Fortress Al-Mir

If Arkk had known how little he would have had to do, he might have been able to sleep. Knowing that he had forgotten something, that some part of his plan was faulty, that something would go wrong had filled him with enough anxiety that he wound up sitting awake in bed, going over everything even as the hours ticked by. Arkk now found himself sitting in the meeting room, twiddling his thumbs, wondering if he had over-planned everything.

Using a crystal ball, he had watched the inquisitors round up all the volunteers—a total of about fifty people, only a small number of whom were mercenaries—and their meeting. The crystal balls didn’t provide sound but he could guess at what they were saying from the motions to the map on the wall and the way they all split apart into groups. They were organizing how to search the Cursed Forest.

After about an hour, they took off, marching toward the border of the Cursed Forest. Most of the people were on foot but a small handful, including the inquisitors, were mounted on horseback. Despite their horses, they stuck close to the groups of walkers. Arkk assumed their horses were more for rapidly communicating with others rather than for searching. The ten groups of five were spread out far enough that there were fairly significant gaps between them.

They were not making good time. In fact, they were slow enough as they wandered back and forth in wavy patterns that Arkk wondered if they were planning on camping out overnight partway across. Having started from Stone Hearth Burg in the southwest, they would have to cross more than half of the Cursed Forest before they came across the false fortress. They would also pass over the actual fortress well in advance of that.

All-in-all, Arkk had stressed out over what was turning out to be a rather dull morning. At their current pace, they wouldn’t even arrive until the next day.

“Vezta,” Arkk said, glancing over to the other occupied seat at the table. When it became apparent that today wouldn’t see any significant activity, he had sent Ilya, Rekk’ar, Zullie, and Khan off to do whatever they wanted to do, leaving just him and Vezta keeping an eye on matters. “I’ve been meaning to ask but have gotten consistently distracted… How come I couldn’t hire on the two elf children?”

“There aren’t many reasons. If they were already bound to another Keeper, that would stop you. I doubt that is the case given the current state of the world. The Darkwood Keeper was likely an anomaly.” Vezta looked up from her own crystal ball, though a few of her spare eyes dotted around her body maintained their focus. “A few other magically binding loyalty agreements might similarly block your ability to hire. However, let me ask you this: Did you want to hire them?”

“Of course. I needed to get them here and intended to use Fortress Al-Mir’s magic to do so.”

“You wanted to use the fortress magic, but did you want to hire them? Put them to work in your rooms, have them assist your operations, and protect and serve you?”

Arkk pressed his lips together, frowning. “I hired Hale for much the same reasons. I needed to get her here and away from the inquisitors.”

“You intended to use her for the ritual. For the elves, you saw their misbegotten state and rejected the notion of inflicting additional problems on them by having them serve you. The [HEART] is aware of your intentions.”

Drumming his fingers on the table, Arkk hummed. “Alright. I’ll grant it that. But if it is aware of what I want, why do I feel like the elf children are prisoners?”

“Because they are. The function of taking captives is far more automatic than hiring. You effectively sequestered the elves away in their own section of the fortress and are preventing them from leaving. Regardless of your wants they are prisoners. That affords you certain control over them. The magic of the [HEART] treats them as if they are property, which is why you can transport them around at will.”

“Can I?” Arkk asked, focusing on the prisoner link between him and the elf children. He hadn’t tried moving them around. Not since initially transporting them from Smilesville to the fortress and that had been in his arms. Thinking about it now, he found Vezta’s claim accurate. “They really aren’t prisoners, though. They aren’t locked into their rooms or anything.”

“It is a power dynamic. Were they older, stronger, or simply capable of defending themselves, you would likely have to be a bit more thorough to keep the magic identifying them as prisoners. Yet they are children. Powerless children.

“Forgive me for speaking of my former master yet again, but I will say that he had entire rooms the size of the orc barracks dedicated to containing prisoners. Deep pits and oubliettes with large spikes keeping even the most deft of climbers from escaping. Magic dampening kept them from using any mystical methods of escape.”

“Multiple rooms the size of the orc barracks? How many captives did he keep?” Arkk could understand needing some space for captivity. If he had one of those pits, he might have been tempted to throw Savren inside. Keeping thirty or more captives in a single room and having several of those rooms?

Arkk hoped he didn’t have that many enemies.

“He fought in wars. Quite successfully, I might add. To further bolster his ranks, any captured alive would be… tempted to join him. He had minions in his employ who specialized in methods to convince people that life was better under him.”

“The emphasis you are putting on certain words is concerning.”

Vezta merely smiled.

Arkk didn’t bother asking for more details. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear all that much about her former master. Instead, Arkk asked, “Do you remember the schematics for one of those prison rooms?”

“I truly only know basic rooms, rooms that my former master created while possessing me. A prison was not one of those rooms, unfortunately. However, a pit with spikes around the sides is simple enough to construct. The magical wards may be more difficult.”

“Zullie should be able to help with that, right?”

“I shall ask, if you would like. Although…”

“I know,” Arkk said with a sigh. “You’re stretched thin.”

“While I appreciate the trust you put in me to manage so many of your affairs, I do feel as if my talents are being appropriated improperly.” Vezta demurely motioned to the crystal ball in front of her. “Scrying is something I am capable of even while working on other matters, however it is a simple, base task that any of your minions should be able to accomplish with minimal training. Offloading at least that much onto others would allow me to focus more energies on more important matters.”

Humming, Arkk nodded his head. “I’ll ask Dakka if any of the orcs are interested in learning to scry. Keep it up for now, however,” he said, standing. “I’ll be back shortly. Alert me if…” Arkk trailed off, looking into the crystal ball at the handful of people trudging through the desolate wasteland that was the Cursed Forest. “Well, if anything happens. Doubt anything will, though.”

“Of course, Master.”

Arkk transported himself out of the meeting room. Not to Dakka—who was personalizing some of the new armor Arkk had ordered for everyone using some kind of red paint she got from who knew where—but to the section of the fortress he had cordoned off for the two elf children. It wasn’t far from his and Ilya’s rooms, just around the corner, and wasn’t technically restricted to any of his minio—any of his employees. To the best of his knowledge, only Ilya, Hale, and John had visited them since their arrival.

Even Arkk had been avoiding them as much as possible. Part of that was because he had been running around the nation, working. The other part was just that Arkk found them a bit… unnerving. They barely spoke to anyone, or so he had heard from Hale and John, and didn’t do anything either. When nobody was around, they just sat inside their quarters and that was it. It wasn’t living so much as it was languishing.

As Keeper of Fortress Al-Mir, he had brought them in. They were his responsibility. Avoiding them forever wasn’t going to fix anything.

He had no idea what to do.

Ilya, currently speaking with Olatt’an in the canteen, wasn’t with them at the moment. Hale was having an impromptu lesson with Zullie.

Knocking at the door, Arkk waited. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open. Neither of the elves opened it. Instead, John stood in the doorway. The old carpenter had a long apron on that was covered in little chips of wood. A few metal tools poked out of his pockets and he held a small block of wood, partially carved on one side, in his hand.

Having peeked into the room, Arkk had known that John was there. In the past few days, John had taken up the task of teaching the elf children to whittle wood. It was a good hobby and one Arkk approved of. There wasn’t much else for children to do here, unfortunately. Not unless he put them to work.

“Arkk?” John asked, a bit of shock on his face. “Did something go wrong with the inquisitors?”

“No. Nothing like that. I doubt they’re even going to be here before tomorrow. Maybe not even then. I got worked up over nothing—or at least too early—and now I’m mostly looking to take my mind off things.” Arkk leaned slightly to one side, looking over John’s shoulder.

Both of the elves dropped their gazes the moment he looked their way. They didn’t flinch away and the young girl didn’t fix him with a glare like the first time they had met. That felt like a fairly large improvement to Arkk.

Both held wooden blocks in their hands. The girl’s was a bit of a mess. Even taking a closer look with his Keeper vision, he couldn’t tell at all what it was supposed to be. The boy’s, on the other hand, was a horse. It looked like something he had been working on for a few days at least, given the detail.

“How are they doing?” Arkk asked, looking back to John.

John glanced back for just a moment before stepping out into the hall, letting the door shut behind him. “Better than when I first saw them,” he said with a mild sigh. “Yavin has taken to woodwork like he was born to do it. Might have done it in the past, don’t know, they don’t talk about their time before coming here. Honestly, might ask him if he is interested in more professional work.” At that, John shot Arkk a mild glare.

“Hale still wants to do woodwork, doesn’t she?”

“You and I both know that won’t last. The girl has been spending more and more time with that witch. Comes back every day with some new scribbles to draw on the floor,” he said with a sad shake of his head. “Don’t think she ever was this excited about new carving techniques.”

Arkk couldn’t help his smile. “There’s something special about blowing up your first ritual circle,” he said with a nostalgic sigh.

John raised an eyebrow. “Hale hasn’t blown anything up.”

“Really? Huh.”

“Anyhow, Yavin is doing well. I am a bit worried about Nyala though. She… Rather than carving wood, she mostly just… mutilates it.”

“Woodwork isn’t for everyone,” Arkk said with a withering laugh.

“If it was just that, I wouldn’t be concerned.” John rubbed the back of his head, tossing a glance at the closed door. As if they could hear through it, he dropped his voice to a quiet whisper. “She’s got some anger issues but she hides them well. They really just come out when she has a whittling knife and block of wood in hand. Don’t think she likes me much either. Doesn’t hide that quite as well.”

Arkk hummed, leaning up against the stone wall. “Think they want to get out of here?”

“They haven’t said anything like that to me,” John said with a negative shake of his head. “I wouldn’t bet against it, however.”

“We left our horse back at Darkwood,” Arkk said with a frown. “I’ve been meaning to see if I can’t purchase a new one. I noticed Yavin’s carving was a horse. Maybe he would like to go. And Nyala… think she would rather have a book instead of a block of wood?” None of the books currently in the fortress were well-suited to children. In fact, almost every tome was a book on magic in some variety or other. “Can she read?”

“I can’t really judge that. Not too literate myself.” John shrugged. “You want to take them to town? Now?”

“As I said, I doubt the inquisitors will be around before tomorrow at the earliest. As long as we don’t go too far, I’ll be able to instantly transport everyone back here if there is an emergency.”

Besides that, if they stopped by at Stone Hearth Burg, maybe he could get some information from anyone who heard Inquisitor Vrox’s speech and see if he couldn’t get a few more details on exactly what their plans were out here. Arkk didn’t like to call that an ulterior motive. Just using every opportunity to its fullest potential.

“Well,” John said, “we can ask them.”

Nodding, Arkk motioned for John to reenter the room first.

The door swung open on its own as soon as they decided to head back inside. The two elves were still on the floor. Neither looked like they had moved much in the short time they had been alone. Yavin, having picked up his knife again, did have a slightly larger pile of shavings around his feet.

Their room was fairly barebones. Plain beds. Plain walls. The only thing of real note was the woven reeds covering the floor and the odd give they had when stepped on. Like the floor wasn’t perfectly stable. Their room, like every other personal room in Fortress Al-Mir, used the magic of the living room to generate customized living space. Arkk wondered if the bare-bones nature of the room came from them being considered prisoners or if they just didn’t have well-formed desires for their living quarters.

“Hey kids,” Arkk said, feeling incredibly awkward all of a sudden. He had barely said more than twenty words to either of them. Did they even know who he was? “Don’t know if you remember me. I came to meet you when you first came here. My name is Arkk. I run this place.”

Both kids stared at him. Yavin had his eyes locked somewhere around Arkk’s chest, not lifting his eyes up to Arkk’s face. On the other hand, Nyala looked at him directly in the face. Her eyes were the picture of innocence but something—a hint through the prisoner link they shared—leaked defiance. She was testing him. Perhaps checking to see if he would beat her if she openly stared at him.

“So,” Arkk said. “You might remember I gave each of you a gold coin? Not much place to spend it here, is there? I was thinking about heading into one of the local burgs—I’m in the market for a horse,” he said, trying not to give a meaningful look at Yavin. The boy did raise his eyes, however. “I thought to myself, why not see if either of you wants to go to town with me? I don’t know that any horses will be on the market but I have a few books and other things to gather at the same time,” he said, this time trying to gauge Nyala’s reaction.

She didn’t react. Her facial expression didn’t change in the slightest.

Arkk suppressed a shudder, wondering exactly what these kids had been through before deciding that he was probably better off not knowing.

“Or whatever else strikes our fancy,” he finished, feeling a bit lame about it. “Any takers?” When they didn’t respond after a long few moments, Arkk glanced at John. “John will be coming as well.”

“I will?”

“And Ilya, if that will make you feel better about coming,” Arkk said, ignoring John’s surprised look.

Finally, the young boy spoke. “Horses?”

One word. Still, that was one word more than Arkk had ever heard from them. “Horses. If I can find one to buy, how would you like to visit it here at the stables?”

For their old horse, one of the rooms had been converted into a straw-filled pasture-like room. It probably wasn’t as good as being able to roam an open field but it was all they had. Maybe after the inquisitors left, they could build something topside. But that land was still a dry, dead wasteland.

The boy considered Arkk’s words for a moment before simply nodding his head.

“I’m going too,” Nyala said. She spoke clearly, not breaking her eye contact with Arkk. Lacking the trodden look she had sported upon their first meeting, Arkk might have overlooked some of her oddities if he hadn’t known better. She almost sounded normal there. Except… not quite.

Arkk noted two things. First was the subtle anger that John had mentioned. Arkk got the impression that he wasn’t too well-liked either.

The other thing was that this was yet another test. She hadn’t asked if she could come or said she would come. She effectively demanded to come. Arkk didn’t mind. He imagined her former owner would have been a bit harsher in his treatment after getting those simple three words in response to a question.

“Great,” Arkk said, hoping his smile didn’t look too forced. “Let me go speak with Ilya and we’ll be on our way.”