The Mook Maker

I had to see it. 

 

For the brief moment, I entirely forgot about the town, destroyed in our conflict with the dragon’s followers, or unfortunate converts from our tentative holdings pressed into service. I wanted to ask, though, how many they brought over, how many survived the portals, other than the five brought forward.

 

All of that was pushed aside. 

 

I had to see the scroll, even though I wasn’t entirely certain what if it would tell me about my predicament, if anything, considering the language barrier between us and the natives. 

 

Perhaps, I just needed to see what all of this was about. 

 

The prize others searched for or fought over, supposedly long before we even came to this world, was now brought to light, possibly literally. 

 

The ‘Displacer’ pulled me through one of her rifts without much hesitation, once I ordered it. 

 

However, when we emerged from the ever shifting void beyond a few eyeblinks later, there was no scroll in sight. There was barely anything to see. 

 

We stood among the dense, overgrown vegetation.  The shadow of the thick canopy of leaves above was barely any light in, with all plants around bearing the ‘Corruptors’ mark with its twisted, unearthly shapes and strange, mismatching colours.

 

Bright eyes with the slit pupils blinked in the shade.

 

“For Master! Master! Master!” 

 

A few of the architects of this floral madness were around, immediately rushing to greet me from their perches up in the trees, or in their oddly shaped, organic hideouts made of the living wood. They actually were climbers, after all. 

 

They chirp, girlish voices filled with excitement, eager to welcome me to their home. 

 

“For Master! Master!” 

 

I patted one of the ‘Corruptors’ - a little lizard girl with the wreath of flowers around her neck - on her feather-like ‘hair’- but immediately set out to find where they put the scroll they found. It must be nearby, they just hid it from the humans, which I admitted was for the best. 

 

My ‘personal Displacer’ stopped me, insisting I couldn’t go any further, as the other little felines were teleporting the rest of my closest companions to us, here. 

 

“For Master!” 

 

I didn’t quite understand why, at first. There certainly weren’t any humans around, so there wasn’t any danger the feline was implying there was. Wasn’t this the purpose of the ‘Corruptors’ lair around us, a hideout? 

 

“For Master!” 

 

I didn’t understand the mention of the barrier. 

 

We killed the priestesses that could cast that protective shield, and the one enclosing the magical scroll’s burial spot must have been destroyed, somehow, otherwise my girls simply wouldn’t lift the artefacts up from the sea floor. 

 

Yet, there it was, supposedly. 

 

There was no other explanation for the barrier surrounding the artefact simply vanishing after the battle, unless there has been some tangible connection between the nearest town’s shrine, and the underwater site, and the town was, somehow, responsible for the artefact’s security, as poor that security was supposed to be. This seemed logical. 

 

I originally expected it to take days, but now it was miraculously excavated, there doesn’t seem to be a reason to delay any more. 

 

All that time we saved could be spent finding the translator, if the language was the problem here as it was for the past days, though I thought we sorted that already when we enlisted the help of the Viceroy’s scribe. The sage, I recalled, the proper title was sage, was more advisor than a scribe…

 

The artefact called. No more musing, at very least, we have to establish that we either could read the scroll, or the reasonably educated native could, or a goose chase after the interpreter would follow. 

 

“Wait, Master.” Miwah said, interrupting my thoughts. 

 

Tama grabbed my arm, tugging herself close and brushing her fluffy tails to me, while a couple of ‘Displacer’ spread their arms, gesturing and pointing, and even our shared link didn’t quite understand their explanations regarding the ‘edge’ and the ‘border’. Why now? It doesn’t make sense. 

 

With Sora nowhere in sight, it was my foxy companion that provided the explanation.

 

“We don’t make the same mistake twice, Master.” The vixen said, “There is a barrier ahead of us.” 

 

I didn’t quite understand, but Miwah, quickly taking her position at my side, opposite of Tama, completed the sentence:

 

“The protective barrier around the artefact is still up even after Nereida moved it. Now it reaches up from the beach and the outpost the Corruptors were making.” 

 

“Stay close, Master.” Tama added, then with a purr “Very close.” 

 

The vixen was back to her old, flirtatious self, and whatever forced her to keep silent, and close to Helmy, had passed. It made me briefly wonder how close she and Helmy, or the other ‘Purifiers’, were, but since they were not only telepathic, and often referred to each other as sisters, it was quite unsurprising that my partner didn’t take the spell-scarred separation well. 

 

Perhaps the experience made them overly cautious. 

 

The whispers at the back of my head were restless, but I ignored them. The pull of the artefact, irresistible, in its own right, was stronger, so close, yet so far away. 

 

I shook it off. 

 

Now, however, I was rather interested in something else. Why was the barrier still up? 

 

“Where?” I asked, confused, trying to piece up how to detect the edge of the invisible wall without running into it. I tried to take a few steps, but Tama didn’t let me go further as I was already starting to feel a little bit sick or queasy, without any apparent reason. 

 

Was this getting close to a barrier like? 

 

Two ‘Displacers’ merely a few steps ahead pointed, to their left and right, being apparently the only breed that actually could see the barrier without risking the contact with it, and I had to wonder how it worked. 

 

Except for the slight sense of unease, there wasn’t any hint that there was any form of obstacle in front of us, and it likely fooled either the ‘Corruptors’ or the ‘Eviscerators’ before. Not even the leaves moved, despite all the plants around us were also touched by our magic, without feeling the disruptions. There was no shimmer, no other hint, and it seemed that my girls, with their keen senses and night vision, couldn’t see them. 

 

Without the ‘Displacers’ nearly supernatural special awareness we wouldn’t be aware there was anything wrong. 

 

Yet, the artefact, and its pull, the presence, the beacon - I didn’t know how to call it anymore - it was still there. 

 

I just didn’t know what kind of traps were laid out to deter the previous treasure hunters. 

 

It was quite frustrating. 

 

The idea of trying to step through came to my mind, wondering whether I was somehow an exception to the rule, the same way the ‘Fleshspeakers’ sent their creation in, or how the ‘Corruptors’ and ‘Mutator’ re-made flora wasn’t repelled by the spell, but the ‘Displacer’ had different opinion.

 

They wouldn’t risk it. 

 

“For Master!” The felines meowed, and not only did I get the clingy little cat-girl hugging my waist, but so did Miwah and Tama. Narita wasn’t stopped, though she didn’t make an attempt to cross the unseen threshold. 

 

Ekaterina drew - or rather formed - a blade, testing the invisible border, but she so far managed only to cut some of the creeping plants. 

 

The bear girl would test it, I recalled that even the ‘Lady’ wasn’t certain whether Ekaterina could or couldn’t shrug off the full might of the spell, but I stopped her: 

 

“Ekaterina, no.” I said, “There is no point.” 

 

Trying to step through it myself was enough stupidity for today. 

 

“Kitty?” I asked, but the ‘Displacer’ before us protested with the slight growl of “For … Master!” 

 

Kitty was, in fact, the ‘Warpstalker’ now, and was certainly different from the little one in front of us. I should certainly name the ‘personal Displacer’ and insist that she should keep us company at all times, but that was for later: 

 

“Could you take us where I could see it from a distance?” 

 

“For Master!” One of the ‘Displacers’ replied, reminding me of my previous worries. She was aware of my fear of heights, and was reluctant to put me through the experience.

 

“Not up in the air. Some solid ground. Cliff?” 

 

“For Master!” 

 

“That would do. Transport us now.” 

 

The cliff it was, and the ‘Displacers’, rash and impulsive as ever, overcame her hesitation quite quickly, and requiring no further convincing, she pulled us through the rifts. 

 

It wasn’t as dizzying as it once was, I was getting used to the teleport especially over short distances, but ending up on the cliff provided more than a distressing enough counterpart. 

 

I sat on the rock, with the little ‘Displacer’ cat girl on my lap, and tried to focus. Her soft body was quite warm, her clothes minimal, and her blue-ish fur soft, and I accepted her leaning on me at all times - if there was a risk of fall, she would certainly carry me to safety. 

 

Only after my other companions, and the few teleporting felines, assembled, I looked down the cliff, and into the distance. 

 

It wasn't a steep one, just high rock washed by the calm sea. Below us, a familiar cove with the overgrown scenery, and the rough, partially rocky and sandy beach surrounded by either the rock, or now impassable mutated greenery. We were there before, it was the very same beach my girls appropriated once we decided to stay near the fishing village, and the fields we were supposed to ‘bless’.

 

A ‘siege crab’ - an oversized abomination the ‘Fleshspeaker’ had created - laid overturned on its shell, his legs kicking in the air as it struggled to right itself. Stuck inside the barrier, there was no one to help him. The bat-girl circling above couldn’t land, and the other fleshy drones were likely miles away. 

 

There was no one else, but us on the cliff. 

 

Looking at the helpless construct, or the height we observed the scene from, distracted me only momentarily: 

 

There was something else on the beach.

 

And it felt strange, consuming, drowning in all my attention, allowing me to forget about everything else for the brief moment. 

 

A black casket of obsidian half-buried in the crater.

 

At least, I thought it was obsidian, I couldn’t tell from the distance, as it could easily be metal, or some other, unknown material that drew all the attention into itself.

 

It called to me in the way that defied the words to describe it. 

 

I just sat there, surrounded by my girls, and did nothing.

 

Then, finally, Nereida’s words distracted me.

 

“There is nothing more we could do, Master” 

 

“Yes?” I said, almost absentmindedly. 

 

“We could yank it away from the sea bed as it was buried, but when we throw it on the shore, it won’t break from the impact.” Nereida continued, while my stare was still fixated on the black casket: “The barrier seems to be still up, one of my sisters tested it unfortunately.” 

I finally broke away.

 

The shark-octopus girl levitated in the air to my left, the tentacles on her lower body swirled up and down, almost as if it was water which held her afloat. Her sleek body did gain a little bit of the sea's blue-green tone she didn’t have before, and unlike the other girls, she didn’t find herself clothes to wear yet, I noticed. My curious gaze helped me forget about the staring into the damn cache. 

 

She levitated herself in front of me. 

 

Her range was enormous, I realised, larger than the spell that protected the artefact, even if it required water to work, but the container was sturdier than that. After all, there was a small crater out there.   

 

“Couldn’t you reach from behind the barrier to crack it?” I asked

 

“We could try to flood the beach to launch it further, Master.” The octopus girl suggested, but I scratched the cat girl on my lap and shrugged: 

 

“No. There is no point.” I said, pausing, then thought aloud: “We can’t teleport it to slam it against the ground to break the container…” 

 

“For Master!” The ‘Displacer’ confirmed, the barrier was very clearly intended to deny us access. 

 

“How far does the barrier reach?” I asked, looking around, trying to get some bearing on the actual barrier size. 

 

“This is the farthest we could go, Master.” The octopus said, floating a little bit to the side to point towards two of her smaller kin, levitating themselves above the mild waves, occasionally forming jets of water towards the mysterious black casket, and the trapped crab construct. 

 

It was several hundred metres away, and though the power my new aquatic followers wielded was impressive, their improvised water projectiles only barely reached towards the still unreachable treasure, showering it with the droplets of water suggesting that there is the upper limit to how far their magic could reach. 

 

“... but you were able to get it that far?” 

 

“Yes, Master.” She said, disappointed, and perhaps a little bit ashamed: “It was fully submerged back then…” 

 

I paused, thinking. 

 

“You launching it from the waters’ depths actually reduced the influence you have on it!” 

 

“Yes, Master.” She confirmed, “We would attempt the flooding…” 

 

Ah, I finally understood where was she headed, and it felt like a pointless endeavour.

 

“...and it survived under the water for who knows how long, as well as your attempt to yeet it to the beach. It won’t crack no matter how much you toss it..” 

 

“Yes, Master,” Nereida confirmed, and looked away. There were other of her kin, at the sea, but they also kept away from the invisible shield, and even though there was an option of some creative interplay between their kin and the ‘Warpstalker’ allowing us to crack the mysterious casket with the sheer force of impact, there was no guarantee it would turn off the magical barrier as well. If anything, it would move it to the place where it could do the most harm. 

 

The ‘Corruptors’ beachside retreat was probably as effective as any quarantine we could put on the object, if not better. After all, everything was already in place. 

 

“We need to shut that damn barrier down first…” I said, and admitted:  “I just don’t know how.” 

 

The only person knowing how those things were secured was the ‘Lady’ and she was still out. 

 

Considering my options, I thought there may be a priestess in some other coastal town, one who was renewing the barrier again and again, possibly as their hereditary duty, but I rejected that. As far as we know, we torched the closest shrine down, yet the magical wards keeping the scroll secure still held. As much as I assumed that the human magic was dependent on the actions of their clergy, the one tied to the scroll cache seems to be independent. 

 

It wasn't an illogical assumption. If the dragons wanted to keep this away from the prying eyes and grabby hands of the humans, making the wards independent on the whim of their own followers did make a certain amount of sense. . 

 

“Did we find anything that would look like the key in the town?” I asked, musing that if the temple out there held the key to the box, it would be quite a reason for the defenders to fight us after all. 

 

“No, Master.” Miwah confirmed, sitting next to me, with the little ‘Displacer’ clinging to her as well. 

 

“There must be something we don’t see.” 

 

“There is another stave, Master.” Ekaterina said suddenly, “We just found it. Similar one to one I absorbed…” 

 

“Oh….” 

 

Yes, I recalled it. The very presence of the enchanted gold, or similar metal, in the original stave hurt us greatly, and it was completely inimical to our presence, even after its owner had perished. This is how they did it. The object could be enchanted, we encountered the sword, the stave, even the armour, and they did the same thing to the scroll’s sarcophagus! 

 

“One of my sisters could take it…” 

 

Unfortunately, I didn’t quite understand the rules of the magic, and their limits. 

 

“No…” I rejected the idea, “You sealed yourself back then. I don’t know how to undo it again. We lucked out back then.” 

 

It must be something else. 

 

Although the idea of the key wasn’t unreasonable, a mechanical device made of metal would likely rust away due to the sea water exposure ages ago, so rather than something technological, like a lock, there was likely a magical equivalent. So far, however, the human magic only worked where the appropriate intermediary was in range. 

 

“We got all the priestesses nearby, didn’t we?” 

 

Then it struck me, as the ‘siege crab’ abandoned on its beach still continued with its futile struggle to regain its footing.  

 

“Are there any glyphs on the container?” 

 

“We don’t know…” 

 

“Get Arke on the line.” I ordered - even though the term wasn’t quite fitting, “Transport the smaller humanoid drones to the area, or even the crabs, and carry them in by the water….” 

 

“Master?” 

 

“Equip them with picks, or whatever could damage the stone, or metal.” I said, “We have to try to damage any writing on the container. It probably works like that damn trap rune…” 

 

There was no way to tell whether it indeed worked that way, after all my understanding how the local magic worked was practically non-existent, aside of the fact it was tied to just a small, restricted caste of individuals - practically, clergy - selected by the dragons. The magic usually didn’t survive the death of the caster.

 

The items holding the power were more exceptional than the norm. 

 

“You could bring a stave near, try if it opens the casket, but if it doesn’t work a brute force seems to be the only solution.” 

 

“Yes, Master.” my girls answered, and directed her sisters and cousin to work. 

 

A few more ‘Fleshspeakers’ and ‘Overseers’ came over, even a ‘Mutator’ was buzzing above us, and the unseen barrier, while the puppeteered humans, and animals, swarmed the beach side. 

 

The poor mutated crab was helped back on its legs, but rescuing the trapped and overturned fleshy construct was so far the only success we had within the barrier. 

 

First, the few zombified humans shambled around, clumsily trying to find the way to open the black stone box, fooling with the recovered stave to no avail, frustrating both me and their ‘Fleshspeaker’ controllers to the extreme, leaving us with no clue how to proceed. 

 

“Well?” I asked, watching the entire performance from a distance. 

“They don’t know how it works.” Miwah observed, while the next ‘Displacer’ rift brought in Arke’s remote to talk us through the process.

 

“No keyhole?” 

 

“No, Master.” She answered, without prompt, her voice sounding from her ‘brain-bug’ as it crawled its way atop of the rock. 

 

“Describe it to me.” 

 

“The box is completely sealed, Master.” Arke continued, while the fleshy puppets down on the beach continued their almost comical scramble around the black casket. 

 

“It is made from two pieces. There is a lid, but no handle.”

 

“Yes…” 

 

“The surface is covered by writing…” 

 

“Could you read it?” 

 

“No. It seems to be the same symbols that were harming our cousins…” 

 

She described the sarcophagus of the black, volcanic stone, seemingly untouched by the erosion, covered by the writing she couldn’t read, despite the fact she puppeteered the humans should be able to read, now, telling her meaning. Not only was there no ‘open here’ symbol, there wasn’t even a ‘danger’ sign, only the nebulous runes that supposedly held the magic in place. 

 

I wondered whether staves and magical swords and so, have their symbols, too, but that was beyond the point. 

 

A few more attempts were made, but still no luck. 

 

“A brute force it is.” I ordered, “As I said before, hammers and chisels destroy the glyphs, this hopefully disrupts the enchantment.”  

 

Agitated by the unspoken pull of the scroll within, and frustrated by our inability to simply open the box, I committed to the brute force, to destroy the surface glyphs in the attempt to destroy the barrier that held my girls at bay, preventing us from using their abilities to crack the case. 

 

The fireballs were tried, even creeping plants, but the barrier was relentless. 

 

Simple, primitive, brute force, seemed to be the only remaining option. 

 

Without the ‘Ravagers’ we were forced to rely on the zombified humans to do the job, chiselling away the hard rock, without pause or time to rest, while I waited, and waited. At least, the container wasn’t indestructible, but the work was slow. 

 

The minutes soon became hours and I still couldn’t think of anything else, absentmindedly picking at the food that the girls brought me, then leaned to Tama to watch the tides, with the persistent ‘Displacer’ still seated on my lap. 

 

As I slowly drifted to sleep in the furry embrace, the dreams of the sea came through, pulling me through to the depths in the repeating nightmare, yet this time, resisting the futile sinking feeling was easier, and the shimmering light above the waves became ever closer…

 

I jolted awake to the darkened skies, with the sun setting down above the sea. 

 

“The barrier!” 

 

“It is gone, Master.”

 

“We are almost through.” 

 

“Get me there.” 

 

The ‘Displacer’ brought us safely down on the scarred beach of rocks and sand where the casket of the black stone still laid within the impact crater, making me marvel at how sturdy the whole container was. 

 

Not only did it survive being tossed around, it resisted the chisels, and the brute force, even Kuma with her enormous strength, currently struggled to get past the sealed lid, the crowbar she created with her power breaking and the bear girl falling down on the ground in front of me. 

 

She doesn’t seem to mind the landing, as she looked up, and yawned: 

 

“Almost there, Master.” 

 

I was going to suggest a different approach, but as Ekaterina absorbed the remnants of the crowbar, a couple of ‘Corruptors’ emptied the bucket of water over the stone.

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“I have an idea, Master.” Nereida said, levitating close, leaving me rather confused as the other enthusiastic ‘Corruptor’ poured another bucket of the water on the black stone, its surface scarred with the hours of hammering. Then another, leaving me confused why this was necessary, as I saw nothing that required the cooling. 

 

When a ‘Corruptor’ splashed the water on Nereida, much to the amusement of both her, and the little lizard girl, I was convinced they were just fooling around, but before I could say anything all the liquid started to move on its own.

I gave them a questioning look. 

 

“Sorry, Master. It wasn’t necessary, but our cousins got bored.” 

 

The shark-octopus girl, still levitating in the air closer to the stone container, wiggled her tentacles almost as she tried to grapple on something intangible, and three more of her smaller sisters, almost a younger version of her if not for slightly different colour of the skin, joined her effort. 

 

When the stone began to crack I finally understood what they were going to do. 

 

The ‘Tidereavers’ could use their water to put pressure on objects, pulling them apart as long as there is water between them. 

 

They must be limited by distance … 

 

First, nothing happened, but then, the casket burst open, its lid shot towards the sea like it was shot from a cannon, splashing into the waves. 

 

The scroll, almost anticlimactically, fell out. 

 

Kuma picked it up. 

 

I was worried it would do something, but nothing happened. 

 

It unfolded before us as she lifted it. 

 

On first glance, it appeared to be a rather ordinary, unassuming piece of parchment with carved, yet somehow still mundane looking wooden roller handles on each end, and over the square metre of the writing surface almost completely filled. 

 

It was, however, where the mundane ended. Not only it seemed completely untouched by the ravages of time, its surface pristine, undamaged by the decomposition, water, or mould, there was also an unmistakable aura to the artefact, a presence which I couldn’t quite explain and describe, almost drawing me in, calling to me, like the beacon, it’s signal now clear, laid bare without further obfuscation. 

 

No one spoke.

 

I came closer, examining it.

 

The document was dominated by the large picture that somewhat resembled the astrological - or astronomical, it could be a star chart if you stretch it - diagram, with the several circles and lines forming the complex geometrical patterns, with odd descriptions, and comments made in the strange, flowing script, resembling more Arabic rather than the vaguely East Asian writing the locals had used. It looked every bit the mystical text it was supposed to be, yet there was more. 

 

The diagram, and the other smaller drawing, were covered by the scribbling made in the red ink, as opposed to black, invading the precise, measured, trigonometrical drawing of circles and lines with the red drawing of the spreading roots and foggy clouds, almost like the child drawn upon the father’s work. Yet, text accounted for it, the wavy, flowing letters almost coiled in front of my eyes like the snakes of ink, incomprehensible, yet accounted for the invasion of roots and misty clouds of ruby red. 

 

Almost like they were describing the inevitable corruption of geometric precision with the red chaos coming from the silhouette in the red mist…

 

A red mist!

 

My girls were born from the red mist. 

 

I reached towards the scroll, its unseen, mystical energies, rippled through the material, leaving a tingling sensation at the tip of my fingers. It was almost mesmerising, however, right now, I couldn’t care about the scroll’s desire of being found. 

 

The system message briefly flickered in front of my eyes, and died out, providing no explanation, and no power. 

We are rushing towards the end of days!

This scroll on the other hand has answers, at least for some of my current predicaments, I was certain of it. 

 

It could tell me why I was there. 

 

“Are we certain this isn’t written in the local tongue?” I asked, nobody in particular. 

 

It was almost comical to see the puppeteered flesh-drone  to lift the ‘brain-bug’ to inspect the writing.

 

“Moment, Master.” 

 

For a while there was silence, a few more minutes, perhaps more stretching to eternity as Arke, and the other, countless ‘Overseers’ and ‘Fleshspeakers’ sifted through the minds of their enthralled human puppets. 

 

Even Tama looked at the scroll Kuma still held up, and with the critical eye, though she didn’t say anything. 

 

“Well…” I asked, but then, the answer came from Arke’s pet monstrosity. 

 

“Master. We sifted through the minds of drones and we couldn't find anyone who could read it…” 

 

“Very well.” I decided, “Notify the sage. He was the only one who even cared about this and hasn’t been killed off…. 

 

I looked up. A sunset was upon us, but the answers, they couldn’t wait. 

 

“I want this translated as soon as possible.”