Chapter Eighty-One

Dangerous Priorities

Sarah looked over the top of her book just in time to see the bookcase raise again and she muttered, “Amekot really went over the top with this...”

Not five minutes before, when everyone was sat in the dining area, Sarah took her own folder and meandered away from the table. She walked in the direction of the crops, passing between the bakery and the tavern and stopped in the shade of the buildings.

Her folder read:

Miss Robinson,

Your task is simple. I need you to trail Paladin Williams, and by no means is he allowed to know you’re following him. The only detail of his mission that you are authorised to know, is that he is gaining access to the Priority Archives by my permission. You are assigned to be his protection detail, but it is imperative to the nature of his assignment, that he knows nothing of your involvement.

Of all those assigned, his mission will likely incur a reaction from the saboteur, and as such, will require a level of protection whilst he is on assignment. Report any suspicious sightings you gather once the Paladin has left the Priority Archives.

Good luck, Archangel.

Five minutes later, Sarah waited for the librarian to turn away and she pulled off the beanie she’d borrowed from Sidney, letting her very noticeable hair down once more and stepped briskly passed Dolores’ desk.

She quickly inspected the rest of the library to find it as silent as the grave and wondered exactly why Amekot thought Michael would be in any danger. She pulled the appropriate book out of the wall, after having seen Michael do it, and nervously watched the back of Dolores’ head as the bookshelf lowered into the floorboards.

Sarah stepped over the gap and pulled the lever once more, raising the shelf and sealing herself away. She slid the book into the only empty slot on the backless shelf and then slipped down the ladder, hoping Michael wouldn’t be at the other end.

It was a bizarre feeling. She trusted Michael. And she knew there was a darkness in him, but not one that caused concern to good folk. Sarah would’ve bet hard coin that Michael had no never in his life acted on cruelty alone.

As she crept down the dark stone tunnel, Sarah thought surely if he knew about her mission, he could do his with a little more ease. But still, her own dark curiosity one out and she didn’t call out or make herself known. Sarah laid her hand on her sword as she approached a steel door slightly ajar and glimmering with firelight. She moved slowly so her boots wouldn’t echo on the rock, and peered around the entryway to see Michael, sitting on a central table, bolt upright with light radiating from every vein in his neck and face, and two spheres of pure starlight sitting in his eye sockets

Sarah glanced around the rest of the room and her eyes widened with shock as they landed on the Legacy Profiles cabinet. She glanced at Michael again and tapped the metal door with her knuckles. The sound resounded gently through the room, but Michael didn’t stir from his enchanted state.

Sarah entered the room fully and looked around, glancing back to Michael every so often. His eyes swirled with light, like sun-touched crystals and a spider-web of veins could be seen slightly through his white shirt.

The room was small, perhaps only ten good paces from one wall to the other, and there was clearly no one else hiding in amongst the scrolls.

After a long minute, Sarah sighed and glanced back over the Legacy Profiles shelf.

“Who are you kidding…”

She grabbed the first in front of her, and a small, string-tied tag fell out, marked, Sidney P. Selene.

As Sarah unrolled the parchment, she wondered what on Draendica Amekot needed all this information on his soldiers for.

Name/Title: Quick Response Paladin-Captain - Sidney Penelope Selene

Chamber: Rageous

Arcancy Status: Confirmed Legacy – Elemental – Stone

Date of Birth: Riiday, the 12th of Sewn, 111th Cycle of the Common Era

Age: Nineteen

Nationality: Olymp – born in Rebec, Mhairia, Talisatian Empire.

Notes:

~ Was nearly fatally wounded during brief service in the Murk.

~ Close confidant of Paladin McKennedy.

~ Among the most powerful soldiers in Fort Guardian.

~ Has strong influence over at least two dozen personal, namely her Quick Response Team and fellow Rageous chamber-members.

~ Armed with a Steel Quarterstaff.

Safeguards

~ Has already consumed maximum number of Arcane Cherries.

~ Wears armour when training, but not in day-to-day.

~ Rumoured to sleep with privacy shade deactivated.

Sarah blinked and shook her head. She reread the last three lines again as though it would make the term Safeguards mean something different. But a long minute of harrowing thought, Sarah came to realize there was finite number of ways to learn details like the ones listed above.

Sarah stood and found herself growing numb. And then she felt her hand twitching. She looked down at her tight grip on the scroll and then back to the stack of others. She began digging through them with a fire lit in her stomach.

Carter Cox...Fatally loyal…Easily put off-balance when family is in danger...Limited number of weaponry...Rose Brianna Hawthorne...Innately lonely...Susceptible to provocation about Riniglacia...Easily provoked…Oliver Jacobs... Homeless outside of Fort Guardian...Traumatised by Saose attack...No class status or proof of citizenship…Aroha Arataki Oswald...Reliant on her partner...Self-conscious about Arcancy-status…Lacking relationship with blood-relatives…Nichole Huntress...Blames herself for failure...Is easily demoralised by loss...Bears firm confusion about identity…Retains sensitivity from early childhood religious trauma…James Storr Taylor...Requires friends to stay in check...Easily agitated and isolated...Bears a sense of shame surrounding his Arcancy…Shows signs of familial abuse, therefore easily manipulated with positive reinforcement-

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

By the time Sarah read James’, she felt herself rising to her feet as flames licked from her knuckles. She gritted her teeth and it was all she could do to stop herself storming out the door over to Amekot’s office and beating the life out of him, when she spotted her own name-tag in the back of the shelf.

She breathed out the worst of her fury, angrily grabbed the scroll and ripped it open.

Name/Title: Archangel/Baroness Sarah Robinson of Otylia, Daughter of Baron Philip Robinson of Otylia

Chamber: Iiryia

Arcancy Status: Confirmed Legacy – Alteration Arcancy – Adaptive Strength

Date of Birth: Arloday, the 15th of Ripen, 113th Cycle of the Common Era

Age: Seventeen

Nationality: Olymp, - born in Otylia, Arcavelot.

Notes:

~ Daughter of the Baron of Otylia and Noblewoman Nala Cox/brother to the Archangel of Fort Guardian, Carter Cox.

~ Extremely accomplished hand-to-hand combatant.

~ Has a Drakonian’s companion, by the name of Draekeniorai.

~ A limited yet notable relationship with the Talisatian aristocracy through her parents.

Safeguards

~ Can only consume one more Arcane Cherry.

~ Robinson’s sword bears a gilded edge and is susceptible to breakage. In opposition, use blunt instruments.

~ Only wears light armour, if any. Is overconfident and leads herself into avoidable danger.

~ A predictable softness for Oliver Jacobs.

Sarah looked up from the pages, horrified and confused and flushed. She glanced at Michael, still rigid in his magical state. She knew the young man would likely not stay that way for much longer and took a step toward the door, only to slow to a stop. Sarah turned and grabbed the scrolls concerning her friends, scrunched them into balls of parchment and stuffed them into her pockets. Her hands jittered and she wanted to shout or punch something, but instead bit down and crushed the rage between her teeth.

Sarah pulled open the door and a jolt of shock ran through her as she came face to face with the last person on Draendica she’d expected to see and grabbed the handle of her sword.

*****

Above ground, in the high corridors of the keep, Carter strode toward the room marked Iiryia. He pushed through the door to find the room filled with sleeping Legacies and the early light of morning, shining through its enchanted windows. The handsome boy still fumed somewhat at his assigned mission and was doing everything in his power not to run and find James to tell him about it.

Iiryia was the Gargan creator of Forgiveness and Acceptance, and though he was having a hard time in that exact moment, Carter liked to think he sometimes embodied those traits well enough. He quietly strode to his bed at the end of the room. It was so bathed in dawn light that he found himself relaxing in the warmth of it. He grabbed his empty rucksack and tried to focus on the soft sun.

According to Amekot, as useful as he would be inside the fortress, he was needed back outside of it.

Carter took his cloak off and tucked some essentials in to the bag, mumbling, “Why don’t you go scout out that damn cavern if you think it’s so important, Hillborn. You glorified babysitter.”

Carter opened his concealed wardrobe and threw his fine cloak on a hook, sweeping up a far more rugged, black hood. It was thick and warm and usually what he wore to school in Dim-Side. He threw it over his shoulders and felt the tension fall away as he pulled the cowl over his head.

Carter let his anger simmer and he sat down on his bunk, looking out the window over the fortress grounds.

A good dozen or so workers were uprooting the fields, harvesting all their crops and hauling it toward the cleaning shacks. The Arena was empty and barren. Smoke rose endlessly from the many chimneys of the Forges. Tired guards ambled across the walls carrying bows and crossbows.

Carter watched them closely before catching sight of James ambling along the walls. Carter sat up, trying to make out any inkling of what he might be doing as he began speaking to the buff Archangel, Lain, regarding his own mysterious assignment. But there was nothing for it. Carter drew out his last remaining knives. He had four in total. He’d asked Archie to make him some more, but losing so many had pained him. The ones he’d started with were heirlooms, not fortress property. He knew he ran the risk of losing them by taking them on that mission, but he was disappointed to know his luck hadn’t stuck around for that little detail. Carter spotted a shortsword leaning against his bedframe and snatched it up, strapping it to his hip.

Carter looked everywhere but at his pillow for a long moment. He remembered taking Oliver through the streets of Bright-Side and knowing exactly how close he was to home.

Finally, he cast a glance at the pillow on his bed and sighed as he pushed the cushion out of the way, grabbing the letter which was hidden underneath. He unfolded the parchment and read the words which he’d already memorised.

My dearest boy,

I heard from the guard that you came by Istol recently. Apparently, you were in quite a rush, though I still wish you had time to stop by for tea. Your father and I miss you terribly and hope you’re doing well, and we have some rather exciting news!

I’m to be organising a wedding between the sister of Queen Helena, and a young farm-hand early next cycle in the Kingdom of Haron! I’m leaving for a charter ship on the 20th of Drear, so I expect I’ll see you before then, and if you’d like to come along with us then we’d love to have you. Otherwise, you have your key if you end up coming back from ‘training’ and want to stay at home.

How is James? I saw his father in the Mid-Side markets the other day and I often-times have trouble remembering they’re related at all. He’s such a serious man and never smiles.

I also heard around the neighbour-council that Sarah was in Istol with you, towing Michael along like he was a servant boy! I won’t ask what you were all up to, because I sincerely suspect it would violate my “don’t do anything dangerous” lecture, and I’d hate to make you lie to me. I hope she’s well and that you give her my love.

Oh well, I suppose that’s all for now. Dearest, please write us. We haven’t heard from you in some time and we’re beginning to worry. You’re probably just having too much fun and letting the days tick by, which is certainly no evil thing, but we still miss your writing and your face, so see to it that we get one or the other in some short manner. Address anything you want to send to the Royal Heraldry Office in Majesty Heights.

We love you, darling.

Your Mother and Father

Carter tossed the letter back down on the bed and combed his hair back uneasily. The letter had arrived the same night he’d gotten back to the fortress, and he must’ve drafted ten replies but they’d all ended up in the same place.

Carter was sure there was a way to tell his parents that he was about to be caught in a monstrous siege, but no part of him believed they’d allow him to stay if they found out, and the last thing he needed was for his parents to get stuck alongside him. The Ahuran boy slid the letter back under the pillow and grabbed his rucksack. As he walked to the door he passed several familiar faces; Kirkley, Lillian, Syon, all dozing quietly.

Carter wondered how many would leave as soon as they could. He didn’t blame anyone. The odds of living through it were terrible, and the only thing truly keeping anyone from realising that fact was that Amekot knew what would happen if it got out. The already-shortcoming defences would get abandoned. Panic would ensue in those who stayed, and the dominoes would keep on falling.

Carter sighed and pulled open the door into the corridor and as he walked, he forced his shoulders back, his chest out, and his head up. There were very few things for certain, but one of them was that the odds weren’t going to get better if he abandoned everyone too.

The words of his assignment echoed in Amekot’s amused voice as his boots clicked on the stone floor.

Nikereus claims to want an upfront fight, but we can’t rule out the possibility of a surprise attack. Station yourself in the cave mouth and report any movement.

Carter hadn’t been there on the day of the arrival, but he suspected Nikereus was a dramatically straightforward person. He also suspected that Amekot knew that, which only stirred his anger further.

Carter stopped walking. The taste of his bitterness was growing too strong. He slowed his breathing and the voice in his head shifted. Suddenly Amekot’s smug tones fell away and the soft murmurings of his mother took their place.

He urged himself to keep walking, recalling something his mother used to say.

Sometimes having the courage to do the right thing isn’t about waiting for the right moment. Sometimes its about making the mistake that no one else was willing to make. Sometimes its about doing anything at all when everyone else is content to stand aside. Not always, but sometimes, courage is just about giving people someone to follow and trusting yourself that it was for a reason. Reminding them that being decent is not about victory or loss. It’s for its own sake.

Carter thought about that a lot. More now than ever as he walked down the halls, heading for Amekot’s busy-work mission. As he stepped into the staircase and spiralled down into the keep, Carter ran his hands along the cold stone.

He found himself praying, though he wasn’t sure who to.

Praying that somewhere soon he could find some more courage and some decency besides.