1 - The City in the Mountain

On the other side of Axis…

     The ruins that came to be referred to as The Lost City held a special allure to Cinder. Had she remained a soldier, they would have appealed to her in the same way a general takes advantage of a weakness in the enemy’s fortification or battalions. As a budding scholar however, the city carved into the mountainside reminded her of happier days playing pretend with her younger brother Ash. They would let their imaginations run wild, bringing to life grand palaces and incomprehensible scenarios for hours on end. To be able to investigate one now felt like a highlight of her career.

     If Ash could see her now, he’d be jealous to no end.

     Cavernous halls taller than she could fathom arced above her, so tall, she couldn’t see the ceiling. Her colleague Ryzen had been so surprised by the size he had fallen backwards looking up. Similarly, the depths extended far deeper than they had anticipated. Within the center of the Lost City, a spiral staircase roughly a kilometer in diameter descended towards the base of the mountain with floors extending in every direction in fifty meter intervals to create a veritable maze within.

     Within this mountain city hid a veritable treasure trove of the past. Questions from the past that begged to be answered.

     And the most enlightening and damning discovery that they quickly discovered was that the Silvan and Dokkan Elves once shared a common ancestor.

     She could spend a lifetime here and probably still not discover all of its secrets. But she owed it to her team and to Ash to do just that.

     What secrets do you hold? Cinder wondered, stroking the cold smooth walls. What are you hiding?

     Her musings were interrupted by Rolla, a small tawny elf of Dokkan descent with messy hair. “Parties of Elves have been spotted near the mountain path. Looks like it might be over a hundred, ma’am.” he was saying. The rat nest on his head looked like it was threatening to fall off with how spooked Rolla looked.

     Great.

     That wasn’t good at all. Her team was made up entirely of independents, elves from both Silvan and Dokkan walks of life who abhorred the war just as she did. Neither side would react well to seeing her archeological team working together instead of fighting for supremacy. Just another one of the tenets she had forsaken.

     “Any indicators to which party the group belongs to?” She asked, daring to hope. If it were Dokkan, they might have a chance. Sending Rolla, or any of the other Dokkan Elves to advocate for the archeological team would be dicey, but easier than with any Silvan scouts.

     “Looks like Silvan, ma’am.”

     A slew of profanities escaped from her mouth, startling Rolla. She felt bad for the kid. Rolla was barely old enough to join, and had been allowed to on the condition he kept lookout. He was only doing his duty.

     She had been hoping that it was the old man again. Early into their investigation of the Lost City, a round eared stranger had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, startling Rolla and throwing the encampment into chaos.

     “Moving in, are we?” He asked, a faint twinkle in his eye and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I should apologize for the mess. I was preoccupied and wasn’t anticipating guests.” The man examined the team, seemingly amused by the six elves scrambling behind anything that could be used as cover.

     “Or maybe you’re trying to learn from the past, as I am?” The question was directed towards Cinder, as if he already knew she was the expedition’s leader. She didn’t like how he looked at her, speaking with a level of familiarity bordering on familial. “To what do I owe this unexpected socialization?”

     What kind of elf is he? Cinder had thought. And why did she feel like he already knew their purpose here? “We’re taking advantage of the war to advance the future of our people by studying the past.”

     The man’s eyes sparkled brighter. “Oh, then you’ll find that and more in these arches and caverns. The ancient axians, oh you should have seen them. Industrious. Humble. Charitable. Reminds me of my children, I tell you. Those were the days.”

     Wake, their security expert, had gathered his courage first. “Just who in the Houses are you?” he demanded, trying to use his Divinely given wrestler’s build to intimidate the old man.

     “Oh me? I’m no one special. Just a father. And a gardener.” came the answer. “The ruins are far more interesting than I’d ever be to someone like you.”

     “Who are you? How long have you been here?” Wake continued his intimidation bit. The man was less than affected, treating it more like casual conversation. “We were under the impression the Lost City was uninhabited.”

     “Oh they are. Most of the time I’m elsewhere.” he rambled on, oblivious to the daggers Wake eyed him with. “But I had to make an exception when I heard there was company coming. You won’t mind if I stick around do you? Mayhaps we both might learn something. You won’t even notice me, just pretend I’m not even here.”

     And like that, the old man vanished, only to reappear moments later at Cinder’s side. He eyed her thoughtfully.

     “Call me Father,” he replied suddenly. “I think I’ve forgotten any other cognomen I might have gone by. Until next time!”

     Then he was gone. Vanished into thin air.

     Over the course of the following weeks, Father had periodically shown up to check up on their investigation. Every now and again, he’d offer cryptic hints that would make no sense in the moment but lead to fascinating results hours or even days later. It was on Father’s suggestion that they focus on the ruined doorway at the bottom of the spiral staircase. What they had found astonished them: relics and refuse made from material completely foreign to the continent of Kos. Some of it was similar in design to early Cait Sith, but more were completely alien.

     “Ah yes, there were other civilizations besides yours, and the Sith,” he mused thoughtfully when they had approached him about this discovery. “But where did they go?”

     “You know, don’t you?” Cinder accused him. She was sick and tired of his vague rambling. If he knew everything about these places and people, why was he being so difficult sharing that information with them?

     “Do I?” Father asked playfully. His innocent smile hid knowledge she was convinced confirmed that he did in fact know. “Oh I suppose I do.”

     “Then tell us the answer.” She demanded.

     Father chuckled. “Now why would I do that?” He asked. “If I just gave you the answers, you wouldn’t learn anything.”

     “Wha–”

     “In fact, this entire expedition would all be for nothing if I just told you the truth. The six of you would just pack up and leave without really learning anything. The dead guard their secrets for a reason. It isn’t up to me to share them without permission, Cinder.”

     “I didn’t tell you my name!”

     “You’re right, you didn’t,” Father agreed. “But I know you, and I know the reason why you do the things you do. You have my condolences for that, by the way.”

     His unexpected comment, as sincere as it was, left her sputtering and reeling backwards. Before she could interrogate him though, he vanished again.

     And every time he showed up, he’d try to speak with Cinder privately.

     And right now she wished he was here instead of the Silvan party that was currently scaling the Lost City.

     “What do we do?” Rolla asked apprehensively.

     If she had still been a soldier, Cinder would have answered that they’d just set traps along the trails to deter further investigation. Could it have been enough to push back an entire company? Probably not, but they might be able to convince them it would be too costly to advance further.

     But she wasn’t a soldier anymore. Cinder had left that life behind the day her world ended.

     “What can we do?” She murmured.

     Rolla, to her surprise, had a suggestion. “Surely they’ve heard of you, your reputation.” He said innocently. “Maybe you can intimidate them into leaving us alone?”

     “Where did you hear about that?” She asked inquisitively.

     Blood rushed to his ears in embarrassment. “Oh, uh, Breiran and the others talk.” Rolla answered sheepishly. “How amazing you used to be on the battlefield and stuff.”

     Now it was Cinder’s turn to feel self conscious. “Exaggerations, I’m sure.” She dissembled. “But, maybe we can use that.”

     Calling together the rest of the team, Cinder shared an outline of Rolla’s plan with them. She hoped they wouldn’t be too hard on her or the kid for it.

     “That’s probably the best choice we have at this point.” Wake confessed after she finished. The others nodded in agreement.

     “You really think so?” Cinder asked.

     “It’s not like we’re equipped to legitimately fight them.” Breiran pointed out. “We’re scholars. Academics. Wake is the closest we have to muscle and he just looks the part, mostly.”

     “Hey!”

     “If your reputation does precede you, this expedition can be salvaged.” Ryzan added. “Do you think it’ll get bloody?”

     Cinder grimaced. “I don’t know. It’s been half a decade since I was a soldier. Haven’t really kept up on my training.”

     None of them looked surprised at her admission except for Rolla. Which made sense, as he didn’t know her full story like they did.

     “I’m sure they’ll remember you,” Marlo assured her. “You fought for nearly a decade right? That’s not something every soldier can boast about. Be wary of the experienced in a profession where the inexperienced die quickly, and all that.”

     For the briefest of moments, Cinder allowed herself to remember. Ten years of battle. Of killing in the War of the Roses. Enemy elves burnt at her fingertips. She had been good at it. She enjoyed it. It made her alive.

     Could she be that elf again?

     Guess it was a good time to find out.

     The walk down towards the Silvan encampment was a long one. Not from hostile terrain, but from the weight of Cinder’s past threatening to return to the forefront of her mind. Rolla had volunteered to accompany her, but she had declined. The kid didn’t know what she’s done, and a part of her was afraid he wouldn’t like what he learned if the company’s leader knew or heard of her exploits.

     Why did she care about his opinion? She was twenty years his senior at the very least, and the oldest out of all the elves in the expedition. Everyone looked towards her, even though she wasn’t the most experienced. That honor went to Breiran, who had lived all his seventy years in ruins and reliquaries.

     She didn’t like the attention. It wasn’t why she became an archeologist. The spotlight had already been on her long enough as a soldier, Cinder didn’t need it anymore. Or at least, that’s what she was trying to convince herself.

     I’ve moved on, haven’t I? So why does this feel so hard? She thought as her feet carried her ever onward and downward. I guess I haven’t. Great.

     After what felt like an hour of descent, Cinder was surprised to come across a collection of tents at the base of the mountain. Torches had already been erected around the perimeter, filling the encampment with the smell of ash. With a start, she realized there wasn’t the usual cacophony of animals nearby. The crackle and sparks the torches emitted felt louder than usual in their absence.

     Peculiar still, there were no soldiers.

     Old instincts flared up, telling her something was off. Where was everyone?

     “Who goes there?” A voice barked out from within one of the tents. A sinking feeling struck Cinder. If her memory was correct, the expedition was doomed. But then again, what was he doing here, and not on the front lines? A glimmer of something enkindled within her, though whether it was hope or dread, she wasn’t sure.

     “Atlas, is that you?” she answered back. “For what reason have you graced the lands below from your seat on high?”

     There was a pause, then the voice replied “To look upon my kingdom, and marvel at its beauty, though now there is nothing that compares to mine eyes when I look upon you.” Moments later, Atlas Silva emerged from the encampment. A laugh escaped his lips as he saw Cinder. Likewise, a warm feeling rose up in her breast at the sight of her past standing before her.

     “Is it really you?” Atlas asked with wonder in his eyes. He inspected her as if he was seeing a mirage, marveling at the burns on her body, some new, some familiar to her skin since when he last saw them. “I… I thought I’d never see you again.”

     “Nor I you,” Cinder replied honestly. Memories of before began to flitter about in the periphery of her mind.

     “What are you doing here?” They both asked at the same time. Atlas laughed as Cinder covered her face with her hand, restraining a laugh alongside him.

     “I’m here on an expedition, trying to learn more about our past.” Cinder replied before Atlas could answer.

     “Why would you need to do that Blaze, we already have the Memory Root,” Atlas inquired. It was only then that she noticed the vine draped around his left shoulder. His glowing smile faded somewhat, and alarm entered his gaze. “You need to get out of here.”

     “What, why?”

     “You’re not supposed to be here!” He exclaimed. “Someone tipped off the leading Houses that Dokkan sympathizers were sequestered in the mountain.”

     “They’re not sympathizers,” Cinder protested. “We’re just elves who want the war to stop.”

     “That makes them sympathizers,” Atlas countered. His eyes flashed in anger as he raised his arms towards her, only to stop himself. “Blaze—”

     “Don’t call me that!” Cinder cut him off. “I’m Cinder. Cinder Eos.”

     Atlas regarded her with sympathy. “I guess a lot has changed, then,” he said somberly. “Then let me grant you this boon, as a token of our history.” A hopeful look came into his eyes. “Will everything be left to the past?”

     “I think that entirely depends on what happens next,” She answered. “Where is everyone?”

     After a moment’s hesitation, Atlas let out a breath in resignation. “We discovered a set of tunnels leading into the ruins. My soldiers are already on their way to capture the dissidents. And eliminate them if necessary.”

     An icy dagger plunged itself into the core of Cinder’s soul. She stared at Atlas, abject horror on her face. And in that moment she saw Ash all over again.

     She fled the camp, hoping against hope she could avert a disaster the past had brought back to the fore of her mind. Atlas called after her, begging her to wait, to listen. But Cinder paid him no mind. All that mattered was at the top of the mountain.