”And some may say - why not? Why not let the scriptsmith’s art spread beyond the halls of the guild? I have heard and answered this question longer than most of you have been alive, ministers, and the answer is always the same - focus. Yes, there are other benefits such as consistent education and reliable scriptwork, but our primary contribution is not teaching our talented members how to script - it is teaching them why we script. Not for frivolities or amusements, but for real, measurable contributions to the welfare of Tinem Sjocel. The ill-conceived notion of spreading the art would result in more scriptsmiths, yes, but not more useful scriptsmithing - and if the talented younger generations turn their efforts to pinwheels and music boxes rather than transport and commerce, they will discover rather quickly that you cannot eat joy.

- Transcript of Vumo Ra’s address to the Ministerium, Royal Archives, Ce Raedhil.

“Scriptsmith.”

Tasja jumped at hearing a voice speak so close behind him, turning to stare wide-eyed at Jyte and Ajehet. The latter didn’t bother to conceal a smirk at Tasja’s startled face.

“Me?” Tasja asked, restraining himself from looking around. “I’m not actually a scriptsmith,” he said lamely. “I’m just a scribe. Only got my guild membership because of…”

He trailed off, gesturing vaguely around him. “You know,” he said. “All this. I didn’t really earn it like Tesu did.”

Jyte grunted, looking around at the vast quiet of the control room. The sun had set, but the lights still blazed high overhead with a cold radiance that seemed somehow brighter than day. Darkness outside had lent the windows a mirror sheen, bouncing back distorted views of the room from high overhead.

Tasja had borrowed a secluded corner of the room to do some reading. Of the documents they had found at Sjatel, the vast majority had been quickly scanned and set aside as irrelevant to the problem of the gateway. Revisiting them had yet to yield anything of immediate use, but Tasja found the assortment of mismatched snippets fascinating to browse through - until he was interrupted by a pair of soft-footed Aesvain, that is.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked.

The two Aesvain exchanged a look. “First,” Jyte rumbled, “I’ve an apology to make. We raised some blades towards you when we first met, but since then you’ve been a help. Had some trouble seeing past the color of your robe.” The captain looked Tasja in the eye, then inclined his head. “We’ve been in the wrong.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Tasja said, raising his hands. “Nothing really came of it, and you had good reasons to dislike scriptsmiths.” He gave Jyte an uncomfortable smile. “And Sjocelym. From what I’ve seen - well, it’s hard to blame you.”

Jyte nodded his head, and an awkward silence stretched out. Hushed voices carried from across the room where Jackie was showing Gusje the tablet device Maja had repaired. The two women were huddled together, their faces lit with a strange pallor from the light it emitted. Maja hovered some distance away from them, frozen once more - but there was an odd tension in the room that seemed to knot around the tablet, drawing more attention to its unnatural glare than Tasja could readily account for. It was hard to be in the room with Maja without feeling like her eyes were glued to you, but since it had been repaired Tasja had the distinct sense that she was completely and utterly focused on the tablet.

“We’ve got a question for you,” Ajehet said, jolting him from his reverie. “If you’re of a mind to answer.”

“What?” Tasja asked. “Oh, sure. I mean, I’ll try to answer.”

There was another pause in the conversation. Jyte cleared his throat. “Where are your friends from?” he asked.

Tasja blinked. “I assume you don’t mean Gusje,” he said. “Honestly, I… don’t know. They had claimed to be from Gadhun Draat at first, but admitted to Vumo that it had been a lie. I never really asked them about their home.” He shrugged, looking up at the two men with a hint of suspicion. “Why don’t you just ask them? They would tell you if you asked.”

Jyte and Ajehet exchanged another look. “We did,” Ajehet sighed. “And they answered, but their answers don’t make any sense. They’ve said they were from farther away than anyone’s ever traveled, that they’ve come here in a chariot, but then that they’ve come here through a doorway - a doorway. Then after a while they look uncomfortable and say they’ve not got the words to describe it.” He shot Tasja an exasperated look. “We’d hoped that you might have puzzled some sense out of it, given that you’ve spent time on the trail with them.”

Tasja couldn’t help but grin a bit at the other man’s perplexed look. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” he said. “They’re not shy in talking about their home, only in how they came here from there. I get the sense that it’s partly because they don’t know how to say it in our words - and partly because they don’t understand it either.”

The grin slid off his face, and he shook his head. “It sounds wonderful, though. Not so much what they’ve said, just how they talk about it. They’ll offhandedly mention something about flying through the air to the other side of the world like it was nothing. Even the tablet device isn’t particularly special for them - it’s something that any family would have in their house, like an utel.”

“That’s a hard thing to believe,” Jyte muttered. “What would a person on the street even do with something like that? It can’t plow a field or swing an axe.” He paused for a moment, looking troubled. “Can it?”

Tasja shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Probably not,” he admitted. “I’m sure they have other devices for that, and it just hasn’t come up because nobody has needed to plow a field or cut down a tree so far.”

“If you want answers out of them, it’s best to steer away from how they got here,” he advised. “Ask them other things. Ask Arjun and Jackie what their profession is, if you have some time. They’ll tell you more than they realize.”

Jyte frowned, but nodded. “I’ve got a better idea of how to approach things, I believe. Thank you.” He paused, seeming to consider his words. “It’s… difficult,” he said. “Normally you’d have a hard time trusting a man with a hidden past. Don’t misunderstand me, we owe them our lives a few times over - but everything about them is a question. It’s hard to know what’s coming next when they’re involved.”

“Sounds like a normal day from where I’m sitting,” Tasja said wryly. “You think I have any good answers? I’m just taking it one day at a time, trying to be helpful where I can. Sure, I’d like to know where they’re from, or why we never see any of these flyers they speak of in the sky overhead. I’d like to know what land has people twice as tall as me, where the days are shorter and the sky is a different shade of blue. I could probably even answer some of those questions I have, if I really wanted to.”

He turned to look Jyte in the eye. “But those wouldn’t really be answers,” he said. “At least, not helpful ones. They’re the sort of answers that just leave you with bigger, more troubling questions. So: I don’t know. I don’t really need to know. Maybe if there’s a day in the future where we’re not running or on the verge of death there will be some time to sit and think and learn. But that’s not today, and it’s probably not tomorrow.”

Ajehet gave Tasja an evaluating look. “You know, that’s uncommon wise talk from one your age,” he muttered. “They teach you all that just to be a scribe?”

Tasja chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t do much in Sjan Saal but read old books,” he said. “For all the good it did me. I’ve learned more in a span of days on the road than I ever did in the library.”

Jyte gave him a small smile at that, but before he could respond an odd noise drifted through the control room. A cluster of high, harmonic notes echoed eerily from the ceiling, followed by a deep counterpoint. They turned in puzzlement, looking back to where Jackie and Gusje sat with the tablet. Jackie looked smugly delighted while Gusje stared, bewildered.

The sound continued, rich and mellow as it alternated between high and low notes. It built in speed and volume, coming faster and faster until a thudding trio of low chords disintegrated into rumbling, melodious ripples. Gently, a slow counterpoint of an entirely different sound grew beside it.

Tasja, Ajehet and Jyte walked slowly over to the tablet, wide-eyed as the music reverberated around them, the height of the control room lending the small device a booming, orchestral voice. They were far from the only ones who noticed. Many of the elderly or young refugees had stayed in the facility, and soon a small crowd was clustered around where Jackie and Gusje sat. The audience was rapt as the music soared and stooped, rivulets of sparkling noise layering over broad, sweeping accompaniment that built to monumental peaks.

The crowd was spellbound. Tasja felt shivers through his body as he listened. His eyes were unaccountably wet, his stomach fluttering. After a short span that felt like days, the music wove its way to a sharp, emphatic conclusion and the spell broke. He looked around dazedly.

Jackie still wore her delighted smile, though she too had a sparkle of tears in her eyes. Gusje was adrift, staring forward with a shocked expression as if she had been punched in the gut.

Jyte stepped forward. “What was that?” he asked, his voice rough.

Jackie looked up at him, seeming to realize for the first time how many Aesvain were clustered around her. “Oh, uh - sorry, was that too loud?” she asked sheepishly. “Whoever had this before loaded it up with a fair bit of music, so I thought I’d show Gusje.”

There was a confused murmur from the crowd, and Jackie scratched her head. “Ah, hmm,” she said. “I’m not really sure how to explain it. The tablet can hold information, knowledge, like how we want to use it for the script in the other sanctum, right?” She looked around at blank faces - most of the Aesvain weren’t well-informed about their upcoming plans. “Well - it can, and sound is just another thing it can hold. A group of people far away, back in my home, they made that music while someone else captured the sound. Now the sound is in the tablet.”

Another uncertain silence followed before a younger voice piped up from the mass around her. “Can we hear it again?”, he asked.

Jackie blinked. “Well, sure,” she said. “But that was just the first part. There’s two more, do you want to hear the rest?”

A low rumble of assent came from the crowd, and Jackie grinned at them. “All right,” she said. “Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto number two, second movement coming right up.” The Aesvain blinked at the torrent of English nonsense as she punched her finger at the screen.

A swelling, resonant chord grew from the tablet, and the audience was once again enthralled. Tasja looked around, noting the hungry looks of the refugees and the tears on Jyte’s scarred cheek, the way the clouds of constant stress and terror seemed for a moment to lift from a people who had been harried and hounded from the ashes of their home for much longer than he had been deprived of his own.

This wouldn’t do anything to alleviate the captain’s fears, the nagging worry that the truth of their friends’ origins was a greater secret than they could fathom - but it may have opened the possibility that it was not a terrible secret, a dark secret of the sort that seemed to lurk in every shadow these days.

He noted Maja hovering slightly behind the dais. Her face was still, but as he watched he saw her head slowly nod in time with the music. Tasja reflected that troubles on his scale likely were insignificant to her, or perhaps she just had the answers he lacked. In either case, she seemed unconcerned by the looming threats darkening the horizon. She simply closed her luminous eyes and listened.

He did the same.

The day dawned sluggishly. Those who took far too little time to sleep felt the impact of their choices, blearily squinting at the burgeoning light outside. For all that the prevailing mood was fatigued, however, it was certainly not regretful. An ineffable weight seemed to have departed those who slept over in the control room, and the morning was brighter for it.

“I can’t believe I slept through that,” Mark grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Do you know how long it’s been since I heard real music?”

“It’s not like the tablet is going anywhere, I’m sure we’ll have some downtime during the survey.” Jackie said. “Besides, we mostly stuck to classical. There’s some other stuff on there that’ll probably be more up your alley.”

Mark scowled at her. “Hey, why can’t I like classical? Big dumb army dude can’t appreciate fancy music, is that it?”

“It’s not because you’re in the army,” Jackie said, mock-appalled. “I’d totally believe that Jesse was into classical.” Mark shot her an acid look, which she answered with a smile.

“Can’t get away from harmful stereotypes even in fantasy-apocalypse-land,” Mark grumbled.

“You’re so oppressed,” she agreed, tossing him one of the wrapped bricklike loaves that made up the core of Sjocelym army rations. “Here, eat up.”

Mark looked at the dense bread with distaste. “Ugh. I’m sure we had a few MREs left…”

“We do,” Jackie confirmed, “but Jesse wanted to move them to the supplies for the survey group, so they’re all packed up in the gate hall.” She reached into a pocket and pulled out a packet of instant coffee, handing it to Mark. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re a saint,” he said, clutching the packet to his chest. “Lemme get this brewed up, then we should go over the rest of the prep work.”

Jackie nodded and looked over the relatively crowded floor of the room. More of the gold-cloaks were in evidence, fully armed and armored for the first time since their arrival. The impending departure for the Aesvain sanctum had them on edge, and not just because of the potential danger involved.

From what Jyte had shared, the gold-cloaks considered Tija’s apparent demise to be squarely on their shoulders. No matter that the events in Sjatel had shown that there was little they could have done - the fact that their Sanctum had fallen while they were elsewhere rankled, and they seemed to share a keen sense of anticipation and dread at the prospect of returning.

None of that had made them less inclined to volunteer for the survey team, however - Jyte actually had to enforce a strictly-run lottery to handle all of the halberdiers who were petitioning for a spot. The majority would have to stay behind, both to help with the move to the valley and to keep watch for Sjocelym incursions on the mountain.

By the time Mark returned with his canteen of tepid, caffeinated bliss, most of the survey team had already assembled. The final stragglers were Jesse and Ajehet, who had both slept in - albeit for quite different reasons, with Ajehet’s late night leaving him decidedly worse-off. Strangely enough, Jyte seemed unaffected by the lack of sleep - or perhaps was just less expressive than his scout.

“All right,” Mark said, setting down his pack and taking a sip of his coffee. “Ugh. Let’s go through the tally. Jyte, how many of your men are you bringing?”

“Ten,” Jyte replied. “A picked eighth of men, plus Ajehet and me.”

Mark nodded. “Then me and Jesse, Gusje for access, Jackie on the tablet, Arjun for the gate.” He paused. “Tasja for funky script, not Tesu. Dude’s still a bit scattered and I don’t want to babysit him. He can help us decipher script from the pictures later if he’s feeling helpful.”

“Sixteen, then,” Jyte said approvingly. “Two eighths. A good round number.”

“Glad you think so,” Mark muttered, glancing down at his notes. “We’re packed for sixteen?”

“Aye, we’ve got enough food and water for a good while,” Ajehet confirmed. “Depending on the situation on the far side we’ve also got a chance for forage. Tija’s seat is not so high as Maja’s.” He quirked his lips, seeming to find humor in the statement. “It sits on the hills over Mosatel, in close view of the city. If the Emperor has moved on from there, we may yet find supplies that the abominations had no use for.”

“If,” Mark warned. “Remember, we have to assume the entire site is still compromised, and we can’t risk drawing attention without active warding stones. Even a token force left behind could alert the rest.”

Ajehet nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes,” he said. “We’re not so keen to see Mosatel again that we’d trade our heads for the chance.”

“We’ll be exercising prudence,” Jyte rumbled. “And discretion. As our first priority.” He raised an eyebrow slightly at Ajehet, who winced and raised his hands in acknowledgement.

“...right,” Mark said, frowning at the unspoken exchange between the two Aesvain. “So, that’s supplies. Return trip - Arjun, how are we set?”

Arjun beamed back at him and held up a thin, coppery bracket. “Good!” he said. “I managed to enlist Tesu’s help, and together we were able to make a serviceable device for transferring energy between two crystals.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up, and he took the device from Arjun’s outstretched hand. “Wow, you made this?” he asked, running his finger over the scripted letters etched onto the metal. He turned it over once, twice - then looked up at Arjun skeptically. “You sure it’s going to work?”

Arjun’s smile dropped into an annoyed scowl. “Of course it’s going to work,” he said. “We’ve already tested it out on two of the gauntlet crystals and it works admirably, although it’s not one hundred percent efficient. We’ve got enough gauntlet crystals to account for the loss, however, so we should be fine.”

“Not that I don’t trust you, doc,” Mark said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “But I don’t trust Tesu, and this little thing is pretty key to the plan.”

“I’ll be bringing my notes and some tools, so in the worst case I should be able to recreate it on-site,” Arjun reassured him. “Well - technically that’s not the worst case, I suppose, but it’s the worst I’d like to spend time contemplating.”

“On that cheery note,” Jackie said, giving Arjun an admonitory look, “I think we should be fine for power as long as we reserve at least one crystal for the tablet in addition to the one it’s using right now. They’re pretty powerful energy sources, and we’ve had the thing on for quite a while with no appreciable dimming. One for backup seems like a good idea, but we shouldn’t need more.”

“Great,” Mark said. “Ajehet, Jyte - any notes on the local area we should know?”

Jyte inclined his head fractionally towards Ajehet, who stepped forward. “Nothing of much note,” he said. “The seat is in the hills up from Mosatel, like I said, but it’s set a decent way outside of the city. Not much use for the surrounding land but grazing, given the terrain, and the area around the seat itself was given over to the Tijan Metim - the gold-cloak order sworn to protect the seat.”

The halberdiers went still as Ajehet spoke, their faces hardening into grim masks. “There was a full complement at the seat,” Jyte said. “Eight eighths of men, in a small complex built for their use outside the sealed gates.”

“Oh, so they were right up next to it?” Mark said, his voice registering surprise. “Any of you been there before?”

Jyte nodded. “All gold-cloaks go, at the end of our training. It’s where we’ve taken our oaths and received our halberds throughout all memory. Some return later, either to lead younger men in their footsteps or to take a few days in the quiet of the hills.” He cast a disparaging glance out the window. “We’d allow any Aesvain to approach the seat under a bond of peace, unlike the Sjocelym. I’ve not been for a long while, nor have any of my men, but we’ve got the land around it fresh in our minds.”

“Good stuff,” Mark said, clapping his hands together. “All right, just one person left to ask.” He turned to look at Maja, who was still standing on the dais with her eyes closed. “Gusje, you want to ask your friend if there’s anything we should know?”

Gusje cleared her throat. “Maja,” she said, managing not to flinch when the vinesavai appeared beside her noiselessly, her face composed in an expression of polite interest. “I am going to fulfill my duties at Tija’s Sanctum. Can you tell us if there are any dangers there, or any information about the state of the Sanctum?”

“Certainly, Caretaker,” Maja replied, cocking her head to the side. “The Second sector is currently suffering from extremely degraded function, so information from that area is limited. Based on the last records received, it is likely that there will be no array coverage in the area.” She paused, blinking rapidly. “There has been some limited feedback from some areas of the Sanctum, despite the damage. The immediate area around the gateway appears to have been left untouched. As with this Sanctum, it is separated from the primary systems and may not have been a target.”

“I’ll take it,” Mark said, looking her in the eye. “Thanks, Sparkles. Don’t worry, we’ll get you patched up in no time.”

Maja stared back at him, then turned to Gusje. “Is this another tool for maintenance?” she said, pointing to Mark.

Jackie clapped a hand over her mouth, her face reddening with barely-restrained mirth as Mark sputtered. Gusje looked at him in confusion, puzzled at Maja’s intent until her eyes lit upon the bulky weapon protruding from Mark’s pack. “You mean his hammer?” she asked. “Ah, yes.” She tried to inject the appropriate confidence and authority into her voice. “Yes, that is a tool for maintenance.”

Maja turned to Mark as Jackie collapsed to the floor in a fit of giggles. In an eyeblink she was standing next to him, leaning down to rest her hand on the Fragment’s stone head.

“Gah!” Mark sputtered, edging away. “Seriously, she’s doing this on purpose-”

“Quiet,” Gusje advised. “I think she’s doing you a favor.”

Tongues of fire uncoiled from her hand, following the bronze tracery that anchored the head in place. Mere seconds passed before they withdrew and Maja straightened upright, giving Mark another expressionless look. He bent down to pick up the hammer, studying it closely.

It hadn’t changed in any significant way, but on close inspection the fine gaps between the hammerhead and its metal setting had vanished, the two parts melded together seamlessly. “Huh, wow,” Mark muttered, turning it over in his hand. He looked back up at her and nodded. “Thanks again.”

Maja turned to Jesse, who stood leaning against one of the room’s massive stone pillars. Her eyes drifted down to the sword at his waist. “Is that-”

“No,” Jesse said firmly. “This is not a tool for maintenance.” He straightened up and rested his hand on the hilt, wincing lightly at the contact. Gusje shot him a questioning look, and he shook his head slowly.

“I guess not,” Gusje sighed, turning back to Maja.

Maja inclined her head towards Gusje. “Farewell, Caretaker,” she said. “Thank you for your diligence.” She straightened up and disappeared, emerging back at her place on the dais in the same position she had taken earlier.

“What was that?” Jackie muttered, walking over to stand near Jesse. “Something up?”

He slouched back against the pillar, absently flexing the hand that had touched the sword. “Nope,” he said, meeting Mark’s wary look and waving him a quick all-clear. “Nothing major.”

“It didn’t look minor,” Jackie insisted. “What, you don’t think it’s a good idea to let Maja mess with the sword?”

Jesse hesitated, then shook his head. “Sort of,” he said. “The sword… for right now, it doesn’t need to get any stronger.”

Jackie gave him a concerned look, but Mark came over before she could say anything further. “All good?” he asked.

Jesse nodded, shouldering his pack. “Nothing to worry about,” he said. “I think we’re ready.”

“Fantastic,” Mark drawled, turning back towards the group. “All right, folks. Let’s pile on the elevator. The day’s already started, and I think we’ll want to get things checked out well before nightfall.”

Jyte nodded and called out a sharp command, forming the gold-cloaks into a neat rank. Somewhat less professionally, the others followed behind. When they had all gathered around the central elevator pillar, Gusje laid her hand on the cold stone and sent them upwards towards the gateway.