IX.
Determination
Seventh of Dectis [5], 207th Year of The Calamonian Age
There is no ruler of Calamon. That was another truth Faunia learned from Thelani. Calamon was ruled in the same way as Kylinstrom: cult anarchy, with smaller groups deciding the ebb and flow of power, and distributing it amongst themselves.
And there were the other empires to consider as well—the Three Empires from the Second Era still existed in this land, and more. And it turned out that after the separation of Kylinstrom from the mainland, they struck back at Kasian's nation, and that was what ended the Hunters' rule. With the groups unable to determine a fitting leader, they settled that nobody should lead. It was safer to live as one. To rule as one.
That was also what ended the Etherian Age. Once the separation took hold, the Empires (with the Alisan Oligarchy leading the charge) ran through and slaughtered the remaining esera-holders. They deemed them Demon Knights, unfit to live.
Faunia Vleren shook herself of the thoughts on the warm morning of Valorcall's seventh day. She had come to the Diplomats' Hall, one of many integral places where the cults could commune and advertise and welcome new members.
A place in which the architecture defied reason—the marble pillars didn't touch the ground in any place but floated some fifty paces above to make way for people underneath, skittering crowds who pulsed and danced and chattered in the golden sunlight from those giant, brilliant glass windows high at the zenith of their hundred-pace Calamoni stone walls. Figures danced even in the air and near the ceiling, some with forms like long snaking wyverns, and some humanoids with wings like birds. No dragons, however. None at all.
There were tables and booths up and down the massive hall, swarming with people from all over, in all shades of skin, and with all sorts of strange qualities to them. Scaled people, horned people like demons, people with fur and with claws and teeth like beasts…
What a strange place… It truly is fantastical...
A hulking figure bumped into her amidst the swarms of voices and people. A white-furred azar.
"Akvum!" she gasped. Her heart raced.
He shook his head. "Never heard that name. Never known. Never…" the creature mumbled and wandered away into the crowd. It wasn't long before the chatter of the hall grew and swelled again until she couldn't hear her thoughts. Another azar shouldn't have surprised her, especially not after learning of Alisa, but…
She shook her head. I don't have time to mourn. I need to find what I came here for.
Though Thelani had been exceedingly helpful and informative, a fuller picture of the new world was necessary. If they were telling mistruths in any way, even unintentionally, she had to find out. If there were any missing details, she had to know. Even something small about Etheria or The Twelve could be the deciding factor in their eventual battle.
It did not help her any that most of the signs in that hall were in Calamoni, illegible to her. The ones that were in their shared tongue, a language she learned from Rithi was called Huntish, were familiar base factions like the Adventurer's Guild, the Fighter's Guild, and the Mage's Guild. Good places for foreigners to start, in a language that had apparently infected nigh every corner of Caloria.
And as she rounded one corner, hoping that she would find more booths in a language known to her, she bumped into another person, seemingly rushing to get through.
"Oh, sorry—"
A black-haired elvish woman was in her path. She looked like she was going to cry.
"Are you okay?"
"Do you need a guild to join?" The woman's whimpered voice caught her off guard. "Are you new here? Is this your first time in Calamon?"
"I'm just passing through. Is something upsetting you? Maybe I could help you get back to your guild, if they can help...?"
"I'm with the Hunters."
Faunia tensed up. She looked down to double check that she hadn't accidentally worn her silver plate beneath her brown robes. That can't be...
"The Hunters? I thought they weren't around anymore. Why don't we go talk to them, maybe we can get you some help?"
The woman nodded and began to cry as they turned back down the corridor, down the line of booths. She led the way.
"What's your name, miss?"
"Okella of Raeal."
"I'm Faunia Vleren of... of Cromer. It's a pleasure to meet you."
If this is some kind of Etherian trap, she at least can't kill me so long as I stay inside, surrounded in the safety of the crowd...
[Don't be so sure.]
Faunia froze like ice. A new voice had intruded her mind. She couldn't see the woman's face from behind—she could no longer tell if she was still pouting or crying as she was discovered.
[Your thoughts and emotions are my plaything. You are nothing special, Faunia Vleren.]
Faunia cocked her head and scowled. She raised her voice slightly to say, "I've got no interest in joining your—"
"Don't pretend you didn't hear me." Okella's whimper had become commanding. "Feigning strength is such an ugly trait for mortals. You and that wyrmling, Tirolith? It would take me barely a feeble thought to eradicate your mind."
"Then why don't you?" Her hand wrapped around her hidden dagger.
The woman shrugged as she turned back. Her face flashed from frustration into a pout again. "I don't want it that way. It's so sad, to think of the suffering I'd cause by killing someone like that… but you know what I'm looking for. You know what I need, Faunia."
"I don't know what you mean."
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"You're lying!" The woman began to weep.
"Lands damned, you're insane."
"I know why you survived… I know what you did..."
"Your green friend didn't administer enough venom. That's all there is to it."
"Throkos doesn't make mistakes." she continued to weep through her words. "It would be so sad if he did, if he messed up and got himself into trouble… The one in trouble is Vekzul."
"Vekzul?" Faunia's eyebrows went up in surprise.
"Whatever you're plotting with him... I could put an end to it right now, if you don't tell me where Dyosius is!" Her demand was broken up by gasps as her crying became more and more hectic.
Some members of the crowd had turned to look.
"Tell me right now!" Okella screamed.
Faunia stepped closer to her and began with a whisper, "You can read my mind, can't you? Stop this nonsense! You should know that I haven't the slightest idea about where that damn thing is!"
"You're LYING! You have to be lying! There's no way you don't know where it is, Tirolith is hiding it! Tirolith is masking your thoughts, it's all because of... Because of..."
The leylines constricted. Faunia gasped and threw her hands up to shield her face.
The crowd turned away suddenly. They had lost everyone's attention.
And then Okella fell to her knees, began to weep even harder. She begged of the crowd, "Stop staring at me..."
Faunia panted with horror. It could have all ended in that one unprotected instant. She didn't know the extent of Okella's powers, but tension like that was all that one like Serkukan would need to end a fight.
Too close, she thought, before she turned and rushed away...
X
A stained brown robe stepped back out into the cramped and dark alleyway of the stonewise city—a city nearby to Calamon called Archea. He raised a broadsword that was too big, too clumsy for his dexterous hands, slid the flat of the blade along his sleeve to clean it of wet blood.
Then it went into his hip scabbard. Away and concealed beneath his robe, as close to vertical as he could manage to fit it.
"I gave that up in Cromer. Or did you forget?"
"Cedric!" called a man from down the alley, who stomped the cobbles as he marched closer and closer.
"So much for concealment." he muttered, and peeled back his hood. His chestnut hair had regrown to a plush yet not overbearing length. His beard was becoming full again.
Rithi chucked a small pouch as he drew close. Cedric caught it with a jingle, then poured the contents into his hand to count it up.
"Three hundred Cromers. You said that was the name of your home city?"
"Not my home."
"Mm. Should cover two months' living expenses, along with anything you found in there." Rithi adjusted his mask and tucked his hands into the pockets beneath his potion-filled bandolier. Though he wore leather, it was covered and hidden by black plainclothes overtop. He had no intention of appearing intimidating in any sense. Then, that was likely why he hid his crackling, sickly face as well, Cedric surmised.
Rithi soon continued, "That handles that, at least. Now Thelani can continue our relocation. I thank you for your help."
"I guess it shouldn't surprise me that Azafel's followers would order executions so eagerly. If any other contracts open up, just let me know—"
Rithi suddenly dropped to his knees and kissed the ground twice with his mask down.
Cedric kicked stones at him; "What the hells are you doing?"
"One kiss for chaos, for what Azafel sows. One kiss for Serkukan, in prayer to your blood daemon."
Cedric scowled still.
When Rithi stood, he laughed. His face was still exposed, and Cedric noted the crooked teeth hidden within that crevice of grayed skin.
"You're a man of nothing but spite and few words, eh?"
"If you say so."
"I only wanted to ask you why? You don't have anyone you open up to?"
"I live with the weight of many mistakes. I can't afford to rely on anybody's support but my own."
"We must all afford ourselves times to be weak, Cedric. Faunia Vleren is strong, but she weakens herself to us when she has doubts. She weakens herself for you."
"Her responsibility isn't as great as mine."
"Is it not? The woman who carries the weight of the world, and who would so readily die to protect those she loves? To protect everyone? It's you who carries less responsibility. What do you shelter? Who do you wish to protect?" he asked. Though his words were accusatory, they were spoken with a genuine care that Cedric hadn't yet heard from anyone.
He twitched before he turned to walk away.
"Fleeing?"
"I'm not going to open my feelings up to a stranger."
Rithi feigned an injury. "I'm hurt by your words, but not surprised. Forget not that I've seen all that lives in your mind, already."
He turned back with a glare fit for Serkukan's rage.
"It's not that I wish to intrude. Hells, I haven't the power to stop my mind from intruding. I'll agree with you that there is a lot of tragedy that lives inside you. Wouldn't you add your own words to your story?"
"I wouldn't. If you've seen my mind, you already know the story."
"Your actions today are scalding you. They don't amend what you've done. They add more weight to your sins."
Cedric lowered his head. His eyes scanned the ground in discomfort.
"The Sylvet. Cylenia—"
"Don't." he growled.
Rithi approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
Cedric did not retreat the grasp.
"Your parents…"
"Sylvet don't have parents."
"You're not Sylvet."
"It's not a title so easily dropped. They take everything. Not just my parents, my whole village…"
"Burned to the ground. By your hands."
Cedric finally pulled away. "That's all there is to it."
"You were young and powerless. The Sylvet took advantage of you. You no longer need to carry that burden."
Cedric attempted to speak, but his words caught in his throat. He kept his back to Rithi.
"Cedric. Are you crying?"
"If I freed Evra, that would never happen again." His voice was strained and forced. His hand went up to his face.
"That action bears its own insufferable weight, Cedric. There is no action without consequence."
Khk.
The sound of steel on rooftop tiles—behind them.
They turned.
A hundred paces back, atop the rooftop perpendicular to their alleyway—crouched in red sat a figure nearly identical to Serkukan, with a dark tan face exposed through the frame of his helm
He dropped from that rooftop—and he cleared their distance in a heartbeat…