The white crenellated walls of Zelfiria shone above the residual fog banks of the valley, as modest golden rays found a chink between the dense gray clouds that wrapped themselves around the skies like cotton balls. The newly formed duo was on the cobbled road to the citadel, which continued straight to the bridge leading to its only gate, when Viryl stopped to make the detour he had proposed to Anker during the journey from Petratonna. According to him, going through the main gate was too risky because, if Radios had been around, that entrance would undoubtedly have been under his watchful eye.

“I don't think there are many alternatives,” Anker had said.

Zelfiria had been built in the natural basin of a small mountain and was protected on three sides, opening only to the south. To make the defenses of the citadel completely impenetrable, a wall had been built arching on the southern slope, ten feet thick and almost thirty feet high, which continued into the insurmountable rock walls of the basin. In the center a gate had been created that served as both a passage for visitors and a point of outflow for the torrent that flowed through the city from north to south, before throwing itself into a violent and foaming waterfall right at the center of the gap. The bridge that led to Zelfiria forked into two walkways just before the waterfall, allowing passage on either side of the three-arched gate. As far as Anker knew, apart from the main gate, there was no other way into the city.

“There would be one, actually,” Viryl had replied to Anker, as they calmly headed towards their destination.

Viryl claimed to have found a slight subsidence on the left wing of the walls that would have allowed a climb, if not exactly easy, at least doable. This breach had never been repaired because, as the area below was covered in thick brambles, it would have been inaccessible to an army in force. He himself had used that passage many times, and Radios had never been able to intercept him.

Anker had accepted Viryl's proposal without questioning it, as the fallen knight surely knew his own hometown better than him.

Therefore, at Viryl's signal, they went into the bushes. They walked for a good half hour on extremely rough and lush terrain, where Viryl made his way with a large knife he had pulled out of his bundle. There was not a trace of a path, but Viryl proceeded swiftly as if he knew every single thorn and olive tree in that dense thicket. And so, despite getting a few scratches, Anker found himself at the base of the walls without any major problems.

The climb was also quite permissive: the slope was steep, but the handholds were solid and abundant, so reaching the terrace of the walls was almost as easy as climbing a ladder. The hard part, however, had yet to begin.

Quick as a flash, Viryl set foot on the terrace and threw himself over the other side, beyond the inner battlements.

Anker, who climbed up right after Viryl, immediately noticed two guards on the lookout about a hundred yards away from him, beyond a blind spot that had hidden their ascent, engaging in small talk. Taking advantage of their distraction, he quickly cast a muffling spell on his boots and imitated Viryl's example, throwing himself down without even checking to see if there was anything below.

For the split second that preceded the fall he gave a glance to the city surrounding him, in its half ring shape, cut in the middle by the tortuous torrent, dominated by a cathedral and a waterfall to the north and a lush green park to the south, then he plunged and he landed on tiptoe, crouched, on a tiled roof, six feet down, with a slight pain in his ankles, knees and back.

Turning his head, Anker found Viryl behind him, hiding in the shadow of the city wall in the back of the roof.

“What next?” Anker asked in a whisper, as he crouched next to him.

“We go down here, then up there, we cross on that flying buttress, we reach that roof on the right sliding on that cornice, then we run, climb up that building and jump on my home’s fifth floor balcony,” Viryl explained, matching Anker’s tone of voice.

Anker followed Viryl’s gestures in astonishment, as he showed the crazy route he intended to follow to reach the palace with the green facade that Anker knew to be his home.

“I can’t do that! I'll break my neck if I try! I'm not agile like you!” Anker protested, muffling his words to avoid attracting the attention of the guards.

“For Lazul’s sake, you're a bloody wimp! Here,” Viryl retorted, handing him a vial that he kept in his belt, “It's a neurostimulant infusion that will make you more focused and amplify your reflexes. That ain’t much but it should be enough.”

“I hope you’re right,” Anker sighed, and he gulped down the potion. In a few seconds all his anxiety disappeared, and he saw before him only the next step to take to reach his destination, with a control over every segment of his body that he had never experienced before.

Following Viryl, Anker climbed down the gutter of the building they were standing atop of, ran over the roof of a two stories shop, then climbed up onto the roof of the apartment building next to it. From there they crossed the street on the flying buttress Viryl had pointed at moments before, slid along the cornice they reached on the other side, then they ran along the roofs of three buildings at the same level. At last they climbed on the worn out bricks of the lateral wall of an apartment building to the sixth floor, reached the balcony that from the side of the building went around the corner onto its facade, and there they found on the opposite side of the alley Viryl’s balcony. Viryl took a moment to calculate the distance, then he jumped. Right after him, Anker followed.

As he landed, the effects of the potion started wearing down and Anker’s thoughts began to resurface in his consciousness. He looked back to the maze of rooftops and gaps he had just crossed, and found it unbelievable he had really made it. And so fast. That was… wild. The concoction Viryl had given him, was wild.

While Anker was still pondering the athletic feat he had just accomplished, Viryl had already slipped into the house from a broken window and was beckoning him to enter.

“And now let's go to the basement!” Viryl proclaimed, spreading a smile under his white mustache and rubbing his hands together.

They went down the five flights of wrought iron stairs in the dusty abandoned building. The fifth floor was set up as a study and armory, the fourth floor had bedrooms and bathrooms, the third floor had a dining room and other rooms of unclear use, the second floor had the drawing room and the entrance hall, which was accessed via a steep external staircase, and the first floor housed the servants' quarters and what remained of the kitchens. From there, a stone staircase led down to the cellar.

All the furniture in the building was old and wormy, the faces of the portraits hanging on the walls were faded, the majolica tiles on the floors were outdated and cracked. Some sofas and tables had been covered with sheets to protect them from the passage of time, but so much time must have passed that they had failed in their purpose.

“Your family must have been rich, Viryl,” Anker observed.

“Well…” Viryl began, shrugging his shoulders, “Middle class. People who have made a little money over a couple of generations and think they can climb another step up the social ladder by sending their children to study at a prestigious Knightly Academy, like the one of the Spheres of Lazul. 'The boy is gifted,' they said. Wrong move, if the horse you're betting on is me.”

As he crossed the threshold of the cellar, Anker's nostrils were immediately wrinkled by the smell of rancidity and mold. The lighting was poor and the walls were damp and mossy. There were, scattered around without apparent order, racks with black and dusty wine bottles, moldy salami and caciocavalli hanging like decaying corpses of hanged men, shelves of cans consumed by rust and botulism, piles of rancid oil.

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“Despite the fact that this basement is disgusting, Madja and I have explored it thoroughly. I really want to see where you hid your treasure, old fox,” Anker said to Viryl, who had moved to a completely empty area of the basement. He pulled out one of the javelins from its sheath and wedged it between two bricks on the floor in a completely unsuspecting spot, where previous manipulations had left no trace, then he pried it up and lifted one. He put the javelin back in its sheath and bent down to move about ten other bricks, revealing a hole covered with sand and gravel, which he began to clear away with his hands, until he grabbed a leather bag.

“Well, whatever! We couldn't have turned over every single brick of this room!” Anker exclaimed.

Viryl was rummaging through the bag, muttering, “Here we have… fifty gold ducats, some rare alchemical ingredients and... my homing crystal!”

“Homing crystal? Are you still living in the 9th century, Viryl?” Anker asked, slightly bewildered.

“Why, what the hell would you modern knights use to contact each other and exchange messages?” Viryl countered.

Anker pulled a device out of his pocket and said, “This is a Speculum, Viryl. Even civilians use it and it has many more functions than a homing crystal. You can read books and download maps on it, for example. The only problem is that to access new information you have to be in an area with sympathionic coverage. We need to buy one on the road, or we won't be able to communicate if we get separated. No one uses homing crystals anymore!”

“A decade ago there was no such thing,” Viryl defended himself, “But well, if you think it's necessary, why not. Anyway, I'm ready, we can leave for Corlona.”

“We don’t have to retrace our steps on the roofs to get there, do we, Viryl?” Anker asked worriedly as they left the decaying basement.

“What do you think?”

“I say that if you think it's necessary, do it. I'm leaving Zelfiria through the main gate and I'll wait for you at the point where we left the road to go into the woods.”

Viryl glared at Anker with a look of abasement on his face. Anker knew he was going to say that he was a twat of something like that.

“I don’t know what kind of beef you have with Radios, but after more careful consideration it’s not my problem. I mean, even if I were to run into Radios he wouldn't know about our alliance, so he would just let me go. In any case don’t count on me running on those roofs again,” Anker continued.

Before Viryl had a chance to respond, and just as they reached the second floor, they were both gripped by a primal terror. They felt the force of an unstoppable sympathetic flow investing every fiber of their Symbjorms. Viryl lunged towards the third floor, but he had only made it halfway up the stairs when the deafening roar of an explosion followed by the sound of a large number of rocks crashing to the ground from a considerable height reached their ears.

“Filthy rat, did you think I was unaware of your vile escape routes? Come out, you have nowhere to go!” a peremptory and deep voice shouted from outside.

“That bastard blew up my balcony!” Viryl yelled. He ran down the stairs and headed towards the exit of the building, passing Anker, who remained frozen and terrified by the unprecedented power that had shaken every nerve in his body. Before opening the door, Viryl said, “Let me do the talking.”

It took a few seconds for the eyes of the fallen knight to adjust to the midday light, emerging from the shadowy ruin. Beyond the steep entrance steps, now strewn with the debris from the fifth-floor balcony, a menacing knight held him at bay.

It was Radios, the Shining Sun of Zelfiria, one of the two hundred knights of the High Table of Ferlonia, who had been entrusted with a golden Exoplion and authority over Hither Sanchiria. He awaited them cloaked in his citrine ethereal armor, and seemed ready to obliterate the two intruders with overwhelming force, sparing no single blow from his arsenal.

Viryl, as he descended the steps, facing his adversary, began, “You damn bastard, you blew a hole in my fifth floor! Are you going to send the masons to fix everything now?!”

“Silence!” Radios commanded, and with an unstoppable telekinetic force, he lifted Viryl off the ground and pinned him to the wall of the opposite apartment building.

“What did I tell you at the beginning of summer, in the last days of the month of Harvest month, you silly animal?”

“I… I don't remember… you know… you know, I would have appreciated to see your ugly mug, in the name of old times, but… but I was rather preoccupied by the fact that when you decided to pick up a fight, you had the brilliant idea of… making the entire flank of the mountain above my hut collapse, burying it… well, thankfully the sheep were… they were grazing — ” Viryl struggled to mumble with the little air he had in his lungs, his chest constricted in the inescapable telekinetic grip. He let out a few muffled chuckles, and then added with arrogance, “ — Why don't you remind me?”

Ignoring Viryl's sarcasm, Radios continued his speech, also looking at Anker, “Then, two days ago, I saw two novice knights arrive on my lands, tense as violin strings, sneaking into your residence, careful not to be caught. And I thought: 'So at the headquarters they were serious then, they've sent rookies to retrieve the Exoplions of the fallen knights... they have no hope, but let's see what happens.' And, today, here he comes Viryl, descending from his mountain accompanied by one of the pathetic brats, who carries a filthy handkerchief attached to his sword. And no trace of the Exoplion. I order you to tell me what the hell happened up there.”

“To make a long story short... it was stolen from us and the girl is dead,” was Viryl's response, straight to the point.

Upon hearing those words, Radios seemed to lose his mind. Vibrations like those of an earthquake shook the alley, and Anker was crushed face down in the lair from which he had not had the courage to emerge with the same telekinetic force that had hurled Viryl away.

“I told you the anarchists would come, that they had managed to outsmart fallen knights far stronger and more cunning than you. But you, you scoundrel, still refused to hand over your Exoplion,” Radios said, oozing with fury. Then he raised a hand to the sky and generated a ball of fire as big as a cart and of such heat that even Anker, a dozen yards away, crushed on the cold tiles of the entrance, felt his face burning. He took a few steps towards Viryl and concluded: “Now I have to kill you for real. Not even ashes will remain of you!”

“It was... it was a Fearkan who stole it... he also stole the Demetriscus stele from the Ghorou temple — ”

“So what? What do I care about that stupid slab of stone? You’re not talking to Tolomer, don’t try selling me that crap!”

“You know how important it is to me, Radios, I can't leave it in their hands... and you... you're a busy man. You don't have time to deal with this problem. Let us go, I will take back the stele, the Order will have its weapon back. You know you can trust me!” Viryl implored him, appealing to all his persuasiveness.

“I vouch for him!” Anker screamed, “I swear I will take back the Exoplion, that I will complete my mission, that in my hands the weapon will serve the kingdom!”

“You don't vouch shit, half-wit! Do you want to die too?!” Radios shouted, turning his head towards the entrance of Viryl’s palace.

“Radios, don't be a fool. You know me too well, you know that leaving the recovery of the Exoplion in my hands is the easiest choice for you!”

“This isn't a matter of convenience, it's a matter of dignity, of honor. I listened to you, I let you do your thing, and you muddied my name!”

“You don't want to kill me, Radios. And you know very well that even if we've taken different paths, I value my honor as much as you value yours — ”

Radios didn't seem to intend to prolong the agony any further: the fireball was ready, the distance optimal, all that was left was to hurl it. He raised his arm even higher, and both Anker and Viryl genuinely thought it was over. But nothing happened. Radios had stopped with his hand suspended in the air, like an automaton weighing and processing the situation. After a few moments he murmured, “Your honor died definitively with that woman, Viryl. But in the end, it's true, granting you one last chance won't cost me anything.”

As a result of this remark, the flames subsided and gathered into a solid core the size of a hazelnut. Then Radios walked up to Viryl and, guiding it with his hand, embedded the fiery core in his chest, melting the leather armor as it passed. Viryl gritted his teeth to resist the pain.

“My watchful eye will be on you, Viryl. You have two months, until the twenty-second day of Neviticus,” Radios said. Then he turned to Anker, and with a cruel laugh he added, “And if by that day you still haven't achieved anything, well... boy, I'll show you what it means to make a true Vow of Dedication and see it through.”

After this last threat, without further ceremony, Radios crossed his arms, released the telekinetic grip, and shot up into the sky, disappearing from their sight.

Viryl peeled himself off the wall and fell to his knees. He rubbed his mouth with the cuff of his right sleeve and spat a clot of saliva and blood on the ground. Then he said, “Where were we? I'd say yes, you can leave Zelfiria through the main gate. And, you know what? I think I'll come with you too.”

GLOSSARY:

Golden ducat: The coin with greatest value in the currency of the kingdom of Ferlonia. One golden ducat is equivalent to: 10 silver ducats = 100 carlini = 1200 grani = 2400 tornesi = 14400 cavalli.

Homing Crystal: A sympationic device only composed of two memory crystals and no Fuligine Stone. For this reason it can only be used by magical users. Before the invention of the Speculum, it was used to send short messages.

Golden Exoplion: A premium version of Exoplion that is granted to the highest hierarchies of knights, in Ferlonia the knights of the High Table or above. It allows the use of prime spells.