Chapter 222 – Return to Alkazaria

Mirian opened the Mahatan Gate, sent a zephyr falcon to Gabriel, stole Prince Rehiz’s jeweled lotuses, then headed down to Urubandar.

A few days later, she found Gabriel in one of the palaces he liked to buy, surrounded by prostitutes and servants. The place reeked of alcohol, and Gabriel was swinging about a bottle of wine like a musical conductor. His robe was partially undone.

Mirian frowned. “Gabriel. You’re supposed to be learning Gulwenen and researching the Labyrinth.”

“Heeey! Mirian… hey everyone, this is Mirian!” the Prophet called to the room. He was only slurring his words slightly. “She’s great… bit humor challenged though, and can kill an archmage. Hey Mirian! Have you killed an archmage?”

“Yes,” she said. “Leave us,” she told the servants. When no one moved, she projected her aura out and thought NOW!

Every person in the room jumped, except Gabriel, who started laughing.

“Yes, yes, okay, fun’s over, everyone can leave—except you,” he said, pointing to an older servant. “Tell the kitchens to prep my regular.”

“Your regular, sir?” the servant asked questioningly.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair dramatically. His robe was now completely undone. “Oh, right. Have to teach them every loop. Cheese platter, then two of the spiced kebabs, then one of those rice dishes, you know the one.” He paused, then said, “No, guess you don’t know the one. Ah, pick a good one.” When he was done with the order, he sighed again like he’d just finished pushing a boulder up a hill and leaned his head back into his cushions and stared at the ceiling.

“Gabriel. Put your damn penis away,” Mirian snapped.

“But it’s so beautiful,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Or I’ll cut it off,” Mirian said.

That got him to sit up. “Fine! Fine! God above, no need to be so snippy. You and that Persaman brute, both need to learn how to relax a bit.”

“And you need to learn to relax less,” she said.

“Naahhhh,” Gabriel said. Then, “I’m going to teach that cretin. Maybe I’ll cut his dick off. That piece of shit. I came in, and I apologized. Besides, I didn’t kill his fucking family. I just brought the RID the intel that Dawn’s Peace was shifting tactics. How was I supposed to know they’d tell Baracuel to send in the bloody army?”

Mirian looked around. All the chairs were very comfortable looking, but she didn’t want to sit on any of them. “How does Ibrahim know it was you?”

Gabriel let out a long groan, head lolling back in his chair, then took another swig of wine. “I was one of the agents that infiltrated Dawn’s Peace.” He looked straight ahead, then his face contorted and he hurled the wine bottle he was holding. The glass shattered against the wall, purple liquid splashing across the flagstones and soaking into the woven carpets. “I was drinking to forget, by the way,” he said bitterly.

“I’ll talk to him. You can’t change the past. But you can build a better future.”

Gabriel snorted. “You really think that. Have you picked up a history book?”

“Several, at this point.”

“It’s always been like this. Fighting. War. Atrocities. Right now, Zhighua is getting trampled by soldiers, but a few thousand years ago, they were the ones conquering and slaughtering. Persama’s weak, so Baracuel and Akana come in, but it used to be the Triarchy slapping everyone around. Didn’t like being conscripted for their grand projects? They’d take your corpse and animate them. Even the dead didn’t have their rest. It doesn’t get better, the toys we use to kill each other just get fancier. Artillery instead of spellrods. Airships instead of spears. Just have to hope you’re on the right side of the bloody tide as it sweeps across the land.”

“Then this is our chance to fix it.”

“Can’t fix it,” he grumbled. “It’s who we are. It’s what humans are.”

Mirian shook her head. “I refuse to believe that. The Viaterrians—”

“—all burned to death in the Cataclysm. They only have the one name because that’s what we call them. Doesn’t mean they were one people. They probably did the same shit.”

Then how did they build such magnificent cities? Mirian thought. She had a hard time reconciling the colossal towers she’d seen with even more destructive weapons. “Look at people. The ones you see walking around every day. The ones working a job, raising a family. Most of them just want a nice, peaceful place to live. A few luxuries, like wine and glyph lamps. Days to relax and celebrate.” She thought of what the RID was doing in Akana. She thought of Zayd, who liked sweets and running about in parks. “If people can be shaped into instruments of war, they can also be shaped into instruments of peace.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Tell that to Ibrahim. Or Liuan.”

“Liuan and Ibrahim bickered the whole meeting,” she said.

“Of course they did. Liuan believes in Akana’s military supremacy, just like Ibrahim believes in Persama’s. The only thing they agree on is fighting.”

“Then we change their minds. They didn’t always believe that.”

“You really think that—” he started, but then the door opened and three servants brought out trays of food. It smelled delicious. Mirian found her mouth watering despite herself. Gabriel inhaled deeply, then picked up a kebab and started devouring. Through a mouthful of food, he said, “Ough, amd morgh wine!” as the servants left.

“Have you tried being less disgusting?” Mirian asked, picking up one of the kebabs herself.

He swallowed and wiped his mouth with a sleeve, covering the fine fabric in oils. “No. Didn’t care much for my reputation before all this, and now it really doesn’t matter. What was I saying? Oh, you want the report I bet. Well, sure enough, there’s sea monsters moving north along the south coast, so didn’t make it all that far. Got shipwrecked but made it to a village, and you bet I practiced my Gulwenen there! Started looking at ship reports and such at the docks so I didn’t waste my time. Haven’t found any more Vaults, but there’s a Labyrinth entrance east of Alatishad. That’s it.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Mirian said, even though she wasn’t particularly feeling thankful. That’s it? she thought, but she could tell from Gabriel’s tone he knew he hadn’t accomplished much.

Then, he stood up very suddenly. “Oh! I built a leyline… what’s the word?”

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“Detector?”

“Detector! Yes! Put it somewhere around here…” He started looking around the room.

“How many, um, drinks have you had?” Mirian asked.

“Only two.”

“Glasses?”

“Bottles.”

Mirian put her head in her hands. “Tell you what, we’ll let you sleep that off and then find your leyline detector. And I’ll tell you what we got up to when you’re sober.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Gabriel said, sitting back down. He started staring off into space, and Mirian took that as a sign to take her leave. She found a room in the palace that looked untouched and began fortifying it with wards.

***

The next day, while he nursed a terrible headache, she went through the updates of the Council of Prophets. Then, he revealed his leyline detector.

Mirian looked at it with only some disdain. It was functional, but only barely. “Did you calibrate it?”