Doorways and Corners [Eitan]

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Frost 10th, 122

It had taken the later half of Ash to fully coordinate the operations between the Riverland forts, the towns that had not been destroyed by the mist storms, and what military field commanders were willing to come to the negotiating table but now, as the cold of the year was truly setting in, by the grace of technology and cooperation, it seemed as though the country was going to make it through the season. Food and supplies were being sent where they would be needed from the Fort supplies, so the army and what remained of the navy would be able to continue to protect the borders, as well as quarantine the capitol and keep what was inside where it was. Going in and cleaning the city out so it could be inhabited again would be the work of other seasons, if not, likely, other years. No one had specifically agreed on who was in charge but it was settled that, as the Islands were the most easily mobile and capable of carrying the most goods from place to place, they would be coordinating everything.

It was accepting that sending a message to Minister Dornkirk would mean that it arrived at its intended destination as a certainty was enough to keep the various factions talking to him, and when he showed he could get them supplies when they needed it, it meant they were willing to do him favors, even if they didn't call them 'orders'. The structure wasn't what Stefan would call stable, but it would hold at least until the first crops of late Glade could be harvested. People survived on their stomachs and he was the only reliable source of enough food stuffs to keep the military going. The towns that were far enough from the capitol not to be effected were mostly fine. They weren't getting shipments anymore so some of them wanted to trade their locally produced products for ones from other places, and without the surplus of airships any longer they were having to figure out land routes, or rely on the Islands, which was fine by Stefan.

Delia, with a small army of military aids, was running the operation that delegated everything coming in to where it needed to be. He needed to figure out an official title for her. Minister of Distribution maybe? It was comforting to know that they weren't having to ration basic supplies like food, soap, or clothing anymore. Not that Stefan would be ordering new suits anytime soon, but he also didn't have to worry if he stained one of his shirts beyond public usage.

The Islands mostly remained near to the city, sending out the growing number of ships that they had been able to salvage and remain in the still working Windworks with communications and supplies in a constant flow. It also allowed them to send out search parties for those who needed an escape from the city, although, after almost six months, the chance of finding anyone was growing slim. Instead the search parties mostly came back with goods that were needed by the Windworks or other parts of the Islands. Once in a while a special request was taken from one of the commanders of either the forts or the army in the field, for more ammo, or weapons, and they fulfilled them as best they could.

The teams also turned up unexpected things, fairly often. So often, in fact, that Stefan had delegated a team to categorizing the things and analyzing them for threats or potential uses. They had found several pockets of more Order members and they were now making use of the set of empty bays that had become the new Order headquarters. Stefan was hoping to get them settled into the Academy once they had it off the ground (which should happen in two days time) but if they did not want to go, there wasn't much he could do about it. They, like the covens, accepted that he was in charge, but they had their own command structures, their own ways, and he was strongly encouraged to keep himself out of the inner workings.

He had sent teams to investigate the odd opening in the ground that seemed to have been ground zero for the opening of the rift above a few times, and while he had never allowed anyone to enter it, their findings indicated that there was a cave, or system of caves inside, and that it was not unoccupied. Stefan had spent time in the Warrens before and while he had not enjoyed it, he had survived. Now he had greater protections, and it seemed as though it would be worth it to at least investigate further, with Eitan at his side and both of them ensconced in their armored suits.

So, when he'd found a day in which he personally, and Eitan personally, were not needed for other things, he put together a navy crew on a small ship, the Sky Eel (the little ship was becoming the default one he used when he went down in the suits) and made plans to go down. The ship would maintain a height and distance from the rift that would keep it safe, but close enough that they could monitor Stefan and Eitan's communication. It seemed unlikely they might find anything to bring out, but everything had been turned on it's head on the 34th, and it was best to keep options open.

The flight over went as expected and Stefan appreciated that he'd had the forethought to install heating in the suits. Being high in the air encased in metal was not comfortable in the colder seasons without it.

When they landed at the entrance his senses went on high alert and he looked over at Eitan, though he could not actually see the man's expression behind the helmet, so he said,

"Are we good to proceed?" To his brother, and then, "Sky Eel, are you reading us?"

[Eitan Angevin]

"Reading loud and clear, Minister Dornkirk," came the immediate, crisply efficient reply.

"Radio check, Angevin." Then, on a private channel to Stefan, "I am good to go."

"Reading loud and clear, Captain Angevin."

"Excellent. Proceed to safe altitude and distance." And then again on the private channel, "I've said it before and I'll say it again: your arse looks amazing in your suit." The ridiculousness of the statement made him smirk behind his helmet.

Eitan waited for Stefan to take point; he had his weapons ready and would be on the lookout for dangers. Through the aura glass panel in his helmet, he looked for threats. Whenever he had off time, and often while he was conferring with witches or Warders who wouldn't be bothered, he warded individual munitions against various things to make them more effective against mistborn threats. He had taught other warders the trick, but his were ultimately the most effective. He wanted his own slugs in his weapons and Stefan's when they were on the ground.

"Initial surveillance reveals no immediate threats," he said for Stefan's benefit as well as their air support. "How do we look from up there, Sky Eel?"

He had left his spyglass with the keenest eye on the airship to monitor magical activity, but he had received it when he was inducted as a Watcher. There were more powerful bits of aura glass; Beeman was still cataloguing what they had retrieved from the ruins of the Order's stronghold, and he wasn't the only person who needed to be able to see what he was fighting.

"Negative on hostile mistborn in your immediate vicinity, Captain."

"Excellent news." His suit also gave Stefan the thumbs up to proceed; Eitan would follow.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

The initial scouting from above suggested that the crevasse was very deep, as deep as ever The Expedition had gone. It had taken more than a week from the time the entered the opening during that fateful trip to make their way so deep, however, and this, as far as could be told, was a straight drop down into the darkness.

As the first time Stefan had made his way into the Warrens, he had a brother by his side, and though it was not the same one, he trusted Eitan with his life as willingly as he would have Brenner. They were both fathers now, and though a pang of regret filled Stefan as he peered down over the edge of the hole (not currently regurgitating Mists, thankfully) that it was something, like marriage had been, that Brenner would not never share with them. Might never share with them. The eldest Dornkirk was not one for superstitious portents but something about this day, this anomaly felt connected to his lost brother somehow.

With a final nod toward the other armored suit he activated the hover ability in his own and pushed out over the opening in what had once been the greatest city on the continent. The descent was slow by design, he could have angled himself face down and shot forward at speed, but there was no telling what lay below, or on the way.

The first deep was fairly well documented, but things could change without warning in the Warrens, so all precaution was needed. Eitan had taught him first about the area, but he had studied them thereafter in as much detail as he was able via books. Eventually, after an hour that was spent mostly in quiet vigilance the swamp and forest they had encountered in the Second Dark came into view, and, with it, the apparent end to the direct downward drop. The pair came to rest on a relatively solid bit of ground and if shades of what had occurred the last time they two had been alone in the Second Dark were haunting Stefan he gave no sign of it.

It was unlikely his communications array would reach the allies above from as deep as they were but the ones between the two suits shouldn't be effected, still, it was better to know.

"Are we still connected?" He asked directly, then added, "It's much like it was during The Expedition."

[Mirage]

The trip down the gaping mouth of the crater was a quiet one, calm if unnaturally still. Above what was once the Presidium the tear in reality still resided, and from its depths the mists poured in a steady and never ending stream. The mists were, however, contained in a near transparent dome that encased both the Tear and a wide area around the crater. A series of nodes made of dark crystals formed anchors that kept the mists from spreading into the rest of Zaichaer, but that left them only one place to go.

Mist fell like waterfalls, down into the seemingly endless darkness around them as they ventured deeper and deeper. Perhaps it was the mist itself that kept the beast of the Warrens from venturing too often into this area, or perhaps most that resided in the cave and caverns had been extinguished in the blast like the city above. Eventually they passed the final layer of stone and the Second Deep opened below them.

They stood on the banks of a steadily moving stream which wound deeper into the mists that permeated the forest. Soft whispers could be heard from deeper within, and bluish green lights danced in trees and across the clear waters in front of them. There was a pervasive chill in the air, a cold not born from the winter season but from peculiarity of the place they found themselves in. It was a cold that no cloak or magic could prevent, as it was a chill that touched the soul not the body. The flickering lights gathered in the trees around the two new comers, as if observing them. They might have been fireflies, were they not shaped like living flame that phased through whatever solid object that obstructed their path. The whispers never ceased, only growing louder as more and more lights began to flicker into existence. The water on the banks began to ripple as something deeper in the forest stirred, perhaps alerted by the growing number of lights that there were unexpected visitors.

There was a path to their right which lead away from the waters edge, and should they follow it the two would find themselves at a small clearing. There were obvious signs of others having been in the area some time ago. Footprints were still pressed into the soft mud at the edges of the clearing, and deeper rivets showed that large and heavy objects had been placed and dragged around the space. Most eye catching was at the center, where a raised dais and a circle of stones were located and placed with some clear intent. Across every surface were pictographs, runes and scripts which held vast meaning, incomprehensible even, and seemed to blend concepts from all forms of world magic into one. The largest diagram at the center connected all of the pillars, and it was there that the most confounding scripts were found. Traces of powerful magic abounded, especially around and on the dais itself.

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan had joked last season about making the clockwork suits flightworthy, and the descent only proved the genius of his brother-in-law. Perhaps they were not ready for air combat, but this was a miracle of science. Orator Beeman had helped devise a system whereby the aura glass in their helmets connected to memory stones; if she could not be present to explore with them, she would be able to review what they saw. Eitan made a point of focusing on the crystal nodes—dragonshards?—and the behavior of the Mists along their descent.

In general, Eitan came out of his suit sweating. There were ice shards incorporated into the matrix that kept both the suit and the wearer from overheating, but still. He had never felt a chill quite like he did now while wearing it. But for all the horrors above, these were the Warrens, long twisted by Mists and other magics, best left sealed away and guarded. Yet again, here they were exploring. He was alert for the spider-like creatures that had evolved from the parasites—or perhaps they had already existed, drawn to the massive energy discharges and chaotic patterns the events in Zaichaer had caused.

He wished—not for the first time—he was as intelligent as Stefan. But Stefan would figure things out, now or later with Beeman's help. Eitan would keep him alive.

After surveying the stream when they touched down and didn't receive communication from above, Eitan took charge.

"Let's aim for an hour of exploration, then rise high enough to check in with air support, at least, if we need more time. This way."

The Seeker had identified a path that seemed to go somewhere, and so he took it decisively.

"For fuck's sake..." Eitan began to look carefully at the twining scripts and symbols on pillars and dais. He shuddered within his mobile armor. "I am picking up a bit of the glyph-work. Scrivening, they call it. But this is far beyond me. I'm cataloguing for Beeman and her experts to review. Looks esoteric to me. Any chance it looks scientific to you...?'

That was Stefan's bailiwick, and if there was anything to be seen in that scope, it would be him who saw it.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Each time Stefan had venture into the deeper levels of the Warrens he had wondered, marveled, that there were trees and other plants growing there that, according to science, should not have been able to survive the lack of sunlight. Yet, here they were, as undeniable as Frost. Had his life been different, he might have committed a portion of it to taking samples and exploring the possibilities of what allowed the subterranean fauna to thrive. It might be particularly useful information considering how greatly Zaichaer might find itself in need of food stuffs in the coming months.

Putting all thoughts of experimentation firmly aside he concentrated on the ever-dangerous setting as the descent ended and his feet, clad in their steely armor, alighted on the soggy ground. The place they had come to land was on the banks of a slim body of moving water, he would have called it a stream had they been above ground, but here, he did not know the term for it. Around the 'stream' on all sides was a forest, if it also was still called such (Here he decided to give up on trying to remember the names of things, as he would only end up confusing himself, and determined to just use the names he knew.). It was foggy, and eerie, but not silent. The temperature gauge in his helmet said it was colder here than even it was outside, yet no frost was present.

Despite his well padded and bulky armor suit Stefan shivered, murmuring,

"Do you feel that? It cuts right through the armor." But he hand signaled a nod at Eitan's sensible suggestions and let his brother take the lead, as was right under the circumstances. It was frankly a relief to finally be, again, in a situation where he was not in charge. The coalescing of the little lights, and their accompanying whispered voices disturbed him more than he wanted to admit, so he did his best to ignore them and move along what looked like a path through the trees. When the path opened into a clearing it became much, much easier to ignore the lights.

Stefan was too taken in by all that he was seeing, his mind going immediately to cataloging and making connections between what he knew and what he was observing to answer Eitan when the other man swore. If it had sounded alarmed he would have snapped to attention, but as it was, all his processing power was absorbed. After a good ten minutes of carefully walking around, not stepping on the prints already evident, not disturbing anything, he flipped down the aura glasses that were installed in his helmet and gasped.

The whole area was so infused with magic, and of so many different types that it was initially blinding. Not in a way that actually effected his pupils, just in such a way that he could not tell anything about any of it. Carefully he began separating the different types, World from Personal, and then down the branching trees of so many runes and, he believed, every World Magic with which he was familiar.

He circled the whole area again, making verbal notes constantly that his suit would save so he could listen to them again later, should he need to. Eitan would be able to hear everything he said, whether he understood it or not. When he reached the central pillar he paused, inspecting it for long minutes all on its own. At last, a hardness to his voice that matched the setting and the stone, he said,

''I know this hand. These runes, written this way, I've seen them before."

[Eitan Angevin]

With his wards firmly in place, he knew that it was impossible that anything got through to make them shiver, so he was angry that he had experienced the same reaction. But it wasn't Stefan's fault and so he kept his swearing in his head as they proceeded. He tried not to distract Stefan as he made his examination, only giving another turn himself, inscribing the views and his verbal notes in the mnemosyte memory bank so they could compare notes when they debriefed later.

He paused, not wasting energy to turn the suit toward Stefan after his pronouncement. Instead, he switched to the shared comm line.

"Don't keep me waiting. I'm shivering in anticipation."

If Stefan recognized a pattern, it might be the data they needed to form a cohesive theory for what was going on here and how to proceed. Likely proceeding would have to wait until that debrief, until they spoke to Beeman and some of the higher ranking captains, as well as the nascent council. It wouldn't do their newborn government any good if they weren't forthcoming with those who weren't carry overs from the previous regime or in the military. Eitan didn't want the High City to become a duoarchy.

If only they could outfit their limited ground forces and their Seekers with similar armor, they could come down here in force and take care of business. Perhaps, in the future, such might be the case. For now, though, this mystery was up to the brothers-in-law to solve, or at least bring back enough data for a congress of great minds to solve. Eitan was no genius; he knew that. He was a soldier, a leader, a warder, but he didn't have all the answers they would need to survive. That was why he was glad to be a part of this great endeavor, Zaichaer surviving, but only a part.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Stefan snapped his head up from where he'd been staring down as Eitan's voice brought him back into the present moment. He hadn't even realized he has been speaking his thoughts aloud until they were questioned. Turning to look at his friend, though they could see barely each other's faces through the helmets his angry frown was easily discernible.

"The Kalzasi witch, Lyra, this is her work." He sounded so certain, which was unlike him when his evidence was based on nought but his own recollections and the feel of it. Saying that he had been put 'in-charge' of overseeing the witch's activities in the city would be overstating significantly but he had been expected to ensure she received what she needed for her work. Why she had been allowed to do any work at all, allowed to stay in the State, he did not know. But Brenner had sanctioned it and that had been enough for both the government and the younger Dornkirk's elder brother at the time. Almost. Stefan had questioned it, but Brenner remained both tight lipped and staunch in his insistence that Lyra be given whatever she needed to proceed in her labors. It had galled, but tension had been rife between the brothers at the time for a messy tangle of reasons and Stefan had been too overwhelmed in his new position as Minister to pursue the matter any more than he had.

During the events of the 34th and their aftermath he had had no thought to spare for a stray witch, and, when he had eventually recalled her existence it had been only to hope she had died and then again forgotten.

But now, because he had had access to her laboratory and work spaces within the Order complex, his mechanical mind whirled with all the similarities and exact recreations of what he had seen there. This was her work.

He began to point out his reasons to believe so, more for the embedded mnemosyte recording it all than because Eitan would also recognize the signs. How much involvement the Seeker had had in Lyra's doing, Stefan did not know.

"We need a Scrivener, as skilled as we have available. I won't send a Sembler down here." Setting a trap to be triggered by magical investigation was just the sort of malevolence that made Lyra tick. "Not without all the wards you can place over them, at least."

Glancing at the time piece inside his helmet Stefan took a step away from the center of the ritual site. "We should head back, take what we've both gathered and give it over to Beeman and whatever Scriveners we've got. Alchemists too. Mists, all world mage types available need eyes on this. I'm making this a priority."

There were Highest Level priorities that nothing went above on the list of work, food production, medical treatment, protection from outside threats, but, aside from those, this would get all the attention the Order could give it.

[Eitan Angevin]

Eitan blinked.

Of course, he knew about Lyrielle of Kalzasi. While he hadn't been assigned to any cases regarding her work in the High City and Brenner hadn't seen fit to tell him anything in particular about her, the name had come up enough that he had read her file. Even then, his clearance had been high enough. It wasn't enough to be as familiar with her work as Stefan seemed to be.

He also recognized how upset Stefan was. The only Minister remaining in Zaichaer blamed the woman for the death of his brother and Eitan didn't have any facts to counter his hypothesis. But he listened to the reasoning, taking a slow, careful turn around to make sure his own mnemosyte recordings were as complete as possible so Orator Beeman and the team on the islands could prepare said scrivener as much as possible to mitigate risk. And Eitan would return. His wards would be more effective if he was present to modify them as necessary, and if he was putting himself at risk, at least Beeman would remain to make wise choices for the Order. She wouldn't like it, but he trusted her.

"All right. I believe I have a full visual for them to review when we return. Are you ready to go?"

They would be able to review the aether hereabouts thanks to the aura glass, though he didn't know if they would be able to unravel the works of Stefan's evil mastermind. It occurred to Eitan that he might need to start learning the art of scrivening; he knew it could make his shields more nuanced and lasting, and it didn't require any further taint to his soul. It would also give him an understanding of magic that might make it easier to communicate it to his brother-in-law, who liked systems and rules and geometry. But that was something to consider later.

Eitan gauged the wards on their armor and deemed them still in good condition, but if there was danger lurking, they would not be safe until they were no longer down here.

[Stefan Dornkirk]

Trying to tamp down the anger that welled in him high enough to overwhelm the grief that caused it, Stefan made sure to step back and get wide views of the place from every angle.

When he had finished this a thought struck him,

"I'm going airborne for a minute," He warned Eitan, "The view from above might offer insight as to the intention of this place. Keep watch above me, would you?"

His own eyes would be concentrating on getting a full view of the ritual site from above and the 'sky' of the Warrens were no less dangerous than the ground there. It seemed some of the magic of the area kept creatures at bay but there was no telling what might swoop down if he looked enough like prey.

Their luck held while he took his last recordings and readings and returned to the ground. Making a final check with his partner to ensure they were ready, the pair left the site, heading back to the hole they had decided into. Thankfully it still looked clear as they made their approach, and, not wanting to stay a moment longer than needed least whatever had been moving in the water earlier decided they were worth closer inspection themselves, they took off as soon as it was safe to do so.

The ride back to the Sky Islands and the laboratories now houses in The Windworks was galling for the scientist in Stefan; the pressure to know combined with the still simmering hatred in his chest and made him short and irritable with anyone who tried to interact with him. He tried to calm himself, not snap at those who were just doing their jobs, but this only meant he was all but silent until they were docking.

Taking the time to properly remove the armor was a trial, and he was snapping off orders for the formation of research groups and the calling in of specialists as soon as his helmet was lifted away. Knowing that real answers would take time did nothing to calm him, and those around him, from Deinerin to the messenger boys sent to take his orders, all seemed to catch on to his mood of both irritation and intent on getting things done.

As he climbed out of the rest of the armor he couldn't stop his eyes from resting on t he locked door behind which was the small laboratory in which Orator Beeman performed the secret and silent examination of his brother's remains. Sometimes he caught his thoughts referring to it as 'the room where Brenner is' or things to that effect. He stopped the thoughts when he noticed them but he did not correct them. Up to that point his intense desire to seek vengeance for his brother's death had been a diffused thing. If Kalzasi was responsible, he could see the nation punished, but no one person was truly responsible and harming citizens who had had no knowledge of the intention nor ability to stop it if they had was not satisfying or right. Finding and eliminating some members of the government who had known was better, morally speaking, but the thought did not salve the tearing wound in his heart.

But now...

The notion that there might be a person who was more responsible, possibly wholly responsible, and that that person was so abhorrent that no thought need be spared before exacting true and just retribution upon them...

Stefan's expression, unknown to himself, slide from the tender, hopeless one he wore when he looked at the door that kept safe Brenner's bones to something akin to a snarl; vicious, jubilant and heartless.