Lukas didn’t even have to announce himself when he arrived at the gates of the royal palace. There was a line of no fewer than a hundred knights on either side of the walkway to the doors, each standing at attention with halberds in hand, silver visors pulled down over their faces. The two that stood on either sides of the door were the only ones to move, pulling the doors open before standing silently on either side, waiting for him to enter.
He straightened his collar, adjusting his shoulders to ensure his cape fell over them just right. Every hair on his head was perfect, his expression carefully guarded, his clothes immaculate. He knew it, yet he couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety at his situation.
This was the royal palace. Not some minor noble’s house, where Lukas could talk down to even the lord of the manor without fear of reprisal… not that he would be so uncouth as to do so in the first place. One wrong move could be catastrophic, leading to tensions between the two most powerful families in perhaps the world.
Even outright war wasn’t an impossible outcome, depending on his actions. No, not just his actions, his very words. The expressions he allowed to cross his face.
He thought of Sarian, and how perfect his control over every emotion he expressed was. How proper his manners, and etiquette. Lukas straightened his posture just a little more, and stepped into the palace.
“Your Grace,” an elderly servant said, already in a deep bow before Lukas had stepped through the door. “On behalf of His Majesty the Emperor, I welcome you to Castle Kasin. Prince Cassius is expecting you. If you would follow me, please.”
“Very well,” Lukas replied. “Take me to see him.”
The servant led him through extravagant hallways, winding deeper and deeper into the palace. Lukas kept a mental map in case he needed to leave without a guide, but it started becoming more and more difficult as the path seemed to continue without end. Just how large was the castle, anyway?
They finally arrived at the base of a massive, hollow tower. Lukas had to tilt his head straight back to see all the way up, the ceiling so far above that you could have fit the average castle’s highest peak before reaching the second floor. The room was barren but for a decorative stone circle in the middle of the floor. Curiously, Lukas couldn’t see any sort of stairs.
“Prince Cassius awaits in the drawing room at the tower’s peak, your Grace,” the servant said, bowing deeply again. He had not made eye contact with Lukas once the entire walk.
“I see,” Lukas said confidently, though inside he was confused. If there were no stairs, how was he to even ascend the tower?
“I shall depart here, as per my Lord’s request. Enjoy your visit, your Grace.”
The elderly servant bowed even deeper, then turned and left the tower. Lukas found himself alone in the centre of the room, an unimpressed look creeping over his face.
“Cassius, you snake,” he whispered. “Why the top of a tower, anyways?”
Lukas scanned the room, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he again saw nothing. There was just the circle in the middle of the room.
He walked over to it, bending over to examine it more closely. It was a single stone inlaid into the ground, a perfect circle some twenty feet in diameter. Carved into the surface was a large, clearly arcane rune composed of interlocking circles of all different designs.
Thinking nothing of it, Lukas stepped onto the circle, intent on examining the engravings closer to the centre. The moment he did, the lines under his feet lit up with a deep, amethyst light, and Lukas had about a quarter of a second of surprise before he nearly screamed.
In an instant, gravity reversed. Lukas began falling straight up, careening through the air as the impossibly high ceiling suddenly seemed much closer than before.
He clenched his jaw and fists, stopped his flailing, and accepted his fate. Whatever it may be.
The ceiling had a hole in the middle, directly over the top of the circle. Lukas felt himself begin to slow as he rapidly approached, until eventually he was moving at barely a walking pace, the magical force gently moving him sideways once he was through the hole in the ceiling - now floor - until his feet touched the ground.
“Well, that was boring. Normally people scream for the first time.”
“Pleased to see you again too, Cassius,” Lukas replied as calmly as he could manage. He was proud of himself, in spite of what had happened, there wasn’t so much as a quiver in his voice. “I see my first impressions of your eccentricity were an understatement.”
Prince Cassius looked up from the book he was reading. The young prince was seated in an ornate hardwood chair on the far side of a matching desk that was large enough to seat a family of ten. His black eyes were blank, a look of mild disappointment on his face.
“Once again, you could at least act surprised. This magic is exceedingly rare, you won’t find such a thing outside of the royal palace.”
“My apologies for the disappointment,” Lukas said, looking around the room. It was easily the most extravagant study Lukas had ever seen, he had to begrudgingly admit. Even his father’s study in Selerica paled in comparison.
The ceiling was no less than sixty feet in the air, rising to a sharp point at the peak of the tower. Windows lined much of the roof, letting the afternoon light stream in and keeping the tower bright inside without any need for lamp or torch. Bookshelves lined the walls nearly to the peak, so tall that there was scaffolding and near countless ladders and staircases to access it all. Everything was made of the same rich mahogany, with trim in golds and brass, including a central, brass chandelier that was likely worth more than the average castle.
“Apology accepted,” Cassius replied. “Care to take a seat?”
Lukas took the offered chair, sitting down across the desk from Cassius. Lukas kept his attention on the room though, trying not to look impressed by the room.
“Is this the castle library or a study?”
“My personal study. The library is underground, and could fit this room a dozen times over, probably more.”
Lukas nodded as if that were perfectly reasonable. As if the prince hadn’t just confessed to having a personal study with more internal space than the average keep.
“While under normal circumstances I would never shy away from showing off,” Cassius said, bringing Lukas’ attention back to him. “For once, I did not bring someone here to display my family’s wealth. Would you care to start, then?”
“Start?” Lukas asked, feigning ignorance. “And here I thought I’d been invited for the pleasure of my company.”
“While you’re certainly more interesting than most guests I’m forced to entertain,” Cassius responded as he leaned back casually. “I did wish to discuss more sensitive matters today.”
“And I’m to speak on those sensitive matters before you end the spell you’ve been holding since before I arrived?”
Cassius stared at him blankly, before slowly a smirk grew on his face.
“Lucky guess, Lukas.”
Two arcane circles appeared in the air behind Cassius’ head, then instantly fizzled out with a soft hiss.
“It was not a difficult guess to make.”
“My, my. I’ll have to up my game.”
“Are you not going to offer refreshments?” Lukas asked, casually glancing around the room.
“I have potions of unknown effects. Care to take a gamble?”
“Unknown to you, or just to me?”
“That’s part of the fun.”
“I’ll abstain.”
Cassius sighed, crossing his arms as he shook his head.
“And here I thought you were fun.”
“Apparently you also thought I was a fool, so you’re mistaken twice over.”
Cassius grabbed a small, metal quill from the table, and began flipping it around his fingers deftly. It was a rather distracting display, Lukas thought, which was likely the point.
“I suppose I did invite you under the premise of sharing what I had learned. It would only be proper for me to go first then, wouldn’t it?”
“If you knew that from the start, then lead with that.”
Cassius paused, even the quill in his hand going still, as he stared at Lukas intently. Lukas kept his composure perfectly, even managing to look politely bored to express his dissatisfaction.
“You aren’t afraid of me at all, are you?” Cassius asked.
“I’m aware of how dangerous my situation could become under the wrong circumstances.”
“Yes, but you’re not afraid of me,” Cassius said, leaning forwards in his chair.
“Is that your way of telling me I should be?”
“...No. No it is not.”
Cassius seemed to relax, breaking his intense staring before starting to talk again.
“Are you willing to put some trust in me, Lukas?”
“To the prince who uses spells, potions and the threat of torture in casual conversation? Not likely,” Lukas responded.
“That was one time. When are you going to let that little thing go?”
“Twice, actually.”
Cassius shifted in his chair, huffing indignantly.
“The captain of the royal guard had a chat with your eldest brother that night.”
Lukas drummed his fingers against the table subconsciously. Cassius raised an eyebrow with a smirk.
“That got your attention, didn’t it?”
“Nothing I hadn’t heard already.”
“But that’s about all you know, isn’t it?”
“Are you going to share what you know or not?”
Cassius sighed.
“Fine. The guards used a spell similar to what I used on you, to determine if your brother knew anything of the plot against Alyssia. Luckily for him, he knows nothing, same as you.”
Lukas exhaled quietly in relief.
“Then, your brother was shot at by a crossbow.”
“What?” Lukas sputtered.
“The bolt was blocked by the defensive spells cast over the ballroom, don’t worry. It wasn’t possible for him to be struck in the first place.”
“What do you mean, shot at by a crossbow?”
Cassius crossed his arms, a dark, pensive look pinching his fair features together.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
“It seems this little plot is after more than just my sister, Lukas. The bolt was inspected… it was small, from a mere hand crossbow. Normally it would not even be enough to kill a person, save for a lucky shot. Yet, the head was coated in rukh poison. He would have been dead in seconds from a mere scratch.”
Lukas took a deep breath, noticing only now how his heart rate had picked up.
“Why didn’t he tell me…?”
“Mm, the perks of being the youngest child again, I suppose. Being left out of family business is such a joy, is it not?”
“This bolt, and poison,” Lukas said sharply. “Did they offer any leads on who could be responsible?”
“It would have been nice if we had simply caught the assassin in the act,” Cassius responded. “But with just the bolt and poison to go off… we have only one lead.”
“And what might that be?”
“Rukh poison is one of the most dangerous known to man, but it’s also perhaps the most expensive. It must be harvested from a rukh in the Umbran mesas, then kept in an airtight container at exactly the same temperature as the inside of a rukh’s body. No mean feat, given they’re a greater wyrm.”
“And this pertains to our lead, how?”
“Easy now, Lukas. You look like you’re about to threaten me with torture for once,” Cassius said lightheartedly. “The thing is, there’s only two groups of people in the world with the means and expertise to harvest and distribute this poison throughout Arkasia. The Arcanist’s college being the foremost.”
Lukas ground his teeth, forcing himself to lean back and try to relax.
“Are you implying the college is behind this?”
“No, of course not. Not when the other suspect is so much more likely.”
“Cassius, stop wasting my time. Who is it?”
“Have you heard of a group known as the Undercarries?”
Lukas’ lip twitched.
“The smugglers, yes. Of course.”
“Not just smugglers, though I suppose that’s the only operation of theirs that would be running in Selerica. No, they’re much larger than that. Whorehouses, illicit drug trades, smuggling, thievery… even assassination, from time to time. Anything illegal here on the surface, they trade in the underworld. Including rare and difficult to obtain poisons.”
“Then we have a suspect.”
“Indeed, and a motive to match.”
“Motive?” Lukas asked.
“Mhm,” Cassius responded, leaning back until the front legs of his chair lifted off the ground. He began spinning the quill across his fingers again, staring intently towards the ceiling of the room. “The Undercarries have their main presence here in Kasin, unfortunately. They’re a bit like rats… or more accurately, like cockroaches. Nigh impossible to stamp out, no matter how much the guard tries.”
“I was unaware they were such a problem for you.”
“Well, that would be because your father has done a much better job of keeping them out of your city,” Cassius said with a respectful tone. “Not quite sure how the man does it, and sadly I think my own father is too proud to ask.”
Lukas put together what Cassius was saying.
“You think the Undercarries are worried the marriage of Sarian and Alyssia will harm their business in Kasin.”
“Either through giving Archduke Lichtenwald more influence in Kasin, or through Sarian himself adopting your father’s strategies, yes.”
“But it may not have been them directly, either. They could just as well have sold the poison to anyone… Neither of our families are short on enemies, after all.”
“Yet it’s the only lead we have. Even if it was not the Undercarries loosing the bolt, they almost certainly sold the poison to the assassin.”
“So, I have a very important question to ask you again, Lukas,” Cassius said, whispering conspiratorially.
“And what might that be?”
“See, I’m a bit tired of being left out of family matters. And I suspect you feel the same. Are we not nobles, just the same as our elder siblings?”
Lukas held his tongue, but inside, something jumped at Cassius’ words.
“I say… How about you and I work together on this? We trace down our leads, poke our heads in a few doors they shouldn’t be in, ask a few questions certain people don’t want asked.”
“You realise you’re suggesting we go looking for assassins after our families, yes?”
A smile slowly crept onto Cassius’ face, and for the first time, Lukas wondered if the boy might be truly mad.
“Without either of our family’s permissions, too,” Cassius said quietly.
“Are you mad?” Lukas asked.
“Perhaps.”
“This is insanity,” Lukas muttered, sliding back in his chair. “I can hardly even believe you would suggest such a thing, let alone mean what you’re saying.”
“So are you with me?” Cassius asked, holding a hand out across the table. Lukas eyed it warily, the conflicting feelings in his chest warring against each other.
Cassius noticed his hesitation, and with a devilish smile on his face, struck the killing blow.
“I have no intention of remaining the useless little brother forever, Lukas. And with the chance to prove ourselves before our very eyes… Can you really live with yourself if you just walk away?”
Lukas’ lip curled up in frustration with himself as one of the feelings in his heart won out.
“Don’t make me regret this, Cassius.”
Lukas took his hand and shook, and Cassius’ grin grew ever larger.
----------------------------------------
In the depths of the Kasin undercity, a young girl ran for her very life.
“Stop her! Someone, grab her!” A man yelled from behind, his armour clanking as he ran through the alley.
Though dozens of people dressed in rags lined the alley, not one made a single move to grab her. In fact, it seemed some even ‘stumbled’ into the guard’s way, slowing him.
Kris turned a corner, clutching the coin purse in one hand and desperately holding her hood over her face to prevent it from falling off. She couldn’t let the guard see her face.
The clank of his armour slamming into the wall as he failed to slow in time brought a smile to her face, but it was short lived. He started sprinting again immediately, and she desperately wove through the crowd, looking for anywhere she could lose him.
A narrow stone staircase leading down came into view, and she took for it immediately. Maybe if she could get to the canals at the lowest level of the city…
She pushed past dozens of citizens, listening to the loud cursing and clamouring of the guard slowly getting more distant behind her. It seemed his armour slowed him on the stairs more than she had assumed.
She reached the bottom of the staircase quickly, the damp, rotten smell of the canals reaching her nose as she panted for breath. The stone under her boots was wet and slick after days of rain, and she nearly slipped as she started running again, choosing an alley at random. She ducked around the corner and kept going, hoping that the guard hadn’t seen which alley she went to.
A few minutes of running later, winding down alley after alley, and she came to a back courtyard that ended in a canal. She slid to a stop right at the edge of the ten foot drop into the water below, looking over the edge with wide eyes. The water was slow moving, nearly black even in the early afternoon light, and filled with debris.
She gulped, then turned around slowly, expecting the guard to appear at any moment.
He did not. Instead, the alley she had run through was empty, only old boxes, barrels and trash littering the narrow space. Still panting, she finally dared to believe that she had gotten away, the heavy purse of coins still in her hand.
Of course, nothing was ever that easy, though.
“Well, what have we here?” A wheezing, scratchy voice said. Kris stiffened as the back door to one of the buildings opened, and a one-eyed man stepped out. Though it was only afternoon he held a dark bottle of open booze in one hand, and staggered slightly as he moved to block the only alleyway out of the courtyard.
“Whassa’ lil’ brat like you doin’ here, eh?” The man said with a slur, walking closer as he squinted his remaining eye to see her. “Hm, what’s this then? Lost, little girl?”
Something about the way the man was looking at her sent a shiver down her spine. She stepped backwards, only for her heel to poke off the edge towards the canal.
“Easy now, I ain’t gonna hurt ya…”
“Stay back,” she said, trying to sound threatening. Her voice broke though, revealing it as just a bluff.
The man smiled, only a few dirty yellow teeth still left in his mouth.
Come on, step closer, away from the alley…
She watched the opening to the alley carefully, calculating out how long she would have to run past the man before he could get back to guarding her escape. If worse came to worst she could always dive into the canal, too… though the waters looked as dangerously disease ridden as the man did.
“Weren’t supposed to be a little girl meetin’ me today,'' the man said, his head cocking to the side like a vulture staring at a corpse. “You get sent by someone fer a pickup, then? Mm, good, good… there’s other ways to-”
The man suddenly choked, a strangled gurgling sound escaping his lips as a bolt appeared in his throat. Kris watched in shock as the man dropped the bottle then clutched at his neck, clawing uselessly at the bolt while blood spewed from his neck. He dropped first to one knee, then the other, and finally fell flat on his face, a pool of red quickly building under him.
“Well, I knew he was a waste of space, but my how that man could foul the very air he breathed. Don’t you agree?”
Kris blinked in surprise a few times as a young man stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the courtyard. He spoke in a low, silky purr, and as Kris saw him in the light, the first thought she had was that she’d never seen someone strange in all her life.
He had caramel skin, not as richly coloured as an Umbran’s but too dark to be Arklander or Arkasian. His hair was a golden blonde, yet dark streaks of black ran through it, all the way down the ponytail he wore to about neck-length. He was dressed in clothes that were somehow rich yet plain, clearly of a luxurious quality yet entirely in muted browns, tans and off-whites. He was an exceptionally handsome man, probably in his early twenties, and wore a confident smirk that seemed permanently affixed to his face.
Most shocking of all were his eyes. One a rich, honey-gold, and the other a brilliantly twinkling sapphire blue. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, giving her a playful wink.
“Cat got your tongue, friend? Or am I just that dazzling today?”
“You just killed a man in front of her. I think her reaction is understandable.”
Kris jumped as a new, deeper voice came from the shadows where the first man had appeared from. A second man stepped out into the light, dressed in dark robes that hid most of his form. He wore a black mask in the shape of a crow’s face, a plague doctor mask, Kris recognized. She hadn’t seen one since leaving the Arklands.
“Apologies, young miss. Excuse my partner.”
The man in the black mask grabbed the dead man by the armpits, hefting him up onto his shoulder with ease. Kris backed away as she noticed the masked man’s rather terrifying strength… and the oversized butcher’s cleaver hidden under his cloak.
Without any care or grace, the masked man threw the corpse into the canal, then dusted off his gloved hands.
“Consider yourself lucky we happened to be after the man right when you bumped into him,” the first man said from right behind her. Kris jumped again, spinning around and putting distance between her and the two strangers.
“Don’t come near me.”
The strange looking young man raised both hands up in a surrender, an innocent look on his face. Kris gaped as she noticed the coin purse in his hand… her coin purse.
“Easy now, unlike that bastard, we don’t harm kids at all. Right, Doc?” The man said in a sing-song voice.
“Give that back,” Kris demanded, even as she shied away. There was nothing dangerous about the strange man’s demeanour at all, he truly seemed harmless… except for the hand crossbow that rested at his hip. That, and the body that floated gently downstream.
“Sure,” the stranger replied with a casual shrug. He tossed the purse back over, and Kris caught it, instantly testing the weight to see if anything was missing. She couldn’t feel a difference at all. Without missing a beat, both men turned and started walking away down the alley.
“Probably best not to tell anyone what you saw here today,” the man called, a playful amusement never leaving his voice. “While we won’t hurt you, that doesn’t extend to people outside our little organisation.”
“You’re… letting me go?” Kris asked hesitantly.
The man stopped, then turned around. His multicoloured eyes sparkled in the light.
“I don’t talk about the petty theft, and you don’t talk about the petty murder. How’s that sound for a deal?”
Kris stared at him in bewilderment. The man sighed, resting both hands behind his head as he kicked a stray stone to the side and walked a few steps closer.
“Listen, kid,” he said, voice dropping lower and into a slightly more serious tone. “The guy was, as you could probably see, a piece of shit. I don’t know what you were doing anywhere near the bastard, but probably best you forget about this and move on, yeah? I doubt you two knew each other, based on what I saw.”
“You killed him. Shot him in the throat,” she replied. It sounded dumb and childish even to her ears.
“Mhm,” he hummed in response. He sounded almost happy about it.
“Why?”
“Because he was a piece of shit?”
Kris didn’t even know how to respond to that. He’d said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. There wasn’t even a hint of remorse.
The man sighed, dropping to one knee in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten so close.
“This really had nothing to do with you. Wrong place, wrong time, as they say. He was expecting us to buy from him, we were expecting to get rid of him without witnesses. But you don’t exactly strike me as an honest, upstanding, law-abiding citizen, if you know what I mean.”
He gestured to the guard’s purse, which she still held clenched in one hand.
“So, we have a pretty easy solution here. We pretend you weren’t here, and you do the same. See? Painless.”
Kris nodded. The strange man smiled at her, then patted her on the head.
“Fynch, we’re going to be late,” the masked man called from the mouth of the alley. The strange man - Fynch, Kris corrected herself - rose to his feet and pulled his cape around him, hiding the hand crossbow from view.
“Best of luck, little thief! Oh, and do try to learn how to hold onto these, after all that hard work in ‘acquiring’ them!”
Then Fynch tossed her her own coin purse again, which she caught with an embarrassed flush to her cheeks.
The two strangers left down the alley, and Kris watched them until they were out of sight. Eventually, long after they’d departed, she started the long, creeping walk back towards the tent city.
But her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about them the entire way home.