Chapter 6: The Battle for Port Saif

Previously in Chapter 5: After eluding capture in Centra, Dalan, Tobias, Jonathan, Artemis and Claude arrived in Gabradia, where they met the head of the Council of Guilds, Gil Regalia. Dalan explained to her that they had reason to believe that the Elvaan were preparing an invasion of Hume lands in the near future. Gil, stunned by this information, revealed that there was little that she could do on such short notice save for contacting Guilder Aramis, an ally in the Council of Guilds, who was well respected by the Centran military forces. Dalan set out for Al-Mahid, hoping to warn Murad of the Elvaan plot, allowing Al-Mahid to be prepared in the event that such an invasion did occur. Tobias joined him as well, hoping to free his imprisoned parents before the capital of Akhmet is invaded. Artemis agreed to travel to Al-Mahid as well, in order to do whatever he could to prevent the Elvaan invasion and Jonathan joined them because he had no home to return to. Claude, however, declined to go, believing that he could be much more useful elsewhere and began preparations to set out for his ship at sunrise...

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Chapter 6: The Battle for Port Saif

Dalan rubbed his eyes, blinking to see his surroundings after the bright light of portal travel. He felt the ground beneath him and guessed its grainy consistency that he was sitting in sand. The sounds of metal against metal, pounding feet and shouting filled his ears. Someone ran past him shouting “The docks! Don't let them come ashore!"
“Where are we off to?” Tobias asked.
“I say we find Murad first, so we can warn him about the Elvaan. He will probably be able to deal with things. After that, we should get to Bah'rati as well,” Dalan shouted over the deafening din of battle.
“Guilder Ibrahim, huh?” Artemis yelled. “Thats fine by me. I would rather not run into Bah'rati though,”
“Why?” Dalan asked.
“Let’s just say, we have a bit of bad blood between us,” Artemis said turning and looking to the docks. Five large blocky carrack ships rested in the docks, Centrans in chain mail swarming out of them. Dalan could barely make out the shapes of three ships remaining at sea, maintaining a moderate distance from the shore. A few blasts of smoke and bright orange flame issued from the battleships still at sea.
“Cannons!” Dalan shouted as he dove for the ground. Three of the cannonballs fell far short of Dalan's position hitting the sand of the seashore ahead, sending the Akhmet forces advancing on the docked ship flying. Two more cannonballs flew overhead, striking two buildings further up the road with a deafening crash.
“I know Murad. He'll be up front fighting with everyone else. Let’s go!” Dalan said.
“Wait, we are going down there!?” Artemis shouted, pointing at the mass of Akhmet soldiers, who, despite continued bombardment by the distant battleships, continued to advance up the shore, encircling the Centran forces, who were falling back to defend the higher ground of the sandstone port.
“What did you come here to do? See the sights?” Dalan said, turning to run down the road. Artemis, Tobias and Jonathan ran beside him.
“Well at least Al-Mahid has found someone competent at military strategy since I last visited this damned sand pit.” Artemis replied.
“Last visited?” Dalan asked.
“Yeah. Remember, I traveled all across Hume lands for my Zmarrd'k.” Dalan looked at Artemis skeptically. He was in Al-Mahid? There has to be more to this than he is saying. Dalan shook his head. There is just so much that I'm not sure about anymore. Artemis continued. “Last time I saw the Al-Mahid army, the strategy of choice was to throw as many soldiers as they could at the enemy. Now they actually seem somewhat organized.”
“That's Murad for you. Perfect commander, incredible fighter, incurable womanizer. A scoundrel after my own heart,” Dalan replied, running down a flight of stone steps which led down a steep incline onto the shore below.
“I said competent,” Artemis replied. “If he was perfect or even merely good, the Centrans wouldn't have even landed. He would have...”
“Guys, we should watch out,” Tobias shouted, interrupting Artemis. “What if both sides mistake us for combatants? Three of us at least look Centran. And Dalan is unmistakably Mora.” Jonathan looked up, and shook his head in dismay.
“Then we fight,” Dalan responded. “And Artemis. If at all possible, try not to kill. We want to warn them, not cause more damage,” Dalan said, looking over his shoulder. He stepped onto the shore and felt his shoes sink into the cold, soft sand. Al-Mahid soldiers rushed past him to the port further down the beach.
“Can't promise you anything,” Artemis shrugged. “If they try to kill me, they are fair game too,” Dalan sighed, but did not respond
“Looks like that port is our destination,” Dalan said, turning to look at the company. He noticed that Artemis was trudging awkwardly through the sand. “Sandals, Artemis?” Dalan said, looking at Artemis’ feet in disbelief.
“Hey, its not like I had time to stop by home and get a nice change of clothes. Don't worry, I'll keep up... Hm?” Artemis looked up as one of the soldiers broke off from the crowd and charged at him. “Hey!” Artemis shouted. “I'm not Centran!” The soldier, however, paid him no heed. “Damn it, get out of my way!” Artemis said, annoyance and anger bringing his voice to a crescendo. He held his hand out and the soldier flew backward, colliding with a nearby comrade. “Come on!” Artemis shouted as he rushed to Dalan's side. Tobias ran up beside them and Jonathan followed close behind, panting heavily.
“Jonathan, behind you!” Artemis shouted. Another soldier had broken from the crowd and was running at Jonathan, knife in hand. Dalan stopped, drawing his knife and charged the soldier, crashing into the man's lower chest and sending the soldier tumbling over him, falling face first into the sand. He turned around and delivered a swift kick to the soldier's head and the man went limp.
“At this rate, we'll get killed before we get to the port. Come on, we look like civilians!” Dalan said, turning to Artemis, and beginning to run once more, his feet throwing a flurry of sand up in his wake.
“Yeah, but the problem is, three of us look like Centrans. And I'm sure that a few civilians have signed on to the Centran army for the pay. Loads of unskilled craftworkers who would love to be paid like soldiers,” Artemis said, his voice level despite the quick clip with which they ran through the sand. Dalan winced as a deafening roar split the air as another cannonball struck the sand not meters away. He shielded his eyes against the grit and sand which blew in his face and continued to press toward the dock, which was still much further down the beach.
“Another one!” Jonathan shouted, running up next to Dalan, pointing out a Mora soldier running to intercept them.
“That looks like… Damnation! I knew we'd run into him,” Artemis muttered under his breath as he looked at the advancing assailant. “Dalan, Tobias, Jonathan! Get down!”
“What did you say?” Dalan shouted, but cried out in alarm when he was lifted off of the ground and found himself hurtling through the air. He saw two silvery objects whistle past his head as he landed face first into the sand. The grit in his eyes stung and prevented him from seeing where he had landed, but he heard Tobias cursing nearby.
“Loross'i!” an enraged voice bellowed clearly over the din of battle. Dalan rubbed his eyes, his vision slowly focusing. He saw Artemis cartwheel out of the way of two silvery objects which flew at him, thrown by their unknown assailant.
“Bah'rati!” Artemis shouted as Bah'rati rushed at him. “This... is... not... the... time!” Bah'rati, however, seemed to take no notice as he drew his katars from under his cloak and gripped them by the horizontal bars under the delta-shaped blades. Artemis drew his blade, which shone a light blue in the intense flickering torchlight, and stepped into a defensive stance. In seconds, Bah'rati was upon him, slashing swiftly and accurately with his blades, Artemis stepping backwards slowly and parrying blow after blow, his brow wrinkled in concentration. Damn. Bah'rati's fast. Not giving Artemis a moment to use magicks. Dalan thought as Bah'rati spun around, bringing one of his katars in a counter clockwise slash at Artemis' throat. Artemis brought his blade up and blocked the blow, stumbling backwards, tripping over his feet. Bah'rati continued and in a smooth motion, turned in the opposite direction, slashing at Artemis' abdomen. Artemis, off balance, barely avoided the slash, diving onto the ground. Bah'rati lifted his foot, as if to strike Artemis in the chest, but Artemis raised his hand, a smirk on his sand-covered face. Bah'rati flew into the air, tumbling backwards head over heels and Artemis sprang onto his feet, blade outstretched in front of him, body glowing with a golden yellow light that was brighter than the nearby torches.
“You haven't killed me yet,” Artemis panted, attempting a half-hearted cocky grin, but the best he could manage was gritting his teeth. “And they call you the mage hunter,” Artemis said. Bolts of blue electrical energy snaked forth from his blade at Bah'rati, who had rolled onto one knee. Bah'rati raised his blades in front of him, using them to intercept the electrical energy. His blades crackled with sparks as he held them out in front of him with considerable effort, standing up cautiously.
“You will die, you traitor. You will not humiliate me again!” Bah'rati bellowed as he walked forward slowly, his muscles tensed, catching the stream of energy still crackling forth from Artemis' blade.
“Traitor? I never had any allegiance to your sorry nation,” Artemis said, his body straining to direct the continued stream of electricity.
“You knew what we do when someone betrays us. You knew you would be hunted for as long as the Dey lived and yet you returned to Al-Mahid?”
“We have business here! We are trying to protect all of you, so let us do it!” Artemis shouted. Pfft. Bah'rati flipped out of the way of a flurry of crossbow bolts which zinged past the spot where he used to stand, embedding themselves in the sand. A small streak of energy snaked off from the pillar of electrical energy pouring forth from Artemis' blade and struck Bah'rati, who spasmed in midair and hit the ground, rolling to dodge the crossbow bolts which Dalan continued to pour toward him. Damnation, Bah'rati doesn't stop! Dalan thought. He knew that the Howling Blades went through months of intense preliminary training, which involved, among other things, combat, subversion training and being subjected to torture until they were numbed to pain. Still, it was amazing and somewhat frightening to see their leader’s training in action.
“Dalan!” Tobias shouted.
“A bit busy here, kid!” Dalan said as he ejected a clip of bolts from the crossbow and reached for another on his belt,” Bah'rati contiued his roll and came up on one knee, deftly throwing three knives at Dalan and Tobias, who dove out of the way. Jonathan stood not too far away, observing the battle from the peak of a nearby sand dune.
“Dalan!” Bah'rati shouted, his voice betraying a mix of surprise and anger. “I don't know why you are with Artemis, but stay out of this or I will kill you!” Artemis rushed up to him with slashing down at the kneeling Bah'rati, who rolled out of the way and came up on his feet, his cold eyes focused on the half-elf.
“Don’t call me ‘kid’! Just give me a bolt!” Tobias said, turning to Dalan.
“What are you going to do with one bolt!?” Dalan shouted, standing up and rushing to lift his crossbow from the sand.
“Cannon!” Tobias shouted as the silhouette of one of the ships lit up briefly in the distance, but Dalan couldn't hear him.
“What?” Dalan shouted, as a cannonball struck so close to Dalan that the shockwave of the impact made him stagger and lose his footing. Oh, that. Dalan thought, laughing to himself as he braced himself with one hand and stood up.
“Trust me!” Tobias shouted. Dalan picked up his crossbow, opened one of the clips on his belt and ejected a bolt into his hand. He ran over and handed it to Tobias. “Are these the bolts that I gave you to take down Artemis?” Tobias asked.
“Yes, wh-?” Dalan began to ask but stopped as he remembered the nerve poison that Tobias' friend Dr. Algathier had coated the bolts with and realized what Tobias was planning to do. The kid is crazy.. That's not his style. Too... Crazy. Dalan shrugged. “If this works, I'll buy you a round of drinks if we live through this,”
“I don't drink, remember?” Tobias said and with that, he turned and ran toward Bah'rati, who was ducking and weaving, dodging Artemis' slashes and blows. An Al-Mahid soldier running by had barely extended his arm to stab Tobias when three crossbow bolts flew through the air, one flying wide, one striking the assailant in the shoulder and the other in the neck. The man fell to the floor clutching his throat, gurgling. Damn this lighting. Can’t aim right. Dalan thought. Tobias slowed down and looked at the soldier who had almost killed him.
“Go! I'll cover you!” Dalan shouted. Tobias nodded, gripping the bolt tightly in his left hand and drawing his knife with his right, his brow furrowed in determination. Bah'rati continued to exchange blows with Artemis and Dalan noticed that he had maneuvered Bah'rati so that his back was to Tobias. Bah'rati delivered a kick to Artemis' stomach, sending him stumbling back and instead of pressing the attack, whirled around to face Tobias, who was sprinting at full speed towards him. Bah'rati's lips curled into a sinister grin. Tobias stumbled in surprise, but continued his sprint. Dalan could imagine Bah'rati thinking 'caught you’. No, I caught you. Dalan thought as he pulled the trigger of his crossbow, releasing four bolts. Bah'rati twisted to avoid the flurry of bolts, at the same time, releasing two throwing knives from his hand, which flew through the air at Tobias. Artemis held his hands out and the knives curved away from their target, harmlessly lodging themselves in the sand. Tobias winced, but continued to run at Bah'rati, now barely more than an arm's length away. Bah'rati used the momentum gained from dodging the bolts to slash at Tobias' neck, but was jarred suddenly from behind and thrown off balance. Tobias dropped to the ground and as he slid through the sand between Bah'rati's legs, he jabbed the sharp tip of the bolt into Bah'rati's right calf. Bah'rati let out a grunt and turned around to attack Tobias, but was lifted off of the ground and thrown into the sand not far away. Artemis was on his feet, watching the battle carefully, ostensibly for opportunities to give Bah'rati another telekinetic 'nudge'. Waves of shimmering energy rose off of him and he sand which covered his face stood in stark contrast to his pale freckled skin. Nice one Tobias... And that Artemis. Dalan thought, looking at over at Artemis, smiling. He may look like a pansy of a half-elf, but damnation... he can fight. Bah'rati struggled to stand up, but his body would not cooperate, as the poison spread through his veins. His limbs fell limp despite his best efforts. With the last of his strength, he pulled the crossbow bolt out of his leg, looking at it quizzically, muttered a curse and collapsed into the sand. Dalan ran over to Tobias, who was kneeling in the sand. “That was amazing! You are crazy, you know that, right?” Dalan shouted, a broad grin on his face. Tobias stood up, brushing grains of sand off of his black denim pants. Tobias tilted his head to the side and shrugged.
“Y-you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do,” He said, a little bit shaken despite his confident voice and perhaps amazed that his stunt had worked. Jonathan ran up to Artemis and checked him for wounds.
“Stand still! He said. He noticed that blood flowed from a laceration in Artemis’ right hand. Presumably from a blow from Bah’rati’s katar near the hilt of Artemis’ blade. “Sheesh. All of you think you can just walk off injuries. You aren’t even healing affines! You know that you can get infected. Try fighting then… resilium!” Jonathan muttered as he touched his staff to Artemis’ hand. Wisps of white energy surrounded the tip of the staff and Artemis pulled his hand away, examining the black crusted blood around the wound.
“Thanks Jonathan, but I’ve been through worse,” Artemis replied. Jonathan scurried over to Tobias and Dalan, checking both for any sign of injury. He sighed a sign of relief when he saw nothing serious.
“I know you say that you don’t drink, but after this is all over, I’m buying you a round of something,” Dalan said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Artemis said, walking up to Dalan. “The kid jabbed a poison tipped bolt into the guy’s leg. That was impressive and all, but lets keep our eyes on our goal. We are trying to find Murad. Isn’t that right?” Dalan looked over at Tobias, who was glaring in Artemis’ general direction.
“Well, he was the one who took him down,” Dalan said.
“No. That, my friend was all three of us,” Artemis said, turning his back, to look out at the sea. What is he looking at? Dalan thought as he looked out over the water, squinting to see silhouettes of the ships in the faint light of the early morning. Bright explosions erupted from the ships silhouettes, yet no cannon shots came ashore and Dalan was certain that he saw perhaps twice as many ships as he had before. Someone is engaging the Centran fleet. Murad? Dalan thought. He was jolted out of his reverie as Artemis turned back to him. “And besides,” Artemis continued. “I didn’t need you guys’ help to defeat that weakling,” With that, Artemis turned on his sandaled heel and began to walk down the beach, which Dalan noticed, was now deserted. Further down the shore, he could see masses of Al-Mahid soldiers surrounding the Centran ships. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Artemis asked. “You said we were going to meet Murad,”
“Murad?” Tobias asked. “Was he leading the defensive force?”
“Leading it?” Artemis asked. “Nah. Couldn’t you see those ships engaging the Centran forces at sea? They were brigs!” Dalan peered at the sea once more, yet he could still barely make out more than silhouettes of the distant ships, much less the class of each ship. Super sensory spells, huh. Dalan thought, remembering his stay in Amaurea. One of the reasons that it was such an effective hiding place was that all of the half elves who inhabited the island, as with most elves, were magick affine and they could easily detect those who wished to sneak into the city. Many made use of super sensory spells and enchantments to improve their sensory perception in day to day life. Although the Amaureans were for the most part peaceful, Dalan could see how such a skill could become very useful in combat. Especially as a student in tactics such as Artemis.
“Brigs, huh?” Dalan said. “Most likely…”
“Smuggler ships,” Tobias said, finishing his sentence. Dalan nodded. The swift wooden ships were favored by smugglers, due to their exceptional speed and maneuverability. Indeed, it was probable that Murad was aboard one of them, assuming he wasn’t leading the attack here. He does rub elbows with some of the shadier members of society. Dalan thought. As he looked up at the sea once more, the eruptions of cannon fire had stopped and the eerie yellow-orange glow of flames lit up three ships, which seemed to be creeping out toward the open sea. He could see what seemed to be six or seven smaller ships as well. The brigs. Dalan thought. five of them were breaking from their v-shaped formation, presumably to follow the gutted Centran ships. The other one proceeded toward the port. Dalan turned to Jonathan who was staring blankly at the retreating Centran ships and the brigs, who followed close behind, like sharks preparing to gore their prey.
“Why?” He asked. “Why is my country doing this?”
“You know,” Artemis sighed. “We have explained this a hundred times to a hundred different people. The Elvaan set them up,” He said, emphasizing each of the last three words.
“No… Not that,” Jonathan said, shaking his head in awe. “The priesthood. The patriarch’s knights. So many of the commoners. They all went to war. How could they be convinced to do this for no reason?” Dalan walked over to Jonathan and put his hand on his shoulder.
“It’s all about the resources, kid. One thing that Al-Mahid has that Centra doesn’t is Damask ore. It is used as an alloy in most Al-Mahidi weaponry and some weapons like Murad’s sword are made of pure Damask. It makes far superior weapons and depending on the purity, they have even been known to cleave iron and steel weapons in two, so I am sure they would want to get a hold of it,” Dalan said. “As for the people, they are either naïve enough to believe that it is their religious duty, or greedy enough to know that they will benefit by either being paid as a soldier or by the expansion of the empire. When money and power are involved, I don’t care how moral you think that you are, everyone has a price.”
“Hm,” Artemis said, slowing down so that Dalan caught up to him. “You really believe that,” His light brown eyes met Dalans’ and seemed to peer straight into his soul. “What is your price, treasure hunter?” Dalan averted his gaze, looking down at the sand.
“I’d like to think that I don’t have one. But what makes me different from any other Hume... or Elf for that matter?” He said, pursing his lips. “Well, what are we sitting around chatting for? Let’s go talk to my boss,”

. . .

Dalan looked up at the ship as one of the sailors tied it to a metal fixture at the port. The ship’s two large masts jutted out into the sky, black sails stood in stark contrast to the now purple-orange sky. The port side of the ship was lined with eight cannons. Heavily armed for a brig. Dalan thought. He looked up at the letters in black which spelled Gilles across the top of the hull. So this is the Gilles. Dalan thought, hearing tales of the legendary brig which had managed to escape countless Centran blockades. Across the sea, the sun could be seen peeking over the horizon, tinging the water with red, orange and purple hues. A ramp was thrown over the edge of the ship and two men, flanked by six muscular sailors stepped off of the ship. One of the men was a short man with dark brown skin and curly, kinky unruly black hair which puffed out around his face. A curved sheath hung at his belt, a golden hilt protruding from it. Next to him was a tall lean light skinned man no older than twenty six, Dalan guessed, with dirty blond-brown hair and light blue eyes who would have been stunningly handsome if it were not for the multitude of scars which pockmarked his face. So the Centran guy must be Zinin... Captain of the Gilles. Murad has some pretty infamous friends. Dalan thought, smiling.
“Murad!’ Dalan said, pushing his way through the crowd to the short man. A few of the Al-Mahid soldiers grabbed him, but Murad waved them off.
“It’s alright. I know this old rogue,” Murad said, smiling. “You should too. It’s Dalan Hafid! Treasure hunter extraordinaire!” Murad gestured comically, flashing a dashing grin at the crowd, who muttered as they realized who Dalan was and parted to let him and his companions through. “What are you doing here anyways?” Murad said, but stopped when he saw Artemis. “Oh… I see… So you caught him,”
“Oh, Scions of nature…” Artemis sighed. “We will have to explain this again? Look. They didn’t capture me. Well… Not exactly. Dalan was acting on his own information. We both have reliable evidence that the Elvaan are engineering this war between you and the Centrans. We came here to warn you about that.”
“What?” Murad said, almost laughing. “Is this true, Dal?” He said, turning to Dalan, who shrugged.
“Appears so. That’s why Artemis was killing the soldiers on both sides. To try to divert their attention from each other so that he could delay the war. And there was this old elf who was trying to stop it too. Name was Claude. He was the one behind the assassination of the Dey’s military advisor. A lot more effective than Artemis’ attempt if you ask me, but nonetheless, it didn’t work either,” Dalan said. Artemis began to protest, but decided it would be better to say nothing.
“Wait a minute.” Zinin said, his voice almost as smooth and dismissive as Murad’s. “If the Elvaan engineered this war, then they must have done a horrible job. The most important part of the Centran invasion would have been the sea landing. They would have certainly attacked from the seaport here, not the land front.”
“You are assuming that the Elvaan have seafaring vessels. Enough to make up a battalion at that,” Dalan said. “Zinin Garvey, right? You have traveled the seas all around Centra and Al-Mahid. Have you ever noticed any Elvaan ships?”
“None at all, but I have not been near their continent. Aurensvale, I’ve heard it called. They don’t like outsiders, so I tend to steer clear. No telling what kinds of fleet they might have up there.”
“Well, I lived in Amaurea for a while,” Dalan replied. “Definitely did not hear them talk about any Elvaan fleet. The occasional piece of gossip from Aurensvale makes it to Amaurea, since some Elvaan live there, but work on the Aurensvale mainland. This doesn’t mean that they don’t have a fleet, but if they don’t, they will attack from the land front. Who is defending the Centra-Akhmet border anyways?”
“Kussa is leading the forces at the border. Naka is leading the archers unit,” Murad replied. “Rey Lucas Blum also agreed to help,” Murad sighed. “Its times like this that I wish the porter’s guild wasn’t neutral… Then we could just port into Aurensvale and make them tell us what is going on.”
“Lucas?” Tobias asked. “Al Rey? The king of the Roma? Why is he fighting like us? The Roma—we need him to watch out for us. There are few enough of us as it is!”
“I think that is what he is trying to do,” Murad replied. “Your people have wandered for almost a century after they left the Arauncan Continent. They are just settling down in our country, you know. If the Centrans take over, no telling what will happen to them. They might have to find another home. Besides, they still have Reya Arroyo, the other Rey, to watch out for them. We really don’t know what will happen if the Centrans win. That is precisely why we, your Rey included, have to prevent this from happening,” Murad appraised Tobias, nodding. “So how was the job?”
“Pretty good,” Tobias said shrugging.
“psh. 'Pretty good',” Dalan said, waving his hand. “He prevented Artemis from being killed and he took down Bah’rati,”
“I guess you are almost good enough to earn your keep with the border mercenaries,” Murad said, smiling.
“Almost?” Tobias said in mock disbelief. “Try taking down Guilder Bah’rati before you say that,”
“You killed him?” Murad said incredulously.
“No, just incapacitated him. Poison,” Tobias shrugged. “He should recover in a few hours.”
Why were you fighting Bah’rati anyways?” Murad asked. Artemis looked over at him sheepishly.
“Let’s just say that he wants revenge for something I did over ten years ago,” Artemis replied. Murad’s eyes widened in amazement.
“So you were the one who--?” He was cut off by Artemis.
“You know, that is something I would prefer not to talk about around the present company, but yes.” Artemis said. “I would have thought that he would have told you who I was before I was guilder,”
“No. No, he didn’t,” Murad stammered, looking at Artemis with newfound respect. “But our relationship is strictly business. We don’t exactly go drinking. Even if we did, I would imagine that he would be busy scanning the room for bounties.”
“Well, we learn new things every day,” Artemis said, turning to Zinin. “So what is the plan for securing this place? Landing here at Port Saif is integral to the Centran invasion, so they will probably make another attempt.”
“Hah,” Zinin replied. “Let them try. I know at least ten crews of smugglers and pirates here who won’t have it. Five of them are on the sea chasing that sorry attack force back where it came from. Five are lying in wait in a cove nearby. That’s why Murad wasn’t leading the attack. I took him to the cove west of here so he could tell some of the other crews about the invasion. Brought some of his men with him so that he could help with the land front while we took care of things here.” Zinin turned and nodded to a crowd of thirty people, mostly men with an occasional woman, lounging around on the deck of the ship.
“So, what do you plan to do with our information?” Dalan asked Murad.
“There is no change in plans really,” Murad said. “My men and I were planning to head inland to Akhmet City to support our troops there anyways. I guess this just makes it more urgent to have a few reinforcements, no matter how small in number. Also, I’m going to make sure Bah’rati is alright. Like him or not, he is an asset on the battlefield. Are you guys going with us?”
“Definitely,” Tobias said.
“The kid wants to save his parents. They are stuck in prison… captured members of the fraternary,” Dalan replied. “I’m going with him,”
“What?” Tobias replied. “You are going to help?”
“Yeah. Don’t act so surprised. I might change my mind,” Dalan said. Artemis looked at Tobias, his lips pursed.
“So, we are going to rescue a couple of inmates from prison, fight off the Centran army and hope there is no Elvaan invasion. I hope whatever gods you guys believe in exist, because there is no chance in damnation that we are pulling this without the help of something supernatural,” Artemis said.
“We have Archos on our side,” Jonathan said. “What my country is doing just isn’t right. I will pray that we can help your parents.”
“Thanks,” Tobias said, nodding to Jonathan.
“Yeah. Hope someone exists too,” Dalan said, looking off into the distance. but the only one who I can be certain of to look out for me is myself Dalan thought. “Murad. Could you wait a little while before you leave? I have to go see if an old friend is safe and out of harm's way,”
“Sure. We’ll be here until midday. A little last minute business to take care of?” Murad replied.
“Yeah,” Dalan said. “Someone who means a lot to me. I’m going to tell her goodbye, just in case I don’t come back.” Dalan turned his back and began to trudge slowly down the shoreline. He stopped and turned back to Murad. “You know. That is my greatest fear. Not dying, but going off to die without those who I love knowing that I may not return,”

. . .

“I see. So you intend to go with him?” Nana said, studying the brown steaming liquid in her tea mug. Dalan sat across the bare wooden table, his eyes fiery with determination, meeting the older lady’s gaze.
“I don’t have a choice really. I have to do my part to protect us all. I don’t have time to explain, Nana, but if this war goes on for too long… if this battle goes on for too long. Something terrible will happen. I don’t want you to be caught in the middle of it,” Nana laughed and Dalan looked at her quizzically. Why are you laughing? He thought. Nana sighed and then put her mug down on the table.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve lived through disputes between the many races in Al-Mahid. I was here when the Jazair pressed the border dispute at the Last Stand. When it is time for me to go, I will pass on. You should be more worried about yourself,” Nana said, appraising Dalan with a level gaze. “You are going to Akhmet because you think that you can stop a war. I don’t care how powerful they are, no mortal could hope to do such a thing alone. Dalan, I know that you never had the kind of life you wanted growing up. You know how it feels to lose and that, I think, is what drives you to make sure that others don’t feel the same pain, but remember. One drop of water is swallowed up by the desert, but many drops of water can make an oasis blossom in the middle of the dry sands,”
“You are telling me to trust those close to me to help or something like that?” Dalan said, chuckling. “That sounds like something out of an old book of aphorisms. Or several old books for that matter. All of those old sages write the same things,”
“Yes, it may have been said many times by many wise men and women. But doesn’t that at least vouch for its validity?” Nana asked.
“Perhaps,” Dalan said, standing up. “Well, I should get going. Murad and the others are waiting for me. I hope that I will come back after this is all over. Maybe we can talk about something a little more pleasant over tea,”
“You will come back. I know you don’t believe in Sharah, but at least have some faith in yourself. I will be here waiting for you. I am an old woman, but if Sharah comes to take me, I’ll tell him to wait. I wouldn’t miss the return of Dalan Hafid for anything. Even the afterlife.” Nana said, laughing. Dalan stepped forward and caught the woman in a tight embrace.
“Keep a pot of tea going for me. In case I do come back, you know?” Dalan said.
“I will every day, my boy,” Nana said, tears streaming down her face. “Every day,”

Chapter 5: An Old Friend

Previously in Chapter 4: After arriving in the Centran Capital, Dalan and Tobias searched the city for Artemis. They eventually spotted their target in the Drowsy Mora pub, but were dismayed when a few members of the Centran Chivalry entered the pub with the idea of apprehending Loross'i as well. Artemis fought off the knights, but a mysterious Elf appeared on the scene with two mysterious weapons and would have killed Artemis if it weren't for Tobias' intervention. Upon learning that Artemis was not his target, the Elf, who refers to himself as a race of elves called the 'Greykein', introduced himself as Claude Colton and offered his room at a nearby inn as a place for Tobias to recover from a wound inflicted on him by one of Claude's 'fire-weapons'. Artemis, Dalan and Tobias travel to the inn and Claude returns with a young healing magick affine and member of the order of Archos named Jonathan, who had agreed to treat Tobias' wound. After Tobias' wound was treated, Artemis, Dalan and Claude discussed the looming war between Centra and Al-Mahid and unfortunately, all of their suspicions are confirmed: The war was a plan by the Elvaan to distract and weaken the most powerful Hume nations to facilitate an invasion of Hume lands. Members of the Chivalry locate Claude's inn room and chase the group, including Jonathan down, hoping to imprison them and use them as justification for Centra to go to war with Al-Mahid. However, with the help of a mysterious acquaintance Artemis' past named Isfahan, the group flees the city, searching for a way to quell the fires of war before it is too late.

--

Triumste'dar
Nar Selen'tar ner Selen'sej
Trium'sequir'delin ster k'trium
Ket Trium'elvaan E!

Translation from Elvaan:
The state's purpose is to serve the people
It shall conduct no war of conquest or personal aim
The government which decides to abide by such rules is a wise one.
Let us work to make the state of the Elvaan into such a nation!

-Statement made at the beginning of every meeting of the Elvaan Oligarchs

--

“So, everything is working well?” A man in shining silver armor said, looking down at a short, skinny pale young man wearing circular wire rimmed glasses which outlined his watery blue eyes.
“Yes. It should be fully operational now. We don't know how long it will take to move from here to Akhmet though. It could take hours, maybe days for all we know. After all, a test trial would have been too risky.” The man said, looking up at the tall square shouldered knight, who looked back at the man with focused dark green eyes.
“Would have risked showing our cards. Port Izaria is far too close to the border to take risks like that.”
“Exactly. It is very advantageous that we found it here. I'm sure it is such a relic to whoever left it here and yet, so useful for us. It has to be at least a few hundred years old. I wonder whose it was and what their civilization's technology is like now,” The skinny man said, shambling alongside the armored knight, his head barely higher than the railing on the narrow marble stone bridge, which was raised far above the waters below. Port Izaria was a city built upon an island, if one could even call it that. More realistically, it was a vast flat topped stone protruding from the water. At the top of it, a small, yet bustling town lay and on the sloping sides of the island, ships sailed in and out of the small docks that surrounded the landmass. The skinny man looked up at the knight nervously. “Um...”
“Yes?” The knight responded.
“Are you sure you and your men want to do this? I know you are considered a legend by most of Centra, Sir Aramis, but this is dangerous. If you do this, you may not return! Our country needs heroes like you. It is true that I will be the one who operates it, but I am not an important public figure either,” the man squeaked in his shrill voice. “If you die, then Centra loses hope!” The knight laughed. Far below them, the calm sound gurgling of waves lapping against the island could be heard. The knight closed his eyes and savored the calming sound.
“I would never forgive myself if I didn't contribute to the war efforts. You are a scientist. Do what you do and we soldiers will do what we do. I'm sure that my brother, guilder Alex Aramis will be fighting as well. I can't risk the possibility that I am not doing all that I can to keep him alive. The most important thing is, once we mobilize this weapon, not even the Akhmet will stand a chance. Even though their army greatly outnumbers ours. As soon as the plan is executed, they will either surrender their lands to us, or they shall be annihilated.

. . .

Dalan crashed to the ground, his hands hitting smooth, cold stone as he rolled onto the ground. Where am I? He thought as he stood up, looking around. Tall buildings made of grey and purple stones rose up all around him. He saw a building across the street that he recognized Artemis' School of Essential Magicks from his last visit to the city of Gabradia. Although he hadn't been back in a couple of years, the city would still hold memories for him, many of them unpleasant. Gil’s old apartment should be around here somewhere. He thought as he looked curiously up at the residence buildings. Their similarity prevented him from pinpointing Gil's old apartment, but looking at the light emanating from a few of the windows, he could still picture the quaint room which was warmed by the cast iron stove. The sky was clear, standing in stark contrast to the bright full moon, but to the east, Dalan could see heavy black rain clouds rising up over the horizon like a grey tidal wave, punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning. Well, those knights would certainly have trouble setting up a search party in that. He thought as he stood up slowly, brushing the dust off of his pants. He turned around and saw Claude standing up, holding his side and wincing in pain. As Jonathan walked up to the old elf, he scowled.
“What was that supposed to be, my young lad?” He said, his voice harsh.
“What?” Jonathan asked.
“Porting an old man like me way up there. We had to be at least one Hume's height above the ground when we came out of that thing! My back will be hurting for the next week, I'm sure,”
“Sorry,” Jonathan said, looking down sheepishly.
“At least we came out of that alive,” Tobias said walking to the group with Artemis not far behind. “Someone almost got us killed,”
“Look,” Artemis said. “What do you think would have happened to us if they had apprehended us? They would have killed the people who they didn't need and would have used the rest of you to justify this damned war that they are so encouraged to wage. All of us are here to stop the war, right?” Jonathan looked at Artemis, an expression of both confusion and anger on his face.
“I don't really know what is going on,” Tobias said. “Why are you trying to stop the war? I know why Dalan is here, but Artemis and... What is your name anyways?”
“Claude,” Claude replied. “And it looks like both your country and Centra are being set up by the Elvaan. Once your two countries are busy with each other, they will send in an invasion force to take both out,”
“What!?” Tobias shouted.
“Remember I said I was here to help Artemis?” Dalan cut in. “Back in the pub. I knew the kid's father. He told me about the leader of the Elvaan country's plans for war. Of course, didn't think I'd actually get a chance to hunt down Artemis here,” Tobias' eyes widened in realization. "My question is... who was that guy in the cloak back in Centra?"
“Excuse me, but may I ask where we are?” Claude said, opening his messenger bag and checking the contents. Come to think of it, what does he have in there? Dalan thought, glancing over at Claude, who let out a sigh of relief and closed the bag once more.
“Gabradia.” Artemis said. “My home is nearby, but I'm sure that after that price was put on my head, there are bounty hunters just waiting for me to return,”
“I say we go to Gil's place,” Dalan said, turning to Artemis.
“Who is Gil?” Claude asked, but Artemis cut in.
“You are a regular comedian.” Artemis paused, looking at Dalan in disbelief. “Wait, you are serious, aren't you? If this is an attempt to turn me in, it is a lame one.”
“Trust me,” Dalan said. “Or not. You can leave if you wish. We really don't need you along,”
“I never said I wasn't going,” Artemis replied. “But if you, your friend or Gil even looks at me funny, I'll kill them.” Dalan looked at Tobias sheepishly. Claude shrugged. “I suppose none of you know where she lives.” Artemis sighed. “What are you waiting for? Lets go.”

. . .

Dalan looked up at the tall two story stone building with unruly wood shingles. The stones of which the building was composed were mismatched and somewhat shabby, stuck together by often excessive portions of plaster. It was still very large, considering that real estate in Gabradia was exceedingly expensive, despite the predominantly poor population. Most families lived in small crowded one room apartments. Only the rich and privileged lived with their buildings against the city walls, a tradition dating even before Centran occupation to when Gabradia was a slave colony for the Elvaan. Although this was definitely a step down from her quarters in Port Albert, it was definitely an impressive dwelling for a place like Gabradia. A small patio sat at the front of her house, a rocking chair and a table with a pitcher of water sitting to the left of the doorway. Dalan walked up to the rough wooden door and rapped on it twice swiftly. He saw a small light moving slowly through the house through one of the windows. The door opened and a short Sung girl with long jet black hair who could not have been more than fifteen answered the door, holding a lantern in one hand, a small thin blade in the other.
“If you are going to tell me that you are Guilder Regalia, save your breath,” Artemis said, walking up to the door. The girl raised her blade and stepped back into a fighting stance. Artemis took a step back “Whoa, there Remember me? It's Guilder Loross'i,”
“Guilder Loross'i?” She said, her dark eyes widening in amazement, then narrowing in anger. “So I see they caught you. The rogue magician. You were the one responsible for the killings, weren't you?” She said.
“Yep, that was me,” Artemis replied casually. “I tried to make their deaths as quick and painless as possible. Now get Gil will ya? My punishment awaits,” The young girl shot one last glare at Artemis and then disappeared, closing the door. After a short wait, Gil opened it.
“Dalan!” She said in surprise.
“Good to see you again Gil,” He said, stepping forward to embrace Gil in a tight hug. He stepped back and smiled. “I can't believe Murad made me sit through one of your council meetings. Its about as fun as watching grass grow,” Gil sighed.
“It has to be done, you know. I'm worse than you, believe it or not. I'd rather be out doing anything else, but both the mercantile association and the blacksmiths' guild need me.” Gil replied.
“Hah, I know you, Gil. You like doing this stuff, because you think that no one else would do it as well as you if you quit,” Dalan said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Is that so?” Gil laughed.
“Yeah,” Dalan growled.
“Anyways, I see you brought Loross'i in,” Gil walked out through the door, looking the half-elf guilder right in the eyes. Artemis' light brown eyes betrayed no sign of fear or anger.
“Kind of,” Dalan said, looking at Loross'i.
“Lo, Gil. And why the little Sung killing machine? I really don't appreciate our welcoming party,” Artemis quipped. Dalan rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“Getting captured hasn’t shut your mouth it seems,” Gil replied. “It’s as loud as ever.”
“Well, I wasn't really captured.” Artemis replied. Gil's eyebrows raised in surprise. “The fact of the matter is, we barely made it out of Centra alive. Hate to say it, but we need your help,”

. . .

“So you helped Loross'i escape?” Gil said incredulously, surveying her company from a large cushioned cream colored chair in her living room. Dalan had pulled a chair away from a desk sitting near a window and sat down in it. Tobias sat in an easy chair nearby while Claude and Jonathan remained standing. Artemis had made himself comfortable on a burgundy leather couch which sat not far from Dalan, his feet were propped up on the arm of the couch, despite Gil’s numerous dirty looks. The room was lit by wall lanterns which shone with the bright yellow glow of pyrelights, a magical light source created by a few enterprising magicians in Gabradia. “I don't believe this. Why did you come here of all places if you weren't going to turn him in? And who are all of you? I don't recognize anyone here except for Dalan and Loross'i!”
“I'm Taylor Tobias,” Tobias said, shrugging. “Everyone just calls me Tobias though. We never used first names in the Fraternary. Guess I just got used to it. I work with Dalan for the Border Mercenaries,”
“A member of the Fraternary, huh?” Gil said, turning to Tobias and nodding her approval.
“I'm Jonathan Tilminster,” Jonathan said quietly, studying the carpet at his feet.
“He helped us out. We got into a scrap and Claude here used one of those fire weapons to shoot Tobias. He healed him,” Dalan clarified.
“They are called guns. This kind in particular is called a revolver,” Claude clarified as walked up to Gil, lazily twirling one of his guns in his hand, then holstering it. He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and gave it a light kiss. “I'm Claude Colton. Good to make your acquaintance, dear,” Gil blushed, managing to look both flattered and a bit cross. She managed a half hearted glare at Claude, who just smiled. Claude looked over at Dalan and nodded reassuringly. “Don't worry, Hume child. My dear wife back home would be very incensed if she thought I was in Centra flirting with beautiful women like Gil.”
“I don’t know why you are telling me that. Tell her,” Dalan said. Claude winked and turned back to Gil.
“Just a gesture of friendship, my dear,” Gil nodded.
“Y-yes. Just caught me a little off guard,” She smiled. “You are Elvaan? What are you doing here?”
“No. I'm greykein. You can tell us from the Elvaan by the grey splotches on our face, if you were wondering. We were cast out of the Elvaan city of Luz a thousand years ago because we had a sort of physical defect that we call a 'mutation' that prevented us from using magicks. The Elvaan claimed at that time that we had ‘turned away from nature’ and kicked every ‘greykein’ as they called us, out of the city as soon as they came of age. Later, it was discovered that our lack of magical powers was due to a mutation, but the Elvaan aren’t the type to apologize for their foolishness. But you didn't ask for an Elfish history lesson. As for my goals in Hume territory, they are the same thing as Artemis' actually. And sorry about the whole military advisor assassination thing. That was me, not Artemis,” Gil looked at Claude incredulously.
“What exactly are you two trying to do? And what about you, Dalan? Are you with them!?” Gil managed.
“Yes. It seems that we have all been fooled. The Elvaan are playing Centra and Al-Mahid against each other. If the two of them go to war, I fear that an Elvaan assault force will not be far behind.” Dalan said, his expression gloomy. Gil stared first at Dalan, then at Artemis, utterly stunned.
“What do you want me to do about it?” Gil stuttered. Gil is shaken? That is a new one. Dalan thought. Under the circumstances, however, he considered it a very acceptable response. A common response from everyone who hears the news, really.
“Pull some strings, stop this war before it even starts. Easy as shabacake,” Artemis laughed, his voice souring. Gil looked Artemis straight in the eyes, her gaze unwavering.
“I wish I could do that. The Centran forces began their march midday yesterday. They have probably already reached the Al-Mahidi border. It has already begun.” No… Dalan thought, slamming his fist on the desk nearby.
“Hmm,” Gil said thoughtfully, regaining her composure. “There may be a way. Perhaps I can talk to Guilder Aramis about this.”
“Another guilder, huh?” Claude said thoughtfully.
“Who is this ‘Guilder Aramis’?” Tobias asked.
“Alex Aramis, younger brother of the legendary knight Sir Aramis.” Gil replied. “Alex is an incredible self taught swordsman who lives in Port Izaria. He runs the biggest swordfighting school in all of the Centran continent. Most of the knights in the Chivalry are from his school. His style pretty much sets the standard for swordfighting technique.”
“And? What does he have to do with stopping the invasion?” Tobias replied.
“Well, he is certainly one of the more neutral guilders. We have supported each other on lots of issues in the past. I’m sure he’d hear me out no matter how ridiculous the idea of an invasion sounded. Assuming he hasn't left to fight already, I will head to Port Izaria to talk to him tomorrow,” Gil said.
“So, I take it you aren’t going to Al-Mahid?” Dalan asked. Gil looked at him and raised her eyebrows.
“And you are? What in Archos’ name would you achieve by doing that? You would probably get killed before you could say "neutral". Not to mention that if you guys are right, when the Elvaan show up, things won’t be pretty at all.”
“I won’t let my home come under attack. I have some old friends there. I can’t bear the thought of losing them just like…” Dalan’s voice trailed off.
“My parents are in prison there.” Tobias cut in. “The Dey learned that they were members of the Fraternary of Sophia. I can’t leave them there. If the Elvaan sweep through, they will be locked up and helpless,” Gil looked from Tobias to Dalan and sighed.
“You really are serious aren’t you? You are willing to risk your life on principle to go back and ‘save’ your friends from an entire army.”
“I agree with the young lady. There is not much that such a small group can do against two warring armies,” Claude said, standing up and walking over to a crystal bottle filled with an amber colored liquid which sat on a small side table. “Firescotch?” Gil nodded.
“Help yourself. Does anyone else want something to drink or eat? It looks like you will be staying the night before you head off to Al-Mahid tomorrow, so make yourselves comfortable.” Once again, Gil fixed Artemis, who was still reclined on the leather couch, with a piercing glare, Artemis simply shrugged.
“You forget that Jonathan can port. They have no time to spare if they want to get to Al-Mahid, you know. It would be a sad thing indeed if they showed up too late to protect those who they love. Jonathan could port you as well, Gil, but I doubt it would do you any more good to get to Aramis now than it would to see him in the morning,” A voice said from the entryway. Claude stopped mid-pour and reached for one of his revolvers with his free hand. Gil was immediately on her feet, her sword drawn.
“Who are you? How did you get in here? Show yourself!” She shouted. The young Sung girl from before rushed down the stairs, past the doorway of the living room and into the entryway. There was a shrill squeak down the hall. Gil and Dalan rushed out into the hallway to see the girl floating in midair, spinning slowly and slashing her sword wildly at a person in a green cloak who stood in front of her.
“Isfahan!” Artemis shouted again in surprise. Gil stepped forward with her sword, but Artemis stepped in front of her. Tobias, Claude and Jonathan had rushed around the corner and stood behind Gil, Artemis and Dalan. Tobias held his knife in his hand and Claude had a revolver pointed at the intruder’s head. “Don’t attack him. It wouldn’t be pleasant, I’d imagine. For you that is,” Artemis clarified.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t hurt any of them. I’m just here to say that you should hurry if you wish to go to Al-Mahid.” Isfahan said. He stepped forward into the light, raising a wrinkled calloused dark brown hand to pull back the hood of his leaf green cloak. As the hood fell from his head, the first features that Dalan noticed were his bright green eyes, which surveyed the room calmly from under bushy arched eyebrows. There was a pink scar which ran down from above his right eyebrow, to his cheek, standing in stark contrast to his dark, almost black brown skin. His hair was as white as ivory and outlined his face, coming to a small goatee at his chin. At his belt, he wore a black leather sheath with the hilt of what looked to be either a large knife or a small sword protruding from it. He waved his hand and the young Sung girl was lowered softly onto her feet. She held her sword in front of her, feet poised in a defensive stance.
“Mai, stand down,” Gil said softly. The girl stepped back reluctantly. “Loross’i, you know him?”
“Yeah. An old friend,” Artemis said, glancing at the battle worn man. “If he is here, he probably has a reason. Whenever I see this guy, something bad is always happening,”
“This time is no different,” Isfahan replied. “The war between Al-Mahid and Centra has begun, as the young lady said. If you wish to do something to stop it, now is the time,”
“Look,” Artemis said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen you in battle. Unlike this little ragtag group, you could actually do something about all of this. Why are you coming here to tell us when you could go and try to stop the war yourself before the Elvaan forces even become a problem?”
“This battle is not mine and to tell the truth, I am not sure how much I could even do. These are armies, large ones. Were I to intervene alone, I do not think I would be able to stop them. I just thought that perhaps you would want to know about this. I have a bad feeling that if I were to intervene, something terrible should happen. I am not sure that I should be telling you to go either, but perhaps it is for the better.”
“Still don’t remember who you are or how you got that scar? Don’t tell me you are senile. Although with all of the obscure riddles and parables you usually talk in, I would certainly believe it. You work on intuition too much old man. It’s better if you have everything planned out to the letter,” Artemis said, running his hand through his hair.
“Plans in the absence of information are futile, Artemis. I do remember who I am. It is just... I am missing some memories,”
“Yeah, the past one thousand years worth,” Artemis sighed, shaking his head.
“No. I have been trying to put together the pieces for the past two hundred or so. It is the eight hundred before that that are giving me trouble.”
“Forgetting the past thousand years?” Gil said skeptically. “I must have missed the punchline, because this little dialogue isn't funny. The only reason I'm not going to bring you in is the fact that you have Dalan's confidence, Artemis. Your joking around isn't helping,”
“Hey, why are you accusing me of sarcastic humor?” Artemis said, gesturing theatrically, a look of mock offense crossing his face. “The man seems to believe that he has actually been around for that long. Either he is telling the truth or he is crazy, because if there is one thing I have learned from being around this guy, it is that Isfahan is immune to humor. Speaking of Isfahan, he is probably another reason you aren't bringing me in. Even if you did try,” Isfahan looked at Artemis and then to Gil, and from the exasperated expression on his face, Dalan could imagine him saying 'this isn't my battle either'.
“Wait. Who are you? You spoke to me. You were in my dreams.” Dalan said, looking a little confused.
“I have been there for as long as I can remember. Come to think of it, I have been here for as long as I can remember as well,” Isfahan said, a curious smile crossing his face.
“See what I mean about talking in riddles?” Artemis said.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Tobias interjected. “But, how are we going to get back to Al-Mahid. Do you know how to port?”
“As I said before, that is a skill that I do not possess. However, your friend Jonathan can do quite well,” Isfahan responded.
“But I told you, sir,” Jonathan said. “I can only port to Gabradia and Centra City. I have never seen any of Ala-Mahid,”
“Don’t worry about seeing,” Isfahan said, stepping forward and laying a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “I will see for you. Close your eyes,” Jonathan closed his eyes and the whole room fell quiet as his brows furrowed in concentration. Jonathan staggered back, his eyes still closed.
“There,” Isfahan said, his eyes closed as well.
“...They are all... In pain,” Jonathan stammered.
“This is what I have to feel every day. I don't know why I can, but it is like a curse. I feel it, yet I can do nothing to stop it,” Isfahan sighed. “Somewhere in this world, always the same thing. And the pain is caused by the very people who seek to avoid such suffering.” He shook his head, although his eyes were still closed. “That is where you wish to go. Perhaps you can stop this. Open a port now, child,” Isfahan said. Jonathan and Isfahan's bodies glowed with an ethereal white light and a portal erupted from the ground in the midst of the company crowded in the narrow entryway.
“Well, I suppose that this is where we part,” Claude said, stepping to the side and resting against the wall.”
“What? You aren't going, old kauda?” Artemis said.
“I fear that it is too late for that. I would be of little help on the battlefield alone. A drop in the bucket so to speak. I will find lodging overnight and get a portal to Port Albert in the morning. My ship is docked there. I would ask Isfahan to port me, but I have a few things to talk to Gil about,”
“Your ship?” Tobias asked.
“Yes. Just an old pleasure liner that I had patched up. Fixing things is one of my hobbies,” Claude replied. Pretty expensive hobby. Dalan thought. Wonder where this old man gets all of his money from. “Anyways, once I get back, I will talk to some friends. I am sure that there is a way that I can still be of service,”
“You are welcome to stay the night in the guest room. Most of the inns are probably closed at this time of night and the streets of Gabradia aren't the safest places to take a nap,” Gil replied.
“If you wouldn't mind, milady, I might take you up on that offer,” Claude said thoughtfully.
“You are going with us, Artemis?” Dalan asked, turning to look at the slender young man.
“Yeah.” He replied. “I was supposed to prevent this from happening. The least I can do now is help you stop it in its tracks before the Elvaan come rolling through,” Dalan turned to Tobias and saw that he had his hand on his forehead and was looking slightly dismayed.
“He is coming with us?” Tobias said.
“Only if he promises to keep his mouth shut,” Dalan whispered.
“Look, I wouldn't be traveling with you guys if I didn't have a responsibility to clean up this merde, so lets just get out of here before I change my mind.” Artemis said, crossing his arms.
“I wish you would all calm down. We all have the same goal, right? We should be working together,” Jonathan said, stepping between Artemis and Dalan.
“We?” The two men almost shouted.
“You are coming along?” Dalan said incredulously.
“Well, I can't go back to the abbey now. Not until tomorrow. Even then, I will probably be excommunicated or imprisoned for helping you guys. I don't exactly have that many places to go,” Jonathan stated.
“Well, you are welcome to come with us. I can't say that you will make it out alive,” Dalan said.
“Lord Archos is watching over me,” Jonathan mused. “Even if I die, my soul will live on,”
“If that helps you to sleep better at night,” Dalan said, shrugging. “Gil, thanks for the hospitality. Looks like we are off to Akhmet.”
“Dalan...” Gil said, pausing. “Be careful,”
“Hey,” Dalan said, walking to the port. “You've heard the legends. They say I have nine lives. Something as small as a war hasn't stopped me before,” He turned around and flashed Gil a lopsided grin, winked and disappeared into the portal in a flash of light.

Chapter 4: Renegades

Previously in Chapter 3: The Dey's military advisor, an elf named K'tharh was assassinated in the middle of the night by a stranger with powerful weapons utilizing unheard of projectile technologies. In response to this, the Dey put a price on his head and hastened to prepare the war effort against the Centrans, believing this assassination was the first step of the Centran invasion. Dalan attended a meeting of the council of the guilds as Murad's bodyguard, where the looming threat of war was discussed. Not only was K'tharh assassinated, but soldiers from both countries who patrolled the border were found dead near their posts with wounds that indicated that the culprit had used magicks. Guilder Loross'i, the young half-elf headmaster of the Essential School of magicks in Gabradia had been missing for some time and was the prime suspect for these mysterious killings. Dalan returns to Akhmet city, preparing to depart with Tobias to Centra. Their goal: To apprehend Artemis Loross'i.


And the dark lord Telos will descend upon the land, his minions, death and chaos at his left and right hands. His eyes shalt shine with an unnatural light as though aflame. He shalt bring many to his cause and throughout the era to come, war, famine and destruction shall sweep the land. And then the Lord Archos shall descend from the heavens in the flesh. He and the Chosen One, one descended from and trained by the people of the true way, shall prepareth an army and destroy Telos and his followers and they shall be cast into the netherworld where eternal agony shall be their payment.

Excerpt from the Book of Divine Foresight, a document of the Church of Archos

--

A light mist of rain spattered on the sandy brick road, making a pattering noise as it intermingled with the grainy sand, forming a brown, soft muddy film over the road. The sky was almost pitch black, with only a small sliver of moonlight filtering through the thick clouds.
“Baba, wait up!” A young Mora child shouted, running to catch up with a tall dark skinned man holding a petite woman in his right arm. The woman had brown eyes and neck length black hair and a short green and red flowered dress. Her clothing certainly indicated that she came from the city, since many women from outside the city covered themselves from head to toe in accordance with the commandments of Sharah, the deity that they worshiped. She had the gait of an independent woman and it was highly likely that she indeed was one, since the majority of men in Al-Mahid would consider a woman revealing more than her face in public immodest.
“If you don't hurry up, my son, we'll leave you behind.” The tall man said, smiling. “We need to get back to the inn before it closes so we can have a nice cozy place to spend the night before heading back to the village,”
“But I want to play in the rain,” The child protested, looking up at his father, his lips pursed. The woman smiled softly at the child.
“In the middle of the night, dear? You'll get sick!” The woman said, turning to the man. “Our little Dal never gets tired. Most parents would be carrying their kids back home to put them to sleep after dinner. Ours wants to go out and play in the rain!”
“He'll either grow up to be a happy young man or a hyperactive one, won't you, little Dal?” The man said, pulling Dalan's ear. Suddenly the man started. The young child looked up to see three men, walking directly onto the street in front of them to block their path.
“What do you want?” Dalan's father asked, his voice hardening. One of the three men stepped forward.
“You are Agba Hafid and Anna Hafid.” The tall man nodded reluctantly. The man who was standing in front continued. “For supporting the loyalist rebellion for the former Dey Amir Haidar and participating in conspiracy to obstruct the ascension of your new Dey, the godly Jaffar Pasha, you shall be punished with execution. The young Dalan looked up at the man, confused. Agba stepped forward now, standing barely half a meter from the foremost of the three men who were bedecked in armor.
“Dey Jaffar seized power through assassination, bribery and trickery. I serve the true Dey. How can you call yourselves members of the royal guard when you can't even tell who has the right to direct this blessed nation?”
“I suggest you watch your mouth, traitor. You don't have to be the only one who dies,” The man said, pointedly looking behind Agba and Anna at Dalan. “In fact, seize the kid. Lets teach him and his father what happens when you are disloyal to your country,” The man said, signaling to the two men on either side of him, who advanced toward Dalan.
“Over my dead body,” Agba said, stepping in front of the two men and drawing a pocket knife.
“Agba, no!” his wife cried out, but he had already lodged the knife into the man's throat. A bolt of lightning flashed somewhere in the distance, briefly illuminating the stream of crimson blood that ran down Agba's hand. The other guard started in surprise, turned and plunged his sword through Agba's stomach, the young Dalan could see the blade protruding from his father's back.
“r...run... my boy,” Agba wheezed. The royal guard withdrew his blade from Agba's stomach, blood spraying out, staining Agba's shirt and pants, running onto the ground and mixing with water to form red swirls in a brown mud puddle.
“No!” Anna screamed and ran at the man, who promptly slashed at her abdomen with his blade. Anna slouched onto her knees, sobbing in pain.
“Silence, woman!” The man shouted. “You are just as much of a traitor as your husband. Looks like you and your little kid will be joining him soon,”
“Ma!” Dalan shouted, eyes wide, his face contorted in an expression that could only be brought about by pure horror.
“Run Dalan!” His mother yelled maniacally, her voice cracking.
“But ma!” Dalan said, tears and raindrops streaming down his face.
“Run! Now!” She shouted. the man walked up to her and delivered a backhand to her face which knocked her face first onto the muddy street. The man walked up and withdrew his sword and plunged it through Anna's stomach, impaling her. She spasmed, then lay motionless on the floor. The young Dalan turned and ran as fast as his feet would take him. The rhythmic slap of his shoes sloshing through the mud echoed in his ears, dirty specks of water flying up into his face
Poor young hume child. Dalan ran harder, not daring to look back, down the back alleyways of Akhmet city, through deserted market squares, rain and tears blurring his vision. You carry a burden that I would wish upon no one. But I fear that things may become worse for all of us unless you are willing take upon yourself one far worse. The young Dalan cried aloud.
“Ma Anna! Baba Agba!” His voice was hoarse and wracked with sobs as he sprinted down the back streets of the city. Are you willing to take this burden upon yourself for eternity? Or is it too much? Will it break you? If you are not ready, much more than your happiness is at stake. Dalan. Your childhood is over. Wake up... Wake up... The city, the rain and the image of the young child faded to darkness and the sound of Dalan's pounding feet and the rain were replaced by an eerie silence. In the darkness a figure in a green, hooded cloak, appeared illuminated by an ethereal light. His skin was as dark as that of a Jazair, yet his piercing green eyes were clearly visible, as if illuminated, despite the shadow that the cloak cast across most of his face. Wake up, Dalan.

. . .

“Wake up Dalan!” Dalan opened his eyes and looked up at a young man with windswept black hair wearing glasses who had a small brown mesh bag in his hand and a larger one over his back, the sleeve of a shirt poking out of the top of the bag. He stood up, dusting the sand off of his pants which had collected from him sitting propped up against the tan canvas of a vendor's tent in the sand at the roadside.
“Baba... Ma...” Dalan mumbled, as he wiped his eyes. His hand came away wet and he let out bitter chuckle. It was midday in the city and crowds of people went about their business along the streets.
“What did you say?” the young man asked. “Are you alright?”
“Nothing important, Tobias. I'm fine. Are you ready to go?” Dalan responded, looking down the street to where the local porter usually did her business. He spotted the Elvaan female in white robes talking to four travelers. Tobias looked concerned, but kept quiet.
“Yeah. Why did you choose me for this mission anyways?” He asked, his lively brown eyes beaming with anticipation.
“Because, you need some field experience,” Dalan said, picking up a threadbare sack which sat in the sand next to him and slinging it over his back, careful not to dislodge his crossbow from its position. “This is one elf and no matter how powerful he is, a job like this is better than getting your first bit of experience in a war,”
“You should know, I guess,” Tobias replied.
“Lets go,” Dalan said as he started to walk in the soft sand beside the street, approaching the porter.
“Two people, to the Centran Capital, please,” Dalan said, pulling out a bag of coins and dropping the proper amount into the hands of the porter, who nodded and held her hands out. A white light formed around the elf and a bright pillar of light erupted from the ground in front of her.
“Have a nice trip,” The porter said, smiling.
“Yeah,” Dalan said as he stepped forward into the light. When his vision cleared, he was standing among the well-dressed crowds of the Centran capital city. Crowds of people strolled in and out of the various boutique shops at the town square. Tobias, who leaned against a black metal lamppost nearby, caught Dalan's attention by waving him over. As Dalan walked down the pearly white cobblestone street, much of the crowd gave him a wide berth. He stopped at a shade tree next that was growing out of a neatly square patch of dirt near where Tobias was standing. It was bordered by a hedge of brick sized stones that were the same color white as the stones of the road. He sat down on the hedge and faced Tobias.
“So whats the plan?” Tobias asked.
“Well, I'm going to go and talk to a few of my contacts in town and see if they have seen Guilder Loross'i around. I think you should look around town as well. I trust Murad gave you an adequate description of Guilder Loross'i. You can easily pass as a Centran, so just see what you can learn. I'd check out the West Bank pub in the market district. Always some good gossip there. All you have to do is sit and listen. We should meet at the Drowsy Mora pub in the Atherston district around the time that the sun sinks below the west city walls. Got it?”
“How am I supposed to find these places?” Tobias asked Dalan.
“Just ask anyone. They should be nice enough if you say you are from the countryside. After all, you don't look like a Roma. Just don't be stupid and tell them you are from Al-Mahid,” Dalan said.
“One question,” Tobias replied.
“Hmm?” Dalan said, raising a sleepy eyebrow.
“I know we can cover more ground if we split up, but what if I run into the guy?” Tobias asked.
“Its not about covering ground, kid. It's about a Mora and someone who looks like a Centran walking together. That would draw attention to us, so even if we did meet him, he'd see us coming. Think. One of the possible reasons that a Centran and a Mora would be wandering the city streets together would be that the council of guilds decided on two people well suited to apprehend Loross'i. He'd see us coming from a mile away.”
“Thats true.” Tobias shrugged.
“Well, remember. Drowsy Mora pub. I'll see you in a few hours.” Dalan turned his back and began to walk away.
“Wait, Dalan!” Tobias called. Dalan stopped and turned around. “These might help,” Tobias tossed a small bag to Dalan, who caught it in both of his hands. He loosened the rope holding the top closed and looked inside.
“Crossbow bolts?”
“Yeah. Handle them carefully. My friend Dr. Algathier, leader of the Fraternary, coated the tips with a sort of nerve poison. It is enough to incapacitate anyone you shoot, or yourself if you don't handle them carefully. The effects should last long enough for us to secure Loross'i and get him out of the city,” Tobias paused thoughtfully. “How the hell are we going to get him out of the city without the guards noticing?” Dalan smiled.
“I'll leave that one for you to figure out,”
“Aww, come on!” Taylor said, throwing his hands up and smiling.
“You are a clever guy, you figure it out,” Dalan smiled. “Thanks for the bolts. They should help.”
“You plan to take him down if you see him?” Tobias asked in amazement. “A guilder?”
“Well, I am more experienced than you think. So who is this Algathier guy anyways? I hardly hear you talk about anyone in the Fraternary,”
“He's... A strange one. No one knows where he came from and he doesn't keep any more money than he needs to eat from day to day. Gives the rest to the beggars and others who need it. Rumor has it that he has been wandering around the world, learning crafts and skills from various cultures. Medicine and Philosophy from the Elvaan, studying the religion of the church of Archos and most recently, he found a few members of the fraternary and is teaching us many things. I can't place his accent. Certainly not Al-Mahid or Centran, though. He claims that he studied engineering and Hume and Elvaan physiology at some top academy in Elvaan territory. Showed up about five years ago and taught us what he had learned. The former leader of the Fraternary was learning more from him than he was teaching, so he eventually gave Dr. Algathier his position. As for the entire order, aside from hiding our identities from the authorities, we try and maintain a body of scientific knowledge that Al-Mahid can draw upon in the future, should the control of the religious fanatics finally loosen.”
“Yeah, I used to believe in all that Sharah stuff, gods and all. Always thought that Sharah could deliver me from my troubles, but when I looked at it, I was really the only one who could do anything about my situation,”
“I don't know. I was raised to believe in such things. Never really questioned them, but I guess I never saw them as an important part of my life either. I am a follower of the Church of Archos. I guess it caught on since I have Centran family on both sides. The existence of Archos doesn't conflict with scientific thought. Not in my mind at least. Many of the greatest sages in our history, even some current members of the fraternary are believers in some form of religion.”
“And what does this Algathier guy think?” Dalan asked curiously.
“He tends not to talk about it too much really. I think he is of the opinion that we are all connected to something greater than ourselves, but what that is, I don't think he even claims to know.”
“I think we all are a bit ignorant about stuff like that, whether we admit it or not. Sometimes I wonder if there actually is something out there. If so, it certainly has it in for me,” Dalan chuckled. “Interesting guy, this Dr. Algathier. The whole fraternary, in fact. You have to teach me some of this information you guys have compiled sometime,”
“Really?” Tobias asked.
“Hah, didn't place me as much of a scientist, huh?” Dalan smiled.
“Not quite,” Tobias replied, an expression of mock consideration on his face.
“Hah. I'm definitely not smart enough to be one. But I am interested in all of that stuff. Its amazing that people like you can actually understand it all. Well then, I guess we both have a lot to learn about each other,” Dalan turned and began to walk away and then looked back at Tobias. “I'll see you at the Drowsy Mora. Hopefully we can nab this guy without much trouble, then retire on the money,”
“Sounds good,” Tobias said. With that, Dalan rejoined the crowd. If only it were that easy. He thought.

. . .

“...So I see. Gil sent you to do this?”
“Well, thats one reason. I also have some business of my own to take care of around here. Think of it as a favor to her. I'm sure you owe her a lot. Most people in your position do, these days.”
“Well, if its the guilder that you want, I doubt he has left the capital,”
“He is here?”
“Yes. We were supposed to hire him... As a tactician for our military.”
“Military? Are you planning something?”
“You know I would be executed if they found out that I told anyone our plans. That is one thing I'm not willing to say for any amount of gold.”
“You might as well have said it just now. He declined your offer?”
“Yes and since he did, our second priority is capturing him and bringing him before the council of guilds.”
“I think you want him dead. He seems like quite an asset,”
“All we want to do is bring him before the council. If we are compelled to use deadly force to prevent an escape attempt, it is not our fault,”
“Yeah, 'compelled'. I understand.”
“You can think what you like. But whatever we are trying to do, he will not leave the city gates alive. Is that what you wanted to know?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“This wasn't a favor for you, it was for Gil,”
“Well I'll tell her,”
“Sorry. That was a bit harsh. You have earned a fortune for me, but you drive a hard bargain. When you recovered that legendary stash of treasure buried in the Akhmet pyramids, you demanded a eighty percent share.”
“And you reluctantly accepted. Thats business, Amadeus”
“And you are indeed a good businessman, Dalan.”
“I have to be. My job puts my life on the line more often than not. Until we meet again.”

. . .


Dalan nodded to a waitress as he pushed open the mahogany door of the restaurant. He stepped out into the evening sun of the day, which was beginning to set behind the city walls. Guess its time to meet Tobias. Didn't get too much information, but at least I know that Artemis is here... and won't be leaving anytime soon if the lords and the Chivalry have anything to say about it. As he walked, Dalan looked up at the sky, which, tinged with fiery red-orange reflected off of the pearly stone of the streets and building walls, enveloping the street in a warm glow. Shielding his eyes against the sun, Dalan admired the quiet beauty of this part of the city. Only a few people walked the streets now, likely returning to their homes and families. Family. Dalan thought, remembering the faces of his mother and father. Happy, smiling, laughing in the house. Dalan was determined to hold that image of them, not their last moments, their faces set in grim defiance, their voices shrill with fear for their son's life. Dalan turned onto a narrow street that was lined on either side by tall residence buildings and flats. The white stone that paved the street had vanished and was replaced by rough dirty grey stones. A beggar sat with his back propped against a wall, a dirty bottle of grog in his hand. Dalan walked into a small clearing with a sparsely kept garden in the center of the square, patches of mud showing between the weeds, grass and flowers. Backed up against the city walls, a shabby wooden building stood. Over the door, a sign hung with a crude depiction of a bald dark skinned man lounging under a poorly painted tree. Under the image, the words “Drowsy Mora Pub” were painted, although parts of the paint that made up the 'O' and 'D' in 'drowsy' were flaking off of the sign. Dalan strode up to the door and pushed it open, grating his teeth against the infernal creaking noise that followed. When Dalan stepped inside, his nostrils were immediately assaulted by the spicy smell of tobacco and the bitter tinge of grog. He scanned the room, with its rough shod wooden tables and chairs and equally rough patrons, for any sign of Tobias and he finally spotted him sitting at the bar at the far end of the room and looking very out of place among the motley crowd. Dalan walked up to a barstool which, unfortunately had only two legs of the same height and sat on it as best he could, bracing his feet against the ground to keep his balance.
“So, did you find anything?” Dalan said. Tobias turned around.
“Not at all. The Patriarch of the Church of Archos was giving a speech in the square about Al-Mahid killing their soldiers at the border. Do you think thats true?” Tobias replied.
“Its possible. But there are many other things that are just as likely. That is one of the reasons we are looking for Loross'i. Many of the guilders think that he might be responsible,” Dalan said, shaking his head, as if it would help him to ward off the confusion. “What I did learn was that the Centrans want Loross'i dead for some reason. One of my contacts told me that he was a tactician for hire. Perhaps they fear that he will go to Akhmet and offer his services to the Dey.” Tobias, however, looked behind Dalan quickly and promptly turned back.
“What is it?” Dalan whispered.
“I think thats him,” Tobias said, his eyes fixed on the bar in front of him, not daring to look back over his shoulder. The bartender walked up to Dalan.
“Do yer want anything?” He growled.
“Yeah. I'd like a pint of your strongest stout,” Dalan replied.
“That'll cost yer 30 quid,” The bartender replied. Dalan pulled out a few small coins and handed them to the bartender, who nodded and walked further down the bar. Dalan turned around just in time to see an older looking grey haired elf with long pointy ears and spectacles sit down at a table in the middle of the room.
“Thats not him,” Dalan stated, turning back to Tobias. “From what I hear, Loross'i looks younger than that. Still, it is rare to see Elvaan in a place like this.” The bartender returned with a frothy mug of malty looking brown liquid and set it down on the table in front of Dalan. Tobias picked up a mug which sat next to him and took a sip of the slightly cloudy water within.
“So what do we do now?” Tobias asked, sighing.
“I say we get some dinner, book an inn room and maybe look around at night. See if he tries to escape.” Dalan suggested.
“Thats a horrible idea,” Tobias replied. “This is a huge city. What makes you think that you can find him?”
“Got a better suggestion?” Dalan asked.
“I say we talk to the chivalry and try to arrange a search party,” Tobias replied.
“And let them kill Artemis when we catch up with him not-so-discreetly?” Dalan said, letting a hint of sarcasm creep into his voice.
“We're representatives of the council of the guilds. They wouldn't do that in front of us,” Tobias shot back.
“No,” Dalan corrected. “We are mercenary fighters from Al-Mahid. In the end, its our word against theirs. Who are they going to trust? A dirty Mora and a Roma? Or knights in shining armor?” Dalan took a deep swig of the stout sitting in front of him.
“Like those behind us?” Tobias said, setting down his mug of water.
“What?” Dalan said, choking and sputtering on his stout as he turned around. The pub had grown quiet as three knights strode in, clad in full battle array, save for their helmets. One of the knights walked up to a man in a threaded cloak and with a resounding clang of armor, knocked him out of his seat. The man scrambled to his feet in fear. The knight turned to his other two comrades and muttered. “Not him.” They continued to walk through the center of the room and Dalan noticed the uneasy look on the face of the Elvaan male that Tobias had pointed out earlier, who had his hands suspiciously in the pockets of his long overcoat. One of the knights walked up to a man in black robes and a cloak at a table only a few meters to the left of where Dalan and Tobias sat. The knight ripped the hood back to reveal an effeminate white haired man with fair skin and light brown eyes who, despite his greying hair, looked no older than twenty seven.
“Boss, I think this is him!” The knight shouted. The man tried to stand, but the knight drew his sword and pointed it directly at his neck. The young man slowly sat back down. “If you move, you die,” The other two knights quickly walked over to the table, their armor clanking and resounding across the quiet room. All eyes seemed to be fixed on them. One of the knights stepped forward to examine the man that his comrade had pointed out. He then stepped back and nodded in approval.
“Well, well, well. If it isn't our little tactician,” The knight said. The young man in the jet black robes turned around and took a sip of what looked to be a glass of pulpy yellow fruit juice.
“I told you before, ask someone else. I'm not interested,” He said, not looking over at the knight.
“This isn't about the job we offered, kid. That offer is long expired. The council of the guilds put a price on your head. Fifty million gold.” At the mention of the money, the silence was broken by a murmuring throughout the crowd. “We're here to bring you in,” The young man looked up at the knights in amusement.
“I see. I turn down your offer and I pay the consequences. Great way to do business, guys. Well, I suppose it would be a lot easier if I just went along with you peacefully, wouldn't it?” he replied, his voice level and calm. The knights laughed.
“You think you have a choice, you pansy? Look at you! You go to a pub and you order a glass of naranj juice. Really tough guy. You think that fighting your way out of this is an option, pretty boy?” A few chuckles arose from the crowd, but the young man looked completely unwavering in his resolve. Although he did not radiate confidence, there was a certain eerie serenity about him, as though his composure was simply a facade which hid things far more turbulent beneath the surface.
“We don't have to fight. I can just walk out of here,” He said dismissively.
“What was that?” The knight in front of him chided, barely touching his sword against the tip of the young man's throat.
“You heard me. If I went silently with you, you would attempt to kill me while we are far from any witnesses. Chances are, you'd fail and die and I'd escape. But in the off chance that I did die, you would achieve your goals. If you tried to kill me here, I would still kill you, but on the off chance that I die, everyone in this pub will have seen what you did. I'm sure High Guilder Regalia is willing to pay a man very well for that kind of information. 'knight kills innocent without cause'. The Guildership would love that one. If you let me walk, no one dies.” The young man stood up, still at swordpoint, his head only coming up to the tall burly knight's chest. Murmuring arose from the pub's patrons. “And you won't be humiliated or even tried in military court for that matter,”
“Enough of this talk, just take the little brat,” One of the other knights said. The knight nearest the young man grabbed his hand roughly, but the diminutive young man pulled back and looked straight into the knights eyes.
“If you grab me again, I'll be the last thing you'll ever be able to grab,” He said, a brief look of intense anger crossing his eyes. The knight leaned in close to the man.
“Is... that... a... threat...?” He whispered menacingly.
“Well if you put it that way... yes,” The young man said as a yellow light began to surround him. Blue electrical energy snaked out from his fingers, sparks dancing across the armor of the knight who still held onto him. The knight began to spasm violently in pain, frothing at the mouth, but the young man continued to keep his grip firm, energy leaping from his fingertips and onto the knight's now charred-red extended hand. The other knights drew their swords.
“Stop at once!” One of them yelled as they rushed to their comrade's aid. The cloaked man released his grip and the knight dropped to the floor, motionless. One of the other knights approached, swinging his sword hard for the young man's neck. The young man flicked his wrist and the sword stopped mid swing, the bewildered knight still attempting to drive the sword to its target. The man swiftly held his other hand out and sent the knight flying in midair as if struck by an invisible battering ram. The knight skidded across two tables before hitting the far right wall of the building with a thud. The other knight charged into the young man, bowling him over and pinning him to the floor pummelling him in the throat and chest with his armor clad gauntlets. Stunned, the young man shielded his face with one arm, but could not prevent the metal of the gauntlets from making small cuts on his skin as the knight drove punch after punch home. Yet again, a yellow glow surrounded his body and the knight on top of him hesitated briefly in fear. A loud bang rang out, followed by the ping of metal, then two more and the knight grunted and collapsed on top of the young man, his eyes lolling. Dalan, whose eyes had been riveted to the battle, turned to see the older looking elf with spectacles standing up, his hand extended and smoke coming out of the barrel of a revolver that he held in his hand. “A weapon that makes killing fire. K'tharh's assassin!” Dalan whispered to Tobias in amazement as he looked in awe upon the elf who had successfully broken into the Dey's palace just three days ago. The older elf walked up to the young man and kicked the prone knight off of him. The elf leveled the revolver at the young man.
“What...” The young man panted. “What are you doing?”
“What I have to,” The elf said as he began to squeeze the trigger. “Hm?”
“Tobias, no!” Dalan shouted, but Tobias had already leapt off of the barstool and charged at the elf, knife in hand. The elf swung around and with deadly accuracy, shot Tobias in the leg. Tobias let out a yelp as his legs went from under him and he hit the hard wooden floor chin first. Dalan had risen and unstrapped the crossbow from his back, aiming it at the older elf. Many of the patrons of the bar who were entertained at the beginning of the spectacle were now edging toward the door. The elf had pulled out another revolver and backed up, one still pointing at the young man on the floor, one aimed directly at Dalan.
“And who would you two be?” The elf asked.
“Just some guys trying to make a living really. It seems that you are wanted in my country for murder, old man. Got a pretty big price on your head. Oh and don't kill the kid. If you do, I don't see why I shouldn't shoot you as well,”
“Don't get in my way. I'll finish this one,” The old elf nodded at the young man lying on the floor. “And I'll be on my way. My business is not with you.”
“Why didn't you just let them take me?” The young man lying on the floor said, looking down the barrel of the old elf's silvery revolver. “They were going to kill me anyway,”
“Try to kill you, as you yourself said. I had to make sure that it got done. What I can't understand is why the Chivalry is after their own country's military advisor.” The young man on the floor began to shake with laughter.
“Military advisor? You are a funny one. I'm just a student on my Zmarrd'k for the Windlewood Academy and you mistake me for K'tharh's brother?” The man on the floor continued to laugh. The older man looked bewildered.
“So you aren't K'tharh's half brother?” He asked.
“Of course not. Look before you shoot, old man. I'm...”
“Artemis Loross'i,” Dalan said, still keeping his crossbow trained on the old man. “Head of the magicians' guild in Gabradia.” Tobias had struggled to prop himself against the bar and pull himself onto his feet. He wiped his lip, which was red with blood.
“Can I get up now?” Artemis asked, scowling at the old elf... The old elf eyed Artemis suspiciously and nodded slowly. Artemis stood up and sat on a nearby chair. The man kept his revolver pointed between Artemis' eyes. “What is a Greykein elf doing down here in Hume territory anyway? Do you expect to pass for an Elvaan despite those splotches down the side of your face?” Greykein? Dalan thought. Not Elvaan?
“Hah, Humes can't tell. Most of them probably don't even know what a Greykein Elf is,” the man said, laughing bitterly. “Or the fact that the reason that the Elvaan took over their lands long ago was to secure enough resources to fight us. Anyways, I'm just trying to protect these Humes from an Elvaan invasion,” Artemis gasped.
“You knew as well?” Artemis said, amazed. Tobias, his face contorted in pain still managed to look utterly surprised.
“Merde. Dar was right, that old Elvaan codger,” Dalan muttered. Artemis turned to him.
“Dar Loross'i?” He almost shouted.
“Yeah, thats him. Your old man,” Dalan said levelly. “He told me that the Elvaan noble houses were overwhelmingly in favor of going to war. At the Elvaan leader Grand Sage Almass'i's suggestion of course. Told me his son was down here and to find him and take care of him,”
“I don't believe you. Dar would never do that. He hates me.” Dalan shrugged.
“I don't know about your familial problems, kid. Just repeating what he told me.”
“You have an Elvaan crossbow. Thats ancient Amaurean handiwork. Who are you?” Artemis stammered.
“Dalan Hafid. I spent a few years living in Amaurea. Thats how I know your dad. Don't know why he told me to look out for you. I guess there is a war on the way, but you seem perfectly capable of taking care of yourself,”
“Excuse an old elf,” The Greykein elf cut in, looking at Tobias. “But why did you try to kill me, Hume-child?”
“Apprehend you.” Dalan corrected. “We thought that it was a possibility that you were either a Centran or Elvaan spy. Either way, it would be the logical course of action to bring you before our country for interrogation and collect my reward.”
“D-Dalan?” Tobias managed. “You never told me that you were coming here to protect Artemis. Yo-you...” Tobias slid down the wall of the bar, unconscious.
“Well, I suggest we get your young lad some help here. There is an inn down the street that I'm staying at. I'll drop by and tell them I'm expecting guests. Then I think that I should find a healing magick affine and meet you all at my room.” The Greykein elf edged back to the door of the pub, still pointing his gun at Dalan cautiously. The entire pub sat motionless, the patrons eyes affixed to the three men. “Excuse me, I'm so rude.” He said, stopping suddenly and shaking his head. “Didn't make your acquaintance, although I'm sure you understand under the current circumstances. I'm Claude Colton. Pleased to meet all of you,” Claude Colton? Dalan thought. Not the most Elvan name. Maybe these Greykein are different, though. With that, he knelt next to Tobias, picking him up and slinging him over his shoulder.
“Hey, Artemis. Lets get out of here.”

. . .

The old greykein is staying here? Dalan thought as he sat down onto a plush white couch, the soft, yet substantial cushion bouncing a little as he sat on it. He knows how to travel in style. Dalan thought as he put his feet on top of the polished ebony table which sat in front of the couch. The Rose and Crown resort, Dalan had found, was the place that the lords and nobles stayed when they came into the city. Each of the rooms, even those intended for only one or two was the size of a studio apartment and the one Dalan was sitting in right now was no exception. A gold encrusted bowl of exotic candied fruits sat on the table in front of him and with the pull of a rope nearby, which rang a bell in the lobby, someone could be summoned to attend to his every need. The restaurant in the lobby was perhaps one of the best in Centra, but one thousand gold was quite a steep price to pay for the cheapest entree on the menu. Dalan had looked at the list of vin from various vineyards around the continent the last time he was in Centra and was completely stunned by both variety and quality. Artemis flopped down on the couch next to Dalan.
“So you think the kid will be alright?” Dalan asked, nodding to a bed with white sheets in the corner. Tobias lay upon it, his wound dressed and wrapped in gauze and the bullet removed.
“Yeah. I'm no doctor, but we had to take an intro military field medicine at the academy. It should slow the blood flow until that old grey gets a healing affine. Cleaned it up so it wouldn't get infected and gave him some Syar's elixir to get rid of the pain.”
“Academy? You mean the Windlewood Military and Magick Academy?”
“Thats the one,” Artemis replied. “Studied military tactics and Hume magicks. Thats why I'm here. My Zmarrd'k.” Dalan picked up a candied apple and took a bite, savoring the sweet taste of the carmelized cinnamon sugar that coated the apple. “So how did you meet Dar?”
“Well, thats a long story. I don't know if you've heard of it, but I fought in the Jaza border dispute for my country, Al-Mahid.” Artemis raised his eyebrows slightly, but said nothing. Dalan eyed Artemis suspiciously. Conducting the bargaining part of his career as a treasure hunter required him to be scrupulous with examining body language and posture and Artemis had just given him reason to believe that there was something that he wanted to say.
“Hm?” Dalan asked.
“What? Oh. Its nothing, continue,” Artemis shrugged. I'll have to find out why Jaza interests this guy later. Dalan thought as he continued. “Our commanding officers ordered us to move into a city and slay some of the civilians, women and children as well, in the hopes that it would cause the Jaza to split their forces to try and recapture the city. It would free up some of our troops, who were already fighting a losing battle. Honestly, I wasn't for that, so I fled the country as a deserter. On the way out, I tried to steal some gold from a passing caravan, so that I could pay for a port out of the country.” Dalan laughed, a sort of resignation in his voice. “Well, as it turned out, they spotted me and I had a price put on my head for attempted theft and for deserting the army. The caravan I had tried to rob was owned by a merchant who was one of the Dey's closest business associates. I assume that when my commanding officer reported that I was missing, the merchant had already reported the attempted theft as well. The times and descriptions matched up and well, a couple of assassins were hired to bring me in dead or alive. Luckily, it was war time, so the best of the guild of assassins who operate under his command were busy with the war effort. I don't think I'd be here today if they sent their best after me. Anyways, I fled to Amaurea. Your father took me in and found me a job. After staying in the country for five years, I thought it would be safe to move back into Hume territory.”
“Well,” Artemis chuckled. “Suppose I should watch my gold around you. It might grow legs and walk away.”
“As for you dad,” Dalan continued, “He is a good guy,” Why doesn't he refer to Dar as 'dad' or at least 'father? Dalan wondered. Indeed, it was a strange concept to Dalan to even have family, much less dismiss parents as kind hearted as Dar and his May seemed to be. His dad is even the patriarch of an Elvaan noble family. The noble house of Loross, or in the Elvaan language, Loross'i. Why is this kid distancing himself from royalty? Hell of a rebellious streak.
“And lets get this straight, I don't need your gold, kid,” Dalan replied.
“Since you make loads as an odd job treasure hunter and mercenary, I'm sure,” Artemis replied. Actually... Dalan thought, but he simply shrugged. “And whats with the 'kid'? I'm a half elf, remember? I'm fifty six hume years. Probably older than you,”
“Hah, calling people kid is just a habit.” Dalan replied. “I guess being called 'Old Dal' half your life makes you at least believe that you are jaded,” Dalan gestured dramatically. Artemis laughed.
“Jaded? You need at least a hundred years under your belt before you can lay claim to that, hume-child,” A clipped, proper voice said from the entryway of the room,” Claude Colton, strode across the room in his graceful regal manner, stopping next to the bed in which Tobias lay. Next to him stood a short young freckled teenager in white cleric's robes, probably of seventeen years, with sandy brown hair and light blue eyes. Dalan turned to Artemis and said in a low voice.
“I'll stop calling you kid when old man here stops calling me hume child,”
“You are a child. You aren't even seventy yet,” Artemis replied
“Thats irrelevant. I'm not an elf, half or otherwise. I hope I can even make it to seventy,” Dalan said.
“I'm standing right here you know.” Claude sighed. “This young child is Jonathan. He said that he would see what he could do about your friend,” He said, nodding to Tobias. Dalan stood up to greet Jonathan, who extended his hand, appraising at Dalan with poorly concealed curiosity.
“Hey, come on, don't act like you've never met a Mora before,”
“I'm sorry. It's just an interesting group you have here. An elf, a Mora and two Centrans” Jonathan said, scurrying nervously over to the bed where Tobias lay. He unwrapped the gauze, soaked red with blood, which was wrapped around the wound
“Centran?” Artemis said. “Try half elf,”
“Sorry,” Jonathan said again, looking embarrassed. He looked at Tobias' leg in amazement “What happened here? I have never seen anything like this before,” He said, cocking his head to the side as he looked at the small circular wound in the side of Tobias' lower thigh.
“The lad had an accident while traveling through the Nadel mountains,” Claude said, walking to the side of the bed. “Slipped and caught his leg on a nasty rock. My companions and I were headed up to Elvaan territory when we found him unconscious on the ground.”
“Hmm. Well this shouldn't be too bad,” Jonathan said, kneeling and pulling a twisted oaken staff from his belt. He held it over the wound and closing his eyes, muttered a word that sounded like resilium. An aura of white light surrounded Tobias as Jonathan, deep in concentration, channeled the magical energy through the wound. The blood around the wound clotted, crusting and changing from dark red in color to black. Jonathan abruptly sat back, breathing heavily. He stood up slowly, examining Tobias' wound.
“Sorry,” Jonathan panted. “I'm a little new at this. I was just consecrated a year ago,”
“Thats fine,” Dalan replied. “So, is he going to be fine?”
“Yes, I think so. Just give him a good night's rest and he should be fine by morning.” Jonathan said. “I'll stay here to watch over him for a little while,”
“We appreciate it,” Dalan said. “And thats fine. Artemis here seems to be quite the medic. We can take care of it from here,”
“If I may, I'd like to stay and make sure he recovers. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if my magical ineptitude caused you more trouble,” Jonathan said. Dalan shrugged.
“Suit yourself.”
“Well, since we have somewhat of a party here, I say we get some food. I'm starving,” Artemis said, picking up a candied apple and taking a bite of it.
“Sounds good. I'll get someone up here to take our order,” Dalan said, walking over to the rope near the couch and tugging on it gently. A soft, brassy toned bell sounded, indicating that his summons had been received. Claude Colton sighed and settled into a polished oak chair in front of a beautiful gold encrusted oak desk.
“I have to give the Elvaan credit. They have done a great job thus far, playing the nations against one another,”
“I still don't quite understand. How are the Elvaan involved in this anyways? I was told that they planned to invade Hume lands, but no more. Have they already begun?” Dalan asked.
“In a way,” Claude replied. “I suppose that Thirik Almass'i, the Grand Sage of the Elvaan Oligarchy has been planning for this since he came to power, fifty years ago. The first step was to add members to the trusted inner circles of the leaders of those nations who would pose a threat to the invasion force,”
“And then play them against each other, making the invasion easy as shabacake.” Artemis said. “A simple enough ploy on paper. It would take a lot of time and precision to pull off in reality,”
“Time that the Elvaan Oligarchy indeed has. Compared to a Hume lifespan, even Half Elves like you live to be over twice as old on average. As you probably know, Elvaan and Greykein sometimes live to see four hundred hume-years. If it took thirty years to entrench people into important places in Hume governments, that would probably be a favorable period of time indeed. Thats why I took it upon myself to... dispose of K'tharh and his brother, Cam'tharh. They were the most integral pieces in fanning the flames of this war. Both were military advisors to the leaders of the countries. Both highly trusted. With them out of the way, I thought that I could spread some uncertainty on the prospect of war. As it is, however, it seems that Cam'tharh felt his brother's death and went into hiding. I haven't been able to find him,”
“You forget about the Elvaans' connection to the Anemoi, the winds of life. Cam'tharh would notice if his brother died. I guess a grey wouldn't know that though,” Artemis replied.
“Perhaps I was careless,” Claude said, looking at the ground. “But there is still hope. There are others like us trying to prevent this war. Even if I've failed, others may yet succeed,”
“Invade Hume lands!?” Jonathan said, his eyes wide in fear. “Why would they do that?”
“I have no idea, hume-child. But if they do, I doubt your nation, any nation, will stand a chance,” Claude said sadly.
“The Patriarch must hear about this then! After your friend is recovered, I shall go at once to tell him!”
“Save your breath, oh man of faith,” Artemis quipped, twiddling his thumbs. “He's already been given his role by the Elvaan. A lowly cleric like you won't do anything to change his mind. So who are you, old man?” Artemis said, reclining on the couch and looking up at Colton inquisitively. “And what makes you think that you can single handedly stop this war? Or even makes you think that you should stop this war. The conflict between the Elvaan and the Greykein ended eighty eight years ago, so this isn't about nations, is it? You aren't trying to play a Kauda are you?”
“No, its not about the nations. I don't work under the jurisdiction of the Greykein Alliance. And I'm no Kauda. Just an old man trying to protect others from themselves. I have my reasons,” Claude said.
“And I'm sure they are so important that you cant tell any of us,” Artemis replied sarcastically.
“Artemis,” Dalan interrupted. “Please, give it a break. and what is a Kauda?”
“Kauda Shimar'j is a rumor that has been floating around since the last theatres of the Greykein wars of secession. Supposedly this 'Kauda' was an ex-military Greykein who led of a band of pirates who were opposed to the war between the Elvaan and the Greykein. They attacked, robbed and captured supply convoys from both sides. He was supposedly the member of a rich and influential mercantile family who cut ties with the Greykein alliance.” Claude said. “The retired mercenaries and old cowboys who perpetrated acts of piracy out of discontent were referred to as Kaudas. Personally, i think this Kauda character was a personification of the general discontent of the war. There was certainly a lot of it,” Claude was interrupted by a knock on the door. Dalan stood up and went to open it. A man dressed in a black tuxedo stood stiffly at the door.
“How can I be of service, sir?” He said.
“Could we have dinner for five, please?” Dalan said.
“What would you like?” The man asked.
“Three bottles of your best red vin, please. Aside from that, perhaps a couple of stuffed roast jarva birds and some sort of vegetable. Tell your chef to just be creative and do as he wishes,” Dalan said. “This is one of the finest establishments in Centra. I'm sure it will be excellent,”
“That it will, sir,” The man in the tuxedo bowed and turned to walk back down the hallway. Dalan walked over to the side of Tobias' bed and stood for a moment with Jonathan.
“'Three bottles of your best red vin'? I hope you are paying,” Claude muttered.
“A poor Mora like me?” Dalan said, smiling and nodding at the bag of gold tied to his belt. “Wow, not used to a Centran bowing, though. Most of them give me looks of disgust,” Dalan said.
“Well, I'm sure he was thinking what most Centrans aren't so good at hiding,” Artemis ventured.
“Hey!” Jonathan said. “There are two Centrans here, you know. We aren't all like that,”
“Two?” Artemis asked. Dalan let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, Tobias! Claude told you he was from the countryside, didn't he? He is actually from Al-Mahid.”
“What?” Jonathan said, looking again at Tobias and appraising him.
“Yeah. The kid is Roma. Part Centran to be sure, but more Roma than anything else,” Dalan replied. “We thought that we wouldn't be able to get someone from the chapel to come heal him if we told the truth,”
“I can't believe you guys,” Jonathan said, crossing his arms.
“Well,” Claude said, reclining in his chair. “Would they have sent you back with me if I told them that there was a Roma mercenary who needed medical attention?” Jonathan looked at Claude, his mouth agape, but said nothing. “I thought so. You Humes are a strange people. You really need to stop bickering over such silly things as nationality and race and think about things that are worthwhile,”
"Yeah," Dalan stated. "Like elves and their tactfully planned wars of invasion," Dalan said, rolling his eyes."
"I have to admit, I do find it a bit peculiar," Claude said thoughtfully. "There has only been one significant Elvaan conflict in our recorded history. That would be the Greykein Wars of secession. Even those were ideological. The Elvaan simply believed that it would be better for all elves to have solidarity between Elvaan nations. Elves rarely fight for greed, they fight for ideals. The question remains, why is this invasion occurring in the first place?" Dalan nodded, then turned back to Jonathan.
"Sorry to deceive you, kid. I just had to make sure that Tobias here got taken care of. No chances could be taken. Speaking of which, how is he doing?” Dalan looked over at Tobias, whose eyes were closed. He was breathing heavily, his arms across his chest.
“Just sleeping. He should be fine in the morning,” Jonathan said.
“Thats good,” Dalan said, relieved. He walked back across the room to the couch and sank back onto its cushions, feeling tired and ragged from the long day. “So Artemis. How did you learn about all of this?”
“An old friend, actually. A guy who has helped me out of a lot of tough spots in the past. He told me to look into matters. Sure enough, I heard some of my students who were the magick affine sons of Centran nobles discussing it. Thus, I decided to do what I could. I thought that killing members on both sides would help to unite the countries against a common, unknown enemy. It wasn't much but it was all I could do without dragging my students into this. Seems that all it did was bring the council of the guilds down on me, since the two countries were already preparing for war anyway. And its only a matter of time before the conflict begins and the Elvaan sweep through to obliterate both the Al-Mahid and Centra,” Artemis sighed. Dalan stood up and looked out the window upon the city. The night was clear and crisp and the street lamps which lined the main avenue shed a faint light upon the street below
“Hm?” Dalan said as he squinted his eyes in order to better see the street. He could make out the figures of twelve men in knights' armor, marching down the street to the inn. “They found us!” Dalan almost shouted.
“Who? Dont tell me its those knights,” Artemis said, standing up abruptly. Claude looked up in shock.
“I'm afraid so. We have to get out of here, now!” He said. Dalan walked over to Tobias, shaking him.
“Hey, wake up!” Dalan whispered loudly. Jonathan ran to the bedside.
“I said he would be fine in the morning, not that he was in good enough shape to run from the authorities. What did you guys do? I can't believe I'm helping criminals!”
“Look, your country is about to be thrown into a war so that it can be conquered. We are in trouble for trying to stop it. You can run to those knights and turn us in, you can go back to your little sheltered life at the abbey until the Elvaan cut through your defense force or you can come with us. We could really use someone who knows how to use healing magicks. What we don't need is a whiny nationalist,” Dalan said dismissively. “Tobias!” Tobias opened his eyes groggily. “Can you walk? Some knights are coming and I don't think they are here for dinner,”
“What!” Tobias said, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. “How many” He said, stumbling out of the bed wincing in pain. He can stand. That Jonathan kid is good... for an amateur. Dalan thought.
“We have at least twelve,” Dalan said. Tobias' eyes widened.
“Are you guys going to talk all day, or are we going to get out of here?” Artemis sighed, walking to the door. He drew a long dagger from a sheath under his black robes, its blade crafted of some sort of blue transparent crystal which shone brightly in the light of a wall sconce.
“A magician who fights with a blade?” Tobias said, drawing his own knife.
“A concept Humes never seem to have thought of, it appears,” Claude said, swinging his feet off of the desk and leisurely standing, unholstering his revolvers and walking to the door. “Thank you for your help, young Jonathan. I fear we must leave now,”
“I'm going,” Jonathan said. Artemis looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I want to learn what is really going on here. Just don't expect me to take any blame if we get caught.”
“Fine,” Dalan said. “Don't worry. I'll take care of that. Claude, is there another way out of this place?”
“Indeed. Follow me!” Claude replied, pushing the door open and running out into the hallway.

. . .

Dalan's breath came in rasps as he sprinted down the alleys, ducking to avoid clotheslines which were strung out of the windows of the tenements that lined either side of the pathway. The walls rose up around him, massive walls of gray stone, staring down on him through their dimly lit windows.
“Where are we going, Claude?” He asked breathlessly as Claude ducked into another, smaller side street. Dalan could hear the sound of running feet and he figured that Tobias, Artemis and Jonathan were close behind. Dalan flailed around the corner, his arm scraping the wall as he followed. That old man is fit! Dalan thought.
“Central sewage duct. It empties into a river a few miles outside of the city. If we get there, we will be home free, but...” Claude shouted behind him.
“Where is this sewage duct?” Dalan panted, racing out onto a wider street. He looked around nervously and noticed that they had turned onto a wide open avenue. “Ah, damnation. You have to be kidding. Like they wont be waiting for us in the town square.”
“We don't have a choice.” Claude replied. “I'm betting that they have all of the city gates closed and monitored. The central sewage duct is the only one here that we could fit through. It also leads to the main water ducts that dumps the sewage out of the city,” Claude shouted over his back.
“It leads a few miles to the west of the city gates,” A voice said from behind Dalan.
“True, Tobias,” Dalan replied, remembering the mapping of the Centran water system that they had made in preparation to find the queen Blatta. “I guess this is our best bet.”
“Umm, guys. We have a huge problem,” Another voice said from behind Dalan.
“What is it, Artemis?” Claude asked. “We're almost there. Just under that archway.”
“Yeah, that would be nice and all if we weren't being followed,” Artemis shouted. Dalan turned around and got a glance at their pursuers. twelve men, three of them holding torches, running as fast as they could down the street some distance behind them. Dalan slammed into Claude, stumbling over the elf as he rolled onto the floor. Why did he stop? Dalan thought, but when he looked up, his sweat-covered brow wrinkled in frustration. In front of them stood another battalion of twelve knights, just under the archway to the town square. Dalan heard Tobias' heavy breathing behind him and the clanking of armor from the knights approaching from behind grew closer. Before Dalan could even make out the figures clearly, the sound of metal against the stone of the street grew to a deafening roar. The flickering light of the torches illuminated the group, lending an orange glow to the company's haggard faces. Artemis, while the least out of breath, had his brow furrowed and his fists clenched. He was shaking slightly as if he were overcome with rage at the thought of being captured. Don't do anything stupid, kid. Dalan thought as the two dozen knights surrounded them. Two of the men holding torches stepped forward. Claude Colton was standing up to brush his the dust off of his black leather overcoat when one of the two knights pushed him back down onto the ground. Snickering issued from around them as Claude looked up, his face showing no anger or embarrassment, but a look of resignation.
“So, what do we have here?” one of the knights said.
“I didn't have anything to do with this, I promise!” Jonathan said, stepping forward.
“Get back kid,” The knight said, shoving Jonathan harshly back. “If you didn't do anything than why were you running? A couple of knights were found dead in the Drowsy Mora. Got word that you bastards killed them. When we told the owner of the inn, he was glad to let us in to apprehend you.”
“You really need to train your soldiers better,” Artemis said coolly. “They were there to capture me. It is a pity that two of them died and he other one looks like he won't be eating solid food for a while,”
“Look, elf. Let me be straight with you. You killed Sir Alastor, a good knight. We went through basic training together. Our only orders are to get rid of you. No one specified how slow or painful we could make your death. You'll be praying to your god to let you die after we're through with you. If you elves even believe in one. And you,” The knight said curiously, turning to Dalan. The knight broke into laughter. “Dalan Hafid! Perfect! Mora spy instigates war between Centra and Al-Mahid. You will be the reason for our little skirmish.” Jonathan looked up at the knight in surprise.
“You are going to use him as an excuse to invade Al-Mahid?” He said, a look of betrayal on his face.
“You obviously don't know how things work out here in the real world. If you hadn't just heard everything, we would have let you go back home and study your magicks, read holy texts or whatever you people do. Now, honestly, I don't know what to do with you,” the leader of the knights mused, raising an armored hand thoughtfully to his chin.
“Thats it. I'm not letting thousands die because of your stupidity,” Artemis said, stepping forward, his hand glowing with a pale blue light. As Artemis walked past Dalan, the air around him became frigid. “Dalan, Tobias, Claude. We fight our way out of this or we die,” Claude stood up, drawing his pistols and shrugging.
“I should have been dead long ago. Guess this is my atonement,” There was a deafening clang of metal as the knights drew their swords. Jonathan stepped back, trembling in fear and Tobias looked at Dalan inquisitively. Don't look at me, kid Dalan thought, though he was surprised and a little angry at the situation Artemis had put them in. I'm not the one getting us killed.
“Artemis, stop!” A loud voice rang out from above. Dalan turned around and spotted a tall figure standing atop a three story apartment, his green cloak obscuring his face and stature. All of the knights had turned to look up at the figure. The man in my dream! Dalan thought breathlessly, remembering the dream of his parents death. He told me to... Wake up? That is the same voice. It has to be him. But how did he... Does he know me? I have never seen him before.
“Isfahan?” Artemis shouted in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think, son?” He asked.
“Don't tell me you came to Centra to look out for me, because I wouldn't believe it. And I am not your son. I'm a Half-Elf, you are Jazair. I'm not into all of this metaphorical 'you are all my children' merde either,” Artemis said, waving his hand. Jazair? Is he the warrior-king? Dalan thought. During and after the war, Dalan had heard many stories of a warrior in a green cloak leading the Jazair into battle. Battalions were forced into retreat by this one man alone, if the legends were accurate at all. Dalan stood, looking up at the man, wondering this was who his fellow comrades had spoken of. The figure turned to the mass of knights surrounding the group. All down the street, windows were glowing with light from the rooms beyond. Figures could be seen looking curiously out of them. The figure turned to the knights
“Sorry, children, but I must ask you to let these people go. I know they have wronged your countrymen, but it is for your own good. They must live, at least for now, so that the balance may e maintained.” We do? Dalan thought. The balance? “So much bickering amongst youngsters, fighting over who gets to play what role,” Isfahan sighed, his cloak flapping about him in the chilly night wind. “Must so many exist in illusion and so few realize that their childhood has ended?”
“Sorry. We aren't stopping for some kook in a cloak,” The leader replied. His men laughed “Men, seize these bastards. We'll lock em up. Men?” Yelps of surprise arose from the knights as supple, thin green vines snaked up from the dirt between the stones and wrapped themselves around many of their legs. Again, a deafening clanking filled the streets as the knights tripped over each other, sawing at the vines with their swords, but to no avail. For every one that they cut, many more arose to bind their legs faster than before. The leader looked down in surprise to find his legs tightly wrapped as well.
“What kind of witchcraft is this!?” The leader shouted, but Isfahan ignored him and faced Dalan.
“Port them out of here. I am sure you know where you should go,” He said.
“Hey, I'm no healing affine, sorry, can't do that. Can I ask who you are?” Dalan replied.
“Not a healing affine, you say? Interesting. Perhaps I was wrong then,” Isfahan said. Despite not being able to see the man's face, Dalan felt as if he was being scrutinized. “Young Centran child, then. Jonathan, is it?” Isfahan said, facing Jonathan.
“You know my name?” Jonathan said, in amazement.
“Lend them your skills. You should go with them. You have much to learn,” Isfahan said.
“But, I can only port to-” Jonathan started, but was interrupted by Isfahan.
“Yes, I know. that will do,” He replied dismissively.
“Hey,” The leader of the knights said, grunting and struggling to free himself of the unusually strong vines. “You know that the Church has records of all of the places that its members can port. We will deal with you, then find this cleric's porting records and hunt all of them down.” Isfahan laughed.
“Well, you can certainly port individuals into the city to look for them, but I fear they will be long gone by the time you can get to a porter.
"Foolish man. Then we will just set up a search perimeter. Sooner or later they will have to escape."
"Search perimeter? not if you run into some... say... unfortunate weather,” He said, raising his hands above his head. A strong wind blew by and a deeper darkness fell upon the city as black clouds formed, blotting the ivory moon from the sky. A shadow enveloped them all and Dalan looked up, bewildered as large raindrops began to fall, at first slowly, progressing to a torrent, plastering his hair to his head. “Jonathan!” Isfahan's voice rang out over the surprised yelps of the knights, who struggled to back away from the cloaked man, despite their vine bound feet and legs. “Jonathan. You should go with them. I know your heart desires to know the truth,” Isfahan said. Through through the darkness and pelting rain, Dalan could hardly make out his figure atop the building.
"Feynum!" Jonathan shouted. Dalan turned to see that Jonathan had his staff in his right hand. A bright pillar of light appeared in front of Dalan.
“Come on!” Jonathan said as he jumped into the light. Dalan stumbled over the wet stone and dove head first into the portal squeezing his eyes shut and stretching his hands out in front of him.