Dragonheart Core

Chapter 46: Small and Clever

Akkyst had very little idea of what was going on.

This… Bylk was the Chieftain of the Magelords, apparently. He could only guess that this group of goblins called themselves the magelords. And had a chieftain? That was already far more organized than the group he had come from.

But they were still goblins.

Bylk, with his wide, snaggle-toothed grin, leaned closer, waggling a finger. "You'll need to be up and walking if we're going to chat."

Akkyst glanced down. Ah, right, his front leg was shattered; frankly, enough had been happening he'd rather forgotten. He squinted at the goblin's extended fingers, glowing a pale white.

The stalking jaguar was hidden behind him, curled up under the spread of his shadow-attuned mana, and the bladehawk was hidden overhead, tucked away in an alcove. If he was up and walking, that would be all the more defense he could offer, and if Bylk was betraying him, then they still had the opportunity to run away. Certainly not the best option, but it had enough of a chance. He nodded.

Bylk's grin widened to a degree that really shouldn't be possible and he bopped his finger on the tip of Akkyst's nose.

A warm, sort of soothing feeling flowed through him, spilling down from his face and wrapping around his paw; it felt like water, but warm and comforting in a way caves hadn't yet managed to be, like he was back in the living halls, curled up on his algae bed with a stomach full of mushrooms. It felt like home.

And with a snap, his bone wove itself back together, muscles reconnecting and skin knitting across the wound. Akkyst blinked, gingerly setting it back on the ground. It held his weight the same as all his others.

Bylk did cough roughly, one of the jewels hanging from his ears losing its glow and going dim. "Damn," he hissed, spitting some backed-up phlegm on the ground by his feet. "You're mana-dense, ain't ya? Took a hell of a lot to heal you."

Akkyst settled for looking at him. The secret he could talk? He wasn't happy he had shared it, but that was important for getting understanding on both sides and having them see him as a sentient being. That was important.

Exposing that he came from what he was pretty sure was the Growth and born of pure mana?

Yeah, he'd be keeping that one a little closer to his chest. Judging by how much the war horde goblins had hated and spat at the very name of the Growth, he doubted it was popular ground.

And if he was going to survive this and get his fellow beasts out, he needed them not to attack him right now.

Bylk stared at him for another moment, pale eyes narrowed, before twitching his shoulders in what probably counted as a goblin shrug. "Suppose you cave bears take a lot. Never healed one of ya before."

Akkyst bobbed his head. That seemed like the safest response.

"Well then." Bylk cranked his head from side to side, cracking his knobbly fingers. His strange stone-esque clothing flowed as he turned around, ears jangling with jewels, and promptly stopped at the dozen of goblins encircling him. Their wide eyes were fixed on Akkyst.

Who was also rather frozen. Turned out those goblins could be silent when they wanted to.

Bylk snorted, waving his hands. He couldn't have come up to the chin of most of them but they all unerringly followed his movements, their own bone-studded ears flicking in his direction. "Out of here, brats, you got work to do—you can talk to him later. Go on and heal."

One of them groaned but they all obediently spread out, fingers lighting up in a myriad of colours. Akkyst shook himself, dust billowing off his fur, and did his best to convey at least some sort of question to the Chieftain.

Thankfully, the goblin seemed to pick it up. "Well." Bylk flashed him another appraising look. "You're a listening animal. Not too many around here, least not the ones that aren't already stone-drakes or elementals, and you still look young."

He spread his hands, letting a glow rise over their tips. "You look like you've got some unknown mana, and we love studying it. Nothing better. So of course they'd be plenty interested in what you have to say." He shrugged. "Figuratively speaking."

Well, Akkyst didn't want to be too fast of a judge of character, but he certainly liked these goblins more than the last. He didn't know their intentions yet but they spoke in the sort of cadence his burgeoning appreciation of wisdom appreciated, and they had tried to heal him even before they knew he could understand them.

And speaking of–

The other goblins, though not those helping to heal their brethren piled up in one corner of the cavern, were walking around to the other animals. In deep pits below the stone magma-salamanders roared and thrashed, trapped but still alive; goblins stood in careful positions overhead and threw down blue-tinged mana until the magma-salamanders stopped screaming. Akkyst bared his fangs but then the goblins shifted to using a pale grey mana, raising the stone back up to its previous height, and revealing the salamanders, curled up and asleep. Still alive.

Boulder-beasts had their broken limbs reset, their hides regrown; lightning rhinos had their horns repaired and their spines resharpened; the fang-rat, already dead, was carefully laid to rest beneath the stone. The goblins, rather smartly, didn't try to heal any creature without putting them to sleep first. They'd learned from their attempt with him, seemed like.

But why were they healing them?

Bylk puffed up a bit proudly when Akkyst swung his massive head in his direction, fiddling with his empty jewel and prying it out of his ear. It disappeared into his flowing robes. "We like to heal them up and release them back in the mountain; keeps the war horde from more monsters, and half a chance they'll go back and take revenge on their captors. Works for us."

Ah.

Partially magnanimous, mostly for their own advantage. At least they didn't try and pretend it was all for the sake of the creatures. Akkyst could appreciate that.

And it certainly made them better than the war horde.

"Been decades of war," Bylk groused, watching his people scuttling around and fixing the cavern, smoothing back the walls to their original shape. "We all started as one goblin tribe, then different factions, then different tribes. The miners didn't care about anyone, digging deep and fighting with the dwarves, and we just wanted to study mana. Live in peace as best we could. But that war horde just wants to rule the whole mountain. Fucking idiots."

Akkyst huffed. He understood that.

"And we're goblins," Bylk said. He sort of shrugged, though something past his usual excitement or amusement flickered through his eyes. It looked like sadness. "Ain't like we can just leave the mountain and go live outside. So we'll keep on fighting them or die trying."

Well. Akkyst rumbled, low in his throat, and looked around at the gathered goblins; they were small and scurrying, more blue than green with their skin marred by black patterns, but they certainly seemed to care. They were healing the animals, fixing the caverns, generally taking care of each other.

He still wanted to go home. He wanted his mushrooms, his gentle caverns and the softness of algae, the comfort of food and water and safety.

But he wanted to know more about these goblins as well. He liked knowing things, he was quickly realizing, spurred by his ability to learn them at all. Knowledge was power and while he had his bulk, he wanted more. Would need more, if he was to continue surviving outside of the Growth.

And Akkyst was smart enough to guess that going with the goblins, though he didn't fully trust them yet, would probably get him more knowledge.

He glanced up, at the sheltered alcove hidden above the battlefield, and the two flashing eyes within. The bladehawk needed to escape, to fly in freer pastures, but Akkyst certainly didn't know a way out. Flying around in the endless caverns with the hope that you'd eventually stumble onto the outside was just begging to be eaten by all manner of nasty things. They needed to stay together until they knew it was safe to move on.

And for the jaguar. Akkyst turned, shuffling his bulk to the side and looking back; hidden under the shadow he'd laid on her, still twitching from the lightning coursing through her veins, she was still. But her eyes, impossibly vivid gold even against the dusty grey-green of her fur, locked onto him as he turned. Paralyzed but still very much aware.

He knelt, awkwardly grabbing her side with one massive paw and dragging her onto his back; she slumped there, her long tail with its feather-like growth on the tip just beginning to twitch, but stable. Akkyst stood and cast his gaze up, making the odd, almost chirping sound he'd picked up from their times walking patrols.

The bladehawk did trust him, but he did receive a rather cautious squawk back. He chirped again.

With a flutter, he spread his four wings and swooped down from on high, his metallic wings catching in the mana's glow; goblins blinked and watched him soar past with a strange mixture of curiosity and awe. Made sense, if Akkyst had to guess. It wasn't like he was a native.

The bladehawk landed on his hunched shoulders, curling his wings tightly to his sides. His black eyes swept over the assembled goblins with a cautious air, but he knew his wings could bear him away faster than their mana could work. The jaguar stayed sprawled over his back, but she'd start to wake up soon. Either the paralysis or by the goblins healing her.

Bylk looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "Ready to head out, eh? Off to whatever caverns you came from?"

Akkyst knew a few movements that translated his lack of speaking abilities. He shook his head.

Both of Bylk's eyebrows shot up. "Oh. Oh?"

He squared up his walk, careful to keep both creatures stable on his back, and swung his head towards the entrance the goblins had come from. Wherever they'd head back, he'd follow. It was time he figured out this mountain mess.

And maybe they would know the way back to the Growth, because he certainly didn't.

-

She was the smallest, but she was fierce, and she did not bow to those around her.

Her carapace was thin and flexible, still hardening after her birth, and she used that to weave around her opponents, her jagged, grasping claws snapping out at flies and beetles alike; most of the time she bounced off their monstrous carapaces but it was enough to turn them away, to direct their gaze elsewhere so she could slip away.

She learned about herself, in this fight. She was a creature built for stealth and sneaking, for tricking her prey closer and feasting on their corpse, but that did not mean she was weak. The other creatures expected her to be weak like her siblings, who stayed in the corners and struck out only when struck, and thus they paid no attention to her.

Enormous beetles with their round-shell backs, larvae dragging themselves out of water with their many-faceted eyes glinting in the dark, flies and moths flitting overhead with cautious, spinning circles. Lancers stayed around the edge of the pillar, fending off others instead of striking for home. Tanks rumbled through the midst of the battle, ignoring all attacks in their slow and endless charge. Biters swarmed overhead, searching for an opening the others would never provide.

But she was small. Still the pale grey of her youngling carapace, still small and unhardened, but quick. Clever. More focused on the underlings of the things surrounding her.

So she charged, her grasping claws snatching up foes and slicing off limb and head, scuttling through the cracks in combat and skulking against the side, letting her grey carapace hide her against the stone.

Until finally, she snuck underneath a final dragonfly's corpse and emerged on the top of the pillar.

Other bugs saw her then, of course. It was hard to pretend to be small and weak and young and foolhardy when she stood upon the prize of victory. But they could not stop her, and she saw that little pool of mana, of potential.

And she drank deeply of that mana, of the pure power, and felt light explode through her.

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