12 Miles Below

“You’re a Winterscar?” He asked, completely stunned. “As in a savage like you is related to the sword saint?”

“Looks like I’m famous.” I said with a bit of well earned smug satisfaction.

“Your House is.” He said. “You aren’t. If you even are a Winterscar. What is your relation to the sword saint?”

Well, that was new. First time I’ve told my name to someone and they didn’t believe me. Don’t know how I felt about that. “She’s my older sister.”

He looked like a fish, mouth open slightly as if he had a few more questions and no idea which to ask first. “Why are you even defending the cultists in the first place if you’re a Winterscar? They were the enemy, they destroyed Capra’Nor. The same city she fought for.”

I took a double take at that. “What? The Chosen didn’t destroy the city, you smoking frostbloom instead of boiling it?”

“No, you dense bastard--”

“Whoa, language.” I said, giving him a quick flick to his forehead. “Dirty surface savage is perfectly polite, let’s keep it civilized here.”

He growled, shaking his head since he couldn’t easily swat my hand away. “Did you not see the fucking city? It’s in ruins, looted to the ground, not even the bodies could be found.”

“Again, what are you talking about? It was fully evacuated.” Did Marsella not even do the basics of telling Drakonis what was going on? Or were there just zero negotiations and communication attempts?

“The cultists all said the same thing, did you really believe them?” Drakonis narrowed his eyes. “A little too convenient, don’t you think?”

Ah. Not the lack of communication attempts, lack of evidence and credibility. Always the main issues I have to deal with when trying to peddle my lies, understandable.

I sat down, tapping my fingers together as I decided on how I was going to handle this mess. “Who did you talk to exactly at the negotiations?”

“You know exactly who. The criminal. The plague of Capra’Nor herself, fucking back from the dead and stomping on everything and everyone as usual. Marsella the black.”

“She your ex?”

He didn’t appreciate that line, but fortunately I was nice and safe in currently powered armor and he could just foam at the mouth and shake.

“I was a guard part of Capra’Nor’s military police, dickwad.” He finally spat out, after calming down a tad. “What do you think?”

“Language.” I said, giving him another flick on his forehead. Starting to get red there. “Sounds like the start of a sappy romance novel, that’s what I’d think.” Okay, maybe I was having a little too much fun here, I took a breath and got a bit more serious. “But no, I didn’t live in Capra’Nor and the time I did spend there, it was already at peace and everything had been settled down. So tell me exactly who Marsella was, and why you hate her this much?”

“It’s the amount of people she’s responsible for killing. Families ripped apart from crooked loans, addicts turning on their friends, street thugs terrorizing the local markets but all just underground enough no one in the guard could campaign to the people for a full force to clear her out. She had ties to the upper ranks, and hid behind them like a shield. She’s the literal shitstain that’s been rotting the city from the inside out ever since she moved in, and for a brief few days we thought she’d finally keeled over dead during the rebellion. Get it now?”

Okay, add some history between the two. But there’s room for diplomacy again given the new info I had here about Drakonis and Marsella.

“I don’t mean to downplay any of the scrapshit she’s been up to in the background before I arrived here, but for the negotiations specifically - she didn’t bring out any evidence of any kind? This would be the easiest thing to prove.”

He laughed, “Sure, few video recordings, Zaang’s old documents, council edicts, all things she’s easily forged before time and time again. When we told her to pound sand she told us to go travel two weeks away to visit some of the further cities and speak to the refugees from Capra’Nor there. And then spend another two weeks returning. Full month for her to fully entrench her little thiefdom. You can’t possibly be this stupid, surface savage.”

I resisted the urge to sigh, but it was hard. “Okay, I get that.” I said instead. “Can’t let a window of chance slip away, I’d have done the same. That said, you couldn’t just send out a single Deathless to get the info back? Just one to at least verify?”

“We had one single airspeeder.” He tried to look behind him, past the charred vale. The dead armor stopped him from making a full turn. “And it’s laying in a wreck somewhere out there. You want me to send out one of my men on a hoversled?”

“There wasn’t any other attempt Marsella made to get the message across? Or anyone else trying to discuss terms with you lot?”

Legis would have been part of the negotiations. And he’s far more level headed about peace. How did this en- oh. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t there when the Deathless had started the fight, still traveling down with Fido. And he wasn’t there for the city’s history either.

And Tamery… I could see her listening to Marsella sagely say she’ll go handle the giant army of Deathless, and believing it would work. Probably should have if that army of Deathless wasn’t being led by a straight up city guard.

Starting to see what the stink was really about. Marsella saw who Drakonis was, did a feeble attempt just to test the snow a bit and then defaulted back to what she was good at. Or maybe that was what she wanted to happen the entire time?

Everyone’s telling me she’s an underworld boss of some kind who’s been around the block. Is this some kind of powerplay? Did she want there to be a fight between the new town and the Deathless?

I couldn’t understand why she’d want that though, and was left thinking about it until Drakonis pulled me back into the world. “You really believe her lies?” He asked.

“Got nothing to do with believing her or not, I was there. I saw it all happen." I said. "Winterscar, remember? And if you don’t know snow from ice about it, I take it you weren’t there for any of the peace or evacuation?”

“No. I set off to bring back an army of Deathless. And I did. When we got back, the city was dead and looted to the ground.” He gave a dry chuckle after, “And guess what else we found when we got back? Out in the fields, filled to the brim with all the rations a city would have to loot, were the cultists who’d been sieging us this entire fucking time, led by Marsella herself. All swearing up and down they’re innocent. They just want to peacefully worship the very machines that murdered everyone. You’re either some kind of moron, or in with them, and I can’t fucking figure which side of the coin you fall on, savage.”

“Thought we agreed on ‘dirty surface savage?’ I like my fancy titles Drakonis. Don’t rob a man of the simple joys in life.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe that was my answer, “Are you actually from the surface even? Clan knights aren’t like this.”

“You just haven’t spent any time around enough clan knights. Though, you’re usually correct I’ll admit.”

I got back on my feet and paced around, switching the comms to private. “Cathida, opinions?”

“Unable to process this request.” Journey’s smooth voice explained instead of the old bat. “Filter unable to be applied to current information.”

A nervous unhinged laugh came out my mouth before I could even shove it down. “Gods damned short term solutions, should have figured this would bite me later.”

Too much scrapshit here for Journey to even make up an excuse that could be fed to Cathida.

“What is your end game?” Drakonis asked while I was silently fuming in my helmet. “You can’t possibly think any of us are going to believe that kind of outrageous story.”

“That’s exactly what I expect from you.” I took a few pacing steps again, looking out at the charred vale around us. “Fine, it’s fine. Let’s get back on topic. When did you leave the city?”

He paused, then shook his head with a half-armored shrug again. “After the city fell prey to the machines, the sword saint and her honor guard continued the fight, even taking on the Feather overlord herself a few times. The machines gave the city three weeks to become cultists or die off. Many left, and I did too. But I didn’t leave to run. When I went out, I swore I would return with an army of Deathless.” He sat up on his elbows, straining to move the unpowered armor. “I kept my oath… but it took too long. When we got back, there was nothing left of the city except vultures taking whatever they could, and then claiming innocence. You happen to know them already.”

I had both my hands pressed up against my forehead. “This is such scrapshit on a monumental level, I can’t even process how to handle you.”

It had been months after the city evacuated that I’d beaten Father and finally returned underground. Of course the city was looted and empty. And of course Drakonis wouldn’t have run into any refugees anymore, not after that long. And of course he wouldn’t have stopped at any cities those refugees would have landed in, why add more pit stops in what he thought was a pressing situation? Moment he had enough of an army, he raced right back to Capra’Nor without a single stop. “You’ve got some history to catch up on.” I said after a few back and forth paces. “That’s what missing. A full debrief.”

“From you?” He laughed. “A Deathless turncoat helping the machines?”

“Yeah. That’s exactly who.” Then I pointed a finger at the heavy armor holding him down, “Don’t think you can do anything about it either other than sit here, be miserable, and listen to my monologuing.”

So I sat down and explained everything I could about the history he’d missed by inches. Wrath and the mites, killing a few Feathers from To’Aacar to To’Avalis and his little army of minions too, the evacuation, running to the surface and finally coming back now that the coast was more clear. All the main details, and none of the more informations sensitive stuff.

And of course he didn’t believe a word I said.

“The only thing in your story that makes any amount of sense.” He said after a long pause. “Is you being a Winterscar. So for now, I know you’re an actual dirty surface savage.”

“First, thank you, finally some recognition. And second, that’s where you draw the line? Not a Feather turning against Relinquished, the great pale lady that’s been the real reason the world’s in ruin? Seriously? Me being a Winterscar and from the surface?”

And I'd spent some good time explaining Relinquished in details too, since imperials only had passing mentions about the violet goddess as I found out. Most considered her an allegory or parable in their books, not an actual entity. And none of them knew her exact name, just 'Violet Goddess'.

He gave another half-moved shrug, the armor still acting more like a prison than protection. “You move like she did. The sword saint. I saw that with my own eyes. And her honor guards began to move as quickly as she did later during the rebellion. In the same way, your entire line of clan knights could move as fast. I don’t know if she really could teach others or if it was a gift of power, but there is a connection of some kind between your knights and hers. I can’t tell if it’s friendly or not.”

This obstinate little shit. “Can’t tell if it’s friendly or not, okay then you rat bastard… explain why the gods you don’t believe I’m on my own sisters side?”

He shook his head at that. “Family isn’t some iron bond. She could have been betrayed by her own clan once an easier path appeared, she fought a rebellion against the cultists and now her clan is settling in with them. Or perhaps there’s a power struggle among the Winterscars. She could have also been subverted by the Feather’s lies. I don’t even know if the sword saint is alive or not. What I do know is that the machine Feather that took Capra’Nor was immensely powerful, clever, and pragmatic. Both a warmaster, and a silver tongue.”

All that went through my head was Wrath eating a plate because I’d convinced her it was edible. Or with all the grace and poise of a Feather, hiding in a box of squashed berries from Kidra and peeking out the lid later in the night. Two beady violet eyes looking left and right for possible danger. Or tripping on a giant obvious root because something shiny caught her attention. “In some definitions of clever, sure.” I diplomatically said. “I’ve seen… other sides to her.”

Drakonis shook his head. “You don’t understand. She took an entire city from the inside out. Battled a saint sent by the goddess herself to a standstill. Convinced hundreds of normal people to follow her off a metaphorical cliff. She’s capable of lying and fooling anyone.”

Also beating up other Feathers, starting rebellions, and petty theft for starters. But I sure wasn’t going to give Drakonis more fuel for his paranoia.

“The conviction is still in question.” He looked down at his hands, giving them a mild flop, straining against the bulky metal. “But what is the point of all this even, Winterscar?”

“Another attempt for a peaceful resolution to this entire mess.” I said. “What else?”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I don’t think you really understand just how fucked we both are now.” His head leaned back against the dirt, eyes looking up to the roof far above, covered in leaves. “We’re gone. An entire world away from Capra’Nor, or the cultists. Completely gone. It doesn't matter if what you say is the truth or not. Doesn’t matter what you’re hiding or not hiding. We might as well be in a brand new life now. It’ll sink in soon enough.”

“No, I’m going back.” I said without much thought. “I know a few people in high places I can shake down for a map home.”

He gave a dry scoff. “It’s impossible.”

“Yeah, and I’ve done the impossible a few times over already, you heard half of it. Mites made the portal. Mites are working with Wrath. And I’m working with Wrath. Add it together. I've got access to resources most people don't. It might be impossible for you, but I've got options.” I could tell that hit a small nerve in him. He didn’t show it, but there was a flicker of something in those calculating eyes of his. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’ve got a deal to offer you. You and I are going to go on a little airspeeder ride.”

He rolled his eyes instantly. “It’s an expression, you dense scrapshit.” I said, “But for all I know we might end up having to actually ride an airship back. Maybe not yours, wasn't in great shape last I saw it. I’m not ruling anything out just yet, done crazier things.”

He gave me a very flat stare, but didn’t argue back, so I clearly won.

“I’ve got you dead to rights here.” I said. “I could just leave you here and make my way back home on my own. The little sneak attack on the town while we were on the field fighting failed, and I doubt the battle where you lost your entire airspeeder went any better. So it’s over, I won.”

His eyes widened at that. “We counted only one less surface knight among you. You think a single one of your knights could take on nine Deathless?”

“Why as a matter of fact I do. Because that single knight is To’Wrathh. The warlord Feather you warned me earlier not to underestimate. Remember she came with us? I’ll give you three guesses as to who won the fight back at the town, and the hint is that she won.”

I didn’t actually know if she won or not, but a bluff would work just fine here.

The fight seemed to go clear out of him, and he let himself slump completely back into the blackened dirt. He gave a strangled laugh after that. “Why even offer any kind of deal with me? If you already know you’ve won completely, all you’re doing is putting a risk on yourself to keep me around.”

“Because your gathered army followed you.” I said with a finger tapping on his chestplate. “They’ll keep fighting in your memory and Deathless don’t have any natural stopping point. We’ll end up in this fight for decades. I have other things to do in this world than to protect a town, things that involve the entire world and possibly improving it for the better. So the only way this is ending is if the town is obliterated… or that you tell your soldiers to stand down.”

He didn’t even pause to think about it. “If you’re offering to help me return home in exchange for having me give that kind of order, you have no idea who the fuck you’re speaking to, Winterscar. I set out to bring back an army to save Capra’Nor, and failing that, to avenge her and the people that died there. You think I’m so self-centered that I’d be willing to turn my back to that to save my own skin? Never.”

“That’s sort of what I was counting on. We’re going back home, and both investigate this to the fullest. If it turns out the Chosen were lying this whole time, I’ll order my knights to back off. Three gods above, I’ll even join ranks with you.”

He stayed silent for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I’m listening.”

I could tell he already knew what the second part of that deal would be, since he showed no surprise at what I said next. “But, if it turns out I’m right? That the cultists have been telling the true history this entire time? You’ll settle your own personal grudge somewhere else, and you’ll call off your Deathless and leave well enough alone. And I mean all the Deathless, Lionheart included.”

He was quick on the uptake for why I specifically mentioned Lionheart. “Even hard evidence might not convince him to leave a Feather alone.” Drakonis said. "He's fought them before with his old fireteam, all of his skills, gear and abilities were tailored to fighting them off."

“That’ll be your problem to figure out. And I have a strong suspicion you’d be the only one with any chance of getting him to cooperate.”

He stared me down, calculations going through his head. Then, with a deep breath, he closed his eyes and nodded once. “If what you said was true, that the people of Capra’Nor are safe and that the Feather To’Wrathh is fighting for humanity and allied with the mites… then I will order my army to stand down. And that includes Lionheart, I’ll find a way. And you, Winterscar? Is your word worth anything?”

I reached down a hand to shake his own. “I already know I won’t need to test it. But if by some reason the joke's been on me this whole time, then I will do exactly as I said I would and take up my blade against the Chosen. I give you my oath on that.”

“So be it, you dirty surface savage.” He said, grabbing my arm and shaking.

“So be it, you ungrateful Deathless bastard.” I said, returning the handshake.