Unbound

Nestled in the Foot, Isla’s Fiendstone mansion was a luxury that many in the city would have killed to take from her. It was a status symbol among the growing populace, as only the Autarch’s closest allies were allowed to live so close to his Temple. The common folk watched in awe while the stymied nobility peered with undisguised envy.

Isla found both quite gratifying.

The morning had only just broken over the mountains when the others had arrived. Now, she lounged in a well-stuffed leather chair in a wide parlor. Around her, six Chanters spoke over one another in increasing fervor after the events the night prior.

“Do we have a list of casualties?” Anguin demanded.

“The current count is thirty eight with severe burns, eleven with minor scrapes and bruises…and sixteen deaths.” Corein paled slightly after reading, and Isla was annoyed to see that it only made her look more lovely. Elves, she had found, had an unfair advantage in beauty.

“Sixteen. And they claim this Territory is safe,” Anguin scoffed. “What is that Golem doing about it?”

“The Chancellor has not yet put out a response to the attacks. The only statement I could obtain was from Commander Reed, who said that the investigation into the ‘events’ is ongoing.” Corein shrugged her elegant shoulders beneath her silver gown. “The Legion refuses to talk with any of us.”

“They seem just fine talking with Zara,” a Hobgoblin pointed out. “Perhaps because they have established proper channels. Why can we not do the same?”

“For the same reason that Mauvim refuses to meet with us, Fris. The quorum was met and the choice made. We are…illegitimate,” Anguin spat.

Isla agreed with that assessment. The Cantus had spent three days debating their position within this newborn state of Nagast. Chanters had put forth their arguments which had spawned counter-arguments by the dozen, until they had talked through every point Zara had brought to the table. In the end, the Cantus Sodalus had decided to support Zara’s plan for education and recruitment among the populace…and to continue onward under the Autarch’s Oath. The latter was the true point of contention. Of the twenty Chanters that now resided in Elderthrone, the seven in her parlor were those that dissented.

“Our choice is as valid as any other,” Fris stated, her tone imperious.

“Valid, perhaps, but it holds no weight within the Cantus,” Gauruk pointed out. “We can dissent until we’re blue in the face, but the lines of power in this city are being drawn…and we’re left out.”

A rumble rolled through their Spirits, as if a storm was on its way.

If there is one thing this group dislikes, Isla mused. It’s being excluded from authority.

“How has Zara responded to your demands?” she asked, cutting into the uneasy silence.

“With disdain.” Anguin hopped from his chair, as if his annoyance couldn’t be contained in stillness. “The Maven Cyrene has proven herself unreasonable. She refused our entreaties at even the basest level.”

“She won’t let you teach a class? I cannot imagine why,” Isla said over the rim of her teacup. Anguin bared his teeth at her, but was cut off.

“I see her school as a good thing for us,” Sima said. The mousy man wore a light blue jacket and a cream shirt, the collar high up his thin neck. “Many among this city have unlocked their Harmonic stats. Training them for what comes is a definite benefit, but it also makes them sympathetic to our cause. That cannot be underestimated.”

“Nor can our loss of autonomy,” Anguin interjected. His small green fists pounded on the thick table in the center of the parlor. “Besides, ever since the Unbound departed Zara has been pushing her Will upon us. As if she were greater than us just because she found Nevarre first.”

Isla kept herself from rolling her eyes, but only just. Anguin’s bellyaching was ridiculous, because that was exactly how things worked among the Cantus. Those who find and retrieve the Unbound will be lauded above all others, for they are instrumental in defending against the Ruin. Thus far, only Zara and Isla herself occupied that lofty list, and already she had seen its benefits. They were in her mansion, after all.

“Unity is necessary, she says,” Anguin went on. “Yet she doesn’t acknowledge that sharing our knowledge is dangerous. To us and them. How else would you explain the rise in individuals with unlocked Harmonic stats? What was once a rarity is becoming commonplace! Zara claims it is a benefit of the Autarch, but I do not believe it.” The sour-faced Goblin sneered vaguely toward the academy. “There is trickery afoot.”

“It’s not trickery. It’s far worse than that,” Gauruk said. The Orc woman wore a purple jacket that beautifully complimented her dark green skin. “The Autarch has had contact with Primordials.”

The others traded anxious glances and a few half-spoken curses.

Isla had known that, of course. She’d pieced it together well before Mauvim had confirmed it. The others, however, were reeling in shock and confusion.

“So this growth…the unlocking of so many Harmonic stats among the populace…could it be the flesh curse in action?” asked Sima. He fiddled with a quill on the table and looked around as if afraid of the answer.

“If so, then that is reason enough for us to act. The flesh curse of a Primordial corrupts without fail. To be exposed is to be lost, one way or another.” Anguin’s eternally angry expression had faded to something closer to horror. “Where did you hear this information, Gauruk?”

“Mauvim herself.”

If the previous silence had been deafening, then what met the Orc’s words was the Void itself.

“She has made this proclamation public?” Emelda asked, rousing at last from her cup of aromatic tea. Tall, dark of skin and hair, her beauty was only matched by her fury on the battlefield. Many times had a wayward Inquisitor fallen for her charms, only to be confronted by the might of a Sorcerer. If Anguin was the burning heart of the opposition, she was its face. “When?”

Gauruk tossed a letter on the table, and it slid until Isla could clearly make out Mauvim’s seal in wax on the outside. “This was delivered to me yesterday. It is a communication from Mauvim to Zara, discussing the development of the school and how best to gather students among the populace. In it she mentions encounters with Primordials. Plural. And each time, the Unbound Nevarre has returned stronger.”

Emelda scooped up the parchment while others crowded close to peer over her shoulder. Isla merely frowned. She didn’t have to read it to know what was in the letter. She’d been there when it was penned, after all, and had delivered it to Zara herself.

Someone had stolen it from Zara’s office.

“Delivered by whom?” Emelda asked.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Unknown,” Gauruk admitted. “My wards failed to detect their presence—but the letter is real. The seal is verified.”

“Blind gods,” Sima whispered.

Emelda set down the letter. “This is inconclusive. We cannot take a few idle comments out of context, not if we are to approach this properly. Have you corroborated this information?”

Gauruk nodded, her jaw working around her short tusks as if she were chewing on her words. “I have taken the liberty of asking around, and while there is still more to learn, I have found a confluence of events that are too compelling to ignore. A monstrosity destroys Haarwatch, but the Autarch defeats and devours it. Witnesses claim it was a Dragon, but what I’ve heard of its shape was not draconic in the slightest. It was grotesque. Then there were the events in Ahkestria. The Yttin are closed-mouthed about their supposed savior, but they speak of something in the depths. Something formless and harrowing. What else could it be but a Primordial?”

“That is…compelling,” Emelda admitted. “However, this is information that should be brought before the entire Cantus. If Nevarre is compromised, then our vote to work under the Autarch must be reconsidered.”

Isla sighed, long and loud. Every head turned to her.

“Does our host have something to say?” Anguin asked, his eyebrows raised.

“I do. Whether Felix Nevarre has been in contact with a Primordial is irrelevant.”

Emotion surged through the room, but the only sound was from Emelda, who leaned closer. “Explain.”

The diminutive Sorcerer picked at her blue gown, arranging her skirts carefully. “Felix Nevarre has encountered Primordials on multiple occasions. I know this for a fact.”

Anguin leaped from his seat, chair toppling backward. “You knew!?”

“Fact, you say?” Gauruk asked, but far from aghast, the woman looked pleased.

“Yes. He doesn’t advertise, obviously, but he has also never hidden the fact from his inner circle. Have you heard of the sickness that struck Haarwatch, following the Protectors Guild collapse? Its symptoms were fevers and growths on the skin, until everyone stricken fell into a coma…or were changed entirely.”

“Flesh curse,” Corein said from between the fingers of her pale hand.

“Just so. But consider that many lived through those events. Many people that are here, in this city right now. In your questioning, Gauruk, did you not think to ask why?”

The Orc woman’s face creased in consternation. “I—”

“They survived,” Isla interrupted. “Because Felix Nevarre can cleanse the flesh curse from a Primordial.”

“Impossible,” Anguin hissed.

“So I thought when I first heard it, but it is true. The Autarch of Nagast is uniquely gifted in this regard, and it is only a piece of why he is so powerful.” Isla shook her head and her golden curls dangled about her ears. “Were you to bring this up to the Cantus…it would not go well for you.”

“How?” Emelda demanded. “How could he possibly do what none have accomplished in any Age?”

Isla smiled, but it was bitter. “He is Unbound.”

“They’re idiots, Zara,” Isla said. She’d layered a thick cloak over her beautiful blue gown, and looked mad enough to bite through the teacup in her hand. “Utter imbeciles.”

“Oh?” Zara glanced up from the stack of papers she was organizing. The both of them sat within a sparsely furnished room that was a far cry from Isla’s well-appointed parlor. It was not ideal, but it served Zara’s purposes. “I thought you agreed with their rhetoric.”

“I agree that our position within Felix’s little kingdom should be elevated, that we should be guiding the Unbound and not be led around by the nose…but these fools put their pride before the mission, time and time again.” Isla looked up and her dark expression became downright stormy. “Don’t you smirk at me, Cyrene! I know your thoughts.”

“Oh?” Zara repeated. The smirk was unintentional, but now that it was out she let it bloom in full. “Do you know me so well?”

“I know you enough that you’d lump me in with these self-centered twits. I only agreed to spy on them for you at Mauvim’s request. I may not like the way you do things, but you gained the support of the majority, and that means something to me. Does that not prove my devotion to our mission?”

Zara let the smile fall away. “It does, and I thank you for taking on the risks.”

“Bah.” Isla set down her saucer. “I’m sick of tea.”

“Perhaps another drink, next time.” Zara sat down at her desk. It wasn’t as nice as the one in her office at the academy, but it was serviceable for a location such as this. “You said they had the letter Mauvim sent me?”

“They did. I tested the seal before Gauruk ran off with it, too. It was genuine.” Isla shook her head. “Why would she put that information on paper? They were ready to march up to the Temple and take it by force. It certainly forced my hand. I had to reveal Felix’s ability to cleanse the flesh curse.”

“Did they know how they received it?”

“No. Someone just delivered it to Gauruk. That crazy Orc probably stole it herself. I don’t know how, considering it was in your office and that orichalcum door you have—” Isla’s jaw snapped shut over her last words. “You.”

Zara bared her teeth.

“I can’t believe it. You delivered it to Gauruk?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean, but it is a shame that the knowledge of the Autarch’s ability has gotten out. That will surely weaken the dissenter’s position.”

“While strengthening Nevarre’s,” Isla added.

“Truly? I hadn’t thought of that.”

Isla sat back, jaw working as she took things in. “I’d be mad if I wasn’t so impressed, Cyrene.”

“The Ruin is closer with every passing day.” Zara clenched her hands atop her desk. “We cannot afford to be fractured, not now.”

They both sat there, silent save for the faint moan of the last winter winds outside the wooden hovel. Zara’s Mind was awash with a thousand threads all needing to be plucked and pulled, and few were as important as ensuring Isla’s loyalty. The woman was powerful and driven, that much had been clear to Zara for centuries, but their methods had often been at odds. The approval of the Cantus had offered them an opportunity to mend things between them, and Zara had leaped at the chance.

She had promised Felix much when he left for the frozen north, and there was a great deal yet to accomplish.

“Could you not have placed your secret hideaway somewhere closer to the Foot? I had to walk across three districts to reach you.” Isla adjusted her skirts, setting her chair to creaking. “Blind gods, this damnable mud! It splashes everywhere. Look at my hem! Do you think—?”

Zara gestured and a small tendril of Water mana rose from the floorboards before caressing the bottom edges of her gown. The mud dissolved away instantly, and her dress was still bone-dry.

“A lifesaver.”

“Don’t thank me quite yet. I have another request for you, Lady Isla. What do you know of the explosions last night?”

Isla pursed her lips. “Very little. The dissenters were eager to learn about them though. They see the increase in crime as a mark against Felix’s right to rule.”

“Of course they do. That’s why I want you to investigate them.”

“Investi–-I’m not an adventurer or a guardsman, Zara. The city has a Legion, does it not? Let them handle it.”

“The request comes from Commander Reed. His people are spread thin, and he requested you.”

“Me, specifically? Why?”

“A great question to ask him this evening. You’re to meet him at the barracks, along with your partner.”

“Partner? Even if I agree to this, and I haven’t yet, why would I need someone else to assist me?”

“Call it intuition. Besides, the mage wanted to do this. He has a grievance against the culprits.”

“Culprits. Multiple?”

“Are you interested?” Zara lifted a sheaf of papers up from her desk.

Isla bit her lip. “And if I find a reason here for the Autarch to relinquish his control over us? What then?”

“Felix holds no control over you, only a duty of protection for his people. The Oath we labor under is light when compared to the shackles any other nation would place us in. Surely you see that, Isla.”

“Perhaps.” The small blonde Chanter smoothed her skirts once more before reaching out and snatching the papers from Zara’s hand. “Very well. Let us see what dangers lurk in Elderthrone.”

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