Interlude

Joeseph

Joeseph walked down to the keep basement, mumbling swears and obscenities under his breath. His fingers traced alongside a dimly lit wall in an attempt to find a button or lever so that he may reveal an exit and leave.

However, in his misfortune, the exit opened by itself, and it proved to be but a well-hidden door at the very end of the room that led outside onto the streets. The problem was that around ten heavily armoured men with halberds in hand stood there and quickly entered the basement to find the lone Templar standing there, his sword still sheathed.

“Did you expect us or are you here on accident?” one of the men said with an unordinary accent.

“Both, actually,” Joeseph replied. “Am I to assume you’re going to demand my surrender and to hand over my weapon before I get hurt?”

“Hmh? No, actually we had no plans to hurt you. We own the city, no point in any further bloodshed so simply turn around and walk back upstairs to the rest of your Inquisitors,” another one, whose helmet was decorated by large wings, said. “Unless you aim to fight us for whatever reason, but I highly doubt a man such as yourself thinks of such dumb things, no?”

“Ah, well, you’d think it’s futile from my perspective, but…” The Inquisitor drew his sword and swung it once towards them. It, however, hit only the air as they stood a good seven to ten meters away from him. Soon enough, the soldiers burst into laughter.

“Ohoh, that is a good one. I am glad to see that even the stalwart Inquisitors have a sense of humour!” the winged Kyrionean said. “But, let us not tarry any longer and commence our march to the floor above!” he said and put his foot out, walking forward with the rest of the soldiers.

It was at this moment that Joeseph proceeded to sheath his blade and in doing so whispered an eldritch word, so faintly that even he barely heard it. The soldiers in white were all now in the place where he swung his sword, and it was there that they stopped moving.

Was it a flash of black, or a stroke of pure darkness that forfeited their movement? It could not be said for it looked just like the swing Joeseph previously made, but like a gust of impenetrable shadow that was soon mixed with a spray of blood as every single man dropped down and bled out from a wound that stretched across their necks.

“Should have warned them that I was serious.” The Inquisitor sighed and looked at the bloody mess he made. “Time I was on my way, then…” He proceeded further but was suddenly stopped as he heard a gasp from behind and saw one of the Inquisitors, a younger recruit, standing at the basement entrance. Alyon. Him, of all people? Well, Joeseph did not warn anyone not to follow him.

“H-how did you do that?” he said, startled and afraid. The boy was there the entire time and saw what Joeseph did. He must have. “D-don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody! I’ll just be going back up the stairs and…”

“My apologies, but I can’t really trust you on that one.” He tackled the boy and knocked him out cold with a stern elbow hit to the head. “But I can’t really kill you either, can I?” he said to the unconscious Alyon and picked him up, carrying him over his shoulder. “I sure am one hell of a mentor.”

Now came the hard part. Joeseph would need to sneak into the canals underneath Dammrias while carrying an unconscious boy and during an active overtaking of the city. The only entrance that he knew of was in the cathedral. The sewers also had a path into the cathedral and they were the safest. He contemplated shortly if it was better to go up against the entire occupation force or to endure the stench of piss and shit. The stench barely won out.

He went down into the sewers through a covered hole behind one of the armoury buildings. It was covered by a heavy lid, but there was no issue in moving it aside and revealing the ladder. Climbing down with one arm was an issue, though. To free his arm, he entered the armoury searching for a rope. He did find one hanging on the wall and tied Alyon on his back as quickly as he could. Afterwards, he descended down the hole and into the sewers.

The smell was slightly better than he thought it would be. Still rancid, though. He walked besides the sewage and dirty water towards the east where the cathedral was. Hopefully, no one was inside the sewers.

The hope of staying alone was quickly extinguished once he reached the four-way intersection underneath the river. Three people were approaching from the north. A boy in a black coat, a female guard, and… the prince? Was he evacuating, as well?

“An Inquisitor? What are you doing here of all places?” asked the prince.

“Leaving the city,” he said and stared at them. “Going to the cathedral?”

“Why would we…” the prince stopped himself and made an expression of realization. “Are you saying that there is a way to leave the city through the canals?”

“If you know where you’re going. If you plan on going right outside the city, I think there’s an exit near Fynwood and in a church towards Devyr. The others are… farther.”

“How large are these canals even?”

“Very.” Joeseph continued walking east. Telling them how far the tunnels stretched was unnecessary. He did not know the distance in miles, but he did know that the eastern end was in an Ereyan castle on the other side of the continent.

The three persons followed Joeseph. He did not mind them accompanying him. They posed no threat, after all. At least he thought so. And if they did… well, only three of them. He won against worse odds, did he not?

“Why are you, erm, carrying an unconscious boy on your back, exactly?” the prince asked.

“He is knocked out, can’t walk by himself.”

“I see… and are the Inquisitors not neutral in all of this? Surely no harm can come from you staying in the city.”

Joeseph stopped and turned around. The prince was suspicious. The girl knight had her hand on her sword. “A precaution,” Joeseph said after the already stagnant air became heavier. “Who knows what they’ll do come morning.”

The tension slowly came down. “Fair enough. Let us move onwards,” the prince spoke again.

They had, eventually, reached the cathedral through a ladder that led upwards to its northern wing. The priest asked no questions and merely gave an acknowledging nod as they passed through the main hall and into the southern wing where the canal entrance sat.

Once there, they walked forward for a bit. Then, Joeseph placed his hand against the wall and uttered a few short words. Tairseach, tairseach, mo bhaile. As the words left his mouth, runes started to glow bright, runes that had not been visible prior. They were engraved in the walls and showed the way forward.

“Where do you plan to go?” Joeseph asked.

“Devyr,” Julius answered.

“Go west, then. The red runes show where you can go out. Press them, and the way will show. Think the first red one lands you right beneath the church I mentioned previously. No idea about the rest.”

“I see. Thank you for your guidance, Inquisitor. Stay safe,” Julius said and the three started to leave.

Joeseph sighed and west further east until he could start going south. There was a cold air of uncertainty trailing him as the runes and lights flickered. There were many dark hallways and passages that tempted him from his path home. Even he himself did not wish to go where he did, but the times called for such measures. He did not know what to do, so there was only one man he could ask for counsel.

Had he been walking above ground, over hills and between trees, his trip would have lasted some two days. But the smooth bricks and stones of these canals gave a feeling of timelessness. They did not truly exist, after all. They could not. Yet they were here, and those who walked within soon realized that the clock never ticked forward. The hour never changed. Nothing changed but the flicker of lights.

He came across a red rune on his way south. This was where he would leave. He waved his hand over the rune and the walls in front started to gradually shift, revealing a passageway with a stairwell. He felt fear. Nothing came from up there other than a sick and menacing shawl of Death.

He braced himself and went up the stairs. Slowly. Until he reached a flimsy panel and pushed it aside. There was a large flag in front, covering the entrance. Joeseph went through.

Dim lights and black walls surrounded him. Towered him. The roof could not be seen, only a nocturnal darkness. There was a light fog around him. Very light. Nothing like how it was outside this castle. It was not obscuring and oppressing, but it was ever-present. Never leaving.

He untied Alyon and placed him down against a pillar. The boy would wake soon. Then, Joeseph walked away. He would return, of course. But he needed to speak.

He walked amongst square columns on a carpet of tar fur, up three stairs and through an arched pass. In front was a large place, a round place, lit up by a light that came down from the ceiling.

And in the very middle of the room stood the throne of this castle. A tree, gnarled and rotten, large and wide. A seat in front, made from scourged ivory and blighted willow, adorned by black cat eyes and rough onyx. A drape of stained silk covered it – and on it sat an ageless man.

A man who was waiting, yet he would never await.

A man who merely observed, yet could never see.

A man who desired desecration, yet he himself was immaculate afore the world.

“I have told you once,” the man began to utter. His visage was pure, serene, beautiful. Long black hair hung from his head. A youthful face without gender. His spirit, though… “All roads would lead you back to me. The road of any man leads back home. Yours, as well, my son. And so, here you are.”

“And here I am,” said Joeseph who kept a safe distance between himself and the man. “I’ve come for answers.”

“And answers you shall receive.” The man softly smiled. His mellow gaze fell onto the eyes of his son. “It is my sole duty to enlighten my children. And my children, in turn, give back enlightenment through pride and success. Things you have yet to give.”

Joeseph ignored his words. “I’ve met a man who carries a Regalia. He just appeared below an oak one day, around the same time the war started. And now, Kyrione occupied Dammrias, multiple deaths occurred due to supernatural means, and apparently there are Gala in the city, as well. I assume all of it is connected and that you had a part in it, as well.”

“Of course I did. We have set these plans in motion long ago. Though my part is a long way down the road, I have calculated things on my own. Rest assured, house Claimthe will achieve victory over its adversaries. We will free this world.”

“Right. Now, where do I come in?”

“You?” his father scoffed. “What a wild assumption to make! You, who lost any possibility of inheritance and every semblance of nobility, think I have any use for you? And to think you lost all of it over a mere woman! You are-“

“Shut the hell up!” Joeseph suddenly shouted. Anger welled up inside him. He did not remember the last time he was so flushed…

The man smiled. “There is still life in you yet, I see. Good. You might make amends. Come hither.”

Joeseph walked up. The man held a small vial in his hand filled with a shimmering black and white. “…What am I to do with it?” He eyed the liquid cautiously.

“Nothing. Carry it on your person until it falls into the right hands. You shall receive all your answers by then, for I have neither the time nor the will to reveal truths to you. Know that you are but a pawn serving its master, and such will be your fate.”

He grabbed the vial. “Once I deliver this… thing… will you return my titles?”

“Once you accomplish your task, you will be free from sin and the unseen grief clutching at you. And as for your titles… I have yet to see how your dear brother performs. Should he prove to be underperforming, you will receive what was to be his.”

Joeseph clicked his tongue and backed off. “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

“Victory as an individual is meaningless. One may lose, another may win. All of it will be swept under the rug sooner or later. A rug trampled by the masses. Do your task, a task that will help our blood, and we shall claim victory as a people.”

The Inquisitor turned around and started to walk away. “Before I leave – where am I to go? Or do you plan to send me in the dark?”

The man leant against his fist. “Had you not come here, where would you go? Follow those Inquisitors of yours. You shall succeed, or fail, eventually.”

Joeseph left the room. He walked out and never glanced back.

He came up to the boy who had awoken by now. He was still sitting there, clutching his knees and shivering. “C-captain Joeseph? Where are we? Why is it so cold here?” he asked.

“Blackwood.”

“B-Blackwood!? How long was I out!?”

“Never mind all that. Stand up, we’re leaving.”

Alyon stumbled up. “I-I-I-I-I what? Where?”

Joeseph scratched his chin. “Édom. And then… we’ll see. It’ll be quite the trip, so best hurry up.” Joeseph started to walk away.

“Hold on!” The boy rushed towards him and walked closely next to him. “Shouldn’t we go to Reyisaan?”

“We will,” he said and opened the castle gates. They entered a city where the sky could not be seen due to a thick mist. If it was day or night, no one could tell. Joeseph started walking south. “Stay next to me and don’t make eye contact with anyone.”

“Why?”

“Not a friendly soul around here.” The two walked through streets of grey and cracked stone. Broken lampposts surrounded the pathways next to rundown but still operating taverns and stores. The guards that walked through the mist carried lanterns. They were clad in metal from head to toe and they shambled about, peering at Joeseph and Alyon as they passed by. The echo of birds and steps were all that filled the town. No chatter or shouting from the townsfolk. No market bustle or the sound of cartwheels. Only the lonely ambience followed them right until they stepped out of the city. Right until they stepped out of the forest.