[Severed Divinity] Chapters 39-42

[ I've been really bad at posting. Appreciate all of you. Doing my best. 🙏 I am aware you are all here for Menocht and have not deluded myself into thinking otherwise, lol. There's really not much more than like, probably 50-70k words left in Menocht. I really just gotta finish it and stick the landing. It's much easier said than done q.q In the meantime I hope Severed Divinity has been enjoyable to those that have given it a shot. ]

Chapter 39. Story for a Story

Late at night, Isen woke with a start. Allezin stood over him, his finger pressed to his mouth. Isen narrowed his eyes and carefully got up.

Allezin ran fast enough that Isen had to sprint to keep up. When they’d gone a mile out, Allezin stopped. “I need you to come with me on a small trip.”

“Why do you need me?”

“You’re the only one who saw traces of the shadowy presence before.”

Isen flinched but couldn’t deny it. “Are we going back to the town?”

“No. Whatever you saw would have been a lingering remnant of a far larger onslaught. After dissipating, there’s no guarantee it would return.”

“Then… you’re going to the next town,” Isen reasoned.

Allezin inclined his head. “You don’t have to come.”

“You think it’s also been razed,” Isen guessed.

Allezin shrugged. “If it isn’t, then we go back. If it is… we search.”

Isen’s curiosity made the choice obvious. “I’ll come.”

Allezin patted his shoulders. “Up you go.”

Isen made a face as he wrapped his arms around the warrior’s armored neck. Without any warning, the tier three charged ahead. Allezin moved even faster over the open plains than in Shevenar. Isen felt like he was flying.

The elf only slowed half an hour later when another town came into view. The gates were closed, which was a good sign, until they came close enough to see bodies on the spikes.

They were clearly humans and drayavin, like at the previous town. Allezin’s stride was unfaltering as he jumped over the spikes to the top of the gate, then scaled the wall of the tallest guard tower. The interior was messy, and there was blood, but no bodies.

“Do you see any shadows?” Allezin whispered, letting Isen down.

“No.”

Allezin grunted, then leaned over a desk on the nearest wall, palming a pale orb that glowed a faint yellow. It wasn’t attached to the desk, but a chain snaked from the orb and anchored in the center of the room, disappearing into the stone floor.

“What is that?” Isen asked.

“Communication relay,” Allezin replied. “The tether’s still intact, so it might be functional, unlike the one earlier today.”

Oh, Isen thought. Was that one of the reasons he made the stop at the ruined town, to see if the relay would work?

That was when Isen saw it. A shadowy blob hunkered in the corner, only as big as an infant. “Hey,” he said softly, “there’s a shadow.”

Allezin stiffened, his eyes snapping to where Isen had been looking. Allezin’s eyes began to subtly glow pale blue in the dark, distinct from the typical steel gray of his irises. A throwing knife suddenly appeared in his hand and he flicked it at the shadow, dissipating it. The glow faded and Isen thought the warrior’s eyes looked bloodshot in the glow of the communication relay.

The warrior once more focused on the relay, only to be interrupted again by Isen’s nudging. The blue glow of his eyes renewed, and he flinched.

They were surrounded by shadows of different shapes and sizes. One loomed over the others, distinctly human in silhouette. The edges of its form moved like the legs of insects, twitching and disconcerting.

Its shadowy head split open, revealing two rows of sharp teeth and a long, pointed tongue. “Allezin,” it said, voice sibilant. “Do not use the relay.”

The warrior’s expression was inscrutable. “Is that a threat?”

“Eldrassin does not yet know this town has fallen.”

Allezin chuckled without humor. “And why shouldn’t the capital be informed?”

The shadow hissed. “The capital is the enemy, feasting on the legacy left by the dead queen.”

Legacy? Allezin also seemed confused, though he didn’t interrupt.

“Sharks are circling, preparing to close in. You should let them. This is not your fight—anything you owed Eldrassin is in the past.”

“Welco… what legacy?”

“It’s better if you never know.”

“I need to know!” Allezin spat, his fingers grasping the relay tightly. Isen was concerned for the orb’s integrity. “Whatever it is must be related to why she died.”

“Come to Eldrassin, then, and I will show you. I will not meet with you if you use the relay.”

Allezin ground his teeth. “The town I was tasked with protecting was practically wiped off the map. Two other towns were mercilessly razed. Not even pillaged! Just destroyed. Drayavin stalk the plains unchecked. How could there be any excuse?”

“They’ve come for a reason.”

“And you’re working with them.”

The shadow laughed. “Come to Eldrassin and seek me out. Then we can have a proper discussion. Don’t use the relay.” It turned its gaze to Isen. “Come if you wish. I’m curious how you can see my shadows.”

With that, the tall figure disappeared. The menagerie of smaller shadows remained, ominously watching them from around the room.

Allezin held onto the relay for a solid minute, not saying anything. Isen hardly dared to breathe. The man ultimately placed the relay back on the table. Then, with a snarl, he expanded his spear and spun it in an arc. Energy scythed through the shadows, reminding Isen of the serpent’s tail attack. The menagerie melted away, leaving the pair alone.

The warrior smacked his shoulder and spun the spear again, retracting it into a short baton. “Get. On.”

Isen had never seen Allezin so incensed. That killing intent that the man had leveraged against the flying drayavin woman returned. It didn’t have a specific target, but that almost made it worse. Isen found it hard to move under the undirected pressure.

Allezin’s expression softened and the pressure faded. He sighed. “We’re not going far—maybe it’s best you stretch your legs for now instead. Let’s go.”

When they were beyond the walls, Allezin’s pace slowed. He stopped when they came to a small copse of trees far enough away from the ruined town that they couldn’t smell the faint odor of smoke.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

That was unexpected. “For what?”

“For involving you in something beyond your tier.”

Isen brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m used to it. So… that was Welco?”

“Yes. Though I can’t tell if he advanced his Shadow Clones spell—I’ve never spent much time around him.”

“He was waiting for us,” Isen observed.

“Not us specifically, but for anyone who might have investigated the town’s destruction.” Allezin crossed his arms and removed his helmet. He gazed at the star ridden sky. “Lumina has been cagey with me ever since her return. But I think she’s really been that way for a while, and I just never noticed. Never had a reason to notice. How much have we really spoken since we were both tier threes?” He shook his head. “The secrets and lies are so exhausting. Do you know how tempted I am to just follow Welco’s advice? Abandon everyone and leave the rest of the refugees to Lumina’s care? It’s not like they’ll die with her protecting them. They’ll reach Eldrassin.”

Isen listened mutely.

“I know you know more than you let on,” Allezin continued. “Please just answer me honestly. Do you know what this supposed legacy of the queen is?”

“No,” Isen said. A kindling spark overstepped and was devoured by a blistering inferno. “I don’t know what Welco was talking about. But… I have a sense that whatever caused her death was related to her own ambition.”

“Even I could tell you that,” Allezin muttered, “but I appreciate you sharing your insights. I don’t have to tell you to keep what happened here between us, do I?”

“I won’t say anything.” Isen meant it—who would he even tell, Talis? But what would the guard be able to do with the information?

Allezin was right that this was beyond the concern of tier twos.

“What are you planning to do after we reach Eldrassin?” Isen wondered.

“That depends on what we find there. Why?”

“I don’t know anything about the capital, but I need proper armor. Supplies.” He paused. “Training.”

Allezin snorted. “I’m not looking for an apprentice.”

Isen laughed. “You misunderstand. I’ve been guarding the caravan and helping you and the queen. I never asked for anything, and nothing was ever promised to me. But when we reach Eldrassin, I hope you will do your best to assist me, even if you think doing so is beneath you.”

The warrior stared intensely at Isen. “I don’t think it’s beneath me,” he said slowly. “I’ve never gotten the story on how you ended up in the Elven Lands on your own.”

“And I’ve never learned how you came to be the head guard of Shevenar,” Isen retorted.

“Fine,” Allezin said. “Story for a story. I’ll go first.” He pushed off the tree he’d started to lean on and set off at a leisurely pace. “You’ve probably inferred this, but long ago, me and Lumina were part of the same group of tier three explorers. We operated in the Southern Ruins.”

Isen perked up. “Ruins?”

Allezin glanced back. “The Southern Ruins are a forbidden zone, but they’re cordoned off by Mount Barrier and the Finger Peaks.”

Isen had never heard of forbidden zones, though he’d heard of explorers in stories. “What were you looking for?”

“Relics, mostly,” he replied. “Anything tier four we could get our hands on.”

“How was she an explorer?” Isen asked. “Didn’t she need to stay in Eldrassin?”

Allezin smirked. “There was no Eldrassin back then. Everything north of the Highlands of Erakai used to belong to Dray. Lumina only founded the kingdom when she ascended to the rank of divine mage.”

Isen blinked. When he’d heard that elves practically lived forever, and cultivators had elongated lifespans, he’d assumed that there would be kingdoms thousands of years old, rooted in time and place, constants through the ages. Isen didn’t know how old Allezin was—he still wasn’t sure if Allezin was a half elf or not due to his ambiguous features.

“That sounds like a lot of work,” Isen murmured.

“It was, but it’s not uncommon for a divine mage to turn an uncivilized part of the world into their own center of power. Anyway, we knew each other from long ago, and I owed her a favor. That’s how I ended up in Shevenar.” The warrior gestured to Isen. “Your turn.”

“Have you ever heard of Dawnblade?” Isen asked.

“A human kingdom,” Allezin said. “Western continent. Is that where you’re from?”

Isen’s eyes widened. So someone did know about where he was from! “I’m from a border town between Dawnblade and Eboncall in the north. Do you know how far Dawnblade is from Eldrassin?”

“Far,” Allezin stated. “At least a month of travel. The fastest route from here would probably be taking a ship from Shor Mei. That’s assuming you can acquire the services of a wyvern between there and Eldrassin; if you can’t, tack on at least another month. You could maybe do the entire trip in a week if there were also a route between Shor Mei and Dawnblade, but I find that doubtful.”

“Wyvern?”

Allezin raised an eyebrow. “Flying monsters bound by contracts.” He chuckled. “Now, your story. We’ve established that you’re from Dawnblade. How on earth did you get to Shevenar?”

“If you know Dawnblade and Eboncall, have you heard of the Twining?”

Allezin shook his head.

“It’s the line that splits the two kingdoms. A woman from a distant land came to the Twining to concoct a pill. She… succeeded and called down tribulation lightning. The world tore apart. I was sucked into a tear in the world, into the lightless depths filled with monsters.” Isen inhaled. “I eventually found a way out in the mountains near Shevenar.”

“Lightless depths?”

“Have you ever been there?” Isen asked.

“Sounds like a ruin,” Allezin said, massaging his jaw. “Huh.”

“Now we’re even. Don’t forget that you’ve agreed to help me when we reach Eldrassin.”

Allezin seemed to be lost in thought. “Ruins… near Shevenar…”

Isen narrowed his eyes. Did Allezin suspect that the queen knew about the entrance to the depths? It was true that someone had put up a warning flag—a discolored rag adorned with a skull patch—outside the Lift of Legacy, but Isen had found no traces of recent activity in the area. The only sign that anyone else had reached the Compass of Legacy was the moored boat. But why would someone coming from Shevenar, or Eldrassin City, need a boat to approach the black temple? They wouldn’t. So the woman who had controlled the boat to enter the Compass, the woman Isen had seen in his vision, should be from somewhere else.

That still didn’t mean that Lumina Eldrassin hadn’t found the lift, though.

“We should get back,” Allezin announced, rousing Isen from his musings. The teen nodded and jumped onto the warrior’s armored back.

When he thought of the future, the sixth sense only gave him a feeling of foreboding.

Chapter 40. Master and Proxy

The days passed slowly due to the tedium of guarding the procession of refugees, but travel went quickly because they made so few stops, forcing everyone to march on the road longer than on the first part of the trek. The growing unease among the refugees was a double-edged sword. They didn’t protest the faster pace, but there were more incidents.

The agitation of the masses reached its zenith when people recognized just how close they were to Eldrassin City. Isen had the sense that most elves didn’t leave the vicinity of their towns unless escorted by protection details, which could be expensive. There just wasn’t a need. That said, many elves made at least one trip every few years to Eldrassin.

There was much about the Elven Lands that remained a mystery to Isen. Where were their farms, their fields? Why were there so few towns, all spread out? The entire kingdom reminded him of the lands near the Twining, and his initial excitement gave way to disappointment. He’d thought that if everyone had power, they could live freely, unafraid of monsters. Such assumptions were apparently naïve.

When night fell on the last day before reaching Eldrassin, Lumina summoned Isen for a private conversation—their first since leaving Shevenar.

Druinala remained outside Lumina’s tent carrying the queen’s divine flame. Her face was slightly sallow as she greeted him. “Welcome, Isen.”

Isen figured that Druinala had been subsisting off a handful of hours of sleep per night since leaving Shevenar. The queen required her to constantly tend the fire. Allezin only took over watching while Druinala slept, keeping the embers alive by providing dry wood and protection from errant gusts.

“Hello,” he replied. “I did a hundred shots last night, like you instructed. Hit all my targets.” His quarries were the trees close to where they made camp each night. He’d never used a bow before, but the weapon seemed rather straightforward. Aim, draw the arrow back, and release. He figured learning the bow with a tier two physique made things easier since his coordination and strength were heightened.

The elf smiled thinly. “The trees here are rather wide. Not so hard to hit them. Perhaps I can find you a better challenge in Eldrassin City.”

Isen grinned back. “Not just trees. I even shot…” He hesitated, searching for the proper Eldrassin word. “A rabbit?”

She gave him an approving look. “Not bad.” Then she pulled the flap aside for him to enter.

The interior of Lumina’s tent was dim, lit only by a single lantern. When Isen stepped inside, suddenly the tent became awash in pale light. Lumina was practically glowing, the chain mail dress glistening in the light. She wore a pleasant smile as she mentally addressed him. “There are two matters I want to discuss. First—when we enter Eldrassin tomorrow, I want you to attend me.”

Isen had half expected this, though this first matter wasn’t significant enough for Lumina to call him in alone. “What does that involve?”

“Allezin will lead the refugees into the city. I will move separately from him, indistinguishable from the others. We will move with the original merchant caravan that this girl, Mira, came with. We will find lodging. You will come with us.”

“Then what?”

Lumina smirked. “So blunt. That depends on the state of the city.” She paused. “Now, for the second matter… I should have addressed this earlier.”

Isen felt oddly jittery.

“Do you know what I intend to ask you?”

Isen imagined the bright light scouring all falsehoods from existence, leaving no room for darkness or shadows. He swallowed. “I presume… it’s about our connection. How we can talk to each other like this.”

Her smile was more of a mask than a true reflection of her emotions. “Smart boy.” She waved her hand and the brightness faded. She held her fingers over the lantern, and they cast shadows on the tent wall. Soon, the shadows morphed, forming a rough façade of the dark temple—the Compass of Legacy. A tower even extended up from it, fading into the corner of the tent.

“Have you heard of the Goddess Legacy?” she asked.

His heart nearly skipped a beat. It seemed that Allezin’s hunch was correct. Isen had to admit it made sense—how could a powerful tier four not know about the entrance to the lightless depths in her domain?  For her to conjure the image of the Compass of Legacy, Isen figured she must have entered it.

What Isen didn’t know was whether simply entering the Compass of Legacy was sufficient to become one of its bearers—a recipient of Legacy’s blessing. When he’d reached the end of the trial, the Compass of Legacy had told him the story of the end of an era and Legacy’s fate—how splinters of her divinity were the only things to survive the Annihilation of her world. It had told him how the Compass was born from Legacy’s unending torment.

And then it had given him a choice: to accept the burden of Legacy, or to walk away. He’d chosen the burden.

If Lumina entered the Compass of Legacy, saw the same vision, and received the same question, Isen didn’t think she’d choose differently from him. So… did that mean she was a bearer of Legacy, too?

What is the queen expecting me to say? Isen wondered. If it’s as Talis said, and she’s focused on staying alive, she must be obsessed with understanding the mechanics of her resurrection.

If Lumina learned that she was only resurrected because Isen accepted a prompt from Legacy, he didn’t think that she’d just let him go. Ever since coming back, she’d monopolized Druinala to preserve the blue-green flame from her funeral pyre. At least Druinala’s service had an end date. When they reached Eldrassin City and the queen found another mage with a fire affinity, the archer would be free.

So far, almost everyone he’d seen in Eldrassin was a half elf, but supposedly the capital had far more pure elves—and by extension, many more mages. A fire mage might not be common, but they wouldn’t be rare.

Those who bore the burden of Legacy, however… Well, Isen didn’t know how rare they were. But the Compass of Legacy’s location clearly wasn’t common knowledge. Even if its location was known to strong tier three cultivators and mages, and they braved the way to the imposing black structure, Isen couldn’t forget the vision he’d seen of the woman who entered the Compass of Legacy and never returned. He couldn’t forget what might have happened to Ros.

The possibility of the Compass being a death trap might explain why its location wasn’t disseminated.

These thoughts left Isen with one conclusion: for now, he shouldn’t let Lumina Eldrassin know that he was a bearer of Legacy. But how should he explain the mental connection? His mind raced to find a way to spin the conversation to serve his goals.

“The Goddess Legacy… I have heard of her, from my master.”

Lumina didn’t say anything, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I spent a year in the lightless depths accompanying my master in seeking places of power,” Isen said. “We came upon a dark temple surrounded by golden water. Outside was the icon of a book hugging a flame.”

Her facial expression remained unchanged. “Did you enter the building?”

“My master did. Master was at the peak of tier three.”

“Did you enter?”

Isen knew the best trick to lying was to avoid lying directly.  “I tried to, though I only ended up in a dark place, separated from my master, before being deposited on the roof of the structure.”

“Boy, you’ve spoken cryptically, but I sense a single blood bond between you and a living monster, and it’s a tier three. Is that your master?”

Isen nearly lost his composure. Ros was alive? How did she even know when Isen couldn’t sense the blood bond? He knew the tier four queen was weakened since resurrecting in Mira’s body, but maybe she retained some strange magics that allowed her to do things beyond Isen’s imagination. It was the only explanation that made sense.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Suddenly, the shadows winked out and blinding light consumed the room once more. “I think that there may be a connection between your master and I, and that you are currently serving as a proxy. Where is your master now?”

“Still in the depths.”

“Very interesting.” She giggled. “Sorry to seem so serious. How would you feel about finding your master once I settle things in the city?”

The taste of opportunity mixed with foreboding. “I would look forward to it.”

“Good. Gods, when we reach the city… The first thing I’ll enjoy is a proper shower. And maybe a set of proper armor.” She snickered. “I’m glad that nothing terrible has befallen us on this trip and put our leatherworking craftsmanship to the test.”

Isen just smiled and nodded.

“You may go.”

Only as the flap closed behind him did Isen’s heart begin to settle.

Chapter 41. Journey’s End

“Eldrassin is an hour out,” Allezin announced, projecting his voice over the procession. Even then, it was hard to hear him over the chatter, but the news spread outward in a wave.

To Isen’s eyes, Eldrassin city was barely visible. He squinted, trying to make out any details, when Talis walked over. The half elf should’ve been manning his post, but this close to the city, and with guards stationed around the periphery, the danger was nonexistent.

“What do you think?” Talis asked, gesturing to the distant smudge.

“I can’t see much,” Isen confessed.

“You should be able to see the city clearly from here, at your level.” He tapped his lip. “You spent the last year as a cultivator in darkness, right? That might be to blame. You didn’t heighten your visual acuity.”

Isen didn’t like hearing that his eyesight was poor. “What should I do to see better?”

He had meridians in his face, but none of them went directly to his eyes. He didn’t even know what sending refined energy to his eyes would do. Isen knew that people and animals could move because of the muscles in their bodies pushing and pulling on the skeleton, and he knew what his heart, lungs, and stomach did. But everything in his head—his brain, his eyes, his ears, and nose—didn’t move. They didn’t really seem to do anything. They just were.

Talis shrugged. “It should happen naturally over time as you temper your body and observe the world. That’s not why I came over, though. I wanted to set your expectations for Eldrassin City.” He paused. “I don’t want to make any assumptions. Have you ever been to a proper city before?”

Isen hesitated, then shook his head.

Talis sighed. “Why am I not surprised? That’s probably for the best, though—you’ll come in without expectations. Eldrassin is a tiered city. The primary level where we’ll enter is for tier twos. The upper level is for tier threes. The lower level is for tier ones and anyone who isn’t a cultivator or mage.”

“How will that work if we’re tier twos but the merchants we’re traveling with are tier one?”

“It’s not a rigid system. There’s flow between all the levels—though mostly between the primary and lower ones. The main requirement to reside permanently in a specific level is for the head of household to be of the required tier.”

“So… the upper level might have a lot of lower tiered people all within the ‘household’ of a single tier three?” Isen reasoned.

Talis smiled. “Exactly. Tier threes that have settled in Eldrassin should have large compounds in the upper level. For short term stays, people can choose to stay in any of the levels, though the cost for the upper level is typically exorbitant.”

“Where will we be staying?”

“The primary level.”

So the level for tier twos. Isen didn’t question it. “Is there anything else I should know?” The tier system seemed straightforward enough.

“Don’t wear your helmet in the city, it looks silly, but you should still try to cover your ears. It’ll draw less attention for you to pass as a half-elf, especially since you’re tier two.”

“I thought there would be humans here,” Isen said. He’d been looking forward to seeing people like himself. What were humans even like this far from Dawnbreak? He wondered if humans from the Elven Lands had ever been part of the caravans that passed through Goldbounty.

“There are humans here, but they tend to keep to themselves. They live in enclaves, and most of them aren’t tier two, if they’re even cultivators at all. If you’re going with us, you’re best off passing as an elf.”

Isen wasn’t opposed to it—Talis had mentioned something about getting a cloak to hide his ears when they’d first entered Shevenar, not that they’d had the time to buy one with the drayavin attack. He still thought he’d give himself away the second he opened his mouth.

“Fine,” Isen agreed.

Talis gave him a small smile, then opened up a small satchel on his belt. He withdrew a plain, thin scarf, black with golden embroidered details.

Isen didn’t ask where he got it—it was almost certainly looted. He took it and rubbed his fingers over the fabric. It felt like linen, cool and breathable. He tried to tie it around his head, but evidently he did a poor job. Talis chuckled and tied the scarf, first folding it in half and then wrapping it over Isen’s forehead and around to his nape. Sure enough, it covered the tips of his ears.

“Won’t my ears still look oddly short?” Isen asked. Half elf ears extended at least half an inch longer than a typical human ear.

“It’ll be fine. When people notice your tier, they won’t question it.”

“And… how would they notice it?” Isen wondered, confused. “It’s not like I’ll be broadcasting it.”

“You’ll see when we get there.” Talis waved and returned to watching over his part of the procession.

A few minutes later, a group of four riders from Eldrassin approached on the fastest horses Isen had ever seen. The beasts blazed over the road, their strides long and powerful, their heads narrow, with ears tucked back over their skulls. Were they even horses? They had long, supple legs and hooves, but they looked like they had smooth, furless skin beneath the ornate textiles that draped over their sides beneath their saddles. They still had hair—their deep violet manes were braided with pink flowers, and their tails trailed out behind them like the eddies of the night sky, dark and rippling, untamed.

Their riders were dressed in black lacquered armor with white accents. They wore dark tabards with the icon of a swooping, four-pointed white star. On their breasts, each wore a small pin that Isen could just barely make out at a distance since they glinted in the sunlight.

Allezin intercepted them, suddenly appearing at the head of the procession. Isen wasn’t close enough to hear what he said, but three riders stayed with the procession as escorts, while the fourth returned to the city.

The walls of Eldrassin City were like earthen cliffs but filed to an immaculately smooth finish of pure white. The gates—a tall half-circle cut down the middle—had been carved into the base where the road met the city. They were held ajar for travelers to enter.

When the refugees saw the gates, they lost their godsdamned minds.

Nervous and excited chattering gave way to ferocious cries and wails, shouting and clamoring. They needed to get into the city, now. It was a chaotic mess. Order broke down before the elvish stampede as seemingly everyone able bodied and without encumbrances ran ahead. The four escorts on horseback seemed taken aback and sped up to keep abreast of the procession. Allezin disappeared in the tumult.

Isen abandoned his post without any guilt. He’d helped escort the refugees across the kingdom of Eldrassin because the people had needed him, even if they groused under his watch. Now that they’d arrived at their destination, he was happy to relinquish the responsibility.

He found Talis, who seemed to share a similar opinion, and together they tracked down Lumina Eldrassin and Druinala, who were with the merchant caravan that Talis and Druinala were still technically paid to escort. Since the survivors of the caravan had to tow the salvaged carts themselves, they were near the rear of the procession.

It was better that way—Isen didn’t have to worry about anyone getting trampled. Consequently, they were some of the last to join the line outside the gate. Thousands of refugees needed to be processed—Isen figured it would take a while.

He sighed and lifted his eyes to the blue sky, thankful for the continued good weather. Inside, his stomach churned with uncertainty. Lumina Eldrassin had plans, ones that he wasn’t privy to, but he could potentially leverage his connection with her to find Ros.

He wasn’t stupid—even if he could sense the bond between him and Ros, going into the depths, at least through the Lift of Legacy and across golden lake, was suicidal for a tier two. He needed higher tiered support. And even if Lumina wasn’t close to her original level as a tier four, she was still quite powerful.

Then there was the mystery of what was going on in Eldrassin in the wake of the queen’s death. It wasn’t Isen’s duty to find out what force was leaving a path of destruction over the land, be it the forces of Dray or an elf like Welco the Haunt. He had no allegiance to the Elven Lands.

But he also couldn’t wipe the scenes of destruction from his mind. He wanted to know why the deaths of so many civilians had happened. He’d peeked behind the curtain when he’d followed Allezin, and he wanted to learn as much as he could while the sixth sense indicated he wasn’t in imminent danger.

“Your scarf looks nice,” Druinala said in Eldrassin, interrupting his musings.

He stared at her blankly. “Thank you.”

She turned to Talis. “His accent really isn’t half bad. Sounds almost Erakaian.”

Isen shifted. “I still have trouble when people talk quickly.”

“Not that much trouble,” Talis said. “Don’t tell anyone you only started learning elvish a week ago.”

“Why?”

The half elf scoffed. “Because, they’ll be calling me and Druinala the best teachers in the Elven Lands! We don’t need that kind of attention.”

Isen bit his lip, smiling. “Mira also helped.” They’d taken to calling the queen by her vessel’s name in public settings.

The girl just raised an eyebrow and gave a light shake of her head. “I can see why a tier three monster decided to keep you, rather than leave you to your fate,” she told Isen privately.

That was when two of the merchants from the caravan approached, a man and a woman that Isen vaguely recognized as leadership figures in the much-reduced group. The man cleared his throat. “Druinala, Talis, do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” Talis said. They were all speaking elvish, but the half elf merchants spoke slowly enough that Isen could follow. The grammatical structure of elvish wasn’t too similar to the common human language, but he could translate most of what they said.

“As we understand it, you and Druinala will continue with us while the… issue with Mira is sorted out. I wanted to talk about what comes after that.” He rubbed his hands together. “We are soralanon to both of you for your assistance over the past week, and for the months before then while we traveled. You went beyond any expectations we had.”

Talis held out a hand. “It’s fine, Verik. I understand the situation. You’ll be joining another, larger caravan, rather than going alone, as you had in the past. As such, you won’t need to pay for your own protection.” He nodded. “You won’t need to continue paying for us. It’s business.”

“We had a contract for half a year,” the woman stated, crossing her arms. “We can give you some recompense for canceling early…”

Talis stopped her. “We refuse.” He glanced at Druinala. The elf nodded, her green eyes inscrutable. “We can find other work. All I can say is, I’m sorry this trip ended in such disaster.” His voice trembled on the last word. He thrust his hand forward, then shook hands with the two merchants. Druinala didn’t shake their hands, but she gave each a nod.

When they left, Talis turned away and rubbed at his eyes. Druinala’s expression remained unchanged.

“What’s soralanon?” Isen asked.

Talis usually answered such questions, but it was Druinala who spoke. “When someone has done something for you that cannot be paid back, and they do it without any expectations of repayment, how you feel… is soralanon.” She paused. “It is an important word to elves, never to be used lightly.”

It sounded like indebted, but with a much greater gravity. It resonated with Isen. It was how he felt about Ros.

I’ll find him again, no matter what it takes.

Chapter 42. Eldrassin City

They made small talk until they reached the gates.

Despite the chaos of processing thousands of refugees, the gates seemed well-ordered. There were five gate guards. Up close, Isen could tell that they were all true elves by their long ears and gem-bright eyes. What kind of place has mages as gate guards? he wondered. They didn’t seem particularly exhausted despite the huge volume of people. Maybe they had recently swapped with another guard group.

One sat at a table, two stood with batons in hand, and the last two each held a needle in one hand and a shallow bowl of water in the other. Isen figured they must be magical items, though didn’t have any idea what they could be. The line of refugees had been thick, and he was shorter than the average adult due to his age, so he hadn’t seen the guards at work until it was their turn to be processed.

Everyone in their group, including the merchants, seemed content to let Talis do the talking. They were too exhausted to care at this point. Talis and the guards talked so fast that Isen caught every other word at best, and there were a few words thrown in that were foreign to him.

He was caught off guard when Talis called him up. “It’s his first time in a large city,” Talis explained. “Process me first, so he knows what to expect.”

One of the guards, a blonde elf with broad lips and a slightly upturned nose, held her needle toward Talis. The warrior pulled his sleeve back and she stuck the needle in just behind his wrist. She withdrew it with a sinuous motion and dipped it in the dish of water. The blood eddied in the liquid; Isen didn’t notice anything peculiar about it.

“Tier two,” the woman suddenly announced. The guard sitting at the small table withdrew a small pin from a simple lockbox. He waved his hand over it, then flicked it toward Talis. The pin flew slowly and in an irregular trajectory, as though carried by someone invisible rather than thrown. It skimmed across the dish of water with Talis’s blood, where it glowed for a moment. Then, it flew out of the water to Talis.

The half elf warrior snatched it out of the air and nodded to Isen. “Your turn.” The small prick on his wrist had already stopped bleeding.

Isen unfastened his left vambrace while the blonde elf tossed out the dish’s bloodied water into a grate and summoned a globe of water. She tossed the needle and dish into the globe, and used her hands to work the watery orb, the two instruments sloshing around. In the meantime, the other guard with the needle worked on Druinala. There seemed to be some commotion related to why Druinala insisted on keeping a flame on her shoulder, but the elf looked like she had the situation handled.

The blonde elf retrieved her instruments, then sent the globe of water down the drain and refilled the bowl of water with fresh liquid. She positioned the needle over Isen’s arm and smiled encouragingly, like she was trying too hard. “You must have been brave to make it all this way.”

Isen just stared at her.

She smiled even harder in response. “Ready?”

Isen nodded. She acted without hesitation, plunging the needle down. It was oddly warm as it sank into his skin. Isen barely felt the prick—the tip was thin and sharp enough to pass through tier two skin without any resistance.

He brought his wrist to his mouth and sucked at the bead of blood that welled up while the blonde elf dipped the needle in the dish. She took slightly longer interpreting the result than Talis. After a few seconds, she looked at him, her smile gone. She appeared contemplative. “Tier two.”

Like the others, he received a pin, and he looked to Talis and Druinala to see where he was supposed to put it. Talis attached his to his breast, Druinala on her shoulder. Isen fastened his on the collar of his red silk tunic, where it stuck out from his leather armor.

The elven guards needed to test everyone, even the tier ones. Isen was surprised the guards had processed the line as fast as they had. Perhaps they’d had more than five earlier, when the line had been at its longest.

“What are the pins for?” Isen mentally asked Lumina.

“Keeping peace in a city of cultivators and mages is difficult,” she replied, not yet answering the question. “Especially when people have variable levels of strength. What happens when a tier one fights with a tier two? A tier three?”

“The pins are supposed to stop that?” Isen asked.

“No. A tier one knows better than to fight a tier three—that is just the way of things. The pins are to prevent people from taking advantage of power hierarchy through deception. People pretending to be lower tier than they are, and the reverse, are problematic.”

“What’s to stop me from taking off my pin and pretending to be a tier one?” Isen asked. The tier ones and non-cultivators didn’t get pins at all.

“As a visitor, if you’re not wearing the pin for more than four hours, the police will be notified and dispatched. The limit is twelve hours for residents of Eldrassin.”

Isen didn’t know what ‘police’ meant but didn’t want to derail the conversation. “How does anybody know if I’m wearing it?” If they could tell if he was wearing the pin or not, what else would they be able to do? Could they track where he was? He didn’t have plans to do anything uncouth—he wasn’t a street urchin anymore—but he’d possibly be following Allezin to meet with Welco…

“It’s really quite simple, though most people don’t know and don’t care. There’s a sensor in the pin that’s sensitive to light, and another one that senses proximity from the being whose blood it’s been tied to. You must wear the pin, and it must be exposed to the light, so that people can see it. Someone else cannot wear it for you.”

Countless “what-if” questions ran through Isen’s head, but he held himself back from asking them. He figured simple inquiries like, “what happens if someone sleeps unclothed, and takes the pin off?” had answers. The elves had millennia to figure out the pin system, and unless they wanted to be bombarded by constant false alarms, they must have figured out most common situations.

“So… they can’t track where people are?”

“I never said that,” she replied. She glanced Isen’s way and flashed him a mischievous smile. “Some people think they can, and we’ve never denied it. But no, the tier two pins can’t track anyone. The tier three pins, on the other hand…”

That would be an Allezin problem, then. Isen put concern for himself from his mind. The idea of the city watching him, knowing where he was… He was surprised that tier threes would subject themselves to that. It was such an overt method of control. Lumina Eldrassin’s little leashes on her tier three vassals.

“Are other elven cities like this? Shor Mei?”

“All have their own systems of keeping peace between those of different power. Shor Mei uses a much looser system, but they can afford to with the size of their police force.”

The conversation cut off when Lumina’s blood was tested. She was marked as a tier one.

It was support for Isen’s growing theory that Lumina, as a mage, couldn’t increase her vessel’s power. Physically, her host, Mira, was just a half elf girl, probably a cultivator at the very bottom of tier one. It was more of a miracle that Lumina could use any of her power at all within such a weak vessel.

Once their group finished the testing, Talis and Druinala led them through the gate. The white walls were thicker than Isen expected, the passage between the gate and the city a veritable tunnel. The tunnel sloped downward, into the earth, though it wasn’t so severe that the wagons became unmanageable. Soon, Isen could hear an unfamiliar noise, almost like a rumbling storm.

When they emerged, Isen was blinded for a second before his eyes adjusted and took in the scene. They had emerged on a broad outcrop of earth lined by tan tiles. About forty feet below them, a bridge with four lanes, each broad enough for standard wagons, stretched across a chasm. From their viewing angle, Isen couldn’t see the bottom.

He glanced behind and saw a broad cliff that stretched far to the left and right, curving around to encompass the city. The tunnel they’d emerged from was insignificant before the scale of the mountains.

Isen returned his gaze to the front. On the other side of the bridge lay a dense collection of buildings, their walls almost universally blinding white or light tan, with clay roof tiles. Unlike the elegant, sloping roofs of the other elven villages, the roofs in Eldrassin City were flat and plain, extremely practical. It made sense when they were pressed so close together.

He looked to the right and noticed another tunnel bored into a section of the canyon walls that led to another bridge, connecting to another part of the city. More than one gate, then.

He wasn’t sure how they were supposed to reach the bridge from their elevated platform, but nobody seemed worried. Talis simply led everyone forward and waited at the platform’s edge. Isen joined him and looked down.

The view was stunning.

The pale rock plunged into a mist-filled gorge. A ferocious river flowed downstream over the rocks and then fell off the edge, plummeting into a distant lake and churning up white froth. Isen just stared, uncomprehending.

Talis nudged him. “First waterfall?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t the falls that left him speechless—it was the power of the water. Goldbounty didn’t have anything like this roaring river. The depths didn’t either. The radiant lake was fairly calm. Isen had passed by small rivers and streams in Eldrassin, but nothing like this. One of Lady Jin’s books had talked about erosion, the process by which water carved rock. He hadn’t understood the concept until now.

“The lift’s coming,” Talis called out. “Wagons to the front.”

Isen flinched, then saw what Talis was talking about. A wide rectangle next to the rock was ascending their way. Two elves stood on the sides and made gestures with their arms, as though pulling on a rope. A minute later, the platform arrived. It was simple, adorned only by the icon of a four pointed star at the center of the floor tiles.

One of the elves stepped forward, a man in a black tunic and pants, wearing the same tabard as all the other guards Isen had seen—black with Eldrassin’s star at the center. His long ears and bright green eyes marked him as a true elf.

“Two wagons, easy enough. You part of the group from Shevenar?” He had a heavy accent, but the words were obvious based on context.

“We are,” Talis confirmed.

“Free passage then.” The elf waved. “Get on.”

In the name of expediency, Isen, Talis, and Druinala helped the merchants to push the wagons onto the platform. To Isen’s surprise, the elf who remained close to the guard rails—a woman with long black hair and orange eyes—turned and made a pushing motion. The platform began to expand, widening to better fit the two wagons and the group of eighteen. Even the rails lengthened to fit the new shape.

Isen had never seen so much utility magic in such a short span of time. It was amazing.

Once everyone had gathered onto the platform, the elves in black tabards nodded and made the pulling motion from before.

The platform slid down in a controlled descent. Isen’s stomach lurched. Several tier one merchants looked unwell, especially those that insisted on peering over the edge. Isen thought he’d be in similar condition if not for his tempered body.

The platform touched down and they were ushered off. A short walk ahead of them lay the bridge Isen had seen from above, the one that stretched over the chasm into the city. Talis led them across, their group taking up both lanes leading forward. The lanes headed back were empty; it seemed that nobody was leaving.

Given the danger beyond the walls, Isen wasn’t surprised.

The bridge was longer than it had appeared at a distance. As the group walked across, Talis, Druinala, and Lumina Eldrassin remained at the front; Isen was sent to the back to ensure nobody fell behind. Relatively alone, he reflected on the city’s design.

Lumina had established Eldrassin City inside a huge canyon. It was an odd choice, Isen thought. He’d never heard of a city sunken into the earth. To invade, a force had to scale the imposing walls—which extended over the natural height of the canyon—and then survive the precipitous drop on the other side. Then they’d need to make their way to the city proper without the use of mage-powered lifts or the bridges—Isen assumed those could be destroyed or retracted if Eldrassin were besieged.

It felt like a city built for war.

When they finally crossed the entirety of the bridge, Isen was brimming with anticipation. He couldn’t see well from the back. The bridge tiles—clean, square, with almost nonexistent seams—continued into the city, lining the corridor that Talis and Druinala lead the group through. Isen's gaze was everywhere as they squeezed through the congested street. Their two wagons were a bit irregular—the area was dominated by pedestrians—so most gave their group a wide berth.

It might also be because we stink, Isen thought. Isen had never seen people who were, universally, so clean. Everywhere he looked, he saw people with white teeth, clothes that looked just washed, and spotless shoes. Was the city covered in a forever-clean spell? Did such a thing exist? Or was this just what the primary district was like since most tier twos lived there? Maybe they all lived in buildings with refilling water buckets and plentiful soap. Isen didn’t dare hope that they might have bathing facilities to rival those he’d enjoyed in the sanctum.

Isen still couldn’t read elven sigils, so the signs on the buildings were a mystery to him. He did recognize the numbers written on the buildings, though—the common tongue shared the numeric system with the elves. He had no idea what they were for, though. Perhaps to make it easier to find certain buildings or shops within the larger city? They did have a logic to them, decreasing the further they walked into the city. When Talis finally turned off the street they’d started on, the numbers jumped.

It took over an hour for them to reach their destination—a large compound at the end of a side street. There was nothing behind it aside from pale rock. Elegant columns framed the entrance, a tan wooden façade with bright red doors.

Isen exhaled.

Finally.

Their journey was over.

So why did it feel like the trials had just begun?

[ This city pic is not 100% accurate but it gets the vibe across. ]