Virgil kept a wary eye out over the waypoint. Ever since the Chaos Lord came in with the parley cloak, no other Wyldling had appeared near them. They were still in the area, with Virgil catching a glimpse, but they flitted in and out of his maximum visual range which was troubling in itself. The Chaos Lord slowly approached them, hands held out to the side.
“What now?” Balliol muttered. Virgil could see his hands flex and tighten.
“We honour the parley flag,” Virgil said. “Besides, we could always use the time to rest.”
“And who will negotiate for us?”
“Sarra is our nominal leader but I’d like to hear what the Chaos Lord has to say,” Virgil shrugged. “Sarra?”
The grey-haired woman had been staring fixedly at the Chaos Lord, absently nibbling her bottom lip.
“Sarra.”
“What?”
“You and I will meet her in parley?”
“Balliol too?”
“She doesn’t have a backup. It could be seen as hostile if more than two on our side appear.”
Sarra’s frown deepened. “I’m not that comfortable without having a barrier specialist.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle that aspect if necessary.” Virgil patted his hip where he had a pistol holstered. The weapon threw out solid shells propelled by a combination of Virgil’s Animus and compressed air. It didn’t have much of a range but was incredibly useful in close quarters combat and his Facets worked well with it.
“I’ll rely on you then,” Sarra nodded. “Keep a close watch please,” she said to Balliol and Amiri.
Sarra limped to the ladder and slid down the sides rather than taking each step one at a time. Virgil heard her grunt when she landed at the bottom but he supposed there was less pain that way. He slid down, too, when he saw it was clear.
Craig was in the living area near the barricaded door. He helped move the boulders and huge blocks of stone away from their only ground-level entrance. Sarra and Virgil slipped out as soon as there was room. Virgil left his Plasma Caster though he did make a show of having the pistol on his hip.
The Chaos Lord was still longstrides away though Virgil could tell that they had been spotted. The two of them moved a couple of hundred paces away and waited. The grey-skinned creature leisurely strode up to them.
They waited on the cobblestone road that slowly wended its way down the hill. The winds blew dust and ashes, stirring Virgil’s loose hair. Sarra had hers in a tight bun, but some of her forelocks were too short to gather up and they whipped at her face. It didn’t interrupt her careful study of the approaching Chaos Lord.
Virgil stared at a Hunter at the edge of his vision. Its iridescent scales were in camouflage mode but his visual acuity was enough to distinguish the edge between visual camouflage and the actual background. There was a group of swarmlings bristling along another location, as well as a couple of visible Wanderers. None of them stepped closer to the tower though they also kept a close watch on their liege.
The Chaos Lord finally arrived within shouting distance. She paused there, waiting for their acknowledgement.
“Who goes there?” Sarra called out.
“You address She Who Whispers in the Light. Telurian Marchioness.”
A shiver of fear ran down Virgil’s spine. A Marchioness. She had been toying with them the entire time. She could have killed them all with a snap of her fingers. Why?
Sarra didn’t react beyond a cold nod. “I am Sarra Fortuna Gorlyn, Inquisitor of the Eternal Empire of the Righteous Order. Beside me is Virgil Soren Davar, Knight-Captain of the Empire.
The three of them gave a short bow of greeting, then Whisperer approached. There was no need to shout their purpose for the entire Tidelands to hear.
“Well met,” Whisperer greeted, “and well fought.” She was within a few paces from them now. She Who Whispers in the Light wore little beneath the cloak, a ratty blouse with more holes than cloth and a short skirt that had a threadbare hem that didn’t even reach her knees. A curious choice for clothing that was essentially formed along with her body. Unless the clothes were real rather than chaos-formed. Dark horns adorned her head, curling around her temples, and Whisperer’s eyes glowed red, quite unlike the blue of the usual Wylding.
Sarra fidgeted while their opponent remained silent. Whisperer still had that smirk on her face while she eyed both of them from head to toe. Her gaze lingered on Sarra’s wounded leg and her smirk grew wider. Sarra noticed, though her only reaction was to pointedly bring her injured leg forward.
“What is your purpose?” Virgil couldn’t help but say, tired of the games both women tried to play.
“An accord,” Whisperer said easily.
“And the terms?”
“Surely you seek salvation? Well, let us not speak terms out in the open,” she paused expectantly.
“Then we invite you to our shelter,” Sarra said smoothly.
“Very well, I shall adhere to the code of hospitality.”
Virgil and Sarra turned on their heels, though tension didn’t leave his back until they were through the door. Whisperer followed several paces behind.
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Craig was waiting for them and he looked at their visitor warily. As soon as everyone was inside, Craig and Virgil closed up the entrance, even though it made Virgil feel that they were sheep with a wolf locked up in the pen.
Whisperer eyed the makeshift table and chairs then with an easy motion, sat down at one end of the table. Sarra sat at the other end while Virgil sat beside her. Craig walked up behind Sarra and leaned against the wall. Amiri remained on the roof while Balliol climbed down the ladder and waited beside Craig.
When it was clear that neither men would introduce themselves, Whispered waved a hand causing a multi-hued barrier to form around the table. Balliol and Craig jumped up, outraged, but Virgil ducked out of the barrier and gave a placating gesture before returning to his seat.
“I will not have my words overheard by my…associates.” Whisperer started, her face losing her ever-present smirk.
“What do you want?” Sarra repeated though Virgil could feel that she was trembling.
“I offer you salvation from the trap you put yourselves in, as well as deliverance back to your plane. None of mine will harm you, and I will guide your way home.”
Virgil coughed. “Generous terms, but at what cost?” he observed drily.
“You have little choice in the matter,” Whisperer continued. “The Telurian court has moved to these shores and you cannot hope to escape cleanly without help.”
“Again, at what cost?” Sarra pressed. “While I don’t entirely agree with what you’ve said, we’re not afraid to fight.”
Instead of frowning, Whisperer gave them a smile. It felt like a sincere smile to Virgil, quite unlike the condescending smirk she had earlier. “I like your aplomb. Then, here are my terms.”
Whisperer shifted in her seat. The female Chaos Lord was taller than even Virgil, though much more slender. Her gravitas pressed down on them as she spoke words of power, and of binding.
“I need you to kill someone.”
-----
Balliol gritted his teeth when the barrier appeared and even though Virgil came out to reassure them, he didn’t relax in the slightest.
His reflexes were honed to a hair-trigger, ready to throw up a hardened air shield at the slightest notice or even at the merest hunch. It had saved his and his team’s life several times in the past and it would continue to serve him well. His instincts now screamed at him that the woman the other two were talking to was bad news.
Honestly, the only thing he wanted to do right now was to get back home to his wife and kids. Well, he’d also settle for the secrets to advance his Animus strength beyond the Knight tier. Evolving his Facet was one of the necessary steps and advancing and it was different for everyone.
While the path from Novice, Apprentice, Journeyman, and finally Knight was relatively smooth for him, advancing beyond was a threshold that only a handful could cross. Following one’s Heritage and using a copious amount of resources could practically guarantee advancement to Journeyman, and the next step to Knight was also relatively easy; becoming a Knight-Captain involved a deeper insight and enlightenment. For some, it was easy, while for others, like Balliol and the other two, it wasn’t.
Battle, danger, and life-threatening situations were usually the forge that could create Knight-Captains but after decades in the Legion facing just that, the three of them had grown tired. His life in Faron’s Crossing had been a well-deserved retirement and his duties there were things he did so that he didn’t grow bored out of his mind.
Answering the call for a mission in the Tidelands had been nothing more than a break in the monotony for Balliol and, well, it looked like he had bitten off more than he could chew. He wasn’t quite sure he liked or hated the fact.
He was sure that if he survived then he would view this experience with fondness.
‘Unless I lose a limb or someone else does,’ he thought idly.
“They’ve been there a while,” Craig muttered.
“Yeah,” Balliol whispered back. They had been staring at the barrier for more than an hour already. They could only see silhouettes through the colours and mostly the three of them sat and shifted in their seats. Sometimes Virgil or Sarra gesticulated but the Chaos Lord was eerily still.
“I’m hungry,” Craig muttered.
“Go make lunch then.”
Craig shrugged and headed to the kitchenette. Balliol kept watch but after another couple of hours, he yawned and found a seat. Craig offered him some ration porridge in a bowl which he ate stoically.
“Everything alright down there?” Amiri’s annoyingly happy voice called out from the roof. “I’m hungry!”
“Coming up,” Craig called back.
“They aren’t killing each other!” Balliol shouted.
“Oh good!”
The barrier disappeared as abruptly as it came to existence. Balliol jumped up to his feet and walked up to Virgil and Sarra.
The Chaos Lord stood up and grinned. “An Accord has been struck. I will await your presence at the edge of the waypoint after the Full Moon.”
“We will be there,” Sarra replied.
“Farewell.”
The woman walked up to the barricade, shoved the boulders with a single hand and let herself out.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t the reason we’re waiting here was for the Full Moon to set us free?” Balliol said mildly.
“It wouldn’t have worked,” Virgil said. “She Who Whispers in the Light is a Telurian Marchioness.”
“Ah.” Balliol nodded. “So what is the accord?”
“Let us wait for Craig and Amiri. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” Sarra turned to Virgil. “If you would, Virgil?”
The other man nodded and climbed the ladder quickly and returned just as fast with the other two.
“So?’
“We were offered a deal. We negotiated, and we accepted,” Sarra said simply. “Her initial terms were not something we could accomplish, so she asked us to delve into a wild plane. There is something she needs from there and we are to recover it.”
“And what do we get in return?”
“Secrets,” Virgil sighed, “and safe passage back.”
“What secrets are worth that much?” Amiri growled. “We could have lasted long enough, you know!”
“There’s more than one Chaos Lord nearby and she wasn’t the Will of the Wave,” Virgil said drily. “Us keeping her here in the Tidelands is a victory in my books.”
“She offered the secrets to advancing our Anima strength.”
A moment of stunned silence and then all three of them blurted out words over each other resulting in none of them getting their point across.
“Ahem,” Balliol coughed. “How do we know it is authentic?”
Virgil shook his head. “We don’t. It is merely a prize to sweeten the deal. The real need we have is to be able to return home. We’re in over our heads here.”
“Right,” Balliol sighed.
“Huh, not to change the subject, but we have to wait beyond the Full Moon right?” Craig said. When Virgil and Sarra nodded, he continued. “Ancestors. You do know that we could be declared legally dead back home right?”
Balliol shuddered, as did everyone else except for Sarra who had no children.
“Well, as long as we get back in the end. All’s well that ends well.”
They could only hope that they would return alive. Balliol had a feeling that it was an even coin toss on their chances for survival. Well, better than certain death anyway.