Mistaken for a Returnee

"Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ You make us feel so good ~ so sweet and creamy, rich and dreamy ~ You're my favorite thing of all ~" Oakairo sang, his voice reverberating throughout Aldritch's skull, and adding a strange surrealness to the moonlit night.

"What're you singing, my lord?" Aldritch asked, wondering if the drinking game had somehow managed to affect the God instead of him.

He'd tried to warn them, but they didn't listen.

He tried to bow out after the first round of drinks, and again after the fourth round when Veta, Emrid, and Faeyra called it quits. But Zarud, Derrik, and surprisingly Ralocan refused to let him surrender… Alright.

Seventeen rounds later, it was down to Aldritch and Derrik- the two men going head-to-head in the eternal pastime of the dwarves.

The others had fought valiantly; he'd give them that. Especially Sulika; he'd never imagined the small captain could hang on for twelve rounds, but she'd surprised him.

However, after three more rounds, even Derrik was starting to look a bit shaky on his feet. While Aldritch drained the dark liquid like he was drinking well water- no change in expression, no hesitation, he downed the entire pint without a second thought.

"Yer cheating…" Derrik muttered, pointing at Aldritch with a finger that refused to stay still. "I dun know how… But yer a blighting cheater…"

"Not on purpose, I assure you." Aldritch said before downing another pint and smacking his lips. "At least your liquor is tasty- much better than that piss water the army gave us."

"H-How?" Derrik slurred his words and reached for another drink- but his hand met with nothing but air. Aldritch had taken his last drink right out from under his nose.

"I've been immune to poison for the better part of nine-hundred years. The only thing these drinks leave me with is a bad taste in my mouth." He finished the drink, sat the glass down on the table, then gently flicked it towards the circle.

"You-you basta-" Derrik lost his balance and collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Aldritch watched his glass slide into the circle and displace two others- both of which were his own glasses.

"Trust me, Lad. I'm miffed about it too."

Now he was walking through the empty market square with the barrel of chocolate milk held under his left arm and the taste of cheap liquor on his tongue.

A short distance behind him, Sulika and Faeyra walked side by side, talking amongst each other.

They were both fairly drunk, Sulika more so than Faeyra, but he didn't think it was enough to be dangerous if they were left alone.

Truth be told, he was slightly irritated that they were following him.

He'd planned to return to the docks, maybe even swing by that park he'd found, and drink his chocolate milk in peace… He sighed.

It wouldn't take too long to drop them off at the Fancy Dryad and then go off on his own. His curiosity could wait until he ensured they returned home safely.

There was just one problem…

"Just a little song I came up with to honor our first piece of treasure in the new world- Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ always on my mind ~ You're cold and frothy, smooth and lofty ~ You're the best thing I've ever found ~" He sang, slightly louder and more excited on the second verse than he was on the first. "Do you like it?" He sent a wave of amusement and pride flowing through their bond.

"It's great, My lord. Your voice is beautiful as always. I'm just not in a 'singing' mood right now, and I'd be really grateful if you'd please stop singing."

Oakairo had a wonderful singing voice, better than any mortal Aldritch had ever heard, and in centuries past, it made sense that Oakairo would often be visited by people who've traveled thousands of miles just to hear him sing… But even a perfect voice gets old after a while.

Especially when most of the songs he'd sing were like this. If his magic resistance wasn't so high, he'd just silence himself and hoped that would stop it… But then again, he wasn't even sure that would work. Could their bond be silenced? Thinking on it, the answer was probably 'no' since you could still hear your own thoughts while being silenced.

"Not in a 'singing' mood? What does that mean? How could you not want to hear me sing?" He asked, feeling genuinely confused by the request.

Everyone loved his voice.

"It means- while I completely understand your enthusiasm- You're singing about chocolate milk, my lord. Can you see how that might get annoying?" Aldritch asked, suddenly feeling exhausted. He was ready for this day to end so they could go do something more interesting.

"Oh, am I annoying you?" Oakairo asked, a faint note of amusement had crept into his voice- Which sunk Aldritch's stomach; He shouldn't have said anything. Why did he have to say it? "I didn't realize." Oakairo finished, the ammo Aldritch had just handed him was now fully loaded, and ready to go.

"Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ Now I'm filled with delight ~ You're yummy and tasty, too precious to wastey~"

"For the love of your name, please don't."

"Chocolate milk, chocolate milk ~ You're the reason I'm alright tonight ~" He sang, his voice louder than ever.

Aldritch let out a long sigh of exasperation and shook his head. He knew better, and he still did it. Should've kept his mouth shut, maybe Oakairo would've gotten bored after the first two verses…

But he wouldn't stop now that he knew it got on Aldritch's nerves.

Aldritch ignored the song as much as he could for the rest of the trip to the shop.

As soon as they walked through the door, Faeyra headed off to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, leaving Sulika and Aldritch standing by the door.

"Did you want to come back with us or are you turning in for the night?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder to watch the elf stumble out of sight. "I'm sure Faeyra would make something for you too."

"That's tempting." Aldritch laughed. "But I have enough to drink for the moment." He said and tapped the barrel he was carrying under his right arm. "You go on, enjoy the rest of your evening. I'll see you in the morning."

"You're sure?" She asked, surprised he'd turned down the offer. Was he feeling sick?

"I'm sure. Go on." He replied, smiling down at her.

"Well, alright then. Goodnight, Aldritch." She said and turned to walk away- But stopped at the last second and gave him a look full of suspicion. "You don't have anywhere else to stay. What's the real reason you're leaving?" She turned to face him with her arms crossed beneath her chest.

"Relax, I'll be back later tonight. When I was wandering earlier, I found a park near the docks. I'd like to go back there for a while, maybe watch the sun rise. It's been a while since I've done that." He explained, and hoped she'd leave it at that.

Sulika stared at him for a few more moments… Then she nodded, "Alright. Just… Make sure you don't get into any trouble, alright?"

Aldritch didn't know why she was so worried about him.

There weren't many things that could pose a threat to him, especially not outside of a dungeon.

Was it the alcohol? Was it making her more paranoid than usual?

"I give you my word, I'll not cause trouble in the city this night." He said and wondered if that'd be enough for her.

As it turns out, it was. Sulika, who knew how serious dwarves saw promises, smiled at Aldritch and waved goodbye.

"Ready?" Oakairo asked, his excitement for what was about to come flooded their bond.

"Definitely." Aldritch nodded, casting "Lock" on the front door before he left.

The spell did exactly as its name suggested and magically sealed any container or door with a lock.

"Lock" was a level zero spell, used practically no mana, and was part of the 'Universal' school of magic- so basically anyone could cast it. But its counter spell was slightly more difficult to use as a first level spell. So, while almost anyone could cast "Lock", only a spell caster like Sulika, Ralocan, Oladi, or Faeyra could undo it. Everyone else would just have to wait until the eight-hour duration was up.

With the shop protected for the night, Aldritch turned towards the aerial dock and started walking while looking to the sky.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The moon shone brightly tonight, much brighter than Aldritch could remember seeing back home.

Without thinking about it, he grabbed the cork plugging the hole at the top of the barrel and pulled it free. He took a quick sniff of the sweet mixture before turning the entire barrel up and pouring chocolate milk directly into his mouth.

"We've only got a few hours until people start walking the streets. We should hurry." Oakairo said impatiently.

Aldritch pulled the barrel away from his lips and replaced the cork. "Mm… Fair point." he sighed.

He was enjoying the walk; the buildings, though dark, were each beautiful in their own way. And there was just something about taking a moonlit stroll with approximately eleven gallons of chocolate milk that set Aldritch's heart at ease.

"Well, let's move on, then." He replied and tightened his grip on the barrel. He bent his knees and- There was a dull thump as Aldritch pushed off the ground, leaping through the air with all the grace of a wrecking ball with a broken chain.

Normally, walking from the Fancy Dryad to the dock took around twenty to thirty minutes, depending on the foot-traffic.

Aldritch covered that same distance in eleven seconds and rapidly found himself watching the ground rush up to meet him.

"Wyvern's Retaliation…" Aldritch whispered.

His magic thrummed to life, threading its way through the air molecules that surrounded him until every last particle of air within a fifteen-foot radius came under his control- then turned back on him; the magic pulled the air inwards and wrapped it tightly around his body.

Just before he could hit the ground and do who knew how much damage to the pavement and bedrock beneath- the air beneath his body violently pushed upwards, shoving against the ground with enough force to cancel out his downward momentum.

He landed softly near the center of the aerial dock.

He looked around at the now empty dock, and marveled at just how quiet everything was, now that all the workers had gone home for the evening.

But that was part of what intrigued him so much.

Because it shouldn't be silent here, not ever.

This was, supposedly, the only place on the island that could import and export goods from other islands- which was thanks to the holes scattered across the docks.

Therein lay his question.

If those holes allowed merchants to travel to and from the island, why couldn't he hear any wind?

Did the ward he'd discovered earlier wrap around the entire island? Was it not just to keep people from falling off? If that was the case, why? And why seal it at night?

Aldritch approached one of the many holes scattered across the docks and peered over the edge…

"Sulika wasn't kidding about how high up the island is floating." Oakairo muttered.

Aldritch could see the ocean beneath them, but it was far- far away.

Back when Aldritch was a young lad, the former high priest of Oakairo had journeyed with him to the crown of the world; A mountain so tall, its peak was said to rip any cloud that tried to pass over it.

It was a grueling journey that took almost a year to complete, but the pride Aldritch felt when he reached the top- to be one of only twenty-six people to have ever made the journey and lived… was perhaps the most beautiful moment of young Aldritch's life.

And now, he wasn't sure if that mountain could reach where Azuris island was floating.

Without hesitation, Aldritch placed his left foot over the opening and leaned forward- Gravity took hold instantly and pulled him down.

Wind whipped wildly through his hair, buffeted his skin, and caused his robes to loudly slap against his body. But Aldritch was too busy watching the island's wards spring to life to care about any of that.

Keeping his feet squarely beneath him, he once again cast "Wyvern's Retaliation" before he landed, allowing him to land without shattering the wards-

Three things happened the moment he touched the ward; he felt a spike of energy flow into his body through the soles of his boots, the spot beneath his feet shined with a bright, silver light that became visible even without the pushing mana into his eyes, and a bell rang loudly in his ears.

Aldritch waited a few seconds to see if anything would happen… But nothing did.

The ward didn't attack him beyond that first spike of energy, which didn't even do any damage to him- Okay, he would need a new pair of boots now; his turned to slag a few seconds after landing and dust a few seconds after that.

But was that all it did?

Where were the reflection protocols? The kinetic and magical absorption batteries? At this point, he would've accepted a kinetic dispersal program inlaid over the hard ward, at least that would've ensured it could withstand a hit or two before breaking, but they didn't even have that.

To Aldritch, this ward wasn't fit for defensive purposes; It was just an overengineered garbage disposal.

He sighed and looked up at the underside of the island as it loomed a few hundred feet overhead; It was truly massive, easily a hundred miles of bedrock and- his eyes widened in surprise.

There were holes everywhere. While some of them might've occurred naturally, most of the holes lined up with what Aldritch recognized as a search and pilfer mining pattern.

The kind you only employed if you needed a specific mineral, and you needed it yesterday.

Most mines were dug in a specific way and were usually designed to allow for quick closure in the event something happened.

For example, collapsing one tunnel to take some pressure off another, more important, tunnel.

But the way those holes were dug indicated one of two things.

They didn't care about the dangers of a collapsing tunnel- which was about as ridiculous as cutting off your pinky toe because your head hurt.

The other option was they didn't have the time to do it properly, which Aldritch preferred to think of as the truth, at least for now.

"Think there's anything else to see down here or should we head on to the park?" Aldritch asked while scanning the island's bedrock for anything interesting. He caught brief glimpses of mana flowing into some tunnels and out others.

While he wondered what was causing it, he pulled the cork out of the barrel and brought the barrel to his lips-

"I'm more interested in what's outside the ward." A rush of white-hot bloodlust flowed downstream from Oakairo. "Do you smell it?"

Aldritch pulled the barrel away from him, re-corked it, then closed his eyes and sucked in a breath; He smelled a lot of things.

The delectable chocolate milk inside his barrel, the salty, fishy smell of the ocean far below, the smell of rust on unseen metal- probably inside the holes above, and… A sickly-sweet smell; almost like rotting fruit, only stronger and with the metallic tang of blood mixed in.

"Miasma: why would we be able to smell it here?" He thought it over for a moment- then had an idea.

Changing which direction he was looking, Aldritch started looking down, towards the ocean.

"There's an island. It looks... shattered? Could it have fallen from the sky?" Oakairo asked, directing Aldritch's attention to a spot on the ocean that was no larger than the eye of a needle.

"Aldritch."

"I know." Aldritch replied and lifted his left foot- Crash! The ward shattered beneath his heel and gravity once again took hold of him.

As he fell, curiosity got the better of him and he looked back to Azuris island- and saw the island was also falling- It was falling slowly, more like a bird gliding on the breeze than Aldritch's meteoric fall, but it was losing altitude…

Which stopped the moment the ward repaired itself and resealed the island inside its protective bubble.

Aldritch watched the island slowly climb back to its previous altitude. "I think I know how the other island reached its current state." He muttered while staring at the bottom of Azuris island.

"Once we get back, we absolutely cannot break the ward again until I fix that self-repair issue. If that ward is what's keeping them in the air, then there's no reason for it to be so slow… Unless the ward stones are overburdened? That could certainly cause it to slow down significantly. Hmm…" Aldritch glanced down and remembered the ocean was rapidly closing the distance between them.

"O' mighty Oakairo; my king and guiding light, let my words reach you on dragon's wings. With my body as the vessel, bring your judgment down upon these pitiable creatures: Aspect of the Dragon - Wings." Aldritch whispered, forced to speak the full incantation due to the powerful nature of the spell.

The Aspect of the Dragon series of spells were all eighth level spells and were exclusive to Aldritch's class 'Dragon Priest'.

The amount of mana required to cast one would kill a normal spell caster, even Aldritch felt slightly drained from using it. In return, it allowed Aldritch to manifest a single aspect of Oakairo's power.

In this case, his wings.

"Permission granted. My wings are yours."

Six resplendent, angelic wings manifested behind Aldritch- four at his shoulders that allowed him to fly, and two just above his waist that allowed for finer aerial control. The feathers of each one sparkled like the finest polished silver, while the inner membranes were illuminated from within by a marvelous golden light.

The wings arrested Aldritch's momentum with a single, powerful flap- then a second one propelled him towards the island.

Without the ward interfering with his senses, Aldritch could smell the miasma even more clearly now.

The ocean smelled of rot, and the smell only grew stronger as he drew closer to the island.

Aldritch flicked his arm, causing the sleeve of his robe to move enough to reveal the golden solid gold wrist brace that never left his left arm.

"Sense any devils?" He asked while staring down at the kite-shield symbol engraved into the surface of it.

"No."

"Understood." He bit down on the tip of his tongue, causing a small amount of blood to pour from the tip- then reached out with his tongue and pressed the blood into the center of the engraving.

The engraving shined with a faint golden light for a few seconds, before it began to shift: The lines once dug into the golden brace flattened out- then kept expanding outwards.

The golden brace shifted and swelled as the blood sank deeper into the gold.

Within seconds, the engraving had become actualized; A massive shield that was nearly as tall as Aldritch, and half again as wide was attached to his arm via the wrist brace, however it could be detached if, and when, necessary.

Though the engraving was of a kite shield, the thing on Aldritch's arm was far too heavy, and much too thick to be called such.

It was a tower shield; An eight-inch thick, rectangular slab of gold.

A dense titanium plate protruded a few inches from the center of the shield, while lines of silver, cold iron, and tungsten branched out from the center like arcs of electricity.

The edges of the shield curved backwards slightly to help disperse strikes.

And at the very bottom of the shield was a seven-inch long tungsten and cold iron spike.

Though it weighed more than most dragon's he'd met, and its length meant it would nearly touch the ground every time he moved, Aldritch carried the shield with a single arm.

This was Oakairo's final gift to his most beloved high priest before taking possession of Aldritch's heart; the total collection of Oakairo's hoard; melted down, and forged into something Aldritch wished could never break… And then enchanted with enough reinforcement magic to make that wish a certainty.

It was time to introduce Iolara to the reason Aldritch's clan were given the name 'Blackshield'.