But he almost physically revolted against the thought. Guilt assailed him at the same time. Surely, Vesslan would be a good ruler! An uninspiring one, but one very dedicated to all the… details of ruling. He’d have that cabbage issue worked out in triplicate, Aquilan was certain.
“Oh, dear, it looks like the Leviathan have finally realized that there’s someone on their doorstep,” Vex said, gesturing with one hand behind Aquilan.
He spun around to look where Vex indicated. His mouth went very dry as he saw movement between the webs. The strands were all quivering as Leviathan made their way towards him and Vex. No matter where he looked there was movement.
“Please don’t kill my lichen, Ailduin,” Vex said.
Aquilan turned back. “What do you suggest… Vex? King Vex?”
No one answered him. For the Night King was gone.
Sunshard
Darcassan felt a trickle of sweat run down the line of his spine. All that separated him from two Australs was a four-foot high wall. If the damned monsters happened to look over the wall or around the edge of it–which ended just a foot from his head–they’d see him.
And it would all be over.
His sister crowded against his back. Though she said nothing out loud–the Australs had very good hearing–he knew she was likely praying. She did that whenever they went into battle. Darcassan never prayed, because the gods never answered. He was certain they existed. But they did not care. Not even about the Aravae. Not anymore.
After all, their mother had been the most devoted of worshipers and she had been cut down on a hunt for a sacred feather to lay at the altar of Merketh. After she had died, things had gone… badly. Her loss had been like the Sun dimming. Their father had changed. Become darker too. And like a rock rolling downhill, so many things had fallen after that.
No, he would never pray again. Like Vex he would damn the gods and rely only upon himself.
He glanced over at the other half wall where Helgrom, Snaglak and Glom hunkered. The dwarf’s amber eyes met his for a moment. They glowed in the half-light of the barrel-vaulted hallway. Like jewels. He’d heard that the Kindreth’s eyes glowed, but not the Draesiwen’s. But here was proof they did. At least in the Under Dark. It was eerie, but beautiful.
The door to the armory was just across this T-intersection of hallway. Just fifty feet down away. He could see it if he poked his head above the wall, but again the Australs would see him. Part of him just wanted to send three concentrated missiles of magic towards the Australs. Right at their heads. They’d die quick enough then, but Helgrom had said “no” to killing any Australs, even ones in their way, when they’d first entered the waterway that led them into Xrdatha.
“You kill one of them and the others will know and come for us. There is a hive-mind connection among them. It also means if even one of them sees us the rest of the group will know,” Helgrom had explained, keeping his voice incredibly low even though the murky water rushed by their feet.
“So we need to get in and out with the weapons without being seen?” Elasha had asked.
A nod and grunt.
“Australs fly,” Snaglak nodded sagely.
“Ah, yes, we do see that,” Darcassan frowned at the orc. “Not that it matters–”
“He means that few of them will be inside the palace,” Helgrom glared at him. “Especially in the lower levels where the armory is. That is why it matters.”
“Oh… well, why didn’t he just say that then?” Darcassan scowled and flushed.
For a moment, he thought he heard his mother’s voice in his head, chiding him, “Keep making that expression, Darcassan, and your face might just stay that way. Let them see your kindness. Your intelligence. Not your impatience.”
“Did say,” Snaglak answered haughtily and poked the naki in its butt, which had the beast wheeling around with a hiss.
Darcassan rather felt like that naki with that answer.
“But what if there are some inside?” Elasha asked anxiously.
His sister was always anxious these days. Ever since their mother… It was like she could never relax. She constantly found something to worry about and it was often him. The less their father cared, the more his sister did. But it was not comforting. It was annoying, frustrating, and a reminder of what they’d lost.
Helgrom stroked his beard. “Rhalyf was able to make me invisible once–”
“Oh, that’s easy!” Darcassan laughed. “I can do that–”
“So invisible that I have no scent and make no sound?” Helgrom lifted an eyebrow.
Elasha sighed.
