Byron sat cross-legged in front of the pedestal. Blood poured from one of his outstretched palms, and he watched as his ritual completed and the luxian he held in his hand turned to liquid and disappeared in a crackle of blue energy that flowed with an enchanting pattern. The Bloodstone pulsed a vibrant crimson, the long, glass tube in front of him glowing with energy for a moment before settling back into its dormant state. The combination of the Bloodstone and luxian ore was amazing. It took him far less time to accomplish his day's work. He looked at the cut across his hand as it sealed and faded with a shiver of pain, and he smiled to himself.
The space around him would seem like nothing more than a ruined courtyard to anyone else.
Even a fountain lay cracked and broken near the center of this underground chasm, unused for eons, forgotten by time, and given over to the area of myth seldom searched. He knelt inside a Reclaimer. One of only five in existence, it was a gigantic being. Not sentient or living once awoken, but that mattered little—as he would be the one to pilot it. He knew the amount of life essence he had to gather to awaken it was daunting, but that would not stop him. Along the far wall, a large glass tube stood, just outside of his vision unless it chose to glow. A console spanned the space beneath and around it. It was what he would use when this titan finally awakened. It would rise from its deep long-forgotten tomb and walk across the world once again, its footsteps spanning miles. It was said these Reclaimers could stand in the depths of the ocean and still tower over the tallest of ships.
The thought of it made him shiver—for the power it would offer him was world shattering. He sometimes wondered if these monstrosities were what once rendered this plane into its current state. If anything had the power to break the land, shift the oceans and change the cycles, it was the Reclaimer. He had searched for so long, to find one of these, and he knew that the only way to survive once it was awakened was to be standing on the inside.
He was so close—a little more energy was all he needed. He wanted it to be spectacular, special, something his goddess would approve of. Arnet had a number of pets with rare bloodlines, but Byron did not find them good enough. He wanted something rare, pure, something unmistakably special. He wanted angelic blood to give to his goddess. So few of them ever walked this plane. Walked any but their home planes, for that matter. Byron smiled.
He knew of one such being, and he knew exactly how to have him.
Byron had cut off communication between Anklestrap and O'siaris already, allowing no messengers to leave, and ignoring any that came. Panic would soon be useful, and he was close enough now that it was a chore that no longer needed doing. But he knew how Graiden would react. He was predictable as a snow storm in the winters. An odd trait, for a man who once stole his food and clothing.
He knew Graiden would send someone he trusted to check in and figure out why this lapse in communication had happened, and he knew they would not be just any soldiers. He would send someone closer to him, to keep his worries quiet from the men. There was a chance that Gregorio was not the one he would ask, but he had known Graiden for a long time. The man was simple and just. Graiden had his priorities in order, which meant if he could avoid sending Sahn-Raidar itself, he would.
People outside of their ranks tended to have more freedom and fewer cares about the consequences should they push their luck too far. He thought it poetically fitting that his self-named apprentice would help him, even unwittingly. He would so easily fall into this trap.
Graiden would send him the final piece of his salvation.
He took a deep breath, standing and straightening his armor. Soon, he would make the world scream. Give his goddess all the pain and suffering she desired, and he would be rewarded. He had waited so long to see the faces of those he loved, again. All he had to do was complete this task, and he could be with them again, and wipe away the terrible memories to replace them with vibrant ones.
The world needed a purge. Needed to begin again, as it had before—in the same manner or any other—these Reclaimers were only a means to an end. He would be free when this was all done. He would be the savior of all life, curator of all pain. His goddess had given her word, that he would see his family again.
Katerin awoke the next day to find the inn all back the way it should be, with Fykes and Jon lounging by the hearth.
She spent the day laughing about Jon's stories of the trip, and her worries faded as her cup of coffee drained. She already had very good control of the armor, though when her mood changed the color of the clothing shifted, growing a shade more vibrant when she laughed.
Katerin stood and stretched, after enjoying a day full of merriment and laughter with her companions, and glanced about the mostly empty room.
"Where are you off to?" Fykes asked.
"Graiden had something he wanted to talk about. Not sure what, but I don't want to keep him waiting anymore," she said.
Fykes stood. "Mind if I join you?"
Brazen had disappeared to go spar with the soldiers, and Arjiah was already in the library. "Not at all," she said with a smile. She had been waiting for a reason, after all.
They walked the familiar cobbled path to Graiden's office, then through the large archway. She had been here enough times now to expect the feeling of being watched that fell over her. The chill in her spine was still uncomfortable, but she gritted her teeth and tried to accept it. The man was downright terrifying.
"Hi Lugaria," she said in her best version of a bored tone, waving at the wall.
Graiden looked up from his desk and smiled at them. "Finally. I was wondering when you'd decide to show up," he spoke in a dry tone, but the smile he wore threw the whole thing off. "Lugaria is out right now," he said.
She sighed. Of course he is, she thought. "What did you want to talk about?"
"I have a request to make of you," he began, looking them over. Graiden's face turned, his lips pursed into a thin line. "This is a more... personal matter."
"What is it?" Fykes asked, face serious.
Graiden folded his hands in front of him. "I haven't heard from Byron in over a ten-day, now. After the road was cleared, the caravan arrived safely, but I know nothing more. He missed the meeting to welcome Typhon. Hasn't shown for anything, and hasn't responded to any messages."
Fykes frowned, expression shifting as he processed Graiden's words.
"What do you want us to do?" Katerin asked, looking at him in confusion.
"Go up there, if you're willing. Find him and figure out what's going on. I don't like this. It isn't like him... and I can't exactly go myself."
"I'll go," Fykes said, almost before Graiden finished speaking.
Katerin looked at him and nodded. "Don't worry," she told him. "I'm sure everything is fine."
"You think Holter has anything to do with this?" Fykes asked, his distaste clear in his tone.
Graiden shrugged. "I don't know. This isn't typical of Byron." He stood and pulled something from under his desk. One was a thick, heavy scroll, the other a piece of parchment with a familiar sequence of runes on it. He handed them to Katerin. "I'm sure you can use these. That's the key to Typhon's teleportation circle and a scroll to allow you use of it. It should be ready for use by the time you get there, and it can bring you back quickly."
Katerin tucked them away after blinking at the runes inscribed in thick, metallic and magical ink... "I'll use them wisely."
When they came into view of Anklestrap—three hard days' ride later—Fykes knew something was wrong. The exterior of the mountainside town was quiet. There were very few Dwarves at its entrance. Anklestrap was never quiet, and the lack of familiar sounds and smells left a shiver of unease climbing his spine.
Katerin leaned toward him. "Where do we go first?" Her tone was a whisper.
"Anteal. She always knows what's going on." He hoped, anyway, that Anteal would have some answers.
Anklestrap had never been as quiet as it was today.
Brazen walked behind them protectively, scanning the area. Arjiah moved up beside Katerin, slowing her pace, and the four of them walked close together down the streets, nervously watching every building.
The inn was where the silence was not out of place, and it soothed all their nerves. They sat at the bar and waited for Anteal to finish her current task.
Anteal came from the kitchen with a smile. "Fykes! Arjiah! So good to see you again." She sniffed and pushed her glasses up her nose. "You too, Katerin."
Katerin smiled and greeted her with as polite a tone as anyone could expect. She pulled a well-read book from her bag and set it on the bar. "It was a good read. I appreciate you lending it to me."
Anteal took her book and studied it. As she did, her expression softened a fraction. "Thank you for returning it," she said. She turned to Fykes. "What brings you back here?"
Fykes kept the smile from his face as he watched the women interact. Two very different souls, they were. "Just a visit," he said, casually. "Couldn't come through without saying hello."
Anteal pulled glasses down from the shelves behind her and poured them all—even Brazen—some wine.
"What's going on? The town is too quiet," Fykes asked, once they settled in, sitting sideways on a stool.
Anteal frowned and took a sip of her drink, as if wishing it was something stronger. "Holter and Byron shut down the mining. The whole town, actually... the dwarves are quite upset."
"Shut it down?" Arjiah asked.
Anteal nodded. "Yes. The dwarves are digging another tunnel, under Beymor's direction." She sighed. "The luxian shipments are going to be short, as well."
"Why shut the mines down? What happened?" Katerin asked.
"Dark creatures had been found. They said it was too dangerous to continue. People were dying, going missing," Anteal said, "Byron wanted it closed until the threat could be dealt with. But with the bad reaction, the manor is locked up. No one in or out." She took another sip of her wine, her long ears sinking a little.
"The dwarves threatened violence?" Arjiah asked, still looking shocked, her wine glass untouched on the table.
"Maybe? I know they want to talk about it, but no one will let them in," Anteal said, a somber expression on her face.
Fykes frowned. It made sense why Graiden had not gotten any word back if the manor was locked up. The dwarves here were generally kind. Most of them were without their own clans, and they only had each other to hold a community together. But they were stubborn, and they knew they were needed. "That's a shame," Fykes said, "Do you have the room to put us up for the night?"
"Of course," Anteal said, taking the coins he offered and passing room keys. "Dinner will be ready soon, but it isn't much."
"Isn't much?" Katerin had a confused expression.
"They are rationing the food. With what they give me, I can barely feed everyone who comes," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
"We have food. We brought plenty with us," Katerin said. "We'll be fine."
Anteal snapped a serious, almost insulted look on Katerin. "Nonsense. I won't have people coming to my inn and not being able to eat."
They waited for the evening to come and pass in the quiet town and watched the small crowd of people eat their meal until it was finally polite to leave. They all packed into one of the bedrooms, with its soft golden lighting.
"This is no good," Fykes said, the first one to break the silence.
Arjiah sat on the edge of the bed. "I know. I'm worried about Beymor."
Katerin stayed silent, sitting off to the side. She looked up to find them looking at her. "What?"
"What should we do?" they both said, and her eyes widened.
"Why ask me? You both know this place far better than I do."
"You always have a plan," Fykes said. "You're... always prepared."
Katerin blinked, caught off guard. "Uhm... well, we could go find the dwarves... see their side of this?"
Arjiah inclined her head, "They're off a branch of the lower mines," she said.
"Things aren't good here," Brazen said, "No one is acting right... or feeling right. They look... wrong. We need to fix it."
Katerin's attention snapped to him, her expression softening. "I know. We will."