《The Order and The Lost》Prelude: Melthius Cantar
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“I hate this country,'' said Melth, rubbing his temple and closing his eyes for a moment. “All the enchantments around here give me a headache.”
His partner, an older woman in a black robe, didn’t so much reply as grunt. Their two horses continued south back towards the fortified waystation that the Order maintained just west of Nase. Behind them was a village that served as a small trade plaza for those who did not wish to head to the city proper; ahead of them was only a lonely road across a few low rolling hills. Further behind and a bit to the north was the secluded estate they had been visiting.
Between the two of them, she was more used to this country, and also to riding horses. Melth was much more comfortable in an office, or ideally, a library. Duty, of course, often took people places they do not wish to go.
A moment passed before Melth continued. “I do worry. Lord Egrethore wasn’t hiding anything obvious, but there should have been more there. There should have been something.”
The woman took her time before replying. Melth could sense the tension and some hostility, but had no idea what was bothering her. As a voidling, Melth had enough familiarity with mind magic that he could have found out, but the Order’s rules, let alone social mores, forbid that kind of invasive magic. More than that, he would like to think that they had become friends in the short time he’d been working here. The Order was good about that--picking people to work together who would get along, even if they only had to work together for a short time.
Finally, she let out a quiet sigh. “Yes, Melthius, there should have been something. But the Egrethore estate, like most Seyonan nobles, can easily afford to hire wardwalkers, and they knew we were coming. There’s no way we would ever catch anything if we go around announcing our plans to everyone.”
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Melth felt his chest tighten. It was hardly his call, nor his responsibility, but her tone was definitely an accusation. “Lord Egrethore is politically connected. If I showed up out of nowhere accusing him of something, even if I found evidence, I doubt I’d survive the trip back. I might not even survive the inspection. I was expecting him to panic and leave something behind. But even with all my senses, I can’t find anything.”
Nina just snorted. “I take it then that you did not notice the Vein close to his property?”
Melth almost turned the horse back around. He tried to call up a mental map of the continent. Nothing he’d recalled or sensed told him that. “I… uh… no? No, I didn’t, Nina. How close?”
“Very close. Behind the house, at the base of the cliff. There was a boulder blocking--and magically concealing--the entrance to the cave. It is a thin Vein, but I would say it almost certainly connects to the main network. If not, it must have access to the other side.”
Somehow, those facts made his headache come into clearer focus, as though they had been the cause of his malaise. If they spent the effort to conceal it, that definitely meant that they used it; the worst possible answer would be if the estate had access to their own private spatial node deep within the earth, or Light forbid, an entrance to the Underworld. But having access to a Vein was bad enough; it certainly explained the deep connection to the elements that everyone in the family had seemed to have.
After a moment, though, he relaxed. “Thank you,” he offered. “That just might be the puzzle piece we need. If we can get a very good Walker, they might be able to--”
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His senses warned him, but not in time. He tried to throw himself out of the saddle, only managing to take the crossbow bolt to the shoulder instead of the back. The force of the bolt kept him from landing cleanly on the ground, and it rattled him. He heard Nina shout, and then collapse to the ground, but the horses reared and screamed, and his wound burned, and somehow, amid all the danger, Melthius fell into a dark slumber, knowing nothing else.
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