III

The past week or so had done miracles to both himself and Isi.

For her part she had filled out well, everywhere, she had curves in places he hadn't seen in almost two years. The mines had a way of doing that to people, stripping them of all life. The carriage jostled as the ironclad wheels bounced over a brick paver that had worked its way loose and now sat above the level of the rest of its kin. The motion brought Adrian out of his thoughts and back to the dark and gloomy surroundings of the city of Helheim. For his father and most other men in the Consul, Helheim was the rightful heir to the Old Empire’s lands and territories. His father would stop at nothing to make sure the empire regained what he considered was rightfully theirs.

“Holtopa Nashoba,” Isi said with a small smile, he glanced at her and smiled in return. She had just called him darling wolf, it had been a term of endearment she had used on several occasions when she had first seen him she had thought of him as an old wolf, snarling at its enemies. She hadn't told him until later that her Scraeling tribe’s spirit was a wolf, and that the wolf was supposed to protect them. He looked at her, she smiled and leaned forward, squeezing his leg with her hand in a comforting way. She had seen Adrian in many different situations, she could tell just by a glance that he was nervous, as she squeezed his leg she looked out the window, watching the crowds of people with amazement. She had been just as amazed at the sight of the train that had chugged past there on its tracks that had paralleled the road. Just like then, Adrian enjoyed seeing the curiosity and wonder in her eyes. This all was something he had grown up seeing, but to hear everything in this land had an alien air to it. She had obviously never seen this many people in one place, as the two of them had worked hard to stay away from any city that had a large population on their flight from Kurtz, as a large population usually meant a large number of patrolling guards.

He followed her gaze and looked out to see the tall buildings, most made of wood plastered over and whitewashed, stood two or sometimes three stories tall. The packed streets had hundreds if not thousands of people milling about.

He was nervous.

Nervous to see his father, he had gone to war, held an enemy army off during a siege, killed a man by drowning him, and many other ways though none as personal or terrible as that had been, to top it off he had worked in a hell hole for five years and this man still caused him this much unease?

His father was a force of nature, a man who would not simply let something as small as a missing son or rather a son that he had thought was dead for the past five years slow him down. Adrian had often wondered if his father even had emotions…

The carriage rumbled on, passing by the buildings and smaller single-family structures and into an even more crowded section of the city, this one populated almost entirely with shop fronts. On the corner streets, children yelled out news and waved around papers. Adrian had always hated those papers, you could never get the truth out of them, they were practically owned by the Helheim magistrate, all the news that was in it was washed, rinsed, and censored, not quite to the level of propaganda but not far off…

He glanced down at his hand, the left one, the un-whole one. Gone were the first two fingers on that hand, the first nearly lopped off by the knuckle, the other one at the first joint. This was done not only to inflict pain when they were taken from him but to also serve the purpose of harming his casting. Helheim mages were some of the strongest in the world, their use of undiluted reagents meant that while they were slower to cast, each cast was more effective. Unlike other mages, a Helheim mage would either lick their fingers or carry a small jar of pure water, then put them into the corresponding reagent powders allowing the fine substance to coat those fingers. When two reagents came into contact with each other, nothing happened, they were just inert powders, unless one was to channel through them. One could not create something from nothing. To cast a light healing spell required Calamine and Cuprum, a flame required Nitre and Sulfur, and every spell required something.

He glanced down at the small box that was belted around his waist. It looked rather like the ammunition pouch that Helheim soldiers wore into battle. Only instead of paper cartridges containing a lead ball on top of a load of gunpowder, this box held several smaller boxes. Each of them had a leather lid of their own and each contained a reagent. A Helheim mage was expected to not only know which box held which reagent in their sleep but also find them without thinking, to do this they were drilled until they could access the right combinations of reagents at a moment’s notice no matter what was happening around them. The muscle memory was still there, he would have to fight it now, relearning the movements since his first two fingers were now useless until he got them retrained at least.

He glanced over at Isi, once again wondering how she did her magic. She had tried to tell him a few times, attempted to explain it to him. In those moments he wondered if he was the ignorant savage, her language had words in it to describe magic and how magic worked that his did not. Concepts they had no names for.

“Istharn butarin?” Isi asked and pointed out of the window of the carriage. Adrian followed her gesture and saw that they had gotten to the sunken district.

“Helheim used to be part of a much larger empire until the Tindrasian empire fell apart it was simply the largest of the port cities. After Gual’tor, which was the capital of the Old Empire, was abandoned and the land divided between three factions, us, the Kurtz empire, and Swadia, Helheim became the capital of our section of what remained.” He shook his head, realizing he had gotten off of topic quite quickly. “Anyway, what you are seeing in the bay, those are the ruins of a part of the city before the fracturing, as people now refer to it.” The random jagged spires that stuck out of the water were the tops of some of the taller buildings, interspersed with a tower here or there that was missing its roof, but the real danger was the fully sunken buildings most of which stood a hand or two’s breadth above the water of the bay. Those buildings made the approach to the city from the old bay difficult and only passable by small rowboats. “The Old Empire was a force to be reckoned with when it came to magic, a juggernaut that wanted more and more power and knowledge, the college was built here in the city of Helheim for the express purpose of studying magic. However, their thirst for higher power was a sip they could not swallow.” He sighed, looking over at Isi, a smile playing across his face as he watched her stare in utter fascination at the section of the city that had been under the waters for the better part of a century now.

“Yutraasis haasmen?” she asked, finally tearing her gaze away from the ancient destruction.

“No one knows how, or why,” he answered with a shrug. “All we know is that over the course of a single day, the city of Gual’tor was abandoned, and if you believe the myths accursed and haunted, and in that same day an entire section of Helheim was swallowed up whole by the sea.” She looked at him with interest and he wondered which part of that sentence had caught her attention. But instead of asking her, he continued on with his explanation of how the city of Helheim had become the empire of Helheim. “There was a short period of time where the three factions that would become Swadia, Helheim, and Kurtz were relatively peaceful as they consolidated their own territory but that didn't last.”

“Disnao tutaran ish mutras.”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded in agreement, “you’re right, people are never satisfied with what they have. Anyway, in those wars Helheim was one of the great powers, before the fracturing we had the college which gave a good deal more men and women versed in the knowledge of magics. Our reign of battlefield supremacy however was not to last. It was the death of Emperor Caedus that ended it. His son believed that magic was the death of the Old Empire, and in such thoughts, banned the use of magic in Helheim. Emperor Kaltif was harsh and cruel. He valued strength over anything, leading the empire down a path of great economic decline. The little economic influxes we did see, were spent instantly on mass witch hunts, to find and kill practitioners of magic everywhere in the country.”

“Itursan Tobaran ,” Isi scoffed.

“Yeah, he was stupid,” Adrian agreed with a chuckle. “His reign of terror had ended shortly after he had come to the throne when an unknown assassin ended his life at the young age of 32. His only son, at the age of 12, succeeded the throne. Emperor Julian was far more docile than his father. Calling off the mage hunts, and re-allowing the use of magic in Helheim. But, to his dismay, it was too late. Most mages who had any knowledge of previous magics had their heads lined on pikes near the throne room. The only form of magic left was the practical war magic used by the last few mages, a sad mockery of the power the Old Empire used to hold.” Adrian shook his head, and for the thousandth time wondered what secrets those drowned ruins had contained. “Emperor Julian had spent the next fifty years of his reign attempting to undo his father’s mistakes, bringing mages back to their previous royal status. The hurdle that mages are still trying to overcome is that the empire had spent the previous generation working without magic, so many innovations had been created to do the work mages had once monopolized. Steam-powered machines did the work of twenty men, drilling tunnels and clearing lands faster and with less cost than hiring a mage. Great factories had been made employing hundreds of thousands of common laborers. Steam stacks had been created, that were then used to power weaving rooms and in oil refining to make kerosene, and of course the boilers for the trains.” Adrian shrugged, the world was the way it was and there was nothing he could do about it, nor would he want to change it back to the old ways, it had moved on and perhaps that was for the better, putting some power in the hands of the common man, “And Voltlocks of course,” he said, thinking of the rather effective weapons.

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Gone were the days when the mage reigned supreme on the battlefield, dealing death from afar. Now a basic infantryman with a standard issue Voltlock could kill with just as far a range after only a few months of training instead of the years of intensive and expensive training a mage required. And though a musket lacked the utility of a good mage, it made up for it with its sheer ease of use and easy production.

Emperor Julian’s son, an Emperor the population had taken to calling “Emperor Winlas the Idle” was a fop of a man, indulging only in every pleasure without a care for the people. Choosing to instead hand the vast majority of his power over to the Generals and the Consul of Nobles. A Consul whose only real contribution that Adrian could identify was the slight improvements to the city streets that the carriage was rocking back and forth on currently. That and the infrastructure that had made the railways possible. Adrian had only ridden on trains a few times but every time he had the trip had been enjoyable. He grimaced as one of the carriages’ wheels strayed into a particularly deep groove or pothole and jostled him uncomfortably, perhaps they should have put a little more money into the roads.

As they watched the city change around them, the wood and brick buildings gave way to the more elaborate stone block buildings and cathedrals at the center. Most scholars agree that the city of Helheim was built with the assistance of the allied Julsan people approximately a thousand years ago. Historian’s analysis of the building material’s age confirmed that the city had expanded like circles on the water from the fortress Arx-Heim, which is still the home of the emperor. Those parts of the inner city wall that remained were as ancient as the fortress itself while the aqueduct and the outer city wall seemed to have been constructed a few hundred years later, using the same architectural style. The city was divided into several Vicas or districts, each being governed by a Consul. Almost as famous as the fortress was the Clerus Magica, the magic academy though attendance was less for mages and more for the general nobility these days, and Pharos Maximus, the great lighthouse. The harbor of Helheim faced the Inner Sea to the north and was the most important trading site of the empire regarding trade with other continents. Helheim was only a shadow of its former self, but it was still a proud and stately shadow. Though like a shadow it was nothing compared to its true former glory.

Adrian looked out the window again as they pulled around the corner and the Arx-Heim came into view. “And that is our destination.” A massive structure built of stone and metal was more a keep or stronghold than an actual palace. Though he didn't doubt it would be rather palatially decorated on the inside. The emperor was known for his opulence. The towering spires and ramparts would be patrolled and manned at all times even while the emperor was not in residence.

Arx-Heim had so many lanterns and the new electric lights it could be seen all the way from the entrance of the city even on the cloudiest of nights so long as you had a straight line of sight. However even if you did have some structure between you and it, one would still be able to see the glow. Adrian gazed out at the gardens where the hedge mazes began and imagined he had seen a shape flitting back and forth in the lawn, only to realize it was simply a sculpture. Adrian sat back and took a deep breath. He could hear his heart beating, thumping, simply nervous or something worse? He didn't know, he felt his stomach tightening.

Upon the stairway leading into the keep stood a five-man guard, each in immaculately polished chest armor and the blue of the Yeomen, elite soldiers that were the Emperor’s own bodyguard. Each man carried a voltlock, a brace of pistols, and a melee weapon of some sort, strapped somewhere about their body. The carriage driver opened the door and Adrian stepped out, striding down the collapsible iron footboards that the coach driver had lowered for him, the light wind tugging at the lower section of the long coat that Adrian wore so that it fluttered ever so slightly. He nodded to the Yeoman captain, who made himself known by taking a step forward to receive him, and then looked back, offering his hand to help Isi down from the carriage.

She didn't need a hand to get down, but it was only proper for a man to help a woman out of a carriage. Adrian had told her this, and many other etiquette rules during the past week, and though Scraeling she had grasped onto the matters of propriety and image quite easily. She took his hand gracefully and walked down the iron steps in a womanly demeanor when she alighted to the ground she stepped to the side right behind him in the place polite society says she should stand.

“Sir!” Adrian turned back to see the Commander of the Yeoman saluting him by pressing his hand flat against his chest, all five fingers spread over his heart. Adrian glanced at the pin on the man’s chest and saluted him back. His mangled hand spread across his chest over his heart. Doctrine could not be unobserved simply because he was no longer whole.

“Commander,” he nodded, dropping the salute, the Yeoman also relaxed and nodded back. The Yeoman captain had looked at his hand, not to see the missing digits but rather to see the identifying mark tattooed there that told all that saw it that he was a mage indeed, he was wearing a mage mantle, the blue and gold trimmed half cloak on his left shoulder, but the tattoo helped verify him as a mage.

“Sir, we were uninformed that there would be any latecomers today,” The yeoman said he was a tall man standing around six feet or so and well-built with a curly red mustache with a touch of gray and blue eyes. He was suspicious, as well as he should be. It was his job to be suspicious of all that arrived uninvited to his charge's dwelling place. Well, he would simply let the man do his job, it was no concern of his.

“Is the council in session at the moment?” Adrian asked. The man had no doubt known that Adrian was a mage as soon as he stepped out of the carriage, perhaps even before. While a normal man would have to either see the reagent box or else the mark, most Yeomen were trained to sense mages. How they did so was a closely guarded secret, one that Adrian would have paid dearly to learn. Such abilities however were not for the likes of him. They were guards to the emperor they needed to be able to counter anything and everything, as they should.

He adjusted his coat and looked down at himself, he looked presentable enough. Much more so than he had a week ago. He had on a dark blue woolen double-breasted frock that went past his knees with a gold stripe on the right shoulder, the high collar of the mantle standing up to block the wind, was draped over both shoulders along with a tricorn hat of the same color. Under the frock, an undyed set of trousers he tucked into riding boots. On his waist, he wore a longsword, one taken from his house’s armory, and across his chest held on with a bandoleer was a pistol that was almost the length of his forearm. It was Helheim's military uniform, and it hung a little on him due to a lack of weight. But they made him look more presentable by far than anything else he could have worn.

Isi had adopted dressing this past week in a more Húerga style than local Helheim fashion. She was wearing a cream-white shirt that reached mid-forearm, the cuff of which was decorated in a small amount of frill, as was the neck. Over this she wore a dark red-brown leather corset, tied tight around her midsection, as well as a pair of leather pants and riding boots, with a red and black split skirt that covered the majority of the right leg, leaving the left exposed freeing up movement. Húerga’s women preferred functionality over the more elaborate dresses of their Helheim counterparts, and honestly, Adrian thought she looked more attractive in those clothes when she felt more comfortable than when she had been struggling in the seas of cloth that made up Helheim ladies' fashion.

“Yes sir, the Consul has called a formal meeting in the west wing’s meeting room sir.”

“And is Consular Adrianus Von-Tori in attendance today?” Adrian asked he knew full well that his father was there, but the protocol was protocol.

“Yes sir, he is in attendance,” The Yeoman commander said with a nod.

“Then if it would not be too much of an interruption to their proceedings could you get a message to him for me please captain?”

“Should not be an issue, sir, might I ask what the message is?”

“Tell him,” Adrian thought for a second before a smile grew on his lips. “Tell him his son has returned and wishes an audience.” The Yeoman nodded his understanding.

“Right away sir,” the Yeoman snapped a salute and turned on his heel disappearing into the gaping maw that was the Arx-Heim palace's door. Isi turned her critical eye towards Adrian, stepping around to his front and leaning forward she pulled the collar of his uniform straight and pulled down on the hem of the mantle making sure everything was in order. Smiling, he gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, making sure to ignore the looks directed at the two of them by the remaining four Yeomen.

“Well then, this should be interesting,” Adrian chuckled, and offered Isi his arm, she promptly wrapped her arm around his and allowed him to lead her inside the palace proper where they could wait for his father out of the cold wind.