Kalia had heard of the Cave before from both her previous flings and general tavern banter. They were used for everything from drunken brawlers to cold-blooded killers.

They were a long tunnel into the earth through which a constant lukewarm breeze blew. Expeditions had been made to find the source, but the remains of a large cave-in almost a day’s journey underground was as far as anyone was willing to go.

 

The expansion of the old Fort Ettene into the city of New Ettene had raised questions about what to do with it, and an answer was quickly found. With iron bars driven into the stone walls and floor of the passage, a very convenient dungeon could be built. And so two rows of cells with a pathway between them ran into the earth, the nature of their crimes determining how deep they were kept.

 

Kalia’s trial had gone about how she had expected, the busy judge quickly ruling that her dress was a clear sign that she was a prostitute trying to attract clients outside of a brothel. No matter what or how she protested, the long line up of petty criminals behind her meant that he wouldn’t spend more time than he had to on her case.

 

So now she was being led underground by a jailer and his clueless trainee, down past the slight crimes such as drunkenness and minor thievery and to the middle tier.

 

“You should be glad that this city is on the frontier. Anywhere else and you woulda been put in the stocks.” The jailer said, slurring his words together slightly. “Course, maybe a whore like you’da liked that.”

 

He was a very rough-looking man, and not necessarily in a good way. With an unkempt beard and stained set of clothes, he could have been mistaken for one of the prisoners at a glance if it wasn’t for a sizable girth to his frame that said he ate much better than one. He carried the chain attached to Kalia’s manacles.

 

Kalia didn’t respond to the man, who seemed to be trying to solicit a reaction out of her. Instead, she patiently took note of her surroundings as she was led onwards. According to the shadow, a month without taking in any new spirit would turn her into a mindless, raging beast. Even though the heat that came from her unborn child seemed to soothe her, Kalia was still afraid that it might not be enough after a while.

 

“I still think keeping all the sex criminals in the same area is a bad idea…” the jailer's apprentice chimed in, apparently not for the first time about the subject. “I feel bad about leaving this lady with the rapists and deviants.”

 

The apprentice was a very meek looking man. While the jailer looked rather out of place on the good side of the jail bars, this man looked like he didn’t belong anywhere near a prison whatsoever. He was short, thin, and looked like he was five minutes away from falling asleep at any given moment. He carried with him a torch that seemed to be the only source of light anywhere in the Cave.

 

“Would you shut up about this already, brat?! Y’already know we don’t keep male and female prisoners next to each other. The worst they could do is call her names.” The jailer said. “And don’t forget that she’s a prisoner too. You ever consider that maybe she deserves to feel a tad bit ashamed?”

 

The young jailer looked to his feet, clearly not wanting to engage his ornery teacher in argument. Something on his face told Kalia that he tried it before, and it hadn’t gone well.

 

“This really isn’t the job for y-mmpfff!” Kalia began, swiftly silenced by the older jailer’s calloused hand over her mouth. 

 

“Really should have gagged this one like they had said, shouldn’t we?” The jailer said rhetorically, probably wanting nothing less than total confirmation from his junior.

Still, it looked like he was expecting him to respond anyways.

 

“Would that really be necessary sir? So far she’s been a whole lot quieter than Captain Torric said she’d be.” The junior said. “Actually quite pleasant as far as the usual sort we deal with.”

 

The jailer looked to his apprentice now with a more disgruntled attitude. He held onto a bit of disappointment that seemed out of place on his assuredly uncaring face.

 

“Oh, I see it now, boy. You just think she’s pretty, don’t you?” The jailer said. “We get in a nice face on a decent body and all of a sudden you don’t want to be doing this job anymore.”

 

The jailer was actually quite strong despite his age, perhaps due to a physical strength related gift. Kalia could tell that resisting at this point was pointless, and that his firm grip on her arm had surely led far more aggressive folk down this corridor just as easily. Either way, the strength she felt in her veins more suited to dodging and striking than raw, brutish force.

 

With his hand still over her mouth then, she could only let out a muffled yelp of surprise when the jailer sped up and swung Kalia around to face one of the many cells that they were passing.

 

Out of the gloom and from between the bars, a pair of arms swiftly shot out towards her. Quickly the jailer pulled Kalia back slightly, but not fast enough to avoid them completely, and she felt cold fingertips and long nails of what could only be a rapist brush against her. They clawed around a bit more in an effort to try and find a grip around something, but she was at a distance where only brief touches could be obtained.

 

As the apprentice caught up to the two of them, his torch illuminated the face which owned these horrid arms, a gaunt and sunken one that most likely hadn’t seen the sun in years, perhaps decades. Kalia didn’t know whether to feel disgusted by his touch or glad that he had seen a fitting punishment. A part of her even felt a little bit sorry.

 

“Take it from this my ugly mug, boy. Beauty don’t last. I was even quite the looker myself at your age.” The jailer continued, still holding Kalia towards the cell. “If I let her go, your willie would recede so far into ya’ that you’d become a lady yourself.”

 

As the jailed rapist continued to try and reach for Kalia, she saw the arm of the apprentice reach outwards as well. Instead of at her though, he reached towards the lanky arms of the captive rapist; finding purchase upon them in much the same way the jailer was holding her.

 

As soon as he did, the rapist fell to the floor limp; slumped against the bars like a doll a child had tossed across the room. Kalia doubted that he was dead, but couldn’t tell what alternative was the truth. Asleep or knocked out though, she could tell now why the young man was employed in such a place.

 

“If you want‘cherself a woman, I suggest you find someone you can agree with. That way you can still stand her presence once the both of you have aged to the point ‘a lookin like freshly sheared sheep.” The jailer finished his speech, pulling Kalia back to how he was leading her before. “This one on the other hand, has had more hands on her than you’ve shook in your entire lifetime. I can’t imagine any man aggrein’ to that for very long.”

 

While the warden’s words were most likely intended as a shot at her as well as a lecture to his student, Kalia wasn’t especially disturbed by them. At least, not in the way that he probably hoped she’d be. 

Until recently, the concept of holding onto any relationship for the long term couldn’t be entertained; and while she had thought about it for a brief moment before she had known the true extent of what she had gotten into, it was looking now like she still couldn’t.

 

It did make her think though. 

Would she have settled out of her teenage wildness if it weren’t for her gift? Was her promiscuity a part of her identity, or was it something that merely developed because she knew that every direction to steer her life in had the same ending?

Did she not bother to change a lifestyle that she knew was unhealthy because she knew it wouldn’t matter? Or was it something she’d do regardless of her fate, as a woman who probably deserved some sort of punishment.

 

No no, that was the church talking. Everyone dies sooner or later. Who cares what she’s doing as long as she’s enjoying it.

Kalia gulped.

And that no one gets hurt.

 

She couldn’t tell if it was her imagination, but her teeth still felt sharp. Sort of. They felt the same when she ran her tongue over them, but there was a new feeling there as well. A kind of weight. Like there was something she was supposed to be doing with them, but wasn’t.

She didn’t care to entertain the thought any further.

 

A jingle followed by a clatter brought Kalia back to her senses as the door to an empty cell flew open, and before she knew it she had been pushed inside, falling awkwardly to her knees. 

 

She pushed herself up to her feet again and turned to see the cell shut with a crash, quickly latched and locked by a set of hands who must have done the act thousands of times before.

 

Kalia looked around.

There was a figure curled up in rags in the cell to her left, and no one in the one to her right. 

Both warden and apprentice were before her, the elder with a look of apathy, and the junior with a look of worry.

Further down each direction she could see the silhouettes of other prisoners, one of whom was the grabby rapist; still collapsed in a heap a few cells down.

And behind the jailers, in the cell opposite to hers, was a man with a very striking mustache. 

 

“Alright then. Cell 245. Remember that for the paperwork this time, ya hear?” The warden barked at the boy.

 

“Yes sir.” The junior replied rather half-heartedly, the two of them beginning to leave, but with him looking over his shoulder a few times at her.

 

With them, the only source of light in the winding dungeon left as well, leaving Kalia and who-knows-who else in a dark that surpassed the most cloudy night.

 

This was why Kalia had heard about the cave before. Its sheer and complete darkness was famous for driving people mad. Who knows, maybe the rapist wasn’t even a rapist, and was only crazy from staying down here for too long.

 

It did, after all, almost seem brighter with her eyes closed.

…

Chalet was not the word to describe what Codrin was seeing, not at this point in time.

15 or 20 years ago perhaps it would have been, but there had been so many additions both to and around the central building since then that an entirely new term was needed.

 

It wasn’t a cabin in the woods.

It was a mountain fortress.

 

His conversations with the young Thomas had indeed touched on the matter of the Syer's residence a couple of times, and he had said that she had been making regular additions to her estate. To him, it had seemed normal. Syers, while governors, were not immune to the spectacle that came with their great gifts. Folks high and low seemed keen to treat them often not dissimilarly to circus fortune-tellers, the balance between awe and skepticism simply skewed a little.

 

It was easy to tell the two apart of course, as it was quite unthinkable that a real oracle wouldn’t be successful in life. But that in turn just exasperated their problems to the nth degree.

More than just an ordinary noble, people were drawn to Syers in flocks. They weren't just rich and they weren’t just powerful, they also knew the bloody future. Who wouldn’t try to get close to one?

 

So of course Syer Dona had to have guards. Of course Syer Dona would have a secure home. Of course Syer Dona, or any Syer for that matter, wouldn’t enjoy going out in public.

 

But this level of sheer seclusion, fortification, and self-sufficiency was not something Codrin had ever seen before on such an oddly small scale as this. It would have been easily visible from New Ettene below if it hadn’t been built on the opposite side of the mountain.

 

It wasn’t a village.

It was a kingdom in miniature.

 

“How have you kept something like this secret? All of you, I mean?” Codrin said, bewildered and further clarifying by venturing out to the dozens of visible people.

 

Thomas was confused.

 

“Secret? Nothing about this is secret.” He said. “Nothing about this is any more private that the rest of Lady Dona’s life.”

 

The wagon reached the front gates after a while of passing fields, mills, and orchards. It was closed, so Thomas stepped out of the wagon to approach a small guardhouse that formed one side of it; which was new by the looks of it. 

 

“Well, I’ve never heard a single whisper of this. And I spend most of my downtime around taverns!” Codrin said, jumping down from the carriage as well.

 

“Beats me. If I had to guess though, I’d say that people leaving here happens pretty infrequently since Lady Dona pays so well. Ex-workers don’t chat about their old surly boss when that boss is neither surly nor their employment ex.” Thomas said. “Or it could be a little bit of that Syer magic at work.”

 

“She knows enough to do that?” Codrin exclaimed, a little terrified.

 

“Who knows?” Thomas said. “The specifics of a Syer’s gift is always a closely guarded secret.”

 

Thomas opened the door to the guard posting and the smell of hot food wafted out. A fire crackled in a fireplace in the corner of the room, and at a table three guards were sharing a roast chicken. They all seemed to be relatively young.

 

“Isn’t at least one of you supposed to be watching the road?” Thomas spoke, all three faces turning to meet his gaze.

 

The guards looked at him blankly, all three with mouths still full.

 

“Yea but, it’s chicken night.” One of them uttered after had swallowed most of what he was eating.

 

“But… Your job is to keep an eye out for people approaching from the road. You have to do that, even if it’s dinner time.” Thomas said, perplexed at the confusion of the guards.

 

“But it’s chicken night.” One said again as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you not like chicken, Tom?”

 

“Yes, I like chicken, but-”

 

“Well we aren’t going to give you any of ours!” One of the other guards chimed in, interrupting him and causing all three men to laugh.

 

“Forget it.” Thomas groaned. “Anyways, this is Codrin. He has my permission to be here.

 

The guards took a cursory glance at Codrin, who was peering in through the doorway. One of them gave a thumbs up and then went back to their chicken.

 

Thomas grabbed a key off a hook in the guardhouse and unlocked the gate, then immediately returned it and bid the guards goodbye.

 

“That seems a little… Bad?” Codrin commented once they were on their way again. “They don't really match all these fortifications.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. There are people with sensory gifts here, and long range ones at that.” Thomas said, brushing him off. “Lady Dona’s personal guards are the skilled ones. Those were just trainees.”

 

Past the walls now, the wagon trundled into the inner circle of the Syer’s lands. Codrin paid close attention to each building that passed by.

 

There was a baker’s, a butcher’s, a tailor’s, a smith’s. There was a stable full of horses and a pen full of chickens. There was even a tavern, smoke pouring from its chimney and laughter coming through its shutters.

 

This wasn’t just the estate of a noble.

It was an entirely self-sufficient community.

 

“Everything looks so new here…” Codrin muttered, half to himself.

 

“Yea, there’s been a lot of work going on. A couple of these buildings are new to me too.” Thomas said.

 

Codrin closed his eyes, focusing in on his first gift. 

There were dozens of people in the tavern, and many more that were too far away to single out.  If he had to guess, he’d put the population of this place around 150.

 

And yet it had the infrastructure for many more.

 

While many people treated Syers with a great degree of both awe and greed, others were also known to respond with discomfort. It was a sort of paranoia derived from not knowing the future when others did, and it was made worse because even Syers could be victims of misinterpretation.

 

Right now, Codrin felt like he was in the second party. All of this felt like preparation, and it drove him mad not knowing what for.

 

War was the first thing that came to mind, although it didn’t necessarily have to be one nearby. Something as simple as an oncoming halt in trade might have driven the Syer to become more self-sufficient. Their fortifications were worrying, but every place needed them, and he had heard that Syers were a cautious bunch.

 

Perhaps it wasn’t even something bad to begin with. His sister always said he was quite the worrywart. A well guarded mountain outpost like this would make perfect sense if the Syer had somehow detected that there was a deposit of gold nearby.

 

That might explain why the Syer had been so secretive about the whole ordeal as well. Many people came to the frontier to seek riches, but few actually found them. Rumors of gold would only serve to multiply the numbers drawn to the Syer.

 

As the wagon pulled up nearby to the Chalet proper, Codrin cracked his neck. As much as travel relieved him from the stress of being near many others, it was still straining in other ways.

This main building was admittedly a lot more in line with his expectation, and while it was still quite large, it had clearly been built quite a while before all the new construction had started.

 

“Alright, my workshop is in that building over there.” Thomas said, dismounting the wagon and pointing to the closest other structure to the chalet. “Let’s get the crate in there right away, then we’ll go eat.”

 

“Sure, no problem.” Codrin replied, hopping down from the carriage as well.

 

The crate wasn’t immensely heavy, but the contents were fragile, and the two men lifted it with caution.

 

“You said these were just various old artifacts, right? What are you going to do with them?” Codrin asked once they weren:t at great risk of dropping it.

 

“Well, lady Dona has to get a look at them first, of course. It was her money that I bought them with. I’m sure a few will end up in her personal collection, and I’ll also be dismantling those with high-purity inkstone to retrieve it.” Thomas explained.

“Past that though, many of them will be mine to tinker with. I’m only an amateur wright currently, but eventually I’d like to get good enough to found my own college.”

 

“Wow. Those are some big dreams.” Codrin chuckled. “You’d be one of- uh… How many Colleges are there?”

 

“Five I think.” Thomas replied after a moment. “No wait, six. And there’s a few edge-cases. None on the frontier though, so I’m aiming to be the first.”

 

“And the ambition only grows. I didn’t take you for the type, Tom.” Codrin said. “For teaching, that is. I’d imagine you being more personally curious.”

 

The two had now rounded the building, Thomas guiding them towards a large set of double-doors, on which Codrin noticed a rather bulky latch. He began to set the crate down so that one of them could open the doors, but Thomas stopped him.

 

“Watch this.” He said, bumping one of his elbows against the latch. As soon as they touched, Codrin heard a clack and the latch fell open by gravity. He looked at it more closely, but it wasn’t mechanical. Other than the latching part itself, it had no moving parts.

 

Codrin was impressed for a few moments, but the feeling quickly fated as he realized how pointless such a device was. It seemed magical, but he highly doubted that it needed to be.

 

“Isn’t Inkstone really expensive? It seems like a bit of a waste to use it for a door latch.” He commented as Thomas pushed the door open with his back.

 

“Aw, it’s only in the first phase. I’ve still to set more complex activation triggers. I was thinking of clapping or a voice command to open it.” Thomas said. “It’s just practice, and I can always take it apart again later if I need the Ink.”

 

Thomas’s workshop was exactly how Codrin had pictured it. Disorganized but not incredibly messy, he still guessed that Thomas rarely was unable to find something that he wanted from the large selection of wright’s tools both hung on the walls and strewn about. 

Chisels of every size and shape, glass pens, vials of reagents, and many more things that Codrin couldn’t name were among them; supported by an equally large collection of books. Codrin could tell that this room was the nearest place to paradise for the young scholar.

 

“On the big table, please.” Thomas said, cocking his head over to one side of the room where there was indeed a big table. 

 

After setting it down and peeking inside briefly to make sure that nothing was damaged, they exited the workshop and headed to the chalet itself.

Rather than the Syers personal residence, it seemed to serve more as a town hall, with a welcoming set of doors set in a frame made from a single large tree stump.

 

Through this door appeared to be a banquet hall with a few long tables laid out, one having a mostly empty layout of food and the others holding the last of a few slow eaters and those still in conversation. Since Codrin had seen a busy tavern earlier, he guessed that this hall was more intended to serve those who knew the Syer personally.

 

As he walked inside, a few pairs of eyes made contact with Codrin’s. He could hear their caution with his gift, but the presence of Thomas beside him seemed to stop them from saying anything. They were guards, and competent ones at that. The fact that someone as young as Thomas could bring a total stranger past them this far into the Syer's domain made him look at the scholar with a new degree of curiosity.

 

“The Syer is in her study.” One of them stated.

 

Thomas quickly thanked him before turning to Codrin.

“We should probably go tell her that we’ve arrived before we eat. Also that you’re here.”

 

“Are you sure she doesn’t already know?” Codrin chuckled.

 

Thomas shrugged. 

“She might, but I’d say it’s still best to be polite. I very much doubt that she’s omniscient.”

 

“Alrighty.” Codrin replied. “Lead the way.”

 

For someone as rich as the Syer of Becking, her residence wasn’t as lavishly decorated as Codrin would have thought. There was the occasional painting here and there, but the whole place seemed to be, for lack of a better term, cozy.

 

Codrin wasn’t one for idolatry, and while it wasn't to the extent of his sister he didn’t much care for the whims of wealthy folk. Him coming up here to meet Syer Dona had started as just a lucky business opportunity, but he was already starting to gain a rather good impression of her.

 

He could hear the Syer with his gift before he could see her, relaxing relatively peacefully in a state of contentment. Thoughts quietly bubbled in her mind in line with someone reading or writing, which would make sense for someone in their study

 

Turning a corner and entering a room better described as a library, Codrin finally laid his eyes on one of the most influential people on the northern frontier.

Lady Dona was a small woman, middle aged and beginning to go gray. Her face was slightly wrinkled, but still soft, and she was entirely focused on a letter she was writing. With tired eyes and hair in a knot, she gave Codrin the impression of a woman who had recently become a grandmother and had her hands full managing her family.

 

“Lady Dona!” Thomas said, alerting the woman whose face shot up to meet them

 

Immediately Codrin detected a change in her mood. Surprise at first, then a moment of panic and fear. Finally, it settled a bit into what must have been a great degree of worry.

 

“Oh Thomas, it’s good to see that you’re back!” She exclaimed, her voice holding absolutely none of the emotions that Codrin sensed. “And who might this be?”

 

The Syer's watchful eyes seemed to peer into Codrin like those of an owl, and he quickly came upon a realization. 

Lady Dona held barely a single inquisitive thought in her mind, entirely unlike anyone who had just asked a genuine question.

Codrin knew that that could mean only one thing: the Syer already knew who he was.