Chapter 13- Dinner at Rosin Hall

To say that the situation in the Southeast was shaky would be an understatement. The Affairs had brought down the Cavaulian Empire from its greatest and left scars across every neighboring land. Kellylin was one of the least affected parts of the Southeast, if for no other reason than its relative isolation. That isolation continued when Cavaulia again dominated the business of all the neighboring Realms, they were at war with the only Empire to ever be their equal, Praedium, and they wanted the help of all the realms who they had just spent the last fifty years invading. Despite what those uninitiated might have thought, Cavaulia found support from almost all of said realms, with Kellylin being the most hesitant. The Clans of Kellylin had agreed to offer willing warriors, and cut what little communications with Praedium that they had, but didn’t officially join the Righteous Coalition. This unwillingness to dedicate has been the chief obstacle in Kellylin’s diplomacy in the following years.

Gane and company had spent the last few days going over what they had learned. Gane and Yhora looked over the scroll that Gaardir had given them, cross referencing it with more recent maps, and finding that their next stop would be somewhere in the remains of Inmoridia, Itrar had told them a bit more about the place from his memory, the cite of the old Moridian Capital City. They were now caught in a sort of limbo, wanting to leave to the next step of the journey but feeling caught in Sohouta. Gane had agreed to wait in the city until Mandrigon got his promotion; he had implied that his new promotion would allow him to offer support on their quest. Gane had gone back and forth on this in his head, he considered what Rojon had told him about keeping the quest secret, but Mandrigon already knew, he might as well help with funding or what-have-you. Yhora knew in her mind that moving on was the best option, she certainly didn’t care about waiting for whatever Mandrigon had planned for them, but her heart had not allowed her to move on. Her Clan was here, and if she was going to make peace with them, she would have to do it here.

Zoll and Kayseri were not terribly burdened by the choice. Zoll was content to remain here as long as they were going to be paid, it was a nice town to slip into the cracks of. And he had received news that the Moridian family was on their feet, it made him happy to see them begin to put down roots here. For Kayseri it was an odd paradox of perspective, he always felt the call to move on and seek out good that needed doing in every part of the world, but if he looked hard enough he could occupy the rest of his days doing good for the people of Sohouta. 

As anxious as it could be to sit around and ignore the big decision that they were going to have to make, there was a strange relaxation that they took in. They enjoyed Their days together, and opted to refuse the offer to live in the upper part of the city near Mandrigon. That decision had been liberating, Gane only regretted not being able to free Allene from the prison of aristocrats and courtiers. When Mandrigon had given them the tour, Gane found himself feeling bad for Allene’s situation at all turns, she seemed like the one warm spirit in a building full of cold and awkward Tiralgo types. The raggedy old inn that they spent their time in had begun to grow on all of them. They were friendly acquaintances with the innkeeper, her name was Eigen and she was just the sweetest old lady. Kayseri had shown them a nice secluded spot behind the inn to train, it was walled off on all sides but with no roof above their heads. Kayseri took some time to introduce Gane to his Code, and train him in the martial ways of his Order. Zoll and Yhora sat on a small bench and watched them drill. Gane had felt embarrassed at first, but came to the reassuring conclusion that nobody in this group was judging him for his status as a combat greenhorn. 

They sat and read while Kayseri gave lessons straight from his Code Book.

“I’m here to give you the most fundamental lesson that you’ll need as a warrior. Tell me Gane, what is the most important thing that a warrior can have?”

Gane racked his brain hard, it wouldn’t be a weapon or piece of equipment, Kayseri had been quite clear about his feelings towards them. It wasn’t power was it? No, that’s far too obvious for a trip-me-up question like this….

“Some may tell you it is strength,” Kayseri said, seemingly reading his mind. “But they are wrong, strength can only get you so far. Others, of the more clever variety will tell you that it is strategy. But they too are wrong. So long as a warrior has more of this, they will triumph over the strongest and smartest opponents in the world.”

Gane shrugged, “Friendship?”

“Wrong, though that can never hurt. It is Willpower, everything else is merely there to assist the force of will that you have to accomplish your goal. Under any circumstance, throughout all aspects, during any point in time, willpower is the ultimate deciding factor in who claims victory and who claims defeat.

Yhora watched from the sidelines, she scoffed a slight bit at Kayseri’s obvious idealism.

“Bah! That’s ridiculous, plenty of people with superior wills have failed in history. Think of the Great Slave Revolt of Cavaul, they rose out of chains with the highest morals and will in the world, and look where it got them. Their leaders were executed and they were sentenced to two hundred more years in servitude.”

“But their will continued on after their deaths.” Kayseri retorted. “If it weren't for the heroes who made martyrs of themselves in the Great Revolt, what tales would have inspired the rebels who waged the Muzzle Wars to free themselves not more than thirty years ago, who went every night wondering if it would be their last. That is why willpower is such a magnificent force, even if it takes one thousand years for your cause to be vindicated, it will not be in vain.”

Yhora was finished debating this with him, they clearly weren’t going to convince each other. Dying one thousand years before you could ever see the fruits of your efforts didn’t sound so great to her, and besides, it was impossible to argue with Kayseri on these matters, she returned to her book.

So things continued for the next few weeks in Sohouta, Rising season began to wane into summer, the heat came harder every day. Whispers loudened in the streets about back alley deals, pubs were cleared out but Clan guards for conspiracy, and families stuck closer together. Gane and company stuck closer together, going to shop for food as a group. An odd mixture of eager anticipation at the base of the city’s psyche, mixed with a drizzle of dour tidings leaking down from the elites. The streets became alight with the cheer of the approaching festival of Rising’s End, and the estates were caught in conversation about the fate of the city following the power shift. Gane had been enthusiastic about it as well, eager to see the sights. He had even bought a new notebook to write down his experiences and draw the revelry. While Yhora had been somber, hoping to get a chance to right things with her clan before they left the city to continue the Restoration.

Complications sadly arose. Mandrigon’s dinner was set to take place on the exact date of Rising’s End. So while the rest of Sohouta would be enjoying themselves in the streets, Gane would be in a fancy building with the Clan elites. It cast a cloud of disappointment over his last few days in Sohouta, set against the growing excitement of the city itself.

The Date did come however, Itsusu rangers came to escort them to the estate on behalf of Mandrigon. Covered in their violet and green scarves with chainmail and decorated tsuks. They led the group through the streets, chock full of dancers and games and freshly served food. There was nothing gourmet or shockingly fantastic, but it was a reflection of Sohoutan people nonetheless. Gane watched longingly as he was directed past all the actual fun of the night. He only thanked that he had his companions with him, there wouldn’t be much else to enjoy at Rosin hall.

He was ushered into a vast and decadent dining hall, silk lacing hanging from every piece of furniture, the scent of fine wines, and the sounds of deep conversation coming from all corners. There was one large table that split the room three ways, it split down the middle like a Y and curved off to both sides. It was a traditional piece of high class Niern furniture. Mandrigon stood entertaining some guests, he spotted Gane and excused himself. He strutted over to them, dressed in the dark blues and golden cuffs of  a Niern Officer. He had patches sewn in over his breast, indicating his noble background, a gold felt rectangle to indicate a Count, he carried a thin black cane, and a fashionable blindfold over his eyes. 

“I’m so glad you could make it. And you brought company...wonderful. Feel free to go out and mingle, there are no unhelpful connections to be made in this crowd, at least for any of you. We have also been graced with the great Admiral Moonfox Aldanion of Cavaul, visiting before the truce ends this summer.”

“Uh...yes, I’ll be sure to.” Gane awkwardly nodded.

“And Gane. I have something that I’d like to show you after dinner.” He leaned in closer to whisper. “It pertains to your quest, I figure you’d like me to be discrete about it.” The whole room closed in around them as he talked, he had this way about forcing an answer out, Gane meekly half nodded and Mandrigon returned to his other guests. 

The whole group was left standing in the middle of the hall, just out of the way of the main lane through which guests were entering. 

“What do we do at a party like this before dinner starts?” Gane asked.

“You just walk around and talk to people. Most guys go and find pretty ladies to chat up.” Yhora replied. 

“I don’t know about any of you, but I’ll be off to meet this General Moonfox fellow, he seems like quite the warhorse. I might have even met him before in my Vilerender days.” Kayseri gave a hard pat on Gane and Yhora’s shoulders, “Call for me if you need me. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” and walked off. Zoll followed closely behind him.

“I believe Moonfox is an admiral, actually.”

“I’ll be around too, let me know if you need anything.” Yhora took one more glance at him and then headed off for the balcony doors.

Gane wandered about uncomfortably for a while, he carried a glass of violet wine and barely sipped at it, retracing his steps around the room as he paced back and forth, occasionally glancing at the table to see if someone could force this party along. He occasionally stood adjacent to conversations, hearing in on talk of manners and codes in thick upper Niern accents, how impressive this party was to have come out of Kellylin. People spoke of generals that he had never heard of and great operas were taken for granted as background knowledge. Gane turned away from every conversation he stumbled into and was “politely” shunned from all the others. He found himself sitting alone in a cluster of spare chairs in the back corner of the hall. He took another sip of the violet wine, too tart, he placed it on the floor next to him. 

As his thoughts began to wander, they were suddenly brought back to the scene by Allene, who sat down next to him. She was again dressed in a giant winter coat, but a different one, this one seemed to at least curtsy to the fashion choices of the others in the room. He didn’t know how she could stand it, it was hot enough in here already.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Aren’t you a little warm in that?”

“Nope.”

….

“Aren’t you a little underdressed in that?” She asked.

“Not as much as I’d like to be.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t like formal wear, where I come from parties are meant to make things less stressful.”

“I get it, but it’s a good chance to make connections, could be helpful for your whole Restoration.”

“Did Mandrigon tell you about that?”

“Well yeah, but I also helped you dig up every piece of information on it in this city the other day.”

“That’s true. But I don’t know how many people I want hearing about the Restoration. My Grandfather told me to keep it under wraps, he said that inviting more and more people into the ritual would only taint the outcome.”

“Well the ritual is a big deal, lots of people have reason to want magic to stay in the word. Hell, I’m a Magician, if you fail I’m not just out of a job, I’ll have wasted my life.”

That was exactly what Gane needed right now, more pressure, but she was right, and she certainly wasn't the only one. Gane pushed past his rustic tongue’s rejection of the flavor and had a few more sips of wine. Allene was quiet, she seemed to feel a little guilty for what she had said, Gane didn’t get why.

Across the hall, around a small fireplace, Kayseri strode confidently up to the Admiral Moonfox. The admiral was surrounded by other guests, whom he was entertaining with some story. The admiral was tanned by the coast’s sun, he had long hair pulled back into a neat knot, not unlike Kayseri. The admiral wore the deep blue formal coat of a cavaul officer, that extended down to his ankles, and angular gold shoulder cuffs. He had a golden tattoo in a straight line down his face, going over his eye and down his neck; it was a symbol of commanding rank in Cavaul, though not visible, it extended down to his feet as well. If a Cavaul Officer were ever to be discredited, he would have the eye which the tattoo went over removed. This Moonfox fellow seemed intact however, and a real charmer as well.

“... so I was waiting there by the drydock, had been since noon mind you, and I was thinking of sodding off to go an’ get more cigars. But what do I see before me, the Courier running towards me, five pounds drenched with seawater, yelling to see the Captain Aldanion. I wave the guy down and see what he’s got for me, he gives me a soaking roll of paper which tells me that I’ll be in charge of the entire 3rd Fleet of Cavaul. I ask how he had come to me with such big orders in the state he was in, and the guy tells me he had mislaid them, and only found the orders again as his ship was settin’ off, the guy jumped overboard and swam back to shore before his ship could leave harbor.”

This was met with tasteful laughter from his audience. “Now the story’s much less impressive once you hear that he would have surely been executed if he had failed to give the orders to me, but I think it’s a riot either way.” The crowd laughed along with him. Kayseri approached the Admiral, pushing politely through them and extending his hand in a formal military greeting. The Admiral absentmindedly shook his hand as he continued to speak to one of the wealthy guests. 

“Greetings Admiral! I am Kayseri Allaki, knight of the holy Savac Order. It is nice to meet another man of such respect here at an event which is so political in nature.”

He sipped down more of his wine and turned to Kayseri, looking a little confused. “Yes, er, indeed.”

“I trust you’re taking the peace and calm well, I know after my time with the Vilerenders came to an end every moment of brief quiet was like sweet cake. Sweet cake laced with the toxic powder of moral obligation to return to the good fight of course, but sweet cake nonetheless.”

“I-I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“I figured I’d been out of the loop. Has the War of Red Omen not ended?” 

“No. Officers only serve in the war during the summer.”
Kayseri was confounded, this man was touted as a great leader. Admiral Aldanion began to walk away. The other guests didn’t seem to pay any more mind to Kayseri, they followed Aldanion away from him. Zoll came to Kayseri’s side to comfort him. 

“We walked away from the Vilerenders for a reason, why would Cavaul’s Navy be any better? We should be glad we got out.” They went to have a seat and wait for dinner to arrive.

Dinner began with exquisite showmanship, the dinner bells rang while platters of roast and raw duck were brought out by servants, Niern vegetables and Roni fruits were placed in baskets along the tables and fine silverware was handed out. The Roni Clan leaders were seated on the right arm of the table, while the Niern bureaucrats and officers were seated to the left. Mandrigon sat in the middle, in between Admiral Aldanion and the High Visekar. Gane was seated near them, with Allene being the only other recognizable face around him. Down the middle of the table he could see his friends along with some of the less wealthy or affluent guests.

Wine was poured and Mandrigon raised his glass in a toast. “To Sohouta, to its future, and to all the people who will bring it to be.”

A dignified cheer of support was raised by both sides, and then the sound of clinking glasses. Gane toasted with Allene and Kayseri. Zoll and Yhora had been seated farther down the table from them by the organizers. They looked uncomfortable, Yhora was staring over at the Nohanja Clan leaders across the way, and Zoll was surrounded by several young women who tried to make small talk to him.

“Hello, nice to meet you! You look very different from the other people here, are you Ronic? Moridian? Vhae?”

“I am a Zoll.”

Dinner had begun, and Gane was immediately roped into the political discussions taking place among the host and his most esteemed guests. 

“So tell me Admiral…” Mandrigon asked. “Come summer the War of Red Omen will re-commence. How goes the struggle against Praedium?”

“The Righteous Alliance has kept its garrison on the Isle of Vanbast for yet another year, so it looks to be a typical summer of attacks on supply lines and focusing heavily on the Triple Siege of Vanbast.”

Gane watched the conversation go back and forth. He nodded and pretended like he could follow along. The War of Red Omen had been going on since far before he was born, and there had never been a single bit of news out of it. At least none that was important enough to trickle down to his village. 

Admiral Aldanion continued. “Our main issues are of supply and manpower. Cavaul and her vassals have put in more than their fair share of resources into the war, but the other Righteous Realms have not done so. Lyriss gives only ships, the Crowns of Nierlyben offer strategists and engineers, and Kellylin gives us what amounts to nothing at all.” This slight caused the Clan leaders from the Kellylin side to glare and whisper. The High Visekar was still, and Mandrigon motioned for them to calm themselves. He spoke up for them.

“I understand that you need all that you can get, and I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised with Kellylin’s contributions to the war in the immediate future.” This caused the tensions to sink down a bit. Mandrigon changed the subject. “You mentioned high hopes for this year’s campaign. A new enemy on its way to Praedium’s shores. The King in the Chariot maybe? Perhaps victory is in sight?”

This caught Gane’s attention. It’s not what one would expect to hear in a political discussion. The King in the Chariot was a Familiar legend. It spoke of a great and powerful Orderbound King who lived across the sea, far from the rest of Starside. He was said to be the great ally in the fight against Praedium, who would reveal himself in their hour of need. Mandrigon and Aldanion received some odd looks from the Niern and Roni sides of the table upon bringing it up. Mandrigon changed the subject again. 

“Perhaps war is an inappropriate subject for such a dignified assembly. What of other news?” He pointed to the bureaucrats from Nierlyben. “What of our homeland?”

“Well there is the wedding between house Colea and house Wheitlily.” 

“Yes that is far nicer news. I’ve heard it will be a splendid reception.”

And so the talk turned dull, nothing Gane could give any insight on. High profile weddings and talk of estate management. This lasted for about another hour until the dinner began to wind down. The strict manners began to loosen as people mingled across the lines drawn around them. Mandrigon stood up and excused himself from the table, he approached Gane.

“It seems like things are finishing up nicely here. I would like you to come with me. I have a proposal for you.”

“Sure. But shouldn’t we find Yhora and Kay-”

“No. I’d like it to be a private meeting. I insist, it will not take long at all.”

Gane was swept out of Rosin Hall and up a flight of stairs to the top floor.

---

Yhora excused herself from the table. She had been sitting quietly and had avoided drawing any attention to herself, so her absence went unnoticed by the people around her. She left for the balcony, stepping out into the chilled air, feeling the pressures of the room behind her dissipate. 

She had been trapped at a table full of her Clan’s elites, the ones who she had abandoned, and who had abandoned her. She needed to be away from them for a while. The only other company that had been around her were obnoxious Niern noblemen, all clambering to each other about how Mandrigon would follow in Sonne Lejacy’s footsteps. They were beginning to worry her, Mandrigon especially had been breathing down Gane’s neck all night. She should have helped him get away too, she was worried for him. But there was nothing she could do now.

She took in the fresh air, and the solitude. Turning around to admire the view she was immediately broken from her train of thought. Sajazar was standing there, perched on the side of the balcony. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Tracking.”

“Tracking me?!”

“No. Tracking Tone Cultists. Tracking Gane. There is dark magic abound in this city and I’m near the source.”

“Well keep track of Gane for me. I’m worried about him. The Overseer has been keeping him close.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” Saj jumped up and scaled the side of the estate, keeping himself hidden as he climbed away. Yhora was left alone on the balcony. Wondering about Saj, Gane, and her clan.

She leaned against the railing and looked out over the grounds of the Itsusu courtyard.  She looked across the roofs, the roofs which all shined the same color at night, making it nearly impossible to tell which district she was looking at. Her gaze slipped off of the roofs and into the forests that surrounded Sohouta. She tried to have some sort of a profound thought about what had happened out there, but couldn’t find one. Was she on Sajazar’s side now, no she had committed to helping Gane. She remembered killing the Cu’maru, and how little peace that brought her. Saj might be right about dark magic to some degree, she won’t subject herself to it again. That forest had done terrifying things to her.

The sounds of revelry still came from inside Rosin Hall. Yhora remained out in the brisk dark air, the urge to stay and the urge to go both pulled weakly at her. She knew it was rude to hide away from the rest of the party, she was about to make herself leave to sit down, when she heard an odd but familiar sound. A sharp crackling noise came from down below, near the entrance to the estate. It rang familiar, but was louder, and brighter, she could see a short flash of light from the middle of the courtyard. In an instant there were nearly a hundred men standing in the courtyard, holding hands with one another. She saw the Riftwalker standing in front of them. The Riftwalker waved at them and yelled something, the men, who all carried arms and dressed in Niern style armour, all cleared out of the courtyard and were let into the estate building. She watched them move quietly inside, courtiers holding the door open for them. Riftwalker crackled away with a spark, and returned with another loud spark, with another hundred men. Yhora turned around, there was song and loud conversation blaring inside Rosin Hall, no one inside was any the wiser. She ran back to the edge of the balcony and looked off to see a third wave of one hundred men flash into the courtyard. Yhora stared down in a panic at them, the men continued to funnel inside the Itsusu Estate, she felt for her Tsuk, it wasn't there, she didn’t carry it with her formal wear. She saw Riftwalker look up at her from the courtyard. Yhora turned to run back inside. To warn someone. Riftwalker appeared in front of her, a dagger in each hand.

“Where are you going?” She taunted. She then threw both daggers at her, one after the other.

Yhora leapt out of the way, sliding across the balcony floor. The daggers sailed off the edge. Yhora quickly stumbled to get up. Riftwalker continued to approach her, the daggers crackled and appeared back in her hands. She flicked them around backwards and plunged them down towards Yhora. She caught  Riftwalker’s wrists in her hands, shaking as she tried to hold the blades back from tearing into her chest. She felt the wrists fade out from her hands as Riftwalker teleported back a few feet. Riftwalker charged again and plunged her daggers down, Yhora let out a yell as one caught her skin and tore into it, lodging itself in her shoulder. Riftwalker slashed and cut Yhora on the chest and leg, she crumpled to the ground, struggling to hold herself up. Riftwalker stood above her and smiled, as her body crackled and morphed, taking Yhora’s face and body, keeping the twisted grin. Yhora trembled as she looked up, seeing herself standing above her. She glanced back to the door to Rosin Hall, and with her last effort, ripped the dagger from her shoulder and threw it at the door. The blade shattered the glass of the door. Riftwalker’s grin turned to a furious scowl, she grabbed Yhora by the neck and teleported both of them away. 

---

Mandrigon led Gane down a long dark hall away from all the noise. He led them to a small meeting room, with a fireplace and some fine furniture. Mandrigon showed Gane to his seat, and began to light up a fire for them.

“I took part in the Affairs you know. That assembly of the greatest people in the Southeast  whose leadership led the Cavaul Empire to its greatest extent. As a young man I was an apprentice to the man of myth himself, Sonne Lejacy. There was a leader who possessed vision, a vision for his own future, a future which he would have brought to pass. The way I see it, his qualities are missing from the generation that came afterwards. There are so many nowadays who are willing to sit contentedly and watch. But you’re different, you’re Rojon’s grandchild, aren’t you? Rojon took part in the Affairs as well. He was known as ‘the Cardhanded’.”

Mandrigon struck a match and dipped it carefully into the tinder, fanning it and letting it grow. Gane watched helplessly. 

“I am his grandchild. But he never told me about any of that.”

“I doubt he would, he was not the most saintly of us. The name Cardhanded means gambler in Cavaul, and he was well known among our group for his vice.”

Gane could feel the heat of the fire on his face, he was flustered. Mandrigon took notice.

“I’m sure he would have told you sooner or later. I thought he had used all his luck up after escaping the Night the Walls Came Down. But it seems like he has continued to play the odds. I think you are his greatest gamble.”

Gane was quiet for a moment, hurting at the thought that Rojon had been hiding so much from him. “...I might be. But why are you telling me this?”

“Mutual interest and a good stroke of fate. You’ve come with a tremendous task on your hands. You might see it as a burden but I think it is the greatest leverage to ever be given to a person. I’m a man with great means who needs leverage, you’re a man with great leverage who needs means.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Gane. You are not going to save the world’s magic all on your own. If you were more well read on the matter then you’d know that in order to complete the Restoration, you must do more than find a dusty old artifact, you must store all types of magic in the world in said artifact. It takes years of work and more knowledge than any one person possesses. And any form of magic that you miss will fade out of existence forever!”

Gane began to sweat, he could feel the heat of the fire emanating out, it hung in the room and pressed its hands down on his temples. Mandrigon was facing out the window, but he could feel eyes from all over the room peering at him. “Let me show you how I can help you.”

---

Yhora awoke in a rank abyss. Her hands were submerged in a puddle of water, her head pounded, her cuts stung. She sat up violently, the little light around her revealed thick stone walls and iron bars. She grabbed on to them and shook to no avail, she yelled out for anyone. No response. She slumped back down onto the wet floor.

“This is where he puts us, this is it, this is here. Why does he stare?” A crooked old voice called out from the other side of her cage.

She spun around and stared into the shadows that covered the far side of the cell. “I’m sorry?”

A roni man with curled horns and pale baggy skin shuffled out of the shadow. “Why does he- Why does he stare? The Overseer. This is where he puts us, I’m sorry, when we find, this is where he puts us…” The man rambled.

“The Overseer?” He put you here?

Hearing Yhora’s response his head shot up, revealing his bloodshot eyes in the torchlight. He was manic, but tried desperately to articulate himself.“Here! Here is where he puts us! The Overseer, his eyes are not blind! Don’t look into his eyes! He traded his blood for the Beast’s Eyes!”

A chill went up Yhora’s spine as she remembered Mandrigon’s presence. If that is what the Beast’s eyes felt like through a blindfold, then she would heed his warning. The man curled himself back up in the shadowy corner of the room. Yhora turned back to the iron bars. Up there Gane was being stared down by a monster, and an army had invaded her home in secret. She felt around desperately for anything that could help her escape, until she was stopped by the sound of a soldier marching down the stairs towards her cell. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes.

The sound got closer, metal clanking and whispers, until it was right in front of her cell. 

“Psst. Yhora. Are you alive?”

Her eyes burst open. Saj was standing in the torchlight, without his mask. She ran up to him and pushed on the bars.

“Get us out of here! The Overseer is a dark magician and Gane is in danger.”

“I’m aware. The Tone cultists and Jaarekins I’ve been stalking have all led back to him.” He put his hand on the lock and took a deep breath. Black shocks crackled around the lock for a second before it blew off its hinges and the door lurched open. Saj took one of his swords from its hilt. He gave it to Yhora.

She stepped out of the cell and began to follow Saj back up the stairs, but turned back to the rambling Roni man. “The door is broken. You can go free.”

“The Beast’s Eyes. There is no free. Don’t look into his eyes…”

Yhora sighed and continued following Saj up the stairs. “How bad is it up there?”

---

The doors were locked and the shades were drawn. Mandrigon’s two apprentices were preparing the room for a demonstration. They moved the tables out of the way and put the fire out before filling it with new dry logs. Mandrigon stared out the window silently. He seemed engrossed by something. 

Gane sat thigh on his chair while the other furniture was moved. The middle of the room had been cleared. Allene and Riftwalker said nothing to him while they worked. Finally Mandrigon broke the silence.

“Are you familiar with the nature of magic?”

“No sir.”

“Good. Then we can enlighten you.” He did not look away from the covered window. “Magic is the most dynamic substance in the world. Magic can be harvested, from the ground of beloved mountains or from the springs that inspire beauty. It can be forged like iron, ground like sand, flow like water, or disperse like air. It is created by emotion, any emotion from any form of life. A great sword that is beloved by a people will eventually gain the power that they feel it has. A city will obtain the beauty that it evokes in the hearts of its inhabitants. And a beast that is feared by many will grow powerful from their terror.” Mandrigon removed his blindfold and an eerie green light began to fill the room, he remained facing away from everyone. “But there is a way to bypass the necessity of creating new magic. Liquid magic can be infused with blood. This is called Sanguinism, and we are Sanguinites. It grants great power. And we are offering it to you.”

Gane recoiled at this. He shivered in his chair and stared wide-eyed at the sorcery that he was seeing before him. 

“My apprentices will demonstrate.” He said without looking forward. Riftwalker stepped forward. 

“You’ve already seen a taste of what I can do.”  She teleported across the room and back with a static crackle. Then shifted her face to that of Gane, Allene, and Yhora. “I can be anywhere I know, and anyone I’ve seen.”

Allene stepped forward. She pulled her winter coat’s sleeves back and blasted a ball of fire into the fireplace, reigniting it in a flash of heat. Allene then tempered the flame in her hands, until it burned like a small candle light, and put it out. She pulled her coat tighter and shivered. 

Gane kept his eyes on her, why would she conceal a thing like that? She looked away. Mandrigon stepped forward. His eyes were shut tightly, green light bled through his eyelids. 

“I must reveal that I’ve been lying to you. My blindness is a cover, a misdirect to disguise the power that Sanguinism has given me. I possess the eyes of a god, I can see through walls, in all directions, and through any illusions. I can see inside any room in this city through closed curtains, I can read every page of a book locked inside a lightless safe, I can find anyone, so long as I search long enough. But they are dangerous, mortals are not meant to look upon my deific eyes, so I conceal them.” He leaned in towards Gane, with his lunar eyes burning through his eyelids. “So I ask you. Will you take this power and join forces?”

“I-I’d like.. To think about it.” Gane choked, shutting his eyes and turning his face away.

“NO! You will answer me now!  You have the chance to right the stars and I’m offering you the power, what do you say!?”

“I refuse.” Gane mumbled.

“WHAT!?”

“I Refuse!”

“...Then you will be replaced with another bland thread.”

Mandrigon spun towards the door and burst his eyes open just as the door was smashed open by Saj and Yhora. The room was flooded with a green glow.Saj dropped to the ground and screamed in pain. He grasped at his eyes which had made direct contact with Mandrigon’s. Yhora was fast enough to drop to the floor and cover her face. 

“You cannot sneak up on me! I see all!”

Gane leapt away into a sprint and pulled out his Smokeheart, releasing a cloud into the room. Mandrigon was again unaffected, but the chaos was enough to throw off Allene and Riftwalker. He ran to the side of Saj and Yhora, and helped to pick them up in the confusion. They ran for it. 

Mandrigon waved smoke away from his face as it began to dissipate from the room. He closed his eyes and put his blindfold back on. He began to adjust his suit and dust off his shoulders.

“Riftwalker, I want you to pursue them. Allene, come with me.” 

“What will we do?” Allene asked.

“We still have dinner guests to attend to.”