The World Within the Web

by Lord Max

Chapter XI: Prepared For This

        
Indelio was hotter than Proximo remembered, and he couldn’t help but notice as he walked towards the Wonderbolt in his fine, albeit heavy, clothes. The white color of his clothes was enough to keep off the heat normally, but he was beginning to regret wearing a long-sleeved suit as he proceeded through the dockyard back to the ship, sweat starting to make his vest cling uncomfortably. Still, it hardly dampened the high spirits he’d been having since arriving in the port of Shine.

It was not the largest city in the Devien Isles, nor even on Indelio where the great harbor of Shadeling-upon-Fade attracted ships from all across the Internet, but it was a place filled with happy memories for Proximo Hart. While he walked by the shops and homes, he could recall the days he had spent there in the past: the long holidays in the summer, playing with Gallia in the fountain, his mother’s smile. They were all from the time when he had been a boy, before he became a fool, and then before he became a man again.

It was the newest of the three major cities on Indelio, founded by an admiral and ruled by his descendants. Though it did not attract the level of commerce which Shadeling or Change did, it still enjoyed a certain amount of fame for its trade of inks and dyes, and the quality of its galleries and schools, where young men and women could learn the twenty-four traditional brushstrokes and the four impassioned arts that were taught across the Devien Isles—and, if one had a more martial interest, the Sunset Yellow style of duelling.

War rarely came to the Isles, where most just wanted to paint, trade, and attend parties to pass the time.What conflicts they had were usually resolved one-on-one and overseen by the local authorities and the Knight Censors who operated in the area. Most thought it far more civilized than the battles and fire feuds that frequented the Blurr, but Proximo had the scars to show that even the least important duels had a cost.

Proximo had hoped to stop by Lotus Row, where he had been schooled in some of his younger years. Unfortunately, his task in the city required him to search in other parts of it, including some of the unsavory ones. The Wonderbolt would rest in Shine for a brief time before it proceeded on to the Dreamweave, and Lady Violet did not intend to sit idle while they waited.

Messages had been sent before they had left the Citadel, asking Brony contacts and local information brokers to provide useful intel on the situation. Many had surfaced on Shine to hand it over personally. The Collective had many friends in the Painted Sea who were more than willing to help, and many others hoped to curry favors by providing what they knew.

Stopping in several merchant shops, printing-houses, teashops and taverns had turned up several such individuals, and the portion of their information that was useful was being delivered to Lady Violet at that very moment.

Many of the other passengers and crewmembers of the Wonderbolt had taken the opportunity to walk around the city, but as Proximo walked onto the ship he could see that a few still lingered. Dustario was leaning against the mast, chatting to a pretty Loyal Friend.

“...well of course she’s not as fast, that much I’ll grant you. All I implied was that the Honest was simply stronger,” Dustario said teasingly to his companion as Hart walked past them.

“Pssh, o’ course you’d say that,” she replied, “but I seem to remember the Loyal Friend winnin’ more than a few o’ those competitions, and one o’ them bein’ who was strongest.”

“Oh please, those never decided anything. A real test would be a fair fight, and we both know who’d win that.”

“Aye, we certainly do.”

“Was that a hint of sarcasm I detected?” Dustario said with a raised eyebrow. “Well, I don’t doubt that our dear friends have sparred from time to time, if that’s what you’d like to call it. With such confidence in your Element, perhaps you wouldn’t mind a harmless match with me, to make our respective idols proud?”

She caught the meaning easily enough, and gave a coy smile in reply. “I already got one ship under me, Dusty. Not sure I need ‘nother.”

Proximo couldn’t help but chime in. “I’m afraid it’s all for naught anyways, my friend,” he said to Dustario. “I’m sure we all know that it would be the Generous Friend who proved the strongest of all Six.”

“The Generous?” Dustario said with only half-serious incredulity. “Surely that’s a joke, and a poor one at that. What makes you think she would have a chance?”

Proximo smiled and tapped his forehead. When he saw that, Dustario scoffed and waved his hand dismissively. “Bah, bah I say to you, Mister Hart. Why not leave the poor fighters like myself and Marie alone to our troubles and go find your lady?”

“Now that you’ve recommended it, perhaps I will.” Hart clapped him on the shoulder. “Best of luck now, Dustario. I expect you’ll need it if you hope to ‘spar’ with her.”

Pushing his way into the cabin, Proximo could see that the meeting hadn’t begun yet, though most of the team was already there. There was a rainbow of uniforms around: men and women in white, saffron, pink, purple, and blue alike, near a dozen in all. Some Proximo knew well, and others he’d be meeting for the first time.

Lady Brushshape was speaking with a violet-garbed scholar from the Magic Friends, when she saw Proximo enter. “Ah, you’re here,” she said as her face lit up. “I presume that you have the information we need?”

“All that and more, my lady.” He put the folder of reports, rumors, and recollections down on the table, alongside several others that various agents had compiled. “Hopefully you’ll find it useful. I found the reports concerning the Martes family to be particularly entertaining.”

“Somehow I doubt they’ll remain as endearing in person. Thank you, Proximo.”

After a few minutes passed, they were joined by a new group entering the cabin, three Bronies returning from their own search in Shine. In the front was Prim Enproper, a short man clad in white, with a light blue vest. On his arm was a girl with the yellow robes and upturned pink hood of the Kind Friends, no doubt the one named Rosesoul.

Lagging behind the pair was the unmistakable Caleb Mathet, lumbering along with enough dangling fat that he seemed only a few pounds away from being perfectly round. He was sweating profusely, no doubt from the long walk through the sweltering heat, but nevertheless remained as courteous as ever when he sped up his pace to greet the lady with Prim.

“Lady Brushshape,” Caleb panted with as deep a bow as he could manage. “We have, ahem, have found all the contacts you asked for. I must say, it was quite the chore finding some of them, but there you are. No one said it would be easy, no one at all, eh?”

“I trust that our contacts were cooperative?” Violet asked.

“For the most part, my lady.”

“One of them insisted we meet him on a rooftop,” moaned Prim Enproper. “Up ten flights of stairs, no less. There isn’t room enough in this world for both stairs and me, I swear. Roofs are just as bad. They stay up now, but who knows what they’re planning? Gravity is too fickle for me.” He gave a depressed sigh, and stared gloomily at the wooden ceiling above them.

“But, ah, but where are my manners?” continued Caleb. “While Prim and I were in the city, we happened upon the late-coming member of our honorable band, Miss Rosesoul here.”

The Kind Friend stepped forward, and curtsied to the Warden. Rosesoul had the features of a Devien, with eyes both dark and thin, and a heart-shaped face, but also blond hair that seemed natural from where Hart stood. She was very small and somewhat plump, though not to an unattractive degree, and gave an immaculate smile to the Warden after she approached. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Violet. I was so excited after Lady Semmer asked me to join you, knowing I’d be able to meet a legend like yourself in person.”

The Warden smiled and waved her hand. “Please, Rosesoul, you’ll make me blush. Truthfully, I was excited to hear you were joining us as well. It’s not every day that I’m able to meet with one of our contemplative sisters.”

A Sister Shy, eh? Proximo thought as he looked at the newcomer for a second time. Following the example of their mentor, the contemplatives of the Kind Friend were often considered isolated and introspective, spending their time in tight-knit groups far from civilization ruminating on the nature of Six in silence. They were not unlike the famed ascetic monks of the Authority, which made one of them a strange choice for a diplomatic mission. Still, she came at Lady Semmer’s recommendation, so she must have some skill to offer.

Despite Lady Violet’s claim, it was Rosesoul who blushed from the compliment. Proximo took the moment to introduce himself as well. “Well met, Miss Rosesoul. I have the honor of being Lady Violet’s assistant, Proximo Hart.”

“Hart?” she said with a tilt of her head. “Your name seems familiar, if you don’t mind me saying. Do you have family around here?”

He hesitated. “Yes, although—”

Proximo was cut off when the Warden of Honesty entered the room, with two of his followers at his side. One of them was the warrior-woman Strongshield, glaring around the room suspiciously with a hand on her sword hilt. The other was a more genial-looking man with trimmed blond hair. All three wore orange and yellow, with Honest Eyes printed on cuiresses that Hart would have thought to be unbearable to wear in such heat. The Warden seemed unconcerned, however, as he marched into the room, keeping his ugly head low to avoid hitting himself on the ceiling.

Rosesoul’s eyes went big as dinner plates when she saw Honesty enter. “Oh my,” she said to Proximo in a tone somewhere between shock and delight. “He is a big one, isn’t he? I heard the stories, but I never actually believed…” Her voice trailed off, and Hart couldn’t help but notice the odd look on her face as she started looking the Warden up and down.

Pushing the disturbing implications of that aside, Proximo watched as the giant and his trailing attendants made their way to the table, standing beside Lady Violet. “Have what you asked for,” he said flatly before motioning to Strongshield. She pulled out a handful of crumpled papers and tossed them onto the table. The Warden turned his eye over to Rosesoul after that. “Not from Citadel. Name?”

The Kind Friend curtsied again. “Rosesoul, m’lord. I was asked to join your mission from my place with the Benevolent Friends of the Higher Compassion. I hope to assist you in any way I can.” She fluttered her eyelashes at the Warden.

“A contemplative,” the Warden replied, betraying no concern on the matter. “Hrm.” He looked back to Violet. “Begin?”

“Yes, I suppose we’re ready now,” she said. She gathered the papers together, forming them into a neat stack in the center of the table. All the people in the room dropped their conversations and approached her, crowding around to join her before she spoke.

“Ostensibly,” Violet said to them all, “the Wonderbolt and company have stopped in Shine to restock and prepare for the last leg of our voyage to the Dreamweave. However, you’re all aware that our unspoken purpose was to check in with our contacts, call in our favors, and gather any and all useful information about our destination before we proceed. This task you’ve done.” She held up the one of the folders. “And done well. For that, I thank you all.” Violet turned to her assistant. “Would you care to start us off, Proximo?”

“Gladly, my lady,” Proximo replied. He picked out a folder from amid the pile. “The Dreamweave,” he said, “is only just ahead. Within the Palace of Aureliano, the two diplomats we sent to their court—Dabrius Joh and Greenglade, both—are held in custody, as they have been for the last few weeks. With our arrival imminent, the representatives from the Authority are already within the city, being hosted by the rulers of the Dreamweave.”

“That would be House Martes,” said one of the others in the room—Theosyrius Kang, a fellow follower of the Generous Friend. He was a slim figure, black in his hair and beard save for strands dyed pale, and was clad in white and grey colors. “There are a dozen families of good breeding in the Dreamweave, but the Martes rule all, and have done so for generations. Aureliano the Third rules the city and the island both, alongside a wife of two years.” Theo gave an oily smirk. “It is a shame that their prestige has not taken them far. They are quite unpopular, as I have heard it.”

“Any details?” one of the Kind Friends in the back asked.

Theosyrius shrugged, letting a grey-dyed hair fall over his eyes. “The Dreamweave was never the greatest city in the Painted Sea, but it has gained a sordid reputation of late—gangs and drugs and the like—and most blame Lord Aureliano for it. Half say he’s too harsh, the rest think he’s too soft. It’s impossible to please some people.”

Lady Violet spoke up again. “I understand that Lord Aureliano has a brother as well. What of him?”

Theosyrius snorted. “Arcadio. A great maniac, if half of what I have heard is true.”

“Indeed,” said Caleb, patting his forehead with a handkerchief. “My lady, I gleaned a great many rumors of this ‘Arcadio,’ and not a word of it was good. A man of devilish character, all told, and wrapped ‘round all manner of vile volition, I do say. They say he is a torturer, or worse.” A grimace crossed Caleb’s face, as he emphatically poked a finger into his palm for emphasis. “That one will be trouble.”

Rosesoul spoke up. “How much will we need to deal with them? It’s the Authority that’s in charge of the investigation, is it not?”

“Very true,” said Theosyrius, “but this trial is wrapped up in politics now, and the Martes will be doing everything in their power to see us condemned. We’ll have to watch our step around them. Some of the other families could be bought or convinced, but Aureliano and his kin seem convinced of our guilt. Or so my contacts say.”

“While we’re on the Authority,” another Brony said, “what should we expect from them?”

“They’ve put themselves in charge of this matter,” Lady Violet answered. “The Martes may be putting on airs, but it’s the Lord Moderator we’ll have to convince if we’re to rescue Dabrius and Greenglade. It will be more investigation than trial: both sides will present evidence, and we’ll be given leave to collect such evidence on our own.”

Caleb bobbed his head. “Quite right, my lady, quite right. As requested, Prim and I looked to find whatever we could about the people the Authority has sent, and find we did.” He fumbled through the stack of papers and pulled one of them out, opening it in his doughy hands. “The investigation will be done with a Rule of Three: three Authority representatives will be presiding over the proceedings, and the verdict must be agreed upon by at least two of them. The Lord Moderator in charge of the Dreamweave, Dyren Halforth, is one of them, and the other two are a Knight Censor and a Knight Arbiter who were randomly selected.”

“The Knight Arbiter is Sir Borlund Barr,” chimed in Prim. “There weren’t many details on him, except that he was had a… noteworthy assignment before being posted to the Painted Sea.” Prim’s look was one of downcast resignation—same as always. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems that Sir Borlund served in the Chan, during the First Rise.”

Several people in the room groaned at that.

Hadrena, another member of the Generous Friends, looked slightly amused at the news, something that Proximo did not find surprising. She was dark skinned and dark humored, tall and slim as a knife with a smile that cut like one. “I don’t suppose,” she asked, moving a finger over one of her ear-studs, “that there is any chance he fought for our side?”

“This is me we’re talking about, Hadrena,” replied Prim. “There’s never a chance for good news. Apparently Sir Borlund was part of the first force they sent to quell our fandom, but didn’t stay long. He was demoted for cowardice after three months.”

Hadrena smiled, looking up from her chair in the corner. “Perhaps there’s still reason to be optimistic, then. After all, he might just run away a second time.”

Strongshield curled her lip at that. “An enemy and a coward. Are you sure this pig was chosen randomly? The Authority probably put him there purposefully, to make sure we are condemned.”

Caleb and Prim glanced at one another. “It is… not impossible,” admitted Caleb, “but we haven’t had word that the selection was tampered with. By all accounts, it was done fairly. At any rate, it will not do to accuse them of that. Not do at all, I say.”

Strongshield scoffed and folded her arms, but said nothing more.

“What about the other knight?” asked Lady Violet.

“Alwin Cameron,” answered Caleb. “It’s strange to say, but both of us found almost nothing about him. He must be newly knighted, as no one could name a place of service, but one man claimed that he had family in the Knight Censors. We were sent records of a brother, a father, and an uncle sharing his name and all working within the Censorate, so I say that much is true. Other than that, though, he seems utterly unrecognized.”

“The only thing remarkable about him is how unremarkable he is,” said Prim. “Probably some bureaucrat given a knighthood because of the family connection. Still, he’s probably more likely to side with us than Barr is. Not that that’s saying much.”

Caleb bobbed his head. “It’s true, my lady, that Barr might cause problems. But I think the Lord Moderator begs more concern.”

“I can agree with that.” Captain Skytide stepped forward, with a hand on the lapel of his sky-blue uniform. “I’ve sailed around the Painted Sea a fair bit, and met often with men from the Authority, but this Dyren Halforth is something very different. People talk about him like he’s Tristram Twice-Dead come again, and he’s made some large ripples in the Authority as well.”

“I heard a few whispers about him as well,” said Hadrena, still luxuriating in the corner. “A very intriguing man. Pure Centrellian by birth, began study with the Knight Censors at twelve, and excelled in all subjects. He requested a squiring under a knight joining an expedition against the Chan, oddly enough. Knight after only a half-year, won a dozen medals, and was scouted by the High Censor for a lordship after another two terms. Some people say he’ll have the High Censor’s job, at some point. For now, our esteemed Lord Dyren Halforth is the chair of the Channic-Authority Relations Committee, and quite the war-hawk as I have heard it.” That enigmatic smile appeared again. “He seems to have quite the laundry list of achievements, I must say.”

“And that’s only the official history,” Theosyrius added pointedly. “I’ve heard some whispers as well, as it happens. Some gave me rumors of classified assignments done by Halforth—work with the white-hats, hunting down rogue cybramancers and the like. Wetwork, one might call it. He’s harsh, by any account. Merciless, even. One delicious morsel I caught onto,” Theosyrius said with a smile and a raised eyebrow, “is that he sentenced his own son to hang.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the Bronies. Lady Violet silenced them. “Is that true?”

Theosyrius shrugged. “Hard to say. Rumors are only rumors, my lady. Until they are not, of course.”

Lady Violet frowned. “I’ve heard as much as well. Still, Lord Mars seemed to think he could be convinced. We’ll have to look into it.” She turned to Prim and Caleb. “What about the rest of the team the Authority sent?”

“Basic investigation team, my lady,” said Prim. “A few low-level operators looking to be knighted, working alongside the city guard—and us, pretty soon. Not many notables among them, but there were a few names. Cellia Ravenry, Depravity Blair… like I said, no one that you’d know, my lady.”

One of the Kind Friends raised a hand to stop him. “Hold on a second,” he interjected. “I’m sorry to interrupt sir, but did you say Depravity Blair?”

“Technically it’s ‘Do-Not-Lead-Our-Family-Into-Depravity Blair,’ ” Prim replied. “They have some odd names in Central. Not that I should be talking.”

Lady Violet seemed to consider everything that was said carefully, then sighed and spoke. “There’s more to this, I’m sure, but it will take more time to comb through all this and confirm the facts. We can speak more about this later, everyone — I’m sure most of you have other preparations to make for our arrival. Thank you for your help,” she said. “Caymen, would you care to offer a dedication for us?”

The violet-robed man sent by Lord Feylen nodded. “With pleasure, my lady.” He bowed his head, shutting his eyes to the ground. The rest of the room did the same.

“In the name of the Honest Friend,” he said in a reverent voice, “may we find the truth to absolve our brothers in the Dreamweave, and remain pure of deception ourselves. In the name of the Magic Friend, may we remember that the greatest strength in this world comes from the bond between one another, and the love around us. And in the name of the Generous Friend, may we extend the aid of our hands to all those in need, no matter the cost to ourselves. By your inspiration, our actions are taken, Six Friends Who Are One, and to your name are our lives dedicated. Six and One.”

“Six and One,” came the reply.

After that, the men and women began to stream out of the room, going back to the decks so they could return to their rooms, their ships, or to the city for the remains of the day. Proximo caught Prim Enproper’s eye before he left. “So, where to now, Prim?” he asked.

“Off to find some meager nourishment,” Prim said despondently. “We worked straight through lunch, Caleb and I, and now the hunger’s setting in. I’d give the world for a bagel. Not that I have the world, mind you. I’d have nowhere to put it, first of all.” He frowned. “I saw a place on the street. ‘All-day food.’ All-day... who on in the Web has the time for that?” He shook his head in disbelief and traipsed on.

Before Proximo also walked out, however, Lady Violet stopped Theosyrius, taking his arm with her hand. She kept her voice low, but Proximo could still hear the two vaguely. “Anything about them?” she asked quietly.

Theo hesitated. “Nothing, so far as I can tell. Though I have heard some details about them that ma—”

“Later,” she interrupted him. “That’s best saved for another time as well, I think. Thank you for searching, Theo.” After that, Theosyrius excused himself with a bow, and hurriedly walked out. Only Proximo, Lady Violet, and the Warden of Honesty were left in the room.

Honesty was the first to speak. “Is this one excused?” he asked Violet. It was odd that such an imposing man felt the need to ask her for such a thing, but his voice showed the same deference that Proximo noticed him give to Lord Feylen weeks prior.

Lady Brushshape seemed to notice the strangeness of it as well. “You don’t need to ask me, you know,” she laughed. “You’re as much a Warden as I am.”

“We are in your service. Until mission is complete,” he replied matter-of-factly.

She shook her head, but smiled. “Very well then. The answer is yes, so long as there was nothing else you wanted to talk about, friend.”

“Nothing. Objective clear. Captives must be freed. We will do this.”

“I know. Just remember your caution, Honesty. There’s more than one way to solve this,” she said firmly. Proximo couldn’t help but notice how deliberate that request was. Does she fear what he might do as well? he wondered. He made a mental note to ask her later.

“Hrm,” was the Warden’s only response. After that, he turned around and left the cabin as well.

Lady Violet’s eyes lingered on the doorway after her honest friend departed. “Is everything alright, my lady?” Proximo said. She seemed troubled.

She shook her head. “Fine, Proximo, just nerves.” She sighed. “This one might be a challenge, I’m afraid.”

Proximo went to her side. “We’ve been through far worse, my lady. Remember that time with the Escapists?” he said with his most reassuring smile.

The lady laughed. “Too clearly, I think. I’m still fairly sure that our little experience at the banquet was the fastest I’ve ever stood up in my life. It was exhausting, if I remember correctly.”

Proximo nodded. “If you don’t mind my asking, my lady,” he said gently, “what was it that you and Theo had to speak about?”

She gave her assistant a look, but waved her hand. “Just a feeling I wanted looked into, nothing more. If it becomes relevant, I’ll let you know.”

He suspected that wasn’t the whole truth, but when the doubt started to come back to her face, he felt it was best to change the subject. “Would my lady care for my help in planning an outfit for tomorrow?”

Lady Violet’s face lit up immediately. “I would like nothing better, Mister Hart.”
        

“The Devien Isles stand as one of the largest and most prosperous sites in the Painted Sea, though they were not always a united political entity. Comprised of six major islands and dozens of smaller ones, the Isles were once the homes of several petty sites, each vying for influence and citizens. In time, these smaller nations either declined into nothing or were absorbed by a new order, formed by the cooperation of nobles families from each of the various factions.

“Certain differences do, of course, persist between the individual islands. Sublimides has always been the largest, with its port of Silkensigh serving as the de-facto capital of the Isles, whereas Indelio and Artemides have become known for their valued merchants and Kursedos for its skilled craftsmen. Each cultivates their own specific style of expression and own particular trade goods (though olives, dyes, wine, and of course art are mainstays from all of them), and even have developed varying schools of dueling and fighting to aid its citizens in self-defense, settling matters of honor, or simply staying fit.

“The Isles are a society based around talent, prestige, courtesy, and personal honor: one’s place in society is generally determined by the recognition and acclaim they have received from others for their work. In practice, this has meant that the Isles are largely controlled by various wealthy families who can better afford the extensive schooling necessary to learn the twenty-four traditional brushstrokes and the four impassioned arts that are accepted — these elites are called ‘The Ones of Gifted Lineage,’ many of whom claim to be descended from their legendary forefather, Devio.

“When disputes arise or matters come to light that affect all of the Isles, the first-born children of these proud houses come together into a single august body, known as the Chamber, in order to resolve the issues — but this is rarely needed. Unlike the Blurr, the larger, more populated, and more unstable land to the south, the Isles rarely see the need for full-blown conflict, preferring to resolve matters between individuals or families on a private basis, usually through subtle politics or duelling.

“Also unlike the Blurr, the Devien Isles largely accept the laws and principles of the Moderator Authority: rather than view Central with suspicion or resentment, the Deviens are more than happy to allow a sizable Moderator presence in their land, accepting the judgements of the Knight Censors and taking a certain care to keep their behavior within Authority standards. That being said, works that are considered to be ‘of an indecent quality’ are still common in the Isles, and their distribution is still confined to special red-zones established by the Censors…”