Rancour tried to avert his eyes from the alleyways, avoiding the sight of a slowly-starving man. His sunken eyes looked into the distance, unseeing and haunted. With his low aura reserves, his couldn’t fully keep up their energy demands. There’s no food in Danglawan.
He made it another few steps before he stopped with a heavy sigh. Returning to the man, Rancour squatted down and attempted to make eye contact. “Hey, do you want to lay down somewhere nicer? You look tired.”
The man stared past him, giving no indication that he heard Rancour. He likely didn’t have much longer to live.
Rancour picked up the man and started walking back to his inn. He’d pay for a bed for however much time the man needed. It’d at least be a peaceful death.
----------------------------------------
After they finish their drinks, Serena insists that they go watch a play at the amphitheatre. She doesn’t want to end her evening with Elle yet, and the shows usually have surprisingly good performers. Either way, Elle will probably like it.
She slings an arm around Elle’s shoulders. “Ah, that mead hit the spot! We should do this again sometime?”
“Yeah!” Elle giggles, her face flushed pink. She’s not drunk enough to be stumbling, but the rift-diver is definitely feeling the drinks. “This is so much fun. What play are we seeing?”
“No idea, it’ll be a surprise. Did you go to watch shows often back on Earth?”
Elle tilts her head, squinting at the sky in thought. “My high school sometimes put on musicals, so I did watch those. Movies were cheaper though most of the time.”
Serena smiles as Elle explains the idea of playing moving images without magic. Although she doesn’t get most of it, she can tell that the rift-diver likes talking about it, so she listens and asks questions.
The amphitheatre is a bit crowded by the time they arrive, loud with the audience’s chatter. Already cleared of snow, the centre stage stays currently empty, waiting for its performers. Serena leads them to sit at an empty spot at the back, squeezing between two groups of people. They don’t even feel cold with so many others in the stands.
As the sixth bell approaches, they fall into a comfortable silence, taking in the scenery. Serena looks down the aisle and sees a woman with hollowed cheeks and eye bags. Their gazes meet, and the traveller offers a sympathetic smile. It can’t be easy surviving off nutrition mixes from the Alchemist’s Guild.
A hush comes over the crowd as actors walk onto the stage. Dressed in colourful feathers from head to toe, a masked figure enters the stage, covered by so many layers that it’s hard to figure out their gender. When the actor starts sings, it’s a high, feminine voice that describes a dream of creation. The actor twirls and waves a ribbon, representing the world she’s crafting as the god Aris.
Then the drums start. She feels the beat vibrating through her bones, waking up her mind slowed by the mead. Actors dressed in a black, serpentine costume gallop onto the stage. Shiny from the attached scales, the costume’s head shows a fierce scowl, befitting the god of the void. She hears children giggle at the monster’s fake fangs and dramatic turns.
At first, Jrukell circles the stage, enjoying the freedom of space. Serena likes watching the actors’ jumps in succession which cause a beautiful ripple effect along the scales. Meanwhile, Aris continues ‘building’ in the centre, singing an enchanting solo.
The drums pick up as Jrukell turns and charges at Aris. Leaping into the air, the actor for the god of creation shows impressive strength by jumping over the beast. Aris’ song turns angry and sorrowful, destruction and loss of the world.
Facing the god of the void directly, Aris transforms their ribbon into a sword. The two deities circle each other, letting the audience see their intricate costumes from every angle. Aris stops singing as the drumbeat quickens.
Jrukell strikes first. The serpent’s head lashes out at the other god, forcing Aris to dodge with a twirl. Undeterred, the god of creation slashes the beast, sending magical sparks flying with every blow. Their battle is a beautiful dance of flips and choreographed attacks.
Serena turns her head so she can see Elle’s expression in her periphery. Completely caught up in the performance, the rift-diver tracks every movement with focused intensity, brown eyes widening at particularly high jumps and tumbles. Pretty much everyone in Arishelm remembers this story by heart, so it’s kind of cute to see Elle’s interest in this famous routine.
With one final blow, Aris sends the god of the void scattering into a rainbow dust cloud. The crowd cheers as magic transports the actors elsewhere, leaving only Aris onstage. Bowing her head, the actor begins the laborious process of rebuilding the world.
As she sings, the actor plucks feathers from her costume and throws them onto the stage. In a flash of magic, two actresses appear on stage. One woman is dressed in gold with a head dress shaped like the sun. The other wears silver robes and an elaborate hairdo. Everyone can tell that the Temple poured most of their money into the costume for Eurimas, but the other deities aren’t shabby either.
They show the typical story of Arishelm’s creation with more and more gods appearing as the actress for Aris rips off pieces of her costume. Each one has a chance in the stage’s centre. Venour the god of winds sends a gust across the audience, delighting the children. Manipulating metal, Kindroke the god of war performs a martial dance with sharp and fierce movements.
Although the show is professional and well-done, Serena finds her mind wandering during it. She wonders why the gods have gone silent after the Calamities when their followers needed them the most. No matter how much she prays, her charm won’t fill with the power of moonlight.
Out of all the gods, only Cravallus responded to her in the past. Serena spent her childhood keeping to the shadows, relying on her own magic and instincts heightened by the moon. She didn’t have much to offer besides her own blood and wildflowers when they were in season. Yet, the goddess of secrets still shielded her and helped her prove herself.
Because of this, Serena dislikes the Temple of Eurimas’ snobbery and blunt attempts at conversion. When she went to the temple to learn how to read as a kid, they refused to teach more than the basics if she didn’t recite prayers to Eurimas. Unfortunately, only the Temple of Eurimas offered lessons to non-followers, so she gave up after learning simple sentences.
Cravallus has never demanded sacrifice or riches in worship of her. It feels insulting to sing praises of Eurimas while her sister’s shrines are kept small to prevent the ‘swarming of scum’. That’s why the idea that Fesper Bleck was a cleric of Cravallus surprises her. She hasn’t met anyone outside of the slums who will willingly admit they worship the moon goddess. It’s like intentionally branding yourself.
Bleck’s necklace looks legitimate, fancier than her own charm. Her friends commissioned a jeweller to make hers from tin, and Serena likes shining it daily. She imagines that Bleck must have treasured his necklace as well, so she assumes he must have lost it in battle.
The sound of clapping brings her back into focus. All the deities stand on the stage and bow to the audience. Down to only one layer, the actress for Aris wears only a simple, white robe, showing the god’s loss of power as the cost of creation. It’s tragic and heartwarming to see the deity give up themself for everything to exist. Waving to their fans, all the actors leave the stage.
Elle grins and glances at Serena. “That was great! I loved all the dances.”
The rift-diver’s smile lights up her whole face, and it takes half of a moment longer for Serena to respond. “Yeah, they did a great job as usual. The Temple of Eurimas is famous for these types of performances.”
Before Elle can follow-up, a group of people walks onto the stage to the crowd’s confusion. Seeing the Temple’s high priestess Biront, the audience quiets as people sit back down in their seats. Beside Biront, an unfamiliar man and woman regard the stands with close-lipped smiles. They’re dressed fashionably but not extravagantly, wearing modernised versions of an Oppnoven suit and dress. Behind the trio, there are several guards with unknown faces which catches Serena’s interest.
High Priestess Biront begins with a calm, professional voice. “Thank you all for attending tonight’s performance. Our actors and actresses displayed true talent and hardwork again tonight, and I am certain that they will give an equally beautiful during the festival three days from now. We hope that you will all come to support them.” She bows to the audience, pure white robes rippling with the action.
Around Serena, a light applause breaks out in the crowd, but many people remain still. She sees Elle start to clap, but the rift-diver slowly stops as the two notice a lot of frowning faces. People are staring at the two strangers beside Biront, waiting for their next moves.
Biront continues, “With the six-month anniversary of the Calamities approaching, the Temple of Eurimas wishes to forge strong bonds of friendship in the face of tragedy. For this reason, I have invited the leaders of Danglawan City to share this stage with me today.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Serena tenses but doesn’t reach for her knives. If she makes a threatening move, the crowd’s mood might go downhill fast, and she wants to avoid danger here. Beside her, Elle uncrosses her legs, likely preparing for a quick escape. They’re in the back stands, so it’ll be relatively easy for them to run.
The woman steps forward. Each movement causes her navy blue skirts to flutter, revealing smooth, toned legs. Despite knowing her ruthlessness, Serena can’t ignore her beauty. Her high cheekbones and sharp jaw likely cause heads to turn in the streets. Decorated by delicate, metallic flowers, a gold hairpin holds up her long, black hair. “Warm greetings to everyone. I am Sal Seraquinn, and I am honoured to be in Vinayre today with my colleague.”
Although her voice sounds gentle, Serena can’t relax. She specifically avoided heading to Danglawan City because of the coup. While she’s no stranger to death, it’s hard to not feel suspicious of these two.
Clearing his throat, the man joins Seraquinn in surveying the crowd. His round glasses make his face look soft. “Yes, I was quite pleased to be invited as well. My name is Irum Plux, and we head the parties guiding Danglawan City at the moment. While we understand there are rumours about us, we humbly ask you to hold your reservations without hostility. We come on peaceful terms.” He smiles. It looks warm and friendly like he has run into an old friend. The audience doesn’t return his smile.
Seraquinn doesn’t waver. “It has been almost six months since the Calamities, and both of our cities have become well-acquainted with loss. We wish to offer condolences but also hope.”
Plux nods. “Danglawan. Vinayre. Basinoon Harbour. Our cities have collaborated with one another through tragedies and triumphs. By uniting our strengths, we have become more than mere survivors of the apocalypse. We have become navigators of a new age. Thus, we as the heads of Danglawan City wish to extend our hands and form more than a simple working relationship with you all.”
He outstretches his arms as if welcoming them all. “The Calamities have given us an opportunity to break past the strict traditions bogging down society. How many people here were born into poverty and had no possibility of saving money? How many people here were stuck in their castes and not allowed to pursue their dreams? How many people here have thought that their government was corrupt or useless? We now have a clean slate --- an opportunity for us to change everything. Now, we can finally build a society that is free from rules which only served the elite.”
Seraquinn doesn’t do any grand gestures, hands remaining clasped behind her back. Serena thinks it’s supposed to make her seem down-to-earth and open, but it doesn’t reduce her slightly threatening aura. “We have come to Vinayre with an offer. Let us work together to create a government which serves everyone as a single nation. If this sounds interesting to any of you, we invite you to come visit the Temple of Eurimas on the day of the festival. High Priestess Biront has graciously allowed us to host a panel to discuss our ideas with the public.”
For a moment, the crowd stays silent. Then someone spits on the ground. “Or what? You’ll invade us?” The audience starts muttering. Several others voice their disagreement when Seraquinn and Plux try to continue speaking.
Elle whispers into her ear. “Were there any rumours about this? Making a whole new country is a big thing, especially since people seem to dislike them here.”
Serena shakes her head. “No, nobody said anything. I don’t think even the city council knows or at the very least, they only recently found out.” She hates the idea of Danglawan’s strict control extending over here and naturally wants to oppose it. If Vinayre’s city council goes along with this, she doesn’t know where she’ll go, but she refuses to stay here.
Someone screams, “Get the fuck out of here!” Seeing the crowd’s increasing fury, Seraquinn and Plux’s guards move to protect the Danglawan leaders, raising their shields and weapons. The drawing of their spears drives the tension to a boiling point.
“Let’s remain calm!” A dark-skinned man with braided hair appears on the stage, flanked by guards. Wearing a dress shirt and slacks, Vinayre’s mayor Caexil Innohyre looks perfectly calm after his teleportation. “There is no need to escalate the situation.” Once the audience quiets down, he turns to the Danglawan leaders. “Hello, Seraquinn and Plux. I was expecting to see you both at the city hall.”
A slow, satisfied smile creeps over Seraquinn’s face, and she curtsies slightly. “Mr. Innohyre, it is a pleasure to see you. We wanted to greet our friends at the Temple of Eurimas first. Our apologies for the delay. We were quite excited to see the grand performance put on today.”
Plux does a small bow. “Yes, the actors put on such a splendid show. We are honoured by High Priestess Biront’s invitation. Now that we have offered our remarks, shall we now head towards city hall? We didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” Perhaps it’s just Serena’s imagination, but he doesn’t sound all that sincere.
Mayor Innohyre studies them for a moment before giving a polite smile. “Of course, the council has been anticipating this hearing. We should start our discussions soon.” Before they leave, he turns to address the crowd. “Vinayre’s city council has always worked to represent the people’s concerns. If you have any comments, please deposit them in the suggestions box or send letters to council members. We will address them at the next council meeting. Please enjoy the rest of your night, and we hope to see you at the festival.” With a final wave, everyone exits the stage.
Elle turns to Serena with wide eyes. “...So that was a thing that just happened. Uh, does this matter for us?”
Serena adjusts her cloak, slowly letting herself relax. “We should talk with Tiami. The two from Danglawan will be looking for weaknesses, and the Hunter’s Guild is a sitting duck right now.”
***
Thermal takes a deep breath before pushing open the doors to the Arcanist’s guildhall. Lit by electrical lights like most buildings in Vinayre, the interior has the usual Oppnoven architectural flair, displaying a fusion of tradition and modernisation. It’s filled with mages poring over scrolls and books in every available seat. He keeps his footsteps light, trying to not disturb the scholars.
He arrives at the receptionist’s desk and asks for an appointment with Guildmaster Ryne. Unsurprisingly, the guildmaster is busy with other meetings at the moment, but he might have time later in the evening. Thermal suspects Guildmaster Ryne is at the same meeting as Tiami, so he resigns himself to waiting for hours.
Since he is already at the receptionist’s desk, he requests to see the visitor’s logbook. Even if the guards and Hunter’s Guild has likely investigated this thread, he wants to look into it himself. Thermal goes through the list of missing hunters, not expecting to see much of interest. However, he does find a log about one of the hunters outside of Bleck’s group wanting to sell a wand. Given that Bleck’s group was selling a magical artefact as well, it raises some interesting questions.
Thermal peruses through the guild’s collection of magical texts regarding the third world. While there aren’t many mages from Nessaprine in Vinayre currently, it appears that those who departed due to the Temple’s theft left behind some information on the System’s magic. He is curious about their magic on a superficial level, but he ends up mostly skimming the texts for relevant information. The approaching deadline of Vinayre’s festival has him too stressed to be reading for pleasure.
After almost an hour of research, he finds an interesting passage on protective enchantments. Once a enchanter has reached level eighty, they can create a protective ward which can only be unlocked by a matching key of their creation. The System guarantees only that key can unlock the ward. Thermal pauses to marvel at the power behind that spell. In Arishelm, even the strongest wards have at least a theoretical counter. Perhaps nobody has discovered a counter, but every person from Nessaprine seems to believe that the System’s words govern reality.
The passage claims that the key can be any object which can be enchanted. Thermal narrows his eyes, wondering if there is a deeper reason for selling the staff from Una City. To his knowledge, Una City was a major one in Nessaprine, likely home to many high-level mages. If the staff is a key to a vault, it stands to reason that people are interested in purchasing this particular one.
It is well into the night when Thermal gets invited to the guild master’s office. Stepping through the ornate doorway, he takes in the shelves stacked with scrolls and books, somewhat messy as usual. In the corner, a globe spins slowly in the air, glowing with blue runes. On a quick glance, he thinks that it measures the flow of mana through the region.
Guildmaster Arin Ryne looks up from his stack of paperwork, blue eyes piercing into Thermal. His blond hair looks slightly mussed like he ran his hand through it. A deep, navy blue, his ironed suit appears sharp and professional. He folds his hands on the desk. “Hello, Arrayist Harrovel. My apologies for keeping you waiting.”
“I did not wait long,” Thermal lies. “I presume you wish to get straight to the point?”
“If it pleases you. I assume it has been a long day for both of us.”
He begins, “Sir, I am in charge of a search team for the missing hunters from Vinayre. We discovered that possible thefts from Una City may be related to the case. Do you know anything of staffs or other magical artefacts that can unlock restricted areas in the city?”
Ryne leans back in his chair. “Una City? You are certain of this?”
“With reasonable confidence, yes.”
“Since you are here on Tiami’s behalf, I will share what information I know. However, this should not reach the ears of outsiders.” His stoic expression remains stony.
Thermal dips his head. “Of course, you have my word.”
He nods. “Good. Before the Calamities, there were rumours that the ruling council had been funding weapons research in the depths of Una City. Supposedly, they were ordering rare, expensive materials to enhance magical machinery. If something needed to be kept locked tight, I would imagine it’d be this research. It concerns me to hear that people may have gotten access to it.”
Thermal stiffens, mind racing at the implications. This mission suddenly escalated beyond mere trespassing and theft. “I am even more concerned that people are possibly disappearing after reaching this research facility if this is indeed their intended destination. We can only hope there are still intact defences which are causing this. Is the location of this facility known to the council?”
Ryne shakes his head, rising from his seat. “We have only heard rumours from relatively credible sources about this research’s supposed existence. I cannot imagine the arguments that would ensue if the council discovered it.”
The arrayist grimaces, knowing the current shadow of Danglawan hanging over everyone’s minds. “It is a little disquieting to hear about this possible facility hidden in the ruins. Moving onto a slightly different topic, do you think the Temple of Eurimas is involved with the disappearances?”
Narrowing his eyes, the guildmaster glares at a spot away from Thermal. “While I do not think they are actively killing off those hunters, I would not put it past them to be funding illicit searches in the ruins. High Priestess Biront has always been obsessed with collecting power and artefacts. Considering the Temple’s sudden friendship with the leaders of Danglawan City, I am increasingly worried about their presence here.”
All the hairs on Thermal’s neck rise. “Then we must find a breakthrough for this case soon.”