Calris trudged along the plank walkway the Gundagaal had constructed for their piquet rounds and failed to suppress a yawn. The jungle creatures never came past the Sentinel Stones, but you didn’t survive the jungle by being careless, and they kept up a twenty-four-hour patrol through the outskirts of the ancient city.
Calris had to admit that, although it felt like a betrayal of Levi and his tribe, the Gundies weren’t too bad. At the end of the day, they weren’t so different from the Aluwai; they laughed at the same jokes and they cared about their tribe and family. They had done what they needed to in order to survive, and Levi probably would have done the same in their situation. Maybe he should make an attempt at being nicer? He could be the bridge between the two tribes! Maybe he could get Levi and his warriors invited in to help at the dig site, too?
And maybe then he’d stop getting the bloody pre-dawn piquets! Calris cast a paranoid glance around into the darkness surrounding him. The jungle noises were fine during the day when he could see, but at night, with the moonlight ensnared by the jungle canopy leaving great puddles of impenetrable black, his heart beat so fast on his rounds he thought it would explode. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself.
The jungle animals don’t pass the perimeter. Nothing’s going to jump out at me. Just need to stay calm, do my job, and wait for piquet to end.
At which point it would be dawn, and already too hot to get any sleep. He grumbled and kept patrolling, reciting his mantra and cursing the Gundies for shafting him with a shitty piquet again. His heart rate was finally back under control when he heard the walkway creak behind him. He slowly raised his spear, trying to gauge how close the noise was behind him. He heard another creak, closer this time, and spun, spear raised and ready to strike.
Jasmine screamed.
“By the Pantheon, Calris! What the fuck?”
“What do you mean ‘what the fuck’? Why would you sneak up on someone in the middle of the night? In the fucking jungle!”
Jasmine glowered at him, breathing heavily, hand clasped to her chest. Eventually, her breathing rate slowed, and her hand fell to her side.
“Alright, I will admit that in hindsight, this was a poor choice. Sorry?”
Calris shook his head. He had been scared damn near out of his skin. But at least she was apologising. Not that long ago this incident would have resulted in them not talking for at least a week.
“Its… alright. I’m sorry I almost stabbed you with a spear.”
“Call it even for you killing the swamp drake that was about to eat me?”
“No chance, but I’ll call it even for the canteen of water I gave you afterwards.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes and smiled, strolling past him in the direction he had been patrolling. “That is fair, I suppose.”
They walked along in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Calris wasn’t sure whether it was the calming effect on his nerves, not being out here alone anymore, or whether it was because he enjoyed having her around. He couldn’t exactly say. Maybe a bit of both. Probably a bit of both.
“What brings you out here at this time of night?” he eventually asked.
“Truth be told, I was looking for you. It has been hard to find time to talk since we arrived. You know, during the day I study the ruins while you and Ban help with the excavations, and at night you are either sleeping or patrolling.”
“Are you trying to say you miss me, Princess?”
“Maybe I miss you both a little. Mostly Ban though,” she said, giving him a playful shove.
“I’m sure,” he said, unable to help the smile on his face. “I’m a little surprised though. I thought you’d forgotten all about us with Rory around and all.”
“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Ape?”
Calris knew it was, but he’d be damned if he gave her the satisfaction of hearing it out loud. Instead, he deflected with a question of his own.
“Do you like him?”
“Do I like him?”
“Yeah, you know, ‘like’ him?” Calris said, air quoting the word.
“Well,” she started, drawing out the word. “He is brilliant, polite, and a powerful mage as well.”
“So, you do like him.”
“Mostly, I like that he makes you jealous.”
“I never said I was jealous.”
“Some things do not need to be said out loud.”
Calris looked at her. She was staring straight at him, a knowing smile on her face. He looked away, but he could still see her in his peripheral vision, her smile replaced with a furrowed brow. Great. They had been fine, having fun together, and now he had gone and made things awkward. He racked his brain for something to say that would change the topic.
“Have you discovered anything new from the site?” he finally asked. It was blatantly transparent, but the best he could come up with. When he was around Jasmine these days, his brain turned to mush. It was becoming a serious problem.
Jasmine turned away with a sniff, and Calris thought he had upset her, but when he snuck a glance at her face, she didn’t seem angry, more… disappointed.
“It is going well,” she replied. “I have spent most of my time studying the carvings in the archive room. Our demonic friends from the Keep make quite a few appearances.”
“Really?” Calris asked, eyebrows raised. Even though he had been there, in the weeks since he had started to wonder if his brain had invented the whole thing, it seemed so surreal.
“Indeed, and more besides. Apparently swamp drakes came through from this other world, too.”
“That actually makes a bit of sense.”
“How so?”
“You can see evidence of evolution in other animals, right? Lots of different breeds of dog from the same ancestral source. Summa summa with cattle, birds… and the same with lizards.”
“You never cease to amaze me, Ape. It almost makes me forget you are a foul-mouthed simpleton. Where are you going with this?”
Calris stuck his tongue out at her, but otherwise ignored the jibe. “When have you ever seen a lizard that bears even a passing resemblance to a swamp drake? Size aside, the hip joints are different angles, and the skull structures are broader with different muscle composition and anchor points. It’s like they just popped into existence one day, rather than evolving from something smaller.”
“That is… remarkably astute.”
“Thank you. So, what else was there?”
“The monster generals were tall, red eyed and had elongated canines, but aside from that they looked largely human. There were many more, though, probably a dozen different species, easily. Some of them were completely unknown to me, but some others bore remarkable resemblance to monsters from myths and legends around the continent. One of the beasts resembled the trolls from Skjar legends, and some generals rode Griffons of all things!” Jasmine kept talking, but Calris stopped dead in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You mentioned a troll? What did it look like?”
“Using the humans to gauge their height, I would say probably three or four meters tall and solidly built, long sharp claws and teeth, tusks, fairly consistent with the myths. A few of them were even shown attacking mages, which gives some credence to the stories that they feed exclusively on Talented people.” She paused and shuddered. “What a vile thought.”
“They aren’t a myth,” Calris replied, sightless eyes glazed over as he stared into the night. Jasmine had stopped walking too, and was staring at him expectantly.
“What is it?”
Calris sighed. This was a painful memory, and one he didn’t like sharing. The people in his village had believed him, and he had misinterpreted that as proof everyone else would as well. He had learned quickly after joining the marines that most people thought trolls really were a myth, and anyone talking about killing one in the northern forests of Calandor was probably touched in the head. He sighed and started to speak.
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“It was a few years ago now. Me and Ban were still just kids, off playing in the woods while the adults worked. The wolves and bears knew well enough to keep their distance from the town. The woodsmen were hardy and there was easier prey to be had, so we all thought it was more or less safe.” He paused and sat heavily onto the walkway.
“But we were wrong. The troll came out of the woods, probably drawn by the noise we were making. We screamed and ran, and it chased us. Two woodcutters found us first, threw themselves at it to buy us some time. Brave blokes, but it turned out they weren’t much of a speed hump. But it was enough. Gods, I wish it wasn’t.”
He buried his face in his hands. No one else had heard this story in full, no one knew it but Ban. He hadn’t even told Olic. He felt warmth on his face and palms as the tears started flowing, and his shoulders heaved as his body was wracked with sobs. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders as Jasmine sat beside him, silent, just letting him cry. Fighting to wrangle his emotions, he choked off the tears and slowly raised his face from where it had been buried, giving Jasmine a smile to try and convince her he was alright.
“It is alright, Calris, you need not talk if you do not want to,” she said.
Calris considered taking her up on the offer. The memories were painful, and he had done just fine burying them for the last decade. But, he realised, he wanted to talk. Now that he had started, he wanted to finish, to share his pain with someone who wouldn’t judge him as weak for his tears.
“No. No, if you’ll listen, I want to tell you the story.”
Jasmine smiled and squeezed him tight. He sighed, feeling in control again, and gathered himself up to finish.
“My mother arrived. She had found a pitchfork somewhere in the field and brought it with her. She took one look at the bodies of the woodsmen, me and Ban huddled there on the ground, and she launched herself straight at the troll. Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “No fear, no hesitation, just went straight for it. You know, for a while there I thought she was going to win too. It couldn’t touch her. Whenever it tried, it just caught a pitchfork for its troubles. It was bleeding from over a dozen wounds, and was slowing down… when she tripped. It must have been a, a root or something, I don’t really know, but… It caught her in its claws and…” he paused again, feeling the tears welling up, but fought them off. “I remember… screaming, and… running, and then the pitchfork was in my hands and I was stabbing at it. It threw my mother aside and focused on me then. Gave me this,” he said, drawing his finger along the scar that ran over his eye. “Ban saved me when he picked up the woodsmen’s axes and attacked it from behind. The crazy bastard used them as climbing hooks, working his way up the troll’s back towards its head.
“It started panicking, tried to get him off, and while it was distracted, I drove the pitchfork through its throat. It dropped. I guess I severed its spine or something, and then Ban chopped its head off. That day, we became blood brothers,” he said, showing Jasmine the scar on his palm where they had sworn the oath. “And as soon as we were old enough, we joined the marines to get away from there.”
Calris felt deflated and tired, but… good. Like he had been tensing his whole body for years and only now remembered how to relax. Jasmine sat there, not saying anything, just holding him. He looked at her and was suddenly struck by how close they were, their faces mere inches apart. His breath caught in his throat, and he could swear she reacted the same. The moment dragged out, and he wondered if this was that moment they talked about in the stories, the part when the two young lovers finally share their first kiss.
Jasmine shifted slightly, maybe towards him, but he wasn’t sure as he pulled away. He knew he wanted to, but not now, not after what he had just spoken about. He felt closer to Jasmine in this moment than almost anyone else in his life before, but he also felt drained. It wasn’t the right time.
“Jasmine, I’m sorry I just-”
She shushed him and squeezed his shoulders again with her arm. “It’s alright, Cal. I understand.”
They sat in silence for several long minutes, just looking up at the stars as the sky slowly lightened, until, one by one, the specks of light disappeared. Calris knew he should still be doing his rounds, but fuck it, he couldn’t remember ever feeling like this, this mixture of emotions. He was sad thinking about his mother, angry at himself that he couldn’t save her, fearful of the monsters still yet to be faced, and over the moon that Jasmine was here with him. He didn’t know exactly how she felt, but at this point he’d be willing to bet Ban a few silvers she felt something for him.
Not only that, but he felt something for her too, and that was something that had never really happened to him before. As the sun crested the horizon, he realised Jasmine had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. Smiling, he gently shook her awake and helped her to her feet.
“Where? Wha?” she muttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“It’s alright, Princess, you just had a little nap. Let’s head back to the camp and find some coffee.”
They wandered back along the walkway in silence, Jasmine still waking up while Calris sorted through the, until recently, buried emotions. Jasmine gazed at the damaged wall as they passed through the gate.
“I wonder if the army that destroyed this place had trolls?” she asked, still groggy from her nap.
“Doubt it,” Calris replied as he kept walking.
“What makes you say that?”
“Trolls don’t use catapults.”
Jasmine startled him as she latched onto his arm and spun him around to face her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, aside from the obvious difficulties of operating machinery with claws several inches long, the one we killed didn’t seem intelligent enough to practice siegecraft.”
“Obviously, you bonehead, I meant why are you talking about catapults in the first place?”
Calris pointed at the collapsed section of wall closest to them.
“The wall broke halfway up. It’s too high for men with a battering ram, which means a boulder from a catapult was more likely the culprit.”
“And a troll couldn’t have done that with a club or something?”
Calris paused and scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“No, I don’t think so. The debris scatter pattern would be different. Also, they’re strong, but not as strong as these walls. That was definitely the work of a catapult.”
A strange look crossed Jasmine’s face. First it went slack, then it scrunched up in a grimace before finally settling on something akin to excitement.
“We won the battle in the first panel,” she muttered to herself.
“What?”
“We won the first battle! The monsters didn’t do this. They were losing and retreating through the Gateway! People did this! Come on!” she shouted as she grabbed Calris’ hand and raced towards the part of camp where the mages had pitched their tents. They passed Ban and Asim, both sitting bleary-eyed on logs, nursing mugs of pungent coffee.
“Where are you two going?” Ban called after them as they dashed past.
“I’ve got no bloody idea, mate, but I think it’s important,” Calris called as Jasmine dragged him through a tent flap. Inside, Rory sat upright in his bedroll, dark energy coalescing around his hands. When he realised it was just Jasmine and Calris, the energy dissipated, but he still maintained a cranky look.
“Good morning, Jasmine, Corporal Telruson. May I enquire as to what this intrusion is about?”
Elsewhere in the tent, Alincia stumbled groggily out of her own bedroll, reaching for her mace and muttering something about being under attack.
“Sorry for the intrusion, and no, Alincia, we aren’t under attack. Calm down,” Jasmine said, her words coming out in a jumble.
The light mage flopped back onto her bedroll with a dark expression. “Then why, in the name of the Aethelia’s Infinite Grace, am I awake so fucking early?”
“Humans attacked this place! Not the monsters!” Jasmine said, pacing around the small tent. “We assumed the fortress fell to the monsters because the panels depicted battles with them, but in the panels, the humans were winning,” she continued as behind them, Asim and Ban entered the tent, followed by Ferez.
“What in the name of the Pantheon is going on here?” he demanded.
“Jasmine believes humans sacked this fortress, not the monster army like we thought,” Rory replied as he tried to discretely put his pants on inside his roll. “And you are right, Jasmine, at least for the battles that they carved, but what if their fortunes changed after the last panel and they didn’t carve more?”
“I believe their fortunes did change, but not for the reasons we thought. What if the generals, those mages from this mysterious seventh school, were tyrants? In all the friezes, the only people who ever looked to be in control of the battle were those mages, while around them, other mages and regular people were slaughtered in droves. And the six Arch Mages bowing to the seventh? One of the staple tenants of the Six Cities is that no college is pre-eminent over any other. Doesn’t it seem odd if, once upon a time, there was a ruling college?”
Rory was definitely awake now, though whether it was because he could see where Jasmine’s argument was headed, or because a hysterical woman was shouting in his tent at dawn, Calris wasn’t sure.
“I’ll concede you raise an interesting point there. It would explain why we had no knowledge of them before, if our people wanted to remove this seventh school from the history books. But I would hardly call it definitive proof.”
“And you would be right if that was all the information I had to go on, but it’s not. The damage to the walls was caused by siege weapons, most likely catapults. The humans in the carvings had these weapons, but the monsters weren’t shown to be using them even once.”
“How do you know catapults caused them?”
“Calris told me.”
Calris froze as the assembled mages turned expectantly towards him. He was trying to come up with a suitably eloquent argument when Ban saved him the trouble.
“What? You guys didn’t realise the damage was caused by siege weapons?”
“No, how did you figure it out?”
“I’ve seen a lot of walls knocked over by catapults. It’s pretty distinctive.”
Rory regarded them silently for a moment, thinking, before nodding once, satisfied with the answer.
“I defer to the judgement of the soldiers in this matter.”
Calris breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, Jasmine, what exactly do you think happened?” Rory asked.
Jasmine smiled, and Calris knew she had been building up to this. “Bear with me, I know this is going to be a bit of a reach, maybe a bit too far, but this is my theory. The mages from this seventh college ruled over the other mages, and likely the regular humans as well. The chronology depicted on the panels suggested the war occurred before the siege by Emrinth, which means it pre-dates any of the large empires and nations of the Continent, and a cabal of sorcerers powerful enough to cow the six colleges into servitude would have been the primary military might in the world at the time.”
“Fair assumptions so far. Go on,” Rory said slowly. Calris could see his mind working to catch up.
“The seventh college waged this war with the monsters. The first panel indicates the battle took place in our world, but after that victory, they pursued them through into their own world.”
“And then?”
“And then… something happened.”
Calris shot her a look. He had to admit, she had him going with the story too, right up until ‘something happened’.
“I don’t have enough information to talk specifics, but I think that somehow, the source of the mage’s power was trapped in this other world. With the source of their power gone, the tyrants would have had no defences when the people rebelled against their rule.”
“A mage’s power comes from the gods,” Rory replied, an uncertain frown on his face. “Are you suggesting their god was… killed? Is that even possible?”
“No, like I said, I think their connection to it was cut off somehow. But I believe it is still there, on the other side of that gateway.”
“And what makes you believe that?”
Jasmine opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by Ferez as he came up beside her. He was staring intently at Calris, and it made him distinctly uncomfortable.
“Because I suspect we have met one of these mythical mages,” he said, eyes boring into Calris. “In fact, he’s standing right in front of me.”