It was a cool morning when they set off, rather than a cold night. The delay came from the newly acquired King Galukar and his tedious aversion to all things Fleshcrafting.

Silenos had spent the night resting in his room, as had they all. Given, however, that he had long since transcended the mortal requirement of actually sleeping, his own methods of rest were rather more productive.

His flying machine was a primitive thing, and not truly his own design, but there were already several areas in which it could be improved without its complexity becoming impractical. Silenos saw to these quickly. More secure harnesses to hold its riders, a propeller powered by a ring of coordinated muscular convulsions built at its back, wide wings to stabilise it for slightly sharper turns. By the time he was finished, Silenos was not entirely convinced the vehicle would not be outrunning any living land creature.

That it was the fastest transportation that existed in Abaritan was no reason for Galukar to accept it readily, however, and it was only after over an hour of cajoling that the King agreed to travel by the “filthy” magic. Which more or less sealed their choice on bypassing the fourth hero entirely. Silenos wasn’t certain how the Necromancer was travelling, but he could think of a hundred ways someone of her abilities could cross the continent with otherwise impossible speed. Which meant she could probably think of at least three.

“If we’re skipping the thief, then Oltick will be our next goal.” Galukar noted, confidently. “A real warrior, him, probably better to prioritise his help over some damned sky raider anyway.”

Silenos was not entirely certain the man had buried whatever trauma kept him from wielding his sword at first, and it was replies like that that kept him guessing. They seemed, to him, an unnatural answer born from the desire for a veneer of strength rather than its true presence. He resigned to watch the warlord carefully as they travelled.

Wind currents posed an interesting factor in their journey, and Silenos found himself modifying the vehicle as they flew to avoid being thrown off-course. Falls, now risen and recovered from his injuries, once again provided the magical propulsion to their journey, yielding a far greater speed now that the vehicle had been constructed to more efficiently catch his conjured winds. They made great progress in crossing the landscape, coming to descend upon their new destination within only a few days.

They came down together a good horizon away from their destination, all aware that riding in on a Fleshcrafted construct was a poor way to start negotiations with a man known for chivalrous piety.

Around them the land was rather more rocky than when they’d set off, full of boulders, cliff faces, sheets of gravel or slate. It seemed one could not walk a dozen metres without coming onto another stone protrusion, none of which seemed entirely natural.

“Never seen Helgra’s grasp?” Galukar asked, apparently taking note of Silenos’ interest.

“I am a magic caster from another world, dragged between the fabric separating dimensions through the use of magic so mighty and potent that men with twice your intelligence and ten times your mental sturdiness have gone mad attempting to comprehend but a single fraction of it.” Silenos replied. “No, I have not seen the part of your countryside with slightly interesting rock formations.”

The King looked somewhat put out, at that, eyes narrowing a shade.

“Well forgive me for assuming the great and mighty magus had some passing knowledge of the place he got himself stuck in.” He started walking without another word, leaving Silenos to eye the back of his head and ponder how difficult it would truly be to kill the giant brute when his usefulness finally expired.

Not as easy as might have been hoped. Silenos resolved to have at least a few grotesqueries with him to be completely sure of an effortless victory.

They made good time on their walk, three of them with the superhuman speed made possible by innate magic and Fleshcrafted anatomy, Falls by simply assisting himself in the journey with levitating winds. By the time the castle came to within sight, conversation had already moved onto its owner.

Neither Silenos nor Galukar were expecting much to come from the meeting with him.

“Sir Oltick was given his position guarding Castle Edmari years ago, and he’s kept to it without failure.” The King noted, with a touch of pride to him. “He’s a man of steel and duty, not one to turn away from a task. Not even for a quest as important as ours. Arbite born, you know. As anyone could tell by his valour and chivalry.”

Silenos had gathered that it was surprisingly common for those of magic to be exchanged between nations of the new world, even outside of the magi who so often served kings as scholars and creators. Arbite in particular was famous for its exports of trained, magically-gifted Knights, gaining wealth and prestige by having them claim patches of land in neighbouring kingdoms to defend them on behalf of the nation with which they were transacting.

“I’ve heard of Oltick.” Ensharia added. “Is it true he bested five hundred orc berserkers single-handedly?”

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“It is.” Galukar grinned, proudly. “I dispatched him to do so myself actually, it was a few years ago, now, maybe…God, ten in fact. He’d still been Arbitan at the time and it was at the Battle of Grimskull Cove.”

Silenos had read something of that occasion. It had been an attempted invasion from the orcs spurred on by a perceived weakness in nearby human military presence, inspired, of course, by the Dark Lord’s warpath elsewhere.

Five hundred men being killed by one was not unheard of in this land, the magic that infused muscle and bone made that much easy to see. It was, however, impressive. Orcs were a great deal larger and stronger than most humans, and mildly magical themselves.

“And you say this man is unflinching in his duty?”

Galukar eyed Silenos as if the very question were somehow an affront to Oltick.

“More so than any I’ve met before.”

More so than the Hand, then, at least. Silenos did not say it outloud. Nor did he voice the rest of his rapidly congealing thoughts.

It was not noble to stick so unerringly to an order, regardless of circumstance. If a Shaiagrazni retainer behaved in such ways Silenos would have Fleshcrafted them into a sentient piece of furniture.

The place called Helgra’s grasp seemed to be grasped ever more as they continued, stony protrusions growing more common with every step closer they drew. Their destination was in sight soon, but viewed only through the gaps between natural monoliths and rocky spears.

Ensharia gasped, Falls frowned, Galukar gawped and Silenos hummed as recognition ran through him. Castle Edmari was not a match for the architecture he’d seen elsewhere in the new world, and he’d have recognised its millennia-spanning age at a glance even without being told of it beforehand.

“This area.” He began. “It used to be hotter, drier, yes?”

All eyes turned to him, some confused, others impressed.

“Yes.” Falls frowned. “How did you…Know?”

Silenos studied the castle. It was an angular thing of boxed proportions, several cuboidal structures linked together by walls, all built both into and around a large outcropping of stone. The structure was a bunker as much as it was a construction, the sure sign of a people whose masonry and architecture had not yet advanced enough to transcend the whims of terrain. Those parts of it that were erected entirely of stone built around the hill, he could see, were considerably younger than the rest.

“Because this architecture is very similar to a kind once used by my own people.” He explained. “I am not a historian, but all of House Shaiagrazni received some knowledge of the finer points regarding dating and historical engineering. It is not hard to extrapolate a climate from the techniques and priorities apparent in this structure.”

Oddly, none of Silenos’ company looked any less impressed. Which was entirely appropriate. He’d have expected savages such as them to have less appreciation for inductive reasoning that they did impossible prescience, but a pleasant surprise was no less enjoyable than a pleasant prediction.

“Did your people use similar magic?” Falls asked, instantaneously. “Edmari Castle can fly, but no-one knows how it does or how to replicate it in other buildings.”

Silenos had heard as much. It was, apparently, part of some international agreement that only one man may guard the castle at any given time, for fear of its secrets being studied, unlocked and replicated enough to forever enhance the art of war. He examined the structure again, this time looking at the arcane rather than the physical.

He was not beyond surprise, not even Shaiagrazni centuries past his age could claim that much, but after a hundred and fifty years he had found true, soul-shaking shock to be a rarity. The moment Silenos took in the magic of Castle Edmari, he found himself treated to the scarce delicacy it had become.

Whatever people had crafted the magic of the place, they’d done so with a knowledge of supernaturalism that far exceeded their mastery over the mundane stone and rocks of their world. Silenos found a bonfire of power billowing skyward before him, great enough that its volume far exceeded that of the castle itself, dense enough that even in spite of the sheer scale he found it clearly visible in his sight.

Silenos made a note to study the place more later on, as every new moment of examination yielded yet another fascination.

“We did not.” He said, not even bothering to hide his excitement. This was new, foreign, novel. Yet there was a logic to it. He could clearly see the workings of genius in how magic was inlaid and ordered about the place, and knew that it would have been explicable to a mind only half his equal. It was power shaped by science, not instinct. And science was the domain of House Shaiagrazni.

Despite the joy of his new discovery, Silenos soon found himself forced back into the focus of an imminent mission. They reached the gates, allowing themselves inside as Galukar singularly forced the great doors apart, and entered to find an interior kept lit by well-maintained torches, but eerily absent of human habitation.

“Oltick was always stationed alone.” Galukar observed. “Looks like that hasn’t changed. Looks like…Like nobody else has been here, that’s promising.”

“Promising appearances are a crucial component to any good trap.” Silenos observed, noting that Ensharia was nodding along with him.

“We’re dealing with a Necromancer.” She breathed. “Directly, now. And one who overcame-” her eyes flickered to Silenos, but she found no irritation or pricked ego in him. “-Who overcame the Saviour.”

It was a fair thing to bring up, true and accurate. An enemy who could defeat him through ambush, and almost do so again on another occasion, was not to be taken lightly.

“We’re dealing with a Necromancer who’ll be heading here quickly if she’s not arrived already.” Falls noted, his recently off-kilter tone returned to some semblance of normalcy as he applied his mind to the purely logical problem it now faced. “We need to split up.”

“Into pairs.” Ensharia suggested. “That way we won’t be entirely vulnerable if this actually is a trap, and, if anything, one group can help free the other should they trip it.”

“That is logical.” Silenos noted, before the apeman Galukar could add his own input and poison the conversation. “Time is of the essence, as Falls said, let us move.” He started walking as he spoke, and had already cleared five paces before the conversation’s end had fully settled into those taking part. As he’d hoped, the speed with which he’d moved put a premature end to any continuation.

He resisted the urge to turn even when he heard the footsteps of someone joining him, keeping his eyes forward and holding his silence until he’d turned a corner and was certain that the suggestions had been properly accepted. Then, at last, glanced around to find the face of Arion Falls peering back.

“Something told me you’d be better than Galukar, even in tight conditions like this.” The magus shrugged. Silenos turned back away from him.

He was not exactly wrong.