Adamant Blood

Eliot stood in a side room, away from the party. His mother, Sophia, also known as Circuitbender, stood with him. There was a small circular table separating them from the other people in the room, and no windows. The door was shut and sound was blocked.

Isoko and Wandering Sage stood on the other side of the table.

Circuitbender opened up with, “I put forth an agreement of non-interference. We will not interfere with your plans for Mark, and you will not interfere with ours.”

Wandering Sage said, “I agree to this agreement in the largest of senses, but the minutiae will prove this agreement as untenable. Instead, I put forth that we adopt a position of allies with each other, with the goal of propping Mark up as far as he can go, alongside Citadel Freyala.”

Circuitbender eyed Wandering Sage. “My end goal is to have him as an Inquisitor of Freyala. What is your goal?”

“Supervillain. I want him to be allowed to politically challenge his ‘brother’ within the realm of fiction, and one day be able to kill dragons with ease.”

Circuitbender did not scoff, but Eliot could tell she wanted to. Probably just to make a point, though. Everyone going into this meeting here already knew what the other party wanted, though Eliot was a bit worried about that ‘kill dragons with ease’ part. Isoko looked a little worried, too.

One did not simply start out a career planning on becoming a dragon hunter…

But, Eliot supposed, maybe some people did.

Mark certainly qualified.

Assisting someone in making dragons was just as bad as dealing with demons, and every single report that COFR had been able to create, and which Eliot had been able to sneak a glance at, painted Mark as an unwitting accomplice to that great evil. So he was cleared of wrongdoing, which was good.

And Addashield’s Dragon was rather cooperative. He was clearly on his way to becoming a nation unto himself, just like Addashield had been.

Eliot had only ever seen the archmage at one of grandmother’s parties, maybe twice, and it chilled him to know that a Hero of Humanity had been secretly making hidden dragons and killing his apprentices for over 300 years. Gods above, this was the biggest political thing to happen on Earth since Glorious Man came of age and started actively hunting kaiju every other weekend, when he was still 20.

Would Mark do that, too?

It was possible, though he’d have to be a lot smarter about it than Glorious Man’s ‘Big Punch!’ attacks, and especially with that airy-black-vein thing he had going on. Honestly, ‘supervillain’ would look good on him.

Eliot was unsure that Freyala wanted anything to do with that, though.

Circuitbender said, “I haven’t spoken to anyone about your plot to turn Mark villain, but I will speak on it now, here in private. Guiding Mark to become a villain is dangerous, even for you. Mark’s outbursts are getting less extreme. With time, he might even leave all of that behind. It would be wiser not to antagonize that particular dragon, at this particular time, for to try and politically maneuver a dragon in any way is to simply infuriate them.”

Wandering Sage simply, deeply, said, “Your plan for Inquisitor coincides nicely with my plan to make him a villain, and the simple fact is that no one makes anyone at our power level do anything. Mark will be at this level soon enough; within 5 years. The dragon is already there. Do you think we don’t have plans to kill Glorious Man if he were to ever get mind-controlled by a bad actor? Do you think we don’t have plans for all the great powers of the world, if they turn actually evil, or if they go outside of the allowed evils of the Villain Program? Of course we have plans. Plans within plans, all based on the natures of people, as they are. All I am asking of you is to leave the door open for Mark to become a villain, and if he walks through it, then he walks through it, and we will gain another plan against the dragon. Or at least a distraction.” Wandering Sage said, “It is quite possible that naming Mark as his brother is just one such distraction, and he plans on murdering Mark the very second he steps out of Freyala’s oversight.”

Eliot felt his heart pulse hard, sweat gathering under his arms. Because, yeah, he had considered that possibility, too. He wondered if Mark had considered that possibility, in his plan to go on training missions outside of the city. Eliot looked to Isoko.

Isoko had no such startled reaction. She already knew about that possibility. She was ready for it.

Eliot didn’t understand that; how could anyone their age be ready to face a dragon?

Wandering Sage said, “Isoko will join Mark for a training mission or two, but beyond that she will split off and go on her own. I hope that you will make your Eliot do the same.”

Circuitbender stood tall. “I haven’t discussed that with him yet, but your words are taken under advisement.” And then Circuitbender vanished; the tilt of Mom’s hips, her shoulders, and the countenance of her face. All of it was the same. All of it changed. Sophia Cybersong said, “Thanks for coming to the party, Arei.”

Wandering Sage —for she was never ‘off’— was a bit more pleasant than a moment ago, as she said, “It’s been a good party. You really outdid yourself this time.”

Sophia went to the door and opened it, saying, “You should come around more often; this is a pretty normal party for the Cybersong house.”

Wandering Sage said something about how life was at Crystal Tower this time of year, and how Glorious Man’s last party had been rather amazing. Both of them seemed to be saying perfectly normal things, but you could cut the anger in the air with a knife.

The two plotters went out of the room, leaving Eliot and Isoko alone.

Eliot asked, “Mark is probably going to stay on Daihoon once he gets there, yeah?”

Isoko said, “I certainly am, so maybe he and I will stick around together for a little while.

Eliot grinned. “Don’t like this particular arena?”

“Not when I’m effectively an F rank.”

Eliot lost his grin. He nodded. The Tyranny of Talents was ever a dividing line upon the Two Worlds that only demons, gods, and fools could ever cross. Everyone else just landed where they landed.

Eliot said, “I could see Mark as a villain.”

Isoko scoffed. “I can see it, too!” She dropped her voice, “ ‘Why are you hitting me! I’m a human, just like you!’.”

Eliot waved her off. “That’s a normal problem for a fundie. He’ll get over it, and once he does he just needs a writer. All good villains have good writers.”

Isoko raised an eyebrow and looked at Eliot. “You have dreams of fame, don’t you.”

“The biggest dreams.”

Isoko frowned a little. “Don’t use him like that. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Eliot said, “And you’re not trying to do the same thing?”

“Nope, because I know we’ll never be in the same bracket. If I stick around him I’ll be the one used, which is fine, but I’m not sure I want to be that close to the dragon.”

Eliot frowned a little. He just nodded.

- - - -

In the middle of Rome, beside a house that used to be whole and was now rubble, the rubble shifted. One rock fell inward, revealing a depression that was invisible until then. Another stone collapsed into a hole in the rubble, rapidly followed by a third. A cavity opened. The air inside the hole was black, but also filled with rainbows, like gossamer veils breaking, separating, exposing a cave beyond.

A goblin on the other side screamed as it ran away from a monster, directly through the cave, into the open air.

Ten sharp talons, like ripping anger, clawed at the opening in the Veil between worlds, but the gossamer thread was already sealing. Talons scrambled to hold open the hole in the world. Roars of frustration echoed out from between the talons; a roar of pain, anguish, and frustration. The big monster pulled back, but not fast enough. The break in reality sealed shut, once again.

Meters of white talons now rested upon the ground, severed from their owner. Not much blood.

The goblin sat, dumbfounded. He saw that just happen, and he has no idea what to make of it all. Where he had been, had been death. But here, the setting sun anointed the sky and the land all around with peace. The broken claws lay here and there.

Disbelief rocked him. The goblin looked at its hands, and then at the open sky, crisscrossed with tiny white lines.

The goblin shouted for joy. It was a whooping sound. A war sound. A call to eat and be merry.

Above the goblin, a bit of an overhanging wall shifted in the late light of the day. Eight legs stretched, eight eyes looked down at the prey below. The mimic spider rapidly judged the green, moving flesh, to be a good size target, so it dropped from the overhang and landed directly on—

The goblin snatched the spider out of the air and then ripped into it, plucking off the fangs and eating it face first. It was delicious. He burped halfway through the meal. His wounds sealed up, like they were never there in the first place, and the goblin tossed the half-eaten corpse to the side.

The corpse bubbled with transformation, and soon, a broken fetus of a goblin crawled out of the flesh.

The big goblin stared down at the broken, useless thing, and then he stomped on it

He needed to find bigger fleshbags to transform into brothers; not baby spider fleshbags. Though they were quite tasty. With uncanny knowing, the goblin looked around at squiggles on the sides of buildings. He didn’t know what he was seeing right away, but he knew language when he saw it. He’d learn, eventually.

At least he was in human territory. That much was easily visible, and human territory was either quick-quick death, or an overwhelming victory.

With imprecision, the goblin said, “Aye ami don Earth how. Haye thepeak anguisht don Earth.”

‘Anguisht’? No. They call the language something else here.

The goblin was close, though.

He would find out what the words said from his brothers as soon as he could make some family out of some smart prey. There was bound to be good prey in this peaceful place, somewhere. Humans, no doubt. Humans always made the smartest goblin-fodder. Maybe some goblin could be born that was worth a damn—

Another spider dropped on him.

Another small meal, eaten and gone.

And then the spiders started to coordinate.

This was a much easier problem than the big talon monster. The goblin started chomping on spiders, rolling out of the way of cast webbing, and then he chowed on more spiders. Just one bite. Not too deep. Just enough to matter.

Within minutes the weakest spiders were dead. Bodies bloated and then popped, and brothers rolled out into the world. They were a bit fuzzy and they had large eyes, but they could scout and hide well.

Couldn’t speak worth a damn, not yet, but that was fine.