Hello! I know it’s been a while, so sorry about that. Sometimes inspiration just doesn’t come, or I get busy with other projects. I feel bad I’ve left you with nothing for so long though, so I’ve decided to share one of the fruits of those other projects with you today. I don’t often write prose fiction these days, but I had cause to a little while ago and that resulted in this short story. Despite the deeply personal nature of some of my criticism, I’m somehow more reticent to share my fiction, but I figured why not this time. So please enjoy the following story and try not to judge me too harshly.
The rain came down in waves over the city of Ilhada. Though the storm was too mild to cause any serious concern, it was still hard enough to send most people scurrying off the cobblestone streets for warmer, drier shelter. Fortunately for those too stubborn or desperate to abandon their business, the streetflames that kept the city lit were well-warded against all manner of weather, providing their guidance and warmth despite the downpour around them.
At least, that was the case up in the heights of the city, close to the Great Spire of Ilhada. Down in the Foothills, even the most dedicated initiate to the Splendid Order never came down to maintain or replace the spells powering the streetflames more than once a month. Within days of their visits, each one would be stolen by those with the money or magical talent to acquire a minor spell ward. The magical flames were then squirreled away, either to heat their thieves' homes or sold to those who couldn't pull off the theft themselves. So like most nights, the Foothills were lit only by what starlight broke through the rain clouds while Alizia and Valentin skulked along its streets.
Alizia pulled her cloak closer around her body and shivered, half from the cold and half from fear. She had taken every precaution she could. Her heavy cloak was fully wrapped around her body, concealing her willowy frame and long limbs. She had drawn the hood so far forward it nearly obscured her vision, and draped her long blonde hair over her ears so no one would notice their pointed shape. But all it would take was one person getting a little too close and getting a good look at her face. Her eyes, large pools of black set with striking purple irises in the center, would immediately out her as an elf. Even in the Foothills, an elf caught out at night without the proper permits would face dire consequences.
“This is ridiculous,” Valentin said. He stepped back from the shoddy brick wall he had been examining and sighed. Unlike Alizia, his muscled arms and callused hands singled him out as a laborer and native of the Foothills, so he was much more relaxed than his friend, rain and frustration notwithstanding. But he'd also lacked the foresight to bring a cloak on this excursion, forcing him to wipe at his forehead in a futile effort to keep his coal black hair from plastering all over his face.
“We're never going to find the right spot in all this darkness,” he said.
“Then let's get out of here,” Alizia whispered back, too terrified to speak any louder. “I don't know how I let you talk me into this in the first place.”
“Hang on,” he said. “Lemme try something.” Valentin closed his eyes and began to concentrate. His forehead creased with the effort, and he started tracing vague symbols in the air with his hands. Before Alizia could figure out what he was doing, a small flame flickered to life in his hand. He turned to her with a huge grin on his face, beaming with pride.
“There,” he said, “it'll be much easier to see now.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Alizia hissed. She clamped down on his hand as fast as she could, breaking his concentration and causing the small flame to die out.
“Hey!” he said. “I had to practice a long time to be able to do that!”
“You're not a member of the Splendid Order, you idiot!” she said. “If you get caught practicing magic we'll both be arrested on the spot, and you just lit up a beacon in the middle of a rainstorm!”
“Look, it's fine,” he said, gently prying her hand off his wrist. “No one in the Foothills would rat us out, and Splendid Order mages never come down here. We're not gonna get caught.”
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “If someone decides the reward for informing on us is worth some dirty looks, you'll just spend some time in the dungeons. An elf found at a site of illegal magic? At best my family and I would be exiled. At worst, I'd never see the moon again.”
Valentin frowned. “You're right. I'm sorry.”
Alizia relaxed. Valentin could be a little thoughtless sometimes, but he always meant well. It was pretty rare for a human to willingly associate with an elf, let alone befriend them, so she could forgive him for it. Even if he could be pretty frustrating. “Just please be more careful, alright?”
“Okay,” he said. “I have no idea how we're going to find the meeting now though...”
“Pardon me,” came a voice from nearby. Alizia started and turned to look. There was a well-dressed man standing only a few feet away. His fine cloak was embossed with golden runes around the fringe, and it had clearly been enchanted to repel the rain. It was a marked contrast with her own roughspun wool cloak, already starting to soak through. This was obviously a man of means, which made his presence in the Foothills highly unusual.
It also meant he wasn't likely to be too sympathetic to an elf and an unlicensed street mage. She quickly averted her eyes, studiously looking down at her feet. She only hoped she'd been fast enough that he hadn't gotten a good look at her face.
“Can I help you?” Valentin said, shifting slightly to put himself between Alizia and the stranger.
“Ah, well,” the man said, “I couldn't help but notice that the two of you seemed lost. Are you, perchance, friends of Kalcidon?”
Alizia tried to remain still, gripping her hands tightly underneath her cloak. A man like this, wandering the Foothills, asking about Kalcidon? It could only mean one thing: they'd just run into a Scaleless Serpent. Her heart sank in her chest, and she only barely managed to keep her breath even. Being caught by a desperate neighbor was one thing, but one of the Splendid Order's own secret enforcers? No one would see either of them again for the rest of their short lives.
But Valentin didn't share her suspicions, it seemed. His face broke into a huge grin and he clapped the stranger on his shoulder. “Yes, comrade. We were just looking for the entrance.”
Alizia looked up again in alarm, all caution forgotten. “Valentin!” she said in shock, eyes flitting between her friend and the man she was sure was about to arrest them. Instead he raised his hands, gesturing for her to calm down.
“Not to worry, my dear. I understand your concern, but I'm a friend.” He walked over to a section of the wall Valentin had been studying, tucked into a nearby alley. The bricks in this building were all laid somewhat haphazardly, and he placed his hand on a particularly crooked one that jutted out from the wall. His finger lightly traced the shape of a wing along its surface. It was a symbol even Alizia, having never been to one of these meetings, knew well: the mark of Kalcidon's underground resistance, the Hawk Defiant.
A moment later, that same symbol glowed briefly on the brick as it slowly slid back into the wall. The man turned to Alizia and Valentin with a smile on his face, but nothing else seemed to happen.
“...what do we do next?” Alizia said, her voice thick with suspicion.
“Ah! Of course, you must be new,” the stranger said. “Forgive my rudeness. The entrance has opened, but Kalcidon places an illusion over it so it stays hidden even for these brief moments. Allow me to demonstrate.”
With that, the stranger strode confidently into the wall. The brick did nothing to impede him, and he disappeared into its surface. Alizia reached forward tentatively, and her hand also vanished when it came to rest on the brick. She turned to look at Valentin and caught him smirking at her.
“What?” she asked, irritated.
“You thought he was a snake, didn't you?”
“Of course I did, Valentin. He was incredibly suspicious! I'm still not convinced he's not. Watching one of these meetings would be way more valuable than catching two nobodies.”
Valentin only shook his head. “You need to learn to be a little more trusting, Ali.”
“And you need to learn to be less! If we're going to be sneaking around and going to Hawk Defiant meetings, our lives are going to get a lot more dangerous.”
“Look, we shouldn't argue about this out here,” he said. “Let's get outta the rain, at least.” Alizia sighed, but she nodded and took a step forward. She felt a strange tingle all over her body when she passed through the illusion, but otherwise there was nothing to mark the passage from outside into the hideout. She was just suddenly standing at the top of a worn wooden staircase, spellflames lining the walls leading down.
The heat of the fire was a welcome reprieve from the cold rain outside. She closed her eyes and let the pleasant warmth wash over her, drying out her wet clothes. It was the first moment of peace she'd gotten since Valentin showed up at her doorstep that night.
The calm was broken a few seconds later. She felt a brief rush of air behind her, and then Valentin squeezed in beside her. He looked a little ridiculous, carefully stepping around her in his big work boots, water dripping down his entire body. The sight made her smile, before she remembered where they were and what they were doing.
“Let's get going,” Valentin said with obvious excitement. She didn't share her friend's enthusiasm, but Alizia nodded anyway. The two started down the steps, Alizia carefully picking her way while Valentin trudged down behind her. It didn't take long (maybe about a story, she thought. A basement, perhaps?) before the narrow staircase gave way to an open room.
This room must indeed have once been the basement to a tavern or a similar establishment. The dirt-packed floor was dotted with barrels and crates that had been turned into makeshift seats, and a row of massive kegs lined one of the walls. Across from the stairs they had just come down, a bunch of crates had been crudely lashed together to form a wobbly-looking stage, complete with a barrel for a podium, though it currently stood empty.
What most surprised Alizia, though, were the people. Not just the number, though there was a truly impressive amount of them packed into the place. The crowd was so thick that Valentin had to shoulder his way through (with Alizia squeezing past behind him) for them to get more than a couple steps from the stairs. No, what really surprised her was the variety of people who had come.
Though she couldn't bring herself to break Valentin's heart by saying it out loud, she had suspected they would find only the pampered children of merchants and other well-to-do citizens of Ilhada's upper reaches. The kind of people not quite well-connected enough to join the Splendid Order but still entitled enough to believe they deserved to learn magic. Maybe a smattering of idealistic denizens of the Foothills like Valentin, but that was it. Alizia couldn't imagine many others willing to risk so much for the mere possibility of change.
And yet arrayed before her was a kaleidoscope of people far beyond her wildest imagination. There were many humans in simple and grubby clothes, bearing the aches and scars of a life spent in the Foothills. There were other elves like her, stooped low in hooded cloaks, keeping to the back. A minotaur eyed the crowd warily, their gleaming horns topped with the copper caps that showed their devotion to Bovillus. A pack of goblins was worming their way through people's legs, cackling madly as they went. There were even some quetzals languishing on top of the kegs, their brownish scales and long lizard-like tails curled around their bodies almost making them invisible if not for the multi-colored paint they decorated themselves with.
And there were, of course, the well-to-do here like she expected, but instead of the main body they were just one more facet of a group encompassing nearly everyone you might expect to meet in Ilhada. It was, she had to admit, an impressive crowd.
Alizia took this all in until her reverie was broken by Valentin whispering a soft “wow.” She quickly made sure her expression was neutral before looking at him. He had a massive grin on his face, looking around the room in undisguised awe.
“This is incredible,” he said.
“It's a little better than I was expecting,” she allowed.
Valentin opened his mouth to respond, but he was cut off by a booming noise from the front of the room. The whole crowd suddenly went silent, turning to look at the man now standing on the crate-stage. One of his arms was raised, his index finger and thumb extended as though he had just snapped. His long brown beard was graying, and there were wrinkles around his eyes, but smooth hands and straight back betrayed his relative youth. He was draped in what had once been official robes of the Splendid Order, the crimson thread still visible across much of their surface. But they had burned and torn in places, and where they had the man had sewed them back together with thread of all different colors, so that his robes were a shining rainbow of fabric.
Alizia though it looked kind of ridiculous in person, actually. But in this case, the message mattered more than the aesthetic. Because this was Kalcidon the Hawk: traitor to the Splendid Order, the only man to evade the Scaleless Serpents for more than a few weeks, and now the leader of a brewing rebellion. He was the man every person here had come to see, and he had the room's undivided attention.
Kalcidon's hand dropped to his side, his eyes scanning the crowd. He slowly approached the barrel-podium. Every footfall seemed to boom like a cannon in the total silence of his presence. Even when he reached the podium, he remained silent, merely stroking his beard thoughtfully. The tension in the crowd was rising to an almost unbearable point. People began to shoot glances at each other or fidget uncomfortably, but still no one made a sound. It was almost hypnotic, the way he held their rapt attention. Then, seemingly just a single moment before someone in the crowd would start murmuring, Kalcidon spoke.
“I apologize for interrupting you, my friends,” he said. Alizia was surprised by his voice. She had expected a deep, powerful bass, the sort of voice you could imagine bellowing out incantations. Instead his words were soft, almost high-pitched. But they still reached every person in the room, his clear and confident tone doing more than enough to make sure he was heard.
“I'm afraid our hour is short. Whenever I make an appearance like this, the snakes are rarely far behind.” A wave of apprehension washed over the crowd at the mention of the danger this meeting represented. Alizia herself could feel the knot in her stomach tighten until she felt a pressure on her shoulder. Valentin, sensing her discomfort, gave her a smile and a reassuring squeeze before returning his attention to Kalcidon.
“But of course, that's why you're all here tonight. For the two things that statement represents.” Kalcidon slowly raised a finger until it was level with his head. Alizia idly wondered if he did anything faster than a snail's pace, but she was already getting drawn in by his words despite herself.
“The first is the harsh reality we live in. I have raised no hand to the people of Ilhada. I have despoiled no crop, crumbled no stone, robbed no person. I have ever sought to live a life of peaceful tranquility, with no concern but for the betterment of my fellows.”
He began to pace, carefully and deliberately, across the front of the stage, getting more animated as he spoke. “Yet the fact remains that I am a wanted man. Hunted like a rat, the slithering serpents of the Splendid Order constantly snapping at my tail. For years now I have known peace for only a precious handful of moments. I have treasured each one like a priceless jewel.”
He came to a halt again, eyeing the crowd significantly. “So what was my abominable crime that warranted such treatment? What have I done that has branded me an unspeakable traitor to the wizened masters of Ilhada?
“Only this: that in joining their ranks I came to realize the horrific injustice we had created. That we had jealously hoarded the secrets of our world, refusing their knowledge to all but the wealthiest and most favored. That with the awe-inspiring power of magic, the ability to break the chains fate had placed on all peoples, we instead chose to clap yet heavier chains upon those we thought beneath us. That in shutting our bodies away in our great spire, we had also shut our hearts to the suffering of those around us.”
Kalcidon gestured towards the back of the room, where many of the non-human members of the crowd had gathered. “And that, rather than recognizing how the spark of magic that existed in all beings bound us together, we shunned all those different from us, visiting upon them our harshest scorn.” Alizia could see a few eyebrows raise and murmurs pass between some of the other elves in the room. She had a fairly good idea of what they were saying: nice words, and appreciated, but how much did he mean them?
“Indeed, that is the irony that has come to define my life. That I should be branded a criminal only for opening my eyes to the greatest crimes of all.” Kalcidon shook his head sadly. “You have all felt the sting of these crimes every day of your lives, far more than I could ever hope to understand. That I suffer now is due recompense for the many years I lived in happy ignorance of them. It is a burden I bear gladly if it means our great work can be completed.”
Here he looked up sharply, a look of resolve in his eyes. “For there is a second thing my opening statement illuminates. A beacon of light amongst the gloom, a hope that will guide us all to a better tomorrow if we can only cling to it with all our might! To understand what it is, you need only ask yourself a simple question: why?”
He paused a moment, letting the crowd ponder his words before continuing. “Why would the Splendid Order punish me so harshly merely for speaking out against them? For resigning from their order and bringing my message of the rot that permeates their mighty spire to the people of Ilhada? Why do they think these actions must be met with swift reprisal?”
Some in the crowd started to look at each other quizzically, trying to figure out what Kalcidon was getting at. But they didn't have to wonder long, as Kalcidon answered his own question with a smile: “Because they're afraid, my friends.”
Alizia raised an eyebrow. The Splendid Order, scared? It didn't seem plausible.
“Ah, you don't believe me?” he said, as though he could sense her skepticism. “I admit, I could scarcely believe it myself at first. But it's true! It runs through every action they take to keep the wand pressed firmly against your necks.” He made a gesture in the air, and a shimmering image of the Great Spire of Ilhada appeared behind him. It was a familiar sight to everyone in the room, the skyline-dominating symbol of the Splendid Order's iron grip on the city.
“The order wants you to believe that you are weak and they are strong. That you are powerless and they have the very might of the heavens at their command. That to stand against them would be akin to the wind seeking to topple the mightiest mountain.” He swept his arms through the air, and countless pinpricks of light winked to life around the room. One by one they threw themselves against the image of the spire he had conjured, only to bounce off harmlessly.
“But this is a lie. A trick. A deception!” He started to swirl one of his arms in the air. As he did, the pinpricks slowly gathered together into a churning mass of light. “Magic is power, it is true. A wizard of the order, with all his spells at his command, could stand against dozens. Perhaps hundreds!” Here he smiled again. “But you are thousands. Tens of thousands! Hundreds of thousands!”
Kalcidon clapped his hands together over his head and the mass of light crashed against the image of the spire. It held for but a moment against the onslaught, images of stones tumbling from the structure and winking out of existence. By the time the lights had washed over the spire and faded away into the dark, there was only a smoldering base left of the mighty tower. Even that soon burned away into smoke, leaving nothing behind of Kalcidon's demonstration.
“The truth, the one the Splendid Order has worked so hard to bury, is that they could never hope to marshal the power necessary to crush a truly united front. That together you have a strength beyond their wildest dreams! That the very might of the heavens is but dust and ash compared to millions of fists raised in the air! That the mightiest mountain has merely a fraction of the resolve of hearts that beat for justice!”
He spread his arms then, as if to embrace the crowd. “This is what they are terrified of you understanding. And now that you do, you will make the wisest sage, a man with the most potent of magic at his fingertips, tremble at your passing!”
A great cheer erupted from the crowd then. Valentin was whooping and applauding with wild abandon, completely spellbound by the speech. Alizia could feel something welling up inside her as well, though she was too torn to show it. The truth was that she hadn't even realized how hopeless she had felt until now, when the prospect of real hope was dangled before her. To think that perhaps things could change, for herself and her family, was an almost intoxicating possibility. But it frightened her too. If she gave in to that hope...what would happen when she lost that too? Could she go back to the weary resignation that had always shielded her from despair?
She was saved from dwelling on that for too long by Kalcidon raising his hands again, calling for silence. “Your enthusiasm is commendable! But I have more than mere words to offer you.” The smile faded from his lips, and his expression became serious.
“I have no intention of repeating the same mistakes as those I fight against. I will not be a miser refusing to share the gift that changed his own life. It is a gift that belongs to all of us, our heritage as people of this planet.”
He flung his arms wide and a shower of sparks shot out from each of his fingers, whizzing around the room like rockets. “To any here who is willing to learn, I am willing to teach the sorcerous secrets of the heavens: magic!”
Excited shouting broke out almost before he was even done talking. It had been rumored for months that Kalcidon had begun teaching some members of the Hawk Defiant how to use magic. It was probably the reason half the people here had come. Alizia knew it was a big part of it for Valentin. He had a big heart and an idealistic streak, of course, but learning magic had been his dream for as long as she had known him. She could put her own fears and misgivings aside for a moment to be happy that her friend might finally get his chance.
“Now, sadly I cannot do this all at once,” Kalcidon said, quieting the shouting crowd. “But worry not, for I have worked out a system that should allow-”
Kalcidon stopped in the middle of his own sentence and snapped to attention. His head tilted to one side, as though he were listening carefully. His face became grave and he started to quickly gesture in the air again.
“We've been found.” Alarm shot through the crowd, but he continued to speak clearly and urgently. “I'm opening portals now. They'll close behind you.” True to his word, a series of portals began to open at random throughout the room. Wherever they did, whoever was closest dove through and the portal winked shut behind them. “Everyone, quickly, run befo-”
Kalcidon was drowned out by a loud tearing noise, as though a thousand sheets of paper had just been torn simultaneously. Suddenly there was a new group of people in the room. They wore scaled suits of armor, dyed a dark green that gleamed in the torchlight, and wielded iron rods etched all over with runes. These were the Serpents, the rank-and-file of Ilhada's police.
Unlike the Scaleless Serpents who worked in secret to root out threats, the Serpents were an instrument of blunt force. Few who made it into the echelons of the Splendid Order chose to serve in their ranks, so they were given specially crafted rods that could store prepared spells to make up for their own lack of magical ability. It was the only form of magic that anyone outside the Splendid Order was permitted to use, and they were fond of abusing that power on whoever gave them the slightest cause.
As soon as the Serpents teleported in, the scene devolved into total chaos. Bolts of force shot forth from their spellrods, slamming into members of the crowd and sending them sprawling. Alizia could see the quetzals that had been resting on top of the kegs bolt in all directions, using their sharp talons to clamber across the walls and ceiling in search of exit portals. A Serpent was bearing down on a lone goblin when two more appeared from the crowd and savaged the Serpent's knees with planks of wood. The minotaur bellowed in rage, tossing two Serpents across the room but already starting to stagger as even more showed up to shoot spells into his chest.
In all of this, Valentin was standing stock still. All of this had happened in the span of only a few seconds, and his brain seemed to still be processing it all. But Alizia had no such trouble. She grabbed her friend's wrist and shouted “We have to get out of here! Now!”
Hearing his friend's voice through the din shook him out of his stupor long enough from him to nod dumbly. Alizia began to run, still gripping his wrist tightly, and he followed behind her. She had no idea where they should go; even if the portals weren't winking in and out of existence at random, the sound of splintering wood and cracking bone was far too disorienting to get her bearings. But anything had to be better than standing still, so she picked a direction and ran.
The two picked their way through the brawl, somehow managing to avoid notice. At one point she almost tripped over a man lying prone on the floor, blood slowly seeping from his head where a Serpent's spell had made direct contact. Only a few seconds later, she was covered in a hail of splinters when another spell just barely missed her head and exploded against a support beam next to her. Gritting her teeth, she kept rushing forward.
Then she saw it. An open portal appeared a few feet ahead of them, in a spot of relative calm. An image of Ilhada's streets floated there, the rain still pouring down around a dark and secluded stretch of road. As more and more people either escaped into their own portals or were captured or killed by the Serpents, she knew they couldn't avoid notice for much longer. This could be their only chance. Digging her hand so hard into Valentin's wrist she was afraid she'd draw blood, she gathered up a burst of energy and made a mad dash for it.
But she had barely made it a few steps when Valentin jerked back as if struck. She looked back in horror as a second impact of invisible force collided into his chest and he was sent flying, his wrist torn out of her grasp. She tried to scream his name, but then she felt a force like a brick slam into her stomach and knock the wind out of her lungs. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for breath, vision swimming. She could still see the portal shimmering in front of her. She started to feebly reach for it, hoping that it might be close enough that she could still make it. Then something slammed on her hand.
She howled in pain and tried to draw her hand back, but it was pinned. Slowly she looked up, trying to find the source of her pain. A fine pair of leather shoes, then tailored breeches, a waistcoat and an embroidered cloak. When her eyes reached the top of the figure before her, she saw the face of the man who had let them into the meeting. He gazed down at her dispassionately, as if she were an insect he'd just stepped on.
“Knew...you were...a snake...” she said between breaths.
He smiled coldly. “And I knew you were an elf.” He leaned down and grabbed her face with one hand. She tried to turn away, but he was too strong and she hadn't recovered from his magical blow yet. “Conspiring against the order? Once we're done with you, you'll wish you'd never been born, elf.”
She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but Alizia thought she could see a figure lurching forward behind the Scaleless Serpent now grasping her. Then there was a flash of light, and she could see an injured Valentin, his face a mask of fury she'd never seen on her friend before. He raised up his hand that now held a small magical flame and brought it down on the man's face. Alizia could smell sizzling smoke and heard the man scream. He suddenly let go of her and her face dropped down to the floor. She couldn't see what happened next, but there was a loud thump and then Valentin was at her side.
“Can you walk?” he asked. Blood was trickling down the side of his face and it looked like it hurt him to breathe, but she couldn't imagine she looked much better. She nodded, and he helped her stand up. She leaned against him as they both stumbled forward. Each step felt like an eternity, the sounds of screams filling their ears. But then they were through. The sounds disappeared instantly, replaced with the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the cobblestones. From here, it was as if the entire night had never happened.
Alizia looked up at Valentin, still struggling to fill her lungs with each breath. He looked back at her, and for once he looked just as grim as she did.
They didn't say anything to each other then. With an unspoken understanding, they just limped along the road, their way illuminated only by the moon hanging silent above them.