On a river, some dozen kilometers away from Meiridin, is a galley stained in blood. There are signs that someone, or something, attempted to set fire to the hull just above the floating line.
The sails have been pulled back, the oars put away, and the anchor lowered. The galley-slaves that would usually be kept chained to their benches day and night are roaming freely on the upper deck without any apparent leadership.
They do pay deference to one tall midnight-haired woman named Ruth, many of them think she has been named such for how ruthlessly dice treat her. She is currently checking a set of bone dice that she stole before her latest opponents, two soldiers and one former crime-slave, could stop her.
She suspects foul play is behind her latest string of losses but, to be fair, she always does. She isn't usually right but every time she is, she uses it to justify her consecutive defeats, even those that occurred days before.
“You didn't have a complaint when you won this morning.” One of the soldier notes, annoyed.
“Once! And you probably let me win to hide the trick!” Ruth exclaims, exaggerating.
“It won you two silvers, Cap'n.” The galley-slave comments.
“And I just lost three!” She snaps back with a fake scowl.
“You check'd 'em, let's play.” The other soldier says with a sigh.
“We only have two sets of dice, you've played with those last week.” The first one says while snatching the dotted cubes away with a lion strike.
“Hey!” Ruth cries out in outrage, raising a threatening fist.
The three players hang back and the soldier gives the dice back worried that it'll turn into a brawl again. The woman is short-tempered but they're not too afraid because she usually holds back and the risk adds some spice to the game.
Ruth sits back down and finishes sneakily weaving a construct inside the dice before handing them over to her crewmate and throwing her last silver next to the flat bottom plate. The other three roll their eyes and place a few bronze pieces next to her coin, about as impatient at her to keep going.
“Stop fool'n ar'nd and throw!” Ruth shouts. “Was'ng my time.” She adds in a grumble.
The criminal throws the dice without protesting the unfairness of her comment... and gets a triple four, he shouts out in joy. Ruth lets herself fall backward on the deck with a theatrical cry of despair.
“Yea! Take that!” The criminal exclaims with a grin. “All mine!”
“Not yet!” Ruth counters, taking the dice and throwing them in one swift motion. She gets a one, a three, and a five. “Nooooooooooo!”
“By the Lake, you're bad.” The second soldier laughs.
They take their turns but don't get better rolls than the criminal who pockets the pot with glee. Ruth calls that game quits, having lost all the coins she brought.
As she makes her way down to the kitchen to grab something to eat, he catches up to her, asking if she's alright and likely worried about having won most of the coins she brought.
“Win some, lose some.” Ruth replies with a good-natured smile. “How're ya doin'?”
“Pretty good now.” He smiles. “Still, how much longer do we have to wait?”
“It's almost been a month so, hopefully, not much longer.” Ruth answers, a little concerned. “Don't worry, you'll get back to your kid one way or another, I'll make sure of it.”
“Ha!” He chuckles. “It might be more lucrative to stick with you than go back to fixing shoes, you're making me rich!” Ruth stops and frowns. “I'm joking, I'm joking!” The criminal immediately backtracks.
--- --- ---
In the captain's cabin, Countess Grace Odo is pacing, boiling in impatience and concern at having made the wrong calls because she isn't ready to bear her title. After all, her plan was to join the Templars and as a consequence hasn't been studying as much as she should have as a back-up heiress.
She's had weeks to go over the events of the battle, to get over the brutality of her brother's death and admit to herself that he truly did deserve what happened to him.
Yet remains the fact that the barbaric woman killed too many for her actions to be justified by self-defense. She is angry at the Templars for refusing to shed light on the hidden motives behind all of this, not that she's surprised with a Shade involved.
All she knows for certain is that the institute is at the center of this disaster. Her doubts push her so far as to question King Cenwalh for accepting this Suxen which the University claims left in disgrace.
The twelve Templars have been keeping to themselves, even as they grow worried for their leader. She surreptitiously overheard a conversation but they 'caught' her too soon for her to gather any more than that.
“Lady Countess! Lady Countess!” A soldier calls out, knocking at the door.
“What is it?” She asks, still pacing.
“The Exemplar has returned!” He replies.
“Finally!” She grabs her sword and rushes out of the cabin.
--- --- ---
Vikiana is galloping through farmlands followed by a dozen warhorses tied together in a file with long leads. She is pushing them to go as fast as she can, burning through flow to keep them going as long as possible.
She borrowed the mounts in a village on the outskirts of Meiridin who exclusively sells to the Templar Order. Vikiana took the opportunity to stock up on flow as well, luckily she got there by morning so the villagers had their reserves half-filled and the horse's speed largely made up for the time she spent.
They were more than happy to provide such direct support to the Order but she still paid them with some gold. She boosts her eyesight and spots the ship in the distance, relieved to find that the soldier in the bird's next is waving at her.
Soldiers are already lowering a rowboat down to the river for her. Vikiana slows down to give the horses some rest, knowing that her brethren will need some time to get ready to depart without wasting time.
She would like to leave their plate armors behind to go faster but estimates that they cannot as they will need them. Not to fight, but because Templars in armor are a force that no city guard would dare to defy.
Vikiana distinguishes Countess Odo and Ruth up on the bridge, the first impatiently circling while the second is casually leaning on the guardrail. She checks on the pouches of gold attached to her saddle for the third time, making sure she has what she needs to keep the criminals tame.
The Exemplar knows better than to underestimate the woman because of her attitude, the same way she doesn't let Ruth's jargon fool her into lowering her guard, she's heard her change manner of speaking often enough to see through the trick.
Still, she isn't certain that it's an act as the woman seems too straightforward to make these kinds of calculations. Either way, the criminal's lot matters little to the Exemplar as long as they don't interfere.
She stops her column of warhorses next to a thick oak tree next to the riverbank and ties their leads around the trunk. She finishes just as the rowboat, carrying a criminal and a soldier, touches shore.
“Exemplar.” The soldier salutes.
“At ease.” She replies with a nod. “I'm in a hurry, let's get going.”
She throws the two sacks of gold into the embarkation and sits down at the stern to take hold of the tiller so they can each take an oar instead of making a single one row all the way back on his own.
With her lack of experience, however, she ends up making the trip slightly longer because she either veers too close or too far to the hull. Both the sailor and the soldier take her mistakes with a smile and offer to take over but she refuses to give up.
In the end, it takes her only four tries to get the rowboat just barely close enough to the galley to grab the ropes out of the water, they threw them at her first attempt but she had to urgently make a turn to avoid crashing into the ship.
“Impressive, no doubt the result of years of training!” The crime-slave quips.
The soldier tries to stifle his laughter but he breaks and guffaws. Vikiana takes it all in stride with a poker face, she wanted to make it and she did so she's satisfied.
It goes under silence that the reason her last attempt only succeeded because the rowboat was pushed in line by a small wave. No one notices Ruth's mirthful smile and none is likely to find out that she just burned through her entire reserve.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Her crew made fun of the Exemplar and, while she didn't really feel bad for the Exemplar, doing things like this makes her smile so she just did. She resolves to fleece a few idiots at dice in the afternoon to make up for the bout of generosity.
Conrad welcomes Vikiana on the deck by himself as the rest of the Templars are still ferrying their gear and supplies over to the upper deck. The Exemplar only has time to tell him that they're moving out as soon as they get the equipment to shore before Ruth and Grace arrive.
“Got tha' pardon?” Ruth interrupts.
“Couldn't get it. It wasn't Elizabeth's fault, or for lack of trying, the Chancellor was simply unreasonable.” Vikiana answers immediately.
“That ain't good 'nough, woman.” Ruth replies, her mood turning instantly sour. “She made promises to my crew, to me.”
“I have the gold and Lady Grace's word that she'll issue you a pardon still holds, correct?” Vikiana turns to the Countess.
“It does.” Grace confirms.
The Lady had more than a few doubts about pardoning them before but, after getting to know each other, the two extensively discussed which of the criminals would stay on the galley and which have chosen to return to their lives in Port-Odo. The Countess was relieved to find out that those guilty of the worse crimes decided to stick with Ruth, which Grace suspects isn't a coincidence.
“It ain't enough!” Ruth barks. “I'm sorry, Lady, but who knows if your city still stands!”
“It fell, weeks ago.” Vikiana admits.
“So I suspected.” Grace comments sadly. “I hope they surrendered quickly.”
“Perhaps they have, the battle didn't last long.” The Exemplar adds, saying the words to give comfort more than because she thinks them true.
“We could go to the Palace in Meiridin ourselves.” Grace suggests.
“That's not a good idea.” Vikiana shakes her head.
“And why is that?” Ruth asks aggressively.
“You said so yourself a month ago, the Chancellor could decide to arrest you all to hold audience over your fate.” Vikiana explains.
“She's sadly correct.” Grace agrees. “But that doesn't prevent me from going by myself, with my soldiers. If I fail and troops or ships come here to arrest you, you'll be able to flee long before they even get close enough to board the galley.”
Vikiana keeps her silence, well aware that she doesn't have any arguments to oppose Grace's idea and trying to give her an order is likely to antagonize them both and waste time that she simply does not have.
The Exemplar calculates that it'll all be over by the time Grace reaches the capital so the consequences of her revealing that Elizabeth Vil is in Meiridin are mitigated and negligible.
“I'll take the gold and the ship, you're all free to do whatever you wish since Elizabeth Vil hasn't kept her word but I won't wait here any longer than a week which should be plenty of time for you to make it back Countess.” Ruth declares before storming off.
“That went better than I thought.” Conrad comments.
“She isn't unreasonable and she cares for her people.” Grace replies.
“I suppose I'll have to warn Elizabeth not to play dice with her.” He says with a smile.
“Pack up both rowboats with only what's necessary and get ready for a tiring ride.” Vikiana says. “You've been stocking up on flow, correct? I don't have enough to sustain twelve.”
“We have, but we had to restrain ourselves to our gourds because of petty thieves.” He replies.
“We wouldn't have been able to carry barrels anyway.” Vikiana tells him. “We'll make a stop at Wollass village to exchange mounts and replenish our energy since the warhorses will tire a lot quicker from carrying your plated asses.”
While the Templars ferry over their equipment, Grace orders her soldiers gather their own gear, intending to depart immediately after the Templars. She plans to lion's step all the way to a relay to get to Meiridin as quickly as possible. She wants to find out for what so many of her people died.
--- --- ---
Grace, who disembarked on the other side of the river bank than the Templars, pushes her soldiers to the limit to reach a relay. She finds only a dozen horses, counting even those resting.
Without mounts of her own to exchange, she has to pawn the equipment of the soldiers who can't accompany her. She finds the experience of having too little money rather humbling.
They arrive in Meiridin during the night, only an hour or two after the Templars, who chose not to push their mounts too hard before a potential fight. The Countess leaves the horses at the relay outside the city, a few of them so tired that their riders feared the animals would die of fatigue.
The Templars, entirely unaware that the Countess' group arrived, make their way straight to the institute. Just as they enter the slums, they hear a thunderous crack that resounds throughout Meiridin's streets.
The flash of light is so intense that the dark sky turns blue-white for a moment before starting to dissipate. Yet, it doesn't entirely go away. They even witness tiny crackling bolts in the distance over the roofs.
Vikiana picks up on a small series of explosions in the background, only her experience in battle allows her to pick it out of the cacophony created by what must no doubt be a lightning construct.
On the other side of the city, the Countess perks up and rushes into a large avenue, taking notice of the sky as well. She calls her soldiers together and orders them to march at double speed but to hold onto what little flow they have left.
As they Templars make their way towards the slums, they run into a few patrols of guards discussing what to do with an air of fear. Vikiana directs them all to report to the palace.
Before they even reach the source of the light and loud buzzing, the thunder abruptly ends only to be replaced by a red glow and the crackling of a blaze, followed almost immediately by a loud explosion that makes a sound akin to a battering ram crushing stone.
Vikiana orders her Templars to accelerate into double trot, the safest speed they can go to on pavement while maintaining the ability to make sharp turns or stop at a moment's notice.
Their advance is hindered by many groups of people, mostly slum dwellers but also sailors and rioters who always comes out when there is trouble afoot. She doesn't waste time trying to disperse them, knowing that the effort is deemed to fail without an armed presence along the entire perimeter.
She presses on, worried about Jessica but also about what she could have done in her single-minded pursuit. She makes a turn left into a street leading straight to the institute and immediately pulls on her reins.
“Stop! Stop!” She yells to warn her brethren.
The road in front of them has caved in all the way to the institute, a small portion of the wall even crumbled down. At the bottom of the pit are the remnants of an underground aqueduct, pouring water with a distinct golden glow into the rubble.
The Exemplar swears but there is a smile on her face as she realizes that this is the institute's leyline and that Jessica took it out, and perhaps even their reservoir as well considering the amount of water gushing out from the dark rectangular building.
She directs her Templars to make a turn to the right, deciding to head towards the fire to see if it is contained and find a route inside. There isn't as much panic in the streets as there would normally be.
The attacks are visibly contained to the institute as anyone can find out by taking a mere glance at the sky, the establishment's location is well-known throughout the city.
Many of those who live in the slums are actually out and on the roofs and smiling in schadenfreude as they watch the building burn from a safe distance. In cases of disasters, people tend to band together, putting their feuds aside to help and fight back.
The fact that not a single person even thinks to pick up a bucket of water to put the blaze out is perhaps the most visible mark of the hatred and fear that people feel towards the institute.
Vikiana spots a few more pairs of sailors out and about, noting their presence but unwilling to stop them to ask what they're doing. A good thing, she thinks, because when she arrives at the fire, she finds that the way is also blocked here.
Luckily, the fire seems to be contained to a chunk of rubble inside another large hole in the street and is spreading into the institute from the huge gash in its facade. Conrad and the other Templars pause, baffled by the scale of the damage.
“Vicky!” One of the Templars suddenly yells out. “Hunting warbeast!”
“What!?” She exclaims. “Where?!”
“In the fire!” He replies, pointing down into the hole.
The Exemplar enhances her eyesight, just in time to catch sight of a small reptile circling in the shadows projected by the fire. It's weaving through the debris, using chunks from a section of the institute's ground floor which collapsed into the basement.
They hadn't noticed before of the fire and because it's only the size of a large dog. It has two muscular legs made for sprinting, a long thin tail, and a small snout. From was she was taught, Vikiana knows that they don't have very thick scales but can spring faster than even the fastest horse if you let them.
The eyes trained on it seem to agitate the reptile. It flips and makes a full turn on itself, screeching from the top of its lungs. A second one suddenly jumps into the blaze, landing on a beam that it uses as a platform to propel itself out of the hole.
It lands in the street and tries to sprint to the right, keeping the collapsed pavement between it and the Templars. It makes it ten meters before Conrad launches an air-blade that cuts its head off.
The reptile runs headless for a dozen meters with a blue fountain of blood spurting out of its neck before dropping. Vikiana prepares an air-blade of her own, increasing the speed at the expense of thickness like Conrad did and kills the second one as soon as it rears its head again.
“There has to be more, Duihs hunt in packs.” The Templar who first spotted it warns.
“It was inside the institute. They might've had only a couple.” Conrad notes.
“We're cleaning this up. If more than those two got loose, it'll be a slaughter.” Vikiana orders despite her unwillingness. “Run interference for Elizabeth every chance you get.”
The Templars acknowledge the directions and split out into two groups, heading out east and west to circle around the institute. The Exemplar wants to head inside the institute to help Jessica if she gets a chance but doubts she'd be able to justify setting aside her duty to the people of Caeviel if the choice is presented to her.
In the streets not far from them, Lady Countess Grace Odo is facing off with a group of sailors that she intercepted for carrying flow torches with a ludicrous amount of energy, one of her soldiers swears that he saw them about to throw them at the institute.
In the process of interrogating them, she hears a small twig snap from the back of the group. She orders those in the front to move aside but, before she can find out whether someone just broke a beacon construct, she hears another twig snap, likely a response.
The sailors break loose, half of them pull daggers out and engage her soldiers while the other half rushes those guarding the confiscated torches. Grace moves to intercept but she hears the characteristic sound of an arrow and ducks.
She assembles a defensive construct and applies it to her leather armor but, by the time she's done, it's all over. The sailors who fought her soldiers are dead but so are the three guards holding the torches, they were taken out by thin arrows from a sniper she can't even see.
The sailors have already thrown the torches on the institute's roof and are now escaping through alleyways. Grace swallows her saliva, feeling utterly lost and defeated. Yet, she resolves to do the right thing and hunt these pyromaniacs down before they cause any more damage.
There is a man holding a taut bow on a roof a hundred meters away, one street across the institute. He knocks an arrow with a rope attached to it and releases it. It flies up and falls on the institute's gray slate tiles, piercing them and planting itself in the support structure underneath.