A Slow March North

DATE: IMMORTAL REIGN 1023 MONTH 5 DAY 19

It didn’t take long for news of Vera’s arrest, and her father’s following imprisonment, to trickle through the settlements in Green Divide. Dramien went the entire day without uttering a word. When the night came, he turned away food and merely stared into the fire.

“Lord Ruxian,” Dramien spoke at last. “I must break my promise to you and –”

Dramien. Ruxian drew a comic depicting a crowd hurling food at a pilloried king. He had become quite the artist these days. You may call me lord out of duty, but where I’m from, all the remaining monarchs are figureheads. We are equals. Also, given your wife’s reputation, I think it rather selfish of you to keep her from me.

“The Blackmoon Peak can wait,” said Naya. “I don’t want to be a matriarch who can’t defend her friends.”

Dramien produced the old letter from the tulip pouch and offered it to Naya. “Vera was right about you.”

Naya unfolded the sheet. The writing was soft and elegant, bearing more semblance to needlework than ink on paper. Without a doubt, this was the handwriting of a true lady.

“You are full of surprises, Dramien Gilverman,” Naya read aloud. “First you bring me black roses from the far east, and now, you send me a lovely young lady from beyond the southern alps. She gave me quite the fright when she knocked on my window, appearing out of nowhere.

“I understand that you are bound not to loyalties, but principles. You will betray the world before you bend your values. I am afraid, but I shall not ask you to be anything less. I may be a general’s daughter, but I have as much talent for arms as you have for needles. Therefore, I can only provide you some meagre coins.

“Naya is a good girl. I’m sure she will not even think to peek inside. Please reward her honesty in place of the Goddess. Should we ever have a daughter, I’d like to name her after this fiery girl. Don’t worry about me. I know you will return to me once your work is done.”

Naya folded the letter again, carefully slipping it back inside the velvety pouch. She stole a glimpse at Ruxian, who had turned ember grey.

“Now I have to help her.”

DATE: IMMORTAL REIGN 1023 MONTH 5 DAY 21

Waiting at a small village in the Green Divide, Naya received a letter from Mogravale that afternoon. Feeding the spotted pigeon, the Dracon girl sent the bird fluttering away.

“Mother promised enforcements,” said Naya. “They’ll meet us in Sothrend.”

“A good start,” said Dramien. “But Lord Ruxian, why did you ask for Susie?”

All part of the plan. Ruxian emoted a smiling devil. The hypnosis I’ve shown so far is child’s play. Susie will play her part, whether she wants to or not. The silly grin vanished. More importantly, Naya, are you prepared?

Naya nodded, clenching her fists until her knuckles whitened. She couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity. With the various Blackmoon factions racing to nominate their candidates for the campaign, she not only opened a clear path to succession, but a path

“They took the bait,” said Naya. “How did you know, Ruxian?”

Ruxian rendered, to the best of his memory, his graduation photo. History was my best subject. He made the projected figure toss his hat up. Admittedly, I only have a second-hand understanding of war.

“Must be nice,” said Dramien. “Still, Naya, you’re taking quite the risk.”

Naya showed him a toothy grin. “You know how much I like a good fight.”

For all her bravado, Ruxian felt her hesitation, manifesting itself as an inch he had no hands to scratch. Her thorny path to succession would require Naya defeat, if not kill, girls with whom she shared food and living quarters. Should her affection slow, or worse, stay her garash, he may need to intervene.  

“Ruxian,” said Naya, as if reading the ghost. “I’m counting on you.”

DATE: IMMORTAL REIGN 1023 MONTH 5 DAY 24

Ruxian camouflaged himself, taking on a mossy green hue as he crawled out of the Green Divide, waving goodbye to Naya. He flew for Sothrend, his speed turning the scenery into a blur without the wind whistling in his ears. Within the same morning, he found himself overlooking the entire township.

Although not defended like Rokshama, Ruxian narrowed his vision. Last time he snuck through Sothrend, there were no templars with glowing hammers and rods patrolling the borders. With that, he melded a limb, tore it off, and kneaded the pliable fog into multiple wisps. This feat, which hit him like two bottles of vodka a month ago, was now second nature.

Go.

Drifting like a disconnected kite, Ruxian tinkered with his probe network from his relative safety. He moved like a seasoned journeyman crossing a frozen lake, questioning every stride. While he could always produce more spies should they fall to the hammer, he couldn’t say the same for the element of surprise.

His web of eyes and ears now in place, Ruxian went sightseeing. Sharpening his sight into a pinhole, the hypnotist zeroed in on the stone notice board. Though he could not read a single text, he had no trouble recognising the three portraits on the crumbling posters. It was Destora, Palemoor, and an eldritch wraith that rather flattered his ego.

Before long, his eavesdroppers began feeding him morsels of gossip. The farmer to the east prayed for a good harvest. The local militia, when not complaining about the sun, spoke of unrest in the capital and the southern borders. Between guarded whispers, the women expressed their shock at Vera’s arrest.

With the number of shining hammers guarding the church, Ruxian kept clear until night fell. Knowing Lucius was hiding somewhere inside turned his probe a malignant red. This leaking bloodlust turned several heads his way. Ruxian made a muted scowl and circled to a different corner. His patient monitoring finally captured two riders herding a group of shackled Dracon children.

“How did the Green Divide become a demon’s den again?” complained a rider.

“Captain Gilverman was never enthusiastic about riding south.” his partner chimed in.

“Goddess bless His Excellency for setting things right.”

“Damn right. Dramien was a good man. Too good.”

“You think Dramien really...you know?”

“For someone so enamoured with chivalry, he certainly didn’t hesitate to humiliate us.”

“At least Dramien never made us hurt children.”

“If you’re truly bothered by that, then give them the chance to shorten their horn and swear fealty to Targonia.” The rider growled, stealing a glimpse at the captives. “Vera Gilverman is currently under the inquisition. Keep going, and you’ll join her.”

His sighing partner prodded at a dallying child with the wrong end of his spear. “I don’t suppose they’ll put me in her cell.”

The two laughed, though Ruxian didn’t need magic to perceive their hollow musing. Having heard enough, he sped back to the forest and unleashed a psychic wave. Moments after stampeding the avian residents, Naya emerged from the woods, dangling Almerynd’s talisman.

“You need better control,” she chided. “If I didn’t know you, I’d think that was Paerawyn getting ready to burn the forest.”

Ruxian was in no mood for banter. They captured Dracon children. I counted ten.

Naya stopped dead in her tracks. “Then...”

Just more people to save. Ruxian reassured her. Let’s see Dramien. I have news on Vera.

A sizeable hut and a modest campfire awaited their return. The simmering pot over the fire raised Naya’s spirits. She joined Dramien and began dicing carrots, desperately seeking something to take her mind of the abducted children. Ruxian wandered off. His news can wait. For now, his mortal companions need to eat.

“The inquisition,” said Dramien over dinner, his eyes firmly fixed on the Goddess icon on Ruxian’s map. “Probably a specious heresy charge.”

Noisily slurping on her soup like it was an afterthought, Naya prodded the overlay with false joy. Ruxian had made numerous upgrades since Rokshama. The flat square now had landmarks. Moving icons replaced the static squares, constantly tracking human movement.

“Is that a girl?” asked Naya, pointing at a moving ribbon. “That’s adorable.”

“There isn’t a single commander who wouldn’t want this,” commented Dramien. “I wouldn’t have to lose riders on scouting missions.”

That's not all. Ruxian sent a wisp to both Dramien and Naya. Get some distance and start talking. Naya and Dramien traded a curious look before going their separate ways.

“If it’s a trick, Ruxian,” said Naya, “I’ll learn a spell from Mother Blackmoon just to hurt you.”

Dramien chuckled. “That’s a bit harsh – wait.”

Can you both hear me? Ruxian sent a psychic pulse to the two wisps. Think of them as smaller versions of me. Naya and Dramien raced back, their jaws ajar. For an instant, even the usually collected Dramien had trouble forming words.

“When did you figure this out?” asked an excited Naya. “What else are you hiding from us?”

You guys can test the range later. Ruxian packed away his map. We have company. Why don’t you show yourselves, ladies?

Susie, at his urging, came forth and bowed. Following the nun, a dozen Dracons emerged from thin air and snapped into a salute. The young woman in front sized up Naya before approaching, casting her shadow over the shorter girl. For Ruxian, this more resembled a stare-down between two fighters than a meeting of allies.

“I am Lyrica Blackmoon,” the challenger declared. “By command of Almerynd Blackmoon, I have come to your aid, Naya Pigslayer.”