It had been only a short time since the Council had last convened in Xaten. Therefore, the announcement of a new Council was met not only with displeasure, but also with apprehension—everyone in Alveristas already knew that the Matriarch of the Fifth House had been attacked right at the Council's exit. Many details of the skirmish were unknown, so each of the three Matriarchs arrived at the Council practically at the head of an ahresht—anathema in the recorded history of the Dark Eldar. To avoid attending the Council alone, each Matriarch brought several athars from their House. The seriousness of their approach was demonstrated by the fact that some of the athars came to the Council not only in armor and weapons, but even in masks. The Matriarchs of the three Houses themselves, for the first time in a long time, dressed not for beauty, pretentiousness, or eroticism, but for practicality and comfort.
The assembled Matriarchs and their retinues glanced sideways at the empty I'si'tor sofa. Some glances cast there indicated satisfaction, while others expressed wariness, apprehension, and even sympathy. The High Arir, also present at the Council, tried to feign indifference, but through their masks of composure, concern about the proceedings occasionally gleamed. However, not everyone tried to hide their emotions: Shekt, the High Arir of Akrio, was furious about something, her expression bloodthirsty and her soft hissing, like a tangle of mating deep snakes, as she surveyed everyone present.
Akesh, the only one who came to Khitan in a frivolous outfit, stood up and spoke:
"In response to interesting and disturbing information received from our scouts, I, Akesh Khitan, have convened a High Council of Houses." The beginning of her speech added tension to the atmosphere and captured everyone's attention. "My scouts report that the illithid capital of Ishakshi has been destroyed and captured by the forces of one of the Great Houses." Akesh glanced at the suspiciously looking Athar and, briefly stopping her gaze on the empty couch, added, "They say they saw the emblems of I'si'tor there."
And then silence fell. Now all eyes turned to the empty black velvet sofa with gold legs.
* * *
With the grin of an idiot who'd spotted a yellow Zaporozhets with blue polka dots, I walked around the accumulator, examining its surface. It was empty when we entered the hall. Presumably, all its energy had been spent maintaining the defense during the first attack. At that moment, a dozen of my golden-haired Atara, four guards, and a pair of scarlet sisters were charging it. The charging was proceeding so quickly that the accumulator was literally darkening before our eyes.
The vampires brought in three dozen purebred Dark Eldar. I laid them out and carved a massive thirty-pointed star into the stone. I will elevate the prisoners into blue-eyed Athar. The thing is, Seah and Leah literally emanate Dark mana into the surrounding space. This means that in certain situations, it's best not to be near them for ordinary creatures... or even for those not quite ordinary. I heard that during one battle, the Darkness burst from their bodies and destroyed everything in its reach. Only by a miracle (or by the will of the Eternal?) did any of Atere's squad die, although one of Kriata's Arir had to be seriously treated. No, I can forge dozens of them, but what should I do with the scarlet Athar? Organize them into separate squads? And how will they interact with the Atretas? Nothing. Free mana of any kind is always bad. Anything can happen in a space filled with Power: the thinning of the very structure of the world can undermine the foundations of equilibrium, resulting in the possibility of the spontaneous formation of ats and ordered structures from them. This, in turn, is fraught with the creation of arbitrary spells. So too much Power is also bad. I remember reading a bylina back on Earth about the hero Svyatogor. I came across it in an old Soviet collection. Specifically, about his death. So the analogy here, I think, is clear. And frankly, this transformation is very expensive. Just think – two and a half million ergs!
Having charged the accumulator, my athar and my vampires pushed the princess and her brood out of the hall. I then began creating a terrifyingly complex system of ats, a spell no one knew about... A brief activation—and the ritual was complete. Three dozen athar opened their eyes almost simultaneously and began to rise. And then a slight embarrassment occurred: before their ascension, they were of varying heights and builds, and now not only had they grown taller, but their arms had also stretched out, and some of the newly minted high priestesses' clothes had become strained across the chests and hips... It was too bad to leave things like this.
"Charge the accumulator," I gave the command.
The converted sit cross-legged—I hear someone's clothes ripping—and begin pumping mana into the transparent crystal. A couple of minutes, and it turns anthracite-black. When they've finished charging it, I give the order:
- Follow me.
There's a veritable pandemonium of Atretases near the hall's exit—almost the entire Tatrett has gathered here, led by Tialin. I look into her eyes and see fear, uncertainty, and respect there. My voice rings out in near-total silence:
"Bring in another thirty Dark Eldar prisoners. Separate the Light Eldar, if there are any. Yes, we have uniforms and weapons?"
- Both are only trophy items.
- Tialin, give them everything you have, let them choose for themselves.
"Lord Asheras, there are warehouses filled with clothing and an entire arsenal full of weapons. Of course, their quality is incomparable to what the Great Houses make, but still."
"Good. Take them there and come back immediately." Waiting for her nod, I turned to the three dozen atara frozen in perfect formation and felt the mask of detachment I habitually wore crack. I smiled. "After you've changed, come back too."
The priestesses nodded as if they were one organism and waited for Tialin to lead the way with a dozen Atretases. Another thirty limp, empty-eyed prisoners were hurried past me. Their gait resembled that of the dead: stumbling legs, swaying, arms hanging like whips. As they passed me, I allowed myself to feign disdain. My vampires took up the baton and, leading the Eldar into the chamber with the accumulator, began to lay them down in the same places their predecessors had occupied.
I quickly complete the ritual. It gets faster and faster each time. I don't even feel any feedback or anything like that anymore. The monotonous work is tiring. I hope I don't make any mistakes...
When the Exalted come to their senses, I patiently wait for them to charge the accumulator and then lead them out of the hall. I notice a stunned expression on the princess's face. Ha – just wait until the next group of captives is pushed into the hall and I'm about to go inside, when Tialin appears. Quickly gesturing to her to take the next group to change, I return to my conveyor belt.
By the time I led out the fifth group, the very first ones had already returned, and I was able to assess their attire and weapons. Overall, I was dissatisfied: the clothing was coarser, the armor much clumsier and impractical. Not to mention the lack of masks. The only thing that pleased me was the weapons – instead of scythes, the Athars had chosen large halberds on steel shafts, short swords resembling Greek kopises, straight, narrow swords in worn scabbards, and large crossbows slung across their backs. The only positive aspect of these weapons was that they were beautifully forged. They were definitely the work of the Dwarves; the Dwarven weapons are more refined and always personalized, made for a specific owner. Just like the Eldar.
Sighing, I turned to lead the next group, but instead of the thirty dark ones I'd seen, I found only a dozen or so battered light Eldar. Atere appeared next to them. Answering my silent question, he said:
"The purebreds are gone. The Arirs are checking the lower levels of the hive, but I doubt they'll find anyone there."
- Half-bloods of dark and light?
- Only three.
- To the fireflies.
– Yes, Asheras.
Bad. On the one hand, one hundred and fifty of the strongest Athars is a formidable force, but on the other, these forces are clearly insufficient in a war against all of Alveristas. And I wouldn't discount the possibility of this option. However, there are still two or three hundred prisoners in the camp... We could, of course, begin elevating all the Atretases of our House, but that would mean one thing: I'si'tor would lose excellent Atretases. And from an ideological standpoint, it would be wrong. The fact is, few would willingly agree to lose their individuality and memory. And I, at least for now, am not sane enough to give such power to potential spies, defectors, and saboteurs...
Entering the hall, I erased the drawn star with my teras, literally shattering the floor, and then protected the accumulator. Charging my teras with Fire mana and using them to draw a new twenty-eight-pointed star was easy. The vampires brought all the Eldar into the hall and laid them out, one after the other. I performed the ritual almost automatically—a little more, and if I were awakened in the middle of the night, I would perform it flawlessly, without even fully waking up…
I order the awakened Atar to retreat to the wall and refill the accumulator. The Light Eldar turned out to be very powerful, versatile mages. It seems they all gained their full gift, like me. Since the blue-eyed model was used as a basis, their Darkness gift was a quarter greater than mine, and they had about five thousand powers of all other Forces. An extremely high number, compared to three or four times less. But their Elemental gifts were very weak—I could barely see any traces of them in their auras. The Half-breeds' gift was no different from the Fireflies', except they had more Elemental energy. I couldn't say anything else concrete about the gift. The ritual's effect on eye color was incomplete—while the Dark Eldar's eyes turned the standard blue, the Light Eldar and Half-breeds' eyes ranged from turquoise to blue-green. The Fireflies' hair also didn't completely lighten, becoming a platinum shade. Having admired my creations to my heart's content, I bring them to light.
This time, I'm greeted with absolute silence. If you listen closely, you can hear the breathing of every single person present. I nod to Tialin and hand her the last batch of converts. She looks at the former Light Ones with a mixture of surprise and fear, and, looking each one in the eye, leads them away. I find Atere's tense figure with my gaze and nod to him. He hesitates for a moment, but then approaches. Could he really be afraid?
I glanced sideways at the atars, frozen in their orderly formations. Impressive. And what about our weapons and clothing and accessories…
"Atere, we need to extract this drive and deliver it to the camp. Is that possible?"
He bites his lips for a couple of seconds and replies:
"I think it's possible. But I'll need the help of the converts to transport it."
– Will three dozen ataras be enough?
- Quite...
- How many slaves did they catch?
- About five hundred, Asheras.
- Well, I, together with Tialin, will drive them to the camp.
– And what should we do with the corpses we've collected? I almost forgot!..
- How many are there?
"More than three hundred. Many are badly burned." Anticipating my question, he added, "We stacked them in front of the hive entrance."
Three hundred higher vampires. In peacetime, that's too many, but in wartime, it's extremely few. I turn to the princess:
"Have the vampires transport them to the platform where I raised them. And you know what—have the Ariry of Kriata prepare to create the most powerful Death spell they know."
"The dracolich requires a mass sacrifice—three hundred victims. And this spell is from the very depths of the Book of the Dead. Do you really want this?"
The Book of the Dead. Partially included in the Annals of Darkness, but its spells are represented by Death and Death alone. I have not seen a complete copy of it in our House library. Rumor has it that the original is kept by Sath.
I didn't think long: whatever the external threat Eltruun feared, it was best to be as prepared as possible. And the lives of slaves... Without will and will to live, they'll die anyway... Although, of course, we could brainwash them. But I suspect the half-breeds didn't have their own will or consciousness to begin with. Transform them into atar? Who knows if it will work? What if the ritual goes wrong and the Dark Mana escapes? Half a million ergs of free mana would be enough to cause a localized end to the world...
"Yes." My voice is firm.
- Then we will need the help of everyone who has a strong gift of Death.
- What, one hundred and seventy ataras aren't enough?
- None of them have the great gift of Death.
- And the princess?
"Without her, there would be no point in starting – thanks to her, we'll cut our mana costs in half, and no one will have to sacrifice themselves."
- Hm. I see.
- So, shall we begin?
– Yes.
Looking at the converted frozen in front of me, I gave the order:
- Help him.
As if they were one organism, they nodded and turned their gaze to Atere, awaiting his orders.
– Take all collected whole corpses to the center of the square.
Having ascended to the central chamber, I began the now monotonous task of raising vampires. In my twenties, the part of my gift responsible for Death hit rock bottom. I had to leave the hive for meditation and, at the same time, to gaze at the square.
The bodies were being piled into a huge heap in the middle of the square. The chosen victims were sewn onto the corpses in pairs and seated in a huge circle, into the center of which was drawn everything that had once been breathing. I noticed a pair of priestesses dismantling the remains of the barricade in front of the entrance. Kriata's arirs appeared next to me, patiently waiting for me to notice them.
"Isn't that a bit too much?" I asked them.
– On the contrary, we are not sure that it is enough.
"What about this?" I nodded towards Erruu's giant corpse.
- We thought you needed it for something else.
– Use at your own discretion.
"Yes, Asheras." And they whispered softly, "Help us, Kriata..."
I sat cross-legged and watched with almost indifference as the enormous charred corpse was dragged into the pile. Atere approached me and asked, almost indifferently:
- Did you give permission to use Erruu's body?
– Yes.
– His bones could have made excellent artifacts.
- Eltruun is afraid of something.
Atere froze and even stopped breathing.
"We're now in a situation where an extra dagger up your sleeve is more valuable than a potential profit. By the way, what kind of creature is a dracolich? I only came across a couple of mentions and comparisons in the Borders of Darkness library."
"Well, how can I explain it? I've never seen one myself, but I've come across descriptions... Considered Death's most powerful creation. Don't get me wrong: strongest doesn't mean fastest or most powerful. The fastest are the Scarlet Princes, the most powerful are the Demilichs. Hmm... Do you know what a living or dead dragon is? After a dragon dies, magic remains in its body, and under certain conditions, it can rise like an ordinary undead. Incidentally, Raise Fallen can and does raise a dead dragon. As you can imagine, it's not much different from ordinary undead—they have no intelligence. Not a drop. Only rage and hunger, gnawing at it from within. No abilities—it's just a huge, moving skeleton, capable only of tearing and smashing. Dracolichs, however, are completely different. A dracolich can easily kill an ordinary dragon even twice its size. The dracolich "has an exhalation" and can fly! Its exhalation consists of pure Death mana—you can imagine what that's like on the battlefield. And most importantly, it possesses intelligence, just shy of that of the Hysna. The annals mention that the Sath have only ever created two. The books say they sleep somewhere in their tombs.
– I don't see a dragon skeleton here.
"It doesn't matter, any bones will do. It's all about quantity. The ritual will melt the bone tissue into what we need..."
While we were talking, a horde of priestesses emerged from one of the streets leading to the square, dragging entire bundles of bodies on ropes. Reasonable. I noticed that some of them were wearing remnants of clothing and metal armor, which rattled and scraped like tin cans tied to the back of a car.
"I understand that the tissue will be rejected along with the flesh, but why isn't the metal removed from the corpses?"
"A dracolich is as much an exception to the rule as a Bone Lord and a Dead Knight. The metal will disperse throughout the bone mass, making it much stronger. And how did you think a dracolich kills ordinary dragons? Its essence is not only a magical focus of Death's mana, but also far stronger than living flesh thanks to the inclusion of metals. We'll be throwing weapons and armor from the armory soon, so hurry up and raise the higher vampires." Atere pointedly glanced at the hive.
"I'm exhausted. Better find the local forges—I'm sure they'll have anvils, hammers, unfinished items, and all sorts of scrap."
"Exactly, they still need to be found," he chuckled.
One of the Ariras, Rea, approached us. Her incredibly sharp crescent moon, with its four finger holes, slapped lightly against her thigh as she walked. I noticed that the leather on her pants had a completely different texture on that side. I wondered what kind of animal it was that its hide could withstand contact with a divine weapon? Or perhaps it was simply a special magical treatment that gave such properties to the ordinary material. The Ariras' voice broke me from my reverie:
"In the neighboring building," she turned and pointed to a solid five-story building to the right of the square, "we discovered a warehouse of weapons-grade electrum."
I looked questioningly at Ater, waiting for an explanation, and he answered:
Electrum is an alloy of silver and gold. The ratio is approximately one to one.
- And how much of it is there?
– About three tons…
"Bring everything here." I nodded toward the mountain of bodies. "If there's one thing we have, it's a whole mountain of gold."
Standing up, I glanced at the Atretases pulling various scrap metal from all over the place, and, sighing, returned to the hive to my interrupted task.
* * *
Elviaran carefully rose to her feet and, almost constantly supported by her sister and Eltruun's arms, walked out of her room. Practically collapsing into a narrow chair near the exit, she breathed heavily, looking at her trembling hands, bandaged in blue silk with the symbols of I'si'tor, and leaned back helplessly against the high back. Having regained her composure, she opened her eyes and gazed at the panorama of ruined Ishakshi. The sight filled Elviaran with a sense of harmony. A semblance of a smile appeared on her scarred face, and Elviaran glanced at her sister.
"I didn't think it would be so difficult and painful. How is Asheras?"
"He's creating a monstrous army out of thin air." Seeing the expected surprised reaction to her words, Aerisnitari smirked. "He's transformed one hundred and fifty captured Eldar into Atar, like those who exchange blood with you. Imagine—even the Fireflies haven't escaped this fate! He's raised three hundred and fifty Higher Vampires and is currently preparing the Dracolich ritual..."
- Well, there's nothing to say. What does Tialin say?
"There's no doubt now; it was Asheras who performed a highly complex ritual of almost divine rank. It wasn't the Eternal or Elos. Tialin says the astral plane is seething with spilled Dark Mana."
– Who would have doubted it? What's going on with the portal preparations?
Eltrun boomed grimly:
"It's practically complete. We're just waiting for Asheras. Let me remind you: contact with the House has been lost, and we don't know what's going on..."