Episode 3 Scene 1 Sneak Peek #19

Everyone is up to something. ;)

Veyer takes the lead, strolling ahead with easy strides, their hands stuffed deeply in their pockets. On the far side of the grove, a wide, raised boulevard sweeps up the hill. Lined with cultivated cypress trees and decorative statues, the road to Diradan Tower is a grand entrance befitting royalty. The sight would be majestic on any other day, if not for the shattered citadel darkening the summit.

You keep to the ditch, hiking through half-dried mud and loose rocks. Though the climb would be easier from the road, Diradan is abandoned. Two Wayfarers and a mage ambling towards the broken tower would raise the alarm for anyone watching.

Aeran trails behind, keen to keep his distance, a hand on his bow and his eyes on the sky. The surveillance orbs Quinn mentioned must be near. You leave him to it, far more concerned with the broken tower ahead of you. Now you’re confronted by the sheer ferocity of the explosion and its aftermath, pressing questions linger in your mind. Quirinus and Umbria were both vague about the details. If the explosion occurred in the centre of the Guild’s seat of power, just did it kill? How is it that only three mages are unaccounted for? And if the shroud is as powerful as Lethalis says, how did they manage to keep it contained in the first place?

“Veyer,” you call. “How does this containment work exactly? Do you know?”

Their pace slows. “Not well,” they reply, huffing as they scramble up the incline. Their boots scuff the dirt, sending a cascade of gravel rolling down the ditch behind them. “I’m familiar with the theories, but as previously established, wards are not my area of expertise. As I understand it, Umbria and Quirinus were present in the tower when the wards broke. They crafted the initial containment together in a rare instance of collaboration, holding back the shroud while the Guild evacuated.”

You frown, brows drawing together, and hurry after them. “You’re talking as though this is new to you.”

They sigh exasperatedly. “Because it is,” they snap, grunting with exertion. The hem of their coat flips out behind them as they clamber upwards. “Diradan Tower may be the Guild’s headquarters, but not all of us call it home. I serve Lethalis, but I am an Imperial court mage first and foremost. I was in Erenvor the day of the explosion and only summoned several days afterwards—a summons that, thankfully, aligned with the emperor’s designs. I arrived in Velantis a few short days before you.”

A bead of sweat rolls down your spine. Pausing to catch your breath, you rub the back of your neck, fingers slipping against your clammy skin, and glance behind you. The sun beats down from a cloudless sky, ascending toward its zenith. You’re half-way up the hill, high enough to get a good look at Diradan’s surroundings. Compared to the numerous estates and gardens you’ve seen throughout Oriath District, the tower is strangely isolated. The closest villas must be miles away, peeking out from a skyline of elegant trees, burnished domes, and decorative rooves.

You mull over Veyer’s revelation, uncertain what to make of it. Their position as an Imperial court mage has been mentioned more than once, enough to solidify it as a point of contention between them and the rest of Lethalis. Though Velantis is an Arathian city, it is the crown jewel of its own province. Perhaps the Velantian Guild mages are not pleased to have a mage from the capital meddling in their affairs…