Frieven wasn’t their final destination – it was within the borders of Rhian under the treaty, but from there, they would evacuate the citizens and garrisoned soldiers to the closest Bizayn city. The whole evacuation would last weeks – the gateways were as powerful as the Adamantite mages could make them, each allowing no more than the size of five horses through at any time and each mage could only hold them open for so long.
Standing with Darius were his squires – one keeping hold of the reins of his horse, another holding on to his helmet and belongings. Three others stood by the flags that had been planted to one side –the banner of the Bizayn Empire, and two white flags. If the Murderhobo appeared, hopefully he would recognise the universal flag for a negotiation.
Four Wardens stood on guard nearby – Adamantite warriors –along with two scribes of the Emperor, sat in the saddle of their horses, leatherbound satchels hanging by their sides carrying copies of the treaty the Emperor had stamped with his seal.
Well, treaties that Primarch Lucius had stamped with the Emperor’s seal.
The turn of events was disconcerting. Darius was a patriot. A man of the people. His House was located in the northwestern part of what had been Rhian, but when Prince Talus – King Talman’s younger brother – had seceded western Rhian and named it Bizayn, Darius had been one of the first ones to swear fealty to the new Emperor. Other Houses as powerful as his had tried to rebel – even tried to convince him to join their cause to rejoin the Kingdom of Rhian, but he wasn’t concerned with who was in power as long as he could keep control of his region and look after his people.
Even back then, he’d been aware of the influence of the Order of Balance. He had never thought it would be as strong as it was now. He had been on the front lines for half a decade now but he would get regular reports from his household. Nothing had changed much in the lands under his control. There had been no temples there, so there had been no reason to allow the Order a foothold, and those like him who knew the stories of the old gods were quick to announce their non-belief. The gods and the devils were stories for children – a way to make them behave.
But now, he wondered how long his lands would remain unchanged. Remain under his control. He almost swore at himself for not seeing it. Why else would the Order – who already controlled Mahricia – raise Lucius to the position of their Primarch, if not to manipulate the Empire from the shadows? Now, he wondered if they had always done so. If they were the ones behind Talus’ secession. It had certainly been a bit of a surprise at the time. Talus had always loved his older brother but Darius knew the seduction of power better than most. Surprising though it was, why wouldn’t the younger brother seek to take power?
“Announce yourself,” a deep, booming voice said from behind him. He turned around to see a young maid walking towards them, an inch or two taller than himself, looking somewhere in her mid-to-late twenties. The handle of a weapon peeked above her shoulder, the wicked curve of a black axe blade visible behind her billowing black skirt. Curiously, she had a colourful doll perched on her shoulder, its eyes open and staring at him, its pink lips flat.
He wasn’t one to be unnerved easily, but a small tingle passed down his spine as he kept his eyes on the doll. It was if it could actually see him.
“Stand down,” Darius called to his men, turning his eyes back to the maid. He walked past his men, standing ahead of them to meet the newcomer, his hand still on the pommel of his sword.
“I am Lord Commander Darius. Are you here on behalf of Elliott Carpenter?”
“I am,” the maid said, giving no indication that she was surprised he knew Elliott’s name. She came to a stop a few metres away and peered beyond Darius and the others at the evacuation. “I see that you took our warning seriously.”
“We have. The Emperor has agreed to the terms of Aldren and Rhian, but we need time to evacuate.”
“How long do you need?”
“Maybe two days here. Another two weeks from Frieven? The other cities to the south are also being evacuated and will need as much time, if not more. I have two treaties here with me” – the two scribes nudged their horses forward firmly, holding up the leather satchels – “I would need the seals of the Kings of Aldren and Rhian. We will leave a copy with them and take one back to the Emperor. Of course, they can read over the terms of the treaty before they agree, but you will see that we have agreed to their terms. All we ask is for a month to move our people.”
“I see no reason why the Kings wouldn’t agree to that. You and your two scribes can come with me to have the treaty signed. No harm will come to you.”
There was a slight shuffle of armoured feet and the creaking of metal behind him, the Wardens uncomfortable with the request. He didn’t think he was in a position to demand otherwise, though. There was something in the way the maid stood in such a languid manner that made him feel she could kill them all and the rest of the soldiers in the time it took to boil an egg. His eyes swept across the doll sat upon her shoulder. His lips pressed together as he took a silent gulp of air. The corners of the doll’s mouth were curled into a small smile that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“I’ll go with you. The scribes can stay here.”
“The scribes come. You’ll need witnesses to the signing to present back to your Emperor. They can leave their horses here.” She glanced at the others. “All of you may go. We’ll have your commander back with you soon.”
Darius looked back to his men and nodded his acquiescence, but they hesitated. “You can leave. Tell Lord Captain Harshaw that I will be back shortly. You two,” he pointed at the scribes, “leave your horses.”
It took a minute for the scribes to step down from the horses, firmly holding on to their satchels and joining him at his side. The squires took the three flag poles down, and with the Warden’s surrounding them, led the horses back towards the camp.
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Once his men were far enough away, the maid put her palm out and an orb dropped into her hand. It was half gold and half silver, strange markings – circles and lines and symbols he didn’t recognise – etched into its surface. He saw her press down into the centre of the golden side. The etchings lit up for a moment, but other than that he saw nothing of note. Then she turned the orb over, pressing the centre of the silver side.
A moment later, a faint white light appeared a metre or so to her right. It elongated to the width of two men, then stretched upwards into a white screen, before the screen shimmered into an image. A breath caught in his throat as the two scribes let out audible gasps. He had never heard of such a contraption. A portable portal. Portal magic was a Tier 7 magic – Orichalcum and above. The higher the tier, the larger the gateway the mages could produce, but he had never heard of portal magic condensed into the palm of a non-mage’s hand.
He looked into the gateway and could see a chair a metre or two ahead, beyond which mounds of bodies piled high in front of the wide marble stairs that led to the entrance of the Temple of the Twins.
“After you,” the maid said, gesturing at the gateway with her hand.
He led the way, hand still on the pommel of his sword. Not that he’d be able to do anything with it, but it was the only comfort he had – an illusion of this meeting taking part on his terms. The scribes followed right behind him, as if afraid that they would go missing if they weren’t almost holding his hands, The maid stepped through, and pressed the centre of the silver side of the orb and the gateway shut down.
He glanced around, trying to avoid looking at the multiple mounds of the soldiers that had been serving here and noticed a shorter girl to his right, wearing brown and green leathers, daggers sheathed at her waist with short, black hair to her shoulders.
Lyla.
He followed her eyes to see what she was looking at and up there, at the top of the stairs was what could only be the Murderhobo. Darius couldn’t make out much of him, except the dozens of weapon hilts protruding from his back like he was a human porcupine. He seemed to be talking to a girl holding a staff – perhaps a mage – and a soldier, wearing gleaming plate mail.
“Wait here,” the maid said then sprang forwards.
Rose glanced beyond Elliott’s shoulder as the gateway opened and three men stepped through, followed by Isabel.
“Parek, remember,” Elliott said, “as long as both of you survive, you’ll get all the gold we gathered here and I’ll bring your family to you. If she dies, you don’t get the gold. If you die, your family stays in Bizayn.”
Suddenly, Isabel appeared at Elliott’s side and whispered into his ear as Elsie leapt from Isabel’s shoulder to Rose’s own. She looked at the carefree doll, who had a large smile on her face and was fist pumping the air like she was trying to motivate Rose. Rose couldn’t help but smile back. She’d accepted this was Elliott’s sister, but their natures seemed so different. One was carefree and full of life. The other seemed to hate all life but those closest to him.
Elsie slid down the front of Rose’s blue silk dress – the servants at the palace had had it washed and dried for her – passing by the crest of her house, before clipping herself onto the thin white belt around Rose’s waist.
As Isabel continued talking with Elliott, Rose whispered to herself, “Status.” It was a habit when she was about to do something dangerous or take part in some sort of mission or tournament. Like she got a certain comfort from the numbers.
Rose Annabelle Reese
Faction:
[Class: Mage]
Coin: 0 G 0 S 0 B 0 C
[STR: 131,420]
[AGI: 520,789]
[DUR: 123,652]
[STA: 102,342]
[DEX: 594,593]
[MAN: 865,477]
She wondered how far she was from Elliott, Isabel or Elsie. Or any of the Starforged they’d encountered here. She’d be curious to know how she matched up. How much would she need to improve her stats? Then she noticed her title had been changed. It had been
“Rose?”
She glanced up at Elliott, her eyebrows raised.
“You good?”
She blinked at him, then whispered, “Dismiss screen.”
She met Elliott’s black eyes though it seemed he could see into the very depths of her mind. She didn’t want to believe what he had said about her parents. She couldn’t believe it. But even having spent less than a day with him, it made her uncomfortable to think that he had been very honest from the start. He made no apologies for the man he was. And when he was so comfortable with that, what need did he have to lie? He wasn’t concerned with being liked. And that grated on her.
She hated him. She wanted to not believe him.
But what she’d seen so far had planted a seed of doubt in her. She glanced down at Elsie. Especially how he loved his sister.
She looked back at Elliott.
“I’m good. I’m ready.” She gripped the handle of her staff. She hoped that she was.
He pulled a grey orb from his belt and held it in his hand. She felt the mana flow from him into that orb, watched as the orb turned silver, whilst mana sigils etched themselves into its surface.
He handed the orb to her.
“This is a portalmaker,” he said. “Press this button,” he indicated a singular circle on one side, surrounded by a hexagon, “It will create a gateway to the living room in the palace.”
“A gateway? Wait, you can do that?!”
“You saw Isabel, didn’t you?”
“But I’ve never heard of such a thing on Earth.”
“I’m the only one on Earth strong enough to create them. Mana doesn’t like to be constrained. It takes a level of skill and power to really mould mana in ways it doesn’t want to be moulded and to contain it. Most people won’t even attempt to, because the likelihood of it going wrong and them exploding in the attempt is very high. Doesn’t matter how powerful someone is.”
She deposited the orb into her inventory.
Elliott seemed to be thinking and then he pulled out another two orbs – one a deep purple, the other a forest green.
“You probably won’t need these but there’s no harm,” he said as he put the orbs in her hand. “The purple one is called ‘The Demonic Tree’ and will summon a demon tree for you. The other is called ‘The Horde’ and will summon goblins for you. Both are one-time use. You’ll get about five minutes from them but they’ll help if you have hordes of Adamantite to deal with. The tree could help with a Starforged level or two as well.”
She deposited both to her inventory.
“Be sensible when using it. Elsie is with you, so these are last resort to help her if she needs it. Or to help you if you’re separated.”
Then he seemed to have another thought, and pulled out another orb. A deep-blue orb.
“Just in case. My experience of dungeons is they’re always full of surprises. ‘The Breathing Bubble’. This one will surround you in a bubble of air for a few minutes.”
As she deposited that one to her inventory, she felt him cast a spell and felt like a calming breeze settled over her. She raised an eyebrow?
“What was that?” Parek asked.
“Protection shields. You’d have to take a significant amount of damage for it to break.”
Elliott stepped back from them.
“Now you’re ready. Rescue the Twins,” he grinned at them.
She wanted to spit at him. It almost seemed like he cared about their wellbeing, but she knew he only wanted Elsie to live and for her to get the answers he was looking for from the Twins – the gods he had told her about. She turned around to face the rainbow of colours swirling in front of her. Perhaps those Twins would have answers for her too.
She thudded the butt of her staff to the ground and reached out with her other hand. The colours swirled and writhed, a small blob emerging from the dungeon entrance, reaching towards her. It grew larger, like an exotic creature, the rainbow colours forming a circular mouth, within which was only darkness.
She closed her eyes and let it take her.
"Elliott reached out with his hand towards the dungeon entrance. If it would accept him, it would feel like that wormhole that had brought him here – the colourful door should reach out like a fluid, wrapping itself around him, sucking him in and spitting him out on the other side. But the swirling kaleidoscope of colour didn’t behave that way as his hand got closer. Instead, it continued to spin as his hand pressed against it like it was a solid door. It confirmed what Parek had said. It wouldn’t allow him to enter."
"Elliott turned to Isabel, pulling a small grey orb the size of a tennis ball from his waist. He created a [Portal Node] where they stood between the chairs. That’s why he’d warned the other two. They wouldn’t want to be standing there if the gateway suddenly opened. Portals weren’t the strongest magic, but the gateway would open no matter what. If something was in its way, it would be sliced clean through.