Ashes of the Fallen

Chapter 4: Shot in the Dark

Nemera hadn’t expected for the Sunstress to take her up on her offer. 

Siara laughed, far louder than any jovial festival goer ever could, her features relaxing into a far less rigid depiction of a leader.

Nemera barely remembered her reasons for summoning Comet, still dumbfounded by the cooing sounds Siara made towards her Agar as he zoomed around the vicinity without a care in the world. Trust Comet to make light of an incredibly tense political situation.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you. Trollians have a soft spot for shiny things. Especially Comet.” Nemera quipped, unsure of how to continue with such a sudden change in behaviour.

The Sunstress had completely abandoned her earlier insistence for decorum and had flung her cloak to one side the moment Comet veered haphazardly into her arms like a giant, cuddly fireball of death. But of course, the Sunspell elf was used to getting her clothes singed and was completely oblivious to the screams around her, her happiness far greater than even Comet could match.

“What does that make me, a walking flashlight?” Siara asked, more towards the little Inferno Trollian than Nemera herself.

“Exactly.”

Nemera grinned, casually picking up the abandoned cloak out of false politeness rather than a wicked Shadow Traited attempting to snoop around an already cautious city. It wasn’t her fault the High Sunstress had left potential evidence on the floor and besides, if anyone asked she was simply being escorted to wherever the Sunstress wanted to go. Or escorting her if need be.

“Well, then. We better make use of this golden opportunity. I know a shortcut to the Pressurehold. It’s where…well, you’ll find out soon enough. Isn’t that right, Commmy? Oh, you are just so precious!”

Bursting into a half run, Nemera had to jog to keep up, unused to so long without sleep she barely had time to pick herself up and follow along just as rapidly. Thanks to Agar's incredible luck and knack for finding the only elf in Neridia who adored Trollian’s, she was finally able to make some headway in this already stupidly elusive case. Unfortunately, it meant a lot of running, a lot of chasing and a lot of burnt banners along the way. 

Forewarn Cliff had been completely destroyed from what they had claimed was a freak storm and judging from the Dropspire Arches it was barely the worst of it. One of their most prominent leaders had allegedly been killed by the blast. A High Nightcaster no less. Now, all they had to do was traverse a ‘shortcut’ of dark, creepy, dank series of underground tunnels and she’d not only be rewarded with an interview with their prime suspect but a look at the crime scene. Or what was left of it. 

“Thank you, for coming all this way Nemera. I know the journey must’ve taken a toll, especially without a dragon…”

The sympathetic voice beside her broke Nemera out of her thoughts, startled by change and the long, narrow corridor of darkness that leered back at her. With only a ball of sentient flame to guide their way, Comet bobbed along like a buoy in a stormy sea, happily sharing his attention with probably only elf in Neridia who adored Trollians.

“It’s fine. When the Gorgon, I mean, General Basra informed me of the delicate situation…it was only right I’d be the one to go instead of..her. I’m sorry if I was a bit…stubborn about it at first.” Nemera admitted, giving Siara a polite smile in an attempt to hide her discomfort.

Nemera’s hat scraped along the pipe systems above them, wincing as they walked she tried not to think of the last time she’d been in such a small, dark place and conjured an image of it being illuminated in light. It wouldn’t do well for anyone to find out she was afraid of the dark. The irony of it made even her laugh.