Runeblade

Kaius had always assumed the emblem on his palm was tied to the house of Unterstern. How could it not have been? It was the physical representation of his bond with his blade — itself a physical totem of his heritage.

But for it to be heraldry was beyond his expectations. He clenched his teeth, watching cautiously as Kanmost turned his palm this way and that, inspecting the black lines under the soft wardlight.

“So it is…recognisable?” Kaius whispered. He already made an effort to avoid showing the sigil off, but he’d need to take stronger measures. It seemed he’d be wearing gloves a lot more often now.

If Kanmost instantly recognised the sign, what were the chances that his Dynasty’s enemies would miss it? The actors behind the fall of Unterstern were powerful and resourceful — any one who could destroy them had to be. With access to a full Legacy, Kaius refused to believe that his family had been anything other than a premier power.

He wouldn’t even need to run into them directly. If some scholar or noble started talking about Kaius, the powerful delver in the same sentence as Risen houses, it wouldn’t be hard for anyone paying attention to put the two together.

Kanmost paused, looking up at him. The Archivist must have noticed some of the worry in his face, because the man patted him on the hand reassuringly.

“To most? No, but you might want to wear gloves around any scholars of ancient history, or enthusiasts of the Empire. But even amongst them, knowledge of risen houses is a rare thing,” Kanmost said, before he looked back down at the sigil in Kaius’s palm with a gleam in his eye. “Which House do you hail from? Zras? Temmerian?”

Kaius’s heart sped up, uncomfortable with being put on the spot. How much did he share? ‘Nothing’ felt the most wise, but he had to tell the man something if he wanted any chance of finding a lead that could lead him to the holdings of his House, or the names of the other families that may have been involved in its fall.

Bloody scholars — they were too invested in mysteries for their own good.

Ianmus noticed his sudden panic and leaned forward to pull the Archivist back slightly.

“Perhaps you might start with what the lost heraldries even are?” Ianmus suggested gently. “Kaius’s house has plenty of enemies.”

“Right, of course,” Kanmost said, shifting back to take a seat on the sofa once more as he gave Kaius an apologetic smile. “Do not worry about me, I have been keeping ancient secrets for a long time — though perhaps I can understand your reticence considering our current location.”

Kaius chuckled as the Archivist swept his hand around the marquee that he’d been held captive in for over a month. Despite that, Kaius knew that his knowledge over the Wellspring had been stolen due to subterfuge and plots, rather than the Archivist’s own loose tongue.

“The lost heraldries…” Kanmost started. “Well, among my peers at Aanthrast and the small network of scholars we maintain, it is known that there were likely twelve Houses at the height of the Empire’s hierarchy. Two are known in name and heraldry: Dynia and Herzog, and Dynia may even still be extant — but it is impossible to confirm when no self respecting elf will share the secrets of their people. Of the rest, it’s complicated. Dynia, Herzog, and an unknown House with phoenix heraldry seem to have seceded from the empire immediately following the shattering, though the latter was swallowed in the chaos. Three more joined dozens of lesser houses in some sort of succession crisis, their heraldries scattered across centuries of increasingly smaller battlefields, all lacking many of the advanced magics and artifice the Empire was known for. The other six just…vanished, either right before, or right after the shattering. Those are the lost heraldries, and that is one of them.”

Kanmost jutted his finger at the emblem on Kaius’s palm.

Kaius nodded, half lost in thought. The Archivist’s explanation did match up with what they had learned from the Castellan — and even added to that knowledge. It seemed four other houses had joined his own, fleeing Vastivaar. Hopefully Kanmost would be able to give him some sketches of the other heraldries.

“What about the house names?” Kaius asked. The man had mentioned two already — Zras and Temmerian.

“We know a few, or at least have a few guesses — but barely any records have survived from the time of the Empire. Heraldries survive from art and architecture, but names far less frequently. Almost nothing remains of the four Houses that fought for the crown, and the unknown phoenix House — they were very thorough in wiping each other out. We have the name of four of the lost heraldries according to signatures at the base of a single dwarven record fragment — a second fragment had all six heraldries attached as creditors for a work order dating just before the Empire’s fall, which suggests wherever they went, they did so together —”

“Their names?” Kaius asked, cutting the man off. Fascinating as it was, he already knew where they went — another continent. An exodus of that scale would have required a mindboggling amount of infrastructure and supplies. He just needed to know who.

Kanmost took a moment to gather himself after the interruption.

“Of course,” the man finally said. “Zras, Temmerian, Cabsburg, and Domini.”

Every name fell on Kaius like a titan’s blow — a hammer that drove nails of long tempered hatred deep into his soul. Which one was his enemy? Or was it all of them, and the still unnamed house that had joined his own in flight? He gripped the scales that covered his thigh. The metal groaned in protest, cutting into the sigil of his house.

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Kanmost’s eyes followed the thin trickle of blood that rolled from his clenched fist.

“That…is not the response I was expecting, I must admit.”

Kaius couldn’t respond, his thoughts overflowing with the hidden knives who had stolen everything from him.

“His Dynasty isn’t one you named,” Porkchop said, stepping in as he unpicked Kaius’s balled fist with a single, gentle claw. “But the ones who slaughtered them likely were.”

“Ah,” Kanmost said sadly, giving Kaius a small smile of sympathy. “I shan't ask for your name then, as much as it burns me not to. Do you remember any details? There are a dozen things that an untrained mind might miss, but could help to tie a name to an emblem.”

Kaius gave a clipped shake of his head. “I wish — my father told me almost nothing. Most of what I have gathered has been alone. The lost heraldries, as you call them, fled Vaastivar immediately following the death of the Eternal Emperor. One, or multiple, of them wiped out my Dynasty when I was a baby, and crippled my father. Then, despite Father returning here to raise me in the middle of nowhere, they sent agents to track us down — Onyx ones.”

Kanmost winced. “Then I must apologise, for you have given me a wealth of lost knowledge, and in return I can tell you little more than a handful of names and emblems.”

“It is far more than we had before,” Ianmus said, patting Kanmost on the back.

That much was true — names meant something. One day, he would grow strong enough to leave the shores of Vaastivar for himself, and when that happened, names would give him a place to start his search.

“What about the heraldries?” Kenva asked. “Even if we can’t immediately connect them to anything, it will still be handy to know them if we see them in any imperial ruins.”

“There is Kaius’s own, of course,” Kanmost said, nodding towards him. “Then there is a man holding a set of scales and a scepter; a pair of coiled desert kraits striking at each other; a mountain, split in twain; a burning oak struck by lightning, and a lion heading a pack of wolves.”

Kaius managed to crack a smile despite his dark mood. The Rises Houses of the Eternal Empire certainly seemed fond of domineering symbology — but perhaps that was not too strange for those who held a duke’s authority.

“I apologise for not being of more helpl — especially after you have gone through all this trouble to rescue me from this madness,” Kanmost said, waving his hand to the bloodstrewn camp visible through the hole in the canvas wall that Kaius had cut earlier.

“You’ve been plenty helpful,” Kaius said, shaking his head. “I didn’t expect much, anyway. No chance you know where my family's holdings were based on the crest?”

Kanmost laughed. “I would be a rich man if I did — but perhaps I can help narrow things down. One of the difficulties with researching the lost heraldries is that their ducal seats seem to have all been on the southern half of the continent.”

“Beyond the Drozags,” Kenva said lamely.

Kanmost pursed his lips and gave them a slow, knowing nod.

Wasn’t that just fantastic. Kaius bit back a sigh.That might have lined up with the few traces they’d already found in the library, but it was definitely not what he had wanted to hear. That still left half a continent for them to comb through — one that was a terrifying mess of unclaimed wilds, monstrously powerful beasts, and nigh impassable jungles.

“I guess I’ll just have to hope that Brokenlight has something more for us,” Kaius grunted.

“Excuse me?” Kanmost asked.

“The man who killed my father,” Kaius explained. “It was an Onyx tracker by the name of Morton, working under an Onyx Talon by the name of Wilting Rose. While I wont pass up the opportunity to put any Onyx thug in the ground where they belong, someone has to know more of the movements of Wilting Rose.”

Kanmost leaned in, elbows resting on his knees as he gave Kaius a wide grin. Schadenfraude oozed from the man — a smug glee that made Kaius think of the delight he’d felt as he’d cleaved through Old Yon and his men like so much wheat.

“What beautiful serendipity. I might actually be able to help with that, though less than I would like to.”

All of them stared at the Archivist in shock.

“How?” Ianmus asked, flabbergasted.

“I am a scholar, Ianmus!” the man replied. “One of the rare few who reached Silver at that, thanks to the results of my research into the Wellspring. Brokenlight was going to have me killed as soon as my usefulness ended — that meant he grew sloppy. He received correspondence via messenger bird every two weeks, and I can read and memorise the impressions a quill makes on the reverse of a page at a glance. It only took me a week to crack his primitive cypher.”

“And?!” Kaius asked This is exactly what he needed: a way forward. He could already smell the blood in the air — though that could have been the corpses outside.

“Most of it was him trying to find and organise buyers for the location and method of access for the Wellspring — but there was one letter from two weeks ago. A Talon, signed W.R., was all but demanding his presence in the holy city of Anaerith during the summer solstice pilgrimage in a year and a half’s time.”

“They what?!” Kenva hissed, stuffing flying free as her fingers punched through the leather of her arm rests.

Kaius’s mouth went dry, hoping he was wrong about what the Onyx planned. There was only one obvious thing of value that would be accessible in a Hiwiann city during a solstice pilgrimage.

“Can someone please explain?”

“Anaerith is one of two temple-cities in the Altier Steppe,” Ianmus whispered as Kenva took a slow calming breath.

“And the pilgrimages are when my people swear their oaths and are baptised,” Kenva added with a hiss.

Kanmost nodded grimly. “The Onyx are likely trying to make a play for one of the Bloodstones.”

“Ah hells.”

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