They stood in an alleyway outside of the high walls of Tasadir’s palace- red-brick and imposing stone, wrought from the clay of the fields and the stone of the highland mountains. White stone- further in, beyond the first walls. It was as imposing of a fortress as Laeo had ever seen, the heart of Tasadir and the once heart of empire.
He imagined what it had been like in its prime, before the emperor had crumbled and centered itself around Ilaial… it must have been incredible. Still, even now, the Tasadiran provinces provided enough wealth for the city to maintain such an expensive complex. More than just maintaining the complex, though, they had competent guards. It was nothing like Laytaihishu where sneaking in and out had been as simple as slipping through the window- here they’d actually have to try.
“We should force the gate. It would be easier.”
“An easier way to get killed, perhaps.” Laeo glared at Arctic- he didn’t seem to understand, or even want to understand the nuances of sneaking into a guarded place. It was a difficult thing- with his grace, strength and silence he would have been perfect for it, but he just refused to accept realities. “This is a stronghold. A place of power… they’d overwhelm you and drag even you away. We need to be careful.”
“I think you underestimate the power of the sibilant.” Still, Arctic was quiet after that as Laeo plotted an approach. The wall was too sheer, to open… they needed a different way in, but what? Cellers, perhaps… he didn’t doubt that over the many years, a decent number of underground cellars had intercected with those of the nobility, but still… that would be equally difficult. Perhaps…
A tower.
It was the perfect place to slip in- in that little sliver of shadow they would almost completely invisible to all but the most attentive of eyes, and this far away from the first wall there’d be patrols rather than permanently stationed guards… a bribe would have been better if he had one, but they didn’t, and this had to do. “How about here?”
“You’re the expert… however.” Arctic paused for a second, then reached up, pulling off that cape of silver cloth that was both metal and wasn’t. Iri had had one too, and he hadn’t thought it was possible to remove one. The facets around his shoulders quivered and settled as he draped it over Siqxhe’s shoulders. It was darkness then, despite its reflective sheen… as dark as the shadows. It was strength.
He wore a sibilant's cape, and wondered… “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Not giving. Loaning… just in case. It will protect you.” Arctic gazed up at the spot Laeo had pointed out, looking so still, so contemplatively at the approach into death or salvation. The approach to Polarity Light, and its secrets…
Night fell over Tasadir.
The city was never truly dark- too many fires burnt in cheery windows, too many candles and too much silence- it was quiet, but not truly silent. Wagons always rolled around, moving with the pulse of the city. Lifeblood, moving from the port and into the palace, distributing itself throughout the city in the long hours of the night. Between all that busyness, nobody paid attention to two creatures clawing their way through shadow, two figures that landed softly on the wall and made their way down the tower steps unnoticed, slipping into the palace gardens. It was a beautiful place.
A perfect place for hiding.
The shadows grew long, ancient bushes and cleverly designed stone artwork, built in the style of the old Nola noblemen. Before they’d been subjugated to the church… it was a neat separation between the Sakaxhy and the Nola- for all their similarities, they were in the end completely different.
They didn’t believe the same things… still, Laeo found himself considering. Compared to the immensity of god or the quiet movements of the sibilant and their war as old as time, were they really that different? What lay between them- nothing more than a few simple ideological mannerisms. They were, in essence, the same- a break in religion, but even the Orroyelans were more different than the Sakaxhy and the Nola…
Perhaps that’s why they came to blows so often… discontent was boiling, though, a discontent that threatened to erupt into something not seen since the Cerulean Wars. Full scale conflict, betwene the Sakaxhy Empire and the Holy Nolabo… as they staked through the garden Laeo pondered that. Pondered his role in that, and satisfied himself with the fact that Nolabo was ready. Their fleets were by and far the best in the world, and they were one of the most populous nations… they would survive any war.
They would triumph, even if the world burnt under the weight of their cannons… at the least, the sibilant wouldn’t destroy it. Beyond the first wall they found getting into the castle a lot easier than he suspected- the second wall was imposing, but under the weight of so many years of nobility who liked to go where they wanted when they wanted, the doors into the castle proper remained open at all times. It was a keep, left open-
The hallways had that ancient Nola look to them, subtle in their caste but definitely there.. This place was older than Sakaxhy as an ethnicity. An old place indeed… There was so much here that defied the act of description, so many little trinkets of scrap… still it didn’t make sense- given how much he’d seen them pull out of the ground in Laytaihishu there should be more. If this was the true ed of all scrap, then there had to be more-
There wasn’t, though, and that wasn’t their purpose in coming to the palace, so they forged onwards, through the dimly lit hallways and back-passages that yielded before their advance, steadily giving them a way into the center of the palace itself, an area where shadows ran as long as light and there was still a quiet bustle even this far into the night.
If they were spotted… the fate that would come upon them was something that didn’t bear through kindly. While the lords of Tasadir had somewhat lost their reputation for cruelty after the fall of the Tasadiran empire, they still were cruel…
Dark hallways. Darkness, so far, looking out… they seemed to stretch onto into infinity as they crawled through them, dodging from shadow to shadow, barely missing light… Arctic was himself nothing but motion and quiet, invisible for all his reflectivity… there was just something about him that defied the vision. Laeo would have guessed he was a professional, if he’d been asked… but Arctic hated this. It was just so faintly visible in the cast of his body, the possibility of conflict…
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Eventually, they came to a quiet place, deep in the darkness of a shadowed hall. The palace itself was built on a hill, sprawling above the walls- unlike the keep of Laytaihishu which speared the sky, this construction looked out over the city, as sprawling and grand as Tasadir itself. It was a beautiful place, filled with all the wonders of something that could have been… but it wasn’t the capital. Not yet… maybe in a few hundred years, but not now. For now, Ilaial wore the crown, and this was a seat abandoned.
Only the lord of Tasadir stayed here, but as far as lords went, he was a powerful one. Almost an emperor in his own right. “We need to search through the area, looking for traces of Nola presence. Maybe capture a servant, ask them some questions, then kill them…”
Arctic wasn’t listening, though- his eyes were focused almost fully on the distance, looking out at something beyond the wall that only he could really see. “...no. The central room. The atrium of sky- they’re there. It’s there, or something powerful, some remnant of…” He shook his head, and this time his eyes gleamed. Burning brightnesses that looked out over the entity of the palace, lighting up the hallway with their light. He stepped forward, confident-
Then they were moving through the palace at an altogether different pace. It was a confident stride, disregarding anyone who saw them, the servants with their dark eyes and wandering gazes that meant word was almost certain to get out. Still, he’d committed to following Arctic and now Arctic was perhaps the only thing that would be able to get them out of this predicament. Stone halls gave way to grand rooms and sparkling ceilings, stained glass mosaics and tapestries with the history of the greatest noble family in the history of Xhyolok.
It was beautiful, down here. As they strode into the central atrium, that place of lords, they were alone. Almost- cold eyes peered at them from a sea, fifty guards and enough crossbowmen to cut him down in an instant all looking at him with an intense hatred… and the lord of Tasadir, by heritage looking far more Nola than Sakaxhy.
A snap, the twang of a hundred arrows, and the rush of air. Laeo dropped, holding Arctic's cloak up against the hail of arrows, but Arctic himself was faster. A blinding beam of light lanced out from something Arctic had been holding, two twin orbs of steel rolling across the ground to flash brightly and blind the crossbowmen. Then the Lord of Cold Places was among them, cleanly slicing them all.
It was a moment of seconds, but against Arctic’s preparedness and relentless assault the crossbowmen and then the guards fell. This wasn’t Iri and her blunt, raw attack. This was precise. Deadly in the extreme and entirely sibilant.
Then it was just the Lord of Tasadir facing the Lord of Cold Places, eye to eye, looking deep into one another and promising death to each other. Laeo backed up into the shadows- best to be forgotten when the armies came looking for Arctic’s blood… he could hear the conversation, though. “...give it to us. Polarity Light.”
“I don’t have a Polarity Light. I’ve heard of the sibilant, but I do not involve myself in their conflicts. That would be foolish beyond measure…” There was something more, and Arctic’s eyes blazed with all the fury of a star denied its warmth. The whole of the courtyard glimmered between Arctic’s light and the hanging scrap that had been cleverly bent and molded into beautiful shapes across the entire garden. “...you have no right to just barge in, killing. Your life is forfeit.”
“I can sense the power beneath you. The throne?” In a moment the roles were reversed- the lord of Tasadir was clutching a bruised arm on the floor several feet away from the throne, and Arctic was carefully inspecting the thing of gold and steel and historical significance. A glittering circlet of metal clattered to the ground, the old crown of Tasadir…
Arctic gave the throne one last kick, bending it out of shape before turning around in disgust. When he spoke, Laeo could hear him clearly and through that he felt fear… “I will destroy you. You will help me, or you will be an example to all humanity to not cross the sibilant. Where is Polarity Iridescence? Where is the Nola doctor?”
“I don’t have them, and I will never bow to anyone, sibilant or human.” The lord of Tasadir struggled to rise but fell back down to the ground as Arctic approached, a shadow of jagged steel and facet-brightness, eyes burning as bright as suns, two little points of infinity nestled in the contours of his face.
Arctic’s eyes burn as bright as eternity, for a single moment- “Very well. Then die-” and the skies released death.
………
A farmer glanced, up, noticing two stars falling to earth. Blazing orange-bright, they were only specks against the brightness of Tasadir the great. Still, they were as unusual as they were beautiful. She’d never seen anything like it…
She watched them descend so slowly toward the city, angels of fire and beauty… he watched the city look up to meet them-
She watched the palace explode into a conflagration of flame.
……….
A concussive blast hit Laeo, slamming him against the wall and destroying him- no, something protects him. A faint sheen, the silvery body of Arctic wrapped around him, both of them resting in a single moment’s bubble. Through the walls he saw an infinite darkness, eyes watching, the very power of something that was beyond humanity. Something immense that saw, and would not…
Then he was back, and this time on the wreckage of Tasadir’s palace. Melted stone bled heat into the air as he stood there, mouth agape... high in the sky, little flashes of light played out their dances among the clouds, above the clouds…
Arctic.
He turned to Arctic, seeing a sibilant damaged for the first time. His perfect sheen had been marred by the force of the fire, peeled back in places, once sharp facets now drooping… the sibilant didn’t move with the same grace, but rather with an almost lopsided gait, moving from one side to the other, just… moving. “We need to go. A ship… we need to go…” Amidst the confusion, they slipped out into the very darkness, the after effects of atrocity and a city in turmoil…
The whole of Tasadir seemed to roil in unrest as they slipped form the palace and into the city-streets, into the far-away places and the furthest possibilities, ancient… deep beneath a street’s shadow, Laeo finally got to ask the question- “Why?”
Arctic’s eyes were cold. “He was an example. To humanity, to Iri’s faction. By revealing that bombardment above Tasadir they were able to destroy it… no matter, I have more. It is a message I have more.” A silence, and in that silence the distant sounds of cannonfire… a confrontation in the harbor, perhaps? “They will know- this is the end of time. Polarity Light will be ours, our will shall be done and the Eternity Falling will not be constrained by them… and if not, then they will burn.”