Chapter 15-403: Shadows at Sea, Part IV

“We have something to ease your mind.”

“What is that?” King Oichio could not think of anything that would still the whirlwind of vengeance he wanted to inflict on the enemies of his Kingdom.

Whole Clans subverted to the Devourer and the Black Depths. Cults to the Old Ones. Hunters of their own people: cannibals, murderers, traitors, blasphemers and heretics of the highest order!

What was even grimly hilarious about it was that his vizier and his queen had not even known that each of them stood at the apex of their organizations, and had both worked together openly and against one another in the shadows, completely unaware that both of them were traitors at the heart of his Kingdom.

Their followers had certainly not been happy to have such knowledge taken from the pair of them, and the trails and leads were still ongoing. It was a bloody purge, and the taint it had revealed infiltrating his Kingdom and his people...

The light hand of his rule had allowed heavier and darker hands to come in beneath it and prey on his people. Guilt, blame, rage, despair, and pain all swirled around him, and he did not know where it was going to end.

“You are aware of the atomic bombs?”

The odd question made him open his eyes and glance at the horned, flawless features with the glowing Tattoos where should be eyes.

“Of course. Several were tested in waters not far from here,” he rasped heavily. “Mighty things, hinting at the powers of the Old Ones...”

“Lady Traveler is mapping the whole of the oceans, and the peoples of the surface are going to drop such weapons on all the places where the dark races of the waters dwell.”

Even the Dragon King of Lemuria had to pause as that startling information was given to him. “That... was why she was here?” King Oichio rumbled after a long moment of contemplation.

“She wanted to know the locations of your people so that the bombs were not dropped on them. The tritons gave us the information for the peoples of the Atlantic.”

He breathed in long and slow. “She has the information of where all such gatherings are, but she does not know exactly who dwells in each of them...”

“That is correct, Your Majesty,” Legion confirmed.

“The surface-dwellers... do they have enough such devices to do the job?”

“We have been told they have in excess of five thousand atomic weapons, split between all the many countries. The weapons are useless and even dangerous to them if and when the Shroud falls, so they are determined to put them to use before it does... and to prevent the lethal races of the ocean from pulling in their Patrons and causing even more trouble than they are now.”

King Oichio sat back, staring out over the picturesque view of his kingdom, contrasting it with the blood he could smell in the waters, and pictured what he could remember of those atomic tests.

A great explosion. A ball of fire. Massive shockwaves through the water, killing radiation sweeping through those close by.

Even underwater, the destruction would be immense. Super-heated steam would kill Deep Ones and Sahaug easily, and even those with demonic blood would not be able to resist such direct damage easily. Certainly their slave races and minions would perish utterly.

“You have... given her this information?” he guessed.

“Yes. There will be no such bombs dropped on any settlements of merfolk that the Kingdom is aware of.”

“But the foul things... they will die boiling in fire, at the bottom of the sea!” His big fists clutched at the thought and the irony.

“Yes, and vivic fire will feed them to the Land,” Legion confirmed calmly. “There is another, more personal thing to share with you.”

“Yes?” He caught subtle undertones there that made his blood start pumping despite himself, and could not help but look at the sinuous and twisting nine tails that flowed together so smoothly, but could separate and move fast enough, even underwater, that the crack of their movement was deafening, like the best parts of one strong tail, and nine octopoid ones...

“You are attracted to Our draconic Bloodline. We cannot pass it on, for the exact same reason as the Dagonic Bloodline cannot be allowed to exist.”

It took him a moment to process that. “Ah...” was all he could say with a glance at her. And yet, the fact did not repel him like it should. “You have... the option of passing it on?”

“We do not have a Bloodline unique to us. We can only pass on the Bloodlines of those we have Consumed... and the draconic Bloodline We have is not something We will pass on.”

“Does that not make you vulnerable to an elder of the Bloodline?” he asked, not at all repelled by her ability. He could look right at her and see her, after all... and she was directly telling him this up front, so he would have no illusions.

“We can de-emphasize the Bloodline as readily as We can indulge it. That is not an issue.” Her tails split and came back together with leisurely ease, making his heart jump with the sensuous ripples and control of it. “Also, I am an outsider, and it would not be wise to inflict upon them such a one as us. We will not give you an heir, and you need a Queen anew.”

He slumped slightly, his ambitions somewhat foiled... but he did not move his arm, and she did not pull away when his jade and gold tail slid familiarly against hers. The touch was electric, and he closed his eyes just to feel the tingles of it.

“Let me help you rest, Your Majesty,” that calm voice, with so many, many layers to it, said softly, and he felt a surge of power coming right up his spine. He’d felt that power, seen her using it, but experiencing it like this was completely something else.

A golden wave washed across his mind, soft bells and chimes rang in the distance, and reassuring peace and relaxing serenity rose to do quiet battle with the whirlwind of emotions stewing inside him.

He relaxed in their arms despite himself, giving himself over to their care as he closed his eyes there, gazing out over his city. They took him carefully, and held him like gossamer and steel.

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Leaving the Sea Dragon Kingdom of Lemuria was somewhat more difficult than Legion had expected of themselves.

Despite their synchronization to Master Fred, the fact remained that there were a great number of them, and remnants of personality tended to congregate together. Also, the simple fact was that their emotional ranges were far greater than his, and so, although the core of their conjoined personality always remained stable and sure, well, they had many desires, likes, dislikes, ambitions, goals, and dreams. Some conflated, although many were abruptly squelched and discarded as they opposed their Core, and they were not sorry to see them go.

They were effectively making themselves into a gestalt, they knew, but they did not regret it. It was far better than burning on the Hell Pact, and certainly than screaming in the Shroud. They were about as close to a goddess as the mortal world could handle, and that alone satisfied many of them on a deep, deep level.

They were Pactbound, yes, but even that was now on their terms, since the draconic Bloodline had elevated them.

They were Independent. They no longer had to beg for power from another, sit in the shadow of another power, or be beholden to another power.

In many ways, they were power.

It felt... very good. Freedom from so many constraints on themselves and their pasts, as if the whole world, multiple worlds, had opened up to them.

Obligations and Pacts were now agreements to see more, do more, to pick and choose of their own will who and what to help and aid, without being tied down by mortal weaknesses.

To build a better world, where the lives they’d lived did not have to happen, where they could be made better.

Some of Queen Wima’s descendants were with them now. They joined the descendants of Syasstrax, knowing what had been done to them, their destiny as slaves and pawns for the glorification and power of the subverted mer-queen.

Exact same treatment. Exact same doom. They all had to die, or their Bloodline would doom everyone.

Utter loss of Free Will. Even considering the situation they were under themselves, it was harrowing to think of. They might be restricted by Master Fred’s unmoving ethics, but they still weren’t slaves... they had the right to choose to disengage, sit on the Hell Pact, or be released into the Shroud.

Or they could have many lovers and be a goddess saving the world. It was a hard decision, yes, indeed...

They could have taken the Lemurian crown effortlessly. Could have taken the throne, too. They had the power to do so, had effortlessly earned the King’s trust and his heart... and they already were the Queen. Simplicity itself, especially knowing what his own traitorous vizier knew.

That said, their collective wisdom knew it was very much the wrong move. They had Pacts and obligations, and as Traveler said, one day they would be the Grand Master of Warlocks for this whole world. What was a mere Queen, compared to that?

They would be the first wall the things outside this world would have to face to set their foot upon Terra! They had looked at the stars when Traveler opened the skies, and seen so many things staring back...

Very, very powerful things.

They had power, but it was all relative. There were thousands of them, but yet only one.

Thus, they could only do what they could do, and if they could now enjoy themselves in the downtime, they also had motivation from On High and Down Low, and a relentless work ethic that would not allow themselves to fall back down into that slavery, or obey the whims and desires of the mad, the deranged... the Evil.

Their wings spread automatically as they settled down before the Obelisk ahead of them. It was situated on the Adare Peninsula, where one of the few Antarctic bases was still intermittently manned by Australian, New Zealand, British, and Americans, mostly to monitor anything foul that might rise in this cold and unforgiving land. Still, they did perform some scientific research, but the armed presence here was not for show.

They would also be evacuating well before the Shroud fell, as getting home using wind power might be a bit difficult.

Still, things had taken a subtle, yet remarkable turn for the better when Traveler had erected the Obelisk here, with the Covenant between mortals and Ughril carved in Human, Elven, Dwarven, Orcish, Goblin, Celestial, and Aquan upon it. The words glowed with power, and were clearly visible and readable day or night, no ice or snow daring to stick to the somber granite it was wrought from.

The men and women of Adare Base left offerings to Ughril, small but honest, and they murmured quiet words to Her... perhaps not prayers, but things She could hear and observe and measure, and perhaps intervene in, as the offerings always vanished come the dusk...

The moaning of the winds from the Mountains was less. Things no longer came down off from the high ice to bedevil them, and the dark presence in the local waters seemed to have ebbed significantly.

Everywhere mortals had a base in Antarctica, the Obelisks had risen as a statement and a reminder.

Word now was that the Mother of Ice was building a Priesthood, and they were proving their faith in China, taking down the abominations that were Cultivators. When that conflict was done, they would be coming to Antarctica to set up formal temples and churches here... and there was something grand at the South Pole that only the mightiest of mortals would be allowed to peruse.