Chapter 1: Enter Fools, Stage Right
Cyril Prodromus was not a superstitious man. In fact, one might even say that he was overly rational- The kind of person to scoff at believers in the Hydra God, or heckle optimists whenever he found the chance. Yet, something about this day seemed off to him.
Was it the depressing rain, drenching the pathetic city he found himself in? The everpresent haze surrounding New Lygos, smelling of age and sickness? Or was it some other, subtler problem? His Lancinite Mind had him on edge, but nothing obvious appeared to him. Pouring himself into those senses didn't reveal anything new- Just the few drenched stragglers on the street, and the sour notes of swill from the bar. It was just past noon, with barely anyone in this hag-forsaken hall, and Cyril couldn't wait to get moving.
With a long suffering sigh, he finally faced the person he had been ignoring. "So," he began, "The spring storms have been lasting for a few days. As I predicted. When can you finally get to work?"
With a flat huff, the merfolk next to him looked up from her notes. Giving an exaggerated shrug, she spread her hands apart and exclaimed, "When
we start the project doesn't depend on me, remember? I don't think we should be scaling ancient ruins when they are wet and slippery, and if we want to get in the usual way then we need to wait for our paperwork to be finished."
Cyril grumbled, "It's not unreasonable to stay safe, but I want to accomplish as much as we can while I have to stay in this hovel. For the love of all, there is no reason that they can't simply pretend to lose our documents again! If they try to inconvenience us one more time, I might need to escalate matters."
Unamused, azure eyes flicked back towards him, and she said, "Not again Cyril, I had enough of your 'help' while we were still in school. We can afford to take our time- I don't want you getting all stabby again."
She raised her pen again, only to shoot another look his way. "And I mean it. Don't threaten anyone, the country hicks out here can only delay us for so long. I've had to deal with idiots my whole life, and we can't afford to lose this job."
Mood thoroughly ruined, Cyril flipped open a book. Flavia was a good friend- But her brutish approach to conversations never got easier.
After many more hours of diligent scribbling, some company finally arrived. The door to the inn swung open, the hardy oak soaked with the frigid rain, and two figures in feathered cloaks pushed themselves inside.
After a moment of wary scrutiny, one raised his hood to reveal greasy silver hair over a bony face, the man announcing, "I have come to deliver a message. Are you Cyril Prodromus and Flavia Meloda?"
Untangling from the comfortable nook he had set himself into, Cyril jumped in before Flavia could say anything, remarking, "Yes! And we are quite glad to hear of some news!"
The green eyed soldier's gaze slid between the two of them, gliding smoothly over Flavia, before he finally responded. "Unfortunately," he began, "The mayor of New Lygos has denied your work permits. They are willing to send a letter explaining the matter to the University of Acropolita, but-"
His limp explanation was cut short by Flavia flinging the papers off her desk and pushing over the chair, her hands twitching to begin the rhythms of her casting. The two men prepared their swords, but didn't draw- Despite himself, Cyril was impressed. Most guards were content to escalate matters, especially when it concerned demihumans.
Finishing her stride, Flavia gestured at the lead man's chest, proclaiming, "There is absolutely no way that they really mean that! Our school has a longstanding relationship with New Lygos, and to refuse us is to poison that well! Don't they appreciate the extra funds?!"
The man looked even less happy about that, responding, "I assure you Ms. Melodia, this is a quite rare circumstance. The university will understand once they read the letter."
Much to Cyril's alarm, he noticed that Flavia was beginning to speak in beat, as she yelled, "Oh, don't give me that! This is taurdrops, and you know it! This study is vital, and I refuse to obey some dodgy bureaucrat!"
Grabbing a hold of the merfolk's shoulders, Cyril forced out a laugh, saying, "Come now. These men are just doing their jobs! This isn't their fault." Letting out a wink at the tired soldier who had been leading the conversation, he pressed the attack.
"Although, it would be helpful if you could tell us a little more about what's going on."
He stared at his opponent, vibrant green boring into muddy green, and he could tell the moment he had won.
With a sigh, the soldier explained, "I wish it were that simple. On the latest expedition, a danger was found within the ruins of Lygos. It is not just your group- Everyone has been evacuated from the old city, and no one is allowed to enter until the governor arrives. I assure you- This is not personal."
Well then, Cyril thought, that changed matters. However, it seemed like the details were supposed to be a secret- But clearly this man knew what was going on, no matter how much professionalism he painted over his demeanor.
Pulling on his powers, Cyril tried to puzzle out what he could from the scene. Both men had matching elegant armor, a clearly expensive item- Yet, it was dull and scratched. The second man was clearly a nobody, staying silent throughout this whole conversation. But the first man… There was death in his eyes, a discordant huskiness to his voice. His skin was fair and scarless, but his body was well muscled. A noble? Disgraced, undercover, or warlike? Cyril would have to wait and see.
As the two soldiers left the common area, Cyril turned back towards Flavia, wryly remarking, "Well, whatever happened to dealing with it calmly?"
With a snort, she grumbled, "These hagheads were going to ruin everything for us! Delays are one thing, but if we can't do the study then we will lose the grant. We need to try and convince the mayor to let us stay tomorrow. There must surely be something we can do!"
After an expectant pause, she sighed, "And you should finish unpacking your knives."
Night had fallen, and the two scholars had retreated to their rooms. Flavia had no desire to meet any locals who frequented the tavern, and Cyril had some herbal remedies he needed to apply to his blades.
As he wiped down his main weapon, a jagged ivory dagger ensconced in blue crocodile leather, his thoughts turned towards the next day. If the danger was something simple, then they could avoid it- All their sponsored study required was ambient shroud analysis, nothing too demanding. Even if it was a more mobile threat, the two of them still wouldn't be helpless.
He was fairly skilled in unfair fights, and had the abilities to set them up- And with Flavia's Living Assault of Summer Rain, any fight he saw coming would be one that she could win. The only problem would be an intelligent enemy, but all non-humanoids inside the mist were driven to insanity. Alas, there was only so much theorycrafting he could do before harvesting more information. Even if the mayor was intolerant of them, he might be able to sniff out something interesting.
Lying back in bed that night, his mind drifted further into the future. When Flavia had found this study, he had protested- There was nothing to do in the shadow of Old Lygos, and the data collection would take months. He was sure that he could have found a better way to earn the money they needed… But he didn't. And now he was stuck here, doing his damndest to help his best friend while wasting the countless opportunities he could have found on the continent.
As his thoughts turned to the maudlin, his skill began to scream at him. Something was changing, something closer than before, and something he could see- Bolting to his window, he beheld a light falling across the night sky.
Clouds were cleaved in two, the wispy strands fighting for cohesion, and raindrops began to plink off the structure even as it coalesced before his unbelieving eyes. A firm and translucent Hagsbane Gold, the shape now covered the whole horizon. Wrenching the window open and leaning out on the frame, he confirmed his suspicions- It didn't just cut off the nearest horizon, it appeared to be encircling the entire island!
Taxing his vision to its limits, he peered at the highly advanced runes dancing across the surface, and the unbroken gloss- There were only a few people in the world who could have done this, and the name at the top of his list was Basilius Tzimiskes, the provincial governor. Damn, he had been expecting a lesser governor to handle this, what could have happened to make a war hero turn his gift on the island?!
A few moments later, Flavia raced through his door and joined him at the window in disbelief. Still a little dazed from sleep, she mumbled, "It is going all the way up! I think clouds will start forming inside it eventually, but I could feel the barrier shoving everything out of the way! What kind of monstrous strength is this?"
Before Cyril even had a chance to respond, a booming voice echoed throughout the area, seemingly coming from the very air itself.
In a loud, brass tone it declared, "Under the authority of the governor, New Lygos is now under martial law! No one may enter, and no one may leave! There will be an emergency council meeting at midnight, in the manor's villa. Citizens are to remain calm and in their homes. The situation is under control, in the capable hands of the Governor Tzimiskes! I repeat, the situation is under control, and citizens should return to their slumber!"
Martial law? Complete quarantine? And a mysterious danger in Lygos? The situation was certainly not under control, and Cyril saw a prime opportunity. Turning back to Flavia, he declared, "Get dressed in the nicest clothes you have, and ready our documents. We have two hours before we crash this meeting, and I'll be damned if we waste it."
My first piece of writing in a while, I am going to try to update every few days, to a week at most. Let me know if there are any SPAG problems, or if any of the info is too confusing/dense- I can also explain non-spoiler setting details if any of you are curious.
