Chapter 567 – A Thousand Years of Vengeance – Under the Dragoneye Moons – Book 13 stumps 10/6

Nearly 75 years after the events of the Phoenix Peaks

Lossamiel does (Sworn Revenge) on the (Slaves) from Urwa.

She had been meticulous at first. He kept a list of those responsible for kidnapping her, passed her around before beating her in chains and silks and putting her up for auction. A list of the (auctioneers)the buyers, the suppliers and the hated Emir Eabd.

To be one (Slave)being branded and forced to dance wasn’t the end of the world. It was bad, but it was nothing.

Pain and raw emotion were currency, an entertainment, and Lossamiel, along with the other slaves, had occasionally been tortured for the entertainment of the night, surrounded by laughing and mocking elves.

Then there were the wells…

As the freshness and novelty of Lossamiel began to wear off, the (Emir) and the rest had dug deep for new entertainment.

Lossamiel could still hear her scream as tiny feet kicked helplessly, inches above the engraved marble. Every detail was seared into her memory, from the way her wrists broke against the restraints, to the exact pattern of the shirt’s weave, to the choking gurgles. The horn tubercles that hadn’t even revealed the shape of the antlers. The carefully timed cruelty of letting her go just now too late to do anything, the laughter as the party continued around her, sobbing over her daughter’s death.

That was when she had done that (Sworn Revenge)and it didn’t matter WHO she got lost in her search.

All of Urwa was rotten and needed to be purified. Everyone involved was either a (Slaver) and deserved to die, a citizen who helped and benefited from the system and was complicit, or even a slave who would die for their (Slaves) killed along with them.

One day freedom came. She had been sold to a less cautious master who had no problem with ‘refusal’ from the emir, a cheap bargain for ‘high quality goods’. He wasn’t very good at chain lengths and skills, and Lossamiel could have danced close enough to wrap her chains around his neck and strangle him.

An orgy of violence had ensued, with Lossamiel taking out her anger on the slavers closest to her before calming down and think.

Lossamiel does planned. It was a shame for the mortals whose lives would be too short to benefit from her move, it was torture for the remaining slaves, but it was better to do so right then a short-lived and useless rebellion.

The first thing she studied was the locations of all of them (emirs) And (Sultans). How they worked, what the whole slave network looked like. What her targets were and where.

The information was available for free and cost Lossamiel virtually nothing. Just the city toll to get into a city with a library, and she was done.

The next project was more difficult.

The general form was simple and much talked about, but the details, the particulars, were so limited as to be practically forbidden.

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The Guardians, and how they operated.

Lossamiel had spent twenty years putting together a loose theory of how they worked based on various stories and tales, but even then most of them dealt with Guardians who appeared after an attack. There were none firm data on how they intervened in channeled or well-prepared attacks. Just the rare passage in a limited book that reads “Sentinel Queen and The Nightmare were seen in conversation on such and such a date.”

Guardians were people too, and as far as Lossamiel knew, it was a social conversation between two ancient immortals, and had nothing to do with prepared attacks.

She still managed to develop a theory, and she would find out how accurate it was.

The third was studying the divine decrees and dimensional magic. This was by far the most duration company that has to pay for an internship with a senior (Mage) who knew how it worked and didn’t like competition. Making portals was difficult but doable, but making portals was not tear the fabric of space, simply pushed around?

A lot more difficult. If it kept the gods from simply beating her and preventing her revenge, it was all worth it.

It took a few more years to get her skills to a comfortable place and figure out the best course of action, but once that was done, the elf rose high into the sky, beyond the clouds, beyond where there was air. Lossamiel carefully aligned her portals, making sure they were aimed at the infinite expanse of deep space, beyond the horizon of Pallos.

She had considered aiming them at the ocean, but the threat of a tsunami would probably be enough to summon the Guardians too early. No, it was best to direct them away from someone to go unnoticed and unnoticed.

Then she dropped her steel balls into the portals, a dozen abilities playing off each other. Aim, survive, make sure the attack penetrates well. Reading currents and playing with mass. They fell through, but reappeared a few meters away in the exit portal, ‘above’ the original portal.

The fast thing went in, the fast thing came out, and Lossamiel’s steel balls accelerated to terrifying speeds within minutes.

She didn’t just mean it terrifying.

Minutes.

O’clock.

To dawn.

Years.

Decades.

Shera, The Dreamer, swam slowly through the depths of the ocean. She was a Leedsichthys, one of the titans of the deep, but she wasn’t rather the largest. Blue whales, Krakens and leviathans were larger. She was often mistaken for a leviathan, and most creatures managed to avoid tangling with her.

A shark took a curious nibble and she simply directed the current to place it in her mouth, biting down with a satisfying bite. crunch from breaking cartilage. She turned her attention back to the ripples in the world.

Shera was a Guardian, and one of the gifts she was given was the ability to see ripples, for lack of a better word. Focal points where disaster threatened. There were all kinds of qualities in the ripples, from frequency to intensity, to color, flavor and more.

Nearly every living thing caused ripples, and the vast majority were ignored. It was almost easier to see the unusual ripples in the sea of ​​ordinary ones, and to intervene was a judgment call.

A rare ripple came from the shoreline, tasting like fish, colored blue and small and rare. Some (Mermaid) no doubt they are trying to conjure up enough water to drown the world, but they lack the skills and coordination succeed. Maybe there would be a change of a few millimeters in the level of the ocean, nothing that the tides wouldn’t wash away.

Now if King Nereus were to try to organize the merfolk en masse to drown the landfolk, perhaps in retaliation for his daughter being slaughtered and eaten by orcs for the immortality her body provided, it could cause a much bigger ripple, then one Shera should do this. explore and squeeze out before the world was flooded and drowned. Again.

A hungry series of pitch-black ripples came from a shelf in the ocean, and the intensity and frequency were finally great enough to spur Shera into action. With a few flicks of her mighty tail, she sped through the depths and came to a chasm where a leviathan had been felled by a single swallowed Vorler egg. It had hatched from the inside, poisoned the leviathan, and then feasted on the body, reproducing wildly for generations. The ancient monster was now dead and a vast swarm of Vorlers threatened to overrun life in this corner of the ocean.

Shera prevented all that by crushing them to death with the weight of the deepest depths of the ocean, magnified twelve times. It was as if the hand of a god had fallen on them, and on Shera took care of it not a single tiny egg would survive.

Perhaps it was time to dream again, to imagine the vast endless impossibilities that her Mirror element could then give rise to.

Then one of the endless distant ripples changed dramatically in frequency and intensity. It had been building up for years and years, but at such a low level that it was ignored. It was suddenly at such a high level that each Guardian intervened and Shera immediately moved, leaving behind devastating currents, reshaping parts of the world, heading straight for the ripples.

Atop the lazily rotating moon, obscured by mirages that had lasted tens of thousands of years, a single sprout defied the odds to burst from the ground and unfurl leaves in an impossibly hostile environment.

Lossamiel shifted the portals a hair, directing them from a harmless location to populated city centers. She launched her attack with a single word, knowing she would die moments later.

But her revenge would be complete.

“(Moon attack).”