It never felt like my eyes closed or truly opened by the time I realized where I was. Instead it felt like blotches of black simply covered my eyes until I was where I was supposed to be. The painted darkness faded from the corners of my vision and dissolved the center, revealing an expanse that I did not recognize, an array of scarred trees, bereft of leaves and failing to cover the white abyss that painted what I knew should be the sky, an endless glow with no clouds to disrupt. The trees showed no shades of brown from the bark, no green highlighted the grass, no sound entered my ears besides the grumbling of my own swollen stomach.
The blanket of void bled from the sky to the ground, making the two blinding and indistinct. The trees, the houses in the distance, any object apart was shades of black. I could only scarcely tell the trees were burned by their darker hue.
The grumbling of my stomach knew no limits to my weary frame, feeling the growls in my thighs, the rumbles and gurgles in my own chest. The sounds of the world, where birds should have been busy, meant nothing to my ears. Cold wind, the rain, the ground beneath my feet could never beg enough to be noticed to my foreign self.
I knew this was not me.
Forms walked in front of me, moving forms of lighter blacks, their growling stomachs making their skins crawl, vibrate and slip in places, revealing the bones and remnants of unwound muscle that kept them in place. One turned to me. I thought I could see a face, perhaps hear a voice. It all meant nothing however. If they smiled upon me, urged for me to come along, it looked nothing like it should be. All that was before me was a shade of black, a moving mass that held no purpose. The sound of their voice just blended to the choir of my churning organs, scraping bones and failing structures. As the hunger persisted, I felt my body sink and fall apart.
A speck of gold light appeared in the distance, followed by a few more. Weary travelers outside of their settlement at night, away from the burning of tether boxes. If a voice was said, no signal was required. The dozen forms beside me rushed out from the trees and ambushed the three men and two women, whose figures became clearer as their golden aura came closer to our stampede. We ripped them apart without effort, their arms and legs separating as easily as water from a lake in cupped hands. The delectable meal had no taste to my form, but the gold radiated on my tongue and warmed the shifting abomination of tubes and passageways that came afterwards.
I felt full but for a moment, the hunger came again, overpowering the sense of anything more desirable. The sun came over the horizon and those next to me collapsed, their assortment of bones being all that remained before they too were dust that disintegrated before the eye.
“Hey, hot stuff.” A light smack on the cheeks. “Wake up.” A few more came alongside pokes in the forehead. I blinked a few times, realizing I really did close my eyes last night. Such a relief to know it was merely a weird dream.
The giant hung her head just over mine, adopting a glare and readying her finger, threatening to poke me again until I said something useful to her. “Good morning to you too, Ice Queen.” Not amused, her finger adorned a casing of ice before poking me in the forehead and keeping it there until I moved. I simply hugged onto her frame until she bent back up, letting me drop onto the floor with my extended legs.
“Tch.” She simply scoffed before moving over to the maniacally condensed contents of our room, using simple spells a caster would employ in their menial jobs to reduce the vials, maps and more to something she could sling over her shoulder. The sack full of downsized foods and weapons would be for me to carry.
The fervor she greeted every day with was the only motivation I had to get myself ready as well, though part of me still dreaded relinquishing this bed for whatever we’ll find along the way tonight, tomorrow and the next day. Maybe beds actually made for giant-kind will just be massive playgrounds and I’ll get the best sleep out of my two decades.
With no ceremony, Morrigan led the way downstairs, passing by the dozens of doors with Do Not Disturb signs and the sounds of couples proving that the wood wasn’t thick enough, even on the premium floors. A door on the third floor threatened to fall over into the hall with how viciously some pair was propped against it. The squeak of the bending door hinges prompting Morrigan to slam her fist into the center of the door, probably toppling over the noisemakers and hitting something, judging by the blood curdling scream that’d give a banshee a run for their money.
As compared to the night before, the Guild was close to silent, with the chatter of barmaids and morning bartenders being the only ones around. The most noise one would hear on a morning like this would be from some of the stronger employees lugging drunks from their hiding places, doing their best not to pay for a room. Give them credit, if I had to pay for a night here, I’d probably have to turn in five more quests to afford the second night, and that’s without the extra bells and flourishes.
“You two are up early.” Marlene, one of the owners of the establishment appeared from behind the partner with her gallery of apprentices. Her eyes scanned the two of us, inspecting the bags on our backs. “Ahh, have you two finally had enough of my hospitality?”
“We’ll just be away for a while, have a small favor to pay you back for, Miss Fenra.” I spoke simply. “We’ve found where those Wardens got their chain braids from last night.”
“Ahh, very good.” She replied with a small smile, her purple lipstick and green eyes standing out in their contrast on her aging face and fraying brown hair. “Judging from your gear though, you expect this to be a long trip.”
“No.” Morrigan interjected before I could speak. “He’s not far, but I must return to my home to check on my family.”
The look on Marlene’s face suddenly became a subtle shade of sullen. “I see, that’s quite a ways.”
“Yes, and Alu here is volunteering to help me back there. You might see him back, if you wouldn’t mind keeping our room.”
That smile reemerged. “Of course.” The door opened behind her to show Gina sauntering through, hair a mess, eyes droopy until the pair of us came into view. “Ahh, Gina, darling.” A stack of papers previously held to Marlene’s chest were dropped into Gina’s hands. “Before you go back out for scouting, make sure we get some of those salts from Dowie: makes for some really sought after drinks.” She simply nodded her head and backed away into the door, keeping her eyes on us until she couldn’t anymore.
“If something goes awry, which I don’t think will...” Morrigan began. “Take this, so we can have somewhere safe to teleport.” She handed Marlene the second half of my braid coated in a purple and white finish, to call her own.
“Of course, darlings.” She replied. “Best of luck on your journey, don’t be afraid to send adventurers our way.”
“Perhaps the extra coin can give this place a soldier boy whacking stick.” I simply added, before we walked out the double doors, receiving a few late goodbyes from the staff.
The northern edges of Fahren bolstered a lake with three connecting rivers that went in their own directions, with only one going for more than five miles. The spire in the western seas, an everlasting well of ice connecting the water and the clouds, made the rivers flood every few days, leading to the lake overflowing onto the banks of the town. Those who made their living here resided in sweltering wooden huts, surrounded by sandbags and improvised moats.
Maps for the rivers would have to be updated every month ever since this spire came into being a year ago. That’s at least what the toilers in the huts would tell us whenever we went out, trying to sell a map scrawled on the spot. The same happened today, even though the same toothless man just saw us yesterday when we were on our way towards the rails.
On our merry way up the river, Morrigan used one of her many little spells to make an invisible force push our boat forward from behind. I kept myself occupied with the paddle to steer the moving craft, while she pulled out one of her books. A loose piece of paper was snatched between her fingers, with many others working as bookmarks and messy edges between the pages.
“So where are we going?” The paddle occasionally touched the ground of the river, which was at least two feet deeper a few weeks ago.
“Small little place called Derngahl. Not a lot to say about the place except that it was a hot spot for alchemists after Jeremiah came about.”
“Old malignant settlement?” From the texts she’s shown me, that was a name he often had for magic users later in life. Others had told me stories and loose bits of folksay, but none of them had looted the burned remains of his kingdoms. The original collection of charred stone and disassembled remains is still untouched as far as I’m aware, Wardens claiming curses by the witches they prattle on about.
“One not really worth noticing it seems. Might’ve been the birthplace of braids, but that’s all.”
“What do you plan on doing when we get there?” The clouds moved overhead, prompting Morrigan to cast another spell to put an invisible dome over our ship, making the incoming rain curve around us.
“Well if we can’t convince him to stop working with Wardens, and instead work with the Guild.” She adopted her best evil smile, which wasn’t exactly hard for her to do. “I’ll ask you to help with coercion.”
“Of course.” I said with a roll of the eyes.
“It’s not murder, it’s just interrogation!” She replied with glee.
When I didn’t know how to reply, her face returned to a neutral state before looking away and setting back. “You’re thinking about Gina, aren’t you?”
“I appreciate what you did, but you do too much for me.” My voice was lower than I intended, finding it hard to look at her for a second.
“I know that death makes you uncomfortable.” She simply stated, reaching over and grabbing my arm. “I’m just looking out for your well-being. I expected some resistance, but I didn’t want that stuff to make you have nightmares.” She sat back and looked directly into my eyes. “Like the one you were having last night.”
My tongue seized as my lips parted, my brain shorting out and my heart holding still for once. The visions from before were confusing in their origin, and terrifying in their display. I had a feeling what they could be, but I didn’t want to make her panic or start taking me apart to figure out why it's happening until I knew for certain.
“Sorry if I shifted you awake. It was...fairly intense.”
“You’re fine.” She said with a smile on her face, her voice faded into my mind, keeping her lips still. “And you can tell me anything if it bothers you. I’d like to think I’ve gotten good at understanding that by now.” The giggle in my head was shown as a small smile on her pale face. “You’re just lucky I can’t read your mind.” I couldn’t read hers either but it was another trick she learned on her journeys, but she’d told me it perplexed her for months on why I was an impenetrable fortress when she could read most minds with no effort. Being a siphon, she takes from the elements of the world like a war puppeteer, including people if she were to be sadistic, bending every essence of being alive or existing to her will. Would love to claim cleverness and skillfulness for my exception, but I’m clueless on anything but wielding flame, and even that’s as strong as a child's grasp.
Our easy ride regrettably came to an end, a few miles still from our destination. The flooded rivers gave us nothing but sinking mud foundations to trudge through for an hour.
Derngahl likely met the description mothers would give their children when talking about scary places to avoid. If not for the few hags manning stalls on the roads of loose stone, one could call it itinerant at best. Broken windows, protruding boards and hole-ridden shingling was fairly typical out of guideless settlements, places where no mayor or authority held reign. The community held up itself simply because your neighbors were your livelihood. Evident enough that no one in town was a carpenter.
Joseph Angella was easy enough to find, with his name being displayed in a garish orange on an otherwise soot stained abode. The sign read “open” but as soon as Morrigan rapped her knuckles against the wood, the sound of several sliding locks commenced.
“Mr. Angella.” Morrigan said calmly, motioning me to put some heat just before the metal. “I have an urgent purchase I need to make.”
No response. A thin flame appeared from my fingertip, concentrated in a beam, separating the rods of steel instantly. Morrigan repeated her greeting, hardly waiting another five seconds for response before she pushed the door open. Stepping in front of her, not even a few creaks of the wood came before a flurry of melted nails and squished trash flew past my face. Turning to the source, it ran in a hurry, knocking over shelves of vials, containing gods know what, releasing horrid smells one would expect from rotting animals and toppled outhouses.
Undeterred, I quickly climbed the makeshift ladders, laying flat on top as I pulled myself through to the other side. The single shot pipe laid on the floor before the stairs, with our target about to close a door at the top. Grabbing the weapon, I threw for the alchemist’s leg, prompting a small yelp of pain, a window of opportunity. Jumping up a few stairs, I leapt again to prop my body between the frame and closing door. My head collided with the runaway, a bearded man with tears in his eyes. I stood over him with a knife in my hand, giving him the simple command to not move.
Listening was optional to him however, as he pulled out what appeared to be a makeshift crossbow mounted to his wrist. Dodging the bolt, my sight on him was compromised for a mere second, but it was enough for him to grab a fallen bottle and smash it against my chin. Clutching my face and pulling back what strength I had to stop the blood, Angella shifted and kicked me off. Scrambling for the window, he yelped and cursed as the floor beneath gave way to tendrils of blue breaking through, latching onto his legs and violently pulling him through the lumber. Stumbling a little, I sealed the wound behind my beard, barely managing to not set it ablaze through tethers I hardly understood. Morrigan called for me from the basement below, Angella being yanked through two sets of flooring. Jumping down to meet her, she retracted the tendrils but pinned the plump coward with a foot to the spine.
“Are you ready to be cooperative, Angella?” Morrigan said, pressing her heel harder into the man. Between a giant’s foot and the jagged rock basement of a converted farmhouse, he wasn’t in any position to bargain anymore.
“I saw you two degenerates coming a mile off.” He spat into the ground, voice rugged but as intimidating as the window toads.
“I think that’s a compliment compared to the usual labels.” Morrigan replied in an aloof manner, casually pressing harder - her smile widening with every crack and pop.
“Don’t kill him, hun.” I said in a low tone. “That’s supposed to be the last option.” As I looked into the man’s eyes, crouching to his level, he gritted his teeth, some blood coating the lower gums.
“Go ahead, scum.” Spitting the blood but missing my face, being pulled back to the ground before it could even reach my chin. “My family suffered until the Wardens came, I will not betray their generosity.”
“Even if you know they’ll silence you after your services are no longer useful?” Morrigan added.
“We’ll all have a place, after their work is done.”
“After they inspire destruction to anyone who disagrees with being reined in.”
“We’ll all be useful…the dragons failed to keep us safe, the Mad King killed them, the Guiding Light will rekindle this world or show us where to find it.”
“Useful slaves.”
The man struggled under her heel, blood boiling from the words traded.
“Going to ask you this once, Angella.” I spoke up. “Break your contact with the Wardens and give your talents to us. We’re stopping the wars from ever happening.” Victory will never be a decisive and quick affair if a second Mage Rebellion sweeps the land, blood will cover every home, soil every farm with bodies.
“You’re a man!” Angella protested at me, the blood dripping from his lips. “Are you being held under this giant’s thumb?! Or are you a madman?!”
“I’ll take that as a no, never, not in your lifetime.”
“You’re right for once in your pitiful life - fornicating with witches and destroyers.” Another attempt to spit at me, a little closer this time.
Morrigan nodded at me to try different measures. Reaching my hand behind his head, I beckoned flame to my fingers and pressed them to a blade in my other hand, pressing the flat to his neck. The screaming that came afterwards transferred more blood from his lips to the floor, at times reuniting as he pressed his face to the uneven rock.
Retracting my fingers, I pulled the little hair he had on this head, bringing his face close to mine. “Ready to consider switching sides, Angella?” I said to him, this time he managed to succeed in spitting blood on my face.
“You….you...blasted abomination!” He struggled under Morrigan, trying even harder than before, despite the bones in his body protesting. “Killer of the old gods! Dragon butcher!”
“It’s just a paste, Angella. Are you telling me an alchemist like yourself couldn’t make something to the same effect?” Morrigan proclaimed. Our objective was lost now however as our hostage went into absolute hysterics, listening little and screaming plentifully. We debated in our minds what to do while Angella continued to curse and scream, wishing for my death specifically. Dreaming of cutting me open, seeing what I stole and stitched into my body from the former guardians of the sky. No matter what I told him however, he would believe all of that since the Wardens got to tell their story before I was even born.
The rumblings came again, the intensity shaking the window from its frame upstairs, falling down the hole we stood under. The rest of the shelves came with it, the storm outside apparent and growing. Morrigan and I jumped to our own corners as the rubble fell instantaneously upon Angella’s weakened body.
"There’s a window on the left side of the basement. Get to it!" Morrigan uttered as she pushed aside the piling rubble on her side. "I’ll go out the front door."
Stumbling through the basement with the house vibrating, a small window pane came into view. Scanning the room around me, I grabbed a set of sheep shears on the ground and threw it through the cheap glass, before squeezing through the space. The destitute area we came in through was overflowing with panic and the source of the violent shakes - a spire had begun to form from the mountaintop behind the village, spreading from the tip to the base in seconds. Chunks of rock flying into every house, making for far too many close calls as I dodged the debris.
"Morrigan, where are you?!" I screamed internally, hoping for a quick response.
"The path we came in on!"
I tried to make a straight shot for the main gate but a rockslide consumed the streets leading there. Focusing long and hard, I felt my own tethers weakly grasp at a home nearby - pulling me to the roof in seconds, even with my overwhelming apprehension. Adrenaline won the argument this time as I grappled invisibly to the tallest house I could find, feeling a strain on my spine and arms for the task. In the distance I could see her, deflecting the raining rocks, waiting for me to come join her instead of getting as far as possible from the widening whirlwind of destruction. My mouth went dry, limbs aching in anticipation of what I was about to attempt but the desire to live outweighed by ignorance in the craft of tetherwork.
Grabbing onto a passing boulder, I launched myself into the air. Down below, I saw Morrigan erecting walls and starting to take hits from the smaller weights smacking against her frame. Desperately, I grabbed another piece of flying debris to further my flight but its shape and speed broke off my attempt and the dismount left me flailing and screaming before the entrance of the village. Getting into the air was far too easy, but falling safely was another matter entirely. Reaching and pulling at anything I could see, I met the ground before my stunt could be achieved. My right leg cracked, I bowed forward and my arm on the same side immediately grew fat with agony upon joining the ground.
My vision blurred, blacked and restored itself for a moment before I saw Morrigan for a mere moment - creating a dome of stone quickly chipping and fracturing as she took her hands off the roof and dug through her bags. Pulling out the braid, our hands joined around it as a bright explosion of purple and blue enveloped us. My only thought before the light robbed me of clarity was that I hoped Marlene didn’t store the braid in a drawer.
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The world as it is now is not one that rewards kindness from a delicate hand and a paragon mind - nor does it reward the swift jab from a starving outcast. It all comes down to what you can live with - the cold layer of waiting and praying or the quick sting of being ruthless and covetous. Words our former thief master told us every night around the campfire, sometimes in rhyme, tapping a rhythm or stealing from the latest bard he held a knife to.
Alu refused to see the world that way, regardless of how many times we ducked our heads when the Wardens came - subduing the tethercrafters for doing anything outside of what is required for work and the guiding light at best, and spewing death orders for his kind at worst. The scar of Jeremiah’s slaughter of the dragons, aided by tethercrafters made this world as cruel as it is - and us lowly filth with a talent still had to endure such an arrangement before we never asked to be born.
“Get that cloud out of your eyes, Gina and help me with the damn dishes.” Marlene shouted while I brought out my map and plotted my next route for the daily tips on the enemy. That damn giant has me feeling paranoid over that display earlier last night. Men turned in their coin as agreed upon for their own tasks given to me, but they came of their own trust - that iceborn butcher didn’t ask for my service, I hastily offered it upon hearing the pair request for any upcoming jobs. I don’t regret being involved, even if my purse is lighter than it ought to be - I did not lie to them. I saw and believed the absurdity within Warden castle walls, I talked with militia as I filled them with drink and held their throats tight to harden the sincerity. A dead cult that popped up and disappeared as soon as those armored bastards came is not something that should be talked about idly - especially by citizens stupid enough to forge their own armor from cookware and inherit fortunes of meager farms.
As I soaked my hands into the sink, Marlene rattled off the oddities of cleanup duty to the barmaids and guards - everything that should be looked into to ensure there are no stowaways, no braids left behind by patrons that could prove to be a problem. Bitter adventurers had occasionally boosted their bravery with drink after being rejected for their unproven strength - many from small villages and guideless settlements, a few claiming they’ve slain great beasts like dragons and serpents that wouldn’t have been a tale worth telling by the elusive father that burdened their mothers with child.
As the last bit of disgusting skin and bone slid into the trash before being immersed in the hot water, my eyes wandered to where Marlene had walked off from. In my reminiscing, I failed to notice her absence as she had forgotten to secure the braid Morrigan had given her - lying in the open compartment beneath the bar top. The chains glowed to me in a way that gave terrible ideas - but only held such weight when I would be caught. The wrinkles upon the face of the Guild owner spurred a confidence in twisting my tongue for the most juicy lie crafting. No words need be said if she forgets to be concerned for it.
Wrapping my hand around the braid, I just hoped to myself I wouldn’t feel the giant explode from my hand at that very moment. Once she takes you to the North, Alu, then what? The man would have no place up there, special power in fire be damned by that endless cold - how that race of brutes went from one end of the unforgiving skies to the other, I’ve no idea. Could only hope that ghost-skinned vulture gets herself in trouble on her own. I assured myself that Alu and her would separate before then, one sign of real danger, true fear, and that thief will run while tripping on his own cloak - the Alu I knew.
“Greetings, Gina - Marlene need anything more than the usual?” Vin had said while tending to his horse, skittish and bruised after wearing the gear connecting it to his lopsided carriage tall enough to cast a shadow between himself and the Guild.
“Just a little bit more zekus spice for this time of year, Vin.” I replied while scanning the roped up bags and the creases in between with my fingers. “Are you being careful down south?” Finding my opening, I pushed the braid in between two bags of grains stacked together, reaching as far as my arm would go before the weight started crushing my elbow.
“Ahh, no need to worry about me.” Turning to face me, I kept my arms behind my back. “I always keep my hunting to the outer reaches, before you even get to Colossi territory.” Reaching his hand into the front entrance of the carriage, he pulled out a long pipe powder bolter. “Even got myself one of these on my last trip just buried in the sand, chased off some bandits trying to nab my steed when I was on the southern bank.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to know some tetherwork so you don’t have to keep finding metal balls for that contraption.”
Joseph heartily laughed at my suggestion. “And who's gonna teach me how to do that now? Shall I go up on the streets and hope that the first one I ask doesn’t turn me in for caster duty?”
Scoffing and rolling my eyes, I simply waved him off before returning to the kitchen inside. If Marlene knew she misplaced the braid, her elderly face certainly wasn’t showing it. In my time here, I’d never seen her as anything other than furious or welcoming - nothing but cool and composed, even in a stern rage.
Unsheathing my own shortsword, I pulled at the braid attached to the bottom - the chains jingled and vibrated as a chill laid upon my entire body - like being shoved into the Endless Seas face first. From head to toe, the dry cold left my form until the abrasive texture of a tree made itself known to my backside. I sat beneath the roof of the old oak, feeling the grains of the braid fall into my hands from one half and into my hair from the other. Pushing them into a small brown bag, I made a note to myself to find a forger to make new tethers fit these fading sands. Looking to my left, it appeared my tree was alone as the workers of Sarengound cut down its companions and covered the grass in sawdust. I jumped and dashed across the rolling fields and mounds before they came to take my seat as well.
I took out my monocular and gazed at the castle that now surrounded the humble village from Jeremiah times. A fortress would be a better name for what no longer could be seen as a collection of homes with the human eye. Scanning and cursing to myself as I doubted my own memory, the glass finally settled on the links I pierced into the wall - a braid of my own that lets my monocular see through the thick walls of stone and clarify the image. Through one link I saw the town center, a stone monolith with engravings of the story passed around a million times at the Guild by new patrons. A rally was being held by the blue and silver armored protectors of the faithful, giving sermons about the Guiding Light and the flawlessly successful efforts in quelling the Vacuous - monsters given presence in our world since the dragons fell, now that their flames no longer scorch these intruders. I at least assumed this was what was going on, despite the smartest forgers on the Guild’s payroll, this link could only magnify the sight but not the sound. The daily routine for these chrome bastards never deviated in the light of day however:
Step 1: Play the songs we must be forced to know.
Step 2: Tell tales of how grateful we should be.
Step 3: Praise the Guiding Light, the gift from the former gods to protect us from Jeremiah’s chaos.
Step 4: Never get around to how that happened.
Step 5: Recruit, recruit, recruit.
Step 6: Expand, expand, expand.
Adjusting my hands, I looked for another link in the wall and peered into another part of Sarengound before lining up another link and peering into the Guiding Throne - a dome of white stone and decorated glass heavily guarded by the genuine Wardens, shunning away the militia and the particularly devout. Only they traversed the somber structure - with one entrance and the exit laying out the first train lines ever constructed, supplying the main station the common man could use and the reaching roots that were cut by every sovereign collection of souls.
The welcoming bright of the outer walls hid the coldness of the lights within - balls of white and blue that withered and reformed as objects and people moved past. A blue source of light obscured the bottom of my link’s passage, granting view of only the top halves of the Wardens inside. A blonde haired woman played with the hair of a redhead in front of her in a way that looked affectionate, bordering on romantic as she then held their face in her hands and said something that made them flinch upwards. Letting go and walking past, two men nearby looked towards her before simply following. The crimson-haired Warden stood perfectly still with her head tilted upwards. I hesitated to call it a woman, a person the more I looked. Lines were drawn upon the neck, shallow cuts that moved with every breath, the eyes emitting a faint light ahead, a body like stained porcelain, a rough imitation of fair skin with faded blotches and more of those lines meeting at the shoulders, forearms and wrists.
“What in the fuck am I looking at?” I muttered to myself. It turned towards the wall my link was embedded in, staring blankly. Even the eyes themselves sat too deeply within the head to be normal. Seemingly aware of this, a robe was pulled from the other side of the room and wrapped around the figure, still staring intently at the wall. The head and body were wrapped like a corpse going into the ground, with only one eye still peering, glowing a sickening yellow that shifted and swirled.
I took my eye out of the monocular and pulled out my spare braid for a quick Guild hop. This was beyond the Mechanist on a train, it was something else entirely - a false body could mean an army some day too soon. I took one more glance through the monocular and saw the Throne completely empty. Sweat coated my brow as I threw the monocular in my bag, squeezing on my braid but struggling to even move my right hand’s fingers. Trying to smash the braid with my left hand, that too felt submerged in mud for all the progress and sweat I made, a blur came into view before my arms were forced behind me and I was swept into the tree beside me. The false flesh wearer stood before me with its one eye, followed by their blonde companion
“Oh perfect.” The Warden said as she grazed my face with her gloved hands. “Gina Cambris, a member of a Guild and an associate of wanted defilers.”
“How do you know my name, you necrophilic zealot?” My entire body couldn’t move, my wrists and ankles bound by an invisible string that kept tightening.
“I don’t need you to tell it to me, you little snoop.” A gleeful smile never seemed to leave that face. “You never learned to keep your thoughts guarded, it seems.” Squeezing my forehead between her fingers, a coy laugh came. “Not that it seems like there’s much in there.” Wardens did possess the ability to read minds, but most of us had never been this close to one - and even that bitch of the north could do the same somehow. “Nice of you to think of them, makes it a little easier for me instead of digging through that muck you call a thought pile.”
“You think even your followers are going to accept that thing amongst them?” I spat back. “The Mechanists died when you came and everyone gratefully forgot, yet you’re propping up what looks like their bedside companion!”
That smile finally left, with a stern frown in its place. “Where are they? Morrigan Kasteros and her dragon butcher.” I tried to think of anything but them, maybe slow her down. The Warden saw this idea and slammed her fist against my head before adopting a truthful smile - a malicious display of smirk and teeth. “Derngahl, I see. And you hid their ticket back home.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“As amusing as your ideas of mutilation are, I’m afraid this pleasant spat is over.” She turned to the wrapped doll. “Robin, you know where to go. Do not stray from it.” It nodded and sprinted over the horizon, going south.
“You got what you wanted, let me go.” The strings slacked and my face met the ground before a new set of restraints were forced upon me.
“Oh no, little witch.” Picking me up, the blonde Warden threw me over her shoulder and walked back towards Sarengound. “If you look up, the sky is falling - and your bones shall be the support this world needs.”
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Pain erupted as I felt splinters jab into every part of my exposed body, with the cries of my companion matching my own. Our teleportation led us to roll out of the back of some merchant’s cart. Instead of the grassy plains and moist walkways of our home however, our skin was met with sand. The sun beat down like a summer in Fahren, when we’re a month from winter. Propping myself up with my working arm, the vast horizon held nothing but dunes of sand, a purple sky, and a man dead at my feet, eviscerated by an animal that laid beside it, killed by iron bolters which surrounded us both by dark figures fast approaching.
I raised a hand to cast a warning shot but a net of tethers shot from the ground like a handmade animal trap, Morrigan stood strong for a moment as the lines connected across her body and conjured a suffocating leather that wrapped itself around her towering form in seconds, unable to move her arms and legs, a full body restraint. The same arrangement came upon my frame, filling my skin with an irritating grip that felt like it eradicated the muscle beneath. There was no strength to resist.
I heard cursing as my hearing restored, but my vision fell away ever faster. The back of another cart was the last thing I felt before I passed out completely.