“Unfortunately, Thalanil will be...unable to take you to the matrix. I will lead you in his stead.” Accalia motioned for servants to escort the King to his quarters. He mumbled under his breath countless times, his voice drowning itself out. The reverberations from his lungs tore through his being and millions of claws tore at his back.

To the general passerby it would appear as if he were driven mad by Justicar magic.

She padded out of view and urged them to follow. The trio stepped over the melted weapons and other gear.

Arden took one glance over her shoulder. The sight of the warriors who toiled for years only to be brought down in seconds by her friends and their techniques was almost too much to bear. Remorse boiled deep within her core and she sheathed her enchanted sword. Her tenacity wavered for an instant as she trailed behind her comrades.

Gelehrter peered over his should and waited for her. As she passed, he whispered in her ear softly. “Would they have shown you such mercy if they were in your shoes? Their swords are still sharp and so are yours. You would have been killed if you did not defend yourself.”

I suppose not...She pondered over the events and replayed them a few times in her mind.

Arden...are you able to hear me? Rena's voice echoed within her mind. The mental link had been established, though she was caught unawares.

E-Err...yes.

I am sorry to startle you. I had informed Gelehrter of my plan, but I wasn't able to get to you in time. We tend to create mental links with one another to communicate silently. Especially in cases like this when it is better for the party involved to believe they are in control. She shivered at the thought of Accalia becoming aware of their discussion.

As quickly as the link had been woven it was severed.

The passage behind Thalanil's throne was hidden in plain sight; the company had approached the stone wall in mere moments once they had departed. With a wave of her hand, the wall slid along a tiny rail system. Dust clouds clogged their nostrils as they breathed instinctively. A darkened corridor leading into the depths of the castle—a desolate and icy place—was revealed to them. Accalia motioned for them to follow her as she entered.

The trio steeled their resolve and ventured after her. In moments the darkness swallowed them; the entrance seemed to slam itself shut behind them. Icy wind tore through them from behind and their callused resolve shook for a mere instant.

Silence reigned for a spell.

“'Tis a strange thing, this place.” Gelehrter observed.

“Aye, it is.” Arden agreed.

“This tunnel leads to the older reaches of the castle. The King, Ovelia and myself know of this place... I'm sure—is that Gavilis fellow still alive?” Accalia addressed them as peers rather than as adversaries.

“He makes a living in scaring the pants off new recruits.” Rena jested, though no one laughed.

“I remember when he trained myself and a few others. I was more interested in academics, however... Arden--tell me, how is Ovelia?”

“Mother is well.” She brushed the question off with a grimace.

“I hadn't seen her in quite some time. It will be a pleasure in being the adviser to our Overlord.”

Something about her seems off... Gelehrter contemplated.

The corridor led to a gigantic chamber ahead. As Accalia entered ahead of them, the floor illuminated itself with a flash of light.

Prismatic arrays dotted themselves into existence, the expanse seeming alien. Though the panels were covered in dust, machines and other forms of humanoid lifeforms daintily moved about. Robots of all shapes and sizes continued as if they had never stopped functioning. Sparks sprayed about as they repaired one another, almost like one gigantic living being. Dust was swept by other lifeforms and processed into more metallic items.

They gazed about them in awe save for Accalia, whom appeared concerned.

Gears clicked into place and a voice overhead boomed.

“I sense an Overlord approaching. Make yourself known, Mortem.” The voice cried.

The party glanced to Accalia. Before she could speak, the voice intervened.

“You, born of Dwyn and Mortem joined blood, speak.”

“A-Aye...I am she. I am Arden Mortem, adopted daughter of Ovelia.”

“Another had authorized a termination of the O.S. Vermilion Defense Matrix. His name was Thalanil. His reasoning was to join the hands of many under his banner with the use of vampirism at its helm. Do you revoke this and choose another path?”

Confusion raged within Arden. No sort of responsibility or weight had been placed on her before. The pressure of this decision allowed a mantle to rest onto her shoulders. All about her the systems moved about automatically, the machines seeming to be oblivious to the situation. Arrays and other devices were activated far away. The scent of decay, refuse and other forms of inactivity vanished.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yes. I, Arden, do beseech thee to enable the O.S. Vermilion Defense Matrix. Synchronize the system with the rest of the defense matrices throughout Sanctuary.” She cried and as the order was given, a massive boom was heard nearby. A platform rose from underneath their feet and carried them swiftly above.

As they neared the ceiling it opened for them to emerge on the outer rim of the wall. Castle Burm could be seen almost as clear as day from their vantage point. The land, though once abundant with night activity, appeared eerily quiet as the crimson lights glowered at the kingdom. To their right one such turret had been loaded with a gigantic round into its chamber. A two pronged mechanism focused onto Burm below.

Without warning, it began to charge. The energy required was immense, the very ground underneath their feet shook for a few seconds as it mustered the force to fire. In a brilliant array of magical runes, lightning took shape before their eyes. Instinctively they covered their ears as it released the energy into Burm. Several others from their right and left fired as well. For a few moments the stonework shook from the force of the turret arrays.

As each cannon released its magical energy into the land below, a round was discharged and then replaced. A distant sound of metal crashing against stone could be heard faintly as the door for the round opened.

A system which operates with no mortal touch? Rena questioned, her eyes catching glimpses of the magical arrays before the cannon released the energy.

Moments later the platform took them from the perch and down below. As they descended, the rounds from the turrets plummeted beside them. Once they reached the floor, they glimpsed robots removing the rounds one by one.

“Seems that this place was not intended for us.” Gelehrter concluded. He rested his hand against his forehead to attempt to see farther but to no avail.

“Threat levels in Burm have been silenced. Malevolent intent has been quelled.” The voice announced.

“We should return to the castle. I wonder if anyone was killed.” Rena suggested.

“...Those things never miss.” Accalia confirmed her suspicions.

* * *

The hammer rang as it usually did from dawn until dusk. Ana's work never ceased and customers flocked to her smithy to either purchase goods or take note of her techniques.

She took her time with each blade and piece of equipment. The teachings of her father remaining in his golden ring bled into her true self. As time wore on and the more she worked, the more familiar each strike of her hammer felt. To the ordinary passerby, she was a master.

Though truthfully, she was his spirit given form.

A thrashing took her by surprise. She finished a section of a short sword before hurrying to a nearby window. A celestial owl nipped at her hand as she reached for the letter in its massive claws. She stroked him and it released the prize.

Ana hastily opened the letter. Her soot covered hands left an impression on both the owl and the envelope.

Her cheeks rose to a bright pink and she held the letter to her chest. Many had vanished as the day had wore on, but a few were too busy browsing to take notice. She daintily placed the letter onto a counter under some scabbards she had prepared.

“Miss Ana, am I correct in asking for this item?” A dwarf's deep voice brought her attention back to her work.

“Yes. It will be approximately four hundred diamond dust.” She accepted a pouch of the coins and he exited with his prize: a broadsword.

The day passed like a dream. She felt the aches from the swinging the hammer, her arms screaming at her as she even attempted menial tasks.

At the usual table where many had sat with her on many occasions, was empty save for her. She ate and stopped herself from staring at a nearby door forlornly.

Ana headed into the forge once more to retrieve the letter. As she returned to the kitchen, she absorbed the contents of the missive. She retrieved an inkwell and parchment. Her hands, though freshly cleaned, still stained the paper with soot and dust.

Hastily she scrawled for what seemed to be hours. Pages upon pages were filled with her musings, her commentary on her life and questions of the outside world. Burm, though miles upon miles away, was a whole other world compared to her smithy in the Market District.

Dear Gelehrter,

Hello again. I am glad you took the time out of your schedule to write to me. Life here has not been easy. People keep coming to my smithy to watch me work and some of them are other smiths. Papa never allowed them to before now and I oblige them. Sometimes they offer some tips or small talk.

I think they eye me. I don't understand why they would. I am just a simple girl with a simple life. I have Papa's ring and it helps me when I think I have a task too big for me to handle. I think Papa left his spirit in it to aid me if I so choose. It is a strange thing, this ring. Perhaps it was his intention all along to leave me all of his belongings?

Perhaps before Arden and everyone else you know decides to come here looking for replacement blades I should look through some of the things he left me. I don't have the heart to do it. Papa was so strong and there is so much I do not understand about him. He apparently knew so much and had so much to give in terms of knowledge but chose not to share it with anyone.

I wonder if many other smiths come to me in hopes of learning his techniques. He operated his hammer in such a strange way. For the most part it is muscle memory, as I do not take it off.

Anyway...enough about me. What is Burm like? I imagine Burm is a lot like a very, very cold place...like a cellar. Except with a lot of people in it...and no wine. Wine is something I enjoy from time to time though. Its not as nice when you are alone however.

Rena's book is so interesting. I enjoy reading a lot, though I had a lot more time when I was younger. Papa used to buy me books and I've collected quite a few over the years. I think it is such a lovely thing, you know? As a Justicar you must read a lot. Though it might just be manuals and other boring things.

The letter droned on for pages. She even doodled several pictures and diagrams of her ideas. The framework behind her smithing was systematic, much like her adoptive father's, with hints of scientific flair. She grimaced as she took in her gigantic letter. The pages were scattered about in her fury.

After a few hours of detail, fatigue cradled her like a lover. Ana organized the bits and folded them as best she could into a spare envelope. She headed into the smithy and sealed it with wax from a candle.

The owl waited patiently and watched her as she searched about her mounds of materials. A bottle of perfume was scavenged behind several longswords. Desperately she tried to coat it in the new scent, but a hole siphoned what left of the cologne.

She struggled to tie the envelope to the bird's leg and it nipped at her when she tried. Instead she allowed the owl to grasp the letter and it soared out of sight.

* * *