Hope

“All four of you, if you would,” Calm arrived three days after they had made the deal. He requested all of them gather, quickly setting up in privacy. “As promised, an excuse has been manufactured.”

“What do we need to do?” Elizabeth nodded.

“You have already done most of it. Your… mental disquiet following a brush with death has been established in most minds,” Calm smiled. “Officially you have been granted the office of a Requisitor, assigned up North. Unofficially, the Duchess has been seen and overheard repeatedly trying to petition the Duke on your behalf, thus making it seem like he was deferring to Avys’ infamous whims.”

“In reality, all that is a play,” Elizabeth concluded.

“Obviously,” Calm nodded. “But the unofficial story will spread in whispers. Focus will be put on your cowardice and desire to flee.”

“That ain’t good, is it?” Waylan asked.

“It’s actually quite convenient,” Elizabeth smiled slightly. “Who would target a disgraced coward?”

“Someone with a club and empty purse,” Waylan guessed.

“Clubs are notoriously suboptimal during a ceremonial feast,” Elizabeth countered.

“Yes, for those there are knives,” Waylan nodded enthusiastically.

“No solution is flawless,” Irwyn mediated. “But there are more benefits to bad reputation than might be intuitive - and the obstacles less problematic if you are not trying to reach what they are blocking.”

“Well, I ain’t gonna bicker over much ‘bout it. Not my name on the line,” Waylan surrendered with a shrug. Irwyn didn't blame his friend, his knee jerk response towards Elizabeth kneecapping her reputation was not good either - even if the reasons made perfect sense. “What ‘bout the rest of us.”

“Irwyn and Alice are officially Elizabeth’s retainers now,” Calm glanced at Alice who nodded in acknowledgment. Irwyn did not know when exactly it was made official but that much had been agreed to for a while. “That means they go wherever she does with no questions asked. For you, Waylan, it is easiest to pretend you are a mortal servant. We expect no scrutiny on that point.”

“Papers?” Waylan half asked, half requested.

“Here,” and Calm quickly produced a small stack. At least 5 pages. “You are already familiar with the thin bloods so it seemed an obvious cover. Clan Matau, 17th generation.”

“Thin bloods?” Alice asked and Irwyn also frowned in confusion.

“Has the term not come up?” Calm looked at their expressions. “Very well. Where do you think all the servants you see swarming around come from?”

“A job market, presumably,” Alice chimed in. “In Steelmire we would hire them on long-term contracts. From already trained professionals to village girls that needed to be taught how to even mop first.”

“That would be all too simple for the Lord and Ladies in Black,” Elizabeth rolled her eyes at said nobility. “No, everything must have a painstaking tradition that is followed beyond the boundaries of reason.”

“So, they have clans of followers,” Waylan added to the conversation, apparently already familiar. His tone did not relay support for the system. “Not just families: Actual fucking villages where everyone is ‘part of the clan’, very proud of it, and taught how to serve ‘their betters’ from bein’ a kid.”

“Bloodlines, put simply, matter a great deal to our nobility,” Calm nodded. “Of course, it would be an insult to equal non-mages to the actual descendants of the Duke of Wrath, thus a new term has been accepted at some point: Thinbloods.”

“Nobility among servants, tens of thousands of them” Elizabeth added. “Some of those families are downright ancient.”

“That seems hardly efficient,” Irwyn observed. “If there are as many as you make it sound, isn’t there a surplus? There can only be so much nobility in City Black to cater to.”

“You underestimate what lengths our nobility would go to adhere to tradition,” Calm chuckled. “But in this case, there is a very distinct benefit of the ‘surplus’ as you put it: It is a major export.”

“Every noble worth anything or pretending to be will want a Thinblood from City Black,” Alice grasped. “The older their clan, the more prestigious it is to have them. Like exotic jewelry. And exotic is expensive.”

“Quite so,” Calm nodded. “Positions overseeing this distribution are highly sought after. Under current rule direct bribery is rare but there were and will be times when such nobility can extract many benefits.”

“Thinly hidden people trade,” Waylan scoffed.

“If it is any comfort, the Duchess would prefer it abolished,” Calm said.

“Only because it is inconvenient for her,” Elizabeth denied any credit. “As a Duchess she has no choice but to hire her staff from some of the oldest - and most politically involved - clans. Much more limited pool than if she could choose or train her own freely.”

“Waylan will pretend to be somewhere in the middle,” Calm steered the conversation back to safer waters. “Not so old that anyone would easily notice a new name on the ledgers, nor so young it would raise eyebrows with an heiress of significant standing.”

“So, when are we allowed to leave,” Elizabeth asked.

“Things are not quite in place yet,” Calm admitted. “In a week, most likely.”

“Through Abonisle, then up North.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Though for that matter I have some advice to offer about the North.”

“Ruining the mystery already?” Alice chuckled.

“No worry, I intend to be sufficiently vague,” Calm smiled. “I could not relay everything even if I wanted to.”

“Then what is it you mean to tell?” Irwyn asked quite formally, earning an eyeroll from Waylan.

“I have three things to say,” he nodded. “Sufficiently storylike, no? First, you will quickly realize that magic is far, far thinner on the other side of the mountains. Magic will be harder, your recovery slower. You may even suffer headaches and nausea from the shift. Do not be surprised, that is no anomaly - it will remain that way almost everywhere you go, though your bodies will adapt in time.”

“How much thinner?” Elizabeth questioned. “I have not heard of less dense ambiance making magic harder. In Ebon Respite mana was almost suspiciously unpresent, yet I never noted anything of the sort.”

It was Alice who answered her. “Because even Ebon Respite would be like a holy land compared to the North. I have heard stories of men thinking the first checkpoint was a blessed holy grove of magic.”

“Which goes into my second point,” Calm continued. “You will find that the people of the North are - as impolite as it may sound - lesser in many ways. Unlike the Federation, magic is scarce there. Obvious, simplest things will be considered unbelievable. Nations may be less powerful than some singular mages here. Keep that in mind when you inevitably run into… cultural misunderstandings.”

“Will try to be the crown to earth person,” Waylan offered. Irwyn pointedly ignored him. Even Alice and Elizabeth seemed to barely glance at him over the atrocity against speech anymore.

“So, mages will be overall much less powerful,” Irwyn concluded.

“Mages will be overall rare,” Calm clarified. “Instead you will run into plenty of wizards, hedge witches, warlocks, sorcerers, invokers, and outright charlatans.”

“What is the difference then?” Irwyn frowned.

“Who knows,” Calm shrugged. “Does every animal of the same name look the same? I have also not been there for 40 years, my memory is far from perfect. They do not have the Beacons like we do – magical and other traditions are far less connected between individual powers. One term can mean different things in two nations.”

“We can un-knot mysteries of magic when we see them, I am sure,” Elizabeth nodded. “What is the third.”

“Be careful about gods,” Calm said. “Here we don’t take the ‘New Gods’ and their pantheon all too seriously. In fact, the Duchy of Black doesn’t even have any…”

“And why is that?” Irwyn asked curiously.

“Believe it or not, I have no clue,” Calm did not seem to mind the interruption.

“I do not believe it, true,” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

“This one predates your mother,” he shot her a knowing look. “By… at least 8 decades? That was when someone first noticed and recorded the strange absence of even the most minor divinity in our Duchy. Well over a full century and the mystery persists still.”

“And how dangerous are these gods,” Alice asked, re-railing the earlier conversation.

“It is not the gods themselves you need to worry about, hopefully,” Calm shook his head. “It would have to be quite the conundrum if they personally descended to fight you. Rather you need to keep in mind their religions. I am saying this because there are massive organizations with the sole and explicit purpose of slitting the throat of anyone who talks badly about their patron.”

“And fighting massive organizations is bad,” Waylan concluded.

“Incredibly annoying at best. All of you still need to sleep,” Calm nodded. “Then, I have a bit of an optional warning, I suppose.”

“Breaking the rule of three, touche,” Alice chided.

“It is hardly certain it will apply,” Calm explained. “Only if you decided to visit Avys’ former home.”

“And that is?” Elizabeth immediately asked.

“A fun fact about Venen: Killing someone with ingested poison is not considered murder among their upper crust.”

“What would they call it then?” Alice frowned.

“Public service,” Calm smiled. “For ridding the world of an idiot who doesn’t know to put an antidote into even well water they drew themselves. Would you like a few doses?”

Calm had not left immediately after that: He had given them a map of many nations, major cities, and important geological landmarks - though Elizabeth decided they should try without them at first. The old mage also promised to gradually deliver them an excessive quantity of supplies over the following days - done in relative secrecy because… they did not want to appear too prepared? Competent, maybe? Irwyn honestly was not sure why.

Either way, carrying months' worth of nutrition and other supplies was easy enough with Irwyn, Alice, and Elizabeth all having a high-quality spacial bag. Learning of that, Waylan also wanted one. Irwyn had briefly entertained requesting a lesser piece that would decay with Finity… but decided he would probably have to help gather and clean the de-compressed contents in the aftermath. Instead, Waylan would receive a smaller pouch made expressly for stealth specialists – mostly meaning it was not leaking even the slightest amount of mana.

It was seven days later almost exactly that they were given the go-ahead. The four did not travel through the public hub of teleportation, but instead a more private platform had been arranged. The Beacon covered most of City Black after all - the unified center Irwyn had usually used in the past was more for convenience and easy regulation than real need.

They also arrived in semi-secrecy via a private room on the other side, the Time mage accommodating that simply nodding and teleporting away without a word afterwards. Irwyn was rather nervous about their arrival in Abonisle, given the city’s recent-ish troubles but things seemed normal when they left the empty building. Almost suspiciously normal. The streets seemed no less populated than he had remembered.

“Why is there a ceiling?” Waylan questioned, pointing up to the level’s roof, several stories above and stretching towards the horizon.

“Abonisle is built in levels,” Elizabeth paused. “Has this not been… brought up?”

“I got that it was big, and has layers,” Waylan shrugged. “This looks bigger than that.”

“It is quite massive,” Irwyn agreed. “And surprisingly undamaged.”

“The Undead did not prioritize damaging infrastructure during their incursion,” Elizabeth explained. “Much of the city is still considered potentially infested by stubborn remnants, but parts have already been cleared, then quickly repaired. We might see a boundary somewhere along the way.”

“Where are we even headed?” Alice asked.

“North,” Elizabeth said, pointing behind them. Squinting, Irwyn realized he could maybe see a hint of the three Spires far, far in the distance – the exact other way than Elizabeth was directing. “That way is obviously South. We want to leave by the Northern bridge. Since we are on the artery road already we will get somewhere close enough eventually.”

“That is a long way to walk,” Irwyn pointed out.

“Which is what carriages are for,” Elizabeth said.

And hire one they did - a fancy creation powered by magic rather than horsepower with comfortable seats. It did not even take long to find one – unsurprisingly, a massive City like Abonisle had demand for them, even after a disaster. Perhaps especially - the people most prone to dying to undead were those without magic and the associated wealth. Time was passed by explaining to Waylan and Alice more details about the city and the incursion itself. They had both heard the story before but some details would always be left unsaid. Eventually, a commotion stopped the carriage and forced them to exit.

“Lords and Ladies,” their driver, an ordinary man, had first knocked on their door, waiting for them to open it. Then he apologetically spoke. “There seems to be some issue with the road ahead. Traffic is completely blocked.”

“What is it?” Elizabeth frowned slightly.

“I wouldn’t know as I cannot get any further,” the man explained, sweating a bit. “We are down at the ground level, the exit to the outer city should be just a few minutes ahead of us. Alas, the road is blocked by my fellow drivers.”

“Fine, we can walk to the front and see,” Elizabeth sighed. Almost offhandedly she tossed a small pouch of coin at the driver who quickly thanked her and then turned around to leave before he could get stuck as well.

“How much did you pay him?” Alice wondered.

“Who knows,” she shrugged. “I have hundreds of pre-packed pouches to pay for small services.”

“That is incredible,” Waylan gaped at her. “Say, can I interest you in a sure investment?”

“Say no more, here, an ocean of coins,” she smiled, gesturing as if tossing them.

“There seems to be a blockade of some kind ahead,” Alice frowned while the two bickered. “I think I feel Time locked down from here.”

“We can have a look,” Elizabeth nodded. So, they walked. There were good 20 rows of wagons - and about 8 of horses - ahead of them, though there was enough space on the side of the road to allow pedestrian passage. They had to split into a line themselves and avoid the occasional horse-mouth as they walked on the side but that was bearable. By the front they found not a roadblock but rather an outright military blockade - a barricade of solid stone with a single entrance had been raised a good distance ahead of the frontmost carriage, several imbuement mages in uniforms milling about behind and in front of it just from what Iwyn could feel.

Their group did not need to actually approach as one of the frontmost carriage drivers was quite willing to explain: “Something ‘dangerous’ in the severs apparently,” the woman grunted. “I will be damned if it's not more undead. They said they will open it up soon but it’s been two hours.”

“Is there any way around?” Alice asked.

“None, bloody chokepoint in the safe areas,” she shook her head, visibly irritated. “The closest to a way ‘around’ is leaving the city through East or West, then tracing the lake. Not really feasible.”

“I suppose we will have to wait,” Irwyn glanced at Elizabeth. “We don’t want to cause a scene.”

“You are right,” she sighed. They were trying to keep their departure somewhat on the hush side of things. Elizabeth throwing her weight around to maybe get through the blockade was bound to be loud. “I suppose… we can go snack on something?”

So they did. It was still far from lunch, though that did not mean it was not the right time to nibble on something smaller. They doubled back to the nearest elevator, going all the way up to the top level. Since they were almost at the very edge of the inner city, that meant that there was plenty of higher elevation in the direction of the center as well as the Spires themselves towering. It was still quite a sight, Irwyn had to admit and he had seen it before. Waylan very blatantly gaped, staring at the lower city far, far beneath. And it was ravaged. For every sign of damage absent in the inner city, there were three in the outer. The buildings there had by no means been small - merely in comparison to the high city levels. From what Irwyn could see, about half of them had been leveled completely.

“I thought they didn’t go after infrastructure?” Alice commented, staring at the same scene.

“Not at first, no,” Elizabeth merely shrugged. “When their defeat became inevitable, the undead either burrowed or went berserk. In the first place, most of the outer parts had been overrun already… some of the damage might be from long-range bombardment too. It will take years yet for full recovery, given the lost population and weak but numerous undead ambushers hidden too well to root out at scale while the War is still ongoing.”

“All’s shit,” Waylan summarized.

“I think I see a sweets shop that way,” Alice changed the topic, pointing. “I hope you are willing to sponsor a small sugar rush for your retinue, my lady,” she gave an exaggerated bow.

“Two, if need be,” Elizabeth smiled, then both began walking the way Alice had pointed. Irwyn almost followed, before he noticed something awry.

“You all right?” he asked Waylan. His friend was still staring down.

“How many people do you think died here?” Waylan asked.

“Haven’t thought about it, honestly,” Irwyn admitted, it was better not to. “Many. Uncountably many.”

“Yet all you hear is that there was an attack on Abonisle,” Waylan nodded. “No one says how bad. Not even how stupidly big the city is. Was.”

“Presumably, telling the truth could cause severe panic,” Irwyn pointed out. “And that would be bad during a Lich war.”

“All’s shit,” Waylan sighed again.

“You two coming?” Alice called back to them, the two girls had turned and were waiting for them.

“Ye!” Waylan called back a bit too loudly, then hurried along. Irwyn only hesitated a moment longer before also following. Perhaps sweets would help his friend reach a different mood. It was not that far away, although still decently so - it spoke highly that Alice had seen and recognized the store... She had probably been practicing recently to see better and further. When they were almost at the front door Alice frowned.

“Weird,” she said.

“What?” Irwyn asked, everyone pausing to look at her.

“Why are there suddenly so many crows all the way up here?”