Dragonheart Core - Chapter 109: New Homes

Well. It would certainly be easier to pretend that everything was normal and I had never even seen a rune when lovely little gifts like this kept presenting themselves.

Deep in my sixth floor, tucked in an alcove with capturing coral swirling up the scatter-reef to support a shallow bed, a gleaming silver-white light began to fade away, wisping away in great tendrils of faux fire—and a new creature opened her brilliant eyes.

The reefback turtle.

From five feet in diameter, she’d bloomed out to over eight, losing the stiff peak of her shell to a more sloping, smooth thing, the most brilliant emerald green you’d ever seen. Claws poked from the tips of her finned flippers, no longer made for terrestrial living, and her beak gleamed with a silver bite.

Most interesting, the scutes of her shell were… separate, almost. Though they were overall smooth and sloping into each other, there was a definitive gap between each one, and already I could imagine the various plants her schema spoke of rooting between them, creating a sprawling paradise over her back. Alongside the new and fascinating strands of life I was ever so excited for. Lovely questions like this were why I was so invested in my dungeon.

So I watched her stand, the waters of the lagoon splashing overhead. But where she had before been floundering and forced to walk across the bottom, now there was an understanding in her eyes as she looked at the currents around her. She knew what they were and how to work with them.

She kicked off, her flippers stirring up swirls of pure white sand, and breached the surface of the lagoon. Immediately, my quartz-light dappled over her back, sending the emerald scutes gleaming, and her chest swelled like a bellows as she inhaled. No plants on her back yet, and indeed where she had evolved, there were twisted brown stems of the lichen she’d left behind; but new ones would come soon, I knew. And I couldn’t wait.

Still a touch awkward in the way all evolving creatures were, she started to circle around the lagoon, flippers cutting rhythmically through the water as she learned how to keep enough air in her lungs to make sure she was floating at the top. The salinity helped buoy her, of course, but there was always going to be a learning curve for a four hundred pound creature learning how to swim when she’d only ever walked before.

She’d figure it out.

I darted after her with a bouncing point of awareness, perched above her head so I could marvel at the Hungering Reefs like she did; the pure white beaches catching the quartz-light like a reflection of the sun itself, the tossing crystal blue waves, the towering cloudsire palms and vampiric mangroves. As she traveled, I gathered points of mana and kicked up more wonders for her; more schools of prismatic dartfish, spiraling between red to silver to deep indigo; silver kraits twining through the colourless fans of capturing coral; greater crabs snapping and scuttling over the barrier-reefs. A paradise beyond all others.

No, I wasn’t biased.

I split away to let her figure things out by herself and spiraled out to the wider floor, nosing into every crack and cranny—objectively, I should have been focusing on the Jungle Labyrinth and Skylands to finish them up, to let them claim their godly boon and become a greater threat for the invaders I knew were coming, but, well. Coral reefs. How could I be expected to focus on anything else?

Especially as it was about to get more crowded here.

Because, after a long, harrowed journey made worse by Rihsu’s stubborn refusal to take any easy outs like she was testing if Chieftess and the other kobolds could withstand the struggle—they did, of course—and the kobold tribe’s inability to do anything even vaguely resembling swimming, they had made it.

Food stores depleted, gone from all the world they had ever known—but now they were here in the Hungering Reefs.

I crouched overhead. Their mouths fell open, golden eyes going wide; even the first room of this floor was the size of the entirety of the Drowned Forest, and that was without the entrance in the back they could see. They had never known such freedom, such gleaming excellence within a world to conquer.

Just, you know. As soon as they figured out how to get there.

Because while they were currently standing on a dazzling beach some several hundred feet across, everything else was water. Sure, in the second room they’d have their atoll, with its cavernous den and ample supply of wood for the taking, but that was it. They would need to figure out how to venture into the brilliance of water.

As if to show them all they were missing, Rihsu hardly waited a second before diving in—her deep maroon scales melded with the blue of the water as her finned tail lashed, propelling her forward with an arrow’s speed. Droplets kicked high and sparkled in a truly picturesque scene as she darted around the beach, webbed claws pulling her in a twisting, snaking pattern before she slowed, popping her head out to stare directly at Chieftess.

Hells if that wasn’t a fantastic challenge.

Chieftess narrowed her own amber-gold pair in response, forked tongue flicking out. The rest of her kobolds spread out behind her, eyeing the water with trepidation; they’d made it through the Underlake with a great deal of struggling and bitching and waterlogged supplies, and didn’t look eager to complete it again.

Bloody fire-drake descendants. A plague across Aiqith.

Rihsu briefly disappeared under the water, tail kicking up a spray of water; all her time with Seros had trained her well and when she emerged a second later, there was one half of a prismatic dartfish between her fangs, blood billowing around her. She, almost delicately, swallowed the rest of the fish.

Chieftess’ eyes narrowed.

She warbled a command, tail lashing at the backs of her legs. Three of the kobold hunters came forward, the most lithe of the group, and padded into the water—not diving like Rihsu had done, but creeping forward until they stood on the very edge of the barrier-reef, the water splashing up to their waists. It was cooler than the Underlake, due to being fed directly by the cove, but with all the mana and quartz-light around it was still plenty warm for the coldblooded creatures.

One of the kobold hunters inhaled, hissing something that might have been a prayer, and then slipped into the water.

He was a floundering, incapable thing, which both made me smug and irritated, and Rihsu churred something mocking as she swam around him. The other two followed in, but without webbing on their claws or tail, their paddling only carried them with awkward little strokes.

But when they didn’t immediately die, although some roughwater sharks were eyeing their struggling forms with interest, Chieftess barked another command and the rest of the kobolds joined them in the water.

The shamans were surrounded on all sides by warriors, protection and support, which they needed as their heavy feathers grew waterlogged and weighed them even more down. Chieftess’ tail lashed as she dove in, her large form spiraling in awkward strokes as she pushed herself up to the surface, glaring at Rihsu as best she could past the splashing water.

Rihsu, for her part, just dove back underneath and started swimming to the second room.

The other kobolds followed her, me bobbing overhead on dozens of points of awareness because there wasn’t a chance I was missing this—actually, side thought, I sent a quick command to Seros and another wandering soul in the Jungle Labyrinth—and sent a soothing pulse of mana to the other creatures in the floor to keep them docile. While I wouldn’t be pampering these kobolds, not when they hadn’t earned it, I did want them to at least reach their new home before they started dying.

Two thousand feet they swam across, clinging to the far walls if they ever needed a break—even in their newly evolved forms, they were creatures of land, and swimming was an entirely new form of exhaustion—as Rihsu swam unbothered before them. Slowly, the room narrowed into the chokepoint I’d made, only twenty feet across; the evolved kobold tribe floundered their way through and then were promptly slapped in the face with the glory of the second room.

Dozens of colours with the prismatic dartfish, gleaming swathes of coral, diamond-bright islands of sand. I’d seen it a hundred times—hells, I’d made it—and still my mana purred with delight. A glory above glories.

Chieftess’ eyes, when she was able to hold herself stable for long enough, immediately snapped to the lagoon. With renewed determination, she led her tribe over to it, the shamans still protected and warriors doing their best to look intimidating on the outskirts. They weren’t, to be very clear, but at least they tried.

I tightened my hold on the roughwater sharks and distracted the fledgling sea serpent with a school of soon-to-die silverheads in the third room. They needed at least a chance to lose their fire-drake ancestry before they were killed.

This room was much larger than the last and it wasn’t like the kobolds had regained any stamina, so once again they hugged to the walls as they clambered across, marveling at the new wonder they found themselves in. Chieftess led the charge, good leader as she was, and her claws left shallow grooves in the limestone as she hauled herself along. Powerful thing, in truth. She and Rihsu were the same height, Rihsu having more strength and Chieftess more intelligence. Interesting foils to each other, especially as Rihsu was likely to evolve again soon.

But finally, after long enough some of the kobolds were sagging in the water, Chieftess got her claws into the sand of the atoll and hauled herself up.

She stood and shook, water droplets flying off, and then helped the rest of her tribe up; any supplies they’d brought were well and truly ruined now if the Underlake hadn’t already done so, but that was fine. They would need to figure out waterproof methods here.

Their new home.

The entrance to the den was in the back, tall and ringed with stalactites; twin mangroves stood on either side, framing it with their scarlet bark and thorns, and a cluster of quartz-light gleamed overhead. An immediate step up from their Drowned Forest lodgings in more than just size. I couldn’t wait to see them explore it.

Oh! Actually—I dug into my core for an untouched schema, one perfect for the mangroves scattered around the edges of the atoll and before the entrance. Another prize within the thorned branches of the mangrove, a treat to make them all the more tempting.

The funnel gourd.

With a curl of mana, vines burst between the pure white leaves, twisting things of bright green with serrated leaves; I twined them over the entire mangrove structure, blending plants together until they were all knotted around each other, grounding roots creeping down the thorned trunk to dig into the sandy soil. Another one I had to change to be more salt tolerant, but it’d be fine. They’d adapt or they’d die.

Another point of mana pushed into them and they swelled, pushing out delicate yellow flowers that quickly ripened to fruit; the gourds bloomed wide and heavy, orange base lined with crimson stripes, weighing down the vines so they hung at the perfect appetizing height. Where the stem met the gourd proper, an opening emerged, widening as the flesh beneath dried until a cavernous maw lined the top of the gourd, dark within.

Almost like a pitcher plant, but as a hard-shelled gourd. Fascinating.

With the obvious influx of my mana, the kobolds all stared at the entrance, huddled close together. Rihsu didn’t emerge from the water, swimming around the edge of the barrier-reef, carefully avoiding the spreading roots of the mangroves. Chieftess hissed something, claws flicking, before throwing back her shoulders and marching into the den.

Awe filled her. As it should.

I had never been one much for dens, considering I was far too large for one as a sea-drake and my hoard looked best when natural sunlight struck through the water to gleam against its silver and artefacts, but this was as good as I could make it. A sprawling first room, broadening out from a narrow entrance to force a chokepoint if needed, with freshwater streams trickling to shallow pools and divots in the ground for fires. Although fires would be limited, if I had to guess—while I had filled the atoll with mangroves and palms, that was still less than had been in the Drowned Forest, and available branches were more likely to be waterlogged and unusable. Hm. Maybe I should plant some rubies for the kobold shamans to experiment with.

But past the first room arched two halls; in one was a row of individual dens, beds softened with green algae and pale algae-light, ending in a much larger room for the kobolds that still preferred to sleep in an enormous pile, wrapped around each other for security and comfort.

Of course, separate from the others were two much larger rooms with their own freshwater streams and sprawling beds. Chieftess and Nicau deserved better than the commoners.

The other hall led to a series of storage chambers, as cold and dry as I could make them, stony shelves extending outward and algae-lined holes beneath. Most for food, of course, but also a few for treasures—if they were going to be proper kobolds that served dragons, they needed to begin collecting things for their hoard.

Or. My hoard? Technically, they would be taking things that were already mine and putting them in another corner that was also mine.

It could be a confusing world, at times.

From the information in their schema and what I’d learned from them so far, this was exactly what they needed, built both for their current strength and all they needed to grow. And as Chieftess wandered in, amber-gold eyes wide, I knew she recognized that. Knew what lovely thing I was allowing her to use.

The other kobolds piled in, and all their evolved maturity tumbled off as they skittered around like excitable hatchlings, marveling at how they could have individual rooms if they wanted, drinking the freshwater, rolling in the green algae beds. They would need food soon, as well as organization and planning, but for now, Chieftess let her tribe play around with their new home.

They would be a driving force in this floor, I knew. While my other creatures filled the majority and the fledgling sea serpent was the powerhouse when Seros wasn’t here, it would be the kobolds that would shape the floor. Their hunting patrols, their traps, their coordination—as annoyed as I was that the gods protected sapient schemas from me, I could understand why. They were devastatingly powerful.

Which was why I had collected my own, and now they would dominate the Hungering Reefs.

Alongside the other arrival.

In the entrance, Seros emerged onto the beach, tail swishing to kick up a swirl of sand. Rihsu had been stubborn and led the other kobolds through complicated routes—Seros moved with a haste and speed befitting the first of my Named. By the time the tribe entered the atoll, Seros had already brought Nicau to the sixth floor.

Nicau, who was staring with open-mouthed awe over the Hungering Reefs, exhaustion melting away in face of this wonder of wonders; as he should. I’d worked too hard for the little human not to be starstruck.

My ego well stroked, I peppered him with points of awareness, including one for the sheer purpose of glaring at the shadowthief rat on his shoulder. The parrot, after a disapproving squawk at the sand Seros kicked up—did she not fear death? Seros could sneeze and kill her—was shifting her wings, preparing to take off into this new floor. She was a touch smaller than the greater pigeons but with better maneuverability, and she looked like she would be sticking with Nicau for most of the time. A high chance she’d survive, then.

For all that Chieftess’ evolution had prepared her for managing her tribe in such a different environment, Nicau would be a welcome addition to things. He could teach them to swim and hunt, alongside traps more designed for sandy shores. And he could–

Hm.

One problem.

While I was fine with letting the kobolds figure out how to get to the atoll on their own, Nicau looked exhausted enough I wasn’t positive he would survive it—and he had a rat and parrot on his shoulder. Not ideal swimming conditions.

Sometimes my floors could be a touch too efficient.

I stared at him, mana coiling around in anticipation. His Communer blessing would do nothing for this, and neither of his two companions had anything for it; and, well. I needed him at that atoll, and I had too much of my Otherworld mana attached to him to just risk the chance of him drowning before he got there.

Nicau sensed my attention on him, stiffening as he looked around—bags were heavy under his eyes, coat limp around his shoulders. A weak breeze could put him six feet under.

So.

To Seros, I pushed through our connection, echoing it to Seros as well. Ride to the den.

Nicau, if it were possible, stiffened even more. Two very conflicting things warred within him, visible even without our soul’s connection—did he want to obey me, or did he want to get on the back of a dragon?

Draconic monitor. Semantics.

For his part, Seros didn’t look much more pleased at the idea—first the vampiric dryad’s Ancestral Tree, now a human—but I sent a few more flurried thoughts about the importance of it. He sighed, a deep rumble that echoed through his chest like a growl, and twisted his neck to look at Nicau. Who gulped.

There was a pained acceptance in Seros’ thoughts, alongside something that bordered on a command. I needed to find a different way for Nicau to traverse the floors easily that did not require Seros to play as guide or steed.

I fervently agreed.

“Ah, o’ dungeon,” Nicau began, visibly curling in on himself. “Surely, I could, ah, rest here? For tonight? I wouldn’t want to. To inconvenience you.”

Staying is an inconvenience, I told him.

Nicau wilted. With the look of one on his way to the gallows, he faced Seros, shoulders hunched in and head bowed. “Mighty dragon,” he said, hardly more than a murmur. “If I were– would you allow–”

Seros’ lantern-esque eyes flashed. Around the beach, water trembled, hydrokinesis tugging up strands of mist and kicking up white-capped waves—but then he rumbled, low in his throat, and turned.

Nicau meekly padded forward. The shadowthief rat hooked her little claws into the collar of his coat, looking rightly terrified at the situation, while the parrot hardly seemed to understand what was wrong about it all. With slow, hesitant movements, Nicau set one boot on Seros’ haunch and clambered on top.

For all Seros was twenty-five feet long, he was also rather lithe, and no part of him was made to be ridden. Nicau ended up in an awkward half-crouch to avoid Seros’ silver spines from jabbing somewhere unpleasant, looking thoroughly miserably about his situation, keeping his hands tucked close to his chest so he didn’t have to touch Seros more than necessary.

From our connection, I could tell that Seros was pleased by his fear, even if he rather wished this scenario had never happened at all.

But with that, Seros slipped into the water, waves dying down and a current surging beneath his claws to carry them quickly. He lashed his tail only instead of using his limbs to keep Nicau steady, head held forward so he didn’t gore the boy’s face on his horns—conscientious like that. Confusing, actually, since I didn’t know where he’d gotten it from—I certainly wouldn’t have cared when I was a sea-drake. Nicau was lucky Seros was who he was.

The draconic monitor swam quickly, dipping through the first room and emerging into the second; Nicau’s mouth fell upon anew as he beheld the wonder of this room, all the trees and atoll and lagoon, then fell further when he saw the distant red forms of the kobolds and understood that this was where he now resided.

The second room only. He would not be going to the third room, where my core was—for all he was sworn to me, I was not about to trust a human so lightly.

Seros darted through the water, mist scattering off his scales and the path smooth as ice before him; kobolds on the beach froze, warbling something, more poking their head from the den. They all watched the approach with wide eyes. Rihsu, still swimming, froze so badly she dipped below the water.

Well. If it hadn’t already been high, Nicau’s reputation amongst the kobolds had likely exploded—though they hadn’t sworn to Seros like Rihsu, they still saw him as draconic, only a few steps below me as their Voice. So for Nicau to come in riding him–

He hadn’t earned this. Seros barely restrained his urge to drag Nicau to the bottom of the Reef.

Instead, he dug his claws into the sand and climbed out, tail flicking and head curling to stare at all of the kobolds. They obediently lowered their gaze, even Chieftess.

Nicau made a sorry little squeak as he all but threw himself off Seros, the parrot squawking with annoyance in his ear. He hopped a few steps away, turning back and bowing deeply to Seros, eyes closed. “Thank you, mighty Seros.”

For his part, Seros just rumbled, eyes narrowed.

Nicau got the hint and backed away, entering the cluster of kobolds. They warbled at him and he warbled back, smiling tiredly at their excitement. Chieftess strode forward after another glance to Seros, bumping her forehead against his—Nicau winced from the impact with her scales—and hissing a list of questions that he responded to with their patentedly garbled language that was still right on the cusp of evolving into something understandable. I could have poked into Nicau’s thoughts and decoded things, but, well.

They were kobolds. It wasn’t going to be that interesting.

Their plans, however, were—Nicau being here meant they could move forward with their full strength, especially as Nicau explained how he knew about living near the water’s edge. I dipped into Chieftess’ head out of vague curiosity.

Already, she was beginning to make plans—finding dead branches on the mangroves to harvest, cataloging which creatures here they could eat, figuring out how to hunt in the lagoon. From poking deeper, I could see other thoughts—finding a new staff for herself after she’d given the last one to the new leader of the kobold tribe back in the Drowned Forest, finding a way to begin training the shamans in magic, maybe getting them chunks of capturing coral, exploring the first and third rooms for potential smaller dens as offposts. She was taking to this vastly expanded space with all the determination from her evolution, and frankly, I couldn’t wait to see what she did.

Especially as she’d have to be swimming for most of it.

Soon those garish red scales would disappear between gleaming blue-green, and that would be a plenty good reward for all the work I’d put into making them strong.

But for now, the kobolds settled into their new home, marveling at the wonders and making their plans. Everything would change, but they would thrive here, and be comfortable enough to grow.

Hm.

A little too comfortable, actually. As much as my dungeon was a paradise, it wasn’t a mere swim through the shallows.

I nudged my connection with Seros, sending him an image of the fledgling sea serpent snapping his way through the silverhead school, gnawing at the bit for a fight; Seros perked up, slipping back into the water.

And, with a brush of his burgeoning gravitas, Rihsu immediately swam after him. Though they’d lost their original sparring partner of the sarco, the sea serpent was a more than good alternative.

In a surge of hydrokinesis-aided currents, both of them disappeared from the second room into the third—hardly a heartbeat later, something broke with a thundering crash, waves whipping high and thrashing as the sea serpent eagerly engaged his new foes.

The kobold tribe all stiffened, flashing wary eyes towards the far walls. Even Chieftess tightened her claws. My points of awareness pranced between them with a smug curl of mana.

For all the lagoon was safer, it wasn’t safe. Nothing in my halls was.

It would do them well to remember that.

Chieftess seemed to sense Nicau’s exhaustion and chittered something at him, gesturing back into the den. He nodded, and then warbled something, pointing to the parrot and rat. Clearing them off the menu, judging by the other kobolds’ disappointed barks. Typical. At least he was obeying my order to keep them alive.

There was a distant roar as the sea serpent broke through the surface of the water, snapping and snarling as Rihsu battered her claws against his side before his tail lashed her away.

As one, the kobolds shivered.

I settled in, my mana curling around me with a pleased purr. Life was good.

–

He stared at the stone before him.

It loomed apart from everything surrounding it, a gleam of silver-white amidst the grey; it had none of the age and wear, no notches or scars carved through its surface. Smooth and shining.

Unnatural.

Created.

After so long, after so achingly, painfully long that his memories had been reduced to mere fractures of nostalgia and easier times, Akkyst was home.

And there were others with him.

The journey had worn at them all; blood matted through his fur, burns from a magma-salamander lacing up his side, something deep within his back leg that ached when he rested too much weight on it. They’d lost two more Magelords, one to the injury-heat that took her despite all the mana Bylk could spare for healing, another to a boulder-beast hidden in the shadows of a rock shelf. Weary and weak, food stores near empty, far from home with nothing resembling protection.

But the jewels hanging from Bylk’s ears were refilling with mana, bright and shining, and the air around them was changing; something heavy and calling surrounding them past the pressing darkness. More and more creatures Akkyst had to fight, all headed in the same direction—something was summoning them in the deep, filling them with a hunger regular mountains didn’t provide. Something powerful.

The Growth.

Here, close as they were, he could almost feel it; a buzz scrapping the edges of his thoughts, a song deep within that answered in tune to a melody he couldn’t quite hear. There was powerful magic here, well beyond what he remembered, though he had been young and unknowing then—but judging by how the Magelords whispered amongst themselves, eyes wide, and even Bylk marveled at the stone before them, it was more than they had expected.

The Growth was a parasite, eating through the mountains and consuming territory that couldn’t be reclaimed—but it was also a wellspring, providing power found nowhere else. Both at once, contradictory as it was.

And it was also free. The War Horde knew about it, but they avoided it, at least during the time Akkyst had been enslaved to them. The Magelords would escape their looming shadow here, wouldn’t have to worry about rebuilding their home only for it to fall again; could have life again.

Akkyst as well.

Beyond that door was his home, with its whitecap mushrooms and soft algae beds and fresh water. In comparison to the War Horde, a paradise—in comparison to the Magelords, something distant, almost forgotten. He only knew it through what he hadn’t had—no war, no struggles, no pain.

But also no knowledge.

For all that his thoughts ran smooth and fast through his head, he didn’t think he knew enough to decide whether that bargain had been worth it.

He swiveled his head, fixing his one eye on Bylk—the goblin was staring up at the stone, blue-black skin reflecting the light from Akkyst’s fur dimly. His ears were drawn back, gems clinking against each other, eyes shrewd.

Four dozen in number, and a sorry lot overall. Beyond the stone, there was a power fierce enough to rattle in his chest.

“The Growth, eh?” Bylk finally said, gravelly voice echoing in the sprawling cavern. The drip of water off distant stalactites filled the space between his words. “Any hope it’ll be as acceptin’ as you?”

There was weariness in his face as he spoke. They’d run so long, his people fractured and splintered to the remains they had now—in essence, this was their last choice. If it failed, they had no other way out.

Akkyst regarded the stone.

If it had changed, then so had he; it might not have the same peace and tranquility he remembered, but he was not the same bear that required such comforts. If it came to a fight to give the Magelords the home they deserved, then he would do it. The stalking jaguar and bladehawk at his side, Bylk’s spells empowered by the mana heavy in the air—they were not defenseless.

“Home,” he declared, rumbling low in his throat. The light off his silver fur redoubled—though he didn’t know how he did it, sometimes it just happened, it was very irritating that he had chosen knowledge upon his evolution but somehow ended up with even less knowledge about himself in the process—as he shook himself, rising back to his full towering height. “Home for us all.”

Bylk nodded. Behind him, the Magelords gathered, light springing to the tips of their fingers as they readied themselves. The jaguar swished her feather-tipped tail, ears flicking forward; the bladehawk hopped with a quick flap of his wings to land on Akkyst’s broad back, beak clacking together.

Akkyst shook his head, the torn flap of his ruined ear and the blackness where vision had once been; he faced the stone and the cavernous maw he knew was around the corner, where their salvation was.

It was time to return home.