Chapter 149: Silver Eggs

Crow pushed the door open to the dungeons beneath the castle. Marek and the others stood looking over a large pit, an ancient rudimentary, albeit effective, prison cell.

“Looks like we made it,” Crow said.

“Indeed,” Lysaila nodded behind him.

They walked over to the edge of the pit, next to Marek and the others.

“Just in time. Our men finished chaining up the Mora family a few moments ago,” Marek pointed at the soldiers climbing the rope at the side of the pit.

“The little Moras?” Lysaila glanced down at the pit.

Lord Mora and his family were chained to the walls by both their hands. A bundle of over a dozen silver eggs the size of a small dog sat snug in the center of the pit floor.

“Yes, Nokuti found it poetic that the Moras are sacrificed first in their own castle. Death given for new life. I agreed with her,” Marek nodded.

“Bit dramatic,” Crow shrugged.

“I think it fits perfectly. We are witnessing the end of an age,” Dawn said solemnly.

“End of an age? Now that’s dramatic,” Crow laughed.

“My sister was just being poetic,” Vaughn said.

“Your sister can be as poetic as she likes, so long as I can keep hearing her beautiful voice,” Kyriil winked.

“Elves,” Dawn rolled her violet eyes in disgust.

Kyriil frowned and gripped his chest, “That hurts, more than getting beat up by that dark elf woman ever did.”

“Who’s dramatic now?” Nokuti shook her head.

“Look, the eggs are shaking!” The axlean, Grim, pointed.

Everyone stopped talking and stared down into the pit. The silver eggs were beginning to move, at first, it was a small twitch, then a wobble, and then full-on lurching from side to side.

“What are those!?” The eldest Mora son yelled.

“What’s in the damn eggs!?” The eldest Mora daughter screamed.

“Please, help us!” The youngest Mora son cried.

Lord Mora tried to yell, but only a gurgle came out from his tongueless mouth.

One of the eggs fell over and rolled away from the rest. It kept rolling until it stopped a few feet from the eldest daughter. She tried backing away, there was nowhere to go. The silver egg cracked, a piece of shell broke off the top. A small pale grey snout poked out. The little mouth opened partially and took quick shallow breaths.

Everyone grew very quiet. The egg suddenly cracked down the middle and fell apart in two halves. A small hatchling fell to the ground in a mess of egg fluids. It banged its jaw on the cold stone floor and cried in surprise, its tail flinging around wildly.

The baby Unildyr was only 6 inches long. At a further inspection, Marek noticed the hatchling’s skin wasn’t pale grey but a smoky translucent with grey muscles underneath. Two little black nubs for horns sat atop its tiny skull. Five sharp translucent claws protruded out of each small chubby paw. The hatchling licked one of its paws with a long black tongue.

The hatchling’s eyes were two ebon black orbs, an inner clear eyelid swept past the dark eyes similar to a lizard. It glanced at its surroundings for a moment, before it sat down on its haunches and yawned, revealing a row of sharp petite fangs. Mora’s eldest daughter tried moving her hands, but the manacles held tight. The hatchling ignored her, its attention occupied with licking itself clean.

“Huh, it’s kinda cute,” Kyriil cocked his head to the side.

The Mora daughter narrowed her eyes and channeled orange mana into her legs. She kicked the air, a plume of flame burst out and engulfed the unaware hatchling. The fire diffused around the hatchling’s body, waves of orange light swept across its translucent skin before being absorbed into its body. Two faint specks of white light formed at the center of its black eyes.

“What just happened?” Marek frowned.

“It… absorbed the flame spell. It's as if the hatchling was using an advanced grey drain spell-form,” Grim muttered.

“No, drain spells require direct contact and can only absorb mana in its natural pure state. Drain magic cannot absorb spells. This is something entirely else,” Vaughn shook his head.

The Mora daughter threw out another flame spell, the flames diffused over the hatchling again. The baby Unildyr turned its head towards the woman. It pounced at her with blinding speed and sank its fangs into her neck. The vampiress screamed a hollow sound as the hatchling ate away at her throat.

Blood pooled over her body as she spasmed uncontrollably. The hatchling’s translucent claws sank through her flesh and bone with ease and ripped open her chest cavity. The Unildyr buried its head inside and began devouring her heart. The eldest Mora daughter’s head fell limp as her body was ravaged.

“Oh gods, what the fuck!? Not cute, not cute at all!” Kyriil yelled.

“What have we released into this world?” Nokuti covered her mouth in shock.

The other Mora children screamed in terror and tried their best to fling whatever magic they could at the small creature. The hatchling’s translucent skin shined brightly in all sorts of colors as the spells dispersed on its skin. The baby was unaware it was even being attacked as it kept eating the internal organs of the woman.

One Mora son managed to create a sharp jagged rock by spell-casting a stone spell with his foot. He launched the projectile at the hatchling’s back. The sharp edge glanced off the baby’s skin harmlessly before crumbling to dust, the green mana absorbed effortlessly.

“It’s durable,” Marek’s eyes widened.

“I doubt even Lysaila’s enchanted blade could manage to scratch an Unildyr’s skin,” Crow noted.

The other eggs began to crack open, small hatchlings falling out. Most of them looked around and were busy exploring their own claws and tail. One of the babies ran straight to Lord Mora and shredded his chest with its sharp translucent claws.

Lord Mora screamed a hoarse wretched noise. Two other hatchlings looked over and ran to join their sibling in the feast. One of them jumped on top of Lord Mora’s face and bit out his eyes, the other raked its claws over his torso. Marek watched in surprise at the speed they devoured the vampire lord, devouring his innards in just mere moments.

“All my instincts are screaming at me to run away and not look back,” Lysaila swallowed.

“And these are just babies?” Kyriil asked with wide eyes.

“They’re incredible, they could destroy Hollow Shade,” Marek said in awe.

“They’re horrifying,” Nokuti grimaced.

“Just wait until they grow wings,” Dawn murmured.

“How did the dragons ever manage to defeat such monsters?” Grim asked quietly.

Crow stared at the hatchlings as they devoured the magi. “They didn’t.”

~~~

Maeve sat on a bale of hay, wrapped in a warm blanket, inside the Ghost Flame’s stables. The ship was still near the docks, waiting, hoping, for their mistress, Loh Noir, to arrive safely.

Maeve glanced at Stryg, he was still sitting on the floor next to Rhian. It had been almost two hours and he hadn’t moved once.

The sailors had brought blankets and a new set of clothes for Rhian. A white mage healer had even come by, but she said that white healing spells could do nothing to warm up a cold body, the most she could do was mend Rhian’s bruises and cuts.

Chromatic orange’s flame spell-form wouldn’t be of much use either, its capabilities were too narrow. They needed a fire elemental caster. Elemental magic was far more diverse and could manipulate something as precise as heat. The problem was they were in the Ebon Realm, fire elemental magic was scarce; there were no fire elemental magi and the only innate magic users were the rare and dangerous fire drakes who lived deep in the Rupture Mountains.

Still, Rhian seemed to be improving, albeit slowly.

Maeve cleared her throat, “Um, Stryg?”

He didn’t respond.

“Stryg?”

His head slowly craned up, “Huh?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, ever since this morning.”

“Oh…” His eyes never left Rhian.

Maeve twiddled her thumbs, “Do you, um, are you, uh, an owl?”

“...What?” Stryg glanced at her with a tired gaze.

“Oh, ahaha, I mean… Ahem, do you know anything about owls?”

“Like the bird?”

“Yes, like the bird,” she nodded vigorously.

“A bit, some of the Sylvan goblins would occasionally spot them flying around the Rupture Mountains.”

“You’ve been to the Rupture Mountains? Isn’t that really dangerous?” She rubbed her arms, “And cold?”

Stryg stared at his claws, “Only the deep parts of the mountains are really dangerous and Vulture Woods can be just as dangerous. But, no, I haven’t been. The mountains span across the eastern side of the Realm and Vulture Woods borders the southern tip of the mountain range where the mountains aren’t nearly as cold. When the Sylvan tribes gather at Moon Fang mountain they sometimes see an owl, but owls are more common up north past Vulture Woods and Glimmer Grove.”

“Why would Sylvan goblins go into the Rupture Mountains on purpose?”

Stryg scratched the floor with his claw, carving out a small crevice in the wood. “Moon Fang mountain has served as the meeting place of the Sylvan tribes since the beginning of our people. The great Sylvan tribunal, the Lunar Elect, also resides there. More importantly, our most sacred temple to Lunae sits at the very top of the mountain.”

“The tribes gather at the mountain once a year to pay their respects to Lunae and to have the Lunar Elect settle any tribal disputes. I would have gone too, once I became an adult, but things didn’t work out.”

“Exile, right?” Maeve winced.

“What’s your point with all these questions?” Stryg sighed.

“Sorry, I got sidetracked. What I want to ask is… Ah, well, heh, I don’t know how to say this…” Maeve clapped her own cheeks and took a deep breath, “Okay, here goes. I have dreams, not regular dreams, we all have that, right? Hehe.”

Stryg narrowed his eyes.

Maeve winced, “What I mean is, I have special dreams. Well, more like nightmares. I always have nightmares, but sometimes mine are special. Sometimes, the things I see in my dreams, later happen in real life.”

“Are you telling me you can see the future?”

“Well, when you put it like that… I guess? Sometimes? I’m not really sure how any of this works…”

“Hm, okay,” Stryg nodded.

Maeve frowned, “Wait, that’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you going to question me? Call me crazy?”

“Why?” Stryg tilted his head.

“Because I told you something impossible, insane even!”

He stared into her eyes, “I’ve seen many things I thought impossible since coming to Hollow Shade. I don’t see why this is any different. More importantly, I trust you.”

Maeve felt her cheeks grow warm, her eyes began to burn.

“Are you alright?” Stryg asked, a trace of concern in his tired voice.

“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t think anyone’s ever ever told me that,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Oh,” he blinked.

She sniffed and stared at the ceiling, “Anyway, in every dream that came true, there were always a few common factors. One of them was an owl. I didn’t know what to think of it, mostly because I have a hard time remembering my dreams.”

“Yeah, I can never remember my dreams either,” he nodded.

“The owl in my dreams, it had lilac eyes like yours… I think you are the owl in my dreams.”

“I’m not a bird.”

“Ugh, I know that. I didn’t mean literally. I think the owl represents you, kinda? I’m not sure how any of this works. I had one of these dreams last night. My house was burning and people died. There was this giant blue snake and the owl fought it. The ballroom’s prime chandelier fell on me and the owl saved me. Ring any bells?”

“My back still hurts from the chandelier falling on me,” Stryg rolled his shoulders painfully.

“I told you, you should let the white mage take a look at your back,” Maeve crossed her arms.

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Come morning there won’t even be a bruise,” he shook his head.

“Wow, that’s unexpected. Stryg… there was something weird about one of my dreams,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“I had one dream that was different from all others. Everything just froze and there was this weird… thing, that talked to me. I couldn’t see it, the room was too dark. It knew I was dreaming and acted as if it wasn’t part of my dream. That’s when the owl came, grabbed me by the shoulders, and flew me out of my house,” she bit her lip.

“I clearly never did that.”

“Right, but I woke up that night with claw marks on my shoulders from where the owl grabbed me.”

Stryg furrowed his brow, “You were hurt?”

“I didn’t think my dreams could hurt me. I didn’t think they could affect the real world, I wasn’t sure what was happening. Then you told me about the small girl you saw in the castle. The description you told me, it was me, when I was a little girl. Whenever I dream I’m always that little girl again.”

Maeve hopped off the bundle of hay and sat down next to him. “I don’t know how, but I think maybe we're somehow connected?”

Stryg stayed quiet, mulling over her words. “So, what now? Are we in danger?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t know anything, that is what is so frustrating,” she clenched her fists.

Stryg’s ear twitched. “Maximus?”

He shot to his feet and ran out the stable doors. Maeve called out after him, he ignored her and kept running past the sailors walking outside. His feet smacked the deck loudly with each step. He ran to the edge of the ship and searched the waters of the raging Dire River.

He could barely hear it, but it was there, a faint voice past the storm’s howling winds.

~~~

Maximus kicked the freezing waters underneath him and pushed water past him with his burly arms. A giant wave slammed into them, sending Loh and him deep into the water. He gritted his teeth and pushed his numb body upwards, each stroke getting him closer to the surface. Loh gripped onto his back and held on for dear life.

The water roared in his ears and the cold felt like needles stabbing into his skin. Maximus burst through the water with a wild roar of his own. He glanced around, the burning docks and the Ghost Flame were no longer in sight, all he could see were waves circling all around him.

Maximus took a deep shivering breath and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Stryg! If you’re out there, we need help! Stryg!”