Canedge, The Serpent Isles - 11th day of the Sardonyx Moon, Year 24 AH
After about an hour had passed, the wooden stairs creaked. “Finally,” Hal muttered. He’d taken to lying on the floor and now kicked himself back up to a sitting position.
Regis turned towards the staircase and nodded as Lora appeared. The woman’s jaw was clenched, her shoulders drawn in a tense line, but there was a hard set to her eyes that appeared promising. Uneasy, but determined.
“They agreed,” she said without preamble, the words rushing out all at once. She exhaled. “We’re taking Canedge back.”
Regis smiled. “That’s good to hear. Do you have a timeline in mind?”
“The sooner the better.” Lora gestured downstairs. If Regis listened closely, he could make out the muffled scraping of wood along the floor, clinking dishes, and murmuring voices. “We’re eating dinner now. I was thinking we could discuss plans afterwards.” She paused, eyes flitting over to the store’s front door. “I’ll ask someone else to take over guarding. You two should be around for this.”
Regis nodded and rose to his feet, smoothing out his pants. Hal looked happy to be up again and stretched his wings, though they were, of course, invisible to Lora. It was still rather curious to see the effects of the angel’s trait in action. It was similar to an illusion spell, but not quite the same.
The three made their way down the stairs, soon entering the main basement space. There, Regis saw that a few tables had been pushed to the center while storage boxes and crates were used as makeshift chairs and benches. Most of the villagers had already begun eating, and there was a visible energy present that hadn’t been there before. Gone was the defeated, sullen air, now replaced with a rippling torrent of emotions.
Several gazes immediately landed on the trio as they stepped down the stairs, and some of the chatters sped up. Regis pretended not to hear them, simply giving the townspeople a polite smile as Lora led him and Hal to an empty space at the end of the large table. There, two meals had already been set out, each consisting of a loaf of bread, some beans, and a small steaming bowl of what appeared to be soup.
“Please, help yourselves,” Lora said, taking a seat across from them herself. “It’s not much, but Harold made the soup fresh. No one makes a better bowl in Canedge.”
“Thank you,” Regis said. He picked up the spoon and tasted some of the liquid. It was still hot, and it had a rich, layered flavor that matched the strong aromas rising from the bowl. Beside him, Hal sighed happily.
“Now this is real food.”
“It is quite good,” the demon agreed.
“Better than the berries?” Hal looked smug. Regis raised an eyebrow.
“That doesn’t seem like a fair comparison.”
The angel rolled his eyes and hit his back good-naturedly, continuing to devour his meal, much to Regis’s amusement. Currently he was the only one of the two who needed to eat, but no one would guess such a thing from their behavior. Regis turned back to Lora.
“Do you know where Hendrick and Ryker are located?”
“Not Ryker,” Lora admitted. An emotion flitted through her eyes that the demon couldn’t discern, but it quickly vanished as she continued. “Hendrick took over the town hall. It’s right next to the guard barracks, too.”
“So they will have many resources,” Regis concluded. She nodded grimly. Lora pushed her plate to the side and pulled out a large map of Canedge. Regis recognized the bookstore he’d entered last time as well as the town square and the general store they currently sat in. The woman pointed to a spot further north.
“That’s where Hendrick’s group is,” she explained. The building was located rather centrally, Regis noted, which was logical given its function. Several different roads intersected at the area, and if the map was any indication, the surrounding blocks were rather dense with narrow buildings, though it remained to be seen how many of those buildings had survived the violence of the past week.
Regis’s eyes scanned the routes, considering the surrounding areas. He was vaguely aware of the murmurs in the room quieting, several eyes now fixed on their side of the table, but he ignored the watchful gazes.
The demon reached over and tapped the square representing the town hall. “How many entrances are there?”
Lora’s brows furrowed. “I think there’s only the main one and a back door.”
“What of the windows?”
She blinked. “Uh, there’s a lot of those, but they’re not very big.” She frowned. “Are you saying we should rush in? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“No, I agree with that assessment. The building will likely be well fortified.” He cocked his head, gaze still trained on the map. “However, if we block the back doors and force Hendrick’s group out of the building, they will all exit through the same area.” He shifted his finger over to the main doors for emphasis.
Realization dawned on the human’s face. “And if they all go out that way, we can wait for them and ambush them.” A few murmurs rose at that, some excited, some a bit more unsure. Lora’s brows furrowed as she considered the idea.
“That…might actually work,” she finally said. She sounded surprised as she said it. “But how’re we going to get them all outside?”
Regis smiled. “For that,” he began, “there are quite a few options.”
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The table was cleared of any remaining plates, its surface now covered with more maps and scrap pieces of paper that they’d begun utilizing for notes. After the basic bones of their plan had been laid out, the villagers had grown increasingly eager and active in their participation. It seemed Lora’s earlier assessment had been correct; the resentment towards Hendrick ran deep, and many were happy to give their own suggestions and ideas. It was widely agreed upon that they would take care of the man first, as he was the most pressing threat. Once they’d secured the town hall, they could deal with Ryker at their own pace.
“I’ve got a bow,” one man was saying. “It’s for hunting, but it’s in great condition.”
“That would be perfect,” Regis said. They’d reached a point in the planning where they were now determining who would participate in the ambush itself, and there were quite a few eager volunteers. Several villagers now surrounded him, offering to join the fight or to donate supplies or provide support.
As the conversations went on, Hal sat behind the demon, and Regis could practically feel the amusement radiating off the angel. He’d opted to remain quiet during the planning stages, instead watching the increasingly energetic villagers. Regis suspected he was simply happy at the prospect of a slightly larger scale fight, and the way he was currently inspecting his axe certainly seemed to validate that theory.
Aside from Hal and Lora, who was similarly swarmed, Regis kept an eye on the half-elf boy from the bookstore. He’d seen him at a different table during dinner, the boy choosing to eat in a relatively isolated area of the basement. Even now, he primarily hung around the edges of the crowd, but his gaze was often intent when he stared at the plans and maps laid out. When he wasn’t looking at the papers, however, his eyes were on Regis, every bit as uneasy as they’d been when he’d first stepped into the basement. Now, the demon thought, would be a good time to address that. He could not allow that suspicion to snowball.
“Please excuse me for a moment,” Regis said. The villager he was talking to looked a bit put out, but nodded, and he managed to slip through the crowd of people to where the boy was. His shoulders stiffened as the demon approached, but he otherwise pretended not to notice. Regis stopped in front of him.
“Hello,” he greeted. “It is good to see you again. I’m glad that you’re well.”
The boy nodded stiffly. He hadn’t imagined the suspicion, then. Regis’s eyes narrowed internally. He could feel Hal’s pale gaze on the other side of the room, the angel watching the interaction from afar, body language casual but ready to jump in upon signal.
Had the boy guessed his true identity? No, Regis reasoned. If that were the case, he would’ve warned the other villagers. Perhaps he’d seen the demon during the start of the riot through the windows. That would be enough to arouse suspicion and mistrust, but the boy would have no way of affirming that Regis had been involved. Such a thing could easily lead to his current behavior.
Regis carefully took a seat beside the half-elf. “Forgive me, I believe I never asked for your name. I’m Cyrus,” he introduced. He paused, giving time for the boy to respond.
“…Callan,” he finally said. Regis nodded.
“I’m happy that you’re alright, Callan. I was worried when I saw the state of the town.”
The boy’s eyes briefly flitted over to him, then away again. Regis continued as if he were oblivious to Callan’s suspicion.
“Did those runes work? I never did see the completed string.”
Magic, it seemed, was a strong enough interest that it managed to break through some of the shell. A spark shone in the boy’s eyes as he nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, it worked.” A bit of pride entered his voice. “I made another string after that, too.”
“That’s incredible,” Regis praised. Callan ducked his head and grunted in affirmation.
Throughout the rest of the basement, the other villagers continued to converse. Lora, it seemed, was now directly calling for volunteers with combat based abilities granted by the System and creating a list of them. Regis noted how Callan’s eyes lingered on the list.
“If you wish to join, you may,” the demon said. “Your magic would provide critical support.”
Callan finally turned to face him fully. He looked unsure. “I don’t think Lora’ll let me,” he said.
“Because of your age? You would not need to be near the fighting. I certainly wouldn’t wish you to join the frontlines.” Regis rose from his seat and nodded at the half-elf. “If you’d like, I will vouch for you.”
A bit of hope entered Callan’s gaze, though he did an impressive job of keeping it at bay. His reluctance, it seemed, was born from something a bit more complicated than Regis had initially assumed. Nonetheless, the demon turned and made his way towards Lora, and sure enough, he soon heard Callan following behind him.
“Lora, may I speak to you for a moment?”
The woman looked up from the page she was writing on. “Oh, of course!” Dark blue eyes lingered a bit longer on Callan before returning to the demon. The half-elf himself, Regis noted, looked like he was attempting to shrink in on himself as much as possible.
“I believe I have found a less destructive initial distraction.” Their original plan had been to set the town hall ablaze, but that would result in significant damage to the building itself. Lora herself had seemed rather reluctant of the idea, but agreed that it was the most certain of the available options.
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Regis gestured to Callan. “Callan here is quite talented with magic. He would be able to craft a spell to suit our purposes.”
Lora’s lips thinned. “…I wouldn’t really call him reliable,” she finally said. One of the villagers to the side snorted. The half-elf shrank even more.
Regis raised an eyebrow. Interesting. He’d expected pushback, but not of this nature. “I’ve seen his runes. A simple spell of this nature should pose no difficulty for him.”
A few more disgruntled murmurs sounded around the room, though the townspeople seemed to have the courtesy not to voice their opinions out loud. The silent judgement, however, was clearly felt by the half-elf.
Lora’s brows furrowed, hesitant. She’d seemed fairly logical to Regis thus far, and now he could see her better judgement struggling to win out over her misgivings.
“If the runes do not work,” Regis continued, “we can revert to our original plan.”
The demon could hear Callan hold his breath behind him. Lora bit her lip, eyes darting around the room, then to the half-elf. Finally, she slowly nodded.
Callan’s jaw dropped. Regis smiled. “Excellent. Now that the matter is settled, I believe a final meeting would be pertinent.”
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“That kid’s weird.”
Regis hummed, not looking up from where he sat cleaning his sword. After plans were finalized, the group had dispersed to rest for the night. Lora had insisted on giving him and Hal one of the individual rooms in the basement, which appeared to have once been a storage space that had been hastily dressed with blankets and pillows. Regis did enjoy the privacy; it allowed him and Hal to speak freely.
“Indeed.” He turned the sword over to examine the other side. “As long as he does not suspect our true identity, however, then there should be no issue.” The wariness had almost entirely disappeared after Callan had been added to the group for tomorrow. Suspicion, the demon had found, was often easily swayed by opinion. By improving the boy’s attitude towards him, he’d significantly reduced any lingering misgivings he might’ve had. People did not want to think ill of those they liked.
Hal hummed noncommittally. In the small room, he wasn’t able to stretch out his wings and had instead opted to leave them bandaged for the night. In the past, leaving them with or without bandages would have no influence on the speed of his healing, but that was less certain now.
“So? How much’re we holding back tomorrow?”
“Enough to not arouse suspicion,” was the simple answer. Regis resheathed his sword and set it aside. “Our role is to aid them in victory, but we must not seem so powerful that we are no longer approachable.” That had been a crucial mistake he’d made in the past. The same distance that created awe could just as easily breed resentment.
“Makes sense.” Hal looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could, a knock sounded on the door. Light and hesitant.
Regis exchanged looks with Hal, then rose to turn the doorknob. On the other side stood Callan, a rolled up paper in his hands. Judging from his expression, he hadn’t heard any of their conversation.
“Callan,” Regis greeted. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”
The half-elf fidgeted. “I was working on the spell,” he explained. “Uh, I was wondering if you’d look at it. To make sure it works.” He held up the paper, which Regis carefully took and unrolled. His eyes immediately took in the string of runes, but he pretended to take a little longer to scan them. There were a few extraneous sections that duplicated the effects of previous runes—a sign of the boy’s inexperience with magic—but the spell itself would do exactly as needed.
“This is wonderful work, Callan,” the demon praised. “It’s perfect.”
The half-elf puffed his chest out a little in pride, though some nervousness lingered. Regis frowned as he folded the paper up again and handed it back. “Is something wrong?”
“It’s just, I mean, why didn’t you just make the spell yourself? You didn’t really need my help.”
“Knowledge of runes does not necessarily equate to the ability to execute them,” Regis said calmly, “and you seemed like you wished to help. I saw no reason to exclude you.”
There was an unspoken question there that Callan caught, judging from the way his gaze shifted downwards towards the floor. Regis was genuinely curious to know the reason for the other villagers’ distrust. Human societies, he’d found, often had their own little rules and intricacies that he would need to learn to blend in convincingly. Lora had struck him as fairly logical, and surely knowledge of the boy’s magic abilities was known. Something significant would be necessary to cause the reaction it had.
A few more beats of silence passed. Finally, Callan’s shoulders slumped.
“…You know how I said I couldn’t use the Wild?”
Behind Regis, Hal raised an eyebrow, but the boy didn’t notice and continued.
“I, um, I thought maybe I could do something to get access. I mean, my mom was an elf mage, right? I should be able to use it.” His voice got quieter towards the end until it was nearly inaudible. Regis read between the lines.
“You contacted a fae.”
From the way Callan winced, the demon’s assumption had been correct. One of the most common ways to gain access to the Wild for non-innate users was via fae contracts. They were, however, quite dangerous, and most human mages warned against the process. A fae contract was never straightforward, and many had made deals without fully understanding the consequences, pridefully believing that they could outsmart a fae.
Regis softened his voice. “I assume things did not go to plan.”
Callan shuddered. “It—I mean—I just—” He stopped and swallowed, visibly attempting to steady himself. His voice was small when he spoke again. “I just thought, it can’t be that bad if they can’t lie.”
“The most masterful manipulators do not need lies.” Regis could tell that Hal was also thinking of Rysar—there was a reason the angel had described the fae as “not really an ally.” They’d had a mutual agreement during the war, and history had recorded her as one of his generals, but both had been aware that their alliance would only last as long as it was beneficial for their personal interests.
The situation was quickly becoming clear to him. Though Callan did not elaborate on exactly what had happened, there was enough to piece it together. The contract had clearly failed, given his inability to use the Wild, and despite his mentioning of a mother, Regis had not seen anyone resembling a parent around the boy. It seemed that the half-elf, driven by his own desire to prove himself and failing to comprehend the dangers, had contacted a fae, and his family and the rest of Canedge had borne the brunt of the consequences.
“I didn’t mean to,” Callan said again, his voice cracking a little. Regis stepped forward and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder.
“I know,” he said softly. “You are young. Mistakes are a natural part of growing; I’ve certainly made many myself. What’s important is what you do in the future.”
The half-elf rubbed his eyes. “...Thanks,” he mumbled. Slowly, he raised his head again. His eyes appeared a bit watery, but he’d done an impressive job of controlling his emotions. “You’re really nice,” he said in wonder, half to himself. “I thought—”
Regis raised an eyebrow, but Callan seemed to realize what he was saying and immediately cut himself off. He stepped back and wiped his eyes a final time, clutching the paper of runes close.
“Thank you,” he repeated, voice stronger now. Regis smiled.
“It was no trouble, Callan. Now, you should rest. Tomorrow will be a difficult day.”
The half-elf nodded, and with a final wave, he turned and disappeared down the hallway. Regis waited until the sound of his footsteps had entirely faded, then shut and locked the door again. Hal was still lounging on the bed, having watched the interaction with interest.
“Feels like Markus all over again,” he remarked. Regis hummed.
“They do feel similar, yes.”
“Well he’s got more guts, I’ll give him that.” Hal snorted. “Contracting a fae? Nah, Markus never even would’ve thought of it.” He shook his head and turned to Regis again. “Anyway, we doing watches again?”
Regis nodded. He did not think anything would happen, but there was nothing wrong with caution. “I will take first watch again,” he said.
Hal saluted lazily and flopped back down. Regis used his remaining time awake to double check that their supplies were in order.
Tomorrow, he thought, would be interesting.
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The first thing Regis saw when he opened his eyes the next morning was Hal grinning down at him.
“Happy dead day!”
The demon sat up and chuckled. “Is that what you’re calling it now?”
“Hey, that’s what it is. Not everyone gets to celebrate dying, you know.”
Regis briefly scanned the room, ascertaining that all items were where they’d left them, before he rose to prepare for the day. “I believe ‘death day’ would be more appropriate then, would it not?”
“Nope, doesn’t roll off the tongue. Sorry, that’s the rule.”
Regis smiled. “I suppose I can’t argue with that.”
Outside, he could hear footsteps and muffled chatter, the people of Canedge already awake and brimming with energy. Once they were done eating and all final preparations and checks were made, they would make their way over to the town hall and attack.
Certainly, it was an unusual way to pass the twenty year anniversary of their own defeat. The villagers themselves had likely forgotten that it was their annual festival as well, too preoccupied with current affairs. The thought was oddly amusing to him.
Happy dead day indeed, Regis thought.
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“Is everyone ready?”
Around Regis, the group of gathered villagers nodded, their faces a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. Callan stood to the side, gripping his paper of runes tightly, but he looked determined. They’d managed to collect a decent array of weapons as well as a sizable group of volunteers. He’d brought his own sword and Hal his axe, though as discussed, they would be avoiding standing out too much. From the list Lora had gathered, the highest level people in the group were level six or seven. It was a useful benchmark to know how quickly others were leveling within the System.
Regis turned to Lora. The woman masked her unease well, putting on a strong front for the people of Canedge. He nodded at her and stepped aside, silently passing the floor over. She exhaled, taking a moment to steady herself, before turning to face the group.
“I don’t have much to say,” she began, “and I never thought things would come to this. But I want to thank all of you for your courage. Hendrick has been a plague on our village for years, and once again he’s trying to become a tyrant. This won’t be an easy battle, but I feel comforted knowing I’ll have you all by my side. I wouldn’t want to be with any other group.” Her eyes gleamed. “It’s time to take back our village.”
The other townspeople cheered and clapped, their voices filling the general store. “Not too bad for a first try,” Hal muttered beside Regis, quiet enough that the others couldn’t hear. The demon smiled.
“Certainly a better speech than you could manage.”
The angel laughed. “Yeah, but that’s not hard.” Around them, the villagers began to disperse, separating into their designated groups. “Whoops, guess that’s my cue. See ya.” He gave a lazy salute, then turned and followed after the group currently leaving. Regis waved amusedly.
The plan was fairly simple. They’d divided into three smaller teams. Hal’s group would head to the town hall first, where they would deal with any guards outside the backdoor, then seal off that entrance. Once they were done, they would circle back to the front of the building.
The second group was smaller, and it would leave shortly after the first. Once they received the signal that the backdoors were sealed, Callan would perform his spell. This team was composed primarily of long-range attackers who would remain relatively hidden from the thick of the battle, and Callan himself had been instructed to retreat once he was done with the spell. The half-elf hadn’t seemed particularly happy with the idea, but had eventually agreed.
That left the third group, the largest and the one Regis and Lora were part of. They formed the main ambush.
Lora led them through winding alleyways and narrow roads, many of which were covered with debris. They moved through the ruined streets quietly, but quickly. As they approached the town hall, however, Regis noted that several more of the buildings remained standing. It seemed this was one of the few areas of Canedge that had been spared from the carnage.
The group’s steps finally slowed as the town hall came into view. It was a fairly large building, three stories high and constructed of sturdy solid stone. As Lora had mentioned, a line of small windows encircled the walls, providing a view of the buildings neighboring it.
From their current position, Regis could see a hint of the second team waiting in one of the side alleyways by a window. Judging from the amount of time that had passed, Hal’s group should be nearly finished. Lora tapped her finger restlessly against the hilt of her sword.
“…It’s been a while,” she muttered.
“Not exceptionally so. They should be done soon.”
Dark blue eyes studied him. Lora shook her head. “I don’t know how you’re so calm,” she said, half to herself. Regis hummed.
“I have some experience with these sorts of situations.”
Lora furrowed her brow, but before she could respond, a faint whistle resembling a bird chirp sounded from above. Her shoulders tensed.
“They’re ready.”
In the alleyway Regis had spotted the second group earlier, a cloaked figure he knew to be Callan scrambled forward. He was short enough to be able to duck below view of the window, and he quickly unfurled the paper of runes and slid it onto the windowsill. The demon could see his mouth moving as he rapidly muttered the chant. He then shoved the paper all the way through the crack and fled back into the alleyway, disappearing into the shadows.
No one in the group breathed. “Did it work?” someone muttered.
As if on cue, a beam of light flashed inside the building. The windows rapidly filled with smoke. This spell, unlike a true fire, would not damage the building itself, but it smelled the same as real smoke and was difficult enough to breathe that it would drive those within to seek shelter outside.
“Let’s go,” Regis said. He unsheathed his sword and ran out of the alleyway towards the front doors. The other villagers quickly followed suit until they’d formed a semicircle around the area, cutting off all possible points of escape.
The group waited, muscles tense, eyes fixed on the heavy wooden doors as they searched for a sign of movement. Inside, Regis could hear the muffled sound of yells and pounding footsteps.
Finally, the doors slammed open.
They charged.