7.2 Some Things Need Duelling

General Summary

Day 71

Cheena and Lael swear their oaths in the seclusion of a small wooded area. When Lael arrives, he is wearing his uniform, around 100 years out of date. He was a mid-ranking officer who would have commanded 100-150 soldiers but what strikes me the most is that he holds rank within the Imperial Court. Alder later notes that the specific house Lael served (whose insignia I recognize as something to be wary of) is the Faelie house, known to be powerful and influential in a secretive manner. To be their enemy is to have your life simply...unravel...and they owe no allegiance to anyone but the Empress herself. Their emblem, a series of three-pointed leaves that decreases in size, is for their place as the leaf that falls and vanishes in darkness.   This, of course, does not strike me in the moment. What I see is a relieved man in tears at the deepening shade of the woods, as he and his daughter swear oaths he thought he would never swear again. Cheena’s elvish sounds peculiar...and then I realize it is accented much like Rosalia’s.   As we prepare to leave, Lael gives me two lists: One of the elves he would be seeking, and one of every elf he has met. I would expect nothing less of a Faelie spymaster.   Anna also pulls me aside for a moment, a little awkward with her formalities. There are some things that Lael won’t talk about with her - things about his old life and position. She is worried that he is in danger now that his past is reawakening. Human nobles often have enemies who wish them harm, and she is concerned that this will happen to Lael, and to Cheena now. I do my best to reassure her that he has whatever protection I can offer, and that elven squabbles pale in comparison to the work we must all be doing now. Still, it is his story to tell and I cannot tell it for him.   Once we are several hours away, Alder expresses his deep surprise that we ran into someone like Lael here. An Imperial spymaster is not someone to be trifled with and while he will inevitably be very useful, he may withhold information and gather information on me with the same network he is using in our service.   Bran observes that “a thousand threads of fate swirl about that man”. He is a fatespinner too, but he does things the hard way, with actions instead of magic. Cheena, as well, seemed to have potential in the same way Hella does. They are special because they have roots in two worlds, and as we try to bring all of our worlds closer together, they will be well-suited for it. I’m the oldest person in our group, but somehow this makes me feel even older, sort of like Kadia, in a way.   The next day passes uneventfully as we travel.  

Day 73

We are about a day’s travel away from Brighton when we catch our first glimpse of what the city might turn out to be.   There is a quarry cut into the side of a hill with noxious fires, black smoke, and greenish rock being mined by dwarves in chains. Walking amongst them, and on top of nearby towers, are humans wielding whips.   Bran’s hand goes white-knuckled on his axe as we furiously discuss our inability to do anything to help. Nearly 50 humans are presiding over this mess, and even if we could free the dwarves, a forced march back to the Keep is not something we could sustain without being discovered and endangering everyone else. He speeds up his horse, putting distance between him and the mess that we ride past.   Quietly, I speak with Hella about the lines people draw to separate “people like us” from “not people”. We may not be able to slaughter 50 humans and free these dwarves now, but hopefully when we return it might be as easy as rearranging the circles people have drawn. People aren’t usually evil, by nature. Often their cultural circles have been handed down to them without them even realizing it. Sometimes it only takes a little nudge to redraw their circles. This thought is harder to fix in my mind as we pass a farm that has workers who have been crudely branded with a hot iron.   The stench of poverty and squalor fills the air as we get close to the city walls - 10 metres high and clearly built with dwarvish slave labour. We wait until nightfall before approaching the Western gate, only to see the guards harassing the locals for money. One of them sets fire to a wretched little hut as the inhabitants flee and weep.   Closer to the wall, the guards are leaning against the wall in the way that Alder does - casual but still watching everything. One approaches, Alder gives him the watchwords, and we are directed to an inn where someone will collect us later.   The streets inside the walls are pristine, well-lit, and very straight. Inside the inn the atmosphere is friendly and reasonably wealthy. It is certainly not a poor inn of labourers.   Eventually Alder is approached by a slim elven woman with long golden hair, and she leads us far away from the inn through alleyways, ending up in a warehouse, where she introduces herself as Nienne.   At first, she doesn’t believe that I’m an elven lady. No noble has been able to cross the Barrier and she doesn’t think any ever will. She speaks of the Empress casually, with no honorifics or reverence. When I give her my face name, her demeanor changes entirely and she falls to a knee. This is the first time I have named myself here without having been recognized first.   “None would be so bold as to falsely claim that name,” she says.   After this the conversation is less tense. She is surprised to hear Bran and Hella speaking elvish, of course, and she seems hopeful that the Barrier may have fallen and we might be able to return home. A meeting with Nidrae will be arranged for the following night, and she brings us to her home for the evening.   Her home, as it turns out, is a manor - guarded by several humans and set amongst some almost elvish gardens. She passes by the guards with a haughtiness that seems more human than elvish. Inside we are greeted by Gregor, her human butler. After tidying up in the opulent human guest rooms, we join her in her private gardens with wine.   Nienne tells us that she has been here for 30 years and spent some time as a slave as punishment for being caught stealing. She was eventually bought by a human man - her late husband. It is not clear precisely how that relationship developed, but when he died five years ago, she inherited his land and title.   The duke tried to remove her title and lands but she challenged him to a duel. His champion died, and then his magistrate, and when she told him that the next person she fought would have to be him, he sent his son instead. She cut off his ear, and the duke has since left her alone (though he is not happy about it). So here she is, an elf with a human title.   She is involved with the Thieves’ Guild because Nidrae looks out for our people, but she stays out of the dirty work as much as possible. Between them, they make sure that any elf who turns out at the gate is taken care of.   Back home, she was a teacher at the same academy I attended. She has a small amount of sword magic. She remembers the stories of my...disagreement...with the older students who had harassed my page. She and I are similarly minded: Some people just need duelling.   She also tells us that many elves here believe that the Barrier will keep them safe from the Collective, and that more elves should be trying to cross. This is a belief I am sorry to deny. I wish there were a truly impassable barrier between us and our enemies, but nothing will stop the Collective and their unrelenting aggression.   All that is left to stop them is us and whatever work we are doing here. When I say this, Alder speaks up quite forcefully. He tells Nienne of how I am an unstoppable force and nothing will prevent me from seeing our people safely home.   No matter how many times I see the strength of my family’s belief in me, it will never cease to strike me. It is both a burden and a blessing.