“How have I wasted my wit?”

He asked Tereves, and Tereves replied,

“Because you know where your path leads. And yet you still follow it blindly. You know three things to be true, Legosia. Your men will betray you, your king will use and discard you, and your nation will fall to those conquered by you.”

Legosia hated the man, and he had no care for the words he spoke, so he replied,

“Keep your knowledge to yourself. A soldier and scholar are opposites.”

But Tereves left him with one last haunting.

“But you are both, and yet you stifle it.”

-From the 8th Chapter of “The Remont of Elneshe”

Noviselle tapped her fingers in irritation. She stared at a singular piece of paper, trying to discern its secrets in her head.

Why would she keep something like this in her room? Think, Novi!

Arelia Mentir’s other papers were easy to decipher. They were automatons, if of a more esoteric variety. But this one design had fooled her. It lacked joints, had extensions in a million places like lines of hair, but formed a pattern that couldn’t ever pass for an automaton.

Which had to mean it was something else. But what? What kind of documents would a historian keep?

Stupid question. She’d keep anything with half a layer of dust on it….

But it wasn’t writing and it wasn’t a drawing of an object…. Which meant it had to be a map of some sort, didn’t it?

Noviselle pulled out the working map of Sanasira and its surroundings. The paper— coincidentally— was the same size.

Or not a coincidence at all.

It slid neatly over the mountain range surrounding Sanasira, showing Noviselle the complete picture. The numerous lines weren’t hairs, but pathways. Intertwining, running between Sanasira and the surrounding mountains.

Noviselle stepped back to take a complete picture. Leane had told them about those numerous chambers, were they?

Noviselle took out another one, this time annotated with the various locations the Afterburners had visited on their missions.

It took some twisting and turning, but the locations seemed to line up eerily right. Which meant, that they now had the locations to all the hidden chambers around the mountains.

The skeleton of the city had revealed itself, and it was a sprawling system that lay hidden for an entire year. Was this how the old king had been able to escape his city unmarred? And was this… where the Spear of Arneshal was actually hidden?

A knock on her door shook Noviselle out of thought. She quickly shuffled the papers into a drawer and slammed it shut. An Afterburner burst through without warning, speaking loudly.

“Countess Noviselle! Lady Arelia requests your presence at Latren immediately!” the soldier told her. He seemed a bit stiff, leaving Noviselle on guard. He had dirt brown hair, dark skin and tight muscles over hazel eyes.

“I’ll schedule a visit with some Afterburners soon,” Noviselle told him.

“Not possible, ma’am. She’s requesting your presence immediately. I’m to take you there.”

“And if I were to refuse?” Noviselle asked.

The expression on the man’s face seemed to change. There was a resoluteness there, as he clenched on of his arms beside himself. The soldier glanced discretely at the window, licking his lips before uttering the next sentence.

“I… think you should go, Lady Noviselle. The Duchess wouldn’t like to wait. It’s a very… sensitive situation,” he told her.

“Fine, but give me some time. I have work still to finish,” Noviselle told the man.

“Ah, right.”

The Afterburner left her alone afterwards. But Novi knew he’d be back. This was the politest kidnapping she’d been part of. And that meant she needed to prepare.

Noviselle brought along a knife, hidden under her vest. She grabbed a few other tools besides it and snuck them inside her clothes as well. Then she left some insurance for her safety.

If she was going to be brought to Latren regardless, Noviselle could at least find out more about the Duchess’ operations. She’d play her part of the clueless Countess, and find out what Arelia had done to the stronghold.

“Ready here,” she stepped out of the building.

The Afterburner looked nervous, eyeing her.

“If I may, Lady Noviselle?” he asked. She let him grab her, and they took into the skies.

Noviselle always hated this part of flight. The sight might’ve been impressive, but her hair whipped in the wind, and the close proximity to sweaty hallowmancers wasn’t her preferred form of entertainment.

She much preferred Planars…

****

The flight took them all too long to complete. By the time they’d finished, the sun had started to set. The red light didn’t do any favours in making Latren appear any less ominous.

Noviselle landed and stretched her legs, reaffirming her hate for flight by Afterburners. They could’ve spared a carriage for her, at least. But it was over now, and the Countess examined the structure in front of her.

Latren had seen better days, but it had also seen worse. The repairs along its walls were complete, but there were still cracks present in places, some of the railings were missing, and pebbles dotted the landscape around the building.

“Open the gate!” the Afterburner beside her called out.

Noviselle wrapped her arms behind herself, as the portcullis raised itself. Behind it stood Duchess Arelia, poised as perfectly as ever. Her grey hair was tied up in a bun, not a single strand of hair loose. Her blue gloved hands gripped each other in front of her.

Soldiers stood around her, holding spears to their sides.

“I hope the trip wasn’t too rough, Countess,” Arelia told her. Novi could feel the smile behind the façade.

She grabbed her hair, wild and wiry, giving the Duchess a pointed look.

“Not at all. It was so calming I almost fell asleep,” Noviselle told her.

“Well, come along. We’ve much to discuss,” Arelia told her.

Noviselle walked through. Just as she did, the Duchess flashed blue. Arelia turned it off a moment later, and Noviselle heard chains rattling. Behind her, the portcullis dropped, digging into the ground with a clang.

Noviselle spared a glance outside, an unnerving feeling settling into her stomach.

“Are you coming, Countess?” Arelia asked.

“…Yes.”

The path curved down into Latren proper. Arelia and Noviselle passed by several soldiers, sharpening their spears or laying about. All of them eyed her at one time or another. There was no point where the young Countess was left unobserved.

“Your men seem restless,” Noviselle told her.

“They’re preparing. All of them need to be in top shape for what’s to come.”

“What are you expecting here?” Noviselle asked.

“We’re not expecting anything, Noviselle. It’s whoever will be left here that should be. Or has the king still not explained what he is going to do?” Arelia asked.

“No?” Noviselle replied, confused.

The Duchess smiled at her, in on a secret she hadn’t accounted for. Noviselle cursed, hoping more than ever that Galeon caught her note.

“His Highness plans on launching an attack on Sanasira soon. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it. After all, I have been the one charged with leading this attack,” Arelia told her.

“You?” Noviselle asked, before correcting herself. “I mean, My Lady, I don’t think that you should abandon Latren so easily. Won’t the fortress need protecting when Ravenishtan notices?”

The Duchess nodded, leading Noviselle around more soldiers and into the walls of the stronghold. Blue light bathed the cramped and cracked walls of the structure, suffocating Novi.

“There is no doubt of Ravenishtan’s attack. They know what we’re planning, and we them. the King has chosen a Duke to take my place while I attack the city,” Arelia told her. She stopped for a moment, turning. “It isn’t Lambre, if that is what you are thinking.”

Admittedly, it had been her first thought. The King trusted him and Arelia the same. Who better to pick for the lynchpin of their entire operation.

“I will need your experience in facilitating the transfer. The timing is crucial. If you wouldn’t mind.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Arelia opened the door to her office, which she’d furnished with maps and trinkets of all kinds. She knew all too well what those maps were for. If the Duchess noticed her apprehension, she didn’t speak of it.

Instead, they spend the next several hours going through troop movements and shifts that would have to be made. Noviselle rarely handled something of that scale, but she thought she did well enough to trick Arelia.

Her interest lied less in how best to defend Latren— however— and more in the stronghold’s construction. Another exit revealed itself to her right then, and Noviselle’s eyes widened.

“You haven’t finished fixing the hole in the wall?” Noviselle asked her.

The Duchess considered it a mark against her pride, scowling at Noviselle.

“When those fools broke out Lambre, they weren’t focused on the impact they’d have on the structural integrity of the building. All but a few bricks of the wall have been replaced. And those left unchanged are hidden near the bushes surrounding us,” Arelia explained.

“But someone could crawl through there!” Noviselle replied.

“If they angle their grenades just right? Perhaps. But we can ignore it for now,” The Duchess replied.

They continued arguing back and forth about the troops until someone called for Arelia. It was some supply issue between the Planars and Afterburners that occupied her time.

“I’m sorry to leave you like this. Stay here until I return,” she ordered.

As soon as she left, however, Noviselle stood up. She wouldn’t sit around waiting to be executed. She scanned the room around her for the first time. But despite the carelessness Arelia displayed in keeping her here, she wasn’t stupid.

Most all of the compartments in the room were locked. Nothing could be gleamed that wasn’t already out in the open. Which meant there was just one way for Noviselle to go. She looked outside of the office, down both hallways where no one appeared.

With a cautionary step, she walked out of the room and down the hall, only to encounter another soldier around the corner.

“Countess, yo-”

“What are you doing hiding here?” Noviselle demanded of her.

“I wasn’t, My Lady! I was just walking towards the spires,” the soldier argued.

“Then get out of my way. Where is your storeroom?”

“T-the first floor, on the western wing. Why do you ask?”

“I’m looking for the Duchess. She said that’s where she would be,” Noviselle gave a final reply, moving as she did.

The soldier didn’t bother trying to argue against her. Once she was down a floor, Noviselle let out a breath. She’d almost been caught on her first time. She couldn’t afford a mistake like that again, and so Noviselle moved down the stairs quicker, avoiding hallowmancers as best as she could.

She turned down the hallway and searched the rooms in front of her. She searched sleeping bunks, kitchens and armouries, until finally she found the first storeroom. But what she expected to find was all too missing.

Antov damn it. Where are the firelances?

But there were only clothes. Piled high and in the red of Phasgoria. Stacks of uniforms, pieces of cloth, boots and other accessories dotted the room, with only a scant few swords and spears scattered about.

Noviselle glanced back into the hall. I can use this…

A minute later, she popped out of the room, wearing a crisp uniform fitted to perfection. Noviselle hid her hair under a cap, avoiding gazes from passing soldiers as she did. A few of them gave her suspicious looks, but glaring at them seemed to work well enough for the Countess.

Her search continued, leading Noviselle to a discovery she disdained. She rubbed a wooden support pillar at the edge of the stronghold. It was chipped enough to warrant fixing, except no one seemed to care to do it. The support beam was instead fixed with false materials, that crumbled underneath a basic touch.

The same repeated for other pillars dotted around the base. She saw walls cracked, pickaxes lying beside them like it was normal. People moved around like it was normal, leaving the weaknesses unfixed. That only led her to one conclusion.

It’d been done on purpose. They were weakening Latren for the oncoming fight. There, they wanted it to fall, and made some assurances towards that end. It disgusted Noviselle, but she could address it another time. She tucked her cap back on her head instead, walking away from the scenes.

Searching the other storerooms did her no favours, and she grew annoyed with them. Where are they hiding the firelances?

She clicked her tongue in annoyance, watching as another group of soldiers curved around her. She glanced at them as they passed by, saluting and muttering.

Why the looks… Is it because…

“You there, stop!” Noviselle told the group.

They immediately froze and turned around, facing the short countess.

“Where have you put the firelances?” she ordered them to reply.

“In the eastern wing, hallowed one!” One of the men replied.

“Good. You can go now.”

And they left just like that, only hurrying a little bit faster than usual. Novi had been right. To them, the only way she could’ve held such a haughty glare would be if she was a hallowmancer. No usual soldier, not of her height or build, would ever look that way otherwise.

Now, she just had to carry that act with her all the way to the other room. Noviselle hurried along the hallways, spotting Arelia out of the corner of her eye. The woman was stuck out in the middle of the stronghold with her powers fully active. The blue beacon of energy sparking off of her made her a hard target to ignore.

But ignore, Noviselle did. She moved along into the eastern wing, finally finding the firelances stored up all at once. They weren’t strapped to the spears yet, laying in neat rows in the wooden crates.

I’ll need a distraction. Rolled up rope and flint and steel gave her an idea. Noviselle left the room with more firelance cartridges stuffed into her room, stepping along quickly through the path she came.

Nervousness overcame her, as she looked for the rough area where Lambre had been kept. She’d asked Arelia about it, but finding it was another matter. Thankfully, following the path of beaten up scenery helped her, and Noviselle arrived at a particularly fresh looking portion of the stronghold.

She didn’t bother looking for other soldiers, quickly ducking down as the timer in her head rang down by the second. Noviselle placed the firelance charges there, lighting them with the flint and steel. Then she ran away, hiding in a room close by.

3….2….1… and a boom shook the stronghold. Noviselle squirmed, annoyed at the slight mistiming. But only a moment later, and a larger explosion sounded off, this time further away. She smiled, hoping they’d go for the larger bait.

Noviselle popped out of the room to smoke and dust. She held a cloth up to her face, moving through the torn wall and splintered wood. The countess slipped out of there, breathing in the fresh air outside of the stronghold.

Noviselle threw the cloth to the side, and then she began to run. She crossed the open area surrounding Latren, diving into the woods without abandon. The thick musty air of the forest made her take heavy breaths, as sweat poured out of her body.

But Noviselle didn’t stop. Even a moment’s hesitation would be capture at the hands of Arelia’s men. And she feared that they wouldn’t sit her down for a nice talk afterwards either. If only Galeon were here!

She felt anger towards the man, but not enough to overcome the pity. Her thoughts drifted over to him, her only friend, and guilt overcame her. She’d always wanted him to take battles more seriously, hadn’t she? Shouldn’t she be glad that she had a trustable Afterburner now?

But that trust came at the cost of a friend. It was the same cost extracted of rulers and their countries, she supposed. Crossing rocks and ponds of water, she considered the dilemma. King Selerin himself must have lost many more friends than Noviselle could name. She’d never envy the throne for it.

Noviselle tripped over a rock hidden under the cover of darkness. She fell, rolling over on the ground and dirtying her clothes. Grunting, she tried to pull through the pain, only to fall back into thought.

Emile would’ve caught that. But Emile wasn’t here to guide her anymore. She’d have to do it herself.

Noviselle peeled herself off of the flooring of the forest, only to see critters crawling in her direction. They passed by her, and Noviselle looked to their source. There, hidden barely under the cover of leaf green and dark blue, stood a figure that Noviselle recognized all too well.

An inhuman face of metal scrutinized her. Noviselle froze in fear of the unmoving visage, horrified by the unnatural shape of metal. She’d only seen it once before, in the documents that Galeon had recovered.

The automaton flung a chain at Noviselle, one she barely avoided with a lunge. She started running again, fear carrying her legs further with every stride. Behind her, she heard the rattle of those same chains, as they embedded themselves into a thick tree.

Noviselle let out a shrill scream, continuing her movements. But then another automaton appeared out of the forest, throwing a net that whiffed over her head barely.

More and more metallic steps joined in, until Noviselle found herself being chased by what she thought was an army. She’d never confirm, in fear of clamping up. She only kept running forward, leaving behind mossy rocks, bushes and plants.

The chain came for her again, and Noviselle jumped out into a clearing. She made a mistake, though, as the ground ahead of her sloped downwards. Noviselle tried to land gracefully, but ended up tumbling down the hill instead. She rolled right into a puddle of water, hair wet and covered in dirt and branches.

She huffed out, breath frosting in front of her. Her damp clothes sapped the heat from her body, and she felt more lethargic with every inhale. Noviselle dared to look up despite that, and saw Leane standing atop the hill.

She wasn’t wearing her normal dresses. Instead, she was wrapped in clothing of a Ravenishtani style. Tight and form fitting, it was made for a soldier at work. She had her hair wrapped behind her as well, and bore a glare in her emerald eyes.

“You damned Ravenishtani traitor…” Noviselle spat a mouthful of puddle water in front of her.

“I’m not Ravenishtani, Novi. You know that,” Leane replied. The bob in her voice was gone, replaced with a metallic quality not unlike the ones of her automatons. Only Noviselle knew, that was her real voice. How had they ever been tricked?

“Then you’re worse. Some third party that neither side wanted involved!” Noviselle insulted her.

“Third party? You’re the invaders. You and those Ravenishtanis!” Leane talked back to her.

“Then who are you working for, Leane? What is your goal?”

Leane looked as if she was about to answer, only for her to turn away instead.

“Grab her,” she ordered her automatons. The human faced monsters moved to take Noviselle, only for her to be snatched by someone else instead.

At first, she didn’t even know who it was. But the blonde hair and red jacket told her all.

“What took you so long?” she asked Galeon.

“I thought I heard murder in the forest,” Galeon replied. He wasn’t smiling, scowling instead at their former friend.

Leane didn’t look any happy about Galeon’s appearance, as opposed to Noviselle.

“How did you know she’d be here?” Leane asked him, annoyed.

“We’ve kept track of each other ever since we found out you hid information from us,” Galeon told her. His voice sounded more resigned than angry.

****

“The king will be expecting me back soon. More talks with medicine workers and nurses, I think. Goodbye for now, both of you,” Leane quickly rushed out of the room she was in. She left Galeon and Noviselle in silence. Neither of them spoke for a long moment after. Though he knew it was wrong, Galeon hoped she wouldn’t bring it up.

“…You heard what she said, right?” Noviselle asked him. He rubbed at his eyes.

“Yeah… Why did she call them Soulweavers, Novi?” he asked. He placed his elbows on his knees.

“It’s a Ravenishtani word.”

“She was in a hurry… she must’ve forgotten the right one!” Galeon reasoned. He didn’t want to lose another friend. He couldn’t.

“Even after everyone around her calls them by their actual name? Something isn’t right, Leon.”

Galeon turned towards the window in a huff.

“She isn’t a traitor. She can’t be!”

“I want it to be a slip up as much as you. But we can’t ignore the possibility…” Noviselle replied.

He wanted to argue further against implicating Leane. But Galeon struggled to bring an argument.

“What are you going to do to her, Novi?”

“Nothing. She’s under the King’s protection. We're the ones who are going to need to be more careful from now on,” Noviselle told him.

****

“You’re a better actor than I gave you credit for, Leon,” Leane complimented him. Somehow it hurt more than an insult.

“That talk in the stables afterwards. Was that a lie too, Leane?” he asked her.

“You of all people should’ve understood, Leon. I thought you would come around to see how pathetic this war really is. Give up on fighting afterwards,” Leane told him. She didn’t dare answer his question.

“You lied to me. Me, Novi, Emile and Isil! I’d never follow someone like you!” Galeon replied.

“You’re just a pawn of your country, Leon. They didn’t care for Isildan. And they certainly didn’t care for Emile!”

“But you did! You could’ve prevented their deaths, couldn’t you?”

He left the daughter of Elneshe speechless. In a swift motion, Leane raised a single hand; chopping it down towards them both.

From above, Galeon and Noviselle heard the sound of arrows being notched. Metal arrowheads gleamed in the light of the moon. Before the incoming volley hit them, Galeon slid away. Not fly, but slid across the grass like it was ice.

Leane grew further in their sight as they blasted along the ground. But she didn’t stop glaring at them all the while. Noviselle only let herself breathe a sigh of relief when they were well out of sight of her automatons as well.

“Now, we have to deal with a lying, scheming Necromancer too,” Noviselle lamented.

“Is she working for the same people as Retruv?” Galeon asked.

“No… I don’t think so. I’d be less than eager to believe a falsehood from her again, but she seemed sincere.”

“A fourth faction?” Galeon guessed.

“We can only hope not. Two is too many. We’ll have to tell His Highness about her as well,” Noviselle complained.

“We’ll take her down as well, Novi. For Isil and Emile,” Galeon reiterated.

He did that often these days. It made her uncomfortable with Galeon at times. But for once, she agreed.

“For both of them.”