Duchess MantiumVit’s act of giving Burden Bridge to Sathteel is the only reason the rebellion was not quelled immediately. Armies from the eastern and southern fronts of Kreg’uune were diverted from their duties in an attempt to stamp down the insurrection in Cavaan, but with the route through Burden Bridged blocked by the mighty beast, much of the force was unable to travel there without significant detours.

This meant that at the beginning of the war, Cavaan only had to fend off an invading force at half strength. Questions such as where Sathteel came from and how such a deal was struck would not be answered for years.

- Excerpt from Cavaan and Kreg’uune, A Civil War, Volume One

“Focus for a moment.”

The words resounded through my mind and were shortly followed by a sharp pulse of magic that washed over me entirely. It was a familiar sensation, and one that woke me up instantly. Having my magic briefly torn from my control was a more irritating feeling than being healed. However, as I checked over myself, there weren’t any new runes for me to maintain.

That turned my attention outward. The first thing I noted was how little light there was, but that might’ve been because the darkness-emanating-and-reflectively-scaled dragon that had taken the role of my harbinger when I first died had surrounded me again. And, like the last time I met him like this, we were underwater. Though I was not walking on the surface of the air as I had been previously.

“You…” It was difficult to articulate exactly how angry I was at him. In part because I was just that angry, and in part thanks to how I was struggling to remember why I was furious. “You… lied to me.”

One of its eyes shifted to observe me for a moment, before returning to something in the distance. “I am not the kind to deceive. I merely follow certain rules.”

I scoffed. “Oh yeah? What rules?”

“My own.”

“Like ‘I don’t repeat myself. Fucking ever’? That’s a stupid rule!”

“It is necessary.”

“It’s stupid and you are too.” I glanced around at where its body likely was. When had I started mouthing off to things more powerful than me? Actually, that was a stupid question. I was raised in Veliki where I did that all the time, only becoming scared after nearly dying to the Beithir. That fear I must have forgotten the moment I completed Rezan.

Or maybe it was this dream making me act in ways I normally did not.

“You are recovering, not dreaming.” Serfle told me. I wasn’t changing that name now I knew he wasn’t actually a serpent. He was a serpent with wings and legs for all I cared. For all his size, he deserved to be called that name. “How disparaging.”

“I told you to stop reading my thoughts.” I stated.

“And you were met with an adequate counterargument.” Serfle responded, managing to not repeat himself.

“You forgot to tell me how.” I reminded him.

“Simply affect All only when you intend to.”

Well that didn’t fucking explain anything.

“From your perspective.” Serfle’s eye glinted, though it was difficult to tell with how it wasn’t meeting mine.

“Alright, why?” I demanded. “Why are we meeting again? Why did I see you when Sathteel found me? What purpose does this meeting have? You said you wouldn’t Choose me, yet you are taking an active role in my quest.”

“I did not say that I would never assist you.” Serfle’s head and neck hadn’t moved this entire time. The only way to guess at its thoughts were through the twitches of its eyes, of which I could only see one, and it barely shifted at the best of times. That eye now shifted to stare at me. “Careless actions have repercussions, as you are already familiar. I can afford to be reckless when you are involved, as we are already acquainted.” It paused. “And I am… embarrassed by the actions of Sathteel.”

“You’re that fucking thing’s father?” I demanded.

It paused again. “Several generations removed, it is true.”

“Fucking great.” I had somehow attracted the attention of a dragon patriarch, likely millenia old. It seemed to favour me, but only in the strangest of ways. One of which being how it only ever appeared in post mortem or dreams! Actually, I knew this thing’s name, didn’t I? Ogromenkit was the progenitor of dragonkind.

“I am not the platinum dragon, nor the progenitor you know. You may appreciate the knowledge that you were the one to display the most resistance to the Pestilence of Swords that night.” Serfle continued. “I found that fact entertaining, and so we are conversing now.”

“Wait. That night?” I repeated. “How long has it been?”

“Now is morning.” It informed me, which didn’t actually answer my question. “Tell me what inspired you to half blind my son.”

“He talked too much.”

Serfle blinked. Or winked. I couldn’t tell with access to only one eye. “Is there nothing else you might say about him?”

“What do you want me to say? He’s a dragon that did dragon things, including sniffing out a princess.” Serfle let out a low hum as a tangential thought occurred to me and made it out my mouth before I could stop myself. “Why do dragons keep stealing princesses anyway?”

“They enjoy taking the hopes and dreams of others. To say nothing of the panic they revel in when a country’s heir is suddenly and violently removed from what you fleshy things call life.”

That… kind of made sense. Exce-

“I never speak ambiguously.”

Sure.

“Unless I intend to.”

Ha ha, get out of my head.

Serfle snorted, sending a wave rippling through the surface above. It was difficult to keep track of this conversation when it kept picking errant thoughts from my mind and responding to them. I was certain there were already at least three things I wanted to demand of this thing that had been lost thanks to those interruptions.

So… what next? I had fallen into the river, getting separated from Jevi and Weldon, as well as I guess Attler, and time had passed. Time enough for Serfle to be deliberately ambiguous about it at the very least. Given its eccentricity, that could be days.

And hadn’t Sathteel been breathing fire at me before I lost consciousness? There was no way it would’ve assumed that was enough if I managed to successfully wound the damned thing.

“There is a small gathering of buildings on the eastern bank of Lake Luzi.” Serfle intruded on my thoughts. Quite rudely at that.

“Stop right there, Serfy.” Its eyes pulsed ever so slightly red at the name. “You interrupted me. Why am I not in pieces inside the stomach of a grey dragon right now?”

“I decided to not allow my meetings with the one conversation partner I have to be cut short before its time.” Serfle told me haughtily. “Initially, I intended to grant a degree of exposition for your next destination during this conversation, but I have been slighted. You will have to discover it yourself now. Considering your temperament, this will cause you no small degree of irritation.”

“Or.” I pointed out. “You could stop being a mysterious and infuriating dick, and tell me anyway.”

Its eye glowed suddenly, and I had to reaffirm my stance on backtalking to more powerful creatures.

“Lake Luzi is upstream of Burden Bridge anyway.” I continued with a stiff back. It was hard to pull off when my feet weren’t touching anything. “There’s no way I’m getting there anytime soon. As far as I can tell, your idiot son has ruined my travel plans because I’ll most likely have to cross the damn river again. It will have taken me west and I want to go east.”

“Mortals and their assumptions.” Serfle shifted its head to look up. “Observe, Audacious Name of Amber.”

I followed its gaze and watched the surface of the water. It wasn’t easy to make out, but I could see the sky and clouds above that. They were moving ever so slightly, but it was strange. Going by the refractions in the surface above, it seemed as though we were travelling upstream at considerable speed. Speed enough to put the sailing speed of the Busty Butler to shame.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

That… would explain why the clouds were moving so strangely actually. Then how was I moving with Serfle if it wasn’t touching me? Reaching out answered that question, there was a sphere of magic surrounding me, dense to the point of being solid. No new glyphs, unfortunately.

“I anticipate our next encounter, Name of Amber.” Serfle informed me as the magic began to unravel. More at the top than at the bottom.

“Don’t you do it you damned reflection.” I ordered moments before Serfle pulled some kind of magical trick and sent me soaring up past the surface. It didn’t do it gently, and I ended up spending several seconds in the air. Long enough to let loose some imaginative curses before I began to fall.

As Serfle had informed me, there were a number of buildings clustered around. But he forgot to mention how extravagant and ostentatious those buildings were. They were almost up to the standard of houses in Veliki, though these ones had the advantage of having more space dedicated to each building.

That was all I saw before I fell back down and my thoughts were cut off by the cold water below.

… Again.

\V/

A cold sensation on my wrist startled me to full consciousness. I tried to move, but my right arm caught on something and my attempt to push whatever it was away failed miserably. After taking a moment to take in my surroundings, I put my head back on the pillow below and closed my eyes.

The room I woke up in was small and cold. The bed hard and uncomfortable. The walls were made of stone, and the only light came from flickering orange torches through the bars in the door. The exact and unchanging shade of the fire, as well as the ease with which I had been able to glance at it gave me the impression that it was an everlasting flame. A lowly tiered, long lasting enchantment that had seen much use in my hometown.

So I was in a cell. An expensive cell going by the smooth surface of the wall despite it being built from bricks, along with the everlasting flame. As for the cold thing on my wrist, it was a manacle. I of course began to pull my magic back and transfer it to the manacle the instant I closed my eyes.

Maybe one day my adversaries would realise this was a poor trick to use against me. Regardless, until then I would abuse it with impunity.

I spent a few seconds channeling magic to my listening glyphs, which had all but become permanent fixtures by now, but didn’t hear anyone moving outside. I did hear a fair amount of breathing, which I had previously thought beyond the scope of this particular trick, but it seemed no one had been alerted to my awakening. With that small comfort, I continued meditating on rezan so I might actually have a method of defending myself should the need arise.

One curious thing I noted as I pulled my magic back was where it had come from. When I had fallen from the bridge, my magic was in my dagger, which had just pierced Sathteel’s eye. I had expected my magic to return from however far away Burden Bridge was, but instead it came from somewhere above me. Not directly above, but somewhere relatively nearby and only a floor or two up.

Something to think on when I figured out what was going on. Until then I would meditate, then kick up a fuss to let whoever was keeping me here that I was awake. If they didn’t release me quickly enough, I’d release myself.

My putting the magic of rezan into a set of manacles for a second time happened without issue. A tug without true intent told me that I would be able to tear the manacle from the post the other end was attached to with one or two strong pulls. Only then did I sit up. I felt fine, but that didn’t extend to how I looked. Thankfully, I was wearing the clothes I had been wearing in Burden Bridge, though I was displeased to note that I had been laid down on top of any covers.

Said covers were actually singular, and the thin sheet didn’t seem that capable of holding in warmth anyway. So I didn’t add it to the list of petty vendettas. It wasn’t worth it.

I was aching quite badly as well. This time from actual damage rather than recovery from death. I put the pain on par with one of Brynn’s training sessions, at about the halfway point to where he decided I was in enough pain and gave me a break. It made sense, what with how I had been trampled before falling into water to escape a grey dragon.

With nothing else to do, I cleared my throat and shouted, “Hey! Is anyone out there!”

Snapping magic through my listening glyph, I was able to hear two people flinch from nearby. Though they quickly calmed themselves and started whispering to each other. Unfortunately, my glyphs still weren’t at the quality Serfle’s originals had been, so I only picked out a few disparate words from the exchange.

“...o is…”

“...attack.”

“...usual… ...longer?”

“...I’ll… ...voy Winters.”

Then there was the sound of one armoured man or woman walking away. No doubt he was on his way to retrieve the named Envoy.

I sighed. The Vitorian Envoy was something I’d hoped to keep at arm’s length for longer, but I had little doubt they wanted answers about Jevi. Where she was, where she was going, how her condition was, so on and so forth. Regarding all of those questions, I had fuck all answers. This was not a meeting I was looking forward to.

Still, there was nothing more for me to do. I kept an ear out, but nothing changed until two armoured people returned. And a soft keening sound that arrived with them.

It was either mind magic, or the new person was Chosen. I retracted the magic in my glyphs so that I’d seem more normal.

“Open the door.” Someone said clearly, though the sound was distorted coming through the door. Was there an enchantment on the door that muffled sound? Had I overpowered it without thinking? Well…

I guess I just impressed myself.

The door opened by sliding away from me, and then to the side. The first time I’d seen a sliding door since leaving Veliki. A dark figure was revealed on the other side, but the fact that my only light source was on the other side of him meant I couldn’t make out anything other than a silhouette. An armed and armoured silhouette, but nothing more.

We stared at each other for a few moments. It was all very dramatic.

I got fed up first. “If you stare any longer I’ll have to assume you have bad intentions, Mister Winters.”

“More convincing than I expected. I’ll have one of my guards come in and keep an eye on me. That way you can be certain I won’t act on any… bad intentions.”

His voice was smooth yet deep, bassy without being scratchy, and was slow and measured. A single word occurred to me: chocolate. That was how this guy sounded. Though there was something darker to his voice, like every word promised that they were the good twin, and at any moment they could retreat and let their big bad brother take their place.

So two words actually occurred to me: dark chocolate. That made me frown. I didn’t like dark chocolate.

“Having two big men in the cell of a trapped woman is hardly better.” I argued.

“It is, in this case.” Winters promised, stepping into the room and gesturing the guards to come in after him. I still couldn’t make out anything though. That sounds rose and fell with his shifting attention, giving me a brief reprieve until he looked back. “For you and for me.”

I crossed my arms, careful to fumble at the simple motion thanks to the manacle. Letting them know I was technically armed was not something I wanted to do. “But the two of you could be bad people working together.”

He chuckled, a hollow and empty sound I’d heard many times before. “We are bad people working together, but Peyton here has your key.” The indicated guard moved past Winters and crouched at where my manacle was fixed to the bedpost.

“Arm.” He said, holding out a hand. I huffed and let him take my unrestrained hand. At least this meant I wasn’t going to be immediately deprived of my only form of self defence. Less than a minute later my magic manacles were bound to both my wrists, and I was stopping myself from acting on the urge to strangle the guard or Winters with the chain.

“Stand and follow me.” Winters told me. “The complex is under my jurisdiction, so you obey my orders, Amber. Do not ask questions.”

I stood, patting my pockets. Sure enough, my badge was warm against my leg. That made me frown. Hadn’t these guys searched me? I didn’t disobey right away, and so fell into step with Winters, who I still couldn’t make out any features of. Step quickly became formation as the two guards began walking side by side behind me, though I ruined that by hurrying up to walk next to Winters.

All let me act differently when things concerned the Vitorian Envoy, as if I was a seamless part of their organisation. The push and pull associated with that wasn’t as strong as it had been in the past, but was still there.

I wouldn’t ask questions, but that just meant I couldn’t do that thing where I tilted my voice up at the end of a sentence.

“I want my weapons back.” I stated, drawing a short glare from Winters. “I want to know where I am. I want to know who had the audacity to lock me up.”

“What did I say about asking questions?” Winters’ words glided into my ears with a low growl.

“Oh, sorry. You must have mispronounced ‘no talking.’”

“That was not a roundabout way to request leading statements.”

“Then you shouldn’t have said it in such a roundabout way.”

Winters stopped, causing everyone else to stop, with me halting last. We’d been walking down a long hallway, and had almost reached the end, though the shitty lighting still meant I couldn’t make out much of Winters. That being said, I did notice the dark glint where his eyes would be as I turned to face him.

“Do you enjoy testing me?”

“Yes.” I said instantly. “And I don’t see how it’s fair that you get to ask questions while I can’t.”

“I could snap my fingers and have you killed easily. Here or elsewhere. Even in the wilderness it would not matter.”

“If we’re doing petty threats, then I’ll hope you forgive this one question.” I stared at where the glint had been and tried to give of my own. “What makes you think I’m not dangerous?”

“You are exhausted, battered, and restrained.” Winters riposted without hesitation.

“Yes.” I grinned, and held up my bound hands. “With manacles.”

The guards reacted strongly to that, with the one named Peyton all but drawing his sword before he got over his flinch. Winters stared me down, then lost the contest when he glanced at his men. Then we were back on the march without another word. I was quite unceremoniously pushed forward, which just made my badge prompt me to laugh.

I was running magic through my listening glyph again, which allowed me to hear Winters’ jaw clenching, and also reduced the tone that kept sounding around him. The rest of the walk passed with me exuding joy just short of skipping, and we eventually reached another expensively made room that reminded me of the cell I woke up in. Only instead of a bed, this room had a table with two chairs.

Peyton shoved me into one chair, which I loudly protested. Then he unlocked one of my arms, only to thread the manacle through a fixed metal loop and lock me again. I was now attached to the table.

“That doesn’t make you any more safe.” I told the guard as he walked out the door, now with a stiff back at my words. A few seconds later that door slid shut in the reverse of how my cell door opened, and it was only Arving and myself in the room.

This one was actually lit by everlasting flames in each corner, so I could make out the features of Winters properly. He was a half-elf, much like Jvina had been. Unlike Jvina, he had faintly silvered skin instead of copper and black hair instead of brown, though his eyes were a similar bronze sheen to the elf I’d kissed to her final sleep.

“Now we can begin.” Winters said with a sigh. He placed three objects on the table in front of him. The first was a dull stone orb, but one I could feel magic emanating from. The second was a scroll that remained rolled up for the time being. Finally, he placed a familiar, but slightly different object on the table before steepling his hands and observing me silently.

“Since we’ve stopped, I’ll assume I can ask questions again.” I said when I got tired of being watched, which wasn’t that long.

“That would be your prerogative.” Winters riposted.

“Then let me see if you are genuine.” I nodded to the badge of the Vitorian Envoy he was displaying. “The right hand runs silver.”

Winters frowned. “And the left hand runs red.”

“The softest executioner.” My eyes narrowed by the slightest margin at the new, third variation of the poem. Another one. How many are there?

“And the hidden maker of dead.” Winters leaned back, briefly pushing his chair onto two legs with one hand on the table. “This puts me in a bind.” The chair legs slammed back down, though they couldn’t have been more than a few centimetres up. “Where is your badge?”

“In a place I can’t reach right now.” I responded cooly. “Much like my weapons, Winters.”

The temperature of the room suddenly dropped as Winters leaned forward. “Where is it?”

I felt the magic slam into my ears and only partially take hold. It made me grin. “It’s in my pocket.” I rattled the chain of the manacles through the hoop, emphasising how I could only reach things on the table.

“So we are equal ranks.” Winters mused. “Then this situation is somewhat awkward. Envoy Amber, I accuse you of treason.”

My grin fell. I just sighed.

\V/