Their party was soon to depart on foot to First Hope from Quadreign. When Argrave had gone there originally, he’d come with only Vasilisa and her personal companions. Now, he returned with a relatively vast force of spellcasters—well over four hundred, all expertly trained and with vast reservoirs of magic. On top of that, he’d secured Vasilisa, Vera, and Hegazar as steadfast allies. But rather unexpectedly…
Svetlana of Quadreign stood before Argrave, her bags packed. Another was by her—Ganbaatar. He had no such luggage, only his blades.
“You don’t want to stay with your mother?” Argrave asked Svetlana.
“Of course I do,” the woman responded at once. “But this is work. And work isn’t doing what you want, Your Majesty. My mother wants me to stay by your side and help you where I can.”
Argrave held his hand out to stop her from talking, then pointed to the white pile of hair atop his head. “I’ve got the wig on. Call me Silvaden,” he reminded her. “Well… alright. I can think of some things I could use you for. But you, Ganbaatar. You’re coming too?”
“I intend to depart shortly after we head back south. I think it would be best to travel with you for a brief while longer,” the elf nodded.
Argrave nodded. In truth, he did want to enlist the elf. Well, the journey was to be a long one… and doubly so when they first needed to find a way to transport a bear and over four hundred men and women. He turned away from Svetlana and looked out across his large force of spellcasters, newly acquired. They were a mismatched bunch, and uncoordinated… but nothing could be done. Each was potent enough to kill hundreds on their own, provided no other spellcaster interfered.
All these new spellcasters heeded Diana’s words, which in turn meant Vasilisa’s. The prospect of gaining access to the Flame of the Tenebrous Star was too appealing for them to show any disobedience. It was a relic of the legendary Queendom of Quadreign, a nation which only fell to Vasquer because of a betrayal. Some had benefitted personally from the flame in the past, yet others only knew legends. All knew it was returned, and all knew that Argrave had facilitated it. Still, none knew that he travelled among them. And he intended to keep it that way.
“Let’s move, then,” Argrave declared. “I’d like to get there quickly.”
#####
Bringing the spellcasters into First Hope was meant to intimidate the Drawnwaters into obedience to the new regime, yet it had other purposes as well. Argrave checked in with progress there, ensuring everything advanced as he wished. After, they secured passage on a boat, cutting through the North Sea to a settlement further south. As Argrave suspected, it was troublesome getting passage for a giant bear and four hundred men. They had to wait a day for a suitable vessel—a day which Anneliese reported slight changes to her body on account of her passive A-rank ascension. Still, they found a grand passenger ship, and with a high fare, they even allowed the bear on.
The voyage through the mild North Sea passed without trouble. Argrave had first considered walking, but sailing was faster by a large degree. Regardless, their destination was deep inland, and they made harbor at a small village which seemed miniscule before the ship they rode on. Nonetheless, travelling by boat for a small distance had saved them some days of marching.
After resting for a night at this village, they moved onward by Vasilisa’s order—in truth, Argrave was giving her these directions. Their destination was the hills of Vysenn. There, Argrave would finally make good on many promises—healing Elenore, healing Durran, and if it was possible, securing future healing for Elias and his sister. Vysenn was a little beyond where Elenore had reported their army made camp. It wasn’t the same inhospitable taiga that constituted most of Atrus—instead, it was extremely inhospitable, and almost impossible to enter in large numbers.
Vysenn was an extremely deceptive place. At its edges, one would see extreme vegetation—thriving plants, flowers, all in a great circle. The soil seemed fertile and rich, and able to house life in abundance. Yet deeper within, beyond the verdant hillsides, there was a stark black formation billowing smoke: a cinder cone, the remnants of a prior eruption from the active volcano beneath the ground. This volcano had not erupted for some time, though Gerechtigkeit would poke it with a stick and make it blow sometime later. As of now, it still emitted deadly gases that stagnated in the hills surrounding it, making traversing there all but impossible.
The active volcano did not make Vysenn so unique, though—Argrave had read about Cerro Negro and Kikhpinych, the two volcanoes that inspired this place. Such a geological formation was not so far diverged from that on earth. Its animals, on the other hand, had diverged far from normal evolutionary paths. And so had its people, Argrave might note.
Once the gigantic cinder cone was in sight, Argrave went to find Vasilisa at once. As soon as they were out of earshot, Argrave told her, “We should camp here.”
“Here?” Vasilisa looked to him as they walked and narrowed her eyes. “Everyone knows about this place, Ar—Silvaden. Barbarians roam the hills, the air itself kills you… I had hoped to give this place a wide berth. Food tastes worse drenched in poison gas.”
“Yeah, well, I have to meet some people,” Argrave nodded, slowing his pace. “I have to bring Elenore here, anyway. I figure, while we pass, I might… ingratiate myself with the locals. I can’t exactly roam as I please in this place, and there’s a culinary masterpiece that might raise my Michelin star rating if I put it on the menu. It’d be best if I get this out of the way now.”
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