Metaworld Chronicles

Gwen slipped her Dwarven-made, German-designed Message Bangle back onto her wrist. A custom order, the multi-function device had cost a Dede-sized mound of HDMs, for its Core had come from a rare species of telepathic Mushroom Mites deep in the damp darkness of the Murk.

In addition to an unparalleled ability to latch onto the pulse of notoriously unreliable Divination signals, the bangle served to amplify her Divination broadcasts. In times of conflict, together with the hierarchal Glyphs of a Magister, the unit doubled as a command module capable of piercing the fog of Spellfire.

Click. Gwen drew the unlocking Glyph with a finger, then synched her Divination Sigil with the Core. In the next few seconds, she fully expected dozens of blooming Messages to dazzle her field of vision.

Instead, her device remained mum.

"Oh yeah." She recognised the problem at once. The signal was absent. She was outside of the range of even the most far-ranging Divination Tower. Sydney was not London, and its countryside was more accurately described as Wildlands.

From memory, the closest Divi-Tower was in Wiseman's Ferry, a hundred kilometres as the crow flies from her present whereabouts.

However, location tracking should still be possible, even if Messages are not. On Gwen's middle finger, her slim digits toyed with her Contingency Ring. After all, this was Australia's open landscape, not Amazonia's arboreal abodes or the Murk's abstract dimensions.

"Goolagong." Gwen forced herself up. She was weak, though physical fatigue was nothing alchemy couldn't fix. Comparatively, her mental fatigue made her ill with exhaustion, making her thoughts feel like a tumbling percussion set. "I need to go."

"Of course you do. You come, and you go." Goolagong did not offer words of sympathy nor aid on flying with fatigue. "Bushwacking half-asleep—That's the Migloo way, yes? You decided what to do with Almudj?"

"Yes, the choice is mine." Gwen nodded as the old woman held her upright. A quick Prestidigitation ensured she was clean enough to put on tights and a jacket suitable for flying, both mid-tier magical garbs she had picked up in the UK from an Enchanter.

The smiling Goolagong regarded her form-fitting outfit with a critical eye. "Too skinny, Migloo girl. Almudj likes a bit more meat on his meals."

"Of course, Al does." Gwen rolled her eyes, amused by the assertion. "No wonder Elf-Kalinda's tree burned. She should have worked on her glutes."

"Ha!" Old Goolagon roared with laughter, shaking her fertility goddess figure. "Cheeky girl, you need more cheek to please the cheeky snake! The three sisters who Almudj visited at night in the Dreaming? They are much-much more cheeky than you!"

On reflex, Gwen knew she had to retort with the right words. "Oh, right. Naturally. My Mythic don't want-want none unless Kalinda's got buns, huh?"

While Goolagong grew confused, Gwen smugly adjusted her top.

"You say the strangest things, Migloo Gwen." The Spirit Walker chose to certify her advice by sending Gwen on her way. "Go! You make no sense!"

Oh yeah—I am the strange one, Gwen retaliated in silence. As if an anaconda with a preference isn't weird. Because in that eternal bedlam of Space and Time, the Rainbow Snake dreamt of ass. That makes perfect sense.

At a suitable altitude, she waved goodbye to the kids below who had come begging for more SPAM before summoning Ariel to be her guard and mount. Once mounted, she zoomed toward what she presumed to be Wiseman's Ferry with her Omni-orb.

Twenty minutes later, she saw Lulan and Richard.

The Orb took her to her "heart's desire"—in this case, her desire to see family outweighed the loading dock at Wiseman's. It was a quirk of the Orb, something that Professor Brown had warned her against, least it mislead her at a critical junction, or if the Yinglong could manipulate her direction-blindness without her knowing. That or one day, she might visit Evee instead of a battlefield awaiting salvation from a War Mage.

Still, the Orb had done its job thus far, from late-night Chinese takeout to destinations with names she can't pronounce. Whatever magic used to empower its Divination was far better at reading context than Human-orientated magic, proving why the Omni-Orb was considered an invaluable artefact.

"Gwen!"

"Saviour!"

Her companions look relieved, with Lulan more so than Richard.

"Lord Gunther said we'd find you sooner or later if we loitered around here listening for thunder and looking for emerald lightning." Lulan allowed the tension to fall visibly from her shoulders. "Gwen, were you attacked? You don't look alright."

"She looks fine." Richard disarmed their companion with a casual wave over Gwen's new clothes. "Look at her outfit, Lulu. Why would Gwen be anything other than fine if she's wearing fashion? Besides, Ariel looks to be in a good mood."

"EEE—EEE!" The Kirin purred.

Lulan appeared to absorb Richard's advice as the three locked into flight formation.

"A lot has happened." Gwen kept the news vague for now. "Anything else happened while I was gone?"

"Many things," Richard spoke while keeping an eye on his Message device. "Auckland survived a two-day siege without you, and they're already missing your presence. However, rumours say that they don't want you back! Ha! Imagine that! Our auditing must have hit the Greys in the kidneys. They told Gunther Auckland can't afford the wage commanded by the Mageocracy! Gunther told them he'll do them a solid, and you'll take payment in war loot."

"Whoever suggested that deserves to die," Lulan snarled in a low voice. "To put profit over the safety of the city? Of the folk they've sworn to protect? That's ridiculous."

"Now, now, Lulu. Let's not be harsh. You think that's how officials work, but in reality, self-interest is the norm," Richard continued to stain the lily-white Lulu in the tenebrous ink of his wily ways. "And when it comes to personal prejudices, you're no different when our dear cousin is involved. Would you have Gwen suffer a disfiguring danger to save a hundred NoMs? A thousand, even? Having the gall to make that call and defend the cause, that's the making of a Magister."

The Sword Mage grew reticent.

"Dick! Stop teasing her!" Gwen chided her cousin with a playful elbow before hovering closer to her bodyguard. "Don't dwell on it, Lulu. That's not going to happen. Economic reform, contingencies and vertical-integrated strategies are the goals of our future 'economic' Tower. We'll do everything we can for those we owe responsibility and warranty. For others, only due diligence may apply."

"Well said." Richard's smarmy smile never left his lips. "So, what did Al say? I can see a Barbanginy had not happened."

"Thankfully," Gwen vaguely answered, thinking about the vision of the burning tree. She could still feel the heat scorching her Astral Body, sensing that great cathedral of blazing and burning within the emerald hue of Almudj's Essence. "But I did find an answer for Sufina, and thus our future Tower."

Now it was Richard's turn to assume a contemplative silence.

With her Orb leading the way, the trio re-adjusted their headings for Sydney Tower. Thanks to Ariel, an enormous chemtrail of Quasi-Elemental Mana followed, trailing from the tablelands toward the state's glimmering coastal city.

*****

Sydney.

The Tower.

PHSSSSSST—

"Ah—sugars…" Gunther Shultz, Lord Master of the Sydney Frontier, garnished his apple strudel with more whipped cream than intended. "That changes everything."

"It certainly does." Alesia crushed her pie with a fork before mixing the mess into an amalgamation of textures. Happily, she spooned the offending admixture between her sensual lips. "I am glad Sufi shall have her wish."

Gunther looked like he wanted to retort but instead said nothing. "Yes. You girls do as you please. I am just a humble Frontier lord, one doing his job."

Gwen studied the two. That her siblings would be so divided on the matter of Sufina was still something she had not expected. What was more shocking was that Alesia, who always gave Gunther room to live large, did not give an inch regarding her make-belief surrogate mother figure.

It was a situation that made Gwen the perfect mediator to the couple's rare unhappy conflict, as she both had feelings for Sufina and possessed the advantage of a cooler head.

Therefore, the question left on her plate of strudel was when to make good on Sufina's offer.

It was a weighty word, considering the implication of what she'd seen in Kalinda's dreaming.

Now was without question the incorrect time.

Foremostly, a bloody Shoal was knocking on Auckland.

Surviving that, she had an expedition to Erebus, following the footsteps of Shackleton across the Antarctic to find the culprit Elementals responsible for the eruption.

Then…

She had no idea what else was to follow.

In her old world, climate change's impacts would take decades to manifest. In her present convergence of the Spiritus Mundi, the consequences could be near-immediate or be so subtle that none would believe her until the world saw its first cataclysm.

One like the Fire Sea, a cataclysm that Gwen felt had been a practicum used to prove a point, a demonstration to rally the Elementals behind a tangible outcome.

Whatever the case, not even the Oracle of Delphi had forewarned the world of the great disturbance in the force, which meant there was nothing to do but wait.

If only she had a crystal ball!

If only Diviners SAW the future and weren't just information specialists pigeon-holed into a convenient-sounding School of Magic!

"I should make a detour to see Sufina," Gwen announced. "Do I have the time to spare?"

"You don't." Gunther began the process of packing away the plates. "Richard, Lulan, would you like more?"

Lulan obediently collected the rest of the cutlery and plates, meek as a kitten, leaving only Gwen and Alesia with their second and third helpings.

"Thank you," Gunther continued. "The Shoal is still growing—a direr prospect for Auckland, one I've advised Paladin Te to resolve actively, rather than waiting for fate to take its shot."

"It's still growing?" Gwen envisioned the multiple layers of swirling fish forming into something of Dante's nine layers of a seafood buffet. "Are they eating themselves?"

"Where there's a Grand Shoal, the fabric between the Planes grow thin," Gunther clarified by drawing apart the layers of his strudel. "The Elemental Princes can ferry the enormous, continent-spanning swarms of bait fish from the Plane of Water into the Prime Material by taking advantage of the natural rents that occur when such a density of Elemental beings congregate. It's another reason why we can't attack them that deep. Imagine finding yourself shunted into the Mer's home Plane. Now that would be a disaster."

Gwen pushed away her final serving of strudel. "I guess the Shoal I fought wasn't that big."

"During the Coral War," Alesia wrapped up as well. "The Grand Shoal of the Seven Kingdoms spanned from Byron Bay to Rockhampton, turning the sea a dark green as far as the eye could see. We had planar anomalies occur as an everyday event, sometimes a dozen times during the peak of the invasion. At some point, even the Shoal struggled with its structure."

"Where the Prime Material's fabric grows threadbare," Gunther explained. "There's a propensity for other things to sneak across. To the Mer, the horrid beasts living in the Far Planes' broken spaces are no less strange and potentially hostile. Sometimes, there's nudging from the other side. Other times, forces of the spectral variety could take advantage and invite strange guests into our home."

"Like the Triffidus?" Gwen asked. "The batch I scoured in the UK?"

"Indeed." The Tower Master nodded. "We know this. The Lords of Mer know this. Without a sufficiently powerful Prince in charge, the Shoal can only gain so much mass before it begins to collapse the folds of Prime Material."

"Meaning you should probably head back to Auckland soon," Alesia concurred with her husband. "I fear there'll be a real attack soon—"

"A final assault?"

"Ha!" Alesia sternly patted Gwen's knee. "If you think a Shoal is that easy to defeat, you're dreaming, Gwennie. Once the Shoal reaches critical mass, it'll send as many Mer as it wishes to lose to attack the city and defences. Even if you annihilate the assault, the Shoal remains largely uncontested and may continue to build up its forces. In the aftermath, you've done their leadership a favour, for the survivors will be promoted, AND there's no longer an excess of fish to cause undue instability."

"Right." Gwen sighed. "Hence a Shoal is to be endured, not bested. The Grey Faction has been whining about that since May."

"The only real alternative is for you to challenge the Elemental Prince," Gunther suggested. "That was Master's method in his book."

"I did that with the Dragon Turtles," Gwen reminded her siblings. "It was a tough fight. Dede almost died."

"Aww, the poor thing," Alesia cooed.

"Nyrlesvinyr's the one to best," Gwen recalled the name without trouble. "And considering she saved her brother, what are the chances Shyvaphyr's sibling fall for the same bait twice?"

"Nyrlesvinyr." Gunther moved from the kitchen table to the dining. A Glyph flashed, and then a Long-Range Message Device materialised. "I've done some homework for you and Te while you were away. Asked for information to be delivered from the Shard. One moment."

The activated device began to make that horrible, line-modem screech while the occupants of Gunther's penthouse suite at the Tower sat in enduring silence.

"I know of this Nyrlesvinyr. I believe Alesia and I had encountered one of its... spawns during our epoch of the Coral Sea War. It's a Hydra-like creature, very unique," Gunther spoke over the noise.

DING!

The LRM Device secured its connection to London.

"Gwen, my dear! How are you?" The face of Maxwell Brown, Gwen Song researcher extraordinaire, made an appearance. "Excellent timing, Lord Shultz. We've just finished tea and arrived at the lab."

"Professor Brown!" Gwen broke into a grin. It was always nice to see a familiar face. "My, it feels like a lifetime. How are things in London?"

"Without you, my dear, everything has been without colour," the academic flattered without so much as a blush. "Did you enjoy the butchery?"

"It's okay. How's Gracie getting along?" Gwen asked, mindful of the follower she had left behind with plentiful doses of Essence-infused Maotai.

"I am here!" A second voice answered her. "I am helping Professor Brown with organising the material you wanted."

"Aww... thanks, Gracie. You didn't have to do that." Gwen gave the Lumen projector a big bright smile. "How's JP doing—"

Gunther coughed. "I know you're rich, Gwen, but LRM time is money for a Frontier like ours, especially a channel with this much Abjuration weaved within the signal."

"Right," Gwen settled herself. "So, what information do we have on Nyrlesvinyr?"

"Lord Gunther? If you could?" Maxwell Brown spoke past her toward her sibling-in-craft.

The former Coral War vet muttered a few power words of Illusion, then materialised the scale model of what looked like an island swimming on four paddle-like legs. The external shell of the Dragon Turtle in question was roughly disc-shaped, conic and resembling a giant screw. The most distinctive thing about the creature, Gwen noted, was its noodle-like appendages. Upon closer inspection, these were segmented heads with enormous, multi-layered jaws.

"That's Nyrlesvinyr?" Gwen pointed to the floating fortress covered with kelp and seagrass. "Or is one of its heads Nyrlesvinyr? What is it? A multi-headed Dragon-Turtle?"

"Don't be fooled. Nyrlesvinyr is a Dragon-Worm." Gunther made the image larger. "That island is not a turtle shell. That's the fortress lair within which it makes its home. Nyrlesvinyr's core element is Ooze, though it can shift to Earth and Water with equal ease. From its roost, Nyrlesvinyr sends out itself—or more accurately, its Spawn."

"Or Avatars?" Alesia tossed in her two cents. "Clones, perhaps? Kind of like Greater Simulacrums."

"Yes," the Tower Master agreed. "They're quite a handful, considering that they fear no death and act as such. Its Ooze powers add a corrosive poison to its skin secretions and bite. It's a skill reserved for fighting its siblings and other ancient horrors of the deep, though you can imagine the havoc it might wreck if one of the appendages makes it to shore."

"How large is this thing exactly?" Gwen pursed her lips, pondering how she might topple such a thing and disperse the Shoal.

"About the size of Muttonbird Island," her brother-in-craft said with a smile.

Muttonbird Island, Gwen knew, was one of the famous pilgrimage sites for those worshipping the Lord Master of Sydney. A decade ago, Gunther had turned the Mer-Tide with a phantasmagorical display, raining shards of Radiance across the eastern seaboard of Byron until the sea steamed with erupting seafood fighting to escape the unquenchable crystals boiling the water. Now, the barren island was a bee-hive of tiny, long-cooled craters, which made perfect roosts for the benign seabirds.

"It's a kilometre long?" Gwen stared at the Wyrm fortress. "Are you serious?"

"About five hundred meters diametre, but at least a kilometres deep." Gunther pointed at the sloped end, then gestured to the front. "It can move the undersea island by manipulating the currents surrounding the landscape. That said, I think its real body is about a kilometre long, coiled up inside that roost."

"Nyrlesvinyr's base life form should be the semi-divine worms that inhabit the Para-Elemental Plane of Ooze," Alesia informed her. "Both indestructible and without natural enemies. Its parent would be akin to Almudj, a being that slumbers in the Murk Mud, moving like living glaciers through the immense pressures of the Para-Plane, consuming everything in its path."

"Miommiriorthyr the Deep put his who in a what?" Gwen tried her best to imagine the act, then immediately regretted her internet-fuelled imagination. "That's amazing."

"Perhaps a symbiosis of Essences might prove a better explanation." The voice of Maxwell Brown banished her horrible thoughts. With a wave of his hand, the island grew transparent, revealing the body of what looked like…

"A Bristle Worm?" Gwen stared hard at the ugliest creature she had ever seen. Sure, the scales were a pleasant rainbow colour, but its tiny eyes were utterly alien—and those jaws looked like they could do serious damage. And those noodle-like legs that looked like a thousand independent slugs jostling for space—disgusting! And to think Nyrlesvinyr had possessed a buttery bedroom voice! "From her voice… I had imagined a Mer-woman."

Or Ursula the Sea Witch.

"I am sure he, or it, or she could assume many forms if it pleased her." Brown laughed. "We're talking about a creature that could replicate by slicing itself in half."

"Why am I always up against worms?" Gwen furrowed her brows. "Sand Wyrms, Earthen Wyrms, and now this water worm-wyrm."

"Are you not the Worm-handler of Fudan?" Alesia chortled.

"What plans do you have to fight it?" Gunther politely interrupted the mirth. "If it were me, I would set up a task force for dealing with its offshoots. In the crudest sense, they are portions of Nyrlesvinyr's living flesh, possessed of all the perks of a Planar Draconic species. Your problem, I think, would be the impossibility of preventing the Shoal's mistress from making personal attacks on Auckland. Consider your roster of Mages. Yue might manage. A few of Auckland's elite Flights might manage. After that, you'll have more problems than you have men. Auckland's Tower, likewise, can't be everywhere. Once a push is made in earnest, who can hold back the many-bodied might of Nyrlesvinyr?"

"I could handle one." Lulan raised her hand. "I'll wrangle Gwen's worm."

Richard quickly lowered the girl's hand for her.

Alesia looked at Lulan with approval. "You might. But I wouldn't recommend splitting up your team, especially if Nyrlesvinyr knows who you are from your fight with her brother."

"She might know a few of my tricks," Gwen recalled something the worm had said in their previous encounter. "It watched me fight the Dragon Turtles. Then she mentioned she fought Sobel once and that it was not afraid of me."

"Many of the Seven Kingdom's upper echelons have survived Sobel. I would imagine," Gunther replied, untouched by her conjecture. "Master was responsible for reclaiming most of the East Coast after he got his hands on his future wife. That's a half-decade of Purges going head-to-head with the Mer's elites. It's also the reason Sobel's so slippery. Now that she's a professed foe of Humanity at large, there's a great number of presumed havens her and Spectre's Rogue Mages could occupy in the Wildlands. Barr the Dragon-kind, memories are short in the Wildlands, and raw power commands a currency higher than any other."

Gwen studied the holographic projection.

"Professor Brown? I assume you have advice for me?"

"Indeed I do. First, if you must fight it in the water, forget about it." Brown nodded with satisfaction. "Your advantage is on land or in the air. The same applies to your foe, who must, but is reluctant to enter the shallows to send its tendrils onto the shore. I'll let Gracie explain the next part."

"Hi, Gracie!" Gwen waved at the pale face coming into view.

Gracie waved back. "From our records on Nyrlesvinyr, I think the crux of the matter lies with its Draconic pride. Whether Nyrlesvinyr will remain within the Shoal or if it is willing to lead from the front. Here's what Lord Brown and I suspect. In time, when the moment is ripe, the island fortress Nyrlesvinyr carries with her can serve as a battering ram to break the siege, allowing the Shoal entry into Auckland Tower's defence lines. Regular brutes won't be capable of meaningfully penetrating the lines, as they'll be severely injured by resonance. Not so for an old Draconid like Nyrlesvinyr. Once the Shielding Generators are overheated, Nyrlesvinyr can unleash the Shoal's Elites, the Wave Riders and the Water Witches from her roost. While chaos ensues, she can use them to disrupt the ley-line stations, disabling the protections feeding the Shoal into Auckland's kill zones."

"I see. What do you suggest other than brute-force defence?" Gwen pursed her lips. "Unless this is the strategy."

"You could drop the Shoggoth on the Shoal. It had certainly done wonders in the Chinese catacombs," Brown added. "But that would be a pyrrhic victory. This close to the city, we'll likely have to sacrifice the entire barrier islands and the region's ecology for the next decade. And as a precaution, a general evacuation of Auckland should be carried out. That's hardly a break-even."

"So we're between a worm and a hard place, eh?" Gwen sighed.

"Don't fret." Brown sent away his Void-aide. "Do you recall when you defeated the Balefire Golem with Soul Tap? Or when you took in Garp? I think there's a play here. From the scant details revealed by Nyrlesvinyr, we can deduce that it never fought Sobel vis-a-vis. Else it would have developed a healthy avoidance of Gwen. I think it's likely unaware of your ability to Essence Tap its Draconic blessings."

"I am sure I threatened the Dragon Turtles with it, and I Soul Tapped Zippy."

"Then it will have incomplete knowledge. Not to mention Sobel couldn't do what you can," Brown added. "She can't Essence Drain higher-order beings. You're different. Are you not a Vessel of Almudj? What Essence will dare to vie for dominion with yours? Wouldn't that simply incur Almudj's ire? If the Rainbow Snake can swallow Sobel's Black Sun with only mild indigestion, it can erase Nyrlesvinyr from Auckland without so much a yawn. We only need to be wary of whether your patron will be upset at you."

"Not if I digest the Essence for parts and not use it as I did with the Yinglong," Gwen confirmed with confidence. "I see. Once drained of Draconic Essence, the appendages will no longer be a threat."

"And you will drive Nyrlesvinyr up the sea wall, I guarantee it." Brown chuckled. "Maybe capture it for us? We could use a precious specimen that cannot be exhausted. Even as a food supply, the value of such a near-immortal body is invaluable."

"What if I beat the young one and yet another older one comes out?" Gwen asked. "I don't want to start a real war."

"I'll have your back," Gunther assured her. "Besides, you are besting Nyrlesvinyr in a fair fight. For Miommiriorthyr to cross the Planar boundary would first uproot the Seven Kingdoms. For him to send another scion is a real possibility, but another Great Shoal isn't something that occurs overnight. It'll be decades before we see a reprisal, though to allow the danger of the present to dictate an unknown future would be foolhardy."

"Not to mention if the old one comes, your Old One might just make a showing as well. That's never happened before and shouldn't now. In our recorded history, the Mageocracy has never seen Mythics fight with their true bodies in the Prime Material. If you recall such a thing from Tryfan, there should be an unspoken agreement in place, and not tearing apart the stability of the Spiritus Mundi should be a core tenet."

"So." Gwen sat back in her chair. "We organise a lure and an ambush?"

"The details, you'll have to work it out with Paladin Te," Gunther said. "Brown, I'll end the call here."

Before Gwen could waste more HDMs with goodbyes, the channel blinked out.

"Do you know what to do now?" Her brother asked.

"Yes." Gwen felt the clarity of purpose wash over her and a strange nostalgia involving a wayward memory of Hai at the beach, hitting on young women while she and Percy played in the rockpools. "You know, it's been years since I last caught bait worms at the beach."

"You're confident the fish will bite?"

"She'll bite." Gwen gave her sibling a thumbs up. "Assuming she fancies herself a Wyrm and not a worm, answering a challenge is an itch a Draconid cannot help but scratch."