Burning torches lined the streets, hanging on the buildings and positioned around the base of Anduěr’s statue. But the streets were empty, all of the monks had retired early leaving the under city in a hollow state. The rain had eventually died down and was no longer blowing in through the balconies. Only the frequent flashes of lightning were seen and somewhere overhead distant thunder roared.

Lieut walked aimlessly out onto one of the balconies where a few drops of rain greeted him. The main storm had moved off to the west and could be seen swirling over the mountains to the south. Directly in his line of sight to the west the clouds had moved on and the stars and moons showed their faces, casting a silver glow over the jagged peaks of the Gaia Mountains. Even in this little light he could see the outlines of the peaks of the western range clearly as they reached into the sky.

The whole mountain range, known as the Engle Mountains, looked as if one of the planet’s tectonic plates had turned in the ground and created the mountains to slant towards the north. And they could be seen clearly with their spearhead peaks glowing white.

For the first time he realised how incredible Essinendeür was, it had so many natural wonders. Like these mountains and the floating peaks of Thienlin, home of the Snow Elves, or the burning sands of Anastarā where it became so hot that residue from the sand would combust in a green flame and turn the desert sands red.

Lieut pushed the inane thoughts from his mind, the natural wonders did not matter, only his mission mattered. Tomorrow Vythe would teleport him, he would get to Port Na’brath ahead of his brother and meet him, and together they would sort out his problem.

A sudden thought stopped him and made him rethink. His brother would not arrive in The Port for a while at least. So what would he do while he waited?

“Can’t sleep either?”

The question pulled Lieut from his contemplations and he turned to see Fairris join him on the balcony. Many bruises still dotted her skin, but there were no more welts and the cuts had healed leaving no scars. From the way she walked he could see that she was still weak, but she was forcing herself to move through the pain.

“I told you before, I don’t sleep,” Lieut said, turning back to the view.

“That’s right. You are lucky,” Fairris remarked as she leaned on the railing next to him.

Many seconds of silence slipped by and Lieut began to feel uncomfortable.

“The monks told me that you carried me here,” Fairris said quietly. “Why?”

Lieut shrugged, he truly did not know why. “Vythe asked me. You would have died if I had not.”

“Thank you,” Fairris said and she smiled at him.

Lieut looked away.

“I suppose Vythe will teleport you to The Port tomorrow,” Fairris remarked.

Lieut nodded.

“Your business must be really pressing?”

Lieut shrugged in reply.

“If it is not that pressing why don’t you travel with us?” Fairris hesitantly suggested. “At least until we are out of the mountains.”

Lieut turned to regard Fairris curiously.

“I thought I was the reason your guard friends died?” Lieut said as he studied Fairris.

Fairris looked away, her expression filled with pain. “When you first left after we escaped the prison I was glad, I was still filled with anger towards you. But now, I see that it was not you who killed them. You are no doubt caught up in the reason why they did die, but you did not kill them. Regional Commander Rathgard was the one who murdered them. And for what? Simply because my squad and I were the ones who went to where you crashed and brought you to the prison. If I ever meet him again he will know my anger, and it will be the last thing he knows.”

Lieut regarded Fairris’s mask of anger as she stared out across the mountains with curiosity. He found that he believed her declaration and he also believed she would go through with it, and he respected that.

“Rathgard was also the one who betrayed me,” Lieut remarked offhandedly.

“The Regional Commander was the one that shot down your craft,” Fairris said understandingly.

“Why do you want me to accompany you through the mountains?” Lieut asked, and he glanced towards Fairris.

Fairris looked away.

“You are a good companion,” Fairris said with a smile. “And not to mention very capable in a fight.”

Sudden images flooded Lieut’s mind, images of him on adventures. But this time he was not with his brothers, instead it was Vythe and Fairris who were beside him.

Lieut stretched the stiffness from his neck in aggravation, but the pain on the side of his head would not go away and it forced him to his knees. He could feel the warmth of his own blood trickle down his check as swirls of Fog rushed before his eyes, and he suddenly realised he was yelling. Images of his fourth brother filled his mind, the light emerald green eyes of his youngest sibling stared at him questioningly. Why had his youngest brother always had to question things? He always asked why he was following the orders. Why they were doing what they were. Why they had to complete the missions given to them. He could still see the questioning look his green-eyed brother gave him as Lieut had driven his sword through his chest.

His eyes watered as the Fog receded back into his head and the pain vanished. Lieut staggered to his feet, using the railing for support and wiped away the blood on his cheek. A sudden wave of dizziness came over him and he stumbled back to the ground.

“Lieut, are you alright?” Fairris asked and Lieut felt her trying to help him to his feet, but he pushed her away.

“Leave,” Lieut demanded angrily and he heard Fairris shuffle back a few steps.

“No,” Fairris replied, standing her ground.

“I said, leave,” Lieut growled at Fairris, making her shrink back a few more steps, but she did not go.

“No,” Fairris insisted. “You are not well, Lieut. Let me help you, it is the least I can do after you saved my life.”

“I do not need any help,” Lieut replied as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Lieut,” Fairris said commandingly, making him turn to look at her. “The Fog is inside your head. There is no way that you should be alive.”

Lieut looked away. “I am fine.”

Fairris’s mouth hung open in shock, but she did not press the issue.

Lieut wiped the rest of the blood away from his face and looked back towards the view. His mind reflected on the moment he had plunged his sword into his brother’s heart. He had followed an order, which was what he was meant to do, not ask questions or wonder why. But then why was he so upset at the memory? Would his brother turn on him when they met in Port Na’brath? He was breaking orders by going to The Port, but how could he complete his mission when he was so confused?

Lieut shook his head and ran a hand through his silver hair. Perhaps some more time to think about his problems would not be a bad thing. Just maybe he could find some answers on the road out of the mountains alongside Vythe and Fairris. Besides, his brother would not be in The Port for some time yet, so he could either sit around in some tavern in Port Na’brath or walk the road of adventure while he waited. The choice was not that hard to make.

The first light of the day was shining on the peaks of the mountain, causing the snow to burn pale orange in the glow of Inüer. Fairris tentatively walked over and stood beside him as together they watched the beautiful sunrise. The snow-capped mountains before them and to the west burst into an orange flame as the dawn came. The white fingers of the clouds reached out of the valley and stretched into the clear blue sky.

“We should awaken Vythe if we are to depart early,” Lieut remarked as he began to head back into the under city of the Monastery.

“Does that mean you are going to join us through the mountains?” Fairris called as she skipped to catch up with him.

Lieut did not reply as he headed straight for the tavern.

To Lieut’s surprise as he pushed through the door of the tavern he spotted Vythe sitting at the same table they were at last night. To Lieut’s observation it seemed as if Vythe had gotten little to no sleep at all. The man’s eyes were bloodshot and he was staring blankly at the table top.

“You look well rested,” Lieut remarked dryly as he and Fairris sat down at the table.

“Very droll Lieut.” Vythe looked at him and blinked slowly. “I’ll have you know that I had little to no sleep at all.”

“Preparing a teleportation spell?” Lieut remarked.

“Well that is just it,” Vythe looked down at the table. “I should tell you Lieut-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lieut cut in.

Vythe looked up in confusion. “What?”

“Do not worry about the teleportation. I have decided to travel with you and Fairris out of the mountains.”

“Why?” asked Vythe in surprise. “You still have business in The Port, correct?”

“Yes,” Lieut replied. “But my business is not that pressing.”

Vythe rubbed a hand across his forehead and picked some sleep out of the corner of his eye.

“Very well.” Vythe yawned and stretched his arms above his head.

“I thought you would be more upset,” Fairris remarked. “Considering you spent the night preparing the spell.”

“Some things cannot be helped,” Vythe said as he scratched the back of his head.

Lieut found Vythe’s responses a bit strange, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“We need to leave now,” Fairris said suddenly.

Vythe looked at the elf in surprise. “Not before I break my fast I think.”

“You do not understand,” Fairris quickly replied and she leant forward over the table. “The man with the blond hair at the bar is a guard from the Gaia Prison.”

Both Lieut and Vythe looked over at the man at the bar. The traveller had dirty blond hair, a three-day beard and was wearing weather worn traveller’s clothes.

“Maybe he is a guard no longer,” Vythe suggested, turning back to Fairris.

But Fairris was shaking her head. “No. His name is Liuden De’Vaan, he always took his job very seriously, and he is very ambitious. Likely he was sent after us by Rathgard along with the Head Hunters your friend Elardōre was leading. See, look at his skin. Those small bruises all over his body indicate that he has had teleporter’s pox recently. Elardōre must have left him here before meeting us along The Gaia Pass.”

“If he is a problem, why don’t you just kill him?” Lieut asked casually.

Both Vythe and Fairris looked at him in surprise.

“There is no point in killing for the sake of it,” Vythe remarked.

“If I considered him my problem I would kill him,” Lieut replied simply.

“Perhaps it would be best if we just left,” Vythe said as he stood up. “Before we are noticed or before he does become your problem, Lieut.”

Fairris readily agreed and quickly rose. Dismissing the remark Lieut joined their departure.

In short time Lieut was walking alongside Vythe and Fairris as they made their way along the road leading down from the mountains. Inüer had crested the eastern mountains and it seemed as if it would be a pleasant day. The going was easy enough as the path they took wound through the tall peaks, crossing gorges that were hundreds of miles deep. Sometimes the road went through the mountain itself with long tunnels, providing some shelter from the icy winds that were beginning to pick up.

Vythe and Fairris talked easily, but Lieut still found it awkward to converse with them. Choosing to journey with companions was a new situation for him to be in, and he was still not sure if it was a good idea.

Halfway through the morning Vythe and Fairris decided to stop for a rest and a few bites to eat in one of the short tunnels through the mountain. While Vythe and Fairris ate Lieut took some mouthfuls of water from the skin that he hung on his belt.

“I have yet to see you eat, Lieut,” remarked Vythe curiously. “And it has been over ten days since we first joined company.”

Lieut glanced at Vythe but did not reply.

“You are not a Helwyr, are you Lieut?” asked Vythe curiously.

“No,” Lieut replied. “Helwyr have white hair and yellow eyes, and more to the point they serve the Sect of Artāre, killing evil fiends and monsters. Do you really think that I would serve the religion of The Five?”

“I suppose not.” Vythe conceded. “But Helwyr are subjected to magicks of the Fog while still in the womb and as an infant. They also drink elixirs to increase their abilities, which could explain much about yourself.”

Lieut scoffed at the remark. “Next you will say that you thought me to be a Sineater from the Sect of Agnōir.”

Vythe laughed aloud at that.

“How can people believe that if you pay someone they will take your sins upon themselves so that you may find salvation?” Fairris said bitterly. “It is all a lie you know. How they make their lips look cracked and burned, it is all just makeup and illusionary magicks.”

Vythe laughed again. “Is not all religion an illusion?”

“Let’s go,” Lieut said decisively.

It seemed as if both Vythe and Fairris agreed with his statement, for they packed quickly and were soon walking briskly along the road again.

“I met a Helwyr once,” Vythe remarked as they walked along. “Her name was Rivian, Rivian of Garrald.”

“Her?” Fairris asked in surprise.

“A rarity I know,” Vythe said. “Because of the subjugation to magicks during pregnancy, the majority of Helwyr turn out to be male, and for some reason all of them are infertile.”

“You must have had fun with her then,” Fairris remarked dryly.

Vythe laughed. “I shall never tell.”

“You said she was from Garrald,” Fairris commented. “I have never been there.”

“It is a small village, west of the Grassy Downs where the Halflings seclude themselves,” Vythe happily explained. “But of course she was not actually from there. The monks of Artāre choose a home town for the Helwyr at birth, despite the fact that they are all born in the Artāre Monastery in the forest of Vhasden, in the southern reaches of Norrendōrel. Virtually on the other end of the continent from Garrald. I am always surprised at the amount of devout followers of Artāre who submit themselves to mother a Helwyr.”

“I suppose you met her in Sparren, then,” Fairris said offhandedly.

“In the Morrow Plains, east of Sparren, actually,” corrected Vythe. “We both joined a Mōrgul caravan going from Lake Ire to the north. She had finished a job from one of the Mōrgul chieftains and was recovering from some nasty wounds.”

“The clans of the Thunder Plains don’t usually allow outsiders to accompany their caravans, do they?” Fairris asked curiously.

“Not unless you can persuade them otherwise,” Vythe replied, “and that persuasion usually takes the form of gold.”

The day continued on in such a manner with Vythe and Fairris talking behind Lieut, as he walked silently in the lead. For most of the day it was pleasant with Inüer warming the crisp mountain paths, but when evening came the weather turned bad. Grey clouds rolled down from the northeast bringing with them sheets of snow and obscuring the vision of the travellers.

Lieut did not want to stop and wait out the storm, so they pushed on. The wind began to drive the snow into them making it hard to see the edges of the mountain path and sheer drop beyond, so eventually Lieut gave in to Vythe and Fairris’s desires to stop. Luckily he found a small ledge to the side of the path that was sheltered mostly by a short cliff. There they made camp, and Vythe dug a wide hole in the snow and created a fire from the Fog. Both Vythe and Fairris sat close to the fire and warmed their hands. Even though they had been casting spells of warmth upon themselves nothing could compare to a scorching fire to warm ones bones.

Lieut stood back from the fire though, not caring for the warmth of a flame, and his golden eyes looked around the small plateau. Through the haze of the blizzard he could make out the shadows of tall stones standing in a circle just ahead of him. Standing Stones, as they were called, did not concern him much, but he had always wondered why people had placed them in such a manner, it seemed an inane thing to do in his mind.

Lieut dismissed it from his mind and joined Vythe and Fairris by the fire, sitting with his back to the small cliff face, his sword across his lap.

“Fairris, before I forget, take this,” Vythe said suddenly and he pulled out a silver-banded ring with an Anther crystal set at its centre. “I acquired it off of one of the Head Hunters we met through the pass.”

Fairris thanked Vythe and took the ring, the silver band immediately shank to fit Fairris’s finger.

“Now there will be no conflict between my own ring and the crystals on Lieut’s blade when you use magicks,” said Vythe with a smile.

Fairris returned the smile before flicking her wrists to summon her twin gunblades. Unlike before when Fairris had used her Fog created weapons, this time Lieut did not feel the hunger of his sword to consume the Fog, but that was to be expected. The Fog that had created Fairris’s gunblades was being controlled by the Anther crystal ring on her finger. The crystals set on his sword only absorbed Fog that was not already in control of another Anther crystal, which was why it absorbed energy waves directed at him.

Lieut’s mind flashed back to the time he had spent learning all this information about magicks and how the Fog was used. Energy blasts were different to other magicks, when an energy wave is cast the Fog held within the Anther Crystal is released, thus allowing his sword to absorb it. But for spells that create weapons, buffs and other sustained conjurations not directed at him or still in control of the caster, the Fog could not be absorbed by his sword.

Although if the concentration of the caster of the Fog weapon wavers, it leaves the weapons vulnerable to being shattered, and if that happens the Fog that made the weapons will be absorbed by his sword.

Lieut had also learnt that a person’s skill and strength with magicks was dependant on their inner power, or natural energy flow, called Quia or Connexion. This Quia was relative to an individual’s affinity with the Fog, so theoretically even he could develop an affinity with the Fog and use magicks if he chose to.

“You people and your Fog,” Lieut muttered to himself.

“The Fog gives us strength,” Vythe replied, hearing what Lieut had said. “Our world revolves around the magicks derived from the Fog, and the weapons like Fairris’s gunblades are stronger than any metal.”

“My sword would shatter any Fog-made weapon within minutes.” Lieut stated confidently.

Vythe narrowed his eyes. “Perhaps, but as you said, your sword is made from a Zodiarc stone, and I am sure there is no other metal that would even come close to comparing.”

“The metal of a Zodiarc stone is not the only type that is stronger than Fog weapons,” Lieut replied with a shake of his head.

“What others then?” Vythe prompted, genuinely curious.

“Croxide ore from the Amber Mountains make a metal called crimson, if made correctly a weapon of that steel, imbued with dwarven runes, would shatter Fog weapons easily enough,” Lieut explained.

“I have heard of that metal.” Fairris added. “But the dwarves of the Amber Mountains keep it all to themselves and rarely trade it.”

“Mythrl, though very rare, is another metal stronger than Fog weapons,” Lieut continued.

“What Mythrl weapons there might be, are stolen away by Elves to hide.” Vythe replied. “Or locked within unbreakable vaults of kings.”

“Take it if you want it,” Lieut stated flatly. “And considering it is stronger than any Fog blade, why not?”

“Believe me, I have tried.” Vythe laughed. “Trust me when I say that those vaults are unbreakable.”

“Take it from the Dwarves or the Elves then,” replied Lieut, unblinking.

“I am not too keen on fighting my way through a legion of dwarves, thank you,” Vythe replied with a laugh.

“If you were strong enough it would matter little,” Lieut replied simply.

Vythe’s mood changed after Lieut’s remark.

“With no regard for who you may hurt in the process?” Vythe asked seriously.

“That is life, Vythe,” Lieut replied. “The weak die and the strong live on.”

“So we should have a perpetual state of anarchy?” Vythe baulked.

“I thought that would be to your liking,” Lieut said. “How many years did you spend travelling the realms and taking what you wanted alongside Elardōre?”

Vythe paused and looked sternly at Lieut. “That was before I realised the price I had to pay.”

“Anarchy sounds like a good idea to me,” Fairris remarked absently. “No authority, a world where you have to be strong or die.”

“Even in anarchy there is authority,” Lieut replied. “The weak will quickly flock to the strong, begging for protection, and soon the strong will create an authority and enforce rules on the weak.”

“A dictatorship is your answer?” Vythe cringed. “One authority and a tyranny over all?”

“One ruler does not mean a tyranny,” Lieut was quick to say.

“And what if that one ruler is weak?” Vythe asked seriously.

“Then they will be eaten whole by those who are stronger,” replied Lieut, as if it were obvious.

“Take, for example, Essinendeür.” Vythe rebutted. “Can you imagine what it would be like if there was one king ruling all six realms? Undoubtedly the High Commission would be secretly pulling the strings of this king for their own purposes. It may seem pleasant at first and wars between realms would stop, but what if the line of the king was broken? Essinendeür would rip itself apart, each lord of each realm would all make claims to the throne and civil war would burn this world to ashes.”

“Please, enough talk,” Fairris cut in before Lieut could reply. “I am still suffering from the poison, I need rest and it is hard with you two arguing.”

“My apologies Fairris,” Vythe said sincerely. “But here, drink this. It should help. It is a healing potion I, let us say acquired, from the Monastery.”

Fairris chuckled slightly before she swallowed the green liquid in the small vial in one gulp. Thanking Vythe, Fairris then turned over to find some sleep.

“Vythe,” Lieut said, grabbing the man’s attention. “Political control comes and goes, but one thing will always remain: the weak die and the strong survive.”

“That may be so Lieut,” Vythe conceded, “which is why the strong need to protect and aid the weak.”

Lieut did not reply, despite his disagreement.

“I too, need rest.” Vythe yawned. “Are you alright to take the first watch?”

Lieut looked away in reply, and Vythe made himself comfortable as he curled up close to the fire.

It was a strange thought to Lieut that Vythe believed that the strong should protect those who are weak. How could someone even think like that?

Always he had been told that you needed to be strong, to be powerful, so that you would not die. By helping the feeble you only achieved in weakening yourself.

So why did Vythe say that the strong should protect the weaker people?

Lieut clenched his teeth and forced away his confusion, all were weak except for him. As he stretched away the stiffness in his neck his mind flew back to the day he had led an army through the Sentrin Gate and laid waste to the southern capital of Cir’ben.

Like an embodiment of strength and power they stormed across the northern plains of Syn’is and brought fire to the city of Cir’ben, which was now only known as the Old City Ruins. An army came to greet them in front of the city walls, but they fell like the weaklings they were. The southerners stood no chance as he and his brothers burst through the city gate, burning everything in their path. The army they led flowed through the streets like a black tide, raping and looting as they went. The weak fell at their feet on that glorious day.

Suddenly Lieut could remember more clearly the screams of the dying, the groan of the buildings burning around him, and the crying of the women and children.

Lieut felt as if he was back at that battle, the fire burning all around him, he could feel the heat on his skin. His face was streaked with dirt and sweat. His muscles ached from days of fighting. In his hand he held his sword, the blood still fresh on the blade. The smell of burning flesh filled his senses, making his eyes water.

The smoke of the burning city filled the sky, turning the light red, like blood. He heard the protest of stone as a building tumbled, and a scream that was silenced by a falling brick. Rain began to fall, cleaning away the dirt on his face and blood from his sword.

Then just as suddenly as the images had come to him he was looking back into the fire and at Vythe and Fairris who still slept by it. A light snow was falling and accumulating on his shoulders and lap, melting in his hair and burying him. A lot of time must have passed whilst he reflected on his past victories for it was dawn and Inüer was already brightening the overcast skies in the east.

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PS – stay tuned to find out what happens next on Lieut’s adventures through the Gaia Mountains

If you have yet to read the previous chapters you can find them all on my Tablo profile. Or if you cannot wait for the next installment you can buy the whole thing through any good online bookstore in both Kindle or Paperback formats.