Sworded Affair

Chapter 105 : Crystal Clear

Mortality is overrated, Emma decided, as she struggled to stay awake atop Sir Bearington's back.

Apparently, bodies of flesh and blood weren't suited to loss of anima; nor did the side-effects dissipate even after regeneration had taken place. Whilst mental fatigue still accumulated over time as a suit of armor, that timescale was usually measured in days, not minutes.

The Sherwood Gallery was also being uncooperative; every tent and cabin the party encountered proving devoid of life. There were no traps, nor any further attacks, for all of Noah's vigilance as he took the lead, confident in the defences provided by the magical items on his person. There simply wasn't anything of note, except for the artwork scattered in each abode, depicting a young girl in a white sundress, pouting at the viewer. Unable to find a shop, they were reduced to wandering in circles, looking for a change in circumstances.

"I think the Gallery is mad at us," Noah concluded after encountering the tenth such item, this time an old, black and white photograph; the girl, as ever, remained unchanged.

"I don't see why we're being blamed," Emma protested, a touch indignant. "None of us have started any fights; we can't be held responsible for people coming after us."

"Woah, hold on!"

Noah staggered suddenly as Saint launched herself off of him, darting forward to a patch of dirt that looked no different from any other, and beginning to dig. Saint's paws gouged small furrows into the ground, keeping at it until she'd dug a hole that could fit her head comfortably. Then she turned around, met Emma's eyes and hopped in place.

"I saw you moving large amounts of earth to firefight earlier. You're more than capable of opening a big hole in the ground."

Saint stared a bit longer, then reared back and yawned, falling to the floor and curling up to sleep. Emma stared back, but sadly, she possessed no power to burn with her gaze alone; Saint even began to snore mockingly, the little rascal.

"Lazy cat," Emma laughed, shaking her head slightly. "Dad, can you move her out of the way? I'll take over the digging."

After a brief lull, during which Noah lifted the sleeping feline back onto his shoulders and away for the target, Emma got to work. Sir Bearington withdrew into her soul for a nap of his own, allowing the Earthbound Immortal to take the field. An earthen platform sprouted from below, large enough to catch both Emma and the coin-filled saddlebags before either hit the ground. A bit more focus moulded the flat surface into a mobile throne, allowing Emma to recline comfortably; because she was tired, and why bother walking when she had servants for that?

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Only when her possessions and personal comfort were secured did Emma turn to the objective; the ground parting to form a smooth ramp descending into the darkness. Noah took the lead again, showing that he could in fact conjure ordinary orange flames; not particularly powerful but a capable substitute for a torch, with Emma right behind him and her summon bringing up the rear. With that, the party set off down into the unknown.

---

Pevensey, historically, was a quiet little village in East Sussex. Located just a mile inland from England's southern coast, and the small seaside resort at the bay. A far cry from the bustling tourism at the water's edge, barely three thousand souls called Pevensey home: comprised primarily of those fifty and over, the majority of residents having retired outright. Pastimes included sailing, cricket and golf; and the village itself hosted a number of amenities for visitors on the way to the historic Pevensey Castle.

Built during the era of the Roman empire, and left in ruins for most of the time since; any passing locals would have been shocked to see the transformation presently underway. There were none, of course, because the elderly and infirm generally struggled against tides of demons that came by night, but it was the thought that counted. Because where once lay weathered foundations of common stone, now stood a towering edifice of black steel and stained glass, more than thrice the height of the structure it displaced, wiping away stone, grass and any unfortunates to have used the castle as a nesting ground. Sunlight caught upon beautiful frescoes, reflected into searing beams that scoured demons near and far, clearing the way unto the distant horizon.

All this, Overmind observed from her bedroom window with mounting satisfaction, as long-dormant safeguards returned to life smoothly, anchoring the castle to the mortal world.

"Despite the surprise, the terminus wasn't all bad. I never liked the idea of hiding away from mortals; now, the threat of their science has died, and magic reigns again."

Turning away from the view outside, Overmind returned her attention to the tower's interior. Only three weeks remained until the Solstice, and there was plenty of cleaning to be done before the first ball.

---

"Well I'll be damned, would you look at that?" Noah exclaimed, the fire in his hands fading as he brought an end to twenty minutes spent walking in silence.

Emma couldn't help but agree; she'd seen more than her fair share of oddity in the past months, but that did nothing to lessen the sight before her. A beautiful grotto, filled with glowing crystals on walls, floor and ceiling, just pure iridescent splendour as far as the eye could see. Every hue of the rainbow was out in force, and if she squinted Emma thought she could just about make out faces hidden within the light. The one, sole concession to human manufacture occupied the centre of the grotto; a large brass bowl labelled 'donations', recessed into the floor.

[There are many ways to make a storage item, but one of the most common and enduring is to carve them out of crystal. The requirements are exacting, and making the right selection is critical. Offer five hundred Thrones, and the negotiations can begin.]