Fortress Al-Mir

“Haven’t we been this way before?”

“No.”

“You don’t know that. You can’t even see.”

“I see what I need to see.”

Leda glowered at the back of the dragonoid’s head. At one point in time, she had feared Priscilla would eat her. Or drop her. Having gone on more than a handful of these exploratory ventures with Priscilla, Leda wouldn’t say that she was afraid anymore. If the dragonoid were going to eat her, surely she would have done so already. That wasn’t to say that she didn’t fear becoming emergency rations should they become stranded but, at that point, getting killed might be preferable to dying of starvation.

Falling was still a concern. The harness that kept her strapped to Priscilla’s back had been upgraded. Every powerful downward thrust of Priscilla’s wings still made her stomach drop.

But with a lack of fear for the woman, Leda found annoyance filling that gap.

On their very first flight through this land, Priscilla had headed directly for that great walking tower as if she had known it was there. It was a massive find. One Arkk had been beyond happy to hear of. Enough to give Leda a large bonus. He gave a bonus to Priscilla as well, only for the dragonoid to toss the coin away as if it was worthless.

So, in effect, Leda had gotten two bonuses.

Despite her reservations about flying with the dragonoid, she had eagerly agreed to more outings in the Underworld.

Now, out here for the twentieth… thirtieth? How many times had they come out here on their flyovers? All without finding much of anything. There had been that church on their third or fifth flight. And a bunch of smaller villages, all left in ruins. For a few of the larger ruins, they had dived down to explore, only to find a Protector there saying that there wasn’t anything worth disturbing the shadows over.

Leda refused to believe that their first outing had been luck or coincidence. It had been too deliberate. Too focused.

“Don’t you see any more of those towers with your blind eyes?” Leda snipped, having to raise her voice to be heard over the rushing wind.

“A few. But they are so far off that it would take days if not weeks of flight to reach the nearest.”

“Shouldn’t we head toward one of them?” Leda asked, only to squeak in surprise as a particularly heavy thrust of Priscilla’s wings sent her bouncing off the dragonoid’s back. The leather of the harness snapped taut, keeping her in place, but it still sent jitters through her wings.

“What good would that do?” Priscilla barked back. “Arkk has to interact with them himself. I already asked if Arkk wanted transport out to them. He said he couldn’t leave Fortress Al-Mir alone that long while that avatar and that prince are out there.”

“Isn’t there any way we could bring one back? He doesn’t need the whole tower, right? Just the little ball thing.”

“If I try to touch the Heart of a fortress, I’ll lose more than just my eyes.”

“What? What does that mean?”

The dragonoid let out a low, grinding growl. One that vibrated through Priscilla’s back to the point where Leda felt like she might fall off even despite the harness. The air chilled along with the noise. All that fear that had gone away throughout their repeated expeditions rushed back in force.

“Sorry,” Leda mumbled, curling up on herself. “I didn’t…”

“I broke my contract,” Priscilla said in that same continued growl. “The Pantheon will undoubtedly strike me down if I touch one of their treasures.”

“I… I see.”

Leda didn’t see. There were a lot of mysterious things about Company Al-Mir and the magical fortresses Arkk had. He didn’t talk about them, but the mere fact that he could teleport around anyone who signed his contract as well as grant fairies the ability to cast magic, if in small and limited amounts, was proof that something unusual was going on.

This was the first she had heard of a pantheon.

Leda honestly wasn’t sure what she should do with that information. From Priscilla’s reaction to the question, it certainly sounded like something serious. Something she should not bring up with the dragonoid. The chill in the air was already starting to wane back toward that unpleasant heat that permeated the Underworld, but if she asked again, she might just find herself entrapped within a sheet of ice instead of safely returning to the fortress.

“What about me?” Leda asked, softly. When it seemed as if the dragonoid couldn’t hear her over the rush of wind, she cleared her throat and asked a little louder, “Could I touch the ball thing?”

Priscilla’s laughter was a rumble of thunder against the backdrop of wind as it shook the air around them. “A magicless fairy? Touch the Heart of a fortress?” She opened her maw in a wide laugh, showing off her sharp teeth as she angled her head backward.

Though the ice-covered her eyes, Leda still felt like she was seen.

Leda shirked away, feeling like she was the butt of a joke that she didn’t understand. Except, Priscilla didn’t continue with her laugh. She paused and stared with her head craned back over her shoulder, her countenance taking on a calculating expression.

Leda wasn’t sure she liked that expression.

“What does our food supply look like for the next…” Priscilla trailed off, looking about ahead of their flight trajectory. “The next four days? You can eat my portions.”

Leda wasn’t sure she liked that question either.

“Uh…”

“Hold on tight, little fairy,” Priscilla said.

Leda didn’t get a chance to respond before Priscilla folded her wings behind her. They angled downward, falling into a sharp dive that sent the wind roaring over the top of Leda’s head. “Ground! Ground!” she screamed as the terrain below got closer and closer. If Priscilla heard, she didn’t show it.

The stupid dragonoid might be able to survive a fall like this. Leda had no chance. She squeezed her eyes shut, grasping hold of her harness.

Except, the end didn’t come. Leda felt like her stomach sank into her boots, but beyond that, there was no sudden stop at the end. The wind was still rushing past, far faster than she had ever felt before with Priscilla. With a grimace, fearing what she might see, Leda nevertheless peeled open her eyes. She had to duck down and use Priscilla’s back to block most of the wind in order to see.

They were still flying. Much, much, lower now. If Leda were as tall as an elf, she could have stood on the ground below and clapped hands with Priscilla as she flew overhead. That was how low they were. But they were moving horizontally, flying straight ahead while the ground zoomed beneath them fast enough that it made Leda dizzy to watch it go by.

“I hope you’re prepared, little fairy!” Priscilla yelled out.

Leda shrank down, closing her eyes once again. She had no idea what she was supposed to be prepared for. All she knew was that she wasn’t prepared.

Not in the slightest.

“Inquisitor Vrox?”

Darius jolted, taking in a sudden breath as his eyes flicked around. The tall, tome-filled shelves of the archives stood around him. He was at one of the desks with several books open and a small glowstone providing a little extra light. One of the books was in his own writing and, unfortunately, now contained a large blob of black ink that had dribbled down one of the pages.

He took in another breath, trying to use the fresh air to wake himself up. It might have worked if he was still in the forests and mountains of Mystakeen. The air there, especially in the mornings, had a crisp chill and pleasant taste. In comparison, the air in Chernlock was as dry as the surrounding deserts and stiflingly hot. The air in the archives was particularly stale.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your rest,” a woman said, her voice carrying notes of amused humor.

Darius quickly gathered his composure, swiftly wiping at the ink with a small cloth, though that only smeared it further across the page. “No, no. I was just… engaged in a little mental reflection,” he said, straightening to face the woman. His voice carried a hint of embarrassment that he tried to mask with his usual professionalism.

The woman before him adopted a truly radiant smile, making him think he wasn’t all that successful. Lyra Zann stood on the other side of the desk. The High Librarian of the Chernlock Archives always had a bright smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes. If ever there was a woman more blessed by the Light, Darius had yet to lay eyes on them.

She pulled a chair from one of the nearby desks and slid it toward him before taking a seat. “You’ve been here every day since you arrived in Chernlock. Are you still yet to find what you have been seeking?”

The momentary good mood Darius felt awakening to Lyra’s face diminished somewhat as he looked down at his smeared notes. “Some,” he said. Sylvara was returning to Mystakeen with the knowledge they had uncovered regarding the creation of artifacts that have the capacity to bind abominable powers. The powers of avatars, presuming Arkk was correct.

It wasn’t an easy process. Darius wasn’t sure that they would be able to accomplish much, not having access to the high priests of the Abbey and their miraculous magics. But if anyone could use that knowledge outside the Abbey, it was Arkk.

Darius was still not sure that giving that information to Arkk was the right decision. But it wasn’t his decision at all. He had left it up to Sylvara. The inquisitrix would sooner partner with a demon than help the Golden Order’s avatar. At least Arkk, whatever else he was, was no demon.

“But not everything,” he finished, looking down at the half-written book in front of him. A compilation of everything he had found so far on the topic of gods. The fact that it fit all into half a book was telling.

Nobody knew anything.

There were bits and rumors here and there. A great deal on the Light, but it was difficult to discern what was fact and what was exaggerated dogma of the Abbey.

Lyra hummed a knowing note, grinning down at him like she knew something that he didn’t. “And you still won’t come to me for aid? I know my way around the archives, you know?”

Darius pressed his lips together. It was tempting to ask. When Sylvara had been here, they had asked the High Librarian about a few topics. Nothing sensitive, of course. The research they were conducting was borderline heresy. With Sylvara gone and left to fend for himself, research had slowed drastically… Slowly, Darius shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish to involve you in matters such as this. As it stands, the inquisition may not take kindly—”

“Oh please,” Lyra said, rolling her silvery eyes. “I have read every tome within the archives. I have memorized every tablet and looked over every scroll. If you’re reading something you found in here, I already know it.”

Breaking eye contact, Darius glanced up at the tall shelves around him. They were packed with books and tomes, charts and diagrams, scrolls, and even ancient texts that none could read today. And this was just one small section of the archives, the portion dedicated to historical works. The archives sprawled outward in every direction, there were always more and more shelves filled with more and more books. A single person claiming to have read all of them was… unbelievable.

His train of thought must have shown on his face. Lyra let out a light laugh.

“The Light has blessed me with a wakeful mind and a capacity for knowledge. As the Light sweeps away the night every morn, it is my duty as High Librarian to sweep away ignorance with enlightenment,” she said with a grin that swiftly turned into another laugh, one hearty enough to send ripples through her dark red hair.

Darius had to raise an eyebrow. Although clearly a joke, comparing oneself to the Light wasn’t something someone would normally do in front of an inquisitor. It was a step away from blasphemy.

Yet, her offer warranted consideration. It was an exaggeration, to be sure. She was older than Sylvara but still a good decade younger than Darius. To have read every book in the archives in that relatively short amount of time was absurd. She was still the High Librarian.

“I am seeking information on deities other than the Light.”

Rather than surprise, the High Librarian nodded knowingly. “I presumed so,” she said.

It caught Darius off guard a bit until he realized that someone who had read even the titles of the tomes he had stacked on his desk would be able to guess at his intentions, let alone reading the whole books.

“So, who? The Almighty Glory? The Heart of Gold?”

Darius stared at her for a moment. The first time he had heard those names in full had been within this very library, reading through ancient books. Everyone knew of the Gold, the Glory, and the Light. They made up the Three Divines, though current Abbey doctrine said that only the Light still remained active among them, as evidenced by the sun’s rays shining bright every morning.

“The Gold is one of my subjects of interest, yes,” Darius said, “but more than that, there is one other. A name I have yet to come across. Are you… aware of what occurred mid-winter? The Fissure in the Sky that streaked across Mystakeen for an hour?”

The incident had been visible even from Chernlock, he knew, but it hadn’t been as… intense. That false moon that had stared down from the fissure had barely been visible, for one.

“Ah,” Lyra said, leaning back in her chair. She folded her arms over her chest, covering up her usual attire of traditional librarian garb with subtle, intricate markings of a caster proficient in arcane magics. “You seek information on the one known as Xel’atriss, Lock and Key.”

Darius leaned forward. That she had been able to immediately say a name had caught his interest. He couldn’t say for certain whether it was the correct name, but the way Lyra sat there, radiating confidence, that alone made him trust her a little more. Then again, he supposed it made sense. The Ecclesiarch would surely have come to the High Librarian for information following that incident. It would be fresh in her mind.

“You know something?”

“I know everything,” Lyra said in a teasing note. “It is, after all, my duty to enlighten fools. You may not be a fool, but…” She grinned, then looked over the books on the desk. “It is no wonder you haven’t found what you have been searching for. You’re in the wrong section.”

“Old gods from before the Calamity would be historical—”

“This is why you should have come to me to begin with,” Lyra interrupted as she stood. “Come. Come, come, come.”

Without giving Darius a chance to argue, she started off through the archives, forcing Darius to grab his cane and hurry after her. They traveled to a stone staircase that spiraled up to different levels of the archives. But, instead of traveling up the spiral, Lyra moved underneath the stairs and, with one quick glance around, placed her hand on the wall.

A bright flash of silvery light forced Darius to turn away. It only lasted a moment but left several spots in his eyes. When he finally blinked them away, he found Lyra standing at a shimmering rectangle that hovered just off the wall. It was such a strange bit of magic that, at first, Darius wasn’t sure what to make of it. Until Lyra grabbed hold of his hand and dragged him through.

Then he knew. “Planar magic,” he whispered, looking at the High Librarian with far more suspicion.

She just smiled and shrugged. “There are things in this archive that not even the Ecclesiarch is aware of.”

The silver portal behind him cut off, sealing him in a smaller chamber that nonetheless resembled the archives outside this space. There were shelves, books, tomes, scrolls, desks, and even a bowl of silvery liquid that had a faint glow to it. A scrying pool?

Lyra caught him looking. “I’ve dabbled in oracle training,” she said as if that was some casual thing anyone could do. “Which reminds me, it may interest you to know that the blindness that had stricken the Abbey’s oracles around the time of that fissure incident has been lifted.”

Darius had heard of that. It was part of why the Abbey had been in such disarray for much of the war. He didn’t speak, however. He stared at Lyra, trying to decide what his next course of action was to be. Dragging an inquisitor through planar magic like this… She was either a fool in the extreme or confident that Darius wouldn’t do anything.

From the way she casually walked through the small archives and took a seat at the scrying pool, crossing her legs and folding her arms, made him think this was far more on the confidence side of things.

“Welcome, Darius Vrox, to the hidden archives. All the ancient lore and lost mythos that you’ve been seeking can be found here. I cannot guarantee that it holds the answers to everything you’ve been seeking, but I can guarantee that you won’t find anything like this outside this space.

“But only the High Librarian can enter and exit this space at will. I will grant you access on one condition. One little payment in return. There is something I wish to know and I believe you can help enlighten me.”

Darius licked his lips, watching as she leaned forward. The silver light from the bowl reflected off her eyes, making them look as if they were glowing. “And that is?”

“I wish to know of the one who caused the fissure incident. The current master of Fortress Al-Mir?” She grinned again, though this time, her smile held little humor. “Tell me of Arkk.”

Darius tapped his finger against the end of his cane, thinking for a long moment. His eyes broke away from Lyra Zann, looking over the books stacked on the shelves. Just from their appearance alone, he could tell that they were ancient. Yet, they were in impeccably good condition. Not a spec of dust adorned even the fine wood of the shelves.

Slowly, he stepped forward, sliding into the seat across from the scrying pool.

“What do you wish to know?”