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Chapter Text

Frog’s Gambit

“Time is a storm, in which we are all lost.” ~ William Carlos Williams

“Stop waiting for the perfect time. The perfect time is Now.” ~ Unknown

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Andrias lazily lounged upon his throne as one of the Generals, Yunan, gave their report on messages of importance. As per usual, there was nothing really happening. Sure, there was a political uprising in the works in The Valley, following the example of some elder frog. The Toad Towers were already preparing to put the potential rebellion to bed before it could even rise. A typical modern toad response really, nowadays they did not tolerate losses well. It was all so routine after a thousand years. 

Yunan coughed, catching Andrias attention. “And the traitor, Grime, is still at large and currently being aided by a-.” jumping aside, the newt General dodged a messenger wasp, with a yelp, as it brought forth a large scroll…well large by the definition of his subjects. For him it was honestly quite small.

Humming to himself in satisfaction, Andrias paused for a moment to put on his reading glasses, and opened the scroll. It was a normal scroll for the most part, save for the tiny envelope fastened to the bottom. Swiftly scanning the contents of the message, Andrias announced, more for the sake of getting to dismiss the general early more than anything, “It’s a message from Marcy! It seems like she is making progress,” Suddenly noticing Leif’s sigil in one of Marcy’s paragraphs, Andrias froze as the set of his shoulders tightened for a moment before he reasserted himself, “We can further address the political situation of the outskirts and how to handle the Grime situation tomorrow. It’s getting late and if we continue we will be here past midnight.” Pausing only to reroll the scroll back up, eyeing the sigil one more time as he did so,  Andrias rose from his seat.

Ignoring the soft, confused “Sire?” from General Yunan, Andrias strode past her and made his way through the halls of the castle. He meandered to the rarely used hallway with the statue of his father. He paused there, standing and looking up at his father for a minute, thinking. If his father was not assimilated into The Core, what would he say. A faint echo of, ‘Forget those childhood friends of yours ,’ echoed in his head as he turned his gaze downwards to the letter. He felt like his eyes were burning into the portion of the letter where he knew Leif’s sigil would be, before he made his choice. 

Andrias turned away from the statue and the hidden passageway towards a private reading room set aside just for him. He ignored the disapproving eyes of the statue glaring holes into his back as he walked away from it. He had to finish reading the letter in full, get an understanding of everything that Marcy had found before he presented it to his Lord, anyway. Bringing this all to it now would just earn him further disapproval for not getting all of the facts together. Ignoring the pinprick, phantom sensations of long replaced limbs with the ease of long practice, Andrias let himself imagine that he could feel the soft cushions and supple satin textures of the furniture instead of the vague impression of pressure that the prosthetics provided as he eased himself down into a comfortable looking chair. There was precious little of him that could truly feel such things, nowadays. Sighing, Andrias set the scroll up so that he could read it again. It was only an afterthought which placed his reading glasses onto his snout so he didn’t have to strain his eyes in the waning evening light and the dim candle light. 

Within the scroll, Marcy had detailed her group’s exploration of the First Temple and the grand success of repowering the Wit gem. Smirking to himself as he thought, once again, of the prophecy coming undone at the hands of it’s very subjects. A more ironic twist on things than His Lord’s desire to just kill the girls. A flash of Marcy’s innocent smile flared in his mind’s eye as and a wave of guilt burned through him for an instant. Turning his gaze back to the rest of the letter, he let himself be absorbed by Marcy’s excitement as she described an adventure that they had within the depths of the Plantar family’s basement, or would it be a dungeon within it’s various layers? He pondered that for a moment before settling on the term dungeon, more because it amused him to imagine a farming family having an expansive dungeon under their dwelling than anything else. 

Once Marcy had finished describing the sentient vegetable that had been contained within the dungeons, and how Anne had brought up the idea that it may been created by something akin to a special fertilizer that the townsfolk made use of, Andrias allowed himself to contemplate the thought of adding this fertilizer to his barracks for use as a potential siege weapon. The thought of using an enemy force’s own food supply against them tickled that so-called juvenile part of himself he kept lit. He could almost imagine how Leif would-. 

Releasing that thought into the void and refusing to contemplate on it further, Andrias smiled at how Marcy mentioned that they were working on the logistics of bringing the sentient vegetable to Newtopia for the Royal Guard to inspect. The creature itself had proven to be relatively docile once it was outdoors and taking in sunlight, so long as the young Plantar boy was kept away from it. She speculated that the mobile vegetable might have potential use as a form of steed or draft animal, with a potential secondary use as a food source should the seeds the creature spewed prove to be edible. 

Turning his attention away from Marcy’s frenetic speculations on the gourd-beast, its potential uses, and the unusual fertilizer; Andrias eyed the next paragraph with a weary eye. Leif’s sigil stared back at him unerringly. Taking a deep breath and setting his resolve, Andrias continued reading. Marcy described having gotten separated from the group at one point during their explorations and finding Leif’s sigil burnt into the wood of the door underneath the Plantar family sigil. She had been unable to open the door at the time, and had brought the Plantar family back to it when the mystery of what was behind it kept her awake that night.

The group had to use some kind of book that the Plantar family possessed to open the door and gain access to its contents. Behind the door, there had been a surprisingly humble room (at least in comparison to the rest of the rooms that the Plantar family had encountered). A small bed, made to the standards of smaller frogs often found in The Valley, a writing desk, a hanging rack with Leif’s sigil on one of the cloaks…Andrias could only conclude that Marcy had somehow stumbled upon Leif’s hideaway. The red envelope attached to the bottom of the scroll contained a single sheet of red paper, seemingly blank. Marcy had mentioned including it in the hopes that they could check it to see if there was any hidden writing on the paper. 

Quickly putting his reading glasses on, Andrias could see Leif’s handwriting on the envelope itself. 

To: Andrias

Love Leif <3

With a shaking hand Andrias traced a finger over the writing softly, as if even the softest breeze would steal those words away like the frog who wrote them. Seeing that the words were still there, even after tracing them, Andrias steeled himself before carefully opening the envelope. Inside, more of Leif’s elegant loops and characters danced across the page, hidden from the sight of most with that ingenious method they had devised together so long ago. 

My Dearest Andrias,

This message may never reach you, but I hope it does. I know you must hate me, but please hear me out. After hiding the Music Box on Earth, I knew I could never return to the kingdom. Change was scary and it was hard for me to open my heart to others again. But I’m glad I did. We spend our lives afraid of change, but after many years I realized the beauty of life is the change. 

And through it all, I had such wonderful memories of you. For even though you, Barrel, and I are no longer together, the two of you never really left my side. In the end, my only remaining wish is that somehow, someday; my love reaches you. So I’m begging you, my dearest friend, don’t close yourself off. Open your heart and follow it. 

With Love Always, 

Your Leif

Reading through it, brief imaginings danced through Andrias’ head. Leif; building a home, living under some assumed name, and finding love. Pollywogs and young frogs running around a gardening Leif, all of whom were similar in appearance to her…Leif growing old, shrinking a little, wrinkling up. Leif sitting down at some miniscule writing desk that he and Barrel might have once teased her about, and writing this letter in her old age. Tears beaded in his eyes, and a soft sob wracked his body. The first sob was followed by a second, harder one, which in turn was followed by a gut wrenching cry. Reaching up to his crown, he tossed it aside, haphazardly, as he bent over this letter, this last fragment of one of his dearest friends and let his tears flow. 

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Andrias did not know how long he had cried over the letter, but he did know it was late. Fireflies danced about the night sky, winking in and out of visibility among the stars. His Lor-…The Core, was likely waiting to hear if there had been any important news. He had kept it abreast of the situation involving the temples and The Core was eager for news in regards to the success or failure of the Gem’s energy transferal back to the Music Box. It was pretty unlikely it had accessed the Crown module to gather information due to the risk of exposure. Whatever other methods The Core had for getting its information, it was unlikely to have anything about the events of the last few hours.

Andrias already knew he could not let things continue as they had been so far. He could not be party to the machinations of The Core anymore. The acknowledgement of one of his dearest friend’s weighed him down, preventing even the slightest temptation of it. His father, The Core, neither were ever going to truly acknowledge his efforts…were they? You have almost made me proud…almost, echoes in his head with resounding clarity. There had been so many ‘almosts,’ but he cannot remember the last time there had been an actual declaration of pride. Mind made up on what to do, as the happiness he had found in his connection with Marcy, and in others, Andrias’ will surged onward with purpose in mind. 

Sighing, Andrias turned away from the window and went to the hall with the secret entrance. It would not do to leave his former lord alone to doubt his allegiance to it for any longer. He gave the judgemental statue of his father a glare, before pulling the lever to activate the secret entryway. Andrias dipped down into the now revealed stairway and made his way into the depths of the castle. Brushing aside a trio of Shadowfish darting through, he came to the resting room of the Core. 

Kneeling, Andrias took off his crown in a show of deference to the Core. His head down and turned away from the mechanical conglomerate, eyes closed, as was usual for initiating a report for it. 

“The Prophecy is being undone as we speak, My Lord,” he stated. Leif’s words echoed in his head, and his heart ached with longing for those who had long left him behind, one walking away of her own accord and the other pushed to the outskirts by Andrias’ own actions. He missed them more now than he had in over eight hundred years. Eyes burning in his skull, faded memories of old friends blazing in his mind, Andrias continued, “We will have our revenge.”

Chapter Text

Newtopian Gambit

“There is never enough time to do everything, but there is always enough time to do the most important thing.” ~ Brian Tracy

In a world where death is the hunter, my friend, there is no time for regrets or doubts. There is only time for decisions. ~ Carlos Castaneda

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Andrias crouched in his throne deep in thought, crown on the uppermost spoke of the throne’s back to avoid The Core slipping into his thoughts unnoticed. It was mid-morning, and General Yunan was due to come back to continue her report from last evening. Andrias knew that he wanted to do things differently, to stop being a ‘pawn’ to The Core’s ‘wart’. It was just that he could not figure out quite how. A traditional problem of figuring out how to start something, at the beginning of a new project that was all too familiar to him. 

A creak from the door to the throne room opening stole him away from his thoughts. The rush of murmuring from the crowd taking their places around the room silenced what few scattered thoughts he had left. Composing himself, Andrias put his crown back on and turned his gaze to the large double doors, giving a friendly smile as General Yunan marched in with the rest of the royal court following her. The young general kneeled as Andrias leaned forward and listened as a member of the court, Roderick dressed as he was in classic scribe’s clothing, recounted the minutes of yesterday evening’s meeting. Andrias took advantage of this to refresh his memory of the gist of General Yunan’s report, as the memories of it had slipped through his fingers with the emotional sucker punch that Leif’s letter had provided him. 

Once Roderick had finished recounted the minutes of that meeting, General Yunan started, “As we were discussing last night, Your Highness, there is great political unrest to the south, centred around The Valley. Rumours of riots breaking out against tax collectors have been found to have some truth to them. Your advisors fear that if we do not do something to shore up loyalties in that area, the unrest will spread and inflame the south against us.” The entire court stayed silent, only the scratching of Roderick’s pen interrupting the silence as he took the notes of the meeting.

Yunan sighed, before continuing, “Thankfully, we have had few reports that came in last night after our meeting. The information we garnered from them made mention that the return of the Plantars to their hometown has had some effect on easing the tension in The Valley. With Knight Guard Marcy Wu in the area we are hoping that she will work her,” here General Yunan paused as she searched for an adequate descriptor for the human girl, “unique charms on the citizens of The Valley and, in time, put the unrest to bed without the need for violence.” 

“Furthermore,” General Yunan furthered her report, “the Toad Lords are gathering at the Ancestral Tower. They have only ever done so when great change was on the horizon in the past, and this promises to be a similar situation. Mentions of the Traitor Grime being the cause of the gathering are occasionally mentioned, others mention a third human being the cause.” General Yunan gave a reptilian smile at the mention of the human, one that promised a good story should Andrias decide to inquire further. “Whatever is the case, this could spell disaster. The two are cooperating with one another, quite likely with the goal of retaking the South for their own ends. Should their future actions against the unrest to the south come to fruition, it is likely to inflame the citizens there into full on rebellion against loyal toads as well as our officials. It would be my advice to interject ourselves into the Toad Lords’ meeting, Your Highness, intercepting whatever the results may be and reminding them of their duties to you.”

Andrias gave a soft smile, and leaned forward a little, “Thank you for your report, General Yunan. We will take this information and bring it before my advisors and come up with a proper plan on how to handle this delicate situation.” He paused as a thought came to mind, a potential solution to his problems. “Roderick, if you could take the minutes of this meeting to the advisors. I will be retreating to the library, reviewing some of the historical texts to see if they might not have a solution. The rest of you can go do…” Andrias paused for a moment in thought, “whatever it is you do with your day. Chow!” Andrias gave his court the human peace sign that Marcy had taught to him. 

Rising up and letting his intimidating size ensure that others stayed out of his way, Andrias surged forwards to the exit. A small honour guard of Newtopian Rangers gathered to accompany him out into the city, following in his footsteps like murderous goslings. The hustle and bustle of Newtopia brought a melancholic joy to him, warmth coming from the thriving of the city and sorrow for the greatness that had been lost to time. He honestly did not know how to reconcile his usual confused emotions with his goals, accepting Leif’s actions but finding it incredibly hard to accept the harm that she had caused through them. He could remember a time when few of Amphibia’s fauna would bother Amphibians for fear of retribution, and look at how things were now. Few could travel anywhere without being confronted by some form or other of the predatory wildlife. How many deaths a year could be accounted for by the loss of the defensive technology they once had? When had he grown so emotional cold that he had stopped caring about that sort of thing, anymore?

Andrias shook himself from his thoughts as he reached his goal, the Newtopian Library. Grinning as he walked through the doors, the scent of aged paper wafting over him, Andrias strode over to the history section. Running a finger over spines of the books, he searched for ones that focused on the history of his ancestors and gathered them in his other hand. Once he had a small stack, he went and found himself a table to sit at as he browsed through the contents of the books. 

During the research period with Marcy he had mostly read a variety of history nonfiction books as Marcy searched in truth for information on the Music Box. He remembered having come across a book that caught his interest for its deep dive into his family history. There was some mention of an old story that his family had once starred in, that had jogged his memory to the early days of his reign. Something about olms and advice, which would explain how The Core got a hold of the prophecy in the first place. He wanted to make sure that what he was about to do was the right thing, because if it wasn’t…well he would be risking quite a bit, probably. 

Stopping in the aisle that he recalled finding the story in last time, Andrias ran a finger over the spines of the various books before finding the ones by the author that he recalled. Sighing to himself he picked the one he thought contained the story and flipped through it briefly. He froze for a moment upon seeing an illustration of olms prowling through the streets of what looked like a Newtopian style city before it was covered by the following pages. 

Flipping back to the illustration, Andrias took in the illustration in full. The olms were not just slithering through a Newtopian style city, they were within Newtopia herself. They had signs in their spindly hands, rendered unreadable as they were in the process of being tossed to the floor. The expressions of the creatures themselves are disgruntled, or upset. The newts and other amphibians in the illustration had backed away from the olms, with unreadable expressions on their faces. Confused, he reads through the information on the page.

In the year XVJE, the current Mother of Olms petitioned His Majesty Aravind to reconsider his current path. She claimed that there was still time for things to change and that if he continued down his current war path that dire happenings would occur. Lord Aravind disinclined to listen to the religious leader and stated that the future of Amphibia was in the stars and could only be taken by force.

The young Mother of Olms responded with this, and I quote, “Prosperity is only a tool to be used, not a deity to be worshipped. I request your Majesty to do the right thing and turn from your path of conquest. Down this path, there is not but suffering and heartache.”

The olm residents of Newtopia protested in the streets to show their support for Mother Olm through this trying time. Upon hearing that King Aravind would continue his plans, the olm race in it’s entirety took to the streets in peaceful protest.

After a fourth inquiry by the Mother of Olms that the plans for stellar conquest be put on hold, King Aravind silenced her and demanded that she remove herself from the city to prevent causing disorder. Disgusted by the abuse of power, it seems that the olms are leaving Newtopia enmasse. One cannot help but wonder -

Nope, wrong book. Still, it was close to what he was looking for and very interesting besides. Pocketing it for reading later, Andrias scanned the shelf again and spotted a similarly coloured book languishing in the space right beside the one he had just pulled out and flipped through. Andrias snorted a laugh to himself at the miniscule mistake so as to ignore the internal voice of self-judgement that came in the form of his father’s voice.

Long Ago, in Ancient Amphibia, a lineage of Leviathans ruled over Newtopia. They brought peace and safety to the city, for they had discovered a most useful mushroom crop, Fisher’s Blight. The mushroom was planted around the city, and the scent of it discouraged the ravenous predators of the land from coming near. Soon, the soft, citric smell of the mushroom dominated the valley and was taken as a sign of the peace that hung over the lake. Soon, other uses for the mushroom came to light, ranging from it’s ability to enhance a meal’s taste to medicinal properties. With the use of Fisher’s Blight, the town of Newtopia prospered and grew from a small fishing village into a metropolis. 

In time, however, a young son of the Leviathan line saw darker powers within the mushroom. Prince Alvain, using dark magics, grew his own garden of Fisher’s Bane and warped it into more powerful creations, such as Stinkshrooms & Boomshrooms. What had once brought prosperity and peace unto the town, was to be cultivated into a bringer of death and despair. 

Prince Alvain’s troubled parents sought out the Mother of Olms, who foretold that if Alvain continued down his troubled path that he would be defeated by a warrior of the toad ways. Upon hearing this, Prince Alvain left Newtopia determined to change his fate. In doing so, he only sealed it.

Not bothering to read the rest of the story, Andrias pinched the bridge of his snout and rubbed the spot for a moment in frustration. He did not like dealing with the olms at the best of times, and the best of times were almost a millenia ago. They tended to be snippy and he personally was someone that the olms were…unlikely to assist him given his past circumstances. Still, those were just that, past circumstances. There was a possibility that the olms would allow him to speak with the Mother of Olms if he were able to convey his desire to change, to do what his ancestor, Alvain, did not. The hardest part of all this, would be convincing the Core that it would be a good idea to check in with the olms while they were this close to victory.

Steeling himself, Andrias made for the secret entrance to the Core’s lair.

Andrias sat down on the stairs that lead up to the castle’s main entrance, his crown in his lap as he gazed down at it with a disturbed look upon his face. One of the advisors of his court, a young female newt in a pearlesque dress, the shirt of which was a soft violet in a scale pattern, stepped forward from the cluster that his court had made at the front gates. 

Sighing, before coughing into her fist, Lady Olivia asked, “King Andrias, is everything alright? You seem to be…” Olivia paused, gathering her thoughts before continuing, “upset by something.” 

“Lady Olivia, as your King, let me give you some advice. Do not ask questions that you do not want to know the answer to.” Andrias droned. Olivia, a little confused, began to reply when Andrias interrupted, “There are some things that newt was not meant to know.” The giant newt shivered, the clanging of metal resounding through the area with the movement as he groaned in disgust.  

Recomposing himself, Andrias stood up and startled Lady Olivia into taking a step back from her giant liege. “I’ll be needing a carriage prepared for a trip outside of Newtopia. I do not expect to take overly long, perhaps two weeks before I return. I’ll be heading out to Toad Tower, myself, to try and get a handle on the situation there. I will make a stop at the Ranger’s station on the way out to pick up some bodyguards before I go. There is a pit stop that we’ll be making on the way.” Clapping his hands together, Andrias surged forward to begin preparations.

The cluster of the court stood frozen at the door, before Lady Olivia started running after King Andrias. Distantly, the crowd could hear Olivia asking questions, before they came back to themselves and raced after the two royal newts.

Chapter Text

Four Pawns Gambit

“Deep conversations with the right people are priceless. ~ Unknown

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” ~ Leo Tolstoy

“It is better to be prepared for that which does not come, then unprepared for that which does come.” ~ Ray Evans 

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As Andrias set about getting the preparations for the journey started, Lady Olivia followed alongside. The myriad of questions about responsibilities put into mind the question of exactly who Andrias would leave in charge while he was out and about taking care of things. It needed to be someone who would put the duties  of the kingdom first and the advantages of the position last, no need to repeat the mishap of his tour of Amphibia. They would need to feel strongly about their beliefs and those beliefs would have to align with keeping the land and its people safe. They wou-...

Turning to Olivia, Andrias motioned for her to pause for a moment. “Lady Olivia, I would ask that you safeguard the kingdom while I am out taking care of business. I am aiming to find a race of people that live in the mountains south of Newtopia, to ask them for advice on how to go about Master Marcy’s situation. Afterwards, myself and a small entourage would visit the Toad Lords on the way back so that I can cut short any ideas about a rebellion. Do you think you are up to the task?”

“What! King Andrias, you can’t be serious!” Lady Olivia, sputtered. 

Andrias watched as the young lady, flustered, spiraled into a laundry list of reasons why she shouldn’t be the one placed in charge of Newtopia. Chuckling lightly, Andrias quirked an eyebrow and gazed down at Olivia. “My dear lady, are you questioning my judgment?” 

As Lady Olivia floundered for a response, before sighing and shaking her head. “No, your Majesty. I do trust your judgment.”

Smiling, Andrias marched onwards. Tossing a hand back as he moved forwards, Andrias continued, “I’ll send a letter to the court to let them know that you have agreed to oversee my responsibilities here while I am gone. You’ll likely get a ring with the King’s Seal before I head out.”

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Andrias sighed, as he lounged on his throne, enjoying the peace of a quiet break from getting ready before heading out. It had been so long since he toured Amphibia that he had forgotten just how exhausting getting everything prepared could be, especially a trip decided on such short notice. Preparing a caravan was no easy task. Bartley, Branson, and Blair stood in front of him, breathing a little heavily from having run to the throne room from wherever their laboratory in the castle was. 

“Triple B’s, nice to see you,” Andrias started, with a grand smile. “I was quite curious, which of Master Marcy’s novels have you had a chance to enjoy? I enjoyed the Cynthia Coven one myself, but I know the three of you enjoy more educational novels for your own reading. I am going to be on the road for a little while and was wondering what you would advise from the small collection she left behind.”

“I have been finding myself enjoying a small treatise on warfare, written by one of humanity’s greatest generals,” Bartley started, marbled purple tail swaying slightly as he shifted in place, “Sun Tzu’s writings were hard to get off of Master Marcy’s phone, before you granted us access to one of the computational relics in the castle to copy it off to.”

“As the King of a Thousand Years, I don’t think you’ll find anything in there that you have not already seen before,” protested Blair, giving a mild mannered smirk as he did so, “Besides, how would King Andrias take along the book with him. The only copy we have is still in the relic. He can’t take that with him.” The orange newt took a breath to continue, but was beaten to the punch by Branson.

“Which is why he should take this copy of human studies with him,” Branson declared, waving a flexible wad of colourful paper, outlined in yellow in his hand. Inside of the outline was a picture of a human smiling at the observer in unusual clothing. The title of the work was in flat, bright white lettering. “I am in the midst of deciphering it’s contents, but it seems like it discusses a variety of topics that humanity has been researching, over a variety of topics. It’s called ‘National Geographic’.” 

“No-one wants to do work on a road trip, Branson!” shouted Bartley, slapping the magazine out of Branson’s hands. “You haven’t finished deciphering it and just want to use King Andrias’ time to help finish your pet project. I think King Andrias would rather relax during the travel time.”

“Which is WHY!” interrupted Blair, “He should read this collection of poems I have found on Master Marcy’s phone. I have not finished getting them all translated into Amphibian, but I do have enough to bind them into a small book that His Majesty could take with him to enjoy and contemplate on his journey.” Blair teased Branson, quirking an eyebrow at him and showing off a wad of papers with his handwriting on it. “I had to ask Master Marcy for descriptions of some of the things within the poems so I could replace them with a fitting replacement from Amphibia, but it works out pretty well in the end.”

“Who wants to read poetry on a road trip Blair! NOBODY! That’s who Blair!” Bartley protested. Things quickly descended into a slap fight between the trio of newts, amusing Andrias in the process. His laughing set the fighting to a stop…eventually. 

“Thank you for the advice, Triple B’s. I’ll reach out to you once I settle on an idea.” Waving goodbye to them as Andrias dismissed them, he waited for a long moment as the three newts made their way out of the throne room. Just as they made it to the door, Andrias started again, catching their attention. “Actually, I just remembered another book I read that I thought might interest you.” It really was too much fun to jerk their metaphorical chains like this.

Picking it up from where he had left it behind the throne, Andrias strode over to the door and handed it to Blair. “It is an educational book about Earth’s past fauna, already translated for easy reading pleasure. Given how some of our wildlife looks like Earth’s native fauna at times, it was quite an interesting read. I have noted some analogs of our current wildlife in what they call ‘fossils’, translating to petrified bones of long extinct creatures. It even informs the reader about how these creatures met their end at the hand of a giant meteor. Quite fascinating, really.”

Andrias smiled as the trio of newts left the throne room arguing over who would get to read it first. Only one last loose thread to cut before he was ready to head out.

______________

Hello Marcy,

I hope this letter finds you well. Things are going well here in Newtopia. All the structures you have helped engineer are staying stable and continue being implemented at a rapid pace. I cannot thank you enough for the assistance you have already provided.

I would request that you, Anne, and the Plantar family stay in Wartwood for the present time. We want to ensure that the gem stays fully charged, so keeping it in one location should reduce the risk of environmental factors affecting it as it stabilizes. Feel free to use this time to chart out the location of the second temple, using triangulation. 

I have some matters to settle outside of the city, so I may be out of reach for the next week or two. I just have a quick exploratory trip into the mountains I am excited about, before we go to visit the Toad Lords.

Peace Out!

Andrias :P

Smiling to himself as he set down his quill, Andrias lightly blew on the ink to help it dry faster. Those emoticon thingies that Marcy had explained to him were quite fun to use. He was sure it would be dry enough to send by messenger wasp by the time he had to leave. It would be awkward to have to ask somebody to send it out for him if it wasn’t. 

______________

Andrias was quite thankful that General Yunan held her questions until he had some time to rest in the carriage. A night’s sleep really did him some good. True to her style though, when Yunan did start asking questions it was hard and fast. 

“Your Majesty, what exactly is the purpose of all this,” the young General asked, gesturing to the passing terrain outside of the carriage as they made good time towards the mountains. “I just don’t see how a quick tour of the mountain range is going to help us with the rising rebellion. We bypassed the Ancestral Toad Tower on the way over here, so if you wanted to cut the head off the snake we easily could have…and to be honest you have been in a bit of a mood for the last couple days.”

Andrias glanced down at his General, face soft as he saw the faces of past advisors and friends overlap Yunan’s own for a brief instance. Taking a deep breath and raising a hand to rub at his eyes, Andrias started, “I found some records of a secluded race of people that make their homes in the mountains. They were said to be a group of scholars and seers, always ready to provide their unique brand of insight to those willing to seek them out. It is my hope that we can come across them for some insight into both the ongoing Toad situation, as well as the events surrounding Master Marcy. The fact that the Rangers are coming with us get to document an unknown people’s culture is going to be a side benefit to this venture.”

Sighing, Andrias leaned deeply into his seat with an echoing groan, the sound more solid sounding then he would like it to be. Still, General Yunan should just blame the armour for it, rather than figure out the truth of the cause. “Let me be blunt with you for a moment, General Yunan. The truth of the matter,” Andrias intoned, “is that I am not worried about the situation with the Toad Lords. I already have a plan on how to nip that issue in the bud. What I am concerned about is how to treat the whole “ward” thing that I have going with Master Marcy. I have not been responsible for a singular life in a very long time, and I fear I have gotten too used to seeing lives as statistics rather than people.”

Yunan jumped forward, cutting off her king with protests, “No! You have done a great job with her so far,” the young general smiled, recalling a pleasant memory, “She has nothing but kind things to say of you. I remember sailing with her and the crew as we went out to shackle Captain Ragnar the Wretched.” Here, General Yunan paused to rub the medal that the arrest had earned her, “She would just go on for hours about all the good that you have been doing for her. She spends so much time talking about things here that it is so easy to forget that she comes from someplace else entirely until some human thing pops up to remind you of that.”

Gazing up at her king, General Yunan, smiled fiercely, “You have been doing a good job of caring for Marcy so far. However, if you are worried about doing a good job you could always~ let me take her under my wing for a while. She’s already doing great as a Ranger, so just imagine just how much better she would be as my apprentice.” The young newt finished with a cold, reptilian smile and a clenched fist.

Andrias froze for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. “You mistake my worries for insecurity General! My worries more stem from the fact that Marcy has let slip some information about her homeworld during our Flipwart matches. Her people seem to have a different standard in regards to maturation and the age that adulthood arises. By her people’s standards she is still dependent on her parents for most everything, but she feels that they do not support her or her interests. I am just trying to figure out how best to approach that situation when it inevitably happens.”

Sighing, Andrias continued, “There is more going on besides, but I cannot fully explain the situation without betraying her trust in me if she is not present.” Giving Yunan his best apologetic smile, Andrias asked, “The next time that you meet with the young Master Marcy, could you talk with her? I have the feeling that she needs to talk to her friends about something and is dancing around the issue, distracting herself with our world.” Andrias paused to rub one of his elbows and turned his gaze down to the ground, “There are some things that you regret if you never bring them to the fore. I do not want Marcy to have to endure that.”

Shaking off the sudden melancholic mood, Andrias popped in his seat a bit. “Anyways, want to hear about my plans for confronting the Toad Lords? Right now, I am thinking…shock and awe.”

Chapter Text

Queen’s Knight Defense

“Letting go doesn’t mean that you don’t care about someone anymore. It’s just realizing that the only person you really have control over is yourself.” ~ Deborah Reber

“I’m done with those; regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.” ~ Ned Vizzini

“You will find that it is necessary to let things go; simply for the reason that they are heavy. So let them go, let go of them. I tie no weights to my ankles.” ~ C. JoyBell C.

___

It was under the light of the red moon that the carriage arrived at Andrias’ intended destination, a cavern that the archives had noted to be large enough for the carriage to enter into the depths of the mountain. Or, at least, that had been the hope that Andrias carried on the way. The last time that the cavern had been explored was two hundred years back. 

At the time, Andrias had to corral the Rangers away from the cavern because they had found some form of ‘unknown’ writings. Andrias recognized them as Olm’s Script right away, and had to discourage further explorations in the area to prevent them from disturbing the olms. The Core had been quite insistent on that, for reasons unknown at the time…he wished that it had stayed that way. 

Andrias was wishing that he had disregarded those concerns, at least a little bit. If he had let the Rangers visit these areas more often than at least he would have had a better idea as to which areas were still serviceable now. He was suffering for it now. The cavern that should be here was instead covered up by a landslide’s worth of boulders. Sighing, Andrias got up as the small retinue of Rangers that had come along argued with one another. Rolling his shoulders, he strode towards the largest of the boulders and pushed it away from the debris pile enough for him to sit on.

“Alright, this is what we are going to do,” Andrias started, “The best climber amongst you is going to scout our surroundings, check for predators nearby. Afterwards, they’ll check the mountain over the entrance to see if there are any remaining boulders or other debris that could come loose. The rest of us are going to be doing some heavy lifting, clearing the cavern entrance out enough for the carriage to get through. This cavern holds our best bet of getting through to the people that I want to meet with, so we’ll need to do some clearing before we can continue.” 

“Dibs!” General Yunan shouted, “I’ll start the scouting and the rest of you can handle the heavy lifting. I’ll be back before you can say ‘General Yunan! Scourge of the Sand Wars, Defeater of Ragnar the Wretched, aaand the Youngest Newt to ever achieve the rank of General in the Newtopian Army!’” Yunan then cartwheeled into a backflip, landing on the wall with an outstretched hand and both feet, before she started to climb around the cavern entrance and up the mountain. 

“Ah man,” one of the Rangers, one of the rare Toad Rangers, mutters under his breath, “Of course the General snipes the fun job and we are left with the grunt work.” Even as he grumbled, the toad cracked his fingers and started doing stretches to warm up his muscles.

Another Ranger, this one a green newt, replied, “Do you ever feel like background characters in the middle of someone else’s story?” 

The Toad Ranger responded, “Naw, not really. Just two weeks ago, we dealt with that Sea Cobra under Marcy’s command, remember? Squashed it with a catapult and everything. Our lives are too exciting to be background characters.”

It took some time before any headway was made in clearing the cavern entrance of boulders and debris. General Yunan occasionally popped by, delivering a quick report about some critter or other scuttling about in the area before disappearing back into the wilderness. The Rangers were quite capable of handling themselves well in clearing out the boulders, though they left the largest ones for Andrias to handle.

By midday they had managed to make a small, frog-sized entrance into the cavern. A newt crawled in through the entrance and confirmed that Olm Script was present within the caverns. The break that followed the find was filled with the chattering of excited Rangers, discussing pet theories about what these new people would be like. It was funny to listen to some of the speculation that they had, especially since he already knew just how wrong they were.

Reclining on a convenient boulder, Andrias flipped through the book he had brought along from the library. Pausing on the page that discussed the mass exodus of the olms from Newtopia. He had wondered for a long time why Newtopia had some ancient statues that seemed Olm-themed, even from his own childhood. This book seemed to describe a Newtopia he had never known existed, one that all the races of Amphibia had inhabited as equals. Comparing that to the one that he ruled today, it felt like he lived within a shadow of what once was. Even the Newtopia of his youth, the one his father ruled, felt tainted somehow now that he knew that it had once been more diverse. 

Once work got started after the long break, everyone was reinvigorated. The Rangers were excited about encountering a new race of people. Andrias found that it bothered him slightly that he was continuing to mislead those around him, but with how much he had compromised on over the centuries it was just a familiar moral itch that he could easily ignore. Made all the easier to do when he could feel himself get closer to the answers that he wanted.

After the entrance was cleared enough for the carriages to go through, which took the rest of the day, everyone slept the sleep of the dead. The hard work of the long day had them all exhausted. It was only a matter of straws to decide who amongst them would be on lookout duty that night. Funnily enough, General Yunan was amongst those that lost, having to do the third night shift. 

______________

Come morning, the small caravan of explorers delved into the depths of the canyon. They had stopped for a moment to examine the writing on the cavern wall, highlighted by some kind of fluorescent purple cave slime. The few scholarly Rangers amongst the group spent the time that the caravan readied for their underground journey making sketches of the script and the engravings encircling it  to ensure they had some record of it for later examination. 

Andrias himself paused to observe the carvings and noted how it bore some resemblance to a few of the older statues that could be found around Newtopia itself. It wasn’t an exact match of course, the ones in Newtopia looked more like axolotl fishfolk (what with the scaled lower halves and fish fins) than the olm carvings here. On the other hand, it wouldn’t be the first time that statues within the city had been changed by the Core’s direction. Andrias, himself, had been instructed a time or two to request changes be made to a one statue or other in the city.

A tracker amongst the group had taken the preparation time to scout ahead of the group, only just returning as the packing finished. “My Lord,” a dull brown newt started, “I have found something that resembles a beaten path not too far ahead. If we follow it, we may end up finding the village of people that you seek.”

Andrias boomed out a “Well Done,” to the lass, before urging the caravan onwards. The path the tracking ranger directed the group towards sloped downwards, matching what little that Andrias had found on the location of the olm homelands. The directions that he had found in what little time he had searched for them had been vague, implying that the olm homelands were just deep within the earth, beneath the mountains. 

As hours passed, the endless dark of the caves lightened with luminescent moss and molds bringing light to the tunnel. A time or two, a Ranger flinched as the sensation of being watched made skins crawl. At one point, Andrias even heard distant arguing that quickly faded into nonexistence as the tunnel walls shook before that too stopped.

A faint breeze tickled the robes of the Rangers, alerting the entire group that they had made it to the other end of the tunnel. There was a little speculation about whether or not they had found some pocket underneath the earth that was exposed to the open world above or if they had ‘merely’ found a gigantic cavern beneath the mountain passes. Andrias himself was curious, as he knew little of the city of the olms.

As the caravan entered into the cavern, many of the Rangers found their breath stolen by the magnitude of the cave that they were entering. All around them glowing blue gems sparkled under luminescent moss light as, in the distance, enormous chandeliers of glowing moss and fungi dangled from the cave ceiling bearing the engraved forms of a gilled, fanged newt of some kind. Large buildings vaguely reminiscent of the Newtopian style bloomed from the cave floor, as canals connected to one another throughout the city. Great bells could be seen dotting the landscape, dull green from age. The fluorescent purple glow of the slime could be seen all across the city, highlighting every building and carving lines into the giant columns that supported the ceiling above them. The comforting roar of waterfalls in the distance drew the gazes of a few Rangers, who could only just see them because of the purple glow of the fungi growing from behind them. 

As the caravan continued down the slope to the city itself, they found that the ground level pathway was built up between two canals that were themselves occasionally parted by columns. Closer to the city, a large newt-like being slithered forth from a nearby building, their head covered in an iron helmet with a sapphire gem in the forehead area. The helmet itself was quite sturdy, with small wings to cover the base of their luminous, baby blue gills. The olm also wore two protective collars, one around their neck and another at the end of their tail, each of which was studded with a variety of small sapphires. The only difference between the two collars was that the one on the tail had a protective ring of blue gems ringing the entirety of the center of the collar while the one on the neck had the ring placed beneath a bugle of ringing steel. 

The olm, an interesting celeste blue, arched themselves over the first carriage of the caravan and hissed, “Halt, outsiders. State your purpose for coming here, and inform us of how you found us.” The clang of metal on stone brought attention to the spear that the olm bore in their hands.

Before General Yunan could leap out of the carriage to introduce herself, Andrias got up and approached the olm. The sound of his footsteps on the cave floor instantly had the olm guard turning their head in his direction. Kneeling before the olm, Andrias introduced himself, “Mighty Olm, I am Andrias and I have come with my companions to meet with your scholars. We are explorers and scholars. When we came across some unknown writing on a cavern wall, well,” here Andrias chuckled, “we just had to explore further. We found your great city after finding a path here not too far from the writing that led us straight here.”

The olm leaned forward, snout just a few feet from Andrias, before inhaling deeply. The olm’s snout quickly wrinkled, as if it had smelled something sharp or pungent, before muttering to itself. Finally it turned to Andrias and his entourage and declared, “Parisia will have to decide if you can continue on.” Entwining themselves around a nearby pillar, the olm smacked the bell atop it with their spear and waited. It was not long before three other olms emerged from the canals on either side of the road. The first olm took the lead and guided the group into the city proper, as the three other olm guards took position around the group.

A few of the Rangers spent the travel time asking questions of the guards about life in the city, as others jotted down notes about the architecture and city layout. One of Toads amongst the Rangers was enraptured by the mural carvings that decorated the pathways alongside the canals, and was doing quick sketches to pass the time. The guards, for the most part, were pretty affable and open to answering questions about whatever was asked. As they passed through the city proper, it was interesting to note that they did have crops growing within the canals themselves.

“So,” one of the Ranger newts asked, as the carriages approached a large gate. The arch of the gateway was stylized to resemble the branching gills of the olm people, with a great blue gem structure balanced between the two. Precious blue stones hung from the stylized gills. The supports of the arch were decorated by downward facing olms carved such that their snouts were just a few feet from the ground. “Why is it that we don’t see any of your kind above ground?”

“Because,” the periwinkle coloured olm guard that was at the rear of the group answered, “we would burn alive if we dared to go above ground during the day. And going out during the night is just begging for a Bat or an Eagle Owl attack. Besides, we do not associate with your kind if we can help it. It has been this way for as long as I can remember.” 

“Indeed, it has been that way for as long as most of us can remember. Insularity is how we olms survive. Fewer friends sure, but also fewer foes,” interrupted a light orange olm. This olm was slightly larger than the guards and was more decorated as well. Her glowing yellow gills were weighed down by bejeweled rings. Upon her head sat a head covering that matched the necklace that bore red and brown stones. Bracelets jangled from her wrists as she angled herself ahead of the group and cast a judgemental look at the caravan. Rings of armour that matched her jewelry guarded vital places down her serpentine body. “I am Parisia. What do you want, outsiders?”

“Greetings Parisia,” Andrias started, with a bow, “I am Andrias and I have come with my companions seeking knowledge and wisdom. Despite the long years of separation between our people, there are still records of the great truths that your kind have deemed to bestow onto others. My companions have come only to learn of you and your culture. I have come seeking advice and wisdom.”

Parisia frowned slightly in the direction of the caravan. “It is the olm way to help guide others in search of wisdom and knowledge, older even than our isolation from the other races. Your companions may stay here, as we reach out to a few of our scholars to give them primers on our culture. You, however,” Parisia pointed at Andrias, “shall come with me.” Parisia motioned for the Andrias to follow her, even as Yunan protested letting Andrias go off alone. 

Andrias waved off the General’s concerns with a joking admonishment and followed after the orange olm. Distantly, he could hear Yunan introducing herself to the olm guards in her usual style. “Your majesty , I take it you are here for more than just a cultural visit.” Parisia snarled, snapping her jaws inches from Andrias’ face, regaining his full attention. 

Face blank, Andrias replied, “Yes, actually. I have come to you hoping to speak with Mother Olm. I have recently come to the conclusion that my ancestors were wrong in their thinking.” Andrias paused and idly felt the weight of the book in his pocket, “And I could think of no-one more capable of providing insight on what I should do with that decision than Mother Olm.”

Lips peeling back to show her fangs, Parisia hissed, “Just why should I trust anything that you have to say, Leviathan ! I have been deceived by your line before, and I will die before I am deceived by your kind again.”

Smirking for a moment Andrias answered, “There used to be a time where I would needle you for your focus on what my family has done to you personally over what we have done to your people.” Andrias pulled out the history book and ran a finger over the cover. “I have been learning that Leviathans have had more to do with olms than I ever knew, lately.” Kneeling before the enraged olm, Andrias reached up to his crown and showed it to her. “If you were as close to my forefathers as I suspect then you know the importance of this crown. Here, take it. Do with it, as you will.”

Parisia took the crown into her hands and turned it over. “It’s been over a thousand years since I last saw this accursed thing.” Tracing the timeworn serrations on the edges Parisia murmured to herself, deep in thought. After a moment, the olm sighed and dragged claws over the centerpiece of the crown, where the eye of the Core would appear if it so chose to look through it. Eyeing Andrias carefully, she scratched the crown while watching him for any reaction. 

Seemingly satisfied with whatever she saw in him from that action, Parisia continued, “I’m guessing that you know exactly just how much control this provides your…former lord, Leviathan. I would be doing you a favour destroying it right now, but if I were to do that then it will know.” Parisia tossed the crown back to Andrias, letting him put it back on. Then, she leaned in, dragging gills over him and getting a better sense for his dimensions. A sniff could be heard as Parisia got a sense of his scent. “It is as I thought, you are Aldrich’s son. I could have sworn that it has been a thousand years since that man died,” she paused there, tracing the orange gem in the center of her necklace. “Tell me, how is it that a newt such as yourself has lived an olm’s age such as this?”

“Sacrifice,” Andrias intoned, “through much sacrifice.” He rubbed one of his joints, more keenly aware of their artificiality in that moment than before.

“The smell of ozone and metal coming off of you tells me that much,” Parisia rolled her blank eyes. Sighing, she asked, hesitantly, “Did your fool of a father actually do it then? Did he…” she paused, unable to finish her sentence. “What I mean to say is, did he follow in the way of your ancestors?” As she asked the question, she gestured towards the crown.

“Yes, my father joined The Core,” Andrias answered her unspoken question. Looking up at the olm, he asked, “Were you…a friend of his in the past?”

Parisia chuckled softly, “You could say that.” Pausing she smirked viciously, before continuing, “Or you could say we were something a bit more than friends. A lot more, actually.” As Parisia wiggled her eyebrows, Andrias shivered with disgust as he immediately made the connection that the olm was implying. 

Full on laughing, Parisia took a moment to regather herself, “I think a visit to Mother Olm would be arrangeable, under constant supervision of course. Am I right in assuming the king~,” Parisia drawled out that last word teasingly, “would like a company of guards to protect himself with?” 

Andrias groaned, dragging an open hand over his face, “Yes. My guards will never let me hear the end of it if I go any further than this from them.

As the two amphibians made their way back to the group, Andrias lightheartedly quizzed, “So, how serious was that relationship with my dad that you mentioned?” Parisia laughed and glided ahead. “Parisia? PARISIA?!”

Chapter Text

Queen’s Gambit

The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.” ~ Issac Asimov

“The more sand that has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.” ~ Jean Paul

General Yunan, a quartet of Rangers, and Andrias slowly made their way down the steep slope that apparently led to the Mother of Olms. The four Rangers, a small squad of a medic, a scholar-explorer, and two knights, were idly chatting amongst themselves behind General Yunan and himself. Parisia, alongside four olm guards weaved their way down the slope around them. 

Parisia, ahead of the group, angled her head to the side and stated, “Mother Olm is the oldest amongst all of us, even older than you Andrias. She has lived for millenia, so I am expecting you all to be on your best behaviour.”

“Your Majesty,” whispered General Yunan, “just what have you gotten us into?”

Andrias chuckled, before replying, “I have gotten us into the homeland of the longest living people in all of Amphibia. I should think there would be no one wiser in all the land than the one whom these people turn to in search of guidance.”

After a lengthy downward descent, the group arrived at another large cavern. This specific cavern was quite ornate, with murals covering the support pillars and glowing previous stones seeded across the chamber. A large precipice cut through the floor on the far end of the chamber, bookmarked by two large ascending staircases that eventually stopped after reaching a great height. Blazing bonfires outlined the edge of the cliff, ensuring none would fall off it into the void. 

Right in between the two staircases, in the middle of the room a large gong hung. Ornate bronze, centerpieced by what could be described as a flaring star or sun with an olm creating a perfect circle in the middle. Atop the arc holding the gong in place, a gray gem was held in place. A small staircase that Andrias could skip in a single step led up to the entire set up. Parisia prowled towards the gong purposefully, before turning towards his ensemble of newts. The guard olms split into two groups and set themselves up on either side of the chamber, facing the newts as well. 

Winding herself in a large coil around the gong, Parisia announced in a loud voice, “King Andrias, Overseer of Newtopia, has come to the olms in search of the wisdom that we olms hold. Seeking our brightest, we now call forth Mother!” Motioning to the olms nearby, two guards began to drum a deep, steady beat. Using the iron bangle around her tail, Parisia rang the gong.

Almost immediately, the ground began to shake. For the most part everyone stood firm, though there was one newt guard that stumbled and fell with a shout.

With a burst of displaced air, a great creature emerged from the crevice. Glowing azure gills and crest on translucent periwinkle skin framing a lavender belly. Milky white eyes stared forwards, seeming to see everyone before her and yet nothing at all. Andrias felt his breath catch; both at the size of the person before him, as well as the sight of a Leif’s leaf shining on her forehead. 

Kneeling before the Mother of Olms, and hearing his entourage of guards following suit, Andrias heard the elder boom, “Who is it that summons me?” Feeling her words reverberate in his chest, ratting the wires around inside, Andrias felt like he was interacting with the Core’s biological counterpart. What the olms had naturally, his ancestors had made for themselves through technology. It brought forth a similar feeling of smallness as being before the Core, and he felt himself flinch at the thought.

Steeling himself, Andrias spoke, “Greetings Mother Olm! I am Andrias, current leader of Newtopia. With me are General Yunan and a tiny entourage of guards…for my safety.” Andrias gestured at each of the aforementioned newts as he introduced them. “I would point out who was who, but I don’t think you would see the point.”

“Oh, newts. There haven’t been newts here in at least a thousand years,” murmured Mother Olm. She leaned forwards, using her gills to feel his person. He stood stock still, feeling the tendrils as danced across his face before they focused on his crown. “And as for you, you are a Leviathan aren’t you. You and your line haven’t come to us for advice in a very long time.” Her brows knitted in an intense look, Andrias could her focus narrow down onto him in a manner similar to discussions with the Core.

“Not since your discussions with King Aravind about the use of the stones,” answered Andrias, “or so I have been led to believe.” He could practically hear the confusion of the newts behind him.

“Oh no, that is much too far back,” replied Mother Olm, “I believe my last discussion with the Kings of Newtopia was just over a thousand years ago, with King Aldritch. A messenger was sent to us asking about a future war front and we informed them of a prophecy that was given unto us. At the behest of some unnatural thing, King Aldritch continued down his self-determined path.” Sighing, Mother Olm shook her head. “We tried to dissuade him, or rather I tried on behalf of the zoom people,  but his mind could not be changed.”  

In the background, General Yunan turned to one of the newt guards and whispered, “Unnatural thing?” The guard hummed a confused tone with a shrug, clearly saying, “I don’t know,” without having said a word.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Mother Olm changed topics, “Oh, but we are not here to discuss the actions of your predecessors…wait, quick question,” Mother Olm derailed her train of thought for a moment. “Do any of you hear something, like the fluttering of many tiny wings?”

As everyone in the room answered with a negative, Mother Olm shrugged. “Must have been my imagination. That sort of thing happens when you get old.” General Yunan muttered something to herself in the background, probably along the lines of never getting to be that old since she’d find her fate out on the battlefield.  

“Apologies about that. We aren’t here to discuss my woes, we are here to talk about you,” Mother Olm pointed down at Andrias, “Has one of the three stars turned you away from your prior path, away from your worst self?”

Marcy flashed in his mind’s eye, with a wide and innocent smile after having just been pulled from his coat pocket. At the same time, the phantom sensation of Leif’s letter tingled in his hand. “You could say that,” Andrias answered. “You could also say that I felt the need to redirect myself.” 

Mother Olm hummed in an understanding manner, “That’s good, very good.” The Olms took a moment to motion for Andrias to continue. Andrias, smirking to himself slightly, pulled out a large scroll. Faintly, he heard General Yunan utter an “Oh no,” to herself as he let the scroll unfurl itself as he held onto the top, where the start of the list was. The scroll unraveled, bouncing off his feet and rolling forwards before ultimately stopping at the foot of the gong’s platform.  

“Speaking of redirecting myself, I was hoping to speak with you about some of the actions and events that have occurred throughout my life. Having lived a thousand years, many times the normal lifespan of your average newt, I was hoping to hear your insight on how my actions have impacted others through the last millennium,” Andrias answered. 

“Oh Olm,” muttered Parisia, rubbing her forehead with curled fingers, “I never thought I would see the day that a newt would pull a millennium confessional.” Uncoiling from her position around the gong, Parisia fled for the exit before Andrias could really pick up steam. In the distance, he could just barely make out Parisia muttering to herself, “I am out, I REFUSE TO HANDLE ONE OF THESE AGAIN!"

Andrias let himself continue rambling about his decisions in the seventh century of his reign and how they affected the events of the time for a moment, as he took in the drooling forms of both the olm guard and his newt companions as they dozed off. 

Mother Olm held up a hand, smiling, asking for him to pause for a moment, “Sugar, you know if you wanted some one on one wisdom seeking you only needed to ask. There was no need for you to bore everyone to sleep like that.”

“But would it have been as much fun?” Andrias asked, before laughing. Mother Olm seemed to consider it for a moment before conceding. “Besides, I really did want someone else’s opinions on my previous actions. Seeing how far my kingdom has fallen from its previous heights has really hit hard.” Mother Olm nodded, before offering Andrias a new cup of tea.

“Yes, it can be hard to watch the world change around you,” Mother Olm sighed, “Whether it be for the better or the worse, both of them hit in different ways. Watching things get better can leave you nostalgic for the simpler times of the past, while when things get worse you will always have some longing for the ease of the better times. I know watching everything that happened around the conquests and the creation of that which does not die was particularly painful for me. I figure that the HorseFly Rebellion would have happened eventually, one way or another given that Newtopia had lost the gems. People were going to have to figure out how to survive sooner or later.”

Shaking her head, Mother Olm recentered herself, “What exactly did you want some one on one advice for anyway, Sugar? I don’t think that they’ll,” she gestured at the guards, both olm and newt alike, “stay asleep forever.”

“First, and foremost, I would ask if you have any advice for how to deal with the Core. I believe that the olms call it ‘The Unnatural Thing’ or something of the like,” Andrias paused and put some pressure on his temples to try and forestall a headache. “My current plan is to put it off-kilter and then to strike at its power source. Use the prophesied humans to direct their attention elsewhere, and use a strike team to remove its personal power supply.”

“That could certainly do it. I must admit though, honey, I am not exactly the best person to come to when seeking miltarial advice. I’d speak more with Parisia if that is something that you wish to go after. I have always handled more domestic matters, myself,” Mother Olm demurred with a wave of her hand.

“In that case,” Andrias took the hint to change the topic, “I would like to speak with you about a ward that I have recently taken into my household, Marcy Wu.”

Mother Olm hm’d for a moment, taking in the name, “Now that is an exotic name. Wu,” the elder murmured the name to herself for a moment, getting a feel for it, “I have not heard the like of a name such as that before, and at my age that is saying something. Would it be alright if I asked what species this Marcy Wu is?”

“Marcy is human,” Andrias explained, “and she is one of the three who you prophesied to come. I am ashamed to admit that I began to manipulate her for my own purposes, or rather, the purposes of the Core, despite my own attachment to her. She reminds me of myself and of the friends I had in my youth, before I was given the responsibilities of the crown.” 

“Marcy first came across mentions of the Music Box and what it could do in a book at their local library. She thought it a fanciful story and made a realistic copy of the cover to remember it for later review,” Andrias intentionally skipped over the explanations of phones and photographs because he did not want to be here for an eternity explaining either of those things, “When she came across box in truth, it was after an argument with her parents about leaving behind her friends. Desperate, and not in a clear state of mind, she convinced her friends to get the box in the hopes that it would actually work. Then, together, they opened it, which led them to coming here, to Amphibia.” 

“Well,” Mother Olm paused for a moment to absorb the information, “that is quite the tale. I have not had to handle this kind of problem in quite a long time.” Closing her eyes and thinking, the elderly olm rubbed her trying to recall something. “Nope, can’t remember how I handled the last problem that was like this.” The olm popped her lips, before continuing, “The memory is just gone. An unfortunately common problem when you get to be this age.” She chuckled for a moment in self-deprecation.

“I would advise you to get the three friends together and have them talk out their issues with one another,” Mother Olm continued, “I am sure that Marcy’s friends will have some things they want to talk about with one another, and it is better that they get everything out in the open now. Better to get things over with rather than to let it fester and become a larger problem than it already might be.” Mother Olm paused and examined the area around Andrias, “I am sure you have seen the like over your own thousand years of experience.

Looking down at the floor, Andiras sighed, “You could say that, I suppose.” In his mind’s eye, Andiras could see Barrel, Leif, and himself in a group hug. The moment lasted before Leif faded away, music box in hand, and Barrel wandered off with tears in his eyes. “I suppose you could say that,” Andrias repeated, more to himself than anyone else.

“Here Sugar,” Mother Olm offered a giant cloth, “If you are going to cry, use this. It is large, I know, but that just means that it absorbs more.”

Laughing suddenly, Andrias had a flashback to when he had similarly offered aid via handkerchief to the weepish Plantars when they had thought they were leaving Anne behind. “Any other sage words of advice, Mother Olm?”

“If you find that they are having trouble reconciling their troubles with one another, my door is always open. Helping with issues such as these are what I excel at, and doing so for the prophesied ones would be a pleasure. Now,” Mother OIm diverted the conversation to more pleasant topics, “while we wait for the others to wake back up, would you like some Jasmine Tea? I think you can appreciate the fact that it took me two hundred years to perfect the recipe.” Mother Olm pulled out a giant pot of simmering tea, and a pair of equally large tea cups. 

Andrias took a moment to look around, as both newt and olm snoozed away around them. Now that neither of them were speaking, he could make out some snores coming from one of the slumbering Rangers and two of the olms. Shrugging, Andrias answered, “Sure, why not?”

Chapter Text

Proteus System

Know thyself, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories. ~ Sun Tsu

The cost of freedom is always high, but Americans have always paid it. One path that we shall never choose, and that is the path of surrender, or submission. ~ John F. Kennedy

Andrias did not bother waiting for his retinue of guards to awake after he finished his tea with Mother Olm and bade her a proper good-bye. It would be easier to just go out and search for Parisia and talk war plans with her, than it would be to try and corral them into a position where he could have them nearby for the talks but unable to hear their discussions…the fact that it would also be more amusing to watch them run around like a headless cockroach trying to find him definitely did not play any part of this decision. Definitely not.

The walk back up the path was strenuous, causing the joints of his prosthetics to creak slightly under the pressure that he was putting on them. The act that the terrain itself was quite slippery did not help matters. At certain points of the climb, he had needed to bend over to catch himself before he slipped back down. It was times like this that he had insisted that the Core include the wall climbing ability to the prosthetics, having that to fall back on was of great help during times such as this. 

Parisia, thankfully, had not gone far from the entrance to Mother Olm’s quarters; she had coiled up in front of the entrance door with a spear in hand. She eyed him carefully as he clapped the dirt off his hands in a nonchalant manner. Striding over to stand alongside her, his hands clasped together behind his back, as she returned her gaze back over Proteus, Andrias kicked off discussions.

“I am hoping to depose the Core from their place. It is my opinion that Amphibia has no place for their like anymore, if it ever had a place for them to begin with,” sighing, Andrias turned his head to look at Parisia. The olm had shifted to face him more directly, so he returned the courtesy. “I was told by Mother Olm that if I wished to discuss war, that I should do so with you. She said that she has always handled more domestic matters.”

Parisia laughed, body shaking with every heaving breath. Andrias felt confused at first, before the heavy weight of disappointment fell over him. Wiping tears from her eyes, Parisia read his expression, “No, no, no, it is not that I am laughing about the idea of assisting you in your rebellion against your ‘Core’.” Parisia explained, the last word punctuated by the olm placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it in a manner akin to what an amphibian would use for quotation marks, “the idea of Mother Olm being ignorant to the ways of war was laughable though. The Olm Way states that every leader must have experienced both the battlefield and overseen the populace. Mother Olm has been on countless battlefields, and she currently has a small task force under her control.”

Parisia eyed Andrias for a moment before continuing, “Mostly, she has had them listening in on things happening with Newtopia. We cannot get too close without the Unnatural Thing, I believe you called it the Core, detecting our movements and intercepting. It has some subterranean creatures under it’s thrall, using some fungal fluid and metal collars. We aren’t sure just how it is keeping them under it’s control from such a large distance, but no olm has managed to get within five miles since it lost control of the Music Box. Before then, we had to stay even further away.”

“Anyways,” Parisia continued, “you mentioned you wanted to discuss an alliance to take that abomination down. What exactly would your plan be?”

Andrias explained his thoughts quickly, going over what his hopes for the inclusion of the olms would result in and how he was planning to incorporate the Toads and the Newtopian Rangers into things. His hopes for a subterranean insertion team into the Core’s chambers to cut off the power supply and then dealing the final blow to the construct itself. The orange olm hmm’d and aww’d at the right moments, and as Andrias finished going over his thoughts, Parisia nodded solemnly.

“I have already mentioned that the Newtopian Castle has subterranean beasts guarding it, twenty-four hours a day and seven days a week. It would take some time for us to get through that and we would take some losses. Unfortunately, the castle itself seems to be warded specifically to keep my kind out. The closer to the castle you get underground, the more poisons and toxins that an Amphibian is likely to run into. Any pockets underground near the castle are inhabited by gaseous creatures whose touch dissolves the flesh. The area is not safe to approach from underground. Your best bet to engage the Unnatural Thing in person would be to get to it through the halls and secret passageways.” Parisia turned her gaze back over Proteus, “I cannot approve of an underground offensive for the castle’s foundations on the part of the olms, the area is too well-defended for us to try. Unfortunately, I must insist that the olms join the battlefront in the field rather than as an insertion team. If we could have dug our way into the castle and put an end to the Unnatural Thing ourselves, we would have.”

Andrias sighed, running a hand over his eyes, “Of course. I apologize for my lapse. Would you and a few of your warriors like to join me at my next recruitment drive then? I am set to discuss the war efforts with the Toads in a few days time. I do believe that they will have a harder time accepting my story, and having a few olms come by to back it up would help on the credibility side of things.” Andrias smiled his widest grin.

Parisia took one look at him and shook her head, holding back a laugh, “You remind me so much of Aldritch sometimes. The way he would try to use his grin and charm perfectly matched what you did just now, if I am reading that awkward silence just now right.” Parisia smacked him on the back, remembering better times fondly, “Forgetting that we olms are not a sighted species is something he often did. The last time I remember something like that must have been the time his father caught us in the East Tower doing…” Parisia paused, lost in memories. Andrias lost his grin, mind immediately leaping to the worst case scenario (in his opinion at least). Plugging his fingers into his ears, he began to sing a small shanty to himself to block out her words. This, thankfully, did not last long. Shaking off the memory induced haze after a moment, Parisia carried on, “Exactly what is going on with the toads? The area that they have made their home is not a place we olms often visit.”

“My informants are of the opinion that the Toad Lords are setting up to rebel against me,” Andrias answered, “I figure that if I can provide them a greater prize than the Peacekeeper of a Thousand Years, then I can hand hit two flies with one tongue.”

Parisia hummed for a moment in understanding, “I can understand that. Give me some time and I will provide you with a tool that you can use in order to be able to call for my troop and I. We will follow you and your Rangers out to the Ancestral Toad Tower from below the ground. We already have a few tunnels that head out that way, however rarely used they may be.”

Parisia paused for a moment as a thought came to her, “On the way through Toad Country, be careful of the Narwhal Worms, okay? They are incredibly testy animals once they are awoken and near nothing can stop one in a rampage. There should be a bull in the area of the Ancestral Toad Tower that has lived an olm’s age. It would be a shame to lose a nephew so soon after getting one.”

Nodding his head, Andrias bowed slightly, “Thank you for the warning Parisia. I believe this talk has been quite helpful. I look forward to future war talks with you in the future.”

Parisia clucked her tongue in disapproval. “What did I tell you to call me?” One of her eyebrows arched in a questioning manner, a look of expectation on her face.

Andrias sighed, “Thank you Aunt Parisia.” 

Parisia smiled evilly, mouth wide and showing all her fangs. “Much better. Now,” Parisia continued, “In terms of repayment for this cooperation, I will require something from you and yours. Mother Olm has been having some…memory issues as of late. Unfortunately, her doctor for such issues, Doctor Yohan, disappeared about eighty years ago and we don’t have any doctors small enough to get into her head. You probably have some field medic or something in your Ranger squad, so if you could get them to crawl into her braincase and look around, that should be enough payment.” 

Andrias felt a bit queasy at the thought of commanding someone to go poking around the insides of someone else, but banished the discomfort to the void. The feeling of sickness crawling up his throat was just his imagination, definitely not real in any way. “Alright, I’ll get the best field medic on hand and a small group of Rangers to ensure their safe arrival and departure.”

Chapter Text

Temple Defense

Take care of your body, its the only place that you live. ~ Jim Rohm

Your body is not a temple, it is an amusement park. Enjoy the ride. ~ Anthony Bourdain

General Yunan stood stoically before her liege, King Andrias, and head of the Olm Guard, Parisia, with her hands templed before her with a neutral expression on her face. Behind her, a field-medic newt and some non-descript third newt, were trying and failing to hide the horrified expressions their faces were making. 

“So, you're telling me we have to go INSIDE a major religious figure of another race. Then, we have to apply medical treatment, that was gotten from a maybe quack, for an issue that has been going on for almost an entire century, all while going through various obstacles of the unknown variety that tend to come with invading an organism of a mega-fauna status. So, all in all, extremely dangerous. And then, after all that, we have to come out the way we came. All of this, without doing any damage whatsoever…Is there anything I am missing?”

Parisia paused for a moment, tilting her head and running a hand along the underside of her snout. She hm’d for a moment, before answering, “Pretty much, yes. Oh, there may be parasites of course. It’s inevitable once you start reaching a certain size, If you could exterminate those and bring them out, we would appreciate that as well. We can provide a bonus of some artifacts or something if you do that.”

General Yunan nodded, “Of course, of course.” Turning to King Andrias, Yunan asked, “And just how vital is this mission to your plan for working out a peace with the Toad Lords?”

“Oh, not quite that important. While we absolutely could handle things without having our olm associates showing up, I was quite hoping to introduce the olms to the Toad Lords in order to shake up whatever the fugitive Grime and his human associate have planned,” King Andrias explained, “It’s more so that we can demonstrate generosity to our hosts more than anything.”

Taking a deep breath before releasing it, Yunan steeled herself. “Alright, let’s do this.” Shaking her hands and jogging in place, Yunan continued, “I always did want to see the inside of somebody without having to cut them in half beforehand anyways.” 

The medic, now resigned to their fate, begrudgingly asked, “Can I see the salve that we are supposed to apply now?” After a moment, he perked up, “Actually, I would really appreciate seeing the container that the salve comes in as well. I picked up some tins of various salves to analyze with the medical faction of the Rangers when we get back to Newtopia. Another sample in a much more manageable size would be appreciated.”

“Oh, sure honey,” Mother Olm answered from her ledge by the drop-off in the cavern. Bending over and disappearing behind the edge of the drop-off for a moment, Mother Olm quickly returned with an olm-sized tin of medicinal salve, covered in a mild-mannered wrap that proclaimed it as  ‘Doctor Yohan’s Brain Cream’ alongside what appeared to be a sighted violet olm, judging by the eyeglasses. 

The medic looked over the tin for a moment, before sighing, “I already got a tin of this back in the market.” Snapping his fingers, he continued, “I had hoped it would be something I didn’t already have…wait. Wait! Why are we applying this right to your brain, the instructions say to apply it to your forehead?”

“Oh,” Mother Olm exclaimed, “that is because of the physiological differences between a newt and a…” she paused for a moment and hm’d, “for an olm of my age and grandeur. Applying the recommended dose to a newt’s forehead would be enough for the required amount to permeate through our absorbent skin and get to the brain. For me, well, all the blood in my skin and my thick skull would distribute the dosage elsewhere before it made it through to my brain.”

Narrowing his eyes at some small writing on the back of the tin, the Medic continued, “Looks like we’ll have to use my tin anyways. This one expired some seventy years ago. Good fortune I have my own tin, I guess.” 

He paused in thought, the bright side slowly dawning on him, “It would be interesting to see the interior of another species while they were still breathing. That could provide some insights and help me prove some theories to the scholars.” At which point the medic started rambling and muttering under their breath about the useless scholars who couldn’t see the use of practical experience. The nondescript newt looked like they were only just withholding themselves from strangling him.

“Then let’s get to it!” General Yunan shouted as she charged for the stairs. 

The medic followed along after the General, a little skip in their step. The last newt sent a pleading look at their King, who merely raised an eyebrow and waved a hand towards the stairs in a gesture that clearly said, ‘Well, get on with it’. Sighing in defeat, the last newt bowed their head and slowly marched towards the stairs, all the while acting as if the end of those stairs led to a gallows.

_____

“So… does anybody think that King Andrias is acting unusual lately?” asked the nondescript newt as General Yunan led the trio through the eardrum and deeper into the ear canal. 

General Yunan hm’d for a moment in thought before answering, “Kinda, but that has been true ever since Marcy showed up. Ever since we found the human in Newtopia he has been going off like a flea on caffeine. I kinda like the balance that he has found in the last couple days though. I think he has more energy now than he ever had before, I mean, I cannot remember the last time that the King himself led a trip outside of the city himself.”

“True enough,” the nondescript newt replied, “I remember that a few of the lower rung thought that Ranger Marcy had slipped him some shrooms or something to cause such a change in his behaviour…up until she started her projects anyways. That big bridge wiped away any of the bad perceptions that they had of her, all without her having to ever find out about it,” the newt shook his head, “the girl would have been devastated by some of the rumours flying around. Glad that we squashed them before she could hear the worst of them.”  

The trio walked in silence for a time before the medic started rambling to himself as they scribbled into a long scroll that they had on hand, putting notes into the scroll so fast that it seemed as if smoke was rising from it. General Yunan and the nondescript newt listened to them for a moment but lost track of their understanding when the medic started muttering to themselves about the tympanic membrane and auditory ossicles.

Walking around a great mound of earwax, Yunan pointed at the nondescript newt and asked, “I feel like I have worked with you before, what’s your name again?”

Sighing, the newt in question replied, “I am Horas, I have worked with you as one of the rowers on the ship when you and Ranger Marcy took on Ragnar the Wretched. I was brought along mostly to act as a general labourer.” He demonstrated his job status by lifting the giant tin that the Medic had brought along with them off his back for a moment before returning to his task of carrying it.  

“Alright, gotcha. Your Horas the Lifter,” General Yunan continued, “the Medic is…I want to say Odious, but I am not a hundred percent sure of that.”

“Oh, no one knows Medic’s name. He only responds to the name, ‘’Medic,’ and honestly,” Horas explained, “I do not think anyone even knows where exactly he came from.”

They both turned and watched the Medic fill a beaker with earwax, all the while giggling to himself. They shuddered in unison before continuing onwards. The shimmer of blue electricity ahead told them they were getting close. 

___

“You know,” General Yunan said, “this whole experience has been pretty enlightening. Never really thought about how nerves worked before. It’s pretty cool that we all have little lightning storms going on inside of us constantly.” 

Horas, charred black, coughed out a cloud of smoke, “Glad that you enjoyed my suffering.” They toppled over into a heap, creating a small explosion of soot as it flew off his body. Lifting up the tin of medical salve, Horas continued, “The salve is still okay!”

“My goodness!” the Medic mumbled to themselves, “Just look at the thickness of the myelin sheaths on these nerves! And the connection to these massive dendrites. Are the cells’ nuclei also sized up in scale, or do these shrink down to a more standard size out of sight?”

“You seem a bit shocked there Horas,” Yunan stated, looking down at their fellow newt, “Watts going on?” Yunan waited a moment, before hearing a groan of protest from the newt and laughing to herself.

“Why the bad puns?” Horas complained, as they pulled themselves back up and wiped the soot of their clothes.

“Dunno,” replied Yunan, “just felt right for some reason.” She paused for a moment, having noticed a hole in their path. “Imma scout that out.”

Bending over to poke her head down through the hole, General Yunan was the first newt to see Mother Olm’s brain. Turning back to her companions, she called out, “Found the target. It’s going to be a bit of a fall. Anyone see anything we can anchor a rope to in order to get back out this way? Preferably not a nerve.”

After a few minutes of searching, General Yunan and Horas couldn’t find anything to attach a rope to that wouldn’t shock them in trying to use it to escape. “I can stay up here and hold this end of the rope,” Horas offered, “I am here just for the general labour anyways. What else would you call being the anchor of a rope than general labour anyways, eh?”

The matter settled, Yunan and the Medic used the rope to get down to the brain. The moment they got down there, General Yunan pointed out the body of the former Doctor Yohan. Distantly, she was aware of Medic getting down to the business of applying the salve as she examined the body head to tail. 

“Well, this is ominous,” stated Yunan, as she eyes the punctures in the body. “The holes poked all throughout him are probably what killed him, so we definitely have some form of aggressive parasite around here. Looks like I am adding ExTerminator to the list of titles I have.” Hearing something minutely, she flicked her gauntlet blades out and prepared to fight. 

Closing her eyes, Yunan listened for a sign of the opponent. The constant beating of a giant heart, along with the rushing fluid sound of blood through veins and arteries. The distant murmuring of Medic as they rambled on about gray matter and frontal lobes. The odd sound of the salve settling into the folds of Mother Olm’s brain as Medic. The soft sighs of wildlife roosting above. Opening her eyes upwards, General Yunan was able to see the great swarm of Batsquitoes that were nesting on the roof of Mother’s Olm’s skull.

“Well, that can’t be good.” General Yunan calmly stated, as one of the Batsquitoes shifted in their sleep. 

“Oh, for sure,” agreed the Medic, “I imagine these are the source of the patient’s piercing migraines. Incredibly unsanitary as well, I don’t even want to think about how much waste they must have created in here. They'll need to send in a sanitation team after we have finished clearing them out.”

Yunan threw a disgusted look at the Medic before hopping off the brain and clinging to the wall of the cranium. Shuddering as she felt the pulsing of veins under her grasp, she clambered up to the ceiling before engaging the creatures in an ambush. Meanwhile, down below the Medic, drew a dagger and prepared to defend herself and her patient. 

The Batsquitoes, roused from their slumber, scattered from Yunan’s immediate vicinity as she slaughtered the closest handful with a quick flick of her gauntlet claws. The colony splintered into three groups, the largest portion making a beeline for one of Mother Olm’s ear canals in order to escape the chaos that had beset their dwelling place. The other two groups were split between attacking Yunan and the Medic. Yunan was having a ball, enjoying the unique challenge of arboreal combat in a situation that prevented her from using her gauntlet claws to fling herself from one handhold to another. The Medic, meanwhile, was employing a mixture of thrown potions and dagger strikes to repel the swarm attacking her. 

“Oh, this is GREAT! Haven’t had a challenge like this since the human that was with the Traitor Grime!” Yunan shouted down to the Medic, having just bisected a trio of Batsquitoes as she skidded down the cranium wall, to better position herself on the wall of the room instead of the ceiling.

“Oh come off it, you adrenaline junkie,” the Medic yelled back, as she stabbed a Batsquito in the braincase, “This is getting to be too much for us to handle.”

“Of course it isn’t!” Yunan insisted, as she swiftly parted some probosci from their owners as she weaved through diving bodies, leaving the weaponless beasts to smack into the flesh wall and then flee. “You just have to know how to convince the critters that leaving is in their best interests.” Another quartet of fleshy smacks spoke of more Batsquitoes finding themselves without probosci and being convinced flight was the better instinct to follow. 

“Well congrats,” the Medic mumbled, “not all of us are the physical embodiment of a lethality.” He yelped as a Batsquito nicked his side, before he parted it’s head from it’s body. Turning back to Yunan, he sighed as Yunan danced through the storm of monsters with the lethal grace of a Love Dove on the hunt. “Honestly, it’s just disgusting how easy this comes to you.”

“Well, that is what practice is for,” Yunan replied with ease, “while you were learning the medical arts, I was learning the blade.” A twirl and a splatter of blood startled a greater portion of the attacking swarm to flee. 

“Meh, fair enough,” the Medic responded, having no answer to that. 

“Besides, the chicks all dig a newt with a sword,” Yunan continued, causing the Medic to sputter. 

After that, everything just descended into a mad brawl of fluttering wings, shrieking monsters, and skittering blades on bone. It didn’t really take all that long before the remaining Batsquitoes decided it was in their best interests to make like a leaf and leave.
___

A few hours later, and the trio of newts were once again outside of Mother Olm. Horas was rolling his shoulders, getting the kinks out of them from having carried the Olm-sized salve tin the entire time. Yunan and the Medic, on the other hand, were busy cleaning their gear of the blood that had accumlated on them from the fighting.

“Well,” Parisia started, “I think that we owe you a great bonus for the removal of those Batsquitoes from Mother Olm. I’ll go have a few Olms go get some gems and artifacts for your group to take back to Newtopia with you as you leave. Many thanks, newts.” The large olm bowed minutely before going and directing some other olms to do tasks.

The trio paused for a moment, before Yunan asked, “Does anyone else feel like something grand was supposed to happen around now?”

“No, not really,” Horas replied, “We did our job and now it’s done and we are moving on to the next thing. That is how this sort of thing usually goes, isn’t it?”

“I’m not really sure myself, usually there is some grand fight at the end of my assignments and while the Batsquito colony was a good fight it wasn’t on the scale or variety of fighting I am used to finishing my assignments with,” Yunan responded.

“Well,” the Medic said, “I don’t know about you two, but I am off to go and write a report on the interior anatomy of the olms and the other findings I got from this assignment. See ya.” With that, the Medic turned around and made for one of the carriages, leaving a trail of ear wax behind them.

“Do you think that he knows…” Yunan trailed off, grimacing at the trail of muck that the Medic was leaving behind him.

“Oh yeah, he definitely knows. He is probably going to go and scrape some of that stuff into a storage jar for later study and evaluation.” Horas shuddered, “Disgusting.”