Dranar shook his head, evidently perturbed by Sandorn’s plan.

“Don’t be a fool, we could spend hours down there and not find another way up. There isn’t any guarantee that there even is another way up for Gods sake.”

“Neither is there a guarantee that there isn’t another way up. You said it yourself you’ve only ever used the path you are proposing, there may be still many number of places we can re-emerge.”

Dranar glared at him, “My family remaining here isn’t enough? You still want to test me is that it? Were you not Drevan’s sons I would not stand for this.”

“We are Drevan’s sons, and you know why, we can trust no one Lord Dranar.” Averan interjected. “Besides you can not completely know the minds of those we are meant to meet. What is to say they won’t have betrayed us.”

“Because I have given you my word. There is no traitor amongst them. There are committed to you and your cause, I assure you.”

“Even still,” Sandorn said, “My Brother is right, and what harm is there in exploring the tunnels further, it will be good to have more than one way in or out. For now and the future.”

Dranar scoffed, “Very well then. Let is be on your Heads.”

“It always is.” Sandorn smiled and waved for the others to join them.

They did not require a large force for this outing. If indeed it was a trap then it didn’t matter how many men they had with them, and if it wasn’t then they would be safe amongst allies. In theory at least. Sandorn wasn’t sure about the meeting, it would have been better if the Lords and Ladies had come to them as Dranar had at the Inner Gates. But he supposed that would have resulted in a bloody mess of Chimeras fighting and killing one another. He did not want his Family’s return to be heralded by all out war in the streets. Not unless they were left with no other options. Perhaps it was better this way, coming to power with an overwhelming strength behind them through careful planning and hidden deceit from within. It had worked with the City guard, mostly. And if he was to lead he’d have to get used to such things, secrets and spies seemed to come natural to the Houses of the Forty. The last Kings of Gorias had put to one side the intricacies of politics and the inner workings behind the scenes, he would not make that same mistake.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the entry point, Dranar’s map was old but accurate it seemed. One by one they made their way down into what seemed like the sewers, the entrance point cleverly designed to spill out into the Ausgan river which flowed through the city. Had they not had the map it would have been almost impossible to spot the ledge which gave room for just one person to hang down before climbing in.

Once inside Sandorn and Averan took the lead, often having to bend down as their path looped and twisted under Gorias’s streets.

A little behind them came Dranar, flanked unofficially by Lear and Sarvth, and finally, Fenadorn, who spoke in hushed tones to Grend.

The tunnel was damp, dank and had clearly not being passed through for a very long time. That fact at least pleased Sandorn.

The old passages had been placed as a last resort for the Royal Family should an enemy besiege the city and breach the Inner Ring. It irked him a little that his Father had given the old maps to Dranar, his closest friend he might have been but he was no Aureate. Then again, Dranar was once supposed to lead the forces through the tunnels, if he didn’t deserve the map then no one did.

Dranar had shown where and how they could get to the meeting point. It was a location he had tracked himself many times and greatly lessened any chance of them being exposed above ground. Sandorn had refused, however. They would take a different path to the meeting. Their own path.

The tunnels gave several different access points from the inner to the outer city. As unlikely as it seemed, especially with the rest of his family back at the citadel with the threat of a thousand men hanging over them, Sandorn was still reluctant to put too much faith into Dranar’s hands. Whatever waited for them he wanted to give themselves as much opportunity as he could to prepare.

From the maps Dranar had given them it seemed there were once six entrances to the underground passages, paths scattered all around the Inner City. Dranar had only been on the path most convenient for them and had tried to convince Sandorn that the others were a waste of time. From what he knew all the others had either been revealed or destroyed. Even the map, as old as Father’s time at least had three entrances marked off in red, Sandorn guessed either collapsed or built over as the city grew. Of the three not marked with an X the two they had already scouted had been inaccessible. One had not moved no matter what they tried. The other they had managed to open a fraction with great effort and combined force. But to open it entirely would have meant returning back the way they had come for the necessary tools to pry it open. Averan had suggested the Chimeras, insisting that his would have the door open in seconds. Sandorn had flatly refused that idea, however. Averans sometimes forgot just how big his Beast was, and besides the force needed to open the would be clearly heard by any situated above. Sandorn didn’t want any within the Inner Ring to know of he and his Brother’s arrival. They had agreed to meet with Lord Dranar’s chosen few after midnight, yet it was important they saw just what waited for them. Even now he still did not trust his supposed allies. Inside the Inner Ring they were surrounded by other Chimeras. He and Averan might be able to find someway to escape if things went awry, but that still left Fenadorn and the others. Caution was needed.

As they headed for the final exit point, though Dranar said nothing Sandorn knew what he was thinking, but he did not want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

“How much further?” Averan moved up noisily behind him shaking Sandorn from his thoughts.

Sandorn shook his head, “Are you serious? How much further? Are you ten years old? I don’t know exactly do I, the maps give an idea but they’re old, and some of the paths in ruin. When we’re there I’ll tell you how about that.”

“The maps give an idea? Well then surely you have an idea, since you insist on holding the map. So again I ask, how much further? Just give me an idea, we’ve been down here long enough. I hate these kind of places.”

Sandorn stopped and waved his torch about him, “You hate these kind of places? You mean you hate the dark underground tunnel which might collapse at any moment, that is full of rats and other vermin and smells and looks like a sewer? Really you don’t like it? Strange brother, this is great for me.”

Averan pushed ahead of him, “You are very on edge aren’t you. And what’s with the repeating of everything I say. How old are you, nine? I’m just making conversation is all.”

“Complaining isn’t conversation.”

“Yes it is, most conversations are only that. Prices, family, weather, all most people do is complain.”

Sandorn raised a brow, but when he thought of it he did kind of agree with Averan. Conversations are just complaining for most people.

He kicked out at another creature trying to climb his boot, “Alright I guess it is but let’s leave that conversation for now. The complaining can wait, we have to think about what we will do inside.”

Ahead of them the tunnel widened and showed up an area more well maintained than others, marked on the walls with the Royal symbol of House Aureate, now faded but still visible in the torchlight. The Chimera Twins. Two blood red Chimeras opposite each other on a white field. Sandorn and Averan had long been amused by their own similarity to the sigil.

This was the third time they’d came upon such an area already today.

“Right, this must be the Eastern Opening.” Sandorn announced.

“Finally.” Averan said.

Like it had been with all the exit ways the gilded ladder stood in stark contrast to its dour surroundings.

”Same as before, I’ll go up first and see, ye folllow close behind. Whatever is above us we overwhelm. Ready?”

“Ready.” Came the answer from the group.

“This is madness,” Dranar grumbled.

Ignoring him Sandorn edged his way up as slowly and as silently as he could. Pausing at the top he looked back down to make sure once again all were ready.

He pushed and was surprised to find that the trapdoor moved easily.

He was even more surprised to find that it was dark above, no sun, no torches. It was almost exactly like the underground.

Could it be another level? No, impossible. The maps would surely have shown it.

A push from below sent him stumbling forward.

“Well?” Averan hissed.

Sandorn steadied himself before he moved up, letting his boot trail just enough to hit Averan across the head as he climbed up after him.

“I don’t know, seems like it’s a cellar of some sort.”

Sandorn’s eyes were starting to adjust by the time the others had clambered out of the tunnels.

It was definitely a cellar, the space given over almost entirely to wine barrels.

Averan drew his axe, “Well little else to do but head up. Nothing else for it.”

Sandorn scratched his chin, “We were down there for hours but still, it can’t be too long after dark. Perhaps we should wait awhile, let things grow quieter above.”

“Wait?” Averan shook his head, “For what? You said it yourself, we need to check and see if Lord Dranar was true to his word. There might be an army waiting out there for all we know. It’s dangerous but is it anymore dangerous than staying here? If someone comes down looking for a bedtime tipple then what? No, I say we move. While we can.”

Sandorn nodded before drawing out his sword, “A fair point. We have surely spent the day down below, it’ll be dark enough. Cloaks off, let’s be as inconspicuous as we can.”

“Exactly,” Averan agreed, “I’ll head up first.”

Sandorn would have protested but Averan was already on the stairs.

Quickly throwing off his own cloak he brushed down any loose pieces on his armor and followed the others.

Averan did stop at the top of the stairs. But only for a moment. Instead of peering out Averan barged up, so suddenly that he almost knocked Fenadorn coming behind him.

At least he hadn’t roared.

Almost immediately however Sandorn did hear cries of pain.

Panicking Sandorn leapt up the steps behind Fenadorn and Lear, the only sound he heard the cries of pain. His brother’s pain.

So it was with great confusion that he found both Fenadorn and Lear in fits of laughter beside the stairs entrance. Before Sandorn could berate them he saw why.

Averan had his axe down, held sideways. Evidently trying to illustrate his unwillingness to trade blows. The old man beating him with a thick wooden stick was having none of it however.

“Dog.”

Twack.

“Vile scum.”

Twack.

“Cowardly youth of abandoned mind.”

Twack.

“How dare you besmirch my family home. My abode. My premises. My living quarters. Risen from the bowels of an ancient ruin far beyond thy comprehension.”

For an old man busy thumping his Brother the fellow spoke with a surprising eloquence. One which totally belied his ragged appearance.

Sandorn waited a moment for Sarvth, Dranar and Grend and to get up and witness the source of the other’s amusement. It was a rare sight indeed to see Averan so helpless.

“ENOUGH. Enough you old fool.”

Averan was desperately trying to reason with the old man but getting nowhere.

“SANDORN, get him off, the dolt is mad, don’t make me kill him.”

Sandorn was happy to let the scene continue a little while longer, it was only a stick, no matter how annoying it might be Averan could stand there all day without a blemish.

He only stopped laughing when the old man turned on them, finally realising Averan wasn’t the only cowardly youth of abandoned mind present.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Aha. What is this? More of your fellow ne’erdoers is that it? Scavanegous vermin, you thread on sacred passages made for a higher kind than you. Only the forfeit of your lives shall satisfy the wrongs you have committed.”

He waved his stick at them, with some skill it must be said. “Give it freely, or it shall be taken. Let it be on your own head the decision you make it.”

Sandorn raised his hands and gestured for the others to do likewise.

“Easy now good sir. We have intruded on you, me and my companions. But I assure you none hold more right to these passages than we. For it was for my Family such construction was made.”

“LIES. How you make such vitriolic claims without burning on the ground before me astounds. You know nought of what you speak. Fool.”

Sandorn looked carefully at the old man, he must have been past seventy judging from his balding head and long silver grey beard. His clothes looked as old as him, a tattered faded surcoat wrapped around him. Sandorn frowned. No.

“Thou art a Guardian per chance?”

He thought it fitting to match the elder’s speech style.

The old man’s eyes lit up at the mention of Guardian.

“What did you say?” He whispered.

Slowly, with very deliberate movement Sandorn drew out the map. Pointing at it he took a step toward the man.

“You are a Guardian. One sword to protect the routes and entrances my Family built. I am Sandorn. That there,” he pointed to Averan, “the victim of your onslaught is my Brother. We are twins. Our Family name, Aureate. Sons of Drevan Aureate we use these tunnels in order to gain access back to the Inner City, Back to our Family’s lost throne and our lost birthright.

Tears glistened in the old man’s eyes.

“Aureate. Then your Father is…..Gods conceal me but I see it. You have his eyes , his nose. His face.”

He shook his head. “The Twins. You live. You live and now you are here. With me.”

Moving faster than Sandorn could have ever thought possible for such old bones the Guardian embraced him. Grabbing him in a bear hug tight enough to take his breath away. Turning slowly the old man looked around to stare at Averan. For a moment he just stood, staring.

“Look you old Fool-” Avern began.

He was interrupted by wails from the old man as he fell to his feet before him.

“Forgive me, Blood of the Kings. Blood of Gorias’s true rulers and Lords. Forgive me, Grolo of the Guardians. For my isolence and my ignorance.”

Tears flowed from Grolo’s eyes,

“I….I… I did not know.”

Avern looked to Sandorn, drawing out his axe he nodded down to where the man knelt. Sandorn waved his axe away.

If Averan had decided to cut the old man’s head off Sandorn doubted Grolo would of protested such was the anguish strewn across his face.

Sandorn knelt down to help him up.

“Easy, friend. You were only fulfilling your duty. You are a Guardian then yes? You must forgive us, we thought perhaps your order was at an end.

As Sandorn helped him up he felt the sudden change in Grolo, going from a crazed attacker full of passion and indignation to a feeble and tired shell of a man.

“Oh we are. We are at an end. The others and their families long since rooted out, moved or killed. My district of the passages the only now left standing. My entrance the last bastion of our order.”

He grabbed Sandorn lightly by the collar, “I never wavered, never faltered. I kept my oath. The same as my father kept his and his father before him. Kingsmen all, we never abandoned that which was right. Never.”

Sandorn smiled, “You stayed loyal all these years. WIthout any Royal instruction, with no walkers of the hidden paths.”

Grolo’s eyes shot open.

“Oh no, there were those who walked them. Trespassed. Young fools exploring what should not be explored. Let in through the damage those who destroyed your family caused in their searches.”

Averan laughed, “You stopped them then yes? You and that bloody stick of yours.”

“Bloody? Yes, yes very.” The old man’s eyes went distant, his voice dropped.

“Four of them, your age, perhaps younger. Young, scared. They trespassed. They saw what should not have been seen. They could not reveal the passage secrets. Even us Guardians know only of our own disctricts. I keep mine and the other five keep….did keep theirs. They trespassed, I had to stop them.”

“Stop them?” Sandorn stopped smiling.

“Yes. Their bodies are below now. It may be you passed them.”

“You killed them?” Averan raised a brow, “Because they were in the tunnels.”

“Oh yes. My order’s directs are quite clear. No one is allowed in the passages. None save the Royal Family and those it deems fit. They had to die.”

Grolo laughed bitterly, “What else was I to do? Once we would have been respected, given weaponry and armor worthy of our position. Now? Now all I have is this stick to protect me. Me and the path.”

No one was laughing now. A silence greeted the old man’s words.

It was Grolo himself who finally broke it. His clapping filling the room.

“But now you are here. My life’s purpose fulfilled. I stayed true, stayed loyal to my oath. To guide, protect and maintain the way. Under pain and torture. Ohoho Gods know I have suffered for it. A wife and two children left from me. Years of social exile, a relic from a time past. My family, once respected reduced to scrambling to keep what we have. All our riches, our gifts and prizes given to us by the King, all of them gone. Only the home which they granted remaining to us. But I know what it means to be a Guardian, I know, I know. The First King choose the Six himself you know. Men of valor and character. My ancestor was one such man. A soldier who served in the first campaigns of our people. He was given land and a home inside the Inner Ring. Even though we were not Blood of the Beast, of the Chimera. It was gifted to us and in return our Family was given an entrance, our homes built upon its structure. I remember my family History. I remember.”

Sandorn scratched his head, looking to Averan his Brother drew a hand across his neck. It took a minute but eventually Sandorn shook his head.

The old man was crazy, that much was clear. As a Guardian he likely was supposed to punish any trespassers, perhaps even kill. It seemed probably that he was just doing what his Order was supposed to. Then again…

He had killed some innocent if overly adventurous teens, evidently unable to recognise the decline of his Brotherhood. Killing seemed a bit extreme given the circumstances. But had he let them free? Would they not have revealed the passages in their entirety, effectively shutting down their way into the Inner Ring. It might be a mercy.

“I knew your Father,” The old man seemed to read Sandorn’s thoughts as he blurted out the words.

“You knew him?” Averan questioned, still holding his axe at the ready.

“Knew him? I grew up with him. We were fourth cousins once removed me and your Father, yes, yes we were practically brothers ourselves. Grolo and Drevar.”

“Drevan.” Dranar corrected, he’d been glaring at the man since they’d arrived.

“And I have never seen you. I thought you Guardians had died out a long time ago.”

Grolo turned and finally seemed to notice Dranar for the first time.

“Lord Drana? Is that you? By all the Gods….it has been years.”

“Dranar. We met?” Dranar asked with raised brow.

“Well, we did in many ways yes. I heard a great deal about you. You were supposed to be the one I met down here. I was to lead you out.”

Dranar nodded, “I recall mention of such a man, it is a pity then we did not get so far.”

“A great pity.” Grolo agreed.

He sighed before turning back to the boys.

“But you two, yes, yes” Grolo continued, “Seeing as me and your Father were so close I suppose that would make me an uncle to you boys. Of sorts.”

“Of very, very far off sorts.” Averan snorted, “The whole of Gorias might be our fourth cousin once removed, hardly an endorsement.”

“Ah but none of them are Guardians. None loyal like me. When your Father tried to make his plots I was ready to aid him. I was going to be the one to open the entrance and lead him and the others back to the old Royal Quarters. Me. Isn’t that right Lord Dranar.”

“It may have been.”

Whatever about distant relations and uncle status, Grolo somehow knowing about Father’s failed plots was an endorsement. Perhaps he was not always so crazed.

“You were willing to help him. Does that mean that you are willing to help us?” Averan asked.

The old man bowed low, “Of course. I am yours, as you are mine.”

He straightened and his eyes took on the crazed glare again, “I have killed in your Family’s name and honor. What was done once before might be done again. Mine loyalty is yours, now and forever.”

“Easy, easy, Grolo. Your loyalty is enough, do no kill on our account. Not now, not ever. If killing needs to be done then we shall manage it ourselves. Your protection of the Paths, whilst admirable in its…tenacity, should be tempered. Use the stick if you must, but no blood. Do not risk your life or anyone else’s for the Paths.”

Sandorn turned Grolo to face him, “That is an order. Guardian.”

“An order?”

Grolo placed two fingers to his forehead and then towards the sky, replicating the same Royal salute Dranar had done the night before.

Sandorn felt conflicted seeing it.

Grolo was a killer of three boys, at least. Sandorn didn’t want to ask about anymore. Still, they needed every loyal man they could get, even those of a slightly deranged nature.

Grolo could be dealt with later. There were more pressing matters to attend to.

“Do you know of the Point Edifice? We are planning to meet some friends there later, by an alley in its shadow. We’d very much appreciate if you could guide us there, somewhere overlooking it preferably. We wish to see just how many of our friends will be there to welcome us.”

Sandorn shook his head at Dranar before he could protest.

Grolo raised a brow, “Seems like a lot of caution for meeting some friends. But caution is good, Gods know I have learned that fact oft enough.”

Averan pulled a face, impressed. Sandorn felt the same.

Grolo hadn’t taken long to get their meaning. Perhaps he was not totally gone to them.

Grolo clapped his hands excitedly once again, “Well, it’s already after dark, and I see little point in wasting time here. Come, I know the perfect spot. Point Edifice, a fine meeting place. Alright then, follow my lead. Walk with pace, but not too much, and a great deal of purpose. You are Kings remember, walk like ones. I’ll play the role of your Herald and ye the two Lords returning home with your Lordly guard. All will be well.”

Without another word Grolo marched over to a large door, Sandorn counted seven locks, all engaged on it. He kept his eyes on the door pretending not to notice the rest of the room. It was a mess. A large circular room which once no doubt served as a fine kitchen. Now however furniture, clothes and a mass of cutlery and dishes were strewn all over the room. It didn’t seem at all a dwelling fit for human living.

He’s suffered for his vocation, for his family and their long held oath. He’ll need to be cared for. Another on the list of things needing changing.

After letting everyone out Grolo meticulously went through the process of locking the door again. Once he was ready however he soon proved his value, guiding them expertly through the streets, smoothly swerving and switching paths to avoid any of the potential traffic. Of which there was thankfully little. Most already about their hearths and the heat of their flames.

Sandorn was relieved, he’d memorised the route they needed to take on the city map, but still, in the dark and trying to allay suspicions it was easy to get lost. Gorlo’s presence made certain that wouldn’t happen at least.

They walked in silence until finally reaching a small park.

“Almost there now, that spot I told you of,” Grolo whispered.

Sandorn looked up at the night sky, he judged they still had at least an hour before midnight. Their early arrival gave them some time to seek out any traps and to make sure only those supposed to waited for them. It was also important to get Grolo safely away. If things went badly it was best he was not near, and if things went smoothly, well then it was also better he and his stick weren’t anywhere near them.

Grolo guided them towards the back of the park, past a cluster of well-kept trees. Gesturing frantically for them to stay behind them he edged out towards a low wall, beyond it lay a fine view of the Inner city and directly below it was the Point Edifice.

Grolo got down onto all fours and slowly peered out over the drop. Eyes wide he turned back to look at them and mouthed the words,

“They’re here. Too many. A trap.”

Sandorn shared a look with Averan, trying not to show his disappointment, he had not been open about his optimism but it was there. Behind them Sarvth and Grend pressed their swords against Dranar. Dranar himself looked on astounded. Sandorn did not see any insincerity in the surprised look upon his face. Perhaps he did not know his chosen few so well after all.

Sandorn made to creep forward himself, Averan did likewise. However, they’d hardly taken a step before Grolo began waving them down.

“I’ll deal with this,” again he mouthed at them.

“You’ll what? What did he say?” Averan hissed. “Oi, you old fool. Wait. WAIIIITTTT.”

Grolo just smiled back at them, slowly drawing out his stick from his back.

“Oh NO, no, no, no. Hey, hey,hey, no stick. No Stick.”

Averan’s whispers grew increasingly more panicked, and loud.

Grolo nodded to himself, with a sudden burst he leapt up and over the wall and was gone.

Sandorn’s head dropped, “Shit.”

They waited for the sounds of slaughter. They waited but only silence reached them. It took a moment but Sandorn heard it first. The faint sound of giggling. Just beyond the low wall.

Sandorn sighed and got to his feet slowly, strolling over he looked past the low wall. There was a small unmarked pathway that skirted along the wall. Beside it lay Grolo, desperately trying to contain his laughter.

“There’s…another..step.”

Averan got up and rushed over, before Sandorn could stop him Averan dropped the butt of his axe down into Grolo’s stomach.

The air instantly taken from him, the old man’s eyes bulged, his laughing caught in a gurgled mess of wheeze and giggle.

“Aren’t you past such foolishness, this is hardly a time for playing, Guardian.”

Sandorn heaved Grolo to his feet and urged him back towards Lear, “See him out of the park. We will find you later Grolo, now we have some things to attend to. You get back home safely and look after yourself. And no killings ok? No killings.”

Grolo still winded nodded slowly, “No killing. I’ll be waiting…at my home. Waiting.”

Sandorn motioned for Lear to take him away.

With that done with he headed over to where Averan now lay scowling, Fenadorn and Grend moved up beside them with Dranar in between.

“If we’ve gone through all this shit for nothing I best be hearing apologies off you boys.” Dranar said under his breath.

“It was worth going through all this shit to see the look on your face when Grolo mentioned an army waiting.”

Sandorn smiled at Averan’s words.

Dranar gritted his teeth, “Foolishness all of it.”

In the darkest edge overlooking the meeting alley they all lay watching. All they could do now was wait.