Arakiel remained skeptical right until the end, but Duke Madut and his people did open the city gates and then proceeded to gradually withdraw while the Smokeless Host moved in piece by piece, much to the surprise of basically everyone, be they Middle or Holy Transcended’s chosen.
Many citizens of Maduts’ Crossing loudly and openly called the withdrawal of their duke and his forces madness, even a dereliction of duty. Others waited with bated breath, choosing to observe the proceedings from behind curtained windows or high balconies. Several families of presumably less wealthy status even joined the defenders’ exodus, just hastily grabbing whatever their hands and backpacks could carry.
His own advising staff shared most of the emotions that Arakiel held, with skepticism and surprise being the foremost ones. Even Basam, who had been more than eager to shed Middle blood today, was so overwhelmed by the fact that their enemy just handed over their well-fortified position for very little gain that he ended up going along without major complaints.
But when most of the Smokeless Host’s soldiers began to move into the town of Maduts’ Crossing which must’ve housed at least two to three thousand people, none could deny the reality of the events that transpired right before their very eyes.
The nobles and some of their sycophants moved out while the southern warriors moved in without a drop of blood being spilled.
Maduts’ Crossing was a rather typical albeit wealthy Middle town from the inside as well, with the houses getting progressively more luxurious the further one went towards the center. When little cottages just below the walls had thatched roofs and simple wooden boards for walls, the multi-leveled estates of the burghers had been built in colorful timber-framed facades that showed little, playful bays, eye-catching balconies and the like while their tilted roofs were tiled with little plates that reminded Arakiel of a beaver tail.
The burghers of Maduts’ Crossing boasted higher-quality houses than the nobles of Scitathswood and this city’s nobles topped it with large, highly-decorative mansions that could undoubtedly house 50 or more inhabitants based on size alone, never mind all the work that must’ve gotten into the highly decorated and flourished facades. They didn’t live in a sequestered district like most other settlements, but had their houses interspersed throughout the town some even being right next to simple cottages.
Unlike every other ducal capital that Arakiel’s party had visited thus far, the settlement had no keep and the duke’s abode ended up being just another manor that might’ve belonged to one of the other nobles.
Arakiel had given the order that no noble building be investigated for the time being as all forces should focus on proclaiming and then enforcing a curfew for those Middles who were curious enough to come out and watch the proceedings from the sidelines.
The entire deal took more than half the day to play out as both sides acted with extreme caution, but there were no incidents even if Arakiel could tell that some of his men thirsted for more combat after the previous engagements against the partisans. But, discipline was held. The captains and commanders did admirable work in seeing things through without major friction.
By the time the sun set, nearly all of the defending Middles had left Maduts’ Crossing while about two-thirds of the Smokeless Host had moved in, the last group protecting the retinue and the army’s supply storage.
His men would need to fight these people at some point in the near future, but they’d do so on a much more favoring terrain. All in all, there had been about two-hundred defenders that his men had categorized as potential combatants and while all of them had left with their most valuable equipment, he still considered the deal a win.
Duke Madut would have an army of about 400 people now, but only half of them had gear while the others were wounded, fatigued and in some cases even injured. Furthermore, the duke’s army was cut off from any immediate supplies given the season. And if Madut wasn’t quick enough, the Smokeless Host would hunt his provisional army down for the agreement hadn’t specified a truce.
Fearing a trap, Arakiel wouldn’t immediately attack the Middles outside the city. He intended to use one or two days to secure Maduts’ Crossing and ensure that any magic left behind ran out of steam.
Some of his advisors disagreed, but he demanded caution over gain for now since he still didn’t quite understand the duke’s motivation in just giving up this well-fortified city.
Had the threat of torture really worked this well? He found it hard to believe, but he also lacked the attachment that a ruler might have to his subjects.
Arakiel still felt quite elated about the whole affair as he grabbed the last remaining prisoner, the older of the duke’s sons in order to deliver him and fulfill the penultimate part of his agreement.
The temperatures dropped notably with the sun’s disappearance, but it wasn’t freezing just yet. Grey-white clouds gathered and before long, new snow would fall for sure.
Not yet, however.
Aurora accompanied Arakiel, having followed the event with her usual fixation on him. Occasionally, little words of praise and support, but that was about it.
Ezekiel on the other hand had offered high words of praise for Arakiel’s deal. For this last exchange, he intended to remain in the back alongside Selene, ready to assist him if the duke suddenly decided to pull some shenanigans – or if his wife got her way.
Mellia had yet to comment on the whole affair, but she had woven him a crosspath enchantment just in case. She appeared happy with the current outcome but he couldn’t say for certain.
Duke Madut and his consort waited in some distance, with the woman carrying a raw lighting crystal of orange that was barely strong enough to illuminate the two of them. Most of the defenders in the back had to resort to lanterns and torches although there were a few more orange crystals. They had a specific name – something with lumi-this or lumen-that, but he had always just called them light crystals.
Aurora had gifted Arakiel a small floating orb of golden light which he still couldn’t create on his own, funnily enough.
The Mortal Ascendant and his seraphim stopped at around ten meters distance, at which point Arakiel offered the duke a slight smile while he gently pushed his prisoner towards his parents.
“It was a pleasure working with you, Duke Madut,” Arakiel said, genuine respect resonating in his voice. He meant it.
The duchess received her son and immediately worked to undo the bindings while the blonde broad-shouldered man stepped forth, his face partially hidden in the shadows of his wife’s crystal. Nonetheless, Arakiel gleamed the trace of a smile on his lips.
“Likewise, Lord of the Desert Rats,” The duke returned in a calm, collected voice. “I am surprised how well you’ve tamed these wild rodents. All this bloodlust and still they don’t lunge forth to bite one’s ankle.”
Arakiel put on a mild smile at the comment. “I’d try to convince you but you’ve already made up your mind, so instead allow me to move over to the last issue of our dealings without further ado.”
The blonde Middle nodded, seemingly having expected something along those lines. “Right, the communion. I have several Thaumaturges in waiting – if you’ll allow me to call them over.”
“We’re doing it right now?” Arakiel asked with some surprise. He nonetheless affirmed right away. “Sure – but allow me to remind you that my elite forces are in range and if you try to pull any shenanigans whatsoever, my forces will crush yours.”
This time, the duke smiled while his wife and son embraced one other, whispering quiet words of comfort. The young man cried. Arakiel paid them no mind.
“I am a man of honor, Arakiel il Kalanaar, Executor Djinni of Sultan Zimraan. And you, unlike the sunburnt sandeaters, have honor. I don’t mind dealing with such people.”
“Very well, then let’s do it.”
The man clapped his hands once. “Excellent. Queen Fodhla has agreed to this communion – you will be talking in your mind.”
Arakiel raised an eyebrow. An actual telepathic communion? As far as he was aware, it was a very costly endeavor. “Oh? I thought we’re just sending messages,” he ended up remarking.
“Oh no, her majesty is very interested in you and your little group of foreign visitors.” Duke Madut pointed out while he raised his hand.
“Dear, you should leave now,” he then said towards his wife, who handed him the crystal. Then, she turned towards Arakiel, her gaze a little softer than it used to be.
“For staying true to your word, you have my gratitude… Lord Arakiel of the Rats.”
“I keep collecting titles,” Arakiel mused and chuckled. “Can’t say I like most of them.”
“Titles are smoke and mirrors, my Lord.” Aurora reminded softly, adding. “Unworthy of your attention.”
“I disagree. Titles carry power, my Lady.” The duke objected as his wife and son left for good. “Do not be so easy to dismiss them.”
“I am well aware,” Aurora returned with a broad smile. “Yet all the titles the denizens of this plane attribute to my Lord are truly unworthy of his attention.”
“Is that so?” The duke asked to affirm and when she nodded, he chuckled too. “Most curious. I’m sure you’ll find Queen Fodhla to be an enticing interlocutor.”
Arakiel had never heard that term, but he smiled over it, saying. “Maybe, maybe not – we’ll see.”
A pair of four nobles carrying wooden staves with silver ends approached from the back on the duke’s signal, their countenances mostly hidden underneath monochrome-colored hoods. Only a tall, lanky man with short curly dark hair and an unusually wide mouth and thin lips had pulled his hood down. He introduced himself as Court Thaumaturge Duirmhuid and Arakiel found his voice to be far too sonorous given his odd appearance. The astral mage then asked whether Arakiel was fine with them using auxiliaries to allow the ritual in the field.
Arakiel gave his consent at which point the court Thaumaturge protruded a large collection of marbles lined on a long string while some of his assistants used their staves to form a symbol of four overlapping squares in the nearby virgin snow. They then formed a circle by connecting the corners.
Duirmhuid put the marbles on the string in the outermost circle with the help of his assistants and once they were done, the Astral Thaumaturges put one of their staves onto one of the quadrangles.
He then requested that Aurora and Arakiel step into the circle’s middle while each mage pulled out two silver-white shards. It shocked Arakiel, not because he expected them to attack him with this many shards, but because they intended to use eight astral shards for one such ritual.
Nonetheless, he and Aurora complied, taking care not to disturb the formation.
One of the shards in each mage’s started to glow as they began to hum a low incantation or song that lacked any words, but all four mages acted in resonance which was most likely the reason. Joint rituals remanded near-perfect synchronicity as far as he was aware.
The shard’s silver-whitish light then traveled across their body over towards their staves, where it then headed down towards the ground. The wooden staves’ lower silver tip glowed only briefly as the light immediately began to travel across the pre-drawn lines of the squares.
Once the squares were aglow in astral energy, the mages began to tap the second shard’s dormant energy which charged the marbles that formed the circle with an equally silver light.
The magical energies moved about in absolute silence.
Arakiel and Aurora both followed the ritual with vested interest, for he had never witnessed a communion before, having had no need of it. Telepathic communions couldn’t pierce Limbus so they were incredibly rare on Kalanaar or any of the other planes that he had visited as a Traveler.
“Please take each other’s hand, close your eyes and empty your mind. In just a moment, you will have the honor of speaking with her Majesty Queen Fodhla.” The Thaumaturge announced and after a brief glance at once another, Arakiel and Aurora each closed their eyes.
The rather pleasant voice began an actual incantation after Arakiel closed his eyes and as soon as the mage finished, he noticed a brief but intense white-silver flash and then his senses ceased to be.
No more noise, no more smells – it was all gone except for his mind that seemed to float in a sort of endless, indescribable void bereft of colors.
And then, he heard a voice speaking directly into his mind, one he immediately attributed to Aurora. Although speaking might be the wrong term. It felt more like someone else’s thoughts formed in his own mind.
Perhaps it would be more correct to say that Aurora thought in his mind with her voice.
“My beloved Lord Arakiel, are you there.” Aurora asked, queried, thought.
“I am, can you hear me.” He returned calmly without a voice.
“I can. Good.” His seraphim responded likewise. “So what now?”
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“We wait.”
Some – or perhaps none at all – time later, a new voice thought up, addressing him directly in his mind. It was soft-spoken, melodious and rivaled Aurora’s in the way it would pleasure his ears were they capable of receiving it. “We welcome you into our domain, visitors from afar.”
“Queen Fodhla, I presume.” Arakiel thought back.
“Indeed. You may address us as ‘your highness’, visitors from afar. How should we call you.” The disembodied voice asked in a thoroughly neutral tone.
“I am Aurora li Arakiel,” Aurora responded in thought and Arakiel assumed that the three of them kind of shared their spoken thoughts at the moment. As far as he was aware, that was now telepathy worked, so anyone inside the link could hear everyone, almost like they were in an isolated room without their bodies.
“And I am Arakiel il Kalanaar, Executor Djinni of Sultan Zimraan.” He added, realizing that it was impossible to display any kind of emotions. The voices were different for the queen and Aurora, but they were perfectly leveled and calm, just like his voice most likely sounded to them.
“We wonder why you would dress yourself in a lowly akh’s honorifics,” the queen stated, asked. “We presumed a planeswalker would have more pride and dignity than this.”
“You seem quite versed on this topic.” Arakiel returned and tried to not ponder the subject too much. He doubted that the queen of the Middle Kingdom could peek into his thoughts as he couldn’t gaze into hers or Auroras, but he’d rather not take any chances unless absolutely necessary.
“A moment,” Queen Fodhla returned and then spoke up once more. “First of all, we greet you, Aurora li Arakiel and Arakiel il Kalanaar. We are pleased to finally speak with you.”
“Finally,” Arakiel thought, quoted, concluded. “You sought to contact us.”
“We were made aware of your presence, planeswalkers. As to how we are informed on this topic, it is quite simple. We used to walk the planes as well.” Queen Fodhla answered and he wasn’t sure whether she just liked to refer to herself in plural or whether she spoke of more than one person.
Perhaps both.
As to what she claimed, he had guessed, perhaps even surmised something along the lines.
“Then allow me to offer you a customary greeting. Fear the void.” Arakiel greeted the other planeswalker once more. It was a small test in addition to common courtesy.
“May His light deliver us,” Queen Fodhla returned right away, passing it.“But enough of the formalities. You are here to conquer what is ours, little planeswalkers. We are not happy with that.”
“Then let me inquire about your backing, your Highness. If it is sufficient, I shall consider departing without further anon.” Arakiel offered even if he had no intention of doing so right away.
“Our… backing. We doubt you’d have heard of that plane.”
“Try us.” Arakiel challenged.
“We will not tell. It matters not.” Queen Fodhla answered, choosing to conceal her ancestry. Usually, this meant that it wasn’t well-known and held little weight. If she had any true backing, then she should recognize what Arakiel was about to tell her.
“Then allow me to inform you of mine. I hail from the major plane of Kalanaar, from the Eternal City of Kalanaar to be precise. It is one of the five gateways to divinity and I am a scion of one of its ruling houses, the House of Alexandrite. My parents are considered among the oldest and strongest of the demigods.”
“You seek to threaten us with powers that have no reach here, planeswalkers.” Queen Fodhla stated and added. “But your words intrigue us nonetheless. Very much so, in fact.”
“I am not threatening you, your Highness. I am merely stating the circumstances that you should be aware of.” Arakiel corrected while Aurora, as expected, kept relatively quiet. She liked to observe, after all.
“Then you would surely agree to a meeting.” The Middle Kingdom’s queen proposed, thinking further. “We would be delighted to hear tales of your home. Furthermore, we are not opposed to the idea of ruling in someone’s stead if you are truly as mighty as you claim to be.”
A not entirely unexpected development, but welcomed nonetheless.
“We can meet on neutral soil if you wish to discuss matters face to face,” Arakiel proposed in thought.
“Excellent.” Queen Fodhla commented. “There is an ancient grove south of Seelerest, a small hamlet that is about four to five days by foot from Maduts’ Crossing. Just follow the Moli west and once you cross over into the heartlands, head south towards the Crescent Lake. Tell a local woman by the name of Bidina that we sent you. She will lead you to the place where you need to be.”
“Your own kingdom’s heartlands can hardly be considered neutral ground.” Arakiel pointed out.
“None dare to enter the Seelenforst that borders the great swamps and the Crescent Lake. We will go there alone. You can choose to bring however many you desire, but know that we will take offense if any native hasn’t a strong reason to enter our forest.” Queen Fodhla answered and offered.
“What of your husband.” Arakiel queried. It was impossible to tell if she lied or not, but the opportunity might be too good to pass up. Even if she was level 8, Arakiel and Ezekiel should be able to cover their retreat if she ended up hostile.
“Who.” The queen responded and he would’ve loved to see her reaction right now. Alas, she was but a voice in his head.
“King Cahir,” Arakiel thought, feeling a little surprised even if he couldn’t express it. She was his consort after all – or maybe he was hers. The latter seemed progressively more likely.
“Ah. He is busy failing to meet our expectations. He will not be joining us.
That explained quite a bit, if it was true. Nonetheless, he affirmed. “Very well, these terms are acceptable.”
“Good. Then we suggest you move on the morrow. We will be heading over there posthaste.” The queen announced and for the second time, he was surprised how quickly the Middles wanted to do things now.
“Will you make it in time.” Arakiel asked with some skepticism, not that he could convey it.
Queen Fodhla’s answer returned right away and he was certain that she intended to admonish him. “We would extend an invitation if we could not be there to meet our guests. You can expect some courtesy, planeswalkers.”
With nothing else to relay, he opted to find some words of farewell.“Very well, your Highness. I look forward to meeting you.”
“As do I, your Highness. I am sure you will find my Lord’s offer to be very reasonable.” Aurora commented and bid goodbye as well.
“Likewise. We shall now leave the communion.”Queen Fodhla answered.
The next moment, all senses returned to Arakiel at once, causing him to briefly gasp and stumble about while his mind adjusted to the sudden shift.
Cold air, his own breath, Aurora’s vanilla – a soft wind brushing past.
And then lots of darkness with a few spots of light around him.
“How did the meeting go?” A sturdy male voice asked right away. It belonged to Duke Madut.
Arakiel shook his head and squeezed his aurea’s hand a little tighter. He then looked around as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings.
Aurora’s light had indeed gone out, but the duke and his Thaumaturges did create some distance as if to signal that they had no intention of attacking.
In the back, he saw his own troops outside the gate, weapons partially drawn. Akili, Aisha, Basam – even Shahar and his wives – they were all watching and ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.
“Most illuminating. As you promised, Queen Fodhla proved to be an interesting… what did you say, interlocutor?” Arakiel recalled, adding. “As for its content, it is not meant for you.”
The duke nodded and gave him a slight smile. “Of course. I was merely meant to be a messenger. We shall now take our leave, Executor Djinni. May you soon be enlightened.”
“I’m returning that to you right away. It’s a shame you and your people never sought to make peace with your neighbors. In another life, you and Basam ibun Zaki might’ve become good friends.” Arakiel mused out loud and then gave the Middle a respectful gesture. “Take care, Duke Madut.”
“As do you, Lady Aurora, Lord Arkaiel.” The duke man a slight bow that his mages mimicked, after which they turned around and left.
Aurora held out her hand and a small sigil appeared above. It vanished right away, causing another floating orb of golden light to form which allowed him to take in his surroundings once again. On the ground, Arakiel saw a bit of silver dust mingling with the white snow while the string of marbles had been removed at some earlier point in time.
Besides that, there wasn’t much to glimpse.
“Are you well?” He queried towards Aurora who beamed a smile at him.
“Look how far you’ve come, my Lord.” She repeated over, having said that sentence quite a few times by now. And yet, it wasn’t wrong to remind him. “Even the queen of the Middle Kingdom seeks to negotiate with you.”
He took her other hand as well and looked her straight in her wondrously golden eyes. “Perhaps, but she’s an admitted planeswalker and she’s been here for three decades at least. We need to approach this very carefully.”
“I am sure you and Ezekiel will manage with our help, my Lord.” Aurora pointed out, her melodious voice reassuring him nicely.
Arakiel and Aurora briefly remained and looked at the Middles leaving.
A bit of time passed and when the duke and his men set out to depart into the dark of night, they turned around and returned to Maduts’ Crossing, where he called for a private meeting with his advisors pretty much right away, but not before giving the order that his soldiers were to carefully and properly search the nobles’ abodes one by one.
They were to look for anything, be it magical traces, suspicious devices and whatnot. He wanted everyone to remember that the city was not yet theirs and until they were doubly sure that the Middles hadn’t left them any nasty surprises, it’d remain so.
That meant: no looting, no tribute and constant alert.
He then met with his inner circle in a nearby tavern whose owner was temporarily displaced alongside his family. Arakiel paid the man as though he was renting his best room for a week after which he sent them into the cellar for the time being, as he didn’t want anyone to eavesdrop on what he was about to discuss.
Then, he briefly outlined his meeting with Queen Fodhla, indicating his desire to meet the woman. He left out the part where she had allowed him to bring as many people as he wanted, instead claiming that she only wanted to meet the ‘Divine Envoys’.
As expected, the jinnum and the other southerners weren’t exactly thrilled, to put it mildly.
Nonetheless, Arakiel insisted on his authority as the gains outweighed the risks in his mind, even if he failed to convince Aisha and Akili.
Sultan Zimraan had forbidden the Smokeless Host from pushing further into the heartlands, which meant that his army was basically stuck in Maduts’ Crossing that they now had to prepare for the sultan’s arrival. For this, his presence wasn’t needed.
A personal encounter with one of their enemy’s rulers could lead to many different outcomes, yet most were beneficial for the Smokeless Host or his own – personal – ambitions.
None knew how powerful the queen was or even what kind of class or classes she held, but even if she happened to be level 8 or somehow even 9, she wouldn’t be able to stop the planeswalkers from retreating. It also quite possible she was still at level 7 and had never bothered to improve, choosing to rule over a small patch of land instead of striving further towards the apex. The path there, after all, was strenuous and deadly.
In any case, even though didn’t know his own level, it shouldn’t be a problem as long as he remained vigilant. He had lots of instruments in his toolbox, as did Ezekiel.
And so, he transferred most of his authority over to Aisha and Akili, suggesting they fortify and secure the surroundings in order to ensure that the sultan’s second army got through their territory easily. If they so desired, they could also hunt Duke Mardut and his people – he left that decision up to their discretion.
He then dismissed them and met again in the truly inner circle, with his party members alongside their property Nyanna and Alannah.
They had dinner around a small table in a room on the second floor of the tavern, where an especially wealthy patron could hold a little private meeting. A rather cozy atmosphere with paneled walls, a low ceiling and its own hearth. It even had a small stage for performances and a nice view out of the sizable window where one would’ve had a good view onto the nearby market square in the summer. Now, it was covered with an animal’s skin and heavy curtains to keep out the cold, but he could still make out traces of one of those old temples to a deity that no longer existed down on the cobbled square.
According to Mellia, it was a local, old and more or less defunct religion about two maiden goddesses – one who lived deep in the forest while the other one lived in the Crescent Lake. It had vanished with the appearance of Queen Ceara over half a century ago.
As far as Arakiel was aware on this subject, demigods that reached Limbus could influence minor and even medium planes to an extent, although it was impossible to physically descend in the flesh and it also cost sparks of divinity which were rather difficult to obtain.
He put down the tankard of warm spiced ale as Ezekiel shot him another question about Queen Fodhla, reminding him to pay a little more attention.
Their talks basically circled around whether or not they should really do this, risk it. Being out there in hostile territory while a ruler of unknown power awaited their arrival – it was reckless, bordering on madness and the more Arakiel thought about this whole endeavor, the more he wanted to take some more people with him.
Yet, if he wanted to impress in the negotiation, then he had to show up without any natives as everything else would be rightfully interpreted as weakness and he had to come across as strong and indomitable.
Ezekiel reminded him that they were that – weak, despite their victories. If the queen was a competent spell caster with access to shards, they could be in big trouble and while Arakiel agreed, he pointed out that this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity to convince the queen that resistance was indeed futile.
The more he thought about, the more likely it seemed that Duke Madut had been ordered to withdraw if Arakiel chose to negotiate. It was the only thing that made sense.
In the end, they agreed that it might just be worth the risk while disagreeing on what exactly they should do once they got there.
Arakiel wanted to negotiate in earnest and just test the waters while Ezekiel suggested that they should ambush the queen right from the get-go. She would prove an incredible bargaining chip.
On this, they agreed to disagree with Arakiel choosing on how to proceed as he was the party leader.
Mellia remarked that diplomacy had worked in Maduts’ Crossing and Scitathswood due to his reputation – there was no reason it couldn’t work now and every man or woman saved was a potential asset for House Alexandrite in the long run.
While that was true, he couldn’t conquer the plane that only mindset and Mellia knew it. It was just not feasible to subdue and conquer a plane without violence, especially on the lower levels.
She was just not too fond of witnessing so much death, which was understandable. She held up pretty well all things considered and he was certain that their mother had prepared Mellia to some extent.
In the end, the party agreed to just move out on the morrow and do it.
The alternative was tempting with more training and sparring, but the potential gains truly outweighed the risks this time and so far, luck hadn’t treated them too badly.
Besides, they weren’t completely defenseless.
The party prepared everything before going to bed.
There were no incidents in the night and so far, it seemed as though the Middles and Duke Madut had kept his word.
On the dawn of the 19th day of NO-77, the planeswalker party without a name set out westward on horseback.