Chapter 232: Moving Past (Patreon)

Argrave once again felt the familiar sensation of being trapped within something that was in motion. It had been a long while since he last had the experience—the movement of the living fortress was so smooth, it could be likened to travelling on a train or a car.

Hegazar, Anneliese, Argrave, and Durran held their hands to the fleshy apparatus in the back of the room, siphoning their magic into the vast fortress. It had been given a command—go 3.2 furlongs directly north—and it would use their magic until it needed it no longer.

It felt like much of the tension had been dissolved, yet the budding nervousness of his eventual meeting with Princess Elenore was replacing it by the second.

The rumbling sensation of movement beneath their feet ended, and Argrave felt the pull of his magic end. Hegazar was the first to retract his hand.

“Looks like we made it,” Argrave said, shaking his hand off. He didn’t like the sensation of touching that thing at all. “It seems this was a worthwhile endeavor for all.”

“I wonder what Vera must be thinking,” the Magister mused, reaching down. He pulled free the ear key, and the door behind them slammed shut. “Well, it’s no matter. Time is of the essence. Collect all that I promised you, and let’s be off.”

“What will you do to her?” Anneliese questioned.

Hegazar put the ear key into the slot closer to the door and stopped, turning his head back to Anneliese.

“What business is it of yours?” He questioned, tone passive.

Anneliese shrugged and walked forwards. “I am merely curious.”

“She has many friends. I am not sure what I will do,” Hegazar shook his head. “It requires deliberation.”

“I thought you’d kill her immediately,” Durran looked impressed.

Hegazar shook his head. “Violence is for savages. I can get more from her alive than dead. I just need to decide what state I’d like her alive in. A captive? Who knows…” he let out a long, almost sad sigh. “She had opportunities to kill me in the past, too. She didn’t take them.”

As Argrave pondered what the Magister was getting at, he spoke the key phrase for the door and it slid open. He walked out with a confident step.

#####

Their group had hauled out a great many things from the depths of the vaults, and all of it resided in the heart chamber. It was a great mound of enchanted items of varying value. Though Argrave would have been satisfied with the set of bronze jewelry he came here to get, he definitely would not protest to acquiring more valuable enchanting items. He’d have a very adept broker to sell them off to in short order, too.

Galamon offloaded what few books and such he held to Argrave, Anneliese, and Galamon, and then stuffed everything within rather ungracefully. The more delicate stuff was wrapped, but altogether his backpack became a misshapen mass of valuables and Order of the Rose books. He had a king’s ransom in his backpack. Altogether, an extremely profitable venture. It wasn’t a flawless trip, but it was the best Argrave could scrape together sandwiched between two S-rank mages.

They departed from the living fortress just after that. Hegazar left with them. Once they reached the entrance, the stone tongue folded out for them, and into a vast network of tunnels: the abandoned sewers beneath Dirracha.

The tunnels were extremely narrow and simple. The floor was naturally eroded stone caused by the still-active waterways, while the area above was brown stone that was nothing more than a ceiling to prevent the smell of the wastewater from reaching the city streets. The newer city had been built atop this place, with new sewers that better utilized waste for fertilizer. Considering this place was a natural stream originally, the years had mostly purged any smell or sign this had been a sewer at all.

The confines of the living fortress offered more room to stretch than this place, though, and Argrave found himself ducking just to stand. “You’re sure… there’s a way out?” Hegazar looked around.

Argrave nodded. “Yeah. Just follow the stream down. Exit won’t be far. It drains off into a lake. It’s a relatively secluded place—just a few fishing towns. Forest should shield you from prying eyes. Well, not that prying eyes matter for an illusionist.”

“And, eh… no, never mind. I’m leaving, then. This was… a more profitable trip than I thought it might be. You have potential. I suppose the two of you do, however long this thing lasts,” Hegazar scanned Anneliese and Argrave. “Enjoy the honeymoon phase. That’s all you can enjoy, before it all turns to shit.”

“Good luck, Hegazar,” Argrave said simply, disregarding the petty jabs entirely.

The illusionist turned and walked down into the lower portions of the sewer tunnel, moving quickly and steadily without another word.

“Good gods,” Durran sighed, setting his glaive firmly on the ground and leaning on it. “This was an endeavor and a half.”

“A prelude, nothing more,” Argrave shook his head. “But I’ll be damned if it wasn’t a damn draining one.”

“Do we rest?” Anneliese questioned, looking ahead into the tunnel. She cast some light ahead.

Argrave stepped forward, ducking his head as he advanced. “Not for long. Meeting Elenore is our top priority. Once we get things settled with her… we’ll have true mobility.”

Durran picked up his glaive, tapping it against the ground so that it echoed throughout the tunnel. “How scary is this sister of yours that all of this can be considered a prelude?”

Argrave rubbed his hands together. “She’s harmless. She doesn’t even have any guards. But I’m more worried about this than meeting Orion or Induen.” Argrave surveyed his party. “Excellent work, everyone. We’ll take a small break, then proceed.”

His gaze lingered on Anneliese for a long moment. She got the message, and as the other two settled in, she walked towards him.

#####

“This turned out… okay,” Argrave nodded, staring at the rushing stream at their feet. The both of them sat just beside their backpacks, a fair distance away from Durran and Galamon.

Anneliese looked to Argrave. “You will not fret that things did not end perfectly?”

Argrave chuckled. “No one died. Galamon got hurt the most. I don’t know,” Argrave shook his head. “Ever since Induen died, things have felt less… apocryphal. I still feel rushed, stressed, but I think… I think I can do this. It’s starting to feel like I can do this. I’m still paranoid as all hell about what might go wrong, but it’s different, now.”

“I am glad,” Anneliese said sincerely.

Argrave let a silence hang. “Looks like my advice helped you out,” he finally said. “Certainly had no trouble playing that part.”

Anneliese laughed quietly and leaned against Argrave’s shoulder. “Yes, it did.”

“I ought to be careful,” Argrave mused jokingly. “Soon enough, you’ll do everything I can, and then I’ll just flounder about uselessly in the back while you save the world alone.”

“I do not think I could,” she shook her head.

Argrave watched the water pass them by, then finally decided to bring up the things that were truly sticking in his mind. “I didn’t realize those things bothered you,” he said.

“…to a lesser degree than I dramatized. But yes. They did,” she confessed in a quiet whisper.

“Ending up sympathizing with Hegazar more than I thought I ever would,” Argrave responded quietly, putting one hand to her head. “I can see why he’s bitter. Hurt. Paranoid. I don’t want to make those same mistakes. If I did something wrong, I want to fix it. Permanently, ideally.”

“I am happy, you know,” Anneliese shifted her head to look at him better. “Everyone has something that annoys the other. The engagement caught me off balance, at first… and I still believe it is detrimental, practically speaking… but it gives me a lot of comfort. Above all… I know you well, and I trust you enough to respect the actions you take that we disagree on. We cannot be compared to Hegazar and Vera. From the beginning, both saw each other as tools. Hegazar sought to groom a young Wizard into a perfect partner. Vera sought to use a senior to rise in the ranks.”

Argrave looked at the rushing water for a long while, biting at his lip. “I guess they were perfect for each other.”

Anneliese let out a quiet grunt of agreement.

“Going to rely on you heavily with Elenore,” he brought back the matter at hand.

“Keeping watch on her emotions?” Anneliese lifted her head, alert.

Argrave nodded. “Yeah. This isn’t something we can afford to mess up. Elenore… she’s apathetic. I can’t deny she’s done a lot wrong, but there’s good in her. Just needs a positive influence, some basic human decency in her life. In Dirracha, human decency is a delicacy that people like Induen and Felipe like to eat alive. I think our blood relation might hinder things instead of help them. Nevertheless… the hell can I do?”

“Make contingencies, plans,” Anneliese advised at once.

“Let’s make them,” Argrave rose to his feet. “Plenty of time, anyway.”

#####

Princess Elenore was, by threat of execution, confined to her greenhouse on the distant outskirts of the Dragon Palace. She was not deterred by this. Over the years, she built several hidden passages to accommodate her burgeoning empire of business and information. They were dually for her personal use and to allow passage to people who could not freely roam the Dragon Palace. The fact she was able to do this beneath the king’s eye was already testament to her considerable influence and skill. Few knew of them, even her most trusted aides. And one of them… it was here, in this abandoned sewer.

After their short rest and strategy meeting, Anneliese scouted ahead to be sure none were coming. After finding no passengers, the four of them proceeded up into the abandoned tunnel, walking against the stream. At points it grew wider, forcing some difficult maneuvers, yet it was a rather uneventful hike over the slippery rock.

At a point, they came to a sheer cliff wall. The stream trickled down in a small waterfall, battering them with water. Argrave ran his hand along the wall, searching unsuccessfully. Durran stepped forth with furrowed brows and pushed a point—it slid in. With a loud click, a portion of the wall behind the waterfall loosened. Though not opening automatically, it did unlock. Argrave pushed it open and ducked through. His Brumesingers shook their fur out after they passed.

After Anneliese scouted the newly opened path, they proceeded once more. It was a tight and confined space, even more so than the shoddy sewers, and crudely dug. Eventually, it came to a very long flight of steep stairs. Their party climbed them quietly, well used to treacherous paths by this point.

At the top, a thin slab of impeccable stone bricks blocked their path. Argrave turned to Galamon, gesturing. The elven vampire gave a count—one. That meant whoever was up there presently was alone. He couldn’t be sure it was Elenore, though. This was certainly where she usually was, yet...

Deciding it was a gamble worth taking, Argrave gave a nod, scanning everyone to be sure they were prepared. To show sincerity to Elenore, Argrave intended to bring everyone.

Argrave pushed up on the stone slab above. It was a heavy thing, and he hefted it aside.

“Who is it?” a familiar female voice greeted him as lifted the rock. “This isn’t on the schedule.”

Argrave climbed up, taking a look around the verdant greenhouse. A wave of nostalgia rushed over him as he recognized the many plants around… and the green-dressed person sitting at a pink table beside the fountain. She was thin, with long obsidian black hair identical to his own.

“Hello, Elenore,” Argrave said levelly, rising to his feet and glancing about. True to Galamon’s words, no one was present. “This place looks beautiful as usual.”

“I don’t recognize your voice,” she said tensely, putting her hands on the arms of her wheelchair.

“It’s Argrave,” he greeted. “I’d like to talk. It’s rather important, so I hope you can forgive the rude entrance.”