12 Miles Below

It was nerve wracking to Hexis. He’d never been within such a claustrophobic living space, but the surface clan seemed to be made entirely of such architecture.

Everything was low to the ground, or packed with as much as possible without breaking means of passage. Catwalks a mere head above him with hoversleds zipping above at ridiculous speeds, chatter surrounding him like a suffocating blanket, and worse of all - people.

The warlock guild halls had always been grand and opulent, filled with wide inviting spaces. Regal marble pillars, tall ceilings that seemed to stretch up to the very surface - although his opinion of the surface was now irreparable tarnished.

Three Undersider knights remained around him as an escort, with his butler at his side serving the morning pastries. Thank the pure soul within he’d had the foresight to bring down his kitchen staff’s implements, ingredients and cooking tools. Who knew what kind of strange methods these savages used to eat and survive? Or how they even cleaned such items.

Regardless, it paid to be prepared for every situation.

The past day he’d been waiting in this singular guest room, plotting and planning. The guild would pay for what they did to him, and all the tools he needed to have that revenge were right here before him. It only needed a delicate touch, one that could afford no mistake.

And soon, the game would be starting. He could feel it in his bones from the moment the door before him opened up and admitted one of his guards in.

“Your magnificence,” The knight at the door said. “One of the clan surface envoys wishes to speak to you. With your permission?”

“Granted.” Hexis said, keeping his posture straight and prepared.

The man admitted into his guest room carried those strange straw shoulder pads and cloak, along with a wide brimmed hat, equally made of straw. A demon mask hid all features besides the eyes deep within. The surface clan’s fabled Chenobi’s, zealots among zealots who would hide among the population and keep everything running smoothly by word or by blade.

A pawn piece in the game Hexis played.

“You wished an audience with me?” He asked.

The man gave no nod, nor any motion. “The clan lord returns within the hour.” He said instead. “I have been instructed to bring you to his audience chamber in preparation for a meeting. If the honored guest is prepared, we can be on our way.”

Hexis nodded, standing up and giving a signal to his guards. “Lead the way then.”

The chenobi turned on his heels and stalked out the doorway, with the Warlock and Undersider knights in tow behind. Hexis had been through the clan once so far, moving from the hangar airlocks straight to the little guest room prison he’d been thrown in. Certainly, the pilgrim tales about what to expect made sense and gave him some comfort to expectation. But to have the very guest room for someone like himself be so surrounded by noise and common peasants, in addition to being so small - it rankled his senses.

Nothing he could do about that but swallow his pride for now and bear with it. The clan lord would be more reasonable in giving him proper accommodations for his rank.

So long as Hexis did his part correctly.

Surprisingly, the audience chamber used by a Deathless clan lord turned out to be just as small and compact as his prior guestroom, which didn’t fill Hexis with much confidence at the wealth of the clan as a whole. And he’d be condemned to this clan for a good few months if his plan was accurate. Hopefully his supply of food would last, eating bugs and insects was rather unpleasant to think about.

“The clan lord will be with you when he is ready.” The chenobi said, taking position to the side of the entrance. The rest of his guards nearly filed in, up until the last second when more Chenobi appeared at the entrances, hands raised up to halt their advance.

“Regrettably, only you were called for.” His guide said. “Your guards and butler will remain behind.”

That got the Undersider knights bristled up. They had no loyalty to Hexis of course, but they were under contract to keep an eye on him at all times. Having him vanish behind a doorway like so would be giving the grand warlock a chance to slip away. He could tell they were trying to figure out a way to argue back with the Chenobi, and finding no means to pry any concessions. Perhaps if this had been a human Clan Lord, they would have felt more entitled to putting force and political pressure on their hosts. But Atius was a Deathless, and those still held strong reputation, despite the speed that the latest generation was dismantling it all.

The choice was ultimately out of their hands as Hexis stepped through the entrance and watched as the door slid shut behind him, leaving him alone in the room.

He took the moment to review what he’d learned from that Feather. He could certainly return back to the guild with those secrets alone and regain his power, but nothing the guild had could protect him from the wrath of an irate Feather. A bargain made with the rust coated over the soul couldn’t be easily freed from. Other puritans would have called him an outright heretic for consorting with such beings in the first place, but Hexis was pragmatic.

And he always chose the winning side.

Tea was delivered to his little table while he waited, the same tea he’d brought with him from the underground. So either the surface dwellers had already ransacked his airspeeders and were just baiting him with their looted spoils, or they had observed him since the moment he’d arrived and knew exactly what he’d have requested. A subtle warning sign of the clan’s intelligence operatives.

Yes, he wasn’t difficult to spy on. Hexis was at their mercy, they didn’t need to play head games here, it was all well understood.

Especially the few times Hexis had seen those clan knights with the cracked armor like Sagrius stalking nearby. As much as his little jailors from the guild thought themselves superior, they were only alive because the clan wasn’t outright hostile to Hexis yet. A single one of those surface knights would easily butcher his entire guard detail, and the fools had no idea.

No, the winners of this game wouldn't be the Undersider knights sent to guard Hexis.

The doors opened two hours later, far past the time he’d been told prior. But Hexis was well aware this was simply a message from the clan lord detailing that Hexis had little of interest to the man. Standard power games played.

The jovial smile the clan lord gave him sealed Hexis’s impression. That was the well practiced smile of a man making an effort to be simply polite to someone that hardly mattered, or the perfect impression of that. Negotiations had already started.

“Grand warlock Hexis.” Atius said, stalking forward and taking a seat within the quiet chamber.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance as well, lord Deathless Atius.” Hexis said, following the traditional script. "The guild thanks you for your warm welcome within your home here."

Atius hummed. “Forgive the delay, There were matters I had to attend to that could not be missed.”

Such as lunch. Maybe a walk around outside, see if the weather's changed. Hexis saw the test for what it was. He pointedly did not allow himself to feel irritated that any matter could be more important than a grand warlock visiting a quaint little clan of savages for the first time in recorded history. Perhaps a few days ago, he may have. But the stakes had changed.

“It’s understandable.” Hexis said instead, “There are enemies at your doorstep to handle, a delicate situation if you will. How was your earlier expedition? A success no doubt?”

The blue eyes looked rather amused back, a hand raised up to stroke his beard. As if the Deathless was debating how best to amuse himself. “Somewhat.” Atius eventually said. “Less an expedition in combat, and more a historical dig of sorts. Are you interested in history?”

“The warlocks have always been admirers of history, arts and philosophy. Our powers require a great deal of learning passed down from master to master.” Of that, he wasn’t lying. Half of what he knew was all history and lore. “As you no doubt know, the guild was as much a part of history as the grand empire of old. Even in those days, the Imperials looked to us for guidance against the machines and enemies abroad.”

“And I suppose you have come here to offer that same guidance for little old us, lad?” Atius said. “How humbling to hear.”

“Don’t mistake arrogance, lord Deathless.” Hexis said. “I’m well aware your clan hardly needs assistance. Given your recent discoveries.”

A raised eyebrow was all the Deathless gave back. “And what discoveries might that be?”

With the bait taken, Hexis leaned back in his chair and took a moment. Presentation and confidence was key when revealing such information in the middle of a wolf’s den. “Why, your fractal of course.”

The Deathless didn't pause for a moment. "I'm not quite sure what you refer to with this?"

"There's no need for games here, lord Deathless." Hexis said. "None of the abilities shown by your knights could be done without the occult. And the occult cannot be wielded by non-deathless without fractals to work from. Let's be clear on this, I am not here to confirm suspicions, that was done long ago. There is only one means of connecting and casting the Occult. I am here for more pragmatic reasons, and I believe we are both men of reason."

Atius gave a soft hum, nodding. “Interesting. And the actions of the young Kidra Winterscar drew attention from your illustrious guild, I take it?”

The words were spoken lightly, but the mood had clearly shifted. The Deathless seemed to loom at the end of the table, posture gaining attention. Hexis licked his lips, he’d just announced himself as a potential information leak, and now he had to make his allegiances clear or it was very much certain he wasn’t stepping out of this chamber as a free man.

“Not quite, and not yet.” Hexis said. “Had they discovered such a thing, it wouldn’t be only raiders attacking your clan. They wouldn't be crass enough to be direct about it of course, but you would certainly see some more trouble out here. And I so happen to be rather estranged with the warlocks guild as of this moment. Hence why I believe you might use my guidance in this matter before they come into the picture.”

“A turncoat.”

“Turncoat, opportunist, words words words. Rather, I found the limits and traditions among the guild to be… stifling. In comparison, your clan has clearly taken fractals in directions that are banned among my traditions, and you've begun to experiment with it even more, rather than hide away in fear. I admire this, greatly.”

Atius said nothing for a moment, calculating. When he spoke, there was a tone of consideration. “If I am understanding you correctly, are you implying the guild has artificially constricted what they can and cannot do with the fractals they know of?”

Hexis nodded. “It is as so.”

“And why is that?” Atius asked.

“Machines of course, bane of everything pure, good, and all of that.” Hexis said, waving his hand. “Warlocks were not the first to discover the occult secrets. We won’t be the last either. All it takes is someone willing to break apart relic armor and begin to experiment with it, that's where the very first occult linages come from - if it's not discovered in some ruins or hidden troves of knowledge. Soon enough, they’ll stumble into occult attunement, and then find access to the forbidden fractal along with a handful of starting spells relic armors use. The machines can hardly stop the mite forges from spitting such knowledge out into the open, but they can hunt down any trace of someone making use of the more powerful fractals.”

He took a quick sip of his tea, warming his throat. This was far outside his modus of operation, caution had to be taken for this leap of faith. “Each time humans grew too powerful with certain fractal uses, machines would appear and wipe them out. Even in our era, there are plenty of smaller organizations who sprout up and sprint before they can run, thinking they can compete against the great warlock guilds. They do not run far. We warlocks have survived as an institution even through the fall of the grand empire because we’ve learned where those limits are. We’ve studied the heights of our forefathers, seen where they’ve flown too close to their sun, and know the exact limits.”

“I see. You hide like pipe weasels in the eyes of history.” Atius said, folding his hands before himself. “And thus the guidance you mentioned earlier.”

“And so the guidance I mentioned earlier.” Hexis concluded, feeling relieved. The hard part was done. “Many of them are simple guidelines on what to follow and what to avoid. However, such rules make sense underground, where the machines lurk. Above ground… offers a different set of rules that the guild has clearly overlooked. I'm rather quite interested in that part.”

Likely because no warlocks wanted to ever climb up to this soul-forsaken land in the first place when the comforts of the Underground were far superior. But of course, the rest of his kin didn’t quite know the secrets that Hexis now knew and peddled. The bargain had to be followed to the letter. And convincing the clan lord was the first step.

“I have always been a craftsman at heart, before my responsibilities or the political battles such a weight inevitably draws me into. Sadly, my unorthodox attempts to break certain traditions and rules was seen with... less enthusiasm than I had thought. Hence my current predicament. Which brings me to here. I came here to learn, and in exchange, I'll accept an apprentice and share the secrets of my guild. Do keep that part to yourself of course, you see my guild isn't in the buissness of handing out apprenticeships to non-guild members. Fortunately, your clan clearly has no fear of machines, and no rules to hold you back. I don't think there's much the guild can do with violence against your position here. Perhaps, together, we can discover the deeper depths of the occult.”

Atius considered. The old Deathless drew back in his chair, eyes focused. Hexis remained silent, waiting.

What he offered was too good to ignore and Hexis knew it. Full institutional knowledge from an ancient order of warlocks who learned how to wield and sell the powers of the occult, and the hidden trigger points machines searched for. Personal guidance from a master such as himself.

Everything a budding occult researcher could need.

He didn't need to wait for long.