Morning sunlight beamed through the ice sheet, waking the company [https://img.wattpad.com/8406b87641b065d51b98855a3e2e713cbe8aeafa/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f336631524172656b71796f4f2d413d3d2d3338373833343537372e313461646334623530616631353038643738393033393037313533392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
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Pale sunlight beamed through the ice sheet, waking the company.
"How late is it?" asked Petra, rising.
"Not awful late, I assume," said Cassius, peering through the ice, "the sun's barely up."
Aidan stood and stretched, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling, "Let's get going, then. We don't need to get caught in another one of those squalls."
He looked over to Syra, who was the last to rouse. "After you," he said, motioning to the ice sheet.
She rose on stiff muscles and squeezed through them to the entrance, pressing her hands against to the ice. Again she channeled mana, but this time it was hot and searing. The ice steamed and thinned, leaking trickles of water down its face. She managed to melt a hole the size of her head before she stopped for breath.
"What's wrong?" asked Cassius, "Are you still drained, even after the fae pool?"
She shook her head and laughed at herself, "No. I'm just...not that good at flameweaving."
"Why am I not surprised?" asked Petra.
"I don't see you helping," Syra said.
"Then move," Petra said, pushing Syra away from the ice.
Petra analyzed the wall for a moment. It was thin, but still sturdy, except around the hole Syra had made.
"You get that side," she said, looking to Cassius and taking her scabbard from her belt.
Cassius did the same and they aimed the hilts at the thinner portion.
"Now!" Petra commanded and they struck the ice, shattering its center enough for them to kick away a hole large enough to crawl through.
"You're welcome," Petra said to Syra as she exited the cave.
From outside the cave, the landscape now resembled the head of a balding man with bad dandruff. The green of new leaves now hid by a thin white covering. The sun was above horizon and the clouds had moved on to the foothills, but the chill still lingered.
"I think the road was this way," said Aidan, taking the lead.
Around one bend and up another, the walls of the Talian city peeked from over the next turn.
"Almost there," said Aidan, calling the others to pick up the pace. As he followed the road around a curve, he heard a pat pat of paws accompanied by panting, and was soon chest to snout with a rather large, white canine. One look at its eyes and Aidan was quick to jump back and draw his sword.
"Get back!" he yelled to the others, halting them, "It found us again!"
"Well, of course it did!" A man's voice came from around the corner followed by a high whistle. The canine instantly sat, its ears perked and tail swishing. There was the scuffle of footsteps and soon two Talian men appeared from where the creature had come. "She's a vangora, after all."
"Vangora? As in a cloud fox?" Syra asked, staring at the animal before her that was just as much lean muscle as it was fluff. She had seen paintings of them in her biogeography text, but it was the wooden chestplate attached to its harness that caught her eye. Dark wood—black hemlock, most likely—and covered in intricate etchings of Erdrumic runes.
It's just like Baba's cart. But this one's fully realized.
"She's...she's a grimlock."
At this both she and Aidan froze, eyes locked on the large fox whose outline wavered just slightly.
"Aye, she is." The man met their staring with stern eyes, patting the earthly specter on its head. "She's my partner. And has been for decades."
"I didn't think animancy was allowed in Mirna," said Aidan.
"Only under certain circumstances. The weather up here can be quite temperamental, but the vangora are experts at hunting in the worst of it. Renei here is our best at guiding lost travelers, so we decided to...keep her on staff for a while. At least until I can join her."
"Alright," said Aidan, sword held steady, "so if she's your watch dog, who are you? You don't seem like an animancer to me."
"She's not a dog. But we were sent to fetch you. I'm Kaleem, and this is Shaleu. We're King Tahlu's scouts and frankly, I thought you'd be more grateful."
"We are!" said Cassius, tapping Aidan's arm for him to sheath his sword, "Just a bit...cautious, is all."
Kaleem nodded, "I can understand that." He turned and flashed the Mirnan crest that adorned his blue cape, "And that's why we're here, to escort you to King Tahlu. He is expecting you."
***
The towering gates opened with a wave of the Kaleem's hand and he led them into the wide, brick streets that spider-webbed up and down the mountainside.
"Oh, my," Cassius said at the sight in front of them, causing Kaleem to laugh.
"There's an overlook right over there if you'd like a better peek," he said and pointed to a platform jutting from the side of the terrace.
There was nothing modest about Mirna. Even the platform railing was of ornate design. Wide, arching terraces covered the mountainside in buildings, ponds, and gardens. There was even an aqueduct that curved back and forth between the buildings. The buildings themselves were spacious and of multiple stories, all trimmed with brick, tile, and ironwork in hues of cream and jewel tones. Up and down the slope, large arched windows glinted in the light, making the mountainside sparkle like ripples on water. One thing made Syra ponder, though.
"There's no snow," she said, looking up at Kaleem with questioning brows. "How is that possible?"
He smiled and pointed up at the tip top of the watchtower, where two sentries manned a metal spire with a deep green crystal encased inside.
"When foul weather comes—which it often does—those crystals," he pointed to the line of towers circling Mirna's perimeter, "create a barrier above the city. Most of the time it just melts snow for our aqueduct, but it's been known to hold up even against dragonfire."
"Is that so?" Aidan turned a curious brow to the guard.
"I know, I know, crazy right? You all are too young to remember, but the Tal also had their troubles with dragons in the past—fighting over territory and whatnot. But after Dorrak we agreed to keep our borders, with the dragons expanding north instead of south. Neither one of us wanted to see that much death again." He chuckled, "They've turned out to be pretty quiet neighbors, actually. Just a bunch of hermits keeping to their own."
"Right," Petra gave Aidan a side-eye, "who could've ever imagined that."
"So, Kaleem, about those spires. You wouldn't happen to have their blueprints, would you?" Aidan asked, a tad too eager in Petra's opinion.
"Why? Are your arrows not good enough?"
Kaleem patted them both on the back with a heart laugh, "Well, I ceratinly can't blame you for wanting to be prepared. And, as it turns out, you'll be meeting one of the mages who helped build them. She's a bit of a bookworm, so I'm sure she'll give you an earful if you ask. Until then, Tahlu's manor is this way."
Down the streets and up ramps and stairs they went, earning curious looks from the locals in their flowy, glittering garbs.
We must look so dingy to them, Syra thought, a tad envious of their elegant drapings and headdresses. Though, she laughed at Petra who fought to not stare at all of their shiny adornments.
"And here we are!" said Kaleem when they stopped at gated fence. He flashed his seal and the two guards allowed them inside.
To Syra's surprise, the King's manor was quaint compared to Rogan's castle. Though it had its own terrace and garden, the building itself was of humble size with only three stories, and no more fineries than any other Talian manor.
"Why is it so small?" Petra asked.
"Don't be rude," Cassius hushed her.
A full laugh came from around the side of the manor, "Because I like it better that way."
A handsome Tal of lithe build, high cheekbones and dark eyes approached them with a warm grin. His fair locks were tied at the shoulder, and his blue robe was of similar fashion to Syra's cloak. Kaleem bowed and Syra assumed this was the Tahlu he kept speaking of.
"The King's quarters used to be down there," he said, pointing to a large, comely building littered with towers and windows, "but we decided to downsize a bit and moved it here. We had too few people for so many rooms, anyway."
"What is it now?" Aidan asked. To leave a building of that size empty would be a horrid waste of space.
"A library," he said with pride, "Or an academy, as you humans call it."
"It's even bigger than ours," said Syra, starstruck.
Tahlu laughed and nodded, "Yes, I can't deny we take pride in our scholars. Our watchtowers were built by them, after all. Saved us from drought, blizzards—"
"Dragonfire," Kaleem added.
"That, too, once upon a time. This city owed—and continues to owe—them a debt." He caught himself in thought, "But I beg your pardon, you've just arrived from Kor Lahru, haven't you? I am King Tahlu, as I'm sure Kaleem here has already mentioned. Come on in," Tahlu headed for the front door, "we have a breakfast ready for you."
The siblings nearly bounded up the steps, but Aidan stood firm.
"Where's the shard?" Aidan asked, unmoving and causing Tahlu to stop mid-step.
"You can't just ask him that!" Syra hushed to Aidan.
"Of course I can. He has a ring, he should know where it is." Aidan pointed to the silver band on Tahlu's finger.
"But—"
"It's alright," said Tahlu, "that is why you're here in the first place."
"With all due respect, sir," said Aidan, "we don't need breakfast."
"Speak for yourself, worm." Petra barked from the stairs, but went ignored.
"What we need is that shard. There are three more left and we don't even know if Marrak has found them already."
"He hasn't," said Tahlu. "I would have heard about it, otherwise."
"Well, that's good to know," said Petra, "I'd hate to be wasting my time."
"The shard is safe, currently," Tahlu said, turning to Aidan and the others, "And I will take you there today, if you wish. But at least sit for a meal. As Mirna's representative, I cannot have you thinking us inhospitable."
"We have no reason to," Syra said, joining Tahlu on the landing. "Plus, my siblings and I never turn down food."
Tahlu chuckled with a light sigh, "I am glad to hear you say that. Otherwise, I'd have wasted my preparations."
The party followed Tahlu into the manor—which was still quite lavish despite its exterior—and was quickly met by a Tal of dark brow and stern face. His neatly cut hair barely brushed his ears and his uniform spared no wrinkle.
"Maybe I take your bags?" he asked, in a tone that was polite, but forced.
"Yes, thank you," Syra said, handing him her pack to be hung in the foyer.
"No thanks," said Petra.
"Same," said Aidan, both stepping into the dining area.
"Don't mind them," Cassius said. "They're just being cautious."
"Noted," said the Tal, hanging up Cassius' belongings next to Syra's.
"This here, is Wyn," said Tahlu, patting the Tal on the shoulder, "He's my Second, and though he seems cold, he's really quite the caretaker."
"Pleasure," said Cassius before joining Petra and Aidan at the long table.
"And you must be Syra," he said, as she handed over her cloak to be hung, as well.
"Yes, but how did you know? Oh, lord, do I smell?" She took a few sniffs about herself in a fret.
"No, no!" Talhu said, laughing. "Your cloak," he said, taking the cloth in one gentle hand, "it was my father's."
"Oh. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. Valen gave it me and—"
"It's quite alright. I'm the one who gave it to him."
Tahlu motioned for her to join him with the others at the table as their meal was being laid out.
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
"When the Kesh Raza was discussing the possibility of recruiting you and your siblings, Valen said you would need something to identify yourself when you came. Something I and the other Tal would recognize, but others would not. My father was very fond of that cloak, up until his passing, so I knew right away what to use."
"Well, thank you," Syra said, trying to not speak with her mouth full. "It certainly helped when we were stuck in that storm. It's quite warm."
"As it should be!" Tahlu said over his glass. "Did you know, the silk from the Montane Silk Worm is the only fiber to expand when cold?"
"I did not!" Syra exclaimed, leaning over her plate, curious to hear more.
"And here she goes again," Petra groaned and turned her focus to her goat-and-herb omlette with creamed potatoes.
Talk of alpine worms, vangora, and other montane creatures dominated the conversation. And when the meal had taken longer than he wanted, Aidan cleared his throat to signal its ending.
"We should get going now, if you don't mind," he said, standing.
"Yes, of course," said Tahlu. "If you could wait just outside, I'll have my carriage brought around."
Wyn returned their belongings as they left, but all the while his eyes remained on Syra and her earring.
"Your bag, miss," he said, handing it over.
"Thank you, Wyn," she said, slinging it over a shoulder.
"Thank you for coming."
There was a sincerity in his eyes that grabbed at her, and she dipped a quick curtsy.
"Don't mind Wyn," Tahlu said as he helped Syra into the carriage. "He has a thing for mages."
Petra laughed and Aidan looked out the window.
"Oh. Well, that's very flattering," Syra said, a shade red.
Tahlu secured the door and hopped up top with Wyn, "To Omei."
***
The carriage stopped near the base of the mountain where large stone doors were carved into its side. Above them, Talian script arched, chiseled into the stone. Syra tried to decipher it, but was too unfamiliar with the language.
"Separate, but never silenced. Absent, but never forgotten," Tahlu recited the words worn from the stone, but not from his mind.
"What is it?" asked Syra.
"This is Omei," he said, raising a hand for the door to be opened, "the underground city."
Past the heavy doors, light spilled down into the cavern that tunneled hundreds of feet into the mountain. Down and down the staircase wound, around pools and stalagmites, glowing crystals illuminating its steps worn from decades of passing feet. The bottom was a mere speck at the back of the cavern, and all four party members were left speechless. A rush of wind that smelled of smoke and wet stone nearly tipped Syra over the stairs, and Tahlu steadied her with a laugh.
"Careful," he said, "it's a long way down."
"I thought Mirna was the only Talian city," said Cassius, looking to Tahlu with big eyes.
"It was, for a long time." Tahlu began his descent down into the hole and waved them to join him, "This was originally the entrance to our mines, but was, eventually, converted to a city."
The siblings, being accustomed to caves, followed close behind Tahlu. But Aidan, a creature of open fields and sky, balked at the rocky mouth gaping before him. Wyn had to pat him hard on the back to force him forward.
"Why? Too many people?" asked Aidan, catching up to them.
"Too many sick people," Tahlu said.
"I didn't know Tal could get sick."
"No race is immune to disease. We only manage to stave it off because of all the hard work our scholars do." Tahlu couldn't help but boast. "But the illness we suffered, this Lavi Disease, was not from this land, nor was it in any way natural."
Tahlu's face darkened and he looked behind him to see all eyes waiting.
"It was that shard you seek that brought about the plague. We should have known better than to let an alchemist mess with it—Caelus, was his name. But he promised great results and a chance to 'better the Talian race by stealing from the best'. Alchemical fusion, he called it. The process required tremendous energy, so what better use for a powerful crystal?" He laughed at himself, "But the energy from the crystal was too strong. The potion exploded and sent gas everywhere. Caelus was the first to be infected and the first casualty."
"Most casualties died in the first few months. Some from fever, others from suffocation or heart failure. Those that survived infection ended up without ears or noses. A terrible sight it was, watching their flesh being eaten away day by day. Death would have been easier. The sickness spread to half of our city, and we were left with no other choice but to separate the infected."
"So, you left them to die?" Petra asked, her voice echoing off the walls.
"No! No, of course not," said Tahlu, calming himself. "The infection had no bias. It took farmers, merchants, and officials...even children. My own little brother was infected. No, we gave them the space and supplies, and they built the city for themselves. That's why my brother leads Omei, while I lead Mirna. So that everything we have in the Upper Branch, they have in the Lower."
"Except sunlight," said Aidan as they reached the bottom level.
"Yes," Tahlu said, "an unfortunate effect of infection is that exposure to direct sunlight worsens their illness, many times burning them. Another reason we chose the mines for their relocation."
Syra stalled just outside the doorway, "But, if all the people down here are infected, are we even safe being here?"
"Oh yes," said Tahlu, giving the guard permission to open a second pair of doors. "Time seems to have lessen the spread of the illness. Though, it is still spread from mother to child, despite our decades of effort."
When the doors to Omei opened, they were greeted by two Tal that made Syra's breath catch in her throat.
"This is my bother, Lanis, and Leimia," Tahlu said, introducing them. "They will be your escorts from here onward."
Lanis had the same face as his brother, minus the nose. His satin-white hair fell in a freshly-trimmed angled bob that grazed his collarbone, but the downy feathers crowning his forehead insisted a ruffled look. His ears that would have normally been long and pointed were gnarled to half their length, as if gnawed off by some animal. But despite their haggard appearance, his hair remained tucked neatly behind them, revealing the stubby horn at his jaw.
Leimia seemed to have gotten off easy, by comparison. The child's ears were still whole, but folded over like a pup, and donned a lavender stud. A full head of tawny hair draped past the edges of her cape and matched the jaw feathers and three barred plumes that sprung from her hairline. But most noticeable, were the puffs of feathers extending inches off her shoulders.
It took all of the party's willpower to hide their shock, but both Tal knew their expression too well.
"It's alright," Lanis said, "I know it can be quite jarring the first time you see it." He offered a scale-covered hand in welcome, and Syra found it hard not to stare at the two slits where his nose should have been.
"What happened?" Syra asked, shaking his and Leimia's hands. "Tahlu told us about the infection, but...I didn't expect this."
Lanis had to laugh, "No one ever does."
He gave his brother a tight hug before Tahlu turned to leave back up the stairway.
"Wait!" Syra called to him, "You should have this back." She took off her cloak and held it out to Tahlu.
Tahlu's hand hovered above the cloak for just a moment before he pushed it back to Syra.
"I've grieved long enough," he said with a smile, "and it would only be a reminder. Plus, it would be of more use to you." He patted her lightly on the head, "Now go. Don't keep my brother waiting."
Tahlu began his climb and Syra returned to the doorway to follow after Lanis.
"Come," Lanis said as the doors closed behind them, "we will explain everything on the way."
"On the way, where?" Petra asked, intimidated by the large, vining plants that grew along the cavern walls and lit the rooms with a cool, green glow.
"To the shard, of course," said Leimia in a soft, pleasant voice, "Is that not why you're here?"
"It is," Aidan said, also a bit shaken by his new surroundings, "and we're thankful for all your help."
"As are we," Lanis said. "We will all benefit from those stones being destroyed. As well as that dragon. No offense meant," he said, looking to the siblings.
"Couldn't agree more," Petra said.
Lanis led them through tunnels and open rooms filled with luminescent plants and glittering stones. There were pools and waterfalls and vines that grew like trees. Even the ceiling moved with the fluttering of shimmering insects.
"What are those?" Petra asked, breaking their silence and pointing to the feathers on Leimia's shoulder. "Those can't be wings. Way too small."
"Could you please stop with the rudeness?" Cassius hushed at her. "You're setting a bad example."
"Like you're not curious?"
"You're right," Leimia said with a twinge of sadness, "they are too small." She wiggled her tiny chick-like wings in short, meager flaps, "But, at least they're feathered."
"At least?"
Petra was cut off by bright white light as they turned a corner into Omei's main chamber, and Syra shielded her eyes until they adjusted.
Below the ledge, an array of buildings, streets, and gardens stretched out until the wall curved up into the geode-like the ceiling. Though the buildings weren't as tall as their Mirnan counterparts, Omei was twice as wide. And above all of them, in the center of the ceiling surrounded by crystals, were roots. Massive, thick roots that hung and wound down the cavern walls, emitting white light like a tiny sun.
Syra's eyes bulged, "Is that—"
"Mother Tree?" Lanis finished. "Yes. You can mine a lot in a hundred years, and ours led us right under Kor Lahru. Not only is the light not harmful, but the mana spring above us flows down here, too. It's probably the reason why the afflicted aren't getting any worse."
Down the ledge and into the streets Lanis led them, all the while passing Lower Tal with fur, feather, scales, and mixtures of all three. Some had noses, others didn't. Some had ears, others had holes surrounded by scarring.
"Infection affects everyone differently," said Lanis, noticing the party's wandering eyes. "The tilians grew scales or hide, and the mamans have an array of fur and horns. I even know a few with fae-like qualities who can go out in sunlight. Then there are some, like Leimia here, who are avens.
"Avens?" asked Syra.
"Feathers," said Leimia, pointing at her plumes.
"Then what about you?" Cassius asked Lanis, eyes locked on the smooth, wheat-colored scales that travelled up his neck to his cheek.
"Me?" Lanis faltered under Cassius' direct stare but quickly righted himself with a grin. "Oh, I'm just a bit of a mutt. I caught the disease as a child, so it had time to play Guess What with me. But others..." His grin faded as he glanced down at little Leimia and her shoulder puffs.
"Those born here in Omei—the lowborn—get it the worst. They're deformed from day one and it only grows worse with age. You rarely see extra limbs like this on us highborn. Even if they're fully fledged like Leimia's, they're useless and only make tailoring more tedious."
"It's not that bad," said Leimia, "I'm still pretty lucky. Many lowborn avens don't even make the feathering stage, so they're stuck with bare skin or have them cut off."
Cassius shivered at the thought of having his own wings sawed off, "I couldn't ever go through with that. No matter how ugly they might be."
"It's not just a matter of aesthetics," said Lanis. "Extras can be cumbersome and painful, and raw skin is easily infected. Plus, removal can leave even worse scarring."
Cassius watched as Lanis' hand picked absently at his chest, and decided to drop the subject.
"I see. That is...quite the dilemma. But, at least it's their choice, right?"
Lanis chuckled and turned a warm smile to Cassius, "Absolutely. Omei pride's itself on its individuals, so personal choice is of high priority—with some safety stipulations, of course."
Cassius' shoulders relaxed at the thought, "Sounds nice."
"You're one to talk," said Petra, "regulating what comes out of my mouth."
"Like he said, safety precautions."
A hearty laugh burst from Lanis' lips and he had to smother his mouth to keep from spitting. "You really are siblings, aren't you?"
"Worse..." said Petra.
"Twins," Cassius completed.
"Ah, yes," he padded Cassius hard on the shoulder, "twin crowns are rarely comfortable. I should know."
He descended the ledge stairs and waved them onward, "In that case, I'll show you to somewhere more accommodating."
Lanis led them over bridges and around a small lake to the lower portion of the city.
"You will be staying in our academy dorms, near the alchemy labs," said Lanis. He pointed to a long, tall building built right into the cave wall and sat overlooking them from its perch a few terraces up. "We just had some rooms open up, so your timing is perfect. But, before that, I have someone you should meet."
***
They arrived at a lavish tavern-like building where drumming music could be heard from the street. Drapes of satin and velvet cloaked the tall windows and a guard stood posted at the door. Above the doorway, the Talian words for "Playhouse" greeted them in fine metalwork.
"This way, please," said Lanis, entering.
Inside, smoke and the scent of stringent drinks filled the hall. Scantily clad men and women clung to their patrons, offering a spectrum of services, while others danced and swayed from ropes and platforms above the crowds. Most were in a stupor, but all turned their eyes and watched as the foreign party descended into the pit.
Lanis brought them to a half-point maman enjoying the company of his feathered doll in heels.
Oblivious to the party, he plucked a feather from his companion and dropped it into the mortar next to him. Blood beaded up on her skin, but he pressed a finger to it and, with a spark, it healed right up.
"Is this what I pay you for, Ristau?" Lanis asked, his glare moving from the companion to mortar and pestle in his hands.
"With all respect, Lanis, what I do with my money in my free time is my business."
The Tal's ragged ears poked out from the black hair that was slicked back into a loose side braid, and a pair of stud horns arched from his forehead. He continued to crush the feather into dust with his pestle.
"It's past sunhigh," said Lanis.
Ristau's grinding stopped, "Ah...alright."
He patted his companion off his lap and slipped a silver coin into her brazier, "Tomorrow, then." He sniffed and wiped his nose, watching her saunter off to the next open hand.
"Welcome to Omei, young travelers," he said, stuffing his tools into his pocket but paying them little heed. "Where dirt and depravity mirror the faces of its citizens."
"Ristau!" Lanis slammed a hand on the table and shoved his face to Ristau's ear. "I assume the use of Down also falls into 'none of my business'? Despite the obvious legal issues."
"It helps me think."
Lanis scoffed and handed him handkerchief, "And do you ever think about the damage it's doing to you?"
"Don't worry, I'll heal. I always do."
"Your body might, but will your mind? I can't have you—"
"People are free to fall as they like here, remember?" A lilting voice cut through murmur of the crowd as they were joined by a comely lady Tal who knew how to dress for the imagination. Long, ebony curls bounced on her hips, and the two purple hoops shone proudly atop her right ear.
But Lanis ignored her wily sashaying with a disapproving scowl, "It's not safe, Isa. And you know it."
"The world isn't safe, my dear Lanis. Even under your gracious and watchful eye." The matron came up behind Ristau and raked delicate fingers through his hair, massaging gently until his shoulders sagged and his head fell back. "At least I can make it tolerable."
"Speaking of guilty pleasures, what brings you down to the pit?" The full-point fae smirked at the party, and the fins that graced her jaw quivered, "And with so many? Four is quite bold. Even for you."
"Bold, but not impossible," said Isa's attendant, a male folded-point fae doning a blue hoop on his right earlobe. He brushed up against Cassius and the fly-like wings on his wrists fluttered in excitement.
Cassius froze, flushing red, and Syra bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"They're with me," Lanis said, leering at him.
"Well, someone's selfish," he said and huffed away to Isa's side.
"Easy, Laisaf," she said, patting his bare chest, "their business appears elsewhere."
"But, if you ever get an inkling," Isa said to the party, "the first round is on the house."
She led Laisaf back into the pit of patrons, and Lanis hung his head with a sigh.
"So, are you coming back with us or not?" he asked Ristau.
"Back where, again?" Ristau slouched over the table.
"The lab," Lanis hissed and pointed to Syra's earring. "Valen sent her."
"Ah." Ristau snapped his mouth shut and regained his composure, "Very well, then."
***
A wave of comfort washed over Syra as they followed Ristau through the corridors of Omei's academy. It smelled of herbs and dusty books, and warm light poured through the windows as the roots and crystals overhead dimmed with the setting sun. Despite the flow of mana around them, Syra felt fatigue tug at her limbs and feet and eyed the pillowed couches as they passed.
Waiting outside an alchemy den was a lady Tal of flowing hair and satin gown that clung to her curved frame in all the right places. She thumped an impatient finger against the book she was holding.
"I was beginning to wonder if I had to fetch you myself," she said to Ristau, leading them inside the lab of bottles, books, and bubbling flasks.
"I do apologize," said Lanis, ushering the party to their seats around a table. "You know how difficult he can be when he's...off duty."
Ristau ignored their scowls and fell into his seat while the lady arranged pages and scrolls on the table.
"Unfortunately," she said, apprehending his mortar he had set beside him. He snatched at thin air and she plopped it down at her seat far from his reach. "After we're finished."
"Welcome to my lab," she said once everyone was seated.
"Your lab?" Ristau hissed. "I'm the one who brought you here."
"It would be your lab, if you spent more time in it."
She turned her attention Syra and her crew, "It's a tad cluttered, but I hope you'll find it suitable."
"Suitable for what?" Petra asked.
"This is Sulaer," Lanis said after a brief pause. "She's one of Mirna's archmages."
It was then that Syra noticed the two gold hoops atop Sulaer's ear.
"She has been graciously working down here to find a cure for the infection."
"That's great, but what does that have to do with the shard?" Aidan asked.
Sulaer's amber eyes stared him down in silence, "Do you know what started the infection? That is was not simply caught, but made?"
"Tahlu said an alchemist made it, on accident."
"And?"
"And he used a shard to power the spell?" Her unblinking gaze made him nervous.
"So to undo this spell, it would make sense to?"
Aidan's mouth was left hanging. He had dealt with alchemy before, but nothing of this magnitude.
"Work backwards," said Syra, gaining Sulaer's attention. "To unravel a knot you have to work backwards. Spells are the same way. But that requires all conditions to be the same as they were during casting."
"And that means, what?" asked Aidan.
Syra sighed and her shoulders drooped, "That they need the shard to power a counter-spell."
Aidan leered over at Lanis, "I thought you brought us here to collect the shards. To destroy them."
"We did."
"Then why are you still using it? That's what killed your people in the first place."
"I am well aware of that," Lanis leered back, the feathers at his crown beginning to stand. "And we have to live with that mistake every day. But many harmful things can be used for good if treated correctly."
"You're taking an awfully big risk, Lanis."
"And you would have me do what, exactly? Sit on my ass and do nothing? Just watch as my people starve and their children be born disfigured, if they even survive at all? We can't even feel sunlight without blistering. If it weren't for the few fae and my nighthands, we'd have starved decades ago."
Lanis took a few breaths to calm himself, then leaned over to Aidan, "You're a prince. So tell me, what would you have done in my situation?"
Aidan glanced over to Syra and the twins, but Lanis grabbed him by the chin and forced his face forward.
"I didn't ask them, I asked you. As Altaira's next king, what would you do?"
Aidan fought the urge to punch him in the face. But Lanis' eyes were clear and begged for another option. Though, Aidan knew there was none.
"Fine. What do you need us to do?"