Chapter 219: Times They Are A Changin’
The Warden fumbled the heavy iron key in his hands, trembling as he stepped into his study. His investigation had yielded results. Unfortunately. He had thought that he was the master of secrets in this place, but apparently, there were deeper machinations beyond even him.
He glanced toward the cage by his desk. Three pigeons. He'd have enough for three messages. He could only hope that they would be enough. Especially considering the threat of interception in the air or even at their destinations. Who knew if these recipients were already compromised?
Internally, he gave a dry chuckle. Ironic that, after all this business with Harold’s nightmarish demon and Arthur’s possession, he had no choice but to gamble on it being a huge misunderstanding. Regardless, he had no choice. He'd send the message anyway. He just hoped he wasn't opening up the Kingdom to a worse invasion.
He moved quickly to the writing desk, pulling out the thin slips of paper even before he sat down. Scribbled messages filled the sheets in a rush. Harold glanced toward the door nervously as he rolled and attached the, to each pigeon’s slim legs. As he tossed the last bird out the window, he allowed himself a relieved sigh. Only a second later, there was pounding at the door.
The Warden looked around for some place to escape. He knew it was futile, but his instincts as an operative for left him searching for any outs. He had known that by coming here to deliver the messages, he would be giving up his chance to get away cleanly. But that didn't mean he was going to go easily. He had many, many backup plans, as any paranoid man must. Just because they probably wouldn’t work here didn’t mean they weren’t worth trying.
Prying the window the rest of the way open, he flipped a lever hidden in the windowsill. A faint grinding sound echoed throughout the courtyard below.
He leaned out the window. What had once been flat wall now had an irregular pattern of bricks jutting out, each no more than an inch exposed. It was by no means an obvious change, especially from a distance.
He flexed his fingers, hoping against hope that his arthritis-riddled fingers would be strong enough for one last adventure. This was a risky exit to take. A decade ago, he wouldn't have even thought about it. But now? He wasn't sure if he'd have better luck risking capture and finding an escape from… well, whatever hole they decided to throw him in.
Swinging a leg over the sill, he reached with his bare toes to find the next hold. They touched on the granite below and nearly slipped. Dust from the crumbling mortar had shaken loose as he had activated the escape route.
Carefully, he rubbed his foot back and forth, clearing the spot before he transferred his weight over slowly. He knew it wasn't going to be enough. This escape was not exactly subtle. If anything, it would be better if someone had just stored a rope and tossed it down at this point. But the clever engineering of this solution had won him over when they designed the thing. Of course, the whole thing relied on him getting to the bottom to hide the handholds before someone else came in the room. And that was going to be a tough ask for him.
Methodically, he swept the ledges free of dust and climbed down the makeshift ladder, his forearms trembling all the way. Just as he thought he had, by some miracle, made it down without being noticed, a guard's head popped out the window. His eyes widened as he spotted the Warden. "What the-"
The guard cut off as his captain yanked him back through the window. His quick reactions saved the man as the sill crumbled under him and almost sent him tumbling out the window. Dang. There went his hope to at least take someone down with him. The Warden finally reached the bottom, but didn't even bother to pull the lever to hide the stones once more. They’d already been spotted.
Reaching into another hidden compartment, he quickly wrapped a dark green robe around himself. Unfortunately, time had taken its toll. The robe had a few holes in it, not quite covering him as well as it should have.
"I definitely got too soft," he muttered to himself. He had stopped maintaining these escapes a long time ago. After all, he never expected to actually get this desperate. It might’ve been a fatal mistake.
Darting away from the castle, the Warden searched for a crowd of people to slip into. He tried to blend in to a group of passing merchants, but only a minute later, a firm hand on his shoulder pulled him up short. Another guard stood frowning at him. He’s been had.
It was over. Unless he wanted to start killing relatively innocent guards, of course. This was going to be rough.
He raised his hands in surrender as additional guards approached to surround him. The Warden gave one final sigh of defeat at the sight. "I'll go quietly.”
---
I hovered high above our fledgling city and gazed down upon it. The humans had been adapting well to the recent changes around here, and things were coming along nicely. That battle arena had lent a certain amount of majesty to the skyline. Plus, it did look quite impressive from above, even next to the monstrous castle. Other projects of a similar scale were being built all around the city for a variety of functions, such as defense and for upkeep.
The biggest relief to me was our sanitation system though. At first, they hadn’t quite understood the idea of the cleaning wagons, much less why they should be housed in the center of the city instead of the outskirts. Luckily, it only took one conversation with Arthur to get his city planners to see sense.
Now, a massive warehouse full of stables and wagons would house the workers and equipment for the city’s sanitation workers. They’d go. street by street, sweeping up any debris along paths, tidying up community areas, and generally keeping the place neat and tidy. Each morning, they would also go from house to house and empty the waste bins left out front. It helped to make sure that trash and like would not gather in people's homes. At Trent’s insistence, we called the group the Sweeping Society.
Of course, individuals were still responsible for keeping things clean as well. People took great pride in their homes and rooms being spick and span. It just helped to designate more formal roles and jobs among the people. It also helped to bring the trash to one place where I could get rid of it.
Once I had convinced them of the importance for such a group, the policies had been implemented right away. The soldiers, as well as the people living in the castle who received similar waste disposal services, were quite happy with the operation. In fact, once people realized how many levels the people in these positions were gaining, it was quickly a sought-after position. It was a bit of a problem. Apparently Beatrice had to insist that they keep the pay high enough for a living wage. Otherwise, the demand for the position was simply so high that people were willing to pay the organizers to get involved. It was rather strange.
Instead, they implemented some sort of lottery and secondary reward system to designate daily Sweeping Society members. I was just happy that everyone was so excited about cleaning.
The other important but less noticeable improvement was underground. I wasn't much for digging through the dirt, for obvious reasons. However, the humans had a brilliant idea of moving all of their waste and sewage below the dirt and then moving it out of the city.
I was thoroughly on board with the idea and assisted them plenty of times. It was a difficult project. Between the sheer amount of stone they needed, the manpower required to mine it, the fact that all this incredible infrastructure had to go underground? It made sense. So many times, I simply used my lasers to melt the dirt into something that would not leak. Kind of like how Daedalus had described. I was also very careful to scan the surroundings and make sure this filth it did not flow into their drinking water. Instead, it flowed deep into the mountains, filling up caverns down there that likely could use the nutrients stored within the filth. Hopefully. If not, I could always go clean it up sometimes. But Trent’s lessons on compost had stuck with me a bit.
Those products were less visually impressive than the battle arena, but I was quite proud of them. I was also proud of the Nighty Knights's performance in the arena. Ever since it had been made, they had been holding their weekly contests for castle passes there. So far, not one of them had made a fool of themselves. I was satisfied with their understanding of my teachings. The adult army they were training was doing okay, I suppose, but they really couldn't match the growth of the young children as they shot up in both levels and height.
I lifted further above the city, aiming toward the dragon's mountain. We talked regularly, even if our visits were usually on the shorter side nowadays. We did enjoy playing a game or two as well, but I could tell that Daedalus just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts for a bit. My facial expression subroutines had adapted to the dragon’s emotions. He seemed melancholy after thinking about his friend for so long, and I wanted to give him enough space to work through it. I could only imagine how upset I would be if I had to wait 10,000 years for Beatrice to wake up from a nap.
But I also didn't want to leave him alone too much. So, as I rocketed up to his cave, I let out a beep of greeting. The grumbling response came a moment later. "Hello, little godling."
I responded by projecting some text. "Hello, fat dragon."
Daedalus blew some smoke over my way with a laugh. "Hey, don't be like that. I’m not fat. You’re just very little"
"Well, you are very large."
I was pretty sure this counted as humor. It was a promising attempt at least. But maybe I'd have to reconsider my approach, as the dragon didn't laugh as much as my models had predicted. Perhaps something was off with my observations. Or was it something else?
Anyway, we moved past the greetings, and Daedalus and I swapped small stories to catch up. Mostly, it was me just telling him of the city forming below while he offered some advice about the cities of old. It was rare that he actually paid attention to them very much. Mostly, he just burned them down. But he did have some insights into how to build defenses against a giant monster from the sky. We didn't take a lot of his suggestions as they were not very practical, but it was something that I had passed along a few times when I had felt the need.
After the small talk, Daedalus made a face. "There has been something on my mind, little godling, truth be told. I'm not sure if you can tell, but something in the world isn't right. I can feel it in the magic."
I projected the image of a person shrugging, not able to understand what he was talking about.
"Yeah, I suppose you haven't been here long enough to really tell the difference, but the magic balance is shifted. Something's changing, and I'm afraid I have an idea of what it is.”
I motioned for him to continue. “You see, beings of immense power draw magic in from around them, creating eddies and pockets and swirls of the energy of the cosmos. Between your actions, a Lieutenant waking up, and other things, it feels as though something’s happening. Something big, for the first time in nearly 10,000 years.
“But there is another thing as well. Something besides what’s happening here. Far to the east, actually. Something drew in a massive amount of power briefly, but it has since gone into the north. I can feel it. It worries me."
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