Interlude 1. Inquiring Minds
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Junior Apprentice Scryer Solarian, Second Grade. One hundred and twenty-two years old this summer, a commoner born to a pair of farmers so unremarkable that they had no epitaph for her to attach to her given name.
She earned her place among the mages of the kingdom. She toiled and studied the motion of the stars, the secrets of the palace, and heeded the commands of her superiors. She proved herself loyal. She would continue to prove herself loyal. She would earn the title of magister by the time she was still at a youthful age of five hundred.
Apprentice Solarian scowled at the report that had arrived at her desk. It was an anomaly. She loved to pick apart anomalies, but as part of her status as one of the junior assistants to the magisters of the royal court, she knew her superiors would not bat an eye at this…
… the brother to Prince Anasterian who was heir apparent to the royal throne, Prince Nallorath, had somehow found supplied himself with a private army. Prince Anasterian was already called King in many circles due to the true king's ailing health, thus forces were at work to limit the other princes of the Sunstrider Dynasty in case a battle for the throne occurred.
The throne itself held little in the means of absolute power, Solarian knew. She sighed as she flipped through the report and rested her eyes after finishing it.
Prince Nallorath believed that one of the High Councilmen of the Convocation of Silvermoon sought to stymie his efforts. Few knew if he simply wished to gain glory or if he had more sinister ambitions, but the royal court and the true king did not wish to take chances. It was the old king who had ordered agents to block Prince Nallorath's attempts at recruitment and procurement—yet someone else had aided the Third Prince in his recruitment, and now someone helped him procure his war supplies.
Solarian, as a young woman just beginning to blossom, loved challenges. She loved for a chance to prove herself… however, this was too important, too big, for her to take independent action. Even though she knew no one would do anything.
The struggles within the royal court aside, the magisters who served the royal family struggled for political power. Seeing the Third Prince succeed in his endeavors would only raise their morale.
It fell upon the newly crowned King Anasterian then, if the royal faction would take any action. And he had more pressing matters.
Unless… unless she did her own investigation.
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In a remote tavern at the edge of the capitol.
"There's little more than rumors," her peer in the royal faction, Junior Apprentice Researcher Lana'thel, Third Grade, tried to dissuade her from her path. Lana'thel was short where she was tall, with a dark oaken shade of hair and heart-shaped features where she had silver hair and a more angular face—they were a contrast in both thought and body. "You'll be chasing shadows."
"It's more than this. Call it a feeling… but whoever thinks they can be so brazen will have another thing coming to them." Solarian had this argument with Lana'thel before, since they both tested into the Commoner's Mage Academy and lived near each other. They were not necessarily close, but Lana'thel had been one of the few who were also assigned to Prince Nallorath's case she was familiar with.
"Then let me list out the possible suspects, Solarian." Lana'thel chuffed smugly. "Each of the Seven within the Convocation have the ability to supply the manpower. Estimates of family forces range between one thousand to two thousand each. There are several independent elder magisters who have personal retinues that number over one hundred. Grand Magister Belo'vir Salonar, without aid of House Salonar, has fealty of at least five hundred former apprentices who have risen to prominence. The Farstriders, despite being so far away and occupied, have a reserve just south of the capitol numbering two thousand. The Grand Mayors of Tranquillien, Fairbreeze, and Suncrown each have their own personal forces within one thousand. And this is not taking into account that Prince Nallorath could have personally recruited from the kingdom's own legions."
Despite the convincing argument, Solarian felt undeterred. She opened her mouth but stopped herself from the first retort that arrived at the tip of her tongue. Antagonizing her only potential ally was not the right step for her. "I admit you have a point, Lana'thel."
"I am rather astute, that is very true," the shorter elf studied her nails and allowed her smirk to grow.
"However," Solarian stressed with some suppressed indignation. She tasted her words for a moment before speaking, "However, I still believe that there is merit in pursuing this avenue of investigation. Perhaps manpower could be sourced, but supplies cannot appear from nowhere. There has to be… records, right?"
"I never knew you were such a sticker for the rules, Solarian! You learn something new everyday." Lana'thel shrugged her shoulders, causing her stylized hair to cascade down her back in waves. She took the arm-length golden pipe of bloodthistle on the table between them and inhaled before letting loose a puff of red smoke. "Alright. I'll take a step back since you're willing to do so too. It's kind of interesting… but let's focus on the first problem instead of trying to solve the entire mystery in one go, shall we?"
It was progress, however small. Solarian took what she could. Her experience serving under the royal faction taught her that friendly allies, even if they were hidden daggers to the back, were invaluable until they were not. "The manpower source then. From what I have seen in the troop marching south to Tranquillien, they are experienced. That can't be disguised commoners."
"Not entirely." Lana'thel chuckled at her look of surprise. "What? I saw it too. Prince Nallorath made such a fuss about how he was going to secure the borders for the good of the kingdom. It was the most excitement I've had all week."
"What do you mean?" Solarian with heated frustration.
"At least half of them were commoners. It's quite clever, if you think about it. He squeezed three hundred inexperienced younger sons and daughters of farmers, shopkeepers, and simple craftsmen between two groups of one hundred and fifty experienced veteran mercenaries." Lana'thel watched her for a moment, before acting in exaggeratedly wide-eyed surprise, "Oh! You didn't get a close look! No wonder you didn't see how the ones in the middle kept looking left and right for what they were supposed to do."
Solarian pointedly ignored that. It was a jab at her failure in observation. It felt like a dagger to the heart, because as an apprentice scryer, observation was the main focus of her entire career. If they could exchange japes, then they had a foundation for a working partnership—that was another step of progress. "I saw enough. Are there any sources for the veterans? Where did these novices come from?"
"Children of farmers who heard tales of glory…" Lana'thel sighed and showed some light lamentation. "They'll face some hardships. They aren't ready for war… Seven Hells, even the kingdom isn't ready for war."
"You take that back." Solarian glared as a spark lit a belly of fire inside her.
Lana'thel threw her hands up—she held more than two decades more experience than Solarian, and she was the better mage. "It's the truth. We've been quarreling with each other for the last three thousand years… it's a miracle that all this has resulted in is the erosion of royal authority."
"The Sunstriders are not a figurehead." Solarian argued. She felt personally attacked by the other elven woman's words. "They still matter. They are the guardians of the Sunwell."
"That's mostly the Reliquary's duties these days," Lana'thel shrugged. "Speaking of which, their order has three hundred members, doesn't it?"
Solarian squinted at the older elf. "What are you saying?"
Lana'thel huffed before going back to her glass of wine. "Anything is a possibility—we have too few clues, so we must take into consideration for all possibilities."
"I can't shake it. Now that you say it… it is possible that the Reliquary, which has traditionally been neutral and stepped out of the political arena, has entered the ring." Seeing Lana'thel's disbelieving look, Solarian tried to express her views. "Think about it, Lana'thel. You were closer than me during Prince Nallorath's parade. You must have seen the equipment they wore… I didn't see too much, but I saw the uniformity. I realize now that this quality falsely convinced me that the Third Prince's forces were equally capable, but…"
"… you're right. There's few forces outside of the Reliquary that would have access to such magic-saturated supplies." Lana'thel grimaced, as if admitting this took something out of her. She took another puff of her bloodthistle pipe and sighed. "But why spend such expenses enchanting iron? A low quality metal that hardly takes magic, when there's sun-touched bronze? Why not spend less money on magic, and more on the base materials?"
A light seemed to go off in Solarian's head. She had a conjecture now. "If these are clues, then think about it. It either means the Third Prince's backer is lacking in unmarked resources, or they have easy access to iron or enchanters."
"Narrows down the suspects." Lana'thel agreed.
Solarian felt a muscle that she hadn't been aware of but had been taut this whole meeting in her shoulders grow loose. She leaned back and too a sip of her wine. "We have a lead then… iron is found south of the Elrendar River; can you…"
Lana'thel acted out the drama of an exaggerated sigh. "If you must ask so desperately, then I suppose I shall do this one task without asking for a favor from you in return, Solarian. I shall check with the Enchanter's Guild. To a fruitful investigation, then?"
"Let's drink," Solarian agreed.
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Dead ends.
Dead ends haunted Solarian.
The mystery of manpower seemed easily solved—she simply needed to travel out of the Elrendar to Tranquillien and ask those who talked with the Third Prince's army to know where they were from. His prideful exclamations of his goals meant his followers would be very open with their origins.
They came from two of the families with seats on in the Convocation—the Toryls and the Drathirs, two of the weaker of the Seven Families. The Toryls and the Drathirs shared a similar problem in that unlike the other five of the Seven, their seats of power were situated south of the Elrendar and thus further away removed from the Sunwell and Silvermoon, the political hearts of the kingdom.
Those two aristocratic houses also shared another problem in being closer to the front lines, meaning they were more at risk from raids of the Amani Empire. On the other hand, their territories were bigger, even if they owned no notable settlements between the two houses, they had more of less.
But the materials? That stumped Solarian such that she was slowly feeling like she was losing her mind in this investigation. There were little more than rumors indeed… Lana'thel was not wrong.
She tracked through scrying spells and through deductive investigation her way to Falconwing Square. She found the bulletin board, where the Third Prince brazenly advertised his conspiracy in the open without fear. How little he really knew of what happened in the courts. How he underestimated the length of the reach of the shadows of high nobility.
Yet so what?
All Solarian found were rumors—stories of an elf too young to be out in the world, or of an elf too beautiful to be anything but real.
She wondered if she had stumbled upon a deeper conspiracy of some long-lost branch of the royal house, after all who else would have otherworldly beauty if not those of the royal blood? She also guessed at that this might have been a demon or a spirit, because of the enticing nature of this supposed elf. It would have made sense too. An astral entity would more likely offer deals for unattainable items, but that left more questions than answers.
Which types of astral creatures were more prone to iron over bronze? From the energies involved, demons seemed unlike a suspect, but the other spirits the courts of the kingdom dealt with were more elusive or far too weak.
Could it have been dragons, then? They were capable and more than able to supply such a large quantity of enchanted goods, but why would they meddle in the affairs of a prince who would inherit nothing? In the end, Solarian hated that she had not been in the backroom where the deal had been struck—Prince Nallorath might have been careless, but he had kept an adept mage nearby during his dealings within Falconwing Square who was capable of blocking past-scrying spells Solarian deployed.
"You look like you haven't slept for a whole week." Lana'thel chortled as they reunited in that same shady little tavern. She chortled. The bitch.
"What did you find?" Solarian hissed through grinding teeth. She nearly jumped up and tore Lana'thel's top off.
"Don't be so passionate. If you allow your emotions to get involved, then you'll never have an unbiased answer." Lana'thel took a swig of her wine rather than answer, the smirk on her face lingering.
Solarian rolled her eyes. "We've had the same lecturer, Lana'thel. Don't patronize me."
"Fine, fine." The smirk stayed. "Some of the masters of the enchanter's guild had some rather, well, backwards and luddite remarks for me. It seems that a new player has recently entered the market."
"Oh?"
"How was your investigation?"
"The veteran manpower are from the reserves of the Toryls and the Drathirs." Solarian answered, but didn't touch her wine. "Tell me about the enchanters."
"No luck on the goods, huh?" Lana'thel poked her again and avoided the topic.
"Lana'thel." She hissed.
"Very well, if you must…" Lana'thel tossed her hair back. It was styled differently today compared to the last time they met. "It seems that the Odd Heir of the Windrunners have begun dipping his toes in supplying enchanted goods. He tried to sell high quality merchandise at low costs, but anyone who bought his goods couldn't afford the maintenance costs. So no matter how low he sold, no one could buy them. However what mattered to the guild was that he didn't join as a master of the Enchanter's Guild, so now the guild artisans wish to censor his wares."
"That has nothing to do with the original investigation." Solarian pointed out.
Lana'thel looked like a lazy cat that just had a canary land in its mouth while it was bathing in the sun. "And that is where you're off. For you see, whichever master artisan the Odd Windrunner recruited into his retinue is producing high quality magical goods in large quantities. It must have been someone who offended the magisters, because after the Odd Windrunner tried to flood the market in Tranquillien, the Grand Mayor placed a restriction on goods flowing from Windrunner Village."
"They offended a noble then. That is… interesting… that they keep going. It might force whichever magister who opposes them to take more drastic measures." Solarian mused. She had seen magisters utilize mind control, soul destruction, and other sorts of identity raping magics on whim simply because someone offended them. Yet… this was the house of Talanas Windrunner, a powerful man few could contend with. "This is the most promising lead we have all month. Should we seek out Windrunner Village, then?"
"I'm going with you this time. There's no way I'm going to miss the fun on this one. You've convinced me, Solarian… I just need to pack my clothes, my make-up, and perhaps some perfumes…?" Lana'thel saw that she was losing her patience so she concluded then and there, "After all, two elves are better than one."
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