“So, what is our next move?” I ask as I sift through stacks of books.
We will need these in the days to come. Several texts on the basics of magic slip into my pack, as well as blank sheets of paper. If I can teach Kearika some more magic, that will help ease the burden on me. After a moment of hesitation, I decide to bring a text on fundamental combat magic with me as well. Kearika will appreciate it.
I pack several pockets full of bandages and healing ointments. Never know when my magic will fail, or when I will have to conserve it. A small knife and a handful of stone runes in a velvet pouch find their way in as well. I may not be gifted at divination, but even I can use these stones. A handful of other tools get shoved in with them, anything I can think of to help eke out every spark of aether.
My engraving tools are wrapped up in their soft leather case, they slip in next to the texts. A half dozen unfinished rings get dropped on top of them, followed by a rather delicate pair of women’s evening gloves. I grab a rather gaudy goblet and toss it in as well. Gods know we will need all the wine we can get in the days to come.
What else?
The Zauberei can clearly pierce my wards with those knives of theirs, and until I get the chance to study one I doubt I will be able to stop them. If only we had a few days to stay here, I could figure out how they work. Until then, I will have to use something less refined. My ward is still collapsed from the silver dust, given a day or so I could restore it, but for now it’s gone.
I shuck off my battered robes, and don a night black set. Shimmering gold wire forms swirling designs across the whole of it, and on the inside silver wire mirrored them. The robe is thick and heavy, the polar opposite of my normal traveling robes. The weight came from the layer of chainmail sewn in between the black cloth. Kearika insisted that I have something like this.
These should do for now. We will be able to find food, so no need to waste space carrying it. These robes are not proof against bullets and bolts though, thankfully I have just the thing for that. Buried in one my drawers is a small silver pendant with a cloud carved onto the face of it. I slip it over my head and immediately the hem of my robe begins to blow slightly in an invisible wind.
I walk back over to Kearika and poke her booted foot with my staff. She grunts and flicks one eye open.
“Could you use one of the focusing chambers to get us out of here?” She asks me, stretching as she sits up.
“Maybe. Probably. If we can reach them, they are pretty far below ground you know.” I reply. A focusing chamber will give my teleportation enough of a boost to take use somewhere outside of the city limits. Using the focusing chambers is how Kearika and I normally went out on our missions.
“I was not able to sense them when we ran from the elf. They may not be functional, especially with the state of the Tower being what it is.” I tell her, and she shrugs nonchalantly.
“They either work or they don’t. If they don’t we’ll come up with another plan.” Kearika says.
She reaches down and slides out a wide, flat chest from underneath the couch. Curious, I peer over her shoulder at it. I have never seen her open that before. Kearika hums as she undoes the elaborate latches on it, before taking her token out and placing it in a receptacle on the front. The chest gives a quiet snick and the lid pops open.
Several gleaming pieces of armor rest inside on a bed of crushed blue velvet. A pair of shoulder pauldrons, engraved with Northern runes and the emblem of her tribe. The right one bears a mark I am unfamiliar with, a series of intertwined diamonds that form a larger diamond.
“It’s a mark of royalty for my clan. Strength, unity and all that.” She says, tracing the large diamond and then one of the smaller ones.
She unfolds a skirt made up of leather strips that terminate in steel circles, each one inscribed with a different rune. One of them however, is blank. Small studs run down each strip, and they rattle off each other as she puts the skirt on over her other armor. She straps on greaves, as well as pulling a pair of armored gloves on. Finally, she sets a small steel tiara over her hair and weaves her braids through it.
“I was expecting something more, hmm, martial for you.” I tell her.
“When you’re sixth in line, they don’t give you anything interesting. Lorana has this amazing helmet with antlers and spikes.” Kearika says dryly, closing the chest and slipping it back under the couch again. She then goes about hanging half a dozen different knives all over herself, and stuffing her things into her pack.
“Right, down to the chambers we go.” She says wistfully, looking all over the room.
“Do you think we’ll see this place again?” She asks, running a hand along the couch's frame.
“Of course, we will.” I tell her as we head back into the tower. The stairs below us spiral on seemingly forever, my legs groan as I think about going back down them. I am not doing that again.
“Come on Caius, there’s only a couple thousand stairs between here and the chambers, start walking.” Kearika says, sticking her tongue out at me as she skips past me. She breezily bounds down them, jumping from halfway up each flight. I rapidly lose sight of her as she descends.
With a shrug I step off the stairs and into the empty space between them as they wrap up the walls. The air begins to whistle around my ears, the stairs turning into a blur as I fall. Kearika flashes by, she throws a rude gesture at my smug grin as I go by. I begin to slow rapidly as I come to the bottom of the staircase, the air around me glittering with blue sparks as I touch down on the basement floor.
It’s pitch black down here, every lamp has been smashed and a few extinguished torches lay scattered around. I peer into the shadows, my enhanced eyes struggling to pierce the inky darkness. I should not have any problem seeing through mundane darkness. Which means a mage is did this.
I raise up my hands, concentrating on the flow of the aether. I inhale deeply, a piercing cold fills my lungs as I breathe out. A fine silvery-blue mist blows past my lips and the darkness recedes before me. My recently healed shoulder wound tingles, I can feel a trail of warm blood flowing underneath my robes. I had to use my own aether for that, what Kearika gave me would not have worked. The cost for getting rid of this darkness is undoing some of the healing I did.
With the darkness gone I can see down the hallway, all the way to the alcove leading to the focusing chambers. A carpet of corpses litter the floor. Mages, Protectors and the royal guard are tangled together in death. This much violence should have made this hallway an abattoir, but strangely there isn’t a drop of blood on them. The scent of it is missing from the air as well. I grip my staff a little tighter as I peer at the corpses.
I close my eyes, letting them push out into the aether around me. The vast currents are still missing from my sight, but at I can sense the presence of it. My hands give off a swirling blue and green that illuminates the hallway around me. I look back at the bodies and see a swirling black, with flashes of crimson weaving through them. A glint of silver catches my eye, right before it streaks out of the darkness and into my stomach.
The force of the bolt sends me stumbling backwards, but my robes and amulet have done their job. The crossbow bolt is caught in the rings of the chain mail and the thick cloth beneath it, instead of my stomach. I can sense Kearika picking up her pace, but she’s still only halfway down the stairs. A handful figures in cloaks rise up from the tangle of corpses and rush me without a sound.
They all have blades in their hands, dulled grey so as not to shine in the light. I hold my staff out in front of me, doing my best to relax and let Kearika guide me. I bat away the first’s blade and a swift thrust to their temple knocks them to the ground. I slam the capped end of the staff into another one’s groin and they exhale explosively as they collapse. I try to disarm the third one, but I’m simply not fast enough. I might have Kearika’s knowledge, but I lacked her reflexes and coordination.
The remaining four pin me up against the base of the stairwell, one of them pr
esses their blade against my throat. Kearika is not going to make it here in time. I struggle against them, trying to free my arms from their grip. I could force my way out of this, but not before they take my head from my shoulders. I glance down at the knife blade and see familiar symbols along the blade. A mage killing blade, fantastic. The one holding the knife puts a finger up to his lips, and I get the distinct sensation of wind blowing through my hair.
Chapter XXX - Kearika
Duras - Knihovna
29th of Telod, 1873 MD
Why are there so many damn stairs in this place, it’s not like mages need them! I’m running down the stairs, determined to beat Caius to the bottom. The added weight of my armor barely slows me, and it’s comforting to wear it again. I haven’t worn this since I arrived at the Tower, before I began my training.
Caius’s loathing of descending all these stairs seeps into my thoughts, making me grin as I skip down them. Flickers of his sight keep replacing my own, which I’m slowly getting acclimated to. I know Caius and I experience this differently. For him it’s like an expansion of his awareness, he’s literally in two places at once. Personally, I find the whole experience rather disconcerting. It isn’t just his vision that would override mine, it’s his hearing as well. Normally I just have to deal with his emotions bleeding into mine, but now it’s a relentless assault on all my very being.
Caius is always saying I just have to stop resisting. I don’t know how I’m supposed to, it’s not like this is a relaxing experience for me. I’m not worried about it though, the few other times we’ve done this my hesitation has never been a problem. Still, I wonder what I could do?
Caius goes sailing past me, streaking into the darkness at the base of the stairs. I’m going to wipe that stupid grin off his face when I get down there. This is exactly how things go wrong. Everyone splits up and gets picked off alone. I redouble my efforts, jumping down each flight of stairs from the landing above. A sense of curiosity, followed by shock comes from Caius. I glance over the side of the stairs, trying to judge the distance left. Still about thirty levels down to the bottom.
A crossbow bolt hits me in the stomach, and I lose my balance as I jump down the stairs. Rather gracelessly I tumble down them, but my ward keeps me from being injured. I shake my head as I stand back up, glancing around me. I pat down my stomach and find nothing there. The distinct feeling of a knife to my throat makes me flinch. Caius. I look back over the side of the stairs. Sure enough, Caius is surrounded by cloaked figures.
Dammit. I step back from the ledge and shake myself. I clench my hands and take a few breaths before hurling myself over the edge. I clench my teeth as I fall, keeping my nervous yell caged in my throat. The wind roars as I come hurtling down, throwing my braids in a wild tangle as I fall. My armored skirt rattles wildly, making a terrible racket as the coins ricochet off each other. I glance down one last time and squeeze my eyes shut. The last thing I see is the saucer wide eyes of the cloaked man right beneath my feet.
Crunch!
My booted feet come down on either side of his head, smashing him into the floor beneath me. My knees buckle as the impact travels through them and I end up hitting the ground sideways with my arms around my head. The bones in my feet, legs and arms shatter as I bounce off the ground. As I tumble through the air I feel the magic come rushing in, pouring in from every direction into my battered body. Before I’ve hit the ground the second time my legs have clicked back together, and by the third time my arms are working again. I come to a stop against a pile of bodies, breathing heavily with a pained expression.
I stand up wearily, brushing blood and bone from my armor as I do. I roll my neck, feeling the mended bones crack as I do. A few shoulder rolls ensures they’re working and I stretch out my arms in front of me. Caius and the cloaked figures just stare at me and Caius’s mouth is hanging open.
“You could have died!” He snaps, recovering his composure first. The fighter nearest to him shakes his head, rousing himself from his surprise. With a smooth motion I draw and throw a knife through his throat, which he grasps at as he falls to the ground.
“Not really. It was only thirty something flights of stairs and I had someone to catch me.” I say as I shrug, hurling another knife into another throat. The last cloaked man gives a yell as he charges me, his knife held out point first in front of him. I bat it casually to the side, letting him pass by as my halberd comes through its arc and takes his head from his shoulders.
“Besides I wouldn’t have had to do that, if you hadn’t decided that stairs are beneath you!” I tell him, pulling out a rag and cleaning the blood from my blade.
“How was I supposed to know what was down here?” He snaps back, scowling at me.
“I’m glad you’re okay too. Come on, just admit that was pretty amazing.” I reply with a wry grin.
“Fine, it was amazing.” He says rolling his eyes with a sigh. I give him a peck on the cheek that he tries to swat away.
“So, what’s the deal with our friends? I’m going to assume they’re Zauberei, since they’re not in uniform.” I ask him, toeing one of the corpses with a boot. Why would they be down here, it’s not like normal people can use these chambers. Caius hands me one of their knives, the symbols etched into it answer my question.
“There must be something going on in the chambers, and these were the guards. Why else would they be hiding out here? Can you sense anything?” I ask Caius.
“No, the door to the chambers are sealed to prevent anything from escaping. There could be a war going on in there, and we would never know until we opened them.” He shakes his head as he replies.
With a shrug I turn and pick my way down the hallway, keeping my weapon ready for any hidden foes. Well, either we got them all or the rest have wised up. The door to the chambers is a large, moist stone circle set in a track.
A burnished copper handle rests in the center of it, and together we set to moving the door. It resists for a moment, then slowly its massive bulk begins to roll. As it does the silence is shattered by a cacophony of violence from the other side. Screams, moans and the ring of steel striking steel call out from beyond the door.
We peer around the edge of the door, and are greeted by a scene of chaos and bloodshed. The chambers are laid out in a radial pattern, a large center chamber with several smaller ones arrayed in a semi-circle. The main chamber is easily six hundred feet across, and the smaller ones ranged from a handful of feet in width to half the size of the main one.
The main chamber is packed full of people, alive and dead. Against the far back is a circle of mages and their guardians, with a woman in red at their forefront. Next to her is a hulk of a man. He’s coated in blood, but most of it’s from those he has crushed with his oversized hammer.
A mass of silver armored fighters pressed against the mages from their right, hewing through robes and armor alike. The Zauberei aren’t making much progress however, as that side seems to be almost entirely Protectors. While the Zauberei might be a mage’s worst nightmare, the field is even against their guardians. The two sides are locked together in a bloody brawl, the floor is slick with blood by their feet and strewn with corpses.
To the left of the mages is a body of black leather clad troops, wielding rifles and longswords in tandem. The ones with rifles would fire a barrage into the mages holding that side, and the swordsmen would rush to meet the mages. Stymying them are the barriers the mages have created; walls of stone, ice or fire that absorbed the bullets before they could strike. Gouts of the same crushed, incinerated, and froze swathes of the charging swordsmen, but here and there they made it to the mage’s line. Where they did they are inevitably repulsed, but not before taking down several mages.
Where the silver and black lines met, the fighting is fierce as well. Despite both sides working to slaughter the mages, neither of them is willing to give the other any quarter. Silver armored knights are knocked to the ground by black leather clad soldiers, daggers are forced thr
ough eye slits and joints in their armor. Gauntleted fists smashed leather clad skulls, sweeping longswords separated limbs from bodies. The only place the fighting is more vicious is where all three forces met, and even there none of them worked together.
It’s clear that if Caius and I wanted to make it to the mages, we’d have to fight our way through that mess. I’d learned of pitched combat like this, but I’d never participated in it before. Neither has Caius, and the thought of trying to keep him safe in a mess like that is enough to make my head ache. I’ll never be able to get him through that in one piece.
At this rate, those royal soldiers will win this meat grinder. They have the advantage of numbers. There are easily four times as many black clad fighters as there are Mages and Zauberei combined. Their numbers pressed against the walls of the chamber, and it kept them from bringing everything they have to bear against the Zauberei and mages. Speaking of mages.
“Caius, I can understand why the Zauberei haven’t been swept away, but how are the others still breathing? A powerful enough mage can slay a score of men without thinking, more with them packed as closely as they are.” I ask him.
“We do not know how long this fight has been going on for Kearika. My guess is whoever is left are the lucky and the average. Powerful mages would have been the first to be targeted, and the weak would never have survived. Those that are left are probably running out of aether if this fight has been going for any real length of time.” He replies with a shrug as he studies the battle.
Which side would be easier to force our way through? The Zauberei have those knives of theirs, but they fought as warriors rather than soldiers. Individually they’d be easier to move through, but they are also far more dangerous. The royal guard worked well together, always supporting each other and attacking together. But they didn’t have blades that could cut through our magic without a second thought. They’re also packed so tightly we’d have to fight for every inch of ground.
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