Time Since Reckless Self-Endangerment: 5 Days 1 Hour

Goal: Save Tarquin

As he watched Matteos being dragged away, Nic cursed. It didn’t matter if he got the big guy free now. He’d definitely fucked up the trust between them, and at present, Nic had to no way to speak and make that right.

But that was a problem for after his jailbreak.

Nic slid back into his tunnels and sealed the entrance behind him, leaving no open tunnels for some hapless human to stumble upon.

The wyvern chirruped and then began to glow, patterns of luminous gold emerging on its green wings and lighting up the dark passageway.

“Well that’s new.”

“It’s continued to grow without you. It might even be on the verge of evolving.”

“Think they’ll still be a cutie when they do?” Nic rubbed the wyvern under the chin. It harrumphed happily, smoke trailing from its nostrils.

“I suspect it will continue to be small, whatever form it takes. However, I’d highly consider taking it as your third bond. The presence of draconic blood will open up countless options in its growth.”

“Huh. I was going to take them because…” Nic dug into his bag. “I need a host for this.” The Ink-Fathoms shard had been gifted to him by the System specifically to let him communicate with the world. It didn’t fit well with Redjaw or Sunfire, neither of whom was particularly chatty, and both of whom would need their Primary slots to develop their specialty.

What he needed was a companion who’d carry the odd utility Shards he picked up. One with a mind of their own, able to put the more complicated abilities to use.

And judging by the wyvern’s reaction it was happy to volunteer. It leapt from his shoulders onto the Shard, which was almost its own size, and grasped the crystal in its scaly wings. A glow poured out as the glass-like Shard sank into its body, sparks pouring along its skin.

Until it was gone. Ink-dark shadows swept over its body, manifesting into tiny letters scrawled across its wings. On its neck, just where its shoulders met, a jet-black onyx the size of a fingernail crystalized in the shape of a single scale.

Nic took the moment to slip his knife out and delicately cut a single drop of blood away. He mixed it into the last of the inkstone from the inscription kit, and lifted the needle to bite into his skin. As the ink spread outwards his mind came into contact with the wyvern’s-

It was unlike the other two.

Completely.

They had filled his mind with a river of disconnected, crude visions, flowing together into something resembling speech.

The wyvern’s mind was a single, solid place. It was a high mountain with a single tree growing from the peak, and soft white petals that drifted down as the cold wind pulled them from the branches. A stream flowed between the grey stone and carried melting flecks of snow downwards. The clouds were beneath, a field of white.

The little wyvern was much bigger in this mental space. Not a full, enormous tyrant of the skies, but big enough to coil around the tree completely.

“Who are you? Why did you bring me from my world to this new one?”

Nic was taken aback. He’d actually- not really thought twice about taking the wyvern from its mountain peak in the Saturnalia’s tiny world. And after a moment, he said so. “Because I could, I guess.”

“That is a dragon’s answer.” The wyvern seemed oddly pleased. “Where are you taking me?”

“Upwards. Onwards. Just going to keep cultivating, I guess. I have friends to save and all but really, I don’t get to do that- I don’t even get to live- unless I’m strong. I’ve been powerless before, and I’m not going back.”

And that was- hard to accept. That there’d never be a peace longer than a few days. That there’d always be pressure on him. It was like staring up at a mountain and knowing you’d never reach the heights.

There was no peak to find. Only an endless ascension.

“Then I’m going the same way, and we can walk together. Because someday. Someday...”

The wyvern’s wings reached out, and for a moment the entire sky went dark with its shadow.

“I WILL BE HUGE AND MAGNIFICENT! THE EARTH SHALL TREMBLE! THE SKIES WILL GO DARK! ONE BREATH, AND THOUSANDS WILL BE SWEPT AWAY BY MY FURY!”

Nic tried very hard not to laugh.

“Alright, alright. Since we’re both on the way up the mountain, let’s go there together.”

“Yesss…” The wyrm hissed. “And the pact is forged.”

Between one blink and the next, Nic slipped out of the mental realm and back to reality. The wyvern was tiny again, fitting neatly in his cupped palms as it craned its scaly neck back and forth to examine the markings on its wings.

The ink he’d pushed into his skin had taken the form of a dragon with wings outstretched, set over a tree whose broad branches and outstretched roots formed a braided circle.

It looked up at him, its dark eyes blinking. Its beak cracked open and a scaly voice slipped out. “You can… understand me now?”

It was perfect All-Tongue. The language Logos had built to be understood by every living thing. There was a scaly, reptilian rasp to the words, but that was only a slight accent.

“Yep.” He sent back through their mental bond. “From now on, you can be my voice.”

“And a fearsome voice I shall be! The HEAVENS will weep to hear my battlecries! The humans will TREMBLE at the sound, for it will herald my TERRIBLE sting!” Nic was on the verge of laughing again as the tiny beast’s chest puffed up, every word exhaling gouts of poison smoke. “They will call me Inkspur, out of COLD FEAR for my deadly sting and my clever words…”

“Inkspur.” Nic repeated, nodding. It was a good name.

“Inkspur the TERRIBLE.” The wyvern added with pride.

The newly-named Inkspur ran up his arm and onto his head, perching there, scaly head raised and wings bleeding a green-gold light on the walls of the tunnel.

“Alright. Sofia, Inkspur. Gather in. Right now I’ve put tunnels under the entire human camp. Pit traps, false ends, a whole maze. That’s not going to be enough on its own.” Nic leaned down and sketched a crude map of the human camp across the floor. “I need more- more distraction, more chaos.”

“POISON.” Inkspur hissed. “IN THEIR WATER SUPPLY. UNTIL THEY CANNOT BREATHE WITHOUT PAIN.”

“That… It’s farther than I’m willing to go. This isn’t just a camp full of enemies. Most of the people there are basically slaves.” Even if it was an idea with a certain brutal efficiency to it.

“It’s a shame we don’t have time to return to the valley and bring back a sufficient quantity of blessed water. If we could introduce enough of that to their supply, it would kill or injure only the cursed among them, who seem to be their strongest troops. A selective poison, the best of both worlds.”

“But they’ll kill the elves as soon as they have ten, I’m guessing. They’re rounding them up so their best warriors can complete the quest all at one go. Matteos might only be safe for a few hours before they decide what to do with him…” Nic groaned.

He had already decided on when to attack. There was a thin time between sunset and true dusk when his ring was half-silver, half-gold, with all the benefits and drawbacks of both forms. He was stealthy and powerful, but fragile and easily exhausted. It was a double-edged sword that was ideal for a quick, violent ambush.

It also set a time limit on how long he could fight. Once the golden hour of twilight passed, the ring would turn to pure silver and he’d have to retreat.

“It’s a shame the elves are too far away to help. If I went and got them everyone could be dead before I returned.” Nic sighed.

“I note you didn’t turn over Sula’s request for peace.”

“It doesn’t really matter now, does it? Either this is a dealbreaker, in which case I might as well throw the scroll away, or she’s willing to look the other way while they hunt her people- in which case, what kind of peace is it?”

“Open it. Maybe she has some way of getting the humans to give up the hunt.”

As the day passes, the shadows grow long under the evening sun, sharpening themselves like knives. All things turn towards violence given enough time, for our world is not peaceful. But you are new, and have innocence left in you, so I will make you an offer.

I am Sula Mahreen, and my world was once tested as yours is being tested now. I know many of the trials you will face, and hold a great deal of wisdom for overcoming them. It would be far better for you to learn them through me than through fire and bloodshed.

Make no mistake. The System will pay you for the blood of my people - and I will make you pay with your own blood in turn. Peace will cost you nothing, and earn you my gratitude, my wisdom, and my aid should you need it.

I come with a sword in one hand and a bird of peace in the other. And I await your choice.

Nic read through it twice. It was less naive and optimistic than she’d made the peace offer sound - she was outright threatening them with a blood feud that would leave no survivors.

But in his estimation it was precisely the kind of peace these jackals would respect. One that came backed up with force.

“I’m thinking… causing a little violence in their camp will actually make this offer more appealing. Prove the point, you know?” Nic said slowly. “I don’t think they’ll stop just because we ask them to. But if we show them how bad we can hurt them…”

“I’d tend to agree. Diplomacy works best when the alternative to peace is thoroughly unpleasant.”

“Diplomacy is TWISTING YOUR ENEMY’S ARM until they admit YOU’VE ALREADY WON.” Inkspur puffed. “But I have an idea. You say these elves are too far away for you - but I have WINGS. I could rush there and deliver a message...“

“That’s… Yeah, that works…” Nic scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Yeah. And I can start working on some runes...” There were plenty of simple, utilitarian designs that could produce chaos and confusions. Runes meant for lanterns and lamps could be reversed to suck all the ambient light out of the air. Runes meant to record voices could produce the kind of volume that would daze and confuse an enemy.

Nic knew relatively few designs beyond those Totemic Petroglyphs gave him an instinctive mastery over. But those he did know were some of the most flexible and useful in the known worlds.

“I WILL GIFT YOU MY INK!”

“Inside voice.” Nic winced. Thankfully the walls of the tunnel were thick enough to muffle any sound, but still - the little wyvern was right next to his ear.

“I will give you ink to work with. A powerful gift, for which you shall be grateful…” The wyvern hissed. Quieter this time, thankfully.

Nic finally had to give in and laugh. It was very different, planning one of these adventures out instead of thinking on his feet and rolling with an endless series of punches. It was different being one in a trio of conspirators, instead of working on his own.

But life was like that. You tried your best to live your own way, and you picked up people going the same direction.

It felt good, honestly. And soon he’d have Tarquin by his side.

Soon he’d be strong enough to have friends without worrying someone would take them from him.