Published at 29th of October 2026 1:48 pm

Chapter 183: Falling In.

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Reaching directly over the city, I drop the glide spell and reorientate my cloak and body vertically, plummeting to the scarred city below. Im concealed by both spell and sky matching colour scheme, but I still have my rod out to divine my way in through the nets of overlapping divinations. My knuckles hurt from how hard Im gripping the rod, for fear of dropping it.

Using my cloak to make minute adjustments to my trajectory based on my divinations, I weave through the sky a fly through a web. Glancing through zones of competing divinations, taking all my focus with a difficulty Ive never attempted before Still, its much easier than I expected. Frankly, its amateurish, given the resources in play.

It seems as if they really only care about keeping things in, and set up all their detection methods to facilitate that. Of course, those methods will also detect ingress, but only incidentally. So, its much easier for my divinations to find a path to slip through than it should be. Though of course that also means itll be much harder to find a way out. Impossible, most likely.

On the way down, I spot several burned-down buildings and aim for one, reactivating my glide spell and extending my cloak at the last moment or rather, slightly after it. I hit the ground hard sending a cloud of ash up and I feel my leg snap despite the cushioning enchantment on my boots. I stuff my arm in my mouth and bite down on the enchanted fabric to muffle the scream, waiting until Im out of breath before forcing myself up to move.

Rather than casting my healing spell, I wait for the remnants of my shield spell, shattered from the impact, to clear before recasting it. The stronger version of my healing spell I learned around the equinoctial can mend bone, but its very slow (though still an infinitesimal fraction of the time to heal otherwise). Moreover, Im currently under concealment, multiguidance (on lowest power) and a shield spell. I already have a dull headache from it, so another spell of that level will be very painful possibly more than the leg. I could black out trying to keep all four, but I dare not drop any defences until I can assess the situation. At least figure out if the immediate area is safe.

I extend my sword fully in the scabbard and lean on it as a makeshift crutch as I limp away to hide behind a wall. My caution is rewarded a moment later as I hear sort of croaking, gravelly voices nearby.

I heard it over here. Im telling ya, someones trying to sneak up again.

Yeah, youre right. Must have slipped here, raised a bunch of ash. All right boys, you know what to do. Split up. We cant have anyone making a play on our bit.

I peek around the corner and spot about a dozen figures, filthy, with clothes half rotten off their painfully emaciated bodies. Even less nourished than Huxley. Each of them holds some light weapon in one hand: clubs, knives and hatchets. The other arm of each one hangs limply at their side a metal spike, half a foot long, driven into each one of them, just above the wrist. The tip is very sharp, and I see several of them drip blood where their idle movement digs it into their thighs. In addition to this, each person is heavily scarred throughout their bodies in patterns that clearly seem intentional aesthetic even. Mostly cuts, but also burns, plus a few lesser spikes driven in various spots. Some with pronounced skin flaps from their evident weight loss use the spikes to fold the skin together and bind it. One person who went the extra distance seems to have stapled their mouth shut and ears closed.

Ive read about ritual scarification practised by some kingdoms in the far north, or on islands in the far south. However, Ive never heard of a group intentionally mutilating their bodies to the extent of so seriously impairing function. A whole limb made useless for what? Some sort of group initiation? Not exactly a great membership benefit. I wonder how they recruit. Moreover, its been less than half a year since the quarantine happened. The greater empire is clearly committed to supplying the city's logistics, so what stressors could have occurred to cause the culture here to shift so rapidly?

I dont like the look of this; it reeks of divine intervention. But which god? Vanocaur, maybe? It doesnt quite match the normal rituals, but it has the same flavour to it. The subjecting ones self to pain; though there its more incidental. But if they are adherents of the god whose light is harsh and cruel, then I dont want to be here. Hopefully adherence hasnt spread through the whole city, to whoever it is.

Trusting concealment of both sorts, I creep away. Unfortunately, theyre spread out looking for me, and Im forced to briefly break cover. I time it well, waiting until theyre all looking away to dart to a nearby wall in utter silence. Even with my busted leg, I move well good enough that I should make it. Yet, the moment I enter line of sight, all of their heads immediately snap towards me.

Well, what do we have here? The man who ordered them to spread out calls, approaching with a menacing heft of a woodaxe. A tall man, lean as the others, but with some muscle remaining on his skeletal figure. As he speaks, he taps his arm spike against his leg, producing a shallow line of blood as it scratches into him. Another one of Gregors lame lot come to take whats ours?

I shift uncomfortably, shifting my awareness to each of the dozen or so thugs creeping up around me. I dont know Gregor. Im just passing through, not looking for trouble.

Dont know He laughs, causing the others to do likewise. But how can you not know him when you have his mark?

Mark? I ask, not hiding my bafflement.

The crippled leg, of course! You play dumb badly. Funny, that. Youd think youd be good at it.

I try to flash a calming smile, but forget that I still have my face covering on. I assure you that whoever this Gregor is, he did not invent the concept of a broken leg. I came about it far too recently for it to be whatever social marker youre claiming it is.

Recently? How recently? he grows hushed, glancing nervously to his underling with a seriousness that I do not know how I caused. As menacing as I found them before in my weakened state, I find him far more so now. Im not afraid, per se, but even knowing I could likely kill them all, I cant help but take him seriously.

I shrug coolly, hiding my sudden tension. Very.

So what? You some Fargazer, slipped and fell somehow, broke your leg, then snapped to?

I dont know what you mean by that. Im a bit of a new addition to the situation here.

No, I suppose you dont know whats what, do you ya. A Fargazer wouldnt.

Boss, this is no good, boss. A much shorter underling, half blind from the ritual scarification, whines as they approach the boss, rubbing their limp arm piteously. Fargazers shouldnt come here. Whys hes here? The ash, boss, the ash!

I know! The boss snaps, hyperventilating in pace with the whiner. I know. The ash must have been washed somehow. Gone wrong. We gotta go! Gotta burn! Keep us clean! They wont come to us! With a howl, he runs off, prompting the others to do likewise with their own desperate sounds, and leaving me more disquieted than if I had been forced to kill them all.

What did I say to scare them so much? Moreover, how did they see through my concealment spell so easily? Whatever the answer, its clear that theyre just a symptom of whatever is going on in this city, and not a cause, despite how deranged they are. Yet what could scare someone who would willingly mutilate themselves like that? Presumably theyre not the only ones, either, if this Greggory hobbles his followers like it seems they were claiming.

It makes me hesitant to heal my leg, though its just an intuition. Whatever is going on, though, deem a broken leg to be more hindering than my hunch is worth. So, dropping the apparently useless concealment spell, I hunch behind a wall and chant my healing magic. It takes about five minutes for the searing pain to stop when I put weight on it, and I keep it up for another five after that, just to make sure its fully mended. Then I recast concealment and head in the opposite direction of the lunatics.

Less than a block down the street at the first intersection, in fact I encounter more people. Contrary to all expectations, they seem completely normal, walking along with a normal array of expressions and with clothes that arent falling off of them. The one unnormal thing about them is that, like with the deranged thugs, concealment seems to do nothing at all with them. In fact, it seems to draw attention as they all suddenly stare at me when I come within a certain distance. Spooked, I end the effect, and the attention instantly wanes. I guess I wont be using it here. Unfortunate; I was hoping to keep hidden until I figured things out.

No matter. Ive always tried not to be too dependent on the spell. Which was always made easier by the fact that proper stealth technique made it more effective anyways. Ill manage Probably. It will make observing Terry harder once I find him though.

Which raises my first objective. I need to find Terry if Im to help him. After ending concealment, the normal people around me dont pay me much attention, or at least no more than would be normal in a normal city. The most attention I get is from a few street vendors trying to sell me something. So, nobody pays any mind when I duck into an abandoned alley and pull out my divining rod.

I get a faint, pulsing warmth which confirms that Terrys in the city, but its non-directional. A few minutes of futile triangulations later, the signal disappears entirely, leaving a void of sensation. Its not like my efforts are being countered Id get something then, just nonsense. Rather, its like he no longer exists. The same as if he were dead and his body destroyed, but I refuse to believe it. At least, it wouldnt make sense for the disappearance to be gradual if that were the case. Hed just be there, and then suddenly not. Besides, he warned that this might happen, so nothing to worry about Nothing at all.

Besides, its not quite the same experience as divining something that doesnt exist. I cant explain it fully, or even pick out the difference in phenomena, but it does feel different.

Ill just have to try more arduous methods. After all, Ill need to rebuild my network of animals here anyways, if Im to spy on him once I find him. I divine the nearest bird and find something just as curious. I get a strong signal all around, but too far. Everything is outside of the city. When I try to narrow down the range, I get nothing.

Perplexed, I experiment, targeting random things Ive seen inside the city. The thugs come up straight away (incidentally in the direction of a new plume of black smoke). Various buildings come up, and the random people I came across all result in a signal, though the latter feels strange in a manner I once again cant describe. Still, its clear that divination hasnt somehow been disabled in the area completely. I didnt realize I was holding my breath, but figuring that out is a big relief. It doesnt help solve the problems of the missing birds, though. Or missing animals in general, as I try divining every species that comes to mind to no avail.

Eventually I get the sense that rather than the divination being interfered with, as with Terry, there simply arent any animals in this city. The hairs on my spine stand up at the thought. It clearly cant just be a case of the inhabitants eating them all in desperation. Contrary to the thugs who greeted my arrival, everyone else seems well fed. The relief efforts seem to be well organized. So, I can only conclude that its related to whatever the mystery is. Which is rather inconvenient, but Its at least a clue.

I look out the alley, seeing a wide stretch of the city. I feel an urge to panic. This place so big. Nothing compared to the capital, but still. If Huxley had behaved, Id have started right next to them, but now what do I even do with no divinations and no animals to exploit? But panic has no use. I need more clues, and the only ones who seem friendly enough to talk are these normal people. So, with a feeling of dread and the knowledge that I have no choice, I go to the nearest tavern to see what I can learn.

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