A few papers and a trained lie opened them all doors. Kupferrang was a maze of people, with guards spread throughout. They had made it into the city, but due to the hectic stream of arrivals, they might have done so illegally. Guards stopped them four different times, keen to find something suspicious. But Angin met all their questions and hostility with a disarming charm. A master fencer, avoiding all their verbal strikes with grace.
Kupferrang relied on a flux of Alchemists, specializing in the transmutation of copper, mixing it into alloys. Angin acted to be one, having a rudimentary understanding of metalwork to appear genuine. Liron's limited knowledge of smithing aided in the deception, giving Angin the smaller details so his performance would suffice.
As the streets filled with people, the Silvermoon on the decline, they pushed the Machina forward. They parked it near the inn where they were supposed to meet with the Resistance spies. But before entering, they ate at one of the many food stalls. They would spread as the execution came closer, hoping to empty the purses of the audience. Angin waved his papers around until they had gotten a discount on their food.
"A flawed system. One we have to take advantage of if we want to take it down," Angin said, biting on a bun filled with meat, sauce dripping down his chin.
Chatter all around them as they left the food stall, pushing through the masses. Angin had predicted the execution to become an event, but by the looks of it, it would become a celebration Liron had never seen before. The exuberant atmosphere reminded him of Eisenrahm hours before a midnight mass. A time to enjoy themselves and recuperate.
The inn was located closer to the outer rims of Kupferrang. But it had the same craftsmanship as the other half-timbered houses. It was twice as large as the previous inn they had taken. The doors stood wide open, people standing outside, drinking. The inn itself was filled to the brim. Bad pub songs sung off-key welcomed them, as did the smell of spilled beer and stagnant air, making every breath one Liron wished he hadn't taken. Every table was occupied, and the inn had run out of chairs long ago. This did not prevent folks from entering, taking every free spot.
Angin and Liron shoved themselves a path forward, earning angry shouts and glares. They paid them no attention, as the folk in the inn would not have given them room for a fight to break out. The way to the stairs was long, but they reached them. Even there, people, standing or sitting on them. Only upon insisting on it did they make space for Angin and Liron.
Whoever was supposed to meet them had taken a room on the second floor. A good choice, as the first floor was filled, too. Angin checked the numbers on the doors and after finding the right one performed a series of knocks following a preset pattern.
"Come in," a voice said from the other side.
Angin hurried inside, and only after Liron had closed the door behind them did Angin address the person in front of them. "Anginseran Antera Asseltoch. Alchemist. Previous task: to travel through Nordland. Gather intel and gain trust. New task: securing and delivering our person of interest."
The room was massive, easily able to house four people, with four beds spread around, giving each person their space. Leaning against a writing desk, a single candle lit on it, a young man stood there, crossing his arms, taking them in. He couldn't have been much older than Liron, but his features were steeled in hardship. No emotions escaped his neutral glance, bereft of all notions yet somehow tense.
His body radiated with strength. Similar to Angin's usual look, he appeared more crafted than human. But unlike the epiphany of artistic beauty that the Alchemist strived for, the stranger resembled statues of warriors, their figures meant for battle. He didn't impress with elegance but with a heroic forbearance that did not allow for any emotions to foul his visage.
All the more strange was his choice of clothes. He wore a sublime red jacket and pants, fitting for a highborn or someone who moved in their circles. His curly hair was kept short, brushed backwards, but single strands hung in his face. The stranger was more prepared for a debate or teaching the future of the Empire than to rebel against them.
"Jean?" Angin said, frowning. "What are you doing here?"
"Elisabeth has sent me here," Jean said, not moving away from his position. He regarded Angin with the same cold indifference he would have an insect. "She predicted a situation like this from occurring. After the vision, I was to await you near the border, for trouble was sure to find you."
"Well… good to see you, Jean."
Jean nodded, brief and courteous. Angin cleared his throat, knowing he wouldn't receive more from Jean. "This is Liron," Angin said. "Liron, this is Jean-Antoine Alarn. He's the apprentice of Wran himself."
Liron gulped, Jean's apathy gaining a new depth. He walked towards him, holding his hand towards him. "Nice to meet you, Jean."
Jean looked at him, not taking his hand. After a few seconds, Liron lowered it.
"Well, lovely," Angin said, walking up next to Liron. "Let me guess, you used the Lorraine transport to get here?"
"Of course. As you used to do."
Angin waited again for more, but Jean saw no need. The Alchemist put his bags on one of the beds, pulled off his shoes, and massaged his feet, groaning as he did so. Liron played with his fingers, shrinking underneath Jean's look. His eyes appeared neutral, but they absorbed all there was to Liron. They were not impressed.
"So, what do you've got?" Angin asked, having finished with his feet. "You've been here for a few days, right?"
Jean grabbed a notebook from the table, scrolling through it. "My initial observations indicate that our target is being held in the bureau. Based on my assumption, she will be in the dungeon underneath. I could not infiltrate the bureau itself, as its security measures are thorough and show no openings to exploit. That makes any options for freeing our target through nonviolent means highly unlikely.
"A direct assault on the bureau would not yield any greater results, as it is heavily guarded. And with no clear idea of the inner structure of the bureau, we would run the risk of stepping into traps or ambushes. Considering the execution itself, our target is planned to be robbed of her life in the marketplace. It offers space for most people. Her death is supposed to be viewed by as many as possible."
"Not bad for your first time. Who's in charge?"
"Adenius Klang," Jean said, lowering his notebook. The name had an effect on him, a crack showing on his perfect mask.
Angin cursed, burying his face in his hands. "Fuck me…"
"Wh… what?" Liron asked. "Who is this? Is he dangerous?"
Angin laughed. An ugly one. "You could say that. One of the most vicious fuckers the Inquisition has to offer."
"Adenius Klang is notorious for his extreme methods," Jean said. "He will utilize all he has to to hunt down his prey. He considers all citizens of the Empire as his private tools he can take advantage of and discard as it pleases him. Thanks to the results he provides, the Inquisition protects him from all consequences.
"We lack greater insight into the true scale of his crimes, but entire towns had vanished after he had been seen in them. We speculate that he has caused several bloodbaths, all to capture one person. As long as he provides more benefit than harm, the Inquisition will keep using him. No matter the cost to the civilians they are sworn to protect."
A hint of passion had wiggled itself into Jean's explanation. Whether it spoke for an empathetic heart, or an enemy that couldn't be underestimated, Liron couldn't say. But as he had finished, his mask was back on, shielding all glimpses into what lay behind.
"This has gotten much worse," Angin said. "As Jean mentioned, we don't have much on Adenius, as the Inquisition sweeps the aftermath of his 'investigations' under the carpet and there are usually no survivors to talk about it. What we can say is that he is nearly impossible to predict. He relies on… chaotic plans that only he can make sense of. You will only realize what he was doing after the fact. A fucking nightmare to deal with. What else, Jean?"
"As you have probably suspected yourself already, Adenius plans to lure Liron out. But I think that his plan is more far-reaching than this. We have confirmation through our spies that the Lockrams have assigned Kasper Lockram with Liron's capture as well as the Urachs' commission of their assassins.
"Based on your report, you have eliminated one of the assassins already. We have no concrete intelligence, but it is to be assumed that Rarn Urach sent at least two assassins. The Inquisition and the Sacred Houses aren't working together, so there is no coordination. Adenius likely intends to lure Liron and his pursuers into Kupferrang, increasing his chances of success by bolstering his troops with powerful allies."
Angin groaned again.
"Why don't they work together?" Liron asked. "Wouldn't it be easier that way?"
"You think too logically, Liron," Angin said. "The Empire is a mess. It's a miracle that it works at all. One of its founding pillars is ensuring all its components are constantly infighting. Makes it impossible for them to ally themselves against the Emperor and such. By fostering a culture of deceit, betrayal, and constant suspicion, they ensure there won't be any risk of greater rebellion in their forces. This shows itself all throughout the Empire. It is very helpful, but it has many downsides. Two Sacred Houses and the Inquisition refusing to work together would be one of them. Their only goal is to make the other look bad."
Jean narrowed his eyes at Angin's dismissal of the Empire. "The Empire has a foul heart," he said, "but its body is one to admire. A great machine, flawed in its conception, yet it works without falter."
Angin rolled his eyes. "You're still on that bullock? It's not a fucking machine and not great. It's nothing but a system that's supposed to keep the powerful ones powerful. Nothing more to it."
Jean's face remained neutral, but his eyes did not. "To march towards a better tomorrow, you have to understand how one looks. Are we not supposed to avoid the mistakes of old? For this, we have to comprehend what has its functions and what needs to be cut out."
"If you ask me, the body, as you called it, doesn't just have a foul heart. It had pumped its disease through the entire thing. The rot has taken its roots in all aspects. Believing that you can salvage anything without ensuring infection is a fool's errand."
Angin and Jean stared at one another. Liron placed his belongings on a bed, sitting on it. "Ehr… this Ragner man is going to help us, right?"
"Yes," Jean said, breaking his eye contact with Angin. "As he is a known presence to the Empire, he has to travel here by other means."
"Is he using the bike I made for him?" Angin asked.
"I was told nothing in particular…"
Angin smiled. "That means yes. Well, anything else?"
"Yes. There was supposed to be another spy stationed in Kupferrang. Pierre. He has infiltrated the city as a successful merchant, requiring constant traveling. By all accounts, he should have been back four days ago, but all attempts to contact him have failed. It is our highest objective to determine his fate. We shall do so tomorrow."
"Sounds great," Angin said. "So they only sent you? You've never been outside Sannara. Where's the supervision?"
To answer Angin's question, a cracking sound came from the walls, moving towards the ground. Recognition dawned on the Alchemist's face, and a calm smile spread on his lips. But another realization hit him.
"Liron, it's all good," he said, hurrying between Liron to the spot where the sound traveled to. "He's our friend."
Before he could ask a single question, a wooden board on the floor was shoved upwards. A grey mass of flesh slithered outwards, constructing itself into a new form. Similar to what Angin had done by manipulating their bodies, but done to an extent and mastery of minute control that the Alchemist could never dream to achieve.
As the mass took form, revealing a humanoid shape, Liron realized what being had invaded their space. Naked with no genitals and no nipples. Feet with no toes, resembling the fin of a fish. Four arms, lean but built with vigor. The body was scrawny and agile, perfect for infiltration. Where Angin and Jean were human perfection, this thing was a mockery of it, understanding the shape it mimicked but failing to properly copy it. It had only three fingers on each hand, all thick and ending in sharp talons.
Once Liron saw the head, he summoned his knife, regardless of what Angin told him to. The forehead was sharp like an arrowhead, appearing like it was intended to ram into its opponents. Big round eyes with a thin, slit-like iris, swimming in a deep blue, appearing like the surface of water, fractured as if someone had disturbed the surface. Its mouth was massive, reaching from the stumps it had for ears. It was filled with fangs, wider than anything Liron had ever seen.
From both sides of its neck, three growths lurked out. They appeared like long tongues, all holding dozens of violet whiskers, flowers adorning the ghastly appearance. They hung down its chest, having a striking similarity to an old man's beard. It had a stump coming out from its lower back, a tail that had never grown larger than a forearm. From its tip reaching to the thing's head, a thin membrane lurked out of its back. Similar to whatever was attached to its neck, the membrane was a mixture of beige and a weaker pink. It resembled the wings of Illaxia, meant for flight but being held back from ever developing into one.
A Qilesh. It appeared more alien than Liron could have ever imagined. "What the fuck?!" Liron screeched. "What is this thing doing here?"
Angin pushed Liron's hands down. "He's a friend, Liron. Zonis is on the side of the Resistance. He's helping us against the Empire and the Qilesh.
"I'm terribly sorry," the Qilesh said. "I knew that my arrival would cause you dismay, but I thought it'd be better if I showed myself without waiting. Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zonis."
Its voice was strangely human, sounding like a grandfather talking to his grandchildren. Earnest and considerate. Where the eyes were unmoving and sterile, the mouth moved with minute detail, revealing all finer aspects of the thing's emotion.
"Liron," Angin said, "I would trust my life with Zonis. We're lucky he's here. He's one of our best."
Liron looked between Angin and Jean. The latter had made no attempts to calm the situation, watching him from the same position as when they had entered. Against his better judgment, Liron discarded his knife, watching Zonis. The Qilesh responded with a warm smile, lips closed not to show its fangs.
"You must be Liron," Zonis said. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Yeah," Liron said, his guts hurting as they were stabbed. "Wh… can you explain… why…"
"Of course," Zonis said. "You must be confused, my poor boy. You see, we Qilesh are not all in agreement with Xeras' and the other Cyoon's rule. As not all humans agree with your Empire and its Emperor. Your reaction is very understandable. My brethren have given you all cause for caution. But I despise their efforts and desire for destruction. Me and my siblings have abandoned the Tainted Mountains. There aren't many of us, but we all broke with the Qyoral."
"That's their name for the Qilesh empire," Angin explained.
Zonis nodded, taking a step towards Liron. "I understand if you do not trust me immediately. All I ask is a chance to prove my allegiance to you and our cause. Let me help you free your sister."
Angin gave Liron a reaffirming smile. "Alright," Liron said. "I… I believe… you."
Zonis beamed, closing his eyes as he smiled at Liron. He walked slightly bent over, as if in need of a walking stick. He wandered over to a bed, sitting on it. He sighed. "My, I feel my age," Zonis said, sighing.
Liron rubbed his chin. Zonis' alien appearance stood in harsh contrast with his human behavior. All he had ever learned of the Fleshdancers spoke of carnage given form. Zonis had none of that. He put on a green robe with a hood, looking at the others.
"I take it you have discussed the current state of affairs?" Zonis asked.
"Yes," Jean said. "And with your arrival, we can discuss our strategy. We have five days until our target will be executed. Due to our lack of resources, a frontal assault on the bureau is impossible. Without further intel, we cannot plan in-depth, but it is apparent that our best chances lie on the day of the execution itself. All attention and guards will be focused on one point in time and place, but they won't have the security of the bureau, giving us a better chance.
"The only guarantee we have is our method of escape. Elisabeth herself has contacted the Grand Janloo Company. She successfully negotiated an altered route. They will fly over Kupferrang on the day of the execution. But they will not stop for us to keep plausible deniability of not supporting the Resistance."
"The grand… what?" Liron asked. Angin had mentioned them by name but hadn't given an explanation.
"Merchants, Liron," Zonis said. "They are masters of Alchemy. Their Machinas are more advanced than the Empire's in many regards. They have modified their homeland, turning them into flying islands. With them they travel around Ekon, trading with all that want. They are friendly towards all and accept everyone who asks as long as they haven't earned their ire. Their islands are magical. Majestic, the way they soar through the sky. Freer than birds, they call all they see their home. More open-minded people you will never meet, Liron."
"They're like the Frederick-Tolpert University," Angin said. "They've made a deal with the Empire. They provide their service to them, and they leave them be. A part the Janloon insisted on was that they were allowed to carter anyone who hadn't pissed them off."
"Angin!" Zonis said. "Don't curse like that. You'll have a bad influence on Liron."
"Already too late for that. Well, the important part is the Empire has agreed to that. With certain limitations, of course. Janloo can't just transport Elisabeth Ashburn or Wran without the Empire losing its shit."
"Why did they want that?" Liron asked. "What's the point of allowing anybody to get on their islands?"
"The Janloon are a curious people, Liron," Zonis said. His voice sounded like an elder, telling a fairy tale to children. "They seek understanding with all. They speak all languages and believe in being a saving hand for those in need."
"That and it's quite good for business."
"Angin!"
"What? It's true. What you say is true, too, but the Janloon are smart people. They know the value of having many friends all over Ekon."
"This cultural exploration aside," Jean said, an annoyed edge to his words. "The Grand Janloo Company has promised to alter its course. If asked by the Empire why they appeared on the day of the execution, they will claim to have hoped for great trade, as Kupferrang will be filled with people. To keep this lie alive, we will have to reach them without their overt aid. Due to the battle that will ensue, they will only be there for moments. If we cannot make it on the flying island in the short window of time, we will have no clear way to flee."
"What then?" Liron asked, but he knew the answer already.
"We die," Jean said. "We stand no chance of victory against Adenius and his machinations. The next few days, we will have to gain as much intel on the exact resources Adenius has access to and sabotage him wherever we can. He cannot be underestimated, but an advantage we have over him is Kupferrang. The city is too immense for him to cause harm. The Inquisition couldn't ignore the death of thousands of people because of him."
Liron had hoped for an encouraging end to Jean's speech, but instead he turned around and sat in front of the writing desk, reading through his notebook. The day was a long one, and tomorrow would prove more treacherous than anything they had faced before. He needed the rest, but before he could calm down, something had to be said.
"Thank you," Liron said, addressing all present. "Thank you for helping me save my sister. I… I will repay you."
"Of course, you will," Jean said, not looking up from his notebook. "Your sheer presence will be a great asset for the Resistance. You will be a symbol of defiance and prove the Empire can be taken down. You and your sister are required."
Angin stared daggers at Jean, but his eyes softened when he turned to Liron. "Always, my boy. I've got you."
"There is no need to thank me," Zonis said, smiling a gentle one. "It is a pleasure to help you."
Liron nodded, scratching the back of his head. "I… I will promise you that my sister will be worth it. She has been… an admirer of you guys."