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

  They were close. It had taken longer than he had anticipated, but they were close. In fact, the closer they had gotten to the rough area of the Location of Power, the more He-Who-Chitters could feel the tingle of it on his fur. His rats had performed well so far. The larger rats continued to pull the carts laden with crystals, though many of those had been drained and left behind like breadcrumbs on their trail.

  Dumb and brutish though they were, the large rats were savage in battle when properly directed. Several times He-Who-Chitters had used them to protect the caravan before they picked up their burdens and continued on their trek. Even with their strength and the diminished load, the caravan was flagging by the time they reached the Location of Power. The same thing could not be said about the mice who had been guiding them.

  They remained spry and alert, their ears always twitching, and their eyes constantly moving. They had played their part well, these guides that The One had given them. Now that the bright light in the sky was setting on their journey, he was proud himself that he hadn’t given in and let some of the larger rats hunt the little beasts.

  They reached the place just as the light was departing. The buzz of magic surged just under He-Who-Chitters’ skin, but the reality was simply a long stretch of uninterrupted grass. Where was the land of greenery? There was a squeak to the side, and he turned his head to find the three mice standing off to the side. One of them was eyeing him and, seeing that it had his attention, stuck its paw out. He-Who-Chitters could do nothing but stare as the paw disappeared.

  He couldn’t help but do the same, only for the hazy mirage on the other side to send him squeaking backward. His mind nearly shattered again at the sight. His new master wanted them to go into a different realm, a realm removed? He hadn’t even known that was possible. A shudder went down his spine, his fur standing on end, before he brought himself back under control. He would do as his new master desired. He would prove his clan’s ability even in another world.

  As he recovered, he noticed that many of the rats around him were too distracted by the dark emptiness above them to notice his reaction. Apparently, many of the rats found the new void above their heads disconcerting. He-Who-Chitters squeaked to get their attention before setting guards and had the rest of his clanrats sleep. They would enter the place tomorrow.

  They woke to find one of the larger rats missing. The rats around where he had slept said they hadn’t noticed anything, and the guards on duty said the same. The news spread through the caravan, and He-Who-Chitters squashed them ruthlessly. It wouldn’t do for the clan to be discouraged before conquering the Location for their Master. He reminded his rats of why they were here, and the mutterings quieted. The mice left soon after, their job done, slipping out in the confusion.

  It was a more cautious group of rats that entered the Location, but they drew strength from their fellow rats, of which there were many. He-Who-Chitters and his fellow Mad Ones remained close to the wagons and their fuel. All of them stopped in awe at the sight before them. Limited as they were by their eyes, they could still sense life. What they saw before them fit that description and more. It was vibrant, especially to He-Who-Chitters’ Aether sense.

  Physically, he only saw greys, greens, and blues. Despite his physical sight, he could sense and in a way “see” the beauty around him through its Aether. Towering stalks soared above their heads, bursting into pods or flowers. They were beautiful and practically exploding with Aether. Even as he looked around, he could sense the life that was present. It was this awareness that saved a great number of his people.

  He had reacted before he even knew what had triggered it. A sudden spike in Aether intensity and a flicker of deadly intent. His spark lightning caught the pouncing creature even as it leaped into the center of his clanrats. It was long and lithe with patterned grey fur that made it almost invisible against the backdrop of undergrowth. It yowled in pain and anger even as it fell stunned. It didn’t take long for his rats to recover from their surprise and fall on the creature en masse.

  It went down, tearing and ripping with its hooked claws, but the sheer weight of numbers brought it low. In the aftermath, the rats collectively shuddered in terror at the sight of the creature. Its jaws were almost as terrible as its claws, with large, sharp teeth, wet with rat blood. He-Who-Chitters looked at his forces with a measure of despair at the damage and losses they had accrued. That it could have been worse was an unavoidable fact.

  He ordered his people to retreat with their prize. Perhaps there was something their master would be able to do with what they had fought. They quickly dragged the creature out, and He-Who-Chitters began his chant. He had found that the meaning didn’t matter much, but he tried anyway. Danger, Battle, Victory, he chanted mentally, and immediately he felt his master lock his gaze on him.

  His master’s presence was like a stormcloud in how it approached until his presence crashed onto the assembled rats and their prize. His master’s joy at their victory was apparent, and then they felt the joy turn to a kind of hunger, and before their eyes, the creature melted into motes of Aether. He-Who-Chitters watched as the Aether flowed away before he made his next request. Master, summon help? Summon creature?

  He felt his master pause before Aether began to move in torrents. It flowed over the grass in a wave of power from the center of the edifice where his master dwelt. He-Who-Chitters had known, of course, that his master was the one behind the various creatures he had seen. It was obvious in the way they all treated him with respect and intruders with violence, regardless of natural inclinations. He had never seen it for himself, however, and that was a whole other experience.

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  The whole expedition watched as the very creature they had just defeated was formed out of Aether in front of them. Those terrible teeth and horrible claws. That fur that rendered it so hard to see. Every sinew and whisker, with no imperfections. The power of it left them stunned, and many of them drew back in reverential fear. Not He-Who-Chitters-In-The-Dark. His eyes twinkled in awe as he beheld his master, The-One-Who-Was-Not-There, turn a foe into an ally.

  That it was now an ally was beyond contestation. It yowled softly but otherwise made no move to attack the rats present. But the master was not done. In moments, there were two more of the creatures standing before them. They looked at each other before yowling greetings. He-Who-Chitters felt relief in that they wouldn’t be alone. Even as he watched, though, the creatures began to sag and his Aether sight flared. The Aether directly around the creatures was gone. They were like a vacuum that needed Aether to live.

  He captured their attention by hopping up and down, prompting his rats to open a path. He pointed with his right paw and tail for good measure. Needing no more prompting, his master’s monsters darted into the veil that hid the Location. He nodded in satisfaction even as his master came closer. Aether brushed over the rats, and many found their wounds closing. Even the worst wounded were healed to the point where their lives were no longer in danger.

  He-Who-Chitters bowed his head in relief. He had been concerned by the number of wounded but hadn’t let it show. They were an impressive company in his limited mind and experience, but their losses had laid a seed of doubt in his mind as to their ability to complete their mission. With the additions to their ranks and many wounds healed, his doubts were eased. With a final brush of Aether, the Master’s presence departed, and the rats returned to their work.

  POV Geckodo, Former Warmeister

  Geckodo ripped his claws free from another corpse. He had found the Location of Power right where his new patron deity had told him it would be and had promptly entered, confident in his abilities. So far, nothing he had found had dissuaded him from that assumption. The Aether in this place was rich, and he felt his Crystal Core flex as he breathed deeply, inhaling both the ambient Aether and the residual Aether from his various kills.

  The location was as beautiful as it was dangerous. It was situated around a rather huge pond, its crystal blue depths hiding a variety of life, with the edges surrounded by bulrushes and cattails. The godsblood had notified him of its status as a C-Rank Location before he entered, which had almost had him sending thanksgiving to his new patron again. The fact that the godsblood was even communicating with him let him know that he and his people had truly risen once more.

  He had been attacked as soon as he had stepped through the veil by one of the creatures now dead at his feet. They seemed like some form of Ascended water-rat at first glance, but as they had fought, Geckodo had revised that assertion. They were semi-intelligent for one thing, and acted more like the rats or mice he had observed serving his new patron. They used primitive sharpened sticks as well before realizing it was futile and resorting to their bestial jaws.

  The fights had been short affairs with the water rats bursting from the bulrushes or the ponds, striking out with their sticks in short, violent jabs. It had taken no effort at all to sidestep or avoid the attacks, and then, like clockwork, they would simply throw the poor excuse for a weapon aside and lunge at the Risen. Geckodo had met their wild rush with a calculated knee to the underside of the face, which worked almost every time, breaking bone and arresting their charges at once. It wouldn’t take long after that for his claws to find the beasts’ hearts.

  Geckodo wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. The creatures had clearly been modified beyond what natural Ascension should entail. The presence of the rats in the Archmage’s basement and the hidden nature of the Locations of Power led to a conclusion that Geckodo wasn’t sure what to make of. Were the Locations of Power simply a place for successful experiments to live, or were they placed there with intention? Perhaps for a new dungeon to make use of.

  Geckodo pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the mission at hand. The bodies of the creatures he had slain he had piled close to the veil’s edge. He wasn’t sure if they would be acceptable monsters for his patron, but he figured the dungeon would still be able to make use of the residual Aether contained within their bodies. With a heave, he shoved the bodies out of the veil before going through himself.

  Lifting his thoughts in supplication, he cast his prayer outward, knowing that it would be answered. My lord, it is I, Geckodo. I have been successful so far, and nothing has been too complicated. I have, however, found something that has implications for you and your dungeon. He felt the prayer be received and the accompanying Awareness of his patron was gratifying. Valterra’s gaze homed in on the bodies, and Geckodo watched as they dispersed into motes of Aether.

  Through their open connection, Geckodo could feel the moment when Valterra’s gaze sharpened almost like a blade being drawn. As his gaze locked on the Risen, Geckodo could feel his fur stand on end. This is my creator’s work. Valterra stated with determination.

  I am changing your mission. Subdue these creatures without killing them. Impress upon them the futility of acting against me. The location is still seen as unclaimed, so stake a claim. I imagine these creatures will be the way you do so, but just in case, I give you the Authority to use my Potential to cement the claim. The dungeon seemed to think for a moment before adding. And bring any other creatures you find and have no other choice but to kill. I can always use more Frameworks.

  With that, Valterra’s presence left, and Geckodo was left standing outside the veil, looking out at the house in the distance across a field of grass. His vision was clear as he took in the various creatures battling for dominance and a place in the larger dungeon. For a moment, he was transported to a darker scene, with more malevolent creatures enacting the same battle for dominance but for a much more sinister purpose.

  He shook his head to clear those thoughts. Here, there was no deception and backstabbing. Here, nature simply took its course, the strong surviving to become stronger and the weak being weeded out as chaff. It was honest in its brutality and straightforward in its desires. It was not cruel or spiteful. There was no torture or abuse. It was an enforced survival to become something more. If you managed to become something new, you were protected and guided deeper. Care was present alongside the conflict.

  Geckodo let that simplicity wash over him and determined in his heart that he would endeavor to guard it with his life. Valterra gave his Potential freely, and he guarded his creations jealously. It was not a bad thing to be held in the hands of a jealous god. That he desired a relationship with his creatures rather than simple subservience spoke volumes.

  Geckodo turned and entered through the veil once more. His deity had given him new parameters and made his mission tougher to complete, but Geckodo would have it no other way. He would complete his penance. The Risen would earn their place in their new god’s favor.