Dungeon Core: Bugged Ascension

~Advisor.

The accommodations presented to the Queen for her stay have been… adequate, for humans. It was good that sufficient wait staff was brought along with our expedition. While our encampments along the journey were quaint, there was less of a detachment from nature, and thus initially the extra busy work seemed superfluous. Now, entombed within the human’s capital and its veritable war against the ‘wilds’, the background symphony brought forth by the Quiet is a soothing balm on our tattered nerves.

With the elevation of an Ambassador, the Kingdom’s have deigned to establish a more permanent enclave within the capital for our kind. Much work will need to be done to ensure a healthy atmosphere for those who would be required to stay long term. Though, it will serve as a useful recruitment ground for those humans that would be a good fit in our society.

Regardless of the Kingdom’s niceties in general, I am displeased that once again, our Queen is being made to wait. The disrespect of time and tempo are an affront to her station, and were it anyone but the Bloody Jester herself…

But it is The Red Lady that is keeping us waiting, and so we must bow to her greater power and influence.

As this is not the first occasion this has occurred, the strict discipline held by our proffered suitors has gone lax for many of them. They mill about the arena, spar with the various weapons adorning the walls, more closely inspect the various craftsmanship on display, or even sink into meditation.

After meeting War in person last time, I am unsure how, if indeed at all, these various behaviors will be assessed. As I have never been the strongest of our kind, I was not present for the after ceremony once our Queen signed the Peace Treaty. So, aside from the flashes of impressions I picked up from the battlefield, or the songs sung of her during Times Past, I had not truly experienced: War, the person, the woman.

The mind I glimpsed in the brief moments where she struck out at my wandering stare with a darting of her oh-so observation eyes. That mind was full of deep machinations, constantly grinding away at everything within her view and more besides.

A servant walks over and hands me a slip of paper, “Names of those removed from the selection.”

I take it from the young girl with a nod, as I review it and match names with those amongst our offerings, the beginnings of a pattern emerges, “Was there a reasoning for these names in particular?”

The servant looks out at colosseum floor, “War doesn’t need mindless soldiers that will stand at attention, nor those whose only purpose is violence.” A sweep of her hand indicating that the names present included most of those either still fixed in parade formation, or those fighting with various weapons.

I nod as I finish the list, “I see that it was not all of those partaking of those activities that were to be discarded. May I ask why?”

The servant glances my way and I’m stuck by a beautiful shimmering from her eyes. She gives a quick smile and nods before turning back to the scene below, “The ones sparing, whose names are not present there, at least appear to be seeking something more than mere violence. War recognizes that violence is a tool, and like any other, it is the hand that wields it and the mind that moves said hand that matters. Especially in matters such as marriage.”

I watch the expressions on her face shift to something more mischievous, “As for those kept among the statues?” her eyes dart back to mine for a moment as an indulgent smile fills her, “Well, I think they’re really cute. Eye candy can be a skill all its own.”

There is a moment, a ripple where my fairies falter in their flight or hovering and I witness those pools of brightness suddenly twitch and race to each movement, spotting the flinch before settling back on my own. Her smile begins to slowly shift in meaning and purpose until I nod my agreement to her and go back to pretending, “I’m sure the Lady would agree with your excellent taste.”

I roll up the list in my hands and pass it to one of my fairies to deliver to the Queen. Shifting my focus back to… the servant, I lift my hand in a signal of interruption, “If it’s not too much trouble to ask. Would you happen to know why the Lady makes appointments earlier than she arrives? I ask only because we are a punctual people ourselves and I would like to better understand our allies and benefactors in the Gestalt.”

After my previous acknowledgement of her slip, her face reverts back to ‘normal’ and she gets a faraway look, “The Lady would say that everything done for the right reasons is a Challenge. Some are easier than others based on your skill set and experiences. But many are true tests that reveal more of yourselves if you can look deeply enough.”

She motions towards one of the suitors at a weapon rack, “If left up to strict meetings, would she have been able to learn of his interest in engravings? A casual glance sees him examining the various weapons on display, like a few others, but a closer look shows him visiting specific racks whose weapons, the stands themselves, or the wall behind them have some of the more detailed carvings.”

Her head tilts to the side as she lets out a soft sigh, “The world is so full of things that make life a struggle, or complicated. It’s important to find the pieces that resonate with the simple joys as well,” her gaze sweeps back towards mine and I hold it when it reaches me, “What of you, Advisor. What do you see when you look below?”

Having chosen to meet her, I find myself compelled to maintain the connection. As my fairies take in the locale and watch as those dismissed move up into the stands to take positions to guard the Queen. My voice is rasped from my throat in a whisper of fear and a truth I would not utter willingly, “War. Death. Abomination. Empty nurseries and silent playgrounds because of a power gone mad. Decades of hollow Peace and now a feast presented by a starving people to an insatiable monster.”

As those words are torn out of me slowly, quietly, I find strength enough to push a few more of my own, breaking the brittle silence left in their wake, “Hope. A dim candle held in a raging storm. A drop of Honey, blending with the bitterness to seek something new, something better.”

A coughing fit strikes me as she finally breaks our locked stare, and while I try to wave her away, soon my Queen’s hand is upon my shoulder, “This one is mine. I may be destined to lose should the worst come to pass, but I can make your kind Suffer. Do. Not. Test. Me. Youngling.”

Those softly spoken words seem to shake and crackle in the air. Lady War turns her head away in shame, nodding at the far larger woman’s speech, “My apologies, Queen Famine. There is too much happening all at once and I wish I could defer this selection for years, yet. Flattered as I am by the offer.”

Caught as I am, still held in place by my Queen’s gentle touch, when the two Heralds fuse their gazes, there is a grand upswell in the magic around them.

War continues, “But my son, my Blade, has found his edge. I have stalled having new children so long because although he had managed to step into his own Myth, he still had yet to transform the token of War I bequeathed him into his own.”

The moment of confrontation ends, and I can take a breath once more, “My own Myth constantly tears at me. I’ve done my best to carve a place for children, for family while shackled by War. Now that I’m alone once more, I cannot delay much longer. Else I risk being consumed wholly by its madness.”

As she gestures out at the field of the Mu’Reign left, “But the Truth I tore from your Advisor is not unknown to me. It has weighed on me ever since the Treaty caused your people to change. I have strived for centuries to always give my best to my children, to grant them the greatest chance at success. But I do not know how to care for a child of the Mu’Reign.”

The servant meekly meets my eyes for a moment before looking away, “I need help. To keep the promise that I swore to myself the day I met Midas. Teach me how to be a Mother to a Mu’Reign.”

The Queen releases me from her touch as she steps to and then kneels to embrace the far smaller Lady. Her whispered words heard only by the three of us as my Queen’s mournful gaze imprisons me just as surely as any embrace, “I would if I could, youngling. There is still so much of our changed selves we do not know. This word, mother, I understand its definition, but is not something with meaning among our people. Perhaps, it is something that we can learn together.”

The Queen motions with her head towards her entourage, “Enough of this heavy talk of the future. At present there are many sons of Palace awaiting your judgement, young Lady. What do you say we find your Harmony in the Hymns. Hmm?”

There is a side angled convulsion in the flows of magic before the servant takes a deep breath and releases it, “Thank you. Let’s.”

As the two of them hop down into the arena, I see many among those down there shift and glance at me for how they should react. So, I sit back down even as my fairies continue their deliveries of snacks and drink and cloths to wipe away the dust. I make a note of the list of names being delivered back to me and the spontaneous inclusion of additional names as the mingling commences.

Mostly, I do my utmost to act casually to disguise the weariness of soul fatigue from being pressed between two powerful Progenitors.

And also, in the secret depths of me, I find myself replaying the moment when my Queen declared me hers, alongside the feel of her hand. Once I had claimed my seat in Pantheon’s halls and been assigned to attend the Queen in these new forms, I hadn’t given much thought to the future. Perhaps I could… perhaps I would better serve my Queen with more magic woven within my lowly Voice.

Even if there is the right mind, directly a steady hand, if the tool itself is insufficient, should it not be made better as well? Is that not the duty of an Advisor, to be worthy of attending their Lady. The flashes of memory that writhe in my sight for taunting moment: the beautiful smiles, the gentle touches, and all the time we’ve spent together.

Though we are far from the collective, there are still many memories stored within me and mine. In this strange state I find myself reviewing the courtship between Envoy and she who he named Honey. The similarities between their interactions and the bountiful time I’ve spent at my Queen’s side…

When I glance back to the Heralds in the present, it is War’s gaze that finds me first. She smirks and looks away, directing the Queen’s gaze back towards me and when she meets my eyes. Her smile is like the only sun in a vast and empty darkness. I am dazzled for long moments, long after her attention is pulled away once more.

I’m not sure what to do with these sensations that I have been subsumed by so suddenly, until War’s voice radiates out and reaches the stands, “Alright. We’ve narrowed down our choices to a more manageable number. So, I think it’s time to get to the combat portion of these courtship proceedings. After all, War will only accept the best for her Consort.”

Consort. What a word to emphasize. When she spoke it, she hooked my gaze and then flung it towards my Queen. War is an insatiable monster, indeed. Playing matchmaker even as we try to do the same for her.

And it would seem that even in this arena, War is the better combatant.