I wrote him before we left the capital to translate a passage I couldn’t read. Derizvelo is older than me by a score of years.

 

“Really?” I blinked at the drake. “You can write? Like a normal letter? How? And how many is in a ‘score’?”

 

Gideon and I sat around by the one table in the Duke’s library, a huge tome open on the table in front of us. We were blissfully alone for once, having slipped out of that government meeting and away from training a few minutes after I caught Fredrick, Breale, and Andril up on the important details of the letter. Thankfully we’d decided to call training off for the rest of the day, and Gideon had taken that moment to suggest we come here. Then, he’d chosen a specific book covered in strange glyphs.

 

Gideon shook his head as he opened the book.

 

You ask the dumbest questions sometimes.

 

“Alright, I’ll put aside your lack of thumbs for a moment, but why go to the trouble? And… where did you even send the letter?”

 

Because I couldn’t read it, obviously. See that? That was a dumb question. Same with the second one. Obviously to Andorlin, and they rerouted it.

 

“If you’re going to be an asshole about it…”

 

Gideon flipped through the pages with his claw, intently searching for something.

 

Remember that first conversation we had about Lmenli’s?

 

I chewed my lip for a second before the memory surfaced. 

 

“I seem to remember that conversation getting interrupted, actually.” I said. “All that I remember is that they do magic and make [gold]. Isn’t that all that’s important?”

 

Hardly. They represent the combined magical prowess of all three civilised races on the plateau, or rather the creation of magic itself. They are quite literally the fonts from which all thaumaturgy flows, and if not for their existence you would not be able to cast at all. 

 

“Really? Because I seemed to be casting just fine back on Earth, and we had no Lmenerlees to speak of there.”

 

Well, this world at least. Gideon amended. I have no idea why you’ve kept your casting element, but it probably doesn’t have much to do with the Lmenli. But it does have to do with why everyone here can only use fire.

 

“Because they only have the fire Lmenli.” I guessed.

 

Exactly. The dwarves hold it down in Morevechi and somehow leave it open for humanity, dragons, and other dwarves to use. I’m not sure how that specific process works.

 

“But then what about that faling we fought?” I asked. “It shot icicles and used shields like a proper earth mage. Does the restriction not apply to monsters?”

 

That seemed like just the kind of rpg-like mechanic you’d expect to find in a fantasy world, but Gideon shook his head.

 

The priests believe that it is because they follow the gryphon, and it is said he holds the Lmenli of Ice in his possession.

 

I waited for a ‘but’, but it didn’t come. 

 

“...And that’s the reason you believe, isn’t it.”

 

Pretty much. 

 

“Alright. That’s… neat I suppose.” I said. “But how does this relate to us? Do you think the easiest thing is to steal it from them?”

 

Not at all.

 

Gideon turned back to his book and pushed it towards me. On the inside, a stylised map of the known world unfurled. Vast oceans covered the south with nothing beyond, while the western mountains eventually gave way to fog and the unknown. In comparison, the north and the east were greatly detailed, with countries meticulously catalogued up to what looked to be several thousand miles away in the east. The land seemed to lose the mountains that so covered Verol, with the great peaks giving way to countless hills and yellow forests. To the north, the map descended into depictions of glaciers and snow, but it remained strangely detailed until a point marked ‘The Cardinal’ after which the fog of the unknown reigned until the edge of the page. Settlement and countries dotted the map, though curiously the entirety of the cities east of the plateau had the title of ‘Ruins of’ in front. Gideon pointed to a valley marked ‘Balmin’s Vale’ just west of the Veroline capital.

 

Here is where the star was said to fall from the sky. According to legend, it fell from the battle around Everstar’s peak and fell just west into the valley.

 

“Assuming that the thing isn’t just a metaphor, or made up.”

 

Gideon glared at me with a menace I wouldn’t have expected from him, only to return to be map with a huff.

 

Now… Assuming that we believe the reports… the first hand reports of still living dwarves and dragons… 

 

“And assuming they aren’t lying or insane from old age.” I added.

 

Then the Lmenli were launched out by a massive explosion at Everstar’s Peak. People watching recorded the directions as best they could, saying that three were launched southernly, one west, one north, and one flew high to the north-northeast. Of these, one has been found in the Blue Mountains, the Lmenli of Fire.

 

Seeing where he was going, I started shaking my head before he even finished.

 

“I love a good scavenger hunt as much as anyone, but we can’t find something like this.” I said. “Don’t we already have a meeting with the dwarves lined up? We just need to see Andril win a war and off we go to get our [gold].”

 

That was perhaps underestimating the task ahead of us, I knew, but it seemed way more doable than trekking through thousands of miles of mountains looking for gems people had been trying to find for literally thousands of years. Assumably, at least. True, I wasn’t up to date on how much the average person cared, but I was certain that this was the kind of thing countless expeditions had set out to find. Each of those Lmenli had probably seen thousands of scholars go mad trying to plot a probable trajectory from the old myths.

 

I’m not saying we don’t. Gideon argued. But what I am trying to say is that it might be worthwhile to look into alternatives. 

 

“Gid, if the books are right, these aren’t just treasures of amazing power, these are religious treasures of amazing power. How many people have tried to find the holy grail back on Earth? Or the ark of the covenant? Hell, the fountain of youth? The city of gold? I’d wager thousands of groups! What could we do that someone else hasn’t?”

 

I blinked. Why was I the one arguing for practicality? Shouldn’t this have been the other way around?

 

Gideon thumped his tail against the table irritatedly.

 

Will you just listen? Ryder, this world is not like Earth. The population of the entirety of the plateau numbers about only six million, and that’s by dubious census added to a scholar’s speculation. There are simply not enough people to truly search the place for legends, nor have the realms historically been stable enough to care for something so mythical. And when it was stable or populous enough, Veroline history has a curious trend of summoning some traumatic plague or overwhelming invasion from the east. And not only that, the Lmenli might not even be in places where people can find them. In Morevechi it was supposedly found inside the mountain, having burrowed itself inside like a drill. The others are almost definitely similarly hidden.

 

To be honest, six million sounded like a lot to me, but I kept that thought to myself.

 

“Which… proves my points?” I rolled my eyes. “Unless you’re hiding something, I don’t think we have a drill team to find something rolling around in the mantle. Or even to know where to dig.”

 

Nor was I about to suggest we try. I just thought… and if you listened I would’ve already said this… that perhaps we might try visiting the locations anyway. Because we don’t need the Lmenli, Ryder, we need the gold. 

 

The… ah, that made much more sense. Even assuming that the damned stone was buried half a mile under the earth, it would still be producing gold somehow, right? And over time that gold might even be forced to the surface through plate tectonics, right? Maybe? Mines might even have dug up some of the stuff and it could be floating around in markets this very moment. It might not be enough to dig specifically for it, but surely some had made its way to the surface, right?

 

“[Fuck], you’re right.” I said after a moment. “But wouldn’t they have a word for it then? Surely a metal like [gold] would be really bloody interesting, right?”

 

It does: skysteel. It’s just that its a pretty worthless metal for them, and definitely not found in enough quantities to be useful. 

 

“I don’t think being rare and useless has ever stopped people from seeking pretty metals. Take… well take [gold] on Earth as an example.”

 

It has uses with electricity and for its malleability, of course, but I was pretty sure people didn’t mine it originally for either of those reasons. A pretty and rare metal was always useful as a status symbol, and I wasn’t sure why it would be different here. 

 

Yes, but on earth it was also common enough to use as currency. Imagine you’re a renaissance or mediaeval peasant. Would you know the word for ‘platinum’ or ‘osmium’? Or what they are? 

 

“I mean, may-”

 

The answer is no. The same is true here of gold. If we go to the settlements near the projected landing sites given by generations of scholars, we might be able to find a small bit of gold. And we don’t need a lot, mind you. Just enough to equal the weight of two small lemons. We get that, and we get home.

 

I tried to think of another argument for that, quickly coming to questions and answering them myself seconds later. 

 

What were the chances that he was right? That [gold] really was on the surface somewhere? The Lmenli supposedly scattered millenia ago, after all, so could some of their products have made their way to mines and museums as curious oddities? No matter how much my first instincts railed against it, it did have merit.

 

“Fine. Where’re the sites then?” I eyed the tome lying open on the table, only now spotting the thin lines of reported trajectories. None of them looked especially close to Minua. 

 

Glad you asked. He swept his claw over the south of the map, where three of the lines went. 

 

Of the six, the three southern ones are bust. The Fire one that landed in Morevechi is already known, while the Lmenli of Lightning and the Lmenli of Earth landed somewhere near Fahrlake and the Darkrange respectively, both of which are just as far or farther than the Blue mountains. So we can write those off. 

 

He moved his claw to the north, where the rest of the lines concluded.

 

The Lmenli of Ice was calculated to have landed in the dwarven city of Azhnor on the mountain called ‘Hamor’s Forge’, though it was never found there. Not by dwarves, at least. I’m sure it’s been found by some faling king if not the Gryphon.

 

“The volcano, right?” I asked. “That could be the one I saw.”

 

If it was in the main volcano vent, the dwarves would’ve found it. Gideon said, crushing my theory. High band dwarf and human mages are very resistant to high temperatures, just as you are with snow. Even more so, in fact.

 

Ha, did that make me a high band mage then? Could it be that the demonbane wasn’t that bad after all?

 

That leaves two. He continued. The Lmenlis of Air and Deep. The Lmenli of Air flew towards where Fanula is now, somewhere in the vicinity of Lake Fan. The other, the Lmenli of Deep, landed somewhere in the Forest of Claws. That area was poorly populated even then, so nobody’s exactly sure where.

 

I inspected the map again, finding the places he specified. There was a large mountain range between Fangpeak, Fanula, and the Royal Duchy, and Fanula laid on the side furthest from Minua on the west side. Lake Fan resided in the centre of that duchy, which rumours in the city said would stay loyal to the senate in the coming war, making it a difficult target. The Forest of Claws, however, made up the majority of the Duchy of Fangpeak on the northern slopes of those mountains. It was one of the larger forests in Verol, and the people who lived there were seen as hardened hunters and isolated bumpkins who survived by hunting the countless monsters said to prowl its undergrowth.

 

“The bottom of a lake in enemy territory and the middle of a monster infested forest.” I muttered. “Neither sounds like places where Lord Belvan and Andril would be willing to let me go.”

 

True enough. But the Forest of Claws is one of the theoried routes the army would take towards the capital, and it lies in a neutral duchy close to us. It wouldn’t be unheard of that we could end up under its boughs, either in march to the capital or even Fanula afterwards.

 

I raised an eyebrow at my friend.

 

“And you know that… why? Have you been allowed into more meetings than me?”

 

Gideon shifted uncomfortably.

 

I’ve found that people tend not to look inside every cupboard and sheet when they enter a room, especially when it isn’t big enough for a man to hide in.

 

“Ha! You little spy!” I laughed. “I must’ve rubbed off on you more than I thought!”

 

Keep your voice down. The important aspect is that if we do end up in Fangpeak or Fanula we search around. And take any effort you can to convince them to take those paths. You might have more pull than you realise.

 

“I wish.” 

 

I inspected the map once more, frowning as something caught my eye. 

 

“Wait, why would the army go through Fangpeak to get to the capital? Wouldn’t it be a huge waste of time to go marching around the entire mountain range?”

 

Looking at the map, to get to the capital from Fangpeak you'd need to go through the entire duchy and then come south through the entire duchy of Fanula as well. And then you'd be marching up the Valley of Esilmor just the same, only having added several hundred miles to your journey.

 

The valley is both heavily fortified and the expected route. Gideon said. Remember those countless towers and fortress we passed on the way here? Each one is said to have a garrison of colg riders waiting to glide down behind enemy forces to harry them. If we took that route the army would have to either eat a ton of loses or besiege each one. The road through Fangpeak is… well, almost non-existent to be honest, but if the army marched through there and then made it to Stormwhistle pass, they could pop up on the other end of the Valley of Esilmor and take the senate by surprise. So the council has taken to an argument of time vs manpower.

 

Images of crumbling snowbound towers flitted back into my memory. I couldn’t imagine that any significant force was going to come out of any of those, of course, but it was probably better to trust the soldiers on something like this. I couldn’t be an expert in everything. Just most things.

 

“Then we’re good! I’ll see what I can do about getting us to Fangpeak. Who knows? We might even be home for Christmas!” 

 

I nodded to myself and took a step towards the door, planning on making my case immediately. Before I could even open the door, however, a sudden question struck my mind and I turned back towards the drake.

 

“Actually, Derizvelo wanted to give you that phrase as a translation. What did that specific phrase have to do with us? Why did that suddenly prompt you to bring me here?”

 

It wasn’t incredibly important, but seemed like a pretty random translation to me. ‘The bell tolled before the fourth, and yet the hunt continued’? It seemed like an interesting anecdote, to say the least.

 

That? Well it has to do with the… Ah, it doesn’t matter. Go on, I’ll join you later and tell you when I finish.

 

I idled at the door for a few more seconds before shaking my head.

 

“I am not leaving with that.” I said firmly. “You’ll just never tell me, I know you.”

 

He rolled his eyes, but then he sat down at the end of the table again.

 

I thought it had to do with another account apparently from a dwarf in Fangpeak at the time of the event. It is said that he saw something collide with the Lmenli of Deep in the air and knock it towards the south end of the Forest of Claws. That dwarf even gave a direct location of where it landed on the western slopes of the Peak of Narnil in the south of Fangpeak, so I thought we might have an easier time of finding it. The translation Derizvelo gave me indicated that the dwarf’s account said that they were looking for it before the fourth bell on the twenty first day of winter, but every other contemporary account says the Battle of the Everstar and the resulting explosion occurred around midday on that day. So I decided to throw out that hope. It reminded me of my theory, though, so I brought you here. Happy?

 

“I guess…”

 

That was a much more boring explanation than I’d assumed. Was all of Gideon’s efforts like this? I couldn’t imagine finding a thread so thin and taking it seriously enough to ask for translation help from across the country. Scholars must be some of the maddest people around if they willing to deal with crap like that.

 

Good. Let’s see what we can. Get us to Fangpeak, Ryder.