A crowd was gathered in the Temple Square, though the name was a misnomer. There were six temples, not simply one — arranged in a semicircle, facing the so-called Temple Square. It was a gathering place for religious rites, a place where the people can spill out from the temples if they couldn’t fit in the Temple proper during certain festivities. In theory, at least. In practice, the people of Alasvir rarely observed the rites, and those who did were usually the recent migrants.

It was, then, somewhat surprising to see the Temple Square filled with people. Impassioned, frenzied people, calling for the blood of whoever had been responsible for setting The Cranky Kraken on fire. The fact that they didn’t know who did it, or even if it was coming from the Temples and not just a disgruntled follower didn’t matter. There was no place in their rage for reason, as Julian would have once known — and as Sarah was now finding out.

Inside the Temple of Thelth, Councilmember Jeun paced and worried — no, not Councilmember Jeun. In this place, he was Prelate Jeun. And he had no cause to worry. He’d been in the right, hiring thugs to deface the inn — even lending them the artifact that could conjure magical flames. And they hadn’t returned with it, yet. He hoped they would, soon, or else the High Prelate would have his skin—

But the issue of the mob outside remained. It had picked up many people in its march from the Docks District inland towards the Temples District and now numbered maybe half a thousand souls. Oddly enough, people had stopped joining at some point in their trip, even though before that it had drawn new members like a magnet.

Sarah would have identified that specific point as the moment her skill had ran out. But even though the Dark Crusader’s Call had stopped gathering new people, those who’d been swept by its effect remained under its control — herself included. A smoldering rage, shared by all.

And they now waited for Jeun to show himself.

Sarah’s ultimatum — the five minutes she said she would wait — were down to two right now. And Jeun paced restlessly along the marble floors. What would she do? Would she burn down the temples, one by one, if nobody stood forward? Would the City Guard step in? Where were they right now, even? They should have broken up the mob ages ago!

But they hadn’t. And the timer ticked down.

One minute remained.

Jeun continued to worry. Should he find one of the acolytes to send as tribute? To pin the blame on them? No, he couldn’t. He was a Prelate of the god Thelth, who’d been an arbiter of justice, a hand of law. Jeun’s actions may not have been lawful, but they’d been right. The Floating City could not harbor the heathens. But if he didn’t step forward, innocent people would get hurt. He could feel the mob’s anger, even sympathize with it somewhat. They chanted of justice for the innkeeper who’d lost everything, and Jeun winced. She likely hadn’t known who she was hosting. He’d make sure she was compensated fully for her loss.

Twenty seconds remained.

Jeun strode toward the door. The City Guard had to intervene. They had to. But if they didn’t, he’d give himself up. But he’d wait till the very last second. Someone had to intervene.

Two seconds remained.

Jeun pressed down on the door’s handle. Mid-way, he paused. The chanting had stopped.

~*~

I locked onto Sarah as soon as the Temple Square was in sight. She was easy to spot in the crowd, with her pitch-black armor that reflected nothing. David and Shiro stood behind her. She had climbed on top of a crate to make up for her height, and held a torch aloft—

Not a torch. A wooden plank, still burning. The remains of the inn.

It was immediately obvious that the gathering wasn’t natural. Someone had controlled their minds, somehow. I tried to remember which of the Archmagi lived in the city — was any of them a Mind age? But an Adept with a support from other mages could have done this as well. Why? Just to put us in a bad light?

But the reasoning could wait. Whatever magic had taken control of the crowd, I could dispel it. I hovered above the Square, Cameron still hanging in the air next to me — he hadn’t figured out how to stand upright, or even just still, when being levitated, the poor boy. It was a good thing he was a Revenant, or he’d have been emptied his stomach many times by now.

First, I needed to see what I was dealing with. They were still waiting, from what I could see, so I had time. Mind Vision came at my beckoning, a spell which would allow me to see all outside influences affecting this crowd. And what I saw was—

Nothing.

According to my spell, the crowd was under no magical influence whatsoever — aside from a handful, but their spells were clearly unrelated. But how could that be? Their anger was clearly at least partly manufactured.

Mind-altering substances, then? Impossible for a crowd this size, and it would have had to be inhaled. Some other kind of magic, then? I swapped Mind Vision for Soul Sight and it similarly showed nothing except for the glow of magical enhancements.

It had to be the Mind, somehow. I tried again, this time imbuing it with Origin.

And it was there. The Square didn’t explode in color, but there were threads. They weren’t quite Origin, but I’d seen their kind before — the dungeon core, on the island. The threads connected all those present to Sarah, and the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She had rallied them, with a Skill. We hadn’t talked about them, but it made sense. Perhaps another aura.

But how did I dispel this? The threads were faded — fading, still — but slowly. The skill wasn’t active anymore, and I guessed they’d be completely gone within ten to fifteen minutes. But I didn’t have that much time.

I drew Mind and Origin. When my soul had been attacked, I learned the hard way how tricky it was to destroy a spell that involved Origin. But minds were malleable, and often contradictory. I didn’t need to destroy it. Just neutralize it.

The framework, a cradle, the intent to calm, and as much Mind and Origin as I could safely draw. It formed over the plaza, and just as Sarah raised her makeshift torch to yell something, I unleashed the working over the gathering.

The yelling ceased. Sarah was agape. The crowd had frozen in place.

And floating in the air, on the other side of the plaza, now stood another mage — I didn’t recognize her, but I could feel the roiling mana beneath her skin. Like me, an Archmage.

And the confrontation grew so much more complicated.

~*~

Sarah had made many bad decisions in her life. Trusting her would-be friend with her deepest secret, for one.  Running away from home, another.

But as she stood, torch in hand, at the head of a formerly-angry mob, she realized she’d messed up big time. She turned her head to her friends — David and Shiro were similarly in a daze, coming to terms with what they’d done. Starting a riot? In a city that was barely neutral to them?

And now, horror gnawed on Sarah. She’d seemed to certain just moments ago. She’d punish the wrongdoer for their crimes, and set everything right again — how? Had she even had a plan for that? Was she just going to burn down the whole district?

She cautiously lowered the torch, turning to look at the mob that had come together in the Square. The mob she’d brought together. With that stupid skill.

She made a mental note to correct its definition. Taunt for enemies, yes, but a berserk, not a rally, for friendlies. It wouldn’t help now, but if she managed to get out of this mess with her skin intact—

She took one long glance at the Square.

Skin intact was optional. She just wanted to get out of this mess in as few pieces as she could. But with the crowd’s confusion turning to fear and anger — real anger, this time — Sarah realized it was becoming less and less likely she could get out of this.

But Alexis had gotten away! An inkling of hope bloomed. If she could get Julian to help—

She heard Shiro gasp. “Sarah. Look up.”

She did. Above the temples, a woman hovered. Julian could do that, too. A mage, then, and powerful. But she wasn’t looking at the Square, she was looking at—

Sarah followed her stare, turning around, and she found Julian, similarly hovering, staring at the woman just as intently as she was. And Cameron was there too, seeming to tumble about in the air.

But neither of them did anything. They stood, and watched. Were they talking telepathically?

The crowd noticed her looking, and one by one raised their eyes to the sky — and froze. A murmur went through the crowd, quieting down the malcontents. Fear turned to horror, and anger turned to fear. If those two came to blows…

Sarah trembled. This was all her fault.

~*~

Feodrin watched the supposed Dark Lord with trepidation. She’d arrived right at the tail-end of his spell — had seen it unfold, but hadn’t been able to identify it beyond “a really big Mind spell.”

Not her specialty, by far. She specialized in Matter, and Dimension to a lesser extent. And like any other Archmage, she knew just enough of Force to fly around, and only a smattering of the rest. Physical aspects, diametrically opposed to the esoteric aspects used by her opponent.

She stood there, trying to project confidence, but her mind was a whirl — she didn’t have all the facts. The message she’d received from the Priestess of Yain had been little more then the babbling of a panicking young girl — that there was a mob in the Temple Square, and they had fire, and she needed to come right now before they all died.

Feodrin didn’t know what had caused the riots. For all her piousness, she knew enough of the Temples to give the riot a good chance of being perfectly warranted. But the Dark Lord was here too, and that complicated the matters.

Had he started the riots in the first place, to use them for his own purposes? Had he arrived late, like her, and was merely suborning it? What had the spell done?

The last one was the most important. Mind magic was tricky. For all she knew, he could have implanted a geas in the people, that they kill themselves if she attacks. To hold them hostage.

But if someone held hostages, they’d usually make demands, right? But the Dark Lord had been silent, watching her as she watched him. A stalemate, of sorts.

Ideas flashed in her head. If he had the upper hand, he would have done something, she thought. That he was standing there meant he thought himself at a disadvantage.

Or he could be baiting her. Mind games. All the while, those on the ground were frozen in fear. In her mind, Feodrin was too — she couldn’t let it come to blows. If it did, it’d be a massacre.

She was suddenly, painfully aware of the conjured lance she was clutching on to. It was of her own magic made — she didn’t need to throw it, merely to will it to move, and it would.

A shuffle from below. At once, both Feodrin and the Dark Lord looked at the disturbance. The knight in black armor had taken a step forwards, closer to Feodrin — and Feodrin’s heart lurched. She’d read the reports — enough to know that was the Dark Lord’s minion. If the knight was leading the riot, then—

Feodrin made her decision. The knight was a threat. If she did anything strange, she would—

The knight lifted her hand, up to the visor. The Archmagus of Matter reacted.

The spear of disintegration flew.

~*~

Sarah knew the whole fiasco was her fault — well, except for the fire. But her reaction had led to all this, and now all these people were at risk because of her.

Sarah looked up to the female mage. She looked confident, sure of herself. Sarah knew her Boss was strong, but she’d also seen the destruction caused by Ludis back in Ravenrock. If she was anything like him, and Sarah thought she was, then all the people behind her were in great danger.

She saw a single way out of this mess. The simple solution that Heroes never did in the stories she’d read. But one that she thought was audacious enough to work.

She’d take responsibility for her actions and beg forgiveness. She’d explain her skill, and that it had been an accident, and then they’d probably put her in prison — but Julian could bail her out, maybe. And if not, she had tested out the cell bars a bit the first time. She could bend them easily.

Sarah took a step forwards. The mage’s head snapped to her, and for a moment Sarah hesitated. She raised her hand to her helm, to lift her visor so the mage woman — another Archmagus, she was sure — could look her in the eyes. Her metal-clad fingers touched the visor, and—

Something white flashed before her eyes.

~*~

He was a bear. And a wight. And his Master was in danger.

He was no longer on the ship. He had disobeyed his orders. But when the burning anger had turned to glacial fear, Winnie had known something was wrong, and he dashed, full speed ahead to save his Master.

Their link told him where she was. The obstacles in his path either moved or crumbled before his charge. But he had to be there, now. There was no more time.

He saw the two mages hanging in the air like robes that had been put out to dry. He saw the one with the pointy thing. He saw it pointed towards his Master.

He saw the glint of panic in the Enemy-mage-solid-woman’s eyes, and even with his limited intellect, he understood what was about to happen.

The bear pushed with its hindquarters, taking to the air and sailing over the crowd. Master’s companions were next to her, but they were in the way. Winnie trampled them as he landed, and his massive bulk pushed Sarah, throwing her away from the lance’s path—

Just barely. The lance touched the side of Sarah’s helmet, and true to its name, what the lance had touched had turned into nothingness. Blond hair peeked out from the gap in the helmet, and the visor fell to a side, its left hinge now nonexistent.

The lance had punched cleanly through the bear, but that was okay. He was a bear, after all — there was a lot of him to go around.

And he was sure he would be getting many scritches after today.

~*~

Where had that damnable wight appeared from? It was supposed to be on the boat! Had Sarah ordered it to come? But when? There had been no time!

With a thought, I sent a query to the bear — but found no purchase. Winnie, the wight bear, was somehow acting outside of its defined parameters. A curious anomaly, but—

There was no time for that now. The wight’s arrival had caused the crowd to scatter, and I knew better than to make an enemy of Alasvir. I needed them, still — retreat was preferable to escalation.

From the ground, David looked up in confusion.

“Retreat to the ship,” I yelled, using Force to project my voice in a narrow cone. I saw him yank Shiro and Sarah away, frantically gesturing. I flew closer to the ground, granting the three running heroes Haste, while keeping an eye out for attacks from behind.

If she was smart, the still-hovering mage would allow us to retreat in peace. If not…

We’d see. But I hoped she would.

~*~

Feodrin’s eyes had gone wide when the bear appeared out of nowhere. She stared, confused by its sudden arrival — then remembered the spear. It was nowhere to be seen, except for the hole where it had entered the ground. She summoned the spear back to her hand — if she didn’t, or if she didn’t cut off its mana, it would end up at the center of the planet eventually.

When she looked back up to the Dark Lord, he was gone. And the crowd below was in a frenzy, screaming and running for their lives. And the knight—

Was gone. No — Feodrin saw the bear, and the knight upon it, as they ran out of the Square. And the Dark Lord as well! Still carting around the little mage. Was that his plan all along? Make use of the confusion to slip away?

No, that didn’t make sense at all. But he was getting away — his back was to her, and she had her lance. She could end him, unless he had shielded himself…

She took aim with her spear, ready to throw, and—

A knife was at her throat. Two knives. And a third, and a fourth around her hand, the one with her spear. Three assassins — mage-assassins, with enchanted weapons and enough magic between them to blow up the plaza — stood uncomfortably close to her, ready to kill her if she as much as breathed.

“Message from the guildmistress,” one said.

Feodrin swallowed, the blade cutting deeper into her skin as she did. “Yes?”

The same assassin continued. “‘That one’s spoken for. Keep your hands away, or lose them,’ she says.”

“Understood?” another voice came as a whisper, blowing into her ear.

“Crystal.”

She saw the Dark Lord and his minions disappear into the streets. Feodrin remained in the air long after the assassins left, their job done.

Feodrin breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t been a blood-bath, at least. But the cut on her throat tingled, and a new fire burned in her eyes.

She’d been caught off-guard by the assassins, but never again.

That uppity Raina had misstepped for the last time.

~*~

The Reborn Sparrow’s sails were unfurled within the hour. We’d run into Alexis on the way back — she’d been trying to catch up, running against the tide of people. But now we were back on the ship.

And it had been a complete disaster. A blunder on all sides — two mute, indecisive Archmagi and a foolish knight with a temper worse than mine. The only actor in this play with any kind of intelligent thought had been the wight bear, against all reason. He’d mutated, somehow. I would have to dissect him once I cooled off.

At least it hadn’t come to a fight. I could have held her off, at least, but not once the others came to back her up — and they would have. It was their city, after all.

But we got away. I had no doubt we would have been expelled from the city once their council was caught up to speed. Sarah had caused a riot.

I stood at the prow, staring dejectedly at the sea. The kids kept their distance. I wasn’t skulking—

Actually, I was skulking. Alasvir was an important part of the itinerary. Without it, I had next to no clues on where to go next. And there were so many dungeons in the Archipelagos.

A familiar clang of metal boots approached. She stopped, waited a breath. Then she spoke. “I fucked up.”

I turned to see Sarah, ready to scold her, but the reprimand died in my throat when I saw her face. Distraught beyond words. I sighed. “It’s alright. Nobody died, so I shall mark this as a win.”

She smiled sadly. “Thanks, but I know it’s not. I messed up your plans.”

I grunted. “Partially. I would have liked to visit the Adenturers’ Guild, but at least I did find out some useful names at the library.” Yet I would have liked to spend a few more days there. If only—

“I’m sorry.”

I sighed. “Don’t be. We can try again after tempers cool off. If I donate enough gold, they’ll probably forgive us.” A lie, in part. I would need to contact Raina, and hope she could intercede on my behalf, but I doubted I could grease enough palms.

Sarah brightened up a bit. “Hopefully. By the way, I wanted to show you something.”

She reached behind her neck and pulled on a string. She lifted a figurine out of her armor. “Remember this?”

It was an intricately carved dragon — from the same series like the little fox that had taught me how to use Origin. “I remember. You bought it in Ardenburg.”

“Yup. But I didn’t buy this. It was a robin when I got it — and I never took it off. Last I checked — like, yesterday — it was still a bird, I’m pretty sure. Do you think it means something?”

I started at the figurine. “It does,” I said finally. It meant that the Fox was still spying on me. That they were sending a message. And I was pretty sure what they were telling me to do. “Can I borrow it for a few hours? I would like to give it a closer look.”

Sarah pulled the string over her head and handed me the figurine. “Don’t break it.”

I nodded, though my mind was already whirling. I would have to double check, but—

If the Fox was suggesting what I thought they were suggesting…

Then my answers lay within the nest of Dragons.

Sorry

The finale of the Alasvir arc! This was a tough chapter to write, and it's about twice my usual chapter length, but I didn't think I could split it into two. The whole arc was originally meant to be a very short breather arc, but it kinda... got away from me. I'm still not sure if I managed to weave it right or if it fell flat, but I did my best. Next up - dragons (maybe (probably))!