Book 2: Chapter 22: Welcome “Guests”

  It began with the horizon being pierced by a pair of spiraling towers, ringed by something enormous.

  At first, it was just a glint, the sunlight catching something massive far in the distance. Then the city crested into view, Citadel Terraxum, seat of the kingdom, crown of stone and steel.

  Even from miles out, its presence pressed against the air like a held breath. Towering walls loomed over the plains around the outer reaches, wrought not from simple stone but from reinforced alloy-mortar. A mixture of stone and metal, infused with dense black-green runes. Glyph pylons shimmered across its battlements, pulsing every few seconds in synchronized beats. Defensive arrays, Anti-flight barriers, aether disruption fields; all woven into the bones of the city like veins in a living creature.

  The land around it was shaped by war. Military encampments fanned out from the base of the walls, drills echoing in tempo as soldiers marched, trained, sharpened weapons. A massive glyph-patterned bridge crossed a dried riverbed, once a moat, now a kill zone.

  Inside the prison wagons, the mood shifted. There was no more idle chatter from the guards. No friendly glances. Even the jokes dried up once the city came into view. Alex felt it in his bones before it was spoken aloud.

  The cold return of authority.

  One soldier, a younger one who had shared fire-roasted roots with Henry just a week ago, came by the bars and handed him a canteen without a word. As Alex reached for it, the soldier hesitated.

  “We don’t make the rules,” he said, eyes haunted.

  Then he walked away.

  That small encounter was the beginning of the end of the little freedoms that they had managed to scrap together during the regiment’s travels. The travel was over, and the approach of the capital was the signal to the end of any illusions of friendship that might have formed along the way.

  It was a tough pill to swallow for all of them. Alex and his team, as well as the Terraxum soldiers. For many assumed that these were the last few hours they would ever see any of the prisoners again.

  The front entrance to Citadel Terraxum was a grand gatehouse, four stories high, alloy-stone made up every stacked cinder block. It was named ‘The Iron Gate’, and it lived up to its moniker, not just because of the materials of its construction, but also the fact that it had never once been breached. At least, that’s what the soldiers had told him as they neared it.

  The gate door itself was a solid slab of forged blacksteel, enchanted, multi-layered, ten feet thick. Its surface bore glowing green etchings of the Terraxum crest and a rotating ring of suppression glyphs. As the caravan approached, the gates released a noise that sounded as though the metal slabs hissed at them.

  It took a second for him to realize what was happening, and where the noise was coming from. With his ability activated, Alex saw aether-pressure shifted and changed around them as the suppression field locked down, creating the noise. A soft, thrumming hum began in the back of Alex’s teeth as he listened to it.

  From inside the gatehouse, figures walked forward. Each wore armor and carried weapons of different make to the soldiers they had been traveling with. Also, each of these soldiers wore a different cloak. Alex could see that these were a clean, pale white emblazoned with the symbol of lotus flower wreathed in stars around the edges.

  “Royal Arcanuum,” a soldier whispered beside him.

  “No sudden moves,” barked the captain.

  One of the men in the white cloaks stepped forward. He was older than the rest of the soldiers. Middle aged from what Alex could tell. He activated his aether sight and opened his sense to the man. Still Adept Tier, middle stage, but very close to the late stage, he’s just nearly there. Alex moved his attention to the men and women standing behind him. Weaker, but each are as strong as Captain Drenn. This is some sort of elite force. A Royal Guard?

  “Captain Drenn, are these the prisoners suspected out at Vrung’s Quarry?”

  He watched as the two men starred each other down, an obvious history between the two of them coloring the encounter. Eventually Tharek’s body tightened then relaxed slowly, like he was holding and releasing a very heavy breath.

  “Arcanuum Malric Vaunt, they are indeed the prisoners in question.” The man’s voice was a strained neutral tone. No where close to the bored and apathetic neutral that had been given to Alex and the others for so long on the road.

  “Very well then Drenn, hand them over, and we will take them to the Palace. Your regiment has been assigned to the eastern sector, site fourteen, for now.” he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, earning a few angry reactions from the rest of Drenn’s men.

  Tharek Drenn simply raised his hand, quieting his regiment. “Cale, see to it.” He turned on his heel and left without another word,

  Cale Varr, the second hand man to Tharek, moved forward with a keystone in his hand. It appeared this really was the end of the travels with this regiment. And Alex had been looking forward to spending the rest of his prison sentence with them too. What a shame.

  As Cale neared them Eric’s jaw flexed but he said nothing. Allie held onto Cole’s arm just a second longer before letting go. Even Tom-Tom was uncharacteristically silent. The ropes and bracers were removed, and then they thrust forward, forced to march across to the Arcanuum who awaited with their own restraints already held in hand.

  As the chains were reapplied and they were directed back into the wagons, doors sealed once again. As he looked back, Alex caught a final glimpse of the guards that had escorted them these long weeks. Most didn’t look back at them, which was okay.

  Except Korran, the wide shouldered, scarred soldier who had sparred with Alex in the training ring early on. He met Alex’s gaze. Then nodded once, just once.

  And turned away.

  Then they were all ushered through the open gate. And Terraxum swallowed them whole.

  ***

  The city was alive with people, with color, sound, and status.

  Crowds had already gathered near the moving prisoner procession, the masses held at bay by spellwoven barriers and the lined up forms of city guards. Alex could see that some wore the muted robes of commoners, others were marked as merchants with their bright silks and enchanted jewelry, or perhaps nobles. Up on floating platforms, Alex saw mages from foreign lands; tall humanoid figures with curved horns, and slit pupils. The horned figures had silvered skin, some with purple hues, others of darker tones. He also saw other species as well. Some were short, stocky, with large beards. Yet others had varying features that Alex didn’t quite understand. Spectators from beyond.

  They weren’t cheering. Yet, all had gathered to gain a glimpse of the people being taken through the city. They were like a carnival attraction, a parade of notorious curiosity.

  The Worldstriders had arrived.

  Alex felt the weight of every gaze like sandbags hung on his shoulders. Children whispered. Shopkeepers froze in the middle of a sale to look. Scholars scribbled on floating paper scrolls, starring at them intently, no doubt writing whatever strange musing popped into their heads as the gawked.

  Kate lifted her chin, proud, strong, refusing to appear cowed. Lance and Zach walked like soldiers again, straight-backed and silent.

  Garret muttered under his breath, “I liked the forest better.”

  No one laughed.

  They were marched through three checkpoints, each with progressively heavier guard presence, sentries, magical detection spells. As well as Adept Tier cultivators standing atop towers with weapon-staves carved from stone, wrought metal and obsidian.

  At last, they reached the inner wall, the Crown Ring, where only the elite, the true nobles, merchant clans, or martial sects with sway and power could tread. Here, the road was paved with black-glass stone and embedded aether veins. Ahead, the royal palace pierced the skyline.

  Spiraled towers flanked a central building like obsidian lances, these were the towers that hard broken the horizon when they first approached the city. And the object that encircled them? A floating citadel ring hovered above the towers. The stone circle encompassed and surrounded each spire tower, tethered to the earth by chained runes of massive power. Golden light shone from various large aether lanterns that were set into the palace’s walls, each pulsing in rhythm with the heartbeat of the kingdom itself.

  Tom-Tom whispered to no one in particular, “They have so many mushrooms. Just… hoarding them. You can tell.”

  Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. Which earned him a stern glare form on of the Royal Arcanuum. He shifted the laugh into a cough, and pretended to be completely innocent. He didn’t really think it worked, but he was ignored shortly after.

  Finally, the last doors opened, and the team was led inside; toward judgment, toward fate, toward the high seats of Terraxum itself. And as they were marched down cold marbled halls lined with statues of kings and conquerors, Alex didn’t think of war or magic. Instead he thought of home.

  Of the long hallway of his childhood house. And how this one felt just as still. Just as empty.

  The throne hall of Terraxum was built to impress, to dwarf, and most of all to dominate. The room had vaulted ceilings etched in runes arched high above, glowing with subtle gold aetherlight. Floating banners displayed the crests of noble houses, each pulsing faintly with their own family-glyphs. A wide obsidian path split the chamber in two, leading directly to the dais, where the royal family sat upon a throne that was, not just stone, but a massive slab of petrified bone.

  Alex recognized it from his childhood, when he and his dad, along with Adam, would frequent the museum. Being that he was a kid at the time, this favorite exhibit was the dinosaur exhibit. He was fondly familiar with the unique look of fossiles. Whatever World Behemoth this particular bone came from, he couldn’t hazard a guess, but it still radiated faint aether from its marrow regardless.

  It was a rather intimidating looking throne. A seat of stone, where the King sat upon a monster. A perfect place, from which, to judge other monsters it seemed.

  He and his team were escorted forward with the soft clink of chains around their arms. Their footsteps echoing off the dark obsidian floor of the vast chamber. Each squadmate wore a neutral expression, but Alex could feel it, the tension and pressure simmering below the surface. Dozens of nobles sat in raised tiers on either side of the hall, flanked by what he guessed to be; foreign envoys, ranking generals, and court mages.

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  The Terraxum royal family sat above it all.

  The King appeared lean and grim, with a crown forged of polished black stone-alloy. Eyes like cold, uncaring, and darker than the black hole that adorned the sky outside. Beside him, the Queen was an unreadable mask behind layers of veil and enchantment. Several children sat on lesser thrones nearby. One of them, the youngest prince—?though he was obviously still had the appearance of a man at least in his early twenties—met Alex’s gaze and then looked away just as quickly.

  He saw a man in black formal robes step forward next. He moved along the lower edge of the royal dais and unfurreled a scroll in his slender hands, his volume magically amplified as he began to read:

  “Alex Pierce, Kate Locke, Lance Spaulding, Devon Andrews, Allie Hill, Henry Imose, Garret Singer, Eric Thompson, Cole Blackwell, Peter Hall, Zach Weller, Holly Xiao. Known companions to the entity Tom-Tom of the Kobold Kin.”

  There was a pause, as if the man expected there to be some kind of objection. When one didn’t come, he straightened his posture even further and continued.

  “You are hereby accused of the following crimes: unauthorized raiding of regulated kingdom dungeons, assault against Terraxum citizens and cultivators, unlawful acquisition of Aether-rich materials, disturbing the essence balance of the Eastern Province, and spying and collusion with foreign arcane powers.”

  A rustle went through the chamber, whispered conversations rising like smoke above, curling into the vaulted ceilings and down again. It appeared even whispers echoed in the hall.

  Alex stepped forward slightly. “If I may?”

  “Speak,” the King intoned. His words sliced through the air like a falling axe.

  His face contained a deep scowl. And though he couldn’t quite see from his position standing below, Alex could guess the monarch’s was wrinkled with age. Under the black crown, he could see the King’s greying brown hair. The green and golden robes, lavish and well made as they may be, adorned the King’s body and sat on his frame in a way that suggested him more bone and skin than muscle.

  Despite all this, the main focus of Alex’s attention wasn’t his crows feet, or his choice in style. It was the marking he saw thrumming with power under his skin. Glyph tattoos, covering nearly every exposed portion of the man. He could guess there were more, far more, hidden beneath the robes. If the soldiers were any measure to go by, he assumed that the king would have those tattoos over every limb, chest, back, neck and more.

  A full, completed set unlike any of the others he had caught glimpses of before. He wanted to see them. He wanted to strap the king down to a table and investigate him like a long lost treasure map. Because as far as he and those tattoos were concerned, that was exactly what the King was. His treasure map, a guide that will lead him to the most splendid of prizes. Power.

  His eyes flickered to the other royal family members. The queen was still obscured behind her veils, but he could see the others more clearly. Three princes and three princesses, each with their own small throne fanning out behind their parents.

  Do they also have a full set of tattoos? Are theirs newer, more advanced from changes and upgrades discovered over the years?

  How could I get one of them to show me? Seduction?

  He looked over to one of the princesses. She was pretty, long wavy brown hair, eyes that bore into him with confidence and strength. Her posture told him she was ready for a fight, even when seated in the throne hall in front of restrained prisoners. She also appeared in her early twenties, around his age.

  Alex wasn’t bad in the looks department, and he had confidence, charm. Maybe seduction wasn’t outside his capabilities. If it meant he would be able to see her full body, up close, to look over those markings, maybe he could—

  He suddenly felt a very intense gaze coming from his right. He didn’t need to look to know that it was Holly suddenly starring him down intently. Based off the tiny flares of aether she released despite her disruption bracers, it seemed she was… upset.

  Was I starring?

  Alex refocused his eyes, looking to the King once more, and straightened his back. “The accusations are true. We did enter a dungeon. We did fight. We did survive. We did not mean to threaten Terraxum or cause the Crown any inconvenience. But we are not your enemy. We’re—” He hesitated.

  “—Worldstriders.”

  The room exploded. Shouts thundered in every direction, echoing about the hall. The groups flanking either side of the room, reserved before, now spoke with frantic animation. Some shouted, some only stood in shock, eyes wide, brow raised. He saw even the members of the royal family shift uncomfortably in their thrones.

  “Impossible!”

  “They could destroy everything!”

  “Test them, dissect them—study how they use the Heavenly System.”

  “Use them! Chain them and send them to the front!”

  “Kill them now before another nation gets the same idea!”

  A noblewoman in crimson robes stood from her dais and declared loudly, “I propose a different path. A binding alliance. Marriage contracts. One for each of my children. My house offers land, titles, legacy.”

  Garret actually choked on his own breath when he heard that. “Wait what?”

  Alex didn’t answer. He was staring up at the King. Who had not moved. He seemed content to let his court state their opinions on this revelation, as instinctive and un-thought out they may be. The royal’s fingers tapped the arm of his throne. Once, twice, then stopped. He lifted a hand.

  In response to simple gesture, the entire hall shuttered. Around them, walls shook, the ground trembled and then fell silent. It was a single spell, and it only seemed to affect the Throne Hall itself, not the entire palace. But it was strong. Alex assumed that it was capable of collapsing the entire massive room if the king really wanted to. Burying every last one of them in thousands of tons of stone and metal.

  He didn’t dare try reaching out to the king with his aether senses. He didn’t know if the king, or any of the people in the room had the capability to notice something like that and might assume it was some sort of attack. But he didn’t really need to use those senses to know that the man who sat on that throne was certainly late stage Adept Tier.

  The King spoke once more, his words echoed through the silence like the thunder of cracks forming beneath ice. “They are unknowns. Assets. Threats. Perhaps even all three. Until this court reaches consensus regarding their fate, I will not risk neither throne nor kingdom on sentiment.” He stood.

  “Imprison them. Diplomatic restrictions will be in place. Treat them well, but ensure they remain on location.”

  His eyes settled on Alex. “We will see what becomes of you, Strider Alex Pierce.”

  They were marched out in silence. Back through the halls. Past painted frescoes of ancient wars and victories, into lower chambers and descending stairs. Chains dragged behind them all. Tom-Tom muttered something about preferring lava pits to royalty. Alex didn’t speak, none of them did.

  It didn’t take terribly long for them to be taken to a large room on the ground floor of the palace. Elaborate stone doors were opened to reveal what could only be assumed was some kind of ‘sovereign suite’, as he very much doubted they had elections here, let alone presidents.

  Soft, delicate lighting spilled down from a chandelier above. The fixture itself was sculpted from floating shards of crystalline stone, each piece hummed faintly with aether. The crystal shards all hovered in a slow, delicate orbit, like a swaying dance.

  The ceiling arched high overhead, supported by marble columns veined with gold-essence. Between the columns hung silken banners on golden braided ropes. The banner themselves displayed the heraldry and crests of what Alex assumed were Terraxum’s greatest noble and allied houses. The individual banners moved and swayed subtly in the room. He could only guess that they were enchanted to ripple as if caught in a breeze that didn’t truly exist. Thick velvet drapes in the kingdom’s colors of green and gold covered a large inset window-nook that sat isolated to one side of the grand room. Across from the nook, he could see a balcony overlooking the Palace’s inner court gardens. The windows were less like viewing portholes, and more glass-paneled walls that could shift in their opacity with a single thought and a trickle of aether.

  Nearby, an open sitting area was arranged in a horseshoe configuration. The whole area was lined with plush looking pillows, high-backed carved wooden chairs, and luxurious upholstered couches. Each were embroidered with a silky thread that caught the light like soft morning dew. A carved low table of dark-black wood sat in the center. Alex saw that it was polished until it mirrored the room above it, as if the suite were layered over itself.

  The far wall contained a filigreed wooden door, no doubt leading to a hallway and various bedrooms, and more for them to explore. It was impressive, resplendent, the kind of elegance that didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He couldn’t help but feel impressed when he looked around at the place.

  He had spent his fair share of evenings at dinner galas, tuxed up and talked to for hours about the banality of tax structures by men who hadn’t passed a math class since middle-school. But this still impressed Alex, at least a little.

  “Line up,” he said.

  They all did so quickly and efficiently, a single line splayed out in front of him. Alex saw the man raise a brow, apparently surprised by the speed and discipline before him. Of course, he had no way of knowing they were not civilians, but soldiers themselves.

  “You stand on royal ground,” Malric said. “In the heart of Terraxum. You are… unknowns. You’ve been brought here to be judged and sentenced for your crimes,” he continued, “but for now, you remain Worldstriders, meaning you are guests of the Heavenly System itself. Until your fate is decided, you shall remain guests.”

  He lifted one hand, and a pulse of light suddenly shot through the room. The floating chandelier reacted and he saw the orbiting shards had shifted color, turning a slow, pale white. Like snow under moonlight. There was a sudden resounding crack, then their restrains slid free on their own accord, one by one, dropping to the floor with hollow clicks.

  Alex rubbed his wrists and forearms. The glyphs in the suppression bracers had left faint burn-marks. Nothing deep, just a reminder that his physical body was a tad different from everyone else's.

  Malric stepped forward, one pace, no more, and extended a hand toward the center of the suite in front of them. A circle flared to life on the floor, about ten feet wide, composed of interlocking lines of runes and thin radiant threads. They all glowed in a hue that wasn’t quite gold or white or blue.

  “This is an Oath Circle,” he said. “It binds promises made inside it not to law, nor threat, but to Systemal Judgment. You do not swear to me, you do not swear to Terraxum’s king, you swear to the System, and if you break it, it will not be steel or fire that punishes you. Let me inform you further, that this circle is limited by a Tier. It is a connection to the System, and no more than that. But its is the Heavenly System that empowers an Oath. No being, even a Celestial Mage, the Elemental Gods themselves, may break a System Oath.”

  He let the words linger, just long enough.

  “You will swear, ‘To do no harm to Terraxum, its crown, or its kingdom while on its territory. That no attempt will be made to help others do the same, whether through action or inaction.’ This includes treason, sabotage, espionage, or any act the System deems hostile to our sovereignty.”

  Devon shifted nervously. Allie folded her arms, lips tight. Garret glanced sideways at Alex like he was hoping to get an answer.

  Alex didn’t give one. His attention was focused on watching Malric. On watching the runes, the way the System itself hummed in the circle drawn underfoot. Looking at it caused a pressure just behind the eyes, like The System was peering back. The runes and glyphs on the floor were unlike anything that he had encountered before. They were almost alien, or otherworldly. He very much wished he had Obby right now.

  “Should you lie or break your oath,” Malric said, “the System will take your essence, your Mage Core.” He said it plainly, without drama. Just fact. “Should you break it, and it is deemed an offense by any member of the Royal family, the System will recognize the betrayal, and take it from you until nothing remains but ash, disappointment and shame.”

  A pause.

  “With a System Oath, there are no second chances. No appeals.” He gestured toward the circle. “Step forward, one at a time. Speak clearly. The System will do the rest.”

  Garret made a sound that Alex heard as halfway between a cough and a question, but Alex caught his arm and moved first. He stepped steadily into the circle, and the moment he did so, the world dimmed.

  The edges of his sight collapsed, his vision tunneling in front of him. It wasn’t as if he was being distracted, it was focus. Like reality itself had narrowed to the space around him. The runes pulsed beneath his feet. Lines of light crawled up his legs, settling against his skin like a second skeleton.

  Alex inhaled through his nose, slowly.

  “I swear,” he said, “to do no harm to Terraxum, its crown, or its kingdom while on its territory. That no attempt will be made to help others do the same, whether through action or inaction.” There was no echo. No dramatic lightning or ghostly voice. Just a beat of silence.

  Then he felt a faint burn in the back of his skull, just behind the eyes and above his soul aperture, where he assumed that his soulspace lived. There was a single, sharp flash of pressure. His oath was accepted.

  He stepped back.

  A system notification flashed in his vision. He scanned it quickly, finding that it contained no information that Malric hadn’t already told him. All the details lined up. He swiped the message away shortly after.

  One by one, the others followed. Some hesitated. Devon stumbled over the phrasing. Garret added “uh” three times before getting through it. But the System didn’t care about nerves.

  It only cared about intent, and the truth. And when they were all done, Malric Vaunt inclined his head, the barest motion of approval.

  “You are now guests,” he said. “Bound, as all must be, by the same rules we ourselves follow. You are at liberty to use this room and the connecting ones as your own. The rest of the Palace is also open to you, as well as its gardens, with exception to the Throne Hall, the Private quarters of the other quests and Royal family, as well as the treasury, war room, and armory. Otherwise, you are free to do as you wish.”

  He turned without flourish, already walking away. “Welcome to Terraxum.”

  The moment Malric crossed the threshold of the suite and into the hallway beyond, four more Royal Arcanuum entered carrying a large decorated box. The Box sat on a platform which the four of them carried by poles.

  Once they sat the item down in front of him and the others, the four men opened the container, revealing it to contain several other large crates within. He recognized the crates immediately as the ones that Captain Drenn had inventoried and placed all their items in.

  It looked like they were getting their stuff back after all. They seem to put a lot of faith in that System oath then.

  The crates were quickly distributed, along with two additional large boxes, which appeared far fancier than theirs. Without word, the four Arcanuum lifted the decorated box, and left the room.

  At last, stone doors closed behind them, and the weight of a kingdom settled on their shoulders.