Cassius Lange
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Riftside 3 - Chapter 11
🕑 Added 2025-08-03 15:00:09 +0000 UTCMy boots click-clacked on top of First Steel as I slowly walked the circle with Mara in silence. She’d insisted we head up there to continue our conversation , to give space for Enar to get back on his feet and return to his family, but I knew it was because she wanted to sound me out by herself. She could still shut me up if needed.
I didn’t think she would. Mara was in too deep now, and she knew that she needed me, and I was going to push that for everything it was worth.
Mara stopped over the closed west gatehouse and stared down at the portal and the people moving to and from, leaning her hands on her axe. I’d stored Roq, wanting to control the conversation without any outbursts of rage.
Dawnwatch’s constant sounds of hammer, shouts of foremen, and the ever present grinding of the saw mills filled the air around us.
In the end, her patience won.
“So,” I said, breaking the silence. “This apprentice. What’s her story?”
Mara’s gaze remained fixed on the swirling vortex as she cleared her throat.
“Her name is Lan. She’s sixteen on her fourth year, a level twenty-one water mage, and all kinds of trouble.”
That was a more direct answer than I’d expected.
“Why trouble?”
“Her parents were nobles from out east. Came to Tharungia to be adventurers. Got to level forty, only to die Riftside. Her mother, also a mage, wielded a soul weapon, a staff. When they fell, one of their party survived. A coward. He stole the staff and fled, instead of bringing it back and passing it onto her daughter as he should have. I hunted him down.” Her voice was flat and devoid of any emotion. “I killed him and returned the staff to Lan.”
“Just how hypocritical are you?” I asked, frowning at her.
“What?”
“You just threatened to murder us and steal our soul weapons not twelve hours ago.”
“Keep your voice down,” she said, turning around and shooting me a frown. “And I didn’t, did I?”
“What’s different between him and you then?”
“I’d be requisitioning your weapons for Central Command, and he was a thief.”
“If you truly believe that, then you are so far gone that I don’t know how you can even look at yourself in the mirror in the morning.”
She chuckled.
“It ain’t easy, I admit, but someone has to do the dirty work, and I’m good at it. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“But—”
“I didn’t take your weapon, nor that of your girlfriend, so let it go.”
“Fine. Was it Central Command who told you to hunt down the thief, too?”
“No,” Mara said. “They don’t know Lan has a soul weapon. I was her father’s apprentice, once. When she told me what happened, I went and paid my debt.”
I scoffed.
“Leave it,” Mara said. “The past is the past. I’m here, talking to you now. Seize the opportunity.”
I pushed down my frustration with some difficulty. Why couldn’t humans be as black and white as the monsters? It would make things so much easier. They were either good or evil, but no, there was this utterly maddening gray area in between, which was ‘humanity’.
“So she’s an orphan with a soul weapon,” I said, forcing the conversation back on track, a knot of understanding and apprehension tightening in my gut. “And a lot of emotional issues.”
“A walking Glowcap with a leak,” Mara agreed. “But you--no, your party is stable. Annoyingly so. You and the archer,” she gestured vaguely in my direction, “Have as healthy a relationship as I’ve seen from young adventurers. Sayani is a powerful, independent mage, the type I hope one day Lan would grow into. And the Northman… he doesn’t take shit from anyone. She won’t be able to bully him, which is good. You were even ready to take me on. The loyalty is almost maddening.”
“Why not build a party around her? If she is so powerful, there must be other adventurers you can trust?”
“I’ve tried everything else. Those I trust… they couldn’t handle her. Those who can, I don’t trust not to steal her weapon. Maybe your brand of, let’s graciously call it chaotic good, is the only thing that can ground her.” She actually sounded tired. “If you tell Vos I called you good, I’ll deny it.”
“I will talk to my team,” I said. “But, while Lan is with us, I am her commander. You give up all rights as her mentor. I cannot have my authority second-guessed in the field or her bitching that she doesn’t recognize me as the leader.”
Mara looked away at that, out across the plains surrounding Dawnwatch. That nearly endlessly flat landscape.
“Agreed,” she said. “I’ve tried everything else. Why not this?”
“Now, let’s say we take on your apprentice,” I said, “What is Central Command really doing to win this war?
“It is not for me to share the strategy of Central Command with a low level adventurer,” she replied, though her heart didn’t seem in it.
“We just contributed one of the greatest innovations to the war effort in…what? Decades? If what you said is true. I think you can give us some damn leeway. Besides, you can always take it away later, can’t you?”
Mara shrugged.
“Yes, I can tell you and then decide to kill you to keep it a secret. It’s a waste, but sure. Just remember that you are the one who asked for this.”
“Deal,” I said, thinking that in the worst case I would jump the wall and just make a dash for the riftside, heading out of Sentinel Station. My party would come to find me and everything would be…not okay. It was impossible, I knew. She’d catch me, but let it all be damned. I had to know.
She took a deep breath.
“First, what has your weapon told you?”
“Everything,” I said. “We know of the Hive Minds, their hierarchy of lesser and greater minds. The fact that we are facing an empire, and we’re just one inconvenient colony it hasn’t bothered to fully squash yet.”
She nodded slowly.
“Good. Then you understand why this information can’t leave this wall. Our high command knows the enemy is overwhelming. They are like a plague of ants, spreading in all directions from…wherever they come from. But their ambition has outpaced their ability to consolidate. It is the only explanation for why we are still alive. If their full attention were on Noros, we’d be cinders within a year. They must be fighting on other fronts, against other foes we know nothing about, ones many times stronger than us to warrant that kind of attention.”
“That is our perception as well,” I said. “But it’s good to know we view the problem the same.”
“Sure,” she said, looking over at me. “Now, something about Noros, the way monsters turn to gems here must have thrown them off. They thought it would be an easy victory. Now they can’t spare enough strength to finish it.”
“So what’s our strategy?” I asked and leaned against the wall.
“To understand it, you have to take yourself mentally out of Dawnwatch and into the shoes of Central Command,” she said. “Because there are three things we need, none of which is Dawnwatch. It is simply one piece on the board.”
“What are they then?”
“First, we have to figure out what winning looks like. A true, lasting victory. We’ve managed to relegate most of the fighting to Riftside, but that’s not victory, it’s a stalemate we are slowly losing.”
“Close the portals,” I suggested, remembering the discussion I had with my party. “Or find allies on other worlds and slay the Hive Minds. Every single one of them.”
“Good ideas,” she said. “But we don’t know how to do either. Which leads to the second need. Once we define victory, we have to figure out how to achieve it. Do we need pure strength? A legion of mages? Thousands of low level adventurers that would go below the Hive Mind’s senses? Without knowing the goal, the path is impossible to chart.”
“I understand,” I said. “But what’s the third?”
“Time. Both to figure out what victory is and then to prepare and execute on it.”
“But you don’t know when they will turn their attention on Noros and crush us,” I said.
“True, we don’t. Which is why figuring out the winning condition is our second priority.”
“Second?”
“First is not to die from the attacks we’re currently facing. We may be hiding some strength from them, but not much. Today’s discovery will help, but it will take time to spread the knowledge and prove it to the point that Central Command is willing to risk advancing our top adventurers.”
Her eyes held a deep, weary weight.
“Do you know how to shut portals?” I asked.
“No. I don’t.”
“Does that mean Central Command doesn’t know?” I asked, pushing. “Are they even working on figuring it out?”
“I don’t know. While I am part of central command, I’m not a leader.” She sighed. “Look, you’re going to find this out sooner or later, but knowledge is compartmentalised in Central Command and the guild overall.”
“Why?”
“Because if the enemy captures an adventurer with key knowledge it could be disastrous for the war effort. Which is why I didn’t want to tell you this in the first place.”
“But you did?”
“Yes, because now you owe me.”
“Owe you what?”
“An answer,” she said, and grinned.
“What's the question?”
“How did you get Roq to break through?”
I chuckled.
“You really don’t know?”
She couldn’t quite hide her look of frustration. “No. I don’t.”
“I’ll trade you the knowledge in exchange for a class gem for my party.”
Mara scoffed.
“Don’t push your luck.”
I just shrugged as casually as I could.
“A class gem can’t be that much for her, can it? Just requisition one from central command and have it transferred here. I’ll accept your word for it.”
Mara stared at me, pursing her lips, and I could sense her calculation of how much she needed me versus how much I was costing her.
“Look,” I said. “Roq won’t work with you. He won’t work with anyone but me, and if you try, he’ll drive them insane.”
“I doubt that.”
“Is it worth the risk? I’m not wasting that class gem you know. All you’d be doing is strengthening an adventurer. Come on, it’s just a class gem!”
Suddenly Mara smiled.
“You know what, I’ll do you one better. You take in Lan, as your fifth party member, full member that is, then I’ll…by the bells, I’ll throw in two damned class gems.”
I spit in my hand so fast I nearly missed and held it out.
She spit in her own and we shook on it.
“The secret’s simple,” I said, still holding onto her hand. “Soul weapons breakthrough with class gems. Same as we do. Feed them one, the right one and watch what happens.”
She stared, a rare crack in the mask, and groaned as I released her hand, the pieces fitting together.
“Yup,” I said. “And there’s not a single class gem left in Dawnwatch after boosting all the scavengers. So, when you ask the Central Command to send one for you, remember the two for me as well, please. One for a damage warrior and one for a ranged archer.
She scowled at me, but I could see she was struggling to hide a smile.
I’d given her invaluable knowledge and played her at the same time.
*
The day after I got up before the sun, and instead of my usual armor, I pulled on my best tunic and trousers. It was the day of the funeral for all those who passed in the surprise attack by the Hive Mind, and those murdered by Serona.
It felt weird, dressing for something other than battle. Almost as if the war was over and we could just return to living.
Eryn waited for me downstairs. Knut had left earlier to meet and escort Doctor Ridley, and Nabeeh had gone to find Edwin, so we had a simple and cold breakfast together, alone. She wore the simple, elegant dress I’d bought for her and looked gorgeous.
We walked out into the gray pre-dawn light, joining the silent stream of people making their way toward the lumber yard, where the Ritual of Ash and Steel would be held.
The scent of Steelhusk and sawdust filled the air and nearly a thousand souls stood in concentric rings around the massive pyre of wood, a silent, unified testament to our loss.
We slowly made our way through the crowd, hand in hand, into the innermost circle to stand with the other adventurers, representing the line of defence against the monsters. I nodded to Shay on my right, the flames hot on our faces. Behind us stood the guards, and beyond them, the civilians.
Only a skeleton crew of volunteers led by Vos and Mara held Sentinel Station, with the rest of the town here, united in its sorrow.
The ceremony began.
Harold, his Guildmaster robes looking more like a funeral shroud, cleared his throat.
“We are gathered today not only to grieve those lost, but also to celebrate their sacrifice,” Harold said, standing on a podium, slowly turning so he could speak to us all. “The monsters struck, taking much from us. Too many, by far. And so did betrayal inside our very own walls. All their deaths cut deep, but their memory will bind us together. It will not break us. We will grieve, and we will honor, and then we will build.” He paused to take in a breath. “For every name spoken tonight, let a hundred new acts of courage be born. The enemy has not broken us. We stand on ash and steel, and by the bells, we will endure.” He paused again, and only the crackling of the flames could be heard.
“Let us begin,” he said.
One by one, the grieving families walked through the crowd to the pyre, each on a new path snaking through the crowd. As they reached the pyre, they threw in a personal belonging of the fallen while calling their name. It was repeated thrice. Once by the adventurers, once by the guard, and once by the citizens. Each call louder, and with each, Harold threw in a scoop of ashes from the previous pyre, symbolising that all who defend Dawnwatch become one foundation for the future.
The fire heated our faces, but we stood unflinching, proving to the town we could stand the pain. We would not yield to the monsters.
A young boy, his face streaked with tears, threw a carved wooden bird on the pyre.
“Jordan,” he choked out, before his mother led him away to the chant.
Each name, each offering, was a fresh wound.
With the last token placed, the last name called, we slowly stepped away, walking to find the ones we knew and offer our personal condolences.
Eryn led me over to a line that led to Martha’s husband. He stood with their two small children, thanking people as they offered condolences, and some, a small gift.
When it was our turn, a small smile broke onto his face at Eryn’s dress.
“Her handiwork…” he said. “I’d know it anywhere.”
I nodded.
“She made beautiful things,” Eryn said, her voice soft.
“Her most beautiful creations,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to his children, “Were these.”
Eryn took his hand and pressed three gold coins into it. “For…” she swallowed, and shrugged. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” he said and turned his face away, losing the battle against tears.
I led Eryn away, giving him space.
“We have to find a way to end this,” Eryn said, her grip on my hand nearly painfully tight.
“We will,” I promised, but the words felt hollow after my chat with Mara. We were still a long way out, but at least we knew where to look. And look we would.
