This is still a story of the Becoming Monsters universe by Ai Loves, setting used with permission. All canonical and mechanical errors are my own. The yarrb is the exceedingly cute creation of FelisRandomis, used with permission.
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Chapter 42: Death and Taxes
Friday morning. Traditionally the sprint to the weekend began here, but not for us. Not today. We were trying to savor it. One last day off. Or... kind of. We had a mission today. Sarah and Amber were crafting. Whitney and Emily were researching. The rest of us? Well, that was a bit more interesting.
"Okay, so, see these two runes? You don't have to be an Enchanter to carve them, or empower them, just the middle step. So. Jay and Paige? You two are strong enough to put them in easily. Make sure they're in the right spots, like in the picture!" Sarah was explaining her standby project to us. This involved carving tiny sigils into individual links of chain mail. "I'll check them once you do, set any good ones, and those can be energized by Lucy."
Paige was looking at the tiny rings of metal closely. "So... how many of these do you need done for the project?"
Sarah glanced briefly down at her notes. "This is for the armor I'm making for you and Whitney. Each set will take a minimum of 450 enchanted links, the more the better. Given that it's a relatively small direct area, this is actually way more efficient than the full mail I have up next." She was looking at me directly for that part. I should probably explain. An offhand comment I had made earlier in the week had led Sarah to theorize and successfully write out a formula that would allow her to make enchanted armor. One that would let our incredibly agile frontliners retain their speed and reflexes while gaining full-body protection, up to and including their wings' main joints. One that would withstand the environmental rigors they were frequently subjected to... or creating.
Chainmail bikinis. Enchanted with magical auras of protection that would cover their bodies to deflect glancing blows and mitigate direct ones. Presumably also modified somehow to be comfortable, but that wasn't my particular expertise.
I shook my head. Each of the tiny carvings was four precisely placed notches. "I'm assuming Paige and I are doing this because you will be working on the Battery project today?"
"You got it in one, and Amber is helping me. You're going to save me a ton of work by doing this, a lot of time. Carving nine hundred of those things is the worst part of this project. Even when you're done, it'll take me a long time to make sure they're all properly set, but any bad ones that get integrated into the final project will either weaken the whole structure or open a hole in the protections about the size of a baseball. I'll add more tricks later, but there are too many projects in front of me for now to worry about them. While you're doing this part, I'll be working on what I hope is the final build of my Greater Masterwork"
Lucy spoke up from across the table. "Are you absolutely sure you can't make a chainmail bikini for Jay, too? He should match!"
Everyone at the table roared with laughter, which only increased when Sarah replied "I could, but he'd break it the first time he looked at the others in theirs!"
Breakfasts in the Kithkin Clan were a good time. This one, though, was interrupted suddenly by a knock. Now, I'm not one to begrudge a visitor. We'd had a few well-wishers this week, after all. Friends, coworkers, and one fan who managed to track us down to hand-deliver a teddy bear for Nibbles. Knocking was normal. What wasn't normal was that this came from the balcony window. Exactly one person had any business doing that who wasn't already seated at the table, and we knew he was on sabbatical visiting family in California.
The laughter stopped instantly, and I picked up my saber and shield from the nearby equipment closet before answering. The process took perhaps ten seconds, and in that time the others got some of their own equipment to hand. Wands, whips, batons, a pistol. Mental trigger fingers at the ready to launch whatever spell was needed. Another knock came from the balcony, hard enough to rattle the windows in their frames. In a rush, I pulled open the door and dove outside to face what was coming.
I was not expecting this. The apartment I shared with my Guild was on the sixth floor of the building. An enormous reptilian body was stretched from our balcony to the ground, with room to spare. The knocking had come from one titanic talon banging against our window. A head large enough to swallow me whole, clad in silvery scales like the rest of its body, was staring at me intently as I braced myself for combat. Huge wings stretched to both sides, easily over a hundred feet across. A Silver Dragon, and not a weak one either. It had the drop on me, my teammates out of range to support, and most of its kind's many weapons were pointed directly at where I stood.
Not even the biggest and baddest monsters my Guild had taken down ever had me dead to rights like this.
The thing was breathing in, only one thing for it if I wanted to survive the next few seconds. Diving left, off the balcony, wings snapping open to catch my descent, scars screaming at me for their sudden mistreatment. A puff of winter breath slammed into the doorway I had just gotten away from, sealing it closed with multiple inches of ice. My heart felt as cold as if I had been in the blast properly. That locked my Guild away from supporting me. I would be facing this threat alone, and I had no illusions about my ability to do so even on my best day.
Only one way to do this. Banking hard, I beat my wings with all of my strength to launch myself at the face of the threat. I had to end the fight fast. Dragons were powerful, tough, and smart. Especially ones as huge as this one. I had a small amount of resistance to ice, so if it had an aura I should be able to endure it momentarily. Translation: I needed to get a rapid, lethal strike without hesitation, or it would kill me the second it could isolate the threat.
Its head was only slowly turning to face me, this was the only opportunity I'd get. The Guild Leader's Saber, gifted to me by Sarah and empowered by a ritual conducted by my full Guild, glowed with white and gold light as I struck with all my might.
A chiming sound, and my arm felt like it was about to rip out of its socket. Somehow, the Dragon had managed to interpose its claw between my blade and its eye socket, blocking with the much-thicker scales there. I could see a deep scar along where I hit, the mighty saber nearly penetrating entirely through the dragonscale hide, but it did no real damage. Most certainly not a disabling or killing blow like I needed. It wasn't even roaring, it didn't even hurt. I was dead. My moment of surprise was gone and wasted, my guildmates would not be able to get to me in time.
"Are you done panicking?"
... what? The voice that I heard sounded like an old woman, someone with a few too many miles and experiences behind her. A Southern Belle that long since grew up and seen life go by. Thing is, there wasn't anyone nearby who could have said that... except the Dragon. That wasn't a monster. It was a person, a woman who had gotten the form in the Change. Someone who likely had legitimate business with me, and who I had just tried to murder. That might make this awkward. I landed back on my balcony, my heart rate still through the roof, trying to shake off the adrenaline crash. I didn't sheathe my sword, mostly because I hadn't had time to even grab the scabbard in the rush. The entire process, from stepping out onto the balcony to landing back on it, had taken perhaps a dozen seconds. "Forgive me, but who are you, and why are you here?"
