Chapter 47. Zukal'iss (Patreon)

Three hours later, the trio had eaten a late dinner and were dressed in simple, dry vestments. As it was already late, they decided to stay at an inn rather than calling a hovergloss. Though Yivyiv was a small, remote town, they found an inn without much difficulty and settled in for the night, Aunt Julia paying for a room to share. Ian resigned himself to sleeping on the room’s couch, while Mother and Aunt Julia each had a small, thin bed to themselves.

They got up in the morning, ate a quiet breakfast, and proceeded to the hovergloss terminal to hail a ride to Zukal’iss. The public hovergloss infrastructure in the SPU was above expectations, providing a direct line to the capital even from a faraway town as Yivyiv.

The terminal was a simple covered platform. According to a map spread across the terminal wall, Yivyiv was the end of the line; the only direction away from it was South, toward the capital. As a hovergloss was ready when they arrived, they only needed to pay the entrance fee with Mother’s new glossY and walk inside. As they all took their seats, Aunt Julia leaned over the hovergloss dashboard and selected their destination.

Approximately five hours and over 350 miles later, they arrived outside of Zukal’iss.

“Why not just take the hovergloss in?” Aunt Julia asked. “Why bother walking through the city gates?”

Ian frowned. “Just being cautious.” He knew that Euryphel would likely be able to discern that he was seeking the other out, if Ian properly understood how his arrows of fate operated. So long as there was destiny to be had between the two of them, the Crown Prime would know. That was what Euryphel had told him, anyway. The reason for walking, though? To give the prince time to decide what to do, rather than forcing him to take a potentially drastic response.

“It’s just a thirty minute walk,” Mother said. “Stop talking and get moving.” As had slowly become the norm, she took point in leading us into the city’s limits.

Ian closed his eyes, re-familiarizing himself with the sounds, smells, and vitality of the city. All were more intense than he remembered. In the distance, he could barely make out the towering spire of Ichormai–the Palace of Fortitude–peeking out just above the city’s numerous high rises.

If Pardin was a city of refined sophistication, Zukal’iss was a city of proud opulence. Unlike Pardin’s aesthetic of sharp lines and sleek glass, Zukal’iss was a city of spiraling spires and arching domes. It had an older feel to it, but not to the extent of Yivyiv. Notably, the architecture of the capital was completely distinct from the provincial town, reminding Ian of older architecture he’d seen in Selejo. The city was intensely colorful, with tapestries hanging off the sides of buildings and various kinds of patterned cloth draped about clothes lines. Street vendors hawked their wares on every corner, and numerous restaurants were open on the street, with pedestrians passing dangerously close to dining customers.

“Keep your eyes open,” Aunt Julia snapped, her voice low. Ian opened his eyes with a start. “You know, for someone who supposedly spent four years in a dilation chamber, you’re awfully inexperienced.”

Ian’s brow twitched at the insult. He didn’t deem it worthy of a reply, but he did keep his eyes open, even if doing so was mildly overwhelming as they entered the city.

Aunt Julia yawned. “I’m still a bit out of sorts with the time change,” she admitted. “Didn’t sleep too well last night.”

Mother nodded solemnly. “There’s only a two hour difference from here and Shattradan. Where did you last come from, Sussea?”

“Western Koro, actually. It’s a five hour time difference. While I have means to keep myself awake and alert, I’d rather get restful sleep.”

Ian largely ignored the two women as they chatted about the people, the weather, and their exhaustion. He particularly ignored them when they brought up the state of their cold, aching bones after a long and arduous ride across the Bay of Ramsay.

As they turned onto a main thoroughfare, Ian paused for a moment, cocking his head. “I’ve been here before,” he finally remarked. They were standing outside of the city’s famous bath house. Seeing something familiar made the loop suddenly feel more real. He liked to see that the places and experiences he’d had within it were founded in reality.

After wandering for a time, Ian detected the approach of five practitioners. After his experience in Pardin and traveling with both Mother and Aunt Julia, Ian had concluded that it was easier to discern practitioners from regs outside of the loop. He surmised it might be because the dilation chamber was unable to perfectly represent the intricacies of energy flow within the body. If he gained experience working with more practitioners, he thought he might even be able to discern what kind of affinities people had.

“Julian,” Aunt Julia said, grasping his arm. “They’ve approached.”

He nodded. “I told you they would.”

She gave him a look. “You’re just planning to let them take us?”

Ian shrugged. “Do you have a better idea?”

Aunt Julia looked at Mother. “No. I just sure hope that this friend of yours will be able to find someone to break the oath Iolana took. Ideally, before it takes effect.”

“We still should have two more days, if I read the fine print correctly,” Mother added.

“I can’t promise anything,” Ian said, sighing. “Why are they being so hesitant?” he murmured, staring out into the crowd, impatiently waiting for the guardsmen to act. “Aunt Julia, any suggestions?”

“Well,” she began. “They’re clearly here for you. I can see them clustered around us, though it’s a bit difficult for me to keep them in my sights for long,” she snorted.

“You’re just bitter my range is larger than yours,” Ian chuckled, referring to their shared ability to sense vitality. “I doubt you’d switch places with me if you could.”

Aunt Julia nodded. “Of course I wouldn’t. I’m too old for such a headache.”

Ian chuckled. “You know...you two are different from how I remember.”

The women shared a dubious look. But before they could respond, a member of the Guard tapped Ian on the shoulder, giving him a shock: He’d seemingly appeared in the blink of an eye.

“I’m going to have to insist that you come with us,” the guardsman said, his voice gruff.

Ian nodded. “Very well.”

The guardsman seemed a bit taken aback by his casual reply. “You’re not going to ask why I’ve come?”

Ian shook his head. “Lead us to wherever.”

The guardsman snorted, his lips curving up into a faint smile. He looked like he wanted to say something, but held his tongue as he led the three of them to the side of the crowd. Two other guardsmen joined them, each taking the initiative to escort a woman by the arm. The party of six eventually came to stand outside an unremarkable, worn door in a narrow alleyway.

At this point, another guard came forward, noiselessly appearing from the shadows; he walked up to the door and gave it three loud, sharp knocks. The door swung open into a familiar hallway.

Ian suppressed a smile and followed the guardsmen into the servant’s passage, stepping lithely over a discarded washtowel. Both Mother and Aunt Julia remained fairly calm and focused, with Aunt Julia in particular studying everything with great intensity, as though trying to solve a challenging problem in her head.

“We will be taking the madams to a parlor for the time being,” the seventh guardsman said. He then nodded to the guardsman leading Ian.

“And I’ll be taking you to see someone special,” Ian’s guardsman said.

Aunt Julia and Mother shot him complicated looks, but went along with the other guards without saying a word. Ian followed the sole remaining guard down a different passageway until they arrived at a door with a dead rat nailed to it.

“It’s a tradition of the help,” he explained, answering the unspoken question. “It’s supposed to scare away vermin.”

Well, it sure isn’t working, Ian chuckled internally. Ichormai was full of mice and rats, not to mention cockroaches and termites. Whatever esteemed ancestor set up the transport array system on the doors, they might have also found it wise to invest in proper anti-vermin arrays. 

The guardsman moved to knock on the door, his hand ducking to the side of the hanging rodent, but before he contacted the wood, the door swung open.

“Urstes, leave us,” a familiar voice called out.

The guardsman’s expression became strange, but he bowed his head. “Through the door you go,” he said.

Ian smiled politely and stepped into the threshold. As the door closed behind him, he heard the spirited cheeping of parakeets, along with sounds of splashing and the rapid fluttering of wings. Stepping forward into the sun room, he was accosted by a strong feeling of déjà vu. The same tapestries were up on the wall, and the same old, almost-grungy divan lay just before the large bay window at the back end of the chamber. Harsh sunlight streamed into the room, highlighting dancing of motes of dust.

On the divan lay a familiar figure, his face in shadowy profile, one clear, intelligent eye inspecting him from across the room. He had the strange impression that the lone eye was trying to devour him.

Euryphel turned his head, now revealing his entire visage. His blond hair was tied up in a messy bun, though a few shorter strands of bangs hung around his face. His mouth was pressed into a firm, contemplative line.

Ian walked forward toward the divan. As he did so, Euryphel continued to stare at him with marked intensity, even more intensely than Aunt Julia had regarded the palace.

I wonder what you’re seeing, Ian thought. He figured that Euryphel was experiencing numerous divergent future paths, exercising his Regret affinity to its limit. He wondered what kinds of things Euryphel was doing to cause the scenarios to diverge. Likely asking him odd questions, or attacking him. Possibly even threatening him. Whatever he could think of to test Ian’s limits.

The longer Euryphel stared at him, the more intense his stare became. After a full minute, Ian awkwardly felt as though Euryphel was practically trying to see through his clothes, his eyes like menacing x-rays. After two minutes, Euryphel reminded Ian of a coiled snake, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation, his expression unsightly.

Ian scratched his head. This wasn’t how I imagined this going. He wondered if he should say something...

“Don’t,” a voice called out softly, devoid of emotion. “Don’t. Say. Anything.”

Ian nodded and continued to stand in place. The meeting was far more awkward than he’d imagined it, but he supposed it was still going fine. 

Another minute passed before Euryphel snorted, breaking the silence. Then, the prince started to laugh.

“Ignatius, Julian, Dunai,” he said, putting space between each word. “You are the most fascinating creature I’ve met.”

Ian smirked. “Most fascinating” felt like a sure step up from “the loneliest.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet the Crowned Prime,” he replied.

“I’m going to be frank and say that I don’t understand why you’re here,” the prince said suddenly, his lips curling up into a small smile. “But you don’t seem to mean me any harm.” He covered his jaw with his hand. “It’s a welcome surprise.”

Ian shrugged.

“You know me, but I don’t know you.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. “I’ve gleaned some things, but there’s a limit to how much information I can draw out. Your name is Ignatius Julian Dunai, but you prefer to be called by Ian. You’re from Shattradan, Solar province. You came here with your mother and your aunt, fleeing Selejo. I–” the prince stopped, blinking. Ian had the impression that he was looking into the future again.

Euryphel suddenly looked away, outside the window. What he saw beyond the blinding light, Ian had no idea. His eyes returned to Ian a moment later.

“I think I understand your situation,” he said slowly, his fingers starting to trace a pattern on the divan’s cloth. “You’re that decemancer from the latest Infinity Loop experiment, isn’t that right?”

Ian’s brows furrowed. “You know about the Infinity Loop?” he asked. He didn’t see the point in denying Euryphel’s guess.

“Of course I know about the Infinity Loop. Any practitioner worth their salt has had their eyes on the Infinity Loop project for the past two years.” He rested his head against the crested top of the divan. “So, why’d you leave Selejo? Doesn’t that seem a bit ungrateful?”

Ian quirked a grin. He figured that Euryphel had probably asked him the question already in one of his little scenarios, so decided to grace him with a more humorous response.

“I’m tired of the weather.” This technically wasn’t false: Compared to the SPU’s sunny beaches and warm, equatorial climate, tempered by cool winds from the Bay of Ramsay, Selejo was cool and shrouded in almost-constant cloud cover.

The prince didn’t seem particularly amused.

Ian shrugged, then walked over to the windows, leaning against the sill. “I need to find someone to break an oath.”

Euryphel’s expression remained unchanged, but he asked, “What kind of oath?”

“Nothing too serious,” Ian replied. “A joint-fulfillment oath, with at least some of the terms already fulfilled.”

“Consider it null and void, but I’ll need something in exchange.” Euryphel lowered his chin to the top of the divan, steepling his fingers and covering his mouth. Ian once more had the impression that the Crowned Prime was using his Regret affinity.

After a few seconds of silence, the prince exhaled and raised his head, propping himself up with his elbow.

“Would you consider working for me?”

Ian raised an eyebrow. He expected Euryphel from the loop to say something like that, not Euryphel in real life. It was one thing to work with someone in a world you knew was fake; it was another thing entirely to work with that same someone in a world with consequences. He figured that he’d have to stay in the SPU for a while before Euryphel would consider using his talents.

“Are you allowed to hire a foreigner to work for you?” he asked. It was a serious question. The SPU wasn’t the most liberal with its immigration policy, considering that it was surrounded on all sides by hostile nations.

“You’re from Shattradan. Besides, if anyone is dissatisfied, they can come to me.”

Ian shook his head in confusion. “What kind of work would you have me do?”

“Well,” Euryphel said, his expression pensive. “I’ll think of something.”

“Don’t you need to conduct a background investigation first?” Ian asked, frowning.

“No.”

Ian couldn’t help but let his lips curl up into a smile. He couldn’t believe that Euryphel was acting so deliberately irrational, hiring a powerful stranger with a mysterious background on the spot. And a decemancer, to boot.

“You’re going to give the Guard a heart attack,” Ian pointed out. Unlike you, they can’t see the future, he thought.

“They trust me,” the prince said, giving him a whimsical smile and shifting his head.

Ian gave Euryphel a helpless look. “Fine, I’ll work for you, at least for the time being.”

Euryphel’s passive smile became dazzling, his white teeth strangely predatory. Even though Ian had taken no oaths, he still had the peculiar sense that he’d fallen into a trap.

The prince stood up from the divan and walked over, offering his hand to Ian. The two of them shook on the verbal agreement. As their hands disengaged, the prince’s expression suddenly relaxed, as though a great tension had been released. “Excellent.”