The Back of Beyond

[Arvælyn]

Decius shook his head, shrugging in frustration at the impediment to his Rune.

“Kin to Perseus?” Tiseus furrowed his brow, befuddled by the Draconic prince’s interpretation. “Could that thing have been Albion? They are half-brothers…”

“But how does a Sunborn elf of the Unbroken Line turn into some cave demon? Albion is a Mesmer and a Sembler, he can’t conjure portals nor alter his shape through legitimate or illusory means.” Galatea observed. The Luxian Moonborn was soft spoken and reticent and even her comrades were surprised to hear her speak up when she did.

Several sets of eyes, including Arvælyn’s, turned to Ixiondus as Finn encouraged him to brief them. The Neptori looked confused and confounded, meeting none of the eyes upon him as he wracked his brain to satisfy the command complemented, as it was, by Aværys’ own divinity.

“I… want to, but…” He lifted his hands to his head, fingers piercing the seafoam locks of his hair and he clutched his skull with frustrated fingers.

“What is wrong with me?” He gritted his teeth as he hissed in vexation through his thick Terrain accent, “There are so many gaps… so much I can’t recollect. I want to satisfy Your Lordship, but…” He sighed heavily, and focused on what he could remember.

“Our leader has had us toiling. Digging, guarding, hunting… foraging for more food than we could eat or store for long enough to nourish us. We bring it back to Castra Messor, and our leaders give us our portions and disappear into the sanctum. Only they are allowed in the sanctum. We… just know not to go in there, and we don’t. Once we dug it out, we were forbidden and now only Albion, Primus and Perseus enter. I remember… sounds. Churning, stone grinding, tapping like chisel on rock and whispers in a tongue I’ve never heard before. For all the energy it saps, there is a strange sort of power in this place and I feel it has been growing.” He shuddered.

“I don’t want to go back there.” He winced, as his face contorted with emotion. “Please… don’t make me go back. If they think me compromised, they’ll… I know not what, but I am fearful to learn!”

As the boy spoke, Arvælyn channeled his Lady’s powers of scrutiny and the orange glow of his eyes turned a spectral white.

“Fæx!” The prince hissed, “His memory has been impacted by a Fugue. If I could access my Rune, I could doubtless dismiss it, but not with this bloody null field.”

[Finn]

"Kin is a word that covers all manner of sins, doesn't it?" he asked rhetorically. But his eyes showed a flicker of unquiet as they met the burning gold of his love's. While his mind ran through an inventive list of possibilities, each more horrifying than the last, his face remained stoic, strong. He had to be the last person to fall apart or he wasn't fit to lead.

Finn smiled grimly, trying to keep Tiseus and Galatæa, and everyone really, steady.

"Let us not jump to conclusions based on fragmentary facts and conjecture. There are any number of reasons why Perseus, clearly under the thing's influence, might form a resonance with it. They aren't happy reasons, but until we know more, we had better steel our wills and put our minds to work. You are the best and the brightest of Solunarium, and you have survived worse than most might. It is always darkest before the dawn, but when dawn doesn't come, Aværys provides."

The could meditate upon the safety the Scepter had provided them over that year, though few probably knew how dire it would have been without their God's intercession.

"Peace, discipulus," he said, steadying hand still upon the Neptori's shoulder, hoping simple, protective touch might trick the deeper parts of his mind to feel safe here among his true tribe. Finn listened.

As for the limited narrative he was able to share, Finn began to consider when hysteria began to creep upon the young one and Arvælyn's next revelation. His other hand came up and he held Ixiondus hard.

"Away from the source of the enchantment, you are free. If anything is left behind, the Assessors will weed it out and make you whole again." He glanced to Raithen, to Decius. A part of him considered sending the students back with the dux or a Sentinel or two. Human calculus had been anathema to him, but now he was Solunarium, and he would bruise his own feelings if necessary but he would make the difficult decisions when required.

He might not have access to his Rune to soothe the boy's symphony, but he still had a well-trained voice and his native human empathy.

"A Fugue is serious, but not permanent. Your mind will reassert itself slowly over months, though the Assessors can safely increase the speed of your recovery. Fear not."

"Come, Ixiondus," came another voice. It was Octavian. The platinum prince put an arm around the Neptori student and led him toward the warmth of a fire and whatever other meager comforts they could offer him. Finn let go, delegating the care of the rescued one to Drævyn's boy.

"Thank you."

He used no honorific and Octavian required none. Finn could see the Pyramid still existed down here, but it was, perhaps, less steep by necessity. His gaze turned to meet Arvælyn's again, curious whether his eyes would be gold or white. It seemed as though their divine bequeathments were their only magical advantage. Finn wished they could entwine their symphonies, one's thought sounding in both minds at the same time. Certainly, they would be able to discuss the perils and the worst-case scenarios without upsetting the children that way.

But he knew Arvælyn well enough to exist without it for the time being. He felt a pang of longing for their shared bed, where he could slip under the sheets, under his wing, and slip into his dreams with him. But he did not allow himself more than a beat or two of that.

The Sentinels slipped closer, Decius tugging the dux closer, too.

Quietly, "I was not aware that Albion was capable of working a Fugue upon an unwilling subject even in the full light of the sun, let alone with the natural channels of aether disrupted. If the boy's intelligence is correct, I ought to be able to disrupt their hold on most of them by the literal grace of Deus Aværys. Albion, Primus, and Perseus will require more, I think. If the creature was Albion transformed," he made a face, "that will complicate things. If the peril is parasitic and that is why it read as kin to you," he glanced at Arvælyn, "then that might mean more bodies to combat. We don't know yet how our uniforms will hold up against magical attack since we don't have our own magic to test on them.

"So, we will have to rely upon tactics while we don't have enough intelligence, but we daren't be too bold in seeking more as they can Semble our approach. I can play Solar Paladin and lead us through their front gate while Arvælyn uses us as a distraction stalks the shadows. Our arrival may be our only chance to reconnoiter."

After a pause, "Advise me."

A quick glance to the side was enough to track the students. Two of them had gone aloft to keep watch, no doubt at Octavian's orders or their own habits of survival. Good. The rest of them had gathered around the warmth and the light, encircling their recovered compatriot.

Finn didn't envy the lad his recovery; the Assessors were deft, but some things couldn't be healed without a person's conscious contribution. The poet in him remembered swimming in Udori, deep, deep down so he could look up and see the tiny fish swimming between him and the surface, shining like platinum flechettes. It occurred to him that the students were schooling around the Neptori as fish might, granting him, perhaps, some instinctual feeling of safety in numbers.

Silver blue eyes caught his gaze and Octavian nodded grimly. He was leading, such as he could, but deferred to Finn and the imperium he carried on this mission.

"Aneurin," he said, when Finn turned back to his Sentinels, permanent and temporary, "when they break, show them on the maps where we have found relatively stable aether."

It was a limited, localized boon, but they needed whatever they could get at this point.

[Raithen]

The Avialae mostly waited to the side while the situation was sorted out. If given the chance, he would speak a few quiet words of soothing in the Neptori's native tongue, hoping that it might calm him down or jog his memories, or both.

The explanation made sense, the minds of the students were obviously being effected. A deeper respect for those students that had managed to avoid becoming thus ensnared settled into him and he gave the ragged group another looking over. There was a solidity, both to the group and to each individual. The point of the trails was said to be to allow students to prove themselves, but it seemed to Raithen that perhaps the point might be to see which were steel that would survive the forge fires and which were made of baser stuff. The ones gathered there would not have been his guesses, if he'd had to make them when viewing them altogether before the trial. The platinum, certainly, would have been, and perhaps he was the reason the others were able to withstand.

There was naught he could add of use to the plan, the other groups were entrenched, had access to both know magic and unknown that the Sentinels currently did not. It was a bad situation. Unless they chose to retreat with the students currently in their custody and return with dragonshards strong enough to pull aether from, they would not complete this mission without casualties in some form or other.

The moonborn elf walked over, quietly joining the circled Sentinels, saying,

"Forgive my intrusion, excubiae, the Prince has sent me to show you the places we have found where there is more available aether." Pulling his hand-drawn map back out, he laid it over a convenient rock outcrop and showed two spots, explaining. "No where in this dark place have we found places where the aether is at the level that we are used to, but there are two places where it is high enough to use runes reliably, though not powerfully."

Pointing to first one, and then another he explained, "There is a pool at the base of a waterfall, the water is good to drink and some light is carried into the chamber, I do not know how." He had examined the crystals and thought it might be refracted through them, but knowing the answer to that mystery was not a priority. "The second is an additional ruin, but different in architecture. It is hidden behind a very narrow passage, we had to turn sideways to get through and even so," Dark eyes darted between Raithen's wings and Arvælyn's, "I do not think all of you would be able to get through."

"If you could lure the other camps to these places, somehow, you would at least be on more even a footing, but they are beyond wary of such things." Bowing and stepping away, Aneurin left the map for them to use as needed.

[Arvælyn]

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"Apologies, My Lord." Tiseus bowed his head, eyes lowered apologetically. Galatæa nodded in acknowledgement of Finn's larger sentiment, and commited her contemplation to other more productive matters.

Ixiondus started at Finn's touch, physically recoiling at first, but quickly relaxing the tension that rose so sharply. His eyes, grey as an arctic tide, met Finn's without compunction. This boy was no bashful Tiseus, even traumatised and terrified as he currently was.

"I am more worried for my life than my missing memories." He noted grimly, and it sounded like triage with the impending threat of his former cohort looming to the East. "Please... whatever happens, do not let me be taken to the sanctum. Even if I die, I don't want my body to go there with the rest of the meat..." He furrowed his brow, eyes darting away from Finn's as he felt, suddenly, that much more vulnerable.

It was only Raithen's Nepthal consolation that drew his gaze back from the ground and, taken aback, he made a simple hand gesture that the dux would know was a way of expressing gratitude. His eyes lingered upon Raithen, as he allowed Octavian to draw him away from the sentinels toward the warmth of the fire. He sat down, casting a backward glance once more to Raithen, before allowing his attention to be diverted to his peers of Castra Confinium.

"Mm..." Arvælyn dug out the mission dossier and leafed through a few pages, before finding the write-up detailing the biographical information on the missing students. "Albion and Perseus were both categorised as Master Mesmers by the Academia, and Primus a Master Kineticist. Looks like Primus dabbles in Summoning, Albion is a Journeyman in Semblance and Perseus in Kinetics." He looked to Finn, pursing his lips with concern.

"Your power here is stark, but I sensed great rage and distress from Perseus when you exploited it. I would bide you take care and... Perhaps these dark places want for subtler forms of manipulation. I can divine the chains that bind them. Albion's pull is not gone from Lysander, but it is diminished- forged now of fear and little else. Let me worry those tethers and I may be able to make strides." He arched a brow as one of the students quit the fire and approached with a map. He glanced to Finn as the offered information was summarised. He nodded to Aneurin as he slipped away, leaving the map in their keeping.

[Finn]

Finn was not too terribly bothered at the Neptori's reaction to him. He reacted better to Raithen, who knew his tongue. If the need arose to spur him to necessary action, he would simply use another one of Aværys' gifts: metaphrase. The Neptori understood his Vastian, of course, but his words could come glowing with divine radiance to greater effect. Certainly, he had no intention of sending any of the students into the sanctum; in fact, he would be sidelining the Neptori going forward. He just couldn't risk old chains being reforged.

Even his Tethered husband agreed.

Grim, he still tried to exude confidence. He had to. The students were worn down, and he was the leader of his team.

"Thank you, Aneurin." He acknowledged the moonborn student's contribution; it was important to build these youths back up as they were clearly and understandably exhausted.

After hearing everyone's input, he nodded.

"Very well. Change of plans: we will abide here with the Castra Confinium. The Castra Messor will not, it would appear, be swayed by our presence and our imperium. Here, we have their wards and more watchful eyes. We shan't let them divide and conquer us. We will take the night so Arvælyn can meditate upon his gifts from the Dark Mother and see what insights that brings. We will augment their watch and one of us will always have an eye on the Neptori to ensure no subtle chains remain that might be pulled from afar. On the morrow, we will formulate a plan, whether that requires a trip to one of these aether fonts or not.

"I would like Decius to have the opportunity to sound the depths with his Semblance, even from a remote point. And between the two of us, we might strengthen all symphonies against intrusion even if we cannot actively fight off mesmeric attacks in the event of a confrontation."

"Are we in accord?"

It was not a rhetorical question. Everyone here present had been on at least one mission with him, and knew he would take decisive action, but also knew that he valued their input and would hear it.

[Raithen]

The plan was as good a one as they could make, even if Raithen would have rather had his Divinely touched brother and brother-in-law simply lead them in a frontal assault against whatever held the other students. His belief in the strength of his gods was such that, having seen that their gifts were still active even in that aether void place, he could not imagine that any power there below could overcome them. Returning the students alive had been their mandate, and Finn's plan was most likely to accomplish that. Ending whatever evil had warped the students so far that they were loath to stand in the Divine Light now felt, to Raithen, more important than the lives of a few promising youths, even those with such lofty bloodlines.

When the Neptori was brought up, Raithen offered to sit with him first, while he was awake. Ascertaining whether he was still magically chained to the evil that had caught him was not likely something he could do, but that information could be gathered while he slept as easily, or more easily. While he was yet wakeful, bringing him what peace could be mustered was within the dux's ability.

When granted permission, he went to sit with the students, ingratiating himself into their group as naturally as he had into a thousand similar before. They were nor mercenaries, but they were in a similar position and disposition. They were not in any court, but most of them knew how to deport themselves within one. Infiltrating a group already formed was always a matter of balancing between the different things that they were. When he was no longer being stared at as an outsider, even if he was not fully trusted as an insider, he turned his attention back to Lysander, speaking and gesturing as naturally as he was able in the language he had learned by immersion on the Neptori island. Not bringing up anything of what had occurred since the students had set out on their task, he kept the conversation light, unless Lysander led it to anything deeper. He would stay and sleep near as well, unless the plan changed.

[Arvælyn]

Arvælyn nodded his assent to Finn's new plan of action. He was relieved at the reprieve it would offer. Though it hadn't occurred to him as such until the plan was altered, the prince found that he was anxious about approaching the opposing camp. More out of concern for Finn's wellbeing than his own and heavily impacted by Perseus' response to the human's divine power. The rage that roiled forth from the slender young elf seemed pernicious, particularly coming from a true-born Solunarian who'd been fully reared in the Faith and conditioned to regard Aværys' Will as infallible. What sort of power could draw one so firmly entrenched in the pyramid away from its foremost strictures? It was on this and other such concerning matters that Arvælyn would meditate as the hours passed, and he plied his Emblem in lieu of his Runes.

Ixiondus responded quite favourably to Raithen's attention, even moreso than the other students. The young Tertian was, like Raithen, an acceptable outsider. He didn't look like a Re'hyæan or a Vastian, and he had natural skills that they lacked. He could fly through the waves as Raithen through the clouds. Moreover, when Raithen communicated in Nepthal, he would learn that Ixiondus had heard of the Vronti, though he'd never met any of their number. He observed a few peculiarities of their dialect that Raithen had picked up, though he seemed more amused by the ideosyncrasies than offended by them. He seemed to forget some of the worries that loomed large as they spoke on simpler things and he delighted in basking in the glow of Raithen's sunny features.

The night would pass without incident and, though strange bestial sounds would occasionally resonate through the caverns, the students were able to dismiss them as unnerving, albeit regular occurances in these environs, as opposed to signs presaging an assault from Castra Messor.

The following morning, Arvælyn woke early and, with the permission of the Vigil in charge and promising to cloak himself with his Domina's Divine power, took to the skies to do a bit of scouting. He returned as the others were breakfasting and dropped his Masking, seeming to appear out of thin air, rather alarmingly.

"Apologies, I thought it best to land before revealing myself. So, I was able to reach one of the æther sites. The good news is- I was able to access my Runes. The bad news is- their effects could not reach outside the radius of the anomaly. So, anything you want to Semble, anyone you want to Mesmerise? They'll need to be in that area with you, and it won't be as facile as you're used to. It will be straining and weaker than you full prowess. So, what have you lot been-..." He paused abruptly and turned to Tiseus, "I'm sorry. What is that you're roasting? It smells bloody delicious!"

"Oh! It's, um.... Well, the meat is some sort of giant centipede that cooks up nicely, but what you're smelling is probably the mushroom paste we use to season it. It's pretty bland on its own, shall I make Your Exalted Highness a plate?"

"You shall."

[Finn]

Octavian smiled wanly as Raithen approached, growing stronger as he saw how Lysander relaxed under his sunny, sunborn smile. The platinum princeps sat upon a throne of fallen stone. Aneurin used the same stone as a backrest. Octavian's hand fell to his shoulder. He found himself doing whatever little things he could to prop up his people's morale, though likely his father would expect him to expect others to remember their place on the Pyramid vis-à-vis his own as soon as he returned to the blessed light of the Luxium.

The presence of the Sentinels, however, and the royal members among them, did far more for morale than Octavian could. That was galling even as it was sweet.

When Sentinel Finn summarily ordered the discipuli to their beds and took the first watch himself, Octavian was only too glad to do as he was told. It must have been the most untroubled sleep he had slept since entering the Zonam Mysterium, but he felt almost refreshed when he awoke. He moved to the fire where Tiseus was cooking and Sentinel Finn was watching with mild interest. While on the one hand it was meet for the slave-born lad to rise early and do the cooking, Octavian had done his level best to ensure they didn't wear Tiseus down and lose him. Unfortunately, Tiseus was the giving, self-sacrificing sort.

When they got out of this, Octavian wanted to take all of them into his household. Who better to be his agents in the court and beyond than these who had suffered in the dark with him? At least the Sentinels' presence meant Tiseus had gotten a full night's sleep, most likely.

"Sentinel," he greeted. "Tiseus."

"Your Serene Highness," he greeted quietly with an earnest smile that begged Octavian to smile back.

"I feel much more serene today than I have in a long while thanks to you, Sentinel. While it is your duty, yet I thank you."

While Finn didn't react to Arvælyn's reappearance, Octavian couldn't help but startle. His nerves were tight as tripwires, but he calmed himself. He would not admit it, but having actual adults there did make him feel safer. When they got out of this and he had recovered, he would train himself harder to be stronger, the better to weather whatever else came his way. When it was clear he didn't have to throw himself bodily between Tiseus and harm, when the golden prince of the Umbrium made magic where they could make none, he remembered they were, for now, safe, and the Sentinels had a plan.

Finn took the report in stride. It had been worth a shot.

"Well," he said, laughing quietly, something Octavian hadn't heard in a long time, "once His Exalted Highness and everyone are fed, we will speak more at length about this intelligence and whether our plan requires alteration. Thank you for the exotic fare, Tiseus."

[Raithen]

When Raithen's attentions were received with pleasure, he continued them. It was no difficulty for him to maintain a conversation with Ixiondus in one language and banter lightly with the other students in another. Walking through a party, gleaning the meanings of multiple conversations the flowed between several languages for his mother while also flirting effectively with whatever lover he had been pursuing at the time had been good training. The thought made him grin, which did not seem to put the Neptori lad off, in fact...

When Finn approached to send them all to their bedrolls, the dux elected to share his with Ixiondus, who had none of his own. His wings wrapped around them for any additional warmth needed and he hummed a Vronti lullaby as they drifted. Maybe it wasn't familiar to his bedmate, but the tune made Raithen think of the sea, so maybe it didn't matter.

When the slave awoke and began to produce the sounds and scents of cooking, the Avialae's came out of his slumber stomach first, blinking blearily into the comfortable dark that his wing-bower created before he remembered where he was, and with whom. Disentangling himself gently from the exhausted student, he rose to investigate the meal. It was better to let the tortured mind rest as much as it could.

Aneurin slept almost as well as Octavian, but came awake instantly when the prince's breathing changed from the deep of sleep to the lighter of waking. Waking knowing that nothing was attacking them was quite exceptionally pleasant and the moonborn considered staying in his blankets, but everyone else was up and he hated to look weak. That he was the least useful in matters of combat was a well known fact that rankled even as he knew it to be true. It was possible, probable even, that without his knowledge of the artifacts they had discovered, they would all be in thrall to whatever held the other students, and that soothed his pride some.

As he joined those around the fire, he heard that the winged prince had discovered what he probably should have told the Sentinels the previous night, that the magic did not linger beyond the places that somehow held it. Being around the well rested, well fed group of elites was showing in sharp relief how exhausted the group of students was. It was enough to make Aneurin want to ask that they be taken out and come back to deal with the others, who were, his pessimistic mind accepted, probably all beyond more than a merciful death already. But it was not his place to do so and he wouldn't put Octavian in a position to choose between two different duties.

[Arvælyn]

Lysander seemed to welcome and, indeed, relish all of the attention and affection Raithen afforded him. Even were he not in a particularly vulnerable state, he'd never been lavished with this sort of attention from a figure as lofty as the winged Val'Aværyan. Under other circumstances, he might have been up all night with the excitement, but exhausted as he was he passed out quickly and stayed asleep long after Raithen stirred to see what Tiseus was concocting.

Tiseus looked to Finn incredulously for a moment, then cracked a grin as he looked to Octavian.

"Well, I'm glad someone finds it exotic. I think the locals have grown bored of it, but I cook with what ingredients are available."

Tertius Akhenkaure Thæros smiled slightly,

"Yes, last time we got adventurous at mealtime, Kasha painted the castra with her sick."

The statuesque Tertian Moratallen grunted with a shrug.

"Maybe so, but I could've sworn I saw Mother Midnight Herself mounting the skies and it was fucking glorious. No regrets."

"Girl, I'm not surprised, Tiseus was the one who had to clean up your collateral damage."

Arvælyn blinked a bit at the exchange, albeit amusedly, as Tiseus fixed him a plate.

"Anyway, beyond what I found at the æther site, I did notice activity over at Castra Messor. I didn't want to get too close, but it looked like they were fortifying the entryway. I wouldn't be surprised if they were boobytrapping it to alert themselves of intruders or to do harm to those who attempt incursion." He plucked up a slab of the cave bug meat with his fingers, and smiled a bit. He used to eat with his hands all the time. Utensils had just seemed like middle men slowing the path between food and belly, but now his meals tended to be so regimented and there seemed to be a particular instrument for every piece of every course. Biting a chunk of mushroom seasoned centipede, he grinned emphatically, feeling rather like a kid again. Like he was one of these young scholars. He wasn't so much older than they, but it felt like ages since he'd been a teenager ribbing his friends and eating with his fingers.

"Delicious..." He said, with a grin to a now-blushing Tiseus. But when it was time to gather and talk through their plan of action, he would speak up.

"Having had time to Unmask some of what is going on and to meditate on what I've learnt, I believe we may be dealing with relics from the ancient war between the Founders' predecessors. We don't know much about their erstwhile subjects, but based on how Perseus reacted to Sentinel Finn's Radiance, my inference is the power affecting them is loyal to the dead god Ugrimal who gave way to She of the Scourge. It may be that the students of Castra Messor have been dragged into a war that has been over for countless years by a force that doesn't realise as much. I don't know if this information is helpful... I don't even know if my interpretations are correct, but it's the best I can come up with."