on the side of excess, for a national border entry.”

“Do you have sufficient materials?” Kaln asked.

“It’s not a problem, sir. We’ve begun quarrying suitable stone from five locations in the surrounding mountains, positioned so as not to disrupt the natural scenery visible from Dragonvale as per Hegemony codes. My people have also found some deposits of a lovely golden marble with reddish veins, which we haven’t touched yet. There hasn’t been a need, but I think it would do nicely for statuary.”

“That sounds perfect, then! Make it as large as you need—in fact, let’s set the standard as sufficient for one of the drakes to pass through in larger form.”

Miras peered swiftly around the canyon. “Yes, sir, there should be room for that, and this is the smallest pass.”

“Good. In the others… Is there room to make a similar entry large enough for one of my consorts to pass through in full size?”

“At all other gate locations, I believe so, sir,” the ghost said with a smile. “Not really feasible here—the pass itself is just barely large enough for that.”

“Perfect. Get everything complete and functional on all gates, and we’ll use this site as a dry run for the statuary border stones. If I don’t hate how it looks, we’ll scale it up as necessary for the passes that will see more use.”

“Yes, sir—good plan, I’ll get people on it immediately. And that covers the scheduled inspection; do you wish to move on to the reason you shifted the first inspection to this gate?”

“Yes indeed. Thank you, Captain, fine work as always. I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Sir!” Miras and Naviri both saluted, then Miras streaked away in a puff of glowing mist and Naviri fell in alongside Kaln as he returned to the ghosts in front of the gate.

“Lieutenant Irvas,” Kaln greeted the ghost who saluted him upon his approach. “I heard your subordinate’s oral report last night and read your detailed report first thing this morning. I appreciate your thoroughness, soldier.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

“Anything to add to it?”

It was a subtle thing, but Kaln was fluent enough in the nuances of facial expression to see the obvious rejoinder being repressed. “I strive to make my reports as thorough as possible, sir.”

“Let me rephrase that,” he said, grinning. “It was thorough indeed, and also very…regulation. I have a solid grasp of what the incontrovertible facts are. In my experience, the opinions of experienced people are always valuable to consider, even if they don’t rise to the level of evidence. What I’m asking is, do you have any personal thoughts that you didn’t feel warranted reporting?”

Irvas hesitated, frowning faintly.

“Permission to speak freely is granted and encouraged,” Kaln added.

“Very well, sir,” the lieutenant said more slowly. “Then, purely as a matter of personal opinion, I don’t believe that entity was interested in fighting. Undoubtedly capable of it, and it may be that she was dissuaded from trying by my oblique reminder that Dragonvale’s defenses include multiple elder dragons. But personally, I think she’s just a solitary, powerful being who is painfully unaccustomed to not getting her way.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. Your subordinate noted something similar last night.”

“Yes, sir, that’s consistently been the view among those who were on duty at the time. I do feel the need to reiterate that this doesn’t constitute evidence according to Hegemony standards.”

“Noted; I won’t overvalue it, but the Legion has demonstrated their collective expertise too often for me to risk ignoring your advice.”

“I appreciate that, sir,” Irvas said with a smile and a salute. “We shall continued to endeavor not to disappoint. Have you seen Lieutenant Naviri’s depictions?”

Naviri helpfully conjured four more sheets of spectral paper, each showing the visitor from the night before from a different angle.

“I’m working on a physical copy for you to keep, sir!” she chirped. “Chalk pastels on heavy paper. I’m afraid that after getting used to ghost powers, it’s frustratingly slow to draw the real thing the real way again. But I’ll have it done today.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said, amused. “I’ll be departing soon, but you can give it to Wirven when it’s done.”

“Sir!”

“It is very…iconic,” he added, frowning at the portraits. The woman depicted looked dangerous, to be sure, but not exactly menacing. “The cloak of rags, the chain mail… It was that color in person?”

“It was heavily rusted, sir,” Naviri said with an apologetic grimace. “The medium doesn’t capture it well. Sorry.”

“I notice her eyes are a different color in each picture.”

“Yes, sir, they tended to shift.”

“The way a cat’s or wolf’s eyes do in changing light,” Irvas quickly clarified. “They didn’t change color, but every tiny shift in perspective made them look different.”

“I see,” Kaln murmured, frowning at the pictures.

Divine lineage.

This was another of the Entity’s victims—a much older one, most likely. Clarent hadn’t heard of anyone like this rattling around the Evervales… Where had she been, all this time? Doing what? Was she another godling, still, or had she attained full apotheosis? Kaln didn’t even know how firm a division that was. It seemed like something that could be more of a spectrum, especially for a person who was just walking around on foot.

What the ghosts described had definitely been a direct exercise of divinity, but it sounded like something within his own capabilities—briefly making the physical world noticeably flex from sheer focus. He had, in fact, done that. But in his case, it was the upper limit of what he could do with divine power. Something told him that for her, it had been a very minor display.

The Entity had always failed previously, or believed it had. It wasn’t impossible that it was lying about that, but Kaln didn’t think so; it had made that admission in a moment of deep personal frustration. So she wasn’t a godling or goddess of revenge.

Of what, then?

He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lieutenant. And…Lieutenant.”

“Sir!” They both saluted, Naviri grinning. By all the gods, it was so much better now that they could talk. They were people; just what he’d needed. Kaln loved working with people.

“Keep up the good work, everyone,” he said, saluting in the Darashi fashion. Properly, this time; Commander Sharamin had helped him get it down. “Forward the flame!”

“FORWARD THE FLAME!”

***

Kaln teleported directly to the main vault, since that’s where the dragons had gathered.

“Ah, there you are,” Emeralaphine said impatiently, flicking her tail.

“Here I am,” Kaln agreed equably, smiling up at her. “Mundane business attended to and ready to hear shocking revelations.”

“Well, husband, you are about to learn a valuable life lesson about over-expecting,” she replied. “As before, I am continuing to follow the interloping goddess’s progress through the outer fringes of my detection wards. She went right to Shadrach’s front door, stood there for a few minutes, and then left without magical or violent incident. His own wards appear untouched.”

Kaln couldn’t help frowning in disappointment. “That’s it?”

Emeralaphine lowered her head to his level and grinned. “What were you expecting?”

“Everyone made it sound like it was important to let this play out unimpeded. By implication at least, it sounded like you expected something… I don’t know, revelatory.”

Clarent coughed discreetly. He was the only mortal present, surrounded by his godling employer, four dragons—all three consorts and Vadaralshi—and Commander Sharamin and Wirven, not to mention the Phantom guards stationed at every doorway, but as always he seemed perfectly at ease.

“My lord, with the greatest respect, I begin to fear that working with the Storyteller has given you a…skewed perspective of what can be expected from intelligence-gathering activities.”

“It is usually thus, husband,” Izayaroa added. “One observes carefully, and assembles a picture of what is happening based upon countless small interactions. Not that dramatic revelations do not occur, but the individual data points gathered are often not significant in isolation. They must still be gathered.”

“It just seems like in this case we could’ve gotten more by either confronting her in person, or warning Shadrach,” Kaln protested.

“Unlikely in the latter case, my lord,” said Clarent. “Based upon his personality, Meshabedan forewarned was likely to react to an unwanted visitor exactly as he would if surprised by one. In point of fact, sir, this is what makes him a useful wall against which to hurl enemies and unknown quantities. The fact that a goddess spoke to that man face to face and a conflict did not ensue is significant. What the significance is, we cannot determine until we gather more data. Which, rest assured, we shall do.”

“Already have done,” Vadaralshi piped up. “I did a flyover of the direction she came from, and actually landed and poked around in smaller form when I reached forest. Nothing looked disturbed, except for one messed-up tree that was obviously the work of a bear. So we know she can and does go around things; she might not deign to go around mountains, but she doesn’t knock over trees in her way, which is almost certainly within her power.”

“Small data points,” Clarent repeated, nodding. “They must be gathered in the greatest profusion possible, and sorted into a full picture. Had you spoken with her directly, my lord, it’s possible you could have learned more—but given the likelihood that this deity was ascended from a Valefolk woman, there was a very real risk of her learning everything she wanted about us while revealing nothing. To say nothing of the physical hazard she represented.”

Kaln sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “I understand what you’re saying. It’s just…frustrating.”

“So it often is, husband,” said Tiavathyris, lowering her head to affectionately and very gently bump him with her nose. “It must nonetheless be done. Best we get in this habit, in fact. Our real enemies and other major players will not obligingly come here and stand in our soothsaying machine to have their full backstories played out for our convenience. As awareness of the Storyteller spreads, in fact, we can expect the Valefolk to become even more cagey with us than they are in general. Clarent is correct; we must develop conventional intelligence-gathering capabilities.”

“Very well.” Kaln reached out to stroke her muzzle before she withdrew. Neither of them had reported on it to him yet, specifically, but it sounded as if Clarent’s intent to poach some of her soldiers-in-training as spies-in-training wasn’t going to be a source of conflict. He’d follow up with both of them later, in a less public setting. “What are our options for gathering more data points about this one, then?”

“To begin with,” Clarent said briskly, “there is the option we discussed first thing this morning, my lord. An entity like this would have made a strong impression on everyone she encountered; the fact that I’ve not heard of any such being in the Evervales suggests she has not been interacting regularly with people. I am repeating my recommendation for everyone’s benefit,” he added, turning to pan his gaze around at the assembled dragons, “as the Dragonlord wished to hear the input of his consorts before committing to a course of action. In a case like this, information can be gathered both easily and quickly. Intelligence concerning hazards in the wild is gathered by the various adventuring guilds, and freely disseminated as a matter of policy. Well…liberally disseminated. Commissioning a hazard report isn’t free, but the nominal cost is of no significance to most states and definitely none to the financial resources of Dragonvale.”

“That seems a simple enough course of action,” Tiavathyris rumbled. “I gather there is some catch?”

“Indeed, General,” Clarent said gravely. “The guilds are adamant about their neutrality from politics. They do not keep secrets unless paid to in advance, and then only in specific contexts for which their personnel is hired. They’ll not only tell us everything they know about this figure, they will just as gladly tell everyone that we asked. Once commissioned, a hazard report will be made available to all parties for purchase for an even smaller fee, with the commissioner’s name included. National spy agencies, Secret Societies, merchant guilds and ambitious noble Houses all keep track of who is asking the adventurers what as a matter of course. If we pursue this option, we will know everything the adventurers know about this rogue goddess within a week. Everyone in the Vales will know within another week that we inquired.”

“And…what harm can come from that?” Emeralaphine inquired.

“Offhand, I can see none,” said Kaln, “which is why I wanted to consult with all of you before committing to it. I am keenly aware of my inexperience; it’s foolish not to avail myself of the centuries of expertise at my disposal before acting.”

Clarent nodded in approval.

“It is wise in general to be mindful of what we allow other powers to learn about our dealings,” Izayaroa said slowly. “In this case… The knock-on effect would be to strip this entity of any capacity she has for subtlety or subterfuge. Or, depending on the nature of her divine powers, much of it. As interested as everyone is in the new Dragonvale, all powers in the Evervales will fix their attention upon the walking goddess.”

“I think it worth doing for that reason alone, even if the guilds can tell us nothing,” Tiavathyris added. “It will hamper her movements and generate more data about her as she interacts with other parties, in a way for which she can’t directly blame us.”

“In magical terms, she can’t directly blame us,” Emeralaphine added, grinning. “This one invoked ancient law, so it’s likely that will matter. As an individual she’ll likely be pissed at us as soon as she figures out what happened. Whether that’s a problem, or how much of one, I don’t think we can yet know.”

“The only hazard I can see is that it will create opportunities for her to gather allies against us,” Clarent said gravely. “And we simply do not know whether that’s even a concern.”

“We don’t have confirmation that her intent is hostile,” Emeralaphine mused, “and there are substantial indications that it’s not, and also that she doesn’t play nicely with others. That seems to me a minimal and worthwhile risk.”

Kaln looked at each of his other consorts as they nodded in agreement.

“Very good then. Thank you, ladies, for your input. Clarent, please proceed—you’re familiar with procedures as regards the guilds, so I will leave this in your hands. Wirven, requisition whatever funds and materials he needs.”

“Yes, sir!”

“I have ample writing materials already, my lord, and will need nothing but that and coin. I shall begin drafting letters of request immediately.”

“With that settled,” said Emeralaphine, “I have also been at work. Tracking this person’s progress through my detection wards was so simple it occurred without my active intent. Given her predilection for unnaturally straight lines of movement, projecting her course was child’s play.”

She made a gesture with one claw which Kaln knew to be superfluous; Emeralaphine enjoyed her little touches of pageantry.

Shapes formed in the open space between them, coalescing from motes of light into swirls of dust, and then into an intricate three-dimensional map. The Evervales stretched out on the floor before them all, rendered in meticulous detail to show mountains, valleys, cities, rivers…everything.

“This is the course she took to arrive at our northeastern pass,” said Emeralaphine, and a blue line appeared across the entire map, terminating at the border of Dragonvale on one end and the rocky northern coast of the continent on the other. “Obviously, I was aware only of the last stretch; the rest of this line is extrapolated outward from that course.”

“This does conform with her lack of reputation,” Clarent mused. “That line cuts across two arms of the Highlands, and otherwise mostly through wild forest. You can see it crosses several trade roads, but the only point where she would regularly encounter people is there, in the inland territory of Ostenpass.”

“Bear in mind that we don’t know what else she has going on,” Emeralaphine warned. “We have noted a tendency for her to walk in straight lines over all obstructions, but also seen her change course. She talked of divine lineage and was here to see Kaln specifically, so if she began this trek at the moment of his apotheosis—an unconfirmed assumption—then by her noted walking pace and adjusting for the time it would take to navigate some extreme changes in elevation, she’d have started from somewhere within this radius.”

A circle appeared in the far north, centered around the blue line.

“Oh, wow, yeah,” Zhiiji agreed, sauntering up to the group with a heavy backpack and her sword both slung over her back. “That’s way up in buttfuck, nowhere.”

“Good, you’re up to speed,” said Vadaralshi, grinning down at her.

Emeralaphine rolled her eyes, but otherwise ignored the byplay. “The more recent data is more significant, I think. She departed from Shadrach’s tower in a different direction. This is where that course will take her.”

Another line appeared—red, this time, beginning from a point in the mountains just north of Dragonvale, and extending to the northwest all the way across the continent, where it stopped at the coast.

Tiavathyris raised her head in alarm, momentarily ruffling her wings.

“Oh…dear,” Izayaroa murmured, narrowing her eyes.

“Damnation,” Clarent whispered.

“What am I missing?” Kaln asked. “I’m sorry, I don’t know the local geography as well as I should, yet. What’s on that stretch of coastline?”

“Not there, husband,” said Emeralaphine, extending one claw to point at the center of the continent. “You see this mountain formation, the nearly perfect circle of mountains?”

“Yes,” he said. “With a flat space in the middle and a smaller mountain in the center of… Wait. Is that…?”

“Yes, my lord,” Clarent said gravely. “That is the Cryptlands. Our visitor’s planned course takes her directly through one of the passes into the Cryptlands and right to its primary citadel in the center.”

“My people were uncertain,” said Sharamin, “but indicated that her divine aspect seemed to be related to death.”

“A goddess of death,” Kaln murmured, “going right to the largest concentration of undead anywhere in the world. Well… I’m afraid this is going to become complicated.”