The halls of the fortress were quieter than usual as Sergeant Yuromi Ashill scampered through the dimly lit corridor towards the bridge connecting the central fortress tower to the main wing. Years of visiting her mother had made her haphazardly comfortable with entering, despite her lacking permission to do so. The central keep was a place for the upper echelons of the guild. Not a place for a lowly sergeant unless explicitly invited. Officers of her rank feared being summoned and dreamed of being invited to the central keep. To Yuromi, it was just another familiar place. Long ago had its wonder waned to the familiar. Being the daughter of Patzau Ashill had ensured that even as a small girl. She had practically grown up here.

Crossing the stone arched bridge between the two portions of the fortress, she looked out across the familiar city below. The twin domed-palaces loomed high, beacons of prosperity in the centre of the city. In the harbour, ships carrying goods crossing the glittering bay like little insects venturing from their mounds. Further to the east, Yuromi could even see make out some of the blackened remains of Mudtown just beyond the city’s tall walls. Mudtown now looked like a scar across the earth, brown and blackened. Beyond, the distant mountain’s peak faded to grey and to the north, tall dark clouds loomed, hinting at another seasonal storm to follow.  

Yuromi approached the guarded entryway into the main keep, usually reserved for more senior officers, but walked through unimpeded simply because of her name. Respect towards ranking officers was one of the core tenants drilled into new soldiers: the type who join the guild looking to impress their friends or a romantic interest. The ones who want a chance to walk in uniform and carry a sword. But, as it turns out, soldiers also respect rank by association. Yuromi had uncovered these advantages at an early age. And much to her mother’s dismay, she continued to abuse her family name from time to time. Regular and unfettered access to the central keep was just one such of those advantages she continued to abuse.

In the main fortress, wax candles burned day and night. The dreary walls of brick and stone were blackened where the hot wicks licked the dark walls. The floors were slippery from years of wax clinging to the polished stones despite all efforts to clean them. However, here in the main keep, illum stones replaced the dim candle flames and a warm even light filled the halls with a comfortable glow. The stones of the central tower were cut and interlocked, instead of the jumbled-together mess one would see commonly in the main fortress. The myth was that the officer’s tower was an ancient structure, build even before the time of kings; that the ruler who had constructed it killed his workers who helped him build it so that nobody else would know it’s secrets. In reality, it was the youngest building added to the fortress.

Ascending the main stairwell, Yuromi climbed to the top landing seeking her mother’s office. Her heart raced with every step. There was a mix of emotions returning to the tower again so soon. This was her mother’s domain, despite its familiarity. At the forefront of her cocktail was nervousness. Patzau Ashill was known for being a strict leader. Yuromi knew best that she was a far stricter mother. Adherence to protocol was compulsory. And in the back of her mind, Yuromi knew that her transgression wouldn’t go unpunished, despite her good intentions.

And with neither her sister or mother coming home last night, what choice did she have? A small breach in procedure was necessary. Their sprawling family estate felt haunted in its emptiness. Despite the servants and gardeners and soldiers, the place felt lifeless. Perhaps for longer than Yuromi was willing to admit.

Much like her ancestral home, Yuromi found her mother’s office disappointingly vacant. Where the woman had gone, Yuromi couldn’t fathom. There hadn’t even been a soldier stationed at her door. For a split second, she almost considered entering. Voices from a room on the far side of the tower changed her trajectory.

Yuromi turned, drawn by the voices. Perhaps her mother was in a meeting. She was always in meetings. Approaching, Yuromi listened intently for voices she might recognize. She knew everyone on this floor: Elvi, Yanello, Joakim, Horval, and even the administrators. When none of the voices inside matched her expectations, nosy curiosity took hold, supressing that voice inside that warns you against bad ideas. Whoever the people were inside the small meeting room, they weren’t supposed to be there.

Instead of walking to peer inside as Yuromi had originally intended, she found herself creeping closer with soft steps and held breath. The voices within became clearer. They were arguing amongst themselves in hushed voices, low and conspiratorial. Pressing herself against the wall beside the door, Yuromi listened intently.

“How could he possibly know how much we took? I say we skim a little off the top for our hard work and then hand the rest over” a man’s voice echoed within the small room.

“To hell with that” another voice echoed, “we could split what’s here six ways and disappear. Live like kings. Never work another day in our lives.”

“You would go rogue?” a third man’s voice countered. “I’m not doing that. I’ve got children and a family. We’re being paid plenty well for what we done. I’m not uprooting my family to some shithole village in the mountains to go and live with the savages just so I can live a bit richer.”

“Not a bit richer” the second voice said, “You could build your own castle with this much silver.”

“You think you could pocket that much coin and make it out of the city alive?” A woman’s voice spoke. “You’re scant mad!”

“I think I could do it, yeah” the man responded. There was genuine belief in his tone.

Silver? Yuromi thought, enough to buy a castle? What the hell are they talking about?

“Enough!” A heavy voice cut through the chatter and Yuromi’s blood froze. “We put it to a vote now. Has to be majority. Understood?”

Yuromi covered her mouth with her hand, desperate to stifle her shock. That’s Gal Burm’s voice, she realized. She recognized it immediately. They had been close, once. As children. Different choices had created a rift between them. The same one as Yuromi and her twin sister. However, Burm and Kida remained close, despite his campaigns into the mountains. Spirits, what exactly have I stubbled upon?

Burm’s voice continued, “I count two hands, Roz, Cap, Seer, and myself have voted against. We ain’t taking it all. But… I think its only fair we take a little off the top. As a bonus. For merit and services rendered.” All voices echoed consent

And then it clicked. The silver. The robbery. The assassination. A gasp slipped from Yuromi’s lips. Cold terror ran down her spine as she prayed the soldiers inside didn’t hear anything. Yuromi’s mind raced as she struggled to process the words she had just overheard. Enough silver to buy a castle? Burm’s squad of elites has tracked down the auction house thieves. They’ve caught Yohati’s assassins. Or perhaps, that prince’s assassins. She wasn’t sure about that detail anymore. They’ve got the silver.

Her heart raced deafeningly. It felt as if its beat alone might reveal her place outside the thin door. Disbelief mixed with fear. The Burm family was as rich and powerful as her own. Older even. What use did a man like Burm have with more money? The damage to his family’s reputation would far exceed the potential gains. Wouldn’t it? Gal Burm was one of her mother’s most senior Captains. A rising star. The most battle-tested prodigy with deep family connections. His betrayal of guild principles bit deep. As Yuromi stood pressed against the cold stone wall, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

Inside, Captain Burm and the others continued talking. “It’s settled then” Burm said, “We skim a little off the top and deliver the rest as promised. We’ll move the goods after dark, just like before.”

Deliver the rest? As promised to whom? Yuromi questioned. Movement within the room brought her back to her senses. The scratching of chairs on stone floors and the rustle of heavy armour sent a flutter of panic through her. She was still crouched by the door with nowhere to hide but in the open hallway. There was nowhere to go, not while remaining hidden. Yuromi took a step back from the door and turned to leave. To find her mother. Instead, the door swung open.

Yuromi’s heart plummeted. Standing in the doorway was the intimidating figure of Captain Burm. His eyes narrowed on her. This was it. She had gone looking for trouble and once again trouble had found her. The looming captain wore an expression that was a mix of alarm and suspicion. Yuromi found herself attempting to peek past him, despite her best instincts. She craned her neck trying to catch a glimpse of the treasure within the small room. Burm moved intentionally, blocking her line of sight, then calmly closed the door behind him.

Yuromi opened her mouth to speak but the captain spoke first. “You shouldn’t be here” he announced. His voice was loud and authoritative. The voices within the room fell silent. “This floor is reserved for senior officers” he added with an intense disdain.

“I’m looking for my mother” Yuromi said, feigning both annoyance and ignorance. Anything but suspicious. It had always worked before. “Is she in there?” Yuromi asked in a deliberately informal tone. Better he thinks I’m here as her daughter rather than for guild business.

“No” Captain Burm answered, looking around. “She’s not here.” he said with a finality. “And I am still your superior officer, sergeant. Do not forget yourself. You will refer to me as such.”

“Well, do you know where she is?” Yuromi demanded impatiently. “I need to speak with her, captain.” She could feel the animosity festering within him.

“Did you check her office?” Burm asked.

“Of course… I-uh, mean yes, captain” Yuromi answered.

“How long ago did you check?” He asked.

And there it is, the question within the question. “Just a moment ago” she answered, doing her best to speak as naturally as possible. She prayed he would believe her.

“Next time, sergeant” Burm said, “I recommend asking the soldiers at the gatehouse. They always know whether or not Patzau Ashill is inside the fortress. It will save you the trip up here, not that you’re supposed to be here at all. Are you Sergeant? Now leave, and I’ll let you go with just a warning. Am I understood?

Yuromi sucked in air quietly, realizing she had been holding her breath. “Yes, Captain” she answered. “Is Elvi in there with you?” she asked.

“No” he answered. “She’s not here either”

“Understood” Yuromi said, “I’m looking for her as well.”

“I haven’t seen her” Burm said dismissively, ending the conversation. “Good luck with your search.”

Yuromi saluted, then turned back towards the stairwell. She squeezer her eyes shut as she walked away, pleading he would simply let her leave. Her heart beat so rapidly it felt as if it might burst from her chest. Only when she reached the stairwell did Yuromi open her eyes. Imaginary embers twinkled around her vision. She felt as if she were going to vomit. Or feint. Or both. To her surprise and relief, Burm didn’t follow her. She descended the tower in haste, only slowing as she approached the bridge connecting the inner keep and the outer fortress. She crossed the bridge casually, not wanting to appear hurried, or desperate, or panicked. He could be watching her, after all.

And he was. Burm leaned in close to one of the small windows that overlooked the bridge. He watched her march across the bridge and through the large entryway into the main fortress. Most of all, he hoped he’d done the right thing. He roared in anger. The others in the room remained silent. His squad waited for his fury to subside, none wanting to be on the other side of it.

There was an unspoken tension. They were all thinking the same thing. Seer entered the room, closing the door with a soft click. “The whole floor is clear. She was the only one up here” he announced. Burm muttered curses under his breath.

“Do you think she heard us?” Rozi asked, putting their fears into words.

Burm looked back at his second in command. She looked pale. They had been talking treason openly. How fucking stupid are we, he thought. “I don’t know… I don’t think so” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Which sister was it?” Capu asked.

“Yuromi” Burm answered.

“The one with the scar” Rozi added and Capu nodded in understanding.

“If it was Kida, it would have been fine. Fuck!” Burm repeated, slamming his fist on the wooden table. Silver coins fell from their stacks noisily. “How bloody unlucky is that.” He shouted. “Anyone else in the entire guild could have walked in on us and I’d have tossed them over the cliff in a heartbeat. But Yanata’s fucking daughter of all people!”

“Why didn’t you?” Seer asked.

“How do I explain that?” Burm answered angrily. “Everybody knows who she is. The sentries would have seen her entering the keep. She could have told somebody she was coming here. How do you explain it if she goes missing? Or worse, somebody sees us fucking toss her.” He paced back and forth in the small room. “Fuck,” he repeated, “if she heard everything, we’re fucked.”

“What do we do?” Rozi asked. “We can go after her. Tail her and knife her in the streets if the opportunity arises? Burn the body.” She twirled her knife in her hand as she said it.

“That’ll never work” Capu said. “Streets are full of soldiers dealing with the Mudtown bastards. People are on edge, watching the streets from their windows. They’re afraid of the violence spreading. Theres no chance we get an opportunity to stick ‘er without her noticing she’s being followed.”

“Crossbow could work” Rozi suggested. “But that gets messy real fast since the body can’t disappear.”

“Spirits” Seer said, “It’d be all out war if one of the Patzau’s daughters was assassinated out in the open. We’d be marching out in war columns within a week.”

“Ashill might think it was the gangs” Burm said, thinking aloud. “After another important figure. That might be the solution we’re looking for.”

It was storming again and the canals were flooding a muddy brown torrent through the city streets. It had been a nasty storm season. Just one more problem to have to deal with, Patzau Minoc thought as he tapped his fingers nervously on the table. Only one seat remained empty. Patzau Ashill had yet to join them and Mellen was starting to get worried. The other six Patzau sat around the circular table in similar discomfort. Not until the cut-off time was reached would they be able to proceed without her.

He eyed the other six Patzau sitting around the wooden table. Patzau Yohati appeared his regularly stoic self. He looked unphased considering the attempt on his life just a few short days ago. Nor did he seem bothered by the fact that his impulsiveness to act had plunged the city into chaos. Merchants had been scared into hiding. Business was stagnant. The flow of coin had slowed as Casoyans collectively held their breaths. Food was being horded. Between the floods and the burning of Mudtown, everything felt more precarious.

Patzau Adagizhi of the Resources Guild was having a silent conversation with Patzau Murocil, who had returned from her diplomatic mission across the Starlight Sea. With all of the conflict brewing within the city, Mellen regretted not having the opportunity to speak with his old friend sooner. He would catch up with her after the meeting concluded. So long as they both weren’t too exhausted. On the other side of the table, Patzaus Hadashenta and Onudar were also having a hushed conversation on either side of Patzau Powanati of the Banking Guild. Powanati appeared to be listening to the two men while simultaneously reorganizing and straightening the documents before him with a nervous propensity that Mellen’s observations, and then subsequent spying, had come to learn was a regular nervous tic for the man. Good, he thought to himself, let the greedy coward squeal. Unfortunately, Mellen also knew from the same credible source that Powanati was a man fueled by his anxieties, not weakened by them. He would be well prepared today.

The doors to the chamber swung open and a soaking wet Patzau Yanata Ashill clambered into the room, turning heads. She crossed the room and took her seat, two to the right from where Mellen sat. She looked exhausted. In truth, they all looked more haggard. It had been a difficult week. Despite her appearance, he celebrated the fact that she still attended. Losing her vote this day could be devastating for the future of his guild. And anything bad for the artisans would be bad for Caso as a whole. There were too many greedy hands in the pot these days. No longer was there the air of collaborative problem solving that had defined the era of Patzau’s before… this. An era of leadership only Patzau Yohati was a part of.

“Apologies for my tardiness” Patzau Ashill said, taking her seat.

“We appreciate your attendance” Patzau Murocil said with a lighthearted smile.

“Yes” Patzau Yohati said, reaching for his ledger. “Let’s move forward with today’s agenda.”

“I don’t think so” Patzau Ashill announced rather coldly. “I invoke my right as commander of the city’s defenses to pivot our discussion to the war that is brewing. It is a matter of grave importance that threatens our safety and security. And, if left undiscussed, will be perilous.”

“What war?” Patzau Powanati asked. “There is no war.”

“Please,” Patzau Ashill sneered, “tell me the logistics of our military might. Perhaps after, Rake can speak on behalf of our food stores and while we’re at it, Mellen can go into detail about Ada’s diplomatic mission.”

“Yanata, please” Patzau Yohati said, trying to regain control of the conversation. “There is no need for that. We are not at war–”

“We are at war and it’s your damned fault!” she shouted. “Don’t even get me started on why were now at war because I swear to the spirits of the mountain and the spirits of the seas that this is an argument you do not want to pursue, Yohati.”

“There is no war” Patzau Powanati echoed, still trying to speak over her. “Arresting criminals and cleaning up our city does not a war make.”

“Oh, is that so?” Patzau Ashill mocked. “Then perhaps we do want to discuss how this all started. How Patzau Yohati was almost assassinated inside our own walls by an unknown aggressor. How he marched our soldiers, bypassing my command and overstepping his authority, against our own citizens–”

“Against criminals!” Powanati shouted.

Yanata ignored him, “How his disastrous arrests have led to riots both inside and outside the city’s gates. Our people accuse me of treason because of Yohati’s actions. His authorization of deadly force and the mass arrests carried out on his orders has led to violence and has endangered every Casoyan. And as a result, the gangs and anti-Casoyan militias linked to the inland tribes are given legitimacy. They’re using Yohati’s oppression as fuel for their bullshit agendas. They’ve gone so far as to strike military outposts deep in the remote reaches.”

“We know the aggressor was the Mudtown gangs.” Patzau Yohati said sternly.

“How do you know that?” Yanata asked. “Where is the evidence?”

“There have been trials and convictions” he added. “People have admitted to the crime.”

“Don’t even get me started on the mockery of justice you call trials” Yanata spat. “I witnessed several of them. I’m surprised your bloody-thirsty High-Judge Madaral went as far asking their names before beheading each one.”

Mellen prided himself on his intelligence network. He was already aware of the escalating conflict and taking precautions. Despite this, he was stunned by what he heard—this was a key piece of gossip that hadn’t yet whispered into his network. Somebody has worked very hard to keep this under wraps. But which was it? Ashill or Yohati?

“I’m not here to discuss any of that right now” Yanata continued with a warning glare at Patzau Yohati, whom sat across from her. “I’m here to bring forward the following problems that we will face. We do not have the soldiers to be everywhere at once. We staff our interior garrisons with enough soldiers to maintain order, but not strong enough to quell insurrection. If violence escalates in the mountains, we do not possess enough trained soldiers to march and maintain active policing here in Caso, and also support people affected by the flooding. We lack the soldiers.”

“I’d like to discuss these trials you’ve mentioned” Mellen said, interjecting. “What did you mean when you referred to them as mockeries of justice?”

Patzau Ashill cast him a forceful glare. She ignored him and continued, “We will need more money to support and launch an army if the people in the mountains revolt. We are not ready if things get worse than they are, and it appears they will get worse very soon. An extra four or three- or four-thousand-foot soldiers would suffice.”

“It will economically disastrous,” Patzau Adagizhi added. “Losing access to the natural resources grown and mined in the mountain regions. My guild’s stores of resources will hold for a few months, perhaps a half year with rationing, but the consequences will be damaging, especially if food becomes scarce. Patzau Onudar, perhaps Patzau Ashill can recruit from your members?”

“Most of the workmen apprentices and craftsmen are Caso born and I’ll need them,” Patzau Onudar answered. “Most of the labourers in my guild weren’t born here. I don’t know how much I would trust them in our ranks. These mountain-born are lazy. And the ones who aren’t are treacherous. Probably the very people we’re hoping to eliminate. Crooks and savages, the whole lot.”

Mellen frowned at that.

“Additionally, there isn’t enough coin available” Patzau Powanati announced.

“What do you mean?” Yanata pressed. “How is there not enough coin available? We just approved additional taxes on members of Mellen’s guild. You made it clear that a large portion of those levies would support my guild’s requests for funding. I am asking for that funding now. To protect us. To protect you!”

“Pay and food rations for thousands of extra soldiers will cost a fortune. For more than what is levied” he answered. “We simply don’t have that kind of coin sitting around; especially to spend on a threat that hasn’t reared its head. Your worries are based on conjecture and speculation.”

“Speculation?” Mellen scoffed. “What nonsense is this!? Are you so sheltered by enclave of wealthy bankers that you haven’t noticed? Or, are you purposefully ignorant to the plight of the common person?”

“Shut your mutt mouth” Powanati growled.

“Mellen!” Yohati spat the name venomously. “I will initiate a vote” he threatened.

Patzau Minoc ignored Yohati and continued in his contempt, “There have been eruptions of violence outside the city’s walls daily since the attack. People are demanding the release of the hundreds taken prisoner” he added, turning to face Yohati. The older man glowered back with a new hatred and a near equal level of loathing. “Now, after knowing we’ve executing them all in what one of our very own is calling ‘bogus trials’, we have sealed our own fate. Retribution will come; we’ll pay in blood for what you’ve done.”

Novish Powanati gave Mellen a dirty look. “I have done nothing.”

“And you seem far too proud of that fact.”

“Please” Patzau Adagizhi cut in. “Let us get back on track. Mellen, hold your wicked tongue. Provoking each other won’t serve us any good. Yohati, we’ll discuss your role in this later. And Novish, it is not your place to debate the validity of Patzau Ashill’s accounts. She is telling us that our soldiers cannot handle these protests outside the city and any potential uprisings in the mountains while also supporting flood relief efforts. We will need to direct more of Onudar’s workers towards supporting flood mitigation and cleanup.”

“Agreed” Patzau Murocil said.  

“There is a problem with that solution” Patzau Onudar chimed in. “I don’t have spare guildsmen. My top advisors are reporting that my guild’s labourers are not appearing for work in the same numbers as needed to sustain us. And I know its these mountain-born beggars who’ve come and brought their lazy tendencies and backwater beliefs. My guild is drowning in these types. I am certain they are the ones behind this shortage of bodies.”

“Or perhaps there is a more probable reason,” Yanata Ashill said, “and these people are absent because they are helping to rebuild the scores of homes that Yohati burned in his Mudtown assault and the hundreds more that have been affected by recent floods. We have not sent soldiers to support flood relief efforts outside of the walls and they will not be received well after what happened last time.”

“I didn’t burn anything” Yohati protested.

“And yet without your actions, nothing would have burned. Therefore, you are at fault. You have caused this whether you intended to or not.” she reprimanded.

“The violence outside the city walls has grown unchecked for years” Yohati countered. “Now, that violence has spread into our city, like a festering wound. Our citizens are no longer safe. The attack against me and my family has proven that the influence these criminal gangs have has grown too strong and is rooted too deep. We cannot afford to be complacent. It will destroy us, if left unchecked.”

“You mistake caution and subtlety for complacency” Yanata countered. “I have spent years maintaining peace and order. The gangs and criminals feared us. Yes, they were violent but never before were they so openly defiant. Reflect on where a heavy hand has left us and then come and criticize my policies again. I dare you.”

“Do you think that our citizens are safer now? After what has happened?” Patzau Murocil asked. “From my point of view, you have overstepped your station, fueled conflict in the outer territories, put innocent lives in danger, and harmed our economy in one fell swoop.”

Mellen spoke into the silence that followed, “Had it been anyone else, Yohati, I’d have expected a resignation.” The room fell silent. Breaths held.

Patzau Yohati responded in a calm even tone, “You forget yourself and you forget who it was that cast the first stone. I did not want this, Mellen. I was attacked. My family was attacked” he added, punctuating each word. “Assailed openly in our streets. Guests and soldiers in my care were murdered. Soldiers loyal to this city were murdered. This was an act of war, make no mistake.”

“So, it is war then?” Yanata grumbled.

“My orders to apprehend these vile criminals was necessary. Time was of the essence. To sit idle would have been an affront to justice. I did not order the burning of homes. I did not order the mass arrests or killings. My orders were to catch the perpetrators and empty the crime-dens. I will not apologize for being a man of action.” He glanced pointedly at Minoc. “I am a man of action, not complaint. This path was not my choice, but it is our duty to burn away the leeches that make our city bleed. We will raise an additional army, and with the help of strong allies from across the seas, we will reclaim what these opportunists covet. We will overcome this and emerge stronger.”

Patzau’s Onudar, Hadashenta, Powanati, and Adagizhi practically cheered. Even Patzau Ashill appeared relieved by Yohati’s promise. So, this is it, Mellen thought, staring at Ada. In that single, shared glance, a thousand feelings passed between them. At least he wasn’t alone in facing the end.

Lost in himself, Mellen sat un-listening as the city’s Patzau conspired. How did Yohati do it? Break every law, bypass every safeguard, and start a war only to emerge more powerful for it. Then, revel in it with no remorse. This will mean war. It will be destructive and costly in ways they can’t imagine. Lines will be crossed. And in the end, we will crush them—for fighting back against the wrongs enacted against them. Wrongs we, their leaders, ratified. And in doing so, we destroy ourselves. Because they are us. We are one and the same.