Journey Resumed

The woman introduced herself to Aven’s group as Nowe Rumis, a humble scholar from Tristen. She was part of the congregation of historians, sorcerers, and academics assembled to research the phenomenon that shattered the sky.

It was an organization Kyr wanted to join before he was poached to become a knight and guardian.

“I’m their representative,” Nowe explained. “I know the sacred rites is a highly guarded affair. We can’t have other nations knowing our kingdom’s secrets after all! But! I have with me…” She rummaged through her bag and produced a few documents. “The king’s royal seal! I am to accompany your journey as a researcher!"

And so she did. Until her identity was realized by Morick after the Spire of Strength—the first tower. The princess didn’t lie about her affiliation with the congregation, but the papers she had were of her own royal making, without permission from the actual king.

And as it turned out…

Nowe didn’t change much nearly seven years later.

“Halt!” Nowe yelled as Kyr and his companions reached her the end of the road. When the knights caught up in their pursuit, she repeated herself louder. “I said halt! In the name of your princess, Irenea Vastillia!”

The knights looked more confused than obedient when they stopped. Except for one. A tall woman with a disk head and brown hair.

“Y-Your highness?” the female knight stammered. “Why—what are you doing out here? You can’t be alone in the dead of night!”

“I am not alone,” Nowe—Princess Irenea—said. “The people you are chasing are my guards and companions. Do you not recognize the inquisitor’s uniform on this woman?” She gestured towards Leatrix who was breathing heavily. “I had them… investigate something important! As is what I was doing. Yes.”

How did Kyr ever fall for this woman’s lies seven years ago?

The knights, all six of them, looked at each other with uncertainty. Until three other disk heads appeared, who thankfully recognized the princess as well. She should be a well-known face to the royal guard.

“You shouldn’t be skulking about at night, your highness,” a male knight said. “Let us—”

“There are saboteurs within our midst,” Irenea interrupted. “I’m certain the merchant republics finally played their card. We were investigating them when it happened. You’ve seen the explosions?”

A few of the knights nodded.

Then, as if on cue, another explosion roared west towards artisan’s alley. It was weaker than the first two, but its black alchemical hue was definitive.

“Your highness, we can’t leave you out here,” the female knight pleaded. “It isn’t safe. Let us escort your group back to the palace.”

Irenea thought about it… then nodded once. “I understand,” she said. “But two of you will escort my companions to the eastern gate instead. They have other business I ordered them to do.”

Kyr shared a look with the princess and her eyes widened in recognition. He adjusted his mage hat to make sure it blended with his horn.

“Let us be off, then,” Irenea commanded. “Anyone else who isn’t an escort, go see to the explosion.”

“Yes, your highness!”

Kyr stared at the princess as she was led away, then continued east with his group as originally intended. All the while, he worried the scarred knight would regain his consciousness back at Baron Narden's manor. He would be telling a very different story.

Cinza handled the two knights escorting them with charm and ease. Before Kyr knew it, they were put in an inn outside the city wall and given a bit of money for their trouble. “We apologize for the misunderstanding,” one the knights said. “We promise to get those Kelasian spies for you. You can leave everything to us.”

“That, we shall,” Cinza said as he waved them off. When the knights were out of earshot, he turned back to Kyr and the others. “In fifteen minutes, we’re leaving the inn and heading straight to a different house that I know. The princess could explain our situation, but the knights won't be happy when they learn who our horned companion really is."

And so they did as the butler suggested.

The town outside the wall had modest houses and architectures designed for the people who worked in the fields to the east. The area Cinza took them, however, was decidedly poorer by comparison. Broken buildings, abandoned houses, the smell of piss and dead beasts.

They settled inside a small house with rickety walls and a broken roof. “Thieves use this place to exchange goods,” Cinza explained, “but I doubt any of them are breaking the curfew tonight. No one's done that since saboteurs and rioters started causing trouble.”

How the hell did this man ever become a butler of the Ryhart household? Unfortunately for Kyr, he had more pressing questions.

“Did the southern republic really send saboteurs to Esmerand?” he asked.

“I bet they did,” Roy said. “There are even rumors they’re behind the king’s murder!”

“I’ve had that initial theory as well,” Leatrix said. “But I'm not fully convinced yet. Whoever killed the king did it with magic."

“Same as Aven, right?” Kyr asked.

Leatrix nodded grimly. “A shot of concentrated mana straight to the chest. By the look of it, there was a struggle and the killer did it savagely.”

“Kelasians could learn magic too,” Cinza said.

“I am keeping an open mind,” Leatrix conceded. “But according to the investigation, the spell was highly advanced based on mana precision. The chances of the culprit being Vastillian is much higher.”

Kyr snorted. That was one of the reasons Aven’s death could only be done by ‘someone like him’.

“I suppose if there was a difference with Aven’s death,” Leatrix continued, “they found traces of poison in his majesty’s system. He was drugged before he was killed.”

Huh.

Interesting…

“So, they didn’t find poison with Aven?” Roy asked.

“Not in the classified reports,” Leatrix said.

“Well, since we’re all speculating,” Cinza said, “these explosions could also be done by locals in protest. Our neighbors are on the verge of invasion, and the king is already dead. I doubt these petty tactics matter.”

“True…” the others reacted in unison.

They spent the rest of the night trading theories and getting very little sleep. By sunrise, they warily switched from location to location until they found themselves back at the markets. They bought the supplies they needed for their next journey and Cinza finally found the information he wanted.

Karlan and the rest of their allies were caught by the royal guard and labeled as ‘foreign insurgents.’ It wasn’t true, of course, but Kyr knew how the system worked.

Leatrix was suspended from the inquisitor’s office, and the houses of both Rhyman and Ryhart were desperately looking for her. News that she freed Kyr Solian spread, but so far only to the knights and other inquisitors.

As for the princess…

The scholar from the congregation of historians, sorcerers, and academics reappeared near the southern gate of Esmerand with a large caravan pulled by two majestic horses.

She introduced herself yet again as Nowe, the scholar.

Together they embarked towards the Spire of Knowledge, much like Aven’s group did more than six years ago.

Except this time, they didn’t leave the princess behind.

*

The high inquisitor’s office echoed with the sound of papers shuffling.

Jacent Talos busied himself going over reports of last night’s attacks. Several of his inquisitors already confirmed the people involved were foreign of origin. ‘Outside ones’ as the spirit liked to put it. The problem was which nation to blame.

Kelasia was the obvious choice, but that was simply due to the current tension at their southern border. Three years ago, Luminas to the southwest was the common target for suspicion. And of course, the usual skirmish at the northern sea will have some nobles point their fingers at the Renati.

It was as if the rest of the world was conspiring against Vastille.

Jacent stopped at one of the reports, then held the paper close to his face.

“Thirty-eight… and Sixty,” he read out loud. Yet another report on the saboteurs calling each other by numbers. Whoever they were, they were undoubtedly an organized group.

“Specter…” Jacent whispered. He hated that word, but in this case it was more than suitable.

As if on cue, a hazy form started to materialize in the middle of his office, almost unrecognizable against the stream of sunlight through his window.

“Already?” he asked.

“The Vastillian heiress has left the city…” the spirit said, cackling its cold breath.

“Direction?”

“South.”

Interesting. Jacent was right to have this thing follow the princess after all. But where was she going?

“There’s more… a sorcerer is with her…”

“What sorcerer?”

“Someone blessed by the sun… I can feel them watching… through his eye…”

Jacent stood up on shock.

“What? It finally showed up after all this time… and it’s been activated!?”

No… no, that would ruin everything. The apocalypse was one thing… this was much worse!