2404 Strilaxis 8, Jyda

He sat in Lydin's lecture for the fifth time in a row over the week, growing more and more bored out of his mind. The history lectures contained more information about the other fairy races and how they contributed to the Human-Fairy war. It should have been interesting to Kennen but all he felt was blatant apathy to the subject. If there was anything he'd like to know from his tutor and ultimately a member of the Chieftain's court was where in Umazure was Merko.

Lydin drawled on, completely oblivious of the fact she had lost Kennen half an hour ago. Kennen settled within himself, pondering on the things swirling at the edge of his mind. A few weeks ago, he had sent off his friend personally as his batch was preparing to go out. He checked with Merko's supervisor, the fairy in charge of keeping the team of foragers together and bringing them back safe, and she seemed good enough. She was no Arren but she was a forager for a hundred years. She knew what she was doing.

So why wasn't Merko back until today? It has been too long.

"Now, do you have any questions?" Lydin turned away from her ice board to look at her only student.

Kennen raised a hand even though there wasn't anyone competing with him for the tutor's attention. "Has the recent batch of foragers made it back? Did the eastern stocks receive their shipment?"

A cloud passed across Lydin's face. Did she know Merko was on that team? Instead, she shook her head, crossed her arms, and sighed. "I suggest taking it up to General Lega since she controls the training of the foraging division."

He slotted the name to his memory. General Lega. Then, he knitted his eyebrows. "Isn't that—"

"One of the siblings in the Grand Marshal's court, yes," Lydin finished for him like she was tired of answering this question over and over that she knew where it would go just by listening to the first two words. "I would appreciate you asking a better question than all the others before you, Kennen."

He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. General Lega. Lydin did mention the one he was looking for was female, clearing up the possible confusion between the two Generals. It seemed like the gods had mercy on them so they decided to make the siblings of different sexes. To think they both rose to become Generals at the same time was something Kennen wasn't up to ponder about. He couldn't even make it to be a forager. But it must have been amazing to be their parents and their ancestors.

Still, as he bid farewell to his tutor, he had the nerve to ask, "Where would I find the Generals' quarters?"

A wicked smile crossed Lydin's face. "If you listened to anything I told you about the structure of the Ice Capital, you wouldn't be asking that question," she jerked her chin at the busy corridor outside their lecture room. "Now, off you go. Do whatever it is you need to do."

Before Kennen could open his mouth to speak, the wall slammed shut in his face, cutting his thoughts effectively. With a sigh, he tore off the corridor and began walking without any destination in mind. He should be getting lunch right now but seeing as he didn't feel like chugging fairy potion with his breakfast still churning in his gut, maybe he should forego lunch.

He should find General Lega before he goes to his afternoon lecture. Master Hornori wasn't known to wait for his students and Kennen liked minerology too much to skip it. Just yesterday, he was able to touch a compact quortene ore and felt the vibrations growling in its core. According to Master Hornori, quortene was used by the fairies aboveground to slot into their machines as its vibrations provided a source of power.

That's where the Ice Capital gets most of its profit from. Master Hornori claimed most of the minerals and gemstones they were able to mine here were sold at a high price in response to a high demand outside. Kennen could vaguely remember his tutor laughing to himself while muttering, "If only they knew what treasures really were buried in there."

Was he talking about the Hall of Symbols? Maybe. Maybe not.

The next thing he knew, the hundred and fifty fourth floor was upon him. This was where the random ice sprite he caught back in the forty-sixth floor pointed him to when he asked about the Generals' quarters. It was lunchtime so maybe the generals liked to relax in their rooms before doing whatever it was generals do for the afternoon?

The whole floor was quite—a trait he had gotten used to the deeper he went into the Ice Capital's floors. Even the mining floors Master Hornori brings Kennen to in order to experience rock collection hands-on were as quiet, with only the sound of pickaxes and crumbling rocks being heard echoing in the darkness. Now, silence was so thick Kennen swore he could see it condense into a cloud. Not even a stringent ring of metal hitting the soil could be heard.

His footsteps scratched and echoed against the walls, the glowing ice feeling like eyes following his every movement as he tore through the corridor. There wasn't anyone with him on this floor save for a few ice sprites carrying rods. He watched them tap away at the walls with their canes' tips wrapped in cloth, looking for any weaknesses in the walls, the floor, and occasionally, the ceiling.

Maintenance, Kennen thought upon recognizing the patterns in their canes and the expert look in their eyes. He should probably hurry along.

Kennen made sure to duck his head and let his lengthening hair cover half of his face. He looked similar to about five people in the whole capital, as per Master Ravem's arithmetic and logic, so he could have blamed it on one of them when people asked what he was doing on a floor he clearly didn't belong to.

He reached a spot on the wall which seemed darker than the endless sheet of blue stretching across the hallway. Unlike the designs of some floors where corridors were flanked by both rooms and railings to give way to a view of the floors, this present hallway was locked by two walls lined with rooms like how the two hundred and second floor was.

His fingers reached out of the spot and were able to splay against it when someone cleared their throat behind him. Kennen jumped, his heart leaping to his throat. His hand clutched his other hand to his chest, as if he was afraid he might have lost it along the way.

His gaze landed on a woman dressed in pale blue armor made of hammered metal. A spiked helmet was tucked underneath her arms and a sheathed sword flashed by the belt slung around her hips. She looked like the knights he grew up reading from the midnight tales for children.

"What are you doing in front of my room?" the woman asked, leaning left and right to see what's going on behind Kennen. He swallowed the bitter taste of fear and bile at the back of his throat. "Is there something wrong?"

Kennen coughed into his fist, buying what meager time he could for himself. "I was hoping you could tell me where General Lega is?" he said. "I'd like to have a word with her."

The woman raised her perfectly-plucked eyebrows, her freckled face curling in amusement. "Why was the Crown Prince looking for me?" she said, tapping a hand to her breastplate. The metal gloves she wore clanged against it. "I'm General Lega. Unless you're looking for my brother?"

"No, no," Kennen waved his palms forward. What stroke of luck did he get from the heavens at this point in time? "I'm hoping to speak to you about the foraging division."

The General frowned. "What about it?" she asked, her tone becoming guarded. The helmet underneath her arm creaked as if she was tightening her muscles around it. "I was just about to make a report to the Grand Marshal."

Kennen took a deep breath. "The batch that was recently sent, the one that included Merko Dhara," his friend's name sounded weird across his tongue. When was the last time he had said that aloud? "What happened to them? Have they succeeded in depositing something to the eastern stocks? Why aren't they back until now? It's been too long."

The General shrugged, her armor crinkling along with the motion. "The process could take a long time," she reached out and patted Kennen in the shoulder. Her touch was a new version of cold seeping through his robes. "Be patient. I'm sure they'd turn up soon."

Then, the General jerked her chin towards the door to her room. Kennen got the message and stepped aside. Before she went inside, she turned back to Kennen one last time. "A message from the Grand Marshal too," she said. "She tells you to focus on your lectures and helping the Chieftain handle matters in the court. She told me this morning."

Kennen nodded, a bit bummed his mother couldn't have told him that herself. "Thank you, General," he said.

General Lega chuckled. "No worries, little Chief," she winked at him before the dark blue wall slid shut, the force enough to stir a faint breeze, driving Kennen's hair bouncing against his forehead. Just her calling him a little Chief brought about a dozen questions in his head.

Well, that conversation didn't tell him anything. Kennen knew the foragers' schedules when he first heard Merko was becoming one. The most it took these batches were a few days at best. Merko was gone for almost three weeks. That wasn't normal, unless they've scored a huge bounty all of a sudden.

The ice sprite rule when stepping outside was to get out fast and get in faster. They couldn't afford to waste time with the bounty if they could make do with a smaller amount of foraged materials. The next batch could take it up from there if they weren't able to, so long as they were able to spread the word around. That's why there were several teams in the division.

Someone being gone for too long didn't sit well with Kennen. Merko was his friend, even though the last time they saw each other they had exchanged small nods. He couldn't bring himself to speak with Merko after his pathetic outburst.

Still, something might have gone wrong and Kennen has no way of learning unless someone told him. He didn't even know how he could help. The General wasn't talking. His mother surely wouldn't. The Chieftain wouldn't know anything about it unless it was really serious and would concern the rest of the population. So...who else could tell him?

No one.

And that absolutely sucked.

As he fumed away from the General's quarters, a sudden thought struck his mind. No one would be able to tell him because they had a choice. He has to find someone who wouldn't have any reason to refuse, someone who has the knowledge he was looking for. An ice sprite hefting a stack of tomes passed by him. The sight of the crinkly pile of parchment cemented something in Kennen's mind.

The records.

Lydin would be proud of him as he let a conspiratorial smile creep out of his lips. Others would find that weird but Kennen didn't have the energy to mind. It upset him how he wasn't able to think about it earlier and wasted considerable time meandering about and asking people he thought could help him.

He rubbed his hands together. The meandering did its job, though. It allowed him to spend every considerable hour of his day wandering around. Just a few hours from now and the lights would shut off, signaling the time for bed.

Not for Kennen. There's only one place that would be able to tell him what happened to his friend.

It's the Grand Marshal's archive.