Say what you will about the monolithic, intimidating nature of the architecture, there’s no denying this place is still proper swanky. I’ve seen some impressive buildings in my time – I grew up in Untermer, and encountered other impressive places over the years through my travels, but the Citadel might be the most spectacular place I ever been, and definitely the most expensive looking. Everything here’s just so big, that intimidating gatehouse and its cavernous interior just the first hints of what was to come. Once this senior wizard, Arrhetel Thermyse apparently, leads us through a tall, wide tunnel of smooth, cool pale stone that echoes magnificently with our voices and footsteps, we come out into the open again and things get proper huge.
We’ve passed through the encircling perimeter wall of the fortress now, coming out on a broad platform at least fifty feet above the fast-flowing stream of the Icespine itself. Turns out this is simply the centre of a stepped bridge spanning the final small open stretch of the river before it plunges under the towering structure itself, and the roar as it thunders into that gaping dark archway is immense. The whole place seems to reverberate with the overwhelming bass rumble I feel riding up through me as I look over the high rail at the edge of the platform into the foaming waters, enough to set my bones shivering. The Citadel itself soars into the sky before us, steeply circling plateaus of haphazard white buildings rising up to meet the central tower while two of the three smaller spires stand like sentinels on either side, the third hidden from our sight on the far side.
The river holds my attention for a few moments as I take in the sheer force of water constantly racing directly under my feet, but soon enough the enormous white monolith snatches my focus away again. My eyes go up, and up, and up, and I know my mouth’s fallen open but I can’t help it as I crane back, stupefied. Gods … this thing is tall. If it wasn’t such a clear day I’d swear the top of that central spire, which seems so impossibly spindly from all the way down here, should be lost in the clouds. I can actually feel vertigo kicking in seeing that, something that rarely bothers me, and that unpleasant, unbidden dark voice deep inside me wonders what it might be like to fall from that height, making me shudder.
Tearing my eyes away, I take a moment to rub at my eyes, pressing my fingers firmly as I dare, and suck in a deep breath before letting it out good and slow. I sense their presence before they speak, but it still surprises me a little.
“Quite something, isn’t it?”
Gael’s looking up at that scary enormous structure herself as I turn, and I can’t believe they’re regarding it with a smile instead of dull existential terror. “Honestly? I reckon it’s bloody terrifying. Now I’m up this close I’m starting to see what Yeslee’s on about.”
Turning to look at me again, Gael frowns, then looks back to others as they make their way out too. I’m really not at all surprised to see our Fir Bolg making a clear concerted effort to look anywhere but at the tower itself, her lips a tight, thin line while her normally deep-tan knuckles are almost white, she’s clenching her fists so hard. Sure ain’t in her element right now, ‘bout as far away as she can get, in fact.
Cocking a brow as she looks back at me, Gael starts to smile again. “For a supposedly cultured young man of the world, Art of Shadows, there are times I wonder if you aren’t still a little naïve. It’s rather endearing.”
“Really?” I smile back, feeling a little more sure of myself now. “That’s good to know.”
“Hey,” They seem a little more serious now, the smile’s still there but it’s got a sharper edge, a little more critical judgement in their eyes. “Don’t flirt with my friend.”
“Okay, sure.”
Their smile vanishes in a flash, just gone entirely. Their look doesn’t turn cold, but there’s a seriousness to it I’ve rarely seen, something deeply defensive, I think. Wow, this means a lot to ‘em. “No, seriously, I mean it. Don’t mess her around, she’s not like all those girls I’ve seen you with. Tulen is sweet, and gentle, and she can be far too trusting for her own good sometimes. She doesn’t deserve to be played with, and I know you, Art of Shadows. You like to play, you like a chase. You’re a bit of hound, to be honest, and she doesn’t need that in her life. She’d be a lot better off with a friend, and I know full well you can be a really great one of those. So just dial it back, okay?”
Cocking my own brow, I give her a moment’s thoughtful look. “Not sure I like being compared to a dog.”
“You know what I mean, Art. Just ease off. Be nice, and be yourself like you are with me, and the two of you will get on just fine.”
Sighing deeply, I lay on the mock offense for a few more moments. In truth I think I decided to reciprocate the moment I saw how much this actually means to them, but after that hound comment I’m prepared to let ‘em dangle a little more. Finally I lean in and give ‘em a nudge. “All right, I’ll try my best. But y’know what I’m like around the exotic ones. They’re the ones that really get me all worked up.”
Gael really glares daggers at me, and for a few more moments I just look right back, matching their stare best I can. But the smile won’t stay down forever, and eventually they must catch it, because they give me a gentle admonishing shove. “You arse. That’s not funny.”
“Now children, behave.” Thermyse’s voice snaps me to attention immediately, I can’t help it, but it has an equally impressive effect on Gael, who visibly winces as they straighten their back. As she steps up to us we both step aside to let her pass between us, it’s like she’s just parting us like a ship’s prow through a wave. Her presence is quite something.
Not that I’m particularly surprised. I’ve known a few dragonhalves in my time, one or two where the dragon was quite subtle in their blood and it seems to be the case here, as it was with Tulen, but I suspect in the senior wizard’s case there’s more to it than that simple recessive bloodlines. The dragon’s clearly there in her impressive backswept, arcing horns, curling to expressive points, and her incredibly striking amber eyes with almost no whites, the pupils tight vertical slits. Not to mention the distinct sky blue tint to her skin, patterned with darker spots lining her cheeks and forehead, which seem less like simple markings and more like glossy scales, and she has as many long, sharp teeth as I do. Otherwise her decidedly delicate features are far more human in appearance … or maybe not. The more I look, the more I see something akin to Gael in them. Her build’s willowy slender and the tips of her ears, poking through her thick and lustrous jet black hair, are prominently pointed enough to suggest elven blood in the mix. As if her majestic and graceful posture, regal manner and the subtly pearlescent gleam to her skin didn’t give that away.
Most of all, though, power just seems to radiate from her. Gael can give off a bit of an aura on occasion, but usually it’s just when they’re really charged up in the thick of battle. In Thermyse’s case it just seems to be turned on all the time. I feel my fur prickling a touch when she’s this close to me. She’s incredible, really, and absolutely gorgeous, but once I think about it I’m not sure if I’m actually attracted to her, at least not in that way. She’s just too intimidating, I think.
She stops at the rail and turns back to regard the group as we gather on the platform. Kesla’s frowning now, and I can see she’s not looking at the tower with the discomforted wonder that’s somewhat overtaken me. Instead she seems distinctly focused, and a little thrown. “Okay, I don’t get it. How do we get in?”
Managing to look at the Citadel itself with a more discerning eye, I finally notice the glaring lack of visible entrances across the open stretches of ground on either side of the river. The only opening at all I see in the admittedly broad central tower is a tall archway with a corresponding platform sticking out like a pouty bottom lip, but that’s gotta be a good hundred feet above the tallest plateau. Gods, how the hell do you get in there?
“Oh, there are ways, but only Order members know them, and very few of us know them all.” Thermyse gives Gael an indulgent look and my friend grins back, clearly amused. I can’t help cocking my brow again at that, and they actually stick their tongue out in response, although they’re clearly very careful to make sure their elder doesn’t catch it. “For now …”
She doesn’t work a spell, no working of her fingers or drawing a sigil, not even muttering a word that’s felt rather than heard. She simply raises one hand, utterly casual, and clicks her fingers, and the whole platform shudders for a moment with a dull but prominent cracking sound before it starts to rise.
Yeslee essentially snarls a short string of what I can only imagine are cuss words in that strange lilting language I’ve heard her use occasionally without thinking about it. She jumps as far from the edge of the platform as she can as we start rising into thin air, seemingly unsupported, which brings her up against Driver 8’s right hip. She looks up at him, seeming shocked for a moment, but doesn’t spring away. Clearly her discomfort with this situation trumps any embarrassment she feels over her unintended faux pas, and as he twists enough to look down at her I get the feeling Big Man is trying in his own way to give her some comfort. Even so, she’s tenser than ever as she roots herself in place, rigid as a tree trunk.
As we rise higher we start to drift out into the open now, and as we float out over the racing flow of the river it’s clear that we’re heading directly for that seemingly unreachable entrance. Damn, this is actually really bloody clever now I think about it, perfectly encapsulating what’s clearly a magic-based defensive strategy. Clearly the only sure way to get into this place is to be a mage, and I’m sure what entrances there are will be specifically warded so that only Order members can use ‘em. To be honest I don’t know why I’m surprised.
It's also bloody terrifying, of course. Once we’ve reached what I think is the halfway point we’ve already gotten fucking high, and I can’t even bring myself to look down anymore to try and work out how far up we already are. I keep my feet firmly planted where they are, determined not to move now and incredibly thankful for my own feline balance, and to distract myself I look round at the others.
Gael surprises me, I seen ‘em with heights in the past and they ain’t great, but this time for some reason they’re perfectly calm and collected, like they know for a fact this is totally safe, but it still doesn’t convince me. Thermyse is similarly chill about the whole thing, but then she probably travels this way all the time, it’ll be routine for her. Krakka’s just got Bloodmoon propped on his shoulder and his eyes are tightly closed, his beak moving in that subtle way I’ve seen sometimes that means he’s quietly praying to Serena. Shay surprises me, she’s looking out over the immense open space around her with undisguised wonder, one foot planted bare inches from the edge of the platform, as though her wonder’s eradicated any sense of dread our predicament might engender. Then again, having been raised in the mountain ranges of the Northern Reaches, she never struck me as being remotely bothered by heights.
Only Kesla seems as stoic as the two wizards, affecting a typically laid-back stance favouring her right foot that I’ve seen a thousand times before, right hand hanging casual at her side with the left laid on the hilt of her sword. Her fingers are loose, no sign of any tension in her at all as she looks round with simple cool detachment. Driver 8 could almost be considered more expressive right now.
I’d be curious to see if Wenrich would be cool with this as Gael and Thermyse, but he’s still below in the gatehouse, unless he’s already found some other means inside, like one of those special entrances. Given his still infirm condition, he insisted we go ahead without him, cryptically insisting on meeting us inside. I would’ve thought his next port of call would be whatever these people call an infirmary. It’s probably impressive as everything else here.
We’re getting close when I finally realise I ain’t breathed out in a while, and I puff it all out at once before dragging in a deep one, and almost have to force myself to keep going after. I catch Gael looking at me, seeming almost surprised, and they give me a warm smile that kind of helps. Just a touch. I’m still real uncomfortable right now.
After what seems like an eternity we finally reach the inexplicable entrance, and as we coast over that jutting lip and the platform finally lowers itself into place, Yeslee immediately jumps off and scrambles several feet into the cool cover of the arch. Once again another clipped string of unfathomable oaths escapes her lips, and when she looks back at us her violet eyes are wilder than I’ve ever seen them before, her surprisingly sharp teeth bared. Finally she cuts it all off and leans back against the wall, bending over for a moment before hissing: “Fuck!” and straightening up again.
When she looks back she seems a little calmer, but her face is still especially stern, even for her. “I hate this place.”
“My humblest apologies, Mistress Toll.” Thermyse lays one of her long-fingered hands on her chest and looks down in what seems a subtly exaggerated show of remorse. “I suppose I should have warned you first.”
Yeslee’s eyes narrow, her lips tightening for a moment, but doesn’t respond, which is a good sign, means she’s calming down. She’s usually proper stoic, it takes a great deal indeed to rattle her, so this is only the third time I ever seen her really lose her cool. Knowing her well as I do, the insane height of our passage likely wasn’t the issue with her, she’s comfortable on a cliff’s edge as Shay clearly must be. Ain’t even the magic made it happen, not really, I know she ain’t a big fan of the stuff but she’s always had a pretty strong tolerance for it. Reckon it’s just be this place in general, it’s so completely alien to her that her discomfort’s dialled right up, and that was just the last straw for her.
So when she simply breathes out, long and hard, and sets her jaw as she nods and says, quiet and real matter-of-fact indeed: “That’s quite all right, Mistress Thermyse. I am simply … how is it that it’s said? Out of my element. I must simply find a means to adjust.” it almost floors me. Even Kesla seems surprised.
“Of course.” Thermyse nods, seeming satisfied, and smiles once more at each of us. “Very well, if you would follow me?” She begins walking again, wafting ahead with that smooth, effortless dancer’s gait that makes it even clearer she’s got elf blood in her.
Kesla gives me a loaded look before striding straight to Yeslee’s side. I don’t hear what she says to her, but our ranger nods curtly and lets out another deep breath before hefting her bow and readjusting the lie of her bag as she follows our leader.
Gael just shrugs at me before cocking their head after them, and I step up beside them as they start walking too. Within a few strides Shay’s fallen into step on their other side and again I’m struck by just how close these two seem to have become in the short time we’ve known the half-orc. I’ll admit I’m becoming fond of her too, of course, it’s hard to go through what we did and stay aloof after.
I don’t need to look back to know Krakka and Driver 8 are following, I can hear the cleric’s heavy boots on this smooth, hard floor real well given this whole place’s particularly rich resonance. As for Big Man, the golem is loud in here, people halfway across the building probably hear him coming.
After walking down what proves to be a very tall, wide and surprisingly long passage built from the exact same glistening smooth white stone as everything else, we come out into the open again, and this space is just as impossibly vast as the outside. Least we’re on the bottom level here, currently on the outskirts of a wide atrium seeming to stretch impossibly high into the air above us, and when I try to look all the way up it hurts my head a little. The very top’s open to the elements, but I can’t make much out from here, it simply ends in a point of bright light. Further passages branch off round the circumference, and there’s a similarly large tunnel cut into the wall on the far side that lets more distant daylight in, but aside from that there doesn’t seem to be any other break in the otherwise perfectly smooth walls. Least I don’t think there are. Now I’m looking round seems there are sigils carved into every inch of stone surrounding us. Big ones, and for some unfathomable reason each gives off a very subtle radiance.
There are other people moving round in here besides us, every single one wearing some variation of the white and silver robes Gael favours as they go about their business. A group pass close by, heading to one of the nearest passages, and all three turn to look past me after their eyes barely skip over the rest of us. They all go wide at once, too, and I know full well what they’re looking at. I’m getting the impression Driver 8’s the first golem to ever set foot in the Citadel, least in the collective lifespan of those I’ve encountered so far.
As we’re led at an angle across the wide floor I realise there are things drawn on the floor … no, not painted, as we cross one of the shapes I see the lines are inlaid in the stone in what can only be solid silver. Now I’m looking I recognise the circular patterns, too, having spent enough time around Gael to pick a few things up. She’s never actually drawn a teleportation circle, but I seen her studying a few in her books. This is confirmed a moment after when one of the passing wizards steps onto one, rests his staff on the floor with a gentle tap and works a particularly complex sigil with those strange glowing blue lines from his fingers. He mutters under his breath and the whole circle lights up bright white, almost dazzling to look at, then he’s just gone in a poof of displaced air and the glow vanishes with him.
“Wow.”
“Each of those goes to ten different locations, and each one has its own unique selection of destinations, depending on what sigils you use.” Gael smiles sidelong at me as we continue. “It can take years to learn all the different seals and their corresponding sigils. I could make maybe three of these work, and even then I could only get to maybe a third of each of their drop-off points.”
“That sounds exhausting.” I manage to mutter back, goggling down at the next one we cross.
Gael chuckles gently, and like always it’s an absolutely beautiful sound that seems to carry in here. “Well, it’s like any truly complex discipline. Even after you graduate, there’s still more to learn.”
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I give ‘em a good, drawn out sidelong look as we walk on, and I can see Shay’s doing the same, a subtle smile ticking the corner of her mouth. Our eyes meet and one of her eyebrows quirk, and I smile back before turning back to the path again.
Thermyse leads us into one of the smaller passages, but it’s still large enough in the grand scheme of this place, giving Driver 8 headroom to spare while walking straight. We don’t travel far anyway, she quickly brings us all to a stop by a large hollow cut into the otherwise smooth wall on our left. The floor inside is a perfect circle, and there’s no ceiling, when I lean in to look up it seems to just go up indefinitely. It’s a weird image and I hate it immediately, but she’s gesturing for us to step inside. “If you please?”
Looking round at the rest of us, Kesla gauges the mood of the group looking, and I wonder if she has to stop herself rolling her eyes before she steps onto the slightly raised floor. She steps close to the back wall and turns round, looking at us expectantly, and I resist my own urge to growl under my breath as I step in after. Seems enough for the rest as they follow, although Yeslee still seems to feel a certain reticence in general about this whole place, being the last to step inside.
It’s a larger space than I thought, even with Big Man in here with us there’s plenty of room for all of us, then I start to feel like it might actually have grown to accommodate all of us. Okay, that’s just weird, I hate it even more now. Then Thermyse snaps her fingers again and the floor lifts under us and we go with it.
It’s an incredibly smooth feeling, and while the curving walls now surrounding us make it look like it’s moving very fast indeed, it doesn’t feel that way, there’s no crushing weight pressing on us like I would’ve expected. Magic, like everything else in this place. I still hate it.
“We can speak freely now, it’s just us here.” Thermyse’s smile seems far gentler and somehow more honest than most of the ones I’ve seen so far, certainly more than any of the ones that weren’t directed at Gael. “We have perfect privacy in here.”
“Okay …” Kesla says it slowly, watching her cautiously now, as if suddenly understanding there’s a lot more going on here than she first expected. “That’s great, I guess.”
“I take it you’ve learned something about the nature of the cargo you were carrying.”
This time Kesla’s brows shoot right up. “Yeah, we did.” Her eyes flicker to Gael for a moment, who suddenly looks a good deal more uncomfortable than I’ve seen in weeks. “It’s some shattered remnant of whatever it was caused the Sundering in the first place, or something along those lines. It’s incredibly dangerous, since it’s soaked with something called … radiation, I think was the word. Am I right, Gael?”
Gael winces now, but covers it quick. “Yes, you are. Radiation.”
“Apparently, if Ashsong had gotten it to his people in the Night Lands, who probably aren’t actual people, that would’ve been a real bad thing indeed. Which is why Gael lost her life in the fight to get it back.”
The slightest flicker of … something crosses Thermyse’s face when she says that. A subtle tightening of her jaw, gone quickly but just barely noticeable. She looks at Gael, who’s now conspicuously watching the floor, then back to Kesla.
“But she got better. Thanks to Krakka, and Shay.”
“Thank you for that.” Thermyse barely whispers it, but there’s so much potency in her voice now that it really carries, more from the weight of meaning in her words than anything else. She reaches up with her left hand and brushes the hair from Gael’s face, very gently indeed, the long, curving black talons on the tips of her fingers very carefully guided away from the soft skin of their cheek as she strokes it. I see Gael’s eyes close at the touch, and they lean into it ever so slightly, breathing gently out through their nose. I’m surprised by how much affection there is between them both in this moment.
“You’ve got more pieces of whatever it was buried in those catacombs under this place, I understand.” Kesla ventures after a moment.
“We do indeed. Seven of them, all kept very far apart from each other. We’ve found that if you allow even two pieces to come too close together, it provokes some kind of reaction. Left too long to build, the results can be most explosive. Our understanding of what the pieces are truly capable of are still frustratingly rudimentary, but it’s clear enough that, should all the pieces be brought back together again, it would be truly cataclysmic.”
“But you’re sure you can keep ‘em safe here?”
“Nothing is certain, especially in this case. But we’ve been doing this for a long time, and our security and containment protocols are sound, the fruit of centuries of trial and, thankfully, very little error. Once this new piece has been put into final containment it will be rendered as inert as we can possibly make it, and it would take a force more massive and terrible than anything this world has ever known to steal it.”
“Except that we’re not really dealing with anything known here, are we?” Gael sighs, and once again I find ‘em looking down at their fingers, likely at the scars I seen enough times to hate a little for what they represent, even if they are currently covered by their glove. “That … thing that Ashsong was in league with, whatever it was. That’s just a hint of what we’re up against, I’m sure of it.”
“The way he talked when we faced him, he made it clear he wasn’t alone.” Kesla looks round and we’re all watching her now, remembering his words all too well. “Like there were others here, in the Day Lands. More people under whatever fucked up influence that thing had over him, or something like it.”
“We killed it, though. When Ashsong died, that thing just …” I raise my paws as I puff out my cheeks. “Poof. It just snuffed out. That was it, surely.”
“Somehow, I doubt it’s that easy.” Gael’s stood as close to the plunging wall as they can get, arms folded tight across their slender chest, looking deeply discomfited by the conversation. I suspect if the wall wasn’t racing downwards at an unbelievable speed right now they’d lean back into it right now. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with, but I suspect it was something closer to a lich than one of us. I think when Ashsong died, it lost its anchor to that specific form it was inhabiting, he was maintaining it as much as its own will, so his death broke its hold. If what he said about these others, whoever they are, is true, there might be more of those Creeps out there. Manifestations of a specific will projected from the Dark Lands, perhaps.”
“Or many wills.” Yeslee surprises us all when she speaks, gripping her bow tight as she cradles it to her chest, almost certainly holding onto this conversation so she can ignore what’s going on around her. “There are enough hive minds in both nature and the supernatural, I’d suspect it’s just as true in the Night Lands.”
“Master Clearwood’s report was as comprehensive as he could risk giving away through a projected transmission.” Thermyse is stood much like Gael, albeit with one hand raised to idly stroke her lowered chin as she looks at nothing in particular, and I recognise a particularly focused thoughtfulness in her that’s also much like how our friend can get sometimes. “He mentioned an entity, but nothing so specific as this.” Her eyes become more focused again as she turns to Gael. “Were any names mentioned?”
“Not that I recall.” They look my way, surprising me as I would’ve thought they’d look to Kesla first, and I can’t help feeling a little flattered for a moment.
“I don’t remember any either.” I admit.
“Neither do I.” Kesla adds when they finally turn to her. She frowning deep too, her own arms crossed now, and I can almost see their taut muscles straining through the sleeves of her buckskin duster. “Guess we weren’t that lucky.”
“Unfortunately, we’ve been unable to learn much at all of what lies beyond the Borderlands in the time we’ve been investigating. Even the few outposts that we still maintain in Tektehr have come up short in these past few centuries. At most, there have been occasional whispers, second and third-hand information that’s made its way to us, but never more substantial than smoke and rumour.”
“Apophis?” Kesla ventures, and while she still seems cool I think I might see the slightest tightening to her jaw, a tiny flicker of worry in her eyes.
“The Void?” Thermyse blinks, and I think that must’ve actually surprised her a little. “Personally, I doubt it. There are differing schools of thought among our investigators, and some subscribe to that theory, but they’re a minority. There’s no single pervading favourite, but one particular name has come up enough to gain some traction.”
“Which is?” Kesla looks somewhat reluctant, but she’s still asking the question.
“The King in Yellow. More of a title really, but one spoken in hushed tones, when it’s spoken at all, and it’s been known to provoke a particularly nervous response in very rare cases when mentioned, engendering genuine righteous terror. So much so that even those within the Order who know it are somewhat loathe to speak it.”
Kesla’s frowning deeper than I ever seen before, least outside a fight, and there might be a little nervousness behind her eyes now. I’m certainly not enjoying the direction this conversation’s taken, and it seems to be contagious, Krakka shuffling his feet irritably as he grips Bloodmoon tighter, while Yeslee’s watching our host very closely indeed now.
“So that … thing might’ve been some kind of … agent of this King in Yellow?” Kesla wonders after an uncomfortably long, thoughtful silence.
“We have no way of knowing, that’s the problem.” Thermyse sighs “We’re uncomfortably in the dark about far too much where this subject is concerned. Fumbling about like blind children in a vast cavern populated with untold dangers.”
“Gods …” I can’t help muttering “I miss the days when the worst we had to worry about was the occasional lich.”
“How many of those fragments are still out there?”
Thermyse blinks, looking to Kesla again, and she’s a moment answering. “Again, we truly have no idea. I’d like to hope we’ve found most of them now, that they’re all safe and sound and there are only a few left out there to be uncovered, that soon we’ll be safe from that particular threat once and for all. But I suspect we’ve barely scratched the surface. We have found a great many, but in all this time no clear picture of what they originally formed has emerged, which tells me it’s worryingly likely we simply have nowhere near enough pieces for a clear picture. The Order has been looking for almost two thousand years, but it’s still rare enough for a new one to surface to suspect that it could take many more centuries yet to collect them all. If it’s even possible.”
“What d’you mean?”
Those strange, brilliant eyes settle on me, and I feel a chill under that amber gaze. “For one very specific reason, Master Art of Shadows.”
“Half of ‘em could be on the other side of the world.” Kesla answers before my frown gets too deep. “In the Night Lands.”
Damn, she’s right. Supposedly, these shards are left over from the Sundering, the great terrible horrible cataclysm that made Tao the way it is today. They’re the remains of something powerful enough to stop our entire planet moving through space as it circled our Sun, the home of Helios, the Lord of Light, or whatever exactly that thing up there’s actually supposed to be. I dunno. In the end it was Kesla who explained it to me ‘stead of Gael, cuz she knows the supposed science behind what happened but could also use small enough words for me to understand.
According to the story, all the gods used all the power they could muster to set Tao turning round the sun again, but even that wasn’t enough to set it spinning quite right. Ever since one side of our world’s been permanently turned away from Helios’ light, thus creating the Night Lands. It’s the same reason all of our days are the exact same length all year round, dependant on where we are. This is why the pole of the Day Lands is an uninhabitable, sun-blasted desert – cuz it’s never night there. By comparison the Borderlands are in almost perpetual twilight, which can’t be much fun for the Tektehrans since they live just to the south.
“If there’s so many in the Night Lands, then these things, whatever they are, why would they even need to bother looking for pieces on our side? Unless … you reckon they already found all they can on their side?” Damn, I’m scaring myself just thinking about that. “Gods … I mean, they could do something bad enough just with that, surely.”
“The pervading theory would be, if they are actively looking for pieces on our side as well, then clearly what they intend likely requires all of the pieces, or at least a majority. Not necessarily enough to cause another Sundering, but at least enough to achieve something approaching it.” Thermyse spreads her hands wide, and it makes me think perhaps she’s someone who don’t like to shrug. “As with the rest, we simply don’t know.”
“It’s possible, then, they may’ve already found most of the other pieces still left out there to find, so perhaps now they’re mainly focusing their efforts on hijacking your efforts ‘fore they can return the remaining pieces to the Citadel.” Kesla sighs deep, and she’s actually starting to look genuinely troubled now. “It’s been ten thousand years. Even if it took ‘em a few thousand to get started, that’s a long time to search. They’ll be well ahead of the Order.”
“Now that is an unpleasant thought.” Thermyse seems to almost growl that, and under different circumstances I could almost call it a damn sexy sound. “And unfortunately it also seems very likely indeed.”
“I take it you have other teams looking for the other pieces, such as whoever it was found that one downstairs.” Krakka’s been quiet up until now, but he beats the rest of us to what we’re likely all thinking now. “Since the Order’s largest purview is safeguarding Tao from these kinds of dangers, it behoves you to make a major effort in this, I’d assume. How many do you have out there?”
Thermyse looks at him for a long moment before answering, clearly weighing whether to remain a bureaucrat here or simply let a secret or two slip now we’ve proven we can be trusted. “Dozens. There are always stories and rumours circulating that we follow up on that could even tangentially point to something like this. Even if they don’t turn out to be another fragment, there are still times when it nonetheless points to something we need to deal with. There are many more terrible dangers in this world than Sundering shards that need to be contained or destroyed.”
“Do any of ‘em ever fail to return from one of these expeditions?”
“Mistress Shoon, you should know the rigours of this kind of work as well as anyone in our organisation. That’s always been one of the most dangerous parts of our work, suitable only for the bravest and most resourceful of our people, or for individuals or groups like yourselves we hire to aid them. There are always disappearances.” She looks to Gael, starts to speak, then checks herself. As if unsure if she should simply keep it to herself, but Gael sees it, which must be what presses her to carry on after all. “Mistress Betaru’s team set out a few days ago. South, into Abharet. Chasing a rumour, but one which sounded promising.”
“Little Jommelin?” Gael seems to perk up a little, but there’s an edge, likely coming with the realisation it’s someone they care about. “I thought she was doing public work, like me. Like … like Lorth.”
“Technically that’s just what this is, Gael.” Thermyse frowns, catching her slip too late, but shakes it off. “Simply in a different field, for higher stakes. Still very much for the benefit of the world at large.”
Gael winces, though I doubt it’s at any perceived admonishment. “You’re right. Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Master Foxtail.” Thermyse gives a small but very formal nod. “I know how close the two of you are.”
After another thoughtful silence which feels fraught as the last, Kesla lets a sigh go and unfolds her arms, taking a moment to flex her fingers before reaching up to brush the hair from her eyes. She’s let her undercut grow in over the weeks we’ve been on the road, the back and sides starting to get thick and scruffy, and since she hasn’t put any grease in it since that last battle the longer locks on top have become curled and unruly again.
“Okay, well I’d say what almost happened to us is good indication if they ain’t started trying to hijack your folk before, they have now.” She shrugs. “Might be a good idea to rethink your tactics regarding that work from now on, just in case.”
Thermyse strokes her chin for a few moments, watching Kesla at first before looking at the floor again, then finally nods. “Yes, of course you’re right. And once again, we’re very grateful for what you’ve done, and equally for this new information. It’s very helpful indeed, if also quite disturbing.”
“Sure.” Kesla nods, puffing a little air out of her cheeks. “Glad we could help, like always.”
The lift, which this essentially is, comes to a stop now, almost as if it’s waiting for this moment, and once I start thinking about it I wonder if that might not be exactly what it is. The transition’s a little jarring, but not so much we’re thrown off balance as it slows to a stop, and suddenly the wall on the opposite side’s open to us. Beyond is another spacious chamber, although compared to the atrium this one’s actually far more modestly appointed.
The room beyond could best be described as an office, but it’s not like any I’ve ever seen before. It has the same smooth white stone walls, floor and ceiling as the rest of the Citadel, which catches and reflects the light very well indeed, which seems to be coming through what seems like a window in the back of the room. I’m not sure if it is, though – it’s like those strange oversized sigils I saw carved in the walls of the atrium, and now I realise it’s natural light filtering through it, as if it was transparent, but not really. It’s awful weird.
The furnishings are strikingly different from the décor, but somehow still seem to fit, or maybe it’s just cuz it all looks so comfortably classy. It reminds me a bit of Wenrich’s inexplicable makeshift office where we first got offered this job back in Hocknar, sharing a strikingly similar design philosophy. The desk’s large, built from dark, richly polished wood, while there’s more of those ridiculously comfortable but awkwardly oversized leather chairs and couches. I can already see Krakka experiencing unpleasant flashbacks seeing ‘em, and I almost chuckle.
The most obvious difference is there’s only a single, fairly modest-sized set of bookshelves set back against one wall near the desk, and all of the leatherbound tomes, while rich in quality, seem worn and clearly used. It’s immediately clear to me that this is someone’s personal collection.
The room also contains one particularly notable addition – Wenrich himself, sat back in what could loosely be described as a wheelchair, although it’s the most lavish and ostentatious I ever seen in my life. Like the furniture it seems to be built from very rich wood, brass-fittings and big wheels lined with something I heard about but never seen, something from Abharet called rubber. He’s alone, and there’s no signs how the hell he managed to beat us up here. It’s very strange.
“Took you long enough.” He’s smiling subtly, but something about it don’t fit quite true. “As for what was said below, I agree with Kesla’s assessment. What I saw of Ashsong’s companion put the fear of some very dark gods indeed into me, and it was clear enough that was merely a hint of what they’re capable of. This can’t remain a secret between a select few anymore, we need to warn those who are still out there.”
It takes me a moment to work out what he’s even talking about, and it’s clear I ain’t alone, most of the others turn to look at Thermyse for some kind of explanation too. She just wafts into the room with that enviable ease of hers, heading for the desk. “I let Master Clearwood in on our entire conversation while we were rising, but only him. No-one else could hear what was discussed on the way up.”
Kesla turns to Gael at that, and they simply shrug, which I guess in this matter’s answer enough to suit. Still makes her scowl a little, like she’s frustrated to have been left out the loop.
“I’ll discuss it with the rest of the Council once we’re able to convene.” Thermyse moves behind the desk and settles into the tall, comfortable looking high-backed chair behind it. The way she sits makes her look more regal than ever. “Were it simply up to me, the word would go out within the hour, but I trust the rest to make the right choice. As for the possibility that there may be more out there like Ashsong …” She laces her fingers together as she sits forward, growing thoughtful now. “That is a prickly subject, one I believe would be prudent to keep closer to the chest for now. I shall place my very best investigators on it, though. And I’m sure you will keep your own eyes open during your travels, of course.”
“After what we saw, no way you could stop me.” Kesla sighs as she moves across the room, letting a hand rest for a moment on Wenrich’s shoulder as she passes. “I’m gonna have nightmares about whatever might be in the dark for the rest of my life, I don’t doubt it.”
Truth be told, I feel the same way, and the look Gael gives me tells me I ain’t alone. I imagine it’s worse for them, of course. Given their education they know a hell of a lot more about what could be out there than I do.
Wenrich’s chair starts to move now, and it scares the hell outta me for a moment, I near jump right out of my skin. I’d imagine, if he had the use of both his arms he could just push those big wheels around to move, but looks like it’s got it own means of propulsion, or maybe he’s just using magic to guide it. Wouldn’t really be a surprise now I think about it. Even so, bloody thing gave me a fright.
“Anyway,” Arrhetel smooths her hands across the desk’s fine leather top. “That’s enough doom-laden talk for now. You’ve fulfilled your obligations and far more besides. Time for you to be paid what you’re still owed, and then we can discuss you bonus.”
“Bonus?” Kesla falters while she’s starting to lower herself into one of the chairs, and for a moment I almost expect her to tumble on the floor through her imbalance, but she manages to catch herself in time to simply plonk down more gracelessly than usual. “What bonus?”
“As I said, you went far beyond what was asked of you in the course of your contract. The threat of Ashsong was one you should never have had to face, and in his removal you did us a great service, and at far greater risk than you agreed to. You should therefore be compensated accordingly, don’t you think?”
I shoot Kesla a look and she catches it, her own brows raised high. Bonuses … that’s a new one. We went through hell on this job, but this is shaping up very nicely indeed. Might be we should do more work for the Silver Order in future …