The Ruler of Ruin

When I stepped through the portal it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the forest I stepped into. The thick trunks of ancient trees rose in a winding spiral towards a hidden sky. No light leaked through the canopy of leaves, vines, and whatever else might be up there. From the way the hair on my arms stood up, I assumed it was Corvusol that shone down on this glade.

The ground looked more like a carpet of lush moss, interspersed with lovely beds of flowers. The appearance of the glade struck me as both manicured, but wild, primal. No garden or forest in the True World looked like this, and I had a hard time imagining the glowing purple flowers that flowered from vines attached to the trunks of trees were an accident. They provided just enough dim light for me to see by. The other major source of light floated through the air, orbs of dim radiance, wisps.

I couldn’t ignore the sense of wonder this grove caused to well up in my heart. It felt foreboding, enthralling, and alluring all at once. I wanted to look behind each tree, but also dreaded what I might find there. These woods were the sort that men entered, but never left. As inviting as the steaming pool of water with lilies floating upon it looked, it also filled me with a terrible dread. Would it age me if I touched the water? Were there fish within, waiting to devour a foolish swimmer?

“Ah-hem, please avail yourself of the bathing pool, the food we have set out, or take a nap in the bed of forget-me-nots. Lady Sadow will summon you when she has time for you.”

It wasn’t Amaranthine’s voice that drew my attention, instead it was a woman with green hair, brown skin, who wore a dress woven of flowers and leaves. A dryad. I had heard many legends about dryads, but this one looked a lot like the winding, twisting trees that climbed up into the sky. I had never met a dryad before, but she seemed powerful, despite the non-threatening visage she presented.

“If you have needs or questions, my name is Liora, and I will be taking care of you during your stay in the glade. I will answer your questions freely and without recompense, and any food I bring you is a present from Lady Sadow, not a debt between us.” That Liora had to say that at all reminded me of the troubled nature of Fey.

“Thank you, Liora,” I offered with a small smile. The Dryad tilted her head, and studied my tooth filled maw. I had a plethora of questions I wanted to ask. Where was Amaranthine? Why did they expect me to bathe? What was this place? Where was Amaranthine? Okay, so I wanted to ask that one very badly. She shouldn’t make a deal to get me for a time limit, and then not be here. It was rude, and made the anxiety I felt about seeing her again grow larger.

“Simply call my name to summon me if you require something, Lord Emery.” The dryad flicked her eyes to the pool repeatedly, as if she were trying to communicate with me that the pool was important and of the highest priority. Then she simply stepped into a tree and was gone. Was she inside of the tree, or did she have some kind of teleportation abilities tied to plants?

I sniffed the air, making full use of my enhanced sense of smell. A pungent scent layered with metals, dirt, sweat, and blood filled my nostrils. I couldn’t even smell the earthen notes of the mosses, or the sweet scent of flowers. How long had it been since I last bathed in Schieferon?

Was this a trap, or did Fey have a custom about not smelling like a mine? I sat on the mossy ground, and considered what I should do. The soft sounds of water, the gentle breeze between the trees, the ruffle of leaves, all lulled me into a serene state. After a few minutes I could feel my eyes growing heavy and checked the pouches of my belt for the reward that Arx Maxima had mentioned.

Azazel’s Wyrmscale Armor.

My pulse quickened when I saw the name Azazel. The mask had given me the dragonhead I now had. Would this transform more of my body? The power of the Mask of Azazel couldn’t be understated, it had been powerful enough to turn a dragon fang spear’s blow into a minor wound, instead of a lethal blow. How much more powerful would the suit of armor be? I could try my new armor on, see what happens, and then take a bath?

If I was wrong about what would happen, my new armor would get a little smelly, but that could be solved with a little oil, a few flowers, and a cloth.

I withdrew the box from the Belt of Diana, and a single scale appeared in my hand. It was black, flushed with purple, similar to the colors that Chrys had altered the Mask of Azazel to be. Had Arx Maxima already had Chrys attune the item to me? When would she have done that?

It didn’t matter. I stared at the scale, until a mental image flowed through my mind. I needed to hold the scale against my chest, and let a drop of my blood touch it. Why the difference between this, and the way the Mask had bound to me? Perhaps the strange curse proof box Granix had put the Mask in altered the bindings? Or maybe Chrys’s Morphic Resonance proto-bound the item to me, and now I had to complete the binding?

I formed a lot of speculative ideas about why this needed to be, but in the end, I opted to use one of the sharp spikes on my forehead to prick my finger, and let my blood drop onto the scale and held it up to my chest.

Almost immediately the scale seemed to unfold into a network of more scales, a sphere of scales that surrounded me and closed in. When they pressed against my skin, the feeling I had endured with the Mask of Azazel returned. It felt like acid and lava had been poured over me simultaneously, skin and soft flesh melted and bubbled as the scales took a new shape. Unlike the first time, the entirety of my body was transformed and it allowed me to feel my bones reshape themselves.

Azazel’s Wyrmscale Armor activation in progress.

Link with Mask of Azazel…. completed.

Link with Belt of Diana….. completed.

It hurt, but it also felt wonderful. The small things that had always bothered me about my body were broken and reforged. The tendons and bones of my feet were obliterated and reformed into a new structure. No longer did the dull ache of a muscle above my foot pester me, no more tightness in my shoulder where my arm met the cuff. All the aches, pains, and annoyances were obliterated, shattered, or scraped away and replaced with a better skeletal system.

How had I missed the liberating freedom of this experience the first time? Oh, right, I didn’t know it’d happen and was in full panic mode. This time, the experience nearly felt sacred as I became something greater. When the experience ended I was taller, my neck longer, my hands ended in claws rather than fingernails. I had a tail. Every inch of my body now lay concealed beneath black scales, with a blush of purple shading. The back of my knuckles showed some golden ornamentation around the knuckles and joints, similar to what Chrys had described on my face.

I was an honest to goodness dragon-man. Well, I didn’t have any wings, but my body had changed. The length and shape of my legs had changed, my torso lengthened, my neck elongated, my arms elongated. I felt stronger, faster, but most of all, I felt durable. I hit myself in the chest, and I barely felt it, even when I tried again harder.

Azazel’s Wyrmscale Armor activation complete.

A few problems had arisen, though. I forgot to take my old bodysuit and boots off before I initiated the process, and they had been destroyed in the transformation. The Belt of Diana remained around my hips, unharmed. I supposed the link information I had seen scroll through my vision in the Mask of Azazel did say they were connected. To each other? To me?

Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub.

I could feel two hearts beating in my chest, and the realization short-circuited my mind.

When I finally shifted my eyes around the glade, the count-down in my vision told me an hour had gone by since I started the process, and that I had 70 hours and 34 minutes left in the domain of Amaranthine before she would take us to Claire. Would Claire even believe I was me? I looked very different now.

Even my equipment down there had changed. I jumped into the pool of water. It felt relaxing, invigorating, and it smelled amazing. The water had captured the fragrance of some of the lilies, or perhaps the dryads infused other flowers into it? Scents of flowers, moss, fresh water, and damp earth filled my nostrils when I surfaced my head above the water.

My sensation of touch hadn’t changed too dramatically with my fingertips, but I could now touch my face without worrying about stabbing myself accidentally. If I pushed hard enough against my teeth, spikes, or horns I could pierce my hand now, but accidents seemed nearly impossible. A small quality of life upgrade. More than having two hearts, scales, a new skeletal system, the strangest thing was having a tail. With quick adjustments I could provide perfect counter-balance to my body. The possibilities of the tail intrigued me, and it felt strong. At least as strong as a leg. Tempting as it was to attack a tree with my tail, I refrained.

I didn’t want to be a rude guest, and destroying trees in a forest with at least one dryad certainly seemed ill-mannered at the least, and cruel at best.

I floated in the pool, my nudity hidden by water lilies.

“Uh, hey, Liora? I maybe sort of ruined my clothes, I don’t suppose I could prevail upon the unprecedented grace of Lady Amaranthine for a spare outfit?” I asked the trees.

Awkward silence filled the glade. I watched the minutes tick down on my timer. Twenty five minutes later, Liora stepped out of a tree with a diaphanous black silk set of trousers and a button up shirt.

“Do you require help with the buttons, my lord?” Liora asked from her position a few feet away from the pool. I swear she tried to sneak a peak at what my new dragon-man body packed down stairs, the way she gave me a coy smile and stared at me.

“No, no, I can handle that much myself, thank you.” I didn’t have to worry about blushing anymore. My face still heated up a little, oddly enough, but black scales didn’t turn red because you were embarrassed.

“Lady Amaranthine bid me tell you that tracking the Mistwalker is taking slightly more effort than she anticipated, and she will see you when the business is concluded. Until that time, please, relax here. Do you need anything to help pass the time? We have minstrels, a plethora of appetizer options, and a wide array of creatures to hunt or test yourself against.” Liora could have been a maid at the palace of Crownhaven if she weren’t a fey whom you had to look for hidden meanings behind every word and action.

Or did I have to look for that? Were all Fey like that? Would Amaranthine’s subordinates risk the wrath of their mistress? I didn’t know the answer, and that bothered me.

“No, I’m good, thank you Liora.” I dismissed her, and she coyly tried to sneak a peek at me in the water one last time before she stepped into a tree. Once gone, I hopped out of the water. My new tail’s strength was enough to help me practically burst from the water onto the ground, where a towel lay next to the black clothes Liora had left behind for me.

I dressed myself in the clothing, and admired the way it fit me perfectly. The not quite opaque shirt showed off my muscular, scaly body beneath it, but the pants at least were opaque. The moment I put the shirt on and saw it would be as see through as I feared, I had terrible mental images of me walking around exposing myself to everyone, but that wasn’t the case. It was a strange thing to be relieved about, I suppose, but it also felt like a touch of normality in the sea of madness that my life had become.

I fell asleep on a bed of flowers, exhausted after the extermination of the Scavs, the long twenty some hour walk to the spire. It was as if the nap I’d taken aboard Arx Maxima hadn’t even happened and the refreshed effect from it had been illusory. Or perhaps the draining transformation into whatever race it was Azazel had been (if he’d even been this race to start and not designed the equipment to make him this way) exhausted me far more than I realized.

I dreamed of pools, Amaranthine, and peeking dryads under a sky that churned with the beautiful annihilation of Katrina.