The Vanguard – Chapter 1 – Revised

Hello, dear reader. Here we go again! Please enjoy the revised first chapter of The Vanguard. Though the story is basically the same as the original, I have added to the worldbuilding and atmosphere of Volgorne, as well as expanding on Eyde’s journey prior to his arrival. This is where Eyde’s journey truly begins, thrust into a bustling, grimy city where magic and industry collide. Grab a cup of tea (or something stronger, if you prefer!), settle in, and prepare to descend into the Roots. I hope you enjoy the start of this grand adventure!

Eyde contemplated the knife at his throat. His first few days in Volgorne had done little to enamour him to the great city thus far, but he was beginning to believe the place had been against him from the start.

The acrid breath of his assailant crept insidiously into his nostrils, his breathing ragged and desperate. “Stay back,” the man growled to the three people in front of them, gripping Eyde’s chest tighter with his other hand. “Wouldn’t want this one on your conscience now, would you?” Eyde could feel the knife’s edge pressed against his skin. 

A woman in a long, sleeveless coat stepped forward, “Kellin. Let him go.”

“Chin up, Eyde,” the Innkeeper set down a glass of dark brown liquid on the counter. “I’m sure they’ll let you in tomorrow.”

Eyde groaned looking up from his large, open book, “If you say so, Lin.” Taking the glass, he drank the full measure of the burning liquid, recoiling as it scoured the inside of his throat. “To think I’ve come all this way only to be denied access is somewhat frustrating.”

“Well, lad,” Lin laughed, “Some folk go their whole lives and never see the upper stages. That goes double for the people who are born in the Roots.” Lin peered over the yellowing pages. Though he couldn’t understand the tight script and complicated language, he was fascinated by the accompanying illustration. “Who’d have thought a city like this had so many beasts?”

Eyde gave a short laugh “Other than the people, you mean?” he smiled to himself. “Animals tend to adapt to whatever surroundings they find themselves in. It’s really quite interesting how they carve out homes for themselves, unnoticed by all the people around them.” He turned the book up for Lin to see. The page held a black and white drawing of a four legged animal with striped fur from its small, sharp-looking teeth, to its bushy tail. “This fellow, for example,” Eyde gestured to the creature. “Is a lantrit. Usually their habitat is woodland, but with so much food thrown away in the city, they appear to have found a home here. There have been some observations that they ‘ve also started picking up objects we casually discard or lose; change, clothing, jewellery, you name it.”

“I’ve seen them!” Lin exclaimed. “Little bastards are always spreading trash across the place.”

Eyde laughed, “They can’t help their nature, Lin. They’re just hungry and curious.”

Collecting the glass, Lin poured another measure of the brown liquid, “Aye, well, if you’ve been invited to the Institute, they’ll see sense before too long, I’m sure.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Eyde stood up from the bar and threw back the replenished drink. “I’d best get going. See you tomorrow, Lin.”

After setting a few coins onto the counter, he placed the book in his satchel, slung it over his shoulder and made his way to the door.

Lin’s tavern, the Vicolla, was situated in the Roots, lowest of Volgorne’s four stages. The streets were dark; being this deep into the stage, this deep under the mountain, oil lamps were needed even during the day. The immensity of Volgorne was something that one had to experience for themselves. 

His first view of the city had been from the window of a steam train carriage only two days earlier. The Mainline on which he had travelled kept the city’s mercantile industry thriving and allowed an easier method of transport for visitors than days of travel in the overstuffed, under-maintained carriages that rattled across the plains, or the damp, mouldy trading vessels that plied the wide, lazy River Dren. Eyde had spent almost all of his savings on the trip and that first view had been worth every silver tor. Once the conductor had announced their imminent arrival to the carriage at large, Eyde had lowered the window and thrust his upper body out into the early autumn sunshine, craning his neck around every bend as lush plains whizzed past and the train chugged inexorably forward.

He was rewarded just before noon. The Troeden mountain range which surrounded Volgorne had finally abated, and as the locomotive rounded the final corner, the great city hoved into view. As the locomotive powered alongside the farms that served to feed its populace, Eyde was struck by the city’s enormity. His home town of Stirren was inconsequential in size when compared to what lay before him. The mountain city of Volgorne. Four vast tiers, known as stages, cut into the mountainside and jutted out and over the plains before it. Even from this distance he could see the glittering towers of its highest stage, the Rostrum, where pennants and flags snapped in the wind bearing the devices of the monarchy, the noble houses, and the interlocking rings of Esthia’s gods, the Darna.

On the stage below, the Quick, a position at the Volgoran Institute of Zoology awaited him. A chance to study amongst the brightest in his field. A chance to contribute to the world’s body of knowledge. The excitement was almost overwhelming. Wind whipping through his hair, he withdrew the letter of acceptance from inside his overcoat. He grinned at the golden seal glinting in the sun and revelled in his anticipation. At that moment, a sudden shriek from the train’s steam trumpet had startled Eyde and allowed the wind’s clever fingers to grip the letter, whisking it away from him and out over the grassland. Eyde had barely clung to the edge of the window as his obscenities and cries of frustration had chased it into the sky. Back in his seat, he tried to assure himself that it would be fine. They were expecting him after all. It was all arranged. He returned to the window. Whatever happened, he refused to let his first arrival in the city go unseen.

Of course, he’d heard stories, but nothing could have prepared him for the experience of standing beneath an entire mountain. As the train passed into the Roots, light from above was abruptly cut off by the overhang of the second stage, the Notch. Eyde turned awkwardly to look upwards as the mountain slithered over him, still in awe of the sheer scale of what he was seeing.

The shouts of porters accompanied the rattling of cargo carriage doors and the hiss of vented steam as he stepped down from the train, his luggage in hand. He had been surprised how little he needed to pack to begin a new life. His sentimental items had taken up less space in his baggage than his field equipment. Still, a fresh start and a clean slate were his reasons for being here, he thought to himself. Surely the cleaner the better.

As passengers began to join the vaporous eddies surrounding him, he recalled the instructions given to him in the lost letter. He was to board one of the two mechanical platforms housed at the station that served to transport the people of Volgorne between its four stages. This would bear him to the Quick, where a representative of the Institute would be waiting. Scouting about, he spotted the immense apparatus. Great cogs spun in place as a metal platform several metres wide and deep descended sedately along beams that rose into the sky at a steep angle. Not wanting to make a bad first impression, Eyde adjusted his waistcoat and the blue ascot at his neck before striding through the crowd towards the men in grey uniforms at the platform’s base. Only to be turned away.

Since then all that weight above his head had begun to make his skin crawl. Banishing the now jaded memories of his arrival, he looked to his left and out to the Interior, the plains onto which the city splayed like ink through water, and onward to the Troeden mountains which fenced in the great city. The sliver of sky he could see held few stars. 

A ringing sound struck out over the area; the hour was getting late. Eyde remembered how he had marvelled at the ingenuity of the large clockwork tower in the centre of the Roots, how he had delighted in hearing the sound of its bell carry across the stage. Eyde had been excited to witness the marvels of precision clockwork so common in Volgorne.  How quickly things can become routine.

He turned down Orden Street, a small walkway that branched off from The Ester, one of the stages eight arterial thoroughfares that cut through the Roots like spokes on a wheel, and trudged towards his rented accommodation. How shocked he had been to discover the dirty secret that lurked behind Volgorne’s shimmering face. After his rejection at the platform, he had wandered into the Roots in search of somewhere to stay. What he had found was a city riddled with abject poverty. The streets were choked with refuse, the people with disease. Everywhere he looked he saw emaciated faces covered with grime. A state that was reflected in the buildings. He had hurried past the hungry, melancholy eyes as they followed him down the street, choosing to duck inside a shop that advertised itself as an apothecary. It was here he had enquired about rooms for rent.

He had been somewhat dismayed upon his arrival that the run-down flat above a hygienically-suspect butcher’s shop in the Seporic Row area was all he could afford. His now landlord, one Mr Grandor, had assured him that this was the best he’d find without going upstage. Eyde had begrudgingly handed over enough silver tors for a month’s rent as Mr Grandor smiled around the end of a foul cigar that left the flat stinking of tobacco for hours after.

Eyde had walked only a few paces before a cry from behind made him turn. As he did so, a figure collided with him, sending them both sprawling to the paving stones.

In the tangle of knees and elbows, Eyde fought to push himself to his feet, checking his satchel for damage as he did so. The wiry, elderly man who had hit him sprang to his feet, clutching at Eyde’s coat. “Please, sir,” he pleaded. “You must help me. They’re after me. I need a place to hide.”

Eyde turned in the direction the man had gestured with his bony fingers and witnessed the cause for the man’s concern. Down the street came three figures at a run, the oil lamps casting strange shadows on their skin, their clothes, their weapons.

Eyde reacted before he could think, dragging the man into a side street, pulling him along as fast as he dared. “Oh, thank you, sir!” The man clung to Eyde’s arm, keeping his voice low as they made haste, twisting and turning through Seporic Row’s multitude of narrow alleyways. 

Eyde threw himself against the alley wall, peering back the way they had come. Seeing no pursuers, he rested his head against the wall, his chest rising and falling as he gasped for air. They’d only been running for a few minutes, but to Eyde’s panicking body it felt like much longer. “I think we’re safe.” He gasped.

“Iphenia be praised, sir,” the old man shook Eyde’s hand with great enthusiasm. “You’ve saved my life. They’d have done me in as soon as they caught me.”

Eyde nodded, still short of breath, “Why were they chasing you?”

The stranger smiled as if he was sharing a deep secret and gently prodded Eyde’s chest with a bony finger, “The city isn’t what it used to be, boy.” Eyde waited, but he gave no further explanation.

“It’s late,” Eyde looked around. “Will you be alright getting home?”

“Perhaps, but if I could impose a little further, I’d appreciate the company. You understand.” 

Eyde suppressed a sigh. All he wanted right now was to be back home in Stirren, warm and comfortable and safe. He looked at the old man, who smiled back at him, and Eyde realised he couldn’t let him walk through the dangerous streets alone. 

He forced a smile onto his face and replied, “Why not?” 

“Good lad,” the old man held out his hand once more. “I’m Kellin, by the way.” 

“Eyde,” he replied, taking Kellin’s hand in a firm grip.

“A pleasure to meet you, Eyde. This way.” With that Kellin turned, leading the way deeper towards the back wall of the Roots.

During his brief time in Volgorne, it had seemed to Eyde that the further you walked into the Roots, the more distressing the atmosphere became. As if light was somehow capable of carrying hope but could not penetrate this far under the foot of the mountain.

The neighbourhood Kellin now led him through was no exception. The taller buildings found nearer the edge of the stage gave way to shorter, unkempt structures. The alleyways between them were clogged with refuse; the smell of it carried into the street. The people here seemed to come in two varieties, those who were making an attempt to conceal their weapons, and those who weren’t. 

Keeping his books clutched to his side, Eyde cursed the man’s slow gait with every excruciating step. “How long have you lived here?” Eyde asked in an attempt to distract himself.

“All my life,” Kellin replied over his shoulder and thumped his fist against his chest. “I’m Volgoran through and through.”

He took one final turn into what appeared to be a dead end of an alleyway littered with the remains of wooden crates and other refuse. Eyde glanced around, panic rising as he saw no way out. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he managed to keep the question out of his tone.

Kellin bent over with laughter, wheezing before he spoke, “Stars, boy. Don’t be daft. What kind of vagabond do you think I am?” Moving to a pile of discarded matter hidden behind the skeleton of a crate, he began to rummage through it.

Eyde peered over his shoulder, “Kellin, as fun as this is, can I ask why you’re sifting through rubbish?”

“Just picking up something I had to drop earlier when those villains were chasing me, lad.” Kellin pulled something from the pile. Holding it up, it glinted and shone in the weak light of the oil lamp. A deep red gemstone the size of a thumb.

Eyde’s brow furrowed. “What’s that?” he asked.

“A family heirloom,” Kellin turned and winked, stashing the stone into a pocket inside his tattered coat. “These thieves will steal anything. Even from a poor old man like me.”

“Right,” Eyde replied with a frown. The gemstone was undoubtedly worth more than anything he owned, and that seemed doubly so for Kellin. Leading the way from the mouth of the alley, Kellin continued deeper into the Roots, arriving in front of an unassuming wooden door after a short walk.

Kellin turned to Eyde and smiled, holding out his hand, “Thanks for today, lad. I’ll see you around.” 

Eyde tried to hide his reticence as he shook Kellin’s hand, finding that something had been placed into his palm when they parted. Looking down, Eyde’s eyes widened at the glint of the coins shining back at him. Far too large a sum for someone as down on their luck as Kellin.

He looked up to protest, but found the door closing as Kellin went inside. Eyde approached the door and banged on it with his fist. “Kellin,” he called. “Kellin, what’s going on here?” He was answered by a great roar as the door flew out of its setting, striking him in the face and knocking him to the floor.

The world became a blur as both his vision and hearing failed. He was being pulled to his feet and dragged along by his wrist. Blinking blood from his eyes, he saw it was Kellin doing the dragging. The man seemed changed, pulling Eyde along with a strength and speed Eyde could not have guessed he possessed. 

“Kellin, what happened?”

Without looking back, Kellin hauled Eyde around several twisting corners, “They were waiting for me, boy. Can’t stay here anymore.” he called back.

“Who are they?” Eyde began to ask but was cut off as a figure clad in dark leather armour dropped from a low roof into the alleyway ahead of them. Kellin skidded to a halt, cursed, and turned, dragging Eyde back through the mouth of the alley.

As he was whipped around the corner, Eyde caught a glimpse of the pursuers from earlier advancing down the street towards them. Kellin tried to take off again, yanking on Eyde’s arm, but Eyde resisted, pulling it free of the old man’s grasp.

Kellin reacted with unexpected ferocity, “Boy, you can’t let them catch us. They’ll not let us go without a beating.”

“There is no us, Kellin,” Eyde turned to face the approaching trio. “Stars and sparks. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want no part of it.” With that, he turned to walk away.

“Have it your way,” Kellin murmured as he retrieved a knife from his sleeve, snaking his arms around Eyde to bring the edge to his throat.

“Kellin,” the woman in the coat took another step forward. “Why is it that when I find you, there’s always a blade involved?” 

Kellin’s reply brought with it a new wave of stench, “Hello, Mina.” He seemed to chuckle as he said her name, his voice bright like the edge pressed against Eyde’s throat. “I suppose you’re just lucky to always see me at my best. Who is it that wants me this time?”

The woman addressed as Mina rolled her eyes “Tell you what, Kellin. Why don’t you give me a list of who you think should be after you and save us both some time?” As she approached with careful steps, Eyde could make out the numerous rings she wore on her fingers. In a similar fashion, her neck was adorned with heavy chains of different precious metals. The broadness of her shoulders was evident, and as her long, sleeveless coat moved, Eyde caught glimpses of hard muscle in the lines of her bare abdomen. 

“I said stay back,” Kellin shouted. 

Mina slowed, but did not stop. “Come on, Kellin. We both know how this goes. You threaten and swagger, but you never actually make good on your threats. In the meantime, Teyvar gets behind you.” She thumbed over her shoulder to where Eyde could make out the same man in dark leather that had threatened them in the alley slinking down a side-street, “I think you really want to be caught. Like you have a guilty conscience.”

Kellin laughed behind Eyde’s ear, “Perhaps you’re right, Mina. But then, maybe I’ve just not had a good enough reason to run before.”

Kellin’s whistle was so loud, it caused Eyde to flinch away. The sound of shouting and clashing blades erupted from the street Teyvar had entered. Mina turned in obvious surprise at the commotion. Grimacing, she broke into a sprint towards Eyde and Kellin. 

Kellin whispered into Eyde’s ear, “Sorry about this, lad. Say hello to the Weeper for me.” drawing the keen edge across Eyde’s throat as he did so.

Blood spilled down Eyde’s front as his eyes locked with those of the approaching Mina, his panic rising as hope began to dwindle. Bony hands dug into his back as he was shoved towards her, Kellin’s cackling laughter filling his ears. Mina caught him, calling out to someone as she laid him on the ground with care, Eyde in too much panic to pay attention. He tried to cling to her, one hand on his throat as if to stem the bleeding as Mina stood and ran after Kellin. Then he was alone.

“Volgorne’s a big place, Eyde. Are you still sure?”

“Of course,” Eyde laughed. “I can’t miss this chance to be part of the Institute. Think of all I could learn.”

“Well, if it’s what you want.” Wend smiled at him over the frothy  tankards of amber beer. “I’ll come and visit you when you’re a renowned researcher.”

Eyde laughed as he sipped the foamy liquid, “Renowned researchers are a rare thing. But you’ll always have a place to stay with me.”

The larger man rubbed his hand through his short beard, “Hard to stay with you if you’re dead, Eyde.”

“What?”

Eyde’s eyes fluttered open. Above him, he could still see the mass of oppressive rock that formed the ceiling of the Roots as it swam into focus. “He’s awake,” a calm, clear voice announced beside him. 

“Good,” A voice he recognised as Mina’s was accompanied by the sound of marching steps. Her face appeared above him, long hair falling down, stopping just before Eye’s nose and blowing in the breeze. “Sit up,” she commanded.

Eyde complied, pushing himself upright. He paused, his hand moved to his neck as realisation dawned. He looked up from his hand covered with dark, clotted blood to Mina, his face a mask of confusion.

“Thank Galatae,” Mina gestured to a young girl with dark skin and deep brown eyes beside her, who gave a smile and graciously nodded her head of close-cropped tight curls. “Now, I assume you’re not in league with Kellin, given that he tried to kill you and all, but endanger my team again and he won’t be the only thing you need to worry about.”

Eyde shook his head, still dazed from the experience,  “I thought I was helping him after he collided with me earlier.”

Mina gave a snort of laughter “That makes sense. No one who knew Kellin would let him get behind them.” Mina walked away, collecting both Galatae and Teyvar. “Don’t get in the way again.” She called over her shoulder as they left, leaving Eyde sitting in the dust.