Mark of the Fool
Chapter 710: Sorkovo

“Hmmmmm, making the kind of ward you’re talking about would be a tricky proposition,” Professor Jules narrowed her eyes, tapping her desk in thought. “You’d need it to specifically drive away three separate groups—each group being tied together by blood, faith, magic or professional association—yet allow animals like deer to enter. You also need it to cover a wide area.”

She blew out a breath. “In some ways, that’s even more complex than the ward we built around the Research Castle after the petrifier attack. At least this particular one won’t have to shield against threats looking to come from below, but still…”

“How long do you think it’d take to build if we were working together?” Alex asked.

“What’s your timetable?”

“About…uh…a day and a half?” Alex said gingerly.

Professor Jules gave him a withering look. “Mr. Roth…wards of that level of complexity are not made in a ‘day and a half’ by a dabbler—like me—and an amateur like you, even if you could develop expertise within a matter of days thanks to thatcheating Mark of yours. You’ll need an expert.”

“Can I hire one?” Alex asked, ignoring her facetious ‘cheating’ comment.

She raised an eyebrow. “Technically yes, though their services don’t come cheap.”

“That’s not a problem.”

She paused. “Really? Are we bragging about our wealth now, Mr. Roth?”

“What? No, no, no!” the young wizard shook his head, rapidly waving his hands in front of him. “No, it’s not that. I mean, I’m already hiring a teleporter to bring Theresa’s family from the Rhinean Empire. It’s just too bad I won’t have time to meet up with them; Theresa’s going to go get them with the teleporter and bring them to Generasi. I’ll be busy; there’s a lot to do in the next couple of days and not a lot of time to do it. Anyway—as I was saying—I’m already going to be hiring a very expensive wizard, so what I meant was that I’m used to the idea. I’m not bragging about my wealth or anything.”

“So, you just did a lot of fast talking—rambling on, maybe even outright prattling—as it were, to tell me you’re not bragging about your wealth…by telling me that you’re hiring two very expensive wizards.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I, well, just so you know…the thing about that is…” Alex mumbled desperately.

“I’m joking with you, Mr. Roth.” Professor Jules shook her head. “No need to be nervous, I know what you’re about. In any case, bringing Ms. Lu’s family here is very smart; they would be vulnerable by themselves in the Rhinean Empire.”

“Exactly,” Alex said. “At the same time, I’ll have the wizard I hire to ward Birger’s lands craft a similar ward over our home. Generasi’s better defended than the area where the Thameish are located in the Rhinean Empire, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

“I’d say you’re being very wise. I can introduce you to some trustworthy experts for both your teleportation needs and for creating your wards, though you’ll probably find that the councillors of Generasi would know experts with more superior skills than I would.”

“Yeah, but I trust your judgement more than I trust theirs,” Alex said sincerely.

“Ugh, you and your sweet talking, Mr. Roth…” Professor Jules rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “That’s one reason why I let you have so much leeway. What’s wrong with me? Alright, I’ll find the right experts for you…” She paused. “So you’re about to go to the capital of the Irtyshenan Empire, is that right?”

“That’s the plan, within the next couple of days, I’ll be going there with Theresa, Brutus, Claygon and our two new firbolg friends.”

“I see. You must be careful there. It’s a pit of snakes, from what I’ve heard from some of my former Irtyshenan colleagues; the imperial court mimics the dynamic of their pantheon, and the Iryshenan gods regularly slip knives into each other’s backs, in the figurative sense. The bitter climate also makes life hard there; so, do be careful, Mr. Roth. And try to ensure that those you meet in your travels are trustworthy.”

“Well, that’ll be kinda difficult.”

“...why?”

“Because…I’m going to a thieves’ guild.”

“Get out, Mr. Roth.”

“Father, I can’t believe it! We’re flying! We’re actually flying!” Bjorgrund laughed over the wind. The giant’s cloak whipped about, his long black hair flying free.

“Quiet, son!” Birger hissed. “Your voice carries far, you don’t want folk knowing where we are!”

“We’re so far up it barely matters,” Alex laughed. “But maybe we should be a little quieter.”

He checked the landmarks below. “We should be getting close to the city.”

It was early morning on a windy day, and a certain young wizard was already travelling.

With him—sheathed in flight magic and wizardry that protected from icy temperatures and thin air—were Theresa, Claygon, Brutus, Bjorgrund and Birger. They flew high above frozen forests and the wastes of the Empire, passing over lakes of ice and fir trees stilled by frost.

The wilderness was vast, but at times they would come across a grand city, surrounded by high walls and even higher towers. Alex arced south, the cities and towns growing more abundant.

As did signs of this realm’s bloody nature.

In some places snow had turned from white to red—visible even from their altitude—in others, it was black and grey, swirling not with snowflakes, but ash.

War was no stranger to these lands.

Bjorgrund’s cheer faded, and he grew cautious.

Theresa pointed to the south. “Is that it?” she asked. “It’s the biggest city we’ve seen so far.”

Birger squinted. “Yes, there it is. Sorkovo in all of its glory, with the Mieszmir River running through. Behold the grey city. Behold the city in the shadow of Mount Tisarios. You might see no mountain, but the city lies in its shadow all the same.” His look turned dark. “Trust me.”

Ahead—and to the south—a vast city spread, far greater in size than even Generasi. As Alex teleported closer, he began to pick out details of the Irtyshenan capital city.

Its high, thick walls were broad enough to drive a pair of wagons atop them. At equidistant points, towers had been carved into the ramparts. All buildings beyond were a tired grey, and capped in slate or black tile. Most roofs were steep, sloped against the heavy snows that fell this far north.

The streets were orderly, yet had a winding nature that spoke of a city sprouted from villages and towns knitting together over centuries or more.

All rural features had long been erased.

Replaced, instead, by grand structures; this was now a city of temples.

Scores of them rose above their surroundings, crafted to resemble great mountain peaks, surrounded by hosts of outbuildings. Some towers were capped by domes of bronze, the only shocks of colour that Alex could find.

As the group teleported closer, there were no other hints of colour.

Grey stone structures.

Grey roads.

All was dominated by that dour shade.

Even a building they assumed to be the palace was a sea of grey, drabness only broken with peaks covered in red tile.

‘Funny,’ Alex thought. ‘That the only real colour around here are bronze and blood red.’

“Business?” the guard glowered, scrutinising the group before her.

Alex, Theresa, Brutus, Birger, and Bjorgrund stood at the foot of the vast gates. Claygon was waiting with the aeld staff just outside the city. The two firbolgs had shrunk down to the height of men.

Still, Bjorgrund’s size drew the guards’ eyes.

The gate’s sentries were a bleak lot, scars marking their faces and exposed skin, while their eyes were as hard as the grey stones at their backs. They gripped halberds, swords hanging from their waists. Their steel helms were peaked and black cloth cloaked much of their faces from the chill.

“We are here to buy diamonds, my fine friend.” Alex grinned, speaking in Low Irtyshenan. “Well, I’m here to buy diamonds, to be precise. My friends here—” he gestured to Bjorgrund, Theresa and Brutus. “—are my guards. The old man is my local guide!” He clapped Birger on the shoulder, who threw him a look of disgust. “He says the diamond market here is some of the best in the world.”

“Hm, not a good time for barbarians to come to Sorkovo,” the guard grunted, his voice flinty. “War is coming.”

“All the more reason to buy diamonds now!” Alex cried, overly enthusiastic, appearing for all to see like a brainless lump. “Irtyshenan diamonds have a clarity to them that aren’t seen elsewhere.”

“I see…a diamond merchant?” the guard asked.

“A man who looks for opportunities.” Alex smiled.

The guard looked Alex over closely, then Birger.

With a sigh, the old man leaned toward her, then waved her to the side. They moved away from the others.

The old firbolg spoke in whisper, and Alex was glad for the potion of sensory enhancement he’d swallowed earlier.

“Listen, that hulking oaf there…I met him in my village, and he asked me about diamonds as clear as water. He paid me enough for three cows if I would guide him here and through the markets.” Birger’s smile was nasty. “Brother, I have never seen a diamond in my life. But I have seen gold.”

Coin clinked.

Birger pressed a pair of polished Irtyshenan coins into the guard’s hand.

The flinty guard smiled behind her face scarf. “You run a fine scheme, my friend. I hope you get away before those barbarians find out.”

Birger winked. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

The guard clapped Birger on the shoulder. “Good work, old father. Take them for all they’re worth.”

When Birger returned, he was all smiles.

“You can pass,” the guard said. “Obey our laws and give respect to our gods at the shrine insidethe gatehouse.”

“It’s good of you, and my thanks to you! Thank you! Thank you!” Birger bowed and scraped, his voice oozing a stream of saccharine, bootlicking tones. “Come young master, your diamonds await!”

Together, the party passed into the gatehouse, pausing briefly to mutter empty words to a shrine carved in the shape of a mountain; a shrine to deities they had no interest in.

They quickly scurried into the city.

Alex’s eyes darted about, looking all around him, nostrils flaring and ears perked to the sounds of the northern realm.

Sorkovo—now that they walked its streets—resembled Generasi in a few ways, but was very different in many others. The crowds milling about were as thick and numerous as those in the city of wizards, but lacked the magic of the warm southern realm.

In all ways.

The wonders of wizardry were a constant sight on the streets of Generasi, but here there were hardly any signs of magic. Alex could feel the occasional magic item concealed on someone’s body, but there were no flying ships, carpets or beings filling the air above the streets.

There would be no sky-gondolas here to take them from place to place; the air lacked ambient mana. It was greater here than in Thameland, but still thin, paling in comparison to the thick, abundant energies rising from Generasi’s mana vents.

Most of the folk around him lacked magic: he felt no spells among the vast majority of them. Their clothing was finely cut, yet dull. Grey, black and white were the norm here, with the sea of drab only broken by the occasional shock of gold or flash of silver.

Passersby never seemed to meet one another's eyes, yet there was little sense of personal space; folk brushed by each other, pushing through crowds without hesitation.

Laughter seemed rare; though on occasion—as the group walked deeper into the city—Alex saw folk standing in doorways, having long conversations with each other. Their bodies were as animated as their words, and they touched each other frequently: clapping shoulders, grasping hands, and patting backs was common.

Alex nodded; these open mannerisms were more what he’d expected after observing the Irtyshenans in Generasi.

‘They’re friendly with folk close to them,’ he thought. ‘But they seem grim to strangers. I guess it matches their architecture, cold and grey.’

“Alex, look.” Theresa pointed at nearby windows.

The young wizard followed her gaze.

“Oh, so that’s where they are,” he whispered. “Welcome to the Irtyshenan Empire, I guess.”

The Stalker emerged from the fae gate, his moose carrying him into the shade of a frozen forest deep in the wilderness.

He rubbed his hands together. “Ho ho! Welcome, my pretty hounds!” he called to the church folk emerging behind him. “Welcome to what you mortals would call the Irtyshenan Empire.”