29 | Music of Monsters

This shall influence my Order’s magic, is the first thought that passes through Eli’s mind, quick as a passing bird, before Klia is yanked from his arm, shoulder coming into direct contact with something of no substance at all.

When he opens his eyes and gazes down, his vision clears enough to see something looking directly in return. It has no eyes of any sort, but thrums with magic, a distinct vibration nearing music deep behind his ribs. For all his lost high rankings of a queen’s warrior, for all the monsters that have been caught against the edge of his broadsword, he has never come into contact with something large, so ancient.

What are you? He nearly wishes to ask, for the Order is of so little help, but does not believe this is a creature which will speak in return.

With a start, he remembers how they fell.

“Klia?” he calls before the air-light limb wrapped round his leg weaves up to his chest. His hand finds the hilt of his sickle partially beneath him and rolls over, slicing through with practiced ease, digging a hand into the soft cap of the monster’s top before he can slide off its massive form. Its hide is tough and impossible to cut through, and Eli wracks his old mind for something Abner told him about these monsters, even the tiny ones in the sea with harmless lives. Anything at all. In the panic of the moment, he comes up with little.

You were once a warrior, act as one, he tells himself and forces a deep breath into his lungs.

First, he searches for sighs of Klia. Below him, through the translucent body, he catches sight of her dangling from one of the smaller ropes of a tentacle. If she is struggling, he cannot determine through the strange light and the creature’s writing body as it rolls against the side of whatever cavern is beneath their hallway.

Next, he dispatches with the closest limb to him which is feeling its way toward his leg once more. There is little traction upon this creature’s top, strangely dry but slick nonetheless. Every time he gets a boot under him, he nearly topples off the edge. He keeps to his knees for the moment. He cannot glimpse the ground from this position and knows not how far up they are. Injuring this creature may throw them to their deaths

Beneath him, the tentacle wrapping around Klia drags her further up into the underside of the creature. Eli recalls something rather clearly about Abner’s little scribbles of these things—they eat within their bodies.

Eli knows not why these creatures hunt his grandchildren, but now is not the time to find out.

Rolling over, he gets as close to the feathered edge as possible. Gemstones still stick in its skin, its flesh as strangely dappled as a moonstone. Below them, he sees something akin to more stone and—

A tree?

No matter, they are still too far up for Eli to safely figure a way to dispose of this bizarrely flying Unknown. Over across the cavern floor below, he catches the shimmer of water, massive and still in its underground resting place.

Eli slides to the monster’s edge and hooks the tip of his blade underneath the lip of the creature’s top in a way no broadsword would have been able to accomplish, yanking up. A sharp trill reaches even his damaged ear, the thumping song behind his chest turning to one of rage. Momentarily, he grieves for wounding this being, too ancient for him to comprehend, but it will take his little granddaughter from him should he not, and shall never allow it.

More tentacles reach for him, and he digs the blade in, weighing down this section of the creature’s head. His weight is small but not insignificant upon its cap. Every movement he makes bows it a little in the air. Resisting his weight is not easy for it, less so when he damages its protective top, and dips downward toward the water. Something strong and burning wraps about his arm, liquid fire even through his coat. With a gasp, he yanks at it, dragging away with all his strength, freeing the blade to slice away at the thinner limb of pale white burning through his clothing and flesh.

Absently, he thinks, Injuries down here will kill us, before he is dragged off its top. With a final effort, he slices the blade through the edge of the monster as it drags him down, further bringing them toward the water. His blade tip finds a weak section—an old wound—in the monster’s top and digs in deep. Klia unravels from the tentacle, dropping into the water below. With relief, he sees her flail and swim, still conscious, before the creature’s humming stops, and they crash into the black of the underground sea.

* * *

Under the table, something flicks Eli in the leg.

Glancing down as discretely as possible, he finds Abner’s face grinning at him from the shadows beneath the table. Eli nearly smirks, but one of the newer nobles—Eli has yet to learn his name—is speaking to the group. This is not a meeting for warriors, and Eli is only here because of his rank. It is a great honor to be invited in on Queen’s council as he often is, he’s not going to make a scene.

How did the kid even get in? Again, he glances down and finds his son unbuckling the many shiny brass latches on his boots. He manages, just barely, not to roll his eyes.

Lyra is with her sister in one of the markets lining the docks of Monsetyra. It’s a rare thing they both have the opportunity to visit, Lyra with her weaving, and her sister a shepherdess out on the isles. Abner is too young to be left alone and was supposed to be spending time with his uncle. So much for that.

Quick as a snake, Eli traps the boy against the legs of the chair with his feet, managing not to let his expression crack. There’s silent shaking from the boy as he laughs and struggles on the marble floor against Eli’s undone boots.

Pulling something out of his pocket, he hands it up to his father. Eli unfolds the little scrap of paper—the boy is constantly doodling things, handing them over to his mother or father. He will be an artist, eventually, or a scientist, given his obsession with the diagrams of everything he draws, not just the art of it.

Eli finds himself looking at an odd little rendering of some sea creature he barely recognizes. It has a squishy, orb of a body and long tentacles from the bottom. Abner has given measurements. It is not very large but appears to drag things into its body with the little filaments of limbs. Eli wonders where the boy even found a diagram to replicate such a creature.

Even living on the shore of the Far Sea, he has never seen one of these oddities washed up on the sands.

Eli tucks it into his pocket—for these little scraps of paper are always given as gifts—and ruffles the boy’s hair, pretending to adjust his pant leg. He would not be in trouble, per se, if the boy was found under his chair, but the queen would not be particularly happy with him. Even with his rank being what it is, he tries to keep a low profile within this palace. He is happy with his position and prefers to learn the goings on of the place while involving himself as little as possible.

Abner undoes the rest of the buckles on his boots.

* * *

Eli is breathing cool air. Warm weight moves on his chest, not quite large enough to be concerning. Water laps at his leg, and he manages to open his eyes against thick unconsciousness.

Staring at the dim of the cavern roof they have fallen into, Eli frowns, grimaces, and lets out a harsh breath.

Elijah Jyce

the Reaper, the Unknown, the Elder

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23/23 Buds | 1/10 Roots | 2/5 Filaments

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Stems

Bladewielder (15), Minddreamer (1)

Eli is less interested in this than the fact his arm is killing him. It’s the same one he injured already. At this rate, he’s going to have a hell of a time getting these kids back to their father—

“Klia…” he croaks, suddenly remembering it all, still uncertain where he is.

It becomes clearer what the weight on his chest is, as he blinks and finds the girl laying atop him, crying quite little sobs. When he raises his head, she throws her arms about his neck. Exhausted, Eli drops his head back to the sandy floor of the cavern and puts his hand on her hair.