Chapter 18: Vertian Winds
Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception.
— Niccolò Machiavelli
"Who is she to you?" He raised a picture of Lira.
"Do you think I go about sleeping with everything in a skirt?" Ino asked, not looking up from the document in hand.
"She was once a slave on this mine." Adrian added.
Ino paused, looking up from the document to the picture.
"Honestly, I don't know. She's Kuiji's business, but her hurl brought so much wealth to the syndicate that we had to have our signatures on every document with her name in it." He said, after pondering for a bit.
"You asked no questions?" Adrian said.
"Not my business." He turned back to the documents in hand.
"You are surprisingly not as nosey as I thought you to be." Adrian said.
"That's just how the streets work safely."
Adrian just stared at him continuing to flip through the pages.
"Also, tell that bastard Yujiro that once I lay my hands on him, he'll regret living." Ino said, noticing as Adrian still stood there.
_ _ _
'Now we have to move to Vertia.' He thought, looking out the windows.
"Considering your power it wouldn't take too long." Lira said.
"Sadly we have to go by ship." Aryan said before Adrian could reply.
_ _ _
The trees did not end.
They rose like cathedral spires, their bark silver-white, their canopies so high that clouds formed beneath the lowest branches. Roots the size of city walls twisted through the earth, and between them, the Wood Elves had built.
Not on the land.
Into it.
Houses carved from living wood. Bridges grown, not built. Streets that were simply spaces where the roots had decided not to go.
Lira pressed her palm against a trunk.
Warm.
Aryan stood apart, his hands behind his back, his smile in place. But his eyes moved.
Tracking.
"The mana feels different," Lira said.
Adrian finally looked up. He raised a hand. Let the air move through his fingers.
"Older," he said. "Slower. It's been here longer than Cascyn's ports. The people of Cascyn worship mana and nature."
Caw.
A bird the color of rust landed on a branch above them.
Caw.
Then it flew away.
"Welcome to Vertia."
The voice came from between two roots. A Wood Elf stepped out. He was tall—taller than any gyn Lira had seen. His skin was the color of pale bark. His hair moved like moss in wind that wasn't there.
He did not smile.
"I am Silas Vorn. I have been sent to escort you to the guest hall."
"The reception?" Adrian asked.
"Tomorrow." Silas's eyes moved to Lira. Paused. "Tonight, you rest."
Thud.
He turned and walked. Not waiting to see if they followed.
The guest hall was a dome of woven branches, large enough to hold a hundred. Inside, the air smelled of sap and old honey.
Lira stood by the window.
Outside, the forest breathed.
In.
Out.
She could feel it. Not mana. Something older.
"You should sleep."
She turned. Adrian sat on a bench, excel dark for once. Aryan was already gone—somewhere in the trees, doing whatever Aryan did when he wasn't smiling at people.
"I'm not tired."
"You're lying."
She didn't answer.
Adrian studied her for a moment. Then he looked back at the ceiling.
"Vertia is where the old laws still apply," he said. "Cascyn was trade. Money. People like Ino who see slavery as efficiency. Here..."
He paused.
"Here, they see it as tradition."
Lira's hands tightened.
"That's worse."
"Yes."
Silence.
Crack.
A branch outside. Or a footstep.
Adrian didn't move. But his eyes shifted.
"Kuiji Illius," he said. "They call him 'the Malicious.' Not because he's cruel. Because he's polite."
Lira frowned. "I don't understand."
"You will."
He rose.
"Sleep, Lira. Tomorrow, you'll need your strength."
He walked to the door.
"Adrian."
He stopped.
"Why are you really here?"
He didn't turn.
"Because Aryan asked."
Then he was gone.
Lira stood alone in the woven dome.
Outside, the forest breathed.