*Janus*
Departure days always feel strange, as if the world is holding its breath. We weren’t leaving until noon, when the sun would hang heavy and bright above us, but everything was already packed and waiting by the Teleportation circle since yesterday. Baron Karl Morenberg, Aldmoor’s mayor, nearly missed us. He arrived late last night, just before we would have left him behind. I suppose he would have used Duke Winslow’s circle, if not for everything that happened with the bandits and the undead. That disaster left a rift between them, and even the mercenaries the duke sent ended up among the shambling dead.
The Baron had severed all ties with Duke Winslow and drifted into our orbit, whether he liked it or not. The last time I saw him, he looked like a ghost of himself, the stress having whittled away more than a few of his chins. Now, after Duke Siegfried Lunae sent him crates of food, part apology, part thanks for keeping his daughter, Gertrude , I mean, Trudy, safe, he’d regained every last one. I couldn’t help but think the gifts were less about gratitude and more about smoothing over the chaos Trudy left in her wake.
The Baron left his butler, Ernst, to mind things in his absence, while he chased after new sponsors and whatever help he could find. Maybe the faith that sent the Solar Knights would take pity, or maybe the King himself. By turning his back on Duke Winslow, he’d thrown his lot in with the royalists on our side, more or less. Not that the Yuwen family fits neatly anywhere. We only bother with politics when it threatens the Ibasans or us, and even then, we keep our distance.
Once everyone was gathered, which included my entire family, the Baron and Rika with her parents, and the last of the preparations finished, we slipped underground into the old dungeon. My father led the way, even though he wouldn’t be coming with us. I think he just wanted to see us off.
We slipped into one of the countless cells, each one as plain and forgettable as the next. My father pressed his hand to the wall, fingers finding hidden stones with the ease of old habit. The heavy door slid open, silent as a secret, and darkness spilled out to greet us. Most of us had seen this trick before, but little Fiona and Maggie stared wide-eyed, mouths open in wonder. Ruby lingered, still watching the wall long after we’d moved on, as if hoping to catch the magic at work.
At the end of the corridor, the stone gave way to a wide door, and beyond it, the Teleportation circle waited. The chamber was a perfect dome, ten meters across, its walls smooth as river stones, as if the mountain itself had been hollowed out by careful, ancient hands. Sometimes I wonder how much beauty and power the old kingdom left behind, and how little we truly understand. Ruby, though, barely noticed the room—her gaze was fixed on the floor, tracing the faded runes scattered like forgotten memories.
I remembered being just a little older than Fiona and Maggie. I snuck in and spent an entire afternoon hunched over those runes, convinced I could puzzle them out. Otto found me there and gently explained that no one remembered their meaning anymore. Our circle, he said, was the youngest built after the great cataclysm, when hope was thin, and the beastmen pressed close. Maybe that’s why the walls are so bare, stripped of anything but purpose, which honestly was a little sad.
There’s a catch, of course. If the circle ever fell into the wrong hands, it would be a disaster, so it can’t be activated from here, only from the capital. To keep everyone safe, we all had to gather hours in advance, just in case. It’s a strange kind of waiting, heavy with the sense that something important is about to begin, only to end shortly after.
My father said his goodbyes and slipped away, locking the door behind us so none of us could wander off. Too many stories float around about people losing fingers, or worse, to the circle’s magic. Every year, someone stumbles, a child gets too curious, and the circle takes its price. Maggie and Fiona had strict orders from their mothers not to touch anything, but I could see the temptation in their eyes.
Still, for all its dangers, the circle is safer than any coach or horse, and so much faster. No bandits lurking in the woods, no rival lords waiting to cause trouble, no rain or broken wheels. It sounded so good that, for a moment, I almost forgot about all the headaches that were no doubt waiting for us at the other end.
The twins Seraphina and Alexander had thankfully gone to sleep in this darkness, and so had Teresa. Ruby wasn't too thrilled when she first heard the names I had picked; she found them too long and pretentious, but was still happily calling them Sera and Alex. She looked quite horrified when I told her my full name was not Janus but Januarius, because I was born in January, and was my father's first child. Janus was just a nickname. It's not really her fault; no one uses my real name anyway.
Anna kept to herself, which was a relief, though I couldn’t help but notice the way she watched Ruby and the twins. It left a sour taste in my mouth, but I tried not to dwell on it.
William and Jack, the older twins, were playing cards with Averall, who looked a little lost without Juliet. Her parents refused to let her come, and honestly, I couldn’t blame them. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t send my own children to the capital either. Somehow, the city feels more dangerous than any fortress under siege. Maybe it’s because, in the capital, you can’t just cut down any would-be threat.
There wasn't much to do down here except for waiting. We waited, the minutes stretching out until they felt endless. When the circle finally flared to life, I took one last look at everyone, almost the whole Yuwen family, all together, except for my father. Then the world went black, and I felt something tug me eastward, a force I couldn’t fight. Light crashed back in, and a scream split the air, sharp enough to make my heart stumble.