Dryfort seemed to crumble under the heavy amounts of snow falling everyday, offering a beautiful scenery to any painter willing to sit through the cold. Men kept training despite the winter weather, using the opportunity to strengthen the weaker soldiers. Forced to practice outside at any time of the day, they did not have the courage to give up as if they did, they would be thrown out of the fort and lose a place to sleep. The ones that did not need such intense exercises stayed in the underground barracks where the sweat and lanterns were the only source of warmth: it seemed the Lord Eóganán could not afford more wood for the troops.

The silence of the emperor alarmed the Lord in fact, pushing him to leave Dryfort and return to his main castle, located further north. His days were spent in his throne room eagerly for a message or any kind of information that could be reported back to him - yet nothing came. When gathering with his war council, Eóganán kept convincing them to stay loyal and have faith. Many feared that the message he had sent back with the mole was too much and would trigger the emperor to strike with a greater force than anticipated.

The lords mainly stayed because of his promise to use the artifact he possessed. One of them even pretended to have seen it, to reassure his fellows that it was indeed real and tangible, momentarily appeasing the small tensions. It was a blatant lie however, having been paid a handsome amount by Eóganán to convince the council of his superiority.

The Lord had taken the artifact in his hands once, but could not hold it long for its surface began burning in his hands. He did not see it though, as the simple sight without protection would blind any living creature. Back when the artifact was first rumored to have been spotted, he sent more than a thousand men to retrieve it. All came back blind and ravaged by madness - he executed them all in fear that they would spread the word. After this incident he sent a few more trusted men, and the ones that had their eyes burned suffered the same fate as the first troop. One of them was his closest friend.

He had no idea how he was going to use it, or when. And if he had to blind his entire army to reach the emperor, he would do so without hesitation. Fearing the worst, Eóganán could not wait any longer. The weeks of silence made him weary, he could not understand why the emperor had not yet marched to him, or sent anything stating his disloyalty to the crown. There were only two possibilities: either the emperor was already making his moves without his knowledge, which could end up being fatal, or something happened in Lolûne. Either way, not having control of the situation plagued him with anxiety, and he was losing sleep more and more.

Raghnall and him had exchanged letters in the passing weeks but not even his younger brother understood what was happening. He had to react now before it was too late. Sitting in his throne room that only had his advisor and a few guards, he stood up with a determined look on his face.

“Urmat. We shall march tomorrow, prepare five thousand men with a cavalry at sunrise,” he clamored with a low voice.

He left swiftly, not expecting an answer. His advisor, who wore a long dark orange robe, nodded in silence and smiled.

—-------

Andrei had not seen Rade in a few weeks. Perplexed, he had asked the generals and head battalions of the Hatchet army but none of them remembered the names of the hundreds of people under their command - his companion seemed to have vanished without a trace. He felt guilty for not having properly apologised after Rade’s outburst, thinking that if he hadn't pushed him this far, maybe he would have stayed.

Another part of him however, felt relieved. Rade did threaten him to not disclose the murder he witnessed by making him an accomplice, and in a way, had no ultimate choice but to follow him. But Andrei knew Rade as a rather intelligent man, and most of all, one that could fight: he on the other hand, could not be bothered to hold a sword for more than ten minutes. He did not especially have a frail body, but he definitely was not fond of weaponry and conflicts. If Andrei could rely that part on someone else, he would have been more than glad. Torn between remorse and relief, Andrei continued to work under Raghnall half of the time.

The young Lord had indeed commanded Andrei to be discharged from army duties for the most part, aside from body training. In the weeks that had followed their conversation, he had been summoned several times to elaborate a strategy regarding the Howling Halls. Having also been granted permission to use Raghnall alchemical tools, he had crafted with great joy some healing elixirs and sleeping concoctions: although he did want to make some poison, Raghnall had forbited it stating that it could raise suspicions on him and his status within the Hatchets.

“Lord Hatchet has been gone for slightly more than a week,” expressed Andrei with his eyes focused on the beaker containing a light green liquid. “We have been waiting for this to occur, why wait any longer?”

Raghnall pushed his wooden wheelchair towards the working station where Andrei was slowly putting purple petals in the beaker, dissolving upon touching the liquid and letting out a small cloud of smoke.

“There were a few things I had to make sure of before we could put the plan into action,” he answered, as he placed a cup of tea on the table. Andrei waved his hand around the beaker, scattering the fumes away. “Part of me is anxious that it is not going to work,” he continued, watching Andrei nodding his head in thanks for the beverage.

After a few sips and a small silence, Raghnall observed his desk with tools dispersed all around, herbs scattered all over. His blue eyes gazed at the great mess, discouraged by the amount of garbage Andrei was letting wander around.

“It will work,” Andrei affirmed while putting down his cup. Raghnall raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Quite spirited, are we? Well, you surely are going to your death, but it doesn't matter to me.”

At this very moment sir Colton bursted into the room with alarmed eyes, making the young men jolt with shock from the sudden noise. The butler held a paper in his hands, waving it around in panic.

“Lord Eóganán has begun marching to Lolûne! He has sent an order to deploy half of the army held at Dryfort to serve as reinforcement,” he blurted out in a breath. Raghnall tilted his wheelchair to face him, his face drained of colors. Colton handed him the message he received, while Andrei stood up to read above his shoulder.

“What a fool…” murmured Raghnall. “If this message arrived just now he would have been gone for two days at the very least.”

“Then he will reach the capital in about a week,” pointed Andrei, straightening up. “This is a great opportunity. We can sneak into the Howling Halls while the army is too busy preparing the soldiers to send.”

Raghnall nodded, and relaxed a little. The move from his brother was comprehensible, although he knew he succumbed to the paranoia of not knowing the state of the capital. Patience was a bet, and he was confused as to why his brother did not send spies to report the state of the emperor…Or maybe he did, but they never came back. Raghnall frowned at the thought. What was the emperor thinking? Why the deafening silence?

“Who has my brother given the charge of the House during his absence?” he said while looking at his butler trying to catch his breath. Colton’s eyes darkened.

“His advisor, Lord Jenkin.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Raghnall spat on the ground at these words. “The incarnation of greed. We are doomed,” he said angrily.

“Why not pass the reins to his wife? They share the same name and status,” asked Andrei, confused. It was not uncommon to leave the responsibilities to one’s spouse after the marriage if an emergency arose, and since Lord Hatchet had no child of his own it looked like the obvious choice to make.

“Because he despises women,” explained Raghnall with anger. “They are nothing to him but an object to breed and satisfy his needs, and believes they have not the capacity to handle more than makeup on their faces and social gatherings. But the man’s infertile, jokes on him. I thank the heavens everyday his brain will never be reproduced.”

“How do you know he is the one unable to impregnate?”

Raghnall turned to Andrei with a vengeful smirk on his face, eyes lit up with satisfaction.

“Because I made sure he drank a tea every night that would empty his balls.”

—--

Rain started pouring soon after. Now that the news of Eóganán gathering troops had arrived at Dryfort, soldiers ran across the barracks gathering their uniform and items, generals and battalion commanders barked orders all around, sending the barracks into turmoil. Andrei observed the mates he shared the room with glancing around with anxious looks, fear, apprehension flooding their body as they moved frantically. They left without a word or a glance and Andrei was soon alone in the tiny room.

Perched on his bunked bed he slightly bent over to look where Rade slept before he vanished. His heart clenched at the sight of the empty bed, his belongings nowhere to be seen. Maybe he really did leave, escaping one night without telling anyone of his whereabouts. Andrei sighed before tilting back and laying down on his thin wooden plank: he could not afford to feel distracted right now, for tonight was the moment he would start his descent into the depths of the Howling Halls.

Raghnall had explained how the faster he would get down, the faster he had chances of walking back up. Now that Dryfort was busy gathering the best men they had trained, no one would pay attention nor care who would enter the prison. The Howling Halls expanded kilometers underground, a large cylinder-like structure plunging deep within the earth with a single spiral staircase as the only way of descending.

Many important, violent murderers had been placed down in these cells, the worst of humankind being thrown into the deepest parts of the Halls to make sure they never saw the light of day again. Raghnall had repeated security measures to Andrei more times than he wished he had, although what he really focused on was how he was planning to proceed. Andrei had learned that an old elevator could be found at the very bottom of the prison but was out of service: the rope used to lift it up had been ravaged by termites, and the war approaching meant more to Lord Hatchet than replacing a part of a prison that he barely stepped foot in. Meaning that his only way out was going to climb all the stairs back up. Will he even have the energy to do so after reaching the depths?

Andrei closed his eyes. Far away he could hear horses trotting, chariots moving, men yelling - it seemed that they were about to leave anytime soon. He had a few hours before him to rest while he still could, for Colton would come and get him when the moment was right. Andrei was nervous, and suddenly the prospect of dying loomed over him more than ever before. The memory of Lina’s remains splurging around him made him shiver, but the pursuit of knowledge and truth overtook the traumatic thought rapidly. If the cleansing of the downcity of Lolûne he had witnessed was necessary for him to arrive here, then he was glad.

Thinking about it, he probably would not change a single thing if that meant he could hold an artifact in his hands.

—-----------------

“Now, now!"

A rapid, frantic shake from Colton woke Andrei suddenly. The butler’s face was hidden under a large cape, covering the entirety of his body.

“Now is the time young lad. My master is waiting,” he whispered.

Andrei jumped down the bunk bed as Colton handed him a piece of brown cloth, resembling what he wore. “Hide your face,” he ordered, “We have no time to waste. Follow me.”

The butler swiftly turned his steps to the door, not waiting for Andrei who flung the cape around his shoulder while walking behind him, putting the large cape over his head. Only their steps resonated around the stone barracks, for the most part emptied. The place which was once filled with chattering noises and wooden cups clinking had evaporated in an afternoon, and Andrei suddenly felt extremely lonely.

Colton grabbed a torch on his way out, his steps taking longer strides as if to get out of this place as fast as possible. After a few corridors and small stairs they exited the underground barracks and Andrei followed the man walking through the main door of the castle, where he entered for the first time. The two traversed the grand courtyard completely devoid of life and materials, almost as if the fort had been ransacked a few hours prior. Arriving at the great door Colton opened it before him, and Andrei noticed how the butler had a thin but long scar across his right hand. He did not notice it before, not really paying attention to the man who looked more innocent than he really was.

Andrei shook his head. He had to focus on what he was about to go through. The pair walked through hallways and rooms in complete silence, as tension grew the more they made their way through Dryfort’s castle. Arriving in the great hall, Andrei gazed upwards to admire the beautiful draconic painting once more. A small smile curved his lips at its sight. If he died tonight, it shall be in search of the truth.

The butler took him down some small passages, slowly becoming less and less decorated. It seemed that they were going at the very far back of the castle, seeing the stones being placed roughly and the pavement getting much more uneven as they walked. Sir Colton stopped at the end of a narrow corridor, where he faced a slim metallic door with the family crest carved on it: two salient hounds intertwined with vines and brambles.

Sir Colton swiftly opened the door, revealing a very large room with a great hole at its center. Andrei walked in first, taking in the vast area that laid before him. Four basins of fire bathed the place with a bright light, illuminating the entirety of the round chamber. This was a place large enough to hold a tournament or any kind of event that involved a few hundred people at the very least. Andrei observed his surroundings, noticing very slim windows perched high up, giving very little natural light to the place even during day time.

“Here you are,” a familiar voice arose. Andrei’s eyes met with Raghnall in his wooden wheelchair placed near the great hole in the ground, covered by thin layers of metallic bars. “Come over here.”

Sir Colton closed the door behind him while Andrei walked up to the crippled man, who was dressed warmly. His long ginger hair arboured thin braids that got tucked in his fluffy, large coat. Once he stood before him, Raghnall gave him a little leather bag. Andrei hesitated slightly, looking at him in confusion.

“A little something. Look inside,” he insisted.

Andrei opened it carefully, and peaked in its interior. He discerned dried food, a small gourd of water, two long thick cloth and light daggers. His eyes caught something unusual, and he reached it with his hand to pull it out.

“That’s…” he started in shock. Raghnall nodded. In his hand was a small flask containing blood, enough to be splashed in the face with. Andrei looked at the crippled man, appalled, who suddenly appeared to him as extremely pale.

“Listen to me Andrei. The artifact is being protected by two guardians that have been in my family for generations. They are alchemically produced and only respond to the blood of my lineage. Use it when you reach the depth, and please. Please, never turn your back once you face them.”

Andrei was at a loss for words. He lowered his gaze to the little flask one again before putting it back in the bag and placing it on his shoulder. Of course he knew what it implied and he truly respected Raghnall for sacrificing a bit of himself in the process. As much as the crippled man claimed to not care about his fate, he ultimately went lengths to make him succeed. Andrei chuckled at the thought.

“I am very grateful, thank you.”

“No need,” mumbled Raghnall. “Now go.”

He signed his butler to open the trap. Sir Colton walked near the wall and stopped before removing a few blocks of stones, giving away a lever. Grabbing the handle he pulled it with a great force, and a loud creaking noise resonated all around them. Andrei observed in amazement as each metallic bar was slowly retracting one by one, until nothing but an ominous abyss greeted him. He could see how hundreds of torches spiraled down, getting smaller the farther he looked. Andrei looked at Raghnall once more, his blue eyes looking back in encouragement.

Gazing to the entrance once more and the large stairs greeting him, Andrei took a deep breath before taking his first step down the Howling Halls. He descended slowly, watching where he laid his foot in fear of slipping out. After walking for a few meters a loud metallic noise resonated around him and he lifted his head up, watching the metallic bars closing the entrance. He saw Raghnall looking down at him with worry before he cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Stop at the cell six thousand and twenty three!”