Ilar Za'Darmondiel.
***
This was embarrassing. This was… dangerous. All of it. And yet, it was all so glorious.
Like my older sister, Mala, all of my family survived the fall of Zimysta because Etan wished it so; because we had no love for the Spider, only tolerance. Because we were Amun's… family, and the Nox does not kill kin.
Devils loved loopholes, however. We all faced Death's Door and put one foot beyond the threshold, where we remained and became something new. Some were not so fortunate. The only survivors to come from Nadra's womb were her sons, Sorn and Nijal. Aside from them, her 6th daughter, Ryda, was the only to have lived, and only because she was taken to the pits and saved by my brother.
Now, the brothers belonged to Evar as Darkroom instructors, and Ryda became a cleric of the Owl. The rest would become Elven Devils; though no one was eager to see what that meant.
Likewise, Yela was slain by the clerical vampyr, Opal. Nym was thrown into the dark by Kele. Nyx and Naphyss died as well, sentencing them to a fate of fiendish corruption like their sister and mother. Yet Shaenya, Schyrl, Sid, and Javrith lived. The first two as clerics, devoted to the Exalted Gloom or Twilight. The others, like all the other monks, joined Evar and the others, including my Antton and Aldo.
Their sons, however, were here with us now. Novl, Seon, Bazra, and Barro grew the most from their change. Taller. Burlier. Stronger and more ravenous. They held bestial forms of fur and flame within them. A beast that fought its way out to grant them burning eyes, morph their fingernails into claws, and elongate their teeth into sharp fangs. The antithesis to us.
Phoruca, Ryldin, Viconia, and Aufa were just like me. Reduced in age until we found ourselves in the same youthful, undying state was Wilson; only as Fae instead of fiends, though still Undying.
Embarrassing. Yet glorious all the same.
That was hardly the depth of the situation, however. On the contrary, it was the prospect of a war that would persist through the ages, across the realm. Yet even that, it seemed, Amun planned for.
At least, that was what I believed after realizing the vastness of Eotrom.
It was vast, not just in scale, but in its… eccentric population. In Mani and by extension the Cuttleship alone, there was everything from orcs, goblins, and Minotaur to high elves, sentient animals, devils, undead, and now, drow. They were all sophisticated, too. Cultured in his ways. Educated in many fields, skilled in several more. But right now, they were doing as we drow were. Relaxing. Embarrassing though it was.
For many of us, it was our first time, and what a strange feeling it was. Relaxation. Not having to worry about a dagger poking you in the back, if any action or thought was sinful or heretical, not having to worry about poisoned cuisine, instead relishing it. Not having anyone dictate your fate.
It yielded a sense of uncertainty and unease that was first placated by the wealth of knowledge we became privy to. Everyone from Zimysta nearly became obsessed with learning about the surface; verifying if what they'd been told lined up with what they could now see. Then the obsessions branched. The fields of study Amun referred to as 'Science,' his branch of artificing he called 'Engineering.' His machines and devices for locomotion, industry, business, or pleasure. His studies of magic and manipulation; and, of course, his Legions.
Soon after the allure of those revolutionary things waned, the exotic goods of the realm made the sense of unease far too easy to ignore. The divine materials alone had the potential to placate me for a century. But on top of that was a plethora of food and alcohol; clothes and jewelry; armor and weapons; medicine and drugs and a hundred other vices to binge on were found in excess. But even that would not last forever. Especially with our next trial looming overhead.
A trial to prepare us for the countless more to follow.
"Before we go, are you gonna take back what you said about bread, Aunt Vic?"
"How many times have I told you, Novl, do not call me that!" Viconia slammed her fist on the table, attracting not so much attention as one would expect from our surroundings. From our table, however, the outburst forced a few hushed giggles and derisive looks. But not at either of them.
There was little derision in my eye, after all. We were cursed and blessed with the same stroke. While my sons became Darkroom instructors and my grandsons became werewolves; my daughters and I drank the Deeyalber Extract and became like Wilson. Undying but without the fiendish madness. We remained as children of the Fae, yet regressed all the same to the tender age of fifteen.
Viconia, being in her third decade, was hardly effected, and Aufa, being near her second decade, hardly changed, but I lived for over two centuries and Phoruca had just moved past one. Thus, for her, it was the worst, for she had just become an adult.
Strangely, though, it seemed to have no effect on Rickley's Grave Keeper. Or rather, she seemed to be the first to realize the true depth of our new nature as Undying Fae. "I will admit it, bread is better than I expected." Aufa replied to Novl. "Mushrooms are still better, though."
"You say that until I make a mushroom loaf." The high elf, Marsha, quipped.
"It is as humorous as it is curious to know Wilson Koorb has one person he calls a friend." I toyed with my human boy. "Someone as recluse as you, having such a close companion, is… dare I say remarkable."
He replied as tersely as always, rolling his eyes around his plate. "Shocking, I know. Some would say I'm breaking out of my shell."
"Mmm. As we all are due to, I am sure." I mused. Then looked over his features for a long moment before turning away to savor my bread. Good indeed. "Any advice for this room of darkness, Willy dear?"
"That will not be my nickname." The old boy huffed. "However, the only advice I can give you is to give it your all, as cheeky as it may sound. Do so, and even a prime matron will seem like a child to you."
"A prime matron?" I echoed, remembering the sight of this unassuming boy destroying a drow house. With help. "I cannot say I await the day I see what she becomes."
Though he said nothing, enough time in this timeless place had been spent around Wilson Koorb to nearly hear the words echoing in his mind. Thus, I turned to his high elf friend, who was gazing at the silver mushroom growing from the ceiling.
The spores it emitted were rather large and shaped like square, circular, or rectangular scrying mirrors, while others traveled to various parts of his quaint shop to grow more mushrooms in tables, walls, and other parts of the ceiling. The 'tubes', as they called them, showcased a wide range of environments filled with a wider range of humans and other surface creatures - the Legionaries.
It was... strange.
The Legio Noctis was like an urban legend among those from Zimysta. Many stories of them were told over the last several months. Some had even met a few before they even knew who or what they were. And now, we could witness them- view them in their daily lives, doing the most mundane things.
Naturally, with such an obsession, many non-drow sought to join such a legendary force. Collectively, we drow seemed to yearn for it to be perfected, despite us not even being a part of it.
"Wilson, dear?" I turned to him. "What is your opinion of these… Imperators?"
"I've only met a few of them," he said. "Peter, Opal, Zakira, and Elijah; Imperators of the 6th, 7th, 8th, and 11th Legions respectively."
While Aufa made comments about the other clerical vampyr being Amun's mate, I went back to perusing the VoidNet to learn more of these legends until the time finally came. They were... children. Yet educated under a harsh regime Amun imposed on them during their first year at the Bodhi Tree, giving them the same unyielding tenacity and drive found in Amun. Like what was said of Peter, he pulled them to their potential.
What they would do with it was anyone's guess. But I could not wait to see it. Thus, I did as Wilson advised and entered the Darkroom, seeking to reach my potential.
The Darkroom was all it was advertised to be. Namely, the most difficult thing we would face in our lives; the only thing to strike far into the hearts of Noctis Legionaries. But it was in the depths of that darkness where I learned the extent of my newfound power.
We were Undying Fae. No longer did we need trance, food, water, or even air to survive. That became apparent when we descended into the depths of war. Powerless, outnumbered, and without equipment, we cast and we fought; we fought, and we cast at all hours of the day and night.
Through war, I learned firsthand of my only conceivable limit: mana fatigue. I learned firsthand of my ultimate blessing: unbounded freedom. I - we had liberty over fear and overbearing emotions. The former was nonexistent, and the latter had been cast inside a pit of darkness so deep that even the Darkworld could not compare.
All things combined, we adopted a most-useful mindset within the Darkroom: Industriousness; putting every modicum of strength, willpower, and everything else into every task, no matter how mundane. Through that, we learned things far beyond our stations, specializations, and occupations during the first training phase. And in the second, we traveled far beyond normal means. Mountains and valleys; oceans and streams; smoldering volcanoes and toxic bogs. We traveled, researched, and grew. And in the crucible, we dominated.
Though we had regressed in age, some of us were evolved still. And though we were already evolved, benefits were still to be granted upon completing the ritual. Not just new sprites or an official station in the Legion, we gained the right to a specific subset of classes found only in this organization. Though, unlike the Troupe, we were not privy to years of private study to venture down our paths before our training was to begin. It was the opposite.
Post-evolution, we became Brains and spent our time using solely those organs. We remained in the room of darkness, performing feat after feat, learning skill after skill until we arrived at the end of our paths in record time. The completion of one path led to the opening of another, and therein we found that their ends were not dead, only disconnected from other paths that continued toward something legendary.
And so we stepped away from our master classes to claim prestige classes. And so we strove to make those prestigious things legendary.
And so I went from an Arcane Alchemist to a Bio-alchemist and became a Fae Witch, Rogue Terrorist, and a Warlock; Undying Fae. And so I grew into a Witching Warlock and a Rogue Artificer; the Eldritch Doctor, and a Bio-Terrorist.
Geneva's Head Administrator.