Immortal Shield Chapter 12: The Battle of Formouth
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Tagging: @seradyn
Caelan let out a depressing sigh as she tucked her cell phone into the pocket of her pants. She had attempted to call Ardyn several times. Each time it went to voicemail. Though there was a trickle of worry Caelan had regarding him, she assumed Ardyn must’ve been asleep. Night was beginning to make its presence known in the Leide region as the colorful skies disappeared and made way for greys and blacks. Caelan assumed it was darker over in Duscae given the more forest and swamp terrain. She wasn't going to lie to herself, it did hurt not hearing his voice this evening. Her nerves were beginning to show. Ardyn's voice had grown to become a comfort for such emotions.
As Caelan pulled the Scepter over and got out past the Three Valleys, she could see several constellations as the moon began to take over for the sun. Caelan readied the camera that Florens had let her borrow for this mission, making sure the settings were night friendly. She didn’t want to risk screwing up the photoshoot while she had a rare chance to see what the Lucians at the stronghold were up to. Once complete, Caelan took in a deep breath and summoned Raksasha, making sure the blade would be ready to use if worse came to worse before willing the sword to disappear again. As the sword popped back into it's own dimension, Caelan's thoughts ventured to Ardyn. A part of her wondering if he was ignoring the calls on purpose.
"He's a grown man. If he had a problem with you, he'd straight up say something. It's Ardyn for crying out loud." Caelan said to herself, attempting to self soothe all the while subconsciously psyching herself up for what the night would entail as she went back to her vehicle and started the engine up.
Later on, Caelan parked the Scepter far away behind some trees in the desert off a dirt road path. She walked the rest of the way towards the ruins of the Norduscaen Blockade, where the Formouth Garrison didn’t lie too much further. It was a fifteen minute jog, and when she arrived at her destination, Caelan was surprised to see how the ex-Niflheim base was bustling with life. There were lights as far as the eye could see. Many Lucian troops lurked around the perimeter as well. They were armed to the teeth, and whatever was going on behind closed doors she couldn’t make out. Walls sealed away all of the bases secrets, and Caelan muttered a few curses knowing this wouldn’t be enough evidence to get anyone higher up to do anything.
Crouching down behind a hill, Caelan kept her stomach to the ground and crawled with the camera. Once she got to the top and felt safe, she rose the upper half of her body and snapped a few shots of the entry point. The camera was silent as the lens clattered away, and after she checked the screen to make sure she got a few clear shots, Caelan began to scout the entire area of the base.
It was hard to say how long Caelan traveled around the strongholds entirety, but she collected almost a hundred shots. The most damning of them all, she got from a high point of a rock formation after climbing it. The photo showed there were hundreds of refugees in brown garb, mining material and doing other kinds of hard labor in a courtyard. Nevertheless, it wasn’t absolute proof of something heinous. Caelan understood how her evidence could easily be spun as a Lucian prison for people that committed crimes. If the shoe were on the other foot, Caelan could see even herself falling for it. Her gut told her to press on. The stories Florens shared, and the local gossip Caelan had picked up on about the stronghold when she needed gas was enough to convince her something was amiss.
Caelan arrived back at the hill where she started snapping photos. Her mind debating with itself. She did tell both Ardyn and Florens she would only be there to get evidence, nothing more. As Caelan did another once over of what she had discovered, there was no way any of this would bring closure to the elderly woman she was helping. A sigh left Caelan as she argued with herself, looking over the hill to see Lucian troops coming and going from the bases checkpoint. The impulse to venture inside began to dominate whatever second guesses she could feel attempting to rise. Ardyn’s warnings for her not to do anything hasty ran rampant for a time, until Caelan all but silenced his voice.
“I’m sorry Ardyn,” Caelan muttered in resignation. Her eyes started to scan for someone she could easily dispatch and steal credentials from, eventually pinpointing a soldier who seemed new at their job. A faint smile crossed Caelan’s lips as she carefully snuck towards the base, and waited to strike.
An hour later, Caelan walked out with her new garb. The Lucian helmets these troops in particular wore hid the lower half of her face. To further obscure her identity, Caelan donned a few small braids to the right of her hair, each accompanied by gold clasps that ran through the strands. There was a sick feeling that twisted in Caelan’s gut, knowing she had no right to put on display she was an honorable member of the crownsguard in this fashion. It was despicable on her part, as bad as spilling another crownsguards guts. However, there was no time to beat herself up despite years of indoctrination telling her otherwise.
Caelan approached the entry gate into the Formouth. Two men and one woman approached her as she signaled the formal crownsguard salute. The woman looked to be a chief with the bright red ribbons intertwined in her own braid, a few ranks below a commander. Caelan could tell from her dark eyes alone she meant business.
“What entry are you from?” The woman asked.
“The Haraakis unit, chief.” Caelan answered swiftly as she handed over her security cards for verification. She thanked whatever was listening that there was no photo IDs needed for these clearances. Most Lucian prisons required such things. This planted some seeds of doubt in Caelan that perhaps there was nothing monstrous occurring after all.
“Funny, I don’t recall the base summoning anyone from Haraakis. They were strictly put on Insomnian grounds for city watch.” The chief said as a matter of fact.
“That’s true,” Caelan nodded, playing into the role further, her brain drudging up facts and core memories of crownsguard men and women her father had trained her to memorize as if her life depended on it. “I was sent specifically by lieutenant Amshel. He's retired but still holds grounds over my unit. There’s an Accordo official working alongside us wishing to know if a war criminal is being harbored here.”
The chief handed back Caelan her credentials and sighed. “These Accordo assholes, I swear this alliance is doing more harm than good.”
“Tell me about it. I have to work with them quite often.” Caelan huffed with amusement, catching a smile from chief.
“So Jericho, you’re a war veteran.” The chief pointed out, gesturing at the braids and gave a few nods of approval. “Same unit you fought with?”
“Yes ma’am.” Caelan responded. “I was in infantry with the Haraakis unit when Niflheim seized Insomnia.”
“You must’ve been pretty young to be dealing with such a mess.” The chief expressed her sympathy as Caelan nodded.
“Yes, but that’s what we’re trained for, right?”
“No doubt,” The chief nodded to the male troops alongside her to go notify the gatekeepers they needed to let folks into the base. “What’s the name of the criminal?”
Caelan felt herself freeze. Kurt's last name wasn’t ringing a bell. Her mind searched through her memories rapid fire, but alas couldn’t come up with the proper response. Not wanting to gain suspicion from the chief, Caelan cleared her throat.
“Unfortunately, I wasn’t given a last name. His first name is Kurt. He’s a refugee from Niflheim last I saw on record.”
“No worries, we can easily search the database once we are inside.” The chief motioned for Caelan to follow.
Caelan kept her eyes forward as she walked alongside the chief, minding to always be at least a step behind to show respect. There were several times Caelan wanted to look around when she heard the rumbling pulse of the doors begin to open, but she knew better. If at any point she started to show curiosity, it would jeopardize her disguise. She had to be simple minded.
Easier said than done once the ghastly moans and desperate pleas for help started to echo throughout her ears.
Caelan felt every hair on her body stand at attention when she saw the inside base. Wall to wall. Back to back. There were hundreds upon hundreds of humans crammed together like discarded things in the back of ones closet. There were some Lucian troops forcibly removing men from their posts, children being ripped away from each other, and women pleading to be set free only to meet the end of a fist or baton. Whatever was convenient for the guard on post.
Cells were overflowing with people in different conditions. Some skin and bone, and others barely holding onto the muscle and fat left on their bodies. The stench was the worst, and Caelan couldn’t help but grimace as bile, blood, and other grotesque bodily fluids carried through the atmosphere. The sounds never once died down, not even when the chief led Caelan to an elevator, the two venturing inside. The wails and cries carried on even as the elevator began its ascension.
“Where did you find all these people?” Caelan couldn’t help but ask once the doors closed.
“Anywhere we want,” The chief smirked. “Pay no mind. Most of these Nifs will be sent back home to where they belong. This is only temporary. The rest, well, they will have to endure servitude until we get orders that say otherwise. It’s only fair given what they’ve taken from us during the war.”
“Ah,” Caelan nodded, doing her best to keep her emotions in check. The impulse to reach over and choke out the chief was growing. “The lieutenant neglected to inform me if this was off the record or not. Could you confirm? Would hate to let slip something I’m not supposed to say to the higher ups when I return to Insomnia. For the sake of not getting you into trouble.”
“Of course,” The chief began, ever so cordial. “Yes, this place is off the books. As far as anyone else in the kingdom is concerned, the Formouth is a supply storage where we navigate the provisions for the Nif refugees that were displaced during the war and Dark Decade. The kings treasury sends a monthly stipend and we get the supplies needed to fulfill orders, then spend what’s left taking care of the rats you saw earlier.”
“Is the king aware of what’s happening?”
“No, and we intend to keep it that way. For the safety of his highness and all Lucians.” The chiefs tone held a threatening pitch to it that Caelan took heed of. She did her best to come off as submissive as to not draw suspicion.
Caelan’s act seemed to work as the chief eased up and returned a more neutral stance. While taking a moment to compose herself, Caelan swallowed as she could feel and hear the screams and cries outside of the elevator blend in with the ones that were resounding in her mind.
“That’s the last of them!” Tempus hollered to Julian. He stood by his commanders side, and awaited for further orders.
Julian Zamfir’s cold stare met with every single Niflheim citizen that was on their hands and knees before the Einherjar. He ignored their muffled cries, the pleads of men and women begging for their lives and or children to be spared. It was all mere static to him. Noise that needed to be cancelled out as he motioned with his head towards his right.
“Zamfir, come here.” Julian ordered, his voice carrying far and wide.
Caelan approached her father with her head high despite her face giving away she was beyond uncomfortable. As she passed the families that had been rounded up by the Einherjar, a woman grabbed a hold of her leg. Caelan gasped, looking down into the dark brown eyes of the girl who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than she.
“Please, you don’t have to do this! Please, we had no part in the war!”
“Shut up!” One of the female troops of the Einherjar screamed, gesturing for Caelan to move out of the way before kicking the young girl in the face.
The girl immediately dropped with a snap, her breathing ragged as she reached for her nose as blood pooled everywhere from her nostrils. The scene was horrific yet Caelan looked ahead, her gaze fixed on no one else but Julian who held disappointment on his strong features. It became obvious to Caelan the closer she got, that Julian didn’t approve of her looking the girl in the eye when she reached out for Caelan’s boot. Nevertheless, when Caelan was not more than a few feet away from him, Julian’s expression softened.
“Zamfir,” Julian began. “Select one Nif.”
“May I ask why--”
“I won’t say it again.” Julian uttered.
Caelan swallowed nervously, giving a firm nod. She could feel her heart pounding erratically against her ribcage, knowing there was something sinister about the ordeal as her eyes rapidly glanced across face after face. The crying never ceased.
When Caelan had been caught by Tempus and Rux assisting Niflheim children who were mourning the loss of their parents Julian had killed the night prior, she thought her leg nearly being snapped would be enough for disobeying. Now, it seemed that was but a bitter taste of what was to come.
Caelan knew on a gut level, no matter who she chose, something bad was going to happen. She had been through this time and time again. Julian had grown unpredictable since the fall of Insomnia. His horror knew no bounds as he ransacked and pillaged any who were associated with the empire. One wouldn’t think a man such as he would be capable of cruel acts by looks alone, and that was likely how he and the Einherjar managed to get away with the bloodshed for so long.
Caelan gestured an arm towards the girl that had her nose crushed in. Two members of the Einherjar dragged her away from the rest of the crowd. Without warning, Julian nodded to his troops and in a matter of seconds, guns went off and blades pierced flesh. Cries and screams carried off into the air, yet nothing would return the call nor come to save them. All Caelan could do was watch. Her body shuddered, eyes formed into a tight glare as she tried not to show any emotional attachment whatsoever, but alas tears fell as over time the cries became fewer and fewer and the rich copper scent of blood became faint as her nose adjusted to it.
Caelan was trying to process what the hell her mind had bore witness too, when she felt something heavy being shoved into her right hand. Looking down, she saw the gun in her hand. Her eyes meeting Julian’s as he pointed to the girl that had been saved from the carnage. The girls eyes squeezed shut as she let out bellowing cries.
“Show it mercy,” Julian commanded.
Caelan didn’t say a word as she, without emotion approached the girl from behind and pressed the tip of the gun to the back of the girls head. The crying became worse, and all Caelan wanted was for it to end. With a yell, Caelan raised the gun and fired off to the side, prompting the girl to take off sprinting as a last ditch effort to survive. She didn’t get far. Tempus having cleaved the girls back open with one of his ax’s he tossed. She fell like a rock into the mud. Movements ceasing.
“Leave us!” Julian shouted at the Einherjar, and like shadows the unit of fifty men and women dispersed and retreated away from the area, not bothering to pick up the slaughter they left behind.
“Again, you deliberately defied me!” Julian shouted as he approached Caelan. His eyes were seething with rage as she flinched, her head bowed down. “What is it with you helping the Nifs? You know what they’ve done, and what they’ve did to our home, Zamfir and yet you still hold a torch for animals?! What have I done wrong?”
“You said we were going to get justice for everyone. You promised!” Caelan retorted, feeling a burst of anger that had been long welled up inside herself breaking at the seams.
“And I delivered!” Julian yelled. “And yet, it seems that this isn’t good enough for you!”
“No, no you won’t use me as an excuse for why you’re doing--this!” Caelan gestured to the bodies around them, a few desperate final chokes and groans still permeated the area as she continued.
“You’re unhinged! It’s been three years since Insomnia fell and no amount of blood you spill can fill you up! Have you no shame? If this was truly about justice, we would’ve stayed in Insomnia and fought back! You were looking for an excuse to kill because you didn’t have the guts back home because the crownsguard, not the Einherjar, would’ve held you accountable!”
“You have no right to speak to me in that--!”
“Look at this! It’s madness!” Caelan interrupted with a scream, once more gesturing at the carnage. Her voice desperately trying to appeal to whatever bit of humanity resided in her father.
“Daylight has gone extinct since prince Noctis disappeared! The darkness is slowly consuming Eos, and all you continue to think about is killing imperials? We should be helping people and uniting, not rounding up humans and butchering them like cattle! Shame on your blood!”
“That blood is also yours!” Julian bellowed. “And you do well to know your place, daughter! If anyone is to blame, it’s you! Had you stayed by Aila and August’s side when I told you to--!”
“You can’t use me as an excuse!” Caelan screamed, repeating herself from before. “Killing Niflheim families won’t bring back the one you lost! Mom and August are dead! Get it through your fucking head! They’re dead! And they aren’t coming back! I’m still here, dad! I’m. Still. Here!”
Caelan felt her whole world turn black for a brief second. A searing pain encapsulated the entire left side of her skull as she flew back. Her body landing in the dirt a few feet away. She slowly began to rise the upper half of her body, her hands clamoring to the side of her face that was throbbing with a terrible ache. Caelan winced as Julian stepped forward, hovering above her as she could only stare in fright. She was met with silence and a wounded glare. The likes of which had goosebumps forming on her arms. Caelan couldn’t tell if Julian was going to kill her or not, and the odds were not looking in her favor.
“Burry the dead if you feel so inclined towards them,” Julian said firmly. His tone morose as he shook his head. The disappointment and dismay he had earlier returned. “This is the last time you disobey an order, Zamfir. If you pull another stunt like that in front of the Einherjar, I’ll put you in the ground myself. I'll treat you as I've treated them.”
Julian stepped over Caelan, departing to find the rest of his unit, not before he gave a chilling and final proclamation to Caelan.
“Don’t return to base until every body is covered.”
Caelan was beside herself. Alone, and with the dark enclosing the final rays of the sun, Caelan felt a sickening and horrible weight upon her shoulders as she looked at the masses. There had to have been over forty people dead. Her eyes meeting the lifeless orbs of the girl she had unintentionally condemned, Caelan started to sob and throw up.
“We’re here.” The chief’s words broke Caelan from her descent, eyes blinking as she took in a deep breath and followed the Lucian troop into the command center of the base.
Caelan nor the chief said a word to each other while the chief dug through the archives on a large screen that was built into an oversize table. Caelan glanced around, getting a feel for the layout of the room while her brain attempted to cease the memories that had decided now was a good time to awaken. The contempt she held towards the Lucian troops at this stronghold was continuously growing. Every ounce of willpower she had left went towards keeping her emotions in check. It was one of the hardest things Caelan had to do in a long time. She knew what was at stake though if she were to burst from rage.
“Found him,” The chief said not long after. “Looks like he’s in the lower level. I can have some troops fetch Kurt and provide you with an interrogation room. You’ll be granted privacy to carry on whatever orders Amshel requested.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Caelan said sincerely, trying to use flattery to cover the disgust she felt.
Twenty minutes later, Caelan was in a small interrogation room with an elderly man. He had been tossed right in front of her before the guards retreated out of the vicinity. Aching breaths left his body as Caelan knitted her brows, feeling pity towards the sorry condition he was in. If this was Kurt, he looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. His hair was matted and his long beard tied in knots. Purple blotches were scattered here and there over his body indicating he had been pushed around or even hit multiple times. The guards didn’t seem to bother making sure the upper half of his form was sheltered from the elements as goosebumps traversed over his naked skin.
Caelan looked around the room, checking for cameras or anything of the sort before she crouched down. The old man visibly jumped at her action, and Caelan was quick to gesture with a hand.
“I come in peace,” She murmured, trying to make her tone as gentle as possible. “Are you Kurt? Florens is looking for you. My name is Cael--Cahl. I’ve been looking for you.”
“W-what?” The older man coughed, clearing his throat as he forced himself to look up at Caelan. He was visibly startled, his voice pleading as he spoke up.
“Whatever it is, I know nothing. Be done with this and let me return to my cell.”
“No, no,” Caelan shook her head, minding her distance as she snapped her fingers to keep Kurt’s focus. He looked as if he was going to pass out at any second, too scared to carry on a conversation. “Is your name Kurt?”
“Yes, yes it is.” He nodded, his eyes squinted at Caelan. The rush of fear he had seconds ago seemed to calm. “You don’t look like them.”
“Pardon?” Caelan raised a brow.
“You don’t look like the typical guards here. Your eyes aren’t lifeless.” Kurt’s voice was numb, as if whatever gave him courage to rise everyday had been vanquished.
Caelan swallowed. “That’s because I’m not one. Your wife, Florens, do you remember her? She sent me to find you. She’s in Duscae, waiting for you to come home.”
The fear and uncertainty that consumed Kurt’s features, now gave way to wide eyes and awe. The beginning sparks of hope were starting to take root in his somber eyes. When Caelan spoke of Florens, it looked as if life was being breathed back into the decrepit old man.
“You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“Why would I?” Caelan shrugged. “I have no reason to fuck around like that. We don’t have much time. I have a plan to get you out. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“Not like I am being given much choice,” Kurt murmured, letting out a sigh. He was contemplative for a long time, his exhausted mind trying to decipher if there was any deception. He quickly laid out the pros and cons. Either way, he felt that his life would be forfeit at this rate. If this woman didn't get him killed, he had a feeling come next week the guards would finally lay into him. They had upped the beatings, only doing that when they were set on getting rid of refugees to make room for more. Kurt witnessed it more than once during his year at Formouth.
“Can you help me up?” Kurt murmured with hesitation.
“No problem,” Caelan remarked, taking the old man’s hand into her own as she helped hoist Kurt onto his feet. Pained sounds fell from his mouth as Caelan muttered apologies here and there.
“Can you tell me how you met my wife? Is she safe? How did she even--” Kurt swallowed, trying to get his dry throat to clear as Caelan shook her head.
“I can explain later, but we gotta go. Stay behind me.” Caelan said firmly before she opened the door to the hallway. After checking the coast was clear, she motioned for Kurt to follow.
Caelan retraced her steps from where the guards and chief had led her to the interrogation rooms. Because she had to play her role to a T, Caelan neglected to take in some of the key areas. At the very least, she knew they were on the third level and needed to get to the second floor. From there, Caelan swore she saw an emergency exit flight of stairs. If they could take those down to the bottom, there might’ve been a way out besides heading to the entrance. As much as she wanted to take the camera out and look at the pictures she took of all corners of the facility to confirm, Caelan knew better. Time spent on such a tedious task would add more opportunity for them to get caught.
“This place is like a maze,” Kurt murmured. He was having difficulty understanding how vast the facility was. “Are you sure you know where to go, what’s the plan anyway?”
“Truth be told,” Caelan muttered back with a sigh. “I’m making it up as I go.”
“Are you insane?!” Kurt exclaimed as Caelan turned around to shush him.
“You can yell at me later,” Caelan looked up, seeing a couple of Lucian troops coming their way. “Quick, I need you to put on an act with me. I’m going to grab your arms and fling you around a bit. I promise I’ll try not to hurt you.”
“Done.” Kurt said bluntly as he glanced from the corner of his eye and saw the men approaching.
Caelan, recalling her days of helping Julian arrest Niflheim citizens, easily pinned Kurt’s arms behind his back and began shoving him about. A few profanities slipped here and there. She went so far as to slap the old man upside the head, getting a yelp out of him to the amusement of the troops that walked by. They didn’t seem to have a care in the world with what was happening as they bounded around the corner, talking amongst themselves about happenings outside of work.
“Coast clear,” Caelan said firmly, letting go of Kurt as he winced. She furrowed her brows, remorse crossing her features as she looked him over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hurt you too bad did I?”
“Nothing I’m not used to,” Kurt sighed, rubbing at his wrists where Caelan had him pinned. There was a nervousness in his steps as he walked behind Caelan again. “You’re not one of them, but you sure know how to man handle another human being.”
“Former crownsguard,” Caelan responded, walking ahead and checking down a hallway before motioning for Kurt to follow. “All part of the training sad enough.”
“How long were you with them?” Kurt curiously asked.
“I started when I was 10. Joined ranks and a unit by the time I was 14. My dad was a commander, family tradition and all that.”
“So young, so damn young.” Kurt shook his head in disbelief. “In my country, kids weren’t allowed to go fight in their parents wars.”
“In Niflheim?” Caelan was taken back from the information as Kurt grunted.
“When you turn 18 within the empire, you have to dedicate a year to a service to help your country. Military is one path, but if you were academically inclined, there were other options. It was like that ever since I was a boy. After magitek troops became a thing, well, we had less children to bury during the war compared to Lucis.”
“Man,” Caelan shook her head as she mentally digested the information. “Over here its quite common to start training for crownsguard when you hit 14, if your family volunteers you for it. Then when you become fully initiated, you’re assigned to another part of the Lucian kingdom or you stay within Insomnia. You don’t know until graduation where you end up.”
“Quite archaic,” Kurt sighed sadly.
“Speak for yourself. Having zombies do the fighting for you wasn’t a wise choice in the grand scheme of things. Pretty grotesque and inhumane, especially after word got out how they were made.” Caelan mused, shaking her head as she recalled Kurt mentioning magitek troops.
The ghoulish creatures, once men, were hollow weapons that followed higher ups within Niflheim’s ranks. Even after all these years, Caelan still shuddered at the thought of them. Their unnatural movements nearly got her killed many times during the Dark Decade. Ardyn confessing to her during a camp out that he played a hand in their creation came to mind. She gave him hell for days over it.
“If you’re so critical of us Nifs, why are you helping me?” Kurt huffed, not taking too kindly to Caelan’s counter argument.
“Besides making a promise to your wife,” Caelan began. She paused for a moment, recalling the hollowed face of the Niflheim girl she had inadvertently killed. Her pulse began to rise, until images of Ardyn slowly began to trickle in. A sense of comfort washed over Caelan as she breathed, managing to keep the darker thoughts at bay.
“A good friend of mine is from your country. If he were in your shoes, there’s no way I’d leave him to rot here.” Caelan said honestly. “The war between Lucis and Niflheim was awful, but I don’t hold it against you or anyone from your home.”
“Did you lose many people because of us?” Kurt asked, his voice somber as he too recalled everything he had lost back home before arriving to Lucis.
“Yeah, more than I can count.” Caelan admitted sadly. “It doesn’t matter though. The Dark Decade came and we all had to get along. We’re all human.”
“If only more Lucians like you thought that way,” Kurt murmured.
“Trust me, there’s more of us out there than the assholes in this hell pit. You were unlucky to get caught up in this--mess.” Caelan stated as a matter of fact.
Caelan let out a gasp, seeing another guard coming by. She quickly motioned for Kurt to put his hands behind his back, which he complied with. Grabbing onto his arms, she marched with him in tow. Kurt keeping his head low and murmuring pleads to not be hurt to further add to the deception. As the guard looked to his right at Caelan, observing what was going on, he squinted his eyes as if suspicious. Caelan merely saluted, to which the guard gave a nod and decided to be on his way.
The sigh of relief that escaped both Kurt and Caelan after the fact couldn’t have been more needed.
“Your friend from Niflheim,” Kurt continued while Caelan led him to an elevator. He got in quickly before another group of troops approached, the door closing behind them fast. “What part was he from?”
Caelan combed through the conversations she had with Ardyn regarding his time as chancellor. She had asked him lots of questions during their first month together. There was a lot of information about Niflheim he willingly gave, much to her surprise and sometimes irritation depending if Ardyn was attempting to drive her up a wall or not. It had her recalling a night Ardyn had her in hysterics.
“You’re lying!” Caelan said in between fits as Ardyn made a face, feigning he was hurt by Caelan’s accusation as he tried to contain his own bouts of laughter.
“I’m telling the truth, I had it made in Gralea!” Ardyn exaggerated. “I had a beautiful pent house where I could see the whole capital. Unfortunately, it came with a price. A VIP viewing of Verstael wiping his ass in his own home across from mine. The man loved to have his blinders open. Didn’t care if he scared off birds or children.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t become an alcoholic seeing that.” Caelan laughed, cringing at the vivid imagery Ardyn had planted in mind based on what she knew of Bethesia.
“Oh, but I did! A very expensive habit, I wouldn’t recommend it. My tastes in wine did spare me funds that would’ve gone to therapy, however. For which I'm grateful.” Ardyn’s sarcasm and the way he presented his stories of living within the high ranks of the empire had Caelan in hysterics. His own laughter not too far away from hers, catching up in between explanations and tall tales.
In the present, the memory had Caelan chuckle in the elevator, until she caught herself and relaxed for the time being.
“Gralea. He lived in the capital. He’s waiting back home with your wife for us to return. Maybe you two could talk.”
“I’d like that a lot,” Kurt nodded. A sigh of relief escaped his throat as he started to feel more at ease in Caelan’s presence. “Sounds like you hold him highly.”
“He’s not someone you can easily avoid,” Caelan joked, shaking her head with a slight huff.
Before Kurt could ask anything further, the elevator came to a halt. It began to shake from side to side. Both Caelan and Kurt braced themselves with what little they could hold onto. The inside of the elevator turned pitch black, the lights going off.
Kurt gasped. “D-do you think they know?”
“Shh,” Caelan whispered. “Don’t move, hold your ground.”
As quickly as it came, the lights on the elevator returned. With a final jolt that nearly had Caelan fall onto her knees, the elevator began to move once more. No warnings or alarms went off. There was no indication they were changing course. It seemed they were out of the woods. Caelan couldn’t help but feel something was amiss. She could feel a chill go down her arms when they reached the second floor, the elevator making a distinctive beep.
“Alright, let’s go.” Caelan motioned with her head at Kurt for him to follow as she hit a yellow button to the left for the doors to open.
Clicking sounds like a chorus of rocks being broken ignited the atmosphere causing Kurt and Caelan to cease their movements. There were at least forty gun barrels staring them down with a man or woman behind the triggers. An additional five showed up soon after, accompanied by the chief. The scornful glimmer in her eyes along with a signature smirk told Caelan one thing, and one thing only: they were caught.
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