Chương 38: Book 2 - Chapter 1

The first thing Noah noticed when they stepped onto the street outside the tavern was how clean everything was. All around him, the streets were paved with grey stone that somehow seemed to repel dirt. Dray beasts clopped along in the early morning light, farmers from the outlying areas trudged past in mud‑caked boots, and tradespeople carried supplies up and down the busy thoroughfare. Yet despite all of this, the streets remained pristine.

"We should get going before the crowds form. You heard the tavern owner — Petitioner's Day is always busy," the elderly Fae man ahead of him said. Noah took a moment to study him. The man wore a brown travelling cloak with the hood pulled low to hide the long ears that marked him as Fae. His pale skin was deeply lined, but his sharp blue eyes betrayed a mind still very much awake. Beneath the cloak he wore an unassuming beige shirt, brown trousers, and black leather boots.

A casual onlooker could easily mistake him for a kindly old man incapable of harming a fly. Little do they know he could carve his way through half the people on this street if he wanted — and I doubt anyone could stop him, Noah thought, remembering Ken's combat skills all too well. Beside him stood a younger Fae woman. She was dressed similarly, but she'd pulled her hood even lower and wrapped her cloak tighter than her father, hiding her pink hair and golden eyes from the crowd.

The motion made the garment cling to her for a moment, revealing her fertility‑goddess curves — a sight that immediately dragged Noah's mind back to the previous night. Skin on skin. Grasping hands. The memory tugged a small smile onto his face.

"We are in the outer ring," Ciri said without looking up.

"The closest gate to the middle ring is three hundred meters to the left. From there, we follow the curve of the wall another twelve hundred meters to reach the inner ring."

"Let's get going then," Noah replied, brushing his unruly mop of dark brown hair out of his face. In the months since he'd fallen through the portal into Tenebrae, he'd undergone a minor transformation. He'd put significant muscle onto his 1. 9‑meter frame, building on the foundation he'd earned through years of gym visits. His brown stubble was manageable enough, but his hair had grown long enough to be a nuisance. Are barbers a thing here?

I should get a haircut, he mused as Ciri took his hand and they moved into the crowd. His bright green eyes darted around, drinking in everything. Stone‑and‑wood markets, taverns, workshops, and homes — all alive with activity despite the early hour. The scene reminded him of Tarn's Reach, the bustling industrial city they'd passed through, and the comparison made him frown.

"Ken, I have a question."

"Yes?" Ken didn't turn around.

"Yesterday you said humans maintained a lot of the original Fae infrastructure, which is why this place doesn't smell or make noise."

"Correct."

"How? Based on what you, Ciri, and Hannah told me, humans have a pretty rudimentary grasp of magic."

"The royal family bargained with the Winter and Summer Fae," Ken explained.

"They offered favorable trade agreements, political concessions, and vast natural resources in exchange for the knowledge required to maintain Crownspire."

"Why don't they use that knowledge in Tarn's Reach then?" Noah asked as they passed an open‑air market where vendors were already hawking their wares.

"I'm sure the folks there would appreciate a city that doesn't smell like oil and sound like an angry blacksmith dual‑wielding hammers." Ken chuckled beneath his hood.

"The Fae empires gave them enough knowledge to maintain the city, but not enough to recreate it. When things break more fundamentally, they cannot repair them." Held together by duct tape and paperclips, Noah thought. With that new understanding, he looked at the city differently. He spotted an alleyway where dirt had begun to accumulate — the enchantment on the road clearly broken.

As they reached the gate, he glanced up at one of the inner‑city towers: tall, impractical, beautiful, and impossible to build without magic. Its elegant curve was now supported by wooden scaffolding. Ken followed his gaze and shook his head.

"A perfect example. That once housed one of the great Fae families. Now it's like a beautiful woman with a bandage on her forehead." Realizing he was drawing attention by staring, Noah turned away and walked through the gate into the middle ring. The enormous stone archway loomed overhead, its iron‑bonded gates flung wide. A half‑dozen guards in double‑breasted forest‑green coats with white armbands flanked the entrance, watching the crowd with wary eyes.

Determined to return later for a closer look, Noah squeezed Ciri's hand.

"How do you know where we're going? Did you study a map while I wasn't paying attention?"

"No. During the latter stages of the war against the portal creature, the ancient Fae modified all their cities to share the same layout," she said.

"Three concentric rings of walls, with the entrances offset to slow attackers. Critical infrastructure and government buildings are always within the innermost ring."

"Critical infrastructure," Noah repeated, gears turning.

"Like spell towers with mysterious runes on the floor — like the one I woke up in?"

"Precisely." He scanned the skyline until he spotted the grey stone tower rising above the rest.

"Let's go see it after we're done with the king and queen." She nodded as they moved through the quieter streets of the middle ring. The people here were dressed for social outings or knowledge‑based work rather than manual labor. Unlike the outer ring, several passersby openly watched the trio as they walked. The buildings reflected the shift in social class. Ancient Fae structures melded with human construction, often in jarring ways.

At one point, Noah passed a two‑story grey stone house with gas braziers bolted to the exterior and gaudy bronze griffon statues flanking the door. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The statues immediately reminded him of the griffon hatchling he'd left in their rented room. As much as he knew bringing her along would cause complications they couldn't afford, leaving her curled in a little box under the bed had been a difficult choice.

A pang of guilt tightened his chest. She was fast asleep, nestled into one of my shirts, he reminded himself. She ate before we left. She'll probably still be asleep when we get back. Thankfully, the sight that greeted them at the gates to the inner ring was enough to pull him from his thoughts. To either side stood stately buildings glowing with an otherworldly light. Their grey stone walls were spotless, their magical lamps bright, and their entrances adorned with gold, jewels, and colorful banners.

The only major difference was color: the building on the right gleamed with warm gold and rubies, while the one on the left shimmered with cool silver and sapphires. Each had a circular tower rising from it, nearly tall enough to rival the city's main spell tower.

"The Fae embassies. Summer and Winter," Ciri said, almost reading his mind.

"They look… impressive," Noah murmured.

"That is what the entire city would look like if humans knew how to maintain the enchantments," Ken added. They're sending a message.

"The castle is this way," Ciri said, squeezing his hand. Tearing his gaze from the embassies, Noah tried to refocus on their goal. It wasn't easy. More and more buildings reflected the original Fae architecture: towers leaning and corkscrewing at impossible angles, fountains spraying clean water in mesmerizing patterns, and even the air smelling fresher. Well‑dressed humans and Fae bustled around them with purpose. As they neared the castle proper, their destination became obvious.

A queue of people had already formed outside the front doors, murmuring among themselves as they waited for them to open. Judging by their clothing, most seemed to come from the outer and middle sections of the city.

"You've got the evidence?" Noah asked Ciri softly, his eyes flicking toward the ever‑present satchel at her side.

"I would not have forgotten it," she replied.

"That is the entire purpose of our arrival here."

"Just checking," he said with a grin.

"Let's get in line then." They stepped into the queue behind a Summer Fae woman and a human man. The woman's auburn hair was tied into a French braid that spilled down the back of her blue satin shirt all the way to her curvy waist. She planted her hands on her hips as she spoke in Common, shaking her head in frustration.

"I told you, it's going to be fine."

"Glamour is a controlled substance! You need the proper permits to bring it into the city." With nothing else to distract him for the moment, Noah focused on the pair. The man's head was shaved bald, and he wore simple brown, monk-like robes tied at the waist with a plain belt. His tanned skin and black hair suggested Middle Eastern ancestry, though given how human cultures had blended in Tenebrae, Noah suspected there were half a dozen influences mixed in. He's from the Temple, Noah realized belatedly.

"For recreational use, perhaps. But this is for religious purposes, remember? A little glamour to help mystics see your Almighty's plan clearer?" Curiosity piqued, Noah leaned in as the man replied in a softer voice.

"But the amount of glamour you want to bring into the city is… well…"

"I'm simply ensuring that there is a steady supply," she replied confidently.

"I don't… pirate… the docks…" the man retorted, softer still so that Noah couldn't hear. With a glance back at Ciri and Ken, Noah leaned just a tad closer so he could listen in on the intriguing conversation. As he did, the Fae woman whipped around toward him with a knife in her hand. She brought it to Noah's throat before he could react, stopping the blade just before it pierced his skin.

"Spy! Who do you work for?" she hissed. Behind him, Ken reached for his own knife and Ciri grabbed for her grimoire. The monk in front of him backpedaled several steps, seemingly unwilling to join the fight. Keenly aware of the fact that people around them were turning to look, Noah shook his head before slowly raising his hands.

"I don't work for anyone, and I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's Ohnar, isn't it?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"That bastard pirate. You tell him that if I—""Borin Ohnar?" Noah cut her off, blinking in surprise. She furrowed her brow.

"Yes?"

"Borin Ohnar is dead," Noah said, switching to Fae.

"Liar."

"He tells the truth," Ken's voice rumbled from behind him as he pulled back his hood. She looked at the elderly Fae for a moment.

"A male wild Fae? Protecting a human?"

"We mean you no harm," Ken continued calmly. She pulled back her knife at his words.

"He was listening in." Noah rubbed at his neck.

"In my defense, it was an interesting conversation."

"Does… this mean that you're not going to kill each other?" the holy man chimed in, still not advancing.

"Yes," the Fae woman said, switching back to Common once more.

"At least not right away." Without the threat of his throat being slit, Noah looked at the woman in a new light. She had darker skin than either him or Ciri, as if she'd spent her entire life out in the sun. The front of her blue satin shirt was unbuttoned almost all the way to her stomach, giving him a view of her ample cleavage. Her red-painted lips turned upwards in an amused smile at the corners as her blue eyes met his.

"Your clothes are far too drab, you know. Brown? Beige? You need some color in your life," she noted, as if she hadn't just nearly killed him. Noah stared at her for a long few moments, his mind trying to catch up with what had just happened.

"I prefer function over form," he retorted finally.

"Also, I thought blue was more of a Winter Fae color."

"They're more guidelines than actual rules," she replied with a coquettish smile.

"Perhaps some proper introductions are in order?"

"My name's Noah."

"Cyrinthra-Poluquien Kenael'thira Qoræthis," Ciri chimed in.

"Oubryaeth Kenael'thir Qoræthis," Ken added.

"A pair of wild Fae and a human, the latter of whom speaks Fae. Interesting." She tapped her lip dramatically as she looked between them before smirking.

"My name is Laendria Sorvael'thin Qoræn Ithelas. And before you ask, yes—all the stories you've heard about me are true."

"I haven't actually heard any stories about you," Noah replied.

"But it's a pleasure to meet you anyway. I take it you and Borin Ohnar didn't get along?"

"That would be an understatement," the man replied as he moved back in.

"I am Brother Brant, of the local temple."

"Brother." Noah nodded to him respectfully.

"Tell me—are you certain that Ohnar is dead?" Laendria pressed. The image of Noah's crossbow bolt piercing the pirate's forehead between the eyes flashed across his mind.

"Positive." She looked at him for a long moment, eyebrow raised.

"You say that like you were there."

"I'd prefer not to say," Noah replied.

"I see." Her blue eyes met his for a long moment.

"Well, the world is a better place without him."

"On that, we are agreed." Noah nodded. Before he could say anything else, the doors to the castle finally flung open. A pair of green-coated guards flanked a fat, balding administrator in a grey tunic and black pants. The crowd turned to him expectantly, their conversations dying down as they waited for him to speak.

"There will be no petitioners today," the man said, eliciting a groan from the crowd.

"His Royal Majesty King Luther Therondale and her Royal Majesty Queen Solenne Therondale are attending to negotiations with the winter Fae empire, and cannot be disturbed. Crown Prince Cassian is attending to other matters outside the city, and his sister, Princess—""Oh, come on what the fuck!?" someone shouted.

"-is unavailable. They thank you for your patience and invite you back when the negotiations are slated to conclude." The administrator concluded his official statement.

"When will that be?!" someone else shouted from the crowd.

"In approximately six weeks," the administrator replied, causing the crowd to start shouting in displeasure. Laendria shook her head.

"Damn Frostwings."" What did you just say?" Ken said in Fae, using a tone of voice Noah had never heard from the normally unflappable Fae man. He sounds… scared. What the hell would scare Ken?