The Newt and Demon-8.79 - Seriously, More Eggs

“An egg?” Tresk asked, scratching her head. “What the hell is he doing with an egg?”

The projected image lingered there in the portal, but no matter how long Theo watched Fenian perform his feats of valor, he couldn’t figure out what the egg was for. “No living things exist in Death’s Gate, right?” he asked.

“Correct. He brought it from outside,” Death said. “Despite this information, I don’t know what he’s doing with it.”

“Drop the temporal field,” Theo said, clearing his throat after he remembered who he was talking to. “Please drop the field. I’d like to see if anything changes on his end.”

Death smiled, waving a lazy hand through the air. “He’s had the egg for a while. Things might not change as quickly as you think.”

“Kinda looks like a dragon egg,” Tresk said.

Theo shared a look with his companion. They didn’t need words, and without uttering another sound, the marshling folded the void on itself. The pair shared a few choice thoughts, some of concern, and others of interest. For now, the alchemist would temper his expectations. Depending on what Fenian’s plan was, this could be interesting. It could also be horrific, holding a lot of negative impacts for their relationship with the dragons.

“I find it hard to be around you two,” Death said. “How insufferable it is that you don’t need to speak.”

"Our bond is one of the most powerful tools at our disposal," Theo said, reading Tresk's thoughts as she had a conversation with Pogo. “Even now, I can split my conversation between here and where Tresk is. I can kind of participate in both at the same time, but that's mostly thanks to Alex. She acts as something of a brain buffer for us.”

"Your souls are intertwined on a conceptual level," Death said. "I wonder if it would be possible to expand your capabilities even more."

Theo released an involuntary laugh. He turned, cocking his head to one side as he looked upon the face of Death. It was a person he had considered a potential enemy for so long. Now he was trying to tell the alchemist how to get more powerful. That just showed that his perception of the man had been wrong this entire time.

"That's an interesting proposal. What do you have in mind?"

Death revealed just how deep his knowledge of the soul went. Theo’s claim to fame was his mastery of the Reforge Soul technique, but that was only scratching the surface when compared to the god’s knowledge of souls and soul-based magic. Most of the concepts Death put forward were over Theo's head, but he did his best to follow along and offer counterarguments when necessary. It didn't take long for Tresk to return from her mission. She approached the gate with Pogo in tow. The dragon had a confusing mix of emotions playing across her face, and the alchemist wasn't certain he could exactly read her right now.

"Show me this interloper," Pogo said, hands on her hips as she glared at Death. "I don't care who you are. Show me what happened."

Death only offered a faint shrug, waving his hand through the air as he created the temporal bubble once again. "I had nothing to do with this. Fenian acted on his own. I assume this means he stole an egg from your clutch."

"That's right, he did, but the eggs weren't viable. We couldn't get a dragon soul to be imparted into them." Pogo looked slightly less annoyed and more curious. “He stole a few from the Storm Flight. Not sure how or why, but he did.”

Death frowned, looking at his gate with disappointment. “My gate is having trouble producing the image. Hold on…”

Theo witnessed godly tech support in real time. Death did a bunch of things, which involved quite a lot of magical incantations and bursts of power, but the thing that worked was a firm smack on the side of Death’s Gate. He had to stop and start the temporal field a few times before the image came back. When it did, the group uttered a collective gasp. Except for Alex, she blew a small ball of fire.

The clear image that appeared in the gate showed Fenian with his two crystal swords, still finding his way through the endless landscape. What was different, though, was the dragon-whelp fighting alongside him. Pogo was the first to react, throwing her hands up in the air, screaming, crying for a bit, and then laughing like an insane person.

“What an absolute madman!” Pogo shouted, grabbing Death by the shoulders and shaking him. “Do you have any idea what he just did?!”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Death grumbled, looking back at the image and scoffing. “I wish that it violated some rules, but it doesn’t.”

"For those of us who aren't up on our soul magic, could you tell us what happened?" you asked. "Did he really bind a soul to the dragon egg and then hatch it?"

"That's exactly what he did," Pogo said. "I think he used some kind of necromancy, but that's basically what happened.

“

“I didn't think that a normal mortal soul would accept a binding to something like a dragon's egg. There are some questions of biology that just don't make sense, here,” Death said. “Is that another egg?”

“Balls,” Theo said. “I think I know which souls he’s after. You said the queue stretches out back to the past, right?”

“Correct.”

“Look how fast he’s moving,” Theo said. “He’s gaining power as he goes along, so he’s hitting the different eras quicker.”

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“He could’ve just asked me for the souls,” Death said.

“Would you have given them to him, though?” Tresk asked.

“No, likely not,” Death said. “But it would’ve been polite to ask.”

Theo rubbed his face, trying to look at the upside of this whole ordeal. Fenian was robbing Death’s Gate, but it wasn’t against the rules. The mechanism that kept the gate functioning said nothing about a mortal going inside to grab some souls. The mortal in question should’ve died from the guardians. Instead, the mortal in question, a very motivated elf, was gaining an absurd amount of power and leaving with a few souls…

The problem was that those souls were being implanted into dragon whelps. Well, the young dragons weren’t the problem. It was the fact that by the time those dragons came out of the gate, they would be fully grown. Fenian would have an army of dragons when he emerged, and it was anyone’s guess as to what his intentions were. The other upside was that Pogo was happy about this. They weren’t true dragon souls, but she would have a few more dragons for her Dragon Flights.

“This is fantastic,” Pogo said, clasping her hands together. “We’ll have too many dragons before long.”

“He’s only bringing back a few,” Theo said. He found himself transfixed by the images within the gate. “My concern is him. That can’t be good for his psyche.”

“No kidding. Do you see how he’s tearing those monsters apart?” Tresk asked. “He’s on a different level.”

Theo thought about it for a moment, listening passively as the conversation rolled on with the others. Eventually, he nodded to himself. “Can you keep an eye on him, Death?”

“I certainly will,” Death said. “Anything I should look for in particular?”

“Can you talk him down from his insane bloodlust?” Theo asked.

Death took a breath, then shook his head. “I don’t think we’ll need to. He’s talking to the whelp.”

***

The haze was impenetrable. The marks on the handle of his sword were completely unreadable. Fenian didn’t know how long he had been in the blood haze, but his muscles swelled with unimaginable power. It wasn’t his goal to get strong within Death’s Gate. His only intention had been to find Tinesa, and now her soul was saved. A familiar sensation had spread through him a few times during the haze, but he could hardly recognize it.

Then came the concept of something to protect, and the long road required to get another person as strong as he was. It had been hundreds of years after that sensation came that he was brought somewhat to his senses, and another few hundred before he snapped to reality. Fenian stopped, skidding along the ground as something landed next to him. Memories of the whelp came back in a nauseating wave. He fell to his knees, feeling the millennia of battle shake his body all at once.

“What, you’re resting now?” a familiar voice asked from behind. “Done muttering about saving some idiots you don’t even know.”

Fenian’s voice came out as a rasping thing he hardly recognized. “I made a promise.”

“And look where that promise got you,” Tinesa said. “By the Lady’s light, you have a beard! I’ve always hated when you grow a beard. Don’t get me started on mustaches.”

Fenian turned. Although he had expected to see the lovely face of sweet, demure Tinesa, he found a dragon. A fully grown dragon, with scales the color of a frozen lake on a snowy day. Radiating from her came a power that could only be that of an ancient dragon. How long had it been since her soul had bound to the egg? The blood haze threatened to take over him again, but there she was.

“Up on your feet,” Tinesa said, blowing a puff of icy breath. “Unless you’re finally slowing down, old man.”

Fenian rose, his twin crystal swords catching what little light there was. In an instant, a thousand years of insanity flushed from his mind. “Not to worry, my darling,” he said, withdrawing a new hat from his inventory. His hair was a mess, but this would have to do for now. “We’re nearing our destination. Then, we can leave with haste.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Tinesa asked. “Your cursed plan worked.”

“Everything according to plan, my flower,” Fenian said, bowing and sweeping his swords behind him. “I’m afraid you have about a century of things to catch up on. And, if you don’t mind me saying, you simply must master the shifting ability. This form doesn’t suit you.”

Tinesa spread her wings wide, shards of ice falling to the ground as she flexed. “Dragons aren’t your thing? Come on. What’s more powerful than a dragon?”

“All the same. You won’t fit in the house,” Fenian said. Looking down at the state of his clothes, he was surprised to see them in rags. With how hard he had been fighting, he had expected them to be shredded to atoms. But the self-repair enchantment had done its job well enough to keep them intact. What he didn’t mind seeing was the light race just underneath his skin. Along with a bulkier physique, he had also infused himself with enough celestial energy to blur the lines between a mortal and otherworldly body.

“What was the name of the first target?” Tinesa asked.

“Sargeant Bawa,” Fenian said. “I think we’re close. Perhaps a few thousand years off, based on the lack of spirits here.”

“Flying might be faster,” Tinesa teased. “You wingless whelp.”

“Oh, my. Do you think you can keep up with me?” Fenian teased right back. “Let’s see how well you know your new body.”

The dragon shot forward like a bolt, stirring up a hurricane that sent chimeric horrors flying for miles around. Fenian braced himself against the winds, coiling on the spot as he shot forward. The madness wouldn’t return to him again. Not after hearing her voice. It was a sound he had dreamed about since she had died, and her soul was an all-consuming thought. He had been ready to watch worlds burn to find her. Instead, it had only required the most hardened of wills.

That willpower was fading fast, but that didn’t mean Fenian was without recourse. Doing the dirty work of some awful bird-thing was rough, and his plan had been to use that favor, currently resting in his inventory, to teleport out of Death’s hell. Now, with the insane gains both he and his wife had made by fighting endless waves of chimera, he had a different thought.

What if that favor was used to hold his mind together? What if, instead of retreating from this difficult situation, he exploited it? Perhaps it was finally his turn to bend the system over his knee and give it a good spanking.

Fenian Feintleaf, born 4823 years after the founding of Kuzan’s original kingdom as Ivaran Vieux, had finally recovered the soul of his wife, Tinesa Vieux. There existed no god in the universe strong enough to pull them apart now. After giving her a body suitable for one so skilled in magic, they barreled toward the souls of Morales, Bawa, Balchev, and another. He knew the dawn of a new Dragon Flight was just over the horizon.

His debt to Yuri Valkov would be paid in full and the Herald would return before the reset to fulfill his duties to the sector.