Chapter Six Hundred And Ninety Two – 692

Chapter Six Hundred And Ninety Two – 692

With a final, massive blow, the ward flashed and collapsed in on itself. Tarok started forward, a hammer in his hand. Without another word, he reared back and swung, shattering the frame around the portal. The vault door and the locking mechanism that held it shut collapsed, falling inward with a grand crash.

Tarok choked up on his hammer and grinned at the men around him. "We've done it," he said. "Lieutenant Gigg, clear this dust."

His lieutenant raised his hands, and a short, sharp breeze rippled through the area, pulling the stone dust from the air down into the ground, instantly clearing their sight lines into the room beyond.

Sivas Grace. Tarok refused to blink, for worry that what he saw would vanish like an illusion. Before them all was a long hall pockmarked by wide alcoves, each filled with serpentine statues. Dragons.

In the open mouth of each Dragon were glass-like objects easily bigger than the Dragoon Captains torso.

"Domain cores," Tarok said breathlessly. They were so large and numerous that he could hardly believe his eyes. Dozens of alcoves, hundreds possibly, extended down the hall where two other rooms split off to the left and right. Each contained a statue and a core. Grown from Dragons.

Noting the sigaldry down the statues and up onto the ceiling, he traced them all down the hall toward a central, rounded wall, where a number of complex glyphs shone dully in the dark. It was clear to him that the Domain cores were meant for generating power for the fortress. At one point, they no doubt aided in creating the hidden Nests for the mature Dragons that his people had once trusted with their lives.

Tarok walked up to the nearest Domain core. It was beautiful, a faceted gem of irregular size and a deep, shifting color. However, a large crack marred its surface, robbing it of any light it may have once held. He looked to the next alcove, and the one after that. Every single one was flawed, cracked, or entirely shattered.

"Useless," Tarok growled, throwing the pieces of a core onto the ground. They rang like bells. "Spread out. Find any that work."

His men did so without question, moving through the area with a calm, orderly efficiency that befitted a true Dragoon. Within a few minutes, his order had borne fruit. Fifteen cores were without flaw and still alight with the churn of liquid power. Glory swelled in Taroks breast alongside righteous satisfaction. With five Domain cores of such size, they could purchase a fleet of Manaships, and the remaining ten would power them all.

"Gather them up," Tarok instructed his men. His hands were shaking with contained glee and he gripped his weapons tight. "We will use these as our rightful bounty."

It was fitting, in his eyes, that the cursed Dragons would leave them one final gift. A gift that would rip the control of his army, and the fate of PaxVrell, out of the hands of the Daynes.

In the turret at the top of Fortress Fenwald, the Grim Nightshade regarded them. "I can already tell that you have bonded yourself to a mortal, Yintarian of the Cerulean Skies. Do you so desperately wish for a return of the past that you would repeat its mistakes? Did the Oathbreaker teach you nothing?"

Yin made a strangled sound somewhere in his throat. "My Dragoon was loyal until her end. Emissary of the Green Wilds or not, I will not have you besmirch her name."

"You think I speak of your mortal riders?" The small mouse laid back its ears. "I speak of the Oathbreaker, the Weaver of Lies and Thief of Fate."

A jolt of lightning cut through Vess' core, stabbing her limbs while they bloomed inside her mind. She'd heard those titles. One of them was Felix's, and the other...

"You speak of Siva," Vess asked, "the Goddess of Fortune?"

The sheer derision that poured from the Grim's expression was palpable enough to press her back on her heels. "A thief is not a queen simply because she steals a crown."

"We are not speaking of her," Yin said, attempting to redirect the conversation. "I do not slave myself to the gods, Grim. I am free now, and will not be tethered again."

The inscriptions went dead as the glowing cores were removed, one by one and carried to the captain. His men walked about, plucking the least broken Domain cores from their alcoveseven they could be of use in the war effort.

Captain, Isomething feels wrong Lieutenant Gigg, carrying two fully alight cores, gasped as a flash of power pulsed through them all. His entire body went rigid, and he fell, hitting the stone floor so hard hehe shattered.

What in Sivas name? Tarok took a step toward the dead Dragoon. Gigg?

All around him, the sigaldry flashed a deep crimson and purple. Zipping flows of Mana shot across the ceiling and into the central pillar, igniting specific sigils on its way. Around him, the still-whole Domain cores flared with sympathetic light, and Tarok howled in pain.

Everyone still touching a Domain core collapsed with a groan as their power fled them, pouring into any nearby cores, even as they clattered onto the ground. Broken Domain cores flickered into fitful life, spitting sparks into the air from the top of their alcoves as if the Dragons were breathing once again.

Tarok took a pain filled step back, flaring his Perception as he tried to grasp exactly what had gone wrong. Each and every Dragoon around him had collapsed, clutching at their chests as Mana and something else seemed to be pulled from their Gates.

An ancient series of swirling glyphs formed of gaseous mana appeared on the foundational pillar. It taunted him with its meaning, but Tarok couldnt parse it through his dimming vision. The shape changed, bolstered now by rigid, crystalline structures that traced its edges.

Somewhere distant, a terrible roar ripped through the air.

Tarok fell to his knees, his own power fleeing from his Mana Gates until his limbs felt as weak as a childs. "What is this?"

There was no answer as he fell, and the stone around him was rent asunder.

"Supreme Primordial?" Vess asked, confusion etching his features. "I do not understand.

The gods were not always gods, Dragoon." The spirit considered her with its black, depthless eyes. "For whence did you think they sprang?"

All around them, the fortress shook, as if something stirred at its heart. Everyone glanced about, their faces a mask of confusion and alarm.

"A great force has stirred," Hollow said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The stone quails."

Your people violate the laws they once held dear. The honored dead are defiled. The Grim tilted its head, its gaze never leaving Vess. "I think the terms of this bargain have changed."

"What?" Vess flinched as a roar shook the battlements, the sound originating from outside.

"Do not let him move," Yin bellowed, his command echoing through the air.

A chitinous cage formed around the creature, just as the Grim shifted its stance. Thick bars held it in place, but with a single whipping motion, the Grim shattered it. Beef recoiled, his face contorted in pain.

"Live or die," the spirit intoned, its voice resonating with an eerie calm. Vess wasn't sure if it was the ground shaking, or if the spirits now naked, bloodthirsty Intent quaked the entirety of the world. "Show me your worth!"

It attacked, while outside the world fell apart.