Fortress Al-Mir

“So that’s it?” Arkk asked, looking out over the wide gardens and open plazas that made up the promontory that jutted out into the ocean. The grounds looked idyllic, the kind of place where fairy-tale princesses would frolic during the day. At night, the white stone walls would provide plentiful security for a peaceful rest.

Clinging to the roof of a building with Ilya at his side wasn’t how he pictured his day going when Ilya said she could get their eyes on the Duke’s manor. He wouldn’t, under pain of death, admit to being afraid of heights. The way his foot kept sliding down the mist-slicked slate tiles of the roof sent butterflies through his stomach. The mist having turned to frost in the chill air didn’t help his traction any. He had one gloved hand firmly gripping the edge of the roof and his other hand wishing it could find purchase.

He had half a mind to grab hold of Ilya’s leg. Under other circumstances, he might have admired the view of the elf pressed down against the roof just above him. The way she clung to the building with surety and grace would have been beautiful if not for the quick spikes of adrenaline that shot through Arkk’s stomach every time he felt himself sliding downward.

Grabbing hold of her wouldn’t have been a good idea, unfortunately. He would just end up dragging her down as well. Vezta waited at the bottom. He had to hope that her reflexes would be enough to catch him if he did fall.

“Are you listening?”

Arkk flicked his eyes from the toned thighs of the woman sharing the roof to her face. “Yes?”

Ilya rolled her eyes. “Better watch it. I might kick you off.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“You were thinking about grabbing my ass.”

“Maybe. Could you blame me?”

“No. I’d still kick you off.”

“Harsh but fair, I suppose,” Arkk said with a sigh, trying to play it cool even as his foot slipped off the lower edge of the roof again. “You know, we never get time to ourselves anymore. There is always something needing doing or people around. After we get your mother out of there, we should go hunting again. Just the two of us.”

“Arkk, focus, please.”

“Sorry. Just nervous being up here with such a lovely lady.”

“Lies.”

“Maybe,” Arkk admitted, turning his head to try to find any kind of lip or edge that he could plant his foot against without it just sliding off.

“Anyway, if you’re done acting the love-sick fool…” Ilya’s sharp eyes turned back over the side of the roof. The crazy elf actually let go of the roof with one of her hands to point off into the distance. “I was trying to say that the tower over there was where the magical defenses were. I think, anyway. I don’t know much about magic but the tower glowed and then the harpy couldn’t escape.”

Edging ever so slightly closer to the edge of the roof, Arkk peered around it from his lower vantage point. He could see the tall tower jutting up from the far end of the Duke’s keep. Maybe there were people up there? He could see movement but that could easily be a flag shuffling in the chill gusts of wind.

“There are four people up there. Two look like regular guards, the same as anywhere else along the walls. Two are wearing robes. Spellcasters, I assume.”

“Why robes?”

Ilya managed to shrug without losing her grip on the roof. “Maybe the Duke likes them in robes so he can easily tell apart spellcasters from rank-and-file.”

“And you think there is a ritual circle up there?”

“Something glowed. You’re the magic expert. You tell me.”

“Zullie is the magic expert. I might be able to tell you what it does if I could see it. My eyes aren’t as good as yours. Can you describe it?”

“Can’t see the floor from here. Or anything else that looked like it might have been glowing.”

“Dang.” Much like churches or wherever inquisitors were suspected of being, scrying anywhere near the Duke’s manor failed. They hadn’t been able to get a good, in-depth overview of the place. If they could scry on it, there was no way Ilya would have convinced him to climb up to the top of the roof, enticing view of her backside or not. “Those are probably not the manor’s only defenses. Magically speaking. Zullie said that a lot of work went into its design. Some aspects of the manor’s defenses are studied in the academy but a lot of it is either secret—for security reasons—or were developed by the church.”

“Will it be a problem if there are more defenses?”

“I have no idea. If there is nothing else, shall we get down?”

“I thought you wanted to map out the place.”

“Yes, well, as it turns out, my hands are a bit busy,” Arkk said, adjusting his grip on the edge of the roof. “I’ll just have to remember it for later.”

“From what Hawkwood said, that large wing with the glass ceiling is likely where we’ll be for most of the party.”

“Opposite side of the keep from the tall tower. Not ideal but possibly not a problem. Won’t know until we go in, I suppose. We have no idea what the interior looks like and I really can’t see anything from here anyway.”

“It would help if you weren’t staring at me.”

“Ilya,” Arkk said, putting on his most suave smile. “How do we get back down?”

The elf blinked at the non-sequitur. “Climb?”

“Backwards?”

“No. Head first,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just the reverse of how you got up here. Dangle your legs over the edge and find the notches you used to get up. The brickwork is jagged enough that there are plenty.”

As if to demonstrate, Ilya let go entirely. She slid down the slick roof right until her boots hit the lower edge. Some elven magic must have kicked in because she stopped with her boots dangling just past the rooftop. However, she didn’t stop for long. A slight wiggle in her waist sent her over the edge. Her boots made faint clacks as they struck the wall and, in a graceful display, she was upright clinging to the roof and the wall.

“Just like that. Easy.”

“Easy,” Arkk said. “Maybe you should send Vezta up for me when you get down.”

Ilya was probably going to strain something with how much she was rolling her eyes. “Come on,” she said, using only one hand to hold onto the roof as she planted a hand on his backside. “I’ll guide you. Just let go and—”

Arkk, doing as he was told, let go of the side of the roof. Only for a moment. As soon as he started sliding back, he tried to clamp hold of it again. The frosty roof slipped through his gloves without purchase.

In an instant, Arkk felt his stomach drop out from under him. The rest of him followed.

“Arkk!”

The building they had been using as a vantage point was a three-story building. Tall enough that his uncontrolled tumble would break his neck on impact but not so tall as to offer time to do anything. As Arkk flipped off the roof, he spotted two bright yellow eyes glowing from under the hood of a cloak. Was Vezta going to catch him? Could she?

He didn’t have time to think of the answers.

Arkk spoke the two words he thought might save him in that instant.

“Cranium Internum.”

Arkk slammed into the ground.

Except, it didn’t hurt. It wasn’t even a fast fall. More like he had toppled backward out of a chair onto a soft mat. He still let out a long, feminine groan, more out of the expectation of pain rather than feeling anything. Slamming a hand into his face and dragging it down, he slowly sat up and opened his eyes.

And opened his eyes.

And opened his eyes.

A cascade of visions, each more bizarre and unsettling than the last, assaulted Arkk. The world he beheld through the eyes of this inhuman entity was unlike anything he ever could have imagined.

Just a few moments ago, it had been a cold, overcast day. Entirely ordinary for early winter. The colors were dull and muted, looking drab. There had been no sign of the sun even though it should have been visible over the top of Cliff’s mountains.

Now, the overcast sky was gone, replaced with a shattered black void that stretched eternally. Distant specks of light looked nothing like normal stars. They were eyes like Vezta’s, staring back down at him, watching his every move. Waiting. Waiting for what? They wanted something.

He could feel it.

He could hear it.

Whispers, faint and haunting, called down from the shattered sky. Their words meant nothing to him. Secrets from ages long past or casual conversation around a tavern fire. It could have been either.

Fear coiled in his chest, feeling small and insignificant. He was merely one tiny speck of dust next to the [STARS] above. And yet, amidst that terror and shrinking feeling, an ember of curiosity ignited deep within. This was where Vezta had come from. Distant. So far away that only gods could reach. He could see it.

Arkk. Farmboy-turned-mercenary leader was now witnessing a sight that no other being had witnessed.

Something moved to block his view. Ilya’s face obscured the shattered sky. She looked down with worry and panic, hands clamping down on Arkk’s shoulders. For some reason, Arkk expected her to look different. Maybe something subtle, a distortion to her features, or maybe something obvious like transparent skin revealing blood, bone, and organs. But she was just Ilya. Beautiful with her elven features.

The ground was the ground. The bricks were bricks. It was only the sky above that had changed.

“—happened to Arkk? He fell and… I panicked and…”

Arkk blinked and blinked and blinked and blinked. He could hear her words and her voice but… those unintelligible whispers from the [STARS] were so fascinating…

“Arkk is safe,” his mouth responded of its own accord. “Startled, I think. Master, if you can hear me, it would be wise to end the spell.”

Spell? Spell.

Cranium Internum. He was possessing Vezta. Of course he was. She was the only other in the entire world who saw what he was seeing now. Spell. End spell.

Arkk stumbled back from Vezta’s body, slamming into Ilya and knocking them both to the ground. Ilya, startled, started to shove him off only to realize who he was. She immediately wrapped her arms around him.

“Are you okay? You slipped and… I’m sorry! I should have had a better grip on you or…”

Ilya continued apologizing. Arkk just sat back, head against her soft chest. The awe and shock faded slowly as he stared up at the gray, overcast sky. Eventually, it reached a point where he sucked in a sharp breath. Arkk blinked. Had he been breathing before?

“Arkk?”

“I’m fine,” Arkk said slowly, words feeling strangely unfamiliar in his mouth. He licked his lips and shook his head, forcing himself to blink several more times. “Fine. Sorry for scaring you.”

“Scare me? I almost jumped down after you but then you just vanished.”

“He possessed me,” Vezta said when Arkk didn’t speak right away.

“Possessed?”

“I only used it once before. Testing with Zullie,” Arkk said, closing his eyes as he rested back against Ilya. Shaking out his arms, he started feeling a little more normal. “Not a spell I like to use—or even like the idea of—but it was the only thing that popped into my mind in my panic.”

“I would have caught you.”

Arkk nodded his head. “I figured but wasn’t completely sure…” Trailing off, he looked upward again. A regular, overcast sky hung overhead. “What…” he started, only to find himself unable to finish the question. “Are they still there?”

Ilya, behind him, tilted her head back to follow his gaze. “Are what still there?”

“The [STARS],” Arkk said.

Vezta nodded. “Always.”

“What are they saying?”

A pained look crossed Vezta’s face for a brief moment before she adopted her usual pleasant expression. “I don’t know,” she said, pointing a finger upward. “It’s broken.”

Arkk nodded slowly. That made sense… even if it didn’t. He hadn’t been able to understand them either. Those whispers, now gone, might have been nothing more than his imagination. He was sure that there had been words—even words he understood—but the meaning of the concepts failed to translate. Vezta’s [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE] worked so why wouldn’t that?

Because it was broken.

The shattered sky.

“The Calamity?” Arkk asked, only for Vezta to slowly shake her head.

“No. The sky shattered long before the Calamity. Long before the [PANTHEON] or this world existed. Primordial beings that were the first and will be the last,” she said with a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“But those are them, aren’t they? The [STARS]. The things the inquisitors fear and the things the gorgon could smell on me.”

“True. I do not know what the inquisitors fear for, however. They cannot meaningfully interact with any plane of existence. Even if they knew we were planning on reverting the Calamity, that wouldn’t be enough to fix the shattered skies. As for the gorgon, my kind was typically allied with those from other planes—which, the gorgon do hail from the [UNDERWORLD] originally.”

“Your kind… There are more of you?”

“Were. I feel like I would know if others had survived. I thought the [HEART] of Fortress Al-Mir beating once more would call to them. That none have responded is telling.”

“Sorry,” Arkk said, earning a shrug. “What… how did you get here if interaction is impossible?”

“[PANTHEON]. Specifically, Xel’atriss, Lock and Key.”

“The god of boundaries and barriers?” Arkk said, remembering Vezta’s introduction when they first created the temple room.

“The only being any have seen capable of reaching through the broken skies. She offered experience as opposed to observation. They couldn’t come through, even with the Lock and Key’s power, so they sent us [SERVANTS] in their place.”

Arkk licked his lips, trying one more time to ask the question he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer to. “What are they?”

“Primordial beings. The first and the last. They have no true name. But, as I am a [SERVANT] and was one before Fortress Al-Mir, the most apt term for them would be the [MASTERS].”

That feeling of curiosity and unease melded together at hearing the term pounded through his skull with the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE]. A discordant hum escaped his lips. At his back, even Ilya flinched and her breathing hitched. A feeling of insignificance threatened to crush him until Vezta reached forward, planting a hand on his.

“As I said, I wouldn’t worry. Or think about it. It is what it is and nothing any of us do will change that.”

Arkk shuddered but nodded his head. And to think Vezta’s former master possessed her often. Well, if they stayed within Fortress Al-Mir, he probably wouldn’t have seen the sky all that much. Even still, he had to have seen it. Now that Arkk had seen it, did he want to see it again?

The question brought up a void in Arkk’s mind. He wouldn’t say yes. At the same time, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say no. Perhaps, after a time to get used to the idea, he would decide one way or the other. For now, he just nestled back against Ilya, not making any attempt to disentangle himself from her arms.

Tragically, her head twitched to one side the way it did when her sharp ears caught an interesting sound. “I don’t quite know what is going on… I hear footsteps and voices approaching. They probably heard us shouting and are here to investigate. We don’t want to be caught spying on the Duke’s manor. Besides, you were supposed to meet with those Claymores who wanted to switch companies.”

“But it is so comfortable here,” Arkk said, pressing himself further against Ilya’s chest.

She looked down, frowned, and promptly shoved him off to the side. It was a halfhearted shove at best. Still, it got him off her. He stood slowly, not quite steady on his feet. Ilya grabbed one arm to steady him. At the same time, Vezta grabbed his other.

“Maybe we can snuggle later.”

“In your dreams.”

“I guess that will have to do,” Arkk grumbled.

With that, Ilya took the lead, using her senses to keep them from encountering anyone.

The entire way back to the stayover, Arkk found himself glancing upward every so often.