POV He-Who-Chitters-In-The-Dark

  He-Who-Chitters could not fully contain his joy as the presence of The-One-Who-Was-Not-There came at their call and hovered over them. Since being accepted by the formless being, He-Who-Chitters had begun experiencing more profound visions than ever before. They came in fitful spurts and were large in perspective. In those moments, he knew he was seeing flashes of his new Master’s sight.

  In one of them, he had seen the creation of a burning world, and in another, the consumption of a green land, absorbed into the greater formlessness. Each time, it impressed upon the rat that he had made the right choice in joining his clan to The One. This most recent time, however, he had not just gleaned from the edges of his Master’s consciousness but had been given a vision directly. A lush land full of bountiful food but dangerous in the extreme.

  That it had come at the end of a challenge was providential. All his clan had witnessed the defeat of Rat-Breaker, and all felt the presence of The One. His rule over his fellow rats could no longer be contested, not with the approval of their new master establishing him as leader. It did mean that succeeding in the task they had been given was of the utmost importance. For approval given can be approval taken away, and He-Who-Chitters would not be found lacking.

  It had taken time to prepare for the journey. The miraculous contraptions his master had given them proved more useful than he ever could have believed. With one of the larger rats pulling at one end, the rats could move ever more spark crystals, not to mention they could now bring a sizable supply with them. At least, that was the reason He-Who-Chitters chose to believe as to why they had been given such a wondrous gift.

  Now, they only needed their master’s permission to leave. He humbly moved forward, squeaked his desire, and bowed to the presence hovering nearby. He could sense his master’s curiosity but also his great excitement. There was something he needed Clan Spark to do for him, and He-Who-Chitters would be the one to lead the way.

  As the being’s presence moved, the rat turned to his assembled warriors and squeaked a command. As one, they began to move, surrounding the four wagons filled to the brim with Spark Crystals on all sides. Burly rats led the way, musculature swollen by the same magics that had made Bone-Crusher so intimidating. He-Who-Chitters made note of them, as his little mind took in their strength. Perhaps they could be enhanced further with Spark Crystal, once his position in the clan was unassailable, of course. The rat shook his head and refocused even as The One opened a gateway to the outside world.

  He-Who-Chitters made sure all his people got through before stopping and staring in amazement, even as he brought his long tail up to shield his eyes partially. The Outside was bright! Too bright! After living so long in the darkness, the sudden light burned. All the other rats around him shuddered at the light. Not He-Who-Chitters-In-The-Dark. He would make sure that his people would live to be useful to their master.

  That dedication was put to the test sooner than he would have liked as the grasses around them began to rustle and other creatures began to attack. With a loud squeak, He-Who-Chitters rallied his people as they began the march through their master’s domain. The One had many defenders, and this was evidently a wild and unforgiving part of his domain. The rat realized the truth even as he sent a spark outward to ravage a striking snake. Only the strongest would have a place in the inner workings of his master’s domain. He-Who-Chitters-In-The-Dark would make sure that his people were well represented.

  Mouse Rangers POV

  The Mouse Rangers stood at the old border between where their master’s territory had been and where it had expanded to. The dark earth and loam of the shadowed land of conflict juxtaposed with the great field of green that spread out. The mice were waiting. Their master had requested that they lead others to the growing land they had found. While they would have preferred to go out and search for more gifts for their master, orders were orders.

  So they waited, woven slings gripped tightly in their paws. That wasn’t to say they were stagnant. They hunted while they waited. Their newest target was one of the green slitherers that used to prey on their kind. It had been trying to blend into the surrounding grass to escape detection.

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  It didn’t matter. There was a sound, like rushing wind, and the snake’s head popped up to ascertain the direction of possible danger. It saw nothing, even as a tiny rock whizzed across the separating space to cave in its skull. All was silent for a moment until a rustling sound made itself known. The three mice approached the body, their forms mottled in different colors due to the dirt and greenery stuck to them, a new idea.

  One of the Mouse Rangers gave an approving shove to the middle one’s shoulder. It had been a good shot with their new weapon, one their instincts had taught them how to make and use. Dried grass tied into a rope with a cavity in the middle, with which you could throw a rock much faster than by paw. They watched in silence as the snake dissolved, a mystery of their master, before turning and making their way back to the ramp that led up to the second floor—time to wait some more.

  When the ones they were supposed to lead arrived, it took everything they had not to run, despite their stage of Ascension and new weapons. A large column of rodents, rats, came marching down the earthen ramp that led upward. Some of them, huge in size, pulled carts laden with sparkling crystals filled with Aether. On a cart at the front of the pack stood a twisted creature, one eye sparking with power as he squeaked orders to those around him.

  The Mouse Rangers were strong, but their Ascension stage didn’t provide them much in the way of combat ability other than their long-range weapons. They were explorers and seekers. Being confronted by an army was more than a little intimidating. Not to mention, they were rats! Just their scent made the mice want to run. The arrival of their master’s presence was the only thing that allowed them to remain. Soothing calm flowed through their minds as he directed them toward the column.

  For their part, the rats were ambivalent toward their fellow rodents. The twisted one was far more concerned about getting to where they needed to be than wasting time trying to eat them. Some of the bigger rats eyed them up and down, but the mice made sure to stay well ahead of the column as they moved out. Hopefully, they would be able to reach their destination without mishap. There were other threats besides rats when crossing the vast green expanse, and with such a large column, hiding from those threats became less viable.

  POV Warmeister Geckodo

  The journey to the Location of Power was rather simple. While others in his master’s kingdom would find it arduous simply due to their size relative to the distance, Geckodo had no such limitations. Most of his abilities were lost to him, but his innate ability to shift into a larger form had not been lost. It took him little to no time at all to cross the distance between the house and the pond set in the far southwest corner of the clearing.

  It wasn’t immediately apparent that he had arrived at the right place, but he wasn’t going to begin doubting his new patron deity so soon after being redeemed. Before him lay the appearance of yet more grass, a continuation of the well-manicured lawn that had just begun to get overgrown. The longer Geckodo stared, however, the more he was able to make out minuscule shimmers in the air, almost like a heat wave rising from the greenery.

  Reaching out with one hand, he blinked as his hand pierced the illusion. Almost immediately, the other side revealed itself like a hazy mirage. Thick undergrowth ringed a large body of water. Geckodo thought calling it a pond was a generous term. It was more like a miniature lake. The waters were dark, yet choppy, like there was a wind that could only be felt on the inside. Even through the haze, he could see movement around the pond’s shore and under the surface of the water.

  There would most certainly be birds of some kind nesting in the reeds and little inlets. Rodents, amphibians, and fish would round out the roster of aggressive denizens he might face. Geckodo was almost looking forward to it. He wanted to test his newly redeemed body, and he needed to know what abilities remained. This expedition was more than just an opportunity for penance, but also a way to prove to himself that his decision was the correct one.

  He withdrew his hand as thoughts of his old master plagued his mind. He was out there somewhere, Absolith of the Fallen. Chained by old magic and locked away. Geckodo might have wanted to claim he was still slumbering, but he couldn’t begin lying to himself now. It was safe to say that losing the Fallen Fomorians would be painful for the fallen spirit. If anything could wake him up, it would be that.

  Geckodo held back a shudder at the thought, old memories of pain resurfacing. He knew his people felt the same. It was why they remained outside of the dungeon proper. They feared that the savagery they saw in the dungeon was a mirror image of the horror they had just left behind. The former warmeister knew better than any of them that just because the pain wasn’t physical didn’t mean that it couldn’t leave lasting scars.

  Shaking himself like a dog, Geckodo refocused on the task at hand. He held up one hand and made a fist, testing his strength. He felt good and healthy. It was time to do his part for the god that had redeemed him. Faith had to be put into action to do any good. The warmeister would see his god’s will done. With a step, Geckodo passed through the illusion.