by Levi Samuel
On more than one occasion Inyalia’s father preached about the mentality of the nobles. They were more than content to spend three times as much coin on something, simply because someone claimed it was worth more. Inyalia remembered him taking her into one of the shops. They looked at a yellow dress with a hem like scrolling flowers. Inyalia desperately wanted it, but he told her to wait. They then went to the market square, where the exact same dress was on display in the tailor’s shop. Only the price was less than half. Be on the lookout for artificial inflation, he’d say. Just because something looks nice doesn’t mean you can’t find it elsewhere, for a fraction of the cost.
Pulled from her memory, Inyalia followed Tylor through the arch and onto the road leading straight into the district. They passed a row of stocks.
Inyalia had only seen them occupied once. The guards had locked a thief in the wooden device. She wondered how anybody could handle such torture. He’d been humiliated and put on display for all to see. Aside from the uncomfortable position, there was rotten fruit smashed upon his face and littering the ground around him. Flies bit at his skin, lapping up the sweet juices and blood alike. He’d been helpless to do a thing about it. Inyalia remembered him like it was yesterday. She recalled thinking she never wanted to be a thief. It was too embarrassing.
The road continued between a few large buildings and opened into a bricked courtyard. This was the second largest section of the city, next to the trade district. It spanned nearly half a mile wide and was twice as long, divided into four sections. The magi held quarters to the south, though there was no official tower here. Straight ahead, comprising the lower west wall, the Ranger’s Stronghold was the smallest section of the district. With so many other strongholds spread across Trendensil, their presence here was little more than a formality. North of the rangers and extending beyond the wall was the Navy’s Hub. They had their own gate which opened to the port. And everything else was the property of the Army, encompassing the entire north and most of the east section. It connected to the royal quarter and Aceldon Citadel beyond that.
Where the rest of the city’s populace had been morose, the people here were the complete opposite. Soldiers rushed from building to building. Carts were loaded with supplies. Weapons, armor, rations, even tents and bedrolls were being transported from the various supply warehouses and taken elsewhere. Inyalia had never seen the army this active before. If she didn’t know any better, they were preparing for war. Lost in the sight of it all, she hadn’t noticed Tylor continue on without her. Running to catch up, she dodged a unit of soldiers dressed for battle. They were marching south.
Inyalia caught up just as Tylor reached the stronghold. Compared to the other buildings in the area, it was relatively simple. The rangers rarely operated within Camruun City, though there was rumored to be a small detachment that served as the king’s personal guard. Between the city guard and the army, there wasn’t much room for them. It was for that reason, Inyalia was surprised to find the stronghold packed full of rangers.
Tylor fought his way through the mass. There were representatives from nearly every unit, all crowding for space. Something major had to have happened for this kind of turn out. Fortunately, most were Ranger-Sergeants or lower. That gave him some room to move, as no one wanted to get in the way of a lieutenant. Reaching the main chamber, Tylor made his way to the staircase along the left wall. It curved around to meet its twin at the upper level, but he didn’t need to go that high. This was simply a means to give him a better view as to what was causing the commotion.
At the head of the chamber, upon the mezzanine, the Ranger-General stood over a large table. Several pieces of parchment were scattered before him. Desperately flipping through the pages, he looked up at the officer standing before him. “Lieutenant Sykes, I want you to take your company to Ryse. You’ll rendezvous with Lieutenant Mayers. We cannot allow these animal attacks to continue. There’s too much at stake elsewhere. Wipe out the bear population if you have to. Just ensure the attacks stop.”
“Yes, sir!” The lieutenant gave a quick salute and turned, disappearing among the throng of rangers awaiting order.
Searching the faces around him, Kalen selected another officer. Returning his attention to the stack, he flipped through, selecting a task suited to the elf’s abilities.
“Inyalia!” Tylor shouted over the chatter. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her through the masses and onto the stairs with him.
Inyalia scanned the crowd, finding her father at the head. He looked older than she remembered. He had bags under his eyes, and his skin didn’t appear as golden as it once was. If anything, he appeared to be in desperate need of sleep.
“Let’s get to him. I believe he’ll want our report. And of course, he’ll want to see his daughter.” Tylor smiled, seeing her eyes light up. Taking her hand, he led her through the crowd. They were reaching the officers, which meant his rank was less likely to aid them much longer. Seeing an opening, he squeezed through and rapidly climbed the steps.
Inyalia followed as close as she dared. She was feeling trapped among all these people. But more than that, it made no sense. Why was her father dealing with the masses? He enjoyed knowing the men under his command on a personal level, but this went against everything she knew of the corps. Where was the chain of command? The Ranger-General oversaw the corps as a whole. His orders passed to the Ranger-Lords, who commanded the four battalions and served as his advisors. Each battalion was comprised of ten companies, and each company held five units of rangers. It was the lords who should have been passing orders to the captains, who in turn would carry it down the line. Where were the lords? And why were so many others here?
Inyalia searched the men surrounding her father. Only one face stood out. Ranger-Lord Traevon Duskwillow of Dragon Sanctum was present. But where were the others? More importantly, why were any of them here? Amidst all the commotion, she hadn’t thought about that. The Ranger-General was expected to visit each and every post from time to time. But most of their business was handled in the sanctums. Dragon Sanctum had been the favorite simply because it was so close to the southern border, as well as home. What had happened that brought so many of them here?
Reaching the top of the mezzanine, Tylor ushered Inyalia passed the last few officers, letting her move ahead of him.
Kalen returned the salute and watched another lieutenant disappear. He was in desperate need of a break. He’d been at it all day, and the list of people needing direction wasn’t getting any smaller. Searching for another face, he froze, lost in the sight of his daughter. Joy overwhelmed him. But he was on duty, he couldn’t let it show. Kalen glanced behind him, making sure the Ranger-Lord was present. “Traevon, take over for me here. I need to retire to my office.”
“Yes, Sir!” Traevon stepped up to the table and began sifting through the reports.
Stepping from the lingering crowd, Kalen gestured for them to follow. Approaching his office, he inserted a key and opened the door. Stepping inside, he waited for them to enter.
Inyalia stepped through, Tylor on her heels.
No sooner than they were clear, Kalen closed the door and wrapped his arms around Inyalia. “My dear girl, I feared you were dead. When word came that Caelum had been destroyed, I—,” Stopping himself, Kalen released his hug, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He smiled wide, inspecting her armor. “And what’s this?” He fingered the insignia upon her collar. “I can’t say I’ve seen that one before.” Swollen with pride, he hugged her again. “You did it. You became a ranger. I can’t tell you how proud I am.”
“Thanks, dad. I missed you too.” Inyalia took a deep breath and pulled away. As much as she wanted to rejoice with seeing her father again, much had happened that required his attention. She finally understood what it meant to put duty over pleasure. “Dad, I don’t know how to tell you this, but something’s happened.”
Kalen’s smile faded. Backing away, he leaned against the
edge of his desk. “I know. That’s part of the chaos out there. In the last month three of my four Ranger-Lords have perished. Two were killed, and the third—well, we haven’t found him yet. I’ve never seen this kind of outbreak before. And none of the books speak of anything even close to this magnitude. I’ve had entire companies vanish into thin air. Captains desert or end up dead. And the steady supply of lieutenants I send to replace them rarely report for duty. Those that do, don’t last long enough to gain the experience needed.” Glancing at the mass confusion outside his window, Kalen continued. “Traevon and I are about all that’s left to dish out orders. And don’t even get me started on the Army. In a single night, a quarter of their strength evaporated. A third of the Navy along with it.”
Tylor listened intently. He had trouble believing what was being said. But Kalen had no reason to lie. “Sir, if I may?”
Kalen nodded. “You should know by now, you’ll always have my ear.”
“These attacks. Are they isolated?”
“Sadly, no. That would give us a direction to start. The animal attacks along the southern border have become more frequent. Somethings got them riled up. I’ve sent three companies to Ryse to deal with it. The first never reported back. The second’s been ineffective. Hopefully the third will make a difference. But those are nothing like the issues we’re facing elsewhere. We’ve had units slain or go missing as far north as Greensborough. The army’s massacre happened in Largar’Thor. Two thousand men were executed while they slept. Not a single alarm was sounded. The same night fifty ships bound for Hailsort were loaded to capacity with soldiers, sailors, and gear. Not one returned.” Kalen exhaled, his shoulders drooping. “Our own numbers haven’t suffered to that extend, but it’s far from an acceptable loss. We’ve lost nearly half a battalion so far. Most of them from Dragon Sanctum. That’s why Traevon is here. The sanctum—It’s been destroyed.” Kalen fell silent, staring at the floor.
“Who would dare?” Tylor asked, fury growing within him. Dragon Sanctum was an important piece of their heritage. “Who could have had the strength to do such a thing, especially without heavy resistance?”
“That’s the thing. We don’t know. It happened in the dead of night. All the torches extinguished in unison. And it was gone before we knew what happened. Traevon narrowly escaped with his life. He crawled from the rubble and reported to me directly. Had I not been home, I could have easily been crushed in the collapse.”
“For all our sake, I’m glad you weren’t, Sir.”
Inyalia stood in shocked disbelief. How could so much have happened in her absence? Was there anything she could have done to change it? How was she expected to combat an enemy that hasn’t shown itself? A million other questions flooded her mind, but they were all silenced by her father’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Inyalia. But Baal was with one of the units that disappeared.” Tears fell from Kalen’s eyes. Speaking about it renewed the pain inside him.
Inyalia froze. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say. There was a pain deep inside her that threatened to never heal. She’d been so focused on her own troubles that she’d completely forgotten that Baal was just as involved. Forcing herself to speak, she stepped closer to her father and stared into his dripping blue eyes. “He’s just missing, right? You haven’t found a body?”
Stealing himself, Kalen wiped his tears and answered. “At this point, yes. He’s still just missing. But the King himself has forbidden me from sending any resources beyond our borders. He’s under the delusion that all of this is simply going to blow over. Like things can ever go back to how they used to be. But it’s not just him. His advisor, Tycondus—,” Kalen wrinkled his nose in disdain. “—he’s got the council and nobles alike convinced that this is all some hoax that has nothing to do with us. They cower behind their walls, expecting the problems to simply go away. Idiots!” Kalen released a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “You have no idea how many times I’ve tried to make them see reason.” Realizing what he was saying, he stopped himself. He wanted to bask in the sight of his daughter, not point out the shortcomings of the ruling casts. “I’m sorry, Inyalia. I shouldn’t be placing my political frustrations on you. You’ve only just returned to find your world flipped upside down.”
Inyalia forced a smile. It was the last thing she wanted to do. But her father needed it. “It’s okay, dad. I understand.” Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for what was to come next. It wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it was probably the hardest thing she was ever going to have to do. But she had to do it. She had to ask. There was no way around it. Swallowing hard, Inyalia opened her mouth. One way or another, her life was about to be changed forever. “Dad—Sir.” Inyalia closed her eyes. She couldn’t look at him right now. It would make it too hard. “Having passed my trials and ascended to the title of Ranger, I request permission to take the status of wild elf.”
Kalen froze. He hadn’t expected her to make such a request. Turning his attention to Tylor, he searched for the words. “How does—Did you know about this?”
Tylor’s stood shocked, his gaze shifting between Kalen and Inyalia. Why did she ask that? She knew his story. She knew what being a wild elf meant. Why would she ever ask for it? “No, Sir. This is the first I’m hearing of it. Inyalia, you are aware of what you’re asking, right?”
Inyalia opened her eyes. Tears fell freely down her cheeks. “I am. And yes. I know what it means. Please understand, I don’t ask because I wish to be released from my family bonds. I ask because that’s the only way I can do what needs to be done. A wild elf is excused from being assigned to a unit. It means I can never marry or hold political power. Being released means I can travel south, beyond our borders, without permission of the nobles or the king. It means I can find my brother and I can bring him home.”
“Inyalia, you don’t have to become a wild elf to go after your brother.” Kalen pleaded.
“Dad, you said it yourself. They won’t let you send anyone. That means if I go, with or without your permission, they’ll punish you. I can’t let that happen. As a wild elf, I can serve our people without playing their game. But we can’t fake it. I have to be released. It’s the only way they’ll believe you didn’t send me.”
Kalen wiped a tear from his cheek. “My child, if you desire to become a wild elf, there’s nothing I can say or do to stop it. I wish you would consider another option. But if this is your desire, you have my full support. Your mother and I will always love you. But I hope you know, she’s going to skin me alive when she finds out.”
Inyalia cracked a smile. Throwing her arms around him, she spoke into his armor. “Thank you, daddy.”
Kalen held her tight. It was likely the last time he’d have the opportunity. Once her status was filed, she would legally no longer be his daughter or heir. “I have one request.”
Expecting something major, Inyalia released him, staring into his tear-soaked face.
“Provided he agree, I would ask that Tylor accompany you. He’s always been loyal, and I trust him completely.”
Inyalia smiled. “I’d planned to ask him anyway. That is, if he doesn’t still think I’m bad for his health.” Inyalia turned her attention to her only friend.
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Good. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I need to find a few others who are willing to break all the rules.”
Tylor and Kalen watched her leave.
Waiting for the door to seal, Tylor spoke. “Don’t worry, Sir. I’ll take care of her.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter XVII
Misfits Company
Putrid odor lingered in the air. It was vaguely reminiscent of rotten apples and feces. Refuse littered the street, scattered where it had been discarded. There were broken supply crates and shattered ceramic jugs lying near the towering walls.
A careless fly landed on Inyalia’s face. She swatted it instinctively, feeling its innards smear. Her nose
wrinkled in disgust as she wiped it away. This was the first time she’d visited the slums. Before now, she’d never had a reason. And even if she had, her father would never have allowed it. Being here, she understood why.
These people were filthy, though not just in the way they lived. It was in the way they looked. The way they talked. Even their movements repulsed her. Everything about them told her to run. But she couldn’t. She was on a mission and she wouldn’t be leaving until it was complete.
Every set of eyes Inyalia met looked upon her with distain. These people had their own system. Not even the city guard held presence here. And in return, they stayed to their own, avoiding the nicer parts of the city. That in itself was cause for concern. The rangers were far from city guard, but they still held authority. That was the true enemy of people like these. It didn’t matter which banner you fought for, if it stood for authority, these people had a problem with it. But if anyone was capable of both entering and leaving the slums unscathed, it was a ranger.
“You’re sure she’s here?” Inyalia looked to Tylor. She was relieved he’d agreed to accompany her. Having backup was a necessity in such a place. Were she alone, there was little doubt the scum that ruled these streets would have brought trouble. But there were two of them. And if there were two rangers in the open, there were usually more in the shadows. That was sure to give them a little protection if someone wanted a fight. Of course, that wasn’t the case. But the thieves and low lives didn’t need to know that.
“That’s what they said.” Tylor marched beside her, scanning the maze of alleys that intersected Bloody Lane. It was an ominous name, but well deserved. Rain didn’t often fall upon Camruun City, but when it did this street ran red. Some said it was the blood of the workers who’d built this section of town. They’d disappeared before completing construction, which had left it unresolved since King Aceldon’s grandfather held the throne some nine-hundred cycles ago. Though Tylor thought differently. The stone beneath his feet was of a different cut than what paved the rest of the city. And being of a different quarry, he believed it more likely to have a higher iron content. But it was a theory. There was no easy way to confirm either possibility.
