12 Miles Below

The mission was simple so far - find an elevator, join up with the rescue party and get to the airspeeder. Walking around this part of the underground, knowing the surface was only a quarter mile above us, lent to an eerie feeling. So close to escape, and still a possible stretch of danger to go through.

That spider might catch up to us. Except this time the tables had turned - it only had a window of a few hours at most to ambush us again, before we met up with the search party. Which had five relic knights. One of which was a gods damned Deathless. No amount of firepower could contend against that. The best part in all this is that the critter had no idea either, so it wouldn’t know to rush its plan.

It would be ironic to have it plan out something meticulous to counter the new relic armor and weapons we’d obtained - only to find us with a small army of relic knights at our back. I’d find it cathartic, that’s for sure.

I’d also be perfectly okay to completely skip any encounter with the evil murder-obsessed spider. Let’s just forget about each other Mr. spider? No need to remember old wounds.

It was clear that this welded city had only part-way escaped the ravage of time and it’s neighboring mite-active city. We found plenty of it still active and working. And we also found that near the cliffside, some of these buildings were outright cut in half. As if the ground had been level here once, and then the teal mites from the concrete city next door moved in.

The entire cliff was sheared off in a perfectly straight line. Anything past, was a massive way down. I was walking just above the square mountain face I’d seen while we were escaping the fake city.

This welded city had a far more organic feel to it, as if built from hundreds of different scavenged scraps. We even saw what looked like the hull of an airspeeder used as part of a longhouse.

We hadn’t been exploring around for more than ten minutes before the comms crackled to life.

“Search party to Winterscar.”

“We’ve run into an issue up here. We triggered a wave by accident and had to seal shut a few doors behind us. We’ll need to plot a new way back to the surface once we’ve met up.”

“No losses?”

“Negative. We’re all safe so far.”

“Additional updates?”

“Nothing from our side besides route backtracking being off the menu.”

“Copy. Keith and I are still looking for an entry shaft up. If there are no other updates, Winterscar out.”

I hadn’t heard the term wave being used. From the cues I could get, it was either a new type of automaton, or just a large number of them grouped up. But it must have been something strong to force five relic users to flee and seal the way behind. Including Lord Atius himself.

“Is a wave a new machine or just a group of machines?” I asked, wanting to get the definite answer rather than keep guessing.

“A group.” He said. “Machines don’t usually travel alone down here. Drakes are one exception. There are more unique machines that don’t fit the mold as well, those could travel alone. A wave would be multiple groups that happened to be moving together.”

In a way, machines are starting to sound almost like a social creature. Despite the different kinds, they still flocked together in the dark.

“If they have the way back blocked because of the wave, uhh, will that be a problem?” I asked him, tapping my head so he’d get what I was referring to. We were on a time limit before that booster started causing issues.

“No. I still have hours left before the first symptoms appear. It will only cost us a few more hours to reach the surface.”

“And you’re not lying to me this time?”

He sighed, then shook his head. “No, I have nothing to hide. They will knock me unconscious if we go over time, you will see. Kidra will take over my armor and Atius himself will likely coach her on its use. I’ll be given whatever parts of her environmental suit can fit my size to keep me warm enough and then carried out. Once we reach closer to the surface, or close enough to be mostly safe from machines, we can have a more fitting suit be brought down.”

“That seems… pretty well thought out.”

“Always maximise the use of relic armor. If I’m not making use of it, then someone else must. If we hadn’t found Journey, I would have made sure it’s you walking out of here with my armor when my time was up.”

Unlike the fake concrete city, the pathways here were wide. They looked more built to allow vehicles to pass by. Given how the city was almost built from vehicle parts, it seemed to fit the theme. This was quickly confirmed when we did run into the first elevator.

The hole was massive. A black square vertical tunnel that led both ways, down and up. Clearly built to fit some sort of tank and ferry it up or down. Right now, the elevator platform was somewhere else, leaving the whole shaft exposed.

Father yanked a switch and the world shook. Rumbling from deep under sounded out.

“It looks like everything’s still in shape.” Father breathed out.

“And if the lift is broken?”

“Then we scale the shaft up. It would not be difficult or much of a setback, trust the armor and don’t look down.”

That didn’t sound like a fun time. Journey would make this a lot easier like he said, but still. One slip and you’d tumble half a mile down. Relic armor or no, that’s not something anyone could pick themselves up after the big splat.

“Winterscar to search-party. We’ve found an elevator platform, we’ll be able to climb back up to the upper sublevels.”

The crackle popped in, “Confirmed. We’ll try to approach and meet up near your current position, at our current elevation. Search-party out.”

We waited as the platform slowly ascended. Soon it ground to a shuddering stop at our feet.

“This thing is safe, right? Did we read the small print on the warranty?” I asked hesitantly.

“No. But it’s safer than climbing.”

“If we end up dying from a broken elevator, I’m coming back as a pissed off ghost.”

“Stay close to the walls in case it gives out on you.” Father answered, taking a step into the massive platform. “If you’re fast enough with your hands, you should be safe.”

It had once been made to carry vehicles, that was obvious from the size. I just wasn’t sure if it could actually carry that weight anymore. Or if it had only been made to look the part. The mites that built this could be either amazing engineers or horribly clever artists.

We stepped onto the iron slab at our feet. I took it as a good sign that the lift didn’t immediately break down with our weight added onto it. Father flipped a switch on the inner wall and the platform shuddered, then started to move up.

At first we rose into darkness, the shaft completely enclosed. But up ahead I could see light again. Not the small electronic lights, but more like the end of a tunnel. I got my answer in minutes.

The elevator was open air part way up, held by the spine. The view from here took my breath.

Father walked to the edge, sitting down and letting his feet dangle into the open air, using the handlebar holds at the floor edge to keep steady. I sat down with a bit more hesitation at his side.

"Things will be different now." He said.

I gave him a questioning look.

"The armor. You are a relic knight, Keith. One of us. As dangerous as the underground is, you belong here now."

He waved an arm forward, motioning it all. We were only half a mile up from all our walking, and the fake city sprawled ahead of us. I can't tell where the sunlight came from, considering the dome that stretched above. But the world was still well lit enough that I could see the details.

“I don’t feel in any great hurry to come back down here, after all that we’ve been through.” I said, “I think I’m more interested in finding my bed and hiding under it for a week. And then spending the next week in a hot bath.”

“You think your curiosity won’t drag you back down here? I know you better, boy.”

That… was a good point. Was I going to come back down here myself, or just loan out Journey and live like a fat king up on the surface? If I were smart, I’d take the second option and live in luxury for the rest of my days.

Everything I’d seen flashed through my mind, and everything I still wanted to know gazed back like a void in my mind.

I stayed silent, watching the view as we slowly rose. It was a peaceful moment.

Was the underground terrifying? Yes.

Was it going to keep filing away at my soul until I finally went down again to hunt for those answers? Also yes.

“Fine, maybe I’ll only spend half a week under my bed then. Monday to Wednesday. I'll stick my leg out on thursday and maybe my hand on friday. I’ll take the weekend off naturally. I made a solemn vow to never work on the weekends. Can't be helped.” I chuckled, then gave a big sigh. “You know what's the worst part about all this? You’re right. At some point in the future, I'll find myself down here again. Running around down here, pulling up rocks to see what sort of bugs I can find under it. I had an entire childhood of practice doing just that, would be a shame not to make use of it. Gods, I’ll make one strange relic knight, that’s for sure.”

“Keith.” Father said, reaching out a hand and clasping my shoulder. “I know you will be a great relic knight. You and Kidra both, when her time comes." His voice softened then. "I know that childhood of yours must have been… difficult. After you were born and she… well, I wish- I wish that--” He broke off and remained silent for another beat.

Something welled up in my heart and I froze still. Worried that if I spoke a word he’d shake his head and return to his own silence. I let him continue.

"Could you tell me abo…” His hand didn't leave my shoulder, but he still had trouble

“Yes?”

“... No, nevermind.” He turned away, hand withdrawn.

I prodded. “Why not just say it? We've got time.” I patted the elevator platform, which was still moving at a snail's pace. I didn't want this to end on a silent note like this. It felt like he had something on his chest, something he needed to tell. Maybe it was my brotherly instinct guiding me here, because Father and Kidra both seemed to share the same tell.

Father glanced back at my direction, flinching almost. His left arm flexed, hand opening and closing as he examined it again. “I told you something about my experiences in past missions I've been on, could you… could you tell me something from your childhood? A story or something?”

I gulped, wondering how to word any of this. “I don't think any of it is as interesting as your own stories down here. It was only the street kids and I, running around and pulling pranks and finding our own fun. Oh, and pestering the Reachers about how things worked. Scholar stuff. Numbers, sticks, dirt, you know. Are you sure you want to hear about that?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, before answering softly. “It will take months, maybe even a year to recover from all the damage I’ve built up. But at least once I’ve done my time I could still return to the front lines, so long as I have Winterscar to assist my movements, and my arm.” His left hand opened and closed experimentally as he raised it. “In just a few minutes you fixed something that I hadn’t thought possible. My life went from being over at the end of this mission, to now only put on a minor pause. A few months of recovery is nothing compared to a lifetime. All because you were a scholar. So yes I would like to hear about you."

Memories floated through my mind, and I wasn’t stupid enough to tell him any of the ones that had him in the picture frame. Those were usually bleak. “I’d - uhh, well, sure. I'm just not even sure where to start?”

"How about your friends? These kids that you ran with.”

That was a good enough point to start something from. "Well, since the rest of the Winterscars didn't see any advantage to looking after me, I found myself free to escape down into the hub. That's where I met other kids in the same situation - where they had slipped through the cracks. I kept my ties to Winterscar hidden so they accepted me without issue thinking I was just another. Some had no goals in life. Maybe grow up and tend to the insect farms, or the hydroponics. Except for one of them. He planned to take the Reacher qualification tests. That goal of his became my gateway into the scholar stuff you know and love.”

He gave a mock scoff at that, looking away. "Aye. ‘Suppose I brought this scholar stuff on myself. What is this about a test?"

I had to explain to him more about the qualification exams. Father knew everything there was to know about combat, and knew enough to get by on clan politics within the Retainer castes. How the rest of the castes and lower Houses worked hadn’t been important to him, only vague details.

Retainer houses were on invite only, but other houses had different ways to filter through talent. The different castes had their own ways of sniffing out talent from the mass of houseless. The agricultural Houses were the easiest to get in for example, anyone who spent enough time working alongside them would get an offer. These were huge Houses, maybe even a third of everyone in the clan belonged under one of their banners. Nobody messed around when it came to growing our food.

The Reacher houses had their own filters - a series of tests divided in age brackets. Passing the test did not mean a Reacher House would select the winners, but it did go on a record. The more tests someone took, the more visible they became. The youngest age bracket was for ten year olds, that’s when all the study madness would start.

And with madness came shenanigans. “There was this superstition that the kids in the lower bellows spread, about one particular chicken coop by House Lifebringer’s left quadrant. They said that if you touched one of the eggs, it would bring you good luck on the ten year Reacher test.” I said, already deep in my explanation.

Of course, since I was already part of House Winterscar, I couldn’t take the test myself. But from the group of hooligans I ran around with, Alem had ambitions to join the Reachers. So we studied together. Me out of bored interest at first and to help a friend out - and him out of sheer determination to eek out a more comfortable life.

Alem was looking for any extra bit that would push him over the edge. So naturally, when he'd heard about the magical egg in the chicken coop, it was a done deal.

“Normally, it would be a pretty easy job. Climb over the gate, go into the coop, touch an egg and leave before anyone spots you.” I was already laughing a bit thinking back. Alem was like me - smart in some ways, and an idiot in others. Neither of us even questioned the superstition - or it's origin.

“The group of stewards that were responsible for that coop knew about the rumor of course.”

I’m pretty sure they’re the ones behind it in the first place actually. It was too easy to get to the coop. Maybe hydroponics was a boring job and the adults wanted to have a laugh every now and then.

“They didn’t set up any security to guard against us kids - instead what they had was a rooster. Had the temper of a machine pulled straight from the bowels of the underground. The little monster would chase down anything on two legs that was short enough to terrorize. Which ten year old kids like us were. My friend Alem tried his own luck at sneaking past the rooster the day before he took his test. You can probably guess how that went if I’m telling the story.”

“He failed to sneak past, I take it?” Father asked. He’d been paying close attention as I spoke, almost saying nothing at all. I couldn’t guess why he wanted to know more about my childhood all of a sudden, but I did ask him about the underground before and he’d shared about his life then. Fair is fair.

I nodded back. “Worse. The rooster spotted him, charged at him, and the poor kid panicked and slapped out blindly. Fight or flight response. Slapped the rooster clean in its chest and sent it flying off.”

"Reminds me of a friend of my own." He said. "A few knights knew he was terrified of snakes, so they'd made a prop. Expensive I heard, and they'd spend hours making it. When they surprised him with it, he neither screamed nor ran. Instead he slapped it. In relic armor. That fake snake was more or less obliterated. Everyone learned a lesson that day." He shook his head fondly. "He still gloats about it to this day. I am surprised caretakers allowed a rooster in a position like that. Eventually a child would come around that could harm the bird."

“Maybe a slap from someone of your size and build Father, but Alem was ten and I was barely eleven. These birds would see a slap from us more like an insult.” And none more than that rooster. He took it personally.

“After the slap, the rooster went for blood. I’d swear on Tsuya, you could feel the hatred in its screams. Alem wasn’t given any time to climb out of the coop, so I had to help.”

He chuckled.“So how did you save your friend from death by rooster? Climb inside the pen and try to fight the creature hand to hand?”

I flashed a thumbs down. “No way, too heroic for my tastes. I opened the gate to let Alem run off. I figured that rooster wasn’t going to chase too far past the coop. Any other chicken I’d have been right, but this rooster was on a different level of petty hatred. It chased Alem straight out of the gate and never stopped for anything.”

“Like our spider. At least a chicken is less dangerous.”

He… had a point there. The spider had chased us right out of its own gate come to think of it. Did we just get near murdered by something with the same temperament of a rooster? Life had taken some strange turns for me recently. “Alem ran into the market thinking the people there would scare it off, or at least one of the adults would step in to help.”

I could imagine the day vividly from their perspective. All the adults, busy with a hard day of work, going down to the market to bring back food for the week. And while browsing the goods, some terrified kid runs by on two tiny legs, screaming all the while, with a bloodthirsty rooster chasing behind, unerringly loyal to its mission of murder and mayhem.

A grueling day followed by a single unexpected moment of levity. It was like a matchstick to kindling. The laughter was contagious, spreading like a wildfire behind the screaming kid. People bent over their knees trying to put it under control.

Nobody had stepped in to help Alem because of it. The poor kid had to climb up a rooftop to escape, and the rooster remained firmly camped under, cold calculating eyes keeping track of its prey. Everyone said chickens were stupid creatures, but that rooster had a plan. It knew the kid would need to get down eventually.

“It would hiss at me if I took a step too close. We had to get one of the caretakers to come by and fetch their little monster. Long story short, the rooster was put back into its pen, Alem took his test and passed, and now everyone knows him as the chicken tamer.”

Those days had been good to me. The kids I had run around with all had their issues and we’d banded together because of it. “I’m guessing you didn’t have much of the same freedom I did to roam around. Was your old man as strict as grandmother? I hardly hear anything about Grandfather.”

“He died on the field when I was thirteen.” Father said. “That didn’t make much of an impact in my life. He and I didn’t talk often. I believe he married my mother out of political necessity and hadn’t wanted or cared for children. It would be one thing to have a negligent parent, at least I would know what not to do or be. But since he died, I had no ref...” He shook his head.

I was horribly afraid for a second he really would clam up, turn around and let the subject die off. But he didn’t go silent.

“No.” He said with a sigh. “I can already see where my mind is trying to move this conversation to. There is no explanation or excuses. I could have asked others about how to raise you and Kidra alone. I could have learned what I needed to do. I have no excuse for abandoning you like I did. Your mother would never forgive me if I tried to downplay what I’ve done, or blame my own upbringing as the reasons for who I am. I can almost feel her glaring at me from above.” He chuckled. “She cared too much.”

“I… what was she like? Mom. The Winterscars never did tell any stories about her. I’d heard hundreds about you, they had tons about how you’d win duels, or fight and defeat other relic knights and pirates. But it was like she didn’t exist. Nobody ever said anything about her.”

He turned to glance up at the distant ceiling, slowly approaching as the elevator ascended. When he tried to speak, his voice broke at first. But he rallied anyhow. “...Our House didn’t speak about her, because she wasn’t a Winterscar.”

Wait.

Was there some sort of lineage issue I hadn’t known about? “But the family records show her as Kellen Winterscar?”

“Aye. After she married me. She was houseless originally. So she had no history with the Winterscar, no trace of politics. And she didn’t care to establish any of it either. That’s why I loved her as much as I did. That’s why I felt safe around her. She wasn’t a Winterscar…” He stared up, pausing for a moment. “She would have loved you. Loved you like she loved Kidra. She wasn’t a winterscar, Keith. She was good, and kind, and… and caring." His voice broke. Chest shaking as his voice wobbled. "...And I regret so much that you never were able to experience that. It changed my life...” He stopped. Shook his head, and went silent.

The elevator continued to rise, a steady pace. We stayed like that for a minute, before he spoke again.

“You’d never guess how I met her.” His voice was back and level.

“I had been undercover for an assignment.

She had been a cook working in the bellows. On the side, she was a runner working for a known information broker to make an extra paycheck. Nothing important. Atius had been hunting down conspirators at the time, damned fools who were scheming with outside raiders to coordinate some attack. He suspected they would try to intercept her deliveries.

I spent four months at her side, acting as a common low budget bodyguard. The kind that’s all show and no action. The kind that our targets would feel safe to attack. He fed them false information, making them believe I was wearing fake relic armor to impress clients. The unadorned aspect of the Winterscar armor was perfect for the setup.” A chuckle came out of him. “I never got my chance to fight. Lord Atius manipulated them into setting up an all hands full meeting, and then culled them in one swoop. He called it counterintelligence.”

He took a moment to think of his next words. Trying a few times and then halting mid-sentence, as if it wasn’t the right way to explain it.

Eventually he found his groove again. “We... grew close over those months. She never knew who I was. She couldn’t have possibly known, no resources to even guess. No connections, nothing. She’d even go as far as to cook dinners for me, thinking I didn’t have enough funds to make my own ends meet. She truly believed I was some down-on-their-luck mercenary with only a fake relic armor to my name. Winterscar was some far off House in her mind, somewhere in the upper districts. And so, I knew what she showed me was genuine, without manipulation. I spent so much time doubting at first. It took months before I began to trust.”

I thought about how his life must have been. Grandmother was a sociopath, and the rest of the Winterscars weren’t that far off themselves. Everything anyone did in that House was always calculated. Every favor done, every word, every lie. There were no real friends among my House.

It dawned on me that Mother might have been the only person in his life who’d actually cared for him. Or showed him what that even was.

I had Kidra, and together we could brave anything. But he hadn’t had anyone, had he?

Meeting her must have felt like finding fire for the first time, after a lifetime drifting in the cold. And ten years later, I was born and that fire was extinguished at the very same moment.

“I’m sorry.” I said, glancing down in shame.

“Don't be, boy. It wasn’t your fault." He snapped back "Only a monster would blame a newborn for what happened.” His voice softened and his gaze cast down. “And… and I might have been one, at the start.”

The lift shuddered to a stop, wobbling. I reached out for the handles on the floor to hold me steady. But besides the moment of terror, the elevator held together. Creaking and groaning the whole way. We’d arrived at the top.

Father stood up next to me. “You asked me a while ago why I didn’t leave you behind down here. I know you deserve an answer to that. The truth is... I don’t know why. I’ve been asking myself the same question this whole time, since before you woke up, as cruel as it might sound to you."

"I don't find it cruel. Like I said before, the optimal choice would have been to leave me to die. A Winterscar would have picked that in a heartbeat. If you ask me, I think you're just terrible at being a Winterscar. "

He chuckled darkly at that. "Perhaps I am. I thought I had been following orders to keep you safe at first. That didn’t feel like the truth to me as we made more progress down here. Then I thought I had been doing this for her, because she would have wished me to keep you safe. But the more I think, the more I don’t quite believe that either.”

He stepped off the lift, walking into the dark shadows of the unknown. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel Keith, I was never good at… emotions, like your mother was. She could read me like a book. I might as well be illiterate. My mind is a hundred different thoughts anytime I think about you, even after all these years."

I followed behind, watching as he walked further into the gloom, the darkness slowly giving way to the cavern light in the distance, glittering off his armor.

“If it's for honor, or duty, self-loathing or even some sense of misguided redemption. I don't know. I only know I have to see you safely to the surface. If I knew why… surely, I would have been a better man already.”

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