6.51 - Can We Go To Bed?
Theo had never seen such a large array of kegs, casks, and bottles in his life. Someone—likely Alise—had imported enough booze to burn the town to the ground. Not that the drinks themselves would destroy the town, but the temperment of half-ogres after consuming them. He watched as Tresk danced to the music coming from a wooden stage, sipping on sweet mead and taking in the sights. The poor marshling still couldn’t dance, but she certainly tried her best.
“What’s wrong with your goose?” Fenian asked. He had his feet kicked up, head lolling back as he watched the festivities with a dizzy expression.
“She wants to be a dragon,” Theo said with a shrug. “Who am I to stop her?”
“You’re so coy. The locals might not catch on, but I know a familiar doesn’t spontaneously evolve.”
“I like how you call me coy while being coy,” Theo said, taking another sip. “Interesting.”
“Bah. You’re so hard to deal with. Where did she get the dragon’s bones and can I have some?”
Theo smiled to himself. Fenian always pretended as though he was clueless. But the man had a handle on almost everything. The alchemist would only be surprised if he didn’t know something. “Tell me why you want them. My intuition says you want to inspect the item to learn the dragon’s name.”
“I like the stupid version of you better.”
“Why would you care about the dragon’s name?”
Fenian sighed. “An interest in history.”
“Why would you care about history? Just a passing fancy?”
“An obsession,” Fenian corrected. “I need to know what happened before my time.”
Fenian had an interesting way to phrase things. ‘Before my time’ was oddly specific, even for him. From what Theo could gather, Fenian had been operating for at least 100 years. He suspected the elf’s wife died at that time, meaning they lived a meaningful life before that. But where his story started before that catalyst of a moment was still unknown.
“I suppose most people don’t know about the dragon ascendants,” Theo started, watching the slight twitch on Fenian’s face. “But I guess you do.”
“Which one was it?” Fenian asked.
Theo smiled to himself. “Quindalias.”
Fenian withdrew a notebook, writing the name down. Theo wasn’t surprised that he couldn’t read the words on the page. It wasn’t just in another language, but some enchantment prevented anyone but the elf from reading it.
“It doesn’t say which Dragon Aspect she was, does it?”
Theo withdrew a small chunk of the bone. He withdrew his hand when Fenian grasped for it. “We’re working on being honest, aren’t we?”
“That goes both ways,” Fenian said, hiccuping.
Theo handed the bone over, reclining on the bench. “I might as well hand a sample over before I turn the others into a potion. For now, I want them locked up in dimensional spaces. Anyone with a brain knows what you did with Balkor’s bone.”
Fenian laughed, shaking his head. “They used to say if you had a piece of divinity, you could attain it yourself. A pass to the old heavens, perhaps.”
“Was that true?”
“No. Making a pact with an ascendant was the best way to get up there. The bones of a fallen ascendant are only good for influencing the world with their power. Like an invisible well gushing aligned water.”
“So, you poisoned the land to get at Karasan,” Theo said, pursing his lips. Perhaps another person would see Fenian in chains—or worse—for such a thing. But the elf was calculating. He was vengeful, but there were always many parts to his schemes. “Explain that to me. Justify yourself.”
Fenian smiled, draining his glass and getting another. He held his mug up, toasting. “Balkor’s Betrayal. More like Balkor’s Gambit. Descending to the mortal plane was a way for him to seed his bones, revealing the Thrones of Power. I wasn’t part of the plan to start, but found a niche to fill. Karasan was being controlled, and would have destroyed your alliance.”
“You had to unleash an undead plague to stop him?” Theo asked.
“I’m just one elf. Balkor’s realm was part of my plan. The only way to get there was to awaken it. I intended to die in that realm, you know. Once I got my revenge, I thought the thirst would end. But it didn’t. I used my wife’s anti-mage cores to do it, you know? Could you imagine?”
Theo’s face darkened, his face fixed in a grimace. “I can’t imagine that.”
“Bleeding the energy from the bones was the only way I could find to destroy the shadow of Balkor on the mortal realm.”
“Yet you let the last piece get away.”
Not only was today important because of the wedding. But it was the first day of the Season of Death. Not that Broken Tusk would experience much of autumn. They were far south enough as to almost be tropical. Where Qavell had been in a temperate climate, the southlands had always been hot. Theo hoped for the weather to calm down. If only a little. He wasn’t confident about crafting enough fuel for the town’s air conditioners with his new alchemy system. Perhaps they could cool the important buildings, but no more.
Theo watched as an improvised bonfire blazed near the town’s monolith. Most of the band that had been playing were passed out, only the drummer still beating a steady rhythm. Tresk danced arm-in-arm with a random elf. A scattering of other people stood around, half-heartedly swaying with the slowing beat. The alchemist sipped his mead, never having drank enough to feel much. This seemed like a decent end to a strange time. He hadn’t yet fixed the space elves or the shards, but he had a path forward. With such a strange issue, he couldn’t expect more than that.
“I’m sleepy,” Tresk said, shuffling over to sit near Theo. “You just gonna sit all night?”
Theo gestured to the thinning crowd. It must have been past midnight. “With such a lively crowd, I’d rather just watch.”
“Good one. Eavesdropped on you talking with Fenian. You giving my dragon bones away?”
“He really enjoyed the piece I gave him. Sometimes you just have to give the man a bone to chew on. Y’know?”
“I most certainly do not.” Tresk slumped forward. “Can we go to bed?”
“Yeah,” Theo said. He helped Tresk stand as he did. Alex had already returned to her comfortable barn. Zarali and Xol’sa retreated to the tower hours ago. There wasn’t much left to enjoy here. The pair headed for the manor.
Xol’sa was responsible for creating the tethers and beacons Theo would need to bring the shards back. It might be hard placing them throughout the world, but that was a problem for another time. So long as the space elf wasn’t busy with his marital duties, it wouldn’t take that long to finish.
Theo and Tresk returned to the manor, finding it silent. Sarisa and Rowan were already asleep. Just like most of the town. They made their way to the top floor bedroom, falling into what thin amount of the Dreamwalk was left. The moment they entered, all sense of tiredness washed away. A phantom scene of the party they had just attended appeared, revelers fighting through the streets and draining entire kegs into their opened mouths. This was a fond memory for Tresk... apparently.
Alex came flapping in from the sky, stirring up the dirt over the cobbles. She landed, the ground shaking beneath her.
“What’s your plan for the night, buddy?” Tresk asked.
Theo clicked his tongue, shrugging. “I’m not sure I’ll do much. Until Throk makes the next iteration of my stills, I’m just waiting.”
“Wanna spy on some dreams?” Tresk asked, wiggling her eyebrows. Well, she didn’t have eyebrows, but she tried.
Theo shrugged. “Why not? Nothing creepy.”
“All I’ve got is creepy,” Tresk said, waving her hand through the air. Nothing happened immediately, but the scene shifted in time. They stood at the base of a ziggurat, an elven man Theo recognized as a colonist from the Wavecrest House standing near the bottom. Snakes were hissing from the steps. “This guy always dreams about the snakes. No idea what his deal is.”
“So, what value does this power from the Dreamer’s Core have?” Theo asked. “Spying on dreams is interesting, but how is it helpful for you? As the Dreamer?”
“When we’re trapped in heaven, I can go between dreams and deliver messages,” Tresk said. “It is a foolproof way to communicate with the mortal realm without being slapped by the gods.”
“Who are you people?” the elf said, turning and looking at the group with horror. “Archduke Theo... No, I swear I filled my production quota. Don’t beat me again!”
“I never beat him,” Theo said.
“Sounds like you beat him, though,” Tresk said, shaking her head.
The elven man cowered, holding his hands up defensively. “Not again!”
“How are you going to talk to them if they’re all like this?” Theo asked. “He isn’t making sense.”
“He makes a lot of sense if you think about it. You abuser.”
“I’ve never hit this man,” Theo said, folding his arms. “I would have remembered it.”
The man screamed.
“Let’s get out of here,” Tresk said, scoffing. “I’d rather not think about the obvious history of abuse you’ve laid, like the foundation to your own downfall. This is how you make a revolution, you know?”
Theo glared at Tresk. “Take us somewhere more interesting.”
Tresk laughed, the scene shifting again. “We’re just gonna snoop. Do a little snooping.”
Theo braced himself to view more weird dreams. At least it was an interesting distraction.