Father acting so flustered was a wonderful sight. A highlight of Riven’s stay in Providence Demesne so far, to be sure. High Invigilator Orbray had announced that he would be visiting Father’s office first thing in the morning, so naturally, Father had to arrive before that to ensure everything was ready for his illustrious guest’s arrival.
Quite strange, considering all the disdain Father held for Orbray. Riven had to wonder if the High Invigilator knew what his subordinate thought of him, and was thus coming early so he might find something awry and thus avail himself of the convenient excuse to finally fire Father.
Of course, it was only the High Invigilator who wielded enough power to oust Father from the fortress-like seat in his office. Orbray had demanded a room worthy of his station, and the Invigilator’s office didn’t qualify. So Father had to rush to make sure the room reserved for more outstanding ceremonies was ready to receive the High Invigilator, and credit to him, Riven judged the room to be quite ready.
He had expected cobwebs and dust, but the walls were gleaming creamy gold, the windowpanes shining as the sunlight refracted into iridescence at the edges, the tiles bright and polished enough to act as mirrors. Rich couches and plump sofas lined both walls, golden rugs with intricate green detailing lining the floors in front to act as soft spots for the feet to rest. The back and left walls were lined with those iridescent-paned windows, the right wall covered with paintings brought in from Norreston, and the front, wood-panelled wall hosted a table filled with breakfast things—scalding tea, boiled eggs, sausages, bread, chilled milk, and an assortment of the freshest fruits and vegetables Rosbel Morell had bothered to scrounge up from who knew where.
Riven’s stomach grumbled, urging him to grab a bite of something. He would too, but it was too improper to partake of food before the guest had arrived. Riven placed a hand on his jacket and tried to distract himself with the outline of the letter he felt there. Mother had sent another missive. He had read it once, but he needed to again. Wasn’t often someone was proud of him and what he’d done.
All thanks to the High Invigilator of the entire Resplendian half of Severance Frontier.
“Don’t fidget so much,” Rose admonished. As the Municipier of Providence Demesne, she had of course been invited to the meeting, along with a handful of other Essentiers who had been close by. “They’ll start becoming suspicious and then the whole plan will collapse.”
Riven looked around at the other Essentiers. Two young Fourthmarkeds, a woman and a man, an older Thirdmarked lady with a wide, flat face, and that balding Secondmarked man he’d seen in the last general meeting standing beside Tam. What a motley crew. “I’m not fidgeting. Well, not anymore.”
Rose didn’t get the chance to point out his fingers were in a war against each other to see which could tap his knees to oblivion. An attendant in a smart suit walked through the open doors. “Announcing, the High Invigilator, Brenton Orbray.”
Father was the first to rise, standing up from his lone couch with his hands behind his back. The rest of them followed, and Riven put his hands behind his back too, clasping them together. Perfect. Now they wouldn’t be able to fly around everywhere and give away his unease. So much could go wrong here in this moment. No, he had to keep his eyes on the prize.
And his prize sauntered in like he owned the place.
High Invigilator Orbray was a man of advanced years, his short and wiry silver hair flattened to emphasize the roundness of his head. His skin was the shade of burnt parchment, his jowls hung pudgy and bulldog-heavy, and his eyes were tiny black dots like apertures of a pinhole camera. He walked with a swagger, cane rapping the ground as though testing the foundations of the building and checking for faults.
Riven peered. The cane’s white spherical knob was veined with grey. Marble. Why in the Chasm was the High Invigilator walking with a marble-topped cane when his feet were sprier than a man half his age?
“Welcome to my humble quarters, High Invigilator.” There was something about seeing Father bow his unbendable back that made Riven’s smile taste like ash. He looked away. “I hope your journey was well. I have prepared food—light fare for now, but a feast will come at the proper time.”
Orbray stopped in the centre of the room and stared all around, eyes slitted and lips puckered. A supreme judging face.
“You there.” He pointed with his cane at the balding Secondmarked. “I wish to take that seat.”
Credit to the Secondmarked Essentier, he only blinked once before evacuating from his couch as though it had caught fire. “All yours, High Invigilator.”
“Thank you.” With more rapping of tiles with his cane, Orbray took a seat. He stared around, still with that judging expression on his face. “I don’t think you quite appreciate the retinue I brought with me, Rosbel.”
“Is the seating arrangements not enough, sir?” Father asked.
“Oh, I’m sure they can squeeze in wherever. It’s just all so… undignified. Take your seat, take your seat. We don’t have time to waste on trivialities.”
Father did so, and the rest of them were about to as well, when Orbray’s aforementioned retinue came in. Riven had a hard time holding his head back from shaking in disbelief. Unbelievable, it really was an actual retinue.
Essentiers made the front line of the High Invigilator’s personal army. Two Firstmarked, one a large, baby-faced man and the other a lean, ferocious-looking woman, led an assortment of other markeds, the pins glinting on their shoulders. Two twinkling diamonds leading in an assortment of golds, silvers, and bronzes. Behind the Essentiers came the rest of Orbray’s personal necessities which amounted to clerks and servants, including what looked like a shoe polisher with a shiny rag and a lady with a paper fan waving through the air. No one had told Riven that Orbray liked to surround himself with an aristocratic circus.
“You see what I mean?” Orbray said, eyes slitted again.
Father nodded, but didn’t rise. “I do. I would of course kindly excuse myself and personally arrange seating for everyone here, but unfortunately sir, you said we had pressing matters?”
Orbray apparently didn’t appreciate his own words flung back at him. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. That attendant who had come in first to announce him nodded hastily, then ran off. Moments later, men came bearing in chairs for the newcomers.
Riven gawked as more and more furniture was dragged in. Where in the Chasm did Father store all these?
Some of the Ascension Essentiers, including the Firstmarkeds, had already taken seats on the couches and sofas, space permitting. The rest of Orbray’s retinue took their places in the new chairs brought in specifically for them.
Orbray didn’t talk again until everyone, including the lady stationed behind his couch to fan his head, had found their seat. “Now. I would begin but we have one more guest.”
“The Luminary, I presume?” Father said.
“Astute as ever, Rosbel.”
Riven barely had time to register the new information before the announcing attendant came in again, pausing at the exact spot when he had proclaimed the arrival of the most esteemed High Invigilator Orbray. Beside Riven, Rose stiffened.
“Announcing, Luminary Shasthi.”
The Luminary of Vedel Arn swept in with the fury of last night’s Septstorm, her red coattails twitching. She paused to glance all over the room, then charged straight to the lone remaining couch right next to Father that everyone else had respectfully stayed away from. Even Orbray himself, though Riven suspected that had more to do with their mutual distaste for each other.
“I have arrived,” she said, plopping herself down. “I am grateful that you waited, Invigilators, but please do begin. I hope all idle chitchat has been taken care of in my absence.”
“Oh, if Rosbel only knew what idle chitchat meant.” Orbray laughed at his quip. Shasthi grinned, though less in solidarity with Orbray and more in antagonism against Father. “But yes, let us begin. Scions know I’ve wasted enough time running between every single Demesne.”
Father sat straighter on his couch if that were even possible. The tension spiked, and everyone in the room froze, rapt with attention and hanging on the High Invigilator’s next words.
Orbray cleared his throat. “Today, I am here to proclaim our righteous war on Severance Frontier. Specifically, on the Sundering Pit within Severance Frontier.”
The quiet that followed spoke volumes. Riven wasn’t sure he had heard right. Had Orbray just said they were going to war against Severance Frontier itself? To fight what, the hordes of demons marauding all over the place? And to gain what, a blasted land that no one could do anything with other than stick a flag that screamed mine!
Father voiced what everyone else—at least, everyone else from Providence Demesne—was thinking. “I apologize, sir, but we’re going to war?”
“We are! I order every Providence Essentier to finish their duties post haste and gather here, in Providence city. And I say Providence only now, for that is what is relevant. Fear not, all other Demesnes have received similar summons The war will be a joint effort.”
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“But sir, we would need approval from the Council, and a meeting with every one of the Invigilators.”
“All taken care of. Well, mostly. I have sent a message to Knightforger who approves and will lead the charge and meet us at Ascension Demesne.” Father cleared his throat to protest again, but Orbray held up hand, a hard glint cropping up in his eyes. “Rosbel, this is my vision for the Demesnes. Too long we’ve toiled under the strain of having to fend off Deathless. Too long we’ve given them free rein to do as they wished on our land, and now look. They’re all up in arms. Attacks everywhere. Fiends kidnapping people, Phantoms murdering left and right, Deadmages taking entire villages for thralls. How long will we let this continue? No, under my watch, the Demesnes will no longer suffer. We’ll eradicate the Deathless, and finally prosper.”
Father held his tongue for a moment, as though holding back from immediately saying no. Instead, he looked around, noting the Essentiers Orbray had brought with him and the rest of his vapid retinue. “Do you supposed we have the strength to storm Severance Frontier now, High Invigilator?”
“Of course we do. With your Essentiers and mine combined, no one can stand in our way. And then there are the other four Demesnes.” Orbray offered a tight-lipped smile to Shasthi. “And of course, we will have the Luminary to guide us and help us as well. The Arnish will be joining our expedition.”
This time, Father said nothing at all. He sat back, content to observe for the moment, letting the implications settle in and the proper thoughts and responses percolate. Orbray didn’t seem to mind. He placed his cane across his knees, observing the marble knob closely as though there was a speck of dirt there he hadn’t noticed before.
Riven swallowed. There was no way what strength they could have gathered together would ever be enough. Not against the hordes Riven had witnessed in the Frontier, even with the strongest Essentiers there. Glaven had fallen to a Deadmage, after all.
“I will need time to make preparations, of course,” Father said.
“Of course.”
“But High Invigilator, if I may ask, what is the purpose behind this sudden offensive? All this aggression seems unwarranted from an economic standpoint. Leaving behind the Demesnes to wage war on the Frontier will put a strain on the careful supply chains we’ve erected here. Is it really worth it destroying all that for some glory.”
Orbray frowned. “I would watch myself if I were you, Rosbel. Your tongue sometimes forgets to put its filter on, and you can’t wax eloquent with me as you can with… all of these.”
With obvious distaste, the High Invigilator jutted his chin at Riven, who scowled. But Father made no move in response, only sitting straighter and steepling his fingers together. There was a challenging look on his face, and Riven’s heart beat faster all of a sudden. The tension in the air rose.
The two most powerful men in Severance Frontier were in this room, and they were finally baring their fangs.
“Regardless, sir, that isn’t an answer to my question,” Father said.
Orbray was silent, as if considering how best to reprimand his subordinate next. “I know about the Cataclysm coming down in the Frontier. Word has spread, and people mutter it in corners and whisper it in taverns. A Cataclysm has descended into the bowels of the world and we have done nothing to rectify the situation. For all we know, it might pop out in your basement and wreak Scions know what havoc. Speaking of, you must have seen that Scions appearance. It’s a portent. A good omen, if ever there was one. We need to act, and act now!”
“Is that all part of your speech for later?”
“I don’t appreciate the implications, Rosbel. You’re overstepping your bounds again.”
Father nodded his head in apology that was the utter opposite of heartfelt. “Forgive me, Invigilator. It’s very sudden for me and I have difficulty gaining a… proper perspective on the whole operation.”
“Of course.” Orbray didn’t look satisfied, but he was letting the matter drop for now. “You’ll get your time to get acquainted with the whole business soon enough.”
Riven frowned. There was a promise in the High Invigilator’s words, and it didn’t escape Father. He frowned too, though he wisely said nothing more. Orbray had been needled enough. But Riven got the feeling there was more going on here, and Orbray knew that Father suspected.
What a tangled web of vines. This war, this expedition into the Frontier, it wasn’t just the next step in the fight against the Deathless. Too many invisible strings were attached, and Riven could see no end to any of them, the picture they formed was too close to the ground for him to make sense of. Like Father, he needed to get back and gain a proper perspective to makes sense of things.
A loud knock interrupted proceedings. Riven jumped in his seat, frowning at the door. Who could be idiotic enough to interrupt this meeting of all things?
Orbray scowled at the door. “This had better be urgent.”
“Apologies, sir,” came the attendant’s muffled voice. “This man insists it’s urgent new about the Deathless and demands to be let into the room. He wants Invigilator Morell specifically, sir.”
Orbray looked sharply at Father, who gave nothing away. His face was unreadable as ever. “Let him in.”
The door opened and the attendant ushered in the Custodian of the Little Lore Orphanage. Lham limped in, head swivelling to take in the whole room as though he had never seen such magnificence before. It wasn’t hard to believe. Chasm, it was hard to believe the man had seen anything more proper than clogged toilets.
Riven’s heart was pounding even faster now. He glanced at Rose, whose lips had thinned and eyes had gone steely. She was staring at the Custodian, a silent warning scrawled all over her harsh expression. A warning Lham ignored.
“Who are you?” Orbray demanded. “Sate your business with Invigilator Morell.”
Lham glanced over them all before his eyes settled on Father. He ignored Orbray, and the High Invigilator did a small double-take, which made Riven smile. What a nice feeling, seeing someone pulled off their high horse. He might be the High Invigilator in Ascension Demesne, but for some over here, he was just another man. “I was here to make a complaint.”
“You interrupted a meeting with me to make a silly complaint?”
“Yes, sir. A complaint about Deathless. I have information you all might lack.”
“What information?”
Lham took a deep breath, his eyes growing wild and feral. “I was attacked by a demon. A little Fiend, and look what it did to my leg.” He thrust his injured leg forward, displaying the rags that had soaked through with blood. “And it’s been hidden here. Hidden and protected by the very people who were supposed to kill it and protect me. By those Essentiers.”
Riven’s heart thundered. Just as he’d expected, just as he’d seen it coming from a mile away, Lham was blaming him and Rose, accusing finger pointed like a deadly lance at the two of them. Damn it. Where did this idiot find the audacity to barge into a meeting like this?
Orbray’s little eyes widened, which wasn’t saying much. But it was Father who spoke this time. “Is this true?” he asked Rose.
“Well Father,” Rose said, “he’s not wrong, but the truth is a little more complex than that.”
“Explain yourself, Rose.”
“We are holding the demon in question in our custody. The unfortunate incident with the Custodian’s leg is a mixture of many people’s fault, where no one is blameless. I captured the demon because he’s still young, and has shown interesting behaviours, which I think warrants further observation before any drastic action is taken with regards to his fate.”
Riven tried not to gawk at his sister. If it had been left to him, he’d never have been this eloquent about any of it. Rose made it sound professional, the most logical course to take.
“You mean the research facility?” Father asked.
“Yes.”
“What research facility?” Orbray asked.
“The one at Lintellant, sir,” Rose replied, turning to face the High Invigilator. “In Reinnervation Demesne.”
Orbray said nothing more, but the frown on his face said enough. He wasn’t liking what he was hearing.
But Father got the last word in. “Are you sure this research path is a good idea, Rose?”
Rose sat up straighter, looking Father right in the eye. “I do. The Fiend in question had very recently transformed, and it might be worth looking into the process of transformation into a Deathless too. Plus, his mortal mother recently died as well, turning into a Spectre. However, they still retain strong feelings for each other despite their Deathlessness. Another aspect I want to delve into further.”
“Academics!” Orbray made a disgusted sound in his throat, like he was getting ready to throw up phlegm, interrupting Father before he could give Rose his permission and blessing to continue. “We don’t need scholarly articles and textbooks for students. It’s useless. What we need is to round up and make sure none of the Deathless on our side of the Frontier can pose a threat.”
“With all due respect, sir,” Rose said. “Academics are important. We might very well find a weakness in the Deathless to exploit, and then your war efforts could become a lot easier. Besides, the Deathless at the research facility will pose no threat. There are always Essentiers stationed there who can take care of things if matters get out of hand.”
“You cannot,” Lham spat, his mouth almost frothing. “It needs to be punished!”
“I agree. The Deathless must be brought to justice for the crimes perpetrated.” Orbray stared first at the Custodian, then glancing over Father to stop at Rose. “See to it that this Fiend is brought before me and have him executed. We cannot let such madness run wild, or the opportunity for him to do so.”
Rose said nothing, and neither did Father. Why would they? This was an order straight from the High Invigilator, where they had stated every logical reason on why they didn’t have to mollify some Custodian who was also very likely a cultist, and still, Orbray had decided against their reasoning. No, the damn High Invigilator only wanted to antagonize Father, which Riven could normally appreciate but not when it affected him so directly.
“You can’t,” Riven blurted out.
Orbray frowned. “I can’t?” The frown was as much annoyance at Riven’s poor choice of words as it was confusion. Of course. It wasn’t like any of them had seen him before or knew who he was. The bronze nobody pin on his shoulder wasn’t helping matters, either. “Who are you to tell me what I can’t do?”
“My apologies.” Chasm, Riven’s apology was little better than Father’s. He ameliorated his voice better. “I simply meant, sir, that there might be some missing context that could… make a different decision seem better. The demon in question is just a little boy from the orphanage called Franry, and all he wants is to get back to his mother, who has turned into a Spectre after her death. Wouldn’t it be better to reunite them and allow them to pass on in peace?”
“Pass on? You mean this ascension business? Wouldn’t that only be achievable if they were to become stronger Deathless, rising in ranks to become Cataclysms and Revenants? And wouldn’t that be only possible if they were to wreak havoc all over the Demesne?”
Riven blinked. Orbray was using logic against him, logic that made sense for Riven hadn’t thought that far ahead. What had been his plan? Franry and Arrilme couldn’t simply live out the rest of their lives in the research facility, when soon enough, they’d suffer the same calling as all Deathless did. The same need to ascend from a world that was blurry and indistinct.
No wonder Franry was on edge all the time. He was hardly seeing anything in the first place.
“I—” Riven stared at his sister, but she wouldn’t look at him. Father had never looked at him to begin with, his amber eyes fixed on Orbray through the whole meeting. “I don’t have an answer—”
“There is no answer, young Morell. You’ll learn soon enough that pity for the Deathless is a dangerous pastime.” Orbray tutted, glancing at Rose. “I expect the matter to be taken care of as soon as possible, is that understood?”
“Perfectly, High Invigilator,” Rose said.
“But—" Riven’s protest ended when Rose dug a vicious elbow into his side.
“In fact,” Rose said, rising and pulling Riven up with her. “We ought to be heading out and making sure that Fiend hasn’t cause any more chaos. Please excuse us, High Invigilator. We will do our best to be present at your speech and the feast Father has prepared in your honour.”
Orbray waved them away, inconsequential bugs that they were to his precious time. Father didn’t even so much as give them a passing glance. As Rose marched Riven out of the room, silencing any and all protests with a glare, he caught sight of the Custodian grinning and beaming as though he had won the lottery.
Riven stilled, letting himself be drawn out. No way in the Chasm was he letting Franry be killed. Didn’t matter if it was Orbray’s orders, or even a Scion’s. Riven would survive.
And so would Franry and Arrilme.