The two were wrapped in such fashion because underneath the blankets they wore the Amaranth armor. Fearful of the eyes of the Ockham locals, they wanted no part of being seen wearing the armor. So instead, they suffered the midday summer heat wrapped in wool blankets. They sweated profusely.
The gate guards bid them farewell with more enthusiasm than they’d greeted them with the night prior, and the twins made their way to the platform. Two artificers were on the raised stone platform, taking tickets and managing the handful of people getting on the train. At each end of the train and spread along its length on the ground were numerous Guild warriors. Like their grey robed leaders the security forces wore light plate armor fashioned from steel, and enameled in the same shade of grey as the robes of the Guild. The Artificers employed hundreds upon hundreds of warriors to ride with the trains as they crossed the wild expanses between towns, villages, and cities. It looked to Umaryn that only five people would be boarding train, including them. Bramwell and Tinder were hitched off the platform near a ramp that led up to the freight car they’d be riding in. The brother and sister went up to the artificer taking the tickets so as to board the train.
The man taking the tickets was tall, a full hand higher than the duo. He was thin, and wore the grey hooded robe of the Artificer Guild. Malwynn felt a little nervous as he looked at the blood red trim that advertised to all those gathered that this man could wield The Way. Mal was afraid to lie suddenly.
“Sir, we’ve tickets for the midday Graben departure,” Malwynn said, handing the tall man the scripts of paper detailing the conditions of their journey.
The tall man had short, well trimmed bright blonde hair, and eyes almost as bright blue as theirs. He scanned the two slips and started shaking his head negatively, “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to ride with your animals. That’s against Guild policies.”
The twins looked at him incredulously. Their bad fortune seemed never ending. Just as they were about to let in on a tirade to save their trip, the tall blonde Artificer added to the conversation.
“The passenger cars are nearly empty today. I can simply allow you to ride with the passengers. When we arrive at the Graben rail yard, you can leave the train and clean the car, as per your agreement with the station here. I hope that’s acceptable.” The Artificer watched as their expressions changed from exasperation to gratefulness.
Umaryn nearly embraced the man, “Oh that’ll be fine sir. Sorry for our response, we’ve had a quite difficult week, and we thought you were about to make it much worse.”
He nodded, seemingly understanding, “The Guild made an agreement with you to ride this train. We’ll honor that agreement, though clearly not in the way you’d expected. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”
“It’s alright. Quite fine really,” Malwynn said.
The blonde Artificer smiled again, “Enjoy your trip. Despite what everyone says, the trip north to Graben can be very breathtaking.”
The twins nodded, gathered what they needed from the saddle bags of their mounts, and boarded the trains, still wrapped in their blankets, and still sweating heavily in the north Varrland sun.
Once inside the train they shed the blankets. Normally leather armor is uncomfortably warm when the weather is hot, but removing the blankets made both of them feel as if they were running practically naked through their parent’s backyard. Air flowed into the seams and sleeves of the leather and allowed their skin to breathe once more.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Umaryn looked back and forth to the two passenger cars they had to choose from, “Which one?”
“Um, this one I suppose,” Malwynn chose at random, and the two slid open the finely crafted car door. After they walked by the lone grey guard inside the door, they assessed where to sit.
The car was long, likely fifty feet from where they stood to the front door that led to the locomotive powering the train. The seats and couches were old plush leather dyed a rich green, and the woodwork a rich cherry. Inlaid into the fine carvings were intricate laces of brass and tin, giving the compartment an ancient, and classy feel. Umaryn wondered if this was one of the rail cars that pre-dated The Fall.
The seats were arranged in two sections. Running the entire length of all four sides of the car were the green leather seats. In the center of the car, cutting the compartment in half were two more seats, almost creating two entirely separate areas to sit in. The closest section of seats had six souls resting in it. At first glance it looked to be two families, both reasonably well-to-do, and both with a single younger child. Alone in the far end of the other section of seats sat a lone, tall figure.
Almost alone, that is.
The tall figure was garbed head to toe in a rich purple hooded robe that obscured his face. His hands were deathly white and the skin tight and shrunken. His nails were vaguely yellowed and a bit too long, giving them a sinister appearance. Sitting to his left and right were two zombies.
The undead were both large males wearing simple trousers and plain white shirts. Their flesh was grey and sunken, the rot of death arrested through The Way. Both wore no signs of a violent death, though they were both in their prime. Malwynn and Umaryn each felt their stomachs twist and churn looking at the drained expressions on the faces of the deceased men. Sitting just a few feet away was pure heresy against the ancestors. Around their necks they wore purple ribbons that supported a purple medallion, signifying that they were undead in the service of the Purple Queen. That could only mean in some fashion that the purple robed man directly served the Queen.
Malwynn debated where to sit in an instant. If they crowded into the nearest section with the two families, the entire journey would be cramped and uncomfortable. They would also be tipping their hat to the robed man that they were potentially afraid to sit near him. Malwynn felt the best course of action was to appear confident, and wear their armor like a soldier of the Amaranth Empire would, and sit near the man who they so badly wanted to stay away from.
Malwynn walked past the families, Umaryn at his side with purpose, intentionally seeming disrespectful to their presence. Not one of the six family members looked up to make eye contact as they passed. He reached the two green leather couches that sperated the train’s space and addressed the robed figure sitting at the end of the train, “Sir is this seat taken?”
Malwynn’s heart froze solid when the hood of the purple man titled up ever so slightly, allowing the eyes covered in shadow underneath enough of an angle to look directly at him. Malwynn couldn’t see the face of the figure through the blackness, but he heard the voice loud and clear, “No. Please rest soldier.”
The voice was chilling. The tone was low, and sounded as if it began deep in the belly of the man inside the robe, and rattled upwards and out, wheezing through a missing nose in a baritone that seemed to emanate from beyond death. It also had a strange whimsical quality to it, striking Malwynn in a way he couldn’t describe. Both he and his sister kept their faces stone-like, and took up seats on either side of the rail car.
It would be a very long seven hour trip.
The man on the platform had exaggerated the beauty of the Amaranth Empire’s terrain greatly. Looking out of the windows in their rail car the only thing they saw for the first four hours of the train ride was flatness. Impossible flatness as far as the eye could see. The only hint of a change in the world was the faint irregularity of hills or mountains far to the north, very far away. As the afternoon began to wane and the sun dipped down close to the horizon the clouds darkened, and thickened. It seemed to Umaryn that the world had been split in two; the flat ground on the bottom, and the dark grey rolling bulges of a storm head moving to the southeast above. She wondered if the storms had anything to do with the presence of such evil in the Amaranth Empire.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the Snake Ridge Mountains again. It’s been many weeks since I’ve laid eyes on them,” the purple robed man said unexpectedly. The hair on the back of her n
eck stood on end at the low raspy voice. Umaryn looked across the car to Malwynn, seeking his support, but his head had tipped back, and he had drifted into deep sleep. She was on her own for this exchange.
“Couldn’t agree more,” she said confidently.
“What’s your name soldier?” He asked her.
She couldn’t think of a reason not to offer her real name, “Umaryn sir.”
“No last name Umaryn? Strange.” The robed man uncrossed and re-crossed his legs. She watched as his fine black leather boots slid in graceful movement. It didn’t help his aura of fear any, she thought.
She nodded, as if she’d heard that before. She had. “Our father said taking his last name was a disrespect to our mother, and that it would be better for our personal legacies if we earned a last name from those we encountered.”
“Our father you say? The other soldier is your brother then? I suspected as much, the family resemblance is there.”
Umaryn felt her worry creep slightly higher again. She did not want this man to know Malwynn was her brother. Unfortunately, the man had already devoured any chance she had at maintaining that secret, “Yes. His name is Malwynn.”
“Malwynn and Umaryn the soldiers. Interesting that your mother and father would allow both their children to join the Queen’s army. Most parents only allow a single child to join. Did your parents not care for you as much as other parents do?” The robed man asked her in a tone that nearly caused anger in her. He was baiting her, testing her patience and self control. She didn’t fall for the trap.
“We are two of three children. Our parents needed the income both my brother and I working provided. This is our way of helping to pay them back.” Her words were the truth. In New Picknell both she and Malwynn worked to help support the family.
“Ah. Duty to family. Something I haven’t experienced in some time. I focus on my duty to the Queen now.” He said, sounding somewhat judgmental. Umaryn felt her story had convinced him. She remained silent, hoping the man would leave her be.
“You’re from Graben then?” He said. Her hopes of being left alone were dashed.
“Only just recently. My brother and I actually hail from a very tiny village near the border with Varrland. We’ve just visited home, that’s why we’re heading back to Graben.” Umaryn felt a surge of confidence. She had no idea she could lie so easily to someone so dangerous.
“Small village life seems so pointless. I maintain that the military should just roll up all of these little villages and bring them to Graben. Keep all the populace in one place that’s easy to control. Does your village produce anything of value Umaryn? What validates its existence?” The thin figure leaned in towards her in an inquisitive way, clearly wanting to hear someone he deemed as lesser than he share logic.
Umaryn wasn’t sure if she should agree with him, or argue her point. She was swimming in dangerous waters. “Well sir, I don’t know what someone of your station would deem valuable. We don’t mine, nor do we produce lumber, but we do have multiple farms that produce a fair share of food. We grow more food than we eat, and we send our surplus to the Queen. I imagine the Queen’s army appreciates eating meals.”
He sat back in the plush green leather couch and chewed on her words, “I imagine they do appreciate eating. Of course we could simply kill them and reanimate them all as undead. Then we’d need no food at all.”
“We’d still need to replace their losses in battle. That means having babies, and growing them up to adults. There will always be a need for farms and food in the Empire sir. No amount of Necromancy can change that, no disrespect intended.”
The robed figure chuckled evilly, “None taken Umaryn with no-last-name. I enjoy your wit and intelligence. I suspect you’ll rise through the ranks of the Queen’s army readily.”
“Thank you sir.” She tipped her head in deference, and appreciation. She was strangely flattered by the scary figure’s compliment.
The robed figure went silent for a time.
When Malwynn awoke some time later, the train was running along the foothills of the Snake Ridge Mountains. Amaranth was a wide nation, many thousands of miles across from east to west. It was cut into three pieces by two large mountain ranges. The eastern mountain range, nearest to the Realm of Duulan was called the Giant’s Back Mountains. Ellioth had told his children that the summits along the Giant’s Back were the highest peaks in all of Elmoryn.
The Snake Ridge Mountains were nowhere near as tall, though they were much longer. It would be a very long trip indeed to span the length of the spine of the range, and the city they were headed towards was perched against the cliffs running alongside of them. The rails heading towards Graben were less than two miles from the edge of the mountains, and the location offered a view of the mountains that lived up to the Artificer’s claims. This was a natural beauty that neither Malwynn nor Umaryn had ever set eyes upon.
“The majesty of the Snake Ridge Mountains Malwynn,” the robed figure said menacingly. Malwynn sat up abruptly, unaware he was being watched. His mind raced trying to figure out how the daemon at the end of the car knew his name. His question was answered with a wave of the eerie figure’s hand. He pointed a bony finger at Umaryn, answering his question. She shrugged ever so slightly, trying to convey the entire conversation he’d slept through.
“Yes. They’re quite the thing.” Malwynn struggled to gather his wits. He’d only been awake a few seconds, and wasn’t prepared to have a conversation with someone so alien, so… un-preferable.
“Your sister here says you hail from a small town. How has life in Graben treated you? Quite the change from small village life, yes?” Malwynn felt the questions were heavier than the words used to compose them revealed. He was skeptical of what the man was actually asking.
“Oh, it’s different, that’s for sure. However, we’re kept busy, and there’s little time to dwell on silly things.”
Malwynn could swear the figure smiled under his black hood, “True words.”
Malwynn formulated a plan, and after a minute of watching the ridges and crests of the massive mountain chain pass, he launched his first question at the spooky passenger, “Might I ask your name my lord? You appear to know mine.”
The hood moved slightly, indicating a nod, “Your sister was polite enough not to ask the name of a man well above her station.”
Malwynn smiled, “My sister was always the more polite one. I’m far more direct.”
“I see this. Both aptitudes have their use thankfully. I shall grant your meager request Malwynn with no-last-name. You may call me Inquisitor Dram Sorber.”
Malwynn’s blood ran cold. Inquisitors of the Queen held tremendous power in the Empire. They served as spies, magistrates, executioners, and most were powerful users of The Way. This man was potent indeed. “You’re skilled in The Way aren’t you? A necromancer?”
The hood tilted to the side slightly, “Is it that obvious Malwynn? Does my power radiate from my body like heat comes from the sun? Can you feel my power?” Malwynn knew the man’s words were intended to intimidate, and his knowledge of Dram’s goal caused the attempt to fail.
“No. I merely made the connection with your robes, and the presence of your… escorts.” Malwynn waved his hand casually at the two zombies sitting on each side of the Inquisitor. Malwynn suddenly noted the strange smell of them. Like spices scattered on rotting meat.
Dram leaned back and looked to the twins, assessing them both. Umaryn tried to remain neutral, and kept her gaze on her brother. “Well as you’ve assessed, I am indeed one of the Queen’s Guild Necromancers, as well as an Inquisitor. I’m quite busy you see.”
Malwynn leaned back in his own couch and nodded in false approval. So much of his body wanted to draw his dagger from his belt and leap across the car to drive it up under the chin of the man near him. Whether or not Dram had anything to do with the death of his family, and the destruction of New Picknell, he felt this man deserved to die. His title alone warranted exec
ution. Malwynn showed none of this, and continued on with his friendly and respectful demeanor, “It’s quite the pleasure to meet you Inquisitor. I’m sorry if my blunt nature has offended you in any way.”
“I’m amused by your natures Malwynn and Umaryn. Most citizens are petrified to even be near an Inquisitor. It’s a pleasant change of pace to find anyone willing to strike up conversation. They are all afraid I’ll pass summary judgment on them, and have them put to death.”
“Have you done that Dram? Have you had people put to death?” Umaryn asked.
“Well young lady, I am an Inquisitor. We didn’t earn our reputation by not putting people to death.” Dram laughed slowly, and all the color drained from the twin’s faces.
Malwynn and Umaryn struggled to stay focused as they waited at the bottom of the wooden ramp that led to the freight car Bramwell and Tinder rode on. Graben was an impressive city, far larger than anywhere they’d ever been, and its startling geography had them captivated. Graben was a city divided in half, albeit in a strange fashion.
The city rested flush against a massive cliff in the Snake Ridge Mountains. At the base of the cliff was an area Ellioth had called the Low City. Squat timber homes and buildings spread out from the side of the cliff like an urban stain on the earth. Hundreds upon hundreds of structures were arranged along shoddy dirt roads for hundreds of yards. The ripe stink of human waste and dirty animals filled the air, thick and pungent. Where they stood in the Low City, on the very outer edge was the Artificer Guild rail yard. Unlike the tiny rail station in Ockham’s Fringe, this structure was an edifice, dedicated to the Guild as well as the Queen. It rose many stories high, and was chiseled out the grey granite that formed the bedrock of the Snake Ridge Mountains. Columns, domes, intricate carvings and scrollwork, and the ever present color Purple made the building seem enormous, ominous, and cold. Where they stood at the base of the platforms gave them a view of the city unlike anyplace they could’ve imagined.
At Least He's Not On Fire: A Tour of the Things That Escape My Head Page 18