Fenian, with too much elegance, twirled his fork in Zee pasta before slurping it down with grace. “Life is better when you have a private section at a tavern.”
Theo, Tresk, Alex, Fenian, and Salire sat in the private booth at Xam’s tavern. While the day wasn’t as busy as it had been in recent memory, the alchemist enjoyed the slow pace. The food was great, even if he declined the imported mead. While he felt no aversion to the drink, he simply enjoyed water with his meal. When something was produced as the fruit of Broken Tusk labor, it tasted sweeter than any mead could.
No progress had been made on finding the strange people lurking outside the walls. Theo received reports that Ziz’s team, working on the road, hadn’t been accosted. Patrols around the dungeon had tripled, even through the night, and the alchemist dedicated a small team of golems to roaming the area.
Fenian and Salire chatted, although Theo couldn’t tell if it was with more than friendly interest. The Elf often sought to flatter those around him, so it likely meant he was interested in her in a mercantile capacity. Perhaps she was his next project, like Azrug was. No matter his intentions, it was nice to have more company at the dinner table.
“I wanna tour the road tomorrow,” Tresk said. “Ziz made some progress. They’re well beyond the bridge.”
Theo picked at his foot, considering the importance of the road. “Maintenance on the road will be a problem. Can we incorporate it into the town, somehow?”
“I think so,” Fenian said.
But he left it at that. The Elf normally had far more to say on these matters, so it was disheartening. Running the town was hard enough without having to guess at how things worked. If they couldn’t bring elements like the road into the town, Broken Tusk would simply need to establish a permanent group that maintained buildings without seed cores. Ziz would sort that out. He had already proved himself worthy of the position. Expanded projects, such as the highway and tunnel, would fall under their umbrella. Once again, Theo thought too far ahead. It was better to focus on what was right in front of him.
“Yeah, we should see the road,” Theo said.
“Assuming it’s safe enough,” Salire said.
Fenian puffed his chest out, grinning. “It’s always safe enough with Uncle Fenian around.”
Maybe this was a chance to get that mysterious band to reveal themselves. Theo had enough tricks up his sleeve to stay safe, even if he was attacked. It would take the force of a god to stop him in his tracks. But there was something in Fenian’s eyes that revealed he knew something. A glimmer of knowledge he wasn’t sharing. It was as though the Elf was expecting something to happen without revealing what that was. The alchemist’s intuition told him it was a good thing, even if it didn’t tell him directly. So much of dealing with superior intuition was about trust. His Drogramathi cores whispered their approval. No matter what happened, it would end well.
The conversation around the table didn’t stray far from Broken Tusk’s situation. Fenian was confident they’d have boats soon, and promised to put them in contact with traders from far-off lands. Theo’s disappointment rested with Khahar’s departure. While it was nice to see an old friend, he left nothing to give them a head-start on trading with the Khahari. When they came to collect their leader, they left no instructions on initiating trade. Perhaps that was Yuri’s way of keeping his promise to not cheat, but it stung more than he expected.
“There aren’t trade routes from here to the Khahari Desert,” Fenian said. “We’ll need to map those out ourselves.”
“Khahar said trade ships would arrive. Although, I don’t know how long that will take,” Theo said.
“Or how many of them will be left,” Fenian said. “Why don’t you make the journey to the holy desert? Scared of sailing?”
“If the monsters on land are anything to go by, the ones in the sea would be worse.” Theo drummed his fingers on the table. He might have been afraid of the monsters at sea, but the killer would be boredom on the open ocean. Weeks or months confined in a ship’s cabin. It didn’t appeal to him.
“It’s been an age since I sailed,” Fenian said. “When I first arrived on the continent.”
“Yeah, screw that,” Tresk said.
Fenian paused his elegant consumption of the noodles. “Don’t you have an affinity for the water? As a Bantari?”
“Maybe fresh water. Shallow pools,” Tresk said, leaking back with a contented sigh.
“So what happens after Khahar ascends?” Theo asked. It was nice to have a calm evening, but those questions lingered like smoldering coals in his mind.
“Chaos in the heavens. They don’t want him to ascend, you know. Most of them, anyway,” Fenian said. “I have theories, but nothing more. The process of becoming a god isn’t documented.”
Theo picked at his food, pushing the noodles around and slurping up the strays when he wanted. There was a lot to consider with Khahar’s ascension. Followers of other gods might come to cause trouble in Broken Tusk, but there’s no way the leader could have stayed here forever. The road ahead was uncertain, but that was nothing new. A wave of calm flowed from both Alex and Tresk, the Marshling’s confidence overwhelming. Whatever happened, they’d sort it out.
Their conversation diminished again, shifting to smaller topics. Fenian was evasive about his current trade deals, and Theo let him have that. When the Elf departed, he’d take with him either Alise or Gwyn to form a contract in Gronro. That led to talks about wider trade, something Broken Tusk needed desperately.
“How about a bath?” Theo asked, finally having his fill of the food. He left his plate mostly full, a knot in his stomach. Tresk didn’t seem to notice.
“What danger?” Tresk asked, jumping into the hot pool and swimming around.
The group had moved from the tavern, finding Theo’s private room at the bathhouse and settling in. The alchemist set the enchanted Khahari box near the pool’s edge, studying the many strange symbols on the surface.
“On the road,” Theo responded idly. “When we go to inspect it.”
“Oh, just bring your army,” Fenian said, settling into the bath. The water came up to his shoulders and he let out a contented sigh. “Should be good enough to deal with some bandits.”
“Also we have you,” Tresk said, splashing water on the Elf. He didn’t flinch. “To swoop in and save us.”
“It won’t always be that way.”
Theo was half-listening, focused on the box. What would Yuri leave him that would make a difference? Why did it have to be sealed away? There were too many questions to face, and the bath was far too comfortable. But Fenian took notice, edging over to stare at the engraved container.
Fenian cocked his head, poking the box before shrugging. “Did he say what was inside?”
“Nope. Just said I’d need it,” Theo said.
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“Bet it’s useful,” Tresk said. “He took that spiritstone coin away. The one I stole.”
“Allow me to tell you a tale of my people,” Fenian said, cracking his knuckles. “The common belief is that the Elves have been in Tarantham since the dawn of the world. Endless creatures of wonder and might. But that is not the case. Like many things in this world, we were sucked into that cycle of destruction and rebirth.”
“Why does that happen?” Theo said, cutting the Elf off before he could continue. “How does it happen? The system seems more like a well-tuned program than a natural law.”
Fenian failed to hide the smile on his face, although he tried. “Because the bastard gods were meant to stay where they are. This is my theory, of course… But they bent the rules. You only need to look at Balkor entering our realm to see that as true.”
“Bah,” Tresk grunted, splashing around with Alex. “How can you know?”
Fenian shrugged. “Back to my story. Destruction and rebirth. Gods and cores. Levels and plateaus. We experienced rapid expansion in my house. More than the empire would suffer, so we were destroyed. You two are leveling faster than anyone I’ve seen before—thanks to ideal conditions—and it makes me wonder about you. If you’ll fall into that cycle. Wouldn’t it be nice if that cycle was gone? Forever?”
Theo looked to the wooden rafters above. The world was ruled by the system, and those rules determined the cycles. It might have been unintentional, but that’s the way it went. The alchemist had covered level 1 to almost 20 in around 70 days. But that wasn’t exactly true. He thought back to when he started using the Dreamwalk and the sudden boost to experience it gave him. He doubled his daily experience gains, adding to the confusion of his progress. It was confoundingly quick.
“But how would you stop the cycles?” Theo asked.
Fenian shrugged the question away. “Excellent question.”
Theo filed those statements away in his mind. There was a special box labeled ‘weird stuff Fenian said’ somewhere in his consciousness. The Elf wasn’t prone to philosophical ramblings, but it got him thinking. If the cycle destroyed Qavell, they were better off for it. Assuming they could find a [Kingdom Core]. That made Broken Tusk guilty of enjoying the fruits of the cycle, whatever the cost. Once again, more questions than answers. He settled into the water and let out a contented sigh. What concerns he had he could share within the Dreamwalk.
It was just after dusk when the group departed the bath. Fenian stayed at the tavern, leaving the trio to wander under the moonless sky for a short time. But each member of the Tara’hek desired the same thing. That comforting sensation washed over them the moment they hopped in bed, vision swirling to deposit them in the harbor.
“Weird talk from Fenian,” Tresk grunted, scooping up Alex and depositing her into the safe harbor. “What was his story about? Something about the Southblades?”
“He meant we can’t avoid the cycles. Trying to prime us for when Qavell falls,” Theo said. “That’s my guess. He’s high enough in level so I can’t use my intuition to its fullest.”
Tresk grunted her response. Theo could feel her ambivalence to the topic, but that was typical. She had the right idea, though. Fenian handed out exactly as much information as he wanted, never giving more than he needed. That often left the alchemist grasping at unseen futures, twisting himself into knots when he didn’t need the added stress. With a thought he summoned his regular fare. Distillation stills and plant beds, ready to help him climb toward level 20.
“What’s that?” Theo asked, pointing to the short rapier in Tresk’s hand. It was only half the length longer than her normal daggers, but thin-bladed with a basket guard.
“Gotta make papa Parantheir happy. Right?” Tresk asked. “There’s a skill I’m interested in with the [Parantheir Duelist’s Core].”
“What is it?”
“Fenian explained it to me. Something about isolating a target. Synergizes with my other cores.”
Theo nodded, watching her scamper off into the distance. Alex let out an excited chirping noise, diving into the safe waters of the harbor. His concern was still on her common [Tracker’s Core], something she didn’t seem willing to part ways with. [Track Monster] worked with [Marked For Death] directly, allowing her to deal twice the normal damage on her first attack out of stealth on marked targets. Combined with her [Tracker’s Core’s] [Lingering Poison], it made for a brutal build focused on quick strikes and the attrition of potions.
“But that’s the flaw, Alex,” Theo sighed, tending to his stills. “Both of us are useless after the first bout.”
She chirped in response.
The night went by the way it normally did. Theo busied himself with sifting through Xol’sa’s research as he tended both the stills and his gardens. Tresk summoned various monsters to test her techniques and was oddly measured about it. Normally she’d summon a dragon first, then work her way down until she wasn’t dying immediately. She learned a lot on how to use the rapier, but didn’t seem convinced it was the best fit. But that was the weapon of Parantheir. Or so she claimed.
The next morning came, and it seemed more peaceful than most in recent memory. The group made their way to Xam’s tavern, finding their private booth and settling in for tea and leftovers. Excitement welled in all members of the Tara’hek. They’d purposefully kept away from the road, giving Ziz time to extend it over the river, then to the north. With the team working for days without harassment from either monsters or the bandits, it seemed safe enough. Regular patrols from the adventurer’s guild didn’t hurt matters.
Theo felt energized after his moss tea. He spotted Ziz and his workers heading out for the day, crossing down the north-south road by the tavern and heading east. The alchemist ran up beside them, nudging the stoneworker.
“We’ve come to inspect your work,” Theo said, grinning.
“Hah! Well, prepare to be impressed,” Ziz said, rubbing his calloused hands together. “We’ve got the technique down well enough. Thought we’d burn through what few [Tunneling Potions] we had, but the trenches we need are so shallow they last a while.”
“Good to hear,” Theo said, gesturing for the stoneworker to lead the way.
Miana waved as the group passed. She was tending to her animals, letting them out in the massive pasture to clean out the stables. Theo hoped her core building had something to help her with that. Although, now that he thought of it the droppings might have alchemical uses. He shook the thought from his mind, focusing on the literal road ahead. It stretched from the eastern gate, heading east towards the new stone bridge over the river. To the south was the harbor’s wall, and the portcullises situated over the rushing river.
“So, you might know, but we have a solid technique,” Ziz said, stomping his foot on the white stone road as he went. It seemed firm, and wide enough for two carts to travel side-by-side. “We dig a trench, put fat gravel at the bottom, thinner at the top, then leveling sand if we need it. The new guys mostly need the sand, those with a few levels in our cores can handle it fine.”
“It’s quite sturdy,” Theo said, stepping onto the bridge. “So is this.”
The bridge was an all-stone construction, arching to span the river without support on the bottom. Another quirk of the free-standing things made by the stoneworkers. The road turned after the crossed the river, heading north and tracking a path along the water. It was a healthy distance away, and Ziz went into detail about how important the gravel was for drainage. The leader of the stoneworkers was excited to talk about his work, but so were his companions. The group had grown, but only the original team was walking the road this morning.
Theo looked to either side of the road, spotting the mountains north of Broken Tusk to his left, and more mountains in the distance on his right. It seemed safe enough, but he drank a [Potion of Limited Foresight] anyway. It was habitual by this point.
“So, I’m guessing you have an inventory now,” Theo said, gesturing to the group.
Ziz laughed. “Yeah, we’re not interested in hauling stone this far out. One of the boys took a [Trader’s Core] just for the inventory.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine living without it,” Theo said.
Tresk paused on the road, cradling Alex in her arms. She cocked her head to the side, knit her brow, then let out a breath. “Ah, shit.”
It happened faster than Theo could respond. With a river to their left, clear fields to the right, this seemed like a place immune to ambushes. When 5 red-skinned, horned figures emerged from nowhere ahead, his blood ran cold. One Zagmon Dronon in the rear raised a staff high, filling the air with a keening that blasted out like an explosion. Red, thorny vines burst from the ground and seized Tresk, binding her where she stood. Ziz and his men had their makeshift weapons out, but another Dronon had already sprinted toward the group. Toward his target.
Theo.
Deft strikes that depleted the potion. Faster than anyone he’d seen before. But Theo had already withdrawn his improvised explosive, although he was fearful of the results. Using it so close to his companions would cause one thing. But it didn’t matter. The leather-clad Dronon was quicker than him, crouching and pivoting to place the sole of his boot on the potion. He kicked it away with enough force to send it sailing far into the distance.
Tresk shouted. Ziz’s men did a hopeless battle with the other Zagmon Dronon. And Theo struggled for his life.
But the assassin was toying with him. Theo withdrew a [Freezebomb], only to have it slapped away. Then a [Retreat Potion], finding a similar effect. The alchemist’s face twisted into a grimace. There was only one thing he could think of to escape. Something to buy even a moment of time. He focused on his [Dreampassage] skill.
Even as a dagger sliced through the front of his silken robe. Ripped through his undershirt. Pierced his skin and parted bones searching for his heart. A shout of pain rippled across the scene. Theo shared a look with Tresk before…
Theo Spencer vanished from the mortal realm.