Chapter: 259 Bonus - Meallain (Patreon)

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Meallain shifted her weight onto her forward planted foot, allowing the mass of her heavy armor to add to the movement.

There was a moment’s resistance where she lifted just slightly, before a satisfying crunch and squelch filled the silence.

Dozens of servants and soldiers cowered around the dinning hall, she thought she heard one or two retching at the sight she’d laid out before them.

“Who’s next?” The elf’s voice was soft, utterly calm, and yet it carried to every corner of the hold in which she stood.

The insignia of the House of the Acidic Tide hung from the walls as it had decorated the tile floor of the entry hall.

That tile was now painted with blood and shattered beyond recognition.

Below her lay the headless Pillar of this lesser hold.

The House of the Acidic Tide had only had a minor presence in Platoiri, but a senior Pillar had come to participate in the raid on the House of Blood with her Eskau.

Tali and Be-thric had ended that filth, but this eel had escaped.

Pathetic. That rats flee and survive when lions die. She shook her head and sneered.

His Eskau’s entrails hung from the rafters just outside, where he’d tried to waylay her. He’d died faster than his Pillar.

They just didn’t forge Eskau like they used to.

She hesitated at that. No, Tali would have obliterated them both with ease. So, maybe it’s just this House that’s gotten weak?

If so, she’d be doing everyone a favor by ripping them out of society, heart and soul.

She brought her focus back, having hoped that putting on a distracted air would goad one of those present into attacking her.

It hadn’t.

Cowards. There was nothing better than dying for your beliefs, save living for them. She would admit that she’d never tried the first herself, but she’d sure as the blood in her veins never let those she cared for be brought this low.

These people were disgusting.

“Fine.” She pulled a device from her belt.

It was a hold-ender.

Simply put, it used a fount bent towards void-magics to dump the entirety of a hold into the void.

They were stupidly expensive, and they weren’t very good for the stability of the region they were used within, but she had wealth to burn, and this was a more efficient use of her time.

Besides, she had dozens of the devices. She'd be more strategic going forward, but now? The City Lord was waiting for her outside, and she needed to deal with that distraction before going after the House of the Rising Sun.

After all, they had three Pillar and Eskau pairs still in the city.

That will be a worthy fight, not like this useless waste of my time. Still, it had been good to remove this filth as well.

Her fury was cold, the deaths of every member of the family she’d sworn her eternity to was too much to let stand, even if each had made their own choices, and their ends were inevitable in their own way.

“This hold and everything in it will be gone in two minutes. I hope you all stay to watch.” Once again, her voice carried to every corner of the hold.

WIthout another word, she left, her boots squelching slightly until the remnants of brains and rubbery skin stopped clinging to the magically augmented metal.

She took her time leaving, knowing that the denizens of the hold would be slow to pass her by.

Thus, when she stepped back into the streets of Platoiri, there were only about thirty seconds left on the clock.

A few people, mostly servant families clutching a few personal items, darted out after her exit.

The City Lord was standing with arms crossed across from the large door. His skin was a deep crimson, his hair was shockingly white, and his eyes were a burnt orange, no pupil in evidence.

He did not look pleased. “Is that what I think it is, in there?”

Meallain ignored him for the moment as she turned to look back through the open entry, seeing dozens of people sprinting for the door.

She felt a wicked smile pull at her lips as she waved. “Bye, bye now.”

She felt the magics act, and the door was simply gone. There was no flash, no explosion, it was simply no longer there.

The hold ripped away from Zeme.

She actually had no idea if the people inside would die immediately, but they’d never factor into her life again, no matter how long she lived. So, it really didn’t matter.

“Eskau Meallain, you overstep. Using such a thing in my city? Do you so desire death?” The City Lord’s voice was as soft as hers had been, and it only carried to her.

The elf cracked her neck and unleashed her aura, her true aura, not the paltry thing she maintained to keep the Council from fearing her with every breath.

Hallowed power washed out from her and slammed into the might of the City Lord.

There were no spell-forms in the clash, nor did either of them really try to attack the other.

Even so, the ground between them simply vanished in a brief flash, rendered unto dust and burned away.

The area had long since been emptied as everyone could sense the powers at play, and she hadn’t been subtle as she broke into this hold.

Meallain was more powerful than the City Lord, but the City Lord had spent millennia building his authority in this city.

Thus, their auras clashed on a near even footing, and Meallain found herself taking a step back to steady her stance.

“You are trying my patience, Eskau.”

“And your city won’t survive if you strain mine, City Lord.”

He smiled without mirth. “You brawlers”—he shook his head—“always underestimate the power of authority.”

She sent out a pulse of strength, driving the City Lord’s aura backwards by a fraction. “They. Killed. My. Family.”

She was spending power that would take weeks for her to rebuild, but she didn’t care. She would still have more than enough to deal with the animals in the House of the Rising Sun.

The City Lord lifted one eyebrow.

“He killed himself.”

Meallain grit her teeth but didn’t contradict him.

“The Mind-Flayer never altered his students’ minds as he did his own, and that was his ultimate downfall, and theirs. Now, the last vestige of those teachings and techniques are dust, and our world is better for it.”

Meallain screamed in rage, the force of her voice shattering the nearby buildings, even as the ground exploded under her lunge.

Whipping her arms forward, her protian weapon extended into the form of a lance that she drove at the man’s chest, and she flexed her concept with all that she was worth. Misread my attack.

The City Lord didn’t even move.

Everything stopped.

The rubble flying away from the obliterated buildings reversed course, and the structures were reassembled.

Meallain strained, spending power like heat in summer, but she couldn’t move even a hair’s breadth outside her body.

Internally, she was panting with the strain, her muscles bunching and struggling to force herself forward, to no avail.

Her lance was much, much longer than was practical for anything except a quick, surprise thrust, and its tip was fixed in place six inches from the City Lord’s chest.

She might as well have been carved from stone for all the threat she posed to him at that moment.

Even so, her concept had proved its worth.

The knife that she’d thrown in the same motion as her lance thrust was embedded in the City Lord’s forehead.

A soft, familiar voice sounded in her ear, and try as she might, she couldn’t turn her head to look.

“Foolish Meallain, always bowing to others’ authority, never building any of her own.”

She couldn’t even spend her own power to contest the utter control exerted over her.

“Anything you would do, I can simply disallow. There is nothing that you can do to…” The City Lord trailed off mid sentence, then sighed.

The City Lord, with the knife embedded in his forehead, turned to look to the east.

“What do you want, Pallaun?”

Pallaun, Eskau of the House of Blood, stepped into Meallain’s peripheral vision, and she was able to move her eyes enough to focus more fully on him. “Good morning, City Lord.”

“It was, until your fellow decided to throw a tantrum.”

“She has lost something precious.”

“That is not in dispute. Her fate is.”

Pallaun scoffed. “You do not have the Authority to kill her outright. You could banish her, but that would earn enmity, and leave a powerful enemy at your back.”

“Like you?” The City Lord sneered.

The obsidian skinned Eskau shook his head, sadness obvious across his features. “I have never and will never be your enemy, brother.”

It was the City Lord’s turn to flare with rage. His teeth seemed to sharpen before Meallain’s eyes and a blast of uncontrolled power leveled the very buildings he’d just restored. “She was my sister, that does not make you my brother.”

The man closed his burnt orange eyes, seeming to master himself. His white hair had been whipped into a frenzy by the flexing of his power, and it settled back into place. Magic flared in his eyes, even visible through the closed lids, and the buildings rebuilt themselves once again.

“But we are not here about our past, Pallaun. She attacked me, and this conversation is becoming very expensive.”

Pallaun was suddenly standing before the City Lord, and the man twitched just slightly, even as the obsidian Eskau pulled Meallain’s knife free. “This little thing? Hardly a scratch.”

“Of course I am fine. That isn’t the point.”

Pallaun grinned and flicked the tip of the knife. “No, this is the point, but I think you got that.”

Meallain growled, the rumbling sound vibrating her lips as she forced it out, breaking her mind free from its lethargy and into motion again. This is just authority?

That gave her an idea.

Her vengeance would not be stopped by a petty City Lord, no matter how well entrenched.

This wasn’t her city. She would do what needed doing, and depart, and this petty City Lord would have no say before, during, or after her work was done.

Pallaun glanced her way and smiled. “Besides, making her into an enemy would be unwise after the lesson that you’ve just given her. Make amends… City Lord.”

The white haired man grimaced, and even as Meallain twisted her mentality to deny the concept of the City Lord’s authority, she was released.

Her lance retracted to reform around her gauntlet, and she took a threatening step forward. “You cannot hold me if I do not acknowledge your authority.”

The City Lord sighed. “That is true enough, but I can still banish you, and you cannot do me lasting harm.” His eyes flicked to Pallaun. “But your fellow is wise. I have no quarrel with the House of Blood. In point of fact, I owe your House a debt. I was waiting to discuss what you would ask, when you decided to rip a chunk of my city into the void.”

Pallaun sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. “Meallain…”

“Don’t start with me, Pallaun. That bleeding hold already took me half a day to crack and gain entry. I need to be about my vengeance before the House of the Rising Sun flees to somewhere it will be irritating to follow.”

“They already tried.”

Pallaun and Meallain turned toward the City Lord.

He shook his head. “I denied their plea to depart, and I have sealed their hold. They are ready for you to enact your vengeance, if you can.”

The elf frowned. “Why? Why would you do this?”

“It amuses me, and they showed their weakness. If you can kill them, be my guest. If they die, they shouldn’t have been in my city to begin with. If they survive? Then, they will have earned my respect, and they will learn the value of that rare commodity.”

She hesitated. “I… I am not sure how to respond.”

“Gratitude is generally acceptable.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before nodding. “Thank you, City Lord.”

A moment of paralysis washed over her. “Good, good. You once again acknowledge my authority, even if only because it will get you something that you want. That is as it should be.”

Meallain had a passing thought. I wonder if having a Hallowed acknowledge his authority adds to it? That was very likely. She’d probably paid more than she’d soon realize in a currency she didn’t yet understand.

Now is not the time. There are beasts to slay.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but suddenly jerked his head to look to the southeast. “What? An exit? Why?”

He turned, orienting fully that direction, then, he titled his head to the side, and his expression broke into a wide smile. “Well, well. Now, isn’t that interesting.”

Meallain frowned. “What?”

He waved her off. “Something I desire might still be possible, though this avenue of acquisition has become highly unlikely.”

She opened her mouth to inquire further, but he waved her off.

“I’ve no desire to illuminate your own ignorance. Your House has enough to be about.” The City Lord locked eyes with her, and the gaze was full of power and authority as he spoke. “Do not break my city, Eskau.”

Without another word, he was gone.

He might not have ever been here, not physically. City Lords could manifest anywhere within their domain and exert their power.

Pallaun actually seemed to relax, and that, more than anything, tempered Meallain’s fury.

She shivered, restraining her aura once more. What was I thinking? Attacking a City Lord within his own city? Have I become so foolish in my grief?

She wanted to focus on something other than her own idiocy, so she focused on Pallaun. “What was that about?”

Pallaun shook his head ruefully as he absently tapped his chest, the metaphysical location of his soul. “I bear authority in this city from my wife, ever since she passed. He could revoke it if he wished, but that would require him renouncing her. He shouldn’t ever go that far, but you walked an unwise line, Eskau.”

Meallain heard the anger underlying the words. She was senior to him within the House, but they’d never fought, and she’d always felt that she’d lose. Even so, she had a question that she needed the answer to.  “Is that why you are so feared, your authority here?”

The man scoffed. “I don’t use her authority. That would dishonor her almost as much as the City Lord revoking it would. I am simply not subject to his authority while hers remains. I let her soul rest with me, and I will continue to do so until my final breath.”

Her eyes widened just slightly. She thought she’d discovered some of the reason this enigma was as effective as he was. She’d been wrong. Even so, she had enough presence of mind to bow her head. “Honor to the soul of one who has fallen.”

Pallaun bowed his own head for a moment, pressing his hand to his chest as he silently muttered his own words. When he looked back up, his tone was insistent, but lacked the tone of command, “Go, kill the House of the Rising Sun. Don’t dump their hold into the void. Save that for city sanctioned cleansings.”

“Yes, Eskau Pallaun.”

Pallaun faded from her perception, though she still felt like he was nearby.

She could probably find him if she needed to, but that was not her aim.

The House of the Rising Sun’s hold was close, on the near edge of the District of Doors.

The House of the Acidic Tide hadn’t been invested enough in Platoiri to expend the wealth needed for their hold to be in the District of Doors, but the Rising Sun had.

She moved like a ghost through the streets.

All of the Platoiri was in a state of shock, and the thoroughfares were mostly clear of traffic.

There.

The front doors had been replaced since Tali shattered them only a few days earlier, and their defensive magics had not been fully rebuilt.

Meallain was immensely grateful to Tali for having already overcome the hold’s defenses. She’d not have wanted to petition the City Lord, and pay for a hold breach. I’d owe her immensely even for that singular action, even if she wasn’t on death’s doorstep.

Meallain kicked the door open, the City Lord’s seal not interfering with her entry in the slightest.

She was met with a dozen armed guards right inside.

Her concept flicked out, and they all struck to her right, believing that she was going to move in that direction.

Her protian weapon struck out in the form of a whip, coiling around the four closest spears before growing blades.

Those weapons shattered as she jerked backwards.

Cheap make. I thought I’d have to cut through.

No matter.

Once again, she flexed her concept, and the guards attacked the space to her right.

Her weapon became an almost comically sized sword as she anchored herself, boots conceptually locking onto all the material around her to hold her still.

With that source of leverage, she swung, cutting down every guard that stood before her in a single swing.

De-arg is a genius. The thought soured her mood just a bit. She’d spent a lot of favor with that little bear to get him to train Tali, and that was now wasted.

Another group of guards came her way, and she sighed.

I don’t want to kill these idiots. I’ve never enjoyed weeding.

One was more competent, either having heard of her, or noticing that his own instincts were leading him astray.

She almost let him live to offer him a job, but thought better of it.

This wasn’t a traditional clash where the two sides could part with mutual respect and an agreed upon winner.

No, this was to be a slaughter.

Besides, bird-folk are always screeching and preening. Not worth the effort.

Tali had been worth the effort.

And that idiot boy ruined her.

She grimaced as she caught an assassin leaping from the side.

A casual flexing of her fingers popped his head free, and was sufficiently intimidating to the guards watching that they died even more quickly than most.

She moved deeper into the hold, focused more internally than on the increasingly tedious fight.

The core of that girl was golden. What madness led Be to strip off her personality and try to replace it with a subservient facsimile?

She’d seen features of who the girl had been in how she moved, thought, fought, and learned. A simple alteration of personality would never remove those aspects.

She knew the whole story.

Her name had been Tala, and to be fair, she’d have been a terror if she ever came to the arcane lands to attack them, but no human offensive had been launched in thousands of years.

Maybe we should be trying to recruit humans to our cause? If there are some more like Tala must have been?

She’d certainly caught Be’s eye, so she was likely unusual.

And now that uniqueness is gone.

Meallain growled and bisected a fully armored woman, shoulder to hip.

Finally, finally, as she kicked open a massive set of doors and stepped out into a large field of some sort, she came face to face with her true goal.

Three Eskau, three Pillars, and a large retinue of well-armed soldiers faced her across the space.

“The conflict is over, Eskau of the House of Blood. Your people raided our hold, and we did likewise. There were deaths on both sides.”

She smiled. “Oh, no, rats of the Rising Sun. The bloodshed has just begun.”

Meallain unleashed her aura once again, causing nearly every one of her enemies to stagger.

With a tremendous flex of her concept, she moved to one end of the line of her victims.

The whole group showered the middle of the battlefield with powerful workings and attacks, all reinforced to the extreme.

She suspected that several priceless, one-use defensive trump-cards had been used to stop her from attacking in a manner she never would.

As she fell upon one of their weaker flanks, she began to paint her revenge upon the world.

At last, she had found a moderate challenge.

At last, she could begin to truly process the grief of little Be’s passing.

This blood flows for you, Pillar. May your afterlife be far more glorious than that which Zeme can provide.

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