Chapter 18: The Rise of Penrith - Chapter 1

In a cavernous room lit by countless rows of thin candles, two shadowy figures sat on obsidian thrones, patiently waiting for their unexpected guest to speak. Flickering light glinted off their pale white skin, outlining their thin limbs and angular faces.

Their chests were covered by dark leather jerkins that sunk into the shadows distorting their features, only perceptible because of the thin strands of silver hair falling down past their shoulders. Red eyes glinted in the darkness, curious, confident, and narrow.

Both rulers possessed the long ears and angular cheekbones of elves, but preferred darkness and solitude over the sun-dappled communes of their forest-dwelling kin. Their blood was tinged with something ancient and arcane, a mutation that made them enemies of the race they most closely belonged to.

Lethier, the Duke of the wood-elf domain, had done everything in his power to stop their ascension, decrying them as abominations the moment their father had drawn his final breath. His campaign had been ruthless, but it ended in failure. After a violent and terrible decade, two powerful upstarts emerged victorious from a sea of blood, and were then enshrined as the new duchesses of the dark-elf lands.

“Come forward,” the woman on the left said, with a deep and breathy voice.

At her command, a slim elf stepped forward with a bow, tipping a big black fanciful hat to his knees.

“Hello, mother. Hello mum. It’s good to see you in good health.”

“Welcome back, son,” the woman on the left said.

“It’s good to see you too, Tobias,” the woman on the right said. “I see you’re still wearing that silly hat. Cute.”

The duchess on the right’s voice was a cheerful and vibrant squeak, nearly the exact opposite of her partner's posh, throaty monotone.

“Of course, mum. Isn’t it lovely?”

“I’m inclined to agree, Toby.”

“Please, Bell,” the first duchess groaned. “Don’t encourage him. It looks utterly ridiculous.”

The slender man smiled, then deliberately toyed with his hat as if to show it off.

“I think it makes me look quite debonair, but that’s not the only reason I adore it, mother,” he said with a glint in his eye. “It’s a conversation piece. Should anyone find my refined countenance intimidating, they can use my hat as a social crutch. I’m happy to report that—with the help of its charms—I’ve made some new friends!”

Duchess Bell stood up from her throne in excitement.

“Oh, honey, that’s tremendous!”

“Yes, yes, they’re fine and interesting people! Although, ehrm, I would be remiss not to mention that I may have assisted one of them in obtaining their Talent,” he confessed. “Oops!”

“Oh, Toby,” the pale woman sighed. “Did you at least get permission from whatever human presides over that land?”

“I did not!”

“So you found the disturbance, then?” The duchess on the left asked.

“Yes, mother,” he nodded. “It happened to be a beginner gate, spawned near a town at the bottom of the Boot called Penrith. It was so inviting that my new friends and I decided to clear its depths. I should also let you know that there was a small hiccup at the end, and I was forced to use my Talent against an offending monster. Don’t worry, though, my friends are extremely trustworthy!”

The more formal duchess began to massage her temples.

“Really, Tobias?”

“Indeed!”

“That was an extremely dangerous thing to do,” she said, clenching her jaw. “Not only did you recklessly clear a gate in Vazel’s lands, but you risked being identified away from our influence.”

“I’m sorry, mother,” Tobias bowed. “It was a fancy of mine, and I meant what I said. I trust my new comrades.”

“You were sent to investigate the anomaly, not make a social call!”

“I did both, mother,” he responded calmly.

The woman’s silver hair shook as she rose up in anger but her words were halted by her partner’s outstretched hand.

“Izzy, enough,” Bell whispered. “Yes, it was dangerous, but he made it back to us unharmed. We want him to enjoy himself. And I doubt there are any elves that far south, especially those who would recognize him. Imagine if I told you five years ago that little Toby went out on an adventure all by himself!”

Izzy sighed, then sank back into her seat with a shake of her head.

“Fair enough.”

She returned her attention to her son, who was waiting patiently, grinning as if nothing was wrong.

Just like his mother.

“Tobias, please be more careful in the future. We worry about you. That said, I am pleased that you completed your mission and made new friends. Did you find the cause of this gate?”

Tobias’s face flickered at the question, but he recovered quickly.

“Sort of. The mana density in the area is increasing steadily, enough to spawn low level gates. As to why that is happening, I do not yet know. I suspect some interesting events are going to play out in the future, and I would like to stay and experience them with my new friends, should my two favorite mothers be amenable!”

The two duchesses leaned forward, sharing a look of surprise. As if mirroring their reactions, the candle flames strained forward and intensified, making the pair’s faces more visible. Many nobles confused them as sisters, a mistake that annoyed them to no end. If you looked closely, their differences were obvious.

Belinda had dimpled cheeks, a straight nose, and a thin mouth that always seemed on the cusp of curving into a smile. Isabel’s eyes and cheeks were more narrow, with a hawk-like nose that always seemed to sniff out whatever trouble Tobias or her partner were about to get into. Izzy was nearly a foot shorter, but insisted on raising the seat of her throne so that their supplicants wouldn’t notice. In private, Bell had never let her live that down.

Their similarities were numerous, however: white hair, red eyes, and pale skin, a result of their ancient blood, which was far less diluted than any of Sepith’s other races. This was the result of persecution, and even outright extermination efforts their people had been subjected to in the past.

Much of their history had been erased, such that only a select few in the kingdom understood that the vast majority of dark-elves were not actually a different race of elf. They were the same genetically as their bow and forest favoring cousins, just descended from those who preferred to live in the Burrows instead of the Communes.

True dark-elves, called by a different name long ago, were extremely rare. Tobias was even more precious, because he possessed the ancient blood yet did not share the same features, making him a particularly dangerous anomaly. It was why Leither had tried to kill him, and why his former guardians had gone so far to ensure his protection.

Izzy and Bell’s ascent had given Tobias a chance to live a better life, but it had taken his entire childhood, and that weighed heavily on the duchesses’s conscience. Ever since they’d taken the throne, the two of them had dedicated themselves to granting him freedom. Their approach as mothers varied, but they were united in their love for him and each other.

“Toby…” Bell said, pronouncing his name slowly.

“Yes, mum.”

“Tell me about these friends, and why you are so eager to continue to see them again. You were only there for a few days, right, honey?”

“Of course, I would love to,” the handsome elf smiled. “They are a raucous dwarven craftsman with a heart of gold, a ranger who galavants along the Rim helping the unfortunate, a mysterious green-haired woman with a one-of-a-kind regeneration talent, and a red-haired noble I suspect is Duke Layton’s youngest daughter.”

“Duke Layton’s daughter?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Tobias replied. “I remember her from the royal ball, but she is currently masquerading as an adventurer. She has lovely birthing hips that I suspect all of us would admire, but sadly, she seems to prefer the ranger’s company. ”

“Interesting,” Izzy said, raising an eyebrow at her partner. “It sounds like you’ve joined quite the menagerie.”

“Haha, indeed I have! They were not aware of the anomaly in advance, but though we met by happenstance, I found them to be kindred spirits,” Tobias said with pride. “I would like to see what we can achieve together.”

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Bell tilted her head, curious as to how a boy who had spent the first seventeen years of his life confined to his room could relate to a strange group of wanderers.

“And what exactly is it that binds you together?”

Tobias clutched the brim of his hat, dipping it past his eyes and winking for dramatic effect. He had been thinking about exactly that since the day he left Penrith, and had come to the conclusion that they viewed Sepith the same as him, as a crooked mess run by a mess of crooks.

“They are all from different places, mum, but are as disenchanted with the kingdom as we are,” he explained. “They harbor the same ambitions of change I do, and don’t seem to mind my antics nearly as much as most!”

Tobias waited a moment, allowing his face to turn serious for just long enough to make it clear to his parents that his new comrades were not one of his usual jokes.

“I want to be a part of their journey, mothers. I, too, find the kingdom of Sepith defunct, and I wish to help change it with my own hands.”

Duchess Bell carefully examined her son, pride and sorrow welling up in her chest. She didn’t have to look at her partner to know she felt the same. The two of them had tried their best to be parents, to dull their son’s pain with a mother’s love and kindness, and protect him from Leither’s machinations without the same shackles their predecessors had used, but there was only so much they could do to mend seventeen years' worth of wounds.

Both of them knew that the knots in Tobias’s heart, buried beneath the eccentric persona he had cobbled together from his favorite books, had to be slowly and carefully unwound. She only hoped his sudden flight of fancy wouldn’t end in disaster. Bell nodded at her partner, who looked tempted to argue for a few moments, but eventually relented with a roll of her eyes.

“Toby,” Bell said softly. “If you cleared the dungeon, then you must be close to your first Profundity, yes?”

“Yes, mother, and I was able to gather a bit of progress our way as well.”

“Are you ready for the next step?”

“I would have said no a month ago…but after my sojourn, I am rife with ideas.”

Bell nodded, then paused for a moment. She had gotten an idea of her own, a way to appease her partner for a little while still giving her son the freedom he deserved.

“Tobias, would you mind staying for a few weeks?”

“Not at all,” her son chirped. “I wish to return to my friends, but who could say no to spending some time with my lovely and regal mothers!”

“Good,” she smiled, spying the relief on Izzy’s face.

This would at least give them some time to vet the ambitions Tobias was so excited about more thoroughly.

“Excellent. We would assist you in achieving your first Profundity, then I would feel more comfortable allowing you to return to your friends.”

A genuine smile appeared on their cavalier son’s face as he sank into a deep and stately bow.

“A wonderful plan. As expected of the Silver Duchess, and one of two of my favorite mothers!”

Bell tried not to laugh as her partner buried her head in her hands. She knew that her and Toby’s combined whimsy was difficult for her serious lover to overcome.

The two duchesses had both believed their conversation over when Tobias suddenly raised his head.

“Both of you are my beacons of light in this dark world. However, I have one more humble request…”

“Go on,” Izzy said.

“Do you think we could send Crow to Penrith for a bit? I’m sure we’ll find some useful baubles for the man out there.”

The smile on her son’s face spelled trouble, and worse, Bell knew Izzy was thinking his expression was just like hers.

***

At the top of a tower carved into a mountain, a tall woman with green hair and tan skin waited patiently in front of a grotto wide enough to fit a town inside. She knew the being who lived within was well aware of her presence, but when it came to her father, every interaction was always a test of patience. It was her least favorite virtue, but the one he and his kin held closest to their hearts.

Her father liked to say that the races of men were given the gift of action, while their people were given the gift of time. There was truth to that, but personally, she wondered if he and their elders were beginning to confuse stagnation with forbearance. Sadly, saying so would get her nothing more than a scolding.

She was hoping to avoid scorn today, but it was unlikely, given the conversation she was about to have. Ivy had known her Heart’s Desire for a long time, but hadn’t been able to find people worthy of sharing it–until she’d gone to Penrith. Lo and behold, she’d ended umwith an obnoxious dwarf, a verbose elf, a noble in sheep’s clothing, and a naive adventurer she’d dismissed as weak.

Yet, something about them captured her attention.

When they entered the dungeon, she’d had an inkling. When they killed the stormcrow and emerged victorious, she’d had a hunch. But when the bandits came, and Rayden’s eyes erupted in fire, she’d known that all of them would belong to her from then on.

She had found her hoard. Now, she just had to convince her father to let her keep it.

Ivy looked up at the sky and took a deep breath. It was early morning, and the last evening moon was still faintly visible beside a rising sun. A jagged array of snowy peaks stretched around the horizon, surrounding a deep valley of thinly separated lakes. As the sun rose to its high, arching perch, the birds of prey who nested on the mountain top above began to cry out and leave their nests.

Ivy suspected her father was about to stir.

“Ivnir?” A deep and raspy voice called out. “How unexpected. You are back from your little stroll so soon?”

“Hello, father,” she said calmly. “I am not finished with my journey, but I have returned to get some supplies.”

“Hmm...supplies. You know that is frowned upon, don’t you? A fledgling should not return from its first flight until they have decided to leave the nest for good, or return to make it its home.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, a habit she had learned from her new companions. Quill in particular was adept at the gesture, using it to mock the brash dwarf and his garrulous elf coconspirator. Having grown up in a home where visible emotion was frowned upon—or rather, stoically dismissed, she loved the way it conveyed her annoyance.

She was finding that expressing herself was a tad precocious, but fun.

“I don’t care, father...and I doubt you do either…”

She paused for a second, adding a few words to placate the old man.

“Though it is not the purpose of my visit, I am very glad to see you.”

“Haha!” His rumbling laugh echoed throughout his cave, causing some of the birds still lazing in their nests to startle and flee.

A few mountain goats bayed, and what she suspected was a capbradon roared in the distance.

“Has the flattery of humans rubbed off on my wayward daughter?”

“What do you think, father?”

Sarcasm was another one of her new favorites.

“Hmm…well, I smell them on you, dwarves and elves too. How unpleasant. Do you enjoy being around them, Ivnir? I find it overwhelming. They never take the time to properly think things over, racing toward their goals in full flight without knowing their own blindness is the biggest obstacle in their way. Do you find it funny that we both worship Prosperity, yet see his wisdom so differently?”

“I am fond of the companions I have found,” Ivy said, ignoring the theology lesson.

“Oh, and what exactly have you gotten wrapped up in, whimsical daughter of mine?”

Ivy sighed. The big snouted oaf was as nosy as ever. If she was considered whimsical, then she could only imagine how the man would reckon with Jim.

“I tracked down a human, one who had an interesting reputation, and we found a gate where one shouldn’t be. It was strange, no doubt meddled with by someone very powerful.”

“How powerful?” Her father asked.

Ivnir hesitated, knowing how he wouldn’t like the answer. Ultimately, she decided the truth was still the best path forward.

“Probably more powerful than you. Beyond the level of kingdom’s Knights, maybe even stronger than some of their Dukes.”

The old man snorted loudly. Ivnir stood tall as a gout of steam rushed by her. She knew that in order to get what she wanted, she needed to be firm. Her father loved her above all else, and manipulating that was the only way she could retain her freedom.

“Did...this entity…try to harm you?”

“No,” Ivnir said.

It was a half-truth, because while the shade and his crow had, she considered that a fair trial for whatever Rayden had been gifted. She did not know who the Mother was or what she had done to her human, but ever since they completed the dungeon, Rayden’s presence has evolved.

Something ancient had left its mark on him, warning others not to meddle.

Post-dungeon, Rayden’s passion carried a weight that it hadn’t previously, infectious and heroic. The others hadn’t seemed to notice, but Ivy’s senses were much more precisely honed, sculpted by one of her people’s most important traits: desire.

“It is difficult to describe this power’s meddling,” she said, “But their objective seemed to be helping the human whom I mentioned, which aligns with my own wishes.”

“You wish to help a human!?” He rumbled. “Ivnir, you haven’t mated with them, have you? How big is his hoard?”

“No, father, please calm down,” Ivy said, wincing. “Our visions align, and that is all.”

Rayden was not an object to her, nor would she interfere with him and the mind-mage’s dalliances; she simply wanted to combine his ambitions with her own.

“I see...but still, it is good you have returned. We must take the proper time to discuss your bout of fancy,” her father said dismissively.

“No,” Ivy said, with one fierce shake of he heard. “I am happy to stay for a month’s time and hunt with you, but I will be returning to Sepith soon after.”

She braced herself. Her father wasn’t going to like that answer, and he wasn’t exactly a morning person either. It didn’t help that her next words were going to be even more inflammatory.

“Why?”

The word was both a dare and a threat, suggesting only one acceptable answer.

“I have begun to find my Heart’s Desire, father, that’s why.”

Her father was silent for a moment, and she knew his mouth was hanging open because she could feel the heat of his hot breath emanating from the cave. Surprise was better than anger.

“Tell me more,” he commanded.

“My purpose is not yet fully formed, but I can feel it growing the longer I stay with my new companions,” she lied. “I must follow this thread, father.”

Truthfully, her desire was already complete, but if he knew what it was she wanted, he’d chain her up for at least a decade. Ivy was not even fifty years old yet. Most of her kin considered discovering your Heart’s Desire before one hundred extremely spurious. Her mother had been a notable exception, but that was working against her.

Her father remained silent for a moment, brooding in his cave. Eventually, two luminous yellow eyes opened in the darkness, examining her carefully.

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you have known them for what, a handful of days?”

“Yes, I am certain, and I must follow them until I find it.”

An awkward silence stretched on for several seconds, until her father’s booming laughter thundered from the cave, causing dust and stone to rain from the ceiling in piles.

“Hahahahaha! Fate is as cruel as always, I suppose.”

Ivy tilted her head.

“Try as I have to raise with you care, you still take after your mother, Ivnir, and that both scares me and makes me proud.”

Hearing her father admit as much was touching, even if his words were recklessly thrown together.

“I wish I could have spent more time with her,” Ivy said, head bowed.

“As do I...as do I.”

He sighed, lowering his gaze to what she suspected was an upward-turned claw. He always did that when he was sad, as if all the blood his kin had shed belonged on his hands.

“Take care, Ivnir. If you walk your mother’s path, you risk finding the same fate.”

“I understand, father,” she said solemnly. “But our people will have to face the royal family again someday. You know their greed will never be sated, they put our desire to shame.”

“Perhaps…” he said, blowing out a puff of air from his nostrils. “I have smelled the heavens at work recently... I can only hope they will favor us this time. I suspect Charity and Wrath were meddling in Lethier’s witch-hunt, and I sense their brother’s hand in the posturing of the human dukedoms now. The gods have grown bored.”

“And will we continue to kneel, I presume?” Ivy said, hiding a sneer.

“Careful, daughter,” her father cautioned. “Patience is not cowardice.”

Ivy slowly shook her head, gathering herself before she said something she might regret. She knew that politics were delicate and the royal family was strong, but sometimes it felt like her father was too caught up in their dance to make a move himself.

Did he not feel the same bottomless anger she did, did he not wish to fly above their castles and roast them in their beds, burning their carefully maintained kingdom to ash? It was a shame that the fire that had once burned in his belly had been quenched by grief and time. She had seen a terrible rage in Rayden’s eyes when the bandits tried to extort Penrith’s mayor, a roiling cauldron of emotions her kin had grown too afraid to express to a world that had beaten them down. She wanted it, and she wished her father did too.

However, chastising him would do her no good. Ivy was about to get what she wanted, and that was enough for now.

“We do not have to agree on everything,” she said carefully. “For now, I simply ask you to respect my freedom. I will stay with you for a month, then I will return to my flight, and hope that it remains free of your influence.”

Ivnir didn’t like speaking so authoritatively, but she had learned it was the only way her father would treat her like an adult—because by his standards, she was not.

She waited as he inspected her, eyes glowing like a guardsman’s torch in the dark of night.

“I see,” he rasped. “You speak from the heart. Do as you wish tonight, then join me at dawn tomorrow. I must shore up your magic before you return.”

His eyes closed without another word, and soon, deep rumbling snores filled the cave. Ivy finally unclenched her jaw, pleased with the outcome but exhausted by the conversation.

Deep down, she knew she was lucky. Her father might be stubborn, but he loved her far too much to ever clip her wings. She just hoped that someday, when the time arose, he would take flight to join her cause.

Whether he approved or not, Ivy was confident in her Heart’s Desire. She was going to tear down Sepith’s walls with fire and fury, sink her teeth into the royal family’s haughty flesh, and build a new kingdom in her and Rayden’s image. Her human would soon realize that he wasn’t the only one with a mother to avenge.