individuals who had surrounded them as they slept. They were Twocasts, she had heard of them, but they were rarely seen. A while ago she heard a rumour that a plague had wiped them all out.
Twocasts were the offspring and descendants of generations of illegal pairings between native casts. The natives referred to them as ‘immundus’, the unclean. Shunned, they were forced to live in exile, lest they bring shame upon their families.
She guessed that there were around thirty of them here; men, women and children. They exhibited few distinct characteristics of Blood, Mud, or Gold, belonging to no cast and accepted by none of them. However, it struck Ro-eh-na as she watched them now, how many of them carried traits of the lost, Whyte bloodline; fair skin, silver-white hair and violet eyes.
The tall woman walked towards them, and as she approached, the smile vanished from her face. Her voice turned ice cold.
“Who are you and what kind of madness brings you here to disturb our exile?” She said.
Lord Alder rose slowly to his feet. The Twocasts regarded him warily. A young male placed an enormous blowpipe to his lips and took aim. The silver-haired woman lifted her hand.
“Have patience Tarik,” she said to him, with a laconic smile, “ at least allow our guest the opportunity to answer my question before you despatch him.” She turned back to Lord Alder “ Well?”
Alder stepped over Ro-eh-na’s outstretched legs and, remaining conscious of the weapon that young male had aimed at him; he walked slowly and steadily towards the woman. When he reached her Lord Alder smiled uneasily and, suddenly realising the identity of the woman that he was about to address, he gave her a short respectful bow.
“I am Ascendant Lord Alder, High Councillor of Ferrum.” He said, hesitantly.
He searched his mind for the right words, the words that would enable him to persuade this very powerful woman, not to slaughter them all where they stood. He realised that there was none, he took a long breath.
“I know that we have no right to ask you this, Elder,” he said, “but we are in need of your help.”
ASYLUM SEEKERS
Almost a week after the incidents at Ferndell and the Ferrum border, Arjan and the Rose’s Whyte cell were invited to take afternoon tea with Lord Dux. Accompanied, now routinely, by two centurion guards, they entered Lord Dux’s chambers to find him seated at his desk with a magnificent hawk’s feather quill in his hand.
“Ah, good,” he said, taking the wooden rocking blotter and rolling it over the parchment on which he had been writing. “I appreciate your punctuality. Please take a seat.”
Dux indicated the large comfortable sofa next to the leaping, sparking fire, which was filling the room with the warm aroma’s of seasoned cherry wood and charred pine cones. As he joined them he paused and turned to the guards in the doorway.
“Thank you, officers. You may leave us now. Please, wait outside… and close the door.”
After a moment’s hesitation, they left, closing the door behind them.
Dux eased himself into his well-worn, leather armchair, his eyes as always, creased at the corners as he smiled.
“I wanted to tell you all how very impressed I have been with all of you and the way you have all coped, these past few days,” he said. “You have put in a lot of work, and I know that it has not been easy, coping with this level of security, on top of all your extra tuition.”
He sighed, sitting back in his chair, shaking his head and rubbing his chin as he mused. His face clouded.
“You deserve to be rewarded with some better news. Regrettably, however, we have received reliable reports that Ferrum’s capital, Glynisfarne, has fallen to the Djinn, along with most of Ferrum’s border region.”
He watched sadly as their smiles waned. Arjan reached for Rose’s hand. Clasping it between his fingers, he gave it a reassuring squeeze.
Lee appeared puzzled.
“Isn’t the First Battalion Lignum Vitae barracks at Glynisfarne?” He said his brows drawn together in a confused frown. “Are they not supposed to be the fiercest and most skilled soldiers in all of the Afterlands? I am sure I read that in Cognito. If that is true and yet they are to be so easily defeated, then what hope have we?”
The novices exchanged anxious looks, though Rose seemed merely distracted. Dux took a breath to answer but before he could, Rose had intervened.
“However good the army,” she said. “They’d still find it difficult to fight the fyre of the Djinn. That type of power can only be stifled with magic. Lord Eldwyn knew that, which is why he did not predict that an army would defeat the Djinn, he predicted that we would.”
“No, that is not exactly correct,” said Lee pedantically, “more specifically he prophesied that you would.”
“Actually, according to most scholars,” said Dux with a wry smile. “The general interpretation of the prophecy, is that ‘she’, who most of us now accept to be Rose, would have the power to unite all of the casts of the Afterlands in victory over our enemies.”
“Do you know what’s happened to them?” Said Auriel suddenly, her face troubled, “the people of Glynisfarne and the refugee Bloods, did any of them manage to escape?”
“Ahh yes,” said Dux “We do have some news. Not a great deal and most of it not good, but it appears that some members of the Ferrum high council and Lignum Vitae did manage to escape. They are now in the process of forming a small resistance army. Apparently, and somewhat surprisingly, they are sequestered within the Ebony Forest. We are arranging to have some supplies sent to them presently. There are some Twocast peddlers in the city, they are known in the forest and can move freely within it.”
“Twocast?” asked Rose with a blank look.
Auriel’s jaw tightened as her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazed furiously.
“The natives call them Immundus, the unclean,” she said, her voice terse. “They are outcasts Rose, the prodigy of mixed marriages between native casts. It is illegal for casts to intermarry. When they do, they are ostracised. They are not permitted to live in the cities or communicate with their families, so they exile themselves in the Ebony Forest.”
Angrily she spat out each word as she went on.
“They are treated worse than animals. Of all my readings, this has been only thing that has made me feel ashamed. I’m ashamed of the natives for imposing these values and I’m ashamed of the ascendants, for allowing it to continue for so long.”
Their eyes fell uncomfortably on Dux, who was shaking his head in regret. His melancholic eyes looked up towards the richly adorned ceiling. Letting out a deep sigh, his voice became wistful.
“It is a matter of deep regret to me also, Lady Auriel. The Aurum high council has been attempting to address this cruel injustice, for as long as I can remember. We have made some headway in Aurum. Twocasts have been free to barter and trade within Aureus, and other Aurum cities for many years now, but I am afraid these bigoted attitudes are deeply ingrained within the native culture. None of the native casts will move on the issue of equality legislation for the Twocasts and most of them continue to follow the old ways. In their minds, they wish the Twocasts did not exist and so they treat them accordingly, to them they do not exist.”
“So are the Twocasts of the Ebony Forest working with the Ferrish resistance?” asked Rose.
“That, I am afraid, was not made clear from the apis. Though I doubt any organisation could flourish within the Ebony forest, without the cooperation of the Elder Witch.”
Responding to their vacant expressions he elaborated.
“She is their Sharman, their mystical leader, and has been for hundreds, possibly even thousands of years. Legend tells that she is the result of an ancient and unique pairing, between a Ferrish native and an ascendant, but no one knows for sure. What is known is that she is most certainly not mortal. There are also many reports of her having some potens, although, with no ring it is
unlikely to be strong. However, it does appear to be strong enough to frighten and subdue the natives.”
They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. One of the guards entered tentatively.
“Excuse me Lord Dux,” he said cautiously, “ but there is someone….”
Three black hooded figures pushed passed him into the room.
“Halt! Halt!” Centurion guards shouted as they rushed in after them, their weapons drawn.
Dux and the novices sprang to their feet.
The tallest of the three figures, a woman, held up her hands as she spoke.
“I am sorry Lord Dux,” she said hurriedly, “we mean you no harm, but it is imperative that I talk to you urgently. I have news from Cynnabar, news of Lord Ka.”
Dux unobtrusively signalled for the guards to stand down as he stepped squarely between Rose and the strangers, hiding her from their view. The others took his lead, protectively surrounding Rose and pushing her behind them.
“Who are you,” said Dux, “ who mistakenly, thinks it prudent to force your way into the High Councillors quarters when we are in a state of war?”
The woman pulled back her hood, revealing a shock of scarlet hair, slanted black eyes and the beautifully sculptured, pale features of a Blood.
“I am El-on-ah, Blood ascendant and Chief Alchemist of the Hydrargyrum House of Leadentar.”
El-on-ah, noticing Dux’s clumsy attempt to hide the young Whyte ascendant, barely managed to keep the shock from her voice. Now she
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