Arkk sat at the meeting table, fingers clasped together in front of his mouth while he looked around the room over the tops of his knuckles. It was a typical meeting. Vezta stood just behind him and Ilya had taken her usual seat to his right. They were joined by Zullie and Savren, Olatt’an and Rekk’ar, Khan, Lexa, and Alma—the latter being a new addition representing the majority of the beastmen.
Of the usual crew, Agnete was missing. She was recovering from the exposure to Vrox’s ice marble in her quarters.
Alya stood tall on the opposite side of the table from Arkk. She had been offered a seat but had chosen to stand instead. Like accepting the chair would be a sign of condoning this place.
Arkk took his eyes off Alya for a moment, looking at Ilya. “Is all that true?”
“I saw it with my own eyes. It was like the canyons out near Moonshine, except high in the sky, with jagged edges and stars shining down despite being in the middle of the day. And that…” Ilya shuddered. “I think it was an eye. I swear it stared directly at me.”
Arkk turned to his other side, raising an eyebrow at Vezta.
The servant shook her head. “There should be no reasonable way for anyone of this world to interact with the [STARS]. Even the [PANTHEON], even Xel’atriss has been unable to meaningfully interact with the realm above.”
Alya flinched at the use of the [CONSTRUCTED LANGUAGE].
Arkk ignored the matriarch, turning back to Ilya as the younger elf began to speak again.
“I don’t think it was that. Like Mom said, the eye was massive. Larger than the moon. Those stars you described after possessing Vezta were tiny—or, at least, distant.”
“Possessing?” Alya all but whispered, eyes widening as she looked between Arkk and Vezta.
Arkk continued to ignore her, looking from Vezta to Zullie. “Could it have been Xel’atriss? Poking through?”
“It wasn’t designed to do anything like that,” Zullie said, sharing a look with Savren.
“Our ceremony, commandeered by a celestial, could create whatever causes it craved.”
Vezta nodded along with Savren’s words. “A god intervened in our ritual. The effects could have been anything.”
Arkk turned back to Ilya. “Seven days ago?”
“Yep,” Ilya said with a wan, I-told-you-so smile. “It was you, wasn’t it.”
Arkk closed his eyes and sighed. “I think I lied to Inquisitor Vrox,” he said, earning a small chuckle from Zullie. “Alright. How credible is his suggestion that the one who… broke the sky will end the world?”
“Xel’atriss, Lock and Key, may not be the most personable of the [PANTHEON],” Vezta said, sounding genuinely offended. “She would never seek harm. The Eternal Silence, the Red Horse, or the Laughing Prince, perhaps. Not Xel’atriss.”
“And you don’t intend to end the world,” Ilya said. She paused and looked to Arkk with a slight frown. “Right?”
“Of course I— Why do you sound so suspicious?”
Ilya reached over, nudging Arkk in the ribs with her elbow. “Teasing,” she said, silver eyes glinting with humor. That humor didn’t stick around for long. “Some of what my mother had to say does concern me, however.”
“Hold that thought for now,” Arkk said. “We’re not quite done with this apocalypse talk.” He turned back to Vezta, Savren, and Zullie. “The gods might be perfect and infallible,” he said, not quite sure if he believed that or not. He didn’t have enough experience. At least three of them seemed fairly fallible though, the three traitor gods. “We aren’t. How likely is it that we accidentally bring about the end of the world? That we already have by opening that portal.”
Zullie, Savren, and Vezta all looked at one another. Throughout the rest of the room, other glances went around. Rekk’ar leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Lexa drummed her fingers on the table in a nervous tick. No one spoke. No one had an answer.
Alma flattened her ears against her head, sighing. “Why am I even here? I’m not a spellcaster or a cleric. I don’t have anything to contribute.”
The brilles over Khan’s eyes shifted, letting him look over to the shorter werecat. “Jusst ssleep,” he said as the odd scales around his eyes closed once again. “They’ll let you know when they want ssomething.”
Arkk gave the two a flat look, which Khan ignored but made Alma’s ears flatten down further. They were here to keep their respective groups informed of the goings on of the fortress. But Alma wasn’t wrong. This was a meeting for those magically inclined. Inviting everyone to every meeting was probably unnecessary.
Shaking his head, he looked back to the casters. “The main concern that I can see is the level of ambient magic in the Underworld.”
“We don’t know for certain whether the ambient magic is why that world is the way it is,” Zullie said. She motioned to herself and Savren. “We’re spell and ritual researchers, not a part of the magienvironmental corps. I can give you a few names of those at the academy who might be more knowledgeable about that kind of stuff. Doubt they’d be willing to join though.”
“Until we do get some experts, we’ll assume for now,” Arkk said. “We need to watch the portal, see if any magic is leaking over. If it isn’t, or it is at such a tiny rate that it will be a thousand years before it affects this world, we don’t need to worry about it in the short term.”
“And if it is something of immediate concern?”
Arkk pressed his lips together. “Let’s just find out if it is, first.”
Zullie nodded her head and looked at Savren. “I’m sure we can come up with some way to measure the effects of the portal on this world. We can set up a few monitoring wards. One right next to the portal, another further away. Maybe more dotted around the Duchy to see any far-reaching effects.”
“Make it happen.”
Rekk’ar leaned forward again, resting a fist on the table. “This doesn’t solve the issue of the armies bearing down on us. Again, we’re focused too much on your little portals and not enough on the people trying to kill us all.”
Arkk interlaced his fingers, staring at Rekk’ar as his mind churned.
“Our situation is worse now,” Rekk’ar continued, taking the attention as an invitation to speak his mind. “If your friend inquisitor was right, the Abbey is going to try to get the Duke to stand down and turn his blades on you. After burning down his manor, he might even be happy to do it.”
“Suggestions?” Arkk asked.
Rekk’ar thumped his fist against the table. Not angrily. It was a rhythmic, pensive thumping as he considered. As he thought, Arkk turned to the rest of the room.
“Kill ’em all first,” Lexa said with a casual shrug. “You already invaded the Duke’s manor. Just go back and finish the job.”
Alya sucked in a breath, eyes wide at the gremlin’s suggestion. “You would lop off the head of our armies in the middle of war?”
“They aren’t our armies,” Lexa shot back, glaring up at the tall elf. “Like the orc said, might not be a war if they join up with the enemy. I admit, I’m not a big war person. Just a humble thief.” She pulled out a dagger from somewhere inside her jacket and started trimming one of her fingernails with it. “But when a few thieves have a little turf war, taking out the leaders is a perfectly valid tactic. Force the rest of the group into your own.”
“I doubt the Duke’s Grand Guard would be all that happy to join us after killing the Duke,” Ilya said with no small amount of sarcasm in her tone.
“What about the Evestani?” Olatt’an asked. As everyone’s heads turned to him, he sat up straighter, looking less like the lax old orc and more like a proper warrior. “I imagine the Duke is furiously consulting with the entire academy and the inquisitors to make sure you can’t attack his manor in the same way again. But the Evestani likely lacks such foresight or protections. Can we tear their throats out? Maybe absorb their armies if they were forced into it.”
“The golden-eyed boy is a concern,” Arkk said with a frown. “As long as that thing is driving the army forward, I doubt they’ll stop even if we somehow manage to blow up the entirety of Evestani’s leaders.”
“The Heart of Gold’s avatar,” Vezta said, “is likely the cause for this war. At the party, you may recall that it saw me and had a reaction to me. While it was clearly planning the war in advance, now that it knows for sure, I doubt it will stop unless we kill it or it destroys us.”
“It’s already demonstrated an ability to possess others at a distance. Unless we figure out where it truly is, killing it permanently might be impossible.”
Rekk’ar let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slowly. “All this talk of gods and leaders and avatars. You all are missing the forest for the trees. You don’t need to kill an unkillable avatar to stop the army.” He splayed out his hand on the table, five fingers sliding forward slowly. Bringing over his other hand, he slid a single finger toward the five. He clenched that one finger into his fist and the five, slowly advancing fingers came to a stop. “An army, even a magically enhanced one, marches on its stomach. If the stomachs are empty, the march stops.
“Every burg they’ve captured acts as a storehouse and a waystation, but the army hasn’t spent time reinforcing or defending those points with their hasty advance.”
“Destroy or capture the supplies and they’ll have nothing,” Arkk said, nodding his head.
“And with Evestani’s army starving to death, the Duchy can clean them up. Unless they join forces, in which case we destroy the Duchy’s supply lines. Our magic lets us move with impunity. We can strike anywhere, any time.”
Arkk nodded his head. That was a much better plan than standing around in Elmshadow waiting for an assault of thousands. Supply caravans would be defended, of that Arkk had no doubt, but Company Al-Mir had ample experience in fighting down moderate groups of armed opponents.
“Draw up plans,” Arkk said, looking between Rekk’ar and Olatt’an. “Get into contact with Hawkwood—preferably before word of the Duke’s incident reaches him—and find out the best places to strike. He’ll know better than us. We can scry locations and send out strike teams.” He waited a moment, looking around the group. “Any other pressing matters? No? Zullie, Savren, get on those rituals. Rekk’ar, Olatt’an, get planning for attacks. Everyone else is dismissed except Ilya and Alya.”
Arkk watched the room disperse. The two orcs walked out, quietly talking to one another. Lexa hopped up and headed out with them, trying to interject in their conversation. Khan uncoiled from his stone and slithered out, barely opening his eyes in the process. Alma practically fled.
No. She did flee.
She was generally well regarded among the beastmen, having been known to most before Arkk’s recruitment in Cliff City. Unfortunately, she had the assertiveness of a skittish flopkin. It wasn’t just this meeting. Every meeting since he had decided to include her had gone something like this. Which was probably Arkk’s fault for threatening her with Vezta upon their first meeting. Even now, she wouldn’t so much as glance in Vezta’s direction if she could help it.
He would probably need to find someone else to fill that position. Perhaps someone from the manor’s dungeons?
He needed to deal with that too. Some—most, probably—would join with the refugees in the far wing of the fortress. Some would join up. Kelsey, the ox beastman, was interviewing them at the moment, checking in on each. Arkk still needed to personally see to at least those who wanted to join Company Al-Mir.
And then he needed to gather everyone except the essential guards for an announcement.
He had done it. The Duke was his enemy. Officially. Even if the Duke kept his focus on Evestani for the moment, Company Al-Mir were sure to be branded outlaws. Responsible for those under his banner, Arkk couldn’t leave them ignorant. Some would surely desert. It was some small comfort that the fortress was underground. Nobody would be able to point out where he was located if he dropped them off via teleport rituals near Cliff City.
The false fortress was still in place and open to the surface. Arkk hadn’t touched it since the inquisitors romped through it. If he were Vrox—or Sylvara or any other inquisitor—Arkk’s first step would be to return and see if there were any clues left behind that might let them find him. Assuming they didn’t know that he hadn’t left in the first place.
The door slammed shut, leaving Arkk with a pair of elves and one ancient monster.
“So,” he said, looking from Ilya to Alya and back.
Getting back to the fortress had taken some time with how many people they had to move through each teleport circle. Arkk had already done some casual catching up. Ilya was… not exactly healed completely. The Flesh Weaving had done a number on her, though it saved her life, and left her with a tension in most of her stomach and chest that just wouldn’t go away.
He would have to send her to Zullie later. The witch was more skilled with the spell than Arkk was. She might be able to repair or at least alleviate the problem.
“You ventured into the Cursed Forest,” Alya said, tone barely concealing her anger. “Ilya told me. You found…” Her silver eyes flicked over to where Vezta had stood during the meeting.
Arkk couldn’t help narrowing his eyes at the judgment in her voice. “You took me in when my parents died. Thank you for that. But that was fifteen years ago. You have no right to come back and—”
“Arkk—” Ilya started.
Her mother cut her off. “Levi took me as tribute,” she hissed. “Paraded me around in front of anyone he wanted to impress like I was a piece of fine artwork.”
Arkk rolled his eyes, not sure if she was complaining or just complimenting herself. “Yes, you sure looked upset at the party. Vizier. Be honest now, how much trouble would it have been to leave him if you wanted?”
“It isn’t that simple,” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t leave. I had responsibilities. Levi began confiding in me early on and grew to trust my opinions. I tempered his worst traits, pulled strings behind the scenes, encouraged meetings between the Duchy and Evestani and even the Tetrarchy.”
Arkk stood, slamming his palms against the table. “When you were off playing politics, did you even once think of us? Of Ilya? I remember, after you were taken, we cried ourselves to sleep for weeks.”
“Arkk…” Ilya said, resting a hand on his arm.
“I lost my parents. And then I lost you. And Ilya…” Arkk clenched his teeth together. “I remember being curled up in bed with Ilya one night. We promised that one day… One day, we would go to the capital city, break into the Duke’s dungeons, and rescue you from his cruelty.” Arkk let out a low, sardonic laugh. “Guess I fulfilled that promise, didn’t I?”
Alya crossed her arms, face stony. “With the aid of abominations and anathema magic.”
“Not even a thank you? It isn’t too late to put you back, you know. We could teleport you right onto the Duke’s drawbridge and I’m sure you’d be back in your cushy cell in minutes.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Ilya said, pulling Arkk back from the table. She grabbed hold of his shoulders and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “It’s alright,” she whispered into his ear. For a long moment, Arkk just stood, leaning into Ilya’s arms. It relaxed him more than he could say.
Everything had been so stressful lately. The war and the portal and the golden-eyed child and…
“Thanks,” he whispered back, feeling all that stress melt away. It wouldn’t last forever. Even now, as he pulled out of the hug, he could feel it returning. Still, that moment of reprieve was worth both their weights in gold.
“Mom and I talked,” Ilya said, running her fingers through her silver hair. “I… We still have things to work out. But she does have information on… this place.”
Arkk couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Anathema, abominations, apocalypse, and horrors from beyond the stars. Yes, yes. I’ve heard it all from Master Inquisitor Vrox. As you heard in the meeting, I’m taking the possibility of apocalypse quite seriously. But most of everything is nonsense spoken from a position of ignorance.”
“Position of ignorance?” Alya said, judgment back in her tone in full force. “You, being led astray by that creature makes you more ignorant than most.”
“Oh yes, because you know anything more than the one doing it all,” Arkk said with a sneer. “That unnatural moon in the broken sky? I’m pretty sure that was the literal god I was speaking with at the time. I had a nice sit-down and cup of tea with a being larger than this plane. I think I’m more qualified than most to know what I’m talking about.
“You, on the other hand, are running off… What? Thousand-year-old prophecies?” Arkk said, shaking his head. “Prophecies likely handed out by the ones responsible for the sorry state of the world.”
“Sorry state?”
“Fairies can’t use magic when they used to be one of the most magical beings alive. Dragons and their relatives can’t procreate. Dwarves and hundreds of other magic-dependent species have gone extinct. Magic itself is likely dying and…” Arkk stopped himself and looked to Ilya. “Ilya knows what we’re working toward. If she hasn’t told you yet, she’s welcome to. I, however, am not particularly interested in what you have to say nor am I interested in explaining myself to you any further. I have administrative duties to attend to.
“Ilya can show you to the canteen and I have prepared a room for you next to the rooms Yavin and Nyala are staying in. A proper room, not a dungeon cell. There is a tailor if you need additions to your wardrobe and…” Arkk shook his head, stopping himself before he explained everything away. “Ilya knows where everything is.”
“What are you going to do?” Ilya asked.
“Meet with those we rescued from the Duke’s manor. Let people know that the Duke hates us. Then…” Arkk looked to Ilya, raising an eyebrow. “How would you like to see an entirely new world?”
Ilya sucked in a breath. “I gathered from the meeting but… you got it working?”
“The world isn’t quite what we hoped, but it is different.”
Pressing her lips together, Ilya glanced at her mother. Although she got a disapproving look in return, she still turned back to Arkk with a nod of her head.
“Excellent. I’ll come find you once I’m finished.”