“You’re fucking with , aren’t you?”
“That’s so mouth for the daughter of a Highlord.”
Serena flicked her hand, waving Alia’s teasing away. “I swear when appropriate,” she said. “And that was appropriate. Now what do you an, ‘there are dragons in the Moons’?”
“Well…” Alia shifted awkwardly, holding up one finger. “One dragon in one Moon. I haven’t seen the other Moons in the Shimr yet, but that’s what I saw. You’ll have to remind when we go back to the East to pop in the Shimr and have a look because I—”
“Wait a mont.” Serena raised a hand. She could already feel a dragon-sized headache coming on. “Just wait a mont. What do you an, ‘there’s a dragon in the moon’?” Perhaps if Alia hadn’t just made the case for her demigod status, Serena would have reacted a little more… chaotically. For now, at least, she was holding on.
“Look,” Alia said. “When you look at them in the Shimr, the Moons are smooth. Perfect spheres. They don’t have any of the surface variation you see normally. None of the volcanic activity. You rember when I told you this?”
Serena nodded.
“Well, when I stepped into the Shimr, when I mistwalked for the first ti, it was different from just looking into it. Everything's much, much clearer when you’re actually in there. So, I looked at the moons and thought they looked strange, and I was right.” Alia leaned in. “They’re formations, like, giant”—Alia spread her arms wide—“formations. They’re spellwork. Spellwork that exists in the Shimr, but sohow manifests in the material world as the Moons you see every night. I’m not sure how it works; it’s beyond anything I’ve seen or done.”
Serena did her best at processing the impossible information she was being delivered, desperately trying to approach the revelation logically. The world already knew the Moons were supernatural. They didn’t follow the natural laws; the strict orbital chanics that governed the movent of the planet's singular natural moon didn’t apply to the Cascadian Moons. They sat above their respective territories, at distances of anywhere between one hundred thousand kilotres and four hundred thousand. They shed their volcanic material—aetherliths—and bombarded the planet with them, granting the Known World access to the precious moonstones within.
It was always known that magic was involved sohow, but for the Moons themselves to be a gigantic formation. How was that possible? A formation that big should imdiately collapse under its own arrogance.
Serena voiced her thoughts, and Alia quickly replied. “Right, right, that’s what I thought. But it is magic. I saw it. Which begs the question, who or what could make such a thing? The Empress? I doubt it. The Moons were there long before she was born, right? Hmm…” Alia placed a finger on her chin. “Speaking of, do we know how old they are?”
“Not as far as I know,” Serena responded. “I’ve never heard of any ancient history that fails to ntion them. They’ve even found cave paintings of them, and those are supposed to be five thousand years old.” While Alia mouthed ‘whoa’, Serena wondered just how old the Moons were. Could they be millions of years old? Surely that wasn’t possible. How could a formation exist for that long? Furthermore, wouldn’t a million years of moonrain render the Cascadian surface uninhabitable? Nothing more than an endless field of crystal. “We’re getting off track,” Serena said. “Tell about this dragon.”
“Okay, so, they are massive formations, but that needs to be powered by sothing, right? I was looking at the moon and saw the blurred image of sothing, but I couldn’t make it out at first. It was strange. It was like part of the formation was blocking my sight—hiding itself. So I pushed my aether further, and it beca clearer enough to make out. I swear on my heart”—Alia placed a hand on her chest—“it was a dragon. I’ve heard demons talk about it. Giant, fire-breathing lizards? It was wrapped up in its wings, with its head pointed down and tail wrapped around it, like it was trying to be an egg or sothing. It must have been… ten kilotres tall? It's hard to judge size from such a distance. It didn’t move, so I think it might be sleeping?”
“I… I…” Serena trailed off. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t utter the words, ‘I don’t believe you’. How could she? She was confident in Alia’s ridiculous capabilities and confident in her own ability to tell when Alia was jesting or not. If Alia said there was a dragon in the moon, then there was sothing in the moon. But, even so, she didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know how to respond,” she said finally. “Truly, I’m at a loss for words.”
“Oh?” Alia tilted her head and then grinned. “Quick,” she said, raising her hands like two sets of scales. “Tell which is more difficult to think about. Dragons in the Moons or you rubbing the Empress’ face in the dirt?”
Serena splashed Alia with an aura-enhanced movent that caused a small wall of water to thoroughly soak her girlfriend and a good portion of the hammam’s floor. “Idiot,” she said. Still, she couldn’t help but smile. Alia had a way of defusing tension that was much appreciated in the mont.
But with or without tension, what was this ridiculous revelation?
Serena took a mont to collect her thoughts.
“Dragons aren’t real,” Serena said after a mont, reaching out and fixing Alia’s wet hair. “Not the ones you’re talking about, anyway. The fire-breathing trait only beca popular in stories a few hundred years ago. That was when the legends began using them as an enemy for a hero to slay. Before that, dragons were a mythical race, representing the gods themselves. I think they were a concept the humans brought over and adapted into demon mythology. I believe you that there is sothing in the Moons, but it can’t be a dragon.” Serena shook her head. “It has to be sothing else. So kind of animal god.”
“I saw the blurred shadow of one back in Asamaywa, but I thought my eyes were playing tricks on ,” Alia explained. “I spoke to Lunaria about it, and she said so Southern cultures believe they are eggs of animal gods. But in the North, so people believe that they are holding dragons in prisons. So they must be on the right track, right? Perhaps the cultural beliefs are downstream from the truth that happened a really long ti ago? Like how a story gets changed over ti?”
“It’s possible,” Serena admitted, “but these are children’s tales. Not theories taken seriously by academics.” Serena rubbed her temples, feeling the increasingly strong urge to squeeze her horns. “The Bible teaches that they are where the Empress trapped the Titanlords from the Long Discordancy. Given that she authored it, I’m inclined to think you might have seen one. A Titanlord, that is.”
“Yeah,” Alia nodded. “Lunaria ntioned that as well.”
Was this… was this proof of the remaining Titanlords? The ruthless rulers of the captured territories by the forces of Anathema had almost beco legend, until the East discovered the archaeological evidence of the Empress’ battle—the Thousand Blades. Of all of the Titanlords in scripture, the corpse of only one had been discovered. That was the skull of Vythrax, found when they were digging the Centralis underground railway system. The body of Amlaq, the Southern Titanlord, was supposedly lost when the Empress invoked the Third-Word and created the Shattered Isles.
Serena reached up and gripped her horns.
That was better.
“You okay?” Alia asked.
“I’m fine, just…” Serena took a breath. “This isn’t the kind of information you can share. It’s possible that the entire reason the study of the Shimr is so guarded is to prevent people from discovering what you just did. Which ans we need to be careful with what we know. If it becos known, it could infla the darkblades.”
“The darkblades?” Alia tilted her head. “Why?”
“A key tenet of their heretical view is that Anathema is the rightful ruler of Cascadia, and the rest of the Known World beyond that. If they find out there is a Titanlord in the Moon, they’ll take it as a sign of their prophecy that the Malignant Darkness will return, and that there is to be a second battle for the Seven Hells and Six Heavens.” Serena shook her head. “Even if it isn’t a Titanlord in there, but sothing else—a dragon or animal god or anything—it wouldn’t matter. They would make the connection anyway. With the South already believing they are eggs, and the North viewing them as prisons, those beliefs would be adapted into their rhetoric, and darkblade numbers would explode. People are angry after the conflict, and this would give them the excuse to lash out.”
“I’ll… keep it secret,” Alia said. “I promise.”
Serena nodded, feeling her headache dim a bit. She let go of her horns. What was the truth? Were they the remaining Titanlords? Or were they sothing far older, created long before the Long Discordancy? Perhaps the Moons had existed without these things inside them, and then the Empress placed them there herself? But that would go against the Demon Church. The Bible was clear: the Empress killed the Titanlords. Was that wrong?
She felt the urge to grip her horns again.
“Ahh…” She let out a sigh. “My mind’s a ss.”
Alia humd. “Sorry, it was a lot to put on you, wasn’t it?”
“It’s fine.”
“Just tell one last thing,” Serena said. “Can Noburu see them?”
“No.” Alia shook her head. “He just sees the smooth spherical shape.”
“Good. That’s good.” Serena stretched. “Let’s just focus on relaxing,” she said. “Unless this is directly related to our shard-hunting duties, I’d rather not be distracted too much by a mystery of this… nature. One titanic revelation at a ti, please.”
Alia smiled. She reached out, picking up the bottle of scandalous bathing oil. “As an apology… want a massage?” She winked and bit her lower lip.
Just her biting her lower lip… Serena thought to herself, feeling heat rise into her cheeks. She ntally sighed. I’m a hopeless demon, aren’t I?
Serena made the effort to roll her eyes dramatically. “Do as you please, before I pull my horns off.” She rotated her body and loosened the pestemal for Alia. Folding her arms on the edge of the bath and resting her head upon them, she let her girlfriend get to work.
The remainder of their ti in the hammam was, thankfully, without any more world-shattering revelations. It was difficult to let her thoughts settle, and her body relax, but eventually Serena lted under Alia’s touch. They finished bathing, drying on the luxurious red velvet furniture. Despite Alia’s earlier complaints about being horny, they both ca to a silent agreent to avoid doing anything too shaless in the hammam. It would feel weird after such a serious discussion.
There would be another ti for that.
With a bit more encouragent, Serena tried the shisha. She had to admit, it was a pleasant experience. Unlike tobacco, the herbal version didn’t stress the lungs and was oddly relaxing. However, their use of it reminded her of why the East frowned upon it. After only a few minutes, the entire room slled of the minty fragrance. Father would never allow one to be used anywhere near House Halen’s estate.
They spent so ti with the henna tools, using the paste to dye their skin. Serena drew geotric patterns on the back of Alia’s hands while Alia did Empress knows what on her back. She claid she was tracing her stripes and drawing little peekas, so Serena returned the favour, drawing little wolfhounds reminiscent of House Halen’s insignia. Once she finished, she admired her work. Tracing Alia’s stripes, she asked, “They don’t hurt or feel strange, do they?”
“No, I feel no different, other than happy to have them.”
“Good.”
They had their fill of the prepared fruits and sweets before clearing up and exiting the hammam. The employee who had shown them around appeared, thanking them profusely for visiting. It was almost as if she were apologising for not being able to aid Serena herself. Serena simply thanked her and began walking the mountain path back to Ishaq.
By now, the evening sun was on its last waning breath, its golden light spreading across the distant lumina and highlighting the underbellies of the clouds. Where the light faded, the red moonlight of Pyrinn replaced it, abating the darkness. Serena looked at the Red Moon. She pushed her perception, but she could see no sign of a supposed trapped dragon or Titanlord.
As she looked, she couldn’t help but wonder.
Was it looking back?
If only there was soone—
Ah, that was right. There was soone she could talk to about this.
Hopefully, he was in a chatty mood tonight.
“Let’s return to the ship,” she said.
They made their way to the docks. Despite the late hour, Allston and his niece were still coordinating two dozen n around the scaffolding. The Vengeance was almost entirely white, but still needed another full coat to bring it up to standards.
“It feels so different,” Alia murmured. “I’m so used to seeing it black. The na Vengeance feels too ominous for a white ship. Feels like it should be called Judgent or sothing. It feels like a different ship.”
“The insides are the sa, that’s what matters,” Serena said quietly.
She exchanged a few words with Allston and Evelyn. The latter of whom was in charge of coordinating with Sergeant Major Lange, installing the new reflection plates around the ship’s lift and propulsion engine. With those installed, they should be resistant to the worst consequences of aetheric warfare. Evelyn explained that they had the additional effect of reducing the ship’s aether signature, granting them a little more stealth.
“Captain,” Lange said, stepping up and saluting. “We’ll be finished by the morning.”
“Sorry that you were dragged into this heat, Sergeant Major,” Serena responded. “I hope your n haven’t roasted too much in the engine room.”
Lange laughed. “Makes a nice change from winter in the East! Say…” the demon leaned in, speaking quietly. “I heard that the Ambler Table got so use in the Passage. How did it fare?”
“It’s earned its place,” Serena said. “The training your n provided, along with my talented crew, got us through in one piece. Good work, Sergeant Major.” At her words, the demon bead. Serena’s complints were perhaps the wrong move, for the man kept talking until she was eventually rescued by Evelyn, who directed a question about the reflection plates to him, permitting Serena to escape.
Why are all engineers so obsessed with machines? Serena couldn’t help but wonder.
She walked the periter of the ship with Alia, taking in the new paint job. Previously, the black armour plates were hot enough in direct sunlight to burn skin, and easily hot enough to cook—and burn—an egg. Now they were white, they were thirty thols cooler. The inside air was perhaps ten thols cooler; still hot, but manageable with a few vents and doors open.
“Welco back, Captain,” Anathor grumbled the mont they entered her quarters.
“Anathor,” Serena replied, “An interesting topic ca up I wanted to ask you about.”
“Hmm?”
Glancing at Alia, she faced the stuffed moose head. “Dragons,” she said. “What do you know about them?”
Anathor chuckled, a coarse, gravelly chuckle that tickled the air. “Dragons aren’t real, Captain. They were mythical as far back as I rember, and are mythical now. Hmm…” Anathor paused montarily. “During the crusades against the Malignant Darkness, we encountered all kinds of powerful foes. Great reptiles under the control of the enemy. So people called them dragons, but it was only the fear talking. Why, Captain? Have you seen one? I don’t think many remain…”
“No, I’m not talking about Wilderness monsters.” Serena gave Alia a nod and waited patiently for her to describe what she’d seen to Anathor. The Formless was quiet for a long ti, long enough that Serena prompted him further, asking, “Do you know what she’s talking about?”
“Hmm…” the Formless mumbled. “I do not, Captain.”
Alia stepped forward. “You can’t see them, Anathor? You practically live in the Shimr!”
“I have always understood their true form to be perfect orbs,” Anathor replied. “Perhaps a mistwalker, like our young Noburu, would see it if they go deeper. Maybe under the effects of the Lustrate forest…”
Serena frowned. “The Lustrate?” she asked. “There are deeper layers beyond the Shimr?”
“Hmm… Oh?” Anathor’s voice changed, a rare tinge of surprise. Then he mumbled to himself, “I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that…”
“Oooh,” Alia cooed. “Is that the source of the translucent vegetation I see everywhere?”
Anathor mumbled sothing before saying, “I should not counsel you on the Lustrate, Captain. She might not want it.”
Serena didn’t need to ask to know who he ant by ‘she’.
“Back to the Moons and their occupants,” she said, folding her arms. “Perhaps only shardbearers can see them in the Shimr? Anathor, did the Empress ever talk to you about them?”
“She never ntioned such a thing. Not that I rember.” Anathor paused, then said, “Now you ntion it, there was a ti she acted strangely towards the Moons…”
“How so?” Serena asked quickly, encouraging the Formless to ramble before he realised what he was doing.
“There was a point, after she earned her shard, where she would not go to the West. It was… she couldn’t enter the moonlight of the Green Moon for so reason. But I know she has done so since. She said… she said… oh, I can’t rember. I shouldn’t talk of this, Captain.”
It was becoming clear that Anathor wouldn’t be able to give them the information they needed. Serena decided to change the topic. There was sothing that had been on her mind since the demigod discussion. If the Empress’ shard defined her as a demigod, and Alia’s shard defined her likewise, then…
“Anathor,” Serena said. “Is Tarlane a shardbearer?”
“Hmm…? Oh, yes, Captain. Very astute. The human gods feared Elana’s growing power, and one of them was brave enough… or desperate enough… to splinter a part of themselves and bestow it upon Tarlane. It didn’t go to plan.” Anathor chuckled, this ti a aner, sinister chuckle. “He did not have the communion that Elana did. The shard bonded badly.”
Serena felt another piece of the puzzle connect. “Is that why he’s thronebound? Unable to move for so long?” Throughout her life, she’d heard snippets of Christdom’s propaganda about their divine pope. Forever ditating in the tallest spire of the Vatican so that he can finish his communion with Ascemurella, the Third-Word of the human branch of divinity. They said that one day, he would acquire the divinity of an archangel, enough to displace the Empress and secure Cascadia and its five Moons for humanity.
All this ti, was that just propaganda to explain away a poorly-bonded shard? If that was the reason, and Tarlane had lacked the communion to do it properly, then why had it worked for Alia? Where did Alia achieve sufficient communion with a shattered god to enable her to acquire her abilities so smoothly?
Well, not smoothly, Serena reminded herself. She suffered for a long ti.
“He cannot move,” Anathor said, “but his mind can travel. I do not know of his full powers, but he is limited compared to Elana. She told once that he figured out how to enhance his Paladins. Guide them. Impose upon them the fanaticism that made them so bloodthirsty on the battlefield. He is not… a good man. He hates Elana. Hates and respects her.”
“Will I gain more powers?” Alia asked.
“Hmm… I would think so,” Anathor said. “But you have only been here a short ti, Miss Thornheart. Tarlane has had centuries to understand his shard, and Elana nearly a thousand years. You must be careful and guide yourself with the love and compassion you show to so many others.”
“Mmm!” Alia threw out a thumbs up. “I will!”
Serena hesitated. Anathor was chatty today. Perhaps he was bored being in the dock for so long. Nevertheless, she would take advantage. “Anathor, it looks like the missing shard we’re looking for is sowhere in the Salaban Bowl. Do you have any idea of what kind of signs we should look for?” Serena glanced at Alia before looking at the moose. “I have to admit I don’t have complete faith in relying entirely on Alia’s shard’s natural attraction to other shards.” Serena didn’t say it, but she felt as if Intelligence’s plan for them was to just wander the Red Sands until Alia pinged sothing like an overly enthusiastic aetherscope.
“Hmm…?” Anathor was deep in thought for a dozen seconds before answering. “Shards crystalise, making them incapable of being bonded with. That is, other than their original owner.” The moose’s glassy eyes glinted, and he said, “The Fourth Deck, Captain. That is where they must be taken, so the ship can be whole again.”
“I know, Anathor. What about the signs?”
“Strange phenona. Areas where things are different from how they should be. Look for sothing in the desert that shouldn’t be there. It might be protected. Shards can encourage the surrounding flora and fauna to protect themselves.”
“We might have to fight?”
“Maybe, Captain. So shards… are more awake than others.”
“I’ve heard of a few desert mysteries,” Serena said, recounting the tales of the Red Sands that nes had shared on his rooftop. A healing oasis, a floating tower with a great ruby, a monstrous golem of a sphinx, and a greatwurm that supposedly rivalled Amlaq. “Do any of them sound like sothing a shard could do?”
“Hmm… I think so.”
“You think so?”
“I have not collected them, Captain. I have only protected the core, within this ship. That is my duty.”
“...I see.”
“I am sure you’ll succeed in your task, Captain. Tis are changing... Pieces are moving... Under your leadership, we will prevail.”
Serena only humd her response. She had confidence in herself, in Alia, and growing confidence in the squad. But who else was looking for this shard? There were rumours that Saladin, the Southern Overlord, was searching for an ancient power in the desert. It wasn’t just him; was the darkblade activity and the Blackhorn’s attack on the arcwhale related to his own search?
“Thank you, Anathor,” she said, deciding to put her head down for the night. Her mind was still reeling from all the revelations she’d heard, and she opted for a good night’s sleep over Alia’s healing. With a cuddle and her customary ‘Love you, Lia’, she settled into the two-man hammock.
She slowly drifted off to sleep, trying to occupy her mind with tomorrow’s plan. She had to et with nes and Korvus to petition the Ishaqian council to prioritise search and rescue for Captain Matthews and the missing crew. Still, no matter what, her thoughts kept coming back to the topic of the Moons and the gigantic creatures inside.
And with it, an ancient warning.
Nine old beasts from days gone by, sealed away where none ask why. Nine dark temples, cold and deep, where ancient monsters lie asleep.
Nine strong keys to bind the door, scattered wide forevermore. Lose them not, nor break the chain—or beasts shall walk the world again.
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