The Future - 2

It was two bells past noonday when they arrived, and the shadow of the titanic Grey Mountain cast over the city walls of Outlast. Wick had heard the changes in the city before their khosa went through the gate. It was quieter than he remembered. Where there had been hundreds of merchant criers, Wick could now only hear a few. Even more startling, the echoes of sails flapping by the harbor were missing.

When they reached the gate and were greeted by a large procession of excited citizens, Wick didn't spot a single sailor among them. There were maybe a hundred people there to see the famed Captain Greenlast himself, he who defeated the legendary guntus.

A wide-shouldered man with a slight beer belly wearing illustrious robes was at the front of the pack. He looked to be the standard Vandian noble by the measure of his clothes, but the embroidered cloth he wore was too rich for the now-hollow Outlast. It was a stark study in contrast, a single wealthy, smiling man among a hundred poor, tired people.

Wick felt his eyebrow raise behind his mask at the sight of the man who had a pretty woman with green hair following behind. Through the eye slits, he saw Captain Greenlast visibly stiffen, but the good captain still walked forward ahead of the khosa.

The man in the robes threw his hands wide and shouted as if on stage. "Outlast welcomes Captain Greenlast and the Zero Squadron, hero of the final war!" He put his hand out to the captain, who traded a rigid grip with him. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mayor Lanton."

Wick hoped Greenlast stuck to the program.

"Mayor, what a fine city and fine people you greet us with," Greenlast declared, his voice equally as showy as the mayor's. At the mention of the phrase 'fine city', Mayor Lanton brightened. However, Wick saw a familiar gleam in the man's eyes. It was the look of someone who wanted something.

The rest of Zero Squadron hopped off the cart. Redboy mounted off the khosa, calming it in the presence of so many people.

Mayor Lanton shook hands with all of the captain's squad. He said, "You two must be the famed limitadi who helped defeat the guntus."

Captain Greenlast pointed to the young woman with ghostly white hair that fell down just past her shoulders. Her hand rested on the flat pommel of a thin rapier with metal flowers and vines curled at the base of the grip. The captain's helmet bobbed when he spoke. "This is Dawn, known to all as the Summer Sword. Don't mind her demeanor. She took a vow of silence."

Dawn gave a nearly imperceptible nod to the mayor, her dead gaze clearly making him feel uncomfortable. Deepest Hells, it made Wick feel the same way. Even now, the woman unnerved him.

"Ah," Lanton said. "And you must be Lady Vein, the delegate from Simmerest. I am so sorry to hear about the others of your order."

Vein winced at that. Wick smiled beneath his mask. The woman hated any hint of being called a Lady, even though she was elevated to a Noble status by the new Emperor himself. She said icily, "I need a drink."

Lanton blinked at that. He seemed at a loss, probably not expecting the heroes who ended the war between Vandia and the oreads to be so off-putting. Tavli, ever the diplomatic plumin, whistled apologetically and offered a wing. He whistled, "I am Tavli."

The mayor's smile that had faltered regained its composure. He said, "Yes. Sir Tavli, the supply master himself. Glad to meet you."

Captain Greenlast nodded to Redboy. "That one you'll have to leave alone. He is a friendly enough sort, but he has a hard time with people other than the members of Zero Squadron."

Lanton looked relieved. He stepped to the side, revealing the woman who had followed him. Her green hair had a slightly blue tint. She had a downcast look and a small baby bump. The mayor gestured to the woman, pulling at her wrist. Wick noticed she had more makeup on than what most women wore. She was covering something.

"This," the mayor said, his grip still on the woman's wrist, "is Emilia. She is my house servant and soon to be mother of my child."

Captain Greenlast paused. "Just Emilia? No last name?"

"No," Lanton said flatly, as if the notion of marrying a servant was far beneath him. "She is a great nurse, though."

It was a tense enough question. She wasn't a slave, meaning the woman was at best an indentured servant. Wealthy nobles bedded their servants all the time, but when they did so, most were folded into the family when they produced an heir. To not give the servant the noble's last name meant they weren't seen as more than a carrier for the children.

It wasn't strictly illegal, but it was frowned upon.

Wick held a breath. People were predictable, but the woman was beautiful, and the captain could get a little impulsive. Luckily, Greenlast stuck to the plan and held Emilia's hand gently in his own. He said softly, "I have never met a more beautiful woman in my life."

Lanton's eyebrows raised high, and Wick saw the gleam again. The mayor's gaze flicked back and forth between his pregnant house servant and the armored captain. Wick could practically see the gears turning greedily in the man's mind.

The mayor's attention turned to Wick, who was still on the cart. "Are you also part of Zero Squadron, good sir?"

Wick shook his head, affecting an amiable, quiet voice. He made sure to whisper. "I am here on behalf of the Emperor himself to make sure the tour across the country is met smoothly."

"You'll have to speak up," Lanton said. "I'm sorry. I can barely hear you behind that mask."

Wick knew exactly how Lanton felt about masks, given the mayor's history with men in masks. He kept his on, but raised his voice, repeating the words and adding, "We were informed that you wished the good captain's party to stay for the week. The southern border is our last stop, and we must return to the wormhole by tomorrow."

Lanton kept his smile, but it wavered a little, probably perplexed at not getting a straight answer. Wick was sure the mayor didn't react well when everything didn't just fall into his lap. The slight blue tinge behind Emilia's makeup was proof of that. "What is it you do, if I may ask."

"I'm a banker," Wick joked.

"Odd that a banker has attended the Zero Squadron on their peace tour. I hope you're not here to review our accounts. All of our taxes to the Emperor have been paid in full," the mayor assured. He asked again, "And what shall I call your honorable self?"

Wick stopped himself from saying any one of the dozens of cutting replies that came to mind. Restraint was the measure of a man. In reply, Wick raised his staff and slammed it into the floor of the cart. The wooden beads on his bracelet thrummed with power. "You may only call me by my title, Delegate, for I represent the will of the Emperor and the hesperide Queen herself."

Lanton fell to his knees as the air around him weighed twice as heavy as before. As if with years of practice, the robed mayor pulled out a vial with smoky blue liquid, crushed it on the ground, and inhaled the blue smoke. The whites of his eyes were almost completely tinged with blue, revealing a manna pot habit that had gone out of control. He stammered, "I'm sorry if I have offended the Delegate."

Wick released the synced spells, and the gravity around the mayor dispersed. He said, "You don't matter enough to offend me except for the fact that you have wasted our precious time on pageantry. Captain Greenlast and his Zero Squadron are due to leave tomorrow for the capital in preparation to go to Mawfang and challenge the Labyrinth on behalf of our good nation. I am here to make sure nothing goes awry. They are only here to celebrate the truce with your citizens and rest before the great journey. Understood?"

Captain Greenlast didn't step forward, his hand noticeably still holding Emilia's. Wick frowned at the sight of it, and the captain must have sensed it because he dropped the woman's hand. Emilia looked both startled and confused.

Lanton's shoulders heaved as if standing up from the gravity magic had cost him days of sleep. Wick smiled behind his mask. The mayor bowed his head, but Wick still saw the flash of pure hate he wore before bowing. "Apologies, Delegate. I shall lead them straight to my mansion. Emilia has prepared the rooms, haven't you, Emilia?"

There was a slight edge in Lanton's voice, and Emilia's back straightened, her hand caressing her baby bump nervously. "Yes, Lanton."

"Good," replied the mayor. "Celebrations will be at town hall come seventh bell. Is that to your pleasure, Captain?"

Greenlast nodded. "You go. I need to speak with our Delegate about official business. My apologies for any misunderstandings."

At the mayor's behest, the crowd dispersed.

Wick hopped off the cart as Zero Squadron followed behind Lanton, who was proudly recounting his own battles on the warfront when he had done his mandatory military service. Now that the war was over, there were no mandatory services. Wick smiled at the blatant lies coming out of Lanton's mouth as he walked away. He had it on good authority that the mayor wasn't anywhere near an actual battlefield during his year-long tenure in the military.

When they were alone, Wick put a comforting hand on his friend's pauldron. He said gently, "You showed great restraint. I'm proud of you."

Greenlast sighed under his helmet. "Me? How about you? I thought you were going to crush him then and there."

Wick extended his new senses from True Sight and found no one watching. He lifted his mask up a little to show his smile to the captain. "You forget I'm not here to crush him like a boy on petty revenge. I'm here to take everything Lanton values. His will be mine, and all he will have left is the empty shell of his own lies."

Greenlast snorted. "So dramatic. The citizens seem to adore him."

Wick chuckled. "That's what happens when you spew lies about your days in war. They think him a hero, but he is no better than a stage actor who believes his own lies. We're going to take away that illusion, captain."

Greenlast sighed. "I need to get going. Will I be seeing you before the sun sets?"

Then he added, a little worry in his voice, "Will you be able to handle it? I don't doubt you, but when you didn't come back from the second level of the Hemincross dungeon for a week straight, I thought I lost you. This is supposed to be on the same level as that."

"That was before the end of the war," Wick reminded him. He pulled down his mask to cover his entire face again. His gaze turned to the bottom of Grey Mountain. "I killed the guntus after it killed and absorbed hundreds of pilgrims. I'm pretty sure that makes me overqualified."

Wick's grip on his staff twisted, and the pluminwood transformed into a wooden sword. "If everything else fails, I'll use the Autumn Sword. Remember what I told you. Put on a good show for Lanton. Make him believe that you are completely entranced by Emilia."

"Tavli's sources were correct, then. She really is pregnant. Why didn't Lanton marry her?" asked Greenlast.

Wick shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? It's about control. That's all Lanton has ever cared about. If she was his wife or folded into his family, then she'd be legally entitled to things a simple servant girl wouldn't. But as a servant holding his baby, he holds the threat of putting her on the street at any moment."

Greenlast's gauntlets clenched around the steel pommel of the sword sheathed on his hip. The metal crunched audibly under his legendary grip. He released it. His hands glowed a soft blue with a few sparks, evidence of manna leak. The metal reshaped itself back into place. "You come back alive and I'll make sure to not rip off Lanton's head before the sun rises tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal." Wick chuckled, noting that the distance between Outlast and the bottom of Grey Mountain used to take him at least half an hour’s walk.

Captain Greenlast stepped and vanished, leaving behind a small crater where his boots had once been. Wick blurred. He wasn't anywhere near as fast as the good captain. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared at the bottom of Grey Mountain. The bottom of the mountain held a thick copse of trees which the locals called Grey Forest. Terrible naming sense, but logical in its own way.

A flurry of memories came to Wick, each crisp and perfect as if he had experienced them only moments before. But he hadn't. It had been at least seven years since.

Wick extended his new and improved True Sight, and found its abilities blocked by the powerful amnestic properties of the Grey Mountain. Luckily, he had a glass amulet that would let him keep his memories. In fact, he now had two.

He took off his mask and pocketed it in his tunic. He twisted the wooden sword of decay, transforming it into a long wooden staff with a bone-black head for a spade. Seven and a half years before, Wick had challenged the first level of the Misonians’ legacy dungeon. The attempt had nearly killed him. He was arrogant then. By the Crawl, he was arrogant now. He liked the symmetry of when he entered and reentering it now.

Wick could feel his grin stretch along his face.

It was time to conquer the dungeon.