In all my time doing anything, it was hard to think of a bigger mess than what I was in now.
It was impressive, in a way, just how badly everything had gone off the rails during that dance. And it wasn’t just my own failings, though that was definitely a part of it, but all the stuff which had blindsided us as well. The guard was compromised, the Temoif got away, and they’d even somehow sussed out who I was from that brief time in the library.
As I stared out my window at the unending chasm below me, I had to admit that the whole situation was a little [fubar]. Even where they’d taken me had been a surprise, and it wasn’t a place I thought I was liable to be found.
After the initial toast, Lord Agos had ordered me taken away immediately, and the guards who’d appeared had wasted no time in carrying me into some hidden staircase leading deeper into the mountain. We’d climbed countless stairs in our descent before emerging into spacious caverns and underground tunnels brimming with shattered lanterns, decayed doors, and abandoned guard stations. From then on, we had plodded along in silence for half an hour before we got out of that mazebound hell.
Then we had emerged onto a narrow footpath into yet another hidden wonder of the capital of Verol, into a glittering world long forsaken by the surface. Massive ravines split the earth under the city, seemingly a half mile high and intersected with their fellows by the half dozen, stretching far off into the dark murk or disappearing around far bends of rock and stone. Lanterns the size of houses hung from the walls and the sloping overhangs, some few still lit with the crystalline light of an underground star, illuminating the various plateaus, cliffs, and arches of the caverns. Mountainous formations of limestone and of overgrown reflecting crystal clusters drooped perilously overhead, looking more like god-carved spears thrust down from the ceiling than stalactites. Below our feet the darkness held dominion, the depths of the ravines unknown in its abyssal twilight except for the barest of pinpricks of light far, far below. To me, it looked as though the ravines and holes connected with the uppermost layers of whatever hell inhabited the centre of this planet.
But yet, civilization at one time had thrived here. Along the narrow cliffs, precipitous drops, and soaring arches of the caverns were roads, bridges, and buildings built into the stone. They were like the city above in their design, with sweeping arches and doorframes sourced of limestone and marble instead of wood and with roofs of dark grey tiles. Along the paths, thick diagonal pillars erupted periodically from the path to lean against the slopes and roofs, and an old bronze fencing flanked the ravine side. The roads were long and winding, with switchbacks that resembled the city above in design.
Markedly, the whole place was abandoned, except for the one small manor on a bridge in the middle of the city where I now made my home.
It seemed a little silly to me, at first, that an entire underground city sat beneath Verol with no one using it, but on second thought I found that it made sense in the context of the little history I’d learned. Long ago, the dwarves and the Veroline (or rather, the ‘Lmeri’) were supposedly great friends, and these massive ravines were a perfect spot for a trading post between the two races. I wasn’t sure of why it was abandoned, though the lack of any kind of dwarf sighting seemed to imply the squatty little things were on the decline.
Even in this situation, I had to chuckle at myself. I’d very much doubted the existence of the dwarves even still before this, even after Gideon’s stories of meeting them. This ravine however, was pretty solid proof in my mind of their existence, despite all the other possible explanations. In my head, dwarves dug good holes after all, and this certainly constituted a grand hole.
But the great debate over dwarves was a lesser concern in comparison to my current situation.
Not only content to be cleverly hidden under the city either, the manor was also well defended. At least twenty guards stalked its premises, all led by a thaumaturge by the name of ‘Caldor’. It was obviously used as a staging ground of some sort as well, as I had seen dozens of crates of weapons and armour from Brepoli stacked in rooms when they brought me in. To me, it looked like a rebellion in the making.
Even worse, I couldn’t see a way for the others to even know where I was, and even if they did I wasn’t sure they could break me out. It looked like the Temoif had a lot of money and men behind them after all, so would getting me out truly be in the realm of possibility for even Andril? He might even take after his father and figure my rescue to be too politically costly to attempt. He could even just hand me over as a favour in return for continued peace.
At the very least, my quarters here were satisfactory. Well-maintained walls, a window to the ravine, solid wooden furniture, a bookshelf filled with books, and -so far- good food all spoke to a hospitality I hadn’t quite expected from my captors. I didn’t know if this came from Saphry’s status as a princess of Summark or from my ‘Lmenli mage’ nonsense, but it was certainly better than I had expected.
Though, if I were to complain about anything, it would be the two metre mirror standing in the corner of the room. It was bolted to the wall and flush with the wood, nor was there anything tall enough to block it.
It was probably a strange holdback, but I still hadn’t truly looked at myself since the very first day. It just didn’t seem right anyway, what with it not being my body and everything, so I had tried to avoid it as much as physically possible. The only exceptions came to be brushing hair and the minimal makeup Marcolo had enforced, but even that was done reluctantly.
A knock on the door woke me from my dark thoughts, and I turned just in time to see a man dressed in a long red tunic with a silver trim that went down to his knees. He had long black hair tied behind his head, sharp brown eyes, and carried a gnarled white stave in his right hand. He was flanked by two guards and a younger guy wearing a similar tunic. enter the room. Evidently my powers were thought to be stronger than they actually were.
“Good evening, Miss Astrian.” His voice was surprisingly kindly for a military commander.
“Is it evening already, Mr. Caldor?” It was hard to tell the passage of time underground, so I had no idea how long I’d been down here now.
“More or less.”
The man dismissed the other two guards as he sat down at the table next to the bookshelf, while the younger guy remained standing by the door. I ignored his gesture to join him, continuing to stare out of the window instead.
“The tunnel air is surprisingly crisp, isn’t it?” From the corner of my eye I could see his hand idly drawing arcane symbols into the table, a faint red glow following his fingers. “It’s nothing in comparison to the mountain cities of man, of course, but it’s not something you’d expect to find down here. The Dwer were very meticulous in ventilation.”
“What do you want?”
“It seems the guards were not kidding when they spoke of your forwardness.”
I rolled my eyes. What did they really expect? Being kidnapped and taken far away from one’s Gideon and friends wasn’t really that conducive to a positive mindset.
“I’d be happier if I had my dragon with me.” I said. “Or even better: you let me go.”
“I think you know why we can’t do that.” He said. “You’re very important, Saphry. The Lmenli of Ice could be a great step towards solving Verol’s problems, without all the nasty side effects a war has.”
Ah, so it was the weapon option then, wasn’t it? At least they had the common courtesy to attempt to propagandise me first.
“I’m not really much of a thaumaturge, if that’s what you want.” I said truthfully. “I’m not sure what you think I can do, but annihilating armies isn’t really something self teaching will get you.”
Perhaps if I were at my Earth level and I was against armies of closely packed unarmed mudanes I could do fairly well, but in a world inhabited by spellcasters I was kind of useless. Saphry had less resistance and they probably had more experience and classical training than I did. The only advantage I did have was the ice element, and even then it came with the damning caveat that I couldn’t cast most of the spells they’d developed here.
“Annihilating armies?” He laughed. “It appears I’ll have more to teach you than simple spells.”
I snapped my attention back to the man. Even the other guy by the door seemed a little surprised at his boss’s statement.
“Teach me? You can’t mean…”
“Saphry, how much do you know of the largest threat to Verol? To Summark?”
“Only that they like kidnapping girls and asking them cryptic questions?”
He waved away my jab dismissively.
“Not these political adventures. The real threat.”
Huh, I didn’t normally count assassinations and treason as ‘adventures’.
“The… giants?” I tried, wanting him to keep talking. Perhaps he could spill something a little more useful for me. “Are you not working under Lord Agos? Why would he care for something like that?”
“Lord Agos wants the best for Verol, Saphry.” He chuckled. “The fate of the east affects everyone, after all.”
I snorted.
“The best for Verol? I’m not sure I agree that assassination, kidnapping, and rebellion is really the best for the kingdom…”
“You knowing any magic at all is fighting against the king.” He pointed out. “But that is an entirely political matter, unrelated to you. The Evandal’s have survived countless rebellions, assassinations, and invasions over the Age of Ice, and Lord Agos has assured the survival of their line even now. The line of Evandal will remain unbroken, and a new Lmeri forged. You, however, have a different destiny to fulfil. Summark, nay, all of Elys will need you if we are to weather the storm which swept over Falia, Tresti, and now us. A storm has arisen in the east, and it now falls to us to quell it.”
What did that even mean? Would they remain on the throne as puppets for legitimacy’s sake? And all this about the threat that destroyed Tresti? I’d always assumed that some hostile nation had just conquered the region from how everyone had spoken about it, but he was making it sound like the nation was just obliterated and killed. Just what kind of threat hung over Summark?
“So, Saphry. Will you save Summark?”
…
In the suffocating darkness of the winter storm, Gideon almost couldn’t believe that it was only midday.
The wind was loud in his ears as he flew over the city, and snow flurries shot into his face as he scanned for the correct house. He had flown through this city countless times in the two days since Ryder had disappeared, and even the tempestuous heavens couldn’t steer his course now.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
A glimmer of lantern light, distinguishable by the dull red fire, flickered in a house far below, and the drake redirected towards it. Soaring past spires and pockets of swirling winds, it was only but a moment before Gideon had landed on the window sill, unfeeling to the chill of the outside.
Inside, four people argued. Three of them, Fredrick, Auro, and Breale, lay about the table in varying degrees of solemn regret, while Andril paced up and down the length of the room. Finding the wind too strong to hear anything, the drake pecked at the glass, startling the one sitting closest.
“You can’t just appear like that, Silst.” Breale whispered as she opened the window. “It scares the light outta me.”
Gideon ignored her and sat down on the table in front of her.
“We can’t go any further with the senate.” Fredrick rubbed his eyes, seemingly uncaring for the drake’s appearance. “The well has been poisoned against us. Lord Agos has all too tight a grip on their passions as of late.”
“Pitching traitors, the lot of them.” Andril cursed.
“Where did this man even come from?” Auro asked, lifting her head from the table to reveal tired eyes. “In seventeen years, I’d barely heard of Ostip except for history, let alone of any charismatic merchant baron who can sway the hearts of the senate.”
“Apparently he was a lost heir of the Agos family who was found after the plague wiped out the rest of them last year. Not that I’ve heard of their estates before.” Fredrick said. “He turned the barony around and came to serve in the senate since he didn’t have any remaining family to send in his stead. As you can see, he’s gathered up quite a following since then.”
“Esiland’s law bringing up the best for our society once again.” Breale murmured.
“He certainly came up at the worst time.” Andril spat. “He could’ve been a pitching republican before he took over for all we know.”
They were still talking about that? Gideon had to suppress a roar of frustration at the prince's group. Did they not care? Had they already thrown away their friend so recently lost?
“I think Silst wants to know about Saphry.” Auro suddenly said.
“Silst?” Andril turned and appeared to finally notice the drake. “I didn’t notice you came in.”
“We’ve found nothing,” said Fredrick. “But dust and conspiracy. Agos, or at least I’m assuming it were him, took her to someplace I can’t even begin to guess. We’ve checked the warehouses, the palace and its dungeons, and everything under the Star’s embrace, only to find nothing. For all we know she could be out of the city by now, sold to slavers or biding her time as a political pawn against Summark.”
Gideon growled.
He knew the situation looked bleak, and that it was probably impossible to find him now, but the sound of Fredrick’s resignation struck him as a depth he didn’t dare sink to. For he knew that the day he entertained the idea of Ryder being gone forever was the day he stopped trying to return back to Earth, to his family and friends.
“Nonsense!” Breale cried. “I’ve never known you to be the bearer of the depressive, brother. Andril still stands out of prison, doesn’t he? If we put our heads together there’s no way we can’t find her and convince everyone of Agos’s crimes!”
“I simply state the obvious, sister. The only reason Andrils stays with us is royal privilege and the Star’s mercy. To think that we could find Saphry, or even convince the senate with her testimony…” He shook his head as another burst of flurries blasted against the glass. “...No, it’s madness. Agos has them too firmly attached to his word. Verol will be lucky to escape without a coup of personality at this point.”
Gideon glared at the swordsman, wanting more than ever the ability to telepath to others aside from Ryder. So many languages of choice words he had to choose from…
“And I hate to agree with the melancholic, but my family bids me return to Minua.” Auro added. “I am already several days past the date of departure. Well, actually we all are.”
“I bet recent violence has not helped that either.” Fredrick said. “But you’re right. We should be leaving soon as well, lest we miss the opening ceremonies.”
Gideon leaped to his feet, arching his back as he snapping towards the blonde traitor.
Opening ceremonies! How could anyone care about something as inane as school when your friend was rotting in some obscure dungeon, or worse! He could be dead for all we knew, and Fredrick was worrying about being late for class!
“You speak too cowardly, brother.” Breale said slowly, none too pleased herself. “I’d suggest you silence your talk of flight. Leaving in the middle of this storm would be horrid, in any case.”
“And yet, it might come to that if we stay longer.” He responded, unmoved by the display. “Andril might be forced to flee with us to Minua if the senate’s investigation continues as it is.”
“My family would certainly offer you refuge.” Auro added. “Or at least, I’d be able to convince him to for a while.”
“You want me to run? From my own capital?” Andril stared daggers at the two, causing Auro to flinch. “That would only prove the allegations to the city, and perhaps even to my own family. I will not besmirch the Evandal’s honour like that.”
“Staying would mean your execution.” Fredrick pressed. “And the collapse of Verol. Do you think the dukes and counts will just look past their dead wives, sons, and fathers? I already hear whispers of the Evandals losing the Will of Celrion. Surviving is the best way to preserve Elendri’s-”
“Don’t you dare tell me what’s best for my brother.” Andril interrupted, a low threat to his voice.
“It’s not just the Veroline who stand to lose here, Andril.” Fredrick said. “All the lmeri will wither if Summark falls, and our Shield needs a politically stable king if they are to focus on that defence. There are no more positions between the Arguin and the eastern Pale Mountains which can hold. Brepoli, Dou-Burgund, and Mistre all rely on us, whenever they show appreciation for that or not.”
Scenes of burning villages and of giant, stoney pillars flashed through the drake’s mind as he spoke, of wing-filled skies and of empty fields drenched in the blood of the fallen. And then, of the clearer image of the gala, of the bodies calling out for mercy.
Gideon sat back down, chastened by the visions. Were those Silst’s memories of the east? Of Tresti? He’d known from fairly early on about the giants and their armies who destroyed those nations, but he’d never seen anything about Silst being there while it happened. And why now?
“Which is why we must nip this in the bud now, prove the legitimacy of my line!” Andril slammed a fist down onto the table. “We truly will lose the Star’s Will in the people’s mind if I leave!”
“Only for the short term, why can’t you see that?” Fredrick shot up from his chair and gestured out the window, where lightning arced through the snowbound clouds high above. “More is at risk here than your stupid sense of honour! Are you too selfish to even see that?”
“Guys, let’s calm down.” Auro said.
The two nobles glared at each other for a tense second, their hand on their swords as if they were about to duel. Fire crackled before Andril’s eyes, matched only by Fredrick’s shimmering chill.
“We can’t leave until this storm’s passed anyway.” Breale added. “We might as well do what we can in the meantime.”
At his sister’s words, Frederick took a deep breath and sat back down, and only after did Andril step back.
“I suppose you’re right, sister. But what could we even do? Andril’s already presented our evidence to the council, and it’s not enough. If we had Saphry to give testimony against him now that she’d been kidnapped, we might have a chance, but she probably isn’t in the capital anymore…”
Gideon shook his head to clear his thoughts. Breale was right, in that no one could leave the city for what was looking like a few more days in any case. Ever since the storm had rolled in the night of the gala, the gates had been turning away travellers in fear of the snow and ice, so nobody had been able to-
The drake’s head shot up. Of course!
He nudged Breale’s arm and jerked his head towards the window.
“What’s up, Sil? Want to go back out?”
He gnashed his teeth and shook his head wildly before pointing towards the clouds with his tail. The storm! Understand, you idiots!
“You think… we should head home?” Breale asked. “What are you…”
Gideon closed his eyes and sighed. There had to be a way to use telepathy with other people, right? There was no way the dragons entreated with dwarves and kings through charades, after all.
As a thought popped into his mind, Gideon backed up and began carving some runic letters into the table with his claw.
“Hey! That’s Arguin rine!” Fredrick stood up faster than he had when he was fighting with Andril. “Breale, stop him!”
“Shh, Red, he’s writing!”
They watched as Gideon carved out his thoughts on the table, even Fredrick reluctantly coming around to see.
“He’s right.” Auro finally said. “They couldn’t have taken her out of the city yet, not in this snow. That means we still have a chance!”
“It doesn’t mean much.” Fredrick cautioned. “She could be anywhere in the city, and this is the largest city north of Fahnporte.”
“Come on, where’s your spirit? Saphry’s in trouble, and we need to save her!” Breale said.
“Saphry’s always in trouble.” Fredrick said.
“And that doesn’t change a thing.” Breale crossed her arms and matched eyes with the swordsman. “We’re the ones who put her in harm’s way, so it’s our duty to get her out of it. And this is the perfect chance to strike back at that bastard, prove to the senate that Lord Agos is not as saintly as he seems!”
“It could be our only chance.” Andril sat back down and leaned back as another burst of wind blasted against the glass. “I’ll help, of course. Though it still confuses me why they took her in the first place. It seems like such an unnecessary risk to me. Surely me, Auro, or even one of you two would’ve been better pawns to kidnap? Pissing off the Markee should be the last thing on anyone’s mind.”
“‘Even’?” Breale asked.
Gideon looked away, conflicted, only to find that Auro was doing the same.
Of course, she and Fredrick had been there the night of the haunted house raid. So they would suspect the real reason they took Saphry was not for her connection to Andril, but because of her magic. Which meant that they might in turn suspect that their claim of a ‘lmenli mage’ to have some kind of merit. Gideon was at least sure that was why she was taken.
At the very least, they seemed to be keeping quiet about it all. Perhaps the pact Saphry had asked of Fredrick had counted for more than Gideon had assumed, or maybe was magical in nature.
“A pawn in Summark is not to be underestimated.” Frederick said. “If they were to desire it, they could easily raise up an army both larger and more experienced than all of the rest of Verol combined. It is only the desire for a strong border and ongoing support that has kept Veroline rule of law in the east. Any sort of pawn that could be used to control us would be valuable asset to someone planning a coup.”
“Of course, I’m sure every Summarkan is told that constantly from birth.” Andril rolled his eyes. “But that only makes her kidnapping a stranger affair. Surely they wouldn’t risk their ire by threatening the Markee with her death or continued imprisonment? But what other reason could they have to take her?”
Auro looked up towards the party and seemed to steel herself to speak, only to stop when Gideon shook his head violently. They had an inaudible, untelepathic conversation for the next few seconds.
Come on, don’t tell them about her using magic! Gideon tried to convey.
Even now? But it might be important!
Even now! Just don’t tell them! Frederick hasn’t, so don’t you mess it up!
Alright, I understand.
They both nodded at each other in finality, only to realise that everyone else was staring at the two.
“Are you… alright?” Breale asked. “Is this just something everyone does with Silst, or are you and Saphry just both weird?”
Auro blushed.
“I was just… thinking…eh…about Silst’s bond with Saphry.” She fell down a little in her chair in embarrassment. “He always seems to know where she is, you know? Maybe he can tell when she’s close.”
Everyone stared at her sceptically for a few seconds before Breale poked the drake in the flank.
“Can you do that?”
Gideon thought for a moment. It actually wasn’t completely wrong to say that he could sense Ryder. He could only telepathically talk to him if he was in a small range the size of the gala hall after all, and it was incredibly obvious whenever his communication actually went through. If he were to just fly around and constantly attempt to contact him, he could narrow down the area where they’d taken him to just a few buildings. In fact, with how narrow the levels were in the capital, he could probably just sweep down the main roads and check entire sections of the city in no time.
Smiling in his draconic way, the drake nodded.
“Truly?” Andril asked. “Then this might even be possible.”