All The Skills - B3 Ch21: Vows (Patreon)

Arthur didn't pay strict attention during the rest of the visit, stunned and horrified by his revelations.

The former assassin had retreated to his corner, huddling with his knees drawn up to his chest, rocking back and forth. Brixaby, meanwhile, stared at Arthur as though trying to bore a hole through his head. It was clear he had reached the same conclusions.

In the meantime, Chablis hinted again that the assassin would be more reasonable — Read: sane — if he were given one of his cards back.

Brixaby’s head snapped around at her. “I’ve reconsidered, and my answer is no. He attacked my rider; he gets no mercy.”

Arthur highly doubted that Brixaby had ever genuinely considered returning the card. He just wanted an excuse to come and see what the fuss was about.

Forcefully shoving his shock to the back of his mind, Arthur added, “Besides, won’t he be that much harder to imprison if he has his card back?”

“That depends on the nature of the card,” Chablis responded, pointedly. “I don’t suppose the two of you will tell me what you took from him?"

Arthur glanced at the man who was now muttering to himself in a sing-song voice, then looked away again, shaking his head.

He and Brixaby only spoke once Chablis had led them outside, and Ghost had taken them back down to their room.

The moment he dismounted from Ghost to the balcony, Arthur turned to Brixaby. “Personal space?”

Speaking at the same time, Brixaby said, “Arthur, join me.”

They both stopped, surprised that they’d come to the same conclusion.

With a dragon's grin, Brixaby landed on Arthur's outstretched arm. Arthur added him to his Personal Space, and a moment later, allowed his mind to follow.

Time did not pass in Arthur's Personal Space. It was the reason he could store freshly cooked food there, withdrawing it hours or days later without it spoiling. It was also why he currently had a crate full of baby chicks and turkey pullets tucked away in a corner. His plan had been to either resell them once hatching season ended and the price increased, or gift them to his father or his old village the next time he visited. Livestock in the Borderlands was invaluable.

However, Brixaby possessed a natural nullification magic that resisted the time restrictions. The little dragon flapped around in a peculiar stop-start motion, freezing one moment and moving the next.

Once again, Arthur extended his arm — though it was truly only his mind present here — and when Brixaby landed, he was free of the time restrictions. He moved normally.

Brixaby took a moment to look around the room, then snorted. “Next time, either you visit my Personal Space or learn to tidy yours.”

“That won’t work, Brix. I don’t have your time nullification—wait.” Arthur blinked. “Are you telling me yours is organized?”

"I stole shelving from empty riders' quarters back at the Wolf Moon Hive," said Brixaby, casually.

A grin spread across Arthur's face, only to vanish moments later.

"The Mind Singer," he said, grimly.

"The Mind Singer," Brixaby echoed. All amusement was gone.

Arthur heaved a sigh. "I guess she told the truth about leaving the Kingdom."

"Yes, and now she is building her own power base. Her own hive." Brixaby growled under his breath, his tail flicking back and forth like an irritated cat. "That's what we should be doing. Here, using this Free Hive if we have to."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, though he had a sinking feeling he already knew. "Take over this hive?"

"Why not?" Brixaby proposed. "As Legendries, we were destined to rule the Wolf Moon Hive anyway. But they don’t have anyone of our rank here. So, I won’t have to wait for Elissa to die.”

"There's always Whitaker and his dragon," Arthur pointed out.

Brixaby gave him a look.

"I know," Arthur conceded. Whitaker had always been more interested in passing off responsibilities to anyone capable of shouldering them.

Sure, once Valentina passed or stepped down, Whitaker would officially be in charge due to his age and rank. But Arthur would be left making the real decisions — and likely cleaning up after the older rider's messes. None of that had appealed to him: not the responsibility, not the management, and certainly not covering for a grown man three times his own age.

But he had to admit that he’d rather confront the Mind Singer and her minions with the strength of the Wolf Moon Hive behind him, rather than this Free Hive.

Then he shook his head. “I don’t think the Hive will simply step aside and let us take over."

"What could they do to stop us?" Brixaby challenged. "You heard it yourself. They don’t have combat cards here."

"Some of them do have combat cards," Arthur countered. "Even if they don’t practice with them.” He sighed again. "What are we going to do, Brix?"

The dragon shrugged. "The Mind Singer’s our responsibility. Well, yours, but… I suppose mine now too, since I consumed one of her sister's cards."

Arthur looked at his dragon, taken aback. "Why do you sound happy about it?”

"Because I am," Brixaby’s draconic smile reached his blood-red eyes. "I like having an enemy with a face. Better than some faceless shadow council or more politics from your terrible family. I’m a dragon. I kill Scourgelings."

Putting in that light... it did seem straightforward.

"There’s nothing that says she won't stop at just one hive," Arthur reasoned.

"Scourge eruptions don't stop at one city," Brixaby said with a shrug. "I’m a Legendary ranked dragon, and the Singer is only a Rare scourgeling. We'll kill it when the time is right."

Arthur nodded, though he felt sick inside.

Meanwhile, people were going to suffer – were suffering now, if the Mind Singer had taken over the Free Hive. And it was his fault.

***

They emerged from Arthur’s Personal Space. Despite their conversation, only a blink of an eye had passed.

Ghost, in the midst of turning his head to address them, ordered, “You are to stay in this room tonight. Council’s orders. Don’t make me catch you out of it.”

With that gruff command, he took off from the balcony.

“Pushy Uncommon,” Brixaby said. “He’ll make a fine addition to my retinue.”

Arthur didn’t bother arguing. He didn’t intend to leave again that night, anyway.

He walked into their assigned room to find Joy sprawled across the bed. Arthur stopped short, amused by the sight.

Joy was so large that her pink tail trailed off the end, and her head rested in Cressida's lap. Her green-tinged arm was cradled on a pillow. At first glance, it seemed the muscle and scales had at been regrown.

His amusement quickly drained away as he realized there was only one bed, and he and Cressida had been assigned to the room.

He swore he didn’t make any noise, but Joy snorted awake. Brixaby immediately flew to her, pulling out his chain mail sleeve from his own Personal Space. Joy exclaimed in surprise and happiness, sitting up to carefully hug Brixaby with her wings.

"Arthur?" Cressida asked, voice sounding raspy. He suspected that she had been dozing. "What's wrong? You look like you swallowed a fish."

There was a lot wrong, starting chiefly with the Mind Singer. But Arthur’s brain had locked onto a more immediate issue. "I, uh, need to order some blankets. I can sleep on the floor tonight. Brixaby and I."

"What?" she asked, looking around. Then she froze, seemingly coming to the same realization. "Oh.”

"I'll order blankets," he declared like it was an epic quest, backing out onto the balcony. That’s where the signal flags were kept to call for a courier. He wondered if this qualified as an urgent request.

To his surprise, Cressida followed him out. She looked hesitant, her arms crossed around her middle. "Shadow stopped by and said that you were wanted for a council meeting," she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder to check if the dragons were listening.

Joy was currently pulling her sleeve over her verminous arm, and neither were paying attention to them.

"What did they say?" Cressida asked.

Arthur hesitated for a moment, but Cressida was one of his retinue riders. She had been with him in the Scholars Guild and had played a part in setting the Mind Singer free. Technically, she was as responsible as he was… though he didn’t blame her.

So, he explained briefly, using as few words as possible in case someone was trying to overhear.

He hated himself a little when he saw the blood drain out of her face.

Then, surprising him, she stepped forward, speaking equally softly. "Joy and I haven't received any type of quest about this. Arthur… don’t tell this hive we’re responsible for…” She trailed off and cocked her head to the side, indicating the Mind Singer without saying her name. “Our position is tenuous. They may decide that it’s easier to kill us or turn us over to her in a bid to sue for peace."

He hadn't thought that far, but it wasn't a surprise that Cressida had. She was, after all, a nobleman's daughter.

He nodded. "I wasn't going to tell the council."

She gave him a look.

"What?" Arthur asked.

"I don’t believe you." Her lips curled up very slightly in a smile. "You have a misplaced sense of justice. But I'm telling you, don't do it. Besides," she glanced around again as if checking for eavesdroppers. "As I said, neither Joy nor I have received a quest about this. You’d think that we would get something to… I don’t know, raid the other hive or stop her. It makes me think that it’s not possible, yet."

If the other hive was under the Mind Singer's control, they wouldn't be going up against just her, but all her minions as well.

"We have to get stronger," he agreed. "Joy has to recover, and Brixaby... He has to grow. I have so much to do."

The time just before Brixaby’s hatching had been frantic. He had added cards to his heart and secondary anchor deck that he had not truly begun to explore. And now, finally, trapped in a Free Hive where combat wasn’t allowed but crafts certainly were… this was the time to develop his skills and powers.

Now was the time to allow Brixaby to grow.

With that realization, he truly accepted that he could not return to Wolf Moon Hive. At least, not yet.

"We all have to get stronger," he repeated.

Cressida stared at him, and in the dim flickering light of the inner balcony, her eyes still seemed to shine. “We will. And when we’re ready… we’ll be with you.” She leaned forward and to his shock, brushed a kiss against his cheek before she whispered in his ear. “We’ll make up for setting that thing free, Arthur. We’re going to take her down.”

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