Difficult decisions

Myrina looked across at Fenrir. "What's wrong? Aren't you going to push?"

"It wouldn't do any good, though you're welcome to try if you like." Fenrir stepped back, frowning up at the massive portal. Why was it denying him? He remembered Shazrak mentioning that it had not always opened to the goblins' raiding parties either, and that they had never figured out why.

Myrina stepped forward and put her shoulder to the door, but she might as well have been trying to uproot a mountain. Judging from her attitude when she gave up, she knew it as well as he did.

He reached into his pouch and brought out the Key of Apollyon. But no amount of concentration could force the necessary keyhole into existence out here. Only on the rostrum inside the cathedral could travel back to Ruyanei be initiated. Next, he tried using God's Eye on the doors themselves, but as expected, it gave him nothing. They were only doors, and God's Eye only worked on living beings.

"So... what do we do?" The question came from Tsavani, her brilliant amber eyes fixed expectantly on him.

Fenrir considered. Waiting around and hoping it would open later was an option, though not one he particularly liked. From the way Shazrak had spoken, the door opened at the behest of entities known only as the Keepers, which implied there was a thinking mind behind whatever process decided whether the doors would open upon request. If so, just waiting around wasn't likely to produce a change by itself, and they only had a limited amount of water, so they couldn't wait forever.

But what would produce the change? Fenrir contemplated possibilities for several seconds before giving it up. He simply didn't know enough about these Keepers to be able to make any sort of educated guess as to why they were closing the way to him. In point of fact, he didn't even know for certain that they existed; he was simply taking Chief Shazrak's word for it.

He refocused on the rest of his party. His girls were all looking at him, waiting patiently for him to finish thinking and give them directions. "This way," he said. "Let's get out of the open first."

The direwolf led the way back through the first set of gates and into a nearby alley. Once sufficiently under cover, he stopped and turned back to them. "Chief Shazrak did mention that those doors don't always open on request. He didn't know why they don't, though. I'd like to ask him more about it, but getting to him remains a problem."

"Right, because the wastes don't exactly provide a lot of places to hide if the White Horror decides to show up," Nelith supplied.

"Yes," Fenrir nodded.

"Do you know about where he is now from your rewinding time thing you did?"

He shook his head. "When he landed it was from roughly the same direction as Goblintown, but there's nothing that says he couldn't have circled first. Judging by how fast he came in, he would have dived from at least a thousand feet up, maybe more." The direwolf's brow darkened as he thought about it. There was really no excuse; he should have heard the ancient dragon coming. Something that big couldn't fly without making some kind of noise.

"Are we even sure the goblins survived? Goblins aren't exactly known for successfully standing up to dragons," Myrina put in, frowning back down the alley in the direction from which they had come.

"There's no guarantee," Fenrir shrugged, "but I'm inclined to think they're holding on for the present at least. First, Goblintown is pretty deep underground, and so far as I'm aware the only entrance is far too small to let anything even approaching the White Horror's size through. Second, if they were wiped out, why is the White Horror still roaming around out here?

"Additionally, Chief Shazrak thought that with the items they stole from his hoard, even they would be able to make the White Horror think twice. I don't know if he was just blowing hot air or not, but he did mention they got even more out of the raid than they thought they would."

There was a silence. Nelith watched Fenrir's face. Seeing her die had seriously rattled him, as evidenced by the fact that he still hadn't put her down. In some ways it was hard to believe; after all, she had never even heard of someone being able to turn back time before. But he had never lied to her before, and he had never been this shaken before either.

That wasn't why she was watching him, though. She knew him. She knew what he prioritized when danger threatened.

He opened his mouth. "Here's what we're going to do. All of you will stay hidden here in the city and periodically check the cathedral door. Nelith has the other Key, so if it does open you can leave immediately. In the meantime, I'm going to cross the wastes and talk with Chief Shazrak about why it might be denying us. If-"

"No," Nelith interrupted, glaring up at him. "Didn't we just agree that there's no cover out there?"

"Which is why I'm going by myself. Alone I stand the best chance of slipping past the White Horror and reaching Goblintown."

"And what happens when you get there and it's overrun with his spawn? Or you get spotted out in the wastes?"

Fenrir sighed. "Nelith, I can't just sit around here and do nothing."

"But that's exactly what you're telling us to do."

"Yes, because it's my responsibility to protect you."

"How are you supposed to protect us if the White Horror kills you?"

Fenrir sighed again. "He won't."

"You can't promise that. Not if you go out there." Nelith glared harder, partly because he didn't look convinced and partly because glaring made it easier to ignore the terror that was tying her stomach into knots.

"Do you have a better option?" he asked, quietly.

She had no answer for that, and despite her best efforts, her eyes fell before his steady gaze.

"I don't want you to go alone either," a quiet voice spoke up to one side, and they both looked over at Tsavani.

"Me either," Myrina added. She only glanced at them for a second before turning back to watching the alley entrance.

Fenrir looked conflicted, and sensing weakness, Nelith immediately pressed the attack. "See, none of us want you to go!"

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't," he said, but she could tell he wasn't convinced.

"There's got to be a better plan than suicide by ancient dragon," she insisted.

A thought flickered in his eyes which she couldn't quite identify but very much didn't like, then he shrugged. "Okay. Say I don't try to slip past the White Horror and make it to Goblintown. How else are we supposed to get more information on why the cathedral doors won't admit us?"

No one had an answer for that.

Then Tsavani said, "I don't understand something. Lilli said the cloaks we packed can make us hard to notice if we activate the magic woven into them. Why can't we just use that?"

"Because that enchantment really only works on relatively weak beings. Something as powerful as the White Horror would see through it as though it weren't there. In fact, the cloaks' active use of magic might make us even more obvious to him than if we hadn't had them," Fenrir explained.

"Oh." Tsavani subsided.

"We can't just fight him?" This question came from Myrina.

"We fought a young adult dragon in the space of time I erased. He was incapable of flight or using any sort of special abilities. We killed him and all of us survived, but not all of us were entirely unscathed. Or in other words, a young adult dragon without magic was enough to challenge us. Fighting an ancient dragon who has access to both flight and all the magic he has learned over the millennia really would be, as Nelith said, suicide."

Myrina nodded, accepting that without further comment.

"But we don't need to fight him," Nelith interjected. "We just need to get into the cathedral, right?"

Fenrir nodded.

"There's got to be more ways into that big a building than just the front door."

He smiled. As usual, when Nelith saw it, her heart did some very girlish things which she was decidedly too mature to pay any attention to. "If it were a normal cathedral, I'd agree with you," he said. "But the beings who built it may not have had any of the requirements of normal mortals, and why should they have gone to such lengths to secure the main door if you could just slip around to a side door instead?"

"There are the portals," Tsavani pointed out.

"That's true, though there's nothing saying they don't have security of their own. Perhaps they're simply impassable if the Keepers deem them so. After all, despite there being more than thirty different portals, the cathedral was empty every time I've visited it.

"They might be worth trying if we knew how to reach the other end of any of them, but we don't. And even if we did, that involves leaving the city, which in turn means crossing one of the bridges, and there's no cover whatever to be found there. The White Horror would have to be stupid to not at least keep an eye on those."

"Maybe there's more details about the cathedral here in the city," Nelith said. "You know, like a library or something."

"Searching the city for something like that carries its own risks and I'm not convinced we'll find anything, but it does seem like the best plan we have at the moment. It's the least dangerous one, anyway." Fenrir thought for a moment more, then nodded. "Let's do that. We'll find somewhere close by to leave the horse; no sense in dragging her and our supplies all over the city."

They did just that, shouldering light packs filled with food, water, and a bedroll each at Fenrir's insistence. "Better to be prepared," he said. "We might not be able to get back here before we'll need to eat and rest."

He also finally put Nelith down, accepting her teasing about him being a giant worrywart with no more than a quiet smile. She didn't really mean it, of course; just thinking about the situation being reversed and having to watch Fenrir die in front of her put a very uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach, but making a joke out of it made it easier to deal with.

Privately, she had to admit she didn't really know what to do with the knowledge that he cared about her as much as he apparently did. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. At most he was supposed to be somewhat fond of her until she seriously inconvenienced him, and then he was supposed to discard her, without much if any regret.

...Okay, no, she didn't actually expect that from him, not anymore, but it was still difficult to upend everything she had thought she'd known about the nature of people. Powerful people in particular. And there was always that little voice in the back of her head predicting that he would eventually become exactly the kind of person she had feared he was at the beginning. That was ridiculous, and she treated it as such, but it didn't mean the little voice was going to stop saying it.

She looked up at the back of his broad shoulders as he led them along the alley, head up and ears swiveling towards each slight sound. What had the Dark Twins intended by sending him to them? They could have given him far more powerful servants than a bunch of lesser succubi, and there could be no doubt it would have hastened his path to power. But no, he had been given them. And then he had refused to take them as was his prerogative by right of power, but had made them choose for themselves whether they wanted to follow him.

He had used the word followers. Not servants or slaves, but followers. That had always stuck with her. At the time she hadn't been convinced he meant it when he said they were free to leave, but at the same time it hadn't really mattered because he very clearly had been their best chance for survival, even if he were to reveal his true colors and start treating them like slaves.

But he hadn't. Instead he had treated them more like family than anything else. Nelith had barely known what it meant to be treated like family, certainly not enough to put a name to it. It had been Lilli who had put into words what his behavior felt like.

Nelith shook off the thoughts. If he was willing to go to such lengths for her, then she'd be damned if she didn't do her very best to make sure he never stopped thinking it was worth it. She still had no answers for why the Dark Twins had decided her little band of succubi should be his first followers, but squandering it now would just be stupid. So she focused on the search, determined to do her best for him.

Despite what Fenrir had said, they started by scouting the outside of the cathedral to make sure there wasn't any other way in. Blank stone met them on every side, and behind the cathedral the ground dropped away so the nearest terrace was actually a full level below the level of the courtyard in front.

Nelith couldn't help but be disappointed, but Fenrir accepted it with no more than a nod and a "Thought so." Then he turned their attention to scouting the rest of the buildings for anything that resembled a library.

The city was far too big for them to be able to search it in a single afternoon, not that there was anything of the kind here. Fenrir had told them about the lack of a sun, but hearing about it and seeing it were two different things. Nelith was able to ignore it most of the time, but it still kept her more on edge than usual. It just felt wrong, somehow.

Most of the buildings they entered were empty, with only the occasional table, shelf, bench, or other piece of furniture remaining. Everything was always made of either stone or metal, too. "Whoever lived here must have liked being uncomfortable," Nelith muttered after their sixth time encountering nothing but metal and stone furniture inside a building.

Fenrir heard her and laughed. "Safara thought Apollyon may have been created by the Ancient Race. If that's true, this city is likely a hundred thousand years old at the least, possibly much older. The only wonder is that there's anything left at all."

"Magic?" Myrina asked.

"That'd be my guess," Fenrir shrugged. "Of course, this is Apollyon. One hundred thousand years on Ruyanei may not translate to the same amount of time here."

Some buildings were secured against intrusion. Fenrir's party opted against trying too hard to force their way in, considering the Watchers. They hadn't seemed to mind them poking around in the various buildings and alleys, but Fenrir thought that might change if anyone started breaking things, and considering the way they reacted whenever they spotted a dragon, no one was too eager to test the theory.

While paper was nonexistent, every now and then they came upon a mosaic inside one of the many cathedral-like buildings, sometimes on a wall, sometimes on the floor or ceiling. Whenever this happened, Fenrir would pause to thoroughly examine it and would only move on once he was sure there was nothing there that could help.

Naturally, Nelith looked each one over as well, but she had to admit she couldn't make much sense of most of them. Not because they were bad; even to her untrained eye it was obvious they had been created by a master, but because they seemed to be created in some sort of swirling abstract that, while beautiful, made it very difficult to work out exactly what they were supposed to depict. Some included square blocky bits that broke up the swirling patterns in the same way a rock broke a river's current. It was clearly meant to mean something specific, but Nelith had no idea what that could be.

She watched the Chief's face as he scrutinized one of the murals, but whatever he thought about it, it wasn't showing outwardly. She couldn't help but feel that he was getting more out of the mosaics than she was, though. After all, if she'd been alone she would have given up on each new one long before he did.

While she waited for him to finish with the latest one, she examined how it had been made. It was ingenious; thousands of tiny crystalline stones, cut and laid so precisely that she was only able to tell where one ended and the next began because of the change in coloring. And she had to look really closely to even make that out, because the shades had been so carefully chosen that they blended from one to another almost seamlessly.

Now that she was looking, she realized that there was even more detail than that. Where the maker had wanted the picture to be brighter, the stones had been cut to reflect more light, and where they had wanted it darker, the stones were cut to reflect less. There were even stones cut to reflect light into their neighbors, so they seemed to glow from within.

She felt fingers under her chin and realized her mouth had fallen open in amazement. "You don't watch it, you'll start catching flies," Fenrir said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Nelith snapped her mouth shut, heat rushing to her cheeks. "I was just looking at how it was made," she hurried to defend herself. "Just look at the detail!"

"I have been. It's truly astounding," he nodded, looking back at the mosaic. "Whoever made it, the Ancient Race or whoever else, they had mastered their craft and then some. I only wish I knew how to interpret it properly. I think it's telling a story of some kind, but I don't have the context to decipher it."

"What kind of story?" Myrina asked from behind them. She had stopped giving the mosaics more than a cursory glance after about the fifth, choosing instead to watch out for potential dangers.

"I'm not sure," Fenrir replied. He stepped closer, running his fingers across the blocky shapes near the center of the mural. "It's got something to do with this, though. See the way the stream of colors bends around it? I was theorizing that the colors might represent the flow of time or perhaps the will of the gods, which would make these square bits representative of something which is resisting those forces."

He stepped back again, looking over the whole of the mosaic. "But that's only a guess. Without understanding more about the culture which built these, there's really no way to be sure about anything here. The flow of colors could just as easily be mana, or the flow of consciousness, or any number of other things."

Despite not being the one he had been talking to, Nelith nodded, looking back over the mural with a new respect. Now that she thought about it, the colors did feel like they represented some weighty concept like what Fenrir had described. It made her more curious than ever about what it actually meant, but he was right. There was no way to decipher its real meaning with the information they had.

"Well, let's keep moving," Fenrir said, turning away. "I don't think I can glean anything more from this one."

Casting one last glance back at the mosaic, Nelith followed. Despite having been the one to suggest it, she was starting to wonder if this search was even worth the bother. Interesting as the murals were, they weren't getting them any closer to figuring out how to get back home.

It was probably an hour or so later when Fenrir suddenly tensed. "Get under cover, now!"

They obeyed without hesitation, scrambling to get inside a nearby building. "What is it?" Myrina asked. She didn't peek out of the door, but she wanted to judging from the way her eyes kept straying to it.

Fenrir didn't answer immediately. He was standing beside the door, not looking outside, but clearly listening with all his might. "I saw the White Horror."

All of them tensed. "Where?" Nelith asked.

"A couple thousand feet up, seemingly just riding the wind currents, but I suspect he's watching for us. Just after I rewound time, we were spotted by the dragon we fought during the time that was rewound. He didn't chase us this time, but I wouldn't be surprised to find out he'd alerted the White Horror to our presence."

"That's not good," Nelith said, frowning.

Her words made Fenrir huff a breath of amusement, but he quickly banished the laughter. "No, it's not." Stepping into the doorway, he carefully extended his head beyond the threshold, eyes searching the sky. A moment later he stepped back again. "There is a silver lining, though. Now that he's shown himself, I can Target Mark him and keep constant tabs on his position."

"Target Mark?" This came from Tsavani.

"One of my abilities. As long as I can get line of sight on someone, I can mark them for twenty-four hours and know exactly where they are at all times."

"So now we don't have to be so careful while we're looking, right?" Myrina said. She hadn't complained, but Nelith had noticed the impatience she had been trying to contain.

"To a point," Fenrir replied. "There's still his spawn to look out for. They might not be able to kill us, but if they raise a racket they'll alert him to our presence, which is uncomfortably close to being the same thing."

Myrina sighed and sat down on a low table that had probably been a footstool or something once. "Is it even worth keeping looking? Unless they carved it into a rock or something, any records that'd have the information we want would have turned to dust a long time ago. The mosaics we've found are pretty, but none of them seem to be about what we want to know."

To Nelith's surprise, Fenrir sat down beside the amazon. "I've been thinking about that too," he admitted, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the shadowy ceiling. "And even if we did find something, the chances of us being able to decipher it aren't great. The trouble is, the only other plan I have is finding Chief Shazrak, and none of you like the thought of me trying."

"Not the way you intended doing," Nelith said, her hands on her hips. "'Cuz see, I'm not any more eager for you to die than you are for me to, and unlike a certain someone, I can't just rewind time to save you if something goes wrong."

"Neither can I, anymore, but point taken." There was silence for a moment, then he continued, "We do have an edge now, though. I can track the White Horror's movements down to the yard, so if he gives us an opening, I can try to reach the goblins without incurring too much risk."

"We," Tsavani stated, sitting down on Fenrir's other side and wrapping her arm around his rather possessively. It was actually really cute, Nelith thought to herself.

She didn't dwell on it, though, because he was making the face he made whenever he had to consider options, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what it was he was deciding. "I can carry one of you just fine, maybe two, but three would tax me too much to carry over the distance we'd need to go, especially considering the environment we'd be traversing."

Myrina looked up. "I can run."

"For fifty-plus miles? And with strength to fight at the end of it?"

She hesitated for half a breath, then nodded. "I won't slow you down."

Fenrir evaluated her for a few seconds. Nelith noticed she met his gaze almost defiantly, as though she was ready to take offense if he doubted her, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded. "We'll have to move slower anyway if I'm carrying two, and either you're all coming along, or none of you are."

"Why don't we just take Allie and have her carry me and Tsavani?" Nelith asked, relaxing a little now that it looked as though Fenrir was committed to taking them all with him.

"She could carry one of you, yes, but that'd also mean more water to carry, and the environment of the wastes will be even more taxing for such a large animal than it will be for us. Then there's the problem of what we'll do with her once we reach our destination. There's nearly certain to be at least a few dragons staking out the entrance, and I wouldn't be surprised to find all-out war there. No horse is fitting through the tunnel into Goblintown, so we'd either be dooming her to die in the wastes or serving her up as dinner to one or more hungry dragons."

"Yeah, good point," Nelith nodded.

"First things first, let's head back to where we left her and make sure she's set up to survive a few days here alone. It'll cut into our trading supplies, but so be it. Then we can head to a spot near the edge of the city where we'll be ready to make our move if the White Horror gives us the opportunity."

"And if he doesn't?" This question came from Myrina.

Fenrir shrugged. "Then we come up with another plan."

Not too much going on in this one, just Fenrir and co. trying to decide what they ought to do now that the avenue back to Ruyanei has been blocked off. We do get Nelith's perspective, though, and thus some of her thoughts regarding Fenrir, which is always fun to write. Also a few more hints about the original inhabitants of this dead city.
Next chapter things should heat up a bit, though. Speaking of, what do you think Fenrir's party ought to do in this situation? Or put another way, what would you do in their shoes?
Enjoy!