Another interesting detail regarding crafted Liberty items. They are impressively uniform. Where the Furyborn focus on aggressively individual crafted items, we at the towers strive for the middle ground. We like the tried-and-true methods, yet adjust our methods and creations to suit the individual protectors. Items from Liberty? They seem to arrive from the same molds, with the same crafted benefits. Some of them are even permanent, if weak. That’s another point in favor of the theory that these are military items, “lost” and off-loaded. But how can you mass-produce crafted items, and with permanent benefits even? Maybe some of the strongest wielders here are crafters? (Page 15.)
“I’ve done it! I’ve done it!”
The words slowly pulled Chase out of his trance, from where he was learning how to wriggle his left ear.
Silly as it may look, it was one of Sera’s mental exercises, albeit one he’d never managed to properly connect with. It required the user to mentally isolate and engage their body, one muscle at the time, in a fixed rotation. Properly mastered, it helped distance the practitioner from outside distractions or boredom – something that Chase sorely needed in their new home – and eventually helped them improve fine control of their body. He’d attempted the exercise numerous times, but had never been able to distance himself properly to get past the silliness of it. Now, with too much time on his hands, and few distractions, he finally made it – and to his surprise, he’d even gained an increase to Agility from it. Not Mental Power. Agility.
Blinking as the importance of the shouted words finally struck him, he leapt to his feet and stared at Cilia. She sat at her work table, surrounded on all sides by pointy and sharp implements arranged in a meticulous pattern that nevertheless made Chase think of a torture chamber. In her hands, she held something. A leather bracelet, almost simplistic in its creation, with it being nothing but a braided and reinforced pattern of three leather strips looping into each other. Yet, every visible part of the leather strips had also been carved with tiny, near-invisible patterns, adding to the sensation of the leather forming endless loops.
“Are you certain?” Sera hastened over from the other end of the room. She and Chase ended up staring down at Cilia from across her work table.
For the past weeks, Sera had kept two cards active whenever possible. Well, three, to be exact. Knowing that they would stay here for nearly a month, she’d activated Home Defender too, because she could activate that, and then switch over to another card with it still granting its boost.
[Home Defender
Rare, Fury healer
Tier three
Passive, permanent
Some people do not care about home. Others will take what they have and defend it to the last. This lets you designate an area with a one-mile radius for yourself, where you will always have the upper hand against any intruders. Inside that area, your attributes, except Potential, and the attributes of those allied with you, will be increased by +3.
The effect of the card will remain active, regardless whether you switch to another Tier three card. Once activated, you cannot establish a new home area for a full month.
“I was unaware the Wind-torn Healer lived here… Lads. I’m sorry. Put those weapons away. We’re going home.” A sergeant saves his men.]
Spark of Divinity was straightforward, easy to use and a godsend. It granted an increase to whichever attribute you chose – in this case, Mental Power for Cilia’s crafting. The boost was not overwhelming in itself – five points.
The real difference here came from Blessing of the Night. At this point, the boost from Blessing of the Night more than doubled any buffs. In this case, that resulted in a total increase of eighteen from Spark of Divinity and Home Defender combined. Yet, that paled in comparison to the synergies with Cilia’s cards.
Cilia, even without cards, was at forty-seven Mental Power. Ritual of Fire boosted that to above eighty, with Chosen Focus: Fire easing the use of the ritual and reducing the draining effect. Blessing of the Night on top of that improved the boost, shooting her Mental Power to above a hundred and twenty-five – and that was before adding in Spark of Divinity and Home Defender.
All told, the full effect should land her just above a hundred and fifty Mental Power, though the math, according to Sera, became questionable at a certain point, because they had to make up any tests and comparisons themselves, and some effects, like the From Farm to Table card, were not calculable.
Chase didn’t honestly understand which level they had reached. It wasn’t important to him, either. What was important was that he knew them. He knew their strengths, their limitations. Yet, he was no longer certain that the usual limitations, as he knew them, applied to Cilia. She was approaching a level of competence and mental capacity, where they had to constantly readjust their sights and goals upward.
Cilia was often taciturn. Feelings, to her, were not something that needed to be projected every other minute. Her friends knew how she felt about them, so she did not need to spend energy on showing exactly how she felt at every single moment.
Right this moment? She glowed. An almost-tangible sensation of self-satisfaction surrounded her, along with the tiniest bit of awe.
“I haven’t tried it. But the sensation. It works. I am sure.” In an insecure voice very unlike her, she said. “Try it on, Sera.”
Sera took one look at her, to see if she was being serious. Then, slowly and gently, she grasped the bracelet and reverently slid it over her hand. It rested on her wrist, a bit tight on Sera’s well-trained wrist, where it would fit perfectly on somebody a bit thinner.
Above the leather bracelet, the painted Devotion to Liberty card on their arms was starting to flake off. Even though the paint clearly held magical ingredients, it was not supposed to last forever. According to Reen, that was expected, and he had somebody else who would re-paint the image before they left. These days, it left them all looking strange, as their real cards started peeking out underneath the covering fakes.
Chase had always loved the image of Blessing of the Night. It depicted Serafine herself, cross-legged in the moonlight, soaking in power and exuding strength in equal force. It was equal parts peaceful and ferocious. Now, goosebumps traveled up his spine as a shimmer ran up her forearm, ever so slowly covering both the fake image and Blessing of the Night. In its wake remained Devotion to Liberty, yet not the inert, dull image they had carried. This had everything of a real card. The shimmering edge around the card. The ever-present sensation of motion, as if the contents of the card were about to leap out of their constraints. And the Savior at the center of the card looked real. Intimidating, present. All-powerful.
“Liberty free me.” Chase breathed. Then he snorted as he realized the irony of the outburst.
Sera held out a shaking hand, then caressed the image on her hand. Her hand didn’t pass through the illusion. “It hides everything below, and it still looks like my own arm. How does it even do that?”
“That part took me a while.” Sera admitted hoarsely. Her gaze was transfixed on the image, a single tear running from the corner of her eye. “I have to give credit to Reen. He managed to secure a shipment of shimmer moles. They’re these Lightborn Guardians that… you don’t care. The point is that they their skin takes to illusion magic like nothing else. Now that I know which sensation we need, I can create five or six of these a day, and I believe I will be able to make them permanent, too.”
Chase coughed. “Really? I can’t wait to see Reen’s face when he hears that. The sour-faced bastard is going to pee himself when he realizes that his dream has come true.”
“The sour-faced bastard knows how to hold his water.” A voice emerged from behind Chase. “He also tends to react when he hears yelling from nearby.” Ignoring Chase’s mumbled apologies, he strode across to Sera, reached out, and then gingerly retracted his hand. It trembled, ever so softly. His gaze traveled from the bracelet to Cilia and back. “Permanent? Can you really do that?”
“Yes.” She simply said.
Reen’s eyes met those of Cilia, boring into her with an intensity the sullen Liberator had rarely exhibited. “With this, you are going to save a lot of lives. Mark my words, I will repay you properly.”
“If you really want to repay us.” Chase said. “Help get that documentation done so we can get out into the city.”
“It will be done by the end of today.”
“I… okay. That wasn’t the answer I expected. You’ve clearly been busy. Thank you?”
“No need for false pleasantries. Cilia has already done more than enough to repay me a thousand times over.” He bowed deeply to her. “When you decide on any targets for your robberies, do talk to me. I will aid you in making this worth your time, and more.”
The interchange preceded a change in personalities that was almost scary. Reen went from being recalcitrant and careful with his information, to answering any question they had – any question whatsoever. Now that he realized he’d actually be able to keep those under his charge safe and start rebuilding properly for those who’d found themselves repossessed by the system, he didn’t hold back.
The city of Salvation opened to them.
A full day later, with Cilia having created a full complement of illusionary bracelets for their group, they took their first proper stroll through the city. Not as a full group – Reen had been very insistent that the makeup of their races would make them stand out too much – but one by one, with Reen striding along, helping them come to terms with how to find their way around, how to act and what to look for.
Chase drank it in and asked for seconds.
It wasn’t difficult, really, understanding the intricacies of Salvation, once you started taking in the details. The incredibly wide-spread capital with the low buildings and the ever-present, dull facades that all looked the same except for the varying colors of the buildings. Yet, behind the immaculately maintained walls, Reen explained, the people living their lives were as different as everywhere else in the world. A few were true believers, following the words and commands of the Savior with abject devotion. The rest just wanted to find a place to be and live in peace.
Outside of the color schemes, there was no room for nuances in Salvation. Either, you were part of the system, lived and breathed within the rules set up to contain you, or you were… well, a living god, really. Because, as Reen explained with several horrendous examples, anybody who deviated from the system was removed.
Everything was set up to enhance that setting. There were few public places, where citizens were able to congregate, enjoy themselves or plot against the state. There were no pubs, no libraries, (This, Cilia took as an affront – even the Lightborn empire had libraries, even if they were closed to the public.) or, really, places for anybody to form attachments to anybody else. You were part of the system, yet always fully, horribly alone. Even the public kitchens, where those of the mass ate, were created with solitary eating stations, so as to discourage mingling.
The sole standout from the dull, perfect monotony of the city lay in the palace. Everything about it, made it stand out at the center of the capital. The tall towers that were visible from anywhere within Salvation. The colors, dark blue that seemed to pulsate and draw the eye. The way it was set apart from the rest of the city by a wide, open plaza of paved stone, also set in a dark blue color.
That palace told a story. One that even a simple person like Chase could decipher. It explained, in no uncertain terms, the same thing that the walls surrounding the upper city of Isarn did. “We are better than you. We are more important than you. Know your place, peasant.” Except, with the Lightborn nobility, there was always the dream of one day being able to earn enough that you’d be able to join their ranks. Not here. The palace was removed from the rest, and the only way to truly become part of that would be through war, risking your life again and again on the frontlines, and showering the Savior of Liberty with the well-earned Ænima stemming from your kills.
Chase hadn’t been in the city for a full month, and he already wanted to burn the damn thing down.
For the next week, there was nothing for them but dedication to investigation. They walked the streets, learned what they could, and returned to share it with the others. While they did this, Cilia and Nordon kept crafting every day, all day, until even Nordon said that he was getting a bit sick of the taste of his own concoctions.
Little by little, however, they expanded their horizon, and, with Reen’s help, learned. They learned how much of the city he knew, how many people were willing or unwilling members of his net. Most were simple members of the mass, people willing to do a little work for a little extra, be it medicine, crafted items, or simple promises of aid, should they need it. Those of the hand were less direct, able to aid with copies of information, slight deviations from the norm in their bureaucracy, omitting a tiny detail to give him an opening where needed. Reen also admitted that he rarely did interact with those of the heart. However, large parts of his energy were dedicated to them, to figuring out who he could safely approach, who was too dedicated to the Savior, and who might be able to make some larger-scale changes unheeded, in return for gifts or favors.
They got increasingly familiar with the Liberty Keepers. Spotting them was the hardest part. The Guardians in other nations were wildly varied. Same here – except, they tended to be smaller in size. Also, something had been done to them. Likely some detail handled through the Wellspring. Not only did they have some sort of camouflage making them blend in with the background. They also were, compared to other Guardians, more lifeless and static. The first time Chase spotted one, hidden in plain sight on the roof of a house, he almost leapt from the shock. The squat figure looked more like a burlap sack leaned against the edge of the roof than anything else. Yet, thought its body was immobile, the eyes were constantly moving, observing. Following that, they became more and more adept at finding the Keepers.
Once they learned how to spot them, they started learning more and more details about them. How they rarely reacted if you looked like you were about proper business. How body language, noise and surprising movements were what ticked them off but they’d ignore most everything that fell within ‘normal’ behavior.
Following an unexpected experience with a cart collapsing from a bad axle and a large, winged shape extricated itself from a rooftop and slamming down in the streets moments later, they learned how some Guardians would move in person, if they decided there was a reason for it. That experience also showed them that their forged documents did indeed hold up to surface scrutiny.
Every evening, they’d round off with two meetings. First, dinner with Reen, where they discussed the discoveries of the day, attempting to pump him for additional information. Then, they’d return to their own rooms to see how much closer they’d gotten to their real target.
“Damn. That’s that entire quadrant off the table, then.” Chase said, leaning forward and pointing at Reen over the table with a half-eaten sausage. “Honestly, man, is there anybody left in the southern parts of the city worth robbing who you haven’t made deals with?”
Reen had undergone something of a transformation over their stay. He laughed more, brooded less, and was less likely to be insulted by any barbs. “I’m sure you can find a few. I do need something to do for the future. Don’t want to get bored.”
Chase snorted and inclined his head. “I’ll drink to that. Or, I would, if Nordon would ever finish some of his good stuff!”
“The good stuff, as you so correctly name it, is for trading.” Nordon smirked. “You’ll drink the cheap ale I brewed with Reen’s bad equipment and be thankful.”
“You’re the worst dad!” Chase exclaimed. Then broke into laughter along with the rest. “Honestly, man. Your bad ale is pretty damn good. Also, I thought you couldn’t even brew ale this fast.”
Nordon tapped his left forearm proudly. “You can’t.”
Shaking his head in amazement, Chase turned back to survey the others.
Kith was gesturing at Cilia, explaining some interaction he’d seen with exaggerated motions. Liam had pulled up his sleeve, and was clearly talking about some combination of cards and their effect, while Sera nodded sagely, brows furrowed in contemplation.
It was as relaxed a gathering as they’d ever had. Chase decided the time was right, and leaned over the table at Reen. “So. Hear me out, mate. You’ve made it pretty obvious that most Liberators, even the hearts and minds, have… let’s say, limited riches. That those who have the most interesting stuff lying about are generally out of our reach, because they’re partners in crime with you. Right?”
“I’d agree with you so far. That, of course, is not to say that they have nothing. You have seen the difference between us hands and the mass. The differences between me and the hearts, and the minds again, are every bit as pronounced. The Savior provides for those who aid him the most.”
“Right. Right. Only… how do I say this.” Chase grimaced, choosing his words carefully to present the lie as convincingly as possible. “We haven’t made it as far as we have to make it back with a handful of pretty vases and wall paintings.” He leaned forward even further, whispered. “We’re going for some good stuff, hear me?” Leaning back, he nonchalantly suggested. “So, how about this. You’ve got the palace. Huge damn thing. Really, a city to itself.”
“No.” Reen’s voice was ice cold.
“Nah, hear me out. What I’m saying is, you’ll know where your precious Savior is at certain times, right? There’s… ceremonies and stuff.“ Chase grinned. “This means, with the right preparation, a scouting tour or two, with Radine up top to look out for us, we’ll know exactly where to hit. And I’m damn sure the palace will have some fun stuff – items the Savior, being a god and all, won’t even miss. Goods that will allow us to retire into luxury once we’re back out of the blissful lands again. The only thing we’ll need is your advice and help, what you can gather about the palace, so we know what we’re doing.”
“No.” Reen repeated. Any hint of relaxed comradery had entirely faded from his expression. He spoke up loud, interrupting the other conversations. “I am going to say this only once. Back off from the palace. Any attention there is going to see us all in camps.”
“But-”
”No. If you insist on continuing with this, you will not be staying here. You have given me some wonderful creations, and hope for the future I didn’t have just weeks ago. But, mark my words. This will see you dead or trapped, and bring me and all of mine down with you. I will not stand for it.”
A while later, they were back in their own rooms, kicking back.
Chase, groaning, tried to fling a blanket over his shoulders. Getting tangled with the fabric, he cursed and his left arm and hand animated with a flash. He pulled the blanket around himself and scowled. “That could’ve gone better.”
“Exaggeration of the year, brother.” Liam smiled. “Boy, he did not take that nicely. Why’d you do it again?”
“Liam, we agreed to this.” Sera sighed. “If possible, having Reen’s information on the palace would make our approach much easier.”
“Except I blew it. I should’ve been much more circumspect about the whole damn thing. Slowly built to it.”
“Wouldn’t have changed a thing.” Kith said. “You saw him. He’s pissing himself from the mere thought of going up against their precious Savior. Nothing we say or do is going to change that.“
Still scowling, Chase slowly nodded. “Okay. That means we hold the course. Do a small job or two, just to show Reen we mean business, circle closer to the Palace. Then do an investigate run, when?”
“Six days from now, during the day. I’ve been able to get my shades close enough to the palace to learn a few things.” Kith’s smug smile lit up the room. “Not only are there no Keepers right inside the palace. None. Not a one. But they have a daily tour of the premises. Apparently, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing for newly married people. Be awed by the splendor of the Savior’s palace – that sort of thing.” He grinned. “Also, they arrange the written documents, showing who’s allowed to visit – in a hand’s house outside of the palace. Chase and I can get to those in seconds.”
“I’m all yours.” Chase perked up, rubbing his real hand against his shining one. “Good. This will be a true test of our skills, and we’ll have to assume this can go horribly wrong. Who’s going?”
“We all are.” Cilia intoned with finality. “This is the first step of where we need to go. If anything goes wrong? We all stay together to deal with the consequences.”
Sera nodded. “We are all in this together. For good and for ill.”
“Good. In that case? We have six days to learn as much as we possibly can, get prepared, and pull off a smaller heist.”