While a certain icy aquamarine gleefully played with its own slice of the world, shaping the ocean to its whims, elsewhere a few scenes played out that were, at once, both strikingly similar to Aby’s own room, and sickeningly different. Cavernous, sparsely decorated with naught but half a dozen disgustingly gaudy chairs in a semicircle facing a single man, if the meter tall winged doll could really be called a man. Behind his back, an onyx obelisk and a scarlet beryl sphere, physically radiating power.

The crimson winged pixie was giving an icy glare to the five Fae before him, waiting for even one of them to dare speak before addressing him. In his hand, a notebook, sturdy papyrus bound loosely together, already well worn despite how new it was. Every one of them had read it, front to back, enough that they could recite it by heart. That they could accomplish this in the mere hours since getting the book was only thanks to their natural gifts and trained talents, but not one of them was pleased with what they had read. Finally, the standing pixie spoke.

“Well? Does nobody have any thoughts after Savid had to excuse himself?” All six gave a pointed look towards the empty chair, with various amounts of confusion and disgust evident on their features. “I suppose I should speak first, then.” He sighed, his fury rapidly morphing into resignation.

“We were unprepared, grossly, disgustingly so, and we have let an unbound High Dungeon grow without restraint. Moreso, we have not a clue how it managed this pace, nor have we any real understanding of what is under its command. Whatever it has done, whatever it is doing, we are too late to correct.” He took a moment, and a female pixie, bright green spoke up.

“Are you sure that it’s even unbound? What if some outside party has been feeding it, or it stumbled upon something untapped that let it grow far faster than it should? It seems too smart to be alone…” The man nodded at this statement, but still wore a mask of concern.

“Smart, helped, or lucky. It really doesn’t matter in the end, does it? It’s too late for it to bend the knee to us, and that means there’s really one thing left for us to do, is there not?” No one could voice any objections to that, taking a final glance at the booklet in the Pixie’s hand before he tossed it aside, and finally took a seat on his own ebony throne.

“And so, how do we propose we do it?” That seemed to be the question that broke the rest of this council from its silence, and suddenly, there was a battle for who could be heard the most. As the atmosphere heated up, so too did the core itself, the ruby red beryl thrumming along in tandem with the discussion its owner was having.

~~~

On the subject of battles, however, a much more literal one was shaping up somewhere far removed. A once immaculate silvered throne room had been tossed into disarray as a petulant child argued with his mother. The azure Faerie had read through the Mapper’s journal for all of three minutes before he had decided, then and there, that he would depart for the reef, and make that Dungeon his. After all, the boy was well aware he deserved nothing but the best, and if an aquatic High Dungeon, not even a yearling and already twenty floors and three bosses deep, was not the best, then even his mother’s own was insignificant.

Meanwhile, the matriarch in question was furious. It wasn’t enough that her youngest son managed to make a fool of himself, and when the others on the Council had found out they made very sure that she never lived it down, he simply wouldn’t stop. The rest of her children had already bound a core, some of them already at their fiftieth floors before a single decade, but the boy refuses to listen, to bind the aquatic core in a swamp they had recently found. No, that simply wasn’t good enough for her little prince, instead he felt the need to try and bind an Aberrant, and it was just as likely that his presence would only spark it into turning Rogue and getting a taste for Faeries.

But that alone was not enough for her wonderchild, no, it had to also be in the middle of a Mana Reef, and he seemed dumbfoundingly sure that no, all the hundreds of Fae before him that had died in a myriad horrible and fascinating ways were just not doing it right. That he’d have it all figured out, and would march triumphantly into the dungeon, ignoring the fact it was still underwater, bypass the angry fish, boiling waters, eldritch horrors, and dragons as if they would simply acknowledge their new overlord.

No matter how much she reiterated that he would not go to Hynix, that the chance he had to bind the Reef Dungeon was long gone because of his monumental failures and the fact that it was too late anyways, he wouldn’t cease his incessant whining, resorting to thrashing her core room. That had been the last straw for the testy queen, and she had stopped talking then and there, her expression returning to neutral so fast that her earlier anger seemed like a lie.

And then he made it worse. “Finally, I knew you’d see it my way, mother. I’ve already gathered a few servants from some of your Vassal Caves, for when I set off. All I needed was for you to listen.” He turned, already on his way to depart as though she had waved him off with a smile and told him to visit when he inevitably wraps Hynix around his finger.

But there were no words of departure waiting for him. Instead, with all the motherly love of a starving shark, she spoke. “Core. Stop him.” And it did. As though already waiting to impose its will on the nuisance who would dare treat its owner with such disrespect, a pulse of green swept out from the core, passing harmlessly over the Faerie, but not going unnoticed. His head whipped around to glare at his mother with a level of vitriol that many would never even begin to imagine possible, but there was also fear, resignation, and unwillingness at her proclamation. She had always doted on him, and rarely did they even butt heads, but never once had she outright denied him. Even with his earlier failure, she had done her best to mend his mistakes. But now…

His frantic thinking was cut short, when a low rumble and high-pitched whistle sounded out. A hissing, howling moan like a hurricane given form that only grew closer, swiftly drowning out the pleas of forgiveness aimed towards the impassive face of his mother. She rubbed her temples, wondering why she let the Council convince her that another child was a wise decision, before starting to prepare for the Fae Court that was sure to be called after the other two heads came to their own conclusions.

~~~

“Come, we have much to discuss.” A deep voice reverberated through the slate halls of the Sprite’s patriarch, a statement aimed not only at his protégé but the three Sprites that had filed in behind her, and while each towered over her, they still seemed to show some deference to her, and more specifically, the lord of this lair. To anger the owner of a dungeon was sacrilege to the Fae, and more importantly to the sprites, dreadfully impolite.

“We do, sir. Each of us has reviewed the journal of findings on the Reef Dungeon and we have come to a consensus. It is no longer a viable use of resources to attempt subjugation, and the Guilds’ representative in the area has been notified, again, that we have interest in working with him. With luck, we may hear back from him this time.”

The cyan sprite standing at the head of the group was the only one looking her mentor’s direction rather than at her own feet, and so she was the only one to notice him nodding along thoughtfully.

“My thralls speak true, sir. I apologize for my lack of… haste, in bringing this core into our fold. I’ve already begun working on finding some way to use this Aberrant to our advantage, as well as damage control should that prove impossible.”

“Very good, I can’t claim not to be disappointed in this whole affair, but my sources say that you are still adapting better than the other two clans.” He was unable to conceal the pride in his voice as he said that, and the sprite before him let a small smile creep onto her face. His praise was so very difficult to come by.

That would not mean she would bask in it, and a second later a serious look resurfaced. “What is it you would have me do now?” She asked, fiddling with a marble of amber covered gem. “Prepare yourself. There is another newborn in a swamp, to the south. It may not be as lucrative, but I trust you know what to do? I’ll finish this for you while you settle in.”

This time, her face split open, and it took all she had not to give the man a hug, or to bolt out of the door cheering. Instead, she said a few words to the Sprites behind her, and walked briskly down the hall, to her own quarters.