Day 3 of Construction
The bear kin arrived at dawn, because apparently "dramatic timing" was a universal constant.
I was in the middle of shaping a support beam, carefully, because the last one had exploded when I pushed too much mana through it, when every creature in the territory suddenly went quiet.
That particular kind of quiet that meant "apex predator incoming."
Nyx's head snapped up, scales rippling. Through the bond: Visitors. Large. Powerful. Many.
"How many?"
Twelve. No, fifteen. They're trying not to be threatening, but they're... substantial.
The fairies scattered to defensive positions with surprising efficiency. Lira landed on my shoulder, her usual playfulness replaced with sharp focus. "That's organized movement. Military."
"Great. Just what I needed while trying to build a wall."
Elder Mirielle appeared, floating with unusual urgency. "They're bear kin. Northern clans. This is either very good or very bad."
"Which do you think it is?"
"With your luck? Both."
The delegation emerged from the tree line, and "substantial" was an understatement.
Bear kin were huge, the smallest of them was easily six and a half feet, and the largest topped seven. They moved with the confident grace of people who knew they were dangerous and didn't need to prove it. Fur ranging from white to brown, some with tribal markings, all armed but with weapons sheathed.
At their head walked a woman who commanded attention like gravity commanded falling.
She was tall, nearly seven feet in her partial-shift form, with white fur that seemed to glow in the morning light. Ice-blue eyes that missed nothing. Runes of power etched into her arms. She wore practical leather and fur armor that somehow looked regal, and moved with the certainty of someone who'd never questioned her right to lead.
[ENTITY IDENTIFIED: SIRAQ, MATRON OF THE NORTHERN CLANS] [LEVEL: ???] [THREAT ASSESSMENT: EXTREME (IF HOSTILE)] [REPUTATION: UNKNOWN]
She stopped at what she clearly considered a respectful distance, about fifty feet, which for warriors meant "we're not immediately attacking but we could."
For a long moment, we just stared at each other.
Then her eyes tracked over me, taking in my height, my scales, my horns, the power that radiated from me like heat haze. Her expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the slight widening of her eyes, the way her breath hitched just barely.
[SOCIAL CHECK: SIRAQ IS IMPRESSED (AND TRYING NOT TO SHOW IT)]
"Knox Ashford," she said, her voice like rolling thunder with undertones of ice. "The demon who conquered the Shadowfen Heart. We've heard stories."
"Most of them are probably exaggerated," I said, very aware of Nyx at my side, the fairies watching from the trees, and the fact that I was shirtless, covered in stone dust, and holding a half-finished support beam.
"Are they?" Her gaze flicked to the partially constructed fortress, to Nyx, to the organized chaos of my territory. "The stories say you absorbed a corrupted dungeon heart, evolved into something that shouldn't exist, and soul-bonded to a primordial dragon. Which parts are exaggerated?"
"...Okay, those parts are accurate."
One of her warriors, a massive bear with brown fur and a scar across his muzzle, snorted. "He admits it just like that. Either brave or stupid."
"Elder Yorrik," Siraq said mildly, "perhaps both."
"Fair assessment," I agreed. "What brings the northern clans to Shadowfen?"
Siraq's expression shifted, less formal, more real. "The altars. Twelve ancient sites across the continent, dormant for centuries. Three days ago, they all awakened simultaneously. The mana pulse was felt from here to the frozen wastes."
"And you think I did that?"
"You're the only being of sufficient power to have triggered them. The timing... the day after you emerged from the dungeon, is not a coincidence." She paused. "We need to know: are you a threat?"
The question hung in the air. Behind Siraq, her warriors tensed. Around me, my own people prepared for violence.
Nyx's tail twitched, ready to transform and fight. Lira's wings buzzed with barely contained energy.
I looked at Siraq, at the wariness in her eyes, the responsibility weighing on her shoulders, the very real fear that I might be the disaster everyone had been dreading.
"I'm not a threat," I said simply. "I'm building a home. Making a family. Trying to be better than what I was. If that scares people, that's their problem, not mine."
Siraq studied me for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, she smiled, small but genuine.
"Good answer." She turned to her delegation. "Lower your guards. We're not fighting today."
The warriors relaxed incrementally. Yorrik grumbled something about "wasted trip" but he was grinning.
"May we enter your territory?" Siraq asked formally. "We've traveled far, and there are... discussions to be had."
I looked at Nyx. Through the bond: Your call.
I sense no deception. But watch the matron. She's hiding something.
"You're welcome here," I said. "Though fair warning, we're in the middle of construction, so facilities are... limited."
"We're used to rough accommodations."
"Great. Lira, can you... "
"Already on it!" The fairy zipped off toward the grove. "Pip! Get the good supplies! We have guests!"
As the bear kin delegation crossed into the territory, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to get a lot more complicated.
Especially when I caught Siraq glancing at me again, quick, assessing, with something in her expression that made my tail twitch nervously and Nyx's possessive instincts flare.
This was going to be interesting.