Annie sighed, fed up with her research.
“Hey Tantalon, why are the Muzerkers considered such a threat? Nothing I find suggests they have the numbers to field an invading force, nor that they should be seen as a threat.”
Contrary to what the scholars on Constant might think, their Libraries were not as well versed as they seemed to think.
So far, all she had managed to find on the supposed nation of musical entertainers was that they had seemingly perfected musical performance, to such a degree that they were well sought after during dark times to keep the moral of the people up.
Hell, if what she had pieced together was correct, they could even weaponize music, which was a scary, yet preposterous thought all by itself.
Well, considering that I’ve met the literal embodiments of Life and Death, maybe weaponized music isn’t that farfetched. Annie mused, while Tantalon started warming itself up, apparently needing to be fully awake to tell her this tidbit of knowledge.
“Accessing records.” It stated monotonously, emitting tendrils of energy to access the digital record jack located nearby.
Annie was glad she’d chosen this newer facility, which allowed both a physical search of the data, and a digital search.
Small glowing red sigils began to form, before quickly being wiped and replaced by the cold and lifeless deep blue that was Tantalon’s normal colouring.
He can emote? I didn’t think he could……..
“Interesting. The records have been wiped, but in such a way that no one but a Lord would even figure it out. But whoever did it must’ve known that the Courts would never know about it, because they have their own set of records, which can only be altered by a Ruler-class power.” Tantalon mused aloud.
“Okay, and how is that relevant to what I asked you?”
As knowledgeable as the orb-like device was, it had a bad habit of talking to her as if she was entangled in Court Politics, and knew as much as it did.
A brief darkening occurred over the orb, it’s version of a sigh.
“It means that, for all intents and purposes, their existence has been removed from our reality.”
Annie was confused. She’d managed to find a few scatterings of information during her research, yet Tantalon was telling her they’d been erased from reality?
Then the reality of what Tantalon just said sunk in. All traces of this supposedly long sought after race of capable magicians and musical entertainers had been effectively removed from all traces of reality.
“Who has that sort of power?” Annie whispered, not wanting to hear the answer. She was already hated by the Mending Court just due to her being human, and the Quiet Court had her in its loose, yet secure control. She hadn’t had a chance to meet the Other Court, purely because her work for the Quiet Court kept her busy enough that she couldn’t give them the time they deserved.
And these three Courts effectively ruled reality.
Their will was law, both figuratively and literally, both in the laws that the people lived by, and the laws that reality was required to obey.
“The Other Court.” Tantalon answered flatly, the lack of emotion somehow making it clear to Annie that it wasn’t so much relaying information to her, but actually trying to keep its own emotions in check, which was an incredible change of pace from the two moods she associated with the orb; bored and monotonous, or bored and snarky.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because only the Æthereal and its mockery of a court would be this thorough about discouraging others by denying them the sources they need, but giving them enough to be curious.” A low level of hate and malice could barely be heard in the orb’s tone, its surface somehow becoming so dark that it appeared to be swallowing the surrounding light.
There was a moment of silence, as both Annie and Tantalon collected themselves, before Tantalon resumed, his colouring going back to the deep midnight blue.
“The Courts have their own modus operandi for doing things.” Tantalon said, his voice not quite monotonous anymore, as if something had changed within him.
“The Mending Court is just like life, in that it always leaves a mess and takes only what it vital for its needs.” Tantalon glowed green, and a jungle environment appeared on his surface, a hungry Whiptail and a dead herdbeast prominent on his surface. The Whiptail was using its sharp tailwhips to slice open the beast’s stomach, since only the herdbeasts underside wasn’t covered in the huge metallic plates.
The scene wasn’t long, but it was enough to get the point across: The Whiptail fed itself until it was full, then left the remains of the large beast for whatever would stumble upon it.
“The Quiet Court is precise, almost surgical in their methods. They take everything, and neatly tie off all loose ends. They either completely deny the existence of something, or make it quite clear that the information you require is quite redundant and that no other sources exist.” Tantalon’s surface went blue, and focused on a swarm of Daggerfish and a wounded Blabow that was floating on the surface of a river.
It was quite clear that the Blabow wouldn’t make it to the safety of the shore, as the swarm promptly devoured, feathers and all. Not even the bones remained.
Annie had a new found fear of the small, hand sized fish. If she hadn’t just witnessed their erasure of the Blabow, she wouldn’t have even known the metallic bird had met its grisly fate there.
“Then, the Other Court.” Tantalon spat the name, before regaining its composure.
“They work in a way that takes all that you would need, but still leaving something behind for those who might be worthy of knowing the contents of what was taken.” This time, Tantalon didn’t show her a scene.
“Kind of like how some serial killers end up leaving behind a ‘calling card’, so that those who find their kills know it was them?”
Tantalon laughed, a rare sound by itself. However, it wasn’t a humorous or happy sound, rather more scornful in tone.
“A twisted, yet fitting analogy.”
“Back to my question?” Annie asked, hoping for an inkling as to why the Muzerkers would assist in the break out that Annie was tasked with analysing.
“Oh right. The Muzerkers are considered such a threat, because if one of the Clans think a threat needs to be taken down, they only need ten members of the clan to do so, depending on how much land the threat claims.”
“Why ten?”
“Typically five or so to do the performance, and the other five to actually go in and reap what they sow.”
Annie sighed, not getting to what he was insinuating.
“Tantalon, I’m not even from this reality. Treat me as if I have no clue what you’re talking about, please?”
Tantalon paused, his blue colour pulsing in a strange yet hypnotic way.
“Sorry, Lady Fenrir. I keep forgetting that while you bear an Old Soul, you weren’t granted the privilege of having its knowledge bestowed on you.”
Annie ignored the Lady Fenrir nonsense. Tantlon wasn’t the first to call her by that strange name, or treat her differently because of it. However, she had a task to do, and couldn’t waste time on what he said. She’d save that for a later date, because it was obviously of importance, since it was because she had this ‘Old Soul’ that she had been given Tantalon.
“So, start from the top. How can only ten Muzerkers bring down most threats?”
“They’re mainly used for taking petty Tyrants, Warlords, and Aspiring Gods. Their usual modus operandi is to do a constant performance, which encourages those unhappy with the threat to rise against them.”
Tantalon paused, allowing the information to sink in, before continuing.
“Those not performing, actively encourage and protect those willing to rise against the threat.”
“So, they don’t need their own army. They can literally create an army from whoever they’re fighting.”
“No. There needs to be enough dissent in the hearts of the majority for that to work. The average combat ready Muzerker is an army all by themselves. They merely–