Chapter 806 – Mirror Image(s)

Do not dismiss this work as insanity, and I swear, do not dismiss it as insanity. What I am writing is made under the most lucid of minds and the most cohesive of thoughts. There is a sickness plaguing Arda, and it is a sickness born of ignorance and nothing else. The dragon that I have discussed is not a dragon, yet I cannot state what it is; the blade above my head prevents me from doing so. And this, I mean literally, I am barred from stating the information and the answer.

Yet the dragon is here, and I walk upon it. The dragon’s presence gives me life and I cannot explain further, yet I know that reaching even a hundred kilometres from the dragon, which is a feat that any Divine can do on foot in the matter of a day, will result in my death. And for this, I cannot give anymore hints, these texts are specifically designed as to be combinations of multiple fields of expertise.

I am bound by rules, and those rules culminate with this sword above my head. Yet ultimately, what I have realised, is that the monstrum that have bound me with rules are not infallible. I would daresay that whereas they are more knowledgeable than me, they are not as aggressive, nor as focused on the minutiae of language as I am. The rules are rigid and inflexible, and in that, I am certain I can skirt as close to their edge as possible without stepping over the line.

So I shall talk of insanity and dragons, and know that there exists a phoenix that has already burned a dragon once, and it burned it to nought but ash. And know that the insectoids that dwell upon the dragon built a prison to hold the dragon, because the prison had to exist, and the prison is a fortress at the same time it is a cage. The dragon’s presence is kept hidden, and thus, the dragon is allowed to exist, and the sacrifice that was paid was great.

For the phoenix scorched the dragon’s scales of all life and all insectoids that dared to call themselves the dragon’s children, yet it could penetrate into the veins. And in those veins, forests grew. Forests that were called another cure. Forests of stone that was so grey it could not be called flora, and it was a plant, whilst not submitting to its queen. And these forests of stone could not be could, but had to be expelled. For they are not something that should reside on the dragon, for the dragon makes wood that is pale, or brown, or red, or, when scorched, black.

And so, know that the phoenix is the end of life, but it is merely a cure against a body that does not wish for it. And there is no cure that is entirely effective, because all healing relies on the bodies own systems to finish the job, and bring the statistic up from nine to ten tenths.

Yet we do not wish to be rid of the dragon, and the dragon does not wish to be rid of us, and thus, no cure will ever be effective save for demolishing the dragon’s heart outright, and splitting it into a thousand different pieces.

- A short text, written by God Saranael, of Knowledge.

Fortia stared at the massive, circular base of the tower as her mind through a thousand different variations of what it could be. A fortress foundation? The beginnings of a tower? The ruins of one? A column? But what column would ever be so large? It easily a mile in diameter. A firebase maybe? The beginnings of something akin to that? Or it could the remains of a firebase that had been wiped out by monsters and then everything but the stones had been eventually removed from this world? And there was a glint in the middle of the structure, a piece of metal. A sword stabbed into the ground? It was difficult to tell, the metal was clean enough to cascade the light back at them.

The Goddess of Peace had no clue. But she knew what she had to do, and she hated herself that she could not voice the words. The not-Divine monster had rattled her bones enough, the fact they were building impossible structures like walls, which they should never be able to build, was another step. The fact they were learning in real time on how to counter Malam, whose entire reason for existence on this world was to hunt and exterminate them, was the final nail in the coffin.

Fortia was terrified.

Maisara said what had to be said though. “So we’re going into the centre of that, aren’t we?”

“We have to.” Fortia said. She did not even know why, but why was anything done. There was a huge circle in the middle of this chamber, they obviously had to inspect it from the middle. Anyone else, with even a modicum of a functioning brain, would come to the same conclusion. If for no reason than to see it.

But ultimately, the real reason that all them had stopped by the slightly raised platform was the same. Not a single corpse lay here. Not even a splash of blood, save for a mark where Fer had stepped heavily and sent the black substance that was the monster’s lifeforce onto the stone. Those creatures, whatever they were, did not wander here. “Who’s stepping on first?” Iniri asked. “Or should I?” To think that this little Goddess of Nature, who had been as quiet as a mouse on the Pantheon, would now be volunteering herself.

“What about that thing?” Fer pointed to the certain of the base. Fortia narrowed her eyes at the glint she thought was just a reflection of a torch. “That’s real, right?” Fer’s tone was deadly serious, not a hint of her usual farcical was hidden there.

“That is real.” Maisara said. “Although I thought I was seeing things.” Fortia flicked her torch on and off, it was as real as she was, and she knew that she herself existed in this reality. There was metal there, it reflected in the light like a shining sword, flashing in tune to the heartbeat of the torch. The warm wind came again, and then it settled back down.

“I fucking hate that wind.” Fortia said. Caves, especially underground caves, should not have this sort of airflow. It was one thing for them to be volcanic, and the warmth to tinged with the rank smell of sulphur. It was another entirely for a warm summer breeze to suddenly start and stop on a rhythm. “And what is that? Fer, can you make it out?”

“It’s a cage with a bird.” Fer said dryly.

“Are you joking or not?” Iniri asked.

“I’m not.” Fer answered and repeated herself. “It’s a real cage, with a real bird, and that is it.” She sniffed the air. “I can’t smell bird here though, and I should be able to.” Her ears twisted, her golden hair, streaked with the silver of Maisara’s power, swayed with it. “I can’t hear its heartbeat either, I can’t tell if it’s quite or slow or if it has one.”

Fortia released a deep sigh. “Should you be able to hear it?”

“Well I can hear your thumping heart.” Fer said. “And it’s silent here. I should be able to hear that too.”

“But if it’s in a cage, doesn’t that mean it can’t do anything?” Maisara asked. “I’ll step on first, if none of you will.”

“No you won’t.” Fortia was not going to be losing Maisara to such a stupid idea. What if she just disappeared? Or if that bird-cage cracked open. The monsters did not come close, why should they? “Can you tell anything else?”

“It’s an eagle in the cage and it’s looking at us.” Fer said. Again, the warm wind came and Fortia saw Fer’s hairs stand up from her arms, her ears both pointed forwards, her mouth fell open slightly before she caught herself.

“You just saw something, didn’t you?”

“I saw it’s stomach extend.” Fer said. “And retract.”

“Excuse me?” Maisara asked. “What does that have to do with anything?” Fer raised her hand.

“Don’t talk now, let me watch.” Fer said quietly and the other three Divines fell silent. They waited for a minute, and then wind came again, it was warm, although it didn’t seem to be getting warmer, although Forita did not trust her senses enough to voice that out loud. “It moved again. Out, in.” She looked at the other three, then back at the bird-cage in the middle that Fortia squinted to make out. If they were in daylight, or not operating under the light of nothing but high-powered military issue torches, made even stronger by the fact they were for Divine hands, she would be able to see it clearly, but not under these conditions. And again, they waited, and again, the wind came. “Out, then in.” Fer said.

“Is it what I think it is?” Maisara asked, Fortia already had come to her conclusion. The torso moving out and in was something that visible on everything bird, but the fact that they were feeling warm wind come over them was even worse. That had to be…

Fer made the call. “It’s in sync to the breathing.” Fer said. “When that thing breathes, so does the wind come.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t want to step on here.”

“I said I would, so I will.” Maisara said as she stretched her arms. “It’s a bird in a cage.”

“And if you get hurt?” Fortia asked.

“Then I will get hurt. I’ll…” The Goddess of Order trailed off. “Well, I was going to say that I’ll step off, but I can’t promise.” Fortia cried to argue back, or explain why it was dangerous, or find any sort of defence against the potential risk of losing Maisara again.

“Stay behind as a ghost and we’ll resurrect you.” Fortia said, once Maisara decided something, she would not be stopped. That much, everyone knew.

“Alright.” Maisara said. And then, the Goddess of Order took a step onto the platform.

The world seemed to extend and shrink at the same time. The walls closed in on the party, and then bounced outwards, and everyone’s eyes that had been staring at that tiny birdcage in the centre of the room, so small it could be tucked under a human’s arm, suddenly where starting at a Goddess dressed in the silver plate of dragonslayer armour.

With a cold glare, and silver hair that matched the coldness. And a posture that was everything Fortia knew, proud and tall. A skirt that ended high, and boots that ran up to the knees, a chestplate of a single piece of solid steel. Armour made for speed and nothing else, because everything back in those times incapacitated with a single hit, if not outright killed on the first blow.

Maisara stood facing Maisara.

“That is me.” Maisara said as she summoned her executioner’s axe. The other Maisara did the exact time, summoner the blade at the same instant and practically mirroring the movements. Maisara took a step to the left, her copy moved with her. Then another, from both Maisaras. “I can’t tell you if it’s a mirror image or a perfect copy.” She said.

“What’s the difference?” Iniri asked.

“I can’t tell if there’s a delay or not.” Maisara said. She bent at the hips, her copy followed. When of Order straightened, so did the other Maisara. When the one closer to Fortia raised her hand into the air, so did the one further.

“It’s not a mirror.” Fer said. “Take a step to the left again.”  Maisara did as told, her copy moved with her.

“It’s perfectly in sync with me.” Maisara said. “How can you tell?”

“Another step.” Fer said, Maisara took another step.

“I don’t see it.”

“It’s protecting the cage in the middle.” Fer said. “Look at that, you take a step, if it was a mirror, it would move with you. It’s fixed to that point.” Maisara took another step, this one tentative, and Fortia realised what Fer was true. The steps were synced, but they were not equal. The other Maisara moved as if to outright block the eagle cage.

“Should I step off?” Maisara asked. She turned her head, so did the other Maisara. “I’ll step off.” Maisara stepped off, and Maisara remained standing between them and the bird-cage. No one said a word.

“So that’s you.” Iniri said. “Or is it? Can you feel it?”

“No.” Maisara said.

“Do you think if it’s hurt, you will be?” Iniri explained herself.

“I have no clue.” Maisara stared at herself. She stepped back on, the other Maisara did not respond to the movement. “She didn’t move that time.”

“Maybe it only works when you’re on it? What about two at a time?” Fer asked. “Fortia, you step on.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m stronger than both of you, and Iniri can cast from far away, you step on.” Fortia opened her mouth, closed it, then decided there was no argument to give. They were in this together, Fortia may as well play the roll of the sacrifice.

The Goddess of Peace lifted her leg, then stepped onto the stone.

The room shrunk again, then it expanded back out in the span it took an explosion to combust, or a heart to beat, and there were two Divines now blocking the bird cage. One dressed in silver, one dressed in bronze, with hair and eyes to match, and both wearing the same style of gear made for speed. And both silent and not talking.

Fortia stared at herself. “Fuck my life.”

The other Fortia replied. “Indeed.”