The food was strangely bland, to the point that Dallion was convinced that the mages had done it on purpose. Still, it was nourishing and—after checking with the guardian of his bowl—devoid of poison. No one talked when in vicinity to Dallion, though it seemed more out of concern than dislike. Dallion could still sense the emotions of people emanating around him. It also helped that the item guardians continued to be exceedingly chatty. It was outright scary how much one could learn by having the empath trait. If there had been others with it the empire could have been in serious trouble.
Dallion poured the fifth bowl he was given into his own and continued eating. As he did, he kept on thinking about the encounter with the guardian. Everything considered, it was an impressive victory. And yet, it was only because the guardian hadn’t been dealt physical pain at all. From what Dallion could gather, each feather was like a living echo of the original creature, capable of having its own realm. It probably never had experienced battle—only the original creature did. That also explained how he had won the fight with a single hit. When dealing with the actual creature things were going to be far more complicated. For one thing there was no telling whether the real aetherbird would allow Dallion to touch it.
You gave too much for too little, Nil grumbled. He didn’t approve the deal Dallion had made with Eleria at all. You should have asked for more things in addition.
I’m not convinced she would have agreed to that, Dallion replied.
Well, now we’ll never know, will we? I thought that your negotiating skills had improved since you’d become a hunter, but it seems that’s not exactly the case.
Back to your grumpy phase, Nil? I got what I needed. Besides, I owed her from before.
Because of the bestiary? It’s nothing compared to what you allowed her to see. Entering the realm of a phoenix feather… Do you know how many have tried to achieve that and failed? I honestly don’t know anyone who has? The old hag is probably already started writing a research paper on the subject. I wouldn’t be surprised if it gets her the archmage position in a few decades.
It was obvious that the echo was really upset that it wasn’t the one who had witnessed the feather’s realm. Dallion had tried to explain it, of course. He had even gone as far as to have Gen and Ariel recreate a miniature version of it in his own awakening realm—minus the constant changing. That had only annoyed Nil even further.
The main problem, though, was the location that the feather had said. Erekol wasn’t familiar to Nil, Vihrogon, or even Harp. The only consensus was that the name sounded copyette, but there was no guarantee that it was. If that happened to be the case, though, it was destroyed several ages ago. As Harp had said, there wasn’t even a guarantee that most copyette guardians would know of it. As in any age, cities rose and fell rather frequently. Dallion had the option to return to Nerosal and ask Aspan about it. However, the recent cult attack suggested that the race was on. Going back to the Priscord capital was going to waste too much time. Instead, the optimal plan was to head back to Linatol. There he could ask the guardian of the hunter’s den, inquire where the Night Auction had gotten its feather from, as well as have a talk with the local bishop.
Might be good to pass by the other settlement on your way back, Vihrogon said. It’s not that far away, and you can help regrow the trees. They’ll appreciate it.
Yeah, I’ll do that.
Hopefully, the war clerics had time to cool off a bit.
You doing alright, Shield? You’ve been quiet lately.
It’s nothing, the guardian said. I just have a few things on my mind. Everything that’s been happening lately got me thinking about the past. Things that were supposed to be gone, coming back… Once again it’s a changing world.
It’s the first time I see you down. Even when the Vermillion wounded you, you weren’t like this.
There are all sorts of wounds. You should know that. The dryad’s tone sounded unusually cold. Sorry. It’s not cool to see a companion armor like this. Just give me some time. That’s all I ask. I’ll be back to being your emotional support soon enough.
Normally Dallion would make a snarky comment in response. This time, though, he chose not to abstain.
The meal done, Dallion discretely left the village; he had overstayed his welcome as it was. The scribe wasn’t there to guide him out, nor was anyone else for that matter. After another chorus of goodbyes from the dryad item guardians, Dallion continued back. One thing he noticed was that despite giving the appearance of not particularly caring about events in the outside world, the local mages were worried enough to post a few lookouts in the surrounding forest. They were making a good effort keeping hidden. If it wasn’t for the comments of one item or another Dallion wouldn’t have even known they were there.
It took one day to reach the settlement of the Order. When he arrived there, though, Dallion found it completely abandoned. No one had bothered to fix anything. Instead, they had just buried the dead, leaving a marker, and moved out.
Didn’t think the order would just run, Dallion thought.
The order words in mysterious ways, Nil said. They might have been ordered to abandon the place, or maybe a new army is already on its way to turn this into a monastery. One can never be sure.
You don’t like the Order much, do you?
Not particularly. I don’t dislike it either. It’s just something that is. Also, I didn’t have the benefit of being an initiate such as yourself.
How come?
Someday I might tell you, dear boy. Not today, though. Today, I’ll just remind you not to let your guard down. You were attacked the last time you were here. Who’s to say that those were the only cultists in the forest?
The warning made sense. Constantly splitting, Dallion checked the remains and nearby areas for any further clues. The only thing he found were indications that the clerics had removed a few things from the settlement, though thinking back, he couldn’t remember there ever being anything special there. Whatever it was, it was large enough to be held in a structure of its own. Thanks to his layer vision, Dallion was able to see the drag marks, even if the clerics had done their best to cover up the ground as it had been before. The Order hadn’t chosen this spot at random, after all.
It took half a day to make the stumps sprout. There were more of them than Dallion remembered. Thankfully, doing that gave Dallion time to think and come up with a plan of how to proceed. News of his task had clearly made it out, so it was best if he avoided smaller settlements. Towns and cities had an abundance of guards lately, and even the cultists wouldn’t be so brazen to openly attack. On the flip side, every action Dallion did there would be followed. On the other hand, traveling alone would keep him hidden, though vulnerable.
From the settlement, Dallion abandoned the established forest path, choosing to move along the tree branches. The further away he went from the previous settlements, the more he could sense animals in the surroundings, from common animals and predators, to wilderness creatures. However, they weren’t all. After a while, a new presence became felt. It would keep a considerable distance away. If Dallion had any less perception, he would have failed to notice it at all.
They’re not giving up, Harp said.
I know, Dallion replied. He hadn’t noticed there were more of them. Gleam, I’ll need your help with this. You too, Ruby.
What’s your plan? Gleam asked.
Use illusion to make yourself into your shardfly form, then hide in the trees. When you see who’s following me, attack. I only need one of them.
Ruby’s not ready to face something this strong…
That’s what you’re for. Keep an eye on the kid and teach him a few tricks. He’ll have to get stronger if he wants to keep up with everything that’s going on.
The ruby shardfly flickered its wings. While still occasionally drawing on the walls of Dallion’s room back in the Gremlin’s Timepiece, the creature was doing its best to impress. Flying off Dallion’s shoulder, he joined Gleam, who had changed the appearance of the whip blade into that of her guardian form, going up along the bark of a tree. Pausing a few seconds, Dallion continued onwards.
The plan wasn’t the best he had come up with. Leaving them to deal with a cultist wasn’t something he liked doing, but didn’t have much choice.
A minute later, the trap sprung. The sound of snapping branches reached Dallion’s ears. Doing a one-eighty he ran along the branches of the trees as fast as he could. The enemy presence was undeniable at this point.
Gleam, what’s going on? he asked in his realm
He’s a tough one. We’ll deal with it.
How’s Ruby?
He’s a bit startled, but fine. Just get here.
She didn’t need to tell him twice. Soon enough Dallion was able to see treetops splinter as shardfly wing slashes filled the area. Avoiding such a combined attack was like dancing through a hurricane of razor blades, and yet the enemy managed to avoid them all. The skills and perception of the person involved had to be spectacular. Furthermore, Dallion wasn’t able to sense any emotions outside of those belonging to the plants, suggesting that his attackers were wearing blocker rings.
Why are you here? Dallion asked, addressing any unseen guardians.
There was no answer. Apparently, the guardians weren’t as chatty as the dryads at the mage’s outpost. Of course, Dallion had no intention of leaving things there. Drawing his harpsisword, he played several chords filling the air with overconfidence, focusing on guardians in particular. A chorus of trees followed, sharing what they would do to shardflies if they could. Among the trees, there was a single other voice that Dallion knew didn’t belong to the forest.
Going for the throat, a dry male voice whispered.
On the second Dallion split into instances, moving in all directions. Hardly had he done so than a flying knife hit the side of the throat of an instance of his; the second attacker had just joined the fight.
Turning in the direction of the attack, Dallion switched the fashion in which he was holding the harpsisword and did a line attack. Tree tops fell off like grass, revealing Dallion’s opponent. It was just a glimpse, but enough to show that the person was a mercenary, and not only that.
“Gorgon?” Dallion grabbed his dartblade with his free hand.
In all his travels throughout the province, Dallion had only seen a few gorgon mercenaries. They were rare, extremely well trained, not to mention expensive. He never imagined them to be cultists. Probably when the first attack attempt had failed, the Star had sent in the big guns. That explained why Gleam and Ruby were having such a hard time. A pair of shardflies could be devastating, though not against a well-trained gorgon.
The gorgon who had attacked Dallion was probably thinking the same thing, for he smiled. Then, without an ounce of mercy or hesitation, he opened his eyes.
Just great, Dallion thought as the effects of petrification took hold. It had been years since he had been petrified, but he still remembered the sensation and it was anything but pleasant. Lux, do your thing.