Chapter Five Hundred and Ninety-Three – Special Tour

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Chapter Five Hundred and Ninety-Three - Special Tour

Only Desiree, Guinevere, and I stepped off the Beaver. Before leaving, I'd poked my head back downstairs and found Clive fixing himself some breakfast. When I told him we were heading into the Keep to see how it floats, he'd just nodded and said he'd let everyone else know.

Thankfully, he hadn't commented on whether Guinevere was trustworthy or not. I wasn't quite sure about her trustiness myself, even if it seemed unlikely to me that she'd be mean or try to hurt us, and I didn't want to rehash that discussion.

Guinevere walked us down the small docks above the castle, then into the long, stone corridors within.

"This is the newer section of the castle," she said as she gestured around. "This entire wing was built... oh, ninety years ago? We needed more room for storage and for personal space for our members. Some of our other facilities also needed more space, but expanding them would require a lot of rework. So we built this new space instead."

"I see," Desiree replied as she looked about.

The space was kind of... empty? It lacked a bit of a homey touch, though there were a few tapestries on some walls that added a splash of colour here and there. Otherwise, though, the walls were mostly a dark-greyish stone, occasionally broken up by arches around solid wooden doors.

There weren't very many windows, though we did cross a space where I think a window used to be.

"Ah, you noticed that, huh?" Guinevere said when she caught me staring. There was an arch at about the height I'd expect a window to be, but it was bricked over. The red of the brick stood out from the surrounding stone.

"Was there a window here?" I asked.

"There was, at one time. A lot of the glass broke when we launched the castle. A predictable result. What was less predictable was the difficulty in keeping windows intact. The storm protects us but it can also be harmful. Most of all when a natural storm rolls in."

"Huh? Why's that?" I asked.

"Those tend to drag in plenty of detritus, and they make the winds shift in an unpredictable manner. We don't have many members that are versed in working glass, and every few weeks, we had windows shattering. The exception is the greenhouse, but it has its own magical protections. Besides, it's not like the view changes much with the seasons."

"I guess. But a bad view might still be better than nothing?"

"Hmm, perhaps. We have slitted windows in some places to let in some natural light. They can even be opened to let in a breeze when it's warm. The summers can be stifling. This way."

Rather than take the same route that led to the library where we met Tristain, we took another passage, then went down a set of stairs lit by a small magical lamp. That led into yet another corridor, this one lined by small rooms that looked like they were for storage. A few doors had been left open, and I saw dusty casks on old shelves lining the inside of small rooms. Others looked like pantries for jars of preserved food, and yet others were crammed with knick-knacks, old tools, and the usual kinds of things someone would shove into a closet and forget about.

"Do you not have issues with rodents and pests?" Desiree asked.

"Here? No. Sometimes a rat will sneak aboard one of the small ships we use to collect provisions, but for the most part it's not an issue. We have a pair of old tomcats that live on the island and wander about, hunting them down. As for insects, we have plenty of Black Avatars with spells that can kill them. I haven't seen a mosquito in years, and we don't have flies either. We do have bees, in a tiny apiary near the gardens, but it's a small hive."

How strange! I supposed it was kind of a... semi-closed environment. The Black Avatars on the island only had what they had, and not much else. If they wanted something else, they'd have to wait for it to come in from one of their shipments out of the castle, and I wasn't sure how often that happened, but it sounded like it wasn't a frequent thing. It wasn't like a weekly drive to the grocery store for milk and bread.

Guinevere turned around a corner, then another, and then we were in front of a heavy wooden door with three locking bars across it, a door that was reinforced by iron bands.

"This is the domain of Black Avatar Mathew," she said. "He's Nicholas' brother. Not the strongest of our members, but he's been around for a while, and is an expert in a rare field of magical study, same as I."

"What field is that?" I asked.

Guinevere grinned. "Macromagics."

I blinked. That had translated correctly, probably, but that didn't mean that I knew what she was talking about. 'Marco' meant big, right? I wished Amaryllis was here, she was my number one expert in magic and was good at ranting about her special interest.

Guinevere undid the latches on the door, then paused before opening it. "There are... creatures in this room. They're not dangerous. Be mindful of them, however."

"Okay?" I said. Now I was starting to be a little worried.

She opened the door, and we followed her into a tight little corridor, only this one led right into a wide, open room.

The floor lowered down by a few steps and the ceiling was arched upwards, leading up to a ceiling where a dozen magical lanterns hung off of chains and cast different shades of yellow-white light across the room.

There was, to one side, a small workspace and what looked like a very old laboratory, with alembics and little magical devices. On the other side of the room was a space filled with wooden boxes, cushions, and thick rugs on the floors and walls.

And across from us, in a nook carved into the stone of the island, was a dungeon core surrounded by large machines.

I came to a stop, vaguely aware that there were creatures off to my right and someone to my left, but my attention was mostly on the core.

It sat on a plinth, like all dungeon cores I'd seen. Several coppery disks were arranged around it, each one facing the core like satellite dishes aimed at a satellite. They were glowing faintly, and large, thick wires came off of those and ran out to some big machines tucked up against another wall near the workspace. They looked almost like computers, but like... very early computers, with plenty of rods and gearing and small weights.

"Is that a dungeon core?" I asked, even though I knew. It wasn't giving off the overwhelming waves of raw mana that a dungeon core usually did, but I could still feel a tingle of magic in the air, and I knew what I was looking at.

"It is," Guinevere said. "A rescue, of sorts. It's a long story. But it empowers the enchantments that float our humble home, and the excess power generates the storm keeping us safe."

"How did you manage such a feat?" Desiree asked.

"Well, it was a massive pain in the tails, I'll tell you that much," Gunivere said as she placed her hands on her hips. She looked inordinately smug, however, like Amaryllis usually did. "This is probably one of the greatest feats of magical engineering in the world. Perhaps not the greatest, but I'm still young!"

"And still full of yourself," the other person in the room said.

I glanced over and discovered... an older guy. He looked like he was maybe in his fifties, with a few wispy grey hairs mixed in with some brown. I got a sense that he was pretty strong, though, even if he had the build of a wizard rather than a fighter.

"Hello. You must be our... wayward guests. A pleasure. Don't poke at the dungeon core. It's safe, but I don't want anyone touching it, and especially not the machinery around it. If you don't know what you're doing, then you're causing issues."

I nodded quickly. "I'll keep my hands to myself," I promised.

"Good," he said. "I'm Mathew, a magical researcher. And full-time babysitter for the dungeon's monsters."

"The monsters?" I asked.

He gestured across the room. I glanced that way, then noticed that the heap of randomly scattered boxes and cushions were inhabited. There were lots of wide-eyed little balls of fluff staring out at us while trying to remain at least partially hidden behind and within their homes.

"Oh," I said. Then I smiled. "Hi there! I'm Broccoli! Are you friendly?"

"Fren?" one of the fluff balls asked. Its head shifted, and two long, slender and furry ears popped up.

Well, that was strange, but they looked very cute. For some reason, I felt an instant kinship with whatever that dungeon monster was.

***

A note from RavensDagger

Two new fics! First is a fanfic with SCS, the other's entirely original! If you like SCS or Save, or just... cute girl comedy, then you'll like Bite the Stars! And if you like Cinnamon Bun or Fluff, then you'll love Carrot and Stick!

What happens when a hyper-advanced Protectorate AI crashes into a Rogue Trader vessel and starts handing out Vanguard powers to the survivors?

For a happy-go-lucky AdMech tech-priestess whose only friends are her servitors, a chaotic Sister Novitiate who translates holy battle hymns into nightcore, and a grim, tactical junior medicae trying to keep them all alive, the universe just got a whole lot weirder. Stranded in a galaxy that knows only war, this mismatched trio has to navigate terrifying alien threats, warp corruption, and bureaucratic zealotry, all while trying to spend their points wisely.

Sometimes, to survive the grim darkness, you have to bite the stars.

Read Bite the Stars if you like:

Numbers go up

Big battles

Toasters

Lots of the author nerding out about niche 40K lore

The Adeptus Mechanicus

The Sisters of Battle

Cute girls doing horrific things

https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/178793/carrot-and-stick

Silas Switchbranch, wizard of the secretive Ordo Venator, is a man whose lack of luck is only equal to his ambitions. He will become a wizard-knight one day... if he can survive that long. That means taking risks, and picking up jobs that no one else wants.

Including one job, in a small podunk city in upstate New York where his investigation immediately goes sour and has him running wand-first into an abnormal number of daemons... and also a strange redheaded girl who can fling magic around like nobody's business and who thinks she's a magical girl from something she calls 'anime.' 

Stuck, with no one to rely on but the far too excitable and imaginative Carrot Cuddleworth, Silas has to figure out the mystery at the centre of what might well be a terrible conspiracy while keeping his sanity in check and his newfound ally alive.

Read Carrot and Stick if you like:

The Dresden Files

Bleach

Silly girls with too much power

The magic of friendship

Petty crime