Then, Neru suddenly reached out and clasped Rajido’s hand.
“Shaman,” she said softly, “the Tower will soon face great chaos. After the Imperial Summit, you should return home as well. My father will welcome you with open arms. I swear it.”
“Return?” Rajido echoed. “Now? Do you not know why I departed in the first place?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “And what do you mean by chaos?”
Neru’s brow furrowed. “That matter—”
Elios stepped in at once, his voice low but firm.
“Remember what you swore to Lord Viltar.”
Of course.
Tell no soul, even the Frothena.
“Viltar?” Rajido’s voice cut clean through her thoughts. “What dealings had you with that snake?”
“That’s a bold word, coming from your mouth,” Elios answered immediately with a cold snort, his gaze boring into the shaman’s tattoo.
Rajido ignored him. His gaze remained fixed upon Neru.
“Child. I know not what current now stirs the waters, but,” he said gravely. “Beware of that man. I’ve worked with him before, and it was an… unnerving experience.”
Elios’s jaw tightened. He spoke each word with defiance.
“Until now, I have heard such accusations only from greedy merchants and arrogant nobles. I did not expect them from a Prime Healer with such a record.”
Rajido cast him a frigid glance.
“Oh. Another Viltar’s devoted follower?”
“I will announce it with pride if I am,” Elios said nonchalantly.
“The thirteen ultimate antidotes I devised were each funded by Viltar’s coffers. You learned my name through that matter, did you not?”
Elios did not answer, yet his silence was admission enough.
“And did you ever pause to wonder,” Rajido continued, a chill smile forming, “what poisons those antidotes were truly made to counter?”
“What do you mean?” Elios asked, his breath a tad heavier than usual.
“Of course you did not,” Rajido went on. “To purge venom, heal the afflicted, save lives—how noble it all appeared. Who would dare question it? Yet to create those thirteen supreme antidotes, we tested hundreds of poisons. It was, in truth, a grand research about toxins.”
His voice hardened.
“The final result—thirteen remedies—were duly entered into the Tower’s records, as custom demanded. But the prior process—including five ultimate failed tests— belonged to Viltar.”
“Failed tests?” Neru asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“Five poisons for which no cure was ever found,” Elios murmured, his brow knitting. “In other words… certain death.”
“Just so.” Rajido gave a low sound of approval. “You are not witless, at least.”
He drew a breath, bitter amusement flickering across his features.
“My fame rose, of course. Yet Viltar—the one behind—gained the most. He never did it out of goodwill.”
Elios snorted.
“Do I smell jealousy? Sounds to me you are just bitter that you took the short end of the bargain."
"Do I look like I desire some coins, Veyran?" Rajido asked with a straight face, pointing at his clothes.
Elios did not falter.
"If there had been problems, you would've cited them immediately. If I recall it right, back then, he was not even the Archon.”
“Precisely,” Rajido said. “At that time he was no more than Veyra’s representative, and he had enemies in plenty. Yet when he held in his grasp the perfect instrument of death, what did he do? Nothing. Not one of his foes perished by poison. What does that tell you?”
“Great patience,” Neru answered with a slow nod.
“Or that he never deemed them worthy opponents,” Rajido said firmly. “He was confident with his control.”
Elios rejected the notion at once.
“Lord Viltar is known for his intelligence and restraint. That is no revelation. And let’s not forget—throughout all this, you stood at his side. You accepted the renown, yet lay the darker share at his feet. Is hypocrisy the true measure of a Frothena?”
Neru’s temper flared, but she saw Rajido fall into troubled thought and held her tongue.
After a moment, he spoke.
“Renown? That affair was never my pride. You have met him, have you not, Neru? A gifted speaker. His tongue keen enough to carve into a man’s very soul. My greatest regret is that I listened too long, and by the time I sought to withdraw, it was too late. Remember this: whatever deal you hold with Viltar, end it quickly.”
Elios grew impatient.
“These are but conjectures. Nothing has come to pass, yet you already speak as though mourning.”
Neru cast him a sharp glance.
“Is not our present course also born of conjecture?” she asked quietly.
Then she turned back to Rajido.
“I am grateful for your concern,” she said with quiet resolve. “But at this hour, Lord Viltar is the only one who can aid me. Whether his nature be light or shadow may be judged later. For now, an ally such as he cannot be relinquished. When all is settled, I will return to Frothen.”
Rajido studied her for a moment. Then he exhaled, the sound heavy with memory.
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“May you prove wiser than I was,” he said softly.
Their discourse did not slow their stride. Guided by the shaman, they ascended by a lesser branch and reached the fifth Level without hindrance. The smoke thinned with astonishing speed, as though swallowed by unseen lungs within the walls.
“They fixed the problem quickly,” Neru observed.
Elios inclined his head, unsurprised.
“So long as the Arcane system remains intact, the Tower’s defenses are near impregnable.”
Only then did Neru fully grasp the weight of what Elios had wrought below. To cripple the security of an entire Level was akin to tearing a scale from the hide of a Drovar—no small provocation, and certainly with no small risk.
When they came close to their destination, Elios suddenly lifted a hand in warning.
“Someone ahead.”
Rajido slowed, casting him a doubtful glance.
Neru gave him a brief nod. “Trust him.”
Having agreed upon their roles beforehand, the three of them slipped calmly into their performance. Neru and Elios leaned upon one another, feigning weakness, their steps uneven as they followed in Rajido’s wake.
Footsteps echoed from afar.
Four men.
Swift, yet light. Skilled.
Neru drew a slow breath and let her body slacken, mimicking the most wretched stagger she could contrive.
The first figure to emerge from the haze was unexpectedly young, scarcely past twenty by appearance. The crimson fabric hung heavy with an ominous aura, its frayed hem brushing against hobnailed boots caked in dust. Beneath the cloak, layered plates of brigandine shifted softly over a thick gambeson, absorbing the weight of steel and maybe the memory of bloodshed. A simple open-faced helm rested on his head, its brow etched with a faded sigil — A serrated crypt cleaver crossing a long sword.
He faltered a fraction upon sighting them, though no alarm showed upon his face. Behind him came three middle-aged men with similar outfits, differing in build and bearing, yet none possessed the quiet authority that cloaked the youth. He was plainly their leader.
He approached with composure and inclined his head to Rajido.
“Prime Healer. With the alarm sounding so, why are you out instead of within your chamber?”
Rajido gave a curt snort, donning irritation with ease.
“My Apotheka beneath Level four caught fire, how could I stay idle? And yet, here you are, strolling as if nothing happened.”
The young man inclined his head slightly, unruffled by the tone.
“We have received the reports as well. None has yet gotten close to the scene, though. We suspect the smoke might be compromised.”
The calmer the adversary, the more troublesome.
“Compromised? Of course it is,” Rajido snapped. “Medicinals aflame release no small amount of poison. If you’re not hurried, the whole of Level Four shall soon be with corpses.”
“Each man attends to his own charge,” the youth replied evenly. “We are Wardens. We possess our own mandate. Should even the Level perish entirely, so what? It lies beyond our concern.” His gaze sharpened a shade. “And you still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing out here?”
Rajido answered without the slightest tremor.
“Do what I’m supposed to do. Saving lives. Two patients were lost during the evacuation. I returned to retrieve them.”
The young man’s gaze passed over Neru and Elios, cool and assessing.
“You meant these two?”
Rajido inclined his head as though it were of nothing.
“Night patrol. Injured last evening.”
"What's with the masks?" the Warden asked.
"Smoke."
“And no stretcher?” he pressed.
“Tonight’s disturbance caught us all unprepared. I’m taking them to the recovery ward.”
With that, he resumed walking.
As they drew abreast of the youthful Warden, Elios gave a slight nod of greeting.
Neru had scarcely time to imitate him when the young man’s hand shot toward her chest, swift as a striking viper.
She reacted at once.
Her palm opened wide in a V, thumb downward, catching his advance at the tiger’s gate between their hands. In the same breath, she rotated her elbow, wrenching his wrist and forcing his forearm down in a sharp overturn. When the motion ended, her hand had already tightened into a fist, poised to strike.
The youth was no dullard. Realizing he had lost the initiative, he withdrew and sprang back two paces, laughter breaking from him.
“With a gait like that, you might fool simple guards,” he said lightly, “but not us Wardens. Though I must admit, this skill of yours—”
He couldn't finish.
A sudden whistling tore through the air.
The young man ducked instinctively. His helm caved inward an instant before shattering into fragments. Cries rang out.
“Young lord!”
Neru tightened her calves like a drawn bow, ready for the next move, but Elios’s firm hand on her shoulder told her not to rush.
The staff that had swept past returned in the same motion, hurtling toward the remaining three Wardens.
The three middle-aged Wardens withdrew at once, evading the sweep, then fanned outward into a triangular formation, hemming the three of them within its narrow bounds.
The young man cast a glance at the shattered remnants of his helm upon the stone. When he lifted his eyes again to Rajido, they burned.
“What is the meaning of this, Prime Healer?” he demanded through clenched teeth. “Do you mean to rebel?”
Rajido answered with a laugh even as his staff moved.
“Rebel?” he scoffed. “And who are you, whelp, to speak of treachery to me? By what right did you raise your hand at my patients unprovoked?”
The long staff descended like a collapsing tide, its shadow engulfing the youth. Blow followed blow in relentless succession, each forcing him backward step by step. Whenever he sought to open his mouth in retort, the crushing pressure of the weapon bore down again, driving the words back behind grinding teeth.
“Insolence! To raise a hand against the young lord—!”
Though the remaining three Wardens drew steel and rushed to intervene, they could not stem the tempest that was Rajido’s assault. His staff moved like a storm-wind over the open sea. Within moments, one blade splintered outright, broken clean beneath a crushing strike.
Rajido shot Neru a sharp glance between blows. The message was plain as day.
Go. Now. While their attention is divided.
Yet she hesitated.
Wardens were no common soldiers. If Elios spoke true, they were elites—carefully chosen, rigorously trained. Four of them together were no trifling matter. Should fortune turn ill—
Elios seemed to read her thoughts. He caught her shoulder and drew her back a step, his voice low against her ear.
“They will not dare press him too far. To harm a renowned healer is one of the gravest taboos within these walls.”
Then he walked away first. Fast.
Neru steeled herself at last. She cast Rajido a final look—gratitude mingled with stern insistence.
Don’t die.
Then she bent her knees, gathered her strength, and sprang after Elios in a swift, low arc.
She caught up to him within a dozen strides. The corridors blurred past in streaks of stone and torchlight.
“If we descend to Level One,” she asked under her breath, “will there be an ambush?”
Elios shook his head even as he ran.
“We can no longer take that path. Wardens have been posted right beside this ascension pillar—meaning they have already anticipated our plan.”
“Then what remains?” Neru pressed.
Elios didn’t answer. His plans were good, but they always got interrupted by some ill-timed surprises.
Wardens, Rajido, sky sentries,...
Her contemplation snagged upon the last. She asked Elios without breaking stride.
“Those sky sentries… How do they move?”
Elios cast her a puzzled look, but he answered nonetheless.
“They have big sails to catch the wind like ships.”
“How about the descent?” she pressed.
“They kill the fire.”
“And it won’t drop?”
“No. The same principle,” he answered without a beat. “The more air it swallows, the stronger the drag. It will keep floating for a while.”
Floating? Neru frowned slightly, thinking back on what Elios had said about ascension pillars.
All the better.
She closed her eyes, shutting off all her senses for a moment, before speaking up.
“Listen. I have an idea. And you won’t like it.”