12 Miles Below

Wrath hummed with thought. “I see. Miss Silverstride was implying human courtship instead of training.”

Ultimately, walking back from the hour long chat with Ellie, I realized I had to cut my losses quick because otherwise that was begging for her to abuse.

“Perhaps it was a poor idea to eliminate romance writing from my training dataset.” She said, looking down as she walked, hand on her chin. “It was difficult to sort credible data from fiction, I may have made my filters too strict.”

“Don’t think you made a mistake with that.” I said, “If you put a bunch of random books, you’re going to walk out of it with a weird understanding of the world… Well, weirder understanding. I’d say ask Ellie or Kidra for a more curated list, but those two would absolutely find some way to sabotage it.”

“I did not think they were actively malicious?”

I shook my head, “Malicious? No. Always having an ear out for possible chaos? That’s more accurate.”

She hummed thinking it through. “Perhaps asking a neutral party would help? One slightly less inclined to chaos.”

“Good idea, ask one of the Logi’s you worked with to compile something for you that’s more realistic.” Most of our books aren’t brought up by pilgrims, we’ve had plenty of authors write stuff for fun. Surface savages they might call us, but we weren’t all work and no rest.

“Only the clan’s library is monitored,” I said, “Books and novels for fun float around from hand to hand. Should fix up all the issues and possible misunderstandings, thank the gods.”

“I fail to see why this would cause you distress in the first place? My shel… I mean, as a noble Deathless, I am far above humans in such matters. You should feel flattered she believed such a thing.” She even stood slightly taller while saying that without a single shred of shame.

“Ah yep, there’s the ego.” I said, hand reaching out to scruff her hair. I’d gotten used to being around her by now, but there’s no denying Relinquished had built her Feathers off the idea of making them look like models. To’Sefit looked similar, and both To’Aacar and To’Avalis had a jawline that could cut through steel. Probably literally. To’Orda was the only one who’d had his head wrapped up with cloth, what was exposed looked more malformed. “You don’t have to worry about me oh high and mighty miss Deathless, I’m not planning on overstepping my bounds here.” I said. “Besides, she was having some fun at our expense, nothing she truly believed.”

Wrath looked slightly confused at that, frowning instead as if she didn't quite like what she'd heard. The topic was cut short by Kidra walking right into our path, flanked by her usual guard detail. “I was given word you were finished with the Silverstride?”

“More like she got done with us.” I said. “Something happened?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Kidra answered. “If she hasn’t already informed you, Captain Sagrius returned with guests. I’ve been briefed on the situation, and you should be too.”

So he made friends. Makes sense. He’d need to catch an airspeeder to get back here that fast. The captain was many things, but a pilot wasn’t among his skills. “What guests did he come back with? Pilgrims?”

“Pilgrims would be most welcome. What we have instead is a grand warlock from the undersider guilds. An occult master who goes by the name of Hexis. We don’t yet know much more about him other than that he’s arrived with a crew claiming to be here to assist. Most of the clan know there’s a few undersider Airspeeders outside again, although knowledge of the warlock is still under wraps.”

A warlock. Running around in a clan. That seemed like the setup for a joke. “Why would a warlock come all the way up here?” I asked, before the obvious dawned on me the same exact moment my mouth opened up. “Oh. We made too big of a footprint already? That was fast.”

She sheepishly looked off to the side. “That… may have been accelerated by my hand I admit. My time underground, I felt I was obligated to fight back the machines with every tool in my arsenal.”

“The video footage of our duel.” Wrath said, catching up. “The file was in circulation. It would naturally leave the walls of the city with the refugees. The warlock has come searching for you then?”

Kidra gave a sigh, “I am not yet certain of his goals, only that he is around. For now, both of you should remain at arms length from this while I deal with it. The last we want is to antagonize a warlock’s guild.”

“Right.” I said, thinking back on our track record. “Keep out of his way. Sure. That’s gonna happen.”

She did not look at me with any amount of confidence.

Spar practice today was far more active, with Captain Sagrius now returned. I’d asked Wrath about looking into seeing if his soul could be healed and she’d offered to give it a try. But the captain’s priorities weren’t in getting better. He hadn’t been waiting for a doctor’s visit at all. The work-a-holic was still in the sanctum, fighting it out, training with his soldiers. He’d been here since Father had returned to the estate ground. And had been dueling and testing the limits ever since.

Sound was the first thing we heard when we entered the courtyard. Sparks of occult lit the ground as the rest of the knights watched from the sidelines. Father took a step forward, the Winterscar occult blade moving as if it were an extension of his arm. On the other side, Sagrius matched the movement, with eerie precision.

The captain’s movements and attack patterns were recognizable. Clean, calculated, methodical and direct. I’d seen that same style time and time again whenever I had to spar earlier on. Sagrius was running Father’s older combat engram.

The problem is that he was up against the original. Who also happened to be several orders faster than armor was capable of moving at.

It was… odd to see in practice. The same movements and yet Sagrius seemed more like a puppet, filled with gears and cogs spinning around within. Everything was fluid, but lacked a sense of life and breathing. Occasionally glimmers of his original skills resurfaced, usually in a desperate defense, or within the footwork. That’s the only time the patterns were broken down and some life returned back to the captain.

Father switched through the stances and combined what he needed in the moment, now abusing the insane speed a Feather could reach to modify strikes like a torrent of wind, with the crashing power of an avalanche. He really hadn’t taken much time at all to adjust to all the new options the machine shell could offer when it came to elevating his combat. The human body really had been his roadblock this entire time, artificially slowing him down.

No wonder he’d almost never lost fights, he must have felt as if he were fighting underwater, watching his enemies move at a glacial pace and yet being unable to go faster himself. Not anymore.

Sagrius’s own tactics rapidly changed from probing and planning, to defense and analysis. Adjusting what the combat engram fed him. Realizing it would be rapidly overcome. And so attempting to weave together a new set of skills Father could never have known about back when he was alive: The Occult.

Strike after strike, Father battered the guard captain into indefensible positions, threading his blade right where the shields should have triggered. Instead, Sagrius called up on his occult half-dome shield, blocking the cuts. I winced with every hit, knowing exactly how that felt. The willpower needed to keep those running. The captain continued with his doomed fight, bulldozing through the skill difference with sheer willpower. It wasn’t a winning combination.

And yet, two minutes into the utter beatdown, Sagrius was still standing without issue. Attacking back, failing, and being overwhelmed in response. Father did not slow, nor show a hint of mercy. His face remained impassive as he reverse engineered his own prior combat style. Any attempt by the captain to reset the fight, or take spacing, was rejected and punished harshly.

After four minutes of utterly ceaseless attacks, Sagrius finally began to stagger, the last hit being blocked by his standard relic armor’s shielding instead of his occult dome. Only then did Father take a step backwards, sword sweeping across the sparing ground into a halo flourish, returning straight to the sheath as he turned to stalk off the field. Sagrius on his part collapsed down on one knee, chest heaving. His hand hit the ground next, holding him back from complete collapse.

“That will be enough.” Father said after a moment.

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“Not. Enough.” Sagrius said, standing back up, breathing heavily. "Systems functional. Power cells at eighty three percent. Heat within tolerance. I can keep going."

By the end of his words, the voice was mostly over comms, while the captain failed to suck in enough air to keep talking out loud.

“Your body is still human, even if your mind and soul are a hybrid. You need rest.” Father scoffed. “Speak to your others, meditate on what was learned instead. We will continue once you can.”

Sagrius stayed on his feet for a moment, then dropped down like his strings had been cut, falling on his knees and remaining motionless there, chest heaving.

The rest of the courtyard grew back into focus, other knights resuming their sparing and the sound of occult blades clashing along with discussion filled the air again.

Kidra was at Father’s side a moment after. “Your assessment?”

He turned to the frozen captain still kneeling where he’d collapsed. And gave a brief nod. “Your guard captain can tie down any Feather, near indefinitely.”

“He’s that strong?” It made absolute sense in hindsight. He’d outright battered away To’Sefit’s oversized artillery cannons without a pause in his step. That kind of invincible defense was going to hold its own against quite a lot.

“Stronger. This test had limits. Only his use of the shield fractal was allowed. We will test the limits with the other knights allowed to assist.”

“With the other knights assisting him, what are your predictions on his combat efficiency?” Kidra asked.

That got a frown from the old man, as if he were thinking through the battle. “Had the other soul knights within him been allowed to make use of the mirror fractal to weave in strikes of their own, I would have no attack openings. It would be as if I were fighting an eight handed swordsman. Any attempt to attack such an enemy will come with an uneven cost to myself. Had the knights been allowed to use all the fractals at our disposal, including heat, I have no means to defeat Sagrius without tapping into the occult myself, or striking him down from a distance.”

“But?” Kidra asked, sensing the coming objection. “Is there a reason we can’t bring him with us on the search for the division stone?”

Father grunted. “No. He is among our strongest. Sagrius cannot lose against a Feather. He cannot win either. That is what I fear. The speed difference is too far. Stronger skills can only carry you all so far.” Father looked up, watching the frozen metal ceiling above as if it had answers. “Fighting against a pale mirror of my past self, I see any Feather would have inevitably taken me apart. The human condition is too limiting. His armor can continue, but the human inside cannot. We need more. The expedition will lead to both of you to your death if you embark on it. It should be left to Wrath and myself.”

“And the chances of survival if it’s only the two of you?” Kidra asked, head tilted. “Against a dedicated pursuit?”

The frown deepened. “Untenable.” He eventually said, almost as if it had to be grinded out of him.

“And with the rest of our knights, Keith and myself descending down with you? Will the chance of success increase?”

Father growled at that, then stayed silent.

Kidra nodded as if that was expected. “We aren’t stronger than Feathers, but neither are any of us weak. Working together, those machine kill teams cannot defeat us, can they?”

“No. They will fail.” Father said. “It won't matter. You will only buy time. Feathers cannot die. And they do not handle failure gracefully. Each time they fail to kill us, they will return with far harsher odds until they succeed.”

Sagrius stood back up from his kneel, drawing out his weapon. “I am ready.” He said, pointing the tip back to Father.

I tossed in my own thoughts into the ring, before he returned to the fight. “If Deathless teams are able to delve down and succeed, we can too. The expedition to recover the division stone can’t be more than what they face. We have just as many strengths as they would, if not more. We're in a good place right now.”

On his part, he stared ahead, deep in thought. Then drew out his own weapon in his usual flourish and stepped back into the courtyard to continue the fight without another word.

“I think that means I might have a point.” I said.

Kidra nodded. “I understand where he’s coming from. Agreeing with you on anything feels as if I’ve taken a step off the right path.”

Before I could open up a few perfectly valid counter retorts back, Ironreach had walked over with two other clan knights behind him. “Lady Winterscar,” He said, giving a nod to Kidra, then turning to me. “And Keith. Just who I was looking for.”

“Have you business with us, Denmar?” Kidra asked.

“Not with you, my lady.” He said, helmet turning back to me. “Just the young rascal here.”

“I didn’t do it.” I said immediately. “Whatever they told you, it’s a setup.”

He gave a chuckle, shaking his head. “Not sure you can weasel your way out of this one.” His hand reached into a pocket and withdrew a sealed letter. And a candle next to it. I knew what this ritual was. That seal was from the clan lord.

“Not normally used to this part. I just escort the messengers.” He said with a shrug. “But this sanctum isn’t exactly allowing anyone without relic armor to walk around. Or anyone without the clan lord’s explicit blessing. So I’ll have to do the honors instead.” He gave a short cough, then straightened his posture and extended the letter and candle to me.

“To Keith Winterscar of House Winterscar, this message has been delivered from the Clan Lord Atius, with all due haste. You are charged to read and obey the orders within, immediately.”

I gave a look back to Kidra, who shooed her hand at me in a ‘get this over with already’ manner. So I turned back to Ironreach and gave him the traditional response. “House Winterscar stands ready?” And extended my hand out.

The letter was dropped in my hands. Inside, was a short summons to visit the clan Lord - alone. No other words or requests, just that.

The candle turned out to be useless. Air here was too freezing to light anything on fire, so I had to use the fractal of heat to incinerate the paper instead. Nobody had to ask me twice on that part, burning a piece of paper in the palm of a hand is exactly as dramatic as it sounds.

The clan lord’s estate was as I remembered it, only this time the table had two guests. Atius himself, sitting at the head of the table mulling over paper, and Shadowsong standing to his side, arms behind his back. The doors slid shut behind me as the Chenobi skittered away back into the darkness.

“Ah, Keith.” Atius said, smiling. “Sorry lad to drag you back here before you’ve even had a chance to rest, but events don’t wait for any of us. Shadowsong only just arrived as well, so I’ll be briefing you both up to speed at the same time.”

“Not a problem, how can I help?” I said, walking into the room and taking a seat by the other side.

“Have you heard of the guest your captain returned with?” Atius asked.

I gave him a nod, “Just about an hour ago actually. Not much more than who he is.”

“Who this grand warlock is, is a rather easy question to answer. Greedy, unapologetically self-centered, and searching for power with every swing of the icepick. A rather unpleasant fellow to be around, but at the very least honest with his shortcomings. Shadowsong, what did you see in him through the soul sight?”

“Lack of loyalty to anyone but himself.”

Atius hummed. “More or less what I had thought. His loyalty and character isn’t of great importance in the end. What he knows is the meat of it all.”

“Given he’s a warlock, I’m assuming that’s fractals.” I said.

The clan lord nodded, “This old lad claimed to know more than four hundred fractals. And given the discussions I’ve just had with him, I’m inclined to believe that.”

“What do you mean ‘Knows four hundred fractals?” I asked, a little confused. Sure I could recognize some fractals from others by now, but I couldn’t draw them with the accuracy they needed. “Did he just memorize four hundred math formulas by heart?”

“Along with their abilities, uses, and history. Aye.” Atius said. “I hardly believed it at first. However humanity has always been able to reach impressive metrics given enough time. Warlocks are highly specialized and he’s had a lifetime to train under their order. As for why he's memorized that many mathematical formulas, we'll have to find out.”

“Maybe we could trade something to get it out of him?” I asked. "That's a lot of possible havoc we could work with."

“There’s no need to offer anything." Shadowsong said. "He’s within our grasp. We have the means to take what we want.”

To which Atius gave a tired sigh. “Warlocks have always been a traditional ally to my kind Ikusari. While they aren’t in the business of selling things for free, they have always gone the distance in making sure Deathless are equipped for their fight. That kind of long standing alliance is not something I’m willing to ruin for all the others. The guild allowed him to reach clan Altosk out of reputation, and he must be returned to them in full health.”

“A pity.” Shadowsong said, sounding extremely unsurprised. “The last outsiders we’ve let within our halls ended with intentions to harm. Will you repeat this history again?”

“Aye, I have before and I will again.” Atius said, voice growing an octave lower. “There are lines carved in metal that I will not cross, you know this.” The chill passed by his features as quickly as it came. “And we hardly need to apply force either for this case. Hexis is a turncoat to his order, and sees little reason to avoid cooperating with us. As he says it, if not him, another warlock will see the opportunity soon enough. He’s merely ahead of the pack. An opportunist.”

“They use memory to keep from writing down anywhere. The cost of such a training is a lifetime to keep their secret secure.” Shadowsong said. “Why was such an easily sold man allowed to leave in the first place? All that effort, bartered away by the first sight of greed.”

“I asked the same.” Atius said. “Do remember lad, Undersiders have a different sense of urgency than we do. We’ve only discovered the occult’s secrets. Warlocks have known for centuries. And they’ve had centuries to mature and develop, with only a limited amount of fractals to discover in the world. You can see how that would end after so many years.”

Shadowsong nodded slowly. “It only takes one failure point. One betrayer.”

Atius gave a short grin. “Exactly. A secret needs to be revealed only once and the game is over. My leading guess is that those four hundred fractals are the common knowledge shared between all the gulds. Even history and more exotic knowledge surrounding the occult, among their circles it might be trivial to them.”

That’s four hundred and so bits of extra fractals to work with. A stupidly huge repository of power. And apparently it’s all just common crickets to him. Like having a gift basket dropped right on our feet. “What’s the catch? He wants what we’ve discovered?”

“He’s not after our current discoveries.” Atius said. “He already knows such a thing isn’t on the table, didn't even ask. What we have isn’t what’s interested him. It’s what we’re capable of. His offer is to grant access to his fractal knowledge, along with his guidance as an occult researcher. Among our occult research team, he's come to take on an apprentice.”

“And by the occult research team…”

Atius and Shadowsong both turned to look at me. One with a grandfather’s smile, almost as if laughing. The other held a grim and resolute stare, as if mentally preparing himself for a looming trial on his sanity.

“Ah. Right.” I said with a slight gulp. Makes sense why I’d been called in to talk to them. “That occult research team.”

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