- THE LEVIATHAN -
Now it was time for listening.
As Vargas did so, Aethril began to quite accidentally dispel some of his illusions about her. He'd been wary of her, of course--of her power, of her temper and threat. She'd melted one of the Forge just as easily and without warning as Lord Dhracia had done. But beyond that he'd seen little form of leadership from her. He'd known she was a new Hand, one in training in fact. That she was new to the caves, or rather-... had been here for millennia but had mostly slept through it, as had they all.
Now, however, he began to see a thread of competence he hadn't been shown before, and he responded to it: he grew more attentive, more interested, paying more than fearful obedience. Perhaps the threat of the Creator has awoken this in her, he thought, or simply prompted her showing it but either way, this is good.
He also made a mental note to get a chair.
But her suggestion of questioning his people--that was unexpected. He hadn't thought she, of all creatures, would suggest communication and compromise. "I evicted the last that grew too disobedient," he said quietly, affirming her suggestion to cull, but other than this he didn't interrupt.
The mention of Asher chrysalizing was... troubling; he did know it happened, of course, but it seemed to be with frequency as late. Perhaps the magic here just wasn't strong enough to keep so many alive and aware? He filed this thought away for later, though, because Aethril was still addressing him. He gave her his full attention.
And here came the parts that made him wonder: her suggestion to use Hydra again, to use old Champions. These were good ideas. He hadn't thought of Hydra in cycles, let alone its champions. She mentioned two of them, and he puzzled over that for a moment--he could only think of one, the Desert Rose. Most of them would want nothing to do with him. He puzzled, too, over how to explain that to Aethril--that working for the monster that had, slavering, tracked them through their hellscapes was probably not top on their to-do lists. But finding more, and finding others with experience--well, it was unlikely but searching for them wasn't a bad idea. It had been something he'd asked Cain to do, but so far there had been no word of anyone remotely useful. Sending out another--"When Eight is ready, I will have Cain take it to search for prospects as training," he suggested, "early on, so it is a work in progress rather than delayed." He paused, thinking. "Hydra is useful, if we can offer them rewards worth braving it for. For the most part, these Gembound think they have it well enough without such risks. They were hatched into freedom and for the most part it has been all but promised to them that it will remain this way." By Astraea's mouth, no less, when he'd been but an Overseer. "There is little I can offer them for the challenge that they do not already have," he mused, and then blinked. "Perhaps alterations I could make for them... changes to their bodies. If they'd risk themselves for such power." Spikes, claws, teeth, whatever.
Plastic surgery in return for mercenary work, really. It was an odd idea but it might work.
"I can only think of one Champion in our ranks," he went on, addressing only briefly the rest of what she'd said, so as not to delay her final request too much. "More would be of use but most would avoid me at all costs." Still, it churned up an idea in his mind. He pondered, thought it over, and could find no flaw in it. "You have given me an idea, however, and your words bring insight. It is good to have capable leadership. Please, make your request," he added, with a little bow of his head.
And his eyes slid right, eyeing the rock, and he again made a mental note to get the woman a chair.