Chapter Three Hundred And Forty Three – 343"He is still unconscious, your Grace. The Autarch struck him quite powerfully. I'm...surprised we found so little harm done," the Henaari woman said to Vess as she led her deeper within the single-story healer's ward. They hadn't any dedicated healers yet, not unless those mages in the Legion had such talents, but a few Henaari herbalists manned the halls in order to better care for their scouts and hunters. The woman leading Vess was tall, with the signature high forehead of her people, and large, wide-set eyes that made them look a touch too different from a Human. They hadn't the same fragile beauty of an Elf, but the grace was there, she could admit that much.
"The Autarch would never have struck to kill, Miss...?"
"Pylyk. Gatherer Pylyk."
"Gatherer Pylyk. Their duel was a formality, to...settle an old debate." She managed not to grind her teeth at the words, though her blood all but boiled at the both of them. To think, fighting over her like she was some...some object. Honor, pfah!
"Well, begging your pardon, your Grace. Remind me never to argue with the Autarch."
The hallways they traversed were all made of a uniformly featureless granite, the bedrock of the area she was told. However, the austere design had been softened by the addition of wooden panels and floors, as well as borders and lintels all carved with a hundred tiny figures and birds. Ravens, she had no doubt. The Henaari were remarkable craftsman, another point in their favortruly, Vess would have been a great fan of them, had they worshipped a proper god instead of one of those creatures.
"Here we are," Gatherer Pylyk said before unlatching a wide wooden portal, carved with a dizzying design of leaves over a sleek hunting drake. Vess' fingers lingered on the door as she passed.
"Did you carve this for him?" she asked.
Gatherer Pylyk inclined her head. "The room was too bare to be without, so we drew inspiration from your guardian. He follows the Path of the Drake, does he not?"
Vess narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that?"
The woman smiled gently. "We have eyes to see and ears to hear, your Grace. Few things stay secret for long, even in a land as large as ours."
Instead of addressing that, Vess swept past her and into the anteroom beyond. "Please see that we are not disturbed."
"...As you wish, your Grace."
Pylyk retreated, that same gentle smile on her face as the door closed with a soft, muted thunk. Vess was left alone in a dark antechamber with no furniture of any kind, only the carved detail of a chair rail depicting more ravens in flight. A single doorway sat opposite the entrance, and it lacked any sort of door at all, instead opening into a slightly larger room with an oversized bed and a simple chest of drawers. Courtesy of the Henaari's odd Blessings, no doubt. A bulk of blankets sat atop the bed, breathing deeply.
Vess walked closer.
"You have been practicing you Steps. I barely heard you," he said. Darius groaned as he sat up, letting blankets fall from his chest. "I'm impressed."
"Darius."
"Vessilia. I am happy to see you alive."
"You doubted it?" she said with a furrowing of her brows.
"I doubt everything, most of all your safety. That is my job," he said, far more calmly than she had expected.
"You came here for me," she said before planting herself on the smooth stone floor. "I intend to stay here. With my allies and friends. If you try, I"
"As you wish."
"What?" Vess was poleaxed. The furrow of her brows deepened. "What...what is this?"
"An...admission." Darius' face creased with a frown of his own. His gaze drifted to the sole window, shuttered against the gathering chill. Not that it would have affected either of them overmuch. "Event have outpaced me. My sense of honor, of duty to your Father, it has been tested time and again these past months. The Guild, the Revenants, the Inquisition. I was to be a bulwark against danger, especially after the Foglands. Your Father...when he received that missive that said you were missing, he was in a rage. I was to find you, protect you, and train you in the Guild's stead." He sighed, and it was like the big man was deflating. "I have only succeeded in pushing you further away."
Vess said nothing, only watched as Darius wrestled with something. She could hear the edges of ithis Spirit, usually guarded, seemed tired. "I have decided to stop pushing. I was appointed your guardian, but I cannot be there for you if I am discarded. So, I will follow your lead."
"If you truly felt this, then why the duel? What possible purpose could that have served?" Vess clenched her jaw against her urge to accept the man's contrite words. Darius was stone stubborn, a mirror of her Father, and she didn't trust his about face. "If you had won, you would have accosted the System anointed Lord of the Territory within his own Stronghold. My friend. You think I would have simply gone with you?"
"No. But it was necessary," Darius rumbled. He lifted his hands, clenching and unclenching them as if literally grasping for words. "If I am to place myself in the...Autarch's chain of command, then I had to test his mettle. I had to know, for certain, what he could do. I have his measure now."
"No, you really do not," Vess said. She shook her head. "Did you not see it? He was holding back."
"What? That's..." Darius' eyes flashed back to Vess' own. "Explain." He gritted his teeth. "Please."
"No. I am more interested in what you meant before," Vess said, snagging a chair from the corner. It was carved all over with trees and ravens. "You said my father was sent a missive. From whom? When?"
"It was...from a concerned House. A minor one in Haarwatch. We received it approximately a week after you had left. Why does it matter? All of that was months ago and hardly pertinent any longer."
"Humor me. It was sent via Manaship? Waystone?" she asked, leaning forward.
"It was ciphered along the Waystone network, yes," he said.
"An official missive, sent along channels that would have taken months to reach on foot, and would have cost them a significant fee in gold," Vess murmured, half to herself. "And you never questioned its provenance?"
"I searched for the House when I arrived in Haarwatch, but they had"
"Fallen mysteriously, no doubt," Vess finished for him.
Darius nodded, worry blooming in his face. "Yes. The last of their line had died beyond the Haargate a month before I arrived. Their manse in the Sunrise Quarter was bought up by another party. What are you doing?"
Yet Vess was already leaving, her skirts swishing furiously.
After Felix brought Rafny to see Harn, he discovered that she had not come alone. Thirteen apprentices were in tow, most of which he recognized from the Dwarf's smithy back in Haarwatch, but a few that seemed fresh recruits. When he asked her about it, he learned that was exactly what happened. Before they had left Haarwatch, the Coldfires had put out a call for new apprentices. All of them had promise, he was assured, and were more than willing to relocate to the Foglands.
Felix hadn't been sure what to expect from Rafny, but she had fallen in beside Harn with little issue, only providing him with assistance when he requested it. For his part, Harn wasn't shy about asking questions, and soon the two of them were thick as thieves. He had left them to it, loudly talking about the right sort of weapons for their growing forces.
The Legion, right, Felix thought as he left the Crafting Hall. He lingered around the Beacon upon the landing, an area now fitted with Henaari-crafted benches for some reason. I should go visit them sometime, shouldn't I? There was no answer from within him, as Pit had gone off with A'zek again, but he didn't need one. He'd provided the Legion with a type of priority housing against the base of the cliff, though each were relegated to one of several long barracks-style structures. Some Stone Shaping had carved them from the cliff itself, and he'd reinforced them with more of that blue-black stone he'd conjured to create the wall and towers. I'll give them a bit to settle in before visiting.
Yeah. That was for the best. He definitely wasn't putting off dealing with them.
"Felix!"
Coming up onto the Beacon's landing was a familiar man with dark hair and a closely-cropped beard. He had a young girl riding on his shoulders, and his smile was wide as anything.
"Hector!" Felix closed the distance and took the Inscriptionist's hand. "Been a while. How are things back home?"
"Good enough," the man said, fumbling to get his daughter off his shoulders. She was bigger than before, two or so inches taller if his memory servedand it usually did. "We finished up the Wall. Had to patch it with steel, but we scrubbed the Archon's inscriptions from it and rerouted the city's defensive power back into the structure. It's not pretty, but it'll serve."
"That's great to hear," Felix said in genuine relief. "I was worried that a monster horde would tear into the city sooner or later."
"Oh, they tried. Legion helped a lot with that," Hector said before bending toward his daughter. "Amaya, my light, do you remember Felix?"
The little girl nodded, her dark brown eyes wide and assessing. "You're the Monster my Mommy complains about."
Felix grinned and Hector tutted. "Amaya, don't be rude." He looked back up at him and shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, Felix. I don't know where she gets these things."