Between Two Thieves

Largely regarded as a generated work of fiction by the Burnt Crows to fit their narrative and throw the Bureau off the trail of their actual plans, this entry documents the final days of Airtam's life. The events contained herein are wildly fantastical and point towards a vast conspiracy at the heart of the Empire. 

19th of Senectus, 161 PR
It has been months since my clandestine meeting below the streets of Armuun, and I must say it was by far some of the most peaceful moments I have had in memory. I have had time for pleasant discussions and even a few debates here and there, and been able to, for once, imagine what life could have been like had I chosen a more normal path to progress.
As I sit here in my chambers, surrounded by dusty volumes and ancient scrolls, I cannot help but feel the weight of my decisions heavy upon my shoulders. I have been tasked with a monumental mission, one that could alter the course of history for the Empire and the entire world. Sighnai has put me into play as a means to begin tearing down the Bureau, to expose the corrupt dealings and foul deeds that the Empire has been involved in for the past two decades, if not longer. As such, I have begun my journey, delving deep into the records of the University and the Palace of Glass, even venturing as far back as the reign of Daimus III, but as I sift through the countless documents, searching for damning evidence against the Bureau and Geraldine, I am overcome with trepidation. What began as a quest for justice against a corrupt institution is slowly morphing into something far more dangerous.
My heart is torn, for I still believe in the Empire and all that it stands for. Yes, I am well aware of the mistakes it has made, but I cannot help but feel a deep loyalty and admiration for the ideals that it embodies. Innovation, invention, reaching beyond our worldly means, and yet, I cannot ignore the atrocities that have been committed, nor the need for accountability and justice.
It is a delicate balance that I must navigate, one that could have dire consequences if I make the wrong move, and yet, I am resolved to see this through, to use my intellect and wit to gather the evidence needed to bring the Bureau to its knees, for if we do not act now, if we do not expose the corruption and greed that runs rampant within our own government, then we are doomed to repeat the same mistakes of the past, and that is a future that I simply cannot accept.

Purpose

This supposed series of journal entries documents the last days of Airtam's life and details what she believed to be a conspiracy that held a stranglehold upon the very core of the Empire.

Document Structure

Publication Status

As part of the leaked Morenthall publications following her death, these writings are generally easy to find.

Historical Details

Public Reaction

Largely regarded as either entirely or partially fiction, this particular entry is well received for entertainment purposes, and for the way it adds to the legend of Airtam herself, however, since the vast majority of the details could not be verified most sensible Becht citizens pay it little heed.

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Between Two Thieves

21st of Senectus, 161 PR
My head was pounding as I sat in my study, now having barely seen sunlight in days, poring over the records and documents. Sighnai's impatience is palpable and her agitation has been growing with every passing moment. Despite my deepening concerns, I kept my trepidations to myself, not wanting to anger her or jeopardize the mission, but I couldn't help feeling that something was amiss.
As I sifted through the archives, I began to intentionally skip over information that I felt was irrelevant or that painted the Empire in an unfairly negative light. My focus was solely on finding evidence that would hold the Bureau accountable for their recent actions, but Sighnai was not blind to my actions. She had been watching me closely, and her anger boiled over when she realized what I was doing. I suppose I had never figured on the darker side of Seanachaisian empathy such that I witnessed as she came at me, face red in such a way that made her scars stand out even more. For a moment I thought she might strike me or worse, but the threat that she made was unmistakable and chilling. She warned me that if I proved to be an unreliable asset, she would find other ways to get the information she needed, and that she had no qualms about using my own funeral, as the national icon I had become, as a distraction to do it. The threat to my life was a stark realization of my place in the overall pecking order here, and it sent shivers down my spine.
In that moment, I realized the depth of the conspiracy I had unwittingly become a part of. My involvement had started out as a way to seek justice against Geraldine, but now I am caught up in a web of deceit and danger. I have to tread carefully and keep my wits about me if I want to come out of this alive.

22nd of Senectus, 161 PR

Morning
Today, I was granted a day to myself by Sighnai, with the intention of clearing my head and escaping the chaos that has enveloped me, or as she put it, to “get my head right”. Seeking solace, I ventured to my favorite spot, the Yerba Mate Cafe which had for so long been a haven for me, however, what I encountered there was far from peaceful.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, two enigmatic ladies in elegant finery entered the cafe and approached my table. They introduced themselves as Lady Aisling Riamh and Lady Lillian Lykaios, and their stunning beauty was undeniable, causing all heads in the cafe to turn their way. I admit, at first I was quite taken by them, engaging in idle banter, but then they let slip that they were aware of my recent activities. I could have sworn I felt my heart stop as they casually mentioned the consequences of conspiring against the Empire, not quite accusing me of anything directly, but saying enough to let me know it was all intended to be a barbed jab at my situation. I attempted to deny their accusations, but my voice seemed to betray me, as if the truth was being drawn out of me against my will and I nearly bubbled over some rather delicate details before I managed to clamp my hands over my mouth, wide eyed. The women laughed at me and I could see now the malice and contempt on their faces.
Overwhelmed with panic, I stood up and ran out of the cafe, only to find myself being pursued by agents of the Bureau. I could see them in my periphery, moving quickly through the alleyways and side streets, attempting to get ahead of me and cut me off. Not being nearly as well versed in this part of the city as I would have liked at that moment, my fear only intensified as I found myself trapped at a dead end. With tears streaming down my face, I drew my pistol, fully expecting the worst and aimed it back the way I had come. Imagine my surprise when, out of nowhere, a hand reached out and pulled me into a small tunnel hidden obscured among the debris and refuse piled up along the walls of the buildings around me. I was blinded by the darkness, but safe for the moment as I listened to the agents searching for me, cursing that I had vanished without a trace.
I was nearly lifted off my feet as I was pulled deeper into the tunnel. I tried to speak, but was hushed by my mysterious savior in a tone that left no room for argument. Eventually, the tunnel opened up into an ancient catacomb where I took a moment to gather my wits. It was then that I turned to thank my rescuer, only to be stunned into silence. Before me stood a woman of unearthly beauty, with alabaster skin and luminescent green eyes that seemed to stare right through me without blinking. When she spoke, her voice echoed hollowly throughout the catacombs, as if coming from some far-off realm, and she explained that she had hoped to meet me under more favorable circumstances, but that events had escalated beyond her control. The Sovereign of Ravens, whoever that is, it seems, has ordered my safe recovery from the Epoch, yet another name with no context. What have I stepped into the middle of? I am completely bewildered. I have no idea who any of these people are, and I am lost in this maze of tunnels. The woman who has taken me under her wing introduced herself as Phaedra Cadence, from the Order of the Black Flame. She assured me that as long as I remain by her side, I will be safe. I was still confused and disoriented, but I had little choice but to nod mutely and follow her through the seemingly endless tunnels.
Phaedra's eyes seem to glow eerily in the darkness, and I never could make out for sure if it was just how they caught what little ambient illumination there was down there, or if that glow emanated from within her. Eventually, I saw lights ahead. As we drew closer, I noticed that the walls were adorned with colorful murals, intricate patterns, and powerful images that struck resonant chords of nostalgia in me though they depicted places that I have never seen before. The sensation puzzled me a great deal.
The path seemed to go on forever, and I was exhausted by the time we reached a large vaulted room filled with cots, shelves, and tables. It was bustling with activity, and I saw cloaked men and women with scar-lined faces everywhere, Seanachaisians, and I realized that I had to be in the Bone Cask, the Burnt Crow underground nerve center, and likely the first and only Becht citizen to see it without being immediately killed for the transgression. No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than Sighnai strode through the crowd, looking angry and glaring at myself and Phaedra. She began shouting at Phaedra about the danger of bringing a Bechtlarite, such as myself, here, raging on about the sanctity of her home and the security of her people while I did all I could to disappear in the shadows of Phaedra’s cloak, hoping I would be forgotten. Phaedra listened silently, without any noticeable reaction, except for a slight upturn of the corner of her pale lips. It seems as if she was amused by the whole thing. When Sighnai finally finished her tirade, Phaedra leaned down and whispered to her quietly that, the Sovereign of Ravens is on his way, and it would not have been prudent to allow his prized Headmaster, me apparently, to fall into the hands of the Epoch just as he was about to gather me up. Shockingly, Sighnai seemed nervous and shaken by the news, and she quickly changed her tune, saying that the Epoch wouldn’t have had the chance if I had just stayed where I was supposed to be. She stormed away angrily, leaving me feeling nervous and unsettled.
I turned to Phaedra and asked who the Sovereign of Ravens is, and in response, she turned those strange, luminous eyes on me and smiled slowly, telling me that it is Erebus Kane, my patron and savior, that he too, was once a Headmaster himself and is very eager to make my acquaintance. I was shocked because I recognized the name, though my recollection of it vague. I remembered something about him having an attachment to the old college at Beacon, but I had thought he and the entire island was lost when the Void was called down, well over a century ago. Phaedra chuckled wryly and shook her head, telling me that it is a vicious rumor, and Erebus is thriving. She says he intends to have me headmaster a new school at Beacon in fact, an institution where I will be valued for who I am.
My mind races through every possibility, trying to understand how this can be true. I remember the horrible rumors and crimes that were attributed to Erebus Kane, and I feel my blood run cold. Murders, and tales of dealings with dark powers and even darker magic, and in my mind, all of the strange events of the day spun up in a maelstrom of confusion and fear. I was overwhelmed and lost my footing. I reached out and Phaedra caught my arm, and then suddenly, everything went black. I must have fainted.

22nd of Senectus, 161 PR

Evening
I woke up in a room deep within the tunnels below the streets of Armuun, and it took me a moment to realize where I was. As I regained my senses, the events of the last few days came rushing back to me in a blur, and I sat bolt upright in the bed, realizing suddenly that I was not alone. Standing in the room with me were Phaedra Cadence and a tall elderly man that seemed vaguely familiar. He leaned into the light slowly, looking up at me with his single, pale green eye, and a smile crept over his face in an achingly slow manner.
Both he and Phaedra seemed off slightly in some uncanny way, but I couldn't quite place it. The man introduced himself as Erebus Kane, and I paled at the mention. Either this man was lying, or I was having a conversation with a long-dead scholar and supposed murderer. I swallowed hard and pretended to be more brave than I felt. He went on to apologize for the hardships and lost time that had come and gone in my life and explained that, while he could not directly intervene in most worldly matters, he had done his part to watch over me from afar when he could. Sadly, the sisters of the Sanguine Epoch had pushed mightily to sabotage his efforts at every turn.
Phaedra helped me to my feet and offered me a cool cloth to dab my face with, still staring with those unnervingly bright green eyes, and as I wiped the sweat from my brow, I realized with a shock what had seemed so off about the two - neither of them were breathing. Once again, the chill crept along my spine as I shakily thanked Phaedra and handed back the cloth.
I cleared my throat, straightened my petticoat, and looked directly at Erebus, which admittedly was more of a struggle than I thought, and asked him, 
"What is it you wish of me, sir? Forgive my abruptness, but I am old, and no longer find games of subterfuge and politics enjoyable."
Erebus paused for a stretched-out moment that felt like an eternity and gasped a long grinding peal of laughter that I couldn't help but tremble at the sound of. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the laughter stopped, and that single, dull green eye resumed boring into me with its cold, unrelenting weight. He explained quietly that I had more potential and aptitude than he had seen spring from the loins of the Empire since before the Blight fell and that he would like to formally invite me to throw off the shackles of mortal frailty and to join him and Phaedra on their island to explore, research, and create, unfettered and without the restraints and limitations that even now caused my bones to ache and my mind to slip. To delve into a world without pain, without fear, and without age and death alike. An eternally quiet place to pursue innumerable innovations and discoveries, and to be forever surrounded by like minds seeking the same. An intellectual paradise. All I needed to do was say yes.
Seething with fear and anxiety, I struggled to push my feelings down, but at the same time, I couldn't deny I was curious. Despite the fearful nature of the thing before me, if what he said was true, it would indeed be a paradise. I asked if I might take some time to consider his offer, to which he replied, "Of course. Just don't take too long." I told him I wouldn't be, and Phaedra stepped forward and took me gently by the arm, beginning to lead me away. I did not resist and we navigated the dark tunnels for what seemed like hours before Phaedra opened a small hatch that led to the road, no more than a mere stone's throw from my front door. I turned to thank her, and Phaedra offered that chilling, crooked smile that never seemed to reach her eyes, and told me,

"Make no mention of your meeting with the Sovereign, nor what was discussed, yes?" There was a hint of menace in her deadpan tone, and I nodded quickly and turned to leave, returning to my home and pouring a large drink in my sitting room, where I admit, I cried out of desperation, suddenly feeling trapped in a situation I have no idea how to escape. My very spirit and destiny are trapped between two powers I can barely comprehend, and I have nowhere to turn for help.

23rd of Senectus, 161 PR

I was violently jarred awake as I was grabbed and had a black bag thrust over my head, and was dragged unceremoniously from my home. I must have fallen asleep at some point and not realized it. Time is a blur from this point as whomever was carrying me was as far from gentle as possible, and I struck several items along the way with my head leading to me being quite dazed by the time I arrived at my abductor’s destination.

I was thrown into a carpeted room on my side and left there, bound and masked and still trying to get the ringing in my ears from the impacts to stop. When I finally did get my bearings and manage to sit up, it was only moments before the bag was torn from my head. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the soft light, but I quickly realized I was in the office of the Nonpareil in the Ocularium, and seated before her were the two women from the Yerba Mate Cafe, Lady Aisling Riamh and Lady Lillian Lykaios with none other than Geraldine Fulton standing behind them, grinning at me wickedly. For just a moment, I regretted antagonizing her at my award ceremony, but my general dislike for the woman quickly overshadowed any regrets I had.

The three began to question me, and this time without any veiled threats of pretenses. All three women leaned in hungrily as they spoke, and I could see the barely concealed and elongated fangs that slid along the backs of their lips as they purred their demands for information from me. They asked about the Crows and where they were located, and they asked about Erebus Kane and what his plans were. I did my best to struggle against my bindings in a way I hoped they could not see, and despite the sense that my bladder might fail me at any moment, I did not respond, nor make eye contact with them. This only served to anger them apparently, and before long, one of the Ladies, Aisling I believe moved faster than my eyes could follow and struck me firmly across the cheek. My head rang again as I flew several meters before connecting with one of the stone walls on the other side of the office. Before my body fully came to rest, they were upon me, fangs bared as they pulled me in several directions at once. My body felt as though it might tear apart, like I was being drawn and quartered, and I screamed in pain which only served to fuel their malice. I could feel their teeth sink into me as one by one they began to feast upon me, supping upon my life's blood with wet, slurping sounds that made my stomach churn in disgust. My entire body lit up with pain and once again I cried out.

Damn them for building this structure to be sound proofed!

In the midst of my pain, I remembered my dagger, concealed beneath my petticoat and through all the anguish my mind suddenly snapped shut like a vice, and I was focused somehow. Slowly, I moved my hand and grasped the pommel, my quickly weakening fingers struggling to find purchase, but I willed myself to push harder and my hand obeyed, my frail fingers working around the familiar leather grip sluggishly. With the last of my strength, I pulled the blade free and swung the point in a downward arc as hard as my failing arms would allow, and I connected and was graced with a scream of shock. Through heavily lidded eyes I peered down and saw Geraldine rearing back like a horse from a snake, my dagger hanging half embedded in the side of her head. I smiled at her as the remaining two ladies, now enraged, set upon me.

I felt the first few strikes and heard bones crack as they landed, but over the sounds of the destruction of my body came another sound, shattering glass, an explosion, and deafening blasts of gunfire. I heard unholy screeches and furniture being thrown about as I was lifted up from the floor, my broken arm hanging limp and was carried off. I must have passed out then. When I awoke, I was on my terrace, lain upon a small pile of cloth and clothing that must have been taken from within. My wounds had been bound and cleaned, and I could feel the light headed succor of some type of drug running through me to ease the pain. There was a small candle by me and flowers in my hair. I am writing this now in case my injuries are more severe than I realize, though I amaze myself that I have survived this long. This unbelievable truth must be known. I can barely keep my eyes open. I must rest.

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Type

Leaked Original

Medium

Vellum / Skin

Authoring Date

19th through the 23rd of Senectus, 161 PR

Location

Armuun

Authors

• Airtam Morenthall