Chapter: 688 Bonus - The Calm Before... (Patreon)

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Erz could still not believe that he had been allowed into the holy land. Every single member of the House of Iron had submitted applications including references and aptitude tests of various kinds.

Well… maybe the latter two were just him.

He’d just been so excited that he wanted to ensure that he had the greatest chance that he could have.

He absently licked the side of his hand and rubbed at his ear, letting out a purr that vibrated his whole chest.

He’d only been within Ironhold for a week, and already he knew it was the greatest opportunity of his entire life. As a member of the House of Iron, he had quarters and tasks assigned. He also had a daily regimen including training and hours of mediation in the iron-rich environment.

He was barely fifteen, and while he had his concept, it was… it was embarrassingly simple and incomplete.

‘Iron facilitates…’

He didn’t know what it facilitated, and he had spent years trying to figure out the remainder… to no avail. He always felt like he was missing something obvious, and maybe the suffusion of power here would help him bridge the gap.

Regardless, this was his first ‘free day’, granted to allow him to explore his new home and maybe even meet some people outside of the House of Iron.

That was honestly madness.

This was their holy land, the fulfillment of everything the elders said they were searching for over uncounted generations. It was crazy that non-House members were allowed in.

He hesitated at that thought, checking his thought process. Though… the Iron Matriarch isn’t technically a member…

But that was just to be expected. She had to lead the House toward enlightenment, and it is easier to lead from out in front rather than within.

He nodded at that.

Still, he could tolerate non-members. It was the least he could do for the blessing he’d been given.

His eyes caught a passing group of people about his age, and he almost turned to stare.

There had been a lovely fox-kin girl that momentarily made all his parent’s warnings fly from his head. Then, he shook his head to clear it. No canines, vulpines, or reptiles. It never ends well, and they’re always up to something.

He wouldn’t be taken in or brought low by a pair of pretty—

HIs thoughts hitched as a server in a cafe caught his eyes, utterly interrupting the rest of his train of thoughts.

She was beautiful.

He was used to seeing hue-folk girls of red, orange, white, and so many other hues, and they always seemed so separate from the rest of the world, even when they were working within it.

This girl, though? She looked to be related to the Iron Matriarch herself.

She’s human. Erz hadn’t seen many before coming to Ironhold, and now there were so many around that they could be considered a plurality.

But this one? She was stunning to his eyes.

He found himself walking into the establishment, wondering if he should use some of his limited funds just to be nearer.

The girl looked a bit nervous as she met him near the front. “Good morning. Have you been here before?”

Erz shook his head. “No, miss.”

She smiled. “I’m Crisol, welcome.” Her smile turned a bit self-conscious, making her all the more lovely. “I only started this week, so please forgive me if I make any mistakes.”

“Oh, I can’t even imagine that.”

She frowned. “Working here? I… I suppose it’s not the most glamorous, but—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “No, no.  That’s not what I meant. I can’t imagine you making a mistake.”

“Oh… thank you?” She seemed uncertain. “Let me… show you to a seat?”

He nodded, feeling his fur twitch in embarrassment. Why did I say that?

He ducked his head and followed her to a side table.

He was able to order a drink that didn’t cost too much, and given there weren’t many customers, Crisol came to talk with him again.

“I’m sorry if it’s rude to ask, but… are you a cat-kin?”

Erz huffed a little laugh. “No, but many make that assumption. I am leopard-kin, but my fur is iron gray due to some… oddities.”

“Oh!” She glanced away. “Well, it looks rather soft—” The girl cut herself off, her cheeks changing color toward a bright red. The difference was stark on her tan face, and Erz found himself smiling even as she apologized. “I’m so sorry! That was probably really rude.”

He shook his head. “No, I… thank you.”

An older human woman called to Crisol, and the girl scampered off, glancing back toward Erz with a smile as she went.

Yes, indeed. This was the holy land, and Erz was going to make the most of it for as long as he could stay.

Just then, a fellow House of Iron trainee slid into the seat across from him. “Erz, right?”

Erz nodded. He thought he recognized the other boy. “Gabe?”

“That’s right.” The yellow hue-man grinned. “Doing some exploring?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. Did you hear that there’s a sapient dasgannach in here?”

Erz frowned, confused. “The… The Iron Matriarch is one, right? So… yes?”

Gabe shook his head. “No, no, one that was standard and rose up to sapience on its own. She lives in a park nearby, or so some of the others said.”

“Really?” Erz had to admit, that did sound interesting.

“Yeah!” The young man was quite excited. “She’s apparently nice enough. Want to go meet her? I was on my way there, but saw your house sigil and thought you might want to join. Iron is stronger together after all.”

The final sentence had the feel of a concept, and Erz briefly played with the idea. Iron facilitates togetherness.

He grimaced and shook his head. It wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Gabe misinterpreted the gesture. “Oh… alright. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Erz’s eyes widened. “No, no! You’re fine. I was thinking about something else.” He glanced toward the kitchens, then to his empty cup. With a sigh, he nodded. “I think I’m done here. Let’s go.”

“Yeah!” Gabe grinned, rising once more.

Erz would be coming back, that he was sure about… He might even do so with a new friend.

*

Lupe shuddered within her spherical sub-hold. She was currently manifesting a couple of humanoid forms, talking with those in Ironhold or just enjoying the city. One was even playing with a group of children, but none of that was enough to truly distract her.

Something was coming, but she couldn’t tell what or where… or when.

It was like a subtle vibration within her glass.

She didn’t know why, but she knew it was building just as it had been for months.

The owner of the hold had investigated and found nothing of consequence, so Lupe was hesitant to bring it up again, but it felt… It felt like something was about to break, and she didn’t like the feeling at all. She liked the feeling of helplessness even less.

These last years had been amazing as she’d gotten to actually interact with other people, other minds. Her centuries of isolation had been… not awful, but then again, she hadn’t really understood what she’d been missing.

This was what her mind was for, the interactions. She knew that she could never go back.

As the resonance shifted yet again—sending minute cracks throughout her forms until she adjusted—she found herself more concerned than ever.

I just hope we can go forward.

*

Janrial watched from cover as another House caravan made its way across the plains.

His hand itched to draw his bow and signal the attack, but times had changed.

The arrogant scions of the Houses no longer conducted raids of the Wandering Wilds, or at least, they did so less frequently and less openly.

He’d never been a target, being gateless and all, but he’d known too many gated not to care what happened to them.

But the caravan before Janrial was a trading caravan.

The settlements of the Wandering Wild were actually trading with the Houses, and it had yet to end in disaster.

There was a bit of an axe over their heads with this growing threat that would arrive… at some point, but even when that was over? Money has been made, and merchants aren’t going to want to shut off profitable routes.

A new age was beginning to dawn, and Janrial didn’t know where he fit into it.

He had six decades as a strike team leader, roaming the wilds around his home as it, in turn, roamed the wilds, keeping threats away to the best of his ability.

Now?

Now, one of the greatest threats was welcomed with open arms and full coin pouches.

Times are changing, Janrial… it might be time for you to change too.

He shook his head.

Any change would have to come later.

He signalled his people. ‘No threat, patrol to continue.’

They had people to protect, friends they couldn’t neglect, and a village to ensure still stood in the morning.

Janrial would keep his eyes open and mind sharp. It was always when one thought themselves safest that the most danger was sure to be upon them

And Janrial? Janrial felt much too safe for comfort.

*

Grediv swept another information tally to the side in his mind’s eye.

The new Alefast was well and truly established, and the mundanes had everything well in hand, but he still felt like his work was never done.

The City Stone had settled into its new physical location, suffering the expected minor loss that resolidifying its physical location always caused.

The next city in the cycle was about to fully activate as well, and that would increase the workload for the mundane organizers and Caravan Guild while reducing Grediv’s tasks considerably.

It also might allow for final stabilization.

The City Stone had been acting… odd. It was almost like the fluctuations felt throughout the whole region during the Leshkin wars, but those were still a long way off.

Still, he wasn’t the only Archon with a similar sense, and they’d sent investigators.

The Leshkin were calm, and there were fewer if anything, though still within the standard range.

There was no upswelling in their numbers and the magics that monitored the Leshkin souls in waiting hadn’t reported a drastic change, so it wasn’t as if they were building their forces in secret.

He almost wished they were, as not knowing was almost always worse than knowing and being able to address the issue.

It could, of course, be the approaching Black Legion, but that was being addressed to the best of their ability already.

Grediv grunted, moving on to the next report. The Academy was proposing an alteration to their curriculum, contingent on Mistress Tala’s experiment with her ‘hold wardens’.

He was not excited for such changes, but he supposed he should at least read what they had to say.

With that in mind, he settled in and got to work.

Such was the life of the Holder of a City Stone’s bond. Work was never done.

*

He shifted in the snow, ignoring the light, high-altitude fluff that moved with him, surrounding him like the air as he lay, looking toward the sky.

The end was still so far away.

The fact didn’t irritate him, nor did it make him despair.

It simply was.

Now, the events swirling in the low-lands were… odd. He wasn’t sure what outcome would lead to his desired end more rapidly, but it wasn’t like he could influence things anyway.

The terrapin was sticking close to the center of such things, and so, no interference would be allowed…

That was a shame, but yet again, not unexpected.

The end would come one way or another, and it was closer than ever.

Every second, closer.

Not every end was death, and not every death was an end, and he had to admit that he was a bit curious what sort of end would result from the growing culmination.

Only time would tell.

It always did.

*

Verity stood with his commanders and sub-commanders at the crossroads, watching their soldiers flow outward, led by officers of competence and skill.

They’d found it.

The hidden, broken world was just within reach, and they were almost ready for their full invasion.

The Legion would only get a single chance for a first strike, and Verity would not let impatience undo them at this juncture.

Reconnaissance had been completed to the best of their ability, and plans had been formed.

Footholds had been established in secret, and they were ready for the next wave of legionnaires to be reborn after the first battle.

Every clash had casualties, and their enemies had had millennia to become more dangerous and change tactical approaches.

Verity and his commanders expected far higher need for reconstruction after the action than they’d come to expect near the end of the last war.

Their counters were outdated and well known, but that was alright.

That was within expectation.

Those who would die would return to them with the firsthand knowledge to adapt their tactics and approaches.

He wasn’t overly concerned by the scout that hadn’t returned.

Many had been lost in the tumult of the Doman-Imithe through the long centuries, and while he’d have liked a firsthand account of their renewed enemy, the beacon had been enough.

They were here, and it was finally time.

Orders had been given, and the first assault was near at hand.

Within the day, the users of taboo power would know the Legion’s wrath once more.

No, the wrath of reality itself. Verity nodded to himself. They were but its harbingers.

A massive debt of filth, corruption, and desecration had been accrued, and the bill had finally come due.

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