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Story: Earth Mover

Instead of heading straight for the main gate like they expected, I darted around the line of tall shrubbery alongside the wide walkway and used their minimal shadows to my advantage. A cacophony of clambering armor and yelling from the guards passed by in a stampede, shortly followed by Irin himself, storming down the path. I was sure he would head over to The Hanging Cat first, then check the guild. I just had to wait them out long enough to get out of Gilamorst and through Covenant's Crossing to the north, then head east toward Julra.

I wasn’t going to let the likes of a delusional prince slow my progress in finding who exactly Gennel Rhen was. But I would need to go back to the place I’d been avoiding for a hundred years, and I was dreading the implications of cracking those seals on my secrets.

Chapter Sixteen

Irin

Today I was approached by one of the necromancers who studied under Princept Morrette, one who chose to stay in

the City and become a researcher. Her name is Beta Gin-Allan, and she had just begun her studies in necromancy.

The day Golath invaded Julra, Beta saw Princept Morrette at the front of the infantry line, with a small group of

undead they had raised to assist the Julran army. In the end, she saw the Princept get overwhelmed by a platoon of

Golath soldiers as the rest of the refugees escaped. She stated if it hadn’t been for the Princept, there would have

been nochance for their escape. It sends chills down my spine to think that there is someone powerful enough to

raise the dead and command them to fight. Given the opportunity to continue their studies, how far would Princept

Morrette have been able to push a power like that?

-"The Tragic History of Julra," by High Scholar Yuret Wend, Year 39 of Ber's First Reign

“Gennel is gone.”

Sett, my spymaster, kept his head high and feet shoulder-width apart, hands held behind his back in a rigid posture. His eyes missed nothing, taking in where everything was placed on the desk I sat behind. Particularly, his eyes lingered on the sharp letter opener just to the left of my folded hands. The sleeveless black tunic tucked into skintight leather pants left nothing to the imagination, showing every ridge and line of muscle earned in hours of hard training. But he stood so stiffly he could have been a statue, face emotionless, as if waiting for my judgement on if he kept his job.

I didn’t blame him for being tense. I was sure I sounded a bit erratic when I sent him to investigate Gennel and Nebold on nothing more than suspicions. It felt unbalanced, knowing things Sett didn’t and sending him in blindly. I hadn’t even shared the revelation that Gennel could be a woman with Beolf, and I told him practically everything. If Sett was right in his report, Gennel may have already been spooked and slippedout from under our watch with a different appearance. The implications were nerve-wracking to think about.

“Did it seem like he left in a rush? Anything left out, or haphazardly placed?”

“No,” he huffed out in a bitter laugh. “The place was immaculate. No one seemed to be bothered by his absence, so it appeared as if he had left on a planned trip. His staff didn’t know where he went, either. Apparently, that’s not uncommon for him to leave for entire moon phases.”

Trying to keep the rage down was like trying to stop a raging river by standing in the middle of it. I was very close to being swept away entirely, and I wasn’t sure when I would get my footing again. “How can he just be gone? He’s the treasurer for all the guilds. You would thinksomeonewould have a clue where he went!”

I was too bitter to admit I was probably supposed to be one of those people who knew. Sett was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

“I have more to report.”

In a rather unsophisticated manner, I slouched lower into my chair and proceeded to pinch the bridge of my nose. It was a challenge, but I focused on the steadywhooshingof breaths in and out of my nose to try to calm myself. “What else could be wrong?” I asked drolly.

“Guildmaster Nebold Briton, of the Necromancer’s Guild, is confirmed dead. His body was found in the guild’s crypt.”

Shit.“Go on."

Sett’s brow crumpled, obviously thrown by my lack of a reaction to the news. “The guards on patrol in the guild sector mentioned it to me in our briefing this morning, so I assumed they had told General Zirch. Haron Val Toric was the one who found his body and reported it.”

My head was spinning, full to the brim with stress and confusion, to the point everything else was drowned out. It felt like I was on the edge of a cliff, teetering over the edge to a full-blown panic. Even trying to focus on Sett now was like listening to his muffled voice from underwater.

The guilt was eating me alive, realizing Haron could have been right about it all.

“Haron claimed she was attacked by someone she thought was the guildmaster and raised the entire crypt beneath the guild to defend herself. As it turned out, the real Nebold's body was among the group of the dead. Whoever attacked her managed to escape from the study window.”

“Gods…" Even hearing the information for a second time had me reeling in disbelief and confusion. The fact Haron wasn’t a blubbering mess when I last saw her was a testament to her grit. Alongside concern for her well-being, my admiration for her swelled in my chest. “Did you manage to speak to any other witnesses of the incident?”

“I did more than that,” Sett answered. “I infiltrated the guild myself and searched the entire building. The wards are startlingly weak, as if they had been tampered with. The stories of the guildmembers who witnessed Haron’s mass resurrection aligned with what Haron had reported to the patrol, that the imposter had sealed the study, attacked her, and she defended herself by raising the dead. That’s how Nebold’s corpse was found.”