Post by Merla, the Daughter of Summer on Feb 1, 2023 21:14:05 GMT
It was decidedly chillier in the Dawnlands than the Court of Harmony. The temperature wasn’t helped by how cloudy it was either, blocking the far away sun. Merla glances up to the sky, the ring of vibrant gold glowing a little brighter as it catches the dull light.
Every time she has come back to the Dawnlands, with the exception of last year’s fashion show, the young archfey has always appeared as the people here remember her: tall for a halfling at 3’9”, sun-kissed skin with a soft golden shimmer, blonde and pink hair loose and free, soft waves tempered to be not as vibrant and bright. Part of it was to be approachable. Having been queen of her own court for only a short time, Merla was still learning the necessary subtleties needed to be listened to and taken seriously like her Mother. The memories of the fey are short in some aspects, but longer in others. Mortals are different though. They can easily forget the deeds done in the past if the change presented is too jarring, too sudden.
“Any idea what the Archmage Archselon might need from us?” Astra asks as they land just outside the three story house on the edge of the Plaza.
“Something serious, for sure. But beyond that I-”
Out of nowhere Merla feels something soft and fluffy brush past her leg before feeling a jot of surprise across her and Astra’s bond.
“Asrta are you- Oh!”
And then the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity was raising a hand to her mouth in an attempt to hold back the bright peals of musical laughter escaping past her lips.
A bader, snoot half buried into Astra’s starlight mane, was draped across the winged unicorn’s back, kicking the woven flower bridle out of the way to get closer to glitter and shine. Astra tries to look over her shoulder to the little creature, which only causes the little beast to roll around more in excitement.
“Aww isn’t that sweet, Astra. Stripes missed you!”
There’s a feeling of delight mixed with barely contained pride. “I think the little creature is having an episode…”
“Uhh, should I…”
The voice comes from behind Merla and she turns.
“Oh Wren! Hello,” Merla says, smiling up at the young aasimar. “Don’t worry about them. Astra loves the attention. Come, let’s go inside.”
The two approach Aurelia’s front door but before either can knock, it opens.
“Good morning. Hello. Yes, please do come in. There’s tea and biscuits laid out. We will get into it very soon. Just want to wait for the others to get here before we do.”
The greeting seems normal enough. Wren even appears to take it at face value, stepping inside and already making note of the entrances and exits in the room, leaving Stripes to spend time with Astra. But Merla has seen Aurelia in various situations of stress and worry over the years and has only become more intuitive. She senses the slightest note of fear in the archmage’s Song.
Merla rests a reassuring hand on Aurelia’s arm, letting her own Song and a tiny bit of Summer’s Warmth lend credibility to her words. “We will sort it out. We always do. It will be alright, Aurelia.”
Aurelia takes a breath, holding it in for a moment as her eyes meet Merla’s. “Yes. Of course. Now that you, and the others are coming, we will finally deal with this. Thank you.”
“Since the founding of Daring, I have studied the portal, first as a scholar and later as an expert in the field of planar portals and teleportation, trying to understand what was this rift that we all came through. I came to understand, in time, that it was a very special twist in the fabric of the Weave.”
They all sit in Aurelia’s house — Merla, Wren, Mace, Veridian and Taffeta. In all honesty, it surprised Merla to see Taff there. She knew the halfling didn’t particularly like the councilwoman, and her expression said as much in very subtle ways.
“Unfortunately, during the orcish invasion I took the decision to destroy a large portion of that magic. Before then we could travel to and from Faerûn without any magic at all, and could teleport to other places with very little additional magical power needed.”
It had been some time since Merla had seen Mace as well. When he arrived, she noted he seemed to walk with a slightly springer step than he did previously. The wine he brought was tactfully put to the side as this was a different kind of business call than the entrepreneur was possibly hoping for.
“After its collapse, the twist was still present… and we’ve been able to use it since then to make teleportation and planar travel a little easier. In simple terms, it meant a lower tier of magic was needed, which made it more productive.”
As for the other archmage in the room, he had glanced over at the table piled with papers as Wren had but now studied Aurelia intrigued. Now Veridian has one hand half covering his lips as he follows Aurelia’s slow pace and gesticulation, thoughts clearly racing.
“A few years ago I noticed something slightly off in the equations. A piece of energy I couldn’t account for. But things were fine, we kept using it, and I have kept studying it… In the last few months I’ve made a few breakthroughs and now I understand the basics of what is happening. That’s why I called you.”
Merla cocks their head to the side just a little, expectantly.
“There’s an energy imbalance. Every time the energy is used and we teleport someone somewhere, a little bit of it disappears. This was difficult to spot but I’m now convinced every time the portal is used a piece of… something is lost. I’m convinced that it is lost from the people travelling, not from the spell being cast.”
They all shift uncomfortably in their seats. No one says it but they are all thinking it: How much has been taken away from me over the years? How many times have I travelled through that teleportation circle? What have I lost and I didn’t even know it?
“I have located where the energy, the ‘ness’, is going. The coordinates lead to a demiplane attached or entangled with the portal. I don’t know the details, but something has been draining energy, substance from people using the portal for at least three years.” Aurelia finally stops moving and her hands come to rest by her side. “I don’t know what is in there but I, under no circumstances, want to go in there on my own.”
There was a weighted beat of silence. Then, “Sounds eerily familiar. Like the Daring Heights tax authority,” Mace says.
“You pay taxes?” Wren says.
“There are fees, levies,” the tiefling explains. He arches a shadowed eyebrow at Wren. “Surely you pay taxes whenever you pick up an apple at the market?”
“Is that what you live in Port Ffirst?” Veridian asks pointedly of Mace.
Wren internjects, “Nothing wrong with Port Ffirst.”
Mace nods. “Port First has many attractions. But,” he returns his attention to Aurelia, “back to the matter at hand. Do you have an inkling of what the thing being lost is? Does anyone miss whatever they’ve lost? Or is this a victimless crime?”
Aurelia explains that people complain, yes, but not about the kind of thing she is thinking of. “I suspect it’s small. A fragment, something ethereal. Some time. A memory. I don’t know. But I want to find out and stop it. Your Majesty?”
Merla holds up a hand. “Call me Merla, please. We are not at Court.” She lowers it and leans forward slightly. “If we are to solve this, what does that look like? It is obviously going to affect how teleportation is done from here, but what about all that magic? What are we going to do when we find it? Maybe the person or thing doesn’t realise it is doing it. Maybe it is hurt. Maybe there is something nefarious. What is our goal, Aurelia?”
“My goal is to rectify the situation as much as we can once we understand it. If we can get back what’s lost, that’s great, but we won’t be able to trace everyone who’s ever been through. But if there are reparations that can be feasibly made, that’s something to consider. It’s kept me up a little bit.” She adds the last part almost like an afterthought.
It certainly follows what I had seen in her earlier when I arrived.
“Would there be a concern that the amount of energy that’s been collected, which is probably considerable, may be released?” Veridian asks. “What if it comes back through the portal? Is there a concern about collateral damage to Daring Heights?”
“I suggest you and I keep a weather eye on that,” Aurelia says with a pointed look to Veridian. “If there’s energy to contain or redirect, we will. There are ways.”
They briefly discuss the different ways energy could be redirected and where. Veridian boldly suggests sending into the Nine Hells, which Merla instantly tenses at. Aurelia seems to share her extreme hesitation and even says as such, but the mage seems to have another demiplane that could work, Merla offering the option of the Plane of the Seven. Then Mace comes in with the idea that the energy could be bottled up to distribute later, to which Wren adds would have to be for free. Mace doesn’t exactly scowl but it’s clear he would rather not give away a resource of such value for free.
“Well,” the tiefling starts, sitting back in his chair, “as much as I would like to help Daring Heights, even though no such help was forthcoming when Port Ffirst was scorched by dragons, but I shall let that lie-”
Nearly everyone gives Mace a pointed look.
“How do we get there?”
“I have the means,” Aurelia says, confident. Then she turns to the actual halfling in the room, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time. “Taffeta, you’ve been quiet.”
Merla picks up her bergamot flavoured tea and takes a tiny sip, waiting with anticipation. She still didn’t know to what extent Taffeta was here to help or to judge the archmage.
“It’s strange,” Taffeta starts, brows furrowed slightly. “It almost sounds like the opposite of what happened to me when you collapsed the portal back then. It was like a piece of it got stuck inside me somehow.”
Merla’s eyebrows raise a fraction. “So that’s how she got those abilities.”
“You never knew that?” Astra asks her.
“Nothing specific, but these lands are riddled with portals and rifts to different Planes. I should have known it would have been connected to something more significant for Taffeta…”
“…if it was a danger to the balance of the planes then Zmee or the dryads would’ve said something, but it could still be a problem and the best way to find out what it is is to go there.”
Everything is wet. There is moisture in the air that causes a purple haze that casts them all in dim lavender light. Astra lifts a hoof out of the one inch of liquid they are all standing in and gives it a disgusted shake. Merla’s attention is up though. The haze blends into a purple void that has enormous islands of rock floating at every level imaginable. She suppresses a shiver. This reminds her a little too much of the shared mind space of the Black Heart Cabal.
“Not a lot of interior design taste,” Aurelia states. “Hmm, interesting. I think we’re probably heading that way.” She points.
The archmage’s voice echoes out, carrying farther and farther away. As it begins to come back to them it has transformed into a hideous, horrendous, gurgling laughter.
“You finally found me, Aurelia. It has been… so long since I’ve seen you. And you’ve brought… friends. Veridian, hmm,” the voice almost seems to taste his name, “all grown up. Merla, now, oh so different! Wren and, mmm, let’s say Menace shall we? And… Taffeta! Welcome, you are most welcome here you puny little thing.”
“I don’t like how it speaks,” Astra says, stamping her hoof down on the wet ground, her earlier disgust forgotten.
“I don’t think the rest of us do either, Astra.”
“Thank you! The warmth of your welcome in your humble abode is all very toasty,” Mace says, stepping forward addressing the voice, though he doesn’t know where to look. “You seem to have us at a slight disadvantage. Who do we have the absolute profound pleasure of dealing with today?”
“Names are for things like you… Things that are definable… But if you want to call me something, Menace, you could name me… Taxation.”
Mace leans over and whispers to Taffeta, “I already dislike this guy, don’t you?”
“Yes, but… not for that,” she replies.
“Come a little closer…” A dull purple-red glow draws their eyes to the highest platform flying above them. “Come to my world… where I make the rules.”
Suddenly, everyone except Merla, Astra, and Wren begin to float as the normal gravitational pressure that would keep them on the ground is no longer there. Aurelia, quick to think, flicks her crystal wand and she, Taffeta, Mace, and Veridian begin to fly.
Over the telepathic bond he had cast earlier, Veridian says, “I’m getting real evil demigod vibes here.”
“Creeper vibes as well,” Wren adds, trying to tuck Stripes into the bjorn across their back.
“It hasn’t said what it wants yet though…” Merla adds, though she isn’t confident in a conversation actually being constructive.
“Maybe we shouldn’t judge by its voice,” Veridian says, taking her lead. Merla looks at him and he shrugs. “Maybe it’s the culmination of everyone in the Dawnlands. Maybe it’s okay.”
Her doubt is clear as sunlight on a midsummer’s day.
“Sure. Why not hear them out first,” Mace agrees.
“Let’s go up. Not to get closer, but to try to see what’s speaking,” Taffeta says.
With everything being wet it makes flying through the air just that much more unpleasant. The urge to prestidigitate herself is strong, but not enough to distract from the sight Merla begins to see as Aurelia calls out, “How long have you been here?”
“I… oh yes, your time. Not so long… A few years, what would it be? Four, five years? Something like that. Yes, it’s been a joy…”
They get closer to the platform with the glow and Merla’s stomach becomes a hard knot as this thing speaks.
“I’ve seen you all so many times as you’ve passed through that portal… though many of you have used it less of late. I assume you’ve found other transportation… No matter. There’s plenty more delicious fish passing through my sea.”
Merla frowns. “Eew.”
“Disgusting,” Astra agrees.
As their group rises above the highest platform they see a mass of purply-red ooze. The sight reminds them of an oblex, something Merla has not seen since the last time she visited the Temple of the Raven Queen in the Shadowfell. But this thing is different. It is massive, nearly sixty feet across, undulating tendrils reaching far across the rocky island it currently sits on.
“It is even worse than I thought it could be,” Astra comments.
One huge tentacle rises up and slowly waves at them. Mace, for reasons unfathomable to Merla, enthusiastically waves back.
“This is lovely what you’ve done with the place. But as cosy as you have it here, would you like to tell us a little about how you’ve fared, what you’re trying to accomplish here?” he asks Taxation.
“My purpose is so complex it can’t be described in words.” Both Merla and Astra mentally roll their eyes. “You could just say I’m very hungry. You’ve come so far. Aurelia, you have spent so long trying to understand what I am. I’ve felt your frustration on the edge of my plane… It is very simple.”
In a mock imitation of hands, two tendrils come up to help illustrate its next words.
“I’m connected to that twist in the Weave. When you use your magic, I extract just a morsel when I’m hungry. No one notices. It is, what… a few days of their lives?”
“What the fuck, you’re extracting life expectancy?” Wren asks, incredulous.
“It’s all abstract but if you were to quantify it, it would come down to… a few days.”
“Every time they go through the portal?”
“If I’m paying attention.”
“Who said it was okay for you to do that?”
“I did. And, as you may have noticed, in this place my word is law.”
Gravity tilts and they all begin to float towards the undulating mass.
“But you’re draining life from others in another plane,” Veridian counters, correcting his flight as he does so. Merla and the others do the same.
“Where your word is not law,” Wren adds.
“So you’re here as interplanar justice,” Taxation muses. “Well all I have to do is murder all of you, problem solved. What say you, fancy being devoured?”
“Certainly not by you,” Merla quips.
Smirking, Mace says, “While I hate to point out the fly in your soup, we have found you. A single archmage has managed to track you down. I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention but we have a bunch of potential Aurelias in training in the Dawnlands and if we don’t come back, eventually they’ll come looking for you and eventually one will end this. Why don’t we strike a deal?”
“Is he serious?” Astra asks her.
Taxation seems to consider
“When it comes to striking a bargain, Mace is always serious,” Merla says, laying a careful hand on her harp’s strings.
“So you think I should just give up? Give up this perfect, once in a multiverse spot?” Mace just smiles pleasantly. Taxation scoffs. “I think I might just take my chances. Because you all look pretty tough compared to the rest of the people I see coming through here. If I take you all out, I think my next job will be much, much easier.”
Gravity shifts unexpectedly for the third time. In the blink of an eye, Merla and her allies suddenly find themselves below Taxation, and they have begun to hurtle down towards them all at terminal velocity.
Merla sings out a kulning call to inspire Aurelia.
“Keep going, everyone! I have a plan. Aurelia, we can do this.”
Even slowed, Astra is still quick. She manages to get Merla close enough to the writhing, heaving mass of Taxation, allowing her the chance to take the next six seconds to breath, focus, and listen.
The sound of the battle continuing below her begins to fall away. Taxation, after having savagely attacked Aurelia, goes after the other archmage. Veridian’s quick reaction sees an arcane shield of amber protect him though.
Breathe.
Sound continues to fall further away. Wren tries to blanket Taxation with glittering faerie fire but despite being a humongous mass, it separates itself just enough to get out of the way. Wren’s bitten out curse doesn’t even reach Merla’s ears as she hones in on the sound of her breath.
Focus.
An orb of screaming psychic energy hits her from the side, nearly disrupting the concentration she is trying to keep. Everything suddenly goes up in volume and there’s a moment when she feels the sound waves try to overtake her. But one strong beat of her heart later and all external sound becomes quieter again.
Focus.
The slow, rumbling response from Taxation to something Taffeta says is in another room, across the continent, on another plane now. Merla is falling inwards, tumbling and swirling into the depths of her own rhythm, searching for a mote of power, her own Song.
Listen…
The ring of gold in her eyes spins into a brilliance akin to the sun as a familiar Song begins to ring through her. She sees the failed banishment and a concern begins to grow. If no one damages Taxation before the end of these six seconds, then this plan will fail. But if she rises up from these depths too quickly will she lose the magic she seeks?
The strange dual status of looking up from deep within herself and yet keeping a keen and insightful eye on the enemy means when Merla’s voice comes across the telepathic bond it sounds like she is both screaming and whispering.
“Please, someone try to hurt it more. I don’t want to lose this spell!”
Veridian steps forward just as the amber shield protecting him fades away. He evokes the burning light of the Plane of Fire, sending out an explosive ball of fire that the tentacle mass of Taxation laughs at. Foolish. Even as sound begins to fall away completely this time, Merla can see what she is looking for is about to happen.
I can hear it…
Merla dives down, down, down, slipping past where she was before, gliding along the winds of her thoughts and emotion. She closes her eyes, hearing a melody getting louder and louder. It begins to vibrate up her spine. It ripples down her legs to tremble in her toes. It surges across her back resonating in her hands, ringing through her finger tips. She glows, bright as the sun, bright as a star, and opens her eyes.
The Song…
The fireball explodes.
Taxation recoils.
Merla exhales.
“Be still.”
For a moment Taxation is stunned. No one moves. No one breathes. No one does anything.
Then the aberration wobbles and the reality altering words Merla spoke are shaken away.
“Good effort wearing it down, Veridian,” Aurelia says. “I think I’ll take a leaf from your book.”
Pointing her crystal wand up, Aurelia casts a thin green ray of light into the centre of Taxation, who cannot escape it. A resounding amount of force damage sees the thing shunted back. Just as it starts to recover a mote of radiant starlight comes from the crown of stars circling Aurelia’s head.
“Get out of my town!” she screams at it.
“No! I’m the one in control here! I will eat all of you!” Taxation says defiantly. A large tentacle whips out, hitting Aurelia so hard she spins around.
“No, you won’t.”
The words are followed up by a second radiant beam of sunlight, this time from Merla’s crown of the sun and a spinning chip of magical mica she pulls from her magical harp. The spell lodges deep in a fold of Taxation where it explodes in a resonating chord of music. What’s left of the massive creature flops over, dead.
Aurelia drops to her knees, shaking. “Dear gods. I am not made for this.”
A whirl of iridescent wings and feathers circle around the archmage as Merla calls out. “Everyone, come a little closer. Yes, you too Wren… Just a little- That’s good!”
Plucking a soothing chord, the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity blankets everyone with a healing word. As the sounds fade, she holds out a hand to Aurelia to help her up.
“So that’s it. We’ve destroyed the whole concept of Taxation?” Mace asks as he comes sauntering up to the group.
Aurelia smiles a thanks to Merla before addressing the question. “We’ve beaten something. Probably from the Far Realms. I believe this demiplane is constructed of the energy it was consuming. I think that creature was more of a manifestation of the plane itself.” She turns to Veridian. “I think, if you would be available for the rest of the afternoon, we should be able to deconstruct a large portion of this. Try to unravel some of this strange thing…”
“So that’s what that strange feeling was yesterday.” Marto shakes his head. “Well, thanks for helping fix that, Merla. Though I had no idea it was a problem.”
“I am glad I can still lend a hand every now and then. It’s also nice to visit when there isn’t a crisis happening.”
“Speaking of, after you left home Ma and Pa asked how you were doing, really. I told them I didn’t know anything was wrong but that you’d visit them again soon.”
Merla winces. “I appreciate that. The Queen of Summer needed me rather unexpectedly. Important Court business.”
“Is everything alright?” Marto asks, concerned.
Merla hesitates just a moment too long. “I’m not sure.” She looks across at her brother. “I’m sure if there’s anything that the Courts need help with they will ask the community here.”
“Yeah, but… Are you okay?”
“I am, yes.” She sees his doubt and switches to Sylvan. “Honest and truly, I am alright.”
Marto knows enough that Merla cannot lie outright when she speaks the faen tongue. Still, there is something she is not telling him, and she knows he knows. It hangs in the air between them like a sword.
“Things are stirring. Things that have not for a long long time. I cannot say more than that, Marto.” She doesn’t say it, but in her eyes he can see the apology in her eyes.
Marto looks at her for a long moment holding out a hand to her. Merla takes it gratefully. “I’m here if you need anything. You may be an important fey queen over there, but you will always be my sister. No matter what.”
Tears almost spring to her eyes but Merla manages to hold them back. “I’m so glad I have you, and our family, in my life. You all mean so much to me… More than you may ever know.” She squeezes his hand and smiles.
Every time she has come back to the Dawnlands, with the exception of last year’s fashion show, the young archfey has always appeared as the people here remember her: tall for a halfling at 3’9”, sun-kissed skin with a soft golden shimmer, blonde and pink hair loose and free, soft waves tempered to be not as vibrant and bright. Part of it was to be approachable. Having been queen of her own court for only a short time, Merla was still learning the necessary subtleties needed to be listened to and taken seriously like her Mother. The memories of the fey are short in some aspects, but longer in others. Mortals are different though. They can easily forget the deeds done in the past if the change presented is too jarring, too sudden.
“Any idea what the Archmage Archselon might need from us?” Astra asks as they land just outside the three story house on the edge of the Plaza.
“Something serious, for sure. But beyond that I-”
Out of nowhere Merla feels something soft and fluffy brush past her leg before feeling a jot of surprise across her and Astra’s bond.
“Asrta are you- Oh!”
And then the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity was raising a hand to her mouth in an attempt to hold back the bright peals of musical laughter escaping past her lips.
A bader, snoot half buried into Astra’s starlight mane, was draped across the winged unicorn’s back, kicking the woven flower bridle out of the way to get closer to glitter and shine. Astra tries to look over her shoulder to the little creature, which only causes the little beast to roll around more in excitement.
“Aww isn’t that sweet, Astra. Stripes missed you!”
There’s a feeling of delight mixed with barely contained pride. “I think the little creature is having an episode…”
“Uhh, should I…”
The voice comes from behind Merla and she turns.
“Oh Wren! Hello,” Merla says, smiling up at the young aasimar. “Don’t worry about them. Astra loves the attention. Come, let’s go inside.”
The two approach Aurelia’s front door but before either can knock, it opens.
“Good morning. Hello. Yes, please do come in. There’s tea and biscuits laid out. We will get into it very soon. Just want to wait for the others to get here before we do.”
The greeting seems normal enough. Wren even appears to take it at face value, stepping inside and already making note of the entrances and exits in the room, leaving Stripes to spend time with Astra. But Merla has seen Aurelia in various situations of stress and worry over the years and has only become more intuitive. She senses the slightest note of fear in the archmage’s Song.
Merla rests a reassuring hand on Aurelia’s arm, letting her own Song and a tiny bit of Summer’s Warmth lend credibility to her words. “We will sort it out. We always do. It will be alright, Aurelia.”
Aurelia takes a breath, holding it in for a moment as her eyes meet Merla’s. “Yes. Of course. Now that you, and the others are coming, we will finally deal with this. Thank you.”
“Since the founding of Daring, I have studied the portal, first as a scholar and later as an expert in the field of planar portals and teleportation, trying to understand what was this rift that we all came through. I came to understand, in time, that it was a very special twist in the fabric of the Weave.”
They all sit in Aurelia’s house — Merla, Wren, Mace, Veridian and Taffeta. In all honesty, it surprised Merla to see Taff there. She knew the halfling didn’t particularly like the councilwoman, and her expression said as much in very subtle ways.
“Unfortunately, during the orcish invasion I took the decision to destroy a large portion of that magic. Before then we could travel to and from Faerûn without any magic at all, and could teleport to other places with very little additional magical power needed.”
It had been some time since Merla had seen Mace as well. When he arrived, she noted he seemed to walk with a slightly springer step than he did previously. The wine he brought was tactfully put to the side as this was a different kind of business call than the entrepreneur was possibly hoping for.
“After its collapse, the twist was still present… and we’ve been able to use it since then to make teleportation and planar travel a little easier. In simple terms, it meant a lower tier of magic was needed, which made it more productive.”
As for the other archmage in the room, he had glanced over at the table piled with papers as Wren had but now studied Aurelia intrigued. Now Veridian has one hand half covering his lips as he follows Aurelia’s slow pace and gesticulation, thoughts clearly racing.
“A few years ago I noticed something slightly off in the equations. A piece of energy I couldn’t account for. But things were fine, we kept using it, and I have kept studying it… In the last few months I’ve made a few breakthroughs and now I understand the basics of what is happening. That’s why I called you.”
Merla cocks their head to the side just a little, expectantly.
“There’s an energy imbalance. Every time the energy is used and we teleport someone somewhere, a little bit of it disappears. This was difficult to spot but I’m now convinced every time the portal is used a piece of… something is lost. I’m convinced that it is lost from the people travelling, not from the spell being cast.”
They all shift uncomfortably in their seats. No one says it but they are all thinking it: How much has been taken away from me over the years? How many times have I travelled through that teleportation circle? What have I lost and I didn’t even know it?
“I have located where the energy, the ‘ness’, is going. The coordinates lead to a demiplane attached or entangled with the portal. I don’t know the details, but something has been draining energy, substance from people using the portal for at least three years.” Aurelia finally stops moving and her hands come to rest by her side. “I don’t know what is in there but I, under no circumstances, want to go in there on my own.”
There was a weighted beat of silence. Then, “Sounds eerily familiar. Like the Daring Heights tax authority,” Mace says.
“You pay taxes?” Wren says.
“There are fees, levies,” the tiefling explains. He arches a shadowed eyebrow at Wren. “Surely you pay taxes whenever you pick up an apple at the market?”
“Is that what you live in Port Ffirst?” Veridian asks pointedly of Mace.
Wren internjects, “Nothing wrong with Port Ffirst.”
Mace nods. “Port First has many attractions. But,” he returns his attention to Aurelia, “back to the matter at hand. Do you have an inkling of what the thing being lost is? Does anyone miss whatever they’ve lost? Or is this a victimless crime?”
Aurelia explains that people complain, yes, but not about the kind of thing she is thinking of. “I suspect it’s small. A fragment, something ethereal. Some time. A memory. I don’t know. But I want to find out and stop it. Your Majesty?”
Merla holds up a hand. “Call me Merla, please. We are not at Court.” She lowers it and leans forward slightly. “If we are to solve this, what does that look like? It is obviously going to affect how teleportation is done from here, but what about all that magic? What are we going to do when we find it? Maybe the person or thing doesn’t realise it is doing it. Maybe it is hurt. Maybe there is something nefarious. What is our goal, Aurelia?”
“My goal is to rectify the situation as much as we can once we understand it. If we can get back what’s lost, that’s great, but we won’t be able to trace everyone who’s ever been through. But if there are reparations that can be feasibly made, that’s something to consider. It’s kept me up a little bit.” She adds the last part almost like an afterthought.
It certainly follows what I had seen in her earlier when I arrived.
“Would there be a concern that the amount of energy that’s been collected, which is probably considerable, may be released?” Veridian asks. “What if it comes back through the portal? Is there a concern about collateral damage to Daring Heights?”
“I suggest you and I keep a weather eye on that,” Aurelia says with a pointed look to Veridian. “If there’s energy to contain or redirect, we will. There are ways.”
They briefly discuss the different ways energy could be redirected and where. Veridian boldly suggests sending into the Nine Hells, which Merla instantly tenses at. Aurelia seems to share her extreme hesitation and even says as such, but the mage seems to have another demiplane that could work, Merla offering the option of the Plane of the Seven. Then Mace comes in with the idea that the energy could be bottled up to distribute later, to which Wren adds would have to be for free. Mace doesn’t exactly scowl but it’s clear he would rather not give away a resource of such value for free.
“Well,” the tiefling starts, sitting back in his chair, “as much as I would like to help Daring Heights, even though no such help was forthcoming when Port Ffirst was scorched by dragons, but I shall let that lie-”
Nearly everyone gives Mace a pointed look.
“How do we get there?”
“I have the means,” Aurelia says, confident. Then she turns to the actual halfling in the room, the only one who hasn’t said anything this whole time. “Taffeta, you’ve been quiet.”
Merla picks up her bergamot flavoured tea and takes a tiny sip, waiting with anticipation. She still didn’t know to what extent Taffeta was here to help or to judge the archmage.
“It’s strange,” Taffeta starts, brows furrowed slightly. “It almost sounds like the opposite of what happened to me when you collapsed the portal back then. It was like a piece of it got stuck inside me somehow.”
Merla’s eyebrows raise a fraction. “So that’s how she got those abilities.”
“You never knew that?” Astra asks her.
“Nothing specific, but these lands are riddled with portals and rifts to different Planes. I should have known it would have been connected to something more significant for Taffeta…”
“…if it was a danger to the balance of the planes then Zmee or the dryads would’ve said something, but it could still be a problem and the best way to find out what it is is to go there.”
Everything is wet. There is moisture in the air that causes a purple haze that casts them all in dim lavender light. Astra lifts a hoof out of the one inch of liquid they are all standing in and gives it a disgusted shake. Merla’s attention is up though. The haze blends into a purple void that has enormous islands of rock floating at every level imaginable. She suppresses a shiver. This reminds her a little too much of the shared mind space of the Black Heart Cabal.
“Not a lot of interior design taste,” Aurelia states. “Hmm, interesting. I think we’re probably heading that way.” She points.
The archmage’s voice echoes out, carrying farther and farther away. As it begins to come back to them it has transformed into a hideous, horrendous, gurgling laughter.
“You finally found me, Aurelia. It has been… so long since I’ve seen you. And you’ve brought… friends. Veridian, hmm,” the voice almost seems to taste his name, “all grown up. Merla, now, oh so different! Wren and, mmm, let’s say Menace shall we? And… Taffeta! Welcome, you are most welcome here you puny little thing.”
“I don’t like how it speaks,” Astra says, stamping her hoof down on the wet ground, her earlier disgust forgotten.
“I don’t think the rest of us do either, Astra.”
“Thank you! The warmth of your welcome in your humble abode is all very toasty,” Mace says, stepping forward addressing the voice, though he doesn’t know where to look. “You seem to have us at a slight disadvantage. Who do we have the absolute profound pleasure of dealing with today?”
“Names are for things like you… Things that are definable… But if you want to call me something, Menace, you could name me… Taxation.”
Mace leans over and whispers to Taffeta, “I already dislike this guy, don’t you?”
“Yes, but… not for that,” she replies.
“Come a little closer…” A dull purple-red glow draws their eyes to the highest platform flying above them. “Come to my world… where I make the rules.”
Suddenly, everyone except Merla, Astra, and Wren begin to float as the normal gravitational pressure that would keep them on the ground is no longer there. Aurelia, quick to think, flicks her crystal wand and she, Taffeta, Mace, and Veridian begin to fly.
Over the telepathic bond he had cast earlier, Veridian says, “I’m getting real evil demigod vibes here.”
“Creeper vibes as well,” Wren adds, trying to tuck Stripes into the bjorn across their back.
“It hasn’t said what it wants yet though…” Merla adds, though she isn’t confident in a conversation actually being constructive.
“Maybe we shouldn’t judge by its voice,” Veridian says, taking her lead. Merla looks at him and he shrugs. “Maybe it’s the culmination of everyone in the Dawnlands. Maybe it’s okay.”
Her doubt is clear as sunlight on a midsummer’s day.
“Sure. Why not hear them out first,” Mace agrees.
“Let’s go up. Not to get closer, but to try to see what’s speaking,” Taffeta says.
With everything being wet it makes flying through the air just that much more unpleasant. The urge to prestidigitate herself is strong, but not enough to distract from the sight Merla begins to see as Aurelia calls out, “How long have you been here?”
“I… oh yes, your time. Not so long… A few years, what would it be? Four, five years? Something like that. Yes, it’s been a joy…”
They get closer to the platform with the glow and Merla’s stomach becomes a hard knot as this thing speaks.
“I’ve seen you all so many times as you’ve passed through that portal… though many of you have used it less of late. I assume you’ve found other transportation… No matter. There’s plenty more delicious fish passing through my sea.”
Merla frowns. “Eew.”
“Disgusting,” Astra agrees.
As their group rises above the highest platform they see a mass of purply-red ooze. The sight reminds them of an oblex, something Merla has not seen since the last time she visited the Temple of the Raven Queen in the Shadowfell. But this thing is different. It is massive, nearly sixty feet across, undulating tendrils reaching far across the rocky island it currently sits on.
“It is even worse than I thought it could be,” Astra comments.
One huge tentacle rises up and slowly waves at them. Mace, for reasons unfathomable to Merla, enthusiastically waves back.
“This is lovely what you’ve done with the place. But as cosy as you have it here, would you like to tell us a little about how you’ve fared, what you’re trying to accomplish here?” he asks Taxation.
“My purpose is so complex it can’t be described in words.” Both Merla and Astra mentally roll their eyes. “You could just say I’m very hungry. You’ve come so far. Aurelia, you have spent so long trying to understand what I am. I’ve felt your frustration on the edge of my plane… It is very simple.”
In a mock imitation of hands, two tendrils come up to help illustrate its next words.
“I’m connected to that twist in the Weave. When you use your magic, I extract just a morsel when I’m hungry. No one notices. It is, what… a few days of their lives?”
“What the fuck, you’re extracting life expectancy?” Wren asks, incredulous.
“It’s all abstract but if you were to quantify it, it would come down to… a few days.”
“Every time they go through the portal?”
“If I’m paying attention.”
“Who said it was okay for you to do that?”
“I did. And, as you may have noticed, in this place my word is law.”
Gravity tilts and they all begin to float towards the undulating mass.
“But you’re draining life from others in another plane,” Veridian counters, correcting his flight as he does so. Merla and the others do the same.
“Where your word is not law,” Wren adds.
“So you’re here as interplanar justice,” Taxation muses. “Well all I have to do is murder all of you, problem solved. What say you, fancy being devoured?”
“Certainly not by you,” Merla quips.
Smirking, Mace says, “While I hate to point out the fly in your soup, we have found you. A single archmage has managed to track you down. I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention but we have a bunch of potential Aurelias in training in the Dawnlands and if we don’t come back, eventually they’ll come looking for you and eventually one will end this. Why don’t we strike a deal?”
“Is he serious?” Astra asks her.
Taxation seems to consider
“When it comes to striking a bargain, Mace is always serious,” Merla says, laying a careful hand on her harp’s strings.
“So you think I should just give up? Give up this perfect, once in a multiverse spot?” Mace just smiles pleasantly. Taxation scoffs. “I think I might just take my chances. Because you all look pretty tough compared to the rest of the people I see coming through here. If I take you all out, I think my next job will be much, much easier.”
Gravity shifts unexpectedly for the third time. In the blink of an eye, Merla and her allies suddenly find themselves below Taxation, and they have begun to hurtle down towards them all at terminal velocity.
Merla sings out a kulning call to inspire Aurelia.
“Keep going, everyone! I have a plan. Aurelia, we can do this.”
Even slowed, Astra is still quick. She manages to get Merla close enough to the writhing, heaving mass of Taxation, allowing her the chance to take the next six seconds to breath, focus, and listen.
The sound of the battle continuing below her begins to fall away. Taxation, after having savagely attacked Aurelia, goes after the other archmage. Veridian’s quick reaction sees an arcane shield of amber protect him though.
Breathe.
Sound continues to fall further away. Wren tries to blanket Taxation with glittering faerie fire but despite being a humongous mass, it separates itself just enough to get out of the way. Wren’s bitten out curse doesn’t even reach Merla’s ears as she hones in on the sound of her breath.
Focus.
An orb of screaming psychic energy hits her from the side, nearly disrupting the concentration she is trying to keep. Everything suddenly goes up in volume and there’s a moment when she feels the sound waves try to overtake her. But one strong beat of her heart later and all external sound becomes quieter again.
Focus.
The slow, rumbling response from Taxation to something Taffeta says is in another room, across the continent, on another plane now. Merla is falling inwards, tumbling and swirling into the depths of her own rhythm, searching for a mote of power, her own Song.
Listen…
The ring of gold in her eyes spins into a brilliance akin to the sun as a familiar Song begins to ring through her. She sees the failed banishment and a concern begins to grow. If no one damages Taxation before the end of these six seconds, then this plan will fail. But if she rises up from these depths too quickly will she lose the magic she seeks?
The strange dual status of looking up from deep within herself and yet keeping a keen and insightful eye on the enemy means when Merla’s voice comes across the telepathic bond it sounds like she is both screaming and whispering.
“Please, someone try to hurt it more. I don’t want to lose this spell!”
Veridian steps forward just as the amber shield protecting him fades away. He evokes the burning light of the Plane of Fire, sending out an explosive ball of fire that the tentacle mass of Taxation laughs at. Foolish. Even as sound begins to fall away completely this time, Merla can see what she is looking for is about to happen.
I can hear it…
Merla dives down, down, down, slipping past where she was before, gliding along the winds of her thoughts and emotion. She closes her eyes, hearing a melody getting louder and louder. It begins to vibrate up her spine. It ripples down her legs to tremble in her toes. It surges across her back resonating in her hands, ringing through her finger tips. She glows, bright as the sun, bright as a star, and opens her eyes.
The Song…
The fireball explodes.
Taxation recoils.
Merla exhales.
“Be still.”
For a moment Taxation is stunned. No one moves. No one breathes. No one does anything.
Then the aberration wobbles and the reality altering words Merla spoke are shaken away.
“Good effort wearing it down, Veridian,” Aurelia says. “I think I’ll take a leaf from your book.”
Pointing her crystal wand up, Aurelia casts a thin green ray of light into the centre of Taxation, who cannot escape it. A resounding amount of force damage sees the thing shunted back. Just as it starts to recover a mote of radiant starlight comes from the crown of stars circling Aurelia’s head.
“Get out of my town!” she screams at it.
“No! I’m the one in control here! I will eat all of you!” Taxation says defiantly. A large tentacle whips out, hitting Aurelia so hard she spins around.
“No, you won’t.”
The words are followed up by a second radiant beam of sunlight, this time from Merla’s crown of the sun and a spinning chip of magical mica she pulls from her magical harp. The spell lodges deep in a fold of Taxation where it explodes in a resonating chord of music. What’s left of the massive creature flops over, dead.
Aurelia drops to her knees, shaking. “Dear gods. I am not made for this.”
A whirl of iridescent wings and feathers circle around the archmage as Merla calls out. “Everyone, come a little closer. Yes, you too Wren… Just a little- That’s good!”
Plucking a soothing chord, the Queen of Virtue and Virtuosity blankets everyone with a healing word. As the sounds fade, she holds out a hand to Aurelia to help her up.
“So that’s it. We’ve destroyed the whole concept of Taxation?” Mace asks as he comes sauntering up to the group.
Aurelia smiles a thanks to Merla before addressing the question. “We’ve beaten something. Probably from the Far Realms. I believe this demiplane is constructed of the energy it was consuming. I think that creature was more of a manifestation of the plane itself.” She turns to Veridian. “I think, if you would be available for the rest of the afternoon, we should be able to deconstruct a large portion of this. Try to unravel some of this strange thing…”
“So that’s what that strange feeling was yesterday.” Marto shakes his head. “Well, thanks for helping fix that, Merla. Though I had no idea it was a problem.”
“I am glad I can still lend a hand every now and then. It’s also nice to visit when there isn’t a crisis happening.”
“Speaking of, after you left home Ma and Pa asked how you were doing, really. I told them I didn’t know anything was wrong but that you’d visit them again soon.”
Merla winces. “I appreciate that. The Queen of Summer needed me rather unexpectedly. Important Court business.”
“Is everything alright?” Marto asks, concerned.
Merla hesitates just a moment too long. “I’m not sure.” She looks across at her brother. “I’m sure if there’s anything that the Courts need help with they will ask the community here.”
“Yeah, but… Are you okay?”
“I am, yes.” She sees his doubt and switches to Sylvan. “Honest and truly, I am alright.”
Marto knows enough that Merla cannot lie outright when she speaks the faen tongue. Still, there is something she is not telling him, and she knows he knows. It hangs in the air between them like a sword.
“Things are stirring. Things that have not for a long long time. I cannot say more than that, Marto.” She doesn’t say it, but in her eyes he can see the apology in her eyes.
Marto looks at her for a long moment holding out a hand to her. Merla takes it gratefully. “I’m here if you need anything. You may be an important fey queen over there, but you will always be my sister. No matter what.”
Tears almost spring to her eyes but Merla manages to hold them back. “I’m so glad I have you, and our family, in my life. You all mean so much to me… More than you may ever know.” She squeezes his hand and smiles.