by A. D. Wills
Snillrik pointed at the entrances on the city plans for Chryssa to look at.
“I've never seen him do anything about them before, so we should be able to get inside,” Chryssa replied.
“That makes this a little easier then. You see, the steam is designed to flow up and around this way, however if we closed this vent, it would be forced to be redirected right into the dead end against the quarry. Granted, it's far from guaranteed, and the timing would need to be precise. Once the switch is hit, whoever is down there will need to move quickly before the steam is redirected.”
“So how're we gonna distract them up here?” Caden asked.
“We don't have any means of acquiring anything of importance to lure the guards further in town. Thus, we will need to pose enough of a threat, so as to make the guards feel the need to stop it,” Snillrik paused, drawing up some kind of plan internally. “If I have the materials, I know I can make something large enough to launch rocks, debris—anything really to cause enough of an uproar to get the guards' attention.”
“My father's storage down below in the basement has some wooden planks, maybe a few rusty old beams too, if that's enough,” Chryssa suggested. “We won't be able to sneak any materials though. Everything's on tight watch throughout the day.”
“That should more than suffice,” Snillrik said as they envisioned what to build. “Once the guards come in closer, in theory of course, we can have the townsfolk in the streets use the alleys to our advantage, neutralizing some of the guards by trapping them in as they approach. We will have the element of surprise at night, and the sudden confusion should cause quite the stir."
“Sounds like you've got this all taken care of then, Snill,” Caden said with brimming confidence.
“W-Well, there could be some room for error of course, and reliant upon gathering enough help to both warrant enough of a threat, and mount a surprise attack into the quarry.”
“I don't hear any better ideas," said Zasha.
"Alright, then I guess we've got ourselves a plan," Caden held his fist out, looking around at the others with encouraging eyes.
“What are you doing?” Zasha asked.
“Come on, you know, you're supposed to put your fists out too, like this. We've gotta make it official.” Caden grabbed Sappo, and Snillrik's wrists, putting them out beside his. “Now, you two.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I'm not moving until you put your fists in here, it's a bond and promise between friends!”
Chryssa conceded with a cringing look, putting her fist in alongside, as they all waited for Zasha.
Zasha bit her tongue, rolling her eyes away, before finally conceding but looked away out of embarrassment. “This is ridiculous...”
“Let's get this started on kicking Workal's ass out of here!" Caden flung his hand up in the air, with the others awkwardly following suit.
Chapter 21: Calaera
It's been long after Dreymond should have returned from the Summit, and calm anticipation began to shift into anxiousness. No matter what reason Calaera, Lorin or Shyn tried to convince themselves of for him being late, there was no getting around the fact that Dreymond should have returned by now, and on top of that, no word has been sent to tell them why.
Calaera endlessly wondered why there hadn't been any word coming their way from Faella, or even a letter from her Father, confirming he might be staying longer. She thought if either of them did that much, her worries would be erased in an instant. However, being two whole days after his expected return, Calaera hasn't been able to manage getting any sleep at all. She spent the last couple of nights pacing around frantically in an effort to stay awake, or putting on some tea in the dead of night while she stared daggers at the gates, as if to try and will them open herself. But eventually, even she succumbed to the lack of sleep, passing out in a chair atop the overlooking balcony.
Shyn came by after sunrise to check on Calaera after he sneaked in last night to lay a blanket over her, so as to ensure she wouldn't catch a cold. He tried to swoop down behind her in silence as he was so usually skilled at doing, but upon touching down onto the railing of the balcony, he noticed of Calaera's eyes scrunching.
“You're getting rusty, Shyn,” Calaera said with a smirk as she sat upright, noticing the bright day upon them.
Seeing Calaera smile—even if only for a moment, lifted his spirits a little. After having seen her riddled with nothing but worry for the past couple of days, he was happy to see her have a bit of fleeting relief.
“Have you learned anything?” Calaera asked, but she knew what the answer was likely to be. If Lorin wake her, then her Father wasn't here, and no word would have been sent either. She clung onto hope though, she had to.
“Nothing yet,” Shyn sighed. “Has Lorin sent any message to Faella in the meantime?”
“He said he did yesterday morning, so any reply should have arrived late last night, or this morning,” she replied.
At least Shyn could be at peace knowing they've done everything they could from their end here, as little of a consolation as that might be to any of them right now.
The awkward, worried silence shared between Calaera and Shyn ended when Shyn's attentive ears picked up on Lorin's steps approaching down the hall. “Lorin's on his way here now, so I'll have to leave, but I'll be listening in,” Shyn jumped off with reckless abandon off the railing in a nosedive. He wanted to leave with words of encouragement like 'stay strong' or 'everything will be alright' but he couldn't bring himself to say them out loud. He could only wish for them. And besides, he knew Calaera was the one he and Lorin were really leaning on the most right now.
“Milady!” Lorin shouted down the hall with unbelievable energy, considering he had been just as sleep deprived as Calaera, whilst personally combing over every letter that came in these past couple of days. “I brought you some warm tea to perhaps give you a little pick me up.” Lorin cupped a big mug full of steaming hot tea that he presented to Calaera.
“Thank you, Lorin,” Calaera took a sip, and it warmed her body immediately from head to toe.
“I regret that this is all I can offer you at the moment however,” Lorin went out and got ahead of the question he knew Calaera wanted to ask. “That said, I assure you, that you will be the first to know of anything at all.”
Calaera nodded, admittedly a little disappointed to say the least, but understood it wasn't Lorin's fault. She knew he was exhausting every option he could think of, and doing everything he could, but she still had the aching empty feeling of wanting to do more.
Lorin fished around for anything to say to Calaera that might provide her any semblance of assurance, but he quickly became distracted by growing noise below in the city.
Calaera also noticed something rising up within the city, buzzing with loud chatter that echoed up to her and Lorin on the balcony just above.
Calaera rushed over to the edge of the railing to check what the fuss was all about, and saw some of the citizens gathering around as someone walked through the crowd, but she couldn't tell who it was. There weren't any cheers or anything of the like, but only amazement and chatter, as everyone converged on whoever was making their way through the city streets, like a folding wake. She could tell it wasn't her Father.
“Have you been expecting anyone, Lorin?” Calaera asked.
“Not that I am aware of,” Lorin said, equally curious as to who this might be. “Prince Clovis should be arriving, but he has already sent word in the meantime he'll be a little late, due to unsightly weather on the high seas between Ethril and Worros. If you would excuse me then, milady, please allow myself to greet whoever this is.”
“If they seek an audience, please bring them up here to speak with me, Lorin,” she directed. She disliked the idea of taking over in any way for her father, but in his stead it was her duty, regardless of the current uneasy and unknown circumstances.
Calaera could delegate most menial tasks to Lorin, or those she w
asn't familiar with for now, but right now whether she liked it or not, she was the acting ruler of the Kingdom of Ethril until her Father returned. It wasn't up to her whether she wanted to act like it or not.
“Very well, milady.” Lorin bowed, and rushed off in blinding paranoia.
Calaera was wide awake now, but to keep herself a little preoccupied—if only for a few short moments—she slowly poured herself another cup of tea, and watched as the last drop rippled in her cup, when some heavy footsteps approaching. Much to her surprise, she turned to see Lorin leading Xokun inside.
This was the first time Calaera had ever seen an Etai in person before, and had no idea who Xokun was either, but seeing him here, it was all the reason she needed to release her heart down into her stomach to rot in sorrow. She had all run out of excuses to convince herself of hope.
“Milady, I present to you, Xokun of the elemental council,” Lorin said in a somber tone, bowed his head, and made way for Xokun to meet Calaera.
Even knowing the obvious, Calaera squeeze down hard on her heart, and stop it from pouring out.
Xokun noticed their faces that hardly concealed the sadness they felt upon seeing him. “Queen Calaera, I humbly request your immediate audience, if I may be so bold.” Xokun knelt down and bowed his head.
Calaera squeezed her cup of tea, as the sinking feeling in her stomach worsened. Being called Queen by an outsider right now was the last thing she wanted to hear, and it confirmed every bit of her darkest fears and thoughts she's been harboring.
“Of course, please, sit.” Calaera forcibly swallowed a lump in her throat.
Xokun thought this wasn't right, that it wasn't fair—that Calaera should be alone with her thoughts right now. Unfortunately, he had to be here. If there was any other option he would have taken it.
“Please forgive me for this intrusion, and for being here in what is sure to be a trying time...” Xokun apologized, and took his seat across from Calaera.
“Why did the others in Faella not send us any word until now?” Lorin cut in. His tears rolled down his angered face, the likes of which was never seen by Calaera in all her years. “This isn't right...it simply isn't...”
“My deepest apologies. I left Faella as soon as I could to relay information here.” Xokun bowed his head. He understood Lorin had every right to be angry with him or anything else right now. If letting everyone lashing out at him would help in any way, Xokun would gladly allow it.
“It's alright, Xokun. Please, tell me everything,” Calaera insisted, despite the knot in her stomach telling her to ignore it.
“I regret that with a heavy heart I must inform you of your father's tragic untimely passing. We could have sent a letter, but we all felt it to be wholly inappropriate. In Zaes and Wonoda's stead, I am here to pass their thoughts along.”
“I see...” Calaera said, firmly pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth to put a full stop to her tears from flowing. “Then please, tell me how this city is without its King, and I, my father. Tell me everything, Xokun,” Calaera pushed down her sadness as deep as she possibly could into a shielding ball of festering frustration.
Xokun explained all the events of the Summit, Eszu's furious exit, Wonoda rejoining Gamriss. All of it.
Calaera sat in silence, playing out the events in her mind, but none of it provided her with any reason as to why or how her father had died—why he wouldn't return home to her. As much as she wanted to simply get the hastened short answer, Calaera waited.
“Unfortunately all the answers we have pertaining to your father's death, is this," Xokun again wore a grim expression, and pulled out a worn out crinkled letter. "It was sent to us a day after when your Father should have returned home."
Calaera took the letter, and read it aloud. “To the powers that be, your King has fallen, and so soon will your Kingdoms that stand propped up upon our broken backs. Our alliance will finally take back our rightful freedoms in Gamriss, without your tyranny overshadowing us any longer—without deciding what is right or wrong for us like parents looking after some troublesome children.” Calaera's eyes filled with rage. “What is this?” Calaera asked in utter disgust, and rapidly scanned over the letter to notice the signatures of Eszu, Grog—chieftain of the Ogres of Black-Bog—and the names of Tepis and Kuxori rebels scattered all over it.
Lorin stood pained by the words Calaera read. It felt as if someone was squeezing at his heart, and trying to yank it down into his stomach. He was torn up inside seeing Calaera reading this. Lorin wanted to reach out and help her, but he knew that Calaera was far more capable of handling her emotions than he ever was.
Shyn sat perched just outside, listening in to every word. He stared off in the distance, with his facial wrappings soaking up his tears as he remembered back to when Dreymond first met him. All he thought about, was the one who gave him life and purpose, was now taken from him.
I should have been there to protect him...Shyn internalized, biting his bottom lip.
He wasn't there to protect Dreymond, just like he had done for Shyn so many years ago when Dreymond found him as a young eight year-old boy without a name, clutching a bloodied dagger with shaky hands. He was unsure of what or who he even was. Shyn was nothing but a husk before Dreymond took him in. No purpose, no memory, nothing. He felt like he owed everything to Dreymond. He raised Shyn on his own in secret—mentoring him, teaching him to read, and most importantly, to think for himself. He gave everything to Shyn—freedom and a life that he wouldn't otherwise have. He was as close to any Father Shyn might have had, and it hurt just as much as it would losing one.
All Shyn wanted to do was dart off, and take the heads of those who had anything to do with Dreymond's death, but he knew he couldn't leave Calaera. He had to be here now more than ever, just as Dreymond told him to always keep a watchful eye over her, and no matter how much he wished to take matters into his own hands, Shyn refused to disobey Dreymond, even now.
“This deplorable alliance united through hatred and division, is unforgivable. For them to think that they have been mistreated, misrepresented and oppressed...” Xokun stopped short of letting his anger really seep through, seeing it unfit for an Etai to do so, but he truly struggled to keep his calm before the Queen.
“How could Eszu so easily abandon his allies like this—to help these people kill my father over a disagreement? My Father even offered them refuge elsewhere,” Calaera fairly lashed out.
“I'm afraid anger has blinded Eszu from all reason, and resorted to shameful tactics that we all thought he was better than. I'm afraid whether or not he was convinced or twisted by this alliance, or did so entirely on his own, is irrelevant now. Eszu has made his choice.”
Calaera reached to light a candle on the middle of the table. “And about this alliance, is there anything else you know about them?” Calaera asked with cold eyes, hovering the letter to burn away above the flame.
“Unfortunately, that's everything we know about them. But I was also tasked with asking you one more thing while I'm here,” Xokun hesitated to ask.
“There's no need to hold back, Xokun. You're among allies here.”
“The barrier of Faella, somehow it was brought down, and without it, Zaes is dying. Due to his advanced age, a diluted Faella can't sustain him. Thus, Kohos will ascend to Sage, and Wonoda will be joining Gamriss as noted before. What Zaes and Kohos need to know, despite these circumstances, is if you...as Queen, will continue this relationship your Father, and Zaes once had.”
“Of course I will,” Calaera replied without a moment's pause. “I refuse to let this alliance try to wedge their way between the work my Father has tried so hard to do these past twenty years. If there is anything I can do, I won't hesitate to do so.”
“Thank, my lady, thank you,” Xokun felt a slim sense of relief. Her will, it's unbelievably strong. Much brighter than her Father's—much warmer. I can feel her pain. I can feel it begging to be let out, but she won't let it.
“Thank y
ou for telling me all of this, Xokun.” Calaera looked like she wanted to say more, but she couldn't right now. The more she lingered on her Father, the tougher it was to keep everything pushed down. “But we don't have time to waste.”
“What do you mean?” Xokun asked.
“There's no doubt they view us as vulnerable right now, a city without its King, and without having an experienced replacement,” Calaera cited her old books about battles she so adored to read. “If I were this alliance, I would attack Lyndenwell right away. They said it themselves, they don't plan to stop with my Father. As much as I don't want to focus on this, they would be foolish to squander this chance, and wait for us to fortify ourselves during a period of uncertainty."
Calaera bit down. As much as she wanted to mourn her Father, and give him a proper ceremony, they wouldn't have the time to do it, not now.
“Is it at all possible to evacuate the City?” Xokun asked.
“I'm afraid that won't be an option,” Calaera stated. “For one, I doubt we would be able to get enough people out in time, or far enough away, but even if we did...I refuse to concede my City to the likes of those traitors. I won't let them achieve a single victory from this. This city is my Father's pride and treasure. I'm going to make sure I protect it to the end."
“I will offer my aid where possible, but I must remind you, I cannot aid in the defense of the city—not in a fight at least. Is there any kind of army, or defenses that you might be able to activate?” Xokun asked.
“Lyndenwell hasn't had an active army in years. Commander Reiner used to command units in my father's army, but not since the Starborn has my father appointed any generals. He didn't see a need to have generals in a time of peace, and I can't blame him for not seeing this kind of betrayal coming. Whoever is willing to defend their home, and everything it stands for, that will be enough. It has to be. But first, Lorin.”
“Yes, milady,” Lorin stood ready.
