60 (II)

Dragons [I]

Uva gave Shiv an appreciative look.

As the group observed Can Hu, Valor drifted beside the automaton and examined the armor. “You are Skill-Broken,” Valor said.

“I am,” Can-Hu replied. “And you are Valor Thann, the Legendary Pathbearer.”

“Yes. And you are one of the Penitent Chassis, perhaps one of the few left in existence,” Valor surmised. “How remarkable. But are you still sound of mind? I have met some others of your kind. And had to administer a… final mercy. They still thought they were in Great London.”

“Yes,” Can-Hu said, sorrow and sadness lining the machine’s voice. “I decommissioned some of my comrades myself. They deserved better. I gave them better. And I carry their memory with me.”

No one had anything to say to that, not even Valor.

“I am broken,” Can-Hu continued, “but this is to my advantage. He will face a Necromancer. They strike at the soul. They start at the exterior where one’s strongest, densest skills are. And mine are but debris.”

Valor nodded, but he seemed troubled. “Indeed, that is true. But if they manage to wound you enough, then what remains of you will break, and you will be no more.”

“I am willing to accept that—if only I can serve as armor once more.” Can Hu was resolute.

Valor grunted. “Then if you fall, I will carry your memory as well, armored one.”

“You have my gratitude, ancient one.”

“I never thought someone getting a set of armor would befoul my mood so much.” Adam frowned at Can Hu. “I… I must protest. I don’t know you, but do you not care what else you might do? How else you might live?”

Can Hu turned its gleaming red eyes on Adam. “Pathbearer. Is there something—anything—you would give to change an instance in your history? A moment in the past you wish you could do again, do better.”

The Young Lord almost choked. “There… is.”

“Imagine your entire history were those moments. And the proudest day of your life was also the day your soul was shattered. I have no fear of death, and the life I live and the good I might achieve as but a quiet crafter is meager. Do you wish to live in indefinite, decaying peace, or die virtuous? Die legendary, and make a proper tale of your end?”

Adam didn’t reply immediately. So Can Hu continued talking. “Your silence betrays your answer. Do not ask me to choose peace when you cannot. We are Pathbearers. I am a Pathbearer—despite the lies seared into my code, and the wrongdoings I have performed.”

The automaton turned away from the Young Lord and looked at the Composer. “Great Goddess. You have been kind to me when the world regarded me as scrap. Today, I wish to dedicate myself in service to you. And to this city that allowed me to stay, that allowed me to prosper in peace.”

“Oh, Can Hu,” the Composer said, clutching her harp close to her chest as she sighed. “It is well. You are… You are a song in motion. You are history incarnate. I know you have made your mind, but I will grieve deeply if the worst comes to pass.”

“It will be a song sweet and sad,” the goddess continued as she cupped her hands together once more. The golden glow of the Quest still burned faintly but unmistakably. “One last bestowal, for one more Pathbearer.”

“Then play a song in my memory, and know that I tried to do what was right in the end.” Can Hu’s inner machinery whined as it tried to move. “Pilot,” it called out to Shiv. “I have need of you. I will shield you as best I can, and build for you with all I have left, if you would only carry me as the burden I am.”

“No burden,” Shiv said. He stepped forward, and he entered the armor. Something felt different this time. Something felt final about this moment. For him. For everyone here. He pressed his back against Can Hu and aligned his limbs with the armor. Slowly, Can Hu’s half-skull lowered over Shiv’s upper head. Strobing lights and flashing colors washed over Shiv’s face as the automaton’s sensors aligned with him. He then saw out through Can Hu’s eyes, and saw the world in vivid—albeit flickering—detail. The sound quality was also far better as well.

“There was a time…” Can Hu began, its voice even clearer inside. The unfurled armor began to close, with each plate of bone collapsing around Shiv, gripping his body tight. “There was a time when I was whole, where I aligned my intellect with my pilot’s, and we fought as one. That is broken in me now. But the base level functions still remain.”

“That’s fine,” Shiv said. “Basics are good. We’ll start from there.”

Shiv tried moving his arms. He did it with caution so as not to break Can Hu. Only when he was certain did he take his first step, and it felt the same as it ever did. The only difference was that he had someone else in the armor with him. He barely noticed the weight difference.

“I am technically wearing this armor, not you.” Can Hu hummed in amusement as they approached the Composer. “Your exoskeleton—it is attached to me by ports and slots. Direct integration into my body would see it decay and break as well. For it would be a part of myself. And the ruin of my Toughness will spread.”

“It goes that deep?” Shiv said, aghast.

“Yes. Your skills are who you are, your personal legend. And I will never be durable again. Not personally.”

“That’s alright,” Shiv said. He reached into the golden light, and the Quest flared a final time. But not to him. “I’ll be strong and tough enough for both of us. Can Hu. You promise me something?”

“Yes?” the automaton said. “Ah… A Quest… It has been so long.”

Shiv continued. “You promise that you’ll release me from the armor the moment I tell you. I won’t have you dying for nothing.”

“We will not be dying for nothing.”

“You know what I mean,” Shiv said, his voice resolute. “You want to be my armor? Fine. But that makes you my responsibility. And I won’t let you break. Not if I can help it.”

“Then you are greater of virtue than my original pilots.”

“And don’t call me that,” Shiv said. “I’m not your pilot. I’m your fellow Pathbearer. We fight together. We don’t use each other.”

“Understood… Pathbearer.”

The golden light of the Quest faded, and Shiv watched his bone armor glitter a final time before Can Hu internalized the Quest.

“Can the Quest let you rebuild your skills?” Shiv asked. “Ten levels and an Adept Evolution is something, no?”

“No,” Can Hu said. “But it can help me create new ones. And that will be enough. I will not be who I was. But I will build myself into something new regardless.”

And it didn’t take much more than that for Shiv to decide he really liked the Penitent Chassis.

“Well.” Adam sighed. “Now that the matter of the armor has been resolved… I suppose we should gather whatever we can as fast as we can and make haste for this interception.”

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“Yes,” Uva said. “I’ll go to Elaboration and get the Jealousy—”

“I still have something for both of you,” Shiv said, looking at Uva and Adam. “The Slayers said they didn’t want to fight anymore, right?”

“Yes,” Adam said.

“Well. Then it’s time they give their borrowed equipment back.”

***

Equipment: [Shroud of the Unyielding Jade]

Tier: Master

Condition: Perfect

Composition: Celestial Jade

Enchantments > Temporal Warding; Spatial Warding; Magical Resistance 110; Self-Mending

Shiv tightened a final layer of an adamantine skeletal carapace to Uva’s chest. The metallic coloring of his bones and the brilliant jade of the former Inquisitor’s armor clashed, but the white molded over the green had a particular look to it.

“Too heavy?” Shiv asked.

“No,” Uva replied with a grunt.

Shiv stared at her. “Liar.”

“I’ll just think of it as Physicality training,” Uva replied. “But I’ll be needing every bit of armor I can get. The Magical Resistance is useful as well.”

“Shiv,” Can Hu said. “Lighten the load around her head and spread it out around her neck. There is too much pressure there. Whiplash will break her neck.”

“Really? Shit. Thanks, Can Hu.” Shiv cast a quick Biomancy spell, and the dense bone lining her helmet poured down along her shoulders.

A few of Can Hu’s drones flew by, and they chirped as they examined Uva. Suddenly, a second set of images expanded in the corner of Shiv’s vision. “Whoa.” He found himself staring at Uva’s elbows and knees from different points of view. The drones extended their many limbs as some began to cut and saw at Shiv’s armor with small drills. They worked in two teams, one jabbing forth with heated drills while others cut with ones tipped with frost.

“I will shear away the uneven edges and jutting matter in case she gets caught on something,” Can Hu declared. “Your work is finished.”

“What’s with the drills?” Shiv asked.

“To counteract Adamantine Adaption. Your Toughness learns to resist a specific kind of physical damage. It can be countered by rapid alternation.”

“Is that how you modified my armor?” Shiv asked.

“Correct,” Can Hu replied.

“Well. Good job.” Shiv was impressed. “And you’re directing all the drones? How?”

“Machine Mastermind is one of my few remaining Master-Tier Skills,” Can Hu said. “Think of it as Psychomancy. But not truly. It is a skill only for automata. A skill that other automata fear. I am directing other drones even now. But should they awaken, I will release them and ask if they wish to remain with me.”

“Why?”

“Because what kind of freed slave will keep another in bondage?” Can Hu said.

Shiv thought about it for a second, then nodded. He liked the way Can Hu thought about these things.

“Looking good, Sister Uva,” Ikki said, giving a thumbs-up. The young Umbral had come to the teleportation anchor to see them off, but she had a worried look on her face. The rest of Uva’s team didn’t seem much happier. Two of them actually looked pissed.

“I’ll be fine, Sister Ikki,” Uva said, testing her movement. “I am, as you can see, in good hands.”

Ikki giggled. “Yeah. Tell me more about Shiv’s good hands.”

“Ikki,” Uva groaned.

The young Umbral paused, and then she hugged Uva. The drones parted, allowing the two their moment. The rest of the team crowded in and laid their hands on her as well. Uva froze, and she regarded the rest of them.

“My death is neither planned nor certain,” Uva deadpanned.

“I know. And you’re not going to die.” Ikki broke the hug. “Right, Shiv?”

“Yeah,” Shiv said, unwilling to consider anything happening to Uva—unwilling to allow the possibility. “She’s not.”

Uva’s team Pyromancer glared at Shiv. “She better not.”

“Keep her safe,” the team vanguard declared, slamming her fist against Shiv’s chest.

“Or else,” the team archer murmured.

Then, they all suddenly hugged him, too. Especially Ikki.

“And you can’t die either,” Ikki said, her arms barely able to wrap around him.

Shiv chuckled. “Dying’s kind of my thing.”

“Just don’t stay dead. I can’t bully Uva anymore without you. And I really don’t want to find out what sad Uva is like.”

“Come back alive, Master Shiv,” the Pyromancer declared. “Don’t abuse yourself either. You… you give enough. No one can question that.”

Shiv remembered how horrified the Pyromancer was as he got burned alive.

“Can’t be worse than the anchor,” Shiv muttered.

Everyone shuddered at that.

“Please don’t remind me,” the team archer groaned.

Off to the side, Shiv watched as Adam spoke to the Slayers.

“And you two will be fine while I am gone,” Adam said, observing his new saber. “The Composer will treat you as guests and will make sure you are taken care of. When we finish with this dragon business and get the fragment of Valor back, I’ll return for more details on how to pass through the gate. I’m not a dedicated Jump Mage, but… But with the Adept-Tier Skill Evolution, I might be able to force an advancement to Dimensionality.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” Tran grunted every word like he was pulling a knife out of himself. Heather couldn’t even meet Adam’s face. “I’m…”

Adam reached out and gripped both of them by the shoulder. “It is fine. You have nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, the Republic has much it owes you. I have much I owe you. There is nothing wrong with not wanting to rush off to face certain death.”

“We’re supposed to be Slayers,” Heather said, sounding on the verge of tears. “We’re… We’re… You’re barely even twenty, Young Lord. And you’re going out to do this while we just—”

“Rest. Recover. Heal.” Adam’s words were severe, and his eyes burned with intensity. “That is an order. You are wounded. That is what you are, and I will not have either of you torture yourselves with guilt.”

“Yeah,” Shiv agreed. “What he said.” Both Slayers looked at him in surprise. Shiv shrugged awkwardly. “I’m sorry for the whole Orcish Rage thing. And being rough with both of you. Maybe I should have been… I don’t know. I’m a petty bastard sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Adam laughed.

“Always,” Shiv corrected.

“It—” Heather swallowed. “I never really, really thanked you for saving me. For saving Tran.”

“Don’t,” Shiv said. “You already gave the armor back. Whatever was between us before is done now, Heather. Just treat yourself well. And maybe… I don’t know, come back and eat some of my food sometime, and we’ll call it a new start. You too, Tran.”

Tran stared at Shiv and swallowed. “I would have never done it.”

“What?” Shiv said. Adam looked confused as well.

“If the Town Lord called me to kill you. I wouldn’t have done it. Even if he did. I couldn’t. It wasn’t all an act.”

Shiv grunted. “I know. It’s fine. Roland… That’s between me and him. We’ll have our talk later. Take care of yourself, Tran. Oh, and tell Siggy to get herself ready. She’s going back into the gate with me.”

“She is?” Tran blinked.

“Yeah. I need someone I don’t actually care about that much at all and who knows the underbelly of the gate. Make sure she doesn’t run off.”

“Well, I think I can handle a goblin Adept,” Tran muttered.

As farewells and final preparations were made, Shiv, Uva, Can Hu, Adam, and Valor lingered in the teleportation anchor as everyone else cleared out. A few of Can Hu’s drones hovered in the air behind them as well, resembling rockets with four arms sticking out the side. The doors shut, and the spells began to turn. At the opposite end of the room, a tunnel of spatial webbing opened, and Adam let out a sigh. “Well. Out into the winnowing dark again. I won’t lie, all these bloody goodbyes have me bothered. It’s like I’m being sent off to my death.”

Valor sighed. “You might very well be, boy. I wouldn’t risk any of you but Shiv against the Dragon-Knights right now. I pray the Dragon-Knights are wounded or spent from their flight. And I pray that Composer’s Shadow Cells will be enough support for us to overcome the adversary. Whatever the case, we eliminate the Aviary agents first. They must not escape. They must not reach the gate.”

“I’ll make sure they do not,” Adam said, gesturing at his eyes. “In fact, I wonder just how long it will take me to find these fools.”

“Do not underestimate the knights,” Valor chided. “It will prove fatal.”

“I’m not,” the Young Lord said. “But do not think lowly of me, either. Not many ever reach the Tier of Hero. And few have Seer of Horizons.”

“I will assist as well,” Can Hu said. “I expect the enemy to be moving with active camouflage. All members of a Penitent fire team had optical cloaks at a minimum.”

“And I will keep our minds synchronized,” Uva said. “So together we might be able to see what one might miss.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Shiv said. “I guess I’ll… uh, keep my eyes peeled.”

“Oh, don’t worry Shiv,” Adam said. “For you see, I have a cunning plan.”

“Does it involve me launching myself at the dragons in a borderline suicidal frontal assault?” Shiv asked.

“Only the first part. And what’s with this borderline nonsense?”

Shiv guffawed. “You finally did it, Young Lord. You cracked me up.”

“And so we march toward our doom with joyous laughter,” Uva deadpanned. “Hurrah.”

“Hurrah,” Can Hu echoed.

And that was enough to make Uva and Valor snort too.

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