Somewhere Someplace

A couple days had passed—barely even a few, yet it still felt as if a forever wait. Because the undersecretary had more or less coopted her in the moment, there was no preplanning; she had to make the arrangements—talk to the necessary persons and get the appropriate permissions.

Although the presence of a Protector of Smiles was more than sufficient to keep Novea here, the undersecretary did not want to take any chances with her despite her reassurances. Thankfully, Novea had managed to convince her not to confine her to the Grandberry Guild hall itself; she was allowed to select any of the closest inns to stay at instead—under the condition, of course, that a Security Office detachment be allowed to monitor her, though the undersecretary did not phrase it as such.

A cozier form of arrest, indeed, yet the comfier bed did nothing to help her sleep. Novea could not sleep; there was just too much preoccupying her mind…

In just these couple of days, diplomacy between the United Central Trade Company and Grandberry had rapidly deteriorated; from her understanding, the Company had issued a 'formal condemnation' over the Humbleberry incident, and in a matter of a day had emptied its old headquarters of everyone besides its embassy staff and a few remaining military persons—including Nilia.

Indeed… Nilia was stranded there as much as she herself was stranded here; it was almost poetic, really… Novea, frankly, was perhaps relieved by this outcome, since that meant she would not have to worry about being trapped in Grandberry whilst Nilia was deployed to the Company's campaign; this sentiment was echoed by the Bureau's one handler assigned to them here, who naturally had seemed far more interested in that enigma—indifferent to the Raven's own detainment.

Regardless, following their so-called 'subpoena interrogations', Novea, being allowed to 'finish up her businesses', had finally given Red and Blue their long overdue briefing on…what exactly they had been dragged into—the campaign against the Fallen—, in addition to her own newfound predicament. Red had reacted as expected, although Novea was unable to fault him that time.

After they had later rendezvoused with Hathway in Outer Grandberry, he informed them of Nilia's own predicament, that their plan had 'not gone as intended', and that he and his troop needed to relocate to the Company's primary forward camp—to which Red surprisingly offered to accompany.

Novea initially rejected that, naturally, but Red had argued that he and Blue were actual adventurers, and that he—Dragon Slayer—was quite knowledgeable; they could provide genuine assistance to the Company's campaign on behalf of the Guild and, of course, the Bureau. Novea, thus, ultimately allowed it, because… Well, Red was kind of right; there was no point in having those two remain stuck here with her, even though she did not want to split up her 'team'… And, no doubt, Red had probably been craving some action after weeks of boredom.

Suffice it to say, she was on her own again.

It was the early morning; the sky, still dimly; the air, just a little misty. Novea sighed, tired yet somehow energetic—perhaps anxious, perhaps excited… It was difficult to tell; sometimes those feelings blurred. As soon as she had stepped out of that inn this early day, she was promptly handed the undersecretary's note.

And, indeed, as she arrived before the steps of the Guildhall, seeing the guardsmen actually present and stationed outside as if waiting, it became further clear…

Things were finally arranged.

-||-

Dark, bleak, squeezing, and suffocating… The Grandberriens called this place a lowly 'jail', yet it was very much a dungeon—one that was more underground, being located within the Low Quarter. Frankly, it was astonishing that they had even found the room to shove yet another structure beneath this city—it was probably some chamber that was originally connected to or within the sewers. In many ways, it was almost like the catacombs except without the…bones and skulls; it was narrow, but maybe not as narrow.

Dirty cells left and right, and blooded torture chambers here and there; groans, screams, and shouts echoed about though none were near. Where this Grandberrien guard was leading them was empty of anyone besides one single soul, held away from the rest. Private and obscure.

"I must caution you," the Grandberrien guard began to say, voice slightly muffled by his full sallet helmet, "nothing from her was confiscated; the elf remaineth armored and assumably armed; her weapons are magical, and we are fearful of attempting removal—she already injured several in the last attempt."

"That is why we brought these two girthy men." The undersecretary, spectacle-wearing eyes baggy and in apparent energy-bean withdrawal, casually pointed to the two Citadel guardsmen accompanying behind. "Besides, we are not going into her cell."

"My point is," the Grandberrien glanced sternly, "she is only here because she is being willful. Her motives are unknown, and she seemeth both sane and…maddened, judging from the scratches she left on her previous cell. We are deliberating what should be done with this Demon-worshipper." His sight returned to the way ahead. "For all we know, her presence is what be causing the chaos in this capital… The rumors and terrible omens—the riot."

"We only want to talk to her." the undersecretary stated.

"Yes." The Grandberrien glanced at her yet again. "And we are only allowing this because we expect you to immediately inform us if she revealeth anything."

"Yep, yep. We know the deal." the undersecretary replied.

The guard continued to lead them through this dungeon, heading deeper and lower within it. Soon enough, he opened a very crappy wooden door leading into which was an equally crappy section of dirt brick and leaking drops of dripping water—origins being who even knew where, perhaps moisture from the air. A blank wall to the left; five cells to the right; dead end directly ahead.

"She is in the farthest end. I shall await above." The Grandberrien promptly departed, leaving them be.

The undersecretary promptly turned to her guardsmen; "At the door." she simply said, and the two guardsmen remained at the door. She then began to walk, the Raven following closely. They eyed each cell as they passed, before arriving to the final one, within which they saw…

Mute and silent, sitting in the corner with her head down. Her elvish armor was light and elegant, unlike anything ordinarily seen amongst man let alone the forest elves; mythical and heroic in both cuirass and tunic-skirt. The color patterns were yellow, goldish, white, and light blue; and conveyed a sense of antiquity, civility, and high society…yet also crudeness and cultural decay, as if having fallen astray. She had a cape though it was dirty, and a helmet with a blue crest though it was off. Her hair was blonde, her eyes a soothing blue surrounding which was a faint and subtle radiant hue; her ears were long and pointy, most becoming of an elf.

"Yep… That's a Protector of Smiles…" Novea remarked, the recognition immediate.

There was a gentle twitch to the elf's ear, having heard both the breaths of arrival and the voice that had so spoken; yet she refused to acknowledge or eye. Beyond a few visible bruises, she seemed largely fine.

Novea turned to the undersecretary. "Hey, can you move out of sight? Might be better if it's just me and her…"

The undersecretary sighed; "Boring… But fine." She thus began to step aside. "Just tell me if you need her tortured! Hehah… I could sure arrange that."

With the Office secretary having stood aside though still within hearing range, Novea approached the cell's bars, leaning down and trying to keep her posture relaxed. "Hello…"

The elf seemed to be tacitly scowling; her eyes were glanced in Novea's direction even if her head refused to turn and face. This so-called 'Protector'—not to be confused with colloquially dubbed 'protectors'—obviously knew that Novea was trying to communicate, but refused to acknowledge.

Novea…needed a moment to gather her mind and ready her mouth. Ravens, being what they were, were taught the so-called 'legendary tongue'. However, she was better at understanding and reading it than…actually speaking it… Never mind that she, and Ravens generally, only knew the classical version… Indeed, so much time had passed since the Collapse, who even knew how alien the tongue had diverged.

Yet Ravens and Smiles' Defenders were very similar in what they were—vestigials who clung to mythic past… Chances were, they both knew the classical variant. But there was only one way to find out.

Novea took a gulp and a breath. "[Salutations, mighty princess…]" That was the standard greeting, right?

"…" The elf, slowly, at last turned her face; it was simply a glare before becoming a belligerent scoff, her first word uttered… "[Traitor.]"

Novea promptly sighed… "[After these many thousands of years, we are still referred as such?]"

"[You are imposters who wear the Ravenkins' skin. Manlings without warrant.]" The elf made clear in her tone…the inherited resentment. "[And your accent is shit. You know nothing.]"

"[But you know something.]" Novea merely said, not biting her bait; she had already known this was going to be the default response.

"[Hmph. I refuse to speak anything to you, deceptive crow.]" the elf so spoke, turning away; "[It is a disgraceful insult that you are whom they brought.]"

"[I am the only one who may understand you. If not I, it would be another Raven like me.]" Novea replied. "[No man will understand you.]"

The elf's breaths sizzled… "[Mankind has lost its way, illiterate monkeys…]" She scoffed, glaring at her; "Ond yes, I kan shpeake dzis dishgustyng tonguen. [Do not mistake my refusal to lower myself to speak it as a lack of understanding.]"

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"Now your accent is the shitty one." Novea plainly remarked.

"Intentionally." the elf merely replied, accent clearer.

Novea again so sighed… Yep. This was without any doubt a lingering progenitor to the New World high elves; she could see the 'family resemblance', so to speak—the arrogance and spite that contradicted actual intentions.

A short silence ensued as she recalibrated her thoughts… "How about this," she began to suggest, "[you speak in your gracious tongue,] and I'll speak in mine. I can understand yours, and you can understand mine, so it works."

The Protector's head drifted, loosening, contemplating. "[That is…sufficient; I accept.]"

Alright, good. Step forward. She had her foot in.

"Did they hurt you?" Novea inquired.

There was a slight delay… "[Yes.]" the elf admitted; "[But I allowed them; I was not attempting to hurt them.]"

"I was told you did injure a few… What happened?" Novea asked.

"[They tried to…strip me, and I could not permit men to do so—it would be dishonorable, a disgrace… But…I was not attempting to hurt them.]" the elf replied and reiterated to herself; she had used a specific word in her tongue, which although loosely translated to 'man' or 'men', it was strictly referring not to the race but rather…the sex. "[Factually.]" She sighed; "[I question why I bothered to come here; the surface is full of savages without redemption…]"

"But you believe in redeeming, don't you?" Novea remarked.

The elf's eyes fell away slightly, affected… "[…we believe in the Crown of Smiles..]" she spoke reflectively; "[We follow the oath that was sworn. We believe there is still good to be found in the Child—in the hearts of all races. No matter what you say, we are not Fallen; we are still awake—the only ones awake…]" It was almost as if she was trying to remind herself, frankly.

"[The Crown of Smiles is gone, and the Child is finally dead. The cycle is over; the eras are changing.]" Novea replied.

"[You said you would not speak my tongue!]" The elf in a flare glared at her, feeling slighted.

"[Yes… Although, this subject warrants it.]" Novea replied, trying to stay friendly and tonally deescalative; "[To talk of the Crown requires to speak in the Crown's tongue. But furthermore, I should try to improve by using.]"

The elf's eyes…again fell down and away. "[To improve, you must practice… Yes. That is the way. You are right, and I am sorry…]" She was mellowing out a little. "[I will attempt tolerance. You may speak.]"

And just like that, she had circled back and was free to speak in the mutual tongue, even if this maneuver was not exactly planned on her part. Regardless, Novea felt now was perhaps the time to start the actual…prodding. "[So, what is the cause of your being here?]"

"[Poor phrasing.]" The elf, trying to tolerate, nevertheless remained critical. Though, she went quiet for a moment, as if really thinking… "[The Fallen…]" she finally spoke, "[they twist history; they twisted…the oath to the Crown; they have twisted themselves… They have been waging war against mankind; to purify the surface and restore the Crown's Light.]"

"[Yeah. We understand that already. The League of Adventurers has been waging a hidden war against them; that is not new.]" Novea replied.

"[Listen, please. This is how I speak…]" the elf said, trying to open.

Novea promptly quieted.

The Protector took a moment. "[I hate you.]" She was straightforward; "[I hate manlings. I hate that you traitors sided with them.]"

"[We didn't side with—]" Novea, again, interposed herself…

"[Please, let me speak… This is the only way I can speak this.]" the elf again so implored. "[It is my fate to be condemned to death. I understand that. So, I…want to speak. Please, let me speak, and I will tell you…]" She was not merely speaking; she was reflecting and recalling, introspecting and coming to terms.

Novea simmered… Right, no need to become defensive… Not like she herself was even alive all those thousands of years ago, anyway. She knew the routine; she needed to give the elf her speaking space. "[Apologies. Continue. I will listen.]"

The Protector required another moment to recollect her thoughts. "[I hate you, but I do not wish death to you all; that is what I was…attempting to say. I believed that I did; I felt myself so…angry and…bitter, but no. I do not desire…that. That is what…separates us from them, we were told. We…see that there is still good in you. The Fallen…they see only evil; they experienced only the evil…]" There was a short pause… "[And because of your evil, whole…kingdoms beneath are now considering their cause.]"

"[Because of us?]" Novea softly prodded.

"[The world beneath is limited… Water is precious; space for food, scarce…]" the Protector lowly conveyed; "[But your wars, your fires, your…hatred; it has pushed more…from the surface to the world beneath. More souls, more mouths to feed; savages, twisting our hearts.. Vampires, a corruption…spreading. A madness, an emptiness, something has emerged… No, always here…]"

Novea could tell there was sudden tension emerging in the elf's voice—a cramp in the breaths.

"[Something has changed. There is a change… Even in us, a change… Something is growing, a cloud, a shroud, a scent so empty… The Fallen have changed…]" The elf paused in her words, a fear emerging yet she remained stoic. "[Revenge…hatred, easy passions. But…many of us have been captured by the allure. There remains good, but it is easy to forget, and some of us no longer think that way… Defections amongst our order…]"

"[Defenders of the Crown are deserting to the Fallen? Is that what you…speak?]" That…would be surprising. Novea was not nearly as understanding of these ancienter than ancient dynamics, but those two were contradictory…groups.

"[Yes. Their words…are so toxic; their…message, so…convincing. It was so attractive, their lies…]" The elf's mind was staggering on itself, a subtle tremble emerging in her breaths, a subtle shake to her jaw…as if words trying to be spoken had clogged.

"[You need not become so deep, pretty elf.]" Novea tried to ground her back. "[Calmly… What is it that you are trying to say?]"

The elf…calmed, yet her breaths remained clogged. "[I… I was one of these defectors… I had fallen for the attraction.]"

"…" Novea had to process that. "And you called me the traitor…" she bluntly blurted.

"[Yes… Hypocrisy. That is right…]" Yet the Protector seemingly acknowledged…

It was becoming apparent that this elf was horribly confused on the inside. That would explain the circling words and contradictory intentions—risking herself by coming here yet speaking nothing of what she wanted to say. Traitor's confusion… She was betraying the Fallen, having already betrayed the Protectors—an identity collapse, the pieces of which crushed within.

"[There is…still good…in mankind. There is still good in all the races… Mankind blames us, the Fallen blames mankind… It was everyone's fault…that the Crown fell, that the Child became…what they…became… All of us.]" the elf reiterated, perhaps more to herself. "[I knew that; I believed that… But… I still…]"

"[What made you forget? To fall for the allure?]" Novea softly inquired.

The elf's jaws jittered; most of her emotions were jammed within. Yet, with a breath, she 'relaxed' though it was false, flattening as if. "[The savage primitives of the forests,]" she began to speak, "[our sisters in kind… They disgrace our ancestors, but…they were still us. Different paths, but the same ears. A few made journey to the world beneath; they found us and made their plea… We are the Defenders of Smiles, so we…helped—I helped…]" There was tensing in her muscles, a scowl reemerging. "[And we failed. I failed.]"

"…Oh…" Novea could make many guesses of what she was referring to. Forest elves had become increasingly targeted throughout the last century, either because their forests had something valuable and they were being 'nuisances' or they themselves were in demand in the slave markets.

"[The matriarchs warned us, but we were naive—I was naive.]" The Protector's tone remained tensively flattened. "[Sticks of thunder, siphons of fire… Powerless, useless, we stopped nothing; I saw everything… Maybe that is when I fell… That is the day that lingers; those wretched screams.]" She exhaled, coming to terms yet also not. "[I speak in circles without conclusion…]"

"[It is fine, friendly.]" Novea warmly reassured. "[But please tell me, why you left the Fallen? What caused you to run hither?]"

The fallen Protector took her time, and Novea gave her the time. "[I felt…something that day, a presence.]" with tightening breaths, she began to say; "[An abyss, a void, a nothingness… Remarked always, there was something beneath, but it has grown—a shroud that eats… It is growing. Even here—it is here… Everywhere.]" Her words spiraled again. "[I am not sure if it is responsible, but it was there; the scent… Indeed, the plan—his words, he was never so insane. Something changed, and their plan…madness.]"

"[Calm now…]" Novea attempted again to so bind the elf's mind. "[Answer. That is the only way to end your circling. You mentioned a plan… What plan?]"

The Protector froze, breathing and hardening. She looked at Novea and stood up; approaching the cell, she weakly gripped the bar, eyes looking into the Raven's own. "[The Fallen have a terrible golem and a legion; they are planning to attack this city to reclaim it for the elves; they will slaughter every last manling here. There is your warning.]"

"…they are preparing to attack Grandberry??" Novea was loud enough

"Wait, what the fuck?" Indeed, the undersecretary had clearly heard.

"[Foolish plan led by the deluded, yet it might work—you are arrogant; this kingdom, distracted.]" The Protector withdrew from the bars, leaning her back against the cell wall. "[But I swore…an oath… But their plan was evil; they are evil… How did I not see it? My honor, why did I…]" She slid down with just a few tears… "[Even now, I am so naive. The Child would have never wanted…this… Children, they do not deserve to die… That is the thought. I saw a child and her innocence… How could I harm that?]"

Novea could tell that this elf had no idea what the right thing to do was anymore; every action felt equally wrong. "[You rest, Crown Protector.]" she simply said, stepping back; "[You have spoken enough, thank you. We can…speak again the next day from now.]"

"[…will there be a tomorrow for me?]" the elf wondered, exhausted by her own thoughts.

Novea…did not reply. She simply returned straight to the undersecretary, who was waiting with anticipation. "You heard my shout. That's her warning."

The undersecretary was still processing that. "…are you fucking kidding me?" She pinched her forehead. "No wonder they've been so active all over the dutchy… They are planning an attack on Grandberry? Fucking goblins? Or, I mean, it's of course fucking goblins… Smart little rapist bastards."

"The Fallen aren't led by goblins.." Novea corrected; "Elves—'dark elves', specifically… And that Protector is…actually a Fallen deserter."

"Wait, she is Fallen? What? I thought… Actually, I don't know anything about any of this. That's why you're here." the undersecretary so replied. "Anyway, we can't go by her words alone…"

"She is deeply confused…" Novea mellowly remarked; "But I have no reason to doubt her; the circle she went through to tell me that, it's no lie."

"I'll have to trust your instincts on that, then…" The undersecretary hughed… "Alrightly, an attack on Grandberry—that's still fucking insane. If what she's saying is true, they'll be slaughtered at the walls, unless they…" Her words trailed, a sudden flash entering her mind… "…find a way around the walls…" Indeed, her eyes flung back to Novea. "Raven, there is an ancient city beneath Grandberry… Know anything about it?"

"Not really…" Indeed, beyond the catacombs, Novea did not know too much about the rest of the underneath areas. "I know they're older than the city, though."

The undersecretary stroked her chin… "But the underworld, it tends to be connected, rightly? Forming tunnels and routes…"

"Yeah, usually… Besides dark-zones." Novea answered.

"Hm…" The undersecretary continued to muse. "I've been wanting to search down there for a while now, but nobody…seems to want to tell me how… Hmm…" She so eyed that particular cell at the end ahead. "Nobody actually knows how she got into this city either…"

"You think she knows something?" Novea could see…

"Her breed of elf is ancient, and the ancient elves built this city, so…" The undersecretary's eyes returned to the Raven, blunt; "Yeah. That is your next interrogation. Find out how she got into this city, and if she knows anything about the ruins below this mountain. If she does, then I'll pull some arms for a custody transfer." She smirked. "Hehe, she'll be your little pet sniffer for hunting rats."

"Of course…" Novea so muttered… "You are dragging me along…"

"Raven…" The undersecretary so looked into her; "You understand the situation we're in; once I tell my superiors, this will become a top-priority… And you should know what Guild policies are regarding—"

"Previous obligations rescinded; cross-cooperation mandatory if essential. I know." Novea exhaled; "You will need me to communicate and build rapport… I will inform my relevants."

"Glad we understand." The undersecretary smiled. "Oh, rightly. My…promises to the Grandberriens notwithstanding, the quiet rule is in effect… Until we have definitive proof, not even a tiny peep about this to anyone outside the Office or Bureau, not even the duke—especially not the duke, he's already way too paranoid as is…" Her smile faded… "We're going to need to be convincingly vague… Great…" She was not looking forward to talking with the Grandberriens.

Nevertheless, that is both birds trapped in the same cage.