Legend / Triumphs

Kiiraskes stank strongly of sea-grass and sunsoak root [1]. I took care to sit toward the front of the watercraft, but the odor wrestled powerfully against the wind.

I did my best to focus on the task I had been given, which was to mix the contents of three flasks into a fourth. I prided myself on the steadiness of my hands, and the work was not so difficult that I couldn't steal glimpses of our route.

We followed the river as it skirted the sprawling residential districts, then turned and cut toward the listing sun. I watched the crowds thin as canal-side markets gave way to orderly arrays of residential towers and aerial traffic, then to radiating lines of transport arterials, waterways, and roads, connecting each of Riis's great cities to one another in a shimmering network.

We passed lines of pilgrims making their way to the site where the Great Machine first came to Riis, the hill at the heart of Riis-Ath-Lodrii. I saw high priests of the House of Dancers, devoted clerics who gorge themselves past satiation on Ether until they tower above their peers, then amputate their lower arms in ritual supplication to the Great Machine.

It was strange to see those shambling giants. But there was something awe-inspiring in it. The shuffling march of hundreds, unified in purpose.

Kiiraskes followed my gaze, then spat audibly into the water. "Fanaticism is what landed us in the wars. Fanaticism, pride, and Ether-thirst."

I looked at her. "You were in the Edge Wars?"

Kiiraskes hissed. "I have no war stories for you, hatchling." She gestured toward the flasks. "If this is serious, you should be prepared."

"And if it truly is only an animal?"

"You should still learn how to mix a tonic on the go. Don't drop that."





The farms of the House of Rain were among the most splendid on all of Riis, and the quadrant assigned to Baron Haaksis was no exception. There were great swathes of forest, carefully hemmed and controlled, arranged neatly around crop fields.

It could not have been done without the machines.

Baron Haaksis had a fleet of them: small, autonomous drones that moved about planting, harvesting, and measuring Ether uptake. The sound of their toil was that of wind across grassland. A thousand small tasks undertaken without rest or complaint.

For all this, the farm was strangely absent of workers. There should have been at least a few machine-tenders, monitoring the proceedings and providing maintenance and direction. Nor did any guards come to meet us as I lashed the watercraft to the dock.

We stepped out onto sun-fed walkways braced by beautiful, leafy plants. Kiiraskes pointed to the bags of supplies, and in my eagerness to prove my strength, I gathered all of them. They were very heavy, and by the time I managed to follow Kiiraskes to Haaksis' doorstep, I felt as if I were pinned to the earth.





Considering the lush abundance that surrounded it, the round building where Haaksis kept his office was sparse and joyless. The sole decoration was two twin sets of blades he kept on one wall: a memento of the Edge Wars. I had seen dozens like them throughout my upbringing, only some of them genuine.

More interesting was the drone on his desk, which Haaksis seemed to be in the process of repairing. It was a hybrid reconnaissance-defense drone called a "Shank," the kind that became popular during the war. Not many Eliksni still possessed them in peacetime. But such an interest suited a noble like Haaksis.

Haaksis was dressed in the rich hues of Rain. He was of a height with Kiiraskes, if slighter in build, and stiff in his bearing.

I bowed low and formally, feeling the weight of my House-less status. Kiiraskes reached out and lifted me bodily upright by the carapace with no more difficulty than she might have plucked a flowering plant.

"I sent for Slayers," Haaksis said. He looked at me, and I felt my shell itch.

Kiiraskes spread her hands, untroubled. "So we've come. The House of Judgment mentioned an animal."

"No. I told them… I told them many times. This is not an animal," Haaksis said. At his sides, his claws clenched into fists, one after the other. "It is an old evil."

I looked up at Kiiraskes but found no sign of her thoughts. Her mandibles clicked quietly. "You've seen it?"

Haaksis sagged then, as if already weary of conversation. "It attacked my people. I tried to recover the bodies, but… And then the House of Judgment took its time—"

"Do you know where it is now?"

"No. Nothing can hide on this farm without the sensors tracking it. The forest tracts are just as well-tended. But there is a Garden-Way [2], between… we were letting that grow, re-wild for a few cycles…"

"We'll track it down," Kiiraskes said. "Tell me where the bodies are."

I felt relieved to hear her speak of us as "we." But the feeling didn't last long. Even as he brought up the displays and maps to guide Kiiraskes, Haaksis kept staring in my direction, and I realized he did not expect me to survive.



[1. Sea-grass seems straightforward enough, but I found few other references to "sunsoak root." Does it absorb Light?]
[2. A space around farmland where the local flora and fauna are left to grow naturally. These were carefully maintained, so you couldn't really call them wild.]

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