The Ratkin, being the hosts who initiated and then requested to join the Test of Merit, have many restrictions placed on them by the System. Otherwise, we would have all been wiped out from the get-go if they had been allowed to swarm us with overwhelming numbers and beasts levelled over 100. For this reason, the most important restriction concerns the rate at which they arrive on Idroa. The System ensures that they trickle into Idroa instead of gushing in like a flood. In addition to this, it restricts the level of Ratkin allowed on Idroa, which is why we had classers well before them.
These restrictions are all in place to allow us inhabitants a fighting chance, although they are all gradually and considerably relaxed as time goes on. If you don’t keep up with the System’s expectations, even if only for a moment, you will trip and never get back up.
Giada Marino - Scholar - Intricacies of the System
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“Initiate? What? Why?” Silas asked back, wary. However, even while he asked this, a new plan formed inside his head.
Retil’s cousin slowly picked himself up and held his palms face up as if he feared Silas would sprint off again like a skittish rabbit. He maintained the distance between them. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know exactly what grandpa is impressed by, but he’s told everyone to find you so that he can register you as an initiate. So it’s got to be your escape, right? He must have finally seen your true worth.” By the lack of sarcasm in the words and the warm smile, Silas could tell this cousin was close to Retil.
However, that didn’t mean Tel’Hier words were true; the old sorcerer could have told them to locate him to entrap him instead. Besides, it felt unusual to Silas that Retil would be registered as an initiate to the Sorcerers Temple for just escaping a human - surely such a prestigious position would be wasted on one without arcane talent, such as he assumed the real Retil to be. Or could it be Silas was simply misunderstanding here? Perhaps initiates never became sorcerers, maybe it was just an assistant position with no arcane requirements, and maybe his supposed escape from a human who had slaughtered bands of other ratmen was impressive enough to deserve that. Either way, it was undeniable that becoming an initiate would allow him to look around the temple for a bit, which would be valuable even if he left right after.
Silas gulped and looked at the cousin again, really staring this time, immediately seeing the similarities between him and Retil. He was lanky and wore a lopsided grin above his attire of cream-coloured casual clothes, his plain appearance looking better to Silas’s eyes than the countless fashionistas he had passed on the streets. “Grandpa’s really not angry?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
“No, no, no,” the cousin said, stretching his hand out and resting it on Silas’s shoulder. “He’s really pleased, I’m telling you.” Suddenly, the ratman’s face came lined and his brow dropped down. “Wow, you’ve grown quick, you have. I swear you weren’t this tall before.”
Silas slouched immediately and gave what he hoped was a disarming smile. “Must be your imagination. Maybe the stress has put a few inches on me though.”
“Could be, could be.” The cousin laughed and clapped him across the back, now softly pushing him forward. “Come on, let’s go. Your destiny is about to change, cousin - trust me.”
“I will,” Silas replied, deciding to see where this went. It would be difficult anyway to knock this ratman out and escape with all the passersby nearby, and it sounded like a boon had just landed in his lap so he would be a fool to decline it. Perhaps he would even get a chance to spy upon Xe’Hekon, the most dangerous sorcerer here, before he slipped away.
“So how did you escape?” the cousin asked, eyes glittering and voice tight with excitement. “I was distraught when I heard you had disappeared and your mates slaughtered. Others not so much, but I was, cousin. Then we hear news you’re alive, and everyone’s thrilled all of a sudden as if they had given a rat’s arse about you before. You know what it is?”
“No,” Silas replied, bemused by this ratman. He had asked a question but then proceeded to give Silas no opportunity to answer. All the better, though, since this information could prove useful in the future.
“This is restricted information, right,” the cousin continued in a lower, conspiratorial tone. “But word is the human who invaded our territory is that Silas Wycliffe.”
Silas severely tensed up, his eyes gaining a frenzied light. “What?!”
“I know right,” the cousin nodded, completely misunderstanding his concern. “They say fear of the unknown is the worst, but here it’s worse knowing, isn’t it? But think about it, which other human in the area could have done that? Sneaking into our territory, senselessly slaughtering, and escaping even after our alarm went up. He’s a nasty one, he is. But when the scanners checked the records, there’s no mention of his presence here.” He paused with expectant eyes, no doubt waiting for Retil to ask with suspense.
The human humoured him, “So it’s not Silas?” Meanwhile, his hand rested on the machete on his swordbelt. His spear was hooked with the recurve bow on his back to allow easier movement.
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The cousin leaned in and raised a finger. “But there’s no record of the murderous human who came into our territory either - they somehow came and left without a presence. So the best guess is it’s Silas anyway since the appearance and speed that the other troops who witnessed his escape mentioned match that dastardly Duellist’s. The real fear is over how he managed to wipe his presence - he’s not a trained sorcerer to raise mana barriers, especially not one to last that long, so the only other way is if he had the prophet’s aid…”
The statement brought little reaction from Silas, which itself elicited a great, animated reaction from the cousin who jumped into his face. “Think about it, the humans and mycelia working together! The humans are little to worry about by themselves, but if the prophet is really working with them, they could wipe us out before the reinforcements get here.” He shook his head softly in worry.
“But I thought Talis wanted to fight them,” Silas said, somewhat calmed now since it was clear they hadn’t foiled his disguise just yet. He wished he had kidnapped this cousin instead of Retil. They both had loose mouths, sure, but this ratman also appeared well-connected to all the grapevines in Ratterinks.
The cousin scoffed, batting a dismissive hand. Despite this, he glanced over their surroundings before speaking. “Talis is a downright failure, he is. Of course, he’s eager to fight the mycelia - he completely fucked it last time, thinking he had wiped them out and all, before they re-emerged even stronger. Do you remember that grand party he had then, about outwitting the prophet and all?” The ratman snickered. “Idiot Bravo. He wants to try and claim some of his pride back by clearing out the mycelia for good before his uncle comes, but they will give him no chance, they will. They will keep to their tactic of creeping into our territory and bombing our troops, rapidly scattering every time we try and strike at their heart.”
Then, as if remembering himself, the cousin whacked his own head. “What am I saying, Retil? You’re the soldier; you already know this. But you know how I am when my mouth gets going.” He rapidly snapped his thumb against the rest of his fingers in a gesture of a chatterbox. “I’ll let you talk now. Tell me how you escaped Silas - there are few who can claim the same here.”
Silas smiled, incredibly pleased inside. Not only had the cousin confirmed that Talis would fall for a bait if they could set it up, he had also given an idea of why the ratkin had failed to wipe out the mycelia from the area so far. Silas was really beginning to think of ideas he could lure Retil’s cousin to leave Ratterinks, even for a moment, so that he could kidnap him too - he was a wealth of knowledge that was too valuable to be left alone. Either way, he retold his fake story of escaping Bandit now, the cousin heartily clapping Silas on the back towards the end of it.
“You’re a true Smallfoot, Retil, you are. Stupid of the human to think you would just lie pretty and let that bird beast carry you away. No wonder grandpa’s chuffed. Although I wonder where it was taking you if not Riverside since it should have reached there based on how long it was flying.”
“Huh, no clue,” Silas said, only now noticing the hole in his story. Still, he figured acting ignorant should be enough to cover his tracks.
“They say Riverside’s acting up for sure, definitely readying for another war after their taste of massacring Lyfort,” the cousin continued, “They managed manastone edged weapons from that, you know? That’s where Silas got the weapon he used against your mates. It’s a load of bullshit that the System restricts the weapons we can make, but luckily Riverside shouldn’t get much further with their research. You know, cousin Cryler is one of the agents they’ve sent to sabotage the humans’ progress. I haven’t a clue how she was chosen though - remember all the times she’s cut herself just scratching her nose? A fool, she is.”
The meaning behind the words dawned thunderously on Silas’s thoughts like bleak clouds sprinkling murky droplets of doom. If he had created a ratman bodysuit to sneak into Ratterinks, what was to say the ratkin hadn’t created human bodysuits to sneak into Riverside? How long had their agents been feeding information back here? No wonder they knew so much about him. Elise had feared just as much after seeing how realistic his bodysuit had ended up being, but now Silas had confirmation that her fears were true. “Yeah, think of how many ways Cryler could out herself,” he said, praying the ratman wouldn’t detect the tension in his voice.
“Too many. It’s good that those bodysuits are mostly foolproof. As long as she stays out of vision of anyone with crazy high perception, she should be safe.” The cousin’s answer was not what Silas had been hoping for, but before he could ask anything more, they came to Hel’Tier’s manor as the guards at the gate opened way for the young lords. “Good to be home, eh, cousin?”
Silas gave a weak smile and followed him down the crazy paving driveway, the manor itself a splendid building that had three tall storeys. It sprawled wide and had whitewashed walls, its structure made of massive Lego pieces that fitted together to give a cubic, edged appearance. A fact impossible to ignore, it was also one of the nearest manors to the temple, a grand dark structure looming above, giving more strength to the idea that Hel’Tier was an influential sorcerer even amongst his peers.
Besides the generous number of guards around the manor, there were also a great many of Hel’Tier’s extended family who waved and grinned at Retil’s appearance. However, none of them tried to stop him and talk in length as they all clearly respected their patriarch’s wishes to see Retil as soon as possible. The cousin who had brought him here fortunately continued walking beside him, much to Silas’s thanks as he would have otherwise been hopelessly lost and blown his cover. Inside the manor, the cousin eventually stopped in front of an ornately designed stone doorway with decorations of fire, slavering ratmonsters, and a hooded sorcerer in its centre.
The ratman nodded vigorously, beady eyes slightly tearing up. “Best of luck, Retil. I always knew you were in for some great things, and here’s your chance. Don’t blow it, cousin.”
Silas offered him a smile and pushed against the door, finding it heavier than he had expected. Regardless, he was far stronger than the average man and ratman, creaking it open with some more strain. It revealed a well-lit tunnel beyond, leading even deeper underground, its steps wide and marbled. Silas blew a tense breath and stepped in; he had risked everything by making contact with Retil’s family instead of keeping a distance like Elise and Rolf had urged, so now it was time to see whether his altered plan would pay off.