The Dungeon Without a System

Chapter 87

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The Open Sky, The Eleventh Floor, the Dungeon

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Wave had never felt so free.

Not long ago, he'd thought surfing on the ocean would be the pinnacle of this feeling, then when the vultures carried him through the canyon. Now he knew better. Surfing was fun, but flying under your own power? He'd experienced the feeling of wind running under his wings as they beat against the air. He'd ridden thermals that had him soaring half-a-dozen miles over the sea! He'd dived from that height, then pulled up seconds before impacting the water!

After experiencing all that, he knew that flight was the pinnacle of freedom.

He spent two days exploring the Eleventh, particularly the two new islands The Creator had pulled from the ocean. He'd made a game of how quickly he could weave through the tunnels of Zepher Peak! At one point, the Air Spirit joined him in the sky on her way to her new home. She was the one who showed him the power of thermals and how to use his new Air affinity.

All good things had to end at some point, though. The Air Spirit passed on that a few of his friends were at the beach, waiting for his return.

He felt a little embarrassed. He'd been so caught up in his newfound power of flight that almost all else had fled his mind. So, he turned and flew back to Dawn Beach. Wave roared as he flew towards the tiny figures he saw standing on the beach. He flapped his wings and rolled slightly, turning into a wide circle as he descended. One final flap as he straightened slowed him down. But it wasn't enough. Wave slammed into the sand and rolled, kicking up a cloud of sand in the process.

He groaned and coughed, more in embarrassment than pain. Although, he was lying on a wing, and it was pretty uncomfortable. "Help?" he asked the group of monsters nearby, half of them standing and wary. There was a beat of silence. Wave heard Aston start to snicker, prompting them all to laugh. He could only grumble and try to right himself, a task made far more manageable when his friends came to help. Once righted, he lifted his head to show off his full height and stared down at the group.

Taura looked up at him with awe. "Wow. So this is what a Drake is?" Wave tilted his head at her, lowered it so he could look her in the eyes, then shook it.

"No, The Creator called this form a 'Wyvern.' I'm not sure what a 'Drake' is," he responded. He blinked. "But I can ask!"

And he did. He reached for The Creator's presence. Moments later, he had his answer. The Creator was busy and couldn't talk directly, but nonetheless sent him a mental image comparing Wyverns and Drakes.

"A Drake is a flightless Wyvern, but no less dangerous for the lack of flight," Wave explained, interpreting the image. "They're physically larger, stronger, and tougher because they don't need to be light enough to fly."

"Huh," Taura muttered, staring off at the beacon of light in the distance.

"But enough about that. What's up with you guys?" Wave prompted.

"We were worried about you, dumbass," Aston said, lightly punching Wave's shoulder. He barely felt it. "Last we saw, you were surfing off towards the Core, then a few hours later, The Creator's back and new islands are rising from the ocean. We heard a roar, then a distant flying shape." Taura and Towers audibly agreed, and Wave could only sigh.

"I don't have an excuse. I was distracted by flying. It's like nothing else." Wave shook his head, focusing again. "I should've flown back here as soon as I could. I'm sorry."

Towers shook his head, drawing Wave's attention. "No need to apologize, my friend. We understand you were enraptured with your new form after The Creator ascended you. If possible, could you tell us what happened on the island?"

"Sure," Wave agreed. "I don't remember much, but I'll tell you what I do."

For the next few hours, Wave spent time with his friends. At some point, Aston suggested testing out Wave's new body. They established his full range of motion and everything he could do. In a moment of inspiration, Wave produced a jet of icy-blue flame from his maw. Rather than being burned, everything his flame touched was covered in a layer of frost or frozen solid!

When dusk approached, Taura and Aston had to return to their village. They made Wave promise he'd keep in touch, especially since the Air Court had moved their Court to the Eleventh. When they were gone, Towers started a fire, and they settled down beside it. His King had asked Towers to record their quest, and he'd run into a roadblock. He had nothing to write on or write with and wasn't sure what language to write it in.

Thankfully, The Creator had concluded his business by then and was happy to help them sort that out. He gave Towers the knowledge of the runic language he used, though He didn't have a name for it. Instead, The Creator encouraged them to think of one! He claimed that 'paper' was beyond their ability to make at the moment, but they could easily make clay tablets. The following day Tower rushed back to the Ninth to gather the necessary ingredients, and Wave was once again left alone.

He was in the air again the next minute, luxuriating in the feeling. But he found he was already getting a bit used to it. He looked around and, by chance, focused on the clifftop Taura had taken him to before the quest.

Hmm. Wave supposed he could make himself some kind-of nest or house there.

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The Dungeon, Medea Island

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Neo-No. Layla. I should call her by her name. Layla, Felin, Isid, and Gerrard were in the meeting room. A much more composed and calm kobold had greeted them at the moving wall, and I would be conducting the meeting this time. After receiving permission, I possessed her. The guilders noticed as her body language changed, their gazes sharpening and focused.

"Welcome back... Actually, I don't know what to call you," Layla said, tilting her head slightly. " 'The Dungeon' is so impersonal. 'The Creator' is more of a title, and you certainly aren't my Creator." I could only chuckle in response.

"I've had many names, but you wouldn't know of them and don't have the context to understand them, anyhow," I answered, half-truths spilling from my mouth like water. Ah, this was always fun. "My Children haven't found the need to give me one beyond that little title. Call me what you will."

"Medea, then. You are as much the island as any other part of it."

I had the kobold shrug. "Fine. Now, the payment?" Layla nodded to her aunt and uncle, and the two brought out a pair of hawks. They looked much the same as Pyry before I'd changed her.

"Two black-crested hawks. A breeding pair, who have laid a clutch together already." Layla explained as her relatives placed the caged birds on the stone table. After a quick inspection of the birds, I nodded at the humans and turned back to them.

"A fine payment. Well, ask your questions." I prompted. There was a moment of silence. Layla shifted in her seat anxiously, and I narrowed my eyes at her. Something was different this time.

"Before we get to the questions, I apologize for taking advantage of your... absence... during my last visit," Layla explained. "You understand that we have to take every opportunity we can, but it didn't sit right with me."

"This is... unexpected," I answered, squinting at the group. "Do you think I would punish this Child for failing me by telling too much? I am not a cruel Creator. She made mistakes, but I have shown her the error of her ways, and she will not make them again. Nothing more needs to be done." I could feel the relief from the kobold and sent her reassurance in return. The guilders also seemed relieved. Meanwhile, I was reasonably pleased by this development. Their empathy for my monsters grew, maybe even faster than I'd expected.

"My questions today are all related and require a bit of explanation," Layla began. I quickly dealt with a request from Wave, then refocused as Layla started her spiel. "Medea Island is facing an invasion from the Bahrain Empire. They are invading in great numbers, and while the Guild is supposedly neutral, I don't believe many of my guilders will agree to stay out of the fight. This island has become a new home for many, and I doubt they want to lose it. Them joining the fight could cause many problems, as you may see, but I won't go into them now. My first question; do you have any monsters positioned to help defend the island?" I looked her right in her blindfold, rested my scaly elbows on the table, and pressed my claws together.

"I do," I answered. While Layla's stoicism to that response was admirable, the three behind her tensed.

"Are you willing to help defend the people of this island from the impending invasion using your monsters?" she asked. Ah, I see where she's going. If I defend the island, there'd be no need for the guilders to get involved, handily preventing any political ramifications.

"For a price," I replied. The already tense guilders tensed further, but no one reached for weapons.

"What is your price?" Layla finished. I took my time, pondering my answer. I could use this to further a few of my plans. It'd be sooner than planned, but the sooner, the better, in this case. It was also quite entertaining to see how the longer I let the silence drag on, The more tense the humans became.

"My price is a voice on my island's surface and in its running. Five of my Children will remain above ground. One will be my voice amongst you settlers on my island, and the others will be their guards," I stated. My tone brooked no argument.

The guilders seemed surprised, Layla especially, if how quickly she was blinking behind that blindfold was any indication.

"Not keeping guilders from delving?" She asked, unable to keep the shock from her voice. I shook my head.

"I know your guilders would never accept that. Besides, I doubt they could get to my core, even if they tried. I may only have eleven floors, but even Hallmark only made it to the Ninth before he was stopped. That's a freebie. But yes, that is my price for aiding in the defense of this island against the invading Bahrain. Do we have an accord?" I reached across the table with my claw open.

There was a beat when I thought she wouldn't accept.

But then she shook my hand, and the deal was struck.

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Bahrain Flagship Fist of The Emperor, Bahrain Invasion Fleet, The Kalenic Sea

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Grand Admiral Almaanz Shakih frowned as he read the note, then threw it aside with a disgusted bark. "Damn those Phenoc! They couldn't make this easy for us." He exclaimed as he began pacing across his cabin. The floor tilted back and forth, but only slightly, and he once again appreciated that larger ships barely swayed.

When he couldn't stand pacing in his room anymore, he left. He emerged from the spacious officers' quarters onto the main deck quickly. He climbed the stairs to the helm and found his two closest supporters debating the minutiae of the invasion plans over a map of the Phenoc Coast.

"After establishing our presence on the island, we should blockade the major ports on the coast; here, here, and here. Smaller groups can raid smaller settlements, forcing them to flee to larger cities. The larger draw on their food reserves will surely cause them to capitulate more quickly," Admiral Lizaak Gruja argued. Neither of the arguing men noticed Almaanz's approach.

"I disagree," Admiral Pohja Litaj countered. "Spreading out our forces will leave them vulnerable to the Phenoc's Eastern fleet. We cannot guarantee we will catch them in their ports, and it's far more likely that we'll be chasing their ships through occupied waters long enough for the Western fleet to arrive."

"It doesn't matter," Almaanz said as he reached the table. "The dogs know of the invasion. And not just that one is coming. Our spies have discovered their ports have emptied of all their navy's ships, and sails were seen all up and down the coast, sailing for Medea." The arguing Admirals cursed this new information, pulling pegs and crumpling paper as they scrapped their plans entirely.

"They can't scramble enough ships to stop us at Medea," Lizaak began, placing new pegs representing the Pheonc's forces. "We know where their ships patrol. They may have a dozen warships prepared, but we have hundreds! The real problem is after our capture of Medea. Them knowing this early means there is no chance of catching the ships at port!" The man seemed angry his 'brilliant' plan had been so thoroughly foiled.

"We need to develop an entirely new plan," Almaanz agreed. "YOU! Send a message to the other Admirals. They are summoned in light of new information." A sailor gave a crisp salute and raced off. Almaanz turned to the fussing Admirals as they dithered over likely positions of the Phenoc fleets.

"Peace, my friends," He started, getting their attention. "I have the bones of a plan. The same message that informed me of this included another tidbit. We have gained the loyalty of a traitor amongst the Phenoc, one well-placed enough to throw them into true chaos. Here's the plan..."

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