Chương 43: Truth is truth, regardless of scale

The moth colony occupied what could only be described as a city. Admittedly, it was a city designed by moths. This meant that urban planning had taken a distant second place behind the question of '"Can we attach something shiny to it?' The answer, judging from the evidence, had been yes. Thousands of glowing crystals dangled from every available surface. Those that could not be dangled had been balanced. Those that could not be balanced had been glued.

Those that resisted all reasonable attempts at placement had apparently been incorporated into local government. The result was a sprawling metropolis of silk bridges, crystal towers, and luminous chambers that shimmered with enough reflected light to make Fabrisse instinctively shield his eyes. There weren't any glyphlights nor enchanted lanterns around, yet this place was far brighter than anywhere he'd been at night.

Light bounced from crystal to crystal, reflected from silk, scattered through translucent cocoons, then reflected again until the entire cavern glowed with the soft brilliance of a permanently confused sunrise. Liene grabbed his sleeve and whispered, "This patch of light is the one we always see on the top of Heliospire! Isn't it amazing?"

Heliospire was the Light Wing's observation tower, built so students could study celestial alignments, atmospheric aether currents, and other things that sounded considerably more impressive than staring out over the countryside. Fabrisse had never officially been granted access. He had been there seven times.

"I would like to remind you that this particular site is normally left alone," trailing just behind them, Celline once again voiced her concern. Crystal Thaumaturges, Light Thaumaturges, Geologists, Surveyors, Naturalists, and at least one very enthusiastic economist had all submitted proposals regarding the extraordinary concentration of crystals within the colony. The problem was the moths. Like many aethertouched insects, they possessed a spectacularly unhelpful defense mechanism.

If sufficiently alarmed, an entire colony could enter a state of mass resonance mania. The resulting surge could travel through local leyline networks—networks of naturally flowing aether—for miles. This was considered unfortunate because the surrounding leylines happened to support several regional communication arrays, three long-range relay stations, and a significant portion of the Synod's passive aether collection infrastructure.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Liene hummed.

"We'll only take five crystals. Maybe six. We won't even touch the moths." Celline produced a notebook somewhere inside her cloak and started muttering aloud as she scribbled, "'Subject demonstrates a persistent inability to distinguish between conservation efforts and shopping opportunities.'""Hey!" Liene protested. The pen continued.

"'Delinquency behavior extends beyond curfew violations and appears to encompass ecological crimes in the planning stage.'" That sounded like biased journalism. Fabrisse suspected the conclusion had been drafted several days before the expedition began. Liene looked around and said to Celline, "Actually, Celline. Since you're here… you should lead the way." Celline stopped scribbling.

"Why?"

"Because you're the crystal expert. C'mon." Liene nudged her shoulder.

"Isn't that why you're tagging along?"

"Not really, but fine." Celline pointed at Fabrisse.

"But then I get an exclusive interview with Kestovar on the way back."

"An interview?"

"You're the most interesting thing to happen to the Synod this semester! First the Eidralith and now this? Oh, I haven't talked about the Eidralith yet, have I? Oh yes, that was quite the week. Technically, the Gazette isn't supposed to report on it, but who cares? Journalism is about uncovering the truth." The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. That also didn't sound particularly good.

"You write articles ranking the best pies near campus," Liene said.

"And I discovered the truth."

"Which was?"

"Mrs. Dobbins' blackberry pie remains undefeated for the third consecutive season. Truth is truth, regardless of scale."

"I can't make a decision for Fabri. You'll have to convince him," Liene said.

"You're still leading though, right?" Celline sighed.

"Fine." Liene and Fabrisse followed Celline's directions toward the outer districts of the colony. Here the crystal structures were smaller and more scattered. Only a handful of Embermoths drifted through the air, glowing wings painting lazy streaks of orange and gold between the silk walkways. These moths were considerably larger than any moth had a right to be. Their bodies were roughly the size of housecats, while its wings stretched nearly a pace from tip to tip.

Warm orange light pulsed through delicate veins in the translucent membranes, making it resemble a floating lantern. None seemed particularly interested in the visitors as of yet. Fortunate.

"Mmmm," Liene said.

"They're so beautiful."

"Shhh," Celline said.

"Keep your voice down. And if you absolutely must use magic, crouch low and keep it weak. Small cantrips only."

"Oh, right. Aether scares them," Liene added. One of the larger Embermoths floated overhead. Its wings glowed like stained glass illuminated from within. Beneath its thorax, a swollen amber sac protruded near the rear of its body. Liene immediately pointed at it.

"Do you know what that is?" Fabrisse answered.

"Is that ember—""Hot honey!" she announced.

"Shh…" Celline said.

"Sorry. Hot honey!" She whisper-announced.

"Well, not actually honey. That's just what everyone calls it. Their backs produce this really sticky resin that is warm all the time. The Crystal Thaumaturges call them, what, emberwax?" Celline nodded.

"Emberwax," Liene repeated, nodding as she did.

"Personally, I think hot honey sounds better."

"They use it to build everything," Celline added as she gestured broadly toward the nearest crystal tower. Up close, Fabrisse could see faint amber seams running between the crystals. The construction was obvious now. Thousands of crystal fragments had been bonded together by translucent resin, layer upon layer, until the resulting structure resembled natural growth at first glance. Liene explained.

"The resin hardens around whatever surface they attach it to. Is that right, Celline?"

"Yeah, basically. It contains trace amounts of aether-rich minerals. Over time, it slowly attracts ambient aether and dissolved crystal particulates from the surrounding stone. Decades later, you get this." Celline studied the tower for a few moments. Then she shook her head.

"These won't work."

"What do you mean they won't work?"

"They're too old." She walked toward the nearest structure and tapped one of the larger crystal growths with a knuckle. The crystal emitted a soft chiming sound.

"See this? The resin has fully mineralized. The crystal growths have fused into the surrounding stone. Removing one safely would normally require a proper extraction array, resonance dampeners, surveying equipment, two licensed Crystal Thaumaturges, and a very boring approval form. That's before we account for the moths." Decades? Fabrisse had assumed the process required centuries. Crystal growth usually rewarded patience measured in generations, not academic calendars.

"Could we just wiggle one loose?" Liene asked.

"No… but there are younger ones inside that hopefully we can wiggle loose without magic." She pointed deeper into the colony.

"We'll have to go inside for the fresh-growth crystals."

"How fresh are they?"

"A few years." Liene looked delighted.

"A few years is fresh?"

"For crystals, yes."

"I love crystals." Fabrisse looked past the nearest towers. What he had initially mistaken for a cavern wall was actually the mouth of a tunnel. Beyond it, the glowing avenues narrowed into winding passages lined with silk and crystal. The further they stretched, the tighter they seemed to become, until the glow eventually vanished into the darkness beyond. He knew enough geology to understand that caves had a deeply irritating habit of continuing.

A year back, he'd accompanied Cakil's survey team searching for a limestone deposit north of his commune. They had entered shortly after dawn. By the time they reached the mapped endpoint, the sun had set. The cave had continued anyway.

"Are there predators in here?" Fabrisse asked. Celline shook her head.

"Probably not. The moths would be acting differently if there were." Fabrisse supposed that was reassuring. He glanced toward the tunnel again. Hopefully they could finish this before sunrise. Otherwise Greg was going to start asking questions.