Novels2Search

20  –  Surface Tensions

Chapter 20 – Surface Tensions

The remnants of the Big Mix were still echoing through the passages of Rootshadow when Menna found herself on the familiar, rocky ledge that framed one of the Middleshy settlement’s main gateways. In contrast, a somber, urgent atmosphere blanketed the local Sunshy outpost nearby. Below her, Sunshy rangers moved with determined haste, assembling packs and preparing mounts for the search parties. Torran, Saera, and Sennith were huddled over a map, their faces etched with worry.

Menna hesitated, her heart heavy with a mixture of guilt and apprehension. Her stomach twisted as she listened to them. She should already have been there earlier, offering her support and helping to plan the search for Sylven. But the weight of her impending departure for the Deepcity of Obsidara to join Master Lethar’s team, a journey that promised to be both daunting and life-changing, had consumed most of her time and attention.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the group, forcing a calm she didn't feel. "So, what's the plan? What do we know?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

Saera straightened but didn’t take her eyes of the map. "We’re certain Sylven reached the Cradle Caverns," she said, pointing to the location. "Whisker's tracks were with his for most of the way, but the trail gets messy before they even reach the entrance. It's unclear what happened after that. The rains really muddied things up. Several kobold trails also intersect theirs. It’s almost like one of the kobolds… walked along with them. But…” she shook her head, turning towards Sennith. “That would be crazy!"

"Well, Kobold activity in the area has been unusual, to say the least," Sennith added, his brow furrowed. "They seem really riled up. They're scouting further afield and more often. It's almost as if they're searching for something..." He looked back at Saera. "Or someone."

Menna's stomach dropped. "What if it's Sylven? Could he have really pissed them off? Taken something they want back, not just an egg?" The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She knew Sylven, driven by his competitive spirit and eagerness to prove himself, might have provoked the kobolds badly enough to make them hunt him down. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more chilling than the last.

"Possibly," Torran nodded grimly. "Whatever the case, we're sending search parties. He may be a huge pest, but he’s also tough and resourceful. He’ll be fine. We'll find him. But we have to move fast."

Menna's fingers gripped the edge of the table. "I… I should come with you to help," she said, the words catching in her throat. But even as she spoke, she knew she couldn’t follow through. Her new obligations to the Deepshy loomed large. She couldn't abandon her commitment, no matter how much she wanted to help find Sylven.

Torran's intense gaze seemed to read her thoughts. "You've got other responsibilities, Menna," he said, his tone sympathetic. "We know that. And you’re no Sunbrave. But you can still help us form here or elsewhere."

"I have contacts in the caravans," she offered quickly, eager to contribute in any way she could. "Some rare herb gatherers have mentioned seeing unusual kobold movements near the caldera's edge. And there was a relic hunter who says he stepped in some pika poo up in the jungles—it could've been Whisker's."

Saera laid a hand on her shoulder. "That's helpful, Menna. Thank you." The group nodded, their expressions softening slightly.

Torran started rolling up the map. “That clinches it. We’ve received similar reports from our advance scouts. Pikas would never go into the jungles along the caldera’s edge unless mounted. And Sylven was the only Sunshy on a pika mount whose trail came anywhere close to that area right before the Big Mix.”

Sennith grunted his agreement. “We’ll start focusing our searches up towards the ridge. If he left any signs, we’ll find them.”

But even as they expressed their gratitude, Menna couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness. She watched as they divided into search parties, their faces grim but determined, and felt a pang of remorse. She was leaving them at the very moment they needed her.

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Kaeloris was waiting for her, standing stiffly beneath the archways at the entrance to the Concord Pavilion. Beside him was a figure Menna had never seen before. The stranger towered over Kaeloris, his pale, almost luminescent skin unmistakably marking him as Deepborn. But unlike the scholars or craftsmen Menna usually dealt with, his broad shoulders and battle-worn stance spoke of hard-earned strength.

“This is Commander Vazko of the Deepguard,” Kaeloris said as Menna approached. “He will be escorting us to Obsidara.”

Menna blinked, trying not to stare, her breath catching slightly. She’d only read about the Deepguard in passing—elite warriors trained in magical combat and defense, often tasked with protecting key figures in the Deep. Seeing one in person was an entirely different matter. Vazko was striking—his silver-gray hair shimmered faintly under the pavilion’s lamplight, and the rune-etched moleskin armor he wore showed numerous scratches and patched tears evoking past battles. Yet it was his eyes that held her attention: both piercing and pensive, as though they were searching for something far beyond her ken.

“Menna,” Kaeloris prompted impatiently.

She snapped out of it and recovered. “It’s… an honor to meet you, Commander,” she said, her voice faltering slightly.

Vazko inclined his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Likewise.”

Kaeloris waved a hand dismissively. “Now that introductions are complete, we should decide on our route. The Deepways are the most logical choice. Faster, safer—”

Menna's mind was still reeling from the events of the day, but she snapped to attention and squared her shoulders. "I'd prefer traveling via the Shyways," she declared firmly.

Kaeloris blinked, clearly thrown off by the interruption. “The Shyways? Why? They’re slower, more exposed—”

"They're slower, yes. But we're in no major rush I believe. We’ll pass through several Sunshy outposts. I could gather more information… I mean, artifacts. For our work with Master Lethar…” Menna scrambled for an acceptable reason.

Kaeloris opened his mouth to argue, but Vazko surprised them both by speaking up. “The Shyways are acceptable.” His tone was measured, but there was something that suggested genuine interest.

Both Menna and Kaeloris turned to Vazko, surprised. Menna looked up at the commander, and for a moment, their eyes met. There was a flicker of understanding there, an unspoken recognition of shared purpose. He raised an eyebrow and betrayed a faint grin. Menna began to feel slightly less troubled by the impending journey.

Vazko quickly regressed to his default inscrutable countenance. "I agree that traveling the surface may provide further insights," he said simply. "I see no harm in her proposal. You shall both be under my protection so there is no reason to fear any dangers that the Shyways may pose."

Menna suppressed a gasp of surprise. Though Vazko's words were practical, she sensed a hidden depth in them, an unspoken understanding that went beyond mere diplomacy. Was there something up here on the surface that intrigued him, that drew him in despite his Deepborn nature? This escort mission felt out of place for someone of his rank. Why would a seasoned Deepguard be assigned to such a relatively mundane task? If there was more to his presence, he was keeping it buried as deeply as their cities.

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Kaeloris pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that conveyed his reluctance. "Fine," he said with a sigh. "The Shyways, then. But I'll remind you, Menna, this is a courtesy. We cannot afford delays."

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The journey began the next dawn, with a trip to the Sunshy stables where, for their mounts, the Kaeloris rented tiger salamanders, muscular creatures with smooth, striped scales. Their strong legs and claws were perfect for digging underground, thus the Deepshy’s preference for them in their tunnels.

Vazko’s familiarity with the creatures was immediately apparent as he confidently straddled his salamander in one quick, easy movement.

“Looks like you’ve ridden these before,” Menna observed as she struggled with the unfamiliar mount. It was also her first time to ride a creature that wasn’t furred, and she was finding it tricky to keep stable on the salamander’s more slippery back. Her mount began fidgeting the longer she took to settle on its saddle.

Before Menna could fully realize what was happening, Vazko had dismounted and approached her salamander. She watched as the commander stroked the salamander’s neck, murmuring something inaudible. The creature stilled instantly, its restless claws pausing against the rocky ground. She bit back a small smile. “Well, I’m glad someone here knows what they’re doing.”

“The Deepguard often use tiger salamanders for our underground operations. They’re ideal for both their speed and tunneling skills,” he replied matter-of-factly while returning to his mount. Before he urged his salamander onward through the trail, he turned back to look at Menna. “It also helps when they like you."

Having traveled this route countless more times compared to her companions, Menna led the way, while still getting the hang of controlling her ride. Vazko lingered by her side, his presence both reassuring and intimidating. He moved with a quiet grace, his senses alert to the subtle shifts in their surroundings. His tiger salamander slithered forward with fluid ease, clearly comfortable with his touch and commands. Kaeloris brought up the rear, keeping a steady pace even while lounging in his saddle and continuing to read from several books he had packed for the journey.

As the first rays of sunlight peeked above the caldera’s ridge, they had already set a good pace riding along the Shyways. Menna’s Deepshy companions couldn’t help but comment on how the network of protected, camouflaged trails that connected the different Middleshy settlements and Sunshy campsites were a stark contrast to their Deepways. Instead of the smooth, straight rock-carved tunnels of the Deep, they led through a series of meandering hedgerows and arbors, and the occasional dirt burrows. Their purpose was more to blend in, providing safety and shelter, than expediting a speedy journey.

Menna noticed Vazko subtly adjusting his hood to shield his face from the fingers of light piercing through the vegetation. She almost smiled at the gesture—a reminder of the Deepshy’s weakness despite their stance of superiority.

“You’re doing pretty well in all this sunlight,” Menna remarked, breaking the companionable silence.

Vazko responded without turning his head. “I’ve trained for it. Though I can’t say I enjoy it.”

“Then why did you agree to traveling through the Shyways?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the slices of sky peeking between the leaf cover. “I believe that one should always embrace opportunities to challenge oneself. This is my first extended mission above the Deep. I hope to learn more about the world and absorb useful skills and knowledge that would help me better serve in the guard.”

“But you would still prefer living your entire life underground?” Menna pressed the commander.

“I believe I do,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m blind to what the surface offers.”

By midday, the trio reached a small Sunshy trading outpost, bustling with traders and rangers exchanging goods and news. Menna dismounted awkwardly, patting her salamander’s scaled neck before seeking out a caravan leader she recognized, hoping for any scrap of news about Sylven. After a brief exchange that dealt her a mix of hope and frustration, she returned to the Deepshy, She found Vazko standing by the salamanders, his hand resting lightly on the neck of his mount as it stretched lazily in the shade. Kaeloris, still mounted, was inspecting a map with growing impatience.

The Deepguard gestured for her to come speak with him off to the side, beyond the earshot of Kaeloris.

“Any news about your Sunshy friend?” Vazko asked, his face betraying nothing while Menna looked back at him goggle-eyed with surprise.

“How did… you know about Sylven!?” Menna stammered.

“Nothing significant gets past the Deepguard, even things that happen on the surface, or beyond,” he replied carefully.

"They've seen increased kobold patrols near the ridge leading from the rear of the kobold hive," she reported. "And one of the scouts noticed signs that someone had been gathering firemoss in a line going in that direction. But the rain made it impossible to say for sure if it was a Shy or a kobold..."

“Sounds promising. The Sunshy scouts seem to know what they’re doing,” Vazko suddenly cut Menna off and started getting back on his mount. “Now, let’s not keep the leader of our little expedition waiting any longer,” he looked straight at Menna and winked.

Noticing that Vazko was ready to continue the journey, Kaeloris glanced up from his book, his mind already on other matters. "Good, I expect that to be the last of our impromptu disruptions," he said briskly. "Now, we should proceed to Mossgrove. I have business at Bowerbird Avenue. Since we’re taking this route anyway, I might as well go along with Master Lethar’s suggestion that I investigate certain… purveyors of interest."

Menna raised an eyebrow. "He suggested that?"

"Your slide rule came from Bowerbird, didn't it?" Kaeloris asked pointedly. "Lethar was intrigued by its precision and traces of arcane energy. He suspects that the birds, in their lust-fueled wanderings, might have stumbled upon other similar items that would be better put to use at Umbryss academy."

Menna adjusted the tool at her belt, suddenly self-conscious. "It's just a fancy slide rule," she said, trying to downplay its significance.

"To you. Which is why a more trained eye is required to scrutinize these relics from the age when arcane knowledge was at its height, at least among the Deepshy." Kaeloris haughtily replied, dismissing Menna with a sniff as he urged his salamander to the front of the party.

Vazko closely followed the other Deepshy mount’s tail, looking back at Menna to shrug apologetically. Menna couldn't read his expression, but his acting all clueless made her suspect that he was privy to this unexpected detour somehow.

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That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Shyways, Menna found herself walking alongside Vazko. The quiet between them was not unpleasant, but it carried an undercurrent of tension, a sense of unspoken questions and hidden depths.

"You seem preoccupied," Vazko remarked.

Menna glanced at him, surprised by his perceptiveness. "I have a lot on my mind," she admitted, her eyes drawn to the swirling patterns of light and shadow on the path ahead.

"Your Sunshy friend?" He asked.

"And moving to Obsidara," she nodded. "Leaving everything I know behind… it's daunting." She was surprised by her own candor, but there was something about Vazko's stoicism that made her feel she could confide in him without judgment.

"Change often is," he sighed.

She studied him with renewed curiosity. "You speak as if you've experienced it," she said, inviting him to share more.

“I have," he replied curtly. Before she could press further, he added, "But now I realize that the surface leaves its mark on those who venture onto it, even if they don't realize it at first. Like sunlight on skin—it changes you."

And with that cryptic remark he urged his salamander to slither forward at full speed. Menna momentarily pushed her worries aside, replaced by a growing fascination with the enigmatic Deepguard.

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By the time they reached the outskirts of Mossgrove, night had fallen, cloaking the dell in a velvety darkness. Bowerbird Avenue, however, was still ablaze with glow lights and warming embers, the air buzzing with the chatter of collectors, tinkerers and traders.

Kaeloris, ever impatient, led the way, scanning the bustling street as he pushed past the others browsing the bowers. "Point me to the most promising bower, the one with the most intriguing relics," he demanded of Menna.

"There’s no such one,” Menna explained. “It’s completely random, the birds just collect whatever catches their eye that’s shiny, colorful, and sometimes, magical. It all ends up here."

With that, Kaeloris rolled his eyes, and then his sleeves for good measure, and plunged into the jumble, seemingly forgetting all about how dangerous it could be for a Deepshy out on the surface unescorted.

This left Menna and Vazko standing together at the threshold of a particularly gaudy structure originally built as part of a complex set of avian mating rituals.

As they watched Kaeloris bower-dive, Menna turned to Vazko, her curiosity piqued. "Would you have any idea what he's looking for?" she asked, her eyes sweeping over the messy piles of junk and trinkets.

Vazko's gaze lingered on the row of glittering bowers. "Something that he can’t properly identify…" he surmised. “…or fully understand.”

Menna chuckled. "That's so cryptic, even for you."

"We can’t help burying what we mean to say, we’re Deepshy," Vazko replied, his indigo eyes betraying a twinkle of amusement. “You’ll learn to figure us out better in Obsidara.”