Chapter 29 - The Day After
The next morning, the sounds of junior initiates doing chore work bounced through the halls. The heavy thud of water-filled buckets and the scratch of corn-husk brooms brought life to the otherwise silent stone.
Alexander looked over from his extravagant bed to the other two shapes in the room. Siurad lay sprawled out on his mattress near the entrance. Yona was snoring against a wall that looked as if it had been carved before the dawn of civilization. Then, his gaze drifted to the edge of his own bed, where two violet eyes sat staring at him. It was Rune, the recently acquired shadow wolf, who seemed to have taken a liking to him. This early in the morning, it was hard to tell if the intense gaze was infatuation or hunger.
“Good morning,” Alexander said timidly.
The two unblinking eyes stared back at him before a large maw stretched impossibly wide in a cavernous yawn. The wolf laid its heavy head back on the floor, allowing Alexander's heart palpitations to cease.
“Thank the Light,” he muttered.
He pondered the situation he found himself in. It felt like only yesterday he had thrown himself between Siurad and Guil. Now, he was starting to wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake. It wasn't because he was being used as bait for this harebrained scheme to infiltrate a cult, and it wasn't the large, furry death machine currently guarding his bedside. It wasn't even that his travel companion was an admitted murderer, or that Yona possessed a psychological compulsion to steal.
It was the ring on Siurad’s finger. Alexander had heard both of his companions conversing with thin air, which could have been dismissed as madness or a possessed artifact—which, technically, it was. But the truth was far worse. The ring was tied to a forgotten, long-dead empire. And as of last night's developments, that connection had manifested in the form of a lich and two enormous skeletons.
I only had three rules, Alexander sighed.
He had joined this group on three conditions, and the biggest one was no undead, no necromancy. That boundary had been thoroughly shattered yesterday when he met Vex, an undead lich, along with Steve and Julia, the aforementioned enormous skeletons.
He arose from the bed, stretching his arms wide and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He reached for his glasses, careful not to step on the massive wolf who appeared to have dozed off again.
He decided he would write a letter home. He didn't know how he would send it, but if things went the way he suspected they would, and his lifeless body was one day recovered, he hoped someone would find the parchment and tell his grandfather what had happened to him.
But before he wrote that letter, he needed to explore. He had to learn exactly what this "Obsidian Authority" was, and see how the local cultists, who seemed just as blindsided by last night's events as he was, were acclimating to their new reality.
Alexander moved toward the door with the practiced quiet of a boy who used to sneak across creaky floorboards to read epistles from the Book of the Spire when he should have been sleeping. But just as his grandfather had always heard him, Rune did, too.
By the time Alexander reached the threshold, the soft patter of paws trailed right behind him. He felt a wet snout brush inquisitively against his leg.
“I'm just going to walk the halls,” Alexander whispered, making a gentle shooing motion before taking another step forward.
The wolf cocked its head and followed.
Alexander stopped. “Stay.”
Rune let out a defiant, rumbling chuff that rattled in Alexander’s chest.
“Heel?”
It was more of a suggestion than a command. Rune remained entirely noncompliant. Alexander let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders slumping as he resigned himself to his new tagalong.
“Well, the Spire teaches us to walk in pairs in the face of adversity.”
He stepped out the door and into a hallway buzzing with activity. Initiates were everywhere. Some were scrubbing the floors, while others hauled large wooden crates. They were actively chipping away and painting over the signs and symbols that had previously decorated the stone. It appeared they were remodeling the entire compound.
A man who looked old enough to be Alexander's grandfather was working tirelessly, chiseling a fresco off the wall.
“Good morning,” Alexander said, pasting on his best smile.
The man, perched on a stool that appeared entirely too small for him, looked up. A scowl briefly crossed his wrinkled face, but then he noticed the massive, furry companion at Alexander's hip. The scowl melted into a polite smile.
“Good morning,” he replied.
“I was just wondering what exactly is going on?”
“Master Vex has ordered all instances of Peronin banished from the compound.”
“I see. And is this permitted? It would seem to be some form of blasphemy.”
The man chuckled dryly. “Permitted? I would love to see someone try to tell Master Vex what is permitted here.”
He didn't elaborate further.
“Ah, I see. Well, thank you. I noticed you wince when you bend. I can mend your injury later, if you would like.”
The older man stared at Alexander for a long moment, his eyes calculating whether this was some sort of test or an act of genuine charity. “How much?” he asked, his tone wary.
“I am a priest of the Spire; we do not charge,” Alexander said, slightly offended.
“If you are around later, and still up for it, I'll be in the dining hall.”
Alexander gave a respectful nod before continuing down the corridor, Rune keeping perfect pace at his hip. He navigated a few turns through the stone halls, the complex seemingly growing larger and more labyrinthine with every step.
He arrived at a small clearing, a theoretical and physical fork in the road. He could go left, right, or down a set of carpeted stairs toward what appeared to be a library.
He chose the library. He chose wrong.
As he walked down the stairs, several initiates hurried past him in the opposite direction. Their robes whisked through the air, their strides full of noticeable, anxious conviction.
Alexander opened his mouth to ask a question but paused. They seemed busy and in a rush, and the older man's words about Vex still didn't sit right with him.
I should let them be, he thought.
Just as he turned back around, he stopped abruptly. Before him stood a massive skeletal figure, clutching a broom that looked entirely too small for its bony hands.
Is this what attacked Brundis?
The thought made him immediately reconsider his bright idea to explore. The skeleton had no eyes, but its skull swiveled to stare directly at Alexander. He felt entirely exposed, like being naked in a public place involuntarily. Rune stepped up next to him, looking from the priest to the towering undead. The wolf clearly sensed Alexander's apprehension, and decided to do absolutely nothing about it.
Then, the skeleton shoved a spare broom into Alexander's hands.
Alexander looked from the broom, to the skeleton, then back to the broom. It had to be Julia, he assumed, as this particular undead horror was wearing a dress.
“You want me to take this?”
Clack.
Alexander coughed nervously. “No thank you, I was just on my way to—”
Clack. Clack.
The message was clear.
“Well, I guess I have some time to help.”
Julia gave a firm nod, tilted her skull to the side, and stared down at Rune. She extended her bony, fleshless hand toward the wolf, inviting him to sniff her.
Click. Clack.
Rune sniffed the skeletal knuckles, then let out a soft, approving huff.
They swept the corridor toward the library in silence, pausing only briefly to let frantic initiates squeeze past them.
After a few minutes, a young, skinny woman approached them. She had a mop of blonde hair, pale skin, and a jagged scar across her neck.
“Julia, have you seen the sacrificial dagger? Vex wants the set thrown out. I have the knives, but I can't find the daggers.”
Clack. Clack.
“Damn it. I'll ask Almere next; maybe he took it to the armory. Thanks.”
Clack.
“Ex… excuse me, miss,” Alexander stammered, leaning on his broom. “You can understand her?”
“I can.”
“Yet, she does not speak?”
Julia turned her skull to look at him. She had no facial expressions to speak of, but Alexander still felt a distinct tinge of condemnation.
“Apologies,” he murmured.
“She speaks,” the woman said simply. “You just have to learn her language.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Four years, give or take.”
“May I ask why you joined?”
“Steve saved my life.”
“The male skeleton?”
“Yes. Her husband.”
“They are married?!” Alexander exclaimed, slapping a hand over his mouth to hide the unexpected outburst. “Excuse me,” he mumbled from behind his fingers. “I just wasn't expecting to hear that.”
“My ex tried to sacrifice me,” she explained casually. “Steve, Gresha, and Vex were nearby when it was going down. It was a whole campsite full of crazies.”
Alexander looked at her, then his eyes drifted toward the stone cave walls of this entirely fake cult compound. “Intriguing,” he managed to say.
“Well, Vex declared the god unworthy. He ordered them to stop, and they refused. Now my ex is one of the skeletons who guards the rations.”
“He is undead?”
“He certainly ain't alive,” she laughed.
A deep chill ran up Alexander's spine.
Forced servitude, he thought.
“May I ask—” Alexander started to say, but the words didn't come out smoothly. He looked at the scarred woman, then at Julia, and finally at Rune, who was currently sniffing Julia's dress.
“Do you feel betrayed at all?”
She laughed again. Then, she pulled the collar of her robe down slightly. The jagged scar traced further down her neck and toward her chest before disappearing under the thick garments.
“We could worship you, the dog, or a bag of carrots for all I care. I would be dead right now if it wasn't for them. I follow them wherever they go. If that means this guy with the ring is our new prophet... well, that's just what it means.”
Click.
“Yeah, you're right, he'll get cranky if I take too long,” she said to the skeleton. She turned back. “What's your name, kid?”
“Alexander.”
“Later, once all the chores are done, Vex is having one-on-one meetings. He thinks they improve morale and efficiency. I think he just likes to keep tabs on us. Come by the main hall once everything is finished.”
“Your name, miss?”
“Vex calls me Teshsari. New name, new beginnings type of thing.”
“I see. Thank you. May the Light follow you.”
“Sure thing.”
Rune watched from the floor as Alexander swept up the last of the remaining debris. When he finished, Julia placed a massive, bony hand on his shoulder. To his surprise, he did not flinch. Bizarrely, the giant skeletal hand smelled of fresh flowers.
Clack.
Julia pointed toward the entrance to the library and jerked her skull in a motion that clearly conveyed he should follow.
“Of course,” Alexander said. It dawned on him that he was starting to understand her intentions perfectly. Even stranger, the small, ever-present dread that had settled deep within his chest was beginning to dissolve. He wasn't sure when or why it was happening. He sighed deeply, wiped his brow, and followed Julia into the room, checking over his shoulder to ensure Rune was trailing right behind him.
Inside the small library, more initiates were busy grabbing books and packing them into wooden crates. From what Alexander could see, all the targeted writings pertained to Peronin.
This purge seems to be absolute, he thought.
Julia glided through the group of workers with a grace that defied her massive frame. Toward the back of the room sat a small black desk, covered in rows of handwritten scrolls neatly bundled and tied with twine.
One long, fleshless finger extended outward, pointing at the desk.
Click.
“You want me to read these?”
Julia gave him a thumbs-up.
Alexander could hear Rune's steady breathing near his side. He glanced around at the busy workers before pulling out the chair and taking a seat. The chair was surprisingly soft, made of some plush material that he was almost certain came from something that used to be alive. The frame creaked as he sank deep into the cushion, taking several moments to find a comfortable position.
Rune rested his massive head on Alexander's lap. Alexander absentmindedly rubbed the space between the wolf's ears, watching as Julia turned away to assist the workers. Then, he looked at the rows of scrolls. He selected one at random, unrolled it, and began to read.
Protocol Scatter: Revised intelligence and surviving members updated.
Alexander's brow furrowed. There is more to this than it seems.