Icarus Awakens

When Arpan Morel set foot on the Spires’ Eye three hours later, there were more people than open ground. This was a standing affair, with food and drink placed on tables rather than being served by the staff. No point, as it would take too long to get here from the nearest kitchen. He brushed off the tan overcloak he wore, looking with some distaste at the dirt that had gotten on the green diamond split by the front divide near the hem.

“Name?” It was to be expected that the spire guard standing by one of the public entrances was broad-framed with an equally imposing broadsword sheathed at the waist. These were a separate organization from the city guard, responsible for and to those living in the Spires and given the best to protect them. Was this sword one of his? Arpan could sense the magic in it but he hadn’t made the hilt, so he couldn’t tell. The city imported almost as many enchanted items as he made, though the majority was the drull of Arcanist pretenders. “Arpan Morel. I was invited.”

The man paused, making no visible effort to check the name before nodding. “Artificer. I’ll need to check you. No weapons here.”

“Oh trust me, I’m here to get away from work.” The guard didn’t return his smile and gestured for him to take off his cloak. He did with a small flourish, throwing it off the side of the Eye. He had spares, could afford hundreds in fact, and didn’t need to worry about sand considering there was a bubble of divine force keeping the ongoing dust storm away.

Now fully revealed, the guard could confirm Arpan carried no obvious weapons. Neither did he immediately let the man through. “Is that armor enchanted?” he asked skeptically.

“It’s my Focus. You can confirm with whoever is in your head, but unless I’m mistaken, we’re not in the habit of asking Blessed to turn those over.” The spire guard frowned, paused again, then reluctantly stepped away.

“Keep it on at all times. Make use of any power and there will be trouble. Next!”

“‘There will be trouble’. Can you believe that Dril? As if I wasn’t at least two levels his senior,” Arpan whispered down. His enchanted armor was currently on his person. While it was far too small for him, that was only whilst it was in one piece. Dril was scattered across Arpan’s body with each part roughly where it should be if it were a full suit.

This was hardly a new arrangement. The Artificer’s wardrobe was made to match the separate pieces by enveloping the edges in fabric. The chest piece and the diamond-shaped emerald in its center were prominently displayed for all to see, making it clear to those familiar with him or his work who he was.

Arpan enjoyed the notice of the nearby nobility for precisely three seconds, before a voice called out to him. “Arpan? Arpan, how lovely!”

Oh no. “Lady Alecia Seliri! It is a pleasure.” Arpan greeted the human woman in her forties as she approached, her husband nowhere to be seen. That, and the smile she gave which was completely inappropriate for someone thirty years her senior had him worried. Who am I kidding? Forty. “I hope you enjoyed my latest work.”

“Yes! Oh, but it’s being fitted for its handle. I so hoped to bring it with me today, but it seems everyone is putting in orders like mad of late! My husband’s hiding something, though he won’t tell me.” She pouted dramatically, then brightened up again. “I suppose you don’t know anything about current events?”

How anyone could expect an Artificer who was practically locked in their store ninety percent of the time to know the current gossip was beyond him. He put it more graciously to the Lady. “Unfortunately, I was kept quite busy as of late. As you say it has been busy and my customers didn’t impart the daily news with their requests.”

“Ah, I see. I do hope my order was fun for you. I was told that metal would be quite the challenge.”

What?! You made me work an extra half day for the fun of it? He tried to keep his aggravation hidden. “Uhm, my Lady, I apologize but I don’t take your meaning.”

“Hmm, let’s walk and speak. It’s too crowded by the common door.” Warily, Arpan followed. He didn’t want to, but the wife of someone on the Council wasn’t one you refused without good reason. She led him to one of the banisters ringing the Eye and leaned against it, completely fearless of the long drop below. It should have been a good view, though the sandstorm that had enveloped the rest of the city hadn’t yet faded.

The gala, as it was so advertised, was mainly concentrated in the center where the fountain and tables stood. There, the four heads of Aughal mixed with lesser nobility, their families, and notable guests like himself. Private conversations were reserved for the edges of the space, and guarded by enchanted items like the one Alecia activated.

A necklace with the muffle sound enchantment, plus the rich quality and concealable affixes. That’s one of mine, Arpan thought, recognizing the concealed mark one of his powers had placed on the item. Alone, the power made it clear who the original enchanter was and prevented any other underhanded Artificer from stealing the design. Several later powers had built off of this simple one, allowing Arpan to do much to protect his inventory before sale.

“There we go. It wouldn’t do to let just anyone listen in on our chat, now would it?”

“Yes,” Arpan lied. “Is this about another order you wish to place?”

“Well, your latest work did leave me quite satisfied, even though it was expensive. It was worth it to know you spent that time thinking of me.” Arpan thought of who had visited that night and made a point not to explain how wrong she was. “I hope you understand why I requested that specific metal.”

“You wanted to give me a challenge?” As if my work wasn’t already hard enough.

“Oh no, no.” Lady Alecia laughed, the sound captured by the enchantment originally meant for stealth classes and prevented from carrying to the ears of anyone nearby. “Well, yes. I thought that would make it special. Also, well,” her slightly high pitched voice grew softer and she extended a hand. “It is your color.”

One of her fingers traced around the gem on Arpan’s chest and he sighed internally. This was exactly what he feared. Similar advances had been made over the years. Most often it was by those in power looking to capture his interests or, at the very least, a discount. A few, and he worried this was the case here, were drawn instead by the mystique. He was one of the very few level 5s in the city, the only Artificer in the region, and nominally independent. What was it that people who had everything wanted?

Well, one thing was for certain. Lady Alecia’s husband didn’t want this. “I apologize, my Lady.” Arpan took a step back, breaking the connection while remaining within the enchantment. He was acutely aware of the fact that it did nothing to conceal vision. Arpan chose his words carefully. “I am afraid I simply have no time for any additional business for the immediate future. As you said, there is currently high demand.”

“Oh, Arpan! You needn’t fear my husband,” Alecia assured, now making no pretenses, “He’s been so busy of late. Couldn’t I reserve your time? Or, at the least, visit you on occasion? I’m sure you wouldn’t mind the company during those long nights. I could be just the right amount of distracting.”

She really did her research on enchanting, Arpan thought. He was going to say no, of course. Neutrality was important, as was the difference in their ages. It wasn’t her fault he didn’t look as old as he was and admittedly took care to present himself well. Though, it was hard for him to refuse the offer. Which he should, even though she’d probably pay him. He just had to say no, it was that simple right? Lady Alecia stared at him with wide eyes, not in fear or shock but yearning. Gods, but it would be nice to have company. But no, I’m a professional. This is will lead to problems. Say no.

“Arpan? Are you alright?” Alecia asked with a slight chuckle. “You know, it’s so busy right now, I doubt anyone would notice if we stepped out for a few moments. This is supposed to last all day, isn’t it? We’d have plenty of time. Unless you were planning on enchanting anything other than myself right in the middle of this Gala?”

He was flushing. This was bad. This, well, this kind of thing did happen, right? Secret pairings amid a grand social event? And with people far less important than him, like the wait staff. Maybe this was a good thing. Let the flame burn bright and quickly, and Alecia would lose interest and find someone else. Oh Star, Dril, I’m talking myself into it.

Arpan couldn’t speak, but his internal conflict was clear to Alecia by the tone of his tanned face. “Haha, you’re bright red and speechless! How about this. I’m going to head down and wait for you two landings below this one. Wait five minutes, and then, if you want to find me, I can put this to use another way.” She smiled, tracing the same finger over the necklace and disabling the effect. As if she wasn’t just speaking in a sultry voice, Alecia formally said, “Thank you again, Arpan. I’ll have to consider placing another order soon.”

For a few minutes, Arpan stood gripping the handrail tightly. His heart raced, arguing back and forth in his mind. This was risky, but what was the worst that could happen? He wouldn’t be breaking any laws. Angering someone important was the biggest trouble he’d catch, if that. He could always move if he needed to, the only reason he stayed in Aughal was to avoid competition. Am I really going to do this? Tensely, but with a half-smile growing on his face, Arpan made his way towards the stairs.

…

Across the Eye, Silora was miserable. The air was so dry! She didn’t want to be here, but the city had made a request she was bound to follow. Her leash had been tighter as of late, the consequences of helping the Assassin Mark locate and kill Lord Fredreick. That she had done so under threat of death helped her case, as was the fact she was the city’s only Fate. Hard to replace, but not impossible. They’d said as much when they thought she couldn’t hear.

She was a shavi, a race descended from some long extinct sea monster. It’d be strange to find one willingly living in the middle of a desert, and if you searched Aughal you wouldn’t find any other. Silora had the distinct displeasure of having accidentally acquired the Fate class, one very valuable to the leaders of any region. Rumor was that she took up a slot and another Fate wouldn’t awaken in Aughal until she died, even if she left and never returned.

While she would have in a heartbeat anyway, she’d made a fatal mistake in her youth: agreeing to help the city with her powers if they trained her and provided the expensive Focus chamber she used daily. It had been a good deal until it came time to repay the debt and Silora suddenly found she wasn’t the master of her own time. Neither could she expect to escape the region alone, she’d die an hour outside the city without special preparation and that was if a certain clause in her agreement wasn’t enacted.

For the last few years, she’d contented herself with leveraging consolations from the city. Judging when she could get away with a request without asking too much that she’d anger someone she shouldn’t. Now, she had a plan. In a few days, he’d be here. She’d found someone of true value like herself. Even though her sight had been blocked from him somehow, she knew he was coming to Aughal. With him, she could escape.

All that relied on her not dropping dead today. For the event, she’d been loaned a ring of heat resistance. It was level 3, decent, but did nothing for the aridity. Silora looked at the distant fountain and weighed how much trouble she’d get in for diving into it. It was more important than it looked, for it stood where the Tyrant’s throne had once had. There was an old story that Armafus had cursed it when he died, but it’d been thrown out with him so that wasn’t a concern. She only cared that it was full of water. The balance was shifting with every moment, made worse by the fact she was bereft of her new assistant Sctai.

The dusker had been able to tolerate working a day shift in a room that didn’t accommodate her full size but balked at serving under the open sun. As it turned out the sandstorm would have made it safe, but even Silora couldn’t force her servant out during the day. That was the entire reason she’d been assigned who she had, Silora was sure. Another way to keep her in check.

Then there was the small talk. “No, I can’t do a reading here. I don’t know about what’s happening there and I couldn’t tell you if I could. Yes, I know how hot it is!” Being the only shavi present made her stand out, not in a good way. That was the real reason she was here, a showpiece. Her blue skin, broad head, and tail made an impression. Well, there were other people with tails here, but not one that went down below the ankles. The avianoids didn’t have to worry about people kicking theirs!

She kept her cool, if only in metaphor. Even so, the fountain was right there. If she ran, she could be fully immersed in seconds. Maybe that’d get her kicked out and she could go back to her bed. Either way, it was too late to stop her skin from flaking and cracking. Oh, and someone else was coming to talk with her.

The young avianoid with dark brown and white feathers approached her intently. He or she was dressed both finely and minimally, not giving Silora enough to go on to guess the sex. They were young, though, perhaps a couple years past reaching maturity. Far younger than she was and with little finery beyond a handful of enchanted items. Some were fairly powerful. That was odd. “You’re the Fate, aren’t you?”

Female. The voice of an avianoid was the biggest tell unless you were familiar enough with their faces or didn’t care enough to try, which was the case in this moment. Silora just stared at her, done with everything and wishing this new conversant would go jump off a balcony.

She didn’t. “You look parched. Here,” the young woman extended a hand holding a glass filled with water. Silora would have preferred wine, but only when she wasn’t withering away from thirst. The thought of poison crossed her mind for a moment, but she didn’t care. As she gulped the glass down, not caring that some of it spilled on her face, the woman kept talking. “I’m Willow. Sorry to bother you but you seemed distressed. I can’t imagine this is the best climate for you.” The voice was refined, like any of the nobility or people who’d qualify to be a guest here, though there was a simple honesty in it that didn’t fit in with the general crowd.

“Ah, more.” Silora couldn’t help it. She’d taken entire jugs of water to herself over the day and had exhausted the local supply. Like the fountain, the bottles of wine and other refreshments taunted her, but they’d only dehydrate her further.

Surprisingly, Willow had another one. Silora didn’t ask how but grabbed for it. She almost missed what was said next, but froze when the words made it past the exaltations in her mind. “I heard there’s going to be an announcement soon. I wonder if it’s about the recent attack. Do you know anything about that?”

Oh, this was an obvious trap. “No, of course not. I’m dying out here, when would I have the chance to go out and gossip?”

“Sorry. It’s odd though. Rodreick I mean. I’ve heard he was caught without his guard. Do you think there’s another Fate in the city? I was just curious, either the Assassin was lucky or knew when to attack. My father’s been too busy for me to ask him and I’d thought you’d know.”

Silora was wary of this woman now as she was clearly the daughter of someone important. Moreso, her words struck at a lingering question in the Fate’s mind. How had Mark or whoever had hired him known when to come to her and confirm Rodreick’s location, if they didn’t already know he was vulnerable?

“If I could tell you one thing,” she said carefully, “It’s that I’m the only Fate in Aughal. Otherwise, I’m as in the dark as everyone.”

Willow looked up and frowned. “Not for much longer though. I think the storm’s calming down. The sun will be out soon. I’m sorry. I could try to find you a parasol if that would help.”

“Why?”

“They said it’s good luck to do a Fate a favor and no one else here was helping you.” Willow shrugged innocently. “Well? I’d be happy to look.”

That was it? Silora still felt unsteady. This Willow hadn’t done anything that would justify overt suspicion, but why was she just helping her? Was she just being paranoid? If the sun is coming out- “Thank you. I might need that.”

“Not a problem, Fate.” Willow left Silora partially improved, although it would take a bath to put a dent in her displeasure. The fountain. It was so close.

Something was happening at the fountain. The four leaders of Aughal, four now that Rodreick had died heirless and his faction imploded, were standing together. Others had sensed the importance of this and were flocking to the right side to see them clearly. The buzz of conversation became excited whispers. Something was about to happen.

Lady Claret Sosa raised a hand, inflicting silence on the crowd. Everyone besides Silora, who couldn’t look away from the water, had their eyes and ears fixed on her. “People of Aughal,” she began. “Some of you have by now heard rumor and speculation regarding a certain topic of recent events. We, the Council of Aughal, have deemed it time for an official proclamation on this matter. What is discussed here will be distributed throughout the city proper, and to the outlying villages over the next few days. Whilst this news may inspire panic, I urge everyone to remain calm. If necessary, the guard will employ powers to maintain order.”

There was an edge in the air now and Silora looked away from the fountain. This isn’t about the assassination at all. Is this about the Thormundz? Wait, they’re telling everyone right now?

“Approximately two and a half months ago, in the process of finalizing their Spoke, a calamity occurred in the Thormundz region resulting in the total loss of their capital city. In the intervening time the survivors reorganized, and have as of this week pushed out of the region, abandoning it. We have received no guidance, divine or otherwise, on these matters but are preparing for roughly one hundred refugees. They are expected to reach this city in a matter of days. We do not- we do not!” Claret attempted to raise her voice above the crowd but failed.

Ytaya took over. “WE DO NOT EXPECT ANY DANGER TO APPEAR FROM THE BORDER!” Silora’s ears were ringing slightly. That was either an item or just the full range of the dusker’s lungs. “This region is safe. Expansion efforts have been harmed, but that is a burden shared by the kingdom, and the Realm as a whole. For now, all travel to…”

It happened quickly. As Ytaya was speaking, the storm around Aughal broke enough to let the light of the sun through. Duskers were part of the crowd, but they didn’t fear their ancestral weakness like others of their kind due to protective enchantments on their person. Only the richest could afford to have them made, but the richest were here. The largest inconvenience was the disruption to their normal sleep cycles. Or so they thought.

When it struck the Eye, Ytaya paused as the radiance carried by it wasn’t blunted as it was normally. First, she glanced at her hand in a panic before attempting to collapse her shell. The sand carapace could resist the sun, but the scaled flesh underneath? Whatever hadn’t been covered by shadow turned as sandy brown as the carapace, rapidly hardening. This spread, regardless of what Ytaya did. It was too late, she’d been exposed. In seconds, where she’d once stood, there was a statue in her perfect, terrified image.

There were so many cries, from the people around her and the guard. One shouted almost as loudly as Ytaya, dominating the air. “MIRAGE ATTACK! GET DOWN!”

The Fate threw herself into the fountain. The way she figured, if she was going to be in one place for a while it might as well be there. A bow trained on her as she rushed the center but didn’t fire when it became clear who she was and exactly what she couldn’t do. More armed guard, some Blessed and some not, came streaming from the various entrances around the Eye.

And for Ytaya? Other duskers had tried to get to her first. She’d been the only one whose protection had failed. Her faction had been too late. Every enchanted item she’d worn was gone, stolen by the vultures nearest to her. In one case, that description was close to literal.

From the soothing waters around her, Silora’s eyes met with Lord Bennar’s. He mistook the understanding there, sighed, and held one finger to his lips.