I should have learned my lesson about quick solutions by now. 

 

The ‘Fleshspeakers’ and the ‘Overseers’ didn’t automatically gain unrestricted access to peer through the memories of their victims at will. Instead, their default setting, so to speak, was to gain a complete and irreversible hold over the body of any living creature they touched, then reshape it at their leisure. 

 

They could rip away memories - they were quite proficient on a nearly instinctive level - however, it always required a conscious effort from their part, a physical contact between the ‘Fleshspeaker’ and the ‘drone’-their claws sunk into the flesh, their power rewiring the brain so they could extract whatever they wished. 

 

My original idea of simply lining up all the captured and ‘zombified’ humans and going through them one by one had proven to be more practical than I originally gave it credit for. 

 

Originally, I thought of it as a method to prevent further distractions, allowing me to piece together the details without my attention sliding away, and avoid all the incoherent rambling, but that wasn't the case. 

 

It turned into a methodical process in which my chiropteran companions processed their new meat puppets one by one, stepping on them, rewiring them, and answering the questions I had in mind. 

 

Apparently, this wasn't usual for them, and taking a more collected, systematic approach was as much for their sake as it was for mine. 

 

Their usual approach was, just like everything else my girls did, a work of passion, an organised chaos of countless minds united for a single purpose, devoid of strife.

 

The ‘Fleshspeakers’ did what they had to because they could. 

 

Occasionally, they wanted  information, like when they tried to translate the human language, or when they wondered about the way to work the wood to continue  construction, or looked for answers I sought, but most of the time, a good deal of knowledge was lost while repurposing the flesh. Other revelations were made by accident. 

 

The ‘brain-bug’ was, in fact, purposefully made, a translator abomination, born of the desire to never bother with interrogating the ‘zombie brains’ when they wanted, or needed, to speak. 

 

Angela and a few ‘Fleshspeakers’ even divulged how they wanted to shape the translator creatures from the flesh to be worn as an accessory.

 

It made me wonder if Angela’s dress was sentient. It certainly was alive…

 

Helpless ‘zombies’ of the former pirates, however, were not processed, not catalogued, and gathering the information required effort, one I wouldn’t witness if I wasn’t overly interested in approaching the negotiation with all the information I could.

 

A few directions had to be given, lest my bats would slip into their usual routine of creating the mutated crabs, hound sized roaches, or biological wasp launchers. The girls didn’t protest, but alas, it was still a time-consuming process. 

 

We needed to go through one after another after another, and unfortunately, the human brain was not an encyclopaedia we could browse for answers. 

 

I didn’t account for people knowing very little or nothing at all.

 

In fact, many of the humans didn’t know who they worked for, and what memories could be dug out contradicted each other.

 

It confused me a little at first. The names I didn’t recognize, the references I didn’t get, even the damn symbols on the breastplates didn’t mean ‘Tokomura’ in English. 

 

Other names were given, names of places, names of clans. Some I remembered, others I quickly forgot, uncertain of the role they played in the events as the number of contradictions mounted. 

 

This took a while to piece together, but there wasn’t any grand plan, any conspiracy. Those people fought on behalf of opposing sides in some overseas conflict. Their armour still bore  the heraldry of their last employer, but they ultimately served in exchange for the spoils of war. There were professionals out there, bound by blood and honour, but the men we found on the ships were mercenaries who fought to get paid. 

 

Those with armour were, apparently, the better off, and had fought meaningful battles to ‘earn’ the funds for their equipment. The rest were dirt poor. While some were sailors, verging on pirates, the others were desperate men from a coastal village avoiding starvation by joining the massive raid on… 

 

… this kingdom, basically. 

 

I found it somewhat ironic that the people who had survived numerous battles on a distant continent were soundly defeated in their first here, then turned into husks. Their decision to attack us certainly hadn’t worked out. 

 

Names weren’t my strong suit. Most of the people captured and enthralled by the ‘Fleshspeakers’ didn’t have any knowledge of the world around them, and the few names they did find did‌n’t paint any coherent image I could use. 

 

Perhaps this was why the ‘Fleshspeakers’ didn’t bother with most of their ‘drones’. 

In most cases, I simply asked questions, and either Angela or one of her sisters simply answered with “don’t know” as the brains and minds they were perusing were too ignorant.

 

Even the ones who had armour - mercenaries - knew only the bare necessities. One of the ‘zombified’, however, must have been a ship captain, as he knew something. 

 

I didn’t bother to ask who the man was before his fatal encounter with the ‘Fleshspeakers’’ claws, but his brain held a plethora of information. 

 

Out there, somewhere beyond the sea to the west, was a land embroiled in a bloody civil war, an ongoing conflict that had lasted longer than our current ‘visitors’ had been alive.

 

The ‘Tokomura’ was apparently dead, the last would-be unifier that managed to hold on to the throne for a few years before he was assassinated. His death ignited another wave of infighting, leaving the country in chaos. 

 

The ‘captain’ remembered three different emperors in the last three years, a series of names I wouldn't be forced to memorise.

 

With the country broken into a dozen different petty domains, each controlled by a different clan, and different nobles, it was no wonder most people didn’t know who was in charge. 

 

This was, without a doubt, a period of great strife, and our chances of establishing any relations with any country overseas were practically nil, since their government had already collapsed, and individual fiefdoms turned back to the default state of the competing warlords. 

 

This was frustratingly pointless. The only higher authority was the dragon ‘gods’ who for a change, had no involvement.

 

In fact, our recent predicament, the pirate raid, was the hare-brained scheme of a man named Takeshi, held together only by promises. 

 

Lots and lots of promises. 

 

With the sun nearly at its zenith, there was no point in pushing this further once it became painfully obvious that these men didn’t answer to any central authority or figurehead.

 

Even this Takeshi didn’t have much control. He didn’t hold the title. For all the vague memories about clans and their holdings, he didn’t even seem to have a family name. 

 

A ship, one of them at least, may have been his, but his control over the fleet was dubious. We couldn’t send  threats to his superiors, for he answered to no one, and his followers weren't exactly his. 

 

They were only there, together in the fleet of fourteen ships, because a smooth talking man convinced them that if they went with him, they would be first to the loot pile because the local army was busy fighting someone else. 

 

They didn’t know we were there. No memories of dragons, no priestesses with their magical powers, just pure, simple greed. 

 

What was worse, however, was that it meant very little. More would try. More ships would come. It was only a matter of how many of their sea-going ships could be spared for the journey, or survived their constant infighting.

 

Logically thought, there must have been quite a few vessels left, if a single pirate could amass a small fleet of his own in a couple of days, but that was all we could piece together. 

 

Nevertheless, a conversation with the man himself had to wait. Should  more pirates, more raiders, arrive, it was abundantly clear that they would do so independently,largely ignorant of what had happened to the first wave. 

 

“Do we know this man we captured is the Takeshi guy?” I asked. 

 

At least I could remember that name. I saw the pattern too, but unfortunately there was no historical parallel to draw from Earth's history, as the era of the warring states wasn’t - as far I could remember - as turbulent as this world’s. They certainly didn’t change the rulers as often, as far as I knew. 

 

“So, is there a face to match? You could access the memories, and they must remember the guy who promised them easy money.” 

 

“Master?” Angela chirped. An ordinary ‘Fleshspeaker’ echoed her, then the two replied in unison with a more affirmative: 

 

“For Master!” 

 

They did. They, of course, also had ideas, and I, for a while, thought it might be for the best to have one of the normal conversation capable individuals close. A telepathic link, happily murmuring at the back of my head, wasn’t as good as one might think.

 

I looked at the bat-girl, and she cheered up, her red eyes flashing. 

 

Angela was adorable, with her perky ears and cute muzzle, but to know a ‘Fleshspeaker’ or ‘Overseer’ was to know the idea of the saturation bombardment by the fungus-infested hornets.  

 

“You should stop getting distracted.” I said, while I thought I should follow my advice as well. 

 

“For … Master?” 

 

I wondered whether their ‘mind’ attributes made them easier to understand, but harder to truly comprehend, considering how easily their thoughts wandered towards entirely alien ways. 

 

Looking for assurance, I glanced at Narita instead. 

 

The ‘arcane’ infusion made her even more gorgeous, but I immediately chastised myself for yet another distraction. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master. We have the human-thing.” She said, “Ari is talking with the human-thing.” 

 

“Is she?” Her task was to find the volunteers, to smooth over our relationship with the humans, not necessarily to negotiate with the potential attackers, but thinking of it briefly, it could be for the best. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” 

 

Would Ari threaten the pirates? 

 

Recruit them? 

 

I didn’t specify where the recruits should come from. 

 

Trying to recruit from the ranks of the enemy was a dangerous proposition, since those would be the first to betray us, but then I remembered that the vast majority of those people were mercenaries, a profession known for changing loyalties. 

 

Asking mercenaries to change sides wasn’t unusual…

 

I hadn’t thought of it that way. 

 

It was very business-as-usual for them, wasn’t it? 

 

Our ‘crazy girl’ was brilliant, and not quite insane. We needed the sailors to run the ships, to compensate for our deficiencies, and this was, by any means, the fastest. 

 

“Very well, Ari seems to….” 

 

We merely need to make sure that we wouldn’t enhance those who would switch sides again in the future, but money … 

 

I didn’t care about money. 

 

As I began to address Narita, my words were stopped throat by another notification. A cloud of ruby fog appeared from nowhere and condensed into a collection of ‘Fleshspeakers’, who greeted me in unison. 

 

Skill “Messengers of the Ever-Living Horde Lvl.24” gained.

I shook my head to make the window disappear. 

 

“What happened?” 

 

“For Master!” They all squeaked, and I once more looked to  Narita for an answer.

“Human-things tried to escape, Master,” she said. “My cousins stopped them.” 

 

“Which ones? The not-zombified pirates?” 

 

I wasn’t particularly keen on forcing the villagers to stay. We didn't need their labour, but the prisoners were another matter. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master.” Narita nodded, “Captive ones, send south.” 

 

Those I couldn’t afford running. I should draw the line at fighters. 

 

“They could be stunned…” 

 

Maybe, I thought, it would be better to offer them a job, and do it in no uncertain terms, apply to the sell-sword mentality before they run and slip information to our enemies. 

 

“Better yet, ask Ari to speak with them. They could work their penance for us.” 

 

I suggested.

 

“We could pay them with a share of the plunder they would normally fight for. Any currency, coin and silver, will be divided between them. We would get to pick from weapons, armour and other goods. And we would provide food for the duration of the contract. Actually, it is a better deal than any prisoner would get.”

 

I waved my hand in the carry-on gesture. It doesn’t quite matter if there were other captains, other ringleaders, like Takeshi. Even if they wouldn’t come forward, we could deal with their crews. 

 

“If they don’t agree, they would end up in the wasp-launcher integrated into a living dress…” 

 

“For Master!” The ‘Fleshspeakers’ seemed to like the idea. 

 

Which brought me to the question of the sentience of Angela’s dress. As the bat girl spread her enormous wings, the living outfit moved as if to scratch her. I decided to not think about it. 

 

“...or executed. We are much more lenient than the local government, considering the Viceroy wanted them boiled alive as a punishment for piracy.” 

 

It doesn’t quite solve the issue of future conflict as I had originally intended, but it could provide a template on how to deal with future freelance raiders. 

 

“Yes-yes, Master. Ari will tell them.” Narita answered without a pause, as the few ‘Fleshspeaker’ found open space and launched themselves into the air, excited, chirping happily, new minds filled with the fresh ideas to inflict upon the world. 

 

“Excellent…” I sighed. 

 

The sun would be setting soon enough, and there was no point in rushing the conversation I originally planned, especially if it wouldn’t solve any problem. 

 

I could as well delegate the hiring matters too, namely to Ari, the only human in our ranks to show the benefits of mutual cooperation. 

 

There was the  matter of acceptable targets for raids, which we didn’t have, as I explicitly banned my own girls from performing them, but it was a worry for the future. 

 

I could, in fact, send those people on a mission back to their homeland - if they desert once there, it wouldn’t matter, as long as they got a few of my felines across the sea safely.

 

“...we could let them think we want to hit one clan in their homeland in retaliation, I suppose. We could blame one of the three we saw the heraldry of.” I thought aloud, “That way, we wouldn’t have to specify the target, I guess.” 

 

This way, the moment they could warn their countrymen, it would be already too late. 

 

“Master?” 

 

Last gaze towards the skies, and I was done with this - for today, at least.

 

“The surviving pirates and their leaders can rethink their life decisions overnight.” I decided, aloud.Narita answered with her usual “Yes-yes, Master!” 

 

Talking with this pirate leader personally, this Takeshi, was inconsequential for the betterment of our … pack? Horde? Family? 

 

Thinking of family, I looked around, missing Miwah. Tama was there, surrounded by the few normal ‘Purifiers’. 

 

She looked motherly, surrounded by them, even though they were technically siblings of sorts, not daughters. 

 

The vixen smirked at me, sensing my thoughts, while her little sisters giggled girlishly, but this time, she avoided teasing me. She certainly thought of doing so, though, without a doubt.

 

“Kasha, take me to see Mai …” I ordered. Looking at Tama, it reminded me that Mai was left all day with the eggs, and I should at the very least check with her. They were my eggs, too. 

 

My ‘personal Displacer’ was more than eager to take me away, and the void took us once more.

 

The 'rift' brought us to the cobbled courtyard in front of the pagoda, an abandoned shrine in the hills that had been our first contact with civilization.

 

It was probably for the best that someone desecrated it for us, considering our rather sensitive reaction to the natives’ magic. 

 

Now, completely overrun by the creeping plants, alien fruits and otherworldly flowers, surrounded by their lairs and obstacles made of twisted bramble, it was nearly unrecognisable. I still didn’t quite understand why Mai took such a liking to the place, turning it into her personal abode, and the nest for our eggs. 

 

I would have to trust her. Perhaps there was something to this place that benefited them more than the castle, or the fortified camps my girls were making. 

 

It wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

 

Guards - a couple of ‘Corruptors’ as well as two ‘Ravagers’ - greeted me. 

 

The little scaly ones didn’t look too threatening: they had adopted a ‘tribal warrior’ image over their usual ‘hula dancer’ one, but they were still quite small despite that.

 

The bear-girls looked quite sleepy too, as always, but I was certain they would be ready should problems occur. They were few, but hopefully for us, all potential enemies would have to brave the mountains, miles of  hexed jungle, and  the fortified villages-turned-outposts.  

 

“Root!” 

 

But just as I was about to climb the few steps to the pagoda centre to see Mai, and our eggs, a voice stopped me, forcing me to turn. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Root!” 

 

This was unexpected. 

 

The ‘Lady’ was there, lounging in the braided ‘sofa’ of branches my scaly companions fashioned for themselves, surrounded by several ordinary ‘Displacers’ along with one ‘Warpstalker’ and Sora herself. 

 

Seated around the low campfire, they were feasting on the blood-fruits that Mai - or possibly other ‘Corruptors’ - had made for us, exclusively, as opposed to the berries they fed the humans. 

 

They didn’t seem to be in a hurry, though, considering they were pulling the sea-going ships through their rifts because of our sailing incompetence, they deserved the rest, even if they weren’t the most social of my girls. 

 

I didn’t know why they brought the guest, but I suppose this was Mai’s place, and she might be bored taking care of eggs all day. Why they invited the ‘Lady’ for dinner, I couldn’t fathom. 

 

Their supper, however, reminded me I didn’t have any food. My stomach protested. 

 

Lately, my worry was what my little scaly friends fed to the humans, as opposed to what I ate, and sometimes I could get going just through the  ‘Defilers’ infusing me with energy. 

 

Our ally, however, didn’t seem to have such worries. 

 

“Ro….ot.” Dragoness mumbled with full mouth. 

 

The ‘Lady’, in her new form of anthropomorphic eastern-dragon, slurped on the blood-like juice of the alien fruit, letting the syrup drip from her mouth onto the previously clean priestess’ garb she wore.

 

I hated that dress, but I supposed she did too, considering how wastefully she behaved. 

 

“Hmmm…” the dragoness murmured approvingly. The ‘Blood-fruit’ intended for my girls apparently satisfied her peculiar sensibilities, but she gathered herself quickly. She jumped to her feet, or rather claws, and headed towards me, her fluff-tipped tail lashing. 

 

It was apparently fireproof, as it touched the fire without her reacting to it.  

 

More rifts tore into being, bringing the rest of my closest followers, but the ‘Lady’ paid them no heed. 

 

“Root! Your Winged Terror can’t bestow powers on my behalf, nor can I bestow them myself!” She spat out, throwing the remains of the fruit behind her. 

 

The cats chuckled like young girls at her lively antics, finding her behaviour quite entertaining. They could leave her at the settlement designed for her followers, I thought. Nevertheless, the ‘Lady’ was an ally, not a prisoner. 

 

“Her name is Arke,” I corrected her. “She may not appreciate being called Winged Terror.” 

 

The ‘Fleshspeaker’ magic was slightly disturbing, and in the way, they were a little - or rather not so little with the several metres of wingspan - terrors, but they were mine. The ‘Lady’ shouldn’t have bad-mouthed them. 

 

“Arke…” she corrected, not too distracted, but continued: “We could make my followers spit poison, but couldn’t  restore my original blessings! It doesn’t work even if Arke has the power herself!” 

 

Whose idea was it that the priests - or former priests - needed the ability to spit poison? 

 

I left Angela behind with her inventions, but it was increasingly apparent that her sisters weren’t going to sit idly. 

 

“It doesn’t work that way.” I still said: “Even my …” 

 

I paused, looking for the correct words, as I wasn’t as keen on the idea of playing a god as the ‘Lady’ was. I looked back over my shoulder, but even if Narita and Tama were present, they didn’t object. 

 

“... my priestess could not reproduce the abilities the priesthood of the dragons had, even with the fruit.” I said. 

 

Ekaterina probably didn’t trust the ‘Lady’ much, since she tried to get behind the dragoness' back as discreetly as she could. Quite a feat considering the bear-girl was over two metres tall. 

 

Kasha was also ready to pull me away, but the ‘Lady’ paid her no attention. Instead, her mind visibly wandered. 

 

“The fruit?” She looked confused, both at me, and at the meal she just had. 

 

Briefly, I hesitated, uncertain whether it would be wise to tell her, but then I shrugged - the ‘Lady’ was around when the first ‘Mutator’ arrived, and first ‘evolution’ was attempted. It wasn’t a secret. 

 

“Not those. Not the food ones…” 

 

Calling fruit that contained thick, red juice eerily similar to blood ‘normal’ was a stretch to my lingering human sensibilities, but it was relatively tame compared to what my girls did. 

 

“Bloodfruits are for my girls. I think they like the taste.” 

 

I mentally cursed how bad I was with names… 

 

Wordlessly, the dragoness returned to what was, I assume, her dinner. The ‘Lady’ gave the blood-fruit another taste, savouring it, likely wondering about its effects. 

 

“Hmm…” she murmured, “There is no power within these, but I like them. They are very invigorating. It brings back memories…” 

 

A random ‘Displacer’ giggled, wondering why they entertained her demand to be brought here. 

 

I assumed the ‘Lady’ couldn’t teleport herself and my felines simply had to follow before she got herself into trouble. I had to ask, eventually, but for the time being… 

 

“No, I meant those.” I pointed. 

 

Mai’s compound had a ‘Tree of Arcane’ of its own, complete with its entwined bark, oddly reaching branches, and the strange, glowing, spike-covered produce. 

 

It was untouched, and even unattended by ‘Mutators’ at the moment, since the one in the palace has been raised, but right now, I welcomed it as the point of reference for the ‘Lady’. She, I was certain, knew more about the magic than I did, but there was very little to discuss unless we found a common vocabulary. 

 

“This is the Tree of Arcane. It bears the special produce which is closest to what I think is a blessing…” 

 

I was really terrible with names. 

 

“Hmmm…” She murmured, and walked towards it, visibly perplexed.  

 

She quickly closed the distance between her and the tree, stopped, and reached to grab a glowing pome. It was just beyond her reach, the branches too high, even as she straightened herself up. 

 

“You can't have one.” I said, “They are of limited supply. We won’t spend our entire shock to give your priesthood powers. It won’t work.” 

 

Of course, she grabbed the fruit anyway. The ‘Lady’ could levitate, so the higher branches weren’t beyond her reach, and we were not quite competent in restricting her access, so we would have to set house rules instead. 

 

Perhaps a chosen few could receive one, I thought, resigned to make a compromise, considering the ‘Lady’ could come here and grab a few. I still wasn’t  sure whether her powers included the rifts or portals like my felines. 

 

She looked similar to my own girls, even felt similar, but whether she was trustworthy, it was hard to say. 

 

“I can only use about twelve … or maybe twenty... of those per day.” 

 

She floated herself back to me while inspecting her catch. She was visibly unimpressed with the dimly glowing thing that appeared less like a tasty diner, and more like an eldritch pineapple. I wondered whether I should have called them that, although that would be silly. 

 

“This isn’t blessed. This is a soul trap,” she said. “It doesn’t help if we hand these back to our followers.” 

 

I barely suppressed a flat “What?” in response. 

 

“It is a way to strengthen my girls.” I explained, unsure, “They need to absorb the energy within the fruit  in order to become stronger.” 

 

“I am not sure why you don’t just devour the souls directly.” The dragoness said, unperturbed by the concept of ‘eating souls’. 

 

While I admittedly never found out what made the ‘Tree of Arcane’ or its produce magical, or how they truly worked as  the metaphorical ‘royal jelly’ for our horde, I found the ‘soul’ explanation strange. 

 

I could check with the ‘Mutators’, gardeners of our arcane orchards, though I remembered they didn’t know what they cultivated. After all, their element wasn’t ‘souls’, and I distinctly remember there being an option for an ‘soul’ element among those other cryptic choices the ‘system’ offered. 

 

I opted to ignore it, for now, but made a mental note to return to it later. 

 

“My priestess only showed powers to counter the…” I replied, paused, “... shrine magic when she used her own blood, and only after Arke adjusted her body even further…”  

 

It wasn’t powered by souls, it couldn’t be. 

 

“Blood magic.” The ‘Lady’ pondered on that: “It hasn’t been used for a thousand years. There isn’t much power held in one’s blood compared to the life energy in the entire body. Do your followers always have to use blood magic?”

 

I didn’t know. I didn’t have followers like she did. 

 

In fact, I was unsure whether the ‘arcane fruit’ would grant the ‘drone’ magical powers, which would be then remotely controlled by the ‘Fleshspeaker’, or if such an option was restricted to humans that retained their full faculties. 

 

However, it could be that Ari was special through the Serpent. I wasn’t sure, but was opposed to  experimenting. It didn’t seem right. 

 

Now knowing what the fruit  was, I had more questions than answers. 

 

“As far as we know, we..” I paused, “...we induce abilities similar to human Adepts. There are genetic predispositions for rejecting our enhancements. We affect biology - Arke can  reshape fauna, and Kirke affects flora. There is something physical about it.”

 

I paused. It dawned on me that I had used an overwhelming number of modern phrases, yet the dragoness never seemed bothered. Instead, she seemed to seriously consider the answer, like she understood, which was, in itself, another mystery. 

 

“Adepts.” She pondered, “None of my priests were adepts. It’s unwise to pick those.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“Adepts are dangerous. Or rather, their potential is.” She said, her fur tipped tail lashing furiously, like she was an annoyed cat: “Unlike you, or the Scrolls, they were a natural part of this world since our ascension, and the results are very predictable.” 

 

“... but the potential is rare, and needs to be trained?” 

 

“Yes. They need to be trained, their potential cultivated.” She replied. 

 

For a while, the ‘Lady’ seemed to be submerged in her thoughts. Then she spoke: 

 

“The potential can’t be inherited. It appears randomly, but how it is unlocked is always predictable. After all, we are very familiar with it.” She smiled, looking quite pleased with herself. 

 

“Hundreds of the mortals die, and those who succeed are satisfied with the fact they are on the path to become the greatest warriors among mortals. We couldn’t let them become priests, because they would find out that ascension is possible, yet as warriors, they would never realise they were missing something, even as their bodies were greatly enhanced once they expanded their internal reserves…”

 

“Ascension?” 

 

Wasn’t that the way the dragons became gods in the first place? 

 

I was about to ask, but the ‘Lady’ spoke first. 

 

“So you must sacrifice the blood of the Adept rather than bestow the blessing?” 

 

She said, ruminating, though it was apparently more a consideration for her own sake. 

 

Was there a reason the ‘system’, the power behind the creation of my girls, was so bound to having ‘major enemies’ - the ‘Adepts’ - dead? 

 

In truth, for all its finicky nature and unreliable numbers, the power behind the annoying screens was dead set on two things - making more of us, and killing as many ‘major enemies’ as possible in the process.  

 

There was something special about the enemy ‘elites’ other than their supernatural strength and superhuman abilities. 

 

But that wasn’t the mysticism of ascension, wasn’t it?  

 

That was the ‘Scrolls’. 

 

They brought me there. 

 

“Oh! Root!” The ‘Lady’ suddenly perked up, gazed at me with her shiny eyes, now glowing with excitement and sudden realisation. She spun in a circle cheerfully, her mood changing once again. 

 

I looked at my girls, but they were not alarmed by her behaviour. 

 

“I am your spawn!” she nearly squeaked, her voice sounding more youthful, then exclaimed: 

 

“It doesn’t work this way for you anymore! They won’t grow into anything capable of influencing the barrier. I just need to teach them blood magic, if they are like Adepts their blood will hold more power! You will make sure they won’t die from haemorrhaging!” 

 

I wasn’t impressed, silently questioning whether I should query her about her understanding  of ascension, her awareness of the medical term she shouldn’t know, or perhaps even the request for the explanation of the gibberish Scroll content. 

 

“Hmmm.” I murmured.

 

“Hey, bring me back to my place!” The ‘Lady’ ordered, pointing at Sora. 

 

“No. Only the Master can give us orders.” Sora exclaimed. 

 

It surprised me. The ‘Alpha’ crossed her arms over the chest. For all her tendencies to disappear at random until she was required, and requested, to do something, she didn’t  seem to be interested in playing along, and stared the dragoness down.   

 

Because she was more panther-like, thanks to the previous ‘evolution’, she did have a more threatening presence compared to the normally diminutive ‘Displacers’, but even they didn’t look at all cooperative… 

 

She never said no to me. 

 

“For … Master.” Kasha added, inserting herself into the conversation, stepping out. 

 

Though not very attentive, and always on the road, my teleporting felines apparently disliked being told what to do by the ‘Lady’, even if it was a single trip they would otherwise make only to sate their wanderlust.

 

Ekaterina didn’t seem happy either. 

 

Her large, muscular, and armoured form was considerably taller than the ‘Lady’s’ human-sized form, and she took a step forward. 

 

“We are both his spawn, aren’t we?” she tried, sounding more frustrated than afraid. I doubted she was in danger, or afraid - after all, the fact she wasn’t in the massive serpentine form didn’t make her powerless. To her credit, though, she tried to deescalate the situation, which was very unlike her previously boisterous behavior.

 

“I still don’t know what you want to do.” I said, “And I have too many questions.” 

 

“Root!” the ‘Lady’ said, almost as she said to convince me: “It works the opposite for you. It must. The things your Winged Terrors do! The things you make adepts with so casters have energy to fuel their magic, as you don’t perform blessings!” 

 

“How do you know that?” I asked, 

 

“I don’t.” She said, “But I must try! We will try with our followers! We might not even need worship!” 

 

The idea of worship sounded rather vain, if not completely unnecessary, and the only time when I complied was when we ran out of options on how to awaken the then slumbering dragoness. 

 

“Train how? Did the other dragons train their priestesses? 

 

“Yes, we all did, but differently…” was the response: “They are not Adepts, they are chosen for their conviction rather than natural gifts. We blessed them so we could, in turn, gain even more from our worshippers. It is an entirely different ritual, to channel divine powers, and  direct the power of worship, rather than accessing the power within.” 

 

It made sense - though I didn’t like it. If worship was the metaphorical fuel to the would-be dragons gods, their believers were the resource, and their clergy were who processed it and delivered it … 

 

“...but I am your spawn. They are your spawn, too! Their bodies are infected, they are not connected to the former me, or my brothers…” she rambled on, “...former brothers rather. It is strange. We couldn’t be related if my body is changed by your essence…” 

 

Neither her, nor her expression, were particularly coherent at the moment, though I could sympathise as I, too, could be distracted by other matters. 

 

“...wonder how much you are inside me right now.” The ‘Lady’ said, the unintended innuendo noticed and promptly ignored. 

 

“I would take the option that doesn’t require worship,” I firmly decided. It still sounded somewhat too petty and egocentric for my tastes. 

 

“We don’t have millions of worshippers like…” she paused, “... like my former brothers do.” 

 

“My girls won’t pray to you either.” I cut off, and my girls, unimpressed with the dragoness’ antics, affirmed it with: “We don’t need gods. We have only one master.” 

 

I gestured to Sora to come close. 

 

The ‘Alpha’ would have to put up with the ‘Lady’ a little longer, though in the future she would, hopefully, refrain from bringing her charge everywhere with her. Now we had confirmed that our dragon ally could not teleport on her own. 

 

However, before they went, I could try to get other looming questions answered. 

“Lady, do you know what is written in those magical scrolls? A first world, second from creation. Second world, third from creation, path lost?” 

 

“I am certain that there is no risk of your Adepts  ever being able to interact with the barrier.” She assured me, sounding nervous, agitated: “At least, not as they are now.”  

 

It was a non-answer. I didn’t ask about their barrier, their planetary shield of sorts, though the text did speak of the boundary, which may be the same thing.  

 

Another rift had opened and closed, bringing my Miwah home, but it only reminded me of the expanse of space that spread above our head, beyond the supposed shield that enveloped the planet. 

 

What was out there? 

 

The ‘Lady’ decided to abstain from answering, clearly. Holding Sora for a little while, I decided to press the matter a bit. 

 

“However, what is out there?” I asked, finally, “What are those worlds, the first world, the second, the third, the fourth?” 

 

“A local group.” She said quietly, her mood sour, almost melancholic, or depressed.  

 

“There are more worlds out there. We don’t know if the Scroll could open the pathway to those beyond, but even in this group, it is enough. It has terrified me since we ascended and our awareness expanded greatly beyond that of the mortals…” 

 

“So the translation was correct about them?”

 

“Yes,” she sighed, “...the scrolls often speak of the other things beyond.. They seem far, but they are merely beyond the reach of the light…” 

 

I opted to remain silent. 

 

“The ones mentioned in the Scrolls are the most dangerous. They give mortals context for things they could try to contact, to bring here. It’s not worth the risk.” 

 

She continued, as I nodded, having nothing but the dubious translation of the sage to go by. I was leaning heavily on his trustworthiness.

 

“There was a world like this one. It had humans, but was overrun by creatures like your spawn, and it disappeared. Forces stronger than us took it away and I … I don’t know. How do you know?”

 

The one world, according to the text, was devoured, while the other was lost. I hadn’t paid much attention to it, as the transcript was full of incomplete sentences and vague references I couldn’t comprehend. 

 

Tama still had the draft her sister made, waving the paper away, but the ‘Lady’ paid no attention. 

 

“I don’t know anything, Lady. Just what was written in the scroll we recovered,” I answered truthfully: “It spoke of the first world devoured, second world path lost.”

 

There were too many assumptions to be made about the scrolls, with very few ways to confirm them, so I would dismiss them and wait until I had more pieces of the puzzle, or the ‘Lady’ was comfortable telling us. That was assuming the dragons themselves had read the manuscripts they tried to hide. It seemed the ‘Lady’ had, at the very least.

Better yet, she must be able to understand them, just like she understands our language. 

 

“A path lost. I know of the lost one.” She sighed once more, mulling it over, almost as if she tasted the thought on her tongue. Then suddenly she spat out:

 

“You can’t use that one! Some scrolls only trigger visions, some give powers, or give you information, but they are  dangerous! Unpredictable.” 

 

She was suddenly alert, her body tense, and she looked around much like a veteran reacting to a loud noise. 

 

“The path is lost for this reason! I don’t even know if it can be opened, but the scrolls can do things we can’t! We can’t let the thing that is locked on the other side get there! We can’t!” 

 

I watched her as her mood changed. She was suddenly angry, agitated, even afraid. It was eerily similar to the episode that saw her destroy a shrine.

 

“We can’t!” She yelled out, “The barrier is still there! We will find a way to control it, just with enough power. Just do it your way! It would keep us safe!” 

 

I didn’t know what to do, expecting a violent reaction, but then… 

 

… she was, willingly or not, part of us, like Ari was. She just took a different route.

 

I didn’t like seeing her distraught. There was something wrong with it, with her, to the point I  doubted she was fully sane. 

 

“I don’t want to see what happened to the other two…” she mumbled, “Root…” 

 

However, there was something in her, about her, that gave the impression she was more part of us than she was part of them, something more than her outward appearance. She did not look bad either, I must admit. Her body was curvy and elegant, warm to the touch, and she knew how to wear that accursed dress, yet her attitude was like summer weather, changing without warning. 

 

Would I dismiss her behaviour as a quirk if she had materialised from the puff of ruby red smoke, as my girls did?

 

In all honesty, I did not know. 

 

My reaction calmed her, though, for now. I was increasingly certain she wasn’t quite right. She had certainly lost the haughtiness she had before, at her full power. Ultimately, however, I still wasn’t sure how to approach her. 

 

Somewhere behind me, Tama cooed, and Kasha meowed softly.

 

“I will leave it for later, lady.” I decided, “We can speak about it tomorrow. Go to your followers, rest, and find how to make their magic work.” 

 

The ‘Lady’ looked at me, but said nothing. 

 

Briefly, I wondered whether she needed a better name, one other than a truncation of her former title. I would not call her Tiamat, or something inspiring, dragon-like. She had been an adult dragon for longer than I had been alive, and could pick her own name. Perhaps she wanted to look past the title she once held.

 

“Sora will take you home…” I said. 

 

She still rambled a little about the ‘blood magic’ and ‘winged terrors’ to which I nodded - a topic that didn’t interest the ‘Warpstalker Alpha’ nearly as much as it would even the tamest of the ‘Fleshspeakers’.

 

Sora carried out her task, and once the portal closed, I was once again alone with my inner circle, while the other ‘Displacers’ gathered and left. 

 

“Narita?” I asked, looking up at the slowly dimming sky, which signalled that the work for the day was over, at least for me. Some of my girls were partially nocturnal, and most, if not all, could see in the dark.

 

“Yes-yes, Master?” The first of all rat-girls replied, as I considered what last precautions I could make before I retired to rest in the soft embrace of my closest girls for the night.

 

“Divert some of your sisters to facilitate healing should she do something stupid with her followers…” 

 

As far as I could tell, the greatest dangers came from the risk of self-inflicted injuries, as the caster’s blood was, somehow, important to the ritual, and the people who could participate were, at the same time, immune to the deadly side effects of our magic. 

 

I realised I could have asked the ‘Lady’! 

 

Stupid me: The dragoness explicitly stated she couldn’t have inducted the ‘Adepts’ into her clergy, yes, but … 

 

Her followers, ones we saved and transported there on her behalf, were some of the immune. Some of them died, mangled by the void that laid beyond the ‘Displacers’’ rift, but most survived. 

 

The ‘Lady’ had about a ninety percent success rate in selecting people immune to our powers while completely avoiding the hidden lineages of the supernaturally gifted people. 

That wasn’t an accident! 

 

I looked over my shoulder, but all the ‘Displacers’ lounging there were also gone, and the only thing I could do was send for them once more. The ‘Fruit of Arcane’ lay abandoned on the cobblestone, the eldritch pome glowing a soft green, still visible in the day’s last light, and bound to light up the night. 

 

“At least tell Arke to query how the priests were selected…” 

 

I said, to nobody at particular, and picked up the fruit. 

 

“...and reserve three fruits for the humans. There are three human women I sent to the Viceroy guard. They were immune. Are they still fine? 

 

“Yes, Master.” Miwah confirmed, now that she was back from her repeated trips to the Viceroy. 

 

I wasn’t sure if further empowering the few humans I sent over to serve as the local lord’s guards was a good idea, but they were the only sample of people which wasn’t filtered by the ‘Lady’.

 

They volunteered or were selected by Ari, an independent evaluator. 

 

“Make the fruits available for them…” I said, looking up for the glowing fruit, and to my closest companions. 

 

The effect on my girls was, on the other hand, guaranteed, despite the implications the ‘Lady’ had made, and I thought perhaps it would be for the best to award all the ‘Brides’ and all the ‘Alphas’ with their power. 

 

“For Master!” Kasha meowed. Not only the ‘Alphas’, I thought. 

 

Mai came outside the pagoda. The reptilian girl carried herself with grace, though I could spot a certain tiredness in her step. Two of the ordinary ‘Corruptors’ kept her company at arm's length, almost as if they wanted to rush to her aid should she stumble and fall. She did not. 

 

I wasn’t certain if she had to warm the eggs with her own body, or merely guard them, but she, despite being the first of my girls to bear young, had been overlooked in the ‘Fruit of Arcane’ queue, and I wasn’t going to let it stand anymore.

 

I gave one last glance to the glowing fruit, thoughts racing with what the ‘Lady’ had said, before I dismissed it. I would figure out if it was possible to maintain the supply of ‘resources’, as the ‘system’ called it, later.

 

Mai was the last of my ‘brides’, one who was continuously overlooked, but not anymore. She needed strength. 

 

“This one…” I said, stretching my hand towards the reptilian beauty I hadn’t seen the entire day. 

 

 “This one is for the mother of my children…” 

 

As the fruit dissolved into ash, and its energy was transferred to Mai, I was struck by an idea.

 

Would the power of the ‘Arcane Fruit’ work on me?