Glade and Kedryn followed Helmund out the door and into the predawn light. There was some evidence of people rousing in their homes, but the atmosphere felt far more quiet than it should for being in the middle of the city.
“Is it just me, or do the streets seem unusually quiet, even for this early in the morning?” Kedryn asked, his voice muffled under his mask.
“That’s because most everything in the city center is closed,” Helmund explained as he steered them toward the back side of the arena. “With everybody who would normally take advantage of the city center’s amenities heading off to fight Abyssal monsters, the businesses are taking an unexpected holiday.”
“That many people are going?” Kedryn asked, surprised.
“It takes more than just foot soldiers to win a battle,” Glade explained, though he kept his voice low. Conversations this early in the morning tended to carry. “You need cooks, logisticians, ferriers, medical support, smiths, and a great deal more. And that's for a typical military force, which they don’t have here in Asylum. I wouldn’t be surprised if each house was mobilizing their own varied support along with their fighters and mages.”
“Don’t forget about the independent businesses following behind, each trying to make an extra coin or two,” Helmund added.
“It almost sounds like the city is being left undefended,” Kedryn speculated.
“For all intents and purposes, it is,” Helmund said with a shrug. “Don’t get me wrong, every house is required to retain a token force in the city to keep up the appearance of law and order. But the ugly truth is, anyone with talent and experience is leaving to make a name for themselves and to earn experience. The dregs that are left behind won’t be enough to handle the criminals that come out of the shadows, or worse, they’ll prop up the criminal organizations. Either way, it's bad for local businesses.”
“Not just the businesses,” Glade said in a tight voice. History had proven time and time again that war at any level affected innocent bystanders, whether at home or abroad. There would likely be food shortages, an increase in localized crime, and that was just the beginning. Of course, all of that could be avoided if the houses actually began working together instead of trying to compete with one another.
They remained quiet the rest of their short walk, each contemplating the realities and challenges of the world. In minutes, they made their way to the far side of the arena, where they found a group of people waiting for them in front of a large sealed gate.
Most of the group was dressed much like Glade and Kedryn, each hidden behind masks and under dark cloaks. Helmund had prepared them for this. The houses kept those who entered the labyrinth a secret in their never ending game of politics and secrets. It wouldn’t do to have an up and coming member of the house be granted an additional advantage only for them to be assassinated, or worse, recruited by another power.
Glade supposed it made sense, but the fact they needed to keep these sorts of things secret from each other highlighted a much deeper rot. One that he really didn’t want to understand. Now that their business in the city was almost done, he couldn’t wait to be back on the road. Oddly enough, he missed Storms’ Rest and was looking forward to growing the land into a true home of safety and equality. Yes, it would be a challenge, but it was a challenge he was looking forward to tackling.
Turning his mind back to the present, Glade took in the others. The only ones not hiding behind masks were the two elvish guards standing watch in front of the gate and the two people they were there to rescue. Vlad looked much the same as he had back on Earth. Blond hair, a square jaw, an unusually thick neck, and a perpetual grin that was famous for antagonizing the gentlest of souls.
That was where the similarities ended. Vlad was now tall. Like really tall. Where he and his friend had been roughly the same height before, the Russian now towered over him. The idiot had to have grown at least a foot! And then there was the fact that Vlad had packed on at another 50 pounds of muscle.
Sparring with the man was going to be such a pain!
The other person not masked was the Banished Elf, Rem. Though, now that he was looking, the elf seemed to be wrapped in shadows, hiding most of his features. It didn’t escape his notice that both guards were pointedly glaring at Rem, their disgust on open display.
Good old bigotry appeared to be thriving in all sorts of places.
Activating his specialty, Glade slipped into his mana sight. The area exploded into light as the mana saturated environment lit up like a redneck’s yard at christmas. It was immediately apparent that there was simply far too much information for him to process, let alone understand. But after his short lesson the night before, he was fairly confident he could now at least recognize runes of power. The sealed gate was practically covered in them.
Then there were the slave collars on Vlad and Rem. He could tell these were higher end models than he had worked on in the past. The mana flows were far more streamlined, not to mention he could actually see the small rune work blazing with energy. But even with the added complexity, he quickly identified the thin strand that was the lynchpin of the whole system. It remained the same as the others. Now all he had to worry about was the timing.
More specifically, when he was going to notify Vlad he was there.
He would obviously need to use his telepathy to begin communicating with his friend, but that wasn’t the issue. Vlad was famous for his lack of subtlety. In fact, it would be better said that the man was like the bear he could turn himself into. Loud, obnoxious, always getting into trouble, and more likely than not to draw unwanted attention to himself no matter the circumstance.
If he were to begin talking telepathically to Vlad, he gave his friend 50/50 odds of pulling off everybody’s masks in an effort to find him.
No, this would have to be handled with precision.
“This is stupid,” Vlad grumbled, his Russian accent still as thick as ever. Much to Glade’s surprise, his friend was speaking elvish. Now where had he learned that? “What are these durakyi in their masks trying to hide? Their ugly noses?”
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“Quiet!” one of the guards hissed.
“How are they expected to fight?” Vlad continued, ignoring the guard entirely. “Masks limit vision. Do they know they need to see to fight?”
“I said quiet, half-breed!” the elven guard snarled, stomping up to Vlad in a threatening manner.
Without turning to look, Vlad reached out with his crazily long arm and pushed the guard away like he was nothing more than an annoying child. Granted, elves weren’t all that tall to begin with, but still. Did he have to antagonize the guy with sharp weapons?
All things considered, the push was almost gentle, but the act caught the elf completely off guard, resulting in him falling onto his backside.
“For the last time, Vladimir, we will not be fighting in the labyrinth,” Rem said in a surprisingly formal, albeit strained, tone of voice. “That isn’t what labyrinths are for. And could you please not antagonize the guards? I would very much like to get through at least one day without having to bail us out of trouble you started.”
Glade didn’t know this Rem person, but he was already starting to like him.
“Annoying, little men are best ignored,” Vlad said with a shrug.
Glade winced. That last part had also been spoken in elvish, and given the looks of growing anger on both guards’ faces, they had taken the insult personally.
As the one guard scrambled to his feet, the other drew his two short swords, taking a menacing step in Vlad’s direction.
“Halt!” a voice called from the darkness. “By the pact made with our Asylum allies, our champions are protected. Do not lay a finger on either of them while they are under our protection.”
Everyone turned to see a regal looking elf dressed in fine robes of sky blue silk approach. He had long, blonde hair and was being escorted by four other elvish guards, each carrying long spears and bearing a mirror finished bronze crest of a rising sun on their chain mail.
Vlad snorted, giving the two guards who still had their weapons drawn a dismissive look. The others wearing masks looked entirely uncomfortable with the situation, fidgeting and looking at one of their number as if seeking advice on how to proceed.
“Deputy Consul!” The guard who had been pushed to the ground spat out. “This half-breed assaulted me and has forfeited his right…”
“Guard Hu’Polsa,” the elf in blue robes interrupted. “You seem to have mistaken me for someone who cares about your failings. Let me assure you, I do not. I have been forced to arise at this abysmal hour to grant our champions and their retinue entrance into the labyrinth, and that is exactly what I shall do. So please, stand out of my way so I can finish this and return to my rooms.”
Everyone looked stunned at the Deputy’s comment. Glade had imagined that there might be some kind of ceremony or at the very least a small speech before their admittance, seeing as this was supposed to be some great honor that was rarely given. But the annoyed look on the Deputy Consul’s face was all he needed to understand exactly how the empire felt about their alliance with the greater houses of Asylum.
In short order, the gates were opened by the elf in blue robes who ran a thread of mana through a sequence of runes, which Glade quickly memorized. He didn’t know if he would need it in the future, but he believed it was better to err on the side of caution.
Once the gate was open, they were led down into a wide underground hallway whose stonework was done in meticulous geometric patterns that dazzled the senses.
“You are now entering one of the Adjudicator of Intellect’s personal labyrinths,” the Deputy Consul explained in a clipped voice. “You may thank the Emperor for his generosity in allowing you entrance. My name is Bei’Terros, but you may call me Deputy Consul if you absolutely must address me.”
No one spoke, simply following the stuck up politician further into the ground.
“It falls upon me to provide you with an explanation of what you will find within,” he went on to explain in a clipped voice. Judging by his tone, Glade didn’t think they would be getting all that much of an explanation. “There are eight gates within this labyrinth, each gate designed to assess some variation of Intelligence that the Adjudicator may, or may not, deign to test you in. I’ll warn you now, If you do not have the brand of Intellect you will only be allowed to pass the first gate. You can go no further. For those of you with the higher brand, you will be granted to opportunity to challenge the remaining gates. Each gate you successfully pass through has the potential to grant you additional power beyond what you likely deserve.
“If you are found unworthy to proceed at anytime, your progress will be stopped and you will return to the entrance of the first gate, which happens to be in front of us,” he said, indicating an arch that looked remarkably like a Japanese torii gate, except it was white instead of red. “Are there any questions?”
Bei’Terros looked at them imperiously, quietly declaring with a raised nose that only the insane would take him up on his offer.
“How far have you made it through?’ Vlad asked in an almost bored voice, because of course the man would antagonize anyone in authority. Though, if he were being honest, Glade was genuinely surprised his friend had held his tongue this long.
The Deputy Consul looked scathingly at the tall Russian.
“I have made it to the fifth gate,” he said, his voice oozing superiority..
“Five out of eight, not bad,” Vlad said looking around the hallway like the bored idiot he was. “Not great, but not bad. Though, five of eight Is considered failing in my homeland. But not bad for here.”
Glade had to force down a groan as veins in the elf’s forehead began bulging.
“Vladamir, could you please not antagonize the Deputy Consul?” Rem sighed. “I would really like to avoid losing a rebirth because of your arrogant mouth.”
There was a long pause, before Vlad muttered something in his native tongue under his breath. Glade knew a bit of Russian, and was just glad Mother wasn’t around. He would have ripped Vlad apart for the string of curses that spilled out of his mouth.
Kedryn raised his hand to speak.
“Are we free to leave the labyrinth once we have completed our trek through the gates?”
“Thanks to your friends here, the answer is no,” the Deputy Consul spat. “They may be under our protection, but that doesn’t mean we have to be nice either. I will return at sundown to let you out. You can all wait here until then.”
This time, there were several groans running through the crowd. Without waiting for any more questions, the elf left, heading back the way they had come.
Glade wanted nothing more than to smack Vlad upside the head, but even he knew how pointless that would be. Instead, he followed the others as they made their way through the first gate.
“Remember, we’re only going through the one gate,” Glade sent to Kedryn. “We’ll free Vlad and Rem after that and try to make our way out.”
“How do you plan on getting past the magically sealed exit?” Kedryn asked.
“I saw the sequence that prick of an elf used to open the gate. Hopefully, it will work on the way out,” Glade sent back. “We’ll improvise if we have to later…”
Glade’s thoughts were interrupted as he walked through the white gate, his surroundings blinking out of existence before being replaced with a bright, white void.
“Hello, Glade,” a familiar voice greeted him. “We have a few things to discuss.”