The days following Leon and his companions’ arrival in Antiochus were filled with memorizing names, maps, and potential fallback plans. They learned all that Justin could tell them about his contacts in Torn Sky and where sanctuary outside of Tion Bey’s safehouse might be found. They learned every way in and out of the city, regardless of how relevant it might be to their mission. And they practiced with the tools they were going to use to get into the city undetected.
In the latter case, Leon was pleased to find that everyone learned how to use his disguise bracelets quickly and that they worked well. The lack of time to test the latest iterations in Artorion had been a quiet stressor, and though Nestor was present and could help with potential problems, it was a great relief to know that that wasn’t needed.
With the disguise bracelets, everyone had new faces and concealed auras. The time limit they had was measured in hours, which might have been a generous limit had their mission been to infiltrate anywhere smaller than a city-sized palace and the actual city surrounding it, but Leon knew that they’d make do. His people were strong and smart enough to adapt to challenges, especially since they all knew what their strategic objectives were.
Breaks were relatively few. With so little time to prepare, they wanted to make use of all that they had. Justin and Regulus, however, hadn’t achieved Apotheosis, and both took at least one break a day to ensure they were rested for what was to come. On the final day, that one break lasted several hours.
Leon, despite trusting that Justin at least wanted to rescue his wife even if he didn’t trust the man much further, took a break of his own at the same time and went to find Regulus. He found the old man on one of the estate’s terraces overlooking the city. Lights glimmered in the dark and a low din was carried by the wind up to the terrace. The smells of the city and its environs were carried, too, but thankfully, the estate was distant enough that Leon’s nose wasn’t assaulted the moment he stepped outside.
Regulus was alone on the terrace, sitting in a fine wicker chair made of olive wood, a table beside him with a mug of something that smelled terribly bitter steaming atop it, and a bowl of olives that looked untouched. In the Origin Spark’s ‘moonlight’, Regulus’ face looked a thousand years older, the faint wrinkles that were present during the day casting long shadows across his face at night.
“King Leon,” Regulus whispered as Leon stepped onto the terrace, his boots thumping softly on the terrace’s paving stones. “Do you require something?”
The question was honest and well-intentioned as far as Leon could tell, rather than a subtle repudiation for interrupting the man when he was alone with his thoughts. Thusly encouraged, Leon walked over, joining the man in another wicker chair and staring out across Antiochus.
“I like this city,” he said. “Quieter than Artorion.”
“I’m sure it smells worse, though,” Regulus replied. “It’s not a place that many people settle in. Too many olive presses.”
“You left this city,” Leon pointed out. “But you came back.”
“It’s home,” Regulus stated. “My home. I’d hoped Justin would settle back here, too. We weren’t the first to leave this city hoping for something more, and we weren’t the last. But few who leave come back. I love this city—even the smell. But it’s different when so many of those people I knew centuries ago are gone, never to return, for whatever reason. Justin has been understandably distracted, and I know he won’t stay long, but that he’s here at all has been nice. It reminds me of younger days.”
He pointed down into the city, to one of the darker districts. “We came from down there. Half a dozen street kids who thought they could make something great of themselves. We joined the local magistracy. Unsatisfied and thinking we could do better, Justin and I left for Torn Sky.”
“And now you’re both back, if only for a little while,” Leon remarked softly. He knew well the melancholy that could settle in when contemplating how the places of one’s youth had changed, even if the streets and buildings all remained the same. “If you don’t mind telling me… why did you come back?”
Regulus gave him a wry smile. “Do you think I was exiled as Justin was?”
“If you were, I’d assume that one or both of you would’ve told me by now,” Leon stated. “Was my assumption correct?”
Regulus shrugged, then grunted affirmatively. “Suppose I would’ve. No, Justin and I were ambitious, and we left Antiochus thinking we might never return. But we both found something in Torn Sky that changed our perspectives. In that damned city, we found the ruin of all ambitious men.” The bald man shot Leon a knowing smile. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”
“Women, I imagine,” Leon said. Regulus nodded in confirmation, and Leon added, “I’ll admit that I don’t quite get that perspective; my ladies have only ever spurred me on, feeding my ambition. Were I not the last of my Clan, I’d likely be considerably less ambitious than I am. My nature is to take things more slowly, and without my wives helping me to keep my head on straight, I can easily see myself stagnating.”
“You’re a lucky man, then,” Regulus responded. His tone turned deeply nostalgic as he turned his eyes upward, the light of the Origin Spark and countless star-like cities glimmering in the dark reflecting in his eyes. “Justin found a woman worth dying for, and he very nearly did. Had he not been exiled, I’m sure Kamran would’ve had Justin dismembered and his head and limbs strewn throughout the city—a traitor’s punishment. I, however… I did not make the same mistake. I also found a woman worth dying for, but instead of feeding my ambition, she made me realize just what I had been living for during my time in Torn Sky, and when we were married, she showed me exactly what I had to lose.”
“You left Torn Sky for her, then?” Leon asked.
“For her,” Regulus agreed, “and our boys.” He stumbled slightly on his words there, and Leon imagined that the woman and the two boys he’d seen in Regulus’ murals weren’t simply not around; they were likely with their Ancestors…
Leon waited patiently for Regulus to continue, and when he didn’t, Leon gently asked, “Might I ask why they’re not here?”
A long moment passed, and Leon thought the man might refuse to answer. However, when he spoke in a voice thick with regret, he said, “My boys left, as Justin and I did so long ago. Several years later, Kamran sent their heads back in a box.” Regulus frowned so deeply at the memory that he could barely continue, but somehow, he still managed to force the next words out.
“My wife received the boxes, and the men Kamran sent arrested her after showing her our boys’ heads. Meliana was executed the following morning. I was arrested an hour after she was, when I returned to my house from local business, and was forced to watch as her throat was cut. We… we were not permitted to speak to each other following our arrest. I was then tortured for a week before I was released. It took me an entire year to piece together what happened.”
Regulus’ hands tightened and Leon sensed a brief but monumental spike in his killing intent, enough to coat the terrace in a thin layer of cracking frost.
“My boys were executed because one of their friends was incorruptible. That friend arrested a powerful merchant associated with Torn Sky’s slavers’ guild, and had him punished publicly for some inconsequential offense. That friend, and all of his friends, including my boys, were then implicated in a plot to… commit some treason. It hardly matters now. The accusation was meritless, but the guild was powerful enough to get away with it. Kamran killed my boys for having the wrong friends. Kamran killed my boys because they were tangentially associated with someone who upset a powerful faction in his capital city. Kamran then killed my wife because she’d raised ‘a pair of traitors’. I was only spared because of my past service, and due to the word of the friends I still had in Kamran’s court—though I often wish they hadn’t bothered. To continue on without my family…”
Regulus scoffed quietly before once more turning his gaze to Leon, deadly seriousness glittering in his eyes.
“I know why you came out here, King Leon. You’re concerned about me. You’re concerned about Justin. How reliable we are. I can’t speak for Justin, but I will say this about me: the only reason I have not willingly thrown myself into the arms of the death spirits who would bear me to my wife, sons, and all the others I have lost over the centuries is that I refuse to go before Kamran. I will see that bastard’s head on a spike before I follow my family into the land of the dead… though until recently, my power to do anything at all was limited. What we’re going to do tomorrow… this operation to spring Ariana from Kamran’s palace… this has been the first time in the past two hundred years that I have been in a position to truly strike at that man. You do not have to be concerned about me, King Leon; I’m committed to this, and I won’t let anyone down—especially not my friend, who has suffered as I have suffered for the absence of his wife. I would hope that he would do the same for me, if there was ever a possibility of returning my wife to my arms, and so I will do the same for him.”
Leon let the moment stretch, the gravity of what Regulus had just told him giving him quite a bit of pause. When he finally spoke, he did so with closed eyes and a heart beating with cold, centuries-old wrath.
“I can relate to that pain. My father was killed on Kamran’s orders, and my life was never the same. Those holes never close. We may forget they’re there for a while, but something will always come and remind us of what we’ve lost. Some joke you wish you could tell them, some sight you wish you could show them…” Leon paused, chuckling darkly. “I share your passion for seeing Kamran dead. It won’t happen tomorrow, not with Kamran out in the planes… but one day, I will see him made a head shorter, and upon the name of my Ancestors, I will do everything I can to be the man holding the sword that parts his head from his shoulders…”
Regulus huffed approvingly, and the two sat on the terrace for long minutes in silence. Eventually, though, Leon rose and left Regulus with his thoughts. Leon had quiet concerns about how much Regulus could be trusted when he’d stepped onto the terrace, but now…
Well, he supposed the old man could’ve been lying, but he hadn’t detected any deceit. He was no expert in such things, but after centuries as a King, he’d found himself starting to develop a bit of an eye for it, so he was confident that Regulus had been nothing but truthful.
‘Hopefully Tion Bey and Maemon will prove at least as trustworthy…’ Leon thought. ‘Kamran’s palace would be a terrible place to be ambushed…’
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When the morning came, the entire group piled into the ark that had picked them up from Torn Sky five days earlier. Regulus owned it, so there was no trouble chartering it to take them back to the city. On the plus side, Leon was ‘only’ keeping a single one of his golems out of his soul realm—Nestor hadn’t let his guise slip for even a moment, and no one had questioned it so far—so there was far more room in the ark now than there was on the way to Antiochus.
On the negative side, they weren’t able to take the ark all the way into the city. They would have to park on a rented arkpad outside the city, and then take some arranged transport past the gatehouses into the city proper. If all went well, they’d blend in with the throngs of others attempting to enter the city for the festival that would start that afternoon, and Niam, Justin’s contact who was in charge of the gatehouse they were trying to get through, would allow them into the city with few questions.
Easy enough, in theory. It relied on someone Leon had never met, but Justin vouched for. Still, everyone but Regulus was given a disguise bracelet—even Nestor would be disguised so that no one who might’ve seen him on their way here would recognize him now—and activated them as they piled into Regulus’ transport.
As Leon activated his bracelet, he felt light magic settle around his face, turning his hair to the color of sand, darkening his skin slightly, and altering his facial features into unrecognizability. A glimpse of his face in the polished walls of the transport ark showed someone entirely new staring back at him, a man with features so unremarkable that when Leon turned his eyes upon everyone else, he almost immediately forgot what he now looked like.
Everyone else was similarly changed—covering up Valeria and Cassandra’s beauty was something of an egregious crime in Leon’s eyes, but for the sake of the mission, he accepted that they were now ‘average’. Better still, as the magic stilled into a perfect illusion, any sign that their facial features were anything other than natural faded. It would take serious dedication to notice that these were illusions, let alone unravel them, and though Leon was sure that Kamran’s palace had plenty of unexpected surprises, the information that Kamran’s architect had given Justin was used to make these disguises. He knew that they would work even against Kamran’s wards.
The ride was quiet, only broken by the few reminders that Regulus and Justin gave as the mission began. Leon sat and reviewed their plan in his head, going over everything that he knew about the city and palace, about where they were going and how they were going to get Ariana out. But as he sat feeling almost surprised at how calm he felt, he felt Valeria’s hand find his. Her fingers entwined with his and squeezed. He could feel in her clammy palm and shaking fingers that she was anxious as he was calm, and he squeezed her hand back, hoping to transfer some of his confidence to her.
It seemed to work at least somewhat, as when the ark slowed for their final approach, her shaking had at least subsided, even though he could still feel some cold sweat on her hand.
Once the ark touched down, it was a quick transfer to a pair of waiting wheelless carriages, with Leon, his wives, Justin, and Regulus in one, and Alcander, Zhang, Daryun, and Nestor in the other. The carriages were arks in all but name, though limited to hovering slightly off the ground rather than flying through the sky. They were at least completely sealed from the outside, keeping their group hidden from view until a window was opened. Even the drivers were outside, giving them complete privacy.
Leon used that privacy to stare out of the window as the last half dozen miles between the public arkpads and the city walls were crossed.
This far from the city, the buildings were a little more dispersed, but they were hardly passing through open countryside. This particular suburb had been heavily decorated for the upcoming festival, with colorful streamers and banners gently waving in the breeze, suspended over the streets. Along the sidewalks, food stands were already popping up, and in the squares they passed, Leon could see people starting to gather and music already playing.
The street leading to the guardhouse grew more and more crowded as they approached the gatehouse, and movement slowed the closer they drew to the gates. Leon thought that was perfectly reasonable and unremarkable until Regulus observed, “We should be moving faster. It shouldn’t take this long to process people coming into the city…”
“Precautions due to the increase in traffic?” Justin asked as Regulus activated an enchantment that projected a screen into the compartment and let them see the long line ahead of them. Dozens of guards were outside the monumental gates, and the gatehouse itself was more than large enough to contain hundreds more. Only one of the immense, magically reinforced doors was open, leading through the gatehouse and into the city on the other side.
“The line is still moving…” Justin noted. “We’ll find out what’s going on soon enough…”
Leon stifled a frown. As calm and confident as he was, it didn’t bode well that this operation had only just started, and they may have already run into their first complication…
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