Chapter Text
“Sir, the envoy from Indol has arrived.”
“Great, get over here,” Mikhail called back, less so for the soldier and more for the envoy. He was in a random hallway of the battleship and had no time for formalities. Considering how people from Indol often were, the more casual manner of address was a risk but one that Mikhail was more than willing to take.
His attention slid back to a broken pipe he was repairing. It wasn’t actually all that important, but he needed something to do with his hands to calm his nerves. Cressidus was out getting the soldiers and civilians to where they needed to be, while he was staying on the ship to plan. Very quickly, he’d realized that he much preferred making plans when it was just him and Cressidus wandering around Alrest; now that other people’s lives could end under their judgement, it was a lot less fun and a lot more stressful.
“So you’re the inquisitor guy?”
Mikhail was immediately intrigued by both the newcomer’s voice and her choice of words; there was perhaps not a less Indol-ish way of starting a conversation. Still, his soldiers had confirmed that Praetor Vandham did indeed send the envoy over a few days prior. Strange as this was, it was probably fine and Mikhail had no desire to be caught in the cesspool of Indoline politics.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he simply said, leaving the broken pipe and turning to face the visitor.
There wasn’t all that much to see; a thick white cloak covered her head and body, save for a pale face with golden eyes. Given her accent and the way her cloak clasped over her chest, Mikhail was willing to bet she was a Blade in disguise. He’d spent far too much time hiding his own to not suspect the rather pathetic disguise. Still, he wouldn’t pry. Probably.
“Huh. Why are you fixing the pipes if you’re so important?”
“It’s a hobby. Interested?”
“Not at all.”
“Ouch. That hurts,” he whined, though in truth he was used to the cold response. Dealing with completely uninterested women was second nature to him. “While you’re here, why not make yourself at home? Take off that cloak and show off your pretty face?”
The envoy shuddered and pulled the cloak tighter. “No way.”
“Yeah, that’s about what I expected. What do you need?”
“Um, you can’t just act like… that didn’t happen and move on-”
“No need to be so frosty, miss envoy. I happen to have a soft spot for Blades in disguise.”
…And there went the whole thing about not prying. Oops.
The Blade gasped, clutching the fabric of her long cloak so closely to her chest that Mikhail could see the lower fabric pressing against the curves of her waist. It was kind of hot but if he commented on it, Zeke would probably fire him. Thankfully, Cressidus was standing behind him and the Blade was used to running damage control.
“Dont worry about it!” Cressidus said cheerily. “Mik’s actually more likely to listen to a Blade than an Indoline politician anyway.”
The envoy sighed. “Thanks, I guess. Can we just talk without him?”
Cressidus beamed at her. “Nope! Mik needs to do his job so we get paid.”
Mikhail decided to cut in before Cressidus pointed out why they needed money. (Some high-end Ardainian shop was rerunning their old line of Tornan warship action figures.) “It’s not just about the money. But in any case, it’s true that we need to get to business. What do you need?”
“Uh, I’m looking for someone. Praetor Vandham said two of the people you captured earlier were traveling with the guy.”
“So this is a personal errand? Not to be rude, because this does sound interesting, but we have a major threat loose on the Titan right now. I can try to prevent any ships from leaving Gormott until this is resolved, but that’s all that I can do for you.”
“But-! Actually, wait, it’s not all personal!” The envoy appeared to belatedly remember that she was in fact working on behalf of an entire country. Strange. Also unprofessional, which was intriguing. Whoever this person was, she was probably less emblematic of the Praetorium than even Indol’s youngest children. “Vandham wants the guy dead too.”
“Funny,” Mikhail remarked, “this sounds more like an alliance of convenience than anything… not that I mind it. Is Indol really loosening up?”
“I guess so. I, uh, haven’t actually spent much time there, though.”
“Hm. Good for the praetor. In my opinion this is long overdue. But anyway, who am I supposed to let you kill?”
“Some Indoline guy. His name’s Amalthus or something.”
Mikhail’s smile froze on his face. “Amalthus? Here?”
“Yeah, or at least we think so.”
He knew the name Amalthus too well; despite hardly knowing the name’s bearer, it spent plenty of time haunting his dreams. If Amalthus was here-
Suddenly, a door slammed open as an Ardainian soldier dashed in. “Sir! I have urgent news to report!”
Mikhail ran his hands through his hair. Were there not enough urgent matters at hand here?
“Alright!” Cressidus chimed with his usual upbeat tone. “Fill us in!”
“As requested, we kept an eye on the consul. She left the ship five minutes ago and her current whereabouts are unknown.”
Mikhail’s forced smile twisted into a grimace. Maybe he should’ve locked her in his office instead of trusting her to address the Aegis issue like an adult . “She left? Really? So we have Amalthus and two Aegises running around Gormott?”
“Two?” The soldier and envoy said at the same time.
“Don't worry!” Cressidus said to them, “Mik can’t count!”
…Mikhail was never letting Cressidus run damage control for him again.
“I- never mind that,” he snapped. “If anyone sees Pyra, let me know. The same goes for the Blade with a silver Core Crystal or Amalthus.”
His eyes turned to the envoy. “You sure you wanna keep going after Amalthus?”
She nodded. “Uh, yeah. It’s the only thing- uh, it’s my job.”
“Well- ” the trademark Mikhail grin slid back onto his face as naturally as breathing, “ -if you say so. But be careful; I’d hate to see your pretty face get all banged up.”
Her hands went up to make sure her hood was still in place. “Wh- you haven’t even seen my face!”
“But I’m sure it’s gorgeous.”
Mikhail himself seemed to be the only person present who wasn’t calmed in the slightest by his antics. In fact, he was starting to consider just sailing back to Mor Ardain with the captives before things had a chance to go wrong.
Suddenly, a second door slammed open. “Sir! I have urgent news to report!”
Mikhail gave up on hiding his annoyance. “Fine. What is it?”
“The ship’s primary steam pumps appear to have been slashed open, sir. The engineers say that until it’s fixed, sailing anywhere would be really risky-”
“Wait.” Mikhail took a deep breath. “Don’t fix it just yet. I think-”
“Sir!” The first door flew open again and in Mikhail’s eyes it was as if the third horseman of the Ardainian apocalypse ran in. “I have urgent news to report!”
“Of course. Go on.”
“A Blade with a silver Core Crystal is outside! She says that we’ve stolen her Blade.”
“Already…? Fine. We can make this work. You!” His eyes bored into the most recent arrival. “You're someone important; a captain or something, right?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Evacuate every soldier on this ship. Send them wherever, just make sure they’re all gone.”
“Um… alright, sir.”
“And do it quickly . You, uh… second guy. The one who came from the engine room.”
The soldier in question stood at attention. “Yes?”
“Go to the engineers and tell them to leave the ship as is. Have them evacuate with the others and do not fix anything. The ship needs to stay in critical condition.”
“But sir-”
“Go. Now. And you,” Mikhail turned to the first soldier, “you’re familiar with the flying devices here, yeah?”
“The Falz units?”
“Yep, them. Get three ready for travel and remove the rest. I don’t care if you fly them away, wreck the machinery, or kill the Titans but we need exactly three.”
“Yes, sir!”
Mikhail turned to the remaining two in the room; Cressidus and the envoy. “Those three Titan ships will be our escape vehicles. They aren’t meant for long distance flights so don’t go on a joyride. Though if miss envoy wants a joyride, I can-”
Cressidus tapped on his shoulder. “You sure you wanna finish that sentence, Mik?”
“Oh, come on, that was smooth! Don’t be so harsh, Cressidus. But fine, I’ll stay on topic. Miss envoy, you have free reign over the ship. Try to keep anyone far from the bridge. And look for Amalthus. You know what to do with him.”
She tilted her head to the side, causing a lock of golden hair to fall from her hood. “Huh? Why would Amalthus be here?”
“I don’t know, but he always shows up when things go to hell. Just trust me, yeah?”
“Fine, fine.”
“Cressidus, go talk with the Aegis. Make sure he gets on the ship; You can even lead him to Dromarch if that’s what he wants. Just… don’t stand too close.”
His Blade nodded. “Okay, Mik. But what about you?”
“I’ll be managing things at the bridge. Good luck.”
He walked off, raising a hand in an attempt to brush back the envoy’s hair on the way. She swatted his hand away, sadly. Ignoring the slight sting, he ran the gloved hand over the railing of a nearby staircase. This ship was truly a marvel in both technology and design.
It would be a shame to send it down to Morytha, but it was a small sacrifice to pay. Mikhail could not allow the Aegis to roam Alrest freely again.
————
When the Ardainian battleships’ cannons swung towards Nia, she fully expected to be fighting for her life. That was kind of the plan; she’d broken the town’s water tower using her talent with water as a signal before picking a fight with the Ardainians under the guise of wanting to save Dromarch. That way Sever and Amalthus would get their distraction and nobody would realize that they were really trying to free Mòrag. Everything seemed to be working as intended… only the battleship wasn’t actually firing at her and it hadn’t been for a good five minutes.
Suddenly a large shape flew into the air and Nia readied her scimitar while raising an ether barrier. The cannonball slammed into the ground in front of her with a massive boom and enough force to make dust and shards of metal fly into the air and ricochet off her barrier.
Then the dust cleared and the cannonball stood up.
“Hey there! Are you an Aegis?”
Nia took a step back as the massive Blade she’d mistaken for a cannonball rose to his feet. He was tall, with a wide, muscular frame to match his booming voice. Bright blue ether lines ran across his bare chest and arms, running up to a red mane and golden mask. In the fading twilight, the glowing lines and eyes stood out from the bulky shape of his body, leading to an image that was a little frightening and a little impressive.
“Stay calm,” the voice in her head supplied unhelpfully.
“Go back to sleep,” she muttered in reply before turning to the Blade. “Yeah, I’m the Aegis. Are you gonna give my Blade back or what?”
“Cool!” the Blade said with an unusual amount of cheer while ignoring her question entirely. “I’m Cressidus!”
Nia frowned. That name sounded familiar. Wasn’t that…
“Wait,” she blurted out, ether barrier flickering as her ears shot up, “Sever’s boyfriend? That Cressidus?”
Cressidus’ slow advance stopped entirely as he blinked. “What? Who told you that?”
Amalthus had; they’d been teasing Sever over the unlikely friendship earlier that day. So, with all the smug confidence in the world, Nia straightened up, looked Cressidus in the eyes, and said “Sever.”
“Huh? He did?” Cressidus seemed completely lost for a moment, seemingly filing away the information for later. “Well, uh, wow! Okay. But anyway, you want your Blade back, right?”
“Yeah,” Nia said simply. She’d been planning on taking the role of the mythical and malevolent Aegis to get a fight started faster, but it felt really awkward to even imagine using the persona in front of Sever’s maybe-boyfriend.
“Alright! Come with me and I’ll take you to him!”
“Oh, thanks- Wait, what? Really?”
“Yep! I ran it by Mik and he said it was fine. Though he did say you were a guy. I don’t think it matters, though. An Aegis is an Aegis, right?”
Nia’s eyes widened. Though the voice in her mind was silent, she could tell he had definitely not gone back to sleep and was perhaps more awake than ever. “Who exactly is this Mik guy?”
“Oh, my Driver! He’s great. I don’t know if you’d like him though. He’s an… acquired taste.”
And with that, Cressidus was walking back into the ship, clearly expecting her to follow. Was this really enough of a distraction for Sever and Amalthus? She debated attacking Cressidus to really get things started, but with his back turned to her and his friendly attitude she felt she’d die from guilt and her life wasn’t worth this whole distraction thing. With a sigh, she resigned herself to following after Cressidus and hoping Sever could make things work without the big distraction she’d promised.
“Hey, Aegis. You’ve got a name, right?”
“Yeah, it’s Nia. Don’t get it mixed up, big guy.”
“Okay! So Nia, did you break the water tower just now? Mik said an Aegis did it.”
“Yep. So what?” Her grip tightened on the scimitar despite her nonchalant tone. Maybe she’d be providing a distraction after all.
Cressidus looked back at her without stopping, twin blue orbs gleaming below his helmet. “Awesome! Knocking that over would be tricky even for me! You must be really strong.”
…Oh. How Sever managed to befriend this guy was a mystery to Nia. Maybe opposites really did attract? “Uh, thanks. I mean, I can do a lot of fancy tricks with water, so it wasn’t actually that hard.”
“Woah, is that why you’re an Aegis?”
“I… um, maybe? What kind of question is that?”
“Questions have different categories?” Confused, Cressidus slowed to a stop beside an equally confused Nia. “Well, anyway, your Blade’s in the room ahead. It was nice meeting you, Nia!”
She sighed, taking a long look at the hall before her. It was long and rather nondescript with a large metal door at the end. She hadn’t really expected to come face-to-face with Dromarch so soon, but now that she was here it felt like she needed to keep moving forward. Besides, she was an Aegis; Dromarch wouldn’t really pose a threat to her anyway.
Still, the dimly lit corridor felt ominous and uninviting enough for her to consider turning back.
“You all good, Nia?” Cressidus asked innocently.
“Yeah. It’s just… been a while.”
“Alright! Well, I’ll leave you to it. It’s not my place to interrupt a reunion, right?”
The words would have sounded taunting if they had come from anyone else’s mouth, but Nia couldn’t find an ounce of sarcasm in Cressidus’ words, nor could she find it in herself to offer up a farewell to the Blade’s receding footsteps. She waited for a moment, hoping that Sever would show up with Mòrag, Amalthus, and Brighid to tell her that they’d gotten the job done and it was time to leave. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort happened. The only trace of her companions was the lingering echoes of Amalthus’ voice in her mind, asking when it would be time for her to face Dromarch- her Blade, left alone and forced to live for centuries for no good reason.
She took a step forward, then another. Suddenly, her ears picked up the creaking of machinery, and then she jumped as a thick gate crashed down behind her. There was no sign of anyone else nearby; had it been remotely activated? Another sharp hiss sounded from behind her, causing her to spin and face the source of the noise.
Dromarch’s cell door was rising. Had this been Cressidus’ plan from the start? Trapping her in the battleship with her Blade? Maybe he was a better actor and a better fit for Sever than she’d given him credit for.
As Nia caught sight of large white paws pacing behind the door, she clenched her weapon tighter. One way or another, her Blade’s isolation would end here.
————
“Why is it so empty?” Amalthus murmured as they passed by another empty cell.
He and Sever had planned on being more subtle, but when they found the ship to be empty, they’d wound up breaking every cell door they found open. The tactic had led to a few violent criminals being released, but none were a problem Sever’s tonfa couldn’t solve. As they had in Leftheria, they silently agreed to not mention the bodies in their wake to the others and continued on. Luckily, the vast majority of cells were simply empty.
“No clue,” Sever said, gathering wind around his tonfa and slashing another empty cell open. “But it works out fine.”
“And yet you sound displeased.”
“I mean, yeah. I was expecting a fight.”
Amalthus rolled his eyes in amusement, though he chose to say nothing. Sever’s tonfa came down on yet another door and-
“Hey Amalthus, over here. We got one.”
Amalthus walked over curiously, only to deflate slightly upon seeing Brighid. It wasn’t that he minded being in the Blade’s presence, but with Nia as Mòrag’s Blade, Brighid seemed to be more of a liability than anything; an extra body that could throw his plans off course. Though given how close Mòrag and Brighid were, he’d likely have needed to find both to convince either to leave anyway.
“Well, this is a surprise,” Brighid mused, gracefully getting to her feet and stepping around the shattered door. “I must confess that I expected you both to proceed without us.”
“We could hardly do such a thing,”Amalthus responded. “Our fates have long been intertwined. Now, do you know where your Driver is being kept?”
“No, but I am familiar with this ship,” Brighid replied. “Perhaps I can hazard a guess or two as soon as I become oriented with my surroundings. For now, you should proceed as you were.”
“Sounds good,” Sever said, “just let me know when I should break a door down.”
With that, the Blade walked ahead; doubtlessly he was bored of the formalities and was hoping to find someone worth fighting.
“Did I miss anything important?” Brighid asked Amalthus.
He took a moment to think; there was Nia’s reluctance to deal with Dromarch and his recent talk with Sever, but those weren’t things he needed to share. Furthermore, Brighid was a Blade that had consistently seemed dependent on her Driver; her actions in combat were done in tandem with Mòrag, and her conversations seemed to be chosen to support her Driver as well. As such, it stood to reason that Amalthus was truly being asked to share if anything worth relaying to Mòrag had occurred.
"What little has happened since your capture can be explained when we return to the ship.”
“I see. Perhaps that’s a good thing; it will allow Lady Mòrag to return to searching for her brother more quickly, as well as her goal of returning Nia to the World Tree. Though I understand you too have been to the top of the World Tree. Why do you think Nia wants to return there?”
“Her reasons are her own, or perhaps even the Architect’s. I cannot speak on her behalf just yet. But given the past actions of the Aegis, she may seek a continued exile or some sort of redemption.”
“That may be true. I suppose I find myself worried for her, that’s all.”
“For Nia?”
“Yes. While the journal I keep is doubtlessly incomparable to truly living for centuries, I believe that it allows me to understand if not experience the burden of such long lives. While it hasn’t been long enough to tell for sure, I do think Mòrag may not realize the strain on Nia. Perhaps I should address the matter with her later.”
An interesting spark of agency. Amalthus found himself intrigued with the Blade for the first time in a while. “Has Mòrag had issues in the past with compassion?”
“No, far from it. She may not always show her emotions, but this is a recent development. I’d assume she is simply distracted.”
“By her worry for young Niall.”
“Precisely.”
“That is understandable, I suppose. It stands to reason that such a loss would be troubling to Mòrag. But I have faith in her ability to learn from this experience and wish you both luck going forward.”
“Architect knows we all need it,” Brighid muttered, drawing a small chuckle from Amalthus.
“Indeed.”
“Try that door,” Brighid suddenly said to Sever, motioning at a nondescript cell door. There wasn’t much to say about it in Amalthus’ eyes, and certainly not anything to separate it from the others, but it seemed his only option was to trust the Blade’s intuition.
With a single blow from Sever’s tonfa, the door crumpled to reveal Mòrag, surprised but unharmed.
She immediately headed to Brighid’s side, though not without a quick look of gratitude to Sever. “Thank you all. I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure if you’d come, and I certainly didn’t expect a rescue this soon.”
Amalthus noted the similarity between Mòrag’s words and what Brighid had said. The influence Drivers had on Blades was already a familiar concept to him, but he was nevertheless willing to observe the Architect’s creations at work. He said nothing on the topic, though. Now wasn’t the time to raise such topics, and perhaps in his current company there would indeed be no such time.
“There was no reason to wait,” he said simply. “I trust that you are satisfied with this outcome?”
“Yes, absolutely. If I had to spend another minute with that Mikhail…” Mòrag trailed off as Brighid placed a hand on her arm. Clearly this was the Blade’s attempt at derailing what would doubtlessly be some less-than-kind opinions.
“We ought to meet up with Nia and get out,” Sver said.
Amalthus nodded. “Indeed, though we should be careful. Threats may still be present on the battleship.”
“Yes, we should be wary on our way out,” Brighid added. “The ship has been unusually empty. Surely Mikhail has some sort of plan.”
“Unlikely,” Mòrag scoffed, “it’s far more likely that the coward heard of an Aegis and ran.”
Amalthus wondered what this Mikhail person was like. He’d heard the man’s name and knew he was the Special Inquisitor, but the vitriol in Mòrag’s every word - especially the word Mikhail - was interesting. It was also a bit concerning; he couldn’t imagine what kind of person would elicit such a reaction from Mòrag of all people. Surely some of the anger stemmed from seeing someone in her old position, but there was surely more to it.
“Hold on a sec,” Sever said hesitantly, “Is it just me or did the ship just move?”
“It does seem to be moving,” Mòrag replied. “Does that man plan to ship us back to Mor Ardain?”
“If so,” Brighid said, “he won’t make it in time. We’d reach the bridge with more than enough time to stop him if that is truly his plan.”
Sever tapped his foot impatiently. His claws made a soft ringing sound as they hit the metal floor, drawing Amalthus’ attention. “Just forget I said anything. Where this ship is going doesn’t matter if we get back to ours quick enough.”
“A fair point,” Mòrag conceded. “I am familiar with this ship’s layout. Follow me.”
They had only moved a few rooms before being stopped. The exits were blocked, only…
“Is that… ether?” Brighid took a curious step toward the harsh yellow light covering the doorway.
“It seems to be,” Amalthus mused, walking over to take a closer look. “Given the color and the movement of the particles, it seems to be akin to the ether used by Blades of the light element. But Indol’s registry has no record of any such Blades in Mor Ardain. Has the Empire been keeping one without authorization?”
“No, we have not hidden any Blades from the Praetorium.”
“Of course. Forgive me for the tasteless question. Estranged from the Praetorium as I may be, my habits as a quaestor have persisted.”
“There’s no need to apologize. Mòrag and I feel the same, I think.”
“Perhaps Zeke brought in an unregistered Blade?” Mòrag asked. “That seems like something he would do.”
“Where would the wayward prince of Tantal even find a Blade like that? It’s counterproductive to blame everything on him, Lady Mòrag.”
“…So, how do we dispel this ether field?”
Amalthus frowned. “I’m not sure. This is most unusual. If it is being upheld by the Blade, we could try to find it.”
“I do wonder if they’re working independently of Mikhail,” Brighid said, casting a nervous glance at Mòrag when she said Mikhail’s name. “After all, the doors can be closed remotely. There’s really no need for this makeshift barrier. In any case, Sever and I should perhaps try to dispel it before we hunt for an unknown Blade.”
Amalthus nodded, turning around just in time to see a bright flash. When it subsided, Sever was holding an ether barrier of his own over them. Brighid had done the same for Mòrag. A cloaked Blade stood on the other end of the room, wielding a large white-and-gold sword. In other circumstances, Amalthus would’ve admired the Architect’s craftsmanship. Unfortunately, the imminent threat made it hard to admire the weapon.
“That sword,” Brighid gasped, “is that…”
“The Blade from Leftheria,” Mòrag finished grimly. Raising her voice, she addressed the newcomer. “I don’t know what Mikhail told you, but we mean you no harm.”
Brighid too spoke to the Blade. “Yes, leave now and we’ll be happy to leave you alone.”
Amalthus watched curiously. From Brighid’s words and the way the other Blade’s hand tightened around the hilt of their sword, there was clearly something he was missing. He didn’t like that; a lack of information was a greater danger than any weapon. Perhaps they had fought during the others’ trip to Fonsett? Or maybe when he was confronted by the Origo man?
“This matter does not concern you,” Mòrag continued, “and we have done you no harm.”
Finally, the Blade spoke. “You think you’re really clever, huh? Because it wasn’t me that you hurt?”
Amalthus didn’t know what she was talking about, and from the looks on his companions’ faces, they didn’t either.
“Has she lost her mind?” Brighid muttered, thankfully too quietly for the Blade to hear.
“Well, fine. Be clever all you want. But you won’t be all high and mighty soon…”
Sparks danced up the Blade’s cloak. Mòrag took half a step back. “How is she doing that? Isn’t she a light Blade?”
Amalthus’ face set in a grim frown. “Just as the light from the sun scalds those under its gaze, light ether can be hot as any flame and arid as any desert. But to concentrate that light to such a degree… this Blade must possess immense power.”
“She wasn’t anything special back in Leftheria,” Brighid remarked. “What could have possibly changed in such a short time?”
At once, the Blade’s cloak burnt away, revealing blond locks of hair, blazing golden eyes, and a Core Crystal. She raised her sword. The crystal in the weapon’s hilt was a harsh red.
Brighid moved in front of her Driver. “Lady Mòrag. Look at that Core Crystal.”
“That color,” Mòrag gasped, “it’s like blood.”
“Incredible,” Amalthus murmured, “A pure red crystal. How Judicium would have rejoiced at the sight of this…”
“You,” the Flesh Eater hissed, “Amalthus. The Praetor told me what you did.”
Amalthus blinked in legitimate surprise. “Vandham? What did he…?”
“You killed him. You killed my Driver.”
Oh. Oh no. Suddenly Amalthus could guess exactly who this was, and with Mòrag’s curious eyes turning to him he had no time to think. There was but a second to come up with something, anything, to convince her of his innocence before they all turned on him.
“I’m afraid Praetor Vandham has lied to you,” Amalthus said coldly. “I have never met you or your Driver before.”
“No,” it snarled back at him with the cold fury of the Architect’s machines. “He saw you do it.”
“Blade-”
“I believe her name is Mythra,” Mòrag supplied.
“Mythra. Do you truly believe the Praetorium would treat a Flesh Eater such as yourself with respect? Vandham has lied to you and twisted your final wish for his own purposes. How long do you have before, at his behest, your Ardainian allies deliver you to Indol in chains? Surely you do not trust them.”
“They wouldn’t- Vandham wouldn't do that. He’s the Praetor; it’s his job to help people.”
Amalthus lowered his voice so only his allies could hear him. “It appears her naivete outweighs her common sense. What a pity, that Vadham would so cruelly use such a lost soul for his own gains.”
Mòrag nodded. “Indeed. But we have no time to spare. For our survival and the sake of our allies, we must push through this Blade and escape.”
“Well said,” Amalthus replied, “If it so pleases him, I would ask Sever to aid you.”
Sever chuckled slowly. “Sure. I’m ready to put this behind us.”
Mòrag spoke again. “Amalthus. It’s you that she’s after. I mean no offense, but I think you should flee. Try to find Nia and send her here.”
“I trust your judgement,” Amalthus replied, turning away from them all. “Good luck.”