As we drifted down the tranquil waters of the city canal, even the crisp mountain air couldn’t lift me from my gloom.
The discovery that neither Gideon nor I could cast laid upon me heavily. After spending nearly a year with the grimoire and learning from its pages I could help but feel a little unpowered and weak without it. Everything was slow now that I couldn’t boost my steps with magic, and the cold chill of the air which I used to ignore seemed to settle over me like a thick blanket.
Gideon at least had the glee of flight to enjoy as an exchange, and even now he soared above the canals like a hawk. I however, had to make due as a lowly human among the waters, even as resplendent as they were.
Even in this state, I had to appreciate the beauty of the city around me. The capital of Verol was high up in the clouds, built directly into the steep cliffs and plateaus of the towering mountain whose peak lay so far above that I could not even make it out between the white sea.
Because of this height and the fact that it had to share the space with the canal, the roads and avenues were narrow beside us, with a good portion of what little room there was taken up by market stalls and booths from which strange scents and hints of conversation flowed. Some of these stalls even had openings on the riverside, and at one I could even see a gondola docked as they browsed.
Marcolo muttered under his breath as he pushed around a slower boat in front of us.
Despite the narrow canal and streets, and even despite what Saphry had said in the memory, the roads and water were not too crowded for me. Perhaps by small town standards there were a few people, and the canal had a few dozen boats pushing along it, but I couldn’t compare it to a place like Chicago. Even looking back to the dream last night I couldn’t say it was crowded then either, the thought being a figment of Saphry’s mind and not my own.
Still, that made the achievement of these waterworks all the more impressive to me, especially so when Gideon had told me they stretched all throughout the city and not just the richer areas. They just seemed too well made and maintained for something a feudal land could do, especially as one with a population as low as Verol seemed to have.
That seemed to be a constant for everything I had seen thus far as well.
The waters were blue and clean, and the rooftops and buildings reflected within were just as perfect. The roads, canals, and stout low walls that made up the lower levels of all the buildings were all constructed of angular grey hexagonal bricks that I couldn’t place, and the higher levels of the houses made way for a whitish wooden plank fashioned into arches, curves, and countless other superfluous details. The surfaces of all the houses as well were etched with hundreds of small runes exposed to the sunlight, although these were unlike the ones in my room in that they all harboured a small blue glow about them, and even in the strong daylight I could see them reflected in the water.
I could only imagine what the city looked like at night.
Of the water’s origin, this soon became clear as we drifted upon them when we began to pass the huge waterfalls that hurtled down from the clouded peaks. They didn’t quite just thunder into the canal waters itself, but into reservoirs built higher on the mountain. Looking higher, I found that it appeared as though the water was simply pushed from the sky. I couldn’t help but imagine that those unseen highlands contained untold oceans of water to throw back down upon us.
All of it almost seemed as magical as the power that I’d lost.
“You should know the right way to dress yourself by this age, for the Everstar’s sake.” Marcolo complained from the back of the boat. “And your hair! I’d thought that was the one thing you still took pride in…”
I zoned back in to give him a pained smile.
Of course, as a typical male college student, I had no more experience picking out clothes for rituals I’d never heard of than I had weaving forth a braid, so I had stuck to the basics of what I’d thought I’d known.
Somewhat unsurprisingly, my choice of pants and a hair tie had not gone over the best with Marcolo, who had demanded I march back in and redo it. Unfortunately for me, my second attempt didn't fare much better, nor had my third, nor my fourth.
By the fifth time, Marcolo had finally had enough, and been forced to help me with the whole thing, and had chosen out a coat, a beret and some boots. The skirt unfortunately had not been negotiable, but then again I hadn’t wanted to argue too much on account of not knowing how Saphry normally went out. So I told myself to think of it as a kilt instead to preserve some sense of manliness.
There hadn’t been time to do my hair either, so a simple bow holding up a small bunch in the back had stayed with a little adjustment, and we’d rushed out without even eating breakfast.
Perhaps most unfortunately, Marcolo had still managed to make me look cute.
I had been many things during my time alive, a college student, a magician, a hero by my own reckoning… but none of those things could’ve prepared me for when I had looked in the mirror one last time before we left. A piece of me had died inside as I had gazed upon my own reflection to find such an adorable creature outside the facade. If anyone from Earth were to see me like this I was pretty sure I’d immediately combust, and indeed when Gideon had started to make a comment I had thrown him into the sky.
There was a reason he was flying right now, after all.
“And now we’re cutting it too close to late, by my reckoning.” Marcolo chuckled madly. “Oh well. They’d been pushy enough for this, I’m sure they can wait yet a while longer!”
As I’d spent more time in the city, my fears of being ritually sacrificed had steadily decreased. The culture didn’t seem to be the savage type after all. Still, the threat of messing up an important ritual and facing the social ridicule for that was something I’d rather not go through.
Was it worth asking Marcolo?
One glance back at Marcolo answered that question quickly enough. Even now he muttered under his breath with such choice phrases as ‘useless girl’ and ‘beat some sense into her’.
I couldn’t help but feel like having a servant was scarier than I’d imagined.
After a few minutes of travel, Marcolo finally steered us around a bend into a more palatial district. Here the buildings were entirely stone with massive dull red glass windows embedded, with high square towers periodically reached above like spears piercing the sky. A huge plaza was carved into a plateau, and on a cliffside overlooking the valleys a massive cathedral stood.
The church was neither as absurdly massive or as gothic as I would’ve expected, though I’m not quite sure why I expected it to be either of those things. Instead, it was a simple construction in line with the rest of the city built roughly in the shape of a giant plus sign. Like the rest of the city, the walls were set up with periodical pillars of stone on the side with the same sweeping arches and wooden lattices holding them apart. The roof was built of the same flat red shingles as well, even now holding small piles of snow.
Near the front entrance a small crowd had gathered with colourful banners with strange devices upon them. The most prominent of such was that of a red four pointed star over a pure white field. The star was made up of four thin rhombuses whose points met in the middle. At least twenty people stood under this flag, half of which were equipped in full suits of chain and plate and armed with swords and oval shields. Their helmets they held in their shield arm, and they seemed more at ease than I would’ve imagined for a group of soldiers.
Most noticeably in this group however, was the black haired aristocrat standing among them. He was half a head taller than Saphry and held himself with an air of confidence, the very picture of a noble made flesh. His face was fair and his features sharp, and his short hair was cut over his eyes.
“So the rumours were true then.” Marcolo said, gazing off in the same direction as I. “Prince Andril’s being sent to Minua as well.”
As well? That couldn’t be good.
“To the same place as me?” I asked, taking a small risk.
“I wouldn’t know, I think.” Marcolo went back to tying up the boat. “I didn’t think the princes were wont to attend the academy, but with how the news had flown recently…I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Academy? Immediately alarm bells began flying around my head as Marcolo uttered that ominous word. I had just escaped the cruelty of organised education! And I was already to be sent off to another? I had assumed some sort of private tutor situation to develop, for sure, but an academy? That was just cruel.
“We should be off though, before they begin.” Marcolo pulled me out of the boat and led me down the principal lane, shutting off any further questions I might’ve asked.
The plaza in front of the church was wreathed in a semicircle of low hedges and flowers, all of them dull in colour as if bleached by rime. Despite that they were well maintained and neatly trimmed, with a few of them even cut into human form. At the centre of every intersection between the paths was a small fountain spewing a cool mist into the air around.
Gideon chose that time to fly back down, choosing to land on top of my hat with a flurry of wingbeats. I cringed in expectation of some great weight, only to find that he appeared to weigh little at all, and that I could move around with nary a thought to his presence.
I didn’t dare speak on account of Marcolo beside me, so I instead just tilted my head a little questioningly.
It’s easier to land here, don’t mind it. The drake thought. I heard your conversation. About this ‘academy’. We’ll have to speak about it later.
I raised an eyebrow. He’d heard that from up there through all this wind? I’d have to watch my tongue in the future.
Once we had gotten halfway across the plaza we were finally noticed, and a giant of a man broke from the group to meet us. He was an older gentleman, with a few white hairs in his otherwise black hair. He had a short beard and wore a long tunic that split at the waist, and a hood lay upon his back. Over the cloth lay armour as well, though it was only a simple white metal breastplate with matching gauntlets and boots. A sword in a perfectly rectangular sheath lay at his waist.
Why were so many people armed? It seemed as though we had collected a small platoon here. Was this ritual really supposed to be that dangerous?
As he got closer, Marcolo suddenly sped up and held out his arms in greeting, and the man did the same, and a booming voice slammed into us.
“Marcolo! You’re still alive!” The man embraced Marcolo in a bear hug, lifting him into the air as if he weighed as much as a small cat before setting him back down. “How’ve you been? It’s been too long!”
“It’s a little hard to die in the capital, Brother Hans.” Marcolo said, the earlier stress already falling away from his shoulders. “But I should be saying the same to you! You haven't graced the pub in months now! I’d almost thought…”
As Marcolo and the apparent priest jumped further into catching up, I had to wonder at how out of place this was. Was I actually nobility? The way Marcolo had treated me so far hadn’t lended much to that case so far, and even now it sort of felt like I was standing behind my father as he met some old friend at the supermarket, not like I was being led to some mysterious upper class ritual by a servant. Hadn’t we been running late in any case?
“...back from a supposed ghast binding down near Fangmark. But enough of that! You didn’t come for my struggles. Is this the Saphry I’d heard so much about?”
I tuned back into the conversation and immediately did a double take. Did he just say ghast binding? The hell was a ‘ghast’?
Marcolo grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to his side.
“Indeed it is! This is my charge, Saphry Astrian, daughter of the Markee of Summark.”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
I extended my hand with my best interview smile. Beside me I saw Marcolo look at me in surprise.
“A pleasure to meet you, Brother Hans.”
If the Prince had been merely ‘tall’, then Hans was enormous. The man loomed over me like a titan, easily head and shoulders over me in height. His hands alone seemed to be as large as my head, and I felt more than a little intimidated for the first time in a while.
He couldn’t be human, right? He had to be almost 7 feet tall, and broad enough to make it look normal! Wasn’t there some law of physics against someone being this huge?
Hans laughed as he grabbed my twig arm with both of his gauntleted hands and gently shook it. Or as ‘gently’ by his standards in all probability, for it still felt as if he were trying to rip my arm out of my shoulder.
“As beautiful as the setting sun, Lady Astrian.” He said as I massaged my shoulder. “It seems you’ve changed much since I’ve last seen you! You must be excited for the academy then!”
Changed much? Internally I was aghast. All I did was say ‘hi’! How could he tell from a single sentence? Was my voice different? Perhaps I was supposed to curtsey instead?
“I suppose I am.” I said cautiously.
I held back a cringe as Marcolo grew even more surprised at the answer, and I immediately knew that was out of character as well.
“That’s good to hear!” Hans pat me on the back, almost knocking the wind out of me. “Let’s get this ritual done then, eh? I’ll tell the chapter lord that you’re here.”
He turned with a wave and bounded back towards the group near the church. I tried not to make eye contact with Marcolo as we followed.
I think you might’ve mischaracterized Saphry. Gideon supplied unhelpfully.
I wasn’t sure how that was possible really, as that was pretty much the most neutral greeting you could give someone. Had Saphry just been so outside the norm that something like that was strange?
A quick glance at Marcolo told me that was true.
What was it then? Was she bratty then? She’d certainly seemed to talk back to Marcolo easily enough during that dream last night. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue an attitude so socially self destructive though. From what I was able to tell she’d only been a year or two younger than I had been on Earth, and I didn’t think I could keep up such a persona as what I imagined without dying of shame.
Regardless, my indecision didn’t fare long in my mind as we approached the congregation outside the church and joined them at the edge while Brother Hans whispered into the ear of the priest at the front. Ours seemed to have been the only group without a significant guard, which led credence to the theory that Saphry was some low nobility, though other answers bounced around my thoughts as well. After all, the position of ‘Markee’ was pretty variable in how powerful it was, and I wasn’t sure how high this specific one was.
Seeing as I hadn’t seen any actual family yet, I was still open to the idea that I was the only one left, which would help explain my affairs. Perhaps the family wealth was being squandered by a steward or maybe my family had lost half its titles after an untimely death. I couldn’t really be sure of anything yet.
A few glances flew towards me as we stood there, though they were of a more idle nature than anything to be concerned about. Seeing no dangerous conversations attempting to approach me, I did the same and inspected my fellow nobles.
Besides Prince Andril there were four other people there, all of them roughly the same age give or take half a decade or so. Three of them were male, and two of those actually carried weapons on their hips, one an axe and the other a sheathed sword. The one with the sword talked with the prince, though he did more listening than talking, and I couldn’t make out much else due to the hood he had drawn. The other one with the axe was a hunter looking type with tall fur boots and a confident air about him, and had a wide brimmed hat bent up on one side like a musketeer. He talked to the only other girl I could see, a brown haired girl huddled up under a veritable mountain of coats such that the only reason I could tell she was a girl was by the occasional squeak I heard emanate. The last noble listened to the prince speak, and was a little more…err… rotund.
Now this one was more fitting of the classic noble archetype!
Well whatever. The more worrying thing was, again, the large amounts of weapons equipped by the crowd. I wouldn’t mind such a display if I had my magic or maybe some potions, but as it was currently I was pretty defenceless. Except for my disarming smile of course, and a cat sized dragon.
The latter being of debatable usefulness.
“Children of Verol!”
The main priest called out over the crowd, and everyone fell silent to listen. He was an older man at the edge of his prime, though he didn’t carry a mace or armour like Hans did.
“You’ve come here today for the blessing of the Everstar before a long journey, and ere long you shall receive it. It will look over you throughout your travels to Minua, though I selfishly hope you wouldn’t need it. King Esiland has long maintained those roads, and kept them free from bandits and the scourge of Tresti, Falia, and many a land beside. But then again, we should all know better than to challenge tradition.”
He looked over the nobles meaningfully, and a few chuckles broke out. Not that I understood what he was talking about, of course.
“So me and my brothers will lead you under the Earth, so that you might descend in the same manner as the star you seek, and hopefully receive grand portents for the travels ahead. Follow me then, and pray forsake your households for a time.”
The nobles all nodded and began saying brief goodbyes to the guards around while I felt my own growing apprehension.
“Well, I wish you luck.” Marcolo said, resting his hands on my shoulders. “Though I should hope to see you back up before the coming of halfday.”
“You’re not coming?” I had accounted on Marcolo being with me at least, to feed me answers to what I should do, but I was watching that plan slip away already. Could I not at least have that much?
“I’m afraid not. It goes against tradition.” Marcolo pat my shoulder. “Now fly along, and remember that it wouldn’t hurt to speak with the others on the way down. The Everstar knows how much help it would be if you befriended a duke’s son. Or the prince.”
And I’m sure a little more than befriended wouldn’t hurt, I’m sure he means.
I nodded to Marcolo, though perhaps a little more aggressively than Gideon would’ve liked.
Nothing like that! That was rule one! There was no playing around with another person’s body on the line. Consent and all that, after all.
Marcolo flipped me around and gave me a small push towards the church, causing me to stumble forward for a few steps. Looking back I found him waving, so I did the same as I approached the others in front of the twin oak doors.
The priest led us inside, and for the first time in many years I walked through the halls of a church. It was somehow grander on the inside, with a curved roof two stories up. The small windows that I had seen from outside let in rays of red and orange light to shine across the four halls, illuminating the many rows of white-wood tables and chairs. A brilliant beam wider than the rest came in through an opening in the roof at the very centre of the plus above a pulpit, and a small settling of snow lay around it. The room was warm both in air and to the eye, and I could see flickering fires behind stone grates in several places around the halls. Faintly, I could hear strange whistles breaking through the air, and craning my head towards the source led me to see many small holes drilled high up through the wall which apparently twisted the outside gale into a soothing song.
This was a church? What were the tables for? It almost felt more like a homely schoolhouse than it did a place of worship, and I probably would’ve mistaken it for such if it hadn’t been so grand in scale.
Gideon stayed silent as the priest led us towards the pulpit and pulled up a hatch hidden in the floor stones. Underneath was a flight of circular stairs disappearing into darkness further down. It looked like something a british archaeologist might find, a stairway that led to probable dangers created by some secret cult. I apparently wasn’t the only one to have such misgivings, for a few of the others faltered upon the priest opening it.
The Prince, however, was undisturbed and followed the priest’s red glass lantern down the steps. The others soon followed, Hans stepping in front of me with another lantern. After another second of apprehension I stepped down as well.
At least if I were to die, it would be in some cool cult room, right? Though dying on the first day of a transmigration might be a little too lame for me…
It was cooler in the tunnel, and the air was musky and old, smelling of rock and stone and little else. The atmosphere drew close inside, and I could feel the many tons of rock and stone over my head. It felt the same as a cave or mine, and the whistles of wind from further above soon became a distant memory as it disappeared into the droning stillness of the ground around.
The tunnel seemed to stretch into eternity as we descended, until I’d lost count of time as we climbed. It must’ve been significant though, as my calves were starting to burn with exertion.
Did this stairway lead on forever? What was even the point of digging so deep? It had to be about as impressive as the actual church was, honestly, to make sure this shaft didn’t collapse.
Might as well get something to distract myself with. It’d be pretty pathetic if I were to be the only one who wasn’t able to make it. Even the girl under a mountain of furs was looking fine. But what to do?
I looked over the others again, trying to grab anything interesting, and settled upon Prince Andril. He was talking with Hans now, though even he was dwarfed under the giant. On the right shoulder of his coat was the same heraldry I’d seen on the flag on the surface, and his clothes seemed to match the colours as well, with a burgundy red coat that came down to his knees and dark grey pants beneath. It was a style most similar to the other men I’d seen on the streets of Verol, though his was obviously tailored to a better fit than the riff raff.
“Curious about the prince?”
I jumped as someone spoke up behind me, almost causing me to trip down the stairs. Barely catching the wooden railing near the wall, I found that one of the other ritual goers had gotten behind me.
Hadn’t I been the last one to enter? How had he gotten behind me?
“And you…” The glare slipped from my face as I got a good look at him. ”Eh?”
He seemed to be around the same age as Saphry, with short blonde hair and an average build. Noticeably, his irises seemed almost to harbour a dark red among them, though I wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the lantern light or not.
More importantly, I actually recognized him.
“I’m Fredrick.” He continued, matching steps with me. “Fredrick Maverick. I can’t say I’ve seen you very oft, Ms. Astrian.”
This was the boy I saw searching for his sister in the dream last night. He was older, three or four years so at least, but it was clear to me that he was one and the same.
Finally! Something tangentially useful!
“Fredrick!” I grabbed his hand and shook it, happy that there was something from the memory I could grab onto. “How’s Breale doing?”
He raised an eyebrow as he shook my hand, obviously awed at my ability to bring up a single name.
“Fine, though I wasn’t aware you knew about her.” He gestured towards me with his other hand. ”Now what brings the second heir of Summark onto the streets? The last time I’d been so fortunate to witness your beauty was a proper decade ago. I’d also assumed you’d been recalled to Summark. If Brother Hans hadn’t pointed you out I wouldn’t have even known it were you.”
Despite the questioning, I had to rejoice a little, for it was obvious he didn’t know too much about Saphry either. Or rather he didn’t know much about her personality, so I could act normally while I figured it out. Hopefully the others would be the same.
“I’m here for the ritual, of course. And…” I paused. I really wish I knew what Saphry had been doing before this. “...I guess we just don’t fall into the same circles, then.”
“Strange.” He fell into step beside me as we climbed. “Given the proximity of our lines back in Summark. If I’m not mistaken my father still serves as a retainer of the Markee.”
Warning alarms began to fire through my head. A family friend? I’d been tricked! This actually was a dangerous conversation!
“Then I guess today’s as good a day as any to meet.” I looked towards the wall. I had to redirect this towards something else, before it got too suspicious. “Why did you think I was curious about the prince?”
“...Indeed. You were staring at him for the better part of five shortbells after all.”
How long was a shortbell? A minute maybe?
“I’d almost thought you ensorcelled, as my sister assuredly is.”
Ensorcelled? The hell did that… I glared at him as I put together the context clues.
“Hey! I was just wondering about…his past.” I nodded. Yes, that's it! “I wasn’t leering at him, or anything like that.”
“I made no such accusation.” A very small grin tugged upon his face. “Though I might wonder how you thought to solve such mysteries by staring at his shoulders.”
“You…”
“My sister is the same way, although it was always his ‘honour’ that she searched for. I fail to see how one might come to understand such things through boring a hole in my liege’s back however.”
“I…”
“He’s not such a scary person, honestly. Though perhaps it is different for the fairer sex, as it did take over a month of his stay in the barony before my sister first greeted him.” He shook his head. “I swear on the star, he must think half the population hates him, given how some of them avoid him.”
“...Are you done?”
I felt a large urge to just abandon this conversation and rush further down the stairs, but something kept me there. Because despite what this asshole implied I actually was rather curious about the prince’s background. Marcolo had mentioned some recent news regarding him after all, and being well-informed had always been a plus in my previous line of work.
“I suppose.”
“So you know him then?” I asked, picking out the important bit from that.
“Well, yes. He stayed in Cice for a couple years to train swordsmanship under my father. We’re good friends.”
“Train?” I leered at his sword. “Is that why you carry…”
I petered off with another glance at his face.
“Are you truly ignorant of even the Maverick’s dedication?” He asked, surprised. “I knew Esiland’s Law was strict, but to not even know your own homeland…”
“Well…you know…” I didn’t really know what to say about that. Perhaps it would be better to stay silent after all? If I just survived today, hopefully I’d get more memories from Saphry in the night.
“My family is a line of swordsmans, gifted by the dwarves. We’ve trained as such for generations. Leaving my sword behind would be sacrilege.”
“Wait, everywhere?” I asked. I hadn’t remembered him holding a sword in the dream last night after all. And what was this about being ‘gifted by the dwarves’?
“Ever since I reached fourteen.”
I took that in silently. The dream must’ve been quite an old memory then, maybe four or five years? It had seemed to me that Saphry had already become somewhat antisocial by that time though. Had that only increased in the years since?
It would certainly explain Saphry’s physical capabilities, that’s for sure. Even this small climb had served to sap my stamina. Curse this body!
“So…” I said, trying to keep my focus on the conversation rather than my burning thighs. “What about the others then? Who are they?”
The stairway was large enough that I could still see the others ahead, in the same groups as they’d been on the surface, minus Fredrick. The fat guy talked to the prince while the girl and the hunter dude with the axe chatted behind them. Unfortunately, none of them looked as winded as I felt.
Fredrick didn’t look surprised by the question.
“It’s strange, isn’t it? Despite the law, the only other person here I’d met before would be the second prince, Andril.” He examined the others again. “Justeo’s the one talking to Andril, and is apparently the son of a merchant lord, though I don’t know where from. I’d never heard of his house, but he’s a friend of the third prince and now seeks the academy, same as the rest of us.”
What did he mean, ‘despite the law’? Was that the same one as the ‘Esiland’s Law’ he mentioned earlier?
Fredrick nodded towards the other duo.
“Feanin, the man wearing the axe, is the son of a small count in Fangpeak. I’m not sure why he hadn’t been in the city up till now, though I suppose it’s reasonable to believe they hadn’t heard news of the Law until now.”
“And the girl?” I asked between breaths.
“Auro, second daughter of the Duke of Minua. That’s where the academy is, actually, and since she’s so far from the succession she’s spent most of her life in that city.”
You know, he was pretty knowledgeable about people he’d never met before.
“Great.” I said. “Thanks.”
“I wouldn’t mention it. And… are you alright?”
“I’m… fine.” I lied, my legs protesting every step. “I just didn’t… sleep that well last night.”
As if to expose me, my foot caught on the next step and I fell forward. Gideon slid his claws into my scalp and I threw my hands in front uselessly, only to stop when Fredrick grabbed the back of my shirt.
“Fine, you say?” I could almost hear the concern as he pulled me back up. “Why don’t you take my arm?”
Irritation bubbled inside me at the assertion. I was Ryder Fletcher, hero of Chicago! I’d run across the city, jumped between rooftops! A little bit of stairs wouldn’t defeat me that easily.
I lightly bat away his hand with a scoff. “I’ll be fine. How many more could there be anyway?"