It was dark, but light spilled in from the hallway, giving him just enough illumination to see the room. It was almost familiar, there was the bed he had slept in, a desk, parchment, a quill, even a red robe, and a mask. The difference was the person sleeping in his bed.

Dellen felt a flash of panic.

The sleeping figure stirred, making an inarticulate grunt, starting to shield their eyes from the light from the hallway and rise.

Dellen kicked the door shut, trapping Gilgamesh on the other side.

Moving from the door to the side of the bed in under a second, he slapped his hand across the still-waking initiate’s mouth with his right hand, while raising a spitting spark from the index finger of his left hand.

“If you say anything or scream I will release ball lightning down your throat,” Dellen said in a tone that was both quiet and threatening. His fingers dug into the cheeks of the man he held.

For his part the man no longer looked groggy, his eyes squinted away from the brightness of the spark, and a strangled scream died in his throat.

“Understand?” Dellen asked.

Eyes still wide, the man nodded at Dellen.

“I’m going to talk, quietly, and you’re going to listen. I’m here looking for the unsullied that were bought. Do you know anything about them?”

A furrow appeared between the man’s eyebrows and he shook his head.

Dellen sighed, of course not, that would have been too easy. Then again, when he had been assigned this room he had been bought with the ‘unsullied’ and that had been the limit of his knowledge. This man could well have been bought in the same auction as Dellen had been. “I’m going to need your mask,” he glanced at his clothing, “And your robe.”

“They just ran by,” he heard Gilgamesh yell from outside the hallway.

“I’m going to let go of you now, if you find the need to scream, or otherwise alert anyone to my presence, I will be forced to resort to violence, if you will give me your mask, I will try to get you out of the compound.” Dellen locked eyes with the man, “Do you want to stay here?”

The man shook his head.

Dellen took his hand from the man’s mouth, “What’s your name?”

“Orion Blacktar,” he said, his voice a little rough.

“What Trinity are you, Orion?”

“Second.”

“And what affinity do you have?”

“Terra.”

Dellen leaned a little closer, “Can you help me find the ‘unsullied?’”

“What are the unsullied?”

He exhaled, “A group of unforged men and women the order just bought.”

Orion looked confused again, “Unforged? Not even a single metal? Where would you.” He stopped asking questions after a single sharp look from Dellen.

“How long have you been with the order?”

“One day.”

Dellen gave a frustrated laugh, “How did you end up here?”

“I was an ore merchant, our ship was taken a few days ago, our captors brought us here, the order bought me yesterday.”

Orion’s story paralleled his own, Dellen wondered if that meant people were sold in Ravenport that often, or if it was just that Orion would have been sold at the same auction he was sold in. “Stay here, I’m going to need your mask, I’ll be back with another one.”

“What if someone comes looking for you?”

“Lie.” He could see that advice did not sit well with Orion.

Orion sat up and sighed, looking down and away from Dellen. “Take the mask, take the robe.”

Dellen backed away from Orion and watched his body language. From the slump of his shoulders, Orion seemed defeated. The spark on Dellen’s finger died, casting the room into darkness. Dellen shed his red robe, and pulled on the order’s robe and the mask, feeling repelled by the familiarity. He brought a new spark to the tip of his finger. Orion sat on his bed, posture unchanged.

“Just go.”

Dellen frowned, he had only just met Orion, owed him nothing, “I’m going to try and find you another mask, if you do want to leave the compound tonight.”

Orion looked up, face skeptical, and just laughed a bitter laugh, “No one here helps anyone.”

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Words of argument died in his throat, no one had helped him when he slept in this room, and Miss Thornbrook had even said, the order sought to isolate their members. “I’m not part of the order, I try to help people.”

Orion looked at him and nodded, but it was clear he was just nodding, not really agreeing.

“You need to move!” Gilgamesh yelled from the corridor.

With one last look at Orion, Dellen let the spark on his finger fade, and opened the door to the hallway.

The hallway was lit well enough to seem bright in comparison to the dark room.

“You look odd in that mask,” Gilgamesh observed, “I don’t think I could recognize you in it.”

Dellen closed the door, “Isn’t that the whole idea?” He asked, his voice a low whisper.

“Yes, now they went that way,” Gilgamesh said, indicating a direction further away from the stairs.

“How many, was it all of them?”

“I don’t know, I don’t think so. Where do we go next?”

Dellen had been thinking about that, if he was trying to isolate people, he would keep them apart and underground. He had never seen any unforged in the mealtime crowds, which made him suspect that they ate in other places. “Either up, or down.”

“That is not just unhelpful, it is spectacularly unhelpful.”

“Down,” Dellen decided.

Together they walked back to the stairwell, paying attention to any sounds that might indicate Dellen’s pursuers.

“Why isn’t the entire compound awake now?” Gilgamesh asked.

“They just saw a robed figure walk into the building, if you were a guard, would you want to wake up one of the high Trinity members of the order when you didn’t even know who had gone in the door?”

“Yes,” Gilgamesh said, voice brimming with confidence.

“They’re not supportive here, I don’t know how it would go for a guard if they roused the wrong person and had nothing to show for it, but I don’t think it would go well.”

“How long do you think we have? Could we just wait a few hours and they’d give up?”

“I don’t think so.”

Gilgamesh flew ahead to the stairs, “I think they’re clear, let’s go.”

If someone could have heard Gilgamesh, or if he could touch solid objects, he would have made a better scout, as it was, at least he made it easier for Dellen to charge ahead.

A second later, Gilgamesh called back to him, “Hurry ahead.”

Dellen slipped onto the stairs, but contrary to Gilgamesh’s suggestion, he kept his pace slow, not wanting to be loud enough to alert anyone to his passage. Whoever had followed him from the guard post had slowed down, but he did not believe they would have stopped, yet.

He maintained a steady pace down the stairwell, listening for the sounds of any other footsteps. Gilgamesh drifted back to him, “Why are you going so slowly? Hurry!”

“I’m trying to be quiet,” he replied, voice as low as he could make it while remaining audible.

“Being quiet will not help you if they find you on the stairs!”

It was somehow satisfying hearing Gilgamesh sound a bit more worked up about the situation, but Dellen took his point, and hurried his pace, just a little. Seeing that he was going faster, Gilgamesh again flew ahead, and immediately called back, “There’s someone ahead!”

Dellen felt his calm crack, and an unpleasant pulse in his stomach, he stumbled on the steps and fell, scuffing his hands on the stone.

“What was that?” He heard a voice say.

Ignoring the scrapes on his hands, Dellen pushed himself up.

“Run!” He heard Gilgamesh yell.

Dellen was already in the process of turning to run, when a body blurred past him. “What are you doing little initiate?” A voice in front of him asked.

For a moment Dellen stopped to consider the man in front of him, he was tall and on a step above him. The chest of his robes had a silver symbol on it, though not as detailed as the symbol on Ardentus’s chest, Third Trinity, Dellen guessed, and judging by the way he had flown past Dellen, an Aetherforged with Kinematic Aether.

“Were you out on the grounds without permission?”

“I thought you said they didn’t like to talk.” Gilgamesh squeaked from behind.

“What do you think, Arlo,” said a voice from the stairwell behind Dellen, “Maybe we just put him in a cell for the night, let his trainer deal with him in the morning?”

Dellen felt a cool surge of relief, they had accepted him as an initiate, now it was a question of whether he went with them, and let them lock him into a cell, which would be resistant to his escaping, and assuredly monitored, or he could try his luck against at least one Aetherforged of the Third Trinity. He grimaced and looked behind him, the other Aetherforged had a similar symbol on his chest, probably Third Trinity as well.

Two Aetherforgeds of the Third Trinity.

He hung his head in mock acceptance.

“Don’t say anything, initiate, you will only make things worse for yourself,” Arlo said with an ugly grin.

Dellen had held his own in the exhibition against Aetherforged a Trinity above himself, though it had been a struggle. This was two Aetherforged, each at least a Trinity above him, and he did not know the affinity of the second.

The Aetherforged flanked Dellen on the stairs, and led him down, “Seen the cells before, initiate?”

Dellen ground his teeth, being called ‘initiate’ irritated him. He was not an initiate, any more than Orion was an initiate or Ingraham was. As far as he could tell, none of them were there of their own free will.

“Faster, you have a cell to relax in,” Arlo said with an ugly laugh.

“He’s starting to irritate me,” Gilgamesh said.

Dellen’s fingers itched for conflict, it would be so easy, both of them assumed they had a small, cowed, initiate, he could probably render one unconscious before the other knew a conflict had begun. Arlo, Dellen decided, he would attack Arlo first.

They led him down another four flights of stairs.

“How deep does this stairwell go?” Gilgamesh asked, “First the Thunderstrike Syndicate, and now here, why are they building so far underground?”

Dellen remembered Lady Katherine, and her terra affinity, he was sure an aetherforged like her could hollow out the space needed for this in a day, maybe less.

They came to the bottom of the stairwell. The was a new guard post, and walls of cells.

“This looks unfriendly,” Gilgamesh said.

Dellen agreed, it was quiet, other than the odd sound of dripping water.

The guard post was small and sparsely furnished. A sturdy wooden desk stood against one wall, cluttered with stacks of parchment and a few weathered books. Next to the desk, a shelf held various items, keys, lanterns, shackles, and restraints. A trio of guards were stationed there, they wore the signature red robes of the order, their faces hidden beneath hoods, their expressions stern and alert. Each one carried a gleaming sword at their side.

“What affinity do you have?” One of the guards asked him, his tone bored.

The cells were probably designed to work against the affinity of their occupant, maybe he could just lie about his affinity and wait for Arlo to leave.

As though reading his mind, Arlo said, “Don’t lie. You will be required to demonstrate your affinity.”

Dellen still considered lying, “Electrical.”

“Hmm, you must be new,” the guard said, “Haven’t seen you before.”

Dellen wondered if most initiates eventually spent a night in a cell, just to teach them to obey.

“I’ve got it from here,” the guard said, waving Arlo and Dellen’s other captor away with a dismissive shake of his hand.