Tauli Ch. 04

Vanhern had stumbled across a brilliant doctor, who had found a way to store blessings and healing spells within crystals. The exotic hadn't a clue what they had found. Not really.

Through that, Vanhern learnt that he was only rediscovering a particular avenue of magical research. Elatham had been researching the storage of magic into living beings, in attempts to create intelligent weapons for Kaden.

The Sons of Menes had magic stored in them, as well. However, these playing pieces of Elatham had been different. Temporary, in everything. Designed to be able to use magic, but limited on purpose. You couldn't be overthrown by a soldier who only had two spells at their disposal.

Crystals lined the edges of Vanhern's cloak. Crystals that turned to ash, when he deployed a particular spell. Each crystal only held a single spell, they didn't have infinite potential. Each attuned to one exacting spell. However, it cost him no effort to use them, unlike a mage.

The tradeoffs of magic were academia.

He cautiously approached the study space, and looked down at the pad dubiously. Sneering at the nekan language that he had been forced to learn, serving beneath the last empress.

There was no attempt to hide what was written on this one.

% Toofy welcomes the Lord Vanhern.

% His skill, at locating and ferreting out her secrets, has become exceptionally clear to her, over the years. He became quite the thorn in her paw, and should be proud of it.

% There are few who would dare to be the one to bring her hindrance, let alone all the harm he inflicted upon her machinations with his ability to discover everything that she tried to keep hidden.

% Many of her secrets are here. She confesses, she did not have the time to relocate them to a more appropriate place. Toofy struggled, when she realised that he was prepared to make his move. She was not.

% Take pride in this, Lord Vanhern.

% However, he did have help in this. Whether or not he is willing to acknowledge it. The death of the Traitor Emperor began a new era in history. The destruction of the Gate meant that the betrayer gods rejoined us, and so brought home the war.

% The gods no longer like to act in quiet little secrecy.

% Toofy discovered the plans of one particular goddess, and found them to be in conflict with her own. She thought she had what it would take to undermine the divine bitch, but Toofy was an arrogant twat. She failed.

% Do not offend the gods, Lord Vanhern. That is Toofy's advice to him. He has been chosen as the tool of the Golden Kitsune. So long as he does not face the chosen tool of another god, and continues to do as the bitch wants, he will succeed.

% The success will not be easy, of course. The gods are lazy. They prefer it when we go to all the effort for them. He has earned his confidence, his victories. Toofy is more than happy to praise her enemy.

% However, Lord Vanhern, you must acknowledge that being the toy of a god is an uncomfortable feeling.

% And now that she has praised him, Toofy will tell him the one thing he wishes to know above everything else.

% The reason she is so happy to let him know all about her secrets, and did not merely burn down her space when she realised that the kitsune was coming to strip her soul from her body.

% Toofy... Broke her space.

% There is no exit.

% Enjoy, motherfucker.

% Toofy

Vanhern gave a small twitch of his cheek and looked around. He did not see a door or window, it was true. He also saw no marks on the ceiling, or floor, from where a gateway of any kind might exist.

A quick issue of sparks, burning another crystal, did not take him back to the royal archives.

It was quite possible he was permanently trapped.

"Godsdamned exotic."

---

"Oh, good gods." The tailor stared at the figure on his doorstep, before looking around at the empty street anxiously, and stepped back, "Inside, inside. Quickly."

The figure grunted as they strode by him, flicking a tail as thick as his arm, angrily.

Edric closed the door and then waved towards his room. He put a finger to his lips, signalling the salamander to stay quiet. The two moved into the space with steam, and cloth, where he cut the fine clothes of lords and ladies.

However, the human man moved quickly to drag aside a heavy rug, and reveal a trap door. He opened the well-oiled door, glancing around fearfully, and then nodded at the stairs beneath it.

The black-scaled figure in front of him eyed him with suspicion for a moment, and then shrugged. Wouldn't much matter if this really was a trap. They were practically invulnerable, at least to someone as pathetic at fighting as the tailor.

The steps creaked painfully under the weight of the bulky figure moving down them.

Edric ducked down behind him, closing the door and almost holding his breath as he followed the news of the day into his private sanctum. It wasn't exactly his own space, it was just something that he maintained.

"Sharhalla." He whispered as they arrived.

Nearby, beside a sweaty and weak catgirl, a blue dragon raised a hand, "Moment."

Edric flinched, "Sorry. He is a very dedicated doctor."

"They killed my bride." The black-scaled creature rumbled, "Salmon... Salmon gave her life, to protect child. Our child."

The tailor's eyes widened as the dragon touched the bottom of their stomach. The eyes of the deadly beast that had been the news of the day softened, from those of a murderous bastard, and to one who knew nothing but pain and suffering.

"I am engaged to a neko, myself." Edric whispered, "I... I sent her to the homeland. She was saved by the princess, at the edge of the city. I... I cannot imagine your loss, sir. I am... Sorry."

The dragon grunted, "You should find way to leave city. I break it."

Sharhalla stood up, and stretched his back weakly. The blue salamander turned around very slowly, and then his eyes went wide and white smoke billowed out of his mouth, and the doctor hit the ground. Slamming his forehead into the damp cellar dirt, hard enough that Edric felt it.

"King." Sharhalla whispered, in awe.

"I Reenhalla. They kill my Salmon... Meira. The kitten called Meira." The dragon winced, "Tell me."

The blue salamander shivered and stood up, still shaking. The man knelt in front of the black, and touched their stomach gently. His eyes didn't take on the usual disturbing focus that Edric expected. Sharhalla was still trying not to shit himself, in the presence of this dragon.

A lone dragon... Who had attacked the palace... And survived.

"Kitten heart, frantic." Sharhalla said with a small wince, "Scared. Needs to rest."

"Figures." Reenhalla grunted, walking forward and bowling over the weaker salamander, before sitting down between two of the beds and leaning against the cellar wall. The black-scaled beast closed his eyes, without another word, enormous tail curling into their lap.

Sharhalla waved his head, and Edric followed him back up and out of their hidden room. As the tailor reset the carpet, hiding down below, the salamander tried to catch their breath.

"Edric..."

He shrugged, "We're protecting the others. I don't think we have a choice."

"Not that." Sharhalla winced, "I... I met Salmon. She street cat, like Bubbles. Met Reenhalla, once, also."

Edric frowned, "Oh."

"He was a blue. And he was a she." Sharhalla struggled to find the words, looking deadly grim. "That... That thing down there... That not Reenhalla. That her fucking reaper. Spirit vengeance. Not... Alive. Just hate. Stronger than any of us. But just hate. No justice in hate."

The tailor leaned against one of his tables, and crossed his arms. He looked at the other man with deep concern, "Do you think he poses a risk? To... What's happening here?"

"Yes."

Edric winced, and tried to run the numbers in his head. Numbers, he found easier. He hadn't felt he had a choice, when the capital had issued the order to kill all nekos within the city borders. He had to protect them, save as many as he could.

However, his daily life had never truly been politics. He had cut cloth for Toofy and her family, more than once. He had cut uniforms for influential guards, and trimmed the cloaks of any number of lords. His role in all of that had been to cut cloth and keep his mouth fucking shut. Nothing more.

He couldn't afford to stay by the sidelines, now.

Establishing a path out of the city hadn't been easy, but with the aide of Sharhalla and Rali, it had been done. Edric didn't know the full path, and that was on purpose. You couldn't be tortured to reveal what you truly didn't know.

Yet, many of the nekos in the city weren't in a position to move. They were injured, or sick, or a combination of the two. Fighting both a plague and a genocidal group of knights wasn't odds that anyone should have to face, and most of them faced those odds alone before they got to Edric's doorstep.

He missed the days where his greatest concern was teaching Bubbles how to spell her name, without Ninaein stabbing him.

In the day's since the capital had imploded, the palace seized by the Darkthorn, everything had gone to the void. Sharhalla had a kitten turn up in his womb, without an egg, or an explanation. A recently discovered massacre on a tauran reserve had made the usually difficult creatures, utterly impossible. And still, fearful nekos made their way to Edric's doorstep.

Some heard of his name in the taverns, but others swore that they were guided by dreams. Paths of moonlight, showing them where he lived.

He did his best to do right by them, hiding and healing, but it was only a matter of time until they were hunted down. Like the common criminals that they had become. The crime of valuing life over the judgement of the new empress.

That the rebellious dragon who had sent the entire draconic community into a spin, was now in his cellar, didn't shock him in the least. He knew better than to ask how it was that Reenhalla had found him, but he doubted that he would be able to offer any protection.

It was only a matter of time until someone without a conscience discovered Edric's name.

All that he prayed was that he would get one more chance to meet his adorably inept neko, before that moment. He hoped that he could see her pale yellow eyes going wide in surprise, before she jumped into his arms. Kissing him, and offering him the unconditional love that seemed to form the core of her beautiful soul.

He knew that was just a dream.

He was never going to get a chance to see Bubbles, again.

"Fuck." Edric whispered.

---

The roars were still echoing inside Tammy's head. Repeating in endless and horrifying pattern. The rise of a new draconic king, and one that was pissed as the void. One that was willing to throw aside the kindness of a thousand years of social progress, and resort to genocide.

All dragons had agreed to give up their superiority, to become lesser creatures. To become the equals of those around them. It was only on that basis that the human empire had been able to rise in the north. And whilst the Three Kingdoms, in the south, might be ruled by dragons, those same figures did as little as possible.

Seeing themselves as guiding lights to lesser creatures. They didn't see it as their role to destroy or kill. They were to speak rarely, and act only if the entire continent was under threat. To blend in with all the weak little things that lived beneath their shadows.

It was that arrogance that had allowed Tammy to so firmly establish herself into this place.

However, the same day that some dragon got it into their head to become a new and vengeful ruler, she had an ancient one arrive in her own kingdom. Treichnokeillian.

The confirmation of his presence in the desert town had been eating at her, when she heard the roar from the north. That had made the decision easy. He had to die.

Tammy knew precisely who Treichnokeillian was. She had met him, twice. Not that he was aware of it. She had been possessing a lowly elven servant, both times. Hiding out and waiting for a chance to try and kill Kaden.

She'd watched him kill.

The humans had enslaved the salamander at the time. They used the ugly brute to their entertainment. It wasn't quite like an arena match. The dragon was granted no weapons, his magic was blocked, his jaw wired shut, and he was freshly declawed before every fight.

His opponent was generally human. A senior soldier that had come to shame through some failure or another. The governor of Fanhalla would give them a choice. Public execution, or they could attempt to fight the beast. They were given full battle army, offered a full restoration of their position.

When Irrlichdan had escaped from Fanhalla, Treichnokeillian had disappeared without a trace. Or rather, no trace that had ever panned out. The closest to finding him that Tammy, herself, had got, is an untrustworthy myth that the dragon had escaped captivity, but been cornered in the caverns beneath Fanhalla.

The salamander had, in the tale, chosen to dive into the lava, rather than be recaptured.

In the twenty years since the goddess had cursed Tammy to be both neko and kitsune, she had encountered many people who would try to kill her without a second thought. She had found more than a few who attempted to do so, the moment they saw her two tails.

None of those had ever frightened her, though they had made her life difficult.

Having a hatchling of Irrlichdan, in the Three Kingdoms?

That petrified her.

Unfortunately, his landing area was more than a little remote. She couldn't just send in a stranger to assassinate the bastard. The odds for the assassin going unnoticed, or even escaping, were practically nil. The target was a black salamander, in a kingdom that worshipped dragons as demigods.

She did have three degrees of separation between herself and those organisations she favoured for such a thing, but if the assassin failed, then Treichnokeillian would plow through her careful preparations as only a dragon could.

Even if he did not locate her, then he would come into contact with the king of her kingdom. Which would be utterly catastrophic to most of her plans.

The woman rubbed her jaw, and spoke to herself angrily, "Killin' be freakin o' da reasonable. No doin' o' dat... How in fuck do ya kill a fuckin' bitchin' black? And not have people starin'? Fuck."

She knew the answer her mate would give.

Her Lord Sai would shrug and go pick up an axe. He wouldn't care who saw him do it. Not because he was confident that he could escape the consequences, but because he saw no other choice. If the future depended on a moment, then he would personally make it happen.

The woman who had stolen him, on the other hand, made Tammy feel inadequate in all sorts of ways. Her ability to run politics with a knowing smirk, and a cruel laugh, were considerable. Or, they were, before Toofy had bitten off more than she could choose and finally got killed.

Tammy had reached out a few feelers to the northern continent, when she had learned that. Just trying to check if Sai still lived, and where he might be hiding out.

She could feel the warmth between her legs as she considered him. The only man who had ever made her scream, and the only man she would ever let do it, again.

Kitsune mated for life.

She didn't have the time to do things the way that Sai would. Personally handling the dragon was a possibility, her magic had not dulled over the years. Not since she had very nearly assassinated Kaden, and assisted with his eventual death.

However, Sai's bride had once played her cards a certain way. Turning an outlaw and prisoner into an obsessive bodyguard, who defended her, and then died for her.

What Twenty Four had chosen to do to Daen, was simple, and cliche. It was also highly effective.

Tammy stood up and stretched.

Time to go make a death-row prisoner obsessed with herself.

---

The last remains of the metal of the pan disappeared with a slow gulping motion. The iron was not the best tasting thing, that she had ever devoured. Nor was it really what she craved, in the day to day.

Iron was a disgusting metal.

She preferred the gemstones that the temple had given her. Firestones, in particular. She had known that in her return, they would be more difficult to access. She wasn't a Temple's Companion, anymore, after all.

However, she had expected to at least be resurrected into a nation that she remotely recognised. A place where she might be able to move towards the one who owned her, soul and heart.

This place... This was nothing but strangeness to her.

She had been raised in the Temple, she should have known that the gods would be looking to fuck with her, even if her resurrection was entirely of their doing. She had been chosen as a weapon, but there were sides to a war. Her own desires probably didn't matter to the ones who chose her, either.

The stink of her own kind was everywhere, in this place. She saw the traces of the ancient kingdom. Not just gateways here and there. This place still respected traditions that had been buried for reasons that were beyond contestation. The horrors of the past deserved to stay hidden.

She had only briefly explored the town, but the creatures here had idols and altars devoted to heroes of dragonkind, as well as to the divine. She found it... Appalling.

Part of her sneered at that thought. Finding it weak, pathetic, that she would still be clinging onto her ideals from her past. The ideals that had seen her killed so that Toofy could live her own dream. Part of her screamed at the drifting acknowledgement of the neko's existence.

She had died, childless, because Toofy valued herself above all others.

The salamander shook her head, and slapped one of her cheeks. Trying to bury the taint of whatever the fuck had tried to eat her in the labyrinth. She didn't really understand that. Nor how it had failed to do anything but burrow into her soul.

It wasn't anything she had been taught about at the Temple. Though, knowledge of the betrayer gods had been banned.

Not that it stopped Toofy from learning it all.

That smiling cat had snuck through Efina's every barrier. She could remember finding the girl reading some of her darkest spells. Ones that Efina was terrified of. The kind that could corrupt you beyond your existence. Twist you into a darkling, mindless, and destructive.

A tentacle brushed a fragment of metal from the corner of her mouth. Was that what she was now? A darkling? Just a cursed bitch, whilst the neko lived as empress of a far off place? Out of reach... Forever.

Hatred burnt through her, and she dissolved into shadow. Rising up the wall and through the gaps around the locked trapdoor. Sliding across the floor as she heard the two other occupants laughing and joking with each other.

The smaller one stank of obsession. The desire of a ratata. Little feeble creature. Unafraid of pain, it made them fools. Made them take risks that no reasonable person would. It made them weak, and too easy to kill. It was... Boring.

She tasted it gently, spread out on the floor beneath the creature. She nibbled at the skin of its bare feet, desperately wanting to bite down. To strip the rat of soul and flesh. To take bone and add it to her own, to grow by the shell of this irrelevant creature.

Who would care if it died? If it became a piece of her?

The other tasted more complicated. More interesting.

They were human, but the emotions that they felt were a strange and everchanging mix. It made Meirakeillian hesitate. She had planned to just eat the two of them, and find her way to the nearest port.

Yet, love was the reason she had died. She could taste it in the little bitch. Small, and conflicted, but the seeds had been lain. This human would weep tears if the rat died, and she lived.