Arknos : Gate of Kingdom by LeieSistal | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil
Following
Master LeieSistal
Elie Servantie

In the world of Myths & Legends : Aknos

Visit Myths & Legends : Aknos

Ongoing 8313 Words

Chapter 4: The Slave city

270 0 0

Entering Niaoted

The journey had been long and arduous, the landscape changing from the lush green of the countryside to the haphazard construction of the city outskirts. The sun was just beginning its ascent when Erghana, Kael and Laurent found their horses tethered to a lone, gnarled tree. The animals, though weary and mud-splattered, nickered softly in recognition of their masters.

With practiced ease, Laurent checked the horses for any signs of injury while Kael and Erghana packed away their makeshift camp. As they stowed their belongings and brushed off the remnants of their night's rest, they couldn’t help but cast anxious glances towards the sprawling city that lay ahead.

With the reassuring presence of their horses beneath them, they set off towards Niaoted. The city was a distant silhouette against the dawning sky, its stone walls standing strong against the encroaching wilderness. As they neared, the stone walls of the city became more apparent, rising tall and imposing against the blue of the sky.

Laurent, who had grown up hearing tales of the city’s grandeur but never setting foot in it, found himself captivated by the sight. He had imagined it countless times, but the reality was far more awe-inspiring than anything his mind had conjured. Despite the obvious signs of decay and the seemingly chaotic growth, Niaoted stood as a testament to human resilience and ingenuity.

The path to the city was well-trodden, winding through a series of makeshift settlements. They passed rows of shabby tents and lean-tos, their tattered fabric flapping in the morning breeze. The people they encountered were a stark contrast to the grandeur of the city walls. Their clothes were threadbare, their faces etched with a hopelessness that mirrored the dilapidated state of their homes.

As they drew closer to the formidable entrance of Niaoted, the contrast between the city's interior and the outer limits became strikingly apparent. The city walls, constructed of once gleaming stone, now bore the scars of weather and time. Despite this, they stood resolute and unwavering, a silent testament to the resolve of the city they safeguarded.

The gateway to the city was teeming with life, a vibrant patchwork of beings from all levels of society. All around, there was the ceaseless movement of individuals - merchants with their laden carts, travelers weary from their journey, locals returning from the fields, and children scampering underfoot. The sheer diversity of people was a sight to behold, each person adding another layer of complexity to the city’s dynamic tapestry.

Stationed at the city entrance, the gate guards were an imposing presence. Dressed in armor that had seen better days, they stood with a staunch demeanor that commanded respect. Their eyes, fatigued yet alert, scrutinized every person who sought entry. The trio approached the guards, a sense of unease prickling at the back of their necks.

Erghana spoke first, her voice resonating with an authority that was hard to ignore. "We seek entry into Niaoted," she said, her tone firm, yet respectful.

One of the guards, a grizzled veteran with a face etched with lines of service, eyed them warily. An exchange of terse words followed, culminating in the clinking sound of coins changing hands. The guard gave them a curt nod, his grip relaxing on the hilt of his sword.

"Enter," he grumbled, stepping aside and granting them passage.

Once inside the city, they were immediately swept up in its unique rhythm. The streets were alive with a symphony of sounds that filled the air - the incessant chatter of townsfolk, the rhythmic clopping of horse hooves on cobblestone, the metallic clatter of carts trundling along, the distant toll of a bell from an unseen tower. The air was heavy with an assortment of smells - the pungent scent of human sweat from the laborers, the mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread wafting from the bakeries, and an acidic tang that was difficult to identify yet was undeniably part of the city's unique perfume.

The architecture of Niaoted was a marvel in itself. Buildings rose around them in a variety of shapes and sizes, each with a distinct charm. The structures were an embodiment of an architectural style that prioritized elegance and functionality. Stone and timber were the primary materials, melded together in an array of designs that left one awe-struck.

Most buildings boasted of high-pitched roofs, a practical design choice that allowed rain and snow to slide off easily. These roofs were often intricately tiled, gleaming under the sun in an array of earthy hues. The walls bore the mark of expert masonry, the stones fitting seamlessly together. Generous use of arches and columns added a sense of grandeur, their opulence contrasting sharply with the rustic simplicity of the thatched dwellings on the outskirts.

Tall towers reached for the sky; their tops often adorned with ornate gilded weathervanes that glinted in the sunlight. Decorative dormer windows punctuated the roofs, their glass panes reflecting the cityscape. Cobbled streets wound their way between the buildings, leading to hidden courtyards and open squares, each a hub of activity.

As they walked further, Erghana couldn't help but admire the large, wooden doors that graced the front of each building. Each door was a work of art, embellished with intricate carvings that told tales of the city's rich history.

"It's beautiful, isn’t it?" Laurent breathed next to her, his gaze taking in the architectural splendor.

Erghana nodded, her eyes reflecting the grandeur of the cityscape. "Yes, it truly is," she agreed, a sense of wonder echoing in her voice.

Niaoted was nothing like they had imagined - it was so much more. It was a city that wore its history with pride, the architectural elegance a testament to its storied past. Despite the undercurrents of unrest, Niaoted stood resolute, its spirit unbroken. As they ventured deeper, they could only wonder what other secrets the city held in its heart.

They wove their way through Niaoted, its intricate streets a maze to those without local knowledge. Laurent, however, navigated the city's complexities with an ease that spoke of deep familiarity. His understanding of the city, born from countless stories and legends, served as their guide, leading them through the bustling thoroughfares and crowded market squares. Their target location was a modest inn nestled within a calmer part of the city, a sanctuary for fatigued travelers in search of respite and sustenance.

As the group walked through the city of Niaoted, they came across a bustling marketplace. Vendors called out from stalls laden with wares, shoppers browsed colorful textiles and polished jewels, and a busker played lively melodies on a weathered lute.

One stall in particular caught Erghana's eye - it was adorned with intricately detailed statuettes and carvings of fantastical creatures. She meandered over to inspect the artisan's work, admiring the skill evident in each scale, feather and furred texture.

Her gaze settled on a statuette of a slender cat-like creature, its body exquisitely carved from yellow crystal. Delicate wings like those of a butterfly fanned from its back. Even in statue form, the creature seemed to radiate light and magic.

"Ah, I see you have noticed my Calyssaune," the stall keeper remarked, following Erghana's gaze. "One of our kingdom's most mystical creatures, or so the legends say. It is said to bring great fortune to any who glimpse it."

Erghana carefully picked up the statuette, turning it over in her hands. The Calyssaune was a prominent figure in Lendre folk tales, an elusive symbol of the land's mythic past. According to stories, catching sight of one could turn the tides of fate, heralding a glorious destiny.

She couldn't help but smile thinking how delighted her childhood friend, Princess Seraphin, would be to receive such a gift. The princess had always been enthralled by the fairy stories and legends of their realm.

"How much for your exquisite Calyssaune carving?" Erghana inquired. Perhaps it would serve as a token of hope for the trials yet ahead. For now, the Calyssaune existed only in legend...but in carving form at least, its magic could uplift weary hearts along the arduous road.

After walking more, they finally reached the tavern. This humble establishment was an architectural marvel, embodying the skill and creativity of the city's master builders. Its multi-leveled structure was composed of wooden beams and stone bricks, weathered by time yet standing erect and resolute. The inn's design bore a striking resemblance to the grand manor houses of a far-off land, with its sharply angled roof, elongated windows adorned with delicate stonework, and walls of coarse stone interspersed with herringbone patterned bricks.

The wooden beams supporting the structure were exposed, their darkened color contrasting starkly against the lighter shade of the plaster filling the gaps. The resulting facade was a striking tableau that whispered tales of countless stories and countless lives that had passed within its walls.

Within, the inn was as welcoming as a warm embrace. The air held the enticing aroma of roasting meat and baking bread, blending with the earthy scent of ale to form a delightful olfactory harmony that teased their appetites. The ambiance was warm and inviting, with soft light radiating from wall-mounted torches casting a gentle glow on the wooden tables and benches scattered across the room. At the room's end, a hearth crackled with a comforting fire, its warmth permeating every corner, warding off the evening's chill.

Once they had tended to their horses and secured their lodgings, the trio sought respite in a secluded corner of the bustling inn. The mellow glow of the inn's hearth bathed the room in a comforting embrace, casting long, dancing shadows that danced on the worn wooden tables. The room was filled with the soft chatter of fellow patrons, the clinking of ale mugs, and the occasional hearty laugh. Amidst this symphony of sounds, nestled in a secluded corner of the bustling inn, sat Erghana, Kael, and Laurent. Their wearied bodies relaxed into the worn cushions of the wooden bench, their senses drinking in the warm, inviting atmosphere of the inn.

Platters of robust fare were spread before them, a feast for both the eyes and the stomach. Hearty stews, thick slabs of bread, and wedges of sharp cheese filled the table. The tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and fresh herbs wafted through the air, mingling with the earthy scent of ale. As they delved into the meal, their spirits revived by the delicious food, their weariness from the day's journey seemed to melt away.

Kael started to speak. His voice was a soft hum over the clinking of tankards and the jovial banter of the tavern-goers. "You know, Niaoted has always been a sight to behold. It's the heart of life and commerce here in Lendre," he began, his eyes twinkling under the flickering tavern lights.

Erghana and Laurent leaned in, captivated by Kael's narrative. "The labyrinthine streets of the city are lined with buildings of what might seem like pristine white stone, all draped in ivy," Kael continued, his gaze lost in the memory.

Laurent, who had been attentively absorbing Kael's description, gently interjected. "Actually, Kael," he began in his quiet, yet firm voice that never failed to command respect. "The structures of Niaoted are more of a sandstone finish rather than white stone. That's a minor detail that the books often overlook."

Kael nodded in acknowledgment, an appreciative smile on his face. Laurent continued, his voice steady over the din of the tavern. "Also, the council system of Lendre, once held as a democratic beacon, has recently seen several Maires replaced by those more sympathetic to Garnius' rule. I'm worried that Niaoted might currently be under the rule of one such Maire. But, on a brighter note, the Magic Guild in Niaoted, which holds considerable power and influence, could be our saving grace."

Erghana, who had been silently listening, finally spoke up. Her voice, laced with determination, sliced through the tavern noise. "If Niaoted is indeed under Garnius' influence, we must tread carefully. Hopefully, we can find more information about the princess here. The Magic Guild might be of help."

Her words hung in the air; their weight palpable over the hum of the tavern. Thus, over a meal shared in camaraderie and through the exchange of tales and knowledge, they planned their next steps. The tales of their journey echoed around the room, each word a testament to their shared resolve. Their laughter rang out, a beacon of hope and friendship in the face of the challenges they knew awaited them.

As night began to fall, they retired to their individual rooms, the day's events finally taking their toll. Each room was a cozy sanctuary, the wooden floors covered with thick woolen rugs, and the beds invitingly soft with feather-filled mattresses and warm blankets. The faint glow from the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the timber-framed walls, lulling them into peaceful slumber.

As Erghana drifted off to sleep, she was filled with a sense of anticipation. She was in Niaoted, the city of Laurent's tales, a place that had seemed almost mythical when she had heard about it in stories. Now that she was here, she could hardly wait to explore it, to uncover its secrets, and delve into its history. But for now, sleep claimed her, wrapping her in its comforting embrace as she dreamt of the adventures that awaited them in the morrow.


 

The Slave Market

As dawn broke, the heavens painted a breathtaking tableau of hues, from the deepest oranges to the softest pinks, washing the sprawling cityscape of Niaoted in a soft, golden light. The first rays of the sun pierced through the morning mist, casting long, ethereal shadows that danced upon the cobblestone streets.

The morning air was crisp and fresh, a welcome relief after a night cooped up in the inn. It was laden with the city’s awakening - the distant clatter of pots from a nearby eatery, a far-off call of a rooster, the faint aroma of freshly baked bread mingling with the salty tang of the nearby sea.

Erghana, Kael, and Laurent emerged from the confines of their inn, blinking against the sun's gentle glow. Sleep had been a fleeting comfort, their dreams filled with visions of the task that lay ahead. Their eyes bore a shared determination, but their hearts fluttered with the anxious thrill of a new day – a day that promised the first real steps towards their daunting mission, yet they are unaware of the shocking sight they were about to encounter.

As the day began to unfold, the city slowly shook off its slumber. The Market Quarter, usually vibrant with the cacophony of tradesmen and buyers, was quieter in the early morning hours. The trio moved through the gradually awakening streets, a sense of unease growing within them.

As they delved deeper into the labyrinthine heart of the sprawling cityscape, Erghana, Kael and Laurent found themselves drawn towards the bustling port district. The cacophony of the city seemed amplified here - the raucous cries of merchants, the clattering of carts on the cobblestones, the cacophonous symphony of a city alive with commerce and chaos.

Their path led them towards a section of the market that seemed unusually crowded and boisterous for such an early hour. As they drew closer, the sight that met their eyes was like a blow, knocking the breath out of their lungs.

Before them sprawled a bustling slave market.

Crude stalls and pens stretched haphazardly under the open sky, a stark contrast to the grand architecture and orderly streets of Niaoted. It was as if a wound had been slashed across the city's face, raw and festering. The air hung heavy with the sickening scent of desperation, sweat, and fear, punctuated by the poignant tang of the salty sea breeze from the nearby port.

The market was a sprawling expanse of makeshift stalls and crude pens, stretched out under the open sky like a grotesque parody of a town square. The air was thick with the stench of desperation and sweat, overlaid with the tang of salt air wafted in from the nearby sea. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable tension, an undercurrent of fear that permeated the air like a dense fog.

The people - men, women, and children from all corners of the world - were displayed like cattle, their worth reduced to the price tags hung around their necks. Their eyes, dull and spiritless, held stories of pain and broken dreams. They were a tragic mosaic of humanity, each one a stark testament to the indomitable spirit of survival.

Erghana felt a surge of anger rise within her at the sight. The injustice of the scene was a stark contrast to the city's grandeur, a dark underbelly that tarnished its beauty. She felt a visceral urge to draw her sword, to cut down the slavers and free the people. But Kael, ever the voice of reason, laid a calming hand on her arm.

"Patience, Erghana," he cautioned, his voice a low murmur barely audibles over the noise of the market. "We must tread carefully. Impulsive actions will do more harm than good."

Erghana clenched her jaw, her fingers itching to draw her sword. “My heart burns with the urge to draw steel, to cut the shackles and set these poor souls free. But I must temper passion with wisdom. Impulsive action helps not if all lie dead in its wake.” She thought while nodding. They needed a plan, a strategy to dismantle this abhorrent operation. They couldn't afford to make mistakes.

"This cannot stand.” Thought Erghana, “Such atrocities stained upon the soul of this land, yet all turn away their eyes. Mothers torn from children, the learned reduced to labor... No just realm would allow it.”

Erghana averted her gaze as they passed a young slave girl clinging desperately to her mother, her wide eyes brimming with tears that cut far deeper than any shackles. “Still, this injustice eats at me like a festering wound. To simply walk by feels a betrayal of my oath, a failure of courage. There must be a way to unwind your chains without sacrificing foolhardy lives.”

“We need to move forward Erghana”, said Kael.

They retreated from the market, seeking refuge in a nearby inn. The inn, a charming three-story building tucked away in a quiet corner of the district, offered a sanctuary from the harsh realities of the city. They rented a room, a cozy space with worn furniture and a large window that offered a view of the bustling cityscape. Here, they could rest and plan their next steps.

As night fell, the trio sat huddled in their room, the flickering candlelight painting their faces with dancing shadows. The atmosphere was heavy with the burden of their mission, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"We need to do something," Erghana declared, her voice resolute. "We can't just stand by and let this happen."

Kael nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. But we need to be smart. We can't just storm the market and free the slaves. We need a plan."

Laurent chimed in, his eyes alight with determination. "Then let's come up with one. Let's find a way to free these people and put an end to this atrocity."

As the night wore on, they brainstormed, their minds weaving a web of strategies and ideas. They had a daunting task ahead of them, but they were not deterred. They had a mission, and they would see it through, no matter the cost.


 

Rebel encounter

As the sun began to set over the bustling city of Niaoted, Erghana and her companions found themselves seeking refuge in a dimly lit tavern. Exhausted from their day of exploration and investigation, they knew they needed to take the time to gather their thoughts and plan their next move.

Sitting around a wooden table in a corner of the tavern, Erghana, Kael and Laurent discussed the intricacies of the market system they had observed earlier. They pondered the size of the market, its security measures, and the potential obstacles they may encounter while attempting to infiltrate it.

As the candle flickered, casting eerie shadows on their faces, the conversation shifted to their findings. Each member shared their observations and suspicions, their voices hushed and filled with anticipation.

Next day, they decided to explore more of the market system, what security, how big it is. The tavern's din faded to background noise as the cloaked figure approached their table. Erghana's muscles tensed reflexively, ready to reach for her sword at the first sign of threat.

"Peace, friends. I mean no harm," the stranger said in a muffled voice, slowly raising open palms in a gesture of goodwill.

Erghana relaxed slightly but kept her senses on high alert, scrutinizing the hooded figure. "Then speak your purpose."

The stranger glanced cautiously around the crowded room before replying. "These walls have ears. Meet me at dusk tomorrow, in the ruined watchtower on the city outskirts."

Before Erghana could respond, the figure retreated swiftly into the shadows of the tavern. Erghana and her companions exchanged puzzled, wary looks.

"An ambush?" Kael wondered out loud, instinctively distrustful.

"Or an opportunity," Laurent countered thoughtfully. "We should at least discover their intentions."

After heated debate late into the night, curiosity, and intrigue compelled Erghana to meet this mysterious figure.

As the sun's last rays faded behind crumbling ramparts, Erghana's hand rested on her sword hilt while she scanned the ruins for any sign of deception. A slim silhouette emerged from the shadows.

"You came. Good," said a feminine voice with a trace of an elven lilt. Torchlight revealed sharp blue eyes beneath the stranger's drawn back hood. "I am Rhea. I lead a small band of rebels seeking to undermine the bandits who have seized control of Niaoted."

Erghana raised a questioning eyebrow. "To what end?"

"To restore justice," Rhea replied fervently. "To see the city governed by a leader chosen through consensus, not fear and force."

Erghana pondered this development. While their ultimate goals differed, disrupting the bandits aligned with her mission to some degree.

"And how might we humbly assist your cause?" Erghana asked, choosing her words carefully.

Rhea's eyes lit up with hope. She proposed discreet acts of rebellion - raiding supply caravans, freeing prisoners, gathering intelligence on troop movements.

Erghana recognized potential in cautiously aligning with these rebels. Well-timed acts of disruption could aid her own quest to depose the bandits without attracting unwanted attention from the authorities.

Over the following weeks, Erghana, Kael and Laurent covertly assisted Rhea's group in small raids and escapes, bonding with the rebels through their shared desire for justice. Erghana found herself impressed by their cunning, tenacity, and knowledge of the city's secret ways.


 

Disrupting the City

The bustling port city of Niaoted was a dichotomy of grandeur and squalor. Its winding streets and alleys were lined with buildings that reflected the height of craftsmanship and opulence, their sandstone bricks carved into ornate facades and accented with wrought iron balconies. Yet in the shadows of these architectural marvels lurked the city's grim underbelly - beggars in tattered rags, hungry children with hollow eyes, and all manner of shady establishments catering to society's seedy elements.

Since Rolman and his bandits swept in and seized control, the decay had only grown worse. Entire neighborhoods now lay abandoned, their residents having fled or mysteriously disappeared. The once vibrant marketplace was now subdued, merchants keeping their heads down rather than hawking their wares. An ever-present gloom hung over the city, as if the very life was being drained from it.

Erghana's heart ached at the sight of the suffering around her. She had grown fond of the city during their initial days here, admiring its unique charm and character. To see it brought so low fueled her determination to cast off the tyranny that gripped it.

Tonight, under the moonless sky, she and her companions would strike another blow for the rebellion. Rhea had received word of a merchant convoy arriving soon, laden with supplies destined for Rolman's forces. Intercepting it could both boost the rebels and deliver a sharp jab to the bandit leader's operations.

They gathered in a derelict building on the outskirts, going over the plan once more. Kael kept watch at the boarded window, peering out for any sign of the convoy's approach. Laurent sat nearby, leafing through a battered grimoire, hoping to find an obscure spell that may offer an edge.

Rhea and several other rebels were scattered at key points around the city, ready to spring their trap once Erghana gave the signal. The plan was risky, relying on stealth and surprise, but the prize would be worth it if they pulled it off.

Finally, Kael signaled that the convoy was nearing the city gates. Erghana and her team swiftly slipped into the night, flitting from shadow to shadow with practiced ease. As expected, Rolman had sent only a minimal escort - just two mounted guards accompanying a wagon pulled by a team of oxen. Clearly, he had begun to let his guard down, assured in his control of Niaoted. That would be his folly.

With hand signals, Erghana directed Laurent and Kael to circle around, coming up behind the guards. She would keep pace with the convoy, waiting for the moment to strike. Her breathing slowed, senses heightened, sword loose in its scabbard. Her companions faded into the darkness.

Up ahead, the creak of wagon wheels and shuffling ox hooves marked the convoy's steady progress. The guards rode nonchalantly, chatting in low voices, as the city gates came into view. The driver clicked his tongue, urging the oxen forward with a snap of his reins.

They were almost at the gates. Now was the time. With practiced grace, Erghana launched from the shadows. Before the guards could react, she pulled one from his saddle, muffling his cry of surprise with a gauntleted hand. She could just make out the sounds of struggle behind her as Kael and Laurent dispatched the other.

Working quickly, they dragged the unconscious guards into the alley, binding and gagging them securely. Meanwhile, Rhea's rebels emerged to seize control of the wagon and oxen. The guards had been neutralized before they could raise an alarm. So far, so good.

With Rhea now driving the wagon, the disguised rebels made their way through the gates unchallenged. The raiding party snaked its way through the streets, heading for the safehouse on the far side of the city. Erghana's breath caught in her throat as they rumbled past a patrol, but the bored guards didn't spare them a second glance.

Finally, they reached the safehouse, an old warehouse left vacant after the city's mages were ousted. Hidden away from prying eyes, it made for an ideal base as the rebels transferred the wagon's precious cargo inside.

Erghana let out a sigh of relief. That was one convoy that wouldn't be reaching Rolman's forces. "You should get out of here," she told Rhea. "No telling when they'll discover those guards."

Rhea nodded, snapping orders to the other rebels. In minutes, all traces of their presence were erased with practiced efficiency. Another successful blow against Rolman's grip over Niaoted.

Yet Erghana knew the bandit chief would not take this loss lightly. Retribution was sure to follow. They had to be swift and unpredictable with their strikes, keeping Rolman off-balance. A viper was most deadly when cornered.

As Rhea's rebels dispersed, Erghana, Kael and Laurent decided to rest for the night. They would help take some of the supplies to the rebel camp at dawn.

After their successful raid, Erghana and her companions continued working closely with Rhea's rebel group to disrupt Rolman's operations in the city through covert attacks targeting supply convoys and armories. Each small act of rebellion was a needle prick against the bandit lord's ego.

Some weeks later, Erghana crouched behind a crumbling wall, the cool night air raising goosebumps on her skin. She peered around the edge at the barracks across the dusty courtyard, lit by the flickering torches of the two bored guards flanking the entrance.

According to the rebel spies, this building housed new recruits - boys as young as twelve ripped from their families to fill the ranks of Garnius's armies. Erghana had to get them out before they were sent to the grinder of war.

With subtle hand signals, she motioned for Kael to circle around the back of the barracks while Laurent prepared his distraction spell. Her heart pounded as she waited, muscles coiled tight in anticipation. She said a silent prayer, hoping the information was accurate and this wasn't a wild goose chase.

A shimmering illusion of a raging fire suddenly sparked to life near the barracks gates. The guards yelled in alarm, immediately rushing to grab buckets of water. Seizing the opening, Erghana darted from her hiding spot, keeping low as she raced across the moonlit courtyard. Kael appeared from the shadows and joined her as they slipped inside the now unguarded entrance.

The air inside was heavy with the smells of unwashed adolescent bodies, stale hay, and fear-laced sweat. Erghana had to suppress a gag reflex as her throat clenched at the sight of rows upon rows of sleeping youths crammed together on makeshift pallets on the dirt floor. Squinting in the dim light, she could see that some appeared to be no older than fourteen.

She crouched next to one of the nearest boys, gently shaking his bony shoulder. He awoke with a start, eyes wide in the darkness as he stifled a yelp. Erghana quickly pressed a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. "You're safe now," she whispered. "We're getting you out of here."

The boy blinked in confusion but seemed to sense she meant him no harm. As Erghana moved among the sleeping forms, she tapped each one lightly to wake them while holding a finger to her lips. Kael kept watch near the door, one hand gripped tightly on the pommel of his sword.

Within minutes, two dozen boys were roused from their fitful slumber. Some scrubbed at their bleary eyes while others simply sat in tired resignation, too exhausted to question this disruption in the night. A few of the older ones looked ready to fight, likely conscripts who remembered the violent way they'd been torn from their villages.

But when they saw only a woman and a lone warrior waking them, not armored guards come to torment them, the fight seeped from their limbs. Some began crying silent tears born of equal parts relief and fear.

Erghana quickly motioned the boys to their feet, putting her fingers to her lips again for quiet. Like specters, they rose on shaky legs, some having to lean on their comrades for support. She hurried them towards the rear entrance where Laurent was waiting to usher them into a waiting wagon.

Their urgent flight through the night was marked only by the muffled scuff of bare feet on hard dirt, the creak of wagon wheels, and some stifled sobs. Erghana's throat constricted with emotion as she watched the last recruit safely climb aboard under Laurent's supervision. Her heart swelled knowing these lives were now spared from being tossed into the maw of Garnius's war machine.

Add a discussion with one of the kid, named Palio. They should bond.

Yet at the same time, it broke remembering the many other youths she couldn't reach this night. Boys just like these currently slept in other barracks, still unaware of the grim fate awaiting them come dawn.

For now, this small victory had turned the tide for two dozen lives. Each child pulled from the barracks in stealth brought that hoped-for peaceful future one step closer. Erghana knew true change came gradually, through a thousand tiny acts of conscience, until the light finally outshone the dark.

Back at the rebel camp on the city outskirts, the mood was somber. The infirmary beds overflowed with the wounded from their all-too-frequent clashes with Rolman's forces. Young rebels moaned in pain as a harried medic changed dirty bandages and stitched amateur sutures by candlelight. The medic's face was gaunt and drawn with exhaustion beneath the flickering glow.

Erghana's heart ached at the evidence of the rebels' suffering. If only there was some way she could ease their pain. Her mind turned over half-formed possibilities until Laurent gave voice to the seed of an idea.

"Legend says the old healing halls within the mages' guild once housed balms and artifacts of wondrous power," he said wistfully as he ground fresh poultices. "If only we could access such magic again..."

The comment sparked an idea in Erghana's mind. The guildhall still stood abandoned on the far side of the city, its gates barred and forgotten since the mages' purge. What treasures might yet lay hidden in its dust-covered depths?

Erghana's eyes lit up with newfound hope. "What if we sneak past Rolman's men and take back those relics? The guildhall still stands abandoned across the city."

"Perhaps we could find a way to breach the hall and retrieve any medicinal left behind," Erghana mused. "It could mean the difference between life and death for our injured friends."

The others nodded solemnly, realizing the truth of her words. With Rolman's forces guarding the guildhall, it would be challenging. But the potential rewards outweighed the risks in their minds.

Under the cover of darkness, Erghana led her hand-picked team towards the imposing edifice of the old mage's guildhall. The building loomed before them, its arched doorways and intricate stonework faded by time and neglect. Once it had stood as a bastion of magical knowledge, but now only shadows stirred within its abandoned halls.

Kael kept watch as Erghana and Laurent examined the barred front gates. Laurent trailed his fingers over the intricate runes carved into the weathered wood. In his other hand he clutched his mage's staff, crafted from enchanted wood and adorned with various crystals - the conduits through which he could channel magical energies.

Laurent's brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to decipher the gates' runes. "A warding spell," he murmured. "Designed to bar passage to those with ill intent. But if I can just..."

Closing his eyes, Laurent began whispering an incantation while focusing his mind on the azure light crystal embedded in his staff. Azure crystals were attuned to mystical energies and mental acuity. As he traced the runes' shapes in the air, their meaning became clear in his mind's eye. After several long moments, a faint click sounded from within the gates' lock as the warding spell was counteracted.

Laurent's eyes opened, glinting with triumph. "It worked! My counter-spell neutralized the ward."

Erghana grinned and gave Laurent an approving clap on the back. His skills as a mage were proving invaluable. With the gates unsealed by magic, gaining entry would be much simpler.

Soon the team was slipping through the shadows of the guildhall's cavernous interior. Their footfalls echoed faintly through the dust-covered halls. The air was heavy with the tang of ancient magic, sending a tingle down Erghana's spine. What wonders and secrets had these walls witnessed?

Guided by the rebels' instructions, they headed towards a hidden access tunnel said to open near the guildhall vaults. But finding it would require deciphering the maze of winding hallways. Erghana traced her hand over faded murals depicting historic moments in the guild's past. If these walls could speak, what tales would they tell?

Before long, the maze stymied their progress. Endless identical archways left them confounded. Laurent, his brow furrowed in concentration, once again came to the rescue. Selecting a sun-shaped crystal from his staff, he focused its power into a concentrated beam of light. Sweeping it over the stone walls revealed the barest outline of a winding path carved into the masonry.

"A guide path, hidden to the unaided eye," Laurent explained, his voice echoing in the empty hall. "But revealed by the light's aura."

Following the glowing symbol, the team continued onwards until arriving at a nondescript section of wall. If not for the carved path, it would have seemed wholly unremarkable. But at Laurent's touch, a segment of the wall shifted with a grind of stone on stone, revealing a lightless passage beyond.

One by one, they slipped into the tunnel, their way lit only by Laurent's staff crystal. It was slow going in the dark, cramped space, but the tunnel's secrecy was essential to their clandestine operation.

At long last, the tunnel opened into a small storeroom, its shelves and cupboards coated with years of dust. But they had reached their destination - the guildhall vaults, and with them, the invaluable magical remedies needed for the wounded rebels.

Working quickly but carefully, they loaded satchels with vials of shimmering tonics, bundles of dried herbs, and strange artifacts of unknown power. Erghana kept watch at the door, one hand drifting to the sword at her hip. Though she doubted guards still patrolled these abandoned halls, caution was ever prudent.

Her inner fire smoldered within, but she lacked the focus to ignite more than a few sputtering embers along her blade’s edge. The power within her blood, so stubborn and unwilling, seemed to taunt her with its untamed potential. Someday, she swore she would master it fully.

In due time, their task was complete. Laden with satchels and boxes brimming with magical treasures, they made their way back through the dusty halls towards the concealed tunnel. It was slow going in the dark, but at last they emerged triumphant into the rebel camp under the light of dawn.

"These will save many lives, my friends," Erghana said, relief in her voice as they took stock of the retrieved medicines. Though the night had been long and arduous, their efforts would be rewarded in the rebels whose pain could now be eased.

The guildhall still held many secrets, waiting to be rediscovered. But their mission tonight was accomplished - the magical treasures would bring hope and healing after so many years forgotten in the depths.

Despite its dust and disuse, the guildhall retained a certain grandeur. Intricate stonework adorned its arched doorways, now leading only to empty offices devoid of life. Strange symbols were etched onto the walls, their meanings lost to time. The trio tried to make themselves comfortable in what was once the great hall.

"To think this used to be the stronghold of Niaoted's mages," Laurent murmured, trailing a hand over the carved runes. "Rolman and his thugs have no idea of the power this place once held."

Kael gave a noncommittal grunt, already laying out his bedroll on the floor. But Erghana saw the spark of curiosity in Laurent's eyes. She too felt drawn to the history that seemed ingrained in these walls. What secrets had the mages' guild held?

Despite her lingering questions, exhaustion soon claimed Erghana. She drifted off to sleep on the cold stone floor, the guildhall around her now silent.

Some hours later, she was startled awake by a hand clamping over her mouth. Her eyes shot open, muscles tensing for a fight even as her mind struggled to shake off the fog of sleep.

"Quiet!" a voice hissed near her ear. A young man, clad in robes made dingy by long use, peered down at her anxiously. Erghana willed herself to relax as she realized this was no bandit.

Kael was already awake, one hand on his sword hilt even as he raised the other in a peaceful gesture to the half dozen other robed figures surrounding them. Laurent stirred more slowly, mumbling in confusion until comprehension dawned along with full wakefulness.

"We mean you no harm," the man said, slowly withdrawing his hand from Erghana's mouth. "We needed to be sure you weren't aligned with the usurpers."

Erghana sat up cautiously, eyeing the ragged group. Their clothing may be worn and dirty, but the quality of the fabrics hinted at their former status. The intricate embroidery on one man's cuffs, though faded, bespoke noble lineage. And the woman supporting an elderly mage had calluses on her fingers - likely a former scribe or scholar.


 

Niaoted’s Magic Guild

"You're remnants of the guild, aren't you?" Erghana guessed, suspicion turning to dawning understanding.

The man nodded. "After Rolman's purge, those of us left were forced into hiding. We've been trying to preserve what knowledge we can." His face was etched with grief at the memory.

Erghana felt a pang of sorrow at the mage's words. She had heard tales of the renowned magic guild that had once stood tall and proud in Niaoted. To see its surviving members reduced to living like rats hiding in the shadows was deeply troubling.

"I am sorry for what has befallen your order," she said gently. "Rolman and his brute squad have much to answer for."

The lead mage, who introduced himself as Jonas, nodded sadly. "Aye, they stormed the guildhall and dragged off half our number to Norak-knows-where. The rest of us barely escaped with our lives."

His companions murmured in agreement, their faces etched with remembered fear and pain.

"But we did manage to rescue some texts and artifacts before the guildhall was ransacked," Jonas continued with a glimmer of pride. "Kept them hidden down here all these years."

Erghana's interest was piqued. Ancient magical knowledge could be invaluable in their fight against Garnius. And these texts may contain clues to the princess's whereabouts.

"Might we take a look at some of these rescued works?" she inquired. "Any information you have preserved could aid our quest."

Jonas considered for a moment before nodding. "Aye, I suppose a peek won't do any harm. And we've little use for them stuck down here in the dark."

He led Erghana, Kael and Laurent further into the guildhall's musty depths, towards a small chamber lined with half-rotted bookshelves. Laurent's eyes lit up as he reverently trailed his fingers over the dusty tomes and strange artifacts. Erghana scanned the titles engraved into cracked leather covers, searching for any mention of royal lineages or prophecies.

Meanwhile, Kael kept a wary watch on the guild mages. While they seemed sincere enough, years in hiding could have twisted hearts in unpredictable ways. Best to stay alert.

After some time sifting through the archives, Laurent let out an excited gasp. He held up a tattered scroll, eyes shining in the dim light.

"This appears to be a treatise on crystal mastering," he explained eagerly. "The techniques described here could really help expand my knowledge on magical crystal."

Jonas chuckled at the young mage's enthusiasm. "Aye, crystal mastering was never my specialty. Feel free to study it, lad."

Erghana hid a smile. She was glad to see Laurent's spirits lifted after the somber events of late. His love of magic was a heartening reminder of better days to come.

Her search uncovered no concrete leads, only vague prophecies, and patchwork histories too fanciful to separate fact from fiction. But there was value here nonetheless - each scrap of rediscovered knowledge was a small victory against those who had tried to destroy it.

As Laurent eagerly poured over his newly discovered texts, Erghana quietly conversed with Jonas about the tragedy that had befallen the guild. He spoke of watching lifelong friends dragged away in chains, magical artifacts smashed by brutish hands.

"Why did Rolman target your guild so viciously?" Erghana asked.

Jonas' face darkened. "He feared magic, as tyrants often do. Our power threatened his control of the city. He spun lies that we plotted against him, that our arts endangered the people." His voice shook with remembered anger. "And the people, fool-minded with fear, turned against us."

Erghana placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry such hatred was unleashed upon you. But the people were misled. Magic should be used to protect them, not shunned."

Jonas gave her a sad smile. "Aye, you speak wisdom. If only we had reached out to the people, shown them our good hearts instead of walling ourselves off in mystery and silence." He sighed deeply. "But the past cannot be undone. We must seek a new path forward."

Erghana nodded. "And together we can forge that path. Your guild's knowledge, combined with our allies' strength in arms and the people's courage - that is how we will defeat tyrants like Rolman and Garnius. By standing united."

A spark of hope flickered in Jonas' eyes. "A fine dream. And we would be glad to offer what meager skills we still possess." He extended a hand. "You and yours seek to free this land from evil's grip. Wherever that road may lead, you shall have our friendship."

Though they had found no solid leads in the archives, Erghana was heartened by the guild mages' courage and resolve. She knew now that friends awaited them, even in the shadows.

Night had fallen by the time they emerged from the lightless depths of the guildhall. Erghana inhaled the fresh night air deeply after so many hours below. The moon hung bright and full above the slumbering city.

"We should rest," she told her companions. "Tomorrow we can discuss how to best assist the guild." Helping rebuild it, even in secret, could sway the people back to their side when the time came.

Kael and Laurent murmured agreement, both looking thoroughly exhausted. The day's discoveries had fueled their minds but drained their bodies.

Jonas offered them shelter for the night within the guildhall's less dilapidated upper rooms. They gratefully accepted, too tired to make the full trek back to their inn. Sleep came fast once they had bid the guild mages good night and settled down on makeshift beds of moth-eaten carpets.

When morning came, Erghana was awakened by a gentle breeze caressing her face. She opened her eyes to find one of the room's narrow windows had come open in the night, its ancient hinges finally surrendering to decay. Pale sunlight streamed in along with the crisp morning air.

Down below, the city was beginning to stir. The distant calls of tradesmen hawking their wares drifted up from the streets, along with fragrant scents from the bakeries. For a moment, Erghana could almost forget the troubles that plagued this place. It felt like a normal dawn in a normal city awakening to greet the day. But she knew that beneath that borrowed calm, tensions still simmered.

Her companions were also rousing themselves, reluctantly shaking off their slumber. Kael rose and began meticulously checking his equipment and armor for any damage the stone floors may have inflicted overnight. His sword received extra attention, the dedicated warrior carefully honing its already razor-sharp edge.

Meanwhile, Laurent sat nearby peering intently at the ancient tome on Crystal Mastering he had claimed the previous night. Erghana suspected he had been up for hours reading by candlelight, so eager was he to unlock its arcane secrets. She hoped his enthusiasm could be tempered with wisdom – magic was a double-edged sword that could cut both ways if handled recklessly.

As Erghana, Kael and Laurent delved deeper into the archives, Laurent came across an ancient scroll tucked away in a dark corner. Brushing away cobwebs, he unfurled it slowly, eyes widening as he scanned the faded script.

"This cannot be..." he murmured. "The legends spoke only of myth and fancy."

Erghana and Kael leaned in, peering over his shoulder at the scroll illuminated now by Laurent's magelight. Strange diagrams covered the vellum, depicting enigmatic symbols and unfamiliar constellations.

"What have you found?" Erghana asked.

"According to old tales, the mages delved into secrets better left undisturbed in search of power over life and death itself," Laurent said slowly. "This scroll may depict the location of a portal said to bridge our world with realms beyond mortal ken."

Kael's brow furrowed. "Why would Garnius be interested in such lore?"

Before Laurent could reply, the aged parchment began to glow, emitting an otherworldly hum that raised the hairs on Erghana's neck. A burst of blinding light erupted, forcing them to cover their eyes-

When they opened them again, the scroll had vanished. In its place hovered a shimmering portal pulsating with unknown energies, stretching endlessly above and below.

 

 

After exploring the abandoned guildhall and meeting the surviving mages in Niaoted, Erghana and her companions returned to their inn to rest and ponder their next move. But the day's revelations still weighed heavily on Erghana's mind, making sleep elusive.

In the stillness of the night, her thoughts returned to the slave market they had witnessed, and the captive people awaiting liberation. She had walked away once before, but the memory of their despairing eyes haunted her.

As the pale light of dawn crept into her room, Erghana rose with newfound resolve. Today would be different. Today they would act.

She roused Kael and Laurent, speaking in hushed but urgent tones. "We cannot delay any longer. We must free those slaves or die in the attempt."

Her companions saw the fervor in her eyes and did not argue. Plans were hastily laid amidst the breaking light. Erghana's hands shook with anticipation as she donned her armor, but her gaze remained steady.

The city was just beginning to stir as the trio slipped silently into its cobblestone streets. Their path wended its way inexorably towards the market square, where the slave pens and platforms waited. Erghana steeled herself, pushing down the knot of dread that threatened to paralyze her.

There could be no hesitation now. Failure already haunted them, but it had taught her one vital lesson - action was the only antidote to injustice. She would see the lesson through or fall in the trying.


 


Support LeieSistal's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!