The Witch of Flowers lifted her gaze to the setting sun, grimacing amongst the wrecked testing facility. Well, I know we need to research more durable material now. A soft sigh escaped her.
“Is there a problem with my performance, Mistress?” The corrupted Frustaz asked, his voice hollow and filtered by the sealed mask. Shells clattered on the floor as he reloaded his revolver, being replaced with fresh rounds, the gun returning to its holster. “I can do more-”
“No, No, No. You’ve very well demonstrated your ability to absolutely devastate even our strongest materials. Karth, can you reforge or reuse any of the damaged metals today?” Ylbe pinched her brow, before calling out to the scribbling vermillion kinfolk, who sat high above the humanoid pair. A solid thumbs up from the dragonoid gave a slight bit of relief. “Frustaz, can you reduce the power of your weapons in any capacity? I don’t want you shooting through multiple creatures if I can help it.”
He nodded. “I can remove a few of the damage and penetration mods, depending on the assignment.”
“Good, I need you to limit the penetration while maximizing damage. You’ve shown you can single handedly take on some of our most troublesome beasts, actively damage Shinpi-tekitetsu, and have nearly killed Karth with the goddamn pirate cannon, all in a matter of two days.”
“To be fair, that was my fault for trying to fire the.. What did you call it, Frustaz?” Karth, having climbed down from his perch, joined the conversation properly.
“Rad-Kuva Zarr.”
“Yes, that, and considering the arcane shadow it’s left behind, that may be the most devastating of your weapons.” Karth giggled, as his mind began to turn.. “If we can replicate the energy signature from what I’m assuming is an enchantment chamber, perhaps we could do some population control–”
Ylbe slammed her staff on the table. “Not only no but hell no. That energy signature is off limits.”
“Why not? It’s not like we would use it on our own people–Mhmmrhm!” Karth began, before Ylbe held a closed fist in front of herself, sealing the dragon’s mouth.
“If I so much as find out that you replicated that energy signature, I’m bringing you and the entire research team before the Emperor for treason.” Ylbe leaned close, her vibrant eyes glowing with a mixture of fear and malice. “Even one failure can kill not just a single individual, but an entire province in a matter of moments. Weapons using that energy have been used to erase entire cities nearly 5 times the size of Canterlot off the map in less than a minute, not counting the lasting damage to the environment.” Ylbe released him, pushing him back from the table of guns. “Do. not. Replicate. That. Energy. Type.”
Karth glared for a moment, before the click of a gun pressed to the back of his skull, causing him to wither. “Shall I, Mistress?”
Ylbe looked long and hard at the now quivering lizard. “No. Stand down.” Frustaz pulled back, allowing Karth to crumple in fear. “Pack up and come along. You have a mission to start.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
I am a prisoner once more. Frustaz thought as he experienced the meal as a passenger in his own body. I can experience everything, but I’m stuck unable to act. Something else is in control, and I can’t stop it. How much time has been lost? First I get scorched by that tar, and the next thing I know my body is holding the Kuva Zarr and I’m no longer in control. His mental grumbling would be interrupted by the annoyed witch.
“Frustaz.” Naru. You got some explaining to do…
“Yes, Mistress?” The puppet responded. Why Mistress of all things? The only time I ever called you that was during that one bet over Sword Art’s secret chapter.
“Can’t you be more expressive?” I would be if you’d help me be free of whatever nonsense is happening..
“Mistress, I do not understand the question.” Obviously you don’t, you’re an idiot who’s somehow taking me for a ride.
“Frustaz, can you relax?” I’d love to. Really would.
“I am relaxed. I am not in a situation where I need to be alert.” Oh of course you are, Mr. Perfect machine. Frustaz grumbled more, watching Ylbe doing the same. …No pout? Hm… No, no nonono FUCK YOU NOT AG- The darkness of unconciousness consumed him again, leaving the puppet without those random thoughts once more.
…. He’s so boring now. Ylbe idly nibbled at her bun, as the white haired thrall ate before her, his every motion stiff, but fluid. Nothing in excess, a well oiled machine. He is still very protective, although it’s misplaced. Another well measured sip from him, an exceedingly quiet breath, before he resumed. “Frustaz.”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Can’t you be more expressive?”
“Mistress, I do not understand the question.”
Fuck. “Frustaz, can you relax?”
“I am relaxed. I am not in a situation where I need to be alert.”
“Fine. Continue on.” This is annoying. I can’t even passively feed with how little anything he gives. Ylbe grumbled quietly, only getting a look from Frustaz before he resumed. This is fine. It will prevent me from getting attached.. Ylbe set her bun down, waving down the waitress. A box was set down before her while her thoughts continued to circle. I still need to get a few reagents from the alchemist, pack some rations for the two of us, and prepare the airship…
Days passed before they finally neared El Nera, the volcanic island that was the primary nesting grounds and seat of power for the mainland dragons. Despite the distance between the two draconic nations, they had remained stalwart allies through the generations, and the airship was greeted with a swath of defenders.
Ylbe sighed and stood up as the airship stalled. Time to get up. Ylbe’s ears twitched as she heard the distinct cocking of a rifle. “No! No! They’re allies doing their job, Put that damn weapon down!” Ylbe scrambled from the lower bedrooms to the above helm, gasping as she received a blank stare from Frustaz.
“Mistress, I suggest you put clothing on.” He gestured to her casual t-shirt and shorts. “Dragon scales and claws will tear through soft clothing.”
Ylbe’s eyes narrowed as grabbed the rifle from Frustaz, and placed it back on the rack for his weapons. “My clothing is fine, but you need to stop resorting immediately to drawing your weapons.”
The carriage rocked as a large green dragon landed on the deck, bound in dark armor, and bearing a pair of sweeping orange horns. “Greetings, and welcome back to El Nera, Princess Ylbe.” He huffed at the surrounding dragons. “Scatter, the lot of ye.” The nest defenders nodded and flew back down to the caldera’s rim. “M’pologies for the high alert, the sky twins let another of their convicts out of the garden o’ secrets. What’s bringing ye to El Nera?”
Chuckling, the mage stepped out and greeted the dragon lord. “Greetings to you too, Dragon Lord Torch. I’m actually here regarding some errands, and I brought help for that.” She gestured over to the dark metal humanoid, who seemed tense. “Frustaz, dock the ship at the sapphire dock.” Ylbe waved him away, before leaning against one of the guard rails. “It’s unusual for you to meet us mid-air.”
“It’s just a might unusual for ye to show up without announcement either. So, tell me, what are you really here for?” the Dragon Lord peered closely at the humanoid, who simply giggled.
“Precisely what I said before, errands.”
“Errands that require you to have no contact with your ally, and a heavily armored guard who smells of ice and trouble?”
“Yes, as well as our airship to be hidden in the sapphire dock. We’re heading to Equestria after all.”
Torch snorted. “Yer real ballsy, ya know? Do you even have a point of contact or maps in Equestria? Lodgings, food, anything?”
“I would think our dear allies would have those resources easily at hand, being ever so much closer to Equestria than we are. Are you telling me you don’t?” Ylbe tilted her head, resting her cheek in hand. “I would never ask of such favors without some form of reparations between our respective countries.”
The Dragon Lord scratched at his neck, humming softly. “Building goods, like that teck stew stuff you use. We nearly lost a clutch of bronzes due to a cave in. More dragons, more weight, you know the problems.”
“Did the clutch survive?”
“The whole nest was saved by a young visiting dragon. Never seen a dragon that shade of purple before, but you never know when an oddball will hatch. Do we have an agreement though?” Torch held out a claw, palm up.
Ylbe rested her hand in the claw, and shook it. “I’ll let the trademasters know to add two dozen support beams in the next shipment, as well as an architect to help install them where they’re needed.” She smiled at the now grinning Torch, whose wings spread.
“Good dealings, little one. I’ll go get the communication chains rattling. Expect you in an hour at the feasting hall?”
“Thirty minutes. Polymorph has gotten significantly easier to cast.”
A nod and a beat of wings, and the dragon lord drifted back to the nesting grounds, whilst Ylbe returned to the cabin. “Frustaz.”
“Yes?”
“Do not interrupt me during the spell, and do not enter the room.”
“Very well.”
True to her word, the transformed mage wandered into the feasting hall as a slender, silvery-white dragon, with her staff tucked under a leathery wing. A few heads glanced at her, but resumed their consumption of the meats and gems set before them. Like a shadow, Frustaz followed closely, his helmet barely moving as he eyed the room’s inhabitants.
Torch turned and gave a brief nuzzle to the mage. “Welcome back, Little Princess.”
“Why do you always become so affectionate the moment I walk in? It’s not like you didn’t have the opportunity earlier.” Ylbe chuckled, taking a place beside the dragon lord. A plate of meat was set before her near immediately by another draconid bearing a massive spit of some beast. “Griffin?”
“Eeyup.”
“We sent kitchen supplies, and you’re still.. Spit roasting.” Ylbe glanced over at Torch, a mixture of confusion and frustration.
Torch chuckled, pulling apart a massive leg of yet another beast. “Ol’ Toasty used the ovens, fire pits, and various other tools that you provided to make his cooking better. However, Spit roasting is still ‘is specialty, and I ain’t gonna complain.”
Ylbe frowned, before rising to her unfamiliar claws. “I’ll speak with Toasty then, see what he’s learned since. Frustaz, stay here, and enjoy the meat.” Ylbe rose to her unfamiliar claws and began to slink towards the kitchen of the nest.
Frustaz watched as she left, before glancing to the meat plate.
“So, Frustaz, correct?” Torch spoke around a mouthful of meat.
“Yes. That is Correct.”
“Speak up, I can’t hear you.”
The masked man tilted his head, only to reach up and twist a hidden nob. “Yes. Can you hear me now?”
Torch snorted. “Yer hopeless, golem. Not what I meant.” The Dragon Lord turned and stared down the man who was unsealing the helmet, revealing his tained features. “Oh, so you ain’t just a lump of metal and magic. Int’restin.”
“Never have been.” A quiet bite of the meat from Frustaz caused Torch to narrow his view.
“So what were you before you started your service to Zarkesh?” A sly grin formed on Torch’s face, as Frustaz’s fingers froze mid motion. “Silent are we? You can’t have come from nothing… Got any family?”
Frustaz shook his head, before taking a bite of the proffered meat. “You’ve met her, and seem to know her quite well, since she has changed since we separated.”
“How did you seperate?”
“From what I understand of magic, I would guess it would have been an interdimensional teleportation accident.” Frustaz cocked an eyebrow at Torch. “Is there a purpose to this?”
“Oh there is. Last question: Illua is another human whose story says she ‘fell’ into this world 300 years ago or so. Is she your enemy?”
Frustaz frowned. “Illua has shown great skill as a warrior, enough to concern the Emperor. I believe she could be an asset to the Emperor, if given the offer, but it is not my place to raise such concern.”
“Fine. Eat, your ‘sister’ is almost back.”
The armored man shrugged as he continued to pull meat from bone, eliciting a pitying chuckle from Torch. “Your ‘brother’ is quite easy to tease it seems. He’d better serve with everything intact, if y’know what I’m saying.” The dragonlord snickered at the sudden glare from Ylbe.
“I would greatly appreciate it if you'd kept your claws out of this matter.” The dragon shaped mage slid a plate off her wing laden with fruits, vegetables, and a fair sheaf of meat. “I will say, Toasty has done surprisingly well with his new tools, and is training a new generation for whoever replaces you.” A giggle escaped her. “So, who are we being entrusted to?”
Torch swallowed, before motioning with his horns towards a thestral pony with a violet mane. “Star Strider is our pony contact, and acts as ambassador to Equestria for us. They already know they will be escorting you back to Canterlot.”
“Very good. How soon would we arrive?”
“You’d arrive just in time for the big duel.”
“Duel? Between who?”
“Illua the Rebellious and Celestia the Sun Princess.”
Ylbe blinked. “Celestia, dueling? Surely you must–”
“It’s no joke, little one. ‘Parently, there’s been bad blood between them that’s lingered for centuries, and they’re being fairly civil about it instead of going right back to war.” Torch grinned. “It’d be good to gauge your opponent.”
Ylbe smiled. “Yes, I quite agree.” the mage dug into her delightful meal as the machinations of her mind turned. Illua will have been weakened, and we will have a fair gauge of what she can and cannot do. All for the better.