Mark of the Fool
Chapter 692: Kymiland from the Sky

Flocks of birds startled, scattering to the four winds as four figures materialised in the sky beside them.

A hulking wizard was first to appear.

He was soon followed by a lean huntress beside a fearsome cerberus, as big as a workhorse and sheathed in bone armour.

A four-armed iron golem wielding a massive war-spear towered over the trio.

They floated in mid-air—held aloft by flight magic—in a blue cloudless sky, with the sun high above them.

And below…?

“Oh, by the Traveller!” Theresa cried, staring down at Generasi with bulging eyes. “It looks so small!”

“It does…!” Claygon agreed. “I cannot…even see…the buildings…from here…everything looks so tiny! Even…the sea…!”

Below, the great city seemed more like a spreading grey splotch surrounded by green patches of countryside and the blue Prinean Sea. To the south, the sand-blasted Barrens stretched out, while to the north, east, and west, the endless sea lay, dotted by barely perceptible islands.

“Welcome to an absolutely divine view,” Alex said. “We’re over thirty thousand feet in the air, and according to my calculations, we can see about two hundred and twenty five miles from this height.”

“Wow, how incredible,” Theresa murmured. “The world seems so small.”

“Hah, you think this is impressive? Remember how it took us about a week to travel from Maussar to Generasi? Watch this.” Alex grinned.

Touching his companions, he drew on the power of the Traveller—allowing it to flood his body—then teleporting over a hundred miles north. Briefly, the Prinean surrounded them on all sides, and just as quickly, it was gone as they teleported away.

Alex paused, nodding toward the north. “See there?” he pointed. “That’s Maussar.”

In three heartbeats, they had travelled across the sea. The southern shore of the continent spread before them from horizon to horizon—green, dotted with white—with a splotch of grey in its centre.

“That’s Mausarr?” Theresa said. “But we just…we were only…”

Alex smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Hey, I said I’d take you to see the world, right? Think of this as a preview of the real thing to come. Now, hang on to me everyone. It’s just under ten jumps to Tursinki, unless I get lost, that is. Which I hope doesn’t happen.”

Theresa, Claygon and Brutus reached out—the cerberus clamped down on Alex’s cloak—and they vanished from above the sea, crossing vast swatches of the Rhinean Empire a hundred miles at a time—maintaining a constant altitude.

Lakes became ponds, rivers seemed like trickling streams below them.

Cities resembled grey dots from above, while the Empire’s immense forests looked like mounds of grass. Only the majestic Peaks of the Elements—one burning, one stony and studded with gem deposits, one covered with waterfalls, and the last floating above the earth—were significant from such lofty heights.

The Four Elements remained impressive, no matter where they were viewed from, even thousands of feet in the air.

“They’re spectacular!” Theresa said.

“They…are…” Claygon agreed. “They…must…be…immense…”

“That they are,” Alex said. “But, Mount Tisarios in the Irtyshenan Empire is even bigger than the four elemental peaks. We might even get to see it…from a distance. But, since the Irtyshenan gods live on it, I don’t think we should risk getting too close and catching their eye.”

“Makes sense to me,” Theresa agreed. “I don't think we want anything to do with gods right now.”

“Yes…” Claygon echoed. “I look…forward to…Kymiland…”

“Well, we’ll be there soon,” Alex said.

He teleported again, taking his companions above land, forests, fields and mountain ranges. From time to time he paused, consulting his map, noting landmarks that would help him keep his bearings in their journey north.

As they teleported, the land changed, leaving greenery behind and turning white. Late autumn snows had fallen, now clinging to mountains, valleys and great swaths of the northern wilderness. The air grew colder the further north they went, and Alex felt its bite even through his warming spell. The wind whipped at their bodies, increasing in force.

The young wizard slowed teleporting, pausing often, checking his bearings as they passed through the northernmost reaches of the Rhinean Empire. He changed course, avoiding gathering black storm clouds—and passing beyond its borders.

In the span of seconds, they’d whisked past a half dozen minor kingdoms that crowded together, gnawing at each other for land. Soon, even those were behind them. In a blink, all signs of civilization—towns, keeps and cities—disappeared from the landscape, leaving only an unbroken wilderness for miles in every direction.

And finally…

“Look at that forest!” Theresa gasped. “It seems to go on forever!”

A woodland, covered in newly fallen snow, and stretching farther than the eye could see, spread out before them. From horizon to horizon, an endless sea of trees, only broken by the occasional meadow or field, seemed to go on for miles.

The air was cold and unforgiving, the wind sharp, roaring in Alex’s ears.

A single glance at the lands below told of their harsh nature, but—from the claw-shaped lake down there—Alex knew they had reached their destination.

“Here we are. We’re now at the southern boundariesof Kymiland,” he announced. “It’s where that Hunter was spotted, probably searching for Kelda.”

They’d arrived at their first lead.

But how good of a lead was it? All they had was a three centuries old biased, unverified, account to go on.

“Where do we begin?” Theresa asked.

“There are communities of elves in Kymiland,” Alex said. “And firbolgs, or giants as they’re also known, who came from Thameland thousands of years ago; they’re long-lived races. If we could find someone who was around at the time that Hunter was here, we might get some help with where to begin.”

“That…seems like a good idea father…” Claygon said.

“So do we go right to the forest, then? And start looking for elves?” Theresa asked.

“We’ll probably have a better chance with the firbolgs,” Alex said. “Since they're originally from Thameland, they might be more open to talking to us than the elves are. Either way, we’ll have to stop in Turksini to get the lead we need on where to begin looking.”

“That makes sense,” Theresa said. “You think they’ll talk to us, us being outsiders and all?”

“It’s a port town,” Alex said. “I think it’s worth the risk. But if things get bad, we can teleport away. So, let’s make sure everyone stays close together, okay?”

“Yes…father…” his golem said.

With that, Alex teleported over the forests of Kymiland, using the map and landmarks below them as a guide. He dropped altitude as they went, gaining a better view of the ground.

From there, he began calculating their exact location, moving closer to Turksini. But as they drifted nearer to the treetops…

“I smell blood on the wind. There’ve been battles here recently,” Theresa drew her swords, her nostrils flaring.

“Maybe…monsters?” Claygon suggested.

“I’m not so sure, Claygon,” Theresa said. “I’m not sure.”

They soon hovered about a thousand feet above the forest when the sounds of metal claws raking flesh, eliciting screams of agony, reached them.

“What in the world's that?” Alex asked.

“Whatever it is, it’s coming from the north.” Theresa frowned.

“I’ll put invisibility magic on us, then we can get closer without being seen,” he said.

Casting invisibility, Alex teleported closer to the sounds. In a few jumps, they found the fight.

Within a clearing—two groups clashed in a struggle of blood, metal and death.

The first group appeared to be human barbarians. Most were fur clad, and wielded two-handed axes and swords while screaming battlecries. They weren’t very remarkable in appearance, no more so than any wild bandit living among the trees…except for one feature.

‘Marks,’ Alex thought, quickly swallowing a potion of sight enhancement. His eyes honed in on symbols on the barbarians’ bodies that burned with red light. ‘No, not Marks. Runes.’

On the skin of each barbarian at least one crimson rune burned like firelight.

Some wore two.

Some three.

Each burned brightly, either on exposed skin, or glowing through thick furs. The barbarians fought their opponents with the berserk frenzy of demons, clashing against them with powerful swings and hurled curses.

Behind the barbarian lines sat a figure who must have been the leader.

A menacing individual in pitch-black armour, sat astride a mount that appeared more demon than horse. From the man’s size, he would have towered above even Thundar or Baelin; in his armour, he must have weighed at least half a ton. The sword hanging from his back looked capable of splitting a mature tree trunk in two.

His body was covered in crimson runes that blazed through black armour, burning brighter than those of his subordinates.

“His runes look like tally marks,” Theresa whispered. “Like how a hunter would tally kills…on their body. What do you think, Alex?”

“The rune-marked are chosen warriors of a god, a bit like us Heroes,” Alex said, recalling Baelin’s explanation. “Red runes appear on their skin, telling of their deeds in battle. Each runegrants them power.”

“From which god?” Theresa asked.

“No one knows for sure,” Alex said. “Or at least, no one who’s written books about them back in Generasi knew for sure. All I know, is that the runes grant each of them greater strength, or new powers, as long as they keep killing. The Empire’s been fighting rune-marked warriors for…well no one really knows exactly how long.”

Theresa blew out a breath. “These rune-marked sound similar to Thameland’s Ravener.”

‘I am…wondering if many places in the world…have their own Ravener…’ Claygon said. ‘And the people…these rune-marked are fighting…are they from the Empire?’

“Yeah, judging from those suits of armour…they would be.”

Alex watched as the rune-marked’s opponents took on their assault like a rocky shore withstanding the tide. Heavily armoured warriors formed a shield wall, and behind them were soldiers with short bows and lances. The front line was taking on the barbarians' assault, while the back line attacked with pole arms and bows.

Behind them, three towering figures fought another force of barbarians assailing the Irtyshenans’ flanks.

The trio resembled steel golems, their bodies looked to be covered in fine armour trimmed with gilded edges and detailed silver lines. They were taller than Claygon—and even broader—and fought with the skill and speed of veteran warriors.

Upon their helmets were broad flanges, flaring out like wide brimmed conical hats, forged entirely of steel; Alex guessed the sections were meant to block volleys of arrows coming from above. Metal hands gripped thick hafted maces and swords that crushed and cut down barbarians with every swing.

Alex watched a rune-marked warrior chanting a spell. Her rune flared, a tongue of crimson lightning launched from her sword, striking the golem-armour. The magic bled away like water sliding off an oiled cloak, leaving the armour unblemished. An instant later, the golem-warrior’s foot shot out, crushing the barbarian with a well-aimed kick.

“Father…” Claygon asked. “What are they…?”

Alex remembered a conversation with Professor Jules. She’d described an old way of crafting golems—by binding trapped elementals in their forms—which left a golem that was—

“—highly resistant to magic,” she’d explained.

Alex had paused. “Pardon?”

“You see, a binding circle’s purpose is to form a barrier so that a creature caught within cannot exit nor use its magic outside,” she’d said. “When it was inside a golem’s body, it was not so much a ‘circle’ as it was a binding ‘knot’. The elemental then completely filled that knot, raging within its prison.”

She’d paused, adding water to a nearby beaker until it was filled to the brim. “Take this cup, for example. It is filled with water, isn’t it?”

“That’s right…though there could be contaminants in there besides water, since that isn’t distilled water,” he’d said. “Plus with the ambient mana around, there’s going to be mana in there too. We can’t know for sure what’s in there unless we test it, but for the sake of your question, I think we can say that it is.”

Alex remembered seeing a smile reach Jules’ eyes through her mask. “Good, Mr. Roth, I am pleased to see you were paying attention during my class. And indeed, for our argument, it is completely filled with water. So, to add anything else to the beaker, you would need to displace some of the water. Well, an elemental filling one of these golems was like the water in this glass: shoving away any magic that tried to touch the circle.”

“So those golems have enslaved elementals in them?” Theresa asked.

“No, they have people in them,” Alex warned. “That’s why they move so well. We’ve just seen three Irtyshenan Knights who use golem armour…and there could be even more. Something’s going on.”