“Come on Kint.” Elsha growled, pulling him out the door. Kint was still parsing through his emotions at the summons, happy to be dragged along down the stairs and out of the building.
Did they know who he was? Was he in some kind of trouble? All these years without a word, why did they call him up now? Was it the Syfeeli case? Had he tipped his hand by using his power? The Merchant and the Lord had been connected for a time…
Kint's thoughts swirled in panic as Elsha pulled him through the crowd outside and around the block. They reached a large stone stairway leading into the ground with an arched sign above its entrance, “Root Access” It read. They moved down into the tunnels below. The barren gray walls of stone made Kint uncomfortable. The lack of variance. The unnatural feeling of it all. They walked some distance until they came to a much larger vaulted tunnel of similar grays. All the walls in this room were of the same stone except for the one on the other side of the tracks, which was formed from a rich brown wood, a Root of the Stalwart Tree itself. The wood created a smooth arch over the rail system where it connected with the drab stone ceiling. A group of citizens stood waiting on the platform in front of the tracks in anticipation of the oncoming vessel.
Kint and Elsha moved up to stand with the rest. Neither of them spoke, both keen to spiral in their own shadows. The ground vibrated. It felt like the earth was harmonizing with Kint’s bones as the vessel arrived. Kint did not like the Root System, and because of this he seldom used public transit. But, every time he did, he realized again why the vessels that moved along the rails were called ‘Tubes’. There was nothing else you could call them because that was all they were. Just a set of three long silver cylindrical capsules, raised onto a track and powered by steam. To Kint’s eyes it epitomized every public works project to come out of the Ignatium in the last two centuries. Ruthless in its practicality.
The three cars slowed to stop, a metal door at the center of each was wrenched aside to reveal two men and a woman, all dressed in pristine white suites with the crest of the Overseer's, a gold pentagon with the Stalwart Tree in the center, stitched on their right breast. The Tube attendants motioned for people to move back as several patrons exited each car. After a few moments, the attendants stood aside and motioned for the waiting travelers to enter. Kint and Elsha were some of the last to board the center cylinder, both lost in thought.
They entered the vessel, turning left to walk through rows of leather cushioned benches to each side. The benches faced toward the Ignatium, where the train was heading. About a third of them were occupied. Kint found the closest open seats to the door and slid in to sit down, Elsha following behind.
With all the passengers boarded, the Attendant moved back onto the train and heaved the door shut. Then he stepped over to a steel pillar, about the width of a fist, that rose to just above his waist with a rounded clear crystal laid into the top. Kint heard a bell ring from the lead tube. At the tone the Overseer pressed a hand to the clear crystal and to Kint’s eyes it began to glow. There was no noise to accompany it, but the Tube started to move along the rails, gaining speed as it went.
Knowing what he did about the flow of magical energy, Kint had a rough idea about how the Root System worked. Apparently, when the steam rail system had been invented 150 years prior, it was touted as a perfectly efficient system of movement. Using Water, Wind, and Fire Mages allowed the system to consume very few resources. Water could be heated and rapidly converted to steam, that steam would then propel the engines, and then be cooled back to water, without any loss of energy from the system. Of course, that was only if you didn’t include the efforts of the lowly Wavers as a loss of energy. An oversight often seen in Apostle tech.
As the vessel accelerated, Kint could see the Overseer's strained expression fade as they reached their ultimate traveling speed. Kint observed the man a little longer. He was of middle age, with long graying brown hair flowing over his shoulders, a common style among those from the outer Agricultural districts. He stood up straight, shoulders sturdy, a model public servant. But after the acceleration period was over, the concentration left the man's eyes, and a passionless void grew behind them. This was just another tired waver like the old courier from yesterday, or the laborers he’d seen in the District Square, although this man didn’t have the same purple rings under his eyes as them.
Kint couldn’t blame the man for his lack of enthusiasm, the Tube was simply a machine. There was no beauty to it, no artistry to its design, no care in its creation. Nothing about the rail system was natural, other than the sacred wood from which its tunnels were cut. The Tube was simply a machine built to transfer human cargo from the edge of Kaden City to its stalwart heart. The Attendants were but a cog in that machine, a resource to be consumed by the Apostles creation.
Kint’s thoughts spun this way for the first few stops of the trip. The serious silence of the other passengers in the cabin helped to foster his dower mood. Even though the 13th Vorvan District was 5 districts into the city from the Tube’s first stop at the outside edge, the room was less than a quarter full. Most of the passengers were stiff business men and women dressed in everything from dull wool pants and button up vests, to bright cloaks and pressed jackets. All had skin that was caked in varying layers of makeup, meant to make them look tan. The only conversation they made on this late morning train was a whisper here and there.
Kint would have liked it if there were some agricultural types on the Tube to loosen up the atmosphere, anything to distract him from his spiraling thoughts. But the folks in the edge districts took the Tube less than he did. The only thing that moved inwards from them was the goods that were produced in their fields, and those goods were primarily transported via the vast network of river channels that crisscrossed the City. Fertile soil and easy access to those channels made it so the residents of the Edge Districts rarely had to leave and kept those districts ranked in the top five of productivity for the houses that ran them.
Districts like the 13th Vorvan and the 11th Inkhold District were distinctly lacking in access to riverways or resources like fertile land, which was a primary reason they were ranked as the 11th and 13th districts for those houses respectively. Since the dawn of the Noveriat, the 78 districts of Kaden City had been split evenly among the houses and ranked by productivity. A method of city planning that puts an emphasis on competition within and between the houses in hopes of maximizing the prosperity of each district. Historically this had worked fairly well, however, districts like the 13th Vorvan, with no river access, no culture of arts, or trade in specialized goods, had eventually been seen as economically landlocked and unlikely to prosper with almost nothing to offer besides the labor of their residents. But in the 15 years Lord Crecius had been the steward of the District, his inventions had caused prosperity to bloom. So much so that the brightly colored, supposedly better tanned merchants, had almost all entered the Tube with the two Inspectors.
Despite this budding prosperity, it seemed to Kint’s eye that many of these supposedly successful merchants had faces as haggard as any laborer in the district. With nervous, downcast eyes, and rumpled clothing, the air of success that these people usually tried to exude was significantly dulled.
Kint caught himself noticing these imprefections, the piece of a darker narrative forming in his mind. He shook his head to clear it. It was not healthy for him to think this way. He needed the atmosphere in the room to change soon or he would truly begin to spiral. His eyes frantically glanced from one passenger to the next, each mirroring the inhuman aura of this artificial cage back at him. He looked over to Elsha, who would usually have made an off-color quip about his mood by this point, but she was in her thoughts, as well. A look of disquiet on her face. Her condition was not so pronounced as his, but she was certainly distracted, and in need of a change. That change would not come for several stops, however, as this area of economic landlock had a few more districts to go.
After over an hour of excruciating silence, Kint sweating over all of the worst possible reasons there would be for their summons, eventually the change did come. But not until they reached the last third of their trip, as the Tube passed under the outside of the Canopy of the Stalwart Tree and into The Shade.
The Shade was a group of 20 Districts that were almost permanently enshadowed by the canopy of the Stalwart Tree. There were no economic dead zones in The Shade. Every district had waterways a plenty, astronomical amounts of wealth, and 800 years of stacking creativity and culture. Across the Noveriat, there was a saying that ‘everything under the sun could be found in The Shade’ which was only partially true. The truth was, that not only did those 20 districts have everything you could want or need, they had the best of everything.
Only the Ignatium was said to have better, but for all their amenities and magics even the Apostles ventured down into the Shade, for it had a unique quality that the Ignatium did not. There were only two times of Day in the Shade, Dusk, and Night. Originally it was just night, but about 200 years ago the Apostles had created a mesh of red crystal lights that glowed during the day creating the feeling of dusk throughout the day. This addition had been made to help with productivity in The Shade, as there were some districts that focused on crafts and educational pursuits, and the forever darkness made it difficult to delineate between the hours of work and those of pleasure.
Upon entering this mess of wealth, prestige, and partying, the mood of the cabin changed. At the first stop under the canopy, a group of five scholars entered, all wearing long flowing robes of black, brown, and white, to indicate their level of education, and scarves almost as long as bed sheets, that had different colors and patterns to indicate their area of study. They picked a few seats near the back of the cabin and began excitedly discussing some scholastic pursuit or another, breaking the oppressive silence of the previous hour.
Next came a few Puffs of house Korth wearing loose fitting military uniforms, dragging several Pleasure Maidens and Men, in toe. These Korth brats were commonly called Puff’s because of the puffs of lace and frippery that they added to the Stern military clothing of House Korth. Puff’s were the layabouts of the Korth family, given little status in the staunchly Meritocratic House but still afforded the prestige and wealth of Blessed blood. They moved up towards the front of the car and chose to stand, holding handles bolted to the roof for balance. Their boisterous laughter and air of comfortable charisma, brought Kint’s mind more to the present.
At the third stop, the stiff suited Attendant opened the door and was jostled aside by a group of three men as they pushed onto the Tube. Each was wearing a mish mash of brightly colored tight fitting clothing. Their expensive garments were ripped and torn in such specific ways that it could only some type of fashion. They stumbled in laughing, choosing a group of seats right next to Kint and the still unsettled Elsha.
The aged Inspector grimaced as they sat down, and immediately started talking, voices loud enough to carry across the room. Kint could see that even the Puffs at the other end of the Cabin were irritated.
As the vessel accelerated to its cruising speed, the three men began to snicker, looking over at Elsha, and then back and forth to each other in glee. Their half whispered words carried to Kint’s ears and he was able to make out what the group was discussing. An amused grimace cracked his grizzled face. He was excited to see how this would go.
“Um excuse me, Miss.” Came the voice of the man sitting across the Aisle from Elsha.
“Excuse me… Miss Inspector.” The lordling asked with a small slur to his words.
Elsha did not react. Still staring in consternation at the back of the seats in front of them.
The dark haired young man’s lip twitched in irritation, obviously not used to being ignored. He had naturally tan skin that shone with sweat and slicked back hair that landed around his ears. He wore only a pair of silk pants and a button up vest without a shirt under it. It was obvious the young man was headed home after a long night of partying, but it looked like he wanted to try his hand at finding companionship one more time before the night was over.
He glanced back at his friends in irritation, saying “I thought these Inspectors were supposed to be observant.” He sneered, hisses of laughter coming in reply. “This invalid doesn’t seem to realize the specimen of breed and class she has beside her. Even citizens from a Vorvan district should be able to spot an opportunity such as this.” He smirked again, his sycophants snickering in reply.
When Elsha continued to ignore him the Lordlings lips turned down to a frown. Eventually, he reached across the aisle and began snapping his fingers in front of the blond Inspectors face, finally rousing her from nightmares.
She turned toward him, a startled look on her face.
“Well she’s not daft at least.” The man joked, another chorus of cruel laughter spilling from his friends.
The beautiful Inspector quickly regained her composure. A predatory smile danced on her lips as she looked the young man up and down.
“I’m terribly sorry, my lord.” She started, eyebrows pulling up in exaggerated earnestness. “I did not mean to offend. I just lose myself in these flights of fancy you see. The world of the mind is just so much more interesting than this wretched carriage.” She continued, donning the affect of a vapid courtier like a tailored suit. “Had I but realized a man of such dignity and class would sit down beside me… well that’s far more interesting than anything my mind could conjure.” She gave the Lordling a meaningful look, words enticing with every syllable.
“I…I…” The man’s hitched up a bit at Elsha’s sudden change in character. The youth was having a hard time squaring the beautiful Inspector from a Vorvan District speaking with the flirtatious charm of a courtier.
“My lord.” She cut in with that sultry innocence, leaning toward him. “Was there something you wished to ask of me?”
The young man’s mouth hung open for a bit before he was able to compose himself, pushing a hand through his dark hair. He cleared his throat, saying “Yes, well. I– I wanted to introduce myself.” He stammered, turning his body to face her more directly. “My name is Carl Inkhold Clearee, I'm an ascending scion of the Inkhold family.” He announced puffing out his chest at the boast.
Elsha gave the slightest ‘coo’ of interest, spurring him on.
“And… and I was wondering if I might… If you would permit me the pleasure of calling on you.”
“Oh my lord.” She replied, with a shy smile splitting her lips. “The pleasure would be mine, certainly.” The young man blushed at her implication. She continued, “But my lord, for one of such station as yours, I would much prefer to be the one calling. With my status being so far from your own lofty perch.”
One of the young man’s friends jostled him from behind in a congratulatory gesture. The Lordling smiled, responding “But of course, Lady Inspector. I would be happy to service you… be of service to you, any time you call.” He grinned, proud of his innuendo.
“My lord.” She exclaimed in shock and amusement. The boy smiled greedily, feeling himself quite the catch.
“Lady Inspector, if we are to spend meaningful time with one another. I must know your name.” He inquired.
“Oh I could not possibly say it, I’m too embarrassed.” She quibbled.
“Come now…” He assured her. “Just whisper it in my ear, I won't tell.” He said ,with a coy smile.
The two leaned toward each other across the aisle. Elsha reached out with her left hand, brushing it through the young man’s hair to rest on the side of his neck.
“My name…” She whispered, loud enough for Kint and the Man’s friends to hear. “Is Elsha Vorva Gray.” The lordling’s eyes widened in shock, his neck stiffened as Elsha’s grip firmed around it. “I am so happy to have gotten the opportunity to meet such a powerful young scion of the Inkhold family. My father will be so happy to make such a valuable connection.”
“Your– your father being… Kafalan Gray.” The boy stammered, sweat beginning to bead on his face as his heartbeat quickened.
“The very same.” She cooed, as her sharp nailed thumb caressed his thumping jugular. “Now… If I were to tell him of the dignity and class you have shown me and the other passengers of this Tube today, I think the time we might spend together would be 'meaningful' in a very different way. Don't you agree?” She asked.
The Inkhold boy nodded his head slightly, neck pressing against Elsha’s thumbnail as he did.
“Hmm… Yes. Smart boy.” She whispered.
Kint saw a gulp go through the young mans throat as Elsha's lethal hand remained.
“It’s a shame that our budding relationship had to be cut short like this. But I’ll be sure to keep an eye on you and your friends in the future. So don’t act as you did today with anyone else, eh?” She questioned, to more enthusiastic nods from the whole group this time. “Good.” She chirped, letting go of his neck and leaving a spot of blood behind where her thumb had been. “Because if I hear your names again, whether it be good or bad… I will call on you.” She finished. The boy’s faces went pale at her words. They all gave serious nods of ascent once more before turning to look straight ahead as Elsha turned back to Kint.
“Feeling better?” Kint asked in amusement.
“Yes.” She responded after a bit of thought. “Quite a bit, actually.”
Kint grunted a laugh. “I haven’t heard you use your family name like that before.” He commented.
“Normally I wouldn’t… Father's got Creepers everywhere, and this is bound to get back to him.” She began, before pausing. “But, I guess family was already on my mind.” She finished with an uncertain smile.
Kint grunted in reply, letting the silence of earlier return. This time, however, it was not as oppressive as before. Elsha’s little engagement had rebalanced Kint’s mood as well as her own.
After a long moment she turned, giving Kint a meaningful look. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, you know.” She said.
“How do you figure that, under a black sealed Summons.” he emphasized, giving her a side eyed look.
“Exactly.” She replied, “It’s a Black Sealed Summons. For most Citizens it would be the honor of a lifetime to serve their Lord on the Order of a Black Seal.”
“I’m Forty-Five Elsha, I don’t want praise or accolades.” Kint grumbled. “At this point, I just want stability.”
“You think I don’t want the same?” She questioned, voice rising in irritation. “I quite liked things as they were… I’m just saying, a Black Sealed summons isn’t the kind of call to adventure they make it out to be in the stories. If a command comes in a Black Seal, a good Lord will have chosen an emissary with the proper skills to carry it out…” Her face grew pensive as she continued. “Although I can’t think of what those skills might be in our case.”
“Is he a good Lord?” Kint asked, thinking back on the Crier's words from this morning. “I mean, do you know anything about him besides the District Propaganda?”
“Actually, I do have something to add there.” She chimed in, “The Lord of the 4th Doene District is an old friend from my days in The Shade. He says that Crecius thinks of him as some sort of rival.”
“Really?” Kint said, surprised. “What does he have to say about our brilliant Lord?”
“Well, he is brilliant, there’s no doubt about that.” Elsha responded in earnest. “Beqeer, says he’s the smartest man he ever met. But apparently he’s a bit soft, which makes it hard for him to succeed politically.”
“How does that work?” Kint asked. He might think he had a decent grasp of politics, but Elsha was raised in it.
“In the games of the Ignatium the innocent are eaten alive.” The beautiful woman answered, mouth untainted by the cruel words. “Although I’m sure he’s changed somewhat, I doubt he’d have lasted this long and not developed any sharp edges.”
Kint nodded carefully, his nerves calming a bit. The knowledge that Crecius might be more benevolent than other lords gave Kint some comfort as they drew closer to their destination.
It took them another half an hour to get to the Central Station at the base of the Stalwart Tree. As they’d moved through the last few stops, well dressed Merchants, Lords, Ladies, and a few Priests of the Prophet had boarded the transport. The priests were not like the Criers Kint had seen in the District Square. These ones wore pristine white hooded robes of the finest quality, with the golden symbol of the Stalwart Tree emblazoned on their chests as if it were struck from Gold leaf, which it probably was.
As the Tube came to a stop the bell rang from the front carriage and the Attendant called out that this was the final stop, we’d arrived at Stalwart Station. Once the Attendant had opened the heavy steel door, people began to spill out onto a similar stone platform to the one in District 13. When Kint and Elsha stood, they were immediately swept away in the moving mess of people. Filing out the doors, into the stone vaulted room, and through another drab stone corridor like the ones they’d seen before.
Kint’s mood began to sour again as they were carried forth, so much so that Elsha asked “What has you so grumpy.”
“I’m not a fan of the decor.” Kint grumbled, to which he got a giggle in reply.
After they’d walked about a hundred paces down the long dim stone corridor, Kint could see a set of stairs with a bright light shining down through them at the other end of the line of people. As they drew closer, he could hear the low murmur of a large crowd moving above. Kint and Elsha stepped onto the stairs and the murmur began to rise as they rose toward the light.
Kint’s breath caught in his chest upon cresting the stairs. His mind could not completely understand what his eyes were seeing. He felt himself being jostled from both sides as people pushed passed him out into the massive crowd of thousands walking around the ground floor in the hollowed out center of the Stalwart Tree.
“Welcome to the Core.” Elsha smiled, as Kint tried to take in the spectacle that shown bright before him.
The Core was an enormous circular structure, a massive room with a diameter measured in miles and a roof that could not be seen as it extended so high that there was a layer of cloud cover below the ceiling. Those clouds above were lit with a light yellow color from massive chandeliers that hung both within the clouds and farther down towards the ground level. The enormous light fixtures were made up of thousands of magical lighting crystals that hummed with a comfortable glow. In between the fixtures was a massive array of circular glass tubes that extended all the way into the ceiling sky. Within these tubes were massive flat circles upon which hundreds of people stood, all being pushed up or lowered through the cylinders by massive steel pillars extending from the floor below.
“Come on.” Elsha said, as she grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him along. “Those are what we call Vines.” She explained, pointing up towards the glass tubes around them. “They are arranged in a pattern of six concentric circles and sectioned off to the five Branches owned by the Apostle Houses and the Administrative Branch. We’re going to the center circle, which services the Branch Capitals.” She finished, pulling him through crowds, past small restaurants, and around massive art installations of glass and steel.
“Where do the other circles go?” Kint asked in wonder.
“From the center out it goes, Branch Capitals, Research, Education, Business, Entertainment, and Residential.” She answered. They walked for several minutes, and the more Kint looked around, the more he was amazed at the marvels he saw. Kint had never been here before, and the sight that had greeted him was so different from what he’d imagined. He thought with the rusted and steam spewing Messaging Network and Aqueduct systems that extended down from the canopy like thousands of silk threads, the Apostles' work on the inside of the Tree would be just as crude. But it was so clean, with obvious effort to make the Core aesthetically pleasing as well as efficient. He felt his views on Apostle technologies shifting with every step.
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Something caught his eye however, that made him pause.
“Where do those go?” Kint asked, as he watched a group of commonly dressed laborers in the Purple and black of House Vorva, stand on a railed off circular platform that began to descend into the ground.
“Those are the Wavers that keep this place running.” She responded. “Down below are 5 layers of key infrastructure that support all the major magical technologies of the city, including the Core Information Nexus.”
“Mmm.” Kint grunted in response. He got the feeling that going up on the Vines was a lot better than going down.
“What else is down there?” Kint asked. Elsha looked at him, confused. Kint pointed toward the descending Vine where an Acolyte in the Forest Green and Gray of house Syfone had hopped on at the last minute.
“I said there were five levels of infrastructure, but there are many more below that.” She gave an impish grin before leaning in to whisper, “There are hundreds of miles of secret tunnels that extend all over the city from here.”
“Seems like a lot of effort.” Kint noted as they moved through the crowd.
“I think you’d be surprised what a Crafter Class mage can accomplish in a day.” She replied.
The two Inspectors arrived at the center circle to find six glass Vines, one per Family plus the Administrative Branch. The Vorvan Branch lift was marked with the purple and black owl and quill of the Vorva Family. There were over a dozen people waiting for the lift as it descended from a previous trip, only the lift Attendant present as it fell. The people waiting ranged from business people in pressed suits with capes, to Priests with their shining white and gold Robes.
As the platform slid down to meet them at ground level, the lift Overseer moved from the center of the platform where a similar steel pillar to the one that powered the Tube system jutted form the ground. He stood in front of where the new passengers had gathered in a semi-organized queue, wearing the same pressed white suit with the gold pentagonal sigil at his breast as the other attendants had. The man leaned forward and pressed his hand to the glass in front of him, he closed his eyes to focus for a moment before a large rectangular section of the glass tube began to descend into the ground, creating an entrance for the passengers.
“Don’t ask me how they do that one.” Elsha quipped, giving Kint an amused look.
The grizzled inspector realized that his mouth had dropped open at the sight of the seemingly simple magic. Not wanting to look too naive, he moved quickly to Elsha’s side as she boarded the platform with the others.
Everyone standing firmly on the platform, the Attendant put his hand to the glass again and the open section rose from the ground until it seemed the door was never there. The crowd parted as the white suited man moved to the center of the platform, placing his hand on the clear spherical crystal that sat upon the control pillar. That look of concentration came to the Attendants face again and the platform began to rise.
It was an unsettling feeling for Kint, as his knees felt a slight pressure from the shift in momentum. Elsha had made sure they were standing at the outside edge of the platform so Kint could see out through the glass as they rose 20, 30, 40 feet into the air. Kint thought he might be afraid, but he wasn’t, just astonished to be rising through the air, marveling at the people below as they bustled about like ants.
The lift did not move very quickly. It felt to Kint like the slow rise was on purpose so that the passengers could admire the view. However, most of the passengers on the Vine must have been used to this journey because they stood toward the center of the platform talking amongst themselves in little cliques. As they ascended to about halfway up the massive tree’s trunk, they passed several of the enormous glowing chandeliers that hung from the ceiling like crystalline dandelions. Kint moved to get closer to the glass but stopped himself, catching the amused look on Elsha’s face. He grumbled at her in irritation as they continued to rise.
A few minutes later they were approaching the cloud layer that hung below the ceiling of the Core. Kint looked up as they entered, surprised to see the shadows of shapes moving around within the mist. He squinted as one of the shapes approached and was surprised to find that it was a human child. A young man about his daughter's age floated towards their Vine, he was dark of hair and wore a flowing shirt and tunic of purple and black. A cheeky grin spread across his face as he saw Kint’s slack jaw. The next moment, the boy turned around and soared towards a group of almost a dozen other shadows weaving between the cloud covered Vines.
“Never seen a Crafter before?” Elsha asked, as Kint looked on in shock.
“I’ve never seen this many.” Kint admitted. “How do they stay in the air this long?”
“The benefits of Blessed Blood.” Elsha chirped. “Most of us are born with the potential to be Crafters, even those in families distant from the main branch. A few have the talent to become Masters, but all of us have deep wells of energy. At least tenfold more than the best Kadenite stock can offer.”
Kint felt the hair rise along his arms. The Apostles really were a different breed.
“Don’t get too caught up in it.” Elsha said, cutting through his thoughts. “We have our idiots and assholes just like everybody else.”
Kint grunted a laugh. Looking up as they neared the wood ceiling of the Core. The platform continued to move slowly towards a dark hole in the wood, eventually pushing them in and sealing them in darkness. The only light to see by was the low glow of the crystal beneath the concentrating Vine Attendant's hand. It took several more minutes before a door slid open above them, letting the harsh white light of the sun into the hole, blinding them as they crested to their destination and came to a halt.
“Welcome to the Ignatium.” The Vine Attendant said as the passengers began stepping off the platform in every direction. Kint had to blink repeatedly before his eyes were able to adjust to the bright sun and clear skies. But when they did, he could only stand in amazement. Before him was a long pathway leading towards the Vorvan Branch capitol building. The path was almost half a mile long and 100 feet wide. It was made of polished marble, and lined on either side with towering redwood trees that created the feeling that the pathway was actually a corridor.
Kint looked over to his partner, who also stood still, but for different reasons it seemed. That look of concerned consternation had returned, as her eyes stared blankly at the tree lined corridor.
Kint jostled her shoulder saying “Come on, I think this thing is gonna head down soon.” As he moved onto the Marbled walkway.
“Right.” She said in a distant tone.
They made their way down the glistening street in silence, following behind the other passengers who were far ahead. Kint could not help but gawk as he spotted Apostles flying high overhead. His eyes opened even further as they saw where the Lords where moving moving to land.
The Capitol was a marvel of magical building. The exterior architecture of the structure was that of stacking spirals of blue glass and marble, all swirling dozens of stories into the sky. As his eyes followed the ascending design, he noticed that the glass spirals unfurled at the top of the building like a blooming lily, and from each petal bloomed a waterfall that crashed down to a moat that surrounded the Vorvan Capitol. The true miracle was that the water that crashed down as a waterfall, ascended by no means he could see. It simply flowed along the spiraling glass between the marble sections, with nary a ripple to mark its movement. It was like the glass and water were one.
“Kint.” Elsha chided, as she pulled him toward the bridge that led to the double doored entryway.
They stepped into the massive building, walking several hundred feet through an art lined corridor, toward the open center of the circular building. The core of the Capitol reminded Kint of the Core of the Stalwart tree they’d just risen through. Except it was only about a thousand feet in diameter, and instead of glass vines lifting people up to specific floors, there was a simple helix shaped staircase. Kint found it odd that Apostles would choose to use the stairs when he’d seen so much magical technology that could make things easier. That was until he witnessed a tall handsome man in flowing black and purple robes similar to those worn by the scholars he’d seen on the ride over, stride confidently toward the outside edge of the core opening and stand on a slightly discolored marble square. He let out a breath through his nose as the man began to rise into the air on the ascending marble slab, being propelled from below by an extending stone pillar. When he reached his desired floor, he stepped out onto it and the pillar made its way back down to reconnect with the floor. That’s when he realized that the stairs were for everyone that didn’t have some magical means of ascent. Which, from what Elsha had said, pretty much just meant Kadenites.
Elsha led Kint towards a large circular vestibule in the center of the space, where a lanky man with gaunt features was standing.
“We have been summoned to meet with Lord Crecius of the 13th District.” She said flatly. “Which floor would that be?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “The 13th eh…” He droned, a hint of disgust tinged his voice. “That’ll be on this floor, you’ll need to go down to the end of that hall. You can’t miss it from there.”
Elsha gave a curt nod and began moving in the direction the lanky man had pointed. As they made their way down the long hallway, Kint couldn’t help but admire the beautiful mosaic’s that covered the walls, as well as the intricately detailed sculptures of stone and glass.
“What are you smiling about?” Elsha asked. Surprising Kint with the level of Vitriol in her voice. Looking over to her, he noticed she had a harried look about her. Eyes darting this way and that, as if in search of predators.
“I’m not smiling.” Kint grumbled.
“Well you certainly seem impressed.” She quipped, schooling herself to a more neutral tone.
“I am impressed.” Kint responded honestly. “It’s stunning, Elsha. I’m not comfortable here either but I can admit that much.”
Elsha gave a resigned sigh, saying “You're right, it is impressive, Kint. The Vorvan Capitol is unique even in the Ignatium.” She gave a solemn smile. “It was designed by Vatian himself.” She admitted.
Vatian, a man widely considered the greatest inventor in Noveriat history. Having designed both the Root Transportation System, as well as the Information Network, it was broadly acknowledged that he alone was responsible for ushering in this Third Age of the Noveriat. Kint had always had a poor view of the man, seeing as how dull and lifeless his inventions were below the Canopy. But, the beauty of this building alone might sway his mind.
“Hmm.” He grunted. “Then why get mad at me for enjoying it.”
“I’m sorry Kint.” She sighed, “It is a wonder…” She paused before muttering. “It’s the people in it that concern me.”
Kint let the comment lie. Mood significantly dulled by her words. Thoughts meandering back to the darkness of earlier. The black sealed message loomed larger in his mind as they arrived at the end of the long hallway.
The Corridor connected to a long curved hall that stretched out into the distance, bending so that the end wasn’t visible. The wall in front of the two inspectors was a single sheet of glass that stretched across the entire hall and into the distance. Kint thought he could make out the shapes of people behind that glass wall, but there was a constant motion of purple and black swirls that seemed to live within the glass that obstructed his view. The two colors crashed into and overlapped with each other like a battle of fresh and salt water across the large pane.
Elsha turned to the right, not waiting for him this time, moving purposefully towards a set of a dozen stiff back wooden chairs that sat against the inside wall opposite the glass. Like with the Vine’s there was no door that Kint could see, but when Elsha sat in the middle of the line of chairs, she stared into the living glass as if it would open at any moment. Kint sat down next to his partner, enraptured by the slow rolling tides of colors as they clashed in ever shifting swirls.
Sure enough, after a few minutes of waiting, the color show on the glass disappeared, and the long window became opaque, revealing the outline of a large adorned room within. Kint turned to his right, hearing footsteps on the marble floor as two men in the white and gold robes of the Church exited from an opening in the glass that had not been there before. They shuffled past the two inspectors, drawing hoods up over their heads.
Kint looked back to the door, seeing another man in a light gray robe who speaking a few parting words back into the room. The man gave a perfunctory bow before turning to leave with his fellow clergymen. After only a few steps however, he looked up, locking eyes with Kint, his stride hitching ever so slightly. There was a recognition there in those bright silver eyes. But it was gone just as quickly, the priest regaining his steady stride and moving past them with haste.
As the gray robed priest turned down the hall, Kint could feel the questioning gaze that Elsha was leveling on the back of his head. He pointedly did not aknowledge her open stare.
“Do you know him Kint?” She said in an astonished whisper, trying not to cause a disturbance in these hallowed halls, even though there weren’t any other people around. Kint gave a non-commital grunt in response. “Do you know Sceptor Grayson?” She asked again, her level gaze brooking no argument.
“Yes.” He replied in annoyance.
“Kint… He’s one of the youngest Sceptor’s in history, and one fo the most powerful people in the Vorvan Branch.” She said flatly, “I”m going to need more information than that. Were you in the clergy?”
“We were in the Academy together.” Kint admitted after a moments hesitation.
“The Academy?” She repeated, eyes widening. “The Breylock Academy?” She questioned.
Before Kint could answer, a rumbling voice came from the far side of the corridor.
“You may Entah.” Called an enormous man standing in the entryway. The man had to be over 7 feet tall, with dark ebony skin and low cut hair. He wore loose fitting black pants and a robe with no sleeves, revealing heavily muscled arms.
The two Inspectors stood quickly, feeling the pressure of this man’s gaze looming from across the hall. Their booted feet clacked on the marble floor as the gargantuan Acolyte stepped aside, gesturing them into the room.
The dark man stood aside side, taking his place next to the door as it slid closed behind them. Once the room was sealed the dancing battle of purple and black began again behind them. Kint scanned the broad width of the room. The Lord's office was slightly curved to, matching the shape of the building, and much deeper than he'd expected, extending at least fifty paces before another black and purple wall sprung up. Most of the room's space was focused to the right of the door, where a large sitting area was located, and beyond that what seemed to be some sort of workshop, with finished or half baked projects strewn all over. Kint couldn’t make out exactly what they might be for at this distance.
The room was relatively dark, with two crystal chandeliers, similar to the ones in the Core, on the right and left sides creating a sinister atmosphere, with long shadows creeping everywhere.
On the left hand side of the room, towards the back window, Lord Crecius sat behind a wide Mahogany desk. While Kint hadn’t expected Kalavan Korth, he was surprised by how unthreatening the man was in his appearance. He was slightly pudgy, dressed in loose fitting scholarly robes of Vorvan Purple. Kint saw that the Lord’s brown hair was balding at the top, as he leaned over his desk, scribbling precise markings with a flat edge.
The man behind the Lord however, now he was an intimidating sort. Completely bald, with a long face, sharp nose, and deep set brown eyes, so dark they were hard to see in the shadowy room. The man wore a gray and black vest with a black shirt, and no jacket. He must be held in high esteem to be allowed to walk around without a hint of the House's colors.
It was this man who gestured to the two stiff wooden chairs that sat spaced apart and some distance in front of the Lord’s desk. Kint rubbed his sweaty palms along his dark pants as he sat. But, he paused before he hit the chair, noticing something odd moving above him.
His brow furrowed as he observed the sprawling dark substance undulating in the air near the ceiling. The alien mass unsettled him greatly as it flowed, spreading and contracting in a thousand different directions, unable to be measured or categorized in the dim light. The best way Kint could think to describe the arcane thing was that it looked like hundreds of enmeshed pieces of silk cloth all circling around and through each other, slowly rippling and moving in a wind that Kint could not feel. The thing had a sinister air to it, individual extremities extending outward or down towards the ground like dozens of silken tentacles, weaving their way towards unsuspecting victims. It felt alive to him, the way the pieces swayed and moved, coiling and uncoiling around each other in random gyrations. Even with his wealth of knowledge in magical flows, Kint could not fathom how a thing like this was made.
After a few more moments of observing the unsettling mass, a nasaly voice cut through Kint’s dark infatuation.
“It won’t hurt you.” Said the Lord.
Kint’s butt finally hit the seat at the words, he looked up, hoping to meet the eyes of the speaker but the man hadn’t moved, still scribbling and sketching on the papers before him. Eyes locked on the page, one hand hard at work, the Lord raised his free hand, signaling his bald companion.
“Inspectors…” The Acolyte began in a cultured and commanding tone. “You have been called upon by his eminence, the Genius, Lord Crecius Vorva, to complete a task under a Black Sealed Summons. Do you understand what this entails?”
Elsha gave a solemn nod, Kint had less confidence, unable to match the movement.
The dark eyed man was unfazed, explaining “To a Kadenite, the Black Seal is the highest honor. It signifies that the Lord has a task of paramount importance, and that you all possess the attributes required to carry it out.” The man paused, his pit-like eyes monitoring their every move.
“I Beg your pardon.” Elsha cut in before the bald man could continue. “But, what attributes do we possess that the other Inspectors do not.” She asked.
One of the Acolytes eyebrows twitched in annoyance. “Do you doubt the judgement of our Lord?” He questioned.
She shook her head, no, but he continued to focus those dark eyes on her for several moments before he speaking again. The Lord’s pencil scratching away in the background as if nothing was happening.
“Good.” He confirmed, “Because only an idiot would question the subtle mind of Genius.”
Kint rubbed his hands on his knee’s in irritation. He hadn't been sure how he'd react when when he finally faced another Lord, but the fact that they were forced to speak with this Sycophant as opposed to the Lord himself, while the man was sitting right in front of them, showed the disdain the Apostles had for Kadenite’s. Kint understood that Lord Crecius’ time was valuable, and it wasn’t like he was just sitting there doing nothing, but… The aging Inspector took a silent breath to calm himself, it struck him that maybe the Crier’s words this morning had had more of an affect than he thought. His eyes drifted upward, he tried to trace the lines, find some pattern in the rippling undulations of the dark creeping mass to distract himself.
“Although, luckily for you Inspector Elsha, intelligence is not one of the attributes required to complete this task.” Kint’s hand tightened a bit on his left knee at the comment. “In fact, all that we need from you, is to do your jobs just as you have been.”
“Then why do you need–” Elsha began, before the Acolyte cut her off.
“Miss Gray.” He said sharply. “This is twice now—” The Acolyte stopped mid sentence. Kint looked down from the distracting darkness to see Lord Crecius had raised a penciled hand in pause. The Acolyte instantly lowered his head in deference. The Lord’s rounded face rose slowly from the pages on his desk. His head cocked to one side as his tired eyes locked with Elsha’s anxious ones. The Lord observed her in silence, much like his Acolyte had, except Kint could feel something different about Lord’s own gaze. There was a weight to it, a sharpness that spoke of intelligence, like he was dissecting you with his eyes, And something else too… something that made Kint uncomfortable.
“Elsha… Gray…” He sounded out the words. His deep voice had a nasaly quality to it. But that did not take away from its commanding timbre. “Elsha Vorva Gray, correct?” He asked, with no inflection to his words to give away their emotion.
Elsha nodded in response, Kint could see sweat on her brow. She was struggling under the weight of that gaze.
“The rambunctious rebel… back in the Ignatium at last.” He said, his voice soft like a whisper, but carrying across the room. “Still causing trouble I see.” In most cases, with a raised eyebrow or a small smile, Kint might see the comment as a joke, but there was no levity in the Lord’s worn eyes. Kint gripped his knee’s tighter, still unable to identify what was making him so uncomfortable about the man’s bloodshot gaze.
“You know your father was a great help to me when I first took on this District.” The Lord commented. “He bought the rights to some of my early inventions. Giving me the seed money to get the 13th back on its feet.” There was another tense pause. With how carefully Lord Crecius was Speaking and the time he took with every word, it was hard to know if he wanted a response.
“Really?” Elsha replied, a bit of a tremble to her words. “He’s a hard man to see.”
The Lord nodded in agreement, the intensity of his gaze not faltering for a second. Kint wasn’t sure if he’d seen the man blink.
“Yes. He was very generous to meet with me.” He stated, “But it helped a great deal that I had your older brothers to arrange everything.”
Elsha froze. Her face went sheet white at the words.
“For some reason they took a liking to me at the Holy institute.” The Lord continued. “Maybe they recognized my genius before I did.” He postulated. “Whatever it was, they took me under their wing and we had many drunken nights together… shared many secrets.”
Elsha sat painfully still, breath coming shallow through her chest.
“They told me all about all the fun they had with you as children.” He stated. Elsha flinched as if she’d been struck. Kint had never seen her like this. He felt his teeth grinding. He looked up at the swirling mass above, hoping again to find some distraction in its aimlessly grasping tendrils. But the shimmering mass of bile only seemed to match his mood.
“After such a childhood, I suspect control is of the utmost importance to one such as you.” He pondered. “So it makes sense that you would choose to stay among the Kadenites. Having realized how easily manipulated they are.” His words dissected her as his eyes had before. “You’ve built a nice life for yourself in my district. A safe one. Away from nasty power games.” He gestured to the dimly lit hall around them. “Being here must be an utter nightmare for you.” He finished. The man was unable to help it as a twitch of a smile chipped his stony face.
Kint continued to look up, fearing his eyes would give away his anger.
“And what of you, Inspector...?” The Lord asked, pausing to gestured toward the enshadowed Acolyte behind him.
“Inspector Kint Archaedis” The Acolyte spoke, filling in the gap.
“And what of you Inspector Kint.” He began again, “You seem to be more interested in my shadow than my words.” He gestured toward the mass of silken tentacles above.
Kint schooled his face, leveling his gaze toward the portly man. As their eyes met, the Inspector finally recognized what had unsettled him so much about the Lord's gaze.
It was the apathy.
That sickening emotionless gaze was like an echo from his memories. The man was utterly bored with this whole endeavor. Lowly Kadenite’s and wayward Apostle’s were unworthy of this time. It seems the only joy he’d gotten so far was in torturing young Elsha.
While his face remained unflinching, Kint had more difficulty schooling his tongue. “It’s an interesting toy, my Lord.”
As the words left his mouth Kint felt the room chill to a shiver. Stillness expanded over the room like an eruption. Everything froze. The swirling colors on the windows, the Lord's “shadow” above, even the tiny flecks of dust that fell around the crystal lamps had frozen in place. Lord Crecius’ face gave away nothing, but a micro-twitch of pressurized fury below his right eye. When the Lord spoke, his tone did nothing to acknowledge the change in atmosphere.
“‘Toy’.” He spoke, sounding out the word like he could taste it. “Why did you use that word… ‘Toy’.”
Kint’s anger had fled in an instant. A cold sweat replacing it.
“I…” Kint stumbled. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it before. I'm not much for words.”
The Lord’s eyes tightened on Kint, dissecting his response.
It was hard to fully comprehend the casual display of power that was occurring around him. It was clear now that the Lord himself had been controlling both the windows and the tentacled mass above with his own power. To do that for only a moment would exhaust a Waver class Mage. To do it simultaneously, consistently, for hours on end, and then drop the temperature of the entire room in a instant. Kint had never witnessed such power. The man must be a Wind Weaver, but to drop the temperature like that, the Inspector couldn’t fathom how it was done. One thing was for sure, Lord Crecius Vorva was a Master Mage.
After what seemed like an infinite space of time, the Lords eyes shifted to Elsha and an idea seem to light behind them.
“Do you have children, Inspector Kint?” The Apostle asked in that same flat tone. The apathy of early gone, replaced with a cold intensity.
“Yes, My Lord.” Kint replied, exerting considerable effort to get the words out in the stifling pressure of the room.
“A daughter.” The Lord stated, like it was a foregone conclusion. Kint nodded, confirming it.
Another smile quirked the portly man’s lips. He leaned back in his chair, nodding to himself and folding his hands over his belly in satisfaction.
“Discretion and Expediency.” The lord stated. “The Attributes that got you here are discretion and expediency. You both have much to protect, and little ambition. In fact, I’m led to believe that both of you run away from any sort of praise or success more diligently than most seek it.” He leaned forward as he spoke, picking up his pencil again and gesturing it toward the two of them. “Which serves my purposes perfectly. This not the kind of mission that wins you the adulation of your peers. It’s the kind of task that wins you and your loved one’s a swift and painful end should you speak of it.” His tired eyes roamed slowly across the two of them as they bathed in their own anxieties. “Discretion.” He repeated, pointing the tip of his pencil toward Elsha for emphasis, “and expediency.” He finished, pointing the pencil at Kint.
Then, as if nothing had changed, the Lord returned to his papers, the once threatening pencil now scritching away at the paper beneath it. Kint felt his heart rate slow a bit as the room returned to its normal temperature, and the magical artifacts began to move again. On queue, the bald Acolyte stepped forward again.
“Lord Crecius has gifted you with the task of investigating the double murder of his Acolytes in the 11th Inkhold District.” The slender man began, relaying the information in a matter of fact tone. “The two men were murdered in one of the Lord’s factory holding’s there. They were both Crafter Class Mages, which leads us to believe they were killed by another Mage. In his brilliance, the Lord has already deduced that this heinous crime is the work of an old rival.” The looming man said pointedly, “It is your job to interview the witnesses, follow up on every lead, and ultimately provide the evidence necessary to support this conclusion.” The Acolyte paused, as if either of them would have the will to question him at this point. “You will have three days to complete your investigation. We will expect a full report on the afternoon of the third day. As my Master has stated, Discretion and Expediency are the goal. So do not speak of this with anyone who is not immediately involved, and do not dally on leads that do not serve to prove what the Lord has already deduced. Is this understood?” He asked, his hollow eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them.
They both nodded.
“Good… then you will begin your work this afternoon.” He commanded. Reaching into a side pocket of his vest to pull out two gold seals with the House Vorva crest on them. “These are your sigils of the Black Seal. They are proof of your mission, and will get you what you need and allow you to go where you're needed." The two Inspectors rose and grabbed a sigil each. "We have sent two Acolytes ahead to assist you in whatever way they can. You will not fail us in this...” The man stated, allowing no argument. Not that either Inspector would have, both still reeling from their interactions with Lord Crecius.
“This way.” Came the deep country voice of the mountainous man behind them.
The two snapped out of their stupor, moving quickly towards the opening in the glass where the dark skinned man gestured. Leaving the dark touched room behind.