Interlude 6: The Liar's Club

The flurry of activity that had resembled an ant colony a day before had abated, leaving the barrier erected around an unused warehouse looking much the same inside as out. A lone figure marched through the empty space, her heels echoing with sharp taps as she ventured towards the back of the building.

Her pale pink hair was done up in a ponytail that swayed in time with her steps, a pair of sunglasses pushing her bangs away from her stern face. Clenched in one hand was a cane with a serpent motif, its silver body coiled down the length, its head serving as the handle.

The woman came to a room nestled in the far corner of the building, its open door revealing a man in a simple suit staring at one of its walls, a book held in one hand.

“I would have thought a man as paranoid as you wouldn’t be within twenty miles of this place,” the woman said as she leaned against the doorframe.

“It isn’t paranoia, Flora,” the man retorted, turning to face the blood mage, his plain features hiding whatever emotion he may be feeling. He adjusted his thick rimmed glasses with his free hand. “Merely being precautious. There are many that do not tolerate our methods, as you are well aware. Or our goal.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Flora shot back, her tone growing annoyed. “It was your protocol that had us uproot. Not a bad idea with what happened, but I hear from Simon that you were coming back here. Doesn’t sound like you, Arthur.”

“And you think that means there’s something going on then,” Arthur said, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Your instincts do you credit. I wished to speak and who would think to look in our old base?”

“The Order comes to mind,” Flora tersely remarked. “It’s obvious that the kid Bill failed to kill contacted them in some way.”

“Yes, but it’s also clear that they are running around without much direction,” Arthur pointed out in a calm voice. “If they knew where we were, the strike would have come down by now, backed by righteous fury. Our relocation is a mere matter of precaution.”

Flora stared at Arthur for a moment before saying, “Why are you so calm about this? You hate when things deviate from your plans.”

“Where was this questioning when I allowed Bill to carry out his vendetta?” Arthur asked. “Even with the Latebloomer’s apparent scrying ability, I doubt he could have gleaned anything that could properly lead back to us. The fact that the Order didn’t begin to move about until Thursday makes me think they only stumbled upon our footprints by chance. If they had started Monday or Tuesday, we could chalk it up to the Order picking up the Latebloomer. But later? No, their action is more of a coincidence, I think.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Flora pressed, her hand tightening around the cane.

Arthur let out a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s hard to put into words but I feel like our plans have taken on a life of their own and march towards the end we’ve worked for. But do not think that I am becoming some kind of fanatic. I know there are still hurdles to overcome. As for why we’re risking a meeting here, I need to talk to you about what we both experienced yesterday in greater detail.”

“Why all the cloak and dagger over this?” Flora asked. “Everyone, well the ones that matter at least, knows we made contact with something on the other side.”

“Yes, but we’ve both kept some details to ourselves, haven’t we?” Arthur asked in a completely calm tone.

Flora’s grip on the cane grew even tighter, her knuckles turning white, and her other hand began to inch towards it. Heat began to emanate from it, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Please, we both know our plans can’t progress without both of us,” Arthur remarked, putting up a placating hand. “And it isn’t like we’ve kept some of the more crucial details to ourselves. And I am far from capable when it comes to fighting.”

“No, you just find ways to make sure a fight never has to directly involve you,” Flora retorted, her posture still tense. “You could have made it clear there was more you wanted to talk about.”

“The same could be said of you,” Arthur pointed out in a tone that rankled Flora. “However, given the circumstances that followed, I can overlook both of us keeping things close to the chest.”

Flora let out a breath and **** herself to relax slightly. The heat from the cane faded slightly, reducing from close to untouchable to just warm, the beating pulse weakening as well.

“There’s not much to tell,” Flora said, her eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t exactly some lecture on what was going on. Flashes of battles, something to do with pillars. The most interesting part was seeing the sword stab into whoever I was seeing through. Didn’t seem like it actually hurt ‘em. Pretty much stuff we already knew.”

Arthur let out a small hum, his lips turning into a slight smile. “I can see why you didn’t think much about sharing. It would seem that I got more out of the encounter.”

“And what revelations did you get?” Flora hotly asked, annoyed at how Arthur was drawing things out. And at how she had been played by him into this meeting in the first place. He always had to have the upper hand.

“Those pillars. Or rather, one in particular,” Arthur said, his voice far away, like he was reminiscing on something nostalgic. “The one in that chamber. It was glowing with power. The power we’re seeking. I saw what it is. From what that power stems from.”

“Is now really the time to be cryptic?” Flora spat.

“I suppose it isn’t,” the leader of Phantom Reach admitted. “Forgive me, I seem to still be somewhat awed by the whole event. It isn’t everyday that someone like me gets a taste of power like that.”

“You felt it?” Flora asked, her anger quickly dissipating as incredible curiosity overtook her mind.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t,” Arthur said, his eyes appearing to gaze out to something far away. “But there is so much we don’t know about the mechanism of mental magics, even before factoring in god derived powers. Perhaps I simply had the right mindset at the time to perceive it. Or maybe, a connection between that elven prince and I. The story went he craved power, yes?”

“From what I was able to gather, yes,” Flora replied. “Harker didn’t give anything up about it. I had to dig things up and what I did find wasn’t a full on biography. Just a few old pages talking about how someone fell to what they were meant to safeguard and having to deal with it.”

“The allure of power,” Arthur muttered. “I would bet on that being the link between us. But whatever the reason, I saw the power. It was vast, but there was a sort of outside **** pushing against it. I think there may be a power native to that Kingdom that is fighting it. Perhaps that is why the ones that forged the blade settled for containment over ****."

"Let two comparable powers dish it out," Flora muttered, considering the idea. "Even if the elf won, the expenditure of power would leave him unable to fight against the binding."

"And it seems to be a fight ongoing," Arthur added. "Fate, it seems, is stacking the deck for us. We cut through the binding, and while the final battle takes place, we procure the power for ourselves."

"Fate has," Flora began before a ripple from the blade demanded her attention. It had felt like the snapping of a rubber band and it wasn't the first time she had experienced it in the last two days.

"Kiera's connection to the blade just snapped," she reported, causing a look of confusion to cross Arthur's face.

"That's a bit surprising," he said. "I wouldn't have expected them to take that course of action."

"One of them is someone we failed to take out," Flora reminded Arthur, a bitter note to her voice. “Three times in fact. Might have had enough.”

Arthur nodded, though it was hesitant. He opened the book he carried and flicked through some of the pages, his eyes narrowed.

“Perhaps. I can’t see the young man doing it. Even a week in the Abyss isn’t enough to scrape away the naive notions of the mundane world. At least we have the assurance that she did not reveal anything.”

“At least there’s that,” Flora muttered, shaking her head. “But we really shouldn’t hang around here much longer. Unless there’s more you want to tell me?”

“I suppose there isn’t,” Arthur answered, gently closing his book. “Although, should either of us come across information or insight that would be valuable to our goals, we should endeavor to share it promptly. Agreeable?”

Flora nodded as Arthur gestured for her leave. She led the way back out towards the entrance of the barrier, Arthur a step behind her. She caught him pulling a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket, opening it after tucking his book under his arm. She managed to see a complex series of symbols drawn into each quadrant of the paper, with thick lines running through the creases that connected all of them together.

Arthur dropped the page down after tracing some of the lines right before they reached the exit.

“It would be best if we didn’t linger,” he said in a somewhat hurried tone as he slipped out of the barrier.

Flora followed a second after and asked, “And just what was that? I thought we were trying to not keep secrets.”

“It’s merely something to hasten the collapse of the barrier,” Arthur replied.

A second later, Flora felt a sort of pull behind her, like there was a sudden vacuum. Only instead of air, it was a void in the natural mana in the area, detectable only to those with magic. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence when a barrier failed and vanished into nothingness, though it felt somewhat stronger than what she was used to.

“Handy,” Flora said, wondering how long he had had that prepared. And if it was something that could collapse a barrier while people were still in it.

The chilled air was a pleasant contrast to the stuffy lab as Helmas Gelous strode through the streets of the capital’s High District towards the central tower.

“It has been some time since we all have been summoned,” he thought aloud, not that any would overhear him this late at night. Or would dare to try and use his words against him.

Thinking of time, Helmas’ mind drifted back to when the stone and metal around him were trees and plants, grown by the Tree-Shapers. He idly scratched at one of his fingers, the vague memory of a ring once sitting there. He found himself tracing the carvings that decorated the buildings as he walked down the cobbled street, decorations that mimicked vines and branches.

“Why do we emulate the features we advanced beyond?” he wondered. It was an odd line of thought he found himself on, but one he knew why it had invaded his thoughts. He sighed, “This is why I avoid taking part in culling missions. Can’t excise the memories, so it’s best for them to fade naturally. Which our given power makes very difficult.”

Helmas sighed as he walked past a building with wide windows. For a moment, he saw his reflection as he had been, so much like everyone else he knew. Skin lightly tanned from days tending the trees, long amber hair kept tied back which showed off his pointed ears. He blinked and saw his reflection as it really was.

His body had grown longer since then, standing more than a head taller than he had. The same could be said of his arms, stretched longer to keep his proportions in line. Tan skin was now pale, almost white with patches of snake-like scales running down his arms and over his face. His hair was long gone, leaving only his ears largely untouched by the transformations he had undergone over the course of his long life.

He found himself staring at the small, flat bits of metal that adorned his exposed forearms. They itched sometimes, but that was a small price to pay for power.

Helmas shook his head. “My mind is wandering something fierce today. I suppose that tantalizing experience has left me a bit off balance. I wonder if that’s the reason for the meeting?”

He continued his journey to the central tower, that marvel of engineering that rose high above everything else. Perfectly fitting for the one who called it his home. The large wooden doors opened at his approach to the grand entryway, moved by servants within. Helmas paused inside the lavish foyer as they closed the door. Not to take in the statues and paintings nor to admire the architecture but to examine the two servants.

The pair were close to identical and remained passive as Helmas pawed at them, tipping their heads back and forth. They didn’t react to his actions, merely staring back through half-lidded eyes.

“Hmm, it seems the new excising process is holding up,” he muttered before pulling on one of their ears. The servant showed no reaction to the sharp tug and Helmas let out a chuckle. “Pain reaction remains properly dulled. And their complexion has held up rather well. How long ago did we make these? Ten, twelve years? I’ll have to remember to check around the fifteen year mark, just to be safe, but I think twenty year life span. Might reach twenty-two.”

Helmas let go of them and marched his way to the sole way up to the top chamber, a circular room straight back from the door. An elaborate pattern was inlaid upon the marble floor in gleaming silver, contained within a circle. He walked into the center of it and said in a firm voice, “Shin-ya.”

Upward **** began to lift his thin figure and Helmas flew upwards. He picked up speed as he ascended, glyphs along the walls illuminating his way. As he neared the top, he slowed and gently floated above the rim of the upper opening. He pitched downward at a slight angle and landed slightly away from the edge of the rim.

The chamber was expansive but bare, dominated by a large pillar of black stone and wide windows that opened to give a full view of the city below. A somewhat ornate throne sat at the foot of the pillar upon a dias, positioned so one could look out to the east. And sat in it was the Glorious One.

Even seated one could tell he was tall, taller than even Helmas. He wore a robe of red and silver with golden trim. The front was open enough for his leader’s chest to be seen, exposing the heads of the nails that pierced him, at least three on each side. Seeing them caused his own to itch slightly as they always did and Helmas averted his gaze.

In front of the throne, two others knelt before their lord. One was thick of muscle, his bare arms studded with more piercings than he bore and a short blade hung from his waist. The other was a few degrees less bulky and his flowing robes, deep gray and black, hid any piercings.

“Ah, Helmas,” a gentle voice soothingly wafted from the throne, prompting the two kneeling to turn their heads towards him. “You’re a touch early.”

Helmas dropped to his knee and hung his head low. “My apologies, O Glorious One. My steps were faster than I anticipated.”

With his head down, he was safe to smile. He knew Folmes and Arltok would be in conference first; it was the way things had been done even before they won their victories. As the head commander of all the military forces and chief general on the field, they always were called together. Then he would have a one on one meeting to discuss the magical side of the armed forces. Among other things.

“I did issue the summons,” their leader said in a calm voice. “And we were just about done with our meeting. Folmes, Arltok, I trust you will make things ready in time?”

“Of course, my lord,” Folmes answered, his raspy voice barely hiding a note of annoyance. Arltok let out a grunt and Helmas assumed a sharp nod accompanied it. He remained in his reverent position as the two rose, issued the customary phrases of respectful parting and moved to the exit.

Helmas kept his head down as they passed, imagining them with clenched fists and tight jaws. Once he felt the magic of the lift take them down, he rose and made his way to the place they had vacated, keeping his gaze lowered until he knelt down once more.

“What would you have of me, Glorious One?” he implored.

For a long moment, the ruler remained quiet. Then he asked, “Did you see the trees when you saw through that human’s eyes?”

Helmas answered truthfully, “I did, for a moment. He was already dying when I took possession.”

“His being was entwined with the blade that wounded me,” the elven king said, a hand idly moving to touch his chest, a finger running down a long healed patch of skin. “Somehow, the confluence of powers allowed the human to touch the power of the reservoir. It empowered him but at the cost of his body. He was not prepared for the power and used it poorly.”

“And what should we make of Yerda reaching out?” Helmas asked. “She held no connection to that event or your power.”

“You forget she and I are in an endless struggle for control of the Kingdom,” the lord said. “She was long entrenched as the core. Even if I control most of the land and have left her crippled, her continued existence prevents me from gaining true domination. And the intermingling of our powers seems to have let her reach out as we did. Two of her adherents did intrude in my investigation of the humans.”

The lord let out a breath. “I have instructed Folmes and Arltok to ready for another culling.”

“So soon?” Helmas inquired. “It has only been around seventy-five years since the last.”

“This isn’t to refresh our source of chattel,” the lord said. “The time is right for us to deliver the final strike. Whoever holds the blade is working to undo the binding. And they crave the power that has let us ascend to these heights.”

He stood and walked down from the dias his throne sat on, his robes tailing after him. He glided to the window directly opposite the throne and pillar. Only once Helmas was certain his lord had stopped did the mage turn in the same direction.

“The season grows short, my friend,” the elven king said in a weighty voice, one that carried the long centuries they had lived. “Our long enemy is likely aware that outsiders are trying to break the seal and just as likely are readying some action to use these interlopers to tip things back in their favor. So, we must crush them before the seal is broken.”

“I see,” Helmas said, his voice reflecting his spinning thoughts. “Yes. Best to make it just us versus them. Limit the variables as much as possible. I presume that was what you ordered Folmes and Arltok.”

“Indeed.”

“What is it you need me to do, my lord?” Helmas asked.

The lord turned and smiled, his regal features spreading into a predatory look.

“Resume your research on the magics of that blade and the binding,” he ordered. “We need to be ready to counter them.”

“And we need to be ready to use it to undo the curse laid upon me.”

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