025 Endrala will be saved
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The southern continent of Geothae was controlled by Garta Knozak, Mecromancer Twenty-Two. She had established the colony of Sanctuary to get away from the politics and infighting of the other colonies on the warmer continents. Here she ran a thriving business of fishing and growing mecrotech crystals with minerals mined in the area.

Garta had a round face and olive skin. At a meter and a half high, in boots, she was quite tall for a guanting. She trudged the marked trail up the mountain. Raven was not going to be happy, but someone had to come.

The Steel Raven sat in her usual spot. Klak appeared and wandered over to Garta. The familiar female voice came from the drone. “You are not supposed to be here.” The Steel Raven never spoke, and you only ever saw her wings. That is how it had been for all memory.

Garta sighed. “The law requires two mecromancers. It has been difficult finding anyone to come here since you attacked Ti’Rask.”

“Find, someone, else. Not you.” The female voice from the drone said.

“This is my territory. I can be here.” Garta said.

“That was the agreement. I escort. You stay away. I don’t need assistance.”

“The law says two mecromancers.”

“Find. Someone. Else.”

“Some of my people have died trying to keep to your immovable schedule.”

“Maybe they were meant to die.”

“You are not the arbiter of fate. You do not decide who lives and who dies.”

“I did what I could for all of them.”

“Dammit Raven! Endrala is lost. Why do you waste your time here? Give up already.”

“Are we going to debate the sunken cost fallacy again?”

“I am tempted to beat some sense into you.”

“Do you wish to challenge me?”

“What if I am?”

“You will perish.” The ground around Garta exploded into motion as a cloud of Raven’s nails appeared from the snow.

Garta groaned to herself then said, “How many times will we go in circles on this?”

“As many as necessary.”

“I am worried about you.”

“I am fine.”

“How many total days have you wasted waiting up here?”

“Not enough.”

“Can you drop the arsenal? I don’t want to fight you.”

Raven’s nails fell to the ground, clattering. “You will not die today.”

The nails were just as much a threat on the ground as in the air. But Garta still felt better to have them not pointed at her head. “So you know when I will die. Or when I should die?”

“It is confusing with you.”

“A cryptic non-answer, like normal.” Garta groaned. “That’s helpful. I guess you can’t tell me anything.”

“I do not control the visions. Do what you think is right and I will do the same. Hopefully, we can see Endrala freed together, friend.”

“Friend? Haven’t heard you talk like that in ages. Has something changed?”

“Nothing specific.”

“Another vision?”

“I heard there was another search for the Cradle. Did they find anything?”

Is she avoiding the question or is she that lost in time? Garta shook her head. “No they didn’t. And that was over a century ago. Most theories have it falling into the gas giant. I tend to agree with them”

“That planet retains the scar of the harvesting.”

“That could just as easily be the result of the Cradle’s destruction.”

“The Cradle will be found. Endrala will be saved.”

“Who will wear the Cradle? Who will wear the other mecromails in it? How will we even get it back to Endrala?”

“I don’t know all the answers. That is why I wait. Will you promise to send someone else from now on?”

“The only one willing to come is Morzrikk. You told me to never let him come. So choose. Me or Morzrikk.”

“Anyone but you.”

“I feel the love… friend.” Garta said, dripping with sarcasm.

“I am telling you, because you are my friend.”

“You can be a colossal pain in the…” A shadow passed over her. In her debate with the voice from the drone she had missed Raven approaching. Her wings now blocked out the sunrise.

“It has been nice talking to you, friend. Please do not return.” The voice from the drone said. Then the Raven leapt off the cliff. Klak followed.

Garta shook her head. She had a better chance of talking a planet out of orbit than convincing Raven to ignore a vision.

 

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