《RE: Monarch》


 Chapter 1-2. Ignis I

    Chapter 1-2. Ignis I


    My mother used to tell me stories of the old gods. Rhadis. Khetrix. Elphion. Onara. I struggled to stay awake those nights, fighting the ever-growing weight of my eyelids, struggling desperately to make it through just one more tale, wanting nothing more than to ride upon their victories and battles till morning light. It was engrained in me from childhood that one day I would join them, not as a supplicant before a deity but as a deity myself. That was what it meant to be Cairn, son of Gil, descendent of Thotar himself. When I crossed into the afterlife, the watcher would see the purity of my bloodline, the value of my very soul, and welcome me into Valhalla. I was the recipient of a noble gift. All I had to do was die honorably in battle.


    They lied.


    The day I died started innocently enough. Stepmother was buzzing around like a common maid, tossing clothes around, holding them up, clucking her tongue, and then putting them back.


    Oh, why dont we have anything for you in purple. You look so dashing in purple, Genevieve fretted. I pulled the covers over my head, hoping that if I just ignored her, shed go away. The sound of fabric swishing continued, capitalized by little staccato sighs. Infuriating.


    I threw the blankets off with a flourish and sat up. She was somewhere near the back of the closet, managing to completely disappear within the expanse of dyed wool and cotton.


    Ill find something appropriate, I said, barely managing constrained civility. Its a coronation, mother, same as the rest. The crown is passing from father to son.


    It is historic. Dont talk about yourself like you dont matter, darling. She crossed the double door gap to the other side to further bother my garments. Youre a prince, and more importantly, my darling boy. Im just going to give you a few options to pick from. I know how you get.


    When I finally return to the Pantheon in the afterlife, I believe simply surviving my stepmother will rank chief among my accolades. You would be hard-pressed to name a person more needling or generally bothersome. The contrast between my parents was almost comical. Father, a living legend. He united Silodan under a single flag. He fought in countless wars, slaughtered armies, subjugated rebellion and established peace.


    Then theres my stepmother, whose achievements include teatime diplomacy, picking outfits, and the vice chairyes, you read that correctly, the vice-chairof the Noble Ladies Book Club. The logic never ceases to confound. Its not as if there were no better options. Whitefall had plenty of strong warriors, male and female. Tournaments had become more fierce and less gender segregated. King Gil had his pick of plenty of viable, superior matches. Yet, he chose her. Genevieve. Perhaps after all his accomplishments, my father just wanted something simple.


    Dont say it. Mother warned. She had shifted from her nattering to watch me from inside the closet.


    Say what?


    Whatever it is youre thinking. You always look all squinty right before you say something nasty.


    Such cruel, baseless accusations. I feigned hurt.


    Mother sniffed, managing to sound affronted and apathetic simultaneously, before continuing her work. You know, the sooner you stop mooning over that girl-


    Enough. Anger rose in my throat like hot bile. I rose from the bed and pushed past her into the closet, grabbing the first thing that didnt look overly frilly and tossing it on, ignoring her cry of protest and cloying fingers.


    Dont forget the offering for tonight!


    Theyd always been like this, my parents. It wasnt enough that they ruled all of Siladon. No, that would be too simple. They had to dominate every aspect of our lives. I stalked down the hallway, servants and other lessers scurrying out of my way. Everyone suddenly had somewhere better to look and I realized I wore what my younger sister referred to as, Tyrant Face. No matter. That worked better for my purposes right now anyway, Id rather not be delayed from my brusque walk towards the gates. I needed the sort of air that only existed outside the confines of the castle.


    Thunder boomed, threatening to deafen anyone in earshot, despite the absence of a single cloud in the sky. Someone yelped in the courtyard. Another flash of lightning, another yelp. I couldn''t help but smile. My older sister was sparring with the guards again.


    The courtyard was a disaster area. Grass scorched black, topped with cherried red embers, burning out only to be immediately reignited. What was astonishing was how little attention the scene was drawing. People walked back and forth along the walkway, barely raising an eyebrow, sometimes pausing when an errant crackling ball of fire was thrown their way, or tossing a dirty look when they caught a proximity shock. Funny how commonplace even the strangest events become, given enough time.


    The Guards werent doing much, though, thats likely because they were mostly strewn on the ground, some breathing hard, others completely unconscious. Several chanting priests in the ceremonial Bakhal robes walked among the dozen bodies, occasionally stopping to spritz crimson water across the foreheads of the more gravely injured. From my limited knowledge, the water was only latently magic, and the chemical smell that made my head spin from all the way over here was primarily a smelling salt.


    Poor bastards.


    Sera headed my way, awkwardly attempting to step over an incredibly broad man before giving up, hiking up her robe, and using his chest as a footbridge. My oldest sister pulled her attunement gloves off. She was almost tragically tall, towering over all the women of the castle and most of the men. There was a rumor that had persisted for almost as long as I could remember that Sera was a half-elf. Total nonsense, but unlike many rumors about my sister, there was some logic to this one: her height and magic.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Hundreds of years ago, we thought magic belonged exclusively to the demi-humans. That it was some result of their heritage, or some ability unique to their psychology, or, more heretically, their gods. But as humans began to proliferate across Siladon, the talent began to show up in one in every thousand.


    My liege, she said with a deep bow, eyes twinkling from my stiff reaction.


    Cut the shit.


    Ooh, my, arent we snippy this morning. Wake up on the wrong side of mother again?


    I looked at her blankly, wondering if she ever fully considered the implications of her words.


    Well, did you? She pressed. Her cool eyes glimmered in the winter sun.


    I stepped past her, making a show of surveying the wreckage. Even the shrubbery was beaten and bruised, leaning pathetically to the side. I see youve been terrorizing the help.


    Cairn, she warned, they are loyal knights, our first and last line of defense.


    I maintained my blank stare, giving her nothing. Finally, we both broke, cracking up beneath the sun-kissed sky.


    Stable? I asked.


    Stable.


    We made our way through the lower sections to the outer yard and stable. The castle was an architects wet dream: sprawling and intimidating, consistently valuing form over function. After a lifetime of existing within the walls the sense glamour fades, and the only remotely interesting thing about it is its various quirks. For example, Its cold all year long, so snow gathers on the towering roofs, needing only an errant wind to shift loose and come slamming down on some unsuspecting sap. Theres a betting pool for who will be hit next.


    Sera shooed the stable hands away and, after one thorough check to make sure we were alone, broke into one of the stalls, pulling out a wine skin with a knowing smile.


    A present for his highness. She purred. I snatched it away from her with more force than necessary.


    If you keep making dumb little jokes like that, making light of my status-


    Someone will put it together, yes, yes. Theres no one here. Relax. Sera stuck out her tongue before reaching out an upturned hand.


    There were plenty of witnesses in the courtyard. I glared, and took an extra swig out of spite.


    Plebeian!


    Shrew.


    Sera snatched the wine skin back and held it to her chest like some sort of jealous treasure hunter, then upturned the skin, taking several large gulps while maintaining eye contact. She handed it over casually, as if she hadn''t just thrown down the gauntlet. After a moment''s hesitation, I took a light sip, deciding to end the escalation there while we both still had legs. My mind slipped away from me, summoning the image it always did of late: brown honeyed skin, chocolate eyes looking down at me through a canopy of chestnut hairI squinted my eyes shut, frowning.


    Hey, Seras voice cut through the image. Her warm hand was on my arm. Gently, I shifted away from her, and she let go, hand dropping to her side.


    Im sorry, Cairn.


    Dont. I took a long pull from the wine skin. It burned in a way that good wine never should, but succeeded in clearing my head and incinerating the unwanted image. In that instant of clarity, I looked at my sister. To an outside observer, it might seem like we were great friends. Like we had a solid relationship, a codependent bond of support and commiseration. In truth, we were completely estranged little more than two months ago.


    Father drove the wedge in early, figuring if he could turn us against each other, wed be more competitive, more likely to learn. They were right. But unfortunately, an accumulation of resentment over the course of an entire childhood isn''t the sort of thing you just let go of. The only reason Sera no longer hated me was because, on a rare sunny day six months ago, I told her a secret that would alter the course of her life. Still, it meant something to me that she tried: prompting me to open up. Raiding the winery. Treating me like a friend and actual sibling.


    Shit.


    It took everything I had to keep my expression blank. A creeping worry built in my chest. How much did he know?


    Whats there to be angry about? I asked, shrugging. Youre about to be king. Thaddeuss eyebrow climbed higher and I wished I''d said nothing at all.


    But say I was. Imagine, just for a moment that my parents had made a grave miscalculation in their attempts to prepare me for succession. They meant well, but they wounded me deeply.


    I cant imagine youd let your emotions get in the way. In fact, Im not even sure you have them. Emotions, that is.


    Of course. Thaddeus pouts, an image I really could have gone without. But imagine for a moment that I am a lesser man. It would be tempting for anyone to take advantage of the events to exact some sort of... justice. At the very least, to use the coronation to embarrass them.


    Relief flooded me and I relaxed. He had some sense of the situation but nothing in the way of specifics. This whole interaction had been nothing more than a fishing expedition. Still, something about his manner was questionable.


    A bit dangerous to refer to a king as a lesser man, isnt it? I asked him, letting the ice into my tone. It almost sounds like hypothetical treason, Thaddeus.


    Thaddeus bowed deeply, showing his too-white smile. I live to serve in the demonstrable, my lord. Forgive this old man the occasional flight of fancy.


    Think nothing of it.


    I made it a few feet away, quick to put distance between us before an idea struck. Thaddeus, I said carefully. Say I was in the market for some clothes.


    Clothes, my lord? His beard twitched.


    Im a day away from having to be very selective with my outfits. Let''s say I wanted to go all out on my last day of freedom. Where in Whitefall should I go if I want to try on everything?


    Ah. Thaddeus leaned forward, face over-serious. I may have a few ideas.


    The next four hours were exhausting. I soaked up the bliss quietly for a few minutes before I leaned over to kiss Illia on the cheek. Reth glowered at me from the other side, so I pushed CatarinesI think that was her nameleg out of the way to plant another kiss on Reths forehead. It was suddenly tempting to just forget about my coronation and stay the rest of the dayrest of the year even. Say what you want about Thaddeus, the man was a master of two categories, lying and laying.


    With a sigh, I navigated the tangle of bodies and staggered off the bed to a cacophony of disappointed cries. Their smoky eyes nearly drew me back, and their enthusiasm was infectious.


    My lord!


    Dont leave yet!


    Were just getting started.


    You havent even sampled the fun side of the menu.


    Honestly, if we lived in Panthania, Id take you all as wives my dears. But unfortuantely, this is Uskar. I leaned down towards Catarines head and stage whispered, We have to at least pretend to be monogamous.


    Pity.


    I slid my jacket on and buckled my pants. Mourn me well, new friends, for I go to a place you cannot follow. My farewell was met with coos and cries and sultry poses, and I took one last long look, hoping to commit the scene to memory.


    From there, it was a short skip down the street to the Nobles Cassock. There my friends bought me drinks while I joked, and japed and tried laboriously to think of them kindly. It wasnt their fault that their parents were conniving bastards. I tried to think that, in another world, if I wasnt the heir to the throne, we would all still somehow be friends. Then someone would elbow me chummily and all too casually mention a court appointment or a favor to be named later and the illusion fell to ruin. My fathers words echoed in my head. A king does not have friends. He has allies.


    Perhaps the only sentiment on which we agreed.


    A bard, either incredibly insightful or absurdly lucky, strummed out an instrumental only rendition of The Princes Lament. I slid off my stool and approached, the world drunkenly shifting from side to side. The bard raised an amused eyebrow at me and continued to play. Not coincidence, then. Too clever by half. The state of his clothing was ragged, his face dirty and unwashed. A sense of respect washed over me. The Nobles Cassock was more than a little on the high end of the nose. It followed that this particular bard had played his ass off to get here.


    Greetings to the bard.


    Regrets to the noble.


    Mouthy. I liked him immediately. Interestingly, he didnt correct me, meaning he was either unscrupulous or a legitimate bard. Traveling minstrels and troopers were a bronze sliver a dozen in these parts, but actual bards were rare.


    I raised my hand with two fingers extended and glanced towards the barkeep, requesting a refill for the both of us. The bard bowed appreciatively, fingers strumming all the while. A serving girl brought out the drinks. Mine was served in the same embellished metal stein Id been drinking from for the last hour, while the bards was brought in a stained wooden mug. I smelled it experimentally and winced, firing a glare at the bartender before switching our drinks.


    I took a long pull from the wooden mug, wincing as the acrid taste hit the back of my throat. Sander been making you drink this piss all day?


    The bard shrugged, played the final chord of the chorus and stopped, reaching to take the traded mug. Beer is beer milord. He smelled his new drink and looked delighted, taking a sip, savoring it. However, hades will melt to a puddle before I ever turn down an Oteron. Its nice to see that not everyone around these parts has forgotten proper hospitality. His accent betrayed the fact that he wasnt local. Certain consonants were elongated in a subtle old county twang.


    And this is the good side of town. Stay out of Topside if you can manage it, I said darkly, nothing but sorrow to be found there.


    Appreciate the advice, The bard replied, though I suspected he was already aware.


    Topside, unintuitively, did not refer to the true north of Whitehall, rather the west. When the city was first established, the castle, mercantile, and educational districts were all constructed first, built closer to the road for easier trade and access. The poorer and less desirable real estate was pushed out to the west. While the east was properly spaced, with a reasonable distance between each building and well-maintained roads, the west was cramped, buildings at the far end jammed up against the mountain itself. Over time, the roads grew smaller and smaller. It was the geographical equivalent of a hangmans noose. The corresponding unrest and eventual upheaval had been as inevitable as breathing, though my father had crushed it so mercilessly that there hadnt much noise since the revolt nine years ago.


    How long have you been in the city? I asked, killing the beer with as much resentment as one could have towards a beverage and signaling for another.


    A week? Give or take a day. With the clouds constantly darkening the sky its hard to keep ones sense of time around these parts. He plucked a single note on an open string, adjusted the corresponding tuning key, then moved to the next.


    Thank Elphion for the sun today. You think its bad now, wait until we get further into winterscrest, I joked, eventually it stops being about how cold it is and becomes a question of how long you can stay outside before breathing your last.


    The bard shuddered. Too much for my summer blood. I''ll be long gone by then. My friends had finally noticed my absence and were shooting questioning glances in my direction. I sighed.


    I should be getting back.


    It was a pleasure, milord. There was a hint of something in his voice, but it was too subtle to know for sure if I was being mocked.


    Say, bard?


    Yes milord?


    How are you at composition?


    After a brief negotiation, I left him with an invitation to the coronation, a letter of introduction and credit to my favorite local tailor, a promise of a story worth writing songs about, and enough silver to feed him for a year. His eyes had bulged as I placed the silver rods on the table and for once, his laissez-faire attitude slipped. He snatched them away, his gaze panning the room, ensuring no one had seen the magnitude of the exchange. I made a few requests and he happily obliged. My friends all drank their fill and sang along with me. The rest of the nobles noticed and followed suit. For one perfect moment in time, the oh-so-respectable Nobles Cassock was transformed into a much bawdier establishment, passers-by glancing in, wondering if they had inadvertently wandered into topside.


    What none of us realized, was that the division between topside and central would soon be nothing more than a line in the descriptive history of a dead city.

 Chapter 3: Ignis II

    Chapter 3: Ignis II


    Well and truly drunk, I wandered into a toy store. There were various baubles and dolls and paddles with strings tied to rubber balls. None of it was what I was looking for. There was a xylophone. I picked up the small mallet and picked out discordant notes until the shopkeep came up huffing from the back. To my mild relief, he didnt seem to recognize me, other than picking up on the general air of nobility. He was plump and had a pleasant disposition, though I wondered how much of it was calculated.


    Greetings good sir! How may I be of assistance this blessed day? His eyes flicked to the mallet in my hand and back. Has the tone board caught your fancy?


    I shook my head. Sadly, Im shopping for someone else today.


    Little brother then?


    Sister. I wobbled on my feet, and he took my arm to steady me. Once confident I would not tip over, he released my arm and waddled to the more pastel, feminine side of the room.


    How old? He asked, cheery but businesslike.


    Fifteen I paused, I think.


    His hand faltered for a moment, then reached for a decorative silver band with clear rhinestones embedded upon the top. He held it out with a flourish. A tiara for the little princess, perhaps?


    I stiffened, then coughed to hide a laugh. The man had no idea how good his instincts were. The thought of presenting Annette with a fake tiara was tempting, but I was relatively sure shed find it either daft or insulting.


    Alas, she already has one.


    Hm, The man muttered to himself. From there we went through a repetitive dance: he would pick something off the shelf, I would consider it and eventually turn it down. It had never occurred to me how difficult Annette was to shop for. Everything any other girl her age would appreciate all seemed too infantile or silly pictured in her hands.


    This went on for some time and our interaction grew strained.


    The storekeeper brought out a stuffed animal. I sighed and nearly left before giving it a second look. It was a white tiger with black stripes, blue eyes, and a stern stare. It stood out because it didnt seem childish. Nothing like the caricatured spotted dogs with felt tongues lolling out or circus bears popular among children. If not for its size, it could almost pass as a work of taxidermy.


    Ill take it.


    The toymaker let out a breath of relief so large he seemed to deflate, and offered a reasonable price, more to avoid what he likely assumed would be an extensive haggle than out of any sense of fairness.


    I found Annette in the war room. That wasnt its given nameit was more like a pavilion, reallybut since Annette took it over a few years back the nickname stuck. A dozen tables with kossboards were arranged in a parallel line, a single person seated at each of them, all of them deep in thought. Except Annette. She barely seemed to contemplate anything as she walked casually down the line, pausing at each board for less than a second to make a move before continuing to the next.


    The contrast between my sisters always struck me as peculiar. No two siblings are exactly the same, not even twins. But my sisters might as well have been from entirely different continents, let alone families. While Sera was bright and energetic, Annette was taciturn and reserved. Seras emotions blazed white and hot while Annette revealed nothing, her feelings invisible and immutable beneath the ice of her frozen demeanor. Sera had magic and music, while Annette had only her mind.


    But her mind was something else entirely.


    Hello little sister, I said, holding the tiger behind my back. Annette didnt look up, instead walking over to the closest board and leaning over it. The student at the board looked absolutely gobsmacked. It took a moment to recognize him: A baronets son, Tary, who didnt walk so much as strut, as if the very clouds lifted his feet. Id never seen him look so lost.


    Why did I beat you? Annette drummed her fingers on the board. Her voice gave nothing awayif I hadnt grown up with her, I would have no idea the extent of her irritation.


    You havent yet, Tary snapped, trying to regain his usual bluster.


    Oh? Annette demonstrated in seconds the various ways every legal move he had would lead to imminent defeat. Looks like discendente to me.


    Its not my fault youre a freak of nature!


    My hackles rose and I stepped forward, only to be stopped by a single flick of Annettes finger.


    That is why you cannot win, Tary of Fillmont. My sister began to reverse the pieces in order of movement from memory alone. Here. And here. These were your critical mistakes. Simple mistakes a child could avoid. How old are you, Tary?


    Too old to be taking lessons from a teenage hermit princess. Tary huffed backwards and his knee bumped the Koss table, upsetting the board and sending a number of the white and red pieces tumbling to the ground. A black rage came over me, pulsing from the corners of my eyes. How dare he? I had a sudden urge to grab his hair and throw him to the ground. In reality, all I had to do was cough, draw his attention, and hed fill his trousers. But I knew from experience that Annette would hate me for it. She had a thing about fighting her own battles. So I did nothing.


    Too old indeed. Annettes stare was withering, even secondhand. Yet, you lose. Over and over. Tarys hands clenched into fists. The reason you lose, Annette continued, is because youre already resigned to losing. From the beginning. Over and over you tell yourself that the odds are stacked. You give yourself excuses. Whats the point of paying attention when youre up against a freak of nature? Its at that moment where you fail. The rest is nothing more than learned helplessness.


    To my surprise, Tary actually softened at this. His fists unclenched and his fingers flexed. Shame played across his face. How do I convince myself its possible to win when I know for a fact that it is not?


    Whats needed is a change of perspective. Have you read Wirell?


    I dont think so.


    Annette glided over to the bookshelf on the far side of the room, perused it with a far away look, then returned. She held a familiar tome under her arm and I couldnt help but smile.


    I never understood Annette growing up. Sera made sense: a fighter, through and through. Annette was a sponge. She would soak up everything she was taught, be it sewing or etiquette, and be utterly exceptional at it within the year. But everyone wanted her to be the princess Sera never would be. They wanted her to giggle and run through fields with flowers in her hair. They were going to be waiting a long time. Annette never cracked a smile for more than a few seconds, and it was nearly impossible to make her laugh. Shed only ever spoken on the topic once: She said it felt like everyone expected something of her that she didnt know how to give. Everyone but me.


    I never judged her for not emoting or being charismatic enough. At some undefined point she began sneaking into my room at night to study and read. Her presence didnt bother me. After dealing with Sera it was just nice to have a sibling that didnt constantly shout or argue or need to compete. Sometimes Annette would grow too sleepy to keep her eyes open, and on one such an occasion, she asked me to read to her. I picked Fen Wirells Treatise on Combat underhandedly, hoping the dryness of the text would drive her away, or to sleep, or at least make her think twice about asking me to read in the future. It utterly backfired. Id read that book to her at least half a dozen times. Then one day she stopped coming.


    I never knew why.


    Annette flipped the book open and began to quote. If a warrior finds himself in a situation where victory is improbable and retreat is impossible, his goals should shift. Instead of expending ones self attempting to achieve the inconceivable, he should instead look to leave his mark another way. She closed the book and handed to Tary. He took it slowly. What does it mean?


    That even defeat should accomplish something? Tary said, not able to keep the statement from sounding like a question.


    Yes. Annette flashed a rare smile, there and gone instantly. You dont have to win, Tary. You dont even have to come close. All you have to do is make me sweat. Make me wonder, just for a moment. Cripple me so someone else- Annette indicated the other Koss boards. -can come in for the kill.


    Thats not very satisfying. Tary rubbed the back of his neck.


    Perhaps. But a partial victory is better than total defeat.


    Annette finally turned to me. She clasped her arms behind her back and whatever passion had leaked through while she talked of battles and philosophy refroze, leaving her face entirely.


    Mother had, indeed, found something in purple, though in actuality it was closer to plum, ridden with unnecessary ruffles and enough detailed embroidery to give the most gifted seamstress a heart attack. Worse, it had a collar that was both scratchy and tight, making me feel as if my head could burst at any given moment.


    I tried to ignore the bevy of smiles sent my way. It was no secret that most of the kingdom, save a small selection of excessively well-to-do nobles, were desperate for a change. My father ruled with an iron fist and a cold heart. These attributes saw us through the worst of the wars and the rebellions. It was a universal assumption that once those uncertain times were over, my father would change. That he would soften with the absence of external threat. But that never happened. He was still the same warlord who set fire to the villages of his enemies and threw prisoners of war off high balconies. Only the targets had changed.


    Stupid as it sounds, Id actually been feeling somewhat guilty when he approached me an hour earlier.


    An attendant was powdering my face in the preparation room when a hulking seven-foot form stooped through the door and stood behind me, leaned against the wall. I couldnt see his face through the mirror and lights, and he seemed content to stand in shadow.


    Hello Father, I said. The attendant faltered, paused to bow, then resumed his task, much more slowly and carefully than before. King Gils silhouetted form crossed his arms, seeming to make a point out of saying nothing.


    Come to give me any last-minute advice? The secret to ruling? How to select a respectable queen? I instantly regretted the last question. It was dangerous for anyone to be coy with my father, even a prince on his coronation day.


    No response. Nothing but the quiet swish of the attendants brush. My father finally spoke in a deep, bristling baritone. Are you meant to be king of Whitehall? Or some whored out Panthanian pillow-biter?


    My attendant immediately stopped, panic rising in his eyes. My fathers harsh words were jarring, but Id be damned if I let him see it. I gave a meaningful look to the attendant, and he continued, flicking occasional glances into the mirror towards the back of the room, as if preparing to dive aside should Gil the terrible come charging in to bowl me over.


    Much has changed since your coronation, my king. I said, my answering respect to his impropriety dripping with sincerity. Plumbing, for instance. Dragons no longer roam the earth. And there are enough lumen lamps and magical lighting on the great hall stage to make the most sun-kissed Dulen pale as the eldest vampire. I cocked an eyebrow playfully, despite knowing the reception my lightheartedness would receive. If I have the choice between appearing panthanian or vampiric, I must choose the former.


    Why did you allow Thaddeus to send men away from the capital? Today, of all days? My fathers eyes glittered in the dark, practically smoldering.


    He believes the elves-


    Its always the blasted elves! my father exploded, his voice rattling the mirror. Or stone-sucking dwarves, or infernals, or demons. The man is obsessed with the lesser races to the degree that should be considered unhealthy. As if any of them pose even the most passing threat.


    Once upon a time, they did. I pointed out, careful to keep my voice as neutral as possible.


    They did, aye. Then I crushed them. I burned their crops and salted the earth. I caved in the dwarven mines. I rode an Elphion damned dragon through a portal to the infernals domain and set it on fire, then broke the dimension gate on my way out. I executed every elven cultist and their children.


    In a mocking tone, I mentally recited the tirade along with him, it was so oft repeated, but when he reached the end, I couldnt help but cringe. Unlike every other event, Id been there for the last one. Id seen the smoke rise above the villages. Heard the screams and wails of broken families. Mother tried to keep me home but Father had insisted, claiming it would enlighten me to the truth of things. Instead, it had given me nightmares for years.


    Yes. You did, I said evenly, staring back at him. It is not the sort of thing that folk forget. So, it was perhaps with an inexperienced mind that I decided the elves were the kind of threat we should monitor. Seeing as how they might harbor some resentment over, you know, all those pesky dead children.


    The man applying my makeup stopped breathing. Father stood directly behind me, his arm perpendicular to his body, prepared to launch a vicious backhand I knew all too well. My attendant scrambled backwards to escape the fallout.


    Quite a mouth on you, boy. He hissed.


    Please. Go ahead. I turned to him and stood, gesturing at his hand. Strike me. Here, if you would. I pointed to my right eye, coincidentally the last place he had hit when we spoke months ago. Id love to see the strength projected by a bruised and battered king. Good King Gil hesitated, then smiled cruelly. His open hand became a fist and lowered, striking me almost casually in the stomach.


    I lost my lunch and what felt like several gallons of beer.


    As I heaved onto the floor, he leaned down and whispered in my ear. Everything you are, you owe to me. I made you. A peacetime ruler is nothing more than a mummers puppet. Enjoy the strings.


    It was at that moment, staring at the newly grimy floor, that the guilt over what I was about to do disappeared entirely.


    The pageantry of the coronation continued at a glacial pace. The royal family was set to one side of the stage, a small selection of nobles and high-ranking officers on the other. A group of musicians finished their final piece, and I sighed in relief. The music had been stately, on rhythm, and entirely exhausting, never venturing from mathematically tedious baroque traditions.


    Afterwards, Archbishop Celic rose from his seat and made me wish the music had gone on for another hour. With painstakingly extensive detail spoken in the most pious tone, he told the history around the tradition of The Kings Sacrifice. How every monarch that had provided a proper sacrifice had been rewarded with a bountiful rule, and how every king who had not had suffered. Then he proceeded to list them.


    All of them.


    By the end of it, even the pews filled with church electorate, all high-ranking priests and nuns, were a line of glazed eyes and slowly tilting heads.


    To my amusement, Sera was struggling more than most. Her body slumped momentarily only to reawaken with a start, glancing around to check if anyone had witnessed her heresy. Sera wasnt allowed to sit with the rest of us, of course. Because of the magic. Because she was different. I caught her eye.


    Be ready, I mouthed.


    She nodded. No smile. It occurred to me that for once, Sera was likely more nervous than I was.


    Archbishop Celic finally wrapped it up. With shaking hands and a sheen of sweat on his forehead, he took a torch from one of the guards, said a few words in old Uskarian, and lit the pyre in the center of the room. It glowed the usual unearthly green, a side effect of the rare darshall wood used for the ceremony. The queen reached over and squeezed my hand. She had tears in her eyes.


    Im so proud of you, she whispered in my ear.


    Give it time, stepmother. Just give it time.


    I tried not to regret how much this was going to hurt her. Plenty of time for contrition after. Annette watched me intently. There was a slight confusion on her face, as if she was staring at a puzzle and couldnt quite piece out how it all fit together. She was probably wondering why, after our previous conversation, I was still here. Why Id let things go so far. The answer was simple. Annette didnt have all the pieces. Sera was the closest. Id told her more than was wise. Even she didnt know everything. The state of ignorance wouldnt last long. Within the hour, everyone would understand.


    Archbishop Celic approached me, holding the silken black pillow that nested the platinum crown. It was smaller than my fathers, such was the way of things. As a kings list of achievements grew the crown would also, additional pieces of platinum and gems being soldered on. In the royal blacksmiths quarters, there was likely a set of blueprints for how this particular crown might grow. In another world, it might become so elegant and massive it could only be displayed, rather than worn. But even as it was placed upon my brow, I knew the truth.


    I present to you, King Cairn, son of Gil, First of his name!


    This crown would never grow. This crown was stillborn.


    The applause of thousands shook me from my revery as I stood, cloak trailing behind. I embraced my mother and sister, then shook hands with my father. All earlier cruelty was gone from his face, and he wore the face of a proud patriarch. I leaned in to whisper in his ear as he had in mine.


    I know what you did, you old fuck, I said. And for a second there was no response. The sort of person he was, he probably had to go down a list. Then his face went ashen as the proud father imitation slipped into abject horror. For what might have been the first time ever I let the mask slip. There was nothing he could do. We were past the point of no return.


    Now the king will present the sacrifice. The Archbishop extended a shaking hand towards the ceiling, and the crowd applauded again. It was the last time theyd clap for me tonight.


    I approached the edge, overlooking the emerald pyre, and began to speak.

 Chapter 4: Ignis III

    Chapter 4: Ignis III


    I spread my hands out in a warm welcoming gesture, hoping the spike of adrenaline didn''t show. Thank you, everyone, for attending this humble coronation. Transitions of power can be difficult. My dearest father can attest to that personally. There was a scattering of nervous laughter. The lights directed at this spot on the stage were so bright the faces of the crowd had been replaced with barely visible featureless pink circles.


    I cant tell you how convenient it is to have all of you in one place. Still, these events can be trying. What helps me get through is to think of it all as a party: youre made to stand too long, the liquor runs cheap before it runs dry, and some arse prattles on about all manner of things you pretend to care about. I paused for laughter and it came, much less nervous than before. Alas, as much as we would all prefer to get to the fun part, that comes later. There are matters that must be attended to. The circumstance demands it. The sacrifice.


    I mimicked the archbishops tedious vocal tone and his face fell into a scowl. King Seraph bequeathed a golden ring, swearing that he would take no wife while he wore the crown. Whitefall prospered. King Tailien the Wise offered up his dagger, a beautiful piece of Chaya steel, but most importantly, a gift from his long dead grandfather. Whitefall prospered. My father. I gestured to him grandly. In his boundless wisdom, surrendered his conquerors blade, swearing to forgo violence for the sake of peace. And Whitefall prospered. They applauded, likely as much in relief that he was no longer the king as respect.


    And so, in such hallowed company, the choice now comes to me. No small pressure. I had no idea what to choose. At first, I looked through my collection, searching for the object of highest value. But then, our fairest Queen Genevieve, gave me some advice. I indicated my stepmother, and her eyes crinkled in a kindly smile. My dearest mother advised me that fiscal value of the sacrifice was secondary. It needed to be something I cared about deeply. Something that would tear at my heart as I tossed it into the fire. Weeks passed. I meditated, and drank, and searched my very soul until I finally found the answer. Not an it, rather, a who.


    There was a smattering of hushed confusion and the beginnings of alarm. I held my hand out to them kindly. Calm yourselves. No ones getting tossed on the pyre today. Its... metaphorical.


    Still, the nervous energy persisted. I had talked much longer than was proper for this stage in the ceremony, and would talk much longer still. They had begun to sense the hammer in the air, poised to strike down at them.


    I shook my head and clasped my hands together at my waist, attempting to don a penitent air.


    To do this, there are reparations and admissions to be made. I made a mistake. My father and mother would prefer I hide this from you, but that is no way for a king to begin his reign. You see, my lords, my ladies, I committed the unspeakable. Worse than theft. Worse than incestthough, I glance to the left at Baron Argos and his lady wife, both remarkably similar of face, allowing myself to smirk. Some would argue that is not such a sin amongst nobles so much as an inevitability. They didnt laugh that time. Baron Argos puffed himself up and was about to respond, a massive faux pas, but I sprung the trap before he could.


    Worse than murder.


    I turned to my father and, for the first time in my life, allowed him to see the depth of my hatred. His face was closer to purple than red, and his massive hands gripped the bottom of the seat. He would kill me for this, of that there was no question. But I no longer cared.


    I fell in love. That was my sin.


    It was a solemn moment. No one spoke until everyone did, a wave of whispers rushing out so collectively loud they no longer resembled a facsimile of quiet. I saw Annette out of the corner of my eye, hand on her forehead. I couldnt bring myself to look, but I heard my stepmother crying. The anger and the bitterness nearly overwhelmed me then. She may have not had a hand in it directly, but she had certainly condoned it.


    Somehow I reined myself in without lashing out. Instead I searched the crowd for a particular face until I saw him in the back row. I clapped my hands twice. The whispers ceased.


    Bard! I called and waved to him. All eyes turned towards the back where the bard I met in the tavern was sitting, glancing between me and the door, face twisted in terror, contemplating making a run for it. He gave another look towards the guards and seemed to come to the conclusion he wouldnt get very far. He stood, the instrument case dangling off his back.


    The bard cleared his throat delicately. Y-yes, my lord?


    Come. I made a sweeping motion to my left. I require accompaniment.


    Whispers shifted into mutterings of righteous indignation. The bard looked toward the exit one last time, as if bidding a final farewell to a dying friend, then began the long walk down the hall to the stage. He arrived and knelt at my side to open the case. As he unpacked, he spoke, barely loud enough for me to hear.


    Will you be singing? The bard asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling.


    No. Narrating.


    Accompaniment then. Do you have a preferred chord progression?


    Whatever feels appropriate.


    My lord, the bard said through gritted teeth, has anyone ever made you aware of the fact that you are a gaping asshole?


    Bard strumming behind me, I told them her story. In truth, Id brought him up because this was the sort of story I was afraid to tell alone. Thered be far too many moments of quiet and contemplation without the music. It was like trying to tell the story of the sky. Where do you even begin? How do you describe true beauty to those whose very sense of it is counterfeit, derived from the objects they own, calculated from the volume of their treasuries. It is an impossible task. So I could only try, knowing all the while I would inevitably fail.


    I told them the story of Lillian Gray. The words were hard at first. Id been holding them in for the better part of two years. If you were to ask me the beginning of my story, the true beginning of the larger tale Im telling you now, I believe it all started with her.This chapter is updated by


    Lillian found me stumbling down Gretna avenue. It wasnt my best look, staggering and concussed, covered in mud, bleeding like a stuck pig from my forehead. She told me later that the blood had trickled down my forehead and into my left eye, dyeing the sclera a hellish pink. Poor girl thought I had the plague.


    What I actually had was a combination of the ol drunk and disorderly crossed with not looking raggedy enough in topside, which of course resulted in being robbed.


    Who would dare rob a prince, you might ask? Well, this was back before my parents gave up trying to curtail my vices, and therefore getting properly drunk was a laborious sequence of events. I had to buy clothes that could pass me as a commoner, ditch my squire, avoid the guards, convince the cook I made a habit of bedding to let me through the servants entranceusually with promise of seed to be sown later, then put the unknown yet always significant required distance between myself and the castle before my absence was noticed.


    Like I said, it was a process.


    The topside denizen that cut my purse had made a point of kicking my head a few dozen more times than strictly necessary. I found myself wandering through topside in a fish-bowled haze. My head pounded, my memory was hazy, and every time I thought I was heading the correct way, Id find Id walked in a circle instead.


    Ive no memory of speaking to her or even seeing her. All I remember is a set of small hands gently tugging my arm, guiding me through the streets, through countless lefts and rights, supporting me as I stumbled. I remember her voice, a gentle murmur of encouragement that quelled the fear in my gut. My injuries were serious, that was obvious, but I couldnt bring myself to be afraid. The voice would guide me. Somehow I never doubted that.


    The spiraling turns took me deeper into topside until the smell of piss and trash and vomit were overpowered by the spiced scent of freshly brewed medicine. A lopsided sign marked the otherwise unremarkable building: Grays Apothecary, a smiling face carved into the wood next to the more traditionally etched font.


    My head pounded. I wanted lay down and go to sleep. It had not occurred to me how tired I was until that moment and all I could think of was sleep. But it wasnt meant to be. She guided me around the back and took me inside, laid me down, and put a cool cloth on my head.


    It was only then that I saw her. Truly saw her. If you were to see an artists depiction of her you might not think her beautiful. Light of hair, but in practice it was closer to brown from dust and sweat. A button nose that had been broken once, the story told by a horizontal pink stripe of skin marring honeyed brown. More freckles than I could count, and I did try. Deep brown chocolate eyes that held equal depths of kindness and intellect. These are only pieces of the whole, of course. You cannot appreciate the essence of her from merely a picture, you must see that picture in motion.


    I looked out amongst the audience. There were all the expected reactions, outrage, irritation. But to my surprise, though few and far between, there was also sympathy. I could not take comfort in it, however. My sadness had rotted into something much worse.


    I turned to my father, slowly, dramatically. His face was etched from stone. I spent days questioning the tracker. Getting second opinions. Talking to experts about what kind of animal could possibly attack a caravan and leave no trace. It took far too long to realize it was you.


    There was a cry of surprise from the crowd. My father said nothing. He had already decided he was going to kill me. The damage was done. Now he was just biding his time.


    Remember that story you used to tell, father? About how you conquered the lizard men? Let''s see, if I remember correctly: they agreed to surrender if you let their royal family live. You acquiesced, on the condition that they live in capital city as vassals. Then, once their home was occupied and their defenses disarmed you marched that little scaled royal family down the road, just out of view, and slaughtered them. The appearance of mercy was important, you said, so proud of your cleverness. It occurred to me, if youd execute an entire family for daring to defend their home, what would you do to someone who, theoretically, actually posed a threat to your throne?


    You... are a disgrace. My father said.


    I''d rather be a disgrace than your spawn. I snapped back. But that posed a problem. How would I even go about taking revenge? I was stumped. Then the idea came to me. You took away that which I loved most. You cherish your life, certainly, but there is something you love more. I spun the crown between my fingers, smiling madly, before turning back to the crowd.


    But I digress. We were talking about my sacrifice. Obviously, it cannot be Lillian Gray, as thanks to my father, she is gone. So I searched my mind, and my heart, and came to one vital, final revelation.


    I paused then, basking in the tension of the room before delivering the final blow.


    I dont give a shit. I was yelling now. Murmurs of disapproval and anger. Not a single, stinking, dog-squatting shit. I hate my family. I dont care for my sycophantic, sophist, smarm-swallowing friends and sure as hells frigid circles dont give an alley rats ass about any of you. If I have to listen to one more noble whisper sweet nothings in my ear in a vain attempt to forcibly penetrate my good graces I might just throw myself off the sky hold. All your petty little problems. The mountains of flaccid in-fighting and resentment for your peers. Its disgusting. Youre all worth neither my effort nor my time.


    They are your subjects! Your people! Thousands of heads turned as Sera stalked down the aisle towards the dais.


    Thank the gods for you, sister, I was tiring of talking to myself.


    Why are you doing this? Sera asked. She raised her voice slightly, subtly projecting so the auditorium could hear.


    Better question. Why are you? I indicated the crowd, playing up my disgust. They hate you for your magic, though it protects them. Ive heard them call you demi-human spawn. They even joke that a man will never love you more than he will fear you. Why speak up for them at all? There were more than a few looks of guilt in the audience, speaking to the truth of my words.


    My sister surveyed the room slowly, looking magnificently wounded before bowing her head. Rumors and gossip are irrelevant, Cairn. They are my people. I will serve them regardless. She raised her head and stared at me with defiance. But what kind of king can you possibly hope to be if you hate them so? Heads bounce back and forth between the two of us. Out of the corner of my eye, Thaddeus sat up ramrod straight in his seat, shocked mouth reforming into a coy smile. So, he finally figured it out. I could hardly blame him. Sera was giving a downright masterful performance.


    Yes Princess. Why indeed? I cannot stand the sight of them. Their pudgy frames, their slow and prejudiced minds, their poorly managed hygiene. The question struck me as well.


    So? Why should you be king? Sera asked.


    My answer? I should not.


    The crowd roared, hundreds jumping to their feet in outrage. The guards started actively managing the crowd. My mother rushed off the stage, her face in her hands. My fathers hand was on his sword, his body poised, ready to strike me down the second of abdication.


    It was time. I waited until some semblance of order was restored to continue.


    Still, I finally said, it is simpleminded cruelty for a king of Whitefall to refuse the sacrifice. We all know the story of King Hess, who disregarded the sacrifice and brought ruin and famine across the land. If I truly hated you all, I might do just that. But the fact is I do not hate most of you, my lordlings, save a small number I loathe with all my heart. I throw a meaningful glance in the direction of Thaddeus. It would be more accurate to say that I do not think of you at all. So, lacking a better option, Ill dedicate my wish to the one person here I can actually stand.


    It was the idea Id been incubating for nearly two years now, ever since Lillian was taken from me. The masterstroke.


    I grinned like a madman and took the crown off my head.


    Then tossed it into the sacrificial pyre.


    It was consumed instantly. I shouted over the raging crowd, my voice filling the room, and made my wish. The wish so many kings had used for the greater good.


    Mine was not so magnanimous.


    I wish to live! Freely and forever!


    The arch-bishop fainted. Seras mouth dropped. This was the part I''d left out. And finally, the angry roar of the crowd was deafening.


    My father had frozen, his sword halfway out of its sheath. He realized it in time, then. He couldn''t do anything. To kill me would be the same as denouncing the legitimacy of the sacrifice. I''d twisted the rules, wadded up his legacy, and thrown it in his face, all without giving him any legitimate recourse.


    I laughed then, long and hard, my cackling nearly drowned out by the chaos. I didn''t stop until Sera pointed her sword at my throat. The room went silent once more.


    Leave this kingdom. You are not worthy of it.


    I inclined my head to her and hurried to the exit.


    It was halfway to my rooms when I heard them begin to chant her name, and despite myself, smiled.


    It actually worked.


    I had the gall to be pleased with myself. It was pure hubris. Had I looked out the hallway window, I would have seen thousands of shadows flitting through empty streets, descending on the castle itself.

 Chapter 5: Ignis IV

    Chapter 5: Ignis IV


    There were many consequences for my choices that night. Most immediate was the size of my honor guard. When I had left for the coronation, I was flanked by nearly a dozen men. On my return, I was followed by one. That was still one too many.


    Take the night off. I said. We approached my doors, and the last thing I wanted was a guard giving a detailed account of the princes escape to Thaddeus.


    With all due respect my lord, thats not a wise idea. The guard walked backward to talk to me, taking the moment to survey the hallway behind us. His eyes werent erratic, but never stayed in one place for long. It was like he was attempting to make up for the absence of protection by looking everywhere at once. Locks of dark hair hung beneath his helmet, covering golden eyes. He was young for protection detail, possibly a few years younger than me. Yet the combination of his easy posture and subtle intensity betrayed experience.


    Why? I asked, The rest did. My voice came out more bitter than intended. After all, Id just stood in front of the entire kingdom and flipped them the raven. It was hardly the sort of behavior that inspired loyalty. Im not your king.


    You are my prince.


    Tomorrow, I will likely not even be that.


    Then Ill reconsider. Tomorrow.


    Hells take you then. I slammed my bedroom door in his face. Let him stand out there all night and may Elphion smite him. Loyal or not, his presence was throwing a major wrench in my plans. My getaway was contingent on a variety of factors, several of which were now compromised. First step of the plan was pissing off the entire kingdom to the point that no one would want anything to do with me. The second step was getting the hell out with at least an hour lead before anyone knew I was gone. And now my unwanted shadow was impeding both.


    There was an alternate path. I glanced at the window. I strapped the rucksack I had purchased in the market to my shoulders, now teeming full. Immediately, my palms began to tingle and shivers went up and down my arms. I closed my eyes and chided myself. Youve done it before. Just do it again. Carefully, I leaned out. The frigid night air whipped at my ears, the ground far below seeming to shift and ripple. I immediately lost my balance and threw myself backward, falling hard on my ass.


    Shit. That wasnt happening. Not tonight. Endless possibilities and considerations ran through my head. After the coronation there was a feast. Id order the guard to bring me something. He was being difficult because he thought there was a high chance of trouble, not because he thought I was going to run tonight.


    It took some convincing, but he finally agreed, looking at me with a face that seemed a bit too insulted. Im a guard, not a maid, it seemed to say.


    Pillage something for yourself as well, guardsman. This will be a long night.


    With that he seemed to agree, and gave me one last questioning look before trotting off towards the banquet hall. Finally.


    Before I could grab my things, there was a soft knock on the door.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    What? I shoved my rucksack under the bed for the second time, almost shaking from nerves and frustration.


    Cairn. Its me. Seras voice. But she sounded strange. I opened the door and Sera came rushing through.


    I thought youd be drinking your new subjects under the table by now. I said, unable to hide a smirk. But Sera didn''t laugh. She didn''t even smile. It was only then that I realized what she was wearing. Dark garments, covered by a black cloak. Sera shivered like shed just marched through a blizzard, her cheeks and eyes red.


    Sera? Whats-


    Sera rushed forward and wrapped her arms around me, her cloak trailing behind her.


    Brother. Im sorry.


    I never saw the knife that killed me the first time. One moment, Im embracing my sister, wondering if the pressures of the throne have broken her. The next, theres a fire blooming in my gut, ravenous, hungry, consuming my nerves and my every thought, save one: I never really knew Sera at all.


    I shoved her backwards and the blade went with her. Dully, as I pushed against it to staunch the bleeding, it dawned on me that it was far too gaping and open. She twisted the knife. The pain grew unendingly, magnifying, sending waves of agony through my core and up my back. Sera watched through teary eyes, her bottom lip trembling pathetically. Just minutes ago such an expression would have my immediate attention and concern. Now there was only hate.


    Why? I hissed through the horrible haze. The throne is yours. Freely given. Why do this?


    They made me. Sera held herself, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.


    Father?


    No! Sera cut the shout short. She stared down at the ground. Her whole body shook, as if the earth was shaking underneath her.


    Why wasnt she saying anything? My blood roared in my ears, but I cocked my head. It wasnt just my blood. Finally, I heard the screams, punctuated by the sounds of combat and war. I groaned, the horror of it coming into sharp focus. Sera hadnt just played me. Shed played everyone.


    What did you do, Sera? I pushed myself up and leaned against the bed. It was all I could do not to focus on the steady pulse of liquid oozing between my fingers. What did you do? I screamed at her.


    There was no other way! Sera yelled. She shuddered, lowering her voice. Our time is over Cairn. Siladon is done. Its been a long time coming.


    Whos attacking?


    Everyone. The demon-kin, the elves, the dwarves, all of them. Theyve been plotting this for years.


    The magnitude of it floors me. Of course, individually, theyd want revenge. Father had subjugated all of them, held a boot to their necks, killed their friends and loved ones with no reparations. But for them to come together made no sense. As much as wed done to earn their hatred, they hated each other exponentially more. We only had a few hundred years of bad blood. The dwarves and demon-kin had thousands.


    So what? I panted at her, gesturing helplessly in the air. Murder your brother and you get a free pass? The only human left alive in the land of monsters?


    Im not, Cairn. Sera looks at the ground.


    Not free?


    Not human.


    Was she saying the rumors were true?


    Bullshit, I whispered.


    Wealth wasnt the only trophy father took home, Sera said bitterly.


    I''d like to say that I rose to the occasion. Assumed my role as the hero of this story. But the truth is that Alten carried me, sometimes literally.


    Yes, I''d made up my mind to storm the castle, to rescue my sister, free her from the grasps of the evil demons and demi-humans. But my resolve was based almost exclusively on fairytales, and went up in flames as easily as the paper those stories are printed on. Literally, as it seemed the castle itself was on fire.


    Ivory pillars and white stone walls burned under purple flames like kindling, their colors melting from light to a dull corroded iron. The heat was unbearable, rising from the flames in constant visual distortion. Smoke gathered in the high ceilings like billowing storm clouds.


    Alten had not exaggerated. It wasnt so much a battle as a massacre. The bodies of both servants and subjects piled as high as the guards, if not higher, blood strewn across the marbled floor like brush strokes from a manic artist. Most were strangers to me, but every third or fourth body, Id recognize the face of someone I once knew. One of my previous honor guards. A friend Id fallen out with. The cook, who always snuck us something extra on our birthdays, despite our fathers dogged insistence on not celebrating such pointless frivolities. Id grown more and more numb before Alten took me by the arm.


    Dont focus on the faces. Let the dead flow past you like a river, lest you be drowned with them. Alten said, his voice quiet and firm. Hed dropped the my lord and its variants fairly quickly after wed begun our journey. That was fine. I didnt feel much like royalty.


    We were under attack by every race Id ever learned of, and a few I hadnt. I watched small creatures with a striking resemblance to the kind-hearted pixies from fables tear a man apart with nothing more than their teeth, his screams crescendoing octave by octave until finally fading away, most of his flesh shed to the bone. Elves of both light and dark varietyand something in between Id never seen beforeoutfought every opponent with easy agility and fast strikes. Their eyes flashed crimson in the smoke-filled haze, lithe bodies flipping and striking as easily as a child walked.


    Dwarves, making up for stature with number, struck at mens knees and groins to topple them before pulverizing their chest plates and helmets with axes and hammers.


    The infernals were the worst. Purple, red, and blue horned demons that danced around their opponents, mocking and laughing, infernal speech twisting their voices into something that shook the soul as they set everything on fire.


    Still, if I had to pick one person out of the entire massacre Id prefer not to fight, it would be Alten himself.


    An elf flipped away from Alten to create distance. But one didnt distance themselves from Alten without paying a price. Alten leapt forward, smashing the pommel of his sword against the elfs head as it rose. The elf made a decidedly inelegant sound and went down hard, smashing his face into the stone and not getting back up. Two more elves hesitated, before one of them threw a knife. Alten, one-armed and unbalanced from the blow, instead pivoted his entire body and kicked the knife out of the air with a crescent lash of his heel.


    The sword was growing too heavy in my hand again, so I had to improvise. I managed to take advantage of the elves hesitation and grab one around the neck, pulling it to the ground in a blood choke. Dishonorable, my father would have said, but we were past anything resembling honor at this point. Before his fellow could turn and slay me Alten was on him in a blur of motion. The remaining elf, a female, was built for speed and battered at Alten from every angle, constantly dodging into and pressing the attack from his armless side. The elf beneath me made choking noises, his wriggling growing more frantic, every movement sending a shockwave of pain in my gut.


    Altens opponent pushed him back, managing to land several blows against his armor.


    My elf went still. I almost let go, but its head suddenly rotated like an owls until it faced backwards, glowing crimson eyes inches from my face as it smiled at me with pointed teeth that gleamed in the firelight before biting into my shoulder.


    I screamed.


    It flipped up in a blur of feet and grabbed my sword, raising it high in the air with both hands.


    It was over. I closed my eyes.


    There was a sound of a sword impacting flesh. But it was not my flesh. Something warm and thick spattered across my upheld hands. I opened my eyes to see a bleeding stump where the elfs head once was.


    Alten placed a foot on the elfs corpse and shoved it off, then unceremoniously sat down beside me, both of us gasping for air.


    Id mocked him for being the only one of my honor guard to stay. This was the third time hed saved me. The man was worth more than all of them put together.


    They really kicked you out of the silver swords?


    Yeah. He gasped out.


    Idiots. I said. Alten smiled then, and moved over, studying me.


    Come on, nows the fun part. He inspected our surroundings before finding what he was looking for: a relatively clean piece of flaming wood. I groaned, already knowing what was coming.


    The flesh in my shoulder sizzled from the makeshift torch pressed against and I gasped, squinting. No screaming. Much better than last time.


    Are those bite marks? Alten asked incredulously, using the fire to get a better look at my wound.


    You know those mummers tales about the possessed dolls whose heads turn around all the way?


    Yes?


    Well thats basically what happened.


    No shit. He passed me the torch, trying not to smile. I took it from him and he turned, eyeing me carefully.


    You remember-


    Yes, yes, two second intervals. I said. His wounds were on his side, two jagged horizontal slashes beneath his blackened stump of an arm. I cauterized them quickly and carefully. Alten, of course, didnt make a sound. It had seemed excessive to do this with every wound, but the way hed explained it, wed both lost too much blood: him from his arm, and me from my gut. It was unpleasant, but the reality was it served us better to staunch any blood loss as quickly as possible, rather than risk falling unconscious or into shock.


    Alten turned to me and spoke quietly. It feels like were being herded.


    But were still heading the right way. I whispered back, but considered his words. While Alten was a great fighter, he was still just one man. Wed encountered considerably less resistance than some groups Id seen getting completely overrun. Maybe there was something to that. But it begged a question. Why?


    It feels wrong. Just be ready.


    I nodded.


    We moved from room to room stealthily, only getting into minor scuffles that Alten dispatched of quickly. Altens words festered in my mind. This was probably the most direct path from my rooms to the pavilion. It was also a main thoroughfare. Why were there not more enemies?


    The feeling of unease built. I began to hear the ringing in my ears, growing louder and louder. Seras parting words came back to me.


    Shes coming


    A chill went down my spine.

 Chapter 6. Everwood I

    Chapter 6. Everwood I


    Darkness. Unending soundless blackness. There was no sense of sight, or smells, or sound. Just a sense of floating in nothingness for what felt like forever.


    I did not, however, feel alone.


    There was a sensation of movement in the void. Things towering over me, whispering. A sibilant chattering of broken teeth. I remember wondering if the place was death. If the stories and legends were wrong. If all that waited for us was this horrible nothingness, in which we were not truly alone.


    I was afraid.


    Afraid to the point I wondered if, before, I had ever truly known what fear was.


    Something caressed my very existence, then grabbed hold.


    What followed was the sensation of flying through the void at an incredible speed. I was yanked backwards, my being stretching from the strain until it felt my very essence could snap at any moment. Then light returned. I saw flashes of my old life. Vignettes played backward. My father. Annette. Sera. My mothermy real mother, alive and smiling.


    Lillian.


    The light grew unbearably bright, whiting out all semblance of images and memory. It pierced me over and over, like so many flaming swords. A single word was seared into my soul with an unholy green light.


    Again.


    Someone grabbed me.


    "Cairn. Kid. Kid!"


    I came to with fists swinging, clawing wildly at the hands that gripped me, Thoths terrifying visage still vivid in my mind. Get away. Have to get away. I slipped beneath my attackers arms and threw myself against the door, throwing it open to-


    Trees? A forest, tall and wide as the eye could see. A hand grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and threw me back in.


    It took a moment for the fog of panic to clear. Uncle Luthers concerned face stared at me. He had gotten on top of me and was pinning my wrists against the seat cushions. There was a sense of movement and the occasional bump. A carriage. I was in a carriage.


    What the hell?


    "You were dreaming." Luther quickly released me and returned to the opposing side. The red satin cushions crumpled beneath him, and the whole weight of the chamber seemed to shift his way. He was fully armored. My whole body seemed to deflate as the importance of those words sunk in.


    "It was awful." I raised a hand to place it against my pounding head. But it was not my hand. It was so small. There was practically no hair on my arm whatsoever. I froze in place, having played the last few moments back in my head and noticing another problem. "Terrible," I said, experimentally, almost choking at the pitch of my own voice. It was higher than before. Then it hit me.


    "Annette! What happened to Annette?" I stood up, my heart racing. Uncle stood with me and bumped his head against the ceiling, knees braced, as if ready to grab me if I tried to dive out of a moving carriage again.


    "Shes still at the castle with your sister and mother, kid. Damn, that dream really did a number on you." Uncle sat back down and crossed his legs, looking away guiltily. "Cant blame you, though. After everything you saw today."


    His words finally registered. Annette was fine. But how could that be? Id witnessed it. She was clearly dead. Even if she wasnt, there was no recovering from those injuries. Another strange notion occurred to me. When was the last time Id seen Uncle Luther this sober? He was oddly put together. Almost knightly. There was no seething judgement hidden behind his expression. He looked almost shockingly normal.


    Clearly, I was missing something. I sat back down.This chapter is updated by


    Uncle Luther continued to speak. "Kid, I want you to know. The things you saw today. The things I did thats not usually how we do business. That village was a real problem. The elves had to be put in their place sure, but the children?"


    I looked up at him, shock coursing through me. Id had this conversation before, nearly ten years ago. The only reason I remembered it was because of how angry Id gotten. It was after the sacking of the elven village of Inharion. Elven cultists. Theyd been killing tax collectors and burying their bodies in the Everwood. Once the murders came to light my father put together a raiding party disguised as an envoy and brought me along. Said I needed to see the law in action, as well as the consequences of disobedience. From a distance, Id watched as the raiding party slaughtered the entire village, led by my uncle.


    My heart pounded in my throat. "Uncle-"


    The ringing in my ears came back. My eyes went wide. Cold chills went up and down my arms. I doubled over in my seat. How? It didnt make sense. Luther was on his knees before me in an instant.


    "Cairn. Whats wrong?"


    All the memories of past wounds came back to me at once as the ringing in my ears grew louder and louder. The hole in my stomach. The burns on my chest and hands. The knife in my lung. Annette, broken in my arms.


    "Whats wrong, boy? Whats happening?" Uncle shook me vehemently.


    "Shes coming," I whispered.


    "Whos coming?"


    "Thoth." The moment I said her name, the carriage ground to a halt. Luther looked up, clearly unsettled. Several wagons up, I heard a guard call out.


    "Who goes there?!"


    There was a cacophony of heavy footsteps moving towards the front of the line and blades being drawn.


    No. No no no.


    Luther, still holding my shoulders, looked out of the carriage, then back at me. "Stay here."


    I grabbed his arm. "You cannot beat her, Uncle. When the fighting starts in earnest, run."


    He gave me a strange look. And then he was gone, leaping out of the carriage and running to join the rest of the men at the front. My whole body fought as I followed, slowly. It was so far from the carriage door to the ground. The forest, previously filled with the sound of calling birds, had gone silent.


    "Oh Cairn, where are you?" The sing-song voice sent a wave of revulsion through me and I choked back a sudden surge of acid rising from my gut. All my half-baked plans went out the window like nothing more than a flight of fancy. So much for a second chance to do things right and plan.


    Thoth was already here.


    Suffer, as I have suffered.


    There was no question what shed do if she found me. When she found me. I climbed up and snuck a peek over the top of the carriage. Thoth was there. She looked younger, but otherwise just as terrifying. She was flanked by the man in the cowl and the giant, but otherwise alone. A thought occurred to me. She hadnt raised her army yet.


    Still, I had a feeling that the three of them would be more than enough to destroy the small retinue that accompanied me.


    "If you make me look for you, it will only make things worse." Thoth called out over the formation of guards that attempted to engage with her, ignoring them entirely. She scanned the caravan and almost saw me before I ducked back down behind the carriage. Id already learned from my first encounter. There was no reasoning with Thoth. No fighting her. There was only one logical course of action.


    Run.


    Left or right? Did it matter? Both sides of the road were thick with forest.


    For just a second, I saw a glimpse of something on my left side, partially obscured behind a tree. It looked like a silver hand, beckoning. A sign from the gods, perhaps. Whatever it was, it was enough.


    I sprinted left, away from the caravan into the deep dark of the Everwood.

 Chapter 7: Everwood II

    Chapter 7: Everwood II


    In the distance the sounds of battle grew fainter until they were almost inaudible. I ran, tripping over roots and ducking under low branches. At first there was a sense of confidence. Id played in these woods much of my early life. Not this particular section, sure, but many days of my childhood had been spent marching bravely out into the great green unknown, pretending to be a knight on a quest for the kingdom, looking for the seer stone or other such nonsense.


    Child or not, I wasnt an idiot about it. Id always brought supplies and chalk to mark the trees, thus, always been able to find my way out. Id never been lost in the Everwood, not even once. The most threatening creature Id found had been a small boar.


    Of course, this logic was flawed. The sections of forest that encroached upon the capital city were heavily patrolled. The forest seemed safe to me only because there was a group of rangersall veterans and battle-hardenedwho spent their lives and sometimes lost them pushing the monsters of the wood away from the capital and into the deep recesses of the wood. The deep recesses where I now wandered.


    The immediate issue, however, was unlike my childhood adventures, I didnt have any chalk to mark my path. My initial plan was to move in a large half-circle. Venturing far out into the forest, looping around, eventually coming back a mile or so further down the road. Once I found the road again, Id follow it from the cover of the Everwood back to civilization.


    It was a plan born out of panic and adrenaline, and as with any such plans, there were a few problems. Firstly, I had no idea how far from the capital city I was. Secondly, the road to the capital... was gone. I was certain Id circled around correctly and had walked in a straight line for miles. No road.


    The biggest problem by far was that something was following me. Some part of me would almost chalk it up to paranoia. I was walking for miles in a forest, after all. There was a constant chatter of strange and unknowable sounds. Insects chirped and called. The occasional wolf would howl. There was, infrequently, a crash of something much larger, usually accompanied by a yowl of bestial pain. All told, it was enough noise to reasonably assume my mind was playing tricks on me and I was looking for patterns where there were none.


    It was always when I was on the verge of accepting this notion when a twig snapped behind me. A bush rustled. Worst of all was the low, sharp, intake of breath that sounded mere meters away.


    I unsheathed my sword. It was barely more than a toothpick, gifted to me on my tenth birthday. If what was out there was anything bigger than a small dog, I was doomed.


    With all the turning around to search for my unseen stalker, it became harder to be sure I was heading in the right direction. I didnt dare double back. Thing in the shadows aside, the possibility that Thoth and her allies had already dispatched my group and were currently combing the forest looking for me was simply too high.


    But for all I knew, I was heading backwards. It was impossible to tell what time it was or how long Id been walking. Thick trees above cloaked the sun entirely, a perfect canopy that let in only the smallest fragment of light.This chapter is updated by


    I trudged on. My arm began to grow tired from holding the sword. Slowly, my mind began to wander back to the greater situation at hand. Id watched my father die. Watched Annette die. Id yet to truly lay eyes on either of them, but unless my uncle was somehow in on it I had to believe they were alive now. They were dead and now they werent. If nothing else had changed, time had simply shifted backwards


    My mother is alive.


    My real mother. I stopped walking, completely gobsmacked. My mother died of a wasting illness a month after my eighteenth birthday. The physicians hadnt been able to do anything because they hadnt caught it early enough. But I could.


    And Lillian. Lillian would be working at Grays apothecary. Even in a situation this dire, the thought brought a smile to my face. Which was then immediately dashed as the memory of Thoths savage visage came back to mind. It didnt matter if I saved anyone temporarily, if Thoth slaughtered them all in the end. Worse, judging from the last few hours she was completely unpredictable. I couldnt expect for things to unfold the same way. It begged the question. Why had she come looking for me so early this time? Was she-


    A black blur of growling mass leapt at my face, obscuring my entire vision in an instant. I didnt dodge so much as fall on my ass, scrambling backwards, trying to create distance. The thing stalked around me, lithe and dangerous. Its fur was dark as night, and its eyes glowed golden in the gloom. Shadow Panther. A small one, but deadly nonetheless.


    I puffed myself up and stretched my arms out in an attempt to look bigger than I was. The panther just purred, continuing to move closer, entirely unimpressed. I swore.


    If Id been the size of a full-grown man, scaring it off might have worked. But this was a childs body. The panther pounced. I jerked to the side, dodging wildly, my reflexes and muscle memory all feeling foreign and off. It circled to the side and I tracked it with the point of my blade. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead. This was not good. Killing it was likely beyond me. Even if I somehow managed to escape, this beast would continue tracking me through the forest as it had before. Somehow I needed to show it that I was more trouble than I was worth.


    Stepping carefully, I bent down to scoop up a fallen branch while maintaining eye contact. It lunged towards me in a false start, baring white fangs speckled with red. This was not its first hunt of the day. Maybe that would work in my favor. I waited. It finally stopped moving, its shoulders hunching together, preparing to pounce.


    Then, with all the power I could muster, I flung the branch at its head. The panther flinched back. Its face scrunched up almost comically. Then a deep, angry growl resonated from its throat.


    Well. Shit.


    It slammed into me, claws digging into my chest and sternum. I made a sound that was entirely un-princely as my back hit the forest dirt. My sword clattered to the side somewhere unseen. It snapped at me viciously, held back only by my small hands around its neck. But this body was weak. The panther leaned forward, snapping, pushing its body face closer.


    Chills ran down my spine and I dropped the stick. That had not been my imagination. Something else was in this forest with me and it wasnt an animal.


    Betraaaaaaaaayer


    The whisper picked up into a howl. Louder and louder the voices grew, prickling at me. Cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.


    "Come on. Come on." I twisted the sticks until they snapped. The voices in the wind cackled at me in delight.


    Only one thing left to try, and I had no idea if it would work. I held both hands to the wood, closed my eyes, and tried to will the purple flame from earlier into the kindling.


    Nothing.


    I tried again. Visualizing the flame this time.


    Nothing.


    A small animal nipped at my leg and I kicked it away. What was I missing? Maybe...


    As much as I hated myself for it, I held out my hand, first, second, and third fingers forming a triangle. No feeling of power. No light. No fire.


    I dug deep into my mind. How exactly did I feel when Id summoned the fire the first time? How did I feel when the panther was on me? I stared the memory full in the face, letting it wash over me until I finally found it.


    Despair.


    A single pinprick of violet light floated in the center of my outstretched fingers, so tiny it looked like the smallest breeze could snuff it out. I cupped my other hand around it to shield it from the wind and oh-so-slowly held it to the kindling.


    The flame roared to life, almost blinding. I fell backwards, shielding my face with my arm. There was a chorus of agitated sounds as creatures scurried away. Even the whispering wind seemed to scream. It was far too hot around the fire to rest comfortably but in the context of what had just happened, that didnt seem to matter. I curled with my back to it, adoring and loathing it all the same, and promptly fell asleep.


    The second day was easier. I found two oblong rocks of similar size and used them to grind the sanitizing herbs until they resembled a powder, then cleaned and treated my wounds from the panther. I ran across a fast-moving brook that I used to fill my flask and drank from heavily. The water cramped my stomach but at that point it was a small price to pay. I found a cluster of mushrooms with orange stripes that I knew to be edible. They helped fend off the hunger, but not by much.


    The second source of water I found was a small pond. I nearly raced towards it, only noticing just in time one of the giant trees wasn''t a tree. It looked like a huge elk from far away, but somehow felt wrong. Better not to risk it and stick with the stream.


    Twice, I ran into creatures that posed a threat. Another panther and some sort of giant lizard the size of a dog. Both times I managed to summon demon-fire and light the makeshift torch I carried, frightening them off. I tried not to think of the implications.


    When Seras talent was first discovered, my father had called in a litany of so-called magical experts to test the rest of us, as magicwhile rarehas a much higher chance to show up along the same genetic line. Annette and I were tested for every magic sensitivity under the sun, but at the end of the day there was nothing to show for it. From my shallow understanding, elemental magic was something you had to be born with. No amount of tinkering or blessings from the church or potions would give you power. Magic could not be gifted. If it could, everyone would have it.


    So, why was this happening now?


    Feeling terrible but slightly more confident, I packed up my things, along with my growing collection of herbs, and followed the brook downstream. Dusk fell uneventfully. I went to sleep the second night with a cramping belly full of foul water and mushrooms, endless questions plaguing my mind.


    When I awoke, there was a feeling in my stomach that something was wrong. I looked up. A shadowy figure spun my sword in his hand idly. His face was hooded, hiding everything but his tightly skinned mouth. He smiled a charming smile. "Found you."

 Chapter 8. Everwood III

    Chapter 8. Everwood III


    I initially panicked, thinking this hooded person and the cowled man at Thoths side were the same person. On further inspection they were clearly distinct. This man was much wider, though that might be attributed to his billowing robe. He also lacked the gravity and presence of the other cowled man.


    "Tell me child, how does a magician come to be lost in the Everwood?" His voice modulated. It was almost genderless, one moment seeming male, then next female. I shuffled backwards, hair on my neck raising as the words cut through my sleep-addled mind and registered. He knew. How did he know?


    I considered running, but the stranger still held my sword in his hand, my only weapon in this gods-forsaken place.


    Im not a magic-user, I finally said.


    He let the silence hang between us awkwardly, only cocking his head at my words, his gaze slowly panning from me to the still burning violet flame. I mentally kicked myself for my poorly thought actions over the previous days. Using the demon-fire so freely was moronic. It was justifiable the first night; I was under siege in an unfamiliar place and didnt know what I was doing. Using it every night after was a mistake. If the man followed me even for the last day, he would know unequivocally what I was.


    "Its just a minor talent," I said.


    "I see. But you still havent answered my question, child."


    I am Prince Cairn. My escort was attacked.


    The words died in my throat before they were given a voice. Noble status was a double-edged sword. Throwing a title around in the correct situation achieves much. But at that moment I was incredibly vulnerable. Announcing myself as a prince to random denizens of the wood seemed an excellent way to be taken hostage. I considered my next words carefully.


    "My name is Cairn. Im apprenticed to my father, a traveling apothecary. We were on route to the capital when bandits attacked and were separated."


    The man clapped his gloved hands together suddenly with a muted thump. "A magician and an apothecary?" He looked around my campsite, gaze settling on the bound herbs. "What wonderful luck!"


    I regretted my choice only for a moment before the significance of this statement struck me. "Are you in need of an apothecary sir?" I cringed slightly. It was truly difficult to discern the persons gender.


    The stranger took it in stride. "Sir is fine, child. Sir Barion." He sighed. "And that I am. Living in the Everwood is an eternal ordeal. I am constantly running out of poultices and salves. And the little monsters in the closest village dont like to share." Inharion. He was talking about the elves.


    I pressed the advantage. "If you help return me to the capital, kind sir, my father will happily provide you with all the aid you might need as a reward. And then some." It wasnt a total lie. My father would provide him aid. It would just be from the royal chemist, rather than an apothecary. In actualitya much better deal than I was offering.


    The man threw his hood back and eyed me critically. He was entirely hairless, including eyebrows. His skin was albino-white. The nose of his face was almost feminine, while his lips were wide and bloodless. "I wasnt born yesterday, child. Whats to stop you from scampering off the moment we reach the capital? Not to mention its quite a long journey."


    I crossed my arms, my honor impugned. "What sort of wretch would dare treat their savior so poorly?"


    "Youd be surprised then." The stranger said dryly. He stood, brushing off the seat of his pants and pulled his hood back over his head. "Still, I have a proposition for you child. I am a researcher. A man of science. But my lack of knowledge in your field rankles the mind. Come to my home. Show me your craft. Instruct me on how to make my own poultices and where to find the ingredients."


    I held my hands palms out and forced a smile. "You honor me. But I am but a lowly apprentice of little talent. My father is the true practitioner."


    He looked at the ground herbs again and my makeshift mortar and pestle, then back up to the bandage that I had sewn for myself out of plant fiber. I flushed.


    "Nothing wrong with a little humility, child, but assign credit where credit is due. Ill feed you and provide you shelter. After a few weeks, Ill charter an escort from Ironhenge and pay for it myself to return you to your father."


    Well, it was too much to hope the man would just grab a knapsack on a stick and skip down to the capital with me. I didnt trust him, exactly, but he seemed well-educated and intelligent. There was a chance he was dangerous, sure. Id be a fool to trust a random altruistic stranger in the Everwood.


    But the Everwood itself was a death trap, and my rescuer wasnt altruistic, really. I knew what he wanted. It was a mutually beneficial proposal, something I was much more familiar with. From my experience in the royal court, it was far more dangerous to trust an ally with unknown intentions than a neutral party with clear goals. I pretended to think it over, then nodded.


    "Not me. What I understand that they do not, is the value of giving back to the earth. Sacrifice. Thus, I use only the best fertilizer for my plants."


    I pushed my plate away, leaning back, hand on my full stomach. "For a man of science, that sounds almost"


    "Mystical?"


    "Well yes." For the first time, I noticed there was a third plate and set of utensils set out at the end of the table. "Sir Barion, is someone else joining us?"


    He sighed. "Most likely not. My assistant buries herself in her work these days. Shes going through something of a rebellious phase, you see." I was relieved at that. Something about the strange hairless man having an assistant made him less intimidating. "Shes a little older than you. How old are you?"


    "Twelve."


    "Two years older, then. Youll be teaching us both to identify the necessary ingredients and prepare them."


    "Speaking of which"


    We went on to discuss the sorts of things Barion would need. I was comforted when he didnt ask for anything questionable. In fact, everything he requested was some sort of palliative: burn salve, disinfectant, numbing agents, the sort of things that healed colds and bronchial infections. The sort of things a chemist would want on hand in case of an accident. I silently thanked Lillian for being so thorough in her teachings. Never had the knowledge been so crucial to me.


    Day gave way to night quickly. There was no sign of Sir Barions assistant, but when asked he seemed confident in her ability to take care of herself. I was beset by yawning far before the sun had set, and by dusk I was nearly asleep on my feet. Sir Barion introduced me to my quarters. They were cramped, consisting of just a small bed, dresser, and closet, but compared to my prehistoric accommodations in the Everwood, it felt like an untenable luxury. My host bade me farewell and I collapsed on the bed and greeted sleep, warm and grateful.


    Sleep was not kind. Surviving the Everwood kept my mind occupied with a uniform obsession. Every waking moment spent with iron focus on surviving and attempting to navigate, every night filled with a fatigue so total it was impossible to focus on anything else.


    Now safe, my mind went back to the invasion, replaying the horror and violence again and again, terror growing with each repetition. I woke up in tears, hand clutched to my chest, cursing the useless fear and wanting nothing more than to fall asleep. It happened twice more that night before I finally fell into a fitful, uneasy nothingness.


    The dreams haunted me, filled with visions of my enemies. Sharp-toothed elves. Thoths gloating hatred. The infernal who murdered my sister. Her tribal face-paint and devil horns and milky white eyes. She shook me violently with both hands. "Boy?" the infernal said, her accent thick.


    I slammed down on where her forearms met her elbows and broke her hold.


    It was all too cogent in my mind how quickly she could cast her magic.


    I grabbed her and pulled her over my body. A shriek of surprise died in her throat as her head hit the wall. Too slow. I was moving too slow. She thrashed and I leapt atop her. The others could be on me at any moment. Her hand went out, fingers splayed.


    Not this time.


    I slapped it away in a rage, managing to pin both her hands above her head. She opened her mouth to shout for help and I clamped my hand over it just in time. She still struggled against my grip. She was stronger than me but right now, I had the advantage. Quickly removing my hand from her mouth I placed it on her throat and began to squeeze. Her eyes bulged. She struggled more violently now, clawing my arms and hands, her dark claws leaving lines of blood. I tightened my grip, put my full weight behind it. Her struggling grew weaker and weaker.


    "Why didnt you just leave it?" I whispered angrily. "Why couldnt you just leave me be?"


    The cold tip of a needle brushed my throat. "Thats quite enough, child."


    Barion.


    Only then did I realize that this was not a dream.

 Chapter 9. Everwood IV

    Chapter 9. Everwood IV


    The infernal squirmed out from under me as I released my hands and slowly sat up. She bolted to the furthest end of the room behind Barion, hacking and coughing pathetically. It was only when I saw both of them side by side that I noticed how small she was. The terrifying demon from my dreams looked like nothing more than a child. My hands and arms stung where she scratched me.


    Sir Barion removed the point of his rapier from my neck, still holding it at his side, watching me warily.


    It wasnt a dream. It was real. I clenched my fists and unclenched them, over and over, nothing to do with my seething hatred. "What in the hells is that thing doing here?"


    The infernal glared at me, her breathing normalizing, hand still held to her bruising throat.


    "Now now," Sir Barion clucked his tongue. "This is my assistant, Maya."


    "Shes a killer." I said immediately.


    "Child, I understand there might not be many infernals where you come from, but they are not all monsters. Maya here is one of the good ones." Barion patted her head. The infernal looked away, tight-lipped. "Maya, this is Cairn." He said, trying to introduce us and diffuse the tension.


    I couldnt bring myself to be polite. It was her. It was absolutely her. The memory ran on a savage loop through my mind. She might have been smaller and younger, but this was the same person. Even if I wasnt completely sure of the facewhich I wasthe dark hair, spiral horns, and light facial marks were all identical, minus a few scars.


    Barions head swiveled between us and he sighed. "Very well. I apologize to the both of you. This was my fault." We broke off the staring match to look at him. "Maya," Barion continued in the voice adults use to distract children, "Cairn is able to summon demon-fire."


    "Impossible," Maya croaked. She studied me more carefully. "He doesnt have a drop of infernal blood."


    "Yet you have quite a few drops of mine," I snapped at her, knowing the statement was irrational. What was she supposed to do, let me strangle her?


    "My thoughts as well." Barion cut in quickly before Maya could respond. "Still, I saw the fire myself. Purple as an overripe eggplant and hotter than a forge fire. Cairn has understandably been a bit cagey with the details but given the nature of our research I could not resist. I was curious how my new young friend would react to you."


    "Not well." Maya said, eyes cast downward.


    I was furious. Furious at Barion for screwing with me at the earliest possible opportunity and furious at the girl for looking so damn pathetic. She was monstrous, I tried to remind myself, but Maya looked less and less like a monster the longer I looked. She looked like a child. A terrified child.


    "To be fair, had I thought your reaction would be so explosive, I would have warned you yesterday," Barion said, angering me further. He reminded me of my stepmother in that moment, always finding a way to blame her mistakes on me.


    "Sir Barion," I said, voice suffused with fury, "with your permission, I would like to begin scouting around your home for the ingredients we need."


    So I can get the hells away from here as soon as possible. Barion made a sweeping gesture and stepped aside.


    I stormed out, not sparing a glance for the girl who still coughed weakly, despising what I felt.


    There was nothing to feel guilty about.


    In something of a callback, I ate mushrooms for breakfast. It hadnt occurred to me until after I stormed out of the house that I had not eaten, and by then my pride wouldnt let me return. My shoestring defiance might have been more satisfying if I was not being followed. An hour ago, I would have thought it impossible that someone was clumsier in the wood than me. Yet, Maya managed to step on every twig as if they were drawn to her feet. At first, I was alarmed. Then it became obvious she was somehow more scared of me than I was of her.


    I scraped some arrow wart fungus off a slumped willow stump, adding it to my bag. I checked the contents. It was over three-quarters full. At some point Id need to go back to the house and drop it off.


    Snap. Another twig.


    "What exactly are you doing?" I asked coldly.


    "Master Barion asked me to accompany you." Maya said, her accented voice muffled from behind a nearby oak. "I was told to write down everything you said."


    "Go jump off a cliff," I snapped out, despite myself. There was a scribbling noise of pencil on paper.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))


    "Really?" I groaned.


    More scribbling. Aggressive scribbling.


    "Fine! If you must follow, then follow. Stop skulking behind trees." I waited for the scribbling again, my teeth set. It didnt come. Maya stepped out into the open, body language pulled inward, head down. From beneath her jaw, I saw traces of my handprint beginning to purple into a nasty bruise.


    No. I would not be taken in by this game, whatever it was, I would not feel guilty for a cold-blooded murderer.


    But what if thats not who she is yet?


    The unwanted thought plied at me. I hesitated.


    "What is it?" Maya asked. The "what" sounded like "vat." Her tail twitched from side to side nervously, low to the ground.


    "As long as you dont set me on fire, were good."


    "As you wish."


    I fell into myself, looking for the pieces of emotion I would need. It was easier in the forest, under constant threat, because so many elements of it were bubbling under the surface. Fear and desperation were easily in reach, the darker elements beyond all I had to manufacture. Now I needed to construct all of them simultaneously.


    A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead. It never took this long before. But Barion was an excellent audience. He did not prod or goad me, simply watched, his light blue eyes detached and analytical.


    It took another five minutes before I found it. The claw clutched at my soul once more, threatening to crumple it to dust. I reached out with my hand palm up, fingers aligned in a triangle. The purple spark manifested, immediately radiating warmth.


    "Spectacular." Barion breathed in sharply. "Without uttering a single word or incantation. Youve had no instruction, then?" His statement confused me. The only other magic user I had seennever chanted or even spoke when she used her magic. It simply manifested.


    "No. It usually doesnt take that long," I mused. Barion started at that, looking away from the violet spark for the first time to stare at me. I explained the difference between casting in the safety of the house and the Everwood. He blinked, then ran somewhere out of view and returned with a notebook that was more of a tome, and set it down with a heavy thump. He wrote furiously into it for a few moments. "I knew it. Those bastards laughed at me. I knew there had to be an emotional component. Whos wasting their time now? Bastards," He muttered to himself.


    "I take it your research is related to magic."


    "And the manifestation of it, yes," he said, his attention still entirely on his notes.


    I noticed, idly, that I still easily held the purple spark. This was by far the longest I had maintained it. The spark was steady, floating between my fingers, not seeming to flicker or dim or brighten. A thought occurred.


    "Why dont I get tired? I met a spell caster beforemy father did some work for a traveling elementalist," I interjected the lie quickly, naming the garden variety line of magicians that even a supposed commoner like me might have met before he could ask where Id met someone so rare, "And she ordered a pharmacy worth of potions to help with endurance."


    "It depends-" Barion finished jotting a sentence and placed a period with a self-satisfied flourish before setting the pen down, "-on the magic in question. Amongst the many varieties of magicians, a traveling elementalist is a bad example, essentially the ugly plough horse of the lot." His lip curled, letting me know exactly how well he thought of them. "It takes a particularly talented person to make magic seem boring. Their magic is strictly related to earth or water elements with no crossover between. Building levees and purifying water sources involve low sophistication magic in massive quantities, so the mana involved is actually very low. The physical stamina required, however, is probably massive. Just throwing a number out, perhaps ten percent of what it would take to physically do the work. Theyre simply inefficient."


    "I take it you dont like them much.


    "I dont dislike them, rather, I simply prefer not to entertain the idea of their existence. You though, child," He indicated the spark in my hand, "Have been holding a catalyst in your hands with massive destructive potential, capable of burning this cottage and half the forest down. What does that tell you?" Barion asked, in the sort of tone my tutors often used.


    "Its efficient?" I guessed lamely, then put more thought into it. "Or theres some differentiator between initial power and potential power." In other words, the demon fire was powerful because its form was powerful, not because I was particularly talented.


    "Correct." Barion sounded pleased. "You do not have to pay for what the spell could be, only what it is."


    "I see." With some trepidation, I reached forward and placed my spark against the wood in the bowl. There was a shimmering reflectiveness to the wood, as if it was soaked in something. It caught fire, raising the immediate temperature in the room by a few degrees, but was not consumed in seconds as Id expected.


    "Beautiful." Barion gazed into the flame.


    Since we were sharing, I figured it couldnt hurt to ask. "Are you a practitioner yourself, Sir Barion?"


    Barion shook his head. "Despite my many, many attempts to rectify that particular shortcoming, my expertise is purely academic. I have no talent for it myself. Though its my field of study, youre actually only the second person with some ability that Ive met."


    "Who is the first?" I asked, thinking I might know the answer already.


    "Maya," Barion said. My hands clenched into fists. Of course.


    He continued. "She has some talent for healing magic, but like your talent, it is limited and untrained."


    Strange. So, she hadnt lied to me. Or was just keeping her cards extremely close to the chest.


    "How did you slow the burn?" I asked.


    "Oh." Barion raised a playful eyebrow, "Do I have the rare opportunity to teach the master alchemist something he does not know?"


    "Apothecary," I grumbled. My knowledge extended to healing and curatives for ailments. Alchemists knew everything about everything. And they were smug about it too. "Apprentice, for that matter."


    "Dont sulk." Barion held his hand above the flame for a moment only to yank it back, wringing it painfully. "Its not dissimilar to rosewater, but with oil as the base. Rosewater itself being the one thing that could put out demon flame, other than simply starving it of oxygen and praying you kill it before it kills you. When you use oil, it allows the fire to still burn due to the oxidization"


    The rest of his words faded away into a dull murmur. I stared into the fire, my mind fixated on the earlier statement. Rosewater extinguishes demon-flame. If only I had known back then. But even if I had, would it have made a difference? It wasnt exactly something we kept around the castle. What was I supposed to do? Carry around a jug, like the one I brought in from the river and could barely lift, filled with rosewater instead? How could I possibly prepare for every possibility when a monster from the pit of the deepest hell could show up at any time and start slaughtering people I care about. I stared at the flame. I hated it. Hated everything about it. I wanted it gone.


    The flame disappeared. It didnt die out, didnt fade away. It disappeared.


    What?


    There was a shuffling as Barion stood to his feet and hurried over to the jade cup, studying it in confusion. Slowly, his head turned to me. Out of my peripheral vision I saw someone looking through the window. Maya. A range of emotions warred across her face. Most prominent, though, was anger. Then she disappeared.


    "How?" He asked. There was a forced neutrality to his voice I wasnt sure I liked.


    I said the only thing I could think of. The truth.


    "I dont know."

 Chapter 10. Everwood V

    Chapter 10. Everwood V


    It was halfway through the second week that everything went to hell. I covered much ground over the prior ten days, teaching Barion and Maya how to produce the various poultices and salves. While Barion seemed to only grow happier with methough his requests for increased production were endlessMaya grew more and more sullen, to the point it made me actively uncomfortable. The thought began to percolate that Maya might be concerned with the possibility I was attempting to steal her role as Barions assistant. So whenever possible while she was in earshot, I would comment on how excited I was to be returning to the capital and my fathers side.


    Somehow that only made things worse, her demeanor growing stonier, the dark cloud that followed her billowing and full. Eventually, she stopped accompanying me on my daily outings altogether. I said nothing to Barion. Frankly, it was a relief.


    And its not like it mattered what she thought of me, regardless.


    It was a particularly chill morning, one of those late Winterscrest days that carried with it the promise of a much colder night to come. I was trying to restore warmth to my hands, rubbing them together and breathing into them when there was a knock on my door. Maya stood there, a blank look on her facedownright hospitable compared to her recent mannerand held out an envelope, around the size and length of a standard letter.


    "Whats this?" I asked.


    "Doesnt matter. Master Barion instructed me to have you bring it to him."


    "Okay." On second thought, I threw on an additional robe, not looking forward to going out in the cold. "Where is he?"


    Maya chewed her lip, then crossed her arms and looked away. The once florid bruise across her throat had faded to a magenta shadow, nearly gone. "He is in the cellar."


    That gave me pause. Barion had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped since my demonstration with the fire. When Id attempted to pry, hed say something along the lines of needing to prepare, and that hed show me when it was ready. I was delighted. Some part of me had feared our business would conclude with Barions research remaining a mystery. Any additional information on magic would be invaluable.


    I walked around her excitedly, then paused. Whoever Maya was, whoever she might become in the future, she was still a person. At this point, she didnt even seem like a particularly bad person. Just a child. I turned back.


    "Im sorry I hurt you," I said. Somehow, Id never been able to bring myself to apologize before now. "Its complicated, but, long story short, I thought you were someone else. Its not what you are, I mean. I dont go around attacking-" I stopped myself just shy of saying demi-humans, then continued. "-attacking infernals. Maybe that doesnt matter. Anyway, I am sorry." I was about to turn and go when Maya spoke.


    "It matters," she said. A shadow of something flitted across her face, disappearing before I could identify it.


    A weight lifted off my chest as I left the house. Perhaps the simple act of befriending Maya now could change things for the better. For the first time, the path ahead of me didnt seem quite so insurmountable.


    Perhaps building a successful future was as simple as making incremental changes over time. I could get my father to sponsor Barions research, build him a facility within the capital, and he in turn could study my newfound magic, maybe even my visions of the future. I could keep Maya close and solidify her role as Barions assistant, keeping her busy and off the board for the opposing force.


    To fight Thoth, I would need allies.


    The padlock on the cellar door was already open, the chains hanging slack to either side of the iron doors. I pulled the heavy doors open one at a time, the metal whinging in protest, and stepped inside.


    It went deeper than expected. At the bottom of the initial set of stairs, there was another set, leading downward to the right. Then another. A sound echoed up from beneath and I stopped in my tracks, tilting my head.


    Was someone crying?The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))


    I shivered, then shook my head to clear it. Was I a child, jumping at noises in the dark? No.


    Well. I was a child.


    But no.


    I descended three more sets of stairs, moving slowly, my hand against the cold stone wall. My teeth chattered and I could see my breath with each exhale. It was somehow colder in the stairwell than it was outside. There was a growing scent of antiseptic and something foul beneath it, a mix of refuse and oxidized copper. Someone was crying, I was sure of it. My stomach turned, my earlier confidence all but forgotten.


    Something was wrong here.


    The stairway opened up into a pitch-black room. The darkness pushed in on me, thick and oppressive. I could barely make out the shape of a torch sconce. I blindly found the flint and steel hanging from its base and struck them against the torch. On my second strike, the torch caught, flooding the room in a dim light.


    And as the contents of the room came to light, that small hope that had kindled within me flickered and died.


    When my father first told me I was to accompany the army to Inharion, I was thrilled. Mother had been reading me the Collected Tales of Sir Gantry the Wise over the prior weeks, the story of the knight who was among the first to arrive in Uskar. The tales of Sir Gantry were frolicking and optimistic, regaling the reader with a rose-colored retelling of the first meeting between mankind and the elves.


    Sir Gantry was shocked by the appearance of the elves. The women were buxom and beautiful, the men slight and effeminate. Sir Gantry gave the elves gifts, greeting them as equals. But they were not that. They were fiercely territorial amongst themselves and primitive. All the more reason, Sir Gantry decided, for mankind to aid them. With the help of a thousand scholars and a thousand priests he taught the elves to read and honor the gods. He taught them how to prepare vegetables and cook meat, instead of simply eating everything raw. Most magnanimous of all, Sir Gantry gave the strongest tribe of the elves the secret of forging steel so they might maintain order.


    But the elves did not care for order, only power.


    The strongest tribe of elves began slaughtering the rest, forcing submission and tyrannical rule upon their fellows. They levied unfair taxes and raped and murdered. Sir Gantry wept at the carnage. Determined that it could not end this way, he rode into the midst of a battle, banner held high, and shouted to the elves. "Why have you forgotten the gods and turned against your own people?" The elves looked at each other and threw down their weapons, and mourned, for they had forgotten the humanity they had been taught.


    There was a soft, stuttered sound. Crying.


    "I know its earlier than planned but have a little faith my dear. We just have to push a bit further."


    The crying turned more hysterical and mixed with begging. It turned my stomach.


    "Well, perhaps you could use a break. Just do me one small favor."


    Anything, the child said.


    "Tell me where the boy who came down here went. Did he leave?"


    Everything in my mind screamed at me to run. I exploded out of the cupboard, startling the children in cages near me, and made a mad dash towards the top of the stairs.


    Barion stood at the top. I scraped to a halt, my arms pinwheeling. How had he gotten in front of me? His expression was so mournful it made my skin crawl. I slowly backed away as Barion closed the distance between us.


    "We could have done such great work together," he said, "if youd only waited a few more days." I moved further into the dungeon, looking for a window of opportunity to move past him. None came.


    "The hells are you talking about?" I stammered.


    "Your new home was nearly complete." Barion inclined his head towards the cage in the center of the room and I felt my blood freeze. "It was quite the passion project. Beautiful and utilitarian in equal measure. A lot of thought went into making sure you wouldnt hurt yourself or anyone else."


    The demon-fire. That was the point of the chemical bath above the cage, likely filled with rosewater in case I immolated myself. He feared it enough to take such measures, so that had to mean something. But how could I use it? It wasnt exactly practical and most of the cellar was made of stone.


    The broom. It was next to the bucket I almost knocked over. I needed to distract him. I continued moving backwards, shifting my destination slightly towards the broom.


    "As if you care for the suffering of others." I spat at him, not having to fake the anger.


    "You wound me, child," Barion said. There was actual hurt in his voice. "Unnecessary suffering is unconscionable, the gods greatest failure."


    The look on my face must have said quite a lot because I didnt even have to goad him before he continued.


    "There are great evils in the world, child. A war is coming. A Great War, the atrocity of which you cannot possibly imagine."


    I almost tripped, his words throwing me entirely off-balance. I tried to shake it off. People always said that. My father made the same claim most of my life. Just because he was saying it now didnt mean he knew for certain. I almost reached the broom.


    "So, what, youre just getting the war-crimes started before the war? What possible justification could you have for all this?" I indicated the room angrily, creeping closer to my goal inch by inch.


    "They are my students. I am trying to help them awaken, as you awakened." Barion closed the distance between us casually. He moved easily, as if there was nothing truly at stake, as if his victory and correctness were both completely assured.


    "You know nothing about me." My hand closed on the rough wood of the broom. I didnt have to search for the feeling. It boiled beneath the surface of my mind, thick and awful.


    "Incorrect. I know that at some point in the not-so-distant past, you were exposed to demon-fire and lived. It was traumatic. The way you look at the flamethat beautiful gift of the godsas if it is grime beneath your heel is enough. The how and the why are as beyond me as they are irrelevant. You were ordinary once and are now anything but."


    A wave of heat radiated up my back, signaling my success. I pulled the flaming broomstick forward and swung, air crackling as the violet flames flickered and the flaming wood arced straight towards his face. Barion didnt flinch. His gloved hand blurred and caught the stick with a meaty crack. My flames petered out where he held the stick. Rosewater. Hed been treating his clothes with rosewater.


    The blue-silver blade of his rapier flashed and caught me in the chest, piercing me through.


    A white-hot sliver of pain shot through me a half-second later and something inside me tensed, spasming horribly. I might be the only person in the world to recognize that specific pain. The heart. Again. I tried to reach out with a spark to set him on fire. But my hand fell to my side. My body was already failing me.


    "Alas, I cannot risk the whole of my research for one intriguing case study." Barion sheathed his blade, looking utterly crestfallen. "I am sorry, child."


    I slipped to my knees and toppled over. My sight was already going dark around the edges, a black halo growing wider and wider. What was the point of all this, anyway? A dark smile came to my lips. If somewhere in the aether, some god had the misfortune of choosing me as their champion, had given me a vision of the future and expected me to change things they chose poorly. I thought of Lillians smiling face, her soft body nestled next to mine, basking in the gold-dusk sun after our mountainside picnic, then nothing.


    As I died, returning to the same black void Id nearly forgotten, I heard a single word.


    Again.

 Chapter 11. Everwood VI

    Chapter 11. Everwood VI


    Gentle hands shook me awake. I started, sitting up in bed and immediately bent forwards, hand clutching my heart. What the hells? I was dead. No one survived a sword to the heart, not even with healing magic. Maya stared at me in confusion, her hands clasped in front of her waist. "Boy, are you well?"


    Shit. I was still in Barions house. I fell back, placing my hands on my face.


    "Of course Im not well, I got stabbed."


    Mayas eyes roamed up and down my shirtless form with clinical thoroughness and I felt myself blush. "Where?"


    I looked down at myself. The spot on my chest was flawless. Several things occurred to me at once. Maya had played me, sending me into Barions lair and setting me up to die. And someone was messing with me. A sudden burst of anger took me. "Whatever game you and that hack bastard Barion are playing, Im done." I stood, not caring about my state of undress or the way she shied away from me. I summoned the spark and held it to the cottage wall. Mayas eyes went wide.


    "Ill burn this place to the ground-"


    Instead of backing away, Maya stepped forward. Her hand glowed green, and she placed it against the back of my neck before I could react. There was a loud snap and bright flash of pain as the vertebra in my neck detached themselves. I fell to the ground limply, head bouncing off the bed frame with a hollow thunk and saw black.


    I flew through the darkness. The speed felt slightly different from last time.


    Again.


    Gentle hands shook me awake. I opened my eyes and stared at Maya.


    "Boy, are you well?" She asked. There was no suspicion or hostility in her face, nothing to imply she had just tried to murder me. Had murdered me. I sat up, flexing my neck carefully and finding no pain. My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I was terrified of her.


    "Please leave me." I said, unable to look at her.


    "Very well, Maya said quietly, seeming to sense something was off. "But Master Barion wishes to see you. Do not keep him waiting long.


    As soon as the door closed, I began to hyperventilate, head hung, staring at the comforter. The puzzle pieces slid into place with damning clarity. I hadnt been sent a vision of the future.


    Id lived it.


    And then I died, then was sent back to my childhood. To quote a certain monster, the why and the how of it were beyond me. Barion and Maya had both killed me. There was no question of that. It meant everything Id learned was true. Not a dream, not a vision. Barion was a monster. Maya could not be trusted. And there were a half dozen children being tortured in the basement.


    It occurred to me that I knew this story. Id been so distracted it hadnt really come to me until now. Whenever I was on one of my many drinking expeditions Id often go to the military bars and hassle the rangers for tales of the Everwood. A particularly surlyor perhaps hauntedveteran regaled me with the awful tale. Theyd come across an abandoned house in the Everwood, found the bodies of dozens of children buried there. Only three were found alive in the cellar, all horribly maimed. Between long pulls on his mead, he mentioned what really kept him up at night was how fresh everything was. Some of the corpses had been there a while, but several were recent, possibly only hours old.


    I did the mental math. The rangers would find this place approximately four years from now. Well, that was no help at all. But wait. If he hadnt already, father would soon be sending out massive search parties. Theyd be thorough. All I really needed to do was run away. Once they found me, I could direct them here, and they could save the children in the basement.


    Nothing about it was illogical, but it felt wrong, craven somehow. As if I was betraying them.


    I could feel guilty later. Now wasnt the time to take unnecessary risks. I had already died twice, three times if you counted the first. There was no way to know how many times I could come back. Id bide my time for a few days to gather supplies and give the search parties time to cover ground. Then Id make my escape. I just needed to do things exactly as before.


    That plan lasted as long as it took for me to walk out of the room. Almost immediately, things were different. Barion seemed markedly less friendly than the last time, always watching me out of the corner of his eye and interrogating me on the uses and makeup of whatever mixture I was demonstrating. The gathering went much more quickly now that I knew where to look, and I spent almost all of my free time practicing with my flame. My feelings for the magic had not changed, but avoidance was simply a luxury I no longer had.


    Mayas demeanor had changed nearly as much as Barions. Where before, Id been lucky to get a single sentence out of her, now the words gushed from her, as if theyd been held under pressure for quite some time.


    "So lucky." Maya said, mesmerized by the spark in my hand. She lounged in the field as I practiced, our work done for the day.


    "Id hate to see what you consider unlucky." I focused on the spark, trying to make it move independently. No dice.


    "There goes the storm in your eyes again." Maya said. I grimaced. It was hard to remember what she was capable of and how shed turned on me when she was so damn affable. "But you are lucky," she continued. "The dantalion flame is completely lost to my people within this realm."


    I closed my hand around the spark, not actually touching it, just letting it fade the moment my fingers closed around it. What Maya said slowly registered. That was different from what shed told me last time.


    "Theres no infernals left who can use it?" I asked carefully.


    "Most of its practitioners were defending our home during the reckoning. The human tyrant destroyed the dimension gate, separating us forever. Perhaps there are a handful left out there, but they are unknown to the Magus Enclave."


    I winced, increasingly grateful my name was not as well-known as my fathers. "Forever? So, theres no way to make another gate?"


    "There is, but it involves dantalion fire and other high-level magics. A difficulty, when-"


    "Well, my mother was just a normal person," I said bitterly. It somehow felt unjust, describing her that way. "At first it was mostly manageable. Just a nosebleed every few weeks. But as things progressed it became"


    The memory forced its way to the surface. Mother on her back, shaking uncontrollably, flecks of blood bubbling from her mouth and blotching her eggshell-white dress. A pool of black crimson blossoming where her head had cracked against the floor. Me on my knees, hands frantically trying to cushion her head and neck as she seized, flecks of spittle wetting against my cheeks and face.


    " More difficult," I finished quietly. "The doctors couldnt do anything. It was only a matter of time."


    "Im sorry for your loss," Barion said. Strange as it was, it felt like he meant it. "I take it you read the book around that time? Towards the end."


    "I did," I admitted.


    Barion placed a hand on his head, looking aggrieved. "I swear, that book has a higher academic body count than Cyrus II and Walden of Tarn combined."


    Huh. I was about to ask how when Maya arrived with the tea. "Giving Cairn a history lesson, Master Barion?" She asked with feigned disinterest. Had it not been for the tail twitching nervously, she would have looked completely composed.


    "Thank you dear," Barion took his tea and flooded it with milk. "Come sit with us, Maya. Our guest has some questions about chronal magic."


    Maya hesitated, then took a seat between us. She folded her hands beneath her. I could see her knee bouncing restlessly beneath the table. The absurdity of it hit me all at once and I had to hide a smile. A child-murdering monster, an infernal, and a reincarnated prince, all sipping tea together in a quaint gazebo and discussing time travel.


    "Where was I?"


    "The book with the body count." I prompted.


    "Right. Well, other than proliferating the proletarian farce that all the rabble must do to raise their station is rise up and overthrow their betters" Barion rolled his eyes, pausing to sip his tea. "The problem with Percival is that it just sounds so damn plausible. Almost malfeasantly so."


    "Im lost," Maya looked between the two of us. "What are we talking about?"


    "Time travel and how it relates to a particular example of Hestrian populist philosophy thinly disguised as fiction. Do try to keep up." Barion said, with the barest hint of a smile. Maya only looked more lost, and I couldnt really blame her. "Do you remember how Percival described the chrono sphere when he found it?"


    I considered that and furrowed my brow. "Its been a long time since I read it. If I remember correctly, it was a mixture of different magics held within a sphere."


    "Not just any magics." Barion said. "Water. Earth. Stone. Air. And life." He glanced at Maya.


    "Healing magic?" Maya guessed.


    "Yes. Those basic elements, held within a spatial field. All arranged in the exact ratio of the elements in our world. The idea being to create a microcosm of earth herself." Barion explained. Mayas eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "So you already see the problem."


    "Now Im lost," I said.


    "The only reason a mage would create a simulacrum like that," Maya said, still astounded, "Would be to form a sympathetic link between the sphere and the Earth. But the power required would be"


    "Colossal." Barion finished. "Were talking about real, world level magic. Literal fields of mana batteries as far as the eye can see. But once youve overcome the logistical nightmare of powering the thing, you still must deal with the sphere. The idea is you create a sphere so similar to the Earth in its ratios of elements that the only difference is scale. The elements are held within a spatial field, the sort of the spell used to fix expensive objects that cannot be replaced or repaired by traditional methods. Like with any direct link magic, the closer the link, the higher the likelihood to succeed. What, then, is the problem?"


    "The ratios," I mused. "Theres no way to know if you got the math right."


    "It is impossible to know if youve gotten the calculations right." Barion nodded in approval. "Even if a dedicated institution of magicians had teams on all four corners of the Earth, taking samples, and an entire team of mathematicians working on the calculations, at some point they would be guessing. And the only way to know for certain is to try."


    Maya looked grim. "You could destroy the entire world."


    "Yes." Barion said. "But only if your math is right. Astronomically improbable. More likely, you blow yourself to the seven hells and everyone else within a mile radius."


    I sipped my tea, quietly pondering that. "So regardless of how powerful the magician is, its impossible."


    "Sadly, yes." Barion looked at me sympathetically. "Given the authors thematic proclivities its widely theorized that the point of making time travel seem so plausible was to act as a honeypot for the very elite it demonized. What better way to get petty revenge on your betters than to have them blow themselves up?"


    "No one can change the past, try as we might," Maya said, in a faraway voice that gave the impression she was no stranger to this line of thought. "It is better to look forward."


    It wasnt the answer I wanted, but it did clarify things. What was happening to me wasnt the work of a single mage. There was something driving this on a much greater scale.


    Sometime later, I gathered my things and prepared to slip into the dark.

 Chapter 12. Everwood VII

    Chapter 12. Everwood VII


    It was the dawn of the tenth day, and I was prepared as I was going to get. Slowly, I went through the mental checklist, making sure to grab everything.


    Food and water.


    Rope.


    White tree bark tinder.


    The additional robe.


    The surplus potions and poultices.


    My sword.


    After much consideration and going back and forth on the topic, I decided the best time to leave this place would be early dawn. In an ideal world, it would be better to leave at night to maximize the time my absence went without notice, but I had not forgotten that first harrowing evening in the Everwood and was under no delusions that such a venture would somehow work out better now. Worse, using the demon-fire would be a death sentence. It was practically a beacon in the forest at night and Barion could easily use it to track me. If Barion emerged at noon, that would still give me a six-hour lead, and I wasnt about to squander that.


    Now, tattered satchel over my shoulder, I crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the fourth and seventh step that squeaked horribly. The cottage was utterly silent and dimly lit by the first pale blue rays of morning light. I slowly turned the doorknob counter-clockwise and stepped into the brisk morning air of the clearing, transitioned the still-turned knob to my other hand and eased it close, every bump and squeak sending a stab of fear to my legs. I stood motionless for a moment to still the shaking. Then I slowly moved across the front of the house, careful with the placement of my feet. This was the critical moment.


    At the edge of the wall, I leaned forward to look. The chains and padlock to the cellar were undone. Barion was down there. This was it.


    Then the front door swung open.


    Maya stared at me, her tail twitching from side to side. My hands clenched into fists. How? How did she know? Part of me briefly considered drawing my sword and attacking. But I knew what she was capable of. Even if I managed to wound her or land a killing blow, all she had to do was touch me once and it was lights out. Mayas eyebrow raised, and I quickly moved my hand away from my sword. My initial panic subsided. It didnt seem like she was here to bust me. In her left hand, she held a simple brown bag. After a moment, she looked over her shoulder at a nearby clump of trees then back to me, indicating with her thumb.


    I followed.


    As soon as we got to the patch of trees, she turned to me and began to speak, her words coming out in a tumble, her accent thicker than usual. "I packed you some meat and bread. It wont keep for long, so make sure you eat it in the first few days. And Master Barion has a relationship with some creatures of the wood, so if you see anything that looks out of the ordinary make sure to stay out of sight. Not that you wouldnt anyway. Also, Im sure I do not have to tell you but do not use the demon flame. There is also flint and steel in the bag."


    I was too shocked to speak a proper sentence. "Maya? How long? Why are-" Then I stopped. It made no sense.


    "Let us walk so you may start building your distance." I followed her, our soft footsteps the only noise, the forest uncharacteristically silent. After a while she finally spoke. The words seemed halting and unpracticed in contrast to before. "You know what is in the cellar." It wasnt a question.


    "I have an idea."


    Maya drooped in shame. "When Master Barion first visited the enclave, he offered a way to help my people. A way to regain our old magic. His offer was simple: we would fund his research and once he saw results, be among the first to reap the benefits. Part of our support was to provide assistants. There were three of us, once." She said bitterly. "At first, we were all on board. The original subjects were animals. It was difficult what we did to them, but they were just animals. Then, one day, Barion brought home the first child." Maya shuddered.


    "And things took a turn for the worse?"


    "Yes," Maya nodded. "It is shameful, but at first I did not care. They were human, after all. Humans had only ever been a curse upon our lands, exploiting our weakness and extorting us ever since the human king broke our dimension gate. Among the three of us chosen, I was the lucky one. My power cannot be used to cause painor so Master Barion thought. The other two wielded water and air. And the things they were forced to put the children through-" Maya closed her eyes, "they are things I will never forget. Eventually, I could not even hold on to my anger towards them. Human or not, they were just children." She hissed the last word.


    "What happened to the other two?" I asked.


    "They could no longer stomach what they were being asked to do. They had the same look in their eye that I see in yours. Their names were Conall and Teshur, and they ran. They tried to get me to come with them, but I refused. I could not justify leaving. We had done so much bad. For no good to come of it seemed wrong somehow. It all jumbled up in my mind. It seemed better to stay the course for a little while longer, until there were results."


    "My tutor back home would call that the low road fallacy," I said quietly, trying to keep my voice free of judgement. "Its seductive. Makes you feel like you have to keep going down the wrong path to justify choosing it in the first place."


    A massive thing leered down at me, twice my height. Its eyes were black, its face covered in dried red. A set of antlers cast shadows the size of small trees. Its body was semi-transparent, a mess of multi-colored organs visible below the surface of its gut. It opened its mouth, revealing dull blood-colored teeth and shrieked, its voice high-pitched and warbled. My ears popped from the sound and pressure, my hearing deafened.


    Frantically, I stood to run, not caring for the direction, anywhere to put distance between myself and this monster. It lowered its head and shifted, the bone of its antler catching me in the side and flinging me into a tree. I hit with a crack, my left arm snapping, eyes watering as waves of pain washed over me. I shook my head, trying to stay conscious as the blackness threatened to overtake me.


    "You stole from me." A familiar voice. Terror overtook me. I turned to see Barion standing before the creature as if it was not even there. It looked like a twisted Elk. It watched me as he spoke, mean and drooling. "I took you in. Fed you. Cared for you. And you stole from me." Barion said, his easy going manner gone.


    "I didnt," I said, hating the weakness of my voice, "I wouldnt."


    "What do you call the clothes on your back? That food in your bag?" Barion crouched down, his pale face cold and pitiless. "And to think, I had considered that with some work on my part, one day you could stand by my side, an ally. What a fool I was."


    "Liar." I spat in his face. There was a surge of sudden defiance in my chest. I was tired of simpering and sneaking and begging for my life. Barion didnt blink, the trail of bloody saliva moving slowly down his cheek. "Stand by your side my royal ass. You were going to imprison me in the cellar with the rest of your failures."


    Barion reeled back from that, hand shaking as he used the sleeve of his robe to wipe his face. "Is that what Maya told you?"


    I froze.


    "Yes, I knew it was her. Thats the worst of your thefts, boy. Your gravest sin. My dear assistant. I have no idea how you charmed her, but I hope youre happy."


    "Is she-"


    "Dead?" Barion asked. "Oh yes."


    My stomach dropped.


    Barion continued. "I have no patience for disobedience. Still, I tried to make it quickshe served me well for years, it was the least I could dobut she was oh so determined to fight to the last breath." He held up his right alabaster arm, showing a dozen jagged red scratch marks. My stomach turned.


    Maya was dead because she helped me.


    "I thought you were iron, boy. I would have molded you into steel. A force to be reckoned with. But I was wrong." Barion grabbed my hair and pulled my head up. "Youre just meat. Just like the rest of them. Offal. And I have only one use for offal." Barion threw my head back against the tree and stood. The impact sang discordant notes through my skull. He turned away to the monstrous elk. "Do as you please."


    "Yesss." The elks mouth did not move, but I heard the word in my head as clearly as if it had spoken. It advanced on me slowly, savoring the moment.


    Fight. You have to fight.


    I called the spark forth. The hulking beast regarded me curiously, lowering its nose to sniff the magic held in my hand.


    "Shall I tell you the one, massive weakness of demon-fire, child?" Barion said, still facing away.


    In a blur of movement, the elk opened its mouth and chomped down on my entire arm up to the shoulder, flame and all. Its dull teeth ground. There was a horrible crunching noise coupled with a sucking sensation. Its eye watched me, dark and empty.


    I screamed.


    "It doesnt work on demons." Barion finished.


    He might have said something else, but I could no longer hear him over the sound of my own keening voice. The monster swallowed greedily, and through its transparent skin I saw the ruined remnants of my arm pass down its throat. It made a mewling noise and took a chunk out of my side. Then it bit again. And again. And again.


    Again.

 Chapter 13. Everwood VIII

    Chapter 13. Everwood VIII


    Suffer. As I have suffered.


    I screamed. I screamed into unconsciousness. I screamed as the deep dark drug me backward and the voices whispered.


    Again


    I screamed at the voice.


    I didnt want to go back.


    Meat.


    I was just meat.


    Meat to be consumed by whatever happened to kill me next life. And the next. And the next. The demons face chased me through the darkness and into the light.


    Gentle hands shook me awake.


    "Boy-" Maya trailed off, flinching as I held her to me, my entire body shaking. I could still feel the teeth, tearing me apart. I could see the eye that watched, reveling in my pain.


    "Sorry. Im so sorry."


    I wasnt strong enough. I would never be strong enough. The gods chose poorly. This was it. This was all I would ever be. Teeth. I could feel the teeth. I felt the teeth the sword and the dagger the fire and they burned me and pierced me and tore me bled me dry until all that was left was a wretched husk of a thing I once was that screamed into the void begging for it to end-


    Arms wrapped around me. They cut through the tempest of my mind. Maya held me. She didnt know me, but she held me all the same. A soft hand stroked the back of my head, nails brushing my scalp. Nails.


    I saw Barions arm, bearing the dozens of scratches. My chest tensed again, wrought with guilt.


    "I shouldnt have left you."


    Maya knelt in front of me and touched my face. Her eyes were confused, but warm. "We have all left others behind. We can only move forward." There was such compassion in her face. It was almost enough to hold back the storm.


    Almost.


    The images began to return. I shook, my skin crawling. Maya released me and looked deep in my eyes, searching for something. Then her hand glowed green. "Peace now. Sleep, Nilend." Though it happened before in a very different context, I did not fear her. Her fingers brushed my forehead and I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.


    "I dont know whats wrong. He was fine. Ate like a dragon and drank like a horse." Barion snapped. I could hear him talking outside my door.


    "Well he is not fine now," Mayas muffled voice countered, "Whatever happened, he is fragile. I will tend to him but you must give me space to do so."


    "Fine, fine. This whole thing has been a waste of time anyway, whats a little more? Fix him." Footsteps stomped away. Maya entered with a steaming tray. Her scowl immediately brightened when she saw me.


    "Youre awake."


    "I am," I said, easing myself up on my elbows. It was strange how much better I felt. "What did you do to me?"


    Maya nearly fumbled the tray. She placed it on the side table and stood back, the savory scent of tomato soup made my stomach rumble. Maya held her hands behind her back, her cheeks pink. Her tail moved back and forth in a lazy half-circle.


    "I am a life mage. Healing is my primary talent." She said. I took a spoonful of the tomato soup and found the warm broth delectably salty as it warmed my mouth and throat.


    "Thats amazing. Ive never met a healer before. You must bring in a killing." I smirked at her.


    Maya sniffed, "Oh yes, all the room and board I could want." Still, she seemed pleased by my comment.


    "I-" I froze, remembering the depth of my pain the previous night. "Why am I like this? The last time we spoke-"


    "Your mind was fractured. I have seen it before" Maya wrung her hands. "Life mages are not limited to physical healing. We can also tend the mind."


    Oh no. What had she done?


    Maya must have seen the alarm on my face. She cut in quickly, "I didnt change anything. You are still you. It is called psyo-genesis. When a person goes through a traumatic event, sometimes the mind gets stuck: they relive the moment, over and over. I would normally ask permission, but you were so"


    Broken.


    She didnt have to say it. I knew. I looked inward. It was still there, a dark mass roiling in my heart, but it no longer threatened to consume me. I could stand against it. I would stand against it. I would fight.


    "Thank you," I said. It felt like a vast understatement.


    "You are not angry with me?" She looked surprised.


    I chuckled and fell back against the bed, my hand on my forehead. "Angry?" As if I could be angry. It was hard to fathom. "You saved me, Maya. I will not forget it. I swear it to the Elder gods."


    A heavy silence hung between us. That particular oath was not made idly.


    "I will not ask what happened to you" Maya said in a voice that betrayed curiosity, "but I do wonder, when I first met you, you mistook me for someone else."


    "By yourself, I mean. With Maya gone back to her people and me in Whitefall." I clarified. I was treading dangerous water but could not resist the subtle jab.


    Barion drained his glass in a single gulp and pushed it aside. "I am always alone, Cairn. That is the path Ive chosen. Even now, with the two of you here. I am alone." His voice was low. I went to take his glass, but he put his hand on it to stop me. "Leave it. Bring the bottle." I did as he asked, hoping all the while that he would drown in it.


    I found Maya pacing in my room. She turned to me, her eyes red. "You need to-"


    She stopped mid-sentence as I held a finger to my lips, indicating the door. She shook, and shivered, and looked like she was about to explode. I grabbed a blanket, opened my window and stepped out onto the roof. Maya followed me, taking my hand as she stepped onto the bed and through the window. She folded her legs beneath her and sat, a silent tear running down her cheek. I covered her shoulders in the blanket to shield her from the cold. She cringed at the touch, then relaxed. Her breathing steadied.


    I sat beside her. We looked out into the clearing and the sky above. For once, there were no clouds, and a thousand stars shined brightly. I thought of Annette and Sera, of my mother, and wondered if they were looking up at the same bright sky.


    "Why are you so kind to me?" Maya asked quietly. There were many reasons. But none I could articulate.


    "You sure you want to know?" I asked. "Its heavy."


    "I want to know."


    "Well, you see" I paused dramatically, trying not to smile as I saw her in my peripheral vision, shifting uncomfortably. I turned and looked straight at her. "This is all part of my master plan to seduce you."


    The resulting silence was perfect.


    "What?!" Maya squawked and leaned away from me.


    "Its true." I said seriously. "Now, Im only twelve, and I havent gone through puberty yet, but I figure if I keep this up-" I nearly bit my tongue as her small hands pushed me viciously, nearly toppling me off the roof.


    "Okay! okay, I give!" I held my hands up in surrender.


    Maya started to giggle, quiet at first, then louder until her laughter echoed across the field.


    "Gross. So weird." She said, wiping tears from her eyes.


    "How you wound me, my lady." I held a hand to my heart. She fixed me with a long-suffering glare.


    Then the levity was gone from her face, instead twisting into something painful.


    "Cairn, you have to go."


    "I didnt think youd take it this badly."


    "Im being serious," she said. "Barion isnt what you think."


    "I know," I said.


    "He-" she stopped. "What do you mean?"


    "I mean I know."


    "Know what?"


    "I know about the cellar. The children. I know hes torturing them, trying to make them awaken."


    "How?"


    I thought about telling her the truth. But it was too much. It was hard for me to believe most days. "Lets just chalk it up to me being a nosy bastard."


    "Then why are you still here?" She asked, bewildered, "Why did you not run at the first opportunity?"


    "Im going to talk. Just lay some things out. Let me know if I get anything wrong." I leaned back on the palms of my hands, gazing into the night sky. "You take care of them. The children. You heal them and try to make sure Barion doesnt go too far. You want to leavethis isnt what you signed up for and Barion scares you, but you cant because who will take care of them if you go? And somewhere, some part of you is terrified because youre sure, one of these days, that youll be the one in the cage."


    "How" Maya sniffled beside me, arms wrapped over her legs, face tilted down. "Yes. Thats all true. I should have fought him. Stopped him somehow. Im a terrible person."


    I reached out and pulled her into a sideways hug. "Its not your fault. Theres no world where anyone but Barion is to blame for whats happening here. Youre a kid," I said fiercely, surprised at my own conviction.


    "Youre a kid." She rubbed her eyes with both fists irritably, "Why are you talking like youre older than me?"


    "My father always said I was terrible at acting my age."


    "And you never answered my question. Why are you still here?" She searched my face, scared to hope.


    "Because Im not leaving you here, Maya. We get out together, or not at all."


    "But I cant," Maya said desperately, "Im all they have, Cairn. As long as Barion is here I have to stay."


    "Then theres only one option."


    I smiled at her.


    "We get them all out."

 Chapter 14. Everwood IX

    Chapter 14. Everwood IX


    There were three days left and the tension was mounting. I had an idea for how to take on Barion, but the issue was, it didnt account for his outside help. There just wasnt enough information there yet. So, absent better options I had started taking vurseng (the one that keeps you awake) to stop sleeping for the last two days. Not because I was concerned about Barion attacking me in the nightat this point I was confident he wouldnt move on me until sometime after the tenth daybut because I needed to know the relationship between him and his demonic murder elk. Unfortunately, Maya had never seen it or even heard of it. There were three possibilities:


    Barion could commune with demons and did so the night of my escape.


    Or he had some sort of method to directly summon them.


    Or the demon resided within the Everwood itself.


    After considering it, Id decided that the third was most likely. After all, I had seen the demon from a distance the first few nights in the woods. Unfortunately, I had no way of retracing my steps, which meant doing the one thing I had absolutely wanted to avoid at all costs: Following Barion into the wood. And of course, since I never saw him venture into the forest on his own during the day, he had to be going in the dead of night.


    On the third sleepless evening, the opportunity finally presented itself.


    I stalked Barion into the forest. He held a lantern out before him. Shadows of tree limbs and shrubs clawed upward like black tendrils. The vurseng kept me awake and alert, but nothing is free. On a baseline, average day it worked fine. When adrenaline hit and my heart was pounding in my throat, it made me stressed and edgy, jumping at shadows in the dark. And there were many shadows in the dark.


    Moving from tree to tree I stepped softly, walking heel-to-toe and keeping my knees bent. The one upside to being so much smaller was that I weighed less, and with how thin-soled my shoes were, I could generally feel anything beneath me that might snap before it gave me away. So far, everything was going smoothly. I remembered my experience, alone in the dark of the Everwood, animals hounding me and nipping at my heels. This venture, by comparison, was borderline peaceful and I wondered if Barion was using some magical method to keep the creatures at bay. Then again, maybe they just smelled it on him, the monster he was, and knew well enough to stay clear. Then there was me and my dumb ass following him in the dark.


    I grimaced.


    I had a half-second warning before it happened, the slightest tug on my arm. A branch caught the fabric of my robe and snapped back, the whole branch rustling. The lantern in Barions hands swung around, darkness around me fleeing. I pushed myself up against the closest tree. The light stayed still.


    Something touched my neck. Something long and chitinous with many, many legs. I pressed a hand over my mouth and reminded myself I was playing the role of a hero. Heroes did not make massive mistakes over little shit-bird bugs in the dark.


    As if sensing the unspoken insult, the thing bit down just above my clavicle. I dug my fingers into my thigh, biting back the yell. Finally, the light moved on and I grabbed the thing off me. It was nearly the size of a snake, but with dozens of legs that pushed against my hand. Some part of me was grateful it was too dark to see. I reeled back and threw it into the forest.


    Lucky bastard. If it were any other day I would have stomped you flat.


    The skin around the bite was tender and hot to the touch. Poisonous then. Damn this forest. Everything was a nightmare, even the bugs. Id have to break out the anti-venom as soon as I got back to the cottage.


    When I caught up to Barion, he was standing before a narrow entrance to a large cavern. The way its natural formation extended upward resembled a manmade gateway. Barion knelt. I heard humming, a low gravelly note that shifted downward then stayed flat, then downward again.


    The antlers appeared first. Then the rest of it emerged into the dull lamplight, Its semi-transparent skin shimmered in the light and its insides moved like worms in a fishermans bait bag. The cold hand of panic gripped my heart in my chest. It smiled at him, the smile wide and disturbing.


    "Where is my offering?" It questioned. The way it dragged out consonants made my skin crawl.


    "My apologies," Barion replied. "There is no offering today. There have been circumstances beyond my control."


    It leaned down and turned its massive head to look at him. "We cannot eat your excuses."


    "True enough. However, I will soon offer something much more to your liking."


    "You dare to bargain with us?"


    Barions voice was triumphant. "I do. Next week, I will have an infernal for you."


    A numbing chill swept over me.


    Even the demon seemed shocked. "You would let us eat one of the masters?"


    "I would indeed. She is weak and full of doubts. I have no further use for her, and we are far from the eyes of the enclave and council. No one will know." Barion smiled wickedly. "I wont tell, if you dont."


    "One week."


    "See what?"


    "The flame."


    I summoned the fire. It danced in my hand. Had it gotten bigger? It was still small, but no longer the pinprick of light it once was.


    Maya sucked in breath. "It is beautiful."


    Wed have to disagree on that, I supposed. It was difficult to see it as anything other than a weapon capable of causing immense chaos and strife. When I closed my eyes, I could still see the halls of my home burning. Every time I brought it to bear, more than anything else, I wanted it gone.


    That sparked a memory.


    "When I demonstrated the fire for Barion, something else happened. Something I didnt understand. It seemed to unsettle him."


    "What?"


    "No idea if I can do it again. Give me a second." I held the spark to a small, isolated tuft of grass. It burned quickly. Just like before, I pulled inward. The fire died.


    Mayas eyes were wide. "How?"


    "Thats what Barion said," I mused.


    "No. How do you feel?" She asked.


    I looked inward, and found a small spark of heat in my gut. "Thats strange I feel warm. I never noticed it before."


    "And you have had no formal training."


    "None."


    "Swear it."


    "On my honor," I said automatically, immediately regretting how that would sound. Commoners didnt swear on honor. Like everyone else, they swore on the gods or on holy books. But Maya didnt seem to know the difference.


    Maya laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "And father so defiantly believes there is no such thing as fate. Dantalion practitioners are not all created equal. The vast majority will never leave the first stage, which is also the most famous: Ignition. Summoning the flame itself.


    That seemed disappointing somehow. "So most of them only ever manifest a spark this size?"


    "No. That is part of what makes your case so confusing. Most of the time their spark, as you call it, or ignis, is approximately the size of a fist. I am not belittling your efforts, of course." Mayas eyebrows lowered in thought. "It is normal for one who has no training. That is the way of things. You study the flame along with whatever magical talent you happen to possess, and if you are one of the lucky few, you enter the second stage."


    I was fascinated by her explanation. Magic was so rarely spoken off, and even more rarely did the explanation come from one capable of wielding it. "Whats it called? The second stage."


    Maya smirked. "Cebir. Or in your language, Control. You are a rare breed, Cairn the apothecary. It is the ability to withdraw the flame itself, limit its effect." The magnitude of the statement dawned on me slowly.


    "In other words, what you just demonstrated. When we have our talk, Cairn, you will also be telling me how such a thing is possible, and where and how you learned the flame."


    I nodded, though for the first time, it was a lie. I didnt mind telling her certain parts of my story. She deserved that much. But breaking down the fact that she herself had killed me was not something I was ready for. It still ate at me, every time I found myself enjoying her company.


    Over the next three hours, Maya taught me the very basics of magic. How to use my hand as the focal point. After no small amount of convincing on her part, she got me to set a fire and stick my hand in it. I didnt burn. It still felt incredibly hot and uncomfortable, but the fire did not catch. She warned me that this particular aspect was exclusive to demon-fire, and advised against sticking my hand in good ol orange flame.


    After Maya had left, I set fire to the field. I let the fire burn until it extended several feet in each direction, then pulled it back in. The warmth Id felt before was absolutely broiling now, and a bead of sweat slid down my face. I opened my hand and summoned the fire. It gushed upwards in an angry spout of flame a meter high.


    As I watched the fire dissipate to strands of smoke, all the pieces fell into place. I knew how to beat Barion and the demon. It was an insane plan. Not to mention, it had a high probability of getting me killed. But it was the best I had.

 Chapter 15. Everwood X

    Chapter 15. Everwood X


    My rampant abuse of the vurseng continued. There was simply too much to accomplish and not enough time. My vision started to haze around the edges, and in particularly quiet moments I could hear voices. Small whispers of doubt and anxiety. I would need to sleep before the end, but for the moment, it was a luxury I could not afford.


    I set out early in the morning, hauling the massive quantity of sleep agent we gathered and dumped it into the small creek I saw the demon drinking from on that day that now felt like ages ago. My intent was to sideline the monstrosity entirely, though that was a thin hope at best.


    The date was set. Tomorrow at dawn. Maya helped me weave rope together into nets and sharpen stakes. We fashioned Maya a stave with a point at the end. I knew nothing about the construction of weapons, but she seemed pleased with the balance of it, spinning it in a practiced arc. We hid all our supplies deep within the Everwood.


    From across the river, I gathered the sole patch of priceless laudenshade (the one that just kills you) I saw on that first day when Barion had sent me to the river, and mixed it with a paralytic, coating my blade. My sword wasnt going to do much on its own. It was still barely more than a toothpick, it was the poison I was counting on.


    That night, the vurseng finally left my system. I sat on the floor, utterly spent. My head kept nodding forward involuntarily, sleep nearly taking me before I snapped back awake. I ran through it in my mind, over and over again. Was I missing anything? Surely I was missing something?


    But the vurseng had taken its toll. It hurt to think. Maya slipped into the room with a tray of tea, nearly dropping it when she saw me.


    "Nilend," she hissed, slamming the tray on the floor with a clatter and rushing to my side.


    "It''s fine." I mumbled drunkenly.


    "It is not fine. You told me you had been sleeping."


    "Im a liar," I said deliriously, "A dirty liar who lies."


    "You need to rest." Her hands lifted at me. I brushed them away.


    "What if we forgot something, Maya?" I asked. My voice warbled in my ears. The stress rolled down the back of my neck in prickling, radiating waves. "What if it costs us everything?" My breath came in short gasps, each smaller than the last.


    "I am going to touch your mind again." Maya said after a moment of silence. It wasnt a question. "If you do not want this, speak now."


    I said nothing. Maya looked into my eyes and her hand glowed. Her hand touched the back of my neck. She breathed out, and I breathed out with her. In, then out again. The ball of stress and panic unraveled slowly, still there, just no longer overwhelming. The glow faded.


    "My debt to you grows," I smiled ruefully.


    Maya helped me to my feet, guiding me to the bed.


    I awoke at the crack of dawn, anxiety and anticipation crawling in my gut. This room, this house, would no longer be my prison after today. I didnt let myself consider the possibility of another reset. This needed to end. My senses all felt sharper and more vibrant. The crisp cool air chilled me and the sounds of the forest called. I strapped on my sword and laced my boots. Mentally, I reminded myself that the poison on my blade would only be good for the next few hours.


    Maya waited at the door, fully dressed, her face set and determined. As much as I wanted this over, I could only imagine the feeling for her was a hundredfold.


    "Sleep well, Nilend?"


    "Thanks to you."


    She opened the door and we were off.


    First, we strung the chains and snapped the cellar padlock shut. The chains themselves were heavy and frigid to the touch. With any luck, Barion would not realize he had been locked in for a while. We retrieved the stockpile of weapons, then began the second phase: placing all manner of tinder and wood within the entrance of the demons cave. The wood had all been doused in rosewater so it would burn longer without burning out completely. We had chopped much of it over the last few days and piled it high, nearly reaching the top. Maya was confident the thing was nocturnal, and, unless called upon, would remain fast asleep until the late evening. If it worked perfectly and the cave didn''t have a back entranceunfortunately there had been no safe way to checkthe fire would work as a barrier, hopefully killing the thing from smoke inhalation. At the very least, the barrier of demon-fire would at least keep it back until we dealt with Barion.


    "They are immune to it, but that does not mean they do not fear it." Maya had said. "For them it represents a true death, something that they rarely face."


    I lit the kindling aflame. We waited for a few seconds, to see if our actions had immediately roused the demon.


    Nothing.


    Excellent. That meant the sleeping mixture had done its job.


    Was this it? The end of the line, again?


    I was terrified, yes. But there was something greater than the fear.


    Rage.


    The thing was so damn stupid. It could have killed me in one bite, but instead it wanted to drag things out yet again. It was so stupid and petty and vile. The rage flamed up from within me. I grabbed it across its snout with my other hand, and, using the arm still held in its mouth as leverage, coiled my entire body and kicked its remaining eye. Something slimy and wet gave way beneath my foot. It dropped my arm and screamed.


    Maya flew. Her pointed stave struck the ground, and she vaulted upwards. Her hands glowed green as she took flight like a valkyrie, the sun emerging from the clouds behind her. Her face twisted into a feral snarl. She landed hard on the demons back, the claws of her hands digging rivets into its translucent skin.


    The demons howl modulated upward an octave. I watched in sickened awe, as one by one, the colorful sacs and roping entrails within the demon burst in an explosion of crimson. Within seconds, its translucent body shifted opaque, nothing visible but a deep red tint. It spasmed on its feet, sending Maya tumbling off the side. She landed badly, her ankle twisting, and crumpled with a cry of pain. The demons massive body slammed to the ground, raising a fog of dirt into the air. The surrounding smoke was getting thicker. I staggered to her, fighting through the agony in my chest.


    In the distance, the sound of the cellar door was punctuated by the clatter of a chain coming free.


    Maya tried to stand twice, before falling to her knees. "I thought we would have more time. I messed up, Cairn," she whispered.


    "No. You did everything right."


    She was about to try and stand again when I held her back and shook my head.


    "But the plan." Maya wept, her voice raw. "The poison is gone."


    I patted her on the head, projecting a confidence I didnt feel. "Theres always another plan." But there wasnt, really. Just a hunch and a hope. A hunch Id bet the forest on. A sudden explosion of sound echoed out across the clearing, of iron tearing and chain shattering. My heart pounded. My left arm hung useless. I wrenched my sword from the eye of the demon and returned, pulling my final trick, the last contingency, out of my coata glass vial. I took a rag and dampened it with the tincture, coating my sword with it.


    The thing that was once Barion emerged from the smoke. He was taller than before, and seemed to glide rather than walk, lifted by dark tendrils of shadow that elevated him beneath his robe.


    "How long has it been since I have been challenged?" He watched me, as if seeing me for the first time. "I owe you an apology, my friend. It seems I underestimated you." Barion turned in a full circle, taking in the chaos and carnage, gaze falling on Maya and the fallen demon.


    "You." Barion hissed.


    "Leave her be. I did this." I took a step forward.


    "Not without help, you didnt." Barion chuckled then, low and menacing. "Live as long as I have, child, and you will find fewer and fewer surprises. They become priceless gems, invaluable glimmers in the darkness that forms the cave of your existence." He smiled without a hint of warmth. "Today, I am surprised indeed. Since you have shown me such a precious gift, I will make you a deal." He had moved closer, though much to my alarm I hadnt actually seen the movement.


    Barion reached into his robe and I tensed. He withdrew his hand and tossed something before me. The compass landed face up.


    "If you follow that east it will take you back to the road. On my honor, I will not pursue you. All you need to do is leave me the girl. We have accounts to settle, she and I."


    "Hes telling the truth, Cairn," Maya said weakly behind me. "Once he gives his word he holds to itits why he rarely does." Then, after a quiet moment. "Whatever he is, hes powerful. I can sense it. You should go. You cant beat him. It wont work."


    I closed my eyes then. At the beginning of all of this, I would have taken such an offer in a heartbeat. I hadnt owed her anything back then. The image of Annettes unrecognizably burned body still haunted my every dream. So much had changed between then and now. Maya, pulling me from the darkness. Maya holding me as I cried, the one link tethering me from madness. Maya healing the tormented children in the basement, over and over, undoubtedly knowing how pointless it all was. Maya packing me supplies for my escape and stalling, something that cost her life in the end.


    It finally clicked in my mind, the struggle vanquished. Maya was no longer the monster who burned my sister alive. Just as I was no longer the same person who ran, terrified, into the Everwood.


    It didnt matter how many times it took.


    How much it cost.


    I had to do this. I quieted my mind, set my jaw, and opened my eyes.


    Barion cocked his head at me. His entire body was overtaken by shadow until only his mouth remained. It spoke, an otherworldly quality overtaking the voice.


    "You should have taken my offer.

 Chapter 16. Everwood XI

    Chapter 16. Everwood XI


    "Get to the Cellar. Theres too much smoke. Ill be right behind you," I commanded. The infernal pulled herself up, leaning heavily on her stave. I watched Barion closely, preparing to intervene if he pursued her. He didnt seem interested. He simply waited, content to let the forest burn down around us.


    "I thought you were iron, boy. I planned to mold you into steel," Barion said, a strange sadness in his voice. "But I was wrong. You were already steel. And I was a fool to not see it."


    "I owe much to your teachings, Sir Barion." I held my sword upward in a mock salute, covering one eye. "But I am no longer yours to mold." I summoned the spark and set the rose oil on my sword aflame.


    "Even to the end, you intrigue me."


    He circled me. I was expecting another surprise attack from his rapier, my nerves balanced on the edge of a knife. What emerged from over his shoulder looked more like a scorpions stinger, angry and red, the tip dripping with dark ichor. It moved almost too quickly for me to track. A single blink and I would have missed it.


    The stinger plunged forward.


    Somehow, I managed to sidestep, batting it away with my flaming sword. It caught fire for a moment, but Barion quickly smothered it in darkness, leaving it unmolested.


    He hissed in pain. The fire did hurt him, then. But Barion was much smarter than the demon. He pushed me backwards, strike after strike, each intended to kill. I dodged, throwing myself to the side, only to come up to another, swinging over my head. I back-pedaled, the heat of the burning forest growing hotter and hotter.


    Barion leapt forward, his stinger plunging directly at my forehead. I ducked under it only to find myself face to face with him, his arm pulled back. There was no time. His rapier plunged through my gut. He cackled in triumph.


    But this was hardly the first time Id been stabbed. My wounded arm screamed as I grabbed his sword hand, trapping his arm. With a burst of strength, I swung my sword into the dark mass where his face should have been. The shadows retreated and Barions head was exposed. He screeched, throwing me backwards. His jaw hung off on the left side by a gruesome thread, fire scorching his face before the shadows rushed in to quash it.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    He growled inhumanly, and his attacks grew much faster. But he didnt try the rapier again, content to pick away at me from a distance.


    Finally, I was pushed back to the forests edge. The flames licked at my back, setting my robes on fire.


    Barion didnt gloat. His stinger pulled back, preparing the killing blow.


    "I yield!" I yelled, dropping my sword to the side.


    Barion paused mid-strike, confused.


    That was all the time I needed. The bright purple light around us suddenly died as I pulled in the flame. All of the flame. The fire I hated so much. I breathed it in and pulled and pulled until the fire was more of me than anything else. It leaked out the pores of my hands, my eyes, my very soul. If only for that moment, I did not hate the flame. It was capable of great cruelty, yes.


    But it was more than that.


    The fire was a part of me, and without it, I would have been lost long ago. So I accepted the flame, and the flame accepted me. Something rumbled, like a giant stone shifting deep within my soul.


    I held my hand out, first, second, and third finger extended, then spoke the word that was now etched in the darkest depths of my being.


    "Burn."


    "Lucius," Maya scolded. "Dont be rude. Cairn isnt a noble, hes an apothecarys apprentice. He doesnt have a house name."


    "With posture like that and shoes like those?" Lucius looked me up and down skeptically. "Royal apothecary, more like."


    Little bastard was going to out me. Before Maya could think too long on that, I clapped my hands together. "Whos hungry?"


    There was a chorus of cheers in response. As we emerged from the cellar, there was a gust of smoke that sent some of the children to coughing. Maya instructed them to put their shirts over their mouths, and we escorted them to the house. Maya paused at the door, looking at the corpse of the demon still lying in the center of the clearing. I remembered what she said about regeneration.


    "Should we take care of it now?" I asked, hoping she would say no. As Id been too nervous to eat this morning, my stomach rumbled with every thought of food. But the discomfort of going hungry for a little while longer paled in comparison to the idea of having to fight that nightmare again.


    "We should." Maya walked towards it slowly, lost in thought. "Cairn?"


    "Yes?"


    "If you think what you did in the cellar went unnoticed, it did not."


    "Would it hurt you to miss a thing or two every once in a while, Maya?" I asked, grimacing.


    "It would, actually." Maya said. "During my time with master-" she stopped, correcting herself. "With Barion. You knew him for little more than a week and probably already noticed he was prone to mood swings."


    "Thats putting it mildly."


    "Indeed. I had to be attuned to his every whim and emotion, or things would go poorly for me." Maya indicated the house. "And worse for them. So I became adept at reading human emotions."


    "Whatever he was, Barion wasnt human." I said testily. We had just won a great victory. Why couldnt she let it go?


    "Perhaps. My point is, I wonder what it is you hide. Especially now, after everything. If it is that you are not truly an apothecary, I do not carethough that would make me wonder how you learned the trade so thoroughly. If it is that you are a noble, that might even make me respect you more." Maya smiled. "A human noble, treating an infernal like a personeven an equal. It is the stuff of fae tales."


    I ached at that because I knew that she wasnt lying. But the one thing she couldnt imagine was the truth: that my father was the king, and the sole engineer of so much pain and suffering for her peopleher entire race. Still, I needed to tell her. I had faced down a demon and a monster, but somehow the prospect of speaking those words seemed so much more daunting in comparison.


    I readied myself. "Maya, I-"


    She grabbed my arm suddenly.


    "Cairn."


    "What?" I asked, off-balance.


    Her eyes narrowed, staring at the body of the demon "It is still alive."

 Chapter 17. Everwood XII

    Chapter 17. Everwood XII


    The massive demons gut rose and fell.


    Impossible. I had watched it die, destroyed from the inside out. Yet it drew breath. I reached to draw my sword. Maya held an arm out, stopping me.


    "Speak, demon, or be forever silenced," Maya commanded, her eyes hard.


    A black eye the size of my hand opened. "Our apologies to the master," the demon said. "Gratitude, for freeing us from that foul things employ." Again, the voice was not audible, just whispered in my mind like errant thoughts.


    "Oh?" Maya challenged. "Such manners, from the infernal creature that dared lift a hand to one of the chosen?"


    "We had no recourse." The demon pleaded. Its body continued to rise and fall in deep, labored breaths. "Our master ordered it."


    "From what I recall, your master offered it." I said, crossing my arms, "As a boon. And you had no predilections otherwise."


    "So, there was vermin scurrying in the dark that night." The demon looked displeased.


    Maya nodded. "Once I return to the enclave, I will tell them all I witnessed here. The hellhound legion will be decimated. It will take decades to recover from the culling."


    "Perhaps we may offer a trade? The key to defeating our master?" The demon said with barely veiled panic.


    Maya held the amulet aloft. "The usefulness of that leverage is limited."


    "He called for you, before he died." I said, unable to hide my hate. "He said, where is that big useless bastard, then croaked."


    The demon tried to stand and fell over, coughing. "The great and powerful Barion was killed? By two infants? How unsightly." He cackled out a weak laugh.


    "I would not judge him too harshly, as you are about to share the same fate." Maya stepped forward, her hand glowing.


    "Wait." The demon shimmied away from her.


    "I am done waiting," Maya said.


    "We offer you a blood oath!" It shouted, its voice echoing desperation in my mind.


    Maya hesitated. "You would bind yourself to me?"


    I didnt like the sound of that in the slightest.


    "Yes. To you and your line." Its massive form struggled upright, still resting prone on its haunches.


    "What is your name?" Maya asked.


    "This one is known as Kastromoth the Pitiless." The demon said.


    "Give us a second big boy." I pulled Maya aside.


    "What is it?"


    "I know youre a little more familiar with these things than I am, but you cant seriously be considering this?"


    She blinked. "Of course I am considering it. A blood oath is rare. At most, demons offer a writ of indentured servitude. I am just trying to decide how to impress upon him that if you were to wind up dead, it would be as if he murdered one of my people."


    "Thats- wait. Why me?" I asked.


    "Because I am about to insist he bind himself to you, rather than me."


    All the blood left my face, and my palms suddenly went clammy. "Why the hells would you do that?" I hissed. Maya seemed confused by my reaction. In the background, Kastramoth looked between us, head bobbing back and forth like an oversized dog.


    "My reasons are multifold. First, it would guarantee you protection, once we part. Second, it would repay some of my debt. Thirdly, he is not mine to begin with."


    "You brought him down!"


    "And you killed his master, making him yours by proxy." Maya insisted.


    "He eats people!"


    "Yes. Most demons do. Its a preference, not a requirement." Maya turned back to the oversized elk, now sitting in an oddly tamed pose. "As part of our deal, demon, if I forbade you from subsuming human flesh, would that be acceptable?"


    " Yes," Kastramoth said.


    Lucius shrugged. "I read his mail. They talked about all manner of things before their relationship went sour. It was fascinating, though most of it went over my head."


    "Do you remember what they talked about?"


    "My memory isnt so good lately," Lucius said dryly, pointing to a section of scarred skin where the skull had fractured. I winced.


    "They had a seal they always used," Lucius said after a moment, "That much I do remember."


    "Just a second." I went into what used to be Barions study and returned with a piece of paper and a pen. "Mind sketching it out for me?" Lucius gave me a considering glance, then nodded.


    I wasnt sure what I was looking for, not really. But the one thing that had been made clear to me since the first time I died was exactly how little I knew of the world around me. That needed to change quickly and thoroughly. If there was a rogue group of mages operating underground, committing atrocities under my fathers rule, I needed to know all there was to know about them, so I could eventually put an end to them. Lucius finished the sketch. He was decent with the pen: the symbol was an upside-down butterfly, impaled by two diagonal swords.


    "Why a butterfly?" I asked.


    "Whats the word for when they change? When a caterpillar goes into a cocoon?"


    "Metamorphosis?"


    "Yeah, that," he said. "Theyre obsessed with it."


    "Huh."


    "Buncha weirdos," Lucius added with a scowl, not seeming at all bothered to be categorizing his father under that statement. I chuckled.


    "Where do you hail from?" Lucius asked. "Seems only fair you answer, since youve been picking my brain dry." Mayas ears perked up.


    "Whitefall."


    "Capital city. So youre a fancy city noble."


    "Hardly. My family plays a minor role in politics at best," I said. It wasnt entirely a lie. For the most part, when something wasnt in need of stabbing, my father took a back seat and let more experienced men lead the country.


    "Military or mercantile?"


    "Military." That was true enough. I was tiring of this game, however, and took the finished page off the table, tucking it in my bag. "Thanks for this." Lucius looked over towards Maya, a warmness in his gaze, then back at me. He didnt have to say it. No one trusted a noble less than a noble.


    Once the smoke had cleared, the children went outside to play. Judging from how sickly pale their skin was, it had likely been a while.


    The immediate issue was getting them home. I had assumed my father sent search parties out to look for me, but knowing him, the opposite was just as likely. Hed see it as some twisted coming of age quest. The upsidepossibly the only upside of what had happened up until now was that my choices were limited. All at once, the magnitude of everything came in to strangle me. I needed to get stronger. My fire was an excellent start. Even at the apex of my strength, before Lillian was abducted and I let everything go, I doubted I could have stood toe to toe with an enemy like Barion. But what did stronger look like against an enemy as interminable as Thoth? I could train from today until my coronation, and still get swept up in the storm of her invaders.


    So, allies. But where to start?


    The elves would be a hard nut to crack. They had been fairly isolationist before we gave them a reason to recede even further into their strange, reclusive tendencies. It would be hard to pull the dwarves away from the southern mountains. And the infernals were likely to suspect I had stolen their magic and blame me for what Maya had called "The great division."


    And of course, there was the whole part where I was a child just over five feet tall. I remembered the height vividly because I stayed there for a while, not getting the final few growth spurts that pushed me a hair over six feet until later into puberty.


    Regardless, I needed to go home. There were a bevy of reasons, but most of all, I wanted to see my mother and Annette with my own two eyes. From there, I would try to convince my father that there was a war coming. That was a hard ask, but no one loved war more than Good King Gil. It wouldnt be completely unfounded, either, as there was the attack on the caravan on the way homespeaking of which, I hoped Uncle Luther was alive and heeded my advice.


    My mood soured at that situation. I had run away and left him. Would I have died if not? Probably. But all cowards have excellent justifications for their actions.


    Perhaps, I could claim to see visions? There were a few big events coming in the next few years. If I established veracity and made my claim early on, sure, Id be mocked and laughed at, but as things started happening as I predicted, it would give me much better leverage when it counted.


    Of course, that was assuming everything followed the same timeline. Which so far, it hadnt. If time functioned the way it did for Percival in the Chrono-Spherea work of fiction, yes, but give me a break, it''s not like I could draw from any actual accountsThoths simple act of stopping the Caravan and waylaying me would have massive and unforeseeable consequences. How much had everything diverged? More importantly, why had Thoth changed it? How had she changed it? Who the hells was she?


    "Any deeper in thought and you might fall in." Maya stirred me from the whirlpool of reflection, sitting down on the log next to me. Eliza was running from Victor, laughing, taunting the older boy, though it was clear he could have caught up to her if he really tried. She followed my gaze to them.


    "We did a good thing," Maya said.


    "Yes, we did."


    "Are you ready to have our conversation now?"


    I bit my lip. I needed to get this out. Waiting was just going to make everything worse.


    "Maya, Im not who you think I am"


    I trailed off, catching a glimpse of movement in the forest. A group of a dozen rangers bearing my fathers sigil emerged from the broken treeline. The search party had arrived.


    And my time was up.

 Chapter 18. Crossroads I

    Chapter 18. Crossroads I


    Maya bolted at the first sight of them, heading towards the children. A ranger burst out of the woods and tackled her. She yelped as she fell. The man must have outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds.


    "Hey Karyk, I think I found our rampaging infernal." He laughed as she struggled. "Someone help me get the manacles on before she sets me on fire."


    I stood, intent to run towards her before another ranger caught me by the back of my robe. "Easy lad." I twisted to try and free myself, but experience was on his side. He easily moved with me and tripped me to the ground, placing his knee on my back. He lowered his face so he could speak to me. "Whatever she told you, that one theres part demon."


    "Let me go," I commanded.


    "Thats a big tone for such a little shrimp."


    Maya scratched at them, angry and feral. The only thing that explained her reaction was that she must have recognized the sigil. One of the rangers backhanded her, hard. She spit blood onto the ground.


    "Might be more trouble than shes worth, this one." The one the other had called Karyk remarked to an old balding ranger with white hair who shook his head.


    "Fuckin demis."


    The amulet fell out from beneath Mayas robe.


    It was then, with horrifying clarity, that I saw it.


    I understood.


    How the compassionate person I knew changed into the person I met that awful night that changed everything.


    This had all happened before. It happened a few years later, but I had no doubt it happened the same way. Maya spent years fighting a Cold War with Barion, protecting and losing children she considered her responsibility. Maybe she found a way to beat him, maybe she didnt. Either way, Barions time eventually ran out and the rangers closed in. Maya spent years of her life trying to protect humans, and when help finally came, she was treated exactly the way she was treated now. As a monster.


    Who wouldnt be bitter?


    And then the right person came along with a cause and a weapon. A person with a reptilian eye and a hell of a grudge. Thoth went to the infernals and healed the divisionhow, I didnt know, but that didnt matterand brought back the fighters that had been sealed on the other side of the divide. And then they fought under her banner. Whatever the means, Maya acquired the flame.


    And became every bit the monster they thought she was.


    Fuck this.


    "Cairn, dont!" Maya must have seen it in my eyes. My fathers men looked around, confused, recognizing the name.


    I reached back with my spark and set the ranger on top of me on fire. He screamed, falling backwards as the fire ran up his chest. With what felt like a massive exertion of self-control, I recalled the flame, holding it in my hand. That overstrained feeling in my gut returned. Two archers drew their bows, arrows pointed at my head along with a half dozen swords.


    I stood slowly, nursing the anger deep in my heart, and spoke.


    "My name is Cairn of House Valen. Son of Gil. Prince of Siladon. And you will unhand my companion."


    The guard I set on fire moaned in the dirt.


    To their credit, they let her go almost immediately. Maya slumped to the ground, her hands still bound together in the manacles. She stared at me in horror and disbelief. Then her face scrunched up in rage. Far angrier than I had ever seen her.


    A hooded ranger walked past the bowman and signaled. They lowered their weapons. He stood before me and removed his hood. He was white of hair, his eyes a cool familiar blue. I recognized him. His name was Cephur, a captain in the rangers. When I was youngerolder than I am now, but still youngI would follow him into bars and pester him for stories of the Everwood.


    He had the folksy sort of accent youd expect from a farmer, not an experienced soldier. "Well, your majesty" He eyed my fire, the woods, and the bound infernal. "What we have here is one massive, honest to Elphion, gods damned mess of a misunderstanding."


    I told Cephur the whole story from beginning to present. Nothing about my previous life, but everything from the Caravan forwards. Several rangers were speaking with the children. Lucius was particularly animated, pointing towards Maya and the man who had struck her, letting loose an impressive string of profanity that managed to drift as far as the table. Of course, none of them bothered speaking to Maya herself.


    Cephurs brow steadily lowered as I told my tale, and by the time I got to the battle with Barion and the Demon he was outright scowling.


    "Id have to look at the body to be sure, but that sounds like a dead ringer for a hells blasted revenant." Cephur said. He tugged at his ear. "Last one was sighted more than two decades ago. You sure youre not spinning me a yarn there, your majesty?"


    I sighed, spent. "Just go look. Count the arms if you dont believe me."


    "Naw, plenty of time for that later. Plus, its not the sort of thing you brag about, fighting a revenant. Supposed to be bad luck."


    An unexpected laugh erupted from my chest. It was hard to imagine having worse luck. Maya glared in my direction, crushing the moment of levity.


    "What about this demon you mentioned?" Cephur asked. I bit down on my lip. I hadnt thought that far ahead.


    "It caught on fire and sunk into the ground," I said lamely.


    "I have no evidence that theyre even involved. All I know for sure is that they may be linked to someone who is."


    "Look, it all sounds a little unbelievable," Lucius said. I started to speak, but he stopped me. "But I owe you. You and Maya both, big time. Once I get home, maybe Ill stick my nose in, see what I can find."


    "Anything would help at this point." I held my hands out to either side. "Not much to go on. Yet."


    "Defusing a plot to overthrow the throne. Thats gotta be worth an appointment in the big city, right?" Lucien grinned. Unlike my friends before the coronation, his words held a hint of irony.


    "I rather think it would," I said.


    We shook hands and Lucien wandered off.


    I looked out Barions window. Maya still held herself tightly, eyes directed downward as the rangers milled around. I cared for her, but she represented a much larger problem. The infernals. They were a huge boon of power to the enemy. If there was a chance to take a single arrow out of Thoths quiver, I needed to take it.


    The solution came to me slowly. If I could get the infernals to take me as a ward, that would be the first step. The enclave was widely known for its magical prowess. I could learn from them. Maya told me that they needed dantalion flame to reopen the dimension gate. If I did that myself, perhaps I could beat Thoth to the punch and acquire loyal allies in the process. They knew as well as anyone that King Gil would not be king forever. The biggest limiting factor was the timeline. I drummed my fingers on the desk violently.


    I was twelve years old, about to be thirteen. My mother would die a few days after my eighteenth birthday. Giving myself a year buffer, that gave me approximately four years to spend with the infernals, ingratiating myself to them. That had to be enough.


    When I opened the gate, I would cash in the rest of my residual goodwill to get Maya or another life mage to come back with me and heal my mother. I would meet Lillian again and do things right this time. Then four to five years before the coronation and the attack. It was tight, but doable.


    But all of that would be for naught if my father waged war against the enclave to get me back.


    With that in mind, I took a piece of paper from the desk, dipped a pin in Barions inkwell, and began to write.


    Father,


    It is with a heavy heart that I greet you. For years I have slept poorly, dreaming of a woman that would bring our kingdom to ruin. Within my dream, I saw her unite all the Demi-human races against us and burn the capital on the night of my coronation. I disregarded them as mere nightmares and did not speak of it, thinking my dreams were nothing more than childish foolishness.


    This was a luxury lost when the woman who haunted my nightmares attacked the caravan returning from Inharion. Im sure youve heard her description by now. It is not a face that one forgets. I assume that you will also have heard the rangers reports of what happened within the Everwood. You will be delighted to know I have developed an affinity for an element of magic, making me the second wielder of the arcane within our family. It is both fortunate, and unfortunate, that the element I have acquireddemon-fireis exceptionally rare. Thus, I am in need of tutoring in my new talent in order to better aid the kingdom.


    It is with this in mind that I head to the enclave voluntarily and of my own free will. I have no doubt that your first instinct will be to rally the banners and set siege against the demon-kin in an attempt to retrieve me. I would beg you to stay your hand.


    You once told me a story of your time as a prince: Conquering of the mountain folk of the Elgan; How no one thought their mountainous strongholds could be captured. So, you rebelled against your fathers wishes and went to them as a man without a banner and learned their ways. Studied their strengths and weaknesses. And using that knowledge you were able to accomplish what no one else could.


    There is a war coming, father.


    I know it in my bones, as surely as the sun rises in the sky and the snow melts at my touch. Allow me to attempt to bring the infernals to our side as allies.


    By now, you must think me a foolish child, driven mad by nightmares and putting himself in peril for no reason. So, I will give you another reason to stay your hand. A series of predictions, based on my visions.


    Immediately, there is a scribe within the treasury embezzling funds. His name is Osiris of House Ren. Hes the sloppy sort of thief and should be easy enough to snare once you know where to look.


    Within the next three months, there will be an uprising in Topside. It will be led by a merchant named Rian, and if left unchecked it will result in a massive loss of commoner lives. He is a charismatic leader, inciting dissent at will, so if he were to meet with an unfortunate accident, I doubt the rebellion would proceed the same way. How to handle it is entirely up to you.


    Of more import, there is a certain plant that grows near graveyards. A golden flower. I would advise bringing it to the Royal Chemist and putting him in charge of putting it into mass production with help of the court alchemists and gardeners. When combined with zale root, it can be used to form a cure for advanced respiratory infections. This will be vital come the end of next year, when there will be an outbreak of gray plague all throughout Whitefall that results in a massive body count if left unchecked.


    There is more, but hopefully this will suffice for now. Please verify my claims, and if you find them accurate, allow me to work to bring the infernals to my side.


    I wish you the best of luck father.


    May the frost wane at your waking,


    Cairn.


    I placed the pen down, wringing out my hand. My young self was not in the habit of writing letters, so my hand had begun to cramp almost immediately. It would have to do. If anything would hold my father back from a fight, it was the promise of a bigger fight down the line.


    There was a knock on the open door. Cephur shifted comfortably, having donned his cloak and travel sack.


    "Ready to go?" He asked. "Ill leave some men behind to inspect the site, but I want to get these kiddos to the nearest town as soon as possible. From there, its you, me, and a couple others, straight back to Whitefall." He offered me a cheery smile. "Bet youre ready to get home, huh?"


    If only.


    I sealed the envelope and turned to him.


    "About that."

 Chapter 19. Crossroads II

    Chapter 19. Crossroads II


    Cephur was not pleased. His face scrunched up almost comically as I explained that I would not be going with them, rather, heading south, escorting Maya back to the enclave.


    "Let me get this straight. Instead of going home, you want to take little purple across the land, through the shadow canyons, to the enclave where youll what? Turn around and head back?"


    I nodded and he scrunched up his face. "You have any idea what your father will do if we come back to tell him we let you run off?"


    "I made her a promise, Cephur. Either we left together, or not at all. After everything we went through, I cant leave her now," I said, trying to project determination and command. Apparently, immune, he looked at me like I was an idiot child.


    "And I have a feeling, if I tell you no, like your father would want, youll be slipping away from us in the woods to get back and likely getting yourself killed."


    "Thats a suckers bet."


    "Gods dammit." Cephur pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Let me speak to my men."


    I sat next to Maya as Cephur conversed with his fellows. He gesticulated wildly, and I was sure I heard the phrase, "This fuckin kid," uttered more than once.


    "Will you be taking me back to Whitefall, your majesty?" Maya asked. There was more ice in her voice than the northern mountains. She didnt look at me.


    It stung more than I cared to admit.


    "No."


    "Then what do you intend to do with me?" She asked. There was real fear in her voice. I could imagine how it felt: finally getting away from one captor, only to find yourself in the grasp of another.


    "Ill be escorting you back to the enclave," I said.


    "Sure. Just like how you are an apothecary, or the noble son of a minor military family with little to no standing in politics." Each word was heady and bitter.


    "I will take you back," I said defensively, then added, "None of that was said to you directly."


    "It doesnt matter. You let me believe it." Maya withdrew into herself and maintained a stony silence.


    That was true enough.


    "Thanks for not calling the demon. That took a lot of self-control."


    "I thought about it," Maya admitted. "If they hurt you or tried to kill me, I likely would have. But the children were around. I did not wish to put them in harms way."This chapter is updated by


    I squeezed her hand, then released it. "Youre a good person, Maya. Well get you home. A couple of weeks on the road, and youll never have to think of this again." She hesitantly nodded, but the distrust in her eyes was plain to see.


    Cephur approached with two guards, and surprisingly, Lucius, in tow. "Alrighty. I want it on record that I find our current course of action unwise. However, as I cannot use force to persuade you, and the king would have my manhood at best, my head at worst, if I let his only son wander into hostile territory alone, that narrows our options a bit. So, weve got ourselves a posse."


    He indicated one of the rangers. One was a stout man, not so much fat as he was thick and wide. He carried a two-handed zweihander that reminded me of my fathers, though this mans was slightly smaller. "This is Orben. Hell be operating muscle for the rest of the trip."


    "Ello" Orben said.


    Cephur reached up on his toes to smack the man across the head. "Thats a prince, you lumbering dunce."


    "Ello your majesty." Orben smiled sheepishly. For whatever reason, I liked him immediately.


    Then, Cephur pointed to the other ranger. A woman, only about a head taller than me. "This is Tamara. Shes the best lookout a man could ask for and could shoot the filling out of a bear claw." Her dull brown hair was pulled back tightly into a strangely ornate bun.


    She inclined her head to me respectfully. "Your majesty."


    Next, Cephur indicated Maya, startling her out of her brood. "Little purple here goes by Maya. Just Maya. Not hey you, not "hey-pointy-head," just Maya. Be nice to her. If youre nice enough, she may even heal you if we run into trouble." Orben and Tamara shared a surprised look. Cephur glanced at Maya and she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. Councils still out on that."


    I was more than happy for the help. The idea of crossing such a large distance on our own was too daunting to think about.


    There was a sharp whistle. It sounded exactly like one of the many bird calls Id heard coming from the forest, the only differentiator was its proximity, coming immediately from my left. Tamara took her pinched fingers from her mouth, playful attitude completely gone. Cephur cued his horse with a slight tug on the reins and conferred with her. In a neutral tone, the same sort one might use to make idle observations about the weather, Tamara spoke.


    "We are being followed."


    "Any idea what it is?" Cephur responded, just as casually.


    "No. Theres only one. It doesnt seem all that large," Tamara said, then added, "by Everwood standards, at least."


    "Could be looking for stragglers." Cephur raised his voice slightly. "Alright folks. Tighten formation. If you cant grab the person next to you, you arent close enough."


    We pressed together. I was unable to see anything within the wood, despite looking in the same direction as the half-elf ranger. "How in the hells do you see something in all that?"


    "Its more straightforward than it seems on horseback," Tamara answered, never taking her eyes from the forest. "You can''t look for specifics. Just relax your gaze and look for anything that isnt moving."


    I looked out and realized the wisdom of her words. Though I couldnt spot it myself, if something was keeping pace with us, it would look motionless against the vignette of moving trees and green.


    "Good tip."


    "I live to serve."


    Cephur sighed at both of us loudly, and we maintained silence after that.


    After a few more tense hours the sun began to set. I sighed in disappointment. Despite knowing the size of the forest, I had hoped we would at least be close to the end by nightfall. We continued at a slow trot until we found a small clearing and stopped for the night. Tamara hadnt seen any more traces of whatever had been tailing us. Orben walked the perimeter of the campsite, threading what looked like silver thread in a large circle around where wed be sleeping. Maya pulled the binding from her hair and ran her fingers through it, then tied it back up and started setting up her tent. I was about to approach when Cephur caught me.


    "Give her time, lad. You just turned her world upside down. Twice," Cephur said. I scowled, not because he was wrong but because he was right. I just wanted to fix it somehow. If she was still angry with me by the time we got to the enclave, I wasnt sure what would happen. I glanced down at Cephurs sword.


    "Thats a cavalry saber, isnt it?"


    "Aye. I served. 23rd regiment."


    I needed to get stronger.


    "Would you train me?"


    Cephur rubbed the back of his neck. "Its an honor youd ask, but I dont know that Im particularly qualified. My brand of fighting isnt particularly noble."


    "Thats better," I said immediately. "Much better. I have no use for pageantry." I had no desire to fight duels or prove myself in the arena. More than anything, I wanted to be able to hold my weight. I needed to be able to do what Alten didsize up an opponent, immediately evaluate their weakness, and cut them down as efficiently as possible.


    "Is that right?" Cephur studied me, hand to his chin. "You know, you arent what I expected. Not at all. Its like a completely different prince walked out of that cottage."


    "Lets just say I have new and pressing insights of the things that linger in the dark." I said grimly.


    "Theres something to be said for that," Cephur admitted. "Alright. Tomorrow at dawn, before we set out for the day. Ill put you through your paces. But I wont be racing a broken pony. If you dont wake up in time, thats it. If you give up, thats it."


    We ate field rations around the fire, little square bits of dried meat and bread, then everyone retired for the night. Orben and Maya were the only two sleeping in tents. Cephur dozed lightly, propped up against a tree at one edge of camp. Tamara effortlessly scaled a large oak on the opposite side and relaxed thereshe somehow made it look comfortable, though I knew from personal experience there was no way that was true.


    I took the first watch. The vurseng still wasnt completely out of my system. It was one of those annoying substances that stored themselves in fat, thus for the foreseeable future, every time I was overly active it would be harder to sleep. I stared deep into the dark of the wood and watched for movement. But there was surprisingly little activity. Perhaps it was simply because this group was larger, or we were just closer to civilization.


    I found my mind wandering to Sera, of all people. The great downside of my plan was that it took me off the Whitefall board for far too long. Sera had elven blood. Her words had been vague, but I could read between the lines. At some point Father had an affair with an elfat least I hoped that was it: a nice, normal, consenting affairand he brought Sera back with him post-conquest.


    And Sera clearly had knowledge of the invasion and was complicit in it. How far back did her relationship with them go? I was angry at her, sure, but if my options were saving my sister or killing her, I would much prefer the former. Plus, to some extent, I got it. I was the firstborn and legitimate son, and I had been ready to throw it all away and never look back. And Sera had to work so much harder for even a fraction of what I had. How much worse was it for her?


    Maybe my absence alone might help. Perhaps with me not being there for a few years, Sera would step into a more central role, taking some of the responsibility in my stead.


    Probably wishful thinking.


    Familiar golden eyes stared out at me from the dark.

 Chapter 20. Crossroads III

    Chapter 20. Crossroads III


    I jumped to my feet and drew my sword. Tamara stirred above me in the tree, pulling her bow and nocking an arrow. I saw Cephur slowly reach his hand to his pommel.


    A shadow panther stepped into the firelight. My heartbeat picked up. I held my hand out and prepared to summon the spark. Then stopped. There was a section of burnt fur around its neck. In the panthers mouth was a bloody rabbit. My mouth dropped open.


    "Well, I think we found our follower." Tamara said quietly from up in her perch, arrow still held to her cheek.


    "Friend of yours, kid?" Cephur asked. He looked deceptively relaxed, face neutral, but body ready to spring forward the second it was required.


    " Acquaintance" I said slowly. I kept my sword out but didnt make any sudden movements. The panther approached me carefully, eyes never leaving mine. It opened its mouth and dropped the rabbit with a meaty plop. Then it rolled the small animal towards me with its nose. It rested on its haunches, ears flat.


    "Take it," Tamara whispered, "Its offering tribute."


    "Is that normal?" I asked.


    "No."


    I reached forward and took the rabbit. It was wet and sticky in my hand. Somehow, despite being completely lost, I knew what to do. Taking out the small hunting knife Cephur gave me earlier, I began to skin the rabbit. The work was shoddy and unpracticed but that didnt seem to matter. The panther looked on in quiet intensity. I cooked the rabbit over the fire, a bead of sweat trickling down my forehead. Operating purely on instinct, because it felt right, I halved the meat and placed a portion in front of the beast.


    The panther watched me silently. You first, it seemed to say.


    I dug into the rabbit. It was a bit overdone and still raw in the center. Only after I took the first few bites did the panther begin to eat. My companions were all awake now, watching the scene in reverent silence. The panther consumed its portion greedily, then rose to its paws, slinking into the forest with deadly grace.


    Cephur let out a long breath. "Aint that something."


    I woke at the crack of dawn. True to his word, Cephur was already up. He polished his saber, the burnished steel shining in the early morning light. Wordlessly, he shifted his head, indicating behind him. I stood and followed him into the forest. For a man so verbose he was quiet now, almost reverent of the forest around us. We entered a small ring of trees. The ground was uneven here, but for the Everwood it was as good of a training area as one could hope to find.


    Cephur drew his sword, and I followed suit.


    He then proceeded to demonstrate exactly how poorly prepared I was. He moved swiftly with the grace of a dancer. I could barely touch his sword, let alone him. Every exchange ended with the flat of his sword whacking against a newly tender section of my body. In casual conversation, it felt like Cephur could speak forever without tiring of the sound of his own voice. In training, his words were as efficient as his swordsmanship.


    Thump. The saber smacked painfully into my side.


    "Square your shoulders."


    Thump. The saber cracked against my ribs.


    "Dont telegraph."


    Thump. The saber bounced off my lower leg.


    "Keep your guard up."


    Thump.


    Thump.


    Thump.


    The last strike bounced off the point of my elbow, sending a shock of pain up my arm. I growled and walked to the side, trying to shrug it off.This chapter is updated by


    "Youre angry." Cephur observed impassively.


    "Frustrated," I answered, shaking out my arm, then returned to square with him again. We were drawing a small crowd. Orben had wandered over to us and smacked loudly on some rabbit meat from last night. Maya watched from his side, arms behind her back.


    Another flurry of blows too quick to track and the flat of Cephurs saber smacked painfully against my lower back. I walked it off, glowering.


    "Why are you angry?" He asked.


    Instead of answering, I darted forward with an upward swing. Cephur sidestepped easily; the saber smacked against my wrist on the way up and added to the force of the blow, unbalancing me and sending me tumbling backwards.


    "Because I held my own against a revenant. I should at least be able to keep up with you."


    "Apples to oranges, kid. Sparring and fighting for your life are two entirely different things."


    That didnt make sense to me. Functionally, the muscle memory and effort were the same. Sure, there was adrenaline to account for, but that should be moot gain as it affected both sides.


    "I dont really follow," I admitted, fending off an overhead strike only to be tripped with a sudden sweep. To the side, I saw Tamara wander in, stretching. That left only Lucius sleeping in, a noble through and through.


    "A demonstration then." Cephur sheathed his sword in one smooth motion, easily stepping out of the way of my incoming stab. He turned to Maya. "Little purple, short of cutting Cairns head off, if I wound him, youll be able to heal most serious injuries, correct?"


    Maya nodded slowly, not looking happy about it.


    "Let me clarify. Will you stop him from dying?" Cephur pressed.


    "Oi!" The guard turned back towards the gate. A small boy peeked his head out, no older than seven. "Go tell the duke his son has returned. Quick now!" Nodding curtly, the boy scampered off towards the only building big enough to be a Dukes home.


    "Well, come on in, sir." Rufus smiled a gap-toothed smile. "Bring your friends. Take em to the night market this evening. My wife will be there with the last of the winters crop."


    "Osellas got honeyed yams this year?" Lucius asked.


    "You know it, sir."


    "Wouldnt miss it for the world then."


    Lucius waved at random folk as we walked through the town and they crowded around him.


    It occurred to me, then, that Lucius would make an excellent leader. He was haughty and full of himself with other nobles, but so approachable to the guards and common folk that he knew the names of their wives and details of their businesses. There was a surge of jealousy. For me, there had always been a separation. I could blend in Topside as a commoner, but only disguised as a commoner. If I went as Cairn, the Crown Prince, everyone gave me a wide berth, guards included. Perhaps it was my fathers reputation.


    Or maybe it was much more likely that I had been an asshole.


    We were ushered into the Dukes mansion. It really was garishly big in comparison to the other buildings in the town. A butler came to take our coats. Maya shied away from him.


    "Shes fine," Cephur and I said simultaneously. The butler shot us a queer look but did not comment. A minute later we were shown into a seating chamber.


    "My boy!" Someone roared. Everyone jumped. Duke Desiric was a colossal, boisterous man with arms like tree-trunks. His massive belly hung over a long-suffering belt, and he was shockingly red of hair. He picked up Lucius and swung him around, laughing. Lucius face remained completely stoic.


    It didnt track. This was Barions fellow contact in the dark guilds shadow society? I couldnt imagine this man hurting a fly, let alone approving of human experimentation. Then again, I thought back to my initial impression of Barion. It was difficult, as Id seen him as a monster for so long. He had seemed totally innocuous. An eclectic researcher, plying his trade.


    My mouth turned downward. Perhaps I was too trusting. I would not be taken as a fool twice.


    Desiric plopped Lucius down. "Are you well, my boy?" He asked.


    "Quite well. Father, these are the people who rescued me." Lucius indicated Maya and I. The Duke somewhat blindly turned to Cephur, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. "I cant thank you enough, kind sir."


    "Actually," Cephur rubbed the back of his neck, "We were just responsible for the escort. The Crown Prince and Maya rescued your son."


    "Crown Prince?" Desirics presentation subtly changed in a way I wasnt sure I liked. He turned to me. "You? You are Cairn, son of Gil?"


    "Greetings, Duke Desiric." I offered him a false smile. "Thank you for your hospitality."


    "The gratitude is mine, my Prince." Desiric bowed low, his belt creaking mournfully. "Had I known I would be receiving guests of such high regard, I would have made better preparations. And for the prince himself to save my boy I offer my deepest thanks."


    "It was nothing," I lied. "However, my role in this was limited. Were it not for my companions healing and intervention, your son would have passed long before I stumbled into that accursed grove." Next to me, Maya shifted uncomfortably.


    The Duke bowed to me once more, then studied Maya. "Take off your mask, child, so I may look upon the face of my sons savior." The tension in the room suddenly grew. Maya glanced at me, her blue eyes terrified. I nodded. She need not disguise herself in this place. The Duke wouldnt dare mistreat the guest of a prince. Maya took a moment to settle herself, then removed her hood and mask.


    The butler gasped. Duke Desirics face paled. "An infernal," He breathed.


    Maya curtsied before him awkwardly. The Dukes eyes flitted from her face, to her horns, to the bandages on her arms, completely taken aback. Then he sat down on an oversized chair that must have been designed specifically for him with a groan, rubbing his face.


    Lucius started to speak "Father-"


    Desiric held up a tired hand. "Very well, child. What price must I pay to recover my fool sons soul?"


    I bristled. The Duke was referring to something that anyone with sense discounted as an old Uskarian wives tale. Several legends followed the same basic plot. The infernals ransomed the souls of kidnapped children. The parents paid massive amounts of gold or traded their own souls in exchange. But they were clearly tales devised to frighten children.


    Were these bumpkins really that superstitious? Slowly, the many ways I could leverage my authority to monumentally fuck up the city of Kholis began to run through my mind. My ire grew. I was about to voice it when Maya spoke. Her voice was measured and polite.


    "I would settle with a loaf of bread and a room for the night, my lord."


    I looked at her, surprised.


    The Duke was silent. Then he began to laugh, and, to my companions credit, none of them joined in. "You shall have it my dear, you shall have it. There is room enough in my home for all of you. But we shall dine on more than a loaf. We must celebrate!" Desiric snapped his fingers. "Ganthar, have the maids make the preparations for a banquet. No, a feast!"


    "Yes, your grace." The butler bowed curtly, all but running out of the room.


    "We will need to restock before we set off on our journey tomorrow, your grace," Cephur said.


    "Let me cover that. The Dukes credit goes a long way in these parts." Desiric winked. Cephur bowed shallowly. We were shown to our rooms on the upper level. Once out of Duke Desirics sight, I saw Tamara grasp Mayas shoulder approvingly.


    As I unpacked my things, Cephur walked in behind me. "What did you think of our host?" He asked, tone pitched low.


    So, he had seen it too. Duke Desiric played the part of a kind-hearted noble well. He was the picture of countryside hospitality and politeness. But no matter how animated he was, no matter how he laughed and smiled, his ash-gray eyes never changed.


    They were the eyes of a dead man.


    "The sooner we leave, the better," I answered.

 Chapter 21. Crossroads IV

    Chapter 21. Crossroads IV


    Kholis had a refreshingly cozy atmosphere. It was the sort of place where everyone seemed to know each other, and news dispersed instantly. Vendors in the mercantile district jeered across the street at competitors good-naturedly, and the smell of baked goods and sizzling meat had my stomach rumbling. Because of its size, wed been branded the rescuers of the Dukes son almost instantly and given something of a heros welcome: a truly inordinate amount of food was thrust in our direction and Cephur and I had received enough collective hey-there slaps on the back to herniate a disk.


    Maya constantly turned as she walked through the town, trying to take in all the sights, pausing at every vendor and inspecting every stall.This chapter is updated by


    She leaned over to whisper to me. "They are just giving things away."


    "So youll come back and buy more."


    Maya put a hand to her mask where her mouth would be. "Oh. They do not realize we are leaving tomorrow."


    "What they dont know cant hurt them," I winked at her. An older woman held out a gnarled hand to me as we passed. I received the proffered item automatically and looked down, shocked at my good luck. In the palm of my hand was a candied apricot, garnished with a salted pecan. I looked back for the woman, but she had already disappeared into the crowd.


    I bit it and almost choked on the perfection. It was the perfect blend of sugar and honey, with just a touch of thyme.


    "Elphion take me, thats good."


    "What is it?" Maya asked.


    "Ever had candied fruit before?"


    "I do not think so."


    "Allow me to introduce you to the height of human engineering and achievement." I handed her the other half.


    "This?" Maya said doubtfully, holding it up to her mask and inspecting it.


    "Trust me." I grinned.


    Maya lifted the bottom edge of her mask with one bandaged hand, careful not to show her face, and nibbled the edge of the fruit. She reeled back. "Sweet." She nibbled a little more. "Very sweet." Then she ate the whole thing, salted pecan and all. There was a temporary pause. "My mouth is confused."


    "Thats how you know its good."


    "You have strange tastes."


    "Hey, any taste is an acquired taste if you try hard enough."


    "If you live by these words, I fear for your stomach."


    We bantered for a while. To be honest, it was a relief to talk to her normally again. She hadnt exactly given me the cold shoulder, but she had been quiet and withdrawn. Id been afraid that would be permanent. Eventually, we came across a blacksmith, who also happened to be the only blacksmith in town. Cephur pulled the door open. A small bell jingled from within.


    "Come on kids, lets pick out some toys."


    I looked around, lost. Embarrassing as it is to admit, every sword Id carried up to that point put aesthetics over function. Not to an insane degreeId never do something as stupid as wielding a gold-dipped sword or a blade that had holes drilled so gems could be socketedbut my pommels had all been gaudy, elegant things, more hip ornaments than true weapons, my blades coated with oils that made them shine brighter.


    I didnt even know what type of blade I preferred. My current sword was somewhere between a saber and a rapier. In my late teens I switched to a rapier, then to a curved sword when those came into vogue about two years before my coronation.


    The blacksmiths selection was unsurprisingly limited: as the only smith in town, I had no doubt that the majority of his work went to outfitting the guardsmen.


    "Do you have anything with ascended steel?" I asked mindlessly, running my hand over the various pommels.


    "Nope," he answered. The man took a long draw from his pipe and let the breath out slowly. "Just iron and regular steel around these parts."


    "You dont want ascended steel anyway," Cephur pulled a small blade from a barrel, hefted it between his hands, then replaced it, moving on to another. "Any benefit gained in lightness and strength is outweighed by visibility.


    "Really more of a sword catcher." the blacksmith said. "The sword actually breaking is something of a misnomer."


    "Tell that to my last saber," Cephur said ruefully, "It got misnomered to itty bitty pieces."


    The blacksmith sniffed. "That speaks more to its craftsmanship than the sword breaker."


    I took the dagger from Cephur, hefting it in my hand. It was surprisingly weighty, thicker than most daggers would be. Its design was immediately apparent. It wasnt the sort of thing youd actively parry with; that would get you killed. Rather, if a sword was trapped against the ground or your enemy was off-balance, you could effectively grab their sword and create an opening.


    The memory of my battle with Barion came back to mespecifically the moment he ran me through with his rapier. Id done something similar with my own body. I was lucky Maya was there, of course, but if the weapon Barion used was anything other than edgeless, I may not have even made it back to the cellar for her to heal me. A shudder went through me at the thought, looking at the dagger in my hands. Yes. This was a much better alternative.


    "I like it." I decided. "The sword too. What do you think?" I asked Cephur.


    "I think theyre both practical. They wont draw attentionmost people will mistake them for iron at a distance, and you get a sword thats only slightly weaker than ascended steel. Plus, I want one of those sword breakers," Cephur emphasized the word stubbornly, "for myself. We should both get one. One, theyre awesome. Two, youve been needing a good backup weapon for a while now."


    I thought about the number of times up to this point my sword had been knocked away from me. He was right about that.


    "Well take them." But the blacksmith was no longer beside us. He had moved over to Maya, who held a black staff.


    "Ive never seen so much xescalt used in a weapon before," Maya said in awe, holding the wooden staff gingerly. It was smaller than the crude staff we had made her, only about three feet long. On closer inspection, it wasnt just wood. There were long segments of reflective dark metal in the bow. The closest analogue I could think to compare it to was a blackened bronze.


    "Aye. My pride and joy, that one was. The infernal swords are notoriously difficult to get right," the blacksmith mused, "It was too much to justify making a mold for one. So, I made this instead. Its not so different from military staves, only instead of a core of steel, I used xescalt. And thats not even the best part." He took the staff from her, held it in the middle, and twisted. It came apart, forming two smaller batons.


    "Amazing. Heretical, but amazing. The sort of weapon my family would never be able to afford." Maya said. Her statement seemed to confuse the blacksmith. "Well, yes. Xescalt is notoriously expensive and many would not pay much for a weapon that would be associated with demi-humans. Not sure about heretical though." He peered at her then, considering her mask, her bandaged arms.


    "Well take it." I said quickly. "That and the dwarven sword and two of the sword catchers."


    The blacksmith blinked. "I cant sell these things, young master. Theyre more art than weapons. And what would people say?"


    "Cairn, no," Maya hissed.


    "I beg to differ," Cephur said, "theyre fine weapons, blacksmith. Though Im not sure I can justify paying what youll probably be asking for a sidearm." Cephur said, flipping the sword-breaker between his hands experimentally.


    "Well, I can," I insisted. The blacksmiths face looked pained. But you can never underestimate the effectiveness of greed. I held up my purse slowly and clinked it, the sound of the heavy rods within it shifting together. He looked at all of us and sighed.


    With a bit of haggling and a promise to leave him unnamed, we left the smith one golden rod lighter. It was not an insignificant price to be sure, but the weapons clearly meant something to the man, and my mother had instilled in me early to never underpay for art.


    There was a lightness to my step. Acquiring new items was always something of a palliative for me. No matter the situation or monetary value of the item in question, striking a bargain and leaving with something new always elevated my mood. Maya, however, lagged behind us for the rest of the afternoon, silent and unsociable. A part of me sagged at that. I had thought she was warming back up to me, finally, but that was apparently temporary.


    It took a few more hours. We made sure the horses were being properly cared for and prepped to leave. My wardrobe was finally refreshed, and the clothes were serviceable. A step up from Barions robes, though significantly less glamorous than my usual attire. I bought a dark cloak not unlike Cephurs.


    The best purchase by far, however, were a pair of boots from a cobbler. I slipped them on, and my eyes nearly rolled back into my head.


    Padding. They had padding.


    Whoever the monster was that decided nobles should only wear delicate, thin-soled shoes deserved to be taken outside and bludgeoned with a giant stick. I laced the boots, then stood and rocked back and forth in them experimentally. A small moan escaped my lips. It was like standing on clouds. I would never take them off. Never.


    Since I was clearly making the cobbler uncomfortable, I paid the man, and we headed back to the dukes mansion. The shopping had taken longer than expected. I unloaded my new purchases on the floor and splayed out on the bed, delighting in the luxury of the mattress.


    There was a knock at my door.


    I opened it to find Maya. She stood there awkwardly with the staff held loosely in one hand, her tail wrapped around her wrist. Her jaw was set.


    "We need to talk," she said.

 Chapter 22. Crossroads V

    Chapter 22. Crossroads V


    I was never great at keeping friends. Real friends, anyway. The reason was illusive and it certainly wasn''t for lack of effort. Still, a pattern is a pattern. As the Crown Prince, I represented the future in more ways than one; it made sense that people would flock to me. Acquiring new friends was easy. Keeping them was hard. There was no contesting the fact that people entered and left my life with regular consistency, the only question was the quantity of time.


    One specific example comes to mind. Feran of House Morrow. A hundred years ago, House Morrow was known for their fierce spearmen. With superior reach and unrivaled speed, they were the match of any swordsman, and the utter bane of cavalry. In recent years, they shifted away from warfare to scribing.


    I met Feran at a royal ball. Both he and I were around thirteen years old and unengagedI did not have a fiance because my mother was opposed to the concept of an arranged marriage. Feran did not have one because, as the third son, his father had not bothered to secure a match. Thus, we huddled in the corner, sieged on all sides by a legion of noble ladies looking to take their proverbial shot. Neither of us were old enough to enjoy that type of attention, so when approached, we would go out, dance for a single song, then return to the corner, hoping if we remained completely motionless and talked in whispers, we would not attract the attention of yet another assailant.


    Nothing bonds people together quite like commiseration. Feran and I kept in touch. He was a bit bookish for my taste, I had to nearly drag him to the stables to get him to go riding with me, but eventually, he did. Annette liked him as much as I did and would pester me to bring him to the pavilion, so we could all play Koss. They would talk of books, and I would try my best not to fall asleep.


    It became wonderfully rout. Half our time spent doing what I preferred, usually exploring the city or riding, half spent doing what Feran wanted, spending time in his familys library or in the pavilion with Annette.


    But eventually, after maybe a year of this, the bounty of time we once had grew sparse. Feran claimed he was expected to take on more of his familys clerical responsibilities. He was still perfectly civil and promised to make time once his schedule cleared.


    But of course, that never happened.


    At some point, tired of feeling like a child chasing after an errant pet, I decided I would let him come to me.


    And he never did.


    We still saw each other at various gatherings and events, and he was perfectly mannered, bowed, and always said something to the effect of, "Its been too long, we must get together soon." And then we would return to our separate lives, as if our brief friendship had never existed at all.


    It took two or three more painful repetitions of this incident with others for me to recognize it as a pattern.


    "Its just a thing that happens to me."


    The words became a mantra. So, I stopped trying to make worthwhile friendships. I started spending more of my time with the sycophants and social climbers I so loathed.


    Because, at least, if nothing else, they were consistent.


    It was with all this in mind that I sat across from Maya. She had the same distance in her eyes that Feran had. Perhaps that sounds a bit silly, a prince, so dutifully concerned with the status of his relationship with an infernal. But it did matter to me, nonetheless. We had relocated to the Dukes aggressively upholstered upstairs sitting room. Large parlor windows let in rays of cool winter light. Mayas leg bumped up and down, the shadow bouncing against the back wall.


    I braced myself. "So, what is it?"


    "I am ordering my thoughts," Maya said quietly. The words left an uneasy feeling in my gut.


    Then, a few moments later, she slid the halved staff across the table to me. Then she took off her amulet. "While I am grateful for everything you have done for me, I think it would be best if we went our separate ways."


    I breathed a slow hissing sigh. That tracked. Of course she did.


    After all, it was just a thing that happened to me.


    "Can I ask why?" I said. My voice was cold.


    "There are many reasons." Maya said. She looked away. "But mostly it is an issue of trust."


    "Gods." I put a hand to my head, then gestured towards her. "We fought a monster together, Maya. We worked together and we brought Barion down. We saved your kids. We found you a demona good one from what youve said. What exactly do I have to do to get you to trust me?" My voice raised ever so slightly.


    Maya put both of her palms flat on the table. The muscles in her forearms strained with each consecutive point. "Setting aside that you have lived comfortably within the walls of an ivory palace while my people have scraped and starved, ignoring the fact that the men we travel with would have likely killed me had you not interfered, and overlooking that you are the son of my sworn enemy" She looked at her hands. Her voice quavered. "Setting all that aside. You have still not been honest with me."


    "Gods above, you are completely unreasonable."


    "It is not unreasonable, Cairn."


    "It feels pretty unreasonable."


    "What is unreasonable is being expected to just accept the things you do at face value and ask no questions." Mayas eyes burned. "You knew what Barion was. You knew about the children in the cellar and my relationship with them. You decided, arbitrarily, on your own, that you would escort me, a less-than-human as your people call usback to my home out of the supposed goodness of your heart-"


    "I saved you." I cut in venomously, but Maya barreled on.


    "So now it was you, and not us." Her eyes narrowed. "Most concerning of all, is that you hold the sacred flamethe lifeblood of my peopleand offer no explanations for it."


    "Oh, so thats what it is. You want to know where the damn fire came from?" I said, my tone dangerous.


    Maya held her hands wide. "Great. That is a great place to start."


    In a past life, you killed my damn sister. You burned her alive Maya. She screamed like an animal as she cooked. I didn''t even recognize her voice at the end. Burned me pretty good too because I carried her out to the fountain and tried to put her out. But I don''t have to tell you how that worked out, do I? You''re a fucking ungrateful hypocrite and you know what? I don''t need you. You need me more than I need you, but here you are slapping my damn hand away so get fucking lost. Good luck getting back to the enclave on your own


    I clamped my hand over my mouth before the bile running through my mind could form into words. What an asshole I was. I almost said all that. To Maya. After everything she''d done for me. So happy to finally have a target for all my hate and bitterness and vitriol.


    But then I saw the way she shook. The way she braced herself. The beginning of tears in her eyes.


    I recognized it. Maya knew my pain. She was expecting a betrayal. Had been, perhaps from the moment we first met. And now she was trying to hasten it, to get it over with.


    It was just something that happened to her.


    Slowly, one breath at a time, I let the venom go. The vengeful, bitter person from my first life had no place in this one.


    I sat down and began to tell my story.


    Maya didnt respond much during the telling. Her eyes gained this far away quality, and she fell completely silent. It was more of the truth than I would have dared tell anyone, leaving out her role in the sacking of Whitefall and the violence of our initial encounter. I told her that an infernal had murdered my sister to explain my exposure to the demon-flame, but I did not say who it was.


    Little by little, I felt the pain in my heart begin to lift. Even then, I think, it had weighed on me heavily, this terrifying secret, knowing it was unlikely anyone would believe me. I told her about Sera, Annette, and Lillian. I told her of the many times Barion killed me, culminating with the reason I feared her demon so. Wet streaks trailed down my face, my vision hot and shimmering. The tears continued to fall, spattering on the table in an arrhythmic patter. Still, her face didnt change, maintaining the same stoic stillness. I told her of the ravenous darkness in my mind after the demon consumed me, and how she had saved me from it.


    A single tear rolled down her cheek.


    "And so, thats pretty much the long and short of it. I understand if you dont believe me. Its a lot. But believe this." I took her hand. "Ill do whatever I can to restore your people, both now and when the crown passes to me once more. I swear it to the Elder Gods, Maya. All I want is peace."


    Maya considered my words for what felt like an eternity. Then the glaze in her eyes finally faded and she exhaled. The breath sounded strange, like a cold wind torn from her lungs.


    "I" She looked at me, looked at my reddened eyes. She spoke, voice full of sympathy, "Nilend, why is it so hard to tell me?"


    I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. "What do you mean? Of course it was hard."


    "Wait" Maya reached up and touched her own face, gingerly, "Whats wrong with me." Then she turned to me. "I feel like Im forgetting something important."


    Black tendrils of fear clawed up from the ether of my subconscious and squeezed. I put my forehead in my hands and forced myself to breathe.


    " Whats the last thing you remember, Maya?"


    "What do you-"


    "Please Maya, please just tell me the last thing you remember."


    "You sat down. And it looked like you were finally about to tell me the truth. Then you struggled and I asked why it was so hard."


    Suffer. As I have suffered.


    "I didnt speak?"


    "Not until just now. Cairn, what is happening-"This chapter is updated by


    Youre alone, little prince. So very, very alone.


    I stood suddenly. The chair toppled. My heart pounded in my throat.


    "I need to go."


    As I ran, a memory swirled up unbidden.


    Sera was in the castle training yard with sword-master Pitt. She was wearing banded leather armor and breathing hard, intermittently drinking from a water skin. I pulled myself up on the bench beside her. She studied me, annoyed, then ruffled my hair.


    "Whatcha doin out here, Cairn?" She asked. The end of the question pitched downwards instead of up.


    "Looking for you," I answered, happy she addressed me at all. I placed my small wooden sword across my lap.


    "Go play with Annette."


    "Annettes a baby." I scowled.


    "Youre a baby."


    "Am not."


    Sera let out a long-suffering sigh and stood, stretching her arms above her head and clasping her hands together.


    "Ready to get back to it?" Pitt asked, placing his flask aside.


    "Wait!" I stood, panicked.


    I held my wooden sword up, pointed at Seras chest. "I challenge thee!" Sera blinked, then laughed, long and hard. I crossed my arms.


    "Get to the part where I come in," I said.


    "Right. Well, you ran up, all upset like, and said, Its complicated."


    I put a hand to my head. Of course. What a fool I was to even hope. "Never mind. Just. Never mind." I walked from the stables in a daze as Orben patted his horse. The viselike grip of isolation returned, growing tighter with the rhythmic pounding in my skull.


    The physicians mouth was moving, but for the life of me I could not hear him. He shook his head, face mournful and oh-so-understanding. With a wet rag, he wiped traces of red from his hands. An endless procession of handmaids streamed in and out of the conjoining room. A pair of them whispered quietly in the corner, glancing repeatedly in our direction. The physician finished speaking and looked at us with insufferably practiced sympathy, waiting for a response.


    "I wont do it, gods dammit. Elphion take you and your family." Seras face was a mask of rage. She stormed away, door slamming behind her.


    Annettes hand was clenched on mine, her small fingers white, her face devoid of the slightest emotion, completely impassive. Her nails dug deep. A tiny red drop welled up from where her third fingernail had pierced the skin.


    "Annette," I said.


    She released my hand suddenly. "Sorry."


    My legs ached as I stood, having fallen numb for what felt like hours, my back and neck sore from staying in one place for too long. I couldnt remember the last time I slept.


    "Ill do it," I said to the physician. My mouth felt strange as I spoke, as if Id forgotten how. He nodded and took his leave. I looked at Annette. "Do you want to come?"


    She shook her head, a motion so small it was nearly imperceptible.


    "Are you sure?" I asked. The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was badger her, but it was necessary. "There may not be another chance."


    Another small shake.


    "Alright. If thats what you want."


    I walked down the hall, my very perception of it seeming to stretch and warp. The end grew further and further away. There was movement out in the courtyard and I paused to look.


    My father was out there, fighting the guards. This sort of sparring would have been nothing out of the ordinary, but today, he was unarmed and unarmored, while they used training jerkins and live steel. There were twelve of them. His muscled form strained as he pushed himself to the very limit, spinning, lashing out, spinning again. It was too many opponents for anyone to manage. A man rushed at his back, landing a shallow slash across his shoulder blades. Father spun, his face a mask of anguish and fury and charged full tilt at the man, grabbing him from beneath his legs and slamming him to the ground. Now atop him, my fathers fist pulled back and cracked forward, slamming into the mans face. The impacts were audible, even from a distance. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five.


    It took all of them to pull him off their fellow, pinning him to the ground until the rage faded. Father sat there, panting like a wounded animal. The man on the ground did not get up. My father laid back in the dirt, staring aimlessly up into the sky.


    Coward.


    With a deep breath, I stepped into the treatment room.


    Maybe it was a trick of the mind, but for a moment I saw her as she once was. Queen Elaria: hair blonde and lustrous, her face full and beautiful. But as I approached the bed, the illusion faded. Her shining blonde hair faded to a sickly white. Her face thinned, gaunt and bony, wrinkled skin drawn tight. I pulled up a chair, taking the cup at her bedside and using the small sponge to wet her cracked lips. She didnt move, her sunken eyes shut.


    "Hello Mother," I whispered, then cleared my throat, banishing the weakness in my voice. "The physician seems to think things are pretty bad. He said" I cleared my throat again. "He said your body is shutting down, but for some reason youre still hanging in there. And he wanted me to tell you something, but I dont think Im strong enough." I stood and paced the room, looking out the window again. Father had disappeared. Why wasnt he here for this? I paced back and forth.


    "Arent you supposed to wake up? Isnt that how it always goes in the stories? The parent regains consciousness, just before the end, and bequeathes some piece of wisdom to the child. Anything. Even just a word. Something for me-" I cut myself off. "Something for them to carry forward."


    I sat beside her again and took her hand. It felt so frail.


    "Can you squeeze my hand, so I know you can hear me? Or move a finger?"


    Nothing.


    "That thats okay." I leaned back in my chair, spent and exhausted. The words came slowly, agonizingly. "Youre my touchstone, mom. You always were. You taught me how to think for myself, how to look at the world. I know I promised I would be a good king. A kinder king. That I would rule with compassion and thoughtfulness. That I would be a better man than father. But I dont know if I can... because" The last sentence caught in my chest.


    Im so alone.


    Somewhere in the castle, there was the sound of laughter. It was a light-hearted and carefree sound. As if the world itself wasnt ending. I swallowed a sudden, irrational anger at the interruption.


    I chuckled, low in my throat. "But this isnt about me, is it?" I patted her hand. "What an asshole, right? Its the end times and Im still sitting here talking about myself." I squinted my eyes shut, trying to recall everything I wanted to say.


    "I was talking to a priest about the Elysian Halls. He said he said its beautiful there. Peaceful. Golden fields of wheat extend as far as the eye can see, broken up by crystal towers that throw prisms across the sky. Theres no night, no darkness. Your sisters will be there: Salwen and Kaari for sure so you wont be alone. Therell be music and dancing. I can almost see it."


    I choked, fighting to get through it.


    "Theyll theyll give you a harp, mom. Youll play like you always did, and blow them away. The worthy will gather from all over the astral plane just to hear it. And youll be strong. Just like you used to be." I placed my forehead on her knuckles.


    "The physician told me that sometimes, when a person is very sick, they hold on for the sake of those around them. That they feel guilty leaving. He said that sometimes, giving permission helps. Saying goodbye."


    I took a deep, shuddering breath.


    "If youre ready, its okay for you to go now."


    Please don''t go.


    "Sera, Annette, and I, we all love you. Were gonna miss you, but well be okay."


    It will never be okay.


    I waited so intently for the slightest movement, a shifting of her head, a squeezing of her hand. More than anything, I wished her eyes would open once more, even just for a second. I begged the gods for mercy, every single one of them.


    My shoulders weighed down on me as I stood. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned down to kiss her forehead.


    "Goodbye, mother. May the frost always wane at your waking."


    "And thats the whole story. Ive gotta bring the whole continent together under one banner somehow, and you and I are the only ones who know the truth," I said aimlessly.


    The shadow panther stared at me, intelligent eyes clouded. I had wandered out of town in a daze, directionless, my feet taking me towards a nearby patch of trees. The great cat had been napping in the sun, intent on following me for whatever reason but smart enough not to brave civilization to do so. I stroked its silken fur, letting my fingers run through it mindlessly. It licked my face. I poured some wine from a purloined wineskin into my palm and held it out. The panther lapped it up, then gave me a look that seemed to say: Really, you drink this?


    "I do indeed. Why was I so scared of you, anyway? Youre a big softie."


    It looked vaguely offended.


    A twig snapped. The panthers ears perked up. Another twig. And another. There was only one person I knew who was this bad at woodcraft. Maya appeared from behind a tree.


    "I would think by now you would have tired of trees." Maya scowled at the surrounding woods.


    "Thats true," the words slurred together, "But I had to confer with a colleague in their place of business." I held the wineskin up at her. "Want some?"


    "No."


    "Ok."


    It occurred to me that, in my panic, I had rushed off without giving Maya her cut. That was likely why she was here. I pulled out my purse and began to count, then gave up and tossed the whole thing over to her.


    "For your troubles. Should be more than enough to charter an escort to the magus enclave."


    Her lips thinned. "See? Thats part of the problem. Its too much. If this is going to work, you cannot keep trying to buy me, Cairn."


    "Im not," I said. Then I thought about it. The staff. To a lesser extent, the amulet. That had been exactly what I was trying to do. What I always did with my sycophantic friendssplash some gold around, and theyd follow me for days. But then the rest of what she said sunk in. "What do you mean, if this is going to work?"


    Maya crouched down in front of me. Her face was thoughtful. "How did you put it? Ah, yes. I am going to talk now. Just lay some things out. Let me know if I get anything wrong."


    I blinked, reminded of that night on Barions roof, surprised to hear my words repeated back so accurately. "Go ahead."


    "You know things. That much is obvious. Things you should not know. Things no one could know, yet you know them all the same." Her words were as sobering as a slap to the face. I sat up, mouth opening silently Maya continued, "But it does not come freely, your knowledge. It weighs heavy on you. In fact, I would bet all the treasures in my familys vault that you are somehow cursed."


    My chest tightened. She saw me. "But, how?"


    "After you ran out of the Dukes manor, I felt strange. There was this compulsion to ignore it. Were it not for the grandfather clock near the doorway, I may have disregarded the feeling entirely. But the clock had moved forward ten minutes."


    "You were missing time."


    "Yes. At first, I thought it was you. That you had cast some strange, unknown magic on me. Ridiculous, but you have done more ridiculous things." Maya smoothed her dress beneath her and sat down on the grass, reaching for the shadow panther. It growled, and she pulled her hand back, thinking better of it. "Then I followed you from a distance. I watched as you ran to our companions. I talked to each of them. None could remember the exchange. Then I watched as you spoke to the town-folk, each of them giving you the same empty stare.


    "It reminded me of a legend my father once told me. An infernal politician summoned a powerful arch-fiend for the purposes of making a wish. He wished to be the most charismatic man in the world. But there is a reason why arch-fiends are better left alone. The arch-fiend granted the mans wish, and took his voice as payment. The man learned to speak with his hands, but somehow his translators all interpreted his passionate words and inspiring statements in a flat tone, unable to express the music that made the mans words come alive." She stopped, her face wilting. "You tried to tell me, at the Dukes manor. You did tell me. But I cannot remember."


    "Yes." I whispered, scared if I said anything more, Mayas eyes would suddenly glaze over, and she would forget this conversation ever happened.


    "You are not alone, Nilend." Maya knelt in front of me and touched my face. A knife long-buried untwisted in my gut, finally coming free.


    Her face grew determined. "Tell me again."


    "But you wont remember," I said, terrified at the thought. Somehow, someone knowing that they didnt know was less awful than that person being completely ignorant.


    "Magic. Has. Limits." Maya emphasized each word. "Change your story a little each time. Lie if you have to, but keep your words as close to the truth as you can make them. We will do this as many times as it takes."


    As many times as it takes. I smiled. That was poetic, in a way.


    I wasnt alone anymore.


    So, once again, I told her my story.

 Chapter 23. Crossroads VI

    Chapter 23. Crossroads VI


    The process of trial and error was tedious. The sun had just passed its zenith when we started, and now slowly climbed back down, halfway to setting. In this time we discovered much: anything to do with "time travel" or living through some version of the future triggered a wipe, as did mention of dying. But, as Maya had suspected, the so-called curse did indeed have limits. After a number of repetitions, I could finally communicate the gist of it.


    Mayas eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "So. There are visions. But there are two different versions of them. One is farther off, and less accurate. Sort of an overarching view. In this vision, you saw the invasion and the demise of your family. The others are more short-term and give you an idea of what is about to happen. Like with the children in the cellar. Is that about right?"


    I felt light, like the world was no longer crushing me. "Pretty much, yes." Some part of me was incredibly relieved, realizing since this version of the story was "allowed," that the letter I sent the king would still accomplish its purpose. It was lucky that I assumed he wouldnt believe me had I told the truth.


    "Whats the timeframe of these short-term visions?"


    "Its hard to say." I thought about it. "When I first met you, Id say about ten days? But that was the first experience with the smaller visions. Its also not a guarantee. I dont always know when danger is coming. Theres a triggering event that has to happen first."


    Her eyebrows lowered even further, then she groaned, laying back in the grass and staring up at the sky. It reminded me of some of the first time we spent together, lounging in the clearing around the cottage, recovering from the days work.


    "Sorry," I said, "I know thats not really detailed."


    "Its not you." Maya reached a violet hand towards the sky, closing her fist as if to grab a cloud. "I am just wishing harm upon whatever god afflicted you. Is there a human god of vagueness?"


    I chuckled. "No. Closest would be Nemosis, goddess of mysteries."


    Still, I found myself deep in thought. Ever since the Caravan, there hadnt been much time to stop and really consider the larger implications of what had happened before. As far as I was concerned, there were two possibilities for what was happening to me. Neither was great.


    The first was that somehow, Thoth did this to me. I remembered the way she had cut her hand open and cast something on the knife she used to kill me. But that seemed ridiculous, bordering on absurd. An incredibly powerful leader? Yes. But it made no sense that someone would expend so much effort only to restart everything. After all, she had already won. It wasnt even close.


    The second possibility struck me as more likely. I remembered taking off my crown and casting it into the fire. How quickly it was consumed. I wish to live, freely and forever. I shuddered at that. It would explain why a god was angry with me, but on this, Maya wasnt entirely correct.


    "Its frustrating but I am grateful for it." I laid down next to her and stared into the endless blue.


    "Why?" Maya rolled on her side to look at me.


    "Because it gives me a chance to change things for the better. And not just for Uskar itself, though thats a big part of it. In the vision. I didnt like who I became. The person I was."


    "Were you like your father?" Maya asked hesitantly.


    "No, not that. Never that." I ran my fingers through my hair. "But I was bitter and spiteful. Something precious was taken from me. Something irreplaceable. And I just let the loss consume me until it was impossible to think about anything else."


    After a moment. "A woman?"


    "Her name was Lillian, and she was the first to die. She was really something." I smiled. "In the vision, I mean."


    "But, that long-term vision is not set in stone?"


    My smile faded a bit at that. "True. It could play out entirely differently, but I hope it wont. Her role in it, anyway. Other than the ending."


    "Well, I am convinced." Maya sat up, her face set. "If anyone but you had told me this, it would be totally unbelievable. But Ive seen it first hand."


    I followed her as she stood. "So?" I asked.


    "So, we are back on track. I will travel with you and the others to the Magus Enclave. Once there, I will introduce you to the infernals. I cannot promise anything more."


    "Thank you!" I nearly hugged her then, barely stopping myself in time. Instead, I stuck out my hand. She stared at it for a moment and then shook it. Her skin was soft but her grip was strong.


    Tamara chose her words carefully. "You snuck off to the woods with an infernal. The same one you moved heaven and earth to ensure we escort across Uskar. For the whole afternoon. Then both of you came back together."


    "So?"


    "And I just finished picking the grass out of her hair."


    I spat my water out, coughing, her implication suddenly made clear. Tamara waited patiently for me to recover.


    "Im twelve!" I glared at her irritably. Actually, now that I thought about it, as of today, I was thirteen, but that didnt seem relevant. Not to mention, theres nothing more insufferable than telling a group of strangers that today is your birthday, so they can awkwardly congratulate you out of duty.


    Tamara laughed heartily, "The fact that you even realize what Im saying is an admission of guilt."


    "Shes an infernal!"


    "Shes a young lady," Tamara corrected, "one who was just saved by a dashing prince."


    "Youre really barking up the wrong tree here."


    "Its a little early, sure, but theres no shame in exploring-"


    "Please stop."


    "We have a long trip ahead of us yet. Im just saying, if you have any questions, its one of my many areas of expertise-"


    I put a hand to my forehead. "Yes, yes, you will be the first person I come to. Gods damn it."


    Tamara sauntered away, eyeing me smugly. Elphions beard, that made me uncomfortable. Not to mention, she was completely wrong. Maya was wonderful, yes. An observant, clever, compassionate, wonderful person. My gaze scanned the room until I found her. She was sitting next to Lucius, intermittently laughing and spooning soup out of a bowl.


    It was funny how easily Id grown accustomed to her more alien features, after daily exposure in relative isolation. Her violet skin no longer seemed strange to me. The spiral, segmented horns atop her head, framed with long dark hair, were just another feature in my mind, like her ears or duchess nose. And her white eyes, though lacking any pupil or iris, were as deep and expressive as anyones, perhaps more so.


    No. Tamara was completely wrong. And Lillian was waiting for me in Whitefall.


    But can you afford to marry for love, this time?


    It hit me like a punch to the stomach. I pulled out a chair and sat down, feeling completely at a loss. Someone patted me on the shoulder and greeted me with a handshake, their face and words entering and slipping from my mind almost immediately.


    I couldnt, could I? The path forward with the infernals was clear enough. I was essentially following in Thoths hypothetical footsteps, leveraging their support from reopening the gate. The Dantalion flame would be key, and it would be as much in their interest to teach me as it was in mine. But everyone after? The light elves, dark elves, dwarves, pixies. It was a lot. I would have only a fraction of the time. It would be impossible to get them all.


    And a very straightforward way of aligning two peoples and resolving bad blood was through marriage. An old, familiar bitterness clawed at my heart. I pushed it down brutally. No. I would find a way. Id start planning early, and learn as much about the other races as I could during my time with the infernals. That was who I was, wasnt it? A planner?


    I sat down with Lucius and Maya, toasting them with my goblet, allowing the fear and anxiety to slip away. It was time to revel in our victory. We had earned this, at the very least.


    Still, I couldnt fight the feeling, somewhere in the back of my mind, that Lillian was already slipping away from me.


    Later that night, I returned to my room. The Dukes strange demeanor was at the forefront of my mind. I did not feel safe. I suspected I never would again. Looking at my plush bed and silken sheets longingly for a moment, I instead turned to my rucksack and reached inside. I pulled out the tobacco pipe I had purchased from the market as well as my vurseng. It supposedly left your system faster if it was smoked, rather than eaten. It was time to put that theory to the test. I doused the lamp, pulled up my chair to the window, and sat, watching and listening for anything out of the ordinary. This was going to be a long night.


    It was a little after three in the morning that I saw a massive, shadowy figure leave out the front door.


    I stood, sliding open my window and throwing my cloak over my shoulders. The Duke was on the move.

 Chapter 24. Crossroads VII

    Chapter 24. Crossroads VII


    I slipped out the window and into the night. Some part of me had wanted to wake Cephur or Tamara, but by the time I got them up and moving, Desiric would be long gone. It would have been wiser to communicate my intentions earlier, perhaps one of them could have slept in my room instead, but to be honest, I was exhausted from the emotionally draining element of the day and not thinking entirely clearly. It had felt like paranoia, staying up all night in the house of a fellow noble, suspecting foul play. But now, of course, that paranoia was vindicated, and I was once again on my own.


    The streets of Kholis were strangely empty: it was not uncommon for small towns like these to have little to no nightlife, but in Kholis, apparently even the taverns closed early. There was next to no one on the street. A low full moon reflected off slick cobble and there was a chill in the wind, whispering of a looming cold front. More discomforting, now that I thought of it, there were no beggars at all. In my experience, that was either a good sign for the health of a town, or a very bad one.


    Following the Duke in Kholis was very different from tracking Barion through the forest. While it was much easier to keep sight of him, by the same coin, there was significantly less cover. I had to follow at a much greater distance, moving between barrels and darting into the small side streets between houses. Every time I moved, all he needed to do to spot me was simply turn around. My heart hammered in my chest.


    After a few minutes, he stopped, seeming to pan the surrounding area. As he turned to check his back I dashed left to stay out of his sightline, rolling into the open mouth of a nearby storm sewer. A cluster of rats squeaked and darted away from me, further into the drain. I counted out five seconds and then peeked out, revealing as little of my head as possible.


    The street was empty.


    Duke Desiric was gone.


    I frowned. There was no way a man that big simply vanished into thin air. I kept low to the ground in a crouch, slowly walking up to the spot Id last seen him, approaching a decrepit-looking house. From within, I heard voices. I crept up to one of the lit windows, spying beneath the curtain.


    "Ive had enough." The Dukes voice. He was talking to a tall, spindly man with slicked-back hair.


    "Relax," the man said.


    "I will not relax," the duke thundered. "You told me you would get my son back. That all I had to do was keep an eye out for anyone new on the road.


    "And lo and behold, your son has returned to you," the man said, his voice dry and mocking.


    "Returned by Prince Valen himself!" The Duke hissed. "Do you have any idea what will happen if he calls his father down on our heads? Forget about the town and my son. Ill be lucky if I leave this place alive."


    "My benefactor accounted for this possibility," the man said condescendingly, "and it will take more than a kidnapped child to move Oath-Bane himself from Whitefall."


    "Why are you speaking for her, anyway?" The Duke griped. "Why doesnt she say anything? Shes just sitting there." He turned to someone out of view. "Well, girl, what do you have to say for yourself?"


    There was a blur of movement. One second, the Duke was standing in the center of the room; the next, he was slammed up against the wall, a familiar dagger to his throat. A woman in banded leathers with white hair pushed the knife forward, letting it bite into his flesh.


    "Who, exactly, do you think youre talking to?"


    Thoth.


    I clamped a hand over my mouth. The ringing in my ears returned, full force, as Thoths aura darkened the room. She was here. Shed been here the whole time. On the wrist that held the knife, I could see the tattoo, an inverted butterfly pinned by two swords.


    "Please, have mercy." The Duke shook like a leaf, all bluster and arrogance gone from his face.


    "My lady," the spindly man said, "Desiric still has a part to play. It would be wise to leave him be, if only for the moment."


    "We dont need him," Thoth smirked, pressing the knife in further. The Dukes neck was bleeding. Both his massive hands clawed at her wrist, fight or flight response taking over, but she was utterly immovable. "We already have a perimeter. Theres no need to drag this out any further."


    "As you wish." The man said. "But if you keep leaving bodies-"


    Thoth slit the mans throat. Blood spattered the wall and floor. Desiric fell to his knees, gurgling, hands pressed against the wound. It was like trying to hold water in a sieve.


    "-someone is eventually going to take notice," the man said with an irritated sigh. His gaze flicked to the window and I ducked down, my heart racing. No. No. I just got away from Barion. There was no way I was doing this again.


    "We take them at dawn. Pay off the guards. Make an example of one, so the rest know what happens if they talk."


    "If it isnt broken, I suppose theres no meaning to fixing it." The man sighed.


    That was more than enough. Carefully, barely even breathing, I snuck out to the street, counted to five, then started sprinting back towards the Dukes house.


    Cephurs room was closest to the door. I burst through it, my shoulder smashing into it clumsily and burning from the impact. The door hit something, and was immediately smashed back towards me, sending me tumbling back into the hallway. My back impacted the wall with a hearty thump.


    Cephur stood before me shirtless, his cavalry saber pointed out the door, eyes blazing. He saw it was me and immediately lowered his sword. I noticed the pillow and blanket on the floor behind him. It was an old mercenary trick. If youre in enemy territory or the town seemed strange, sleep on the ground with your feet jammed up against the door. Smart.


    "We gotta go. We gotta go right fuckin now." I whispered furiously, pointing repeatedly towards the door. There was the sound of footsteps coming up the hallway. Likely one of the servants had heard the commotion. Cephur glanced inside his room and back at me, hefting me up under the arms and dragging me into the room before the servant arrived.


    Being easily picked up by another person was such a weird sensation.


    "Whats up, kid?" Cephur asked. I found myself surprised. He didnt tell me to fuck off, didnt ask me if Id had a bad dream; he took me seriously from the start. But that didnt matter for shit if Thoth caught up to us.


    "The woman who came looking for me in the caravan is here. Her name is Thoth, and she just killed the duke, and if we dont get out of here she has men in position to kill us at dawn."


    In the background, I saw a person rise from the bed. I nearly jumped out of my skin but it was just Tamara.


    Oh.


    No choice. Id keep it as controlled as possible until I knew for sure that Maya was safe. On and off. No brushfire.


    I set the grass on fire and pulled.


    The fire filled meand then something inside me tore. I howled, driven to my knees. My vision doubled. The color seemed to go out of the world around me. The orange of the torches turned dull monochrome gray. It hurt worse than being stabbed in the stomach, worse than being set on fire.


    What was wrong with me?


    Wait, Id felt this before. After killing Barion I hadnt felt well, like I over tapped myself. Id assumed it was just temporary.


    And that assumption was going to kill my friends.


    I staggered towards the battle like a reanimated corpse, pushing my body to pull it together through sheer willpower. Four bandits chipped away at Cephur. He could have handled three, I think, but four was one too many. He would dodge, and block, and parry, and the fourth sword would hit him, drawing blood.


    It was the same as Alten, brutalized in front of me while I did nothing.


    No.


    I staggered towards them, circling so I approached from the same direction Cephur backed away from. In the background, I could see Tamara fighting two men with her short sword, tearing them apart.


    Time. Cephur just needed time. Tamara could help. Just buy time.


    I reached the closest man. For this to work, I couldnt risk hitting him anywhere that was armored. I drove my sword upwards in the gap between his upper thigh and ass. The blade went through disturbingly easily, vibrations resonating through the handle as tendons snapped. Blood spurted down the black-green metal of my blade. He let out a sharp shriek and collapsed. I fell on him, driving the tip of my sword into his terrified face. On the third strike I felt the tip scrape against the back of his helmet on the other side.


    I still couldnt see straight. In my double vision, two Cephurs fought six men, using my temporary distraction to dispatch one. My vision started to normalize. There werent that many left.


    We could do this.


    An arrow hit one of the remaining bandits in the neck. Tamara.


    Another arrow flew straight towards the last manbut it curved. There was a strong gusting wind and the flight path altered unnaturally.


    The arrow slammed into Cephurs eye. He just stood there for a moment, surprised. He reached up, his glove brushing against the shaft, then fell to his knees. The spindly man Id seen with Thoth earlier emerged from the shadows, hand outstretched.


    I saw Orben topple, his horse finally brought down, four men with spears stabbing downwards at where he landed.


    Tamaras scream was heart-rending. She fired arrow after arrow, each movement a blur, shooting faster and faster. But the spindly man held his hand out and simply caught them.


    Slowly, they rotated in the air, points turning to face Tamara. She dropped her bow, chin raised. There was the sound of whistling arrows again. Her body flailed as they struck her.


    But still, she stood. Slowly, she turned away from the mage, as if dismissing him entirely. She lurched towards Cephur. The thin man seemed to lose interest, and dropped his remaining arrows. For a moment she wobbled, then fell to her knees. After several halting sobs, she put her hand to her chest, withdrawing what looked like a small orb of light. It didnt look like a spell, or anything else I had ever seen. She reached out, about to hold it against Cephurs heart.


    Then the arrow took her in the side of the head. Tamara fell over limply.


    "Elves. Such idiotic superstitions," the spindly man said, his voice smug and superior. Hate flooded me. I could feel it circulate through my veins like an acid. Dying was awful. It never stopped hurting and it was excruciating and traumatizing. But I could survive it.


    This was something else.


    He held his hand out, plucking two arrows from the ground nearby and pointing them at me. "Put the sword down, prince."


    Sure thing, pal.


    I dropped the sword.


    "Thats a good prince." He walked towards me with a silky gait. "My benefactor has waited a long time to see you. Youve been quite difficult to find."


    I staggered towards him.


    "Oh, what have you done to yourself? What a mess."


    I tripped and stumbled


    The spindly man caught me.


    I pulled the sword breaker from behind my back and stabbed him in the gut. It sank deep, and he gasped in a pain I knew well. I knew exactly how it felt and I wanted him to feel it. Even as the floating arrows pierced me, I pulled my arm back and stabbed, over and over again.


    Somehow, he managed the strength to shove me away. I fell, the arrows in my back shoved deeper by the ground. The spindly man held one hand to his stomach, the other outstretched towards me. "I dont know what she sees in you," he growled.


    The wind itself picked me up. I had the sensation of floating on clouds before it slammed me against the ground, headfirst. Somehow, I stayed conscious. It slammed my legs down a second time and I felt my ankles break, the bones pulverized. Then it lifted me up in a spinning tornado, even higher than before and slammed me down one final time. I landed on my spine. Everything cracked. My left retina detached, the eye filling with blood. And then there was nothing.

 Chapter 25. Crossroads VIII

    Chapter 25. Crossroads VIII


    I floated through the dark once more. But it was different this time. I was not immediately yanked backwards and summoned to the land of the living. In the darkness, a figure came into focus. Not a person, but a great beast. It regarded me silently, malevolence focused on my very being.


    Why are you here? It asked.


    I wanted to tell it that I did not know. That it was not my intent to be here, that it was beyond both my agency and my understanding.


    But I had no mouth with which to speak. It turned away from me, and I was yanked through the darkness once more.


    The goblet of water slipped from my hand, pinging across the floor. Lucius pulled his feet up, irritated. "What the hells, Cairn?" But Mayas hand was on my arm almost immediately.


    "You are pale," she said worriedly, placing a cool hand against my forehead. Her brow knitted. "And running a fever, I think."


    "Vision," I whispered.


    "A bad one?" Maya asked.


    "Theyre all bad. We gotta-"


    But then, I stopped. The sounds of the surrounding feast slowly filtered into my awareness. We didnt actually have to go yet. The moment for panic and adrenaline had passed. This was different than with Barion. The starting period was much closer to the crisis point. I didnt have days to prepare, I had hours. I felt the gears shifting in my mind, cold wheels of pragmatism beginning to turn.


    Cephur, shot in the eye.


    I pushed it away.


    Orben, mobbed and murdered along with his beloved horse.


    I buried it.


    Tamara, shot full of arrows, killed moments before performing what looked like some sort of last rite.


    I let myself feel that one, just for a moment. Cool rage flowed through me like the wind of a hurricane. And then I buried that too. I looked up and surveyed the room. At a table by the corner, I saw the short man from the battle watching me. There was another behind us. Of course, Thoths people were already here. It made sense.


    I couldnt afford to panic or show anything that tipped my hand. Instead, I acted normal. With a sheepish laugh, I reached down and retrieved my cup, making apologetic remarks towards the serving girl who had come to clean up the mess. I tipped her a silver and she plied me with a surprised, "Thank you, milord!"


    "Of course, of course, thank you for accommodating my clumsiness." I smiled.


    Lucius looked back and forth between Maya and I, looking for all intents and purposes like someone had given him whiplash.


    "What the hells is happening?" Lucius whispered.


    "Were still in a cage, my friend. Still in a cage." I winked at him. His eyes widened in realization. Then his face relaxed and grew smug. It wasnt perfect, there was still tension in his forehead, but it was damn close.


    "And how do we rectify this situation, Prince Cairn?" Lucius asked. The way he used my title was intentional. He was deferring to me, expecting me to take the lead.


    Mayas eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room. I took her chin in my hand and tilted her head towards me, the same way my older, more amorous self might have done with a blushing maiden.


    "Dont panic." I said, staring into her white eyes, trying to imbue comfort, though I felt anything but comfortable. To anyone around us, it would have looked like I was laying it on thick. "We are being watched. The situation is difficult, but not unsalvageable. Now push my hand away and laugh like I just said something really awkward."


    Maya pushed my hand away and giggled. "Flatterer."


    Perfect. It was more than convincing. I shifted back in my seat to face Lucius. "Hypothetically speaking, how many guards in this city would you say are loyal to you?"


    He cocked his head, confused. "All of them."


    "No. Specifically to you. If, say, there was some sort of conflict with your father." Ill give him credit, his face didnt waver, though there were a million questions cycling behind his eyes.


    Lucius thought on that. "Five. Six at most."


    Not many. But better than what we had before. I leaned across the table with barely withheld enthusiasm, as if I was about to drop a particularly clever observation. Lucius leaned in towards me.


    "Promise me that you will not use it again." Maya said vehemently, entirely focused on me now.


    " I cant, Maya. Not with everything thats coming."


    "You could die," Maya stepped closer to me. I lost myself in her imploring eyes for a moment.


    It was strange how much my perspective had shifted from a normal persons. I feared death, yes. But I had also come to accept it. Death was inevitable. But for everyone else, it was the hard stop. There was no coming back. I shook off the thought, not letting myself think about Tamara and Cephur again.


    "Fine, I promise. How do we fix it?" I asked grimly.


    "There is no quick fix. Damage to the soul is not some simple thing that can be treated with a potion or healed by a life mage," Maya shook her head. "The Enclave can help you, if they agree to your proposition. Some of your human institutions might be able to assist, but I do not know of them. I only know the enclave."


    If the infernals did decide to help me, that would mean starting my time with them even further in their debt. Not great. But that was a long-term problem, I needed to deal with more immediate issues.


    Cephur had left his table with Tamara and was approaching us. Somehow, even in the middle of a banquet, he knew something was off. The mans instincts were uncanny.


    "Can you pass on the word to Cephur?" I said quietly. "Let him know the general situation. That my magic is sidelined. Well regroup at the Dukes house at midnight."


    The music picked up.


    Cephur reached us and was about to open his mouth when I spun Maya and released her, sending her spinning into his surprised arms.


    "Uh," Cephur said.


    "Teach Maya this dance, would you?" I flashed him a smile. "The faster ones were never really my thing."


    I left them and headed towards where Tamara drank alone at her table. In the upcoming sequence of events, she had the biggest role by far.


    I idled in an alley, several streets down from where Id first heard the exchange between the Duke and Thoth. I fiddled with the two copper rods in my pocket, trying not to think of what I intended to use them for.


    Everything had gone smoothly up to this point. With the guards Lucius provided, the coup went quickly and easily, but this was a small town, so that was to be expected. Duke Desiric was held hostage in his quarters, clearly unhappy with the series of events, but transferred command of the town guard to Lucius, and by extension, us. We kept it relatively small. The guards involved were instructed to stick to their usual duties, then meet us at the gate at the chosen time, a little after four in the morning.


    Only, it had been an hour and a half now. My teeth chattered from the breezy chill in the air.


    There were two different ways this could go:


    If Thoth came out first, it was the worst outcome. Less likely but entirely possible as shed shown herself as completely unpredictable, time after time. If that happened, wed cut our losses and evacuate, heading back towards the Everwood.


    If the thin man came out firstsent by Thoth to look into the Dukes absence from the meetingthen it was game on. There was no winning against Thoth. But the upside was, Thoth seemed to be taking a hands-off approach. She hadnt shown up at the ambush point, the spindly man had. If we could isolate her from her allies and make the whole thing seem like more trouble than it was worth, maybe that would be enough to dissuade her, at least for the moment.


    The unfortunate fact was, if we did it right, no one was coming out of this clean. I hadnt forgotten the way all three of the rangers had looked at me, their eyes troubled and uncomfortable. Thankfully, Maya had been there to vouch for the veracity of my visions, citing the encounter with Barion, so they didnt think me mad, just


    What? Dishonorable? Monstrous?


    I didnt know. That was okay. They hadnt seen what I had seen. This had to be done.


    But so far, neither of them had moved. They were both still in the house, and I was freezing my ass off in an alley.


    Sharp and crisp, the call of a night lark echoed from somewhere far away.


    Finally. That was the signal.


    I took in several deep breaths, centering myself, then stepped out into the open.


    The spindly man stopped in his tracks. I took off my hood. We stood across from each other, maybe fifteen feet apart, only the moon illuminating our presence. I was careful not to make any sudden movement, anything that would spook him.


    Then, I spoke the words that would both ensure victory and forsake honor.


    "This is a bit unfair, but Ive lived this life before."

 Chapter 26. Crossroads IX

    Chapter 26. Crossroads IX


    "And thats the end of the story." Mother flipped the book closed and kissed me on the forehead. She poked at my cheek when I didnt respond. "Whats wrong, darling?"


    I frowned, fiddling with my bed sheets. "Why didnt Sir Savien just kill the bad guy earlier, before he hurt everyone?"


    "Well, Sir Savien couldnt be sure. The villain made threats and boasted, but many people do such things." Mother shrugged.


    "But it was so obvious," I groaned. "By doing nothing, Sir Savien practically killed those people himself."


    "Now, that is more of a question for a philosopher than it is for me," Mother said wryly.


    "It just doesnt make for a very good story," I insisted.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    "If Sir Savien had killed Lord Astra outright, he wouldnt be the hero of the story, he would be the villain, a man willing to strike out with violence at the first sign of opposition."


    "But what if he knew? Really knew. Beyond a shallow of a doubt."


    "You mean a shadow of a doubt?"


    "Yes," I grumbled. My mother set the book aside on the nightstand and sat me up, looking deep into my eyes.


    "Darling, one day you will be king. You may have to make decisions that decide the life and death of others. In the moment, such decisions are never easy. It is one thing to slay an opponent in battle. Another entirely to murder him in his bed. And another still to inflict pain on him when you know he is beaten.


    "Even if you know that hes evil?"


    "Even if. You must be better than evil men, child. Even if that decency costs you dearly. You must be better. Otherwise, the only difference between a hero and a villain is the lens they are viewed with."


    "This is a bit unfair, but Ive lived this life before."


    It wasnt as effective as I would have hoped. The spindly mans eyes glazed over for just a moment, then snapped back, alert and alarmed. There was a blur of motion as he reached up to his right, his hand forming the focal point. He caught an object thrown at him, a large rock, slightly bigger than a fist.


    But he missed the arrow. It shot from the opposing alley, less than a foot from the ground and blisteringly fast, piercing his ankle. He looked down at it and blinked in confusion.


    Then he collapsed to the ground. The paralytic worked fast, but such a small dose would be out of his system just as quickly. Orben jumped down from the rooftop, landing with a dull thump. Tamara stood, brushing off the detritus she had camouflaged herself with. With no comment or fanfare she grabbed the reed-thin man from under his armpits and dragged him into a nearby alley.


    For once, Orben was not smiling.


    I didnt blame him. There was no honor in this. Orben kept watch from the mouth of the alleyway as Tamara drug the man deeper in. I pulled the two copper rods from my pocket. Cephur patted Orben on the back as he entered the alleyway, his blue eyes cold and hard. He had served as the lookout for our little ambush and given me the signal.


    "Let me do this, your grace," Cephur said slowly, "this isnt a burden a boy should bear. Even a prince."


    "Im sorry."


    I plunged the knife into the spindly mans heart. He gasped, then fell silent. The light behind his eyes flickered out, his mouth open in a silent "o." Blood trailed down from the knife and trickled onto the ground.


    It was done.


    I felt sick.


    Not fully understanding why, I placed the two coppers in his pocket anyway. While I could not offer the tribute properly without his name, maybe the gods would understand.


    We found the encampment in a little more than an hour. Cephur instructed Maya and I to wait and only intervene if things got out of control. The four guards Lucius had drummed up had switched from their plate into leather reconnaissance armor and trailed behind the three rangers. Tamara popped up from the tall grass and pulled one of the lookouts down with her, and Cephur grabbed the others mouth roughly, sword emerging from the mans chest.


    Then someone shouted and the battle began in earnest. The four guards had nowhere near the combat training of the rangers but still held their own against the bandits, many of whom seemed to have never been in a real fight. That in and of itself surprised me. Id imagined Thoth to be this immovable force, capable of bending thousands to her will, but her initial forces seemed weak. It was strange that neither the giant nor the man in the cowl had shown up either time.


    One of the guards was toppled by a bandit. He was under attack by the short man from last time, the one that was also spying in the corner of the banquet hall. I rushed forward to cover the man, feeling the weight of my new sword in my hand. Before he could stab down at the guard on the ground, I swung wide. He stepped backward just in time, his arms waving wildly, trying to regain his balance. Then he took in my diminutive form and grinned. He raised both arms overhead and brought the sword down in a vicious blow. Had it connected, it would have split my head open.


    But compared to Cephur, this man was slow. Almost painfully slow. I shifted to the side, watching the blade pass me by analytically. There was something wrong with his movements. Then it hit me.


    His sword was too heavy for him. Not by much, maybe half a pound at most, but the unwieldy weight led to a clumsy follow-through. That gave me a clear weakness to exploit. He swung at me again and I ducked underneath, feeling the steel whistle over my head. I baited him into another overhand strike, and as soon as he was fully committed to the blow, swung my sword upwards towards his descending head. The dark-green blade caught him in the throat, and he went down soundlessly.


    The glow faded from Mayas bloodied hands as she finished healing the guard. He stood, nodded at her, and rushed back into the fight. Only, it had shifted so far into our favor it was hard to call it a fight. Nine men had already fallen, and five more struggled. An arrow took one in the throat. Cephur hounded down a fleeing archer mercilessly, cutting him down at the knees and slicing through the point where his neck met his skull. Orben punched a bandit with his gauntleted arm and the man careened face-first into the muddied ground.


    The two remaining men threw down their weapons and sprinted away, retreating towards the forest. Tamara pulled her bowstring to her cheek, preparing to fire.


    "Let em go, Tams." Cephur said. He wiped his sword on the grass, cleaning off the red. "Theyre beaten." He took one more look around and turned to walk towards Maya, who had retreated to the small hill overlooking the clearing.


    Slowly, Tamara released the tension from the bow string and replaced the arrow into her quiver.


    I looked around at the bodies and the carnage. Twelve of them. Unbidden, memories of Inharion village came to mind. This was different, I knew that. They had been out for our blood. If given the chance, they absolutely would have killed us first.


    A dull moan carried to me on the wind. I followed the sound across the battlefield and came across a heavily wounded bandit that clutched his chest. His eyes were wide.


    "Help me," he said. "Please help. Im cold."


    I pulled my sword breaker and helped him in the same way Alten had aided me, ending the night of the invasion. There was no denying that I hated these men and the woman behind them. But there was no need for them to suffer.


    After Id cleaned my dagger with an old rag, I nearly turned back to the others when my eyes crossed over a shadowy figure, camouflaged almost perfectly in the darkness of the night, standing completely still. I started and drew my sword.


    "Whos there?" I asked. But in my sinking heart, I knew the answer even before I saw the eye.


    "Youre different this time," Thoth whispered gleefully.

 Chapter 27. Crossroads X

    Chapter 27. Crossroads X


    It''s funny how drastically a single digit can alter the whole. The difference between a hundred slivers of gold and a hundred-ten can be what separates a good deal from a great one. The importance of the number increases exponentially depending on the topic at hand. Two thousand soldiers lost, versus three thousand; both numbers, while harrowing, are somehow dwarfed in the raw magnitude of losing one child, or two.


    That night was the source of my compulsion, I think. You see, these days, I count things. There are thirty-two iron bars on that cell wall for instance, thirty-six if you count the cross beams. There are one-hundred-twenty-five tiles within this cell, thirty-four of them cut down to fit the perimeter flush, eight of them warded. It''s just something a part of my mind does naturally, now.


    What I learned that night was that I could not afford to be imprecise. And the gap, between fourteen people and fifteen, could make all the difference in the world.


    "Youre different this time," Thoth repeated, her serpentine eye glowing slightly in the dark.


    I gritted my teeth. Despite everything I had done, every calculation, here we were again, faced off once more. Fear poured down the back of my neck in waves, prickling my skin. The thick black aura radiated from her.


    Further down the field, Tamaras lithe form appeared, bow drawn and pointed at Thoths back. I shook my head at her minutely, hoping the fabled elven keensight was more than a folktale. Somehow, I knew, even now, how easily Thoth could slaughter us. Tamara kept the bowstring taut to her cheek but did not fire.


    Thoth stepped forward into the firelight and I backed away, maintaining the same distance. The sword in my hand suddenly felt useless as a childs toy. Her expression was strangely troubled.


    "Ive never seen you like this, not this early." She contemplated as she spoke, almost chewing the words. "You always change. But not like this." Her cold eyes searched me, and wordlessly, I could feel that an explanation was demanded.


    Of all people, Thaddeuss words came to mind. A small piece of advice hed given me years ago:


    Deny, deny, deny.


    "And who are you supposed to be?" I asked, letting the mask of the arrogant noble slide into place. Thoth blinked, then laughed. It was a harsh and acrid sound.


    "It still catches me off-guard, even after all these years. The little stage-plays you put on in your head. No. You know me."


    Deny, deny, deny.


    "I know you attacked my caravan, forcing me to flee into the Everwood. And that you have some sort of relationship with the Dukes little torture cult. Other than that, Im a little lost." I smirked at her, though the expression felt trite and forced. "Perhaps if you just told me what you wanted, I could help you."


    "I do not need help from the likes of you!" Thoths anger flared. It was a terrifying outpouring of emotion that seemed to blacken the night itself.


    I took a half step backwards. It was the first time Id seen her truly enraged. Even when shed murdered the Duke, it had never felt so explicit. Instead, it simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the moment it could finally catalyze and turn to deadly violence. But now she wore that violence like a shroud.


    "Okay." I said, changing tact. Glibness could only hurt me here. Instead, I donned the same sort of reverent deference I used when I approached the shadow panther. Her anger flagged slightly, shifting into confusion.


    "Youre becoming quite a thorn in my side, Cairn." Thoths anger mostly dissipated, gone as quickly as it had come. She paced back and forth around me in a half-circle. It was all too reminiscent of that first encounter in the pavilion. I tried not to think of it. The way she killed my father. Annettes skin, bubbling. My fingers breaking as I slammed my fists against the ice of the fountain. The knife in my chest.


    Tamara had picked up on my signal to hold and did not approach. But where were the others? I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of their locations


    "Dont look at them. Look at me," Thoth commanded. I obeyed, eyeing her silently. She froze in mid-pace, unsettled by my reaction, then returned to the movement, lips pulled down in a scowl.


    "No witty rejoinder? No jokes? No angry declarations or pointless diatribes? Its all wrong. No. Youre different. You know something."Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I stayed silent. There didnt seem to be much I could add to the conversation, other than potentially angering her. The best course of action seemed to be continuing to plead ignorance.


    Thoth suddenly grabbed me around the neck and held a dagger to my throat. The steel bit in lightly. I saw Tamara stir in the corner of my vision, taking a step forward. Again, I minutely shook my head. Thoths eyes searched mine, her face perilously close. She smelled of death and white roses.


    Unless you kill yourself.


    The thought was so sudden and intrusive I nearly lost my footing. No. I had no guarantee killing myself would even work. Even the thought of it sent pale beads of sweat down my back.


    Another arrow arced over my head. This one stopped, twisting in the air and plunging towards my feet. I spun away from it, tripping, bloodying my hands as I pushed off the ground and scrambled up, trying to regain momentum as quickly as possible.


    Come on, dammit.


    My legs were so damn small and slow. The bandit stepped around the tree smoothly, his sword raised high, threatening to strike down at Maya and Cephur any moment. My heart sank. I was still twenty, thirty yards out. There was no way Id make it. There was a sudden blur of light above me as a fiery arrow shot through the air. This time it wasnt aimed at the bandit, rather shot up in the air as high as possible.


    A signal.


    Cephurs head jerked upwards, towards the beacon. The bandit paused at the light and sudden movement.


    At that moment I could have kissed Tamara. She could have her pick from the royal treasury. A writ of nobility. Anything she wanted.


    But the sense of relief only lasted a moment. Cephur turned in the wrong direction to look and the banditnow assassin, raised his sword, preparing to strike at Maya.


    Too far away. So close, but still too far. Even if I used my demon-fire it wouldnt make a difference.


    Or would it?


    I remembered, in those few precious seconds, everything I had seen during the invasion. The infernals hadnt been touching their targets. The fire streamed from them sometimes, but mostly, it was sent forth with pinpoint precision, almost like a whip.


    Of course, that meant Id be breaking my promise to Maya.


    No choice. I summoned my spark and set a trail of grass on fire. I braced myself for the pain, the utter agony. Then I pulled. The sensation of tearing ripped through my chest like my skin was being flayed to the muscle. I screamed, my voice still soundless.


    Somehow, I held the flame within me still, even as it ate at me hungrily. Cephur finally spotted the man and drew his sword, preparing to leap forward, but he was too slow. The bandits sword came down. Maya stumbled backward and fell. I thrust my hand forward and visualized a tunnel, almost a cylinder connecting the focus point of my fingers to the mans head.


    A flash fire broke out on the mans skull. He opened his mouth to scream but the fire was too concentrated. His head seemed to shift and lose shape, spontaneously turning to ash.


    Darkness closed in on me, my vision tunneling. But it did not matter. I made it in time. Maya looked at the man and back to me, horrified.


    "Cairn, no!"


    A flood of foul-tasting liquid gushed from my nose and mouth. It was thick and tasted of iron. I held a shaking hand to my dampened face and looked at it, my vision doubled. Blood. My blood, mixed with something dark and blue.


    Not good.


    I looked behind me. There was no one else but Tamara jogging our way. Thoth was gone.


    I smiled at Maya then. She was safe. They were all safe.


    "Sorry I lied"


    The weight of standing suddenly became too much. I slumped to my knees and coughed. My vision left me as I crumpled to the ground.

 Chapter 28. Crossroads XI

    Chapter 28. Crossroads XI


    My vision faded in and out. One moment I was beside Cephur, Maya under my arm, supporting me as I staggered towards a horse. I blacked out. When I came to, Orben was carrying me on his back through the city walls. Through the blurry haze, Tamara saw me open my eyes and waved a small wave, her face rife with concern. I tried for a smile, but my vision faded once more.


    Thoths parting words needled at me, lurking in the dark parts of my psyche, taunting.


    Ill let you go. But theres a price. Ill take something from you, and you wont even know what it is until its gone.


    It wouldnt be an object. Sad as it was to say, there really wasnt all that much in my life I cared for. That left people. My father was unlikely. Our antagonistic relationship was a matter of public record. Lillian was just as unlikely, albeit for a different reason. She just wasnt that well known. Our courtship was very private, and until the night of the coronation most had never heard her name. Maybe Sera, if Thoth didnt know me as well as she thought she did. But my Mother and Annette came to mind immediately as the most likely targets. The thought of losing either of them, after everything Id done to survive up to this point, was staggering. But there was a third possibility. Thoth seemed to have future knowledge. She constantly referred to it. It was entirely possible that she would take steps to eliminate something that could help me in the future. But worrying about something as nebulous as that would drive me mad. I needed to send another letter to the capital, get my father to increase the guard detail around my sister and mother.


    If only I could stay conscious long enough to do so.


    A single lumen lamp floated above me, bright and uncomfortable. I was supine on a physicians table, unclothed from the waist up. The man poked and prodded at me with frigid hands. My consciousness ebbed and flowed.


    "massive internal bleeding. Youre saying magic did this?"


    "severe soul damage," Mayas voice. "cobalt phosphorus, anything to staunch it temporarily while we travel"


    Despite the pain, I smiled a bit. Excellent diagnosis. Maya had really taken the apothecary lessons to heart.


    "That aint happening." Cephur cut in. "I was fine with this little quest of ours until the Crown Prince of Uskar started bleeding out of his eyes"


    "At this point, were closer to the magus enclave than we are to any other institution," Tamara said, "Its three days from here if we push it. The closest human institution would be the Magicians College, and thats fourteen days of crippling horses from hard riding, the sort of trip that would be tough for a child even if he wasnt injured"


    "That wont matter if they just kill em." Cephur said vehemently. "Sorry little purple, but your folk and mine havent exactly been on friendly terms over the last century"


    "I wont let them!" Maya shouted. The arguing quieted at that, all voices ceasing.


    "Youre young, Maya," Tamara said in a soothing voice. "It wouldnt be your call."


    "I will stake my life on it." Maya snapped. There was a foreign sensation. I looked down to see her tail had wrapped around my ankle protectively. "My family is politically neutral between the factions. If I bring him in under the Rite of Shaliat, then that would ensure his life, at least long enough for him to recover."


    Orben had turned away from the others and studied me thoughtfully, seemingly the first one to notice I was awake again. "What do you think?" He asked me. I thought of what Id done to the man in the alley.


    "Weve come too far to go back now." My voice was unsteady. My chest hurt from the vibrations of simple speech. I pushed myself up with one arm, ignoring the flaring pain. "Cephur, the infernals are the closest thing to an authority on the soul that Uskar has. Beyond that, its hard to explain, but please trust me for now. There are things I must do there. Its too important to play it safe."


    "Is it more important than your life?" Cephur challenged.


    "Yes," I said immediately. What good was my life if I lost everyone around me?


    Cephur stared for a moment, then shook his head and chuckled. "What kind of kid are you supposed to be, anyway?"


    The physician gave me strained poppy for the pain, as well as cobalt phosphorus for the bleeding. I could walk, but it was as if my legs had forgotten the motions. The slightest distraction or change in elevation and I would lose my balance, threatening to topple over.


    Lucius outfitted a carriage for us personally, waking a wheelwright to make modifications to the interior to make the ride smoother. He grabbed me by the arm to help me into the carriage.


    "Im going to need you to get better. Theres no honor exacting revenge on a sick man," Lucius said.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I started to laugh, then immediately groaned. "Here I thought you were going to offer a different sort of payback. Come on, I did you a favor. She really took a shine to you."


    A pause.


    "You think?"


    I looked at him dumbly. "Lucius. Dont fall in love with her just because she was the first woman to pay attention to you."


    He blushed scarlet. "Im not in love!"


    "Sure, sure."


    "Im not!"


    "Okay, alright, I believe you." I lied.


    That sounded like someone I wanted on my side. "What happened to her?"


    "She died the next day."


    "Damn."


    "The average age of an elf used to be just under a thousand years old. Now theres only a few of them over a hundred. And most shamans with that level of power were well over a thousand. Most of them" Tamara looked away. "Well, you know."


    I did. My father was as thorough as he was cruel, and the elves had put up more of a fight than any other race. He had responded the only way he ever did. With brutal efficiency.


    "Do you still have any contact with them? Your tribe?"


    "No. Theyre not a fan of half-breeds, less so half-breeds who live in the city, and utterly antagonistic to those who mingle with, the enemy" Tamara emphasized the last two words with air quotes.


    Quietly, I thought on that, a newfound respect forming for her. It cant have been easy. It made sense that shed ended up with Cephur. They were both fish out of water, in a way. The image of Tamara kneeling over Cephurs body crawled up from my subconsciousness.


    "Tamara..."


    "Yes, Cairn?"


    I thought through my wording carefully. "Im going to ask you something, but before I do, I want to give you permission to tell me to fuck off."


    "Fuck off, my lord." Tamara smirked.


    Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "I mean you dont have to answer if you dont want to."


    "Ah."


    "Is there an elven last rite?"


    That wiped the smile off her face. "What do you mean?"


    "It was" I thought up a lie, "It was something I saw at Inharion. My father brought me there to watch the raid, before the caravan was attacked. It was awful."


    "I heard something about that, yes." Tamara said grimly.


    "There was an elven woman tending a dead man. She reached to her chest and withdrew a glowing sphere." I paused as Tamara took in a quick breath. "Then she placed it over his heart. It didnt look like any magic Id ever heard of."


    "The woman was a fool," Tamara said harshly, startling me.


    "What was it?"


    "For the record, you owe me for making me talk about something so awful. Alright. Fine. According to our religious texts, the elven soul is infinite. Unlike humans, our goal isnt to make it to Valhalla, or Elysium. Living well is the goal. Until then, we are destined to be reborn with no memory of it, over and over. Only when we achieve enlightenment can we fade away to nothing. The closest word in your language would be a cadence. Though that doesnt really capture the whole."


    Some parts of what Tamara was describing were too close to home to be a coincidence. But I still didnt understand. "So, what was the significance of what she did?"


    "She tethered her soul to his. My mother called it the ultimate expression of love. I would call it foolishness."


    "Why?"


    Tamara looked at me sadly. "Because theres no guarantee it works. You give up reincarnation to be with someone forever. But if the one you love doesnt make it to Elysium, or Hades, or whatever the dwarven equivalent isgods spare that poor couplethey are reborn, while your soul is lost, stranded in nothingness forever."


    A sudden anger washed over me at the utter cruelty of what Tusk had done.


    There was no question in my mind that Tamara and Cephur were good people. They had died for me, even if they couldnt remember it. And they also had a hard road ahead of them. There was the fact that Cephur was an officer while Tamara was not, but that was dwarfed by the racial divide. It would cause them both no end of grief. I thought long and hard. They were the sort I would need the night of my coronation, when everything came to an end. An idea started to form. A solution to my absence in Whitefall, and a way to reward them.


    "How close are we to the enclave?"


    Tamara blinked. "Cephur said we should be there by the end of the day."


    "Get me a pen and some paper. A bunch of it."

 Chapter 29-30: Crossroads XII

    Chapter 29-30: Crossroads XII


    My father laid the scroll before me with the tenderness you might use to handle a kitten. He placed it right on top of the sketch I was mapping of the castle, immediately annoying me. But even at the age of eleven, I knew better than to voice any irritation with him. I placed my pencil down and took the scroll, unrolling it cautiously. It was filled with large words and jargon I didnt fully understand.


    "What is this?" I was almost fearful of the response.


    "That, young man, is a document of conscription."


    My name was clearly printed at the top. "Im being conscripted?" I asked, utterly confused.


    My father blew air out his nose, stirring the long brown strand of hair that accented his regal ponytail. "I do not suffer fools, Cairn."


    I said nothing to that. It wasnt my fault he could never be bothered to use more than ten words to describe a concept, and those words could often be taken multiple ways.


    My father grunted. "The first son of every respectable noble house in Uskar has his own Battalion. A thousand soldiers that are recruited and trained to answer to ten officers, who in turn answer to one man."


    I pointed to myself, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.


    "Of course not." He shook his head. "You are the first son of House Valen."


    I breathed a sigh of relief at that.


    "One measly battalion is not nearly enough for a noble of your stature. Youll need double that. A full regiment."


    Talking to my father really was like being under the influence of verbal whiplash. A bolt of anxiety went through my gut. "Two thousand men?"


    "The boy can count!" My father slapped me on the back entirely too hard. "Consider it a gift."


    I picked the document up gently. Gifts from my father were rare and precious thingsbut that didnt change the fact that they were almost always dull and entirely utilitarian. The Kossboard I had used twice, and the sword that was too big for me were the only two that came to mind, though there were surely others.


    "Father," I said carefully, "I think I might be too young to command men. They wont listen to me."


    "You are the Prince. They will listen if you project authority, and if they do not, you must project terror instead."


    My father seemed to interpret my reticence as a lack of enthusiasm. He put a hand to his forehead in frustration. "This is my son? Elphion. This chinless idiot?"


    "Im not chinless!"


    My fathers fist came down on the drawing desk with a loud bang, unsettling a nearby inkwell which tipped over, seeping a puddle of black all over my drawing. I didnt dare reach for it, not while his anger was peaking. Instead, I sat very still.


    "Then prove it! Take responsibility for once in your damn life. By the time youre fifteen, I want that regiment fully filled, trained, and exemplary. Surely, you can manage as little as that in four years."


    "Okay." At that point, once his ire was starting, Id say practically anything to appease him if it meant he would leave. "Yes, father."


    King Gil stood, his disgust plain as day. That was my father in a microcosm. He never wanted children. He wanted miniature nobles that emerged from the womb fully formed and swinging, ready to go to war and command armies.


    "Get it done. If they do not meet the standard within the allotted time, if youre a man under two thousand, Ill reabsorb the men into my army, and there will be consequences."


    He strode from the room, his crimson cloak wafting behind him.


    There was a period immediately after where I took to the idea. I ran around the castle, recruiting hapless servants and irritated guards for my regiment. But the number never grew larger than two dozen. Eventually, the men quietly went back to their original postings. My ambivalence to the order was, perhaps, my first act of rebellion.


    Surprisingly, by the end of the time limit, my father never spoke of the injunction. Outside the never-ending conflicts on the plains, Uskar had been peaceful, and many of the smaller houses had disbanded their tertiary regiments, those amongst the first sons as well. Though he never mentioned it directly, his manner grew much colder towards me, as if the lack of war was solely due to my disinterest in preparing for conflict.


    It was a mile out from the enclave when I finally put the finishing touches on the documents, pricking my thumb and pressing it next to my signature on all three. It was crude, but I didnt have my stamp. A clerical magician could easily verify it as legitimate. Now, all I needed to do was sell my companions on the idea. It would not be an easy sell. Mainly since I needed them to agree because they wanted to, not because an arrogant noble was asking them to uproot their lives. Cephur pulled the carriage off the road, and we gathered around a fire. Maya was glued to my side, supporting me as I walked, my steps still tenuous and unsteady.


    This would be a hard enough task coming from a normal child, let alone one that looked like he might pass out at any momentand very well could. The rangers were seated on a fallen tree, looking bemused and exhausted. I turned and whispered in Mayas ear.


    "I may need you for this."


    "I have you." Maya said immediately. Her tail curled around my arm. She flashed me a quick smile and touched the back of my neck. My mind cleared, the shroud of fog retreating somewhat. Her confidence in me was infectious, though I wasnt entirely sure I shared it. At the Dukes house, I had explained only what was necessary to Cephur and the rest, as time was sparse. Though my predictions had proved correct, this would be much more difficult. I just hadnt had enough time with them. My loyalty to them stemmed largely from watching them die for me, an experience that now we no longer shared.


    Still, I had to try.


    Maya released my arm and stood to my left, within arms reach in case I fell. I took them in one after another. Cephur. Tamara. Orben.


    "Well" Cephur hesitated, sparing a split-second look towards Tamara. "Since youre effectively formulating another noble house, I assume you have some sort of match in mind for me?"


    Ah. So that was why he was so guarded. Writs of nobility were rare, but they did happen. Every so often, a noble would effectively adopt a commoner into their family. As a noble of the royal house, I couldnt elect a commoner to house Valen, so he was correct in that I needed to formulate a new one. My father had done this sort of thing a handful of times, using the formation of smaller houses to pull away upstarts from larger houses, effectively breaking up any house that had grown large or powerful enough to eventually form a threat. Normally hed raise hell over something as blatant as his son elevating commoners, but not if he thought it meant I was taking his mandate to form a regiment seriously.


    I had to hand it to Cephur, though. Even with the offer of nobility and a salary that dwarfed whatever he was being paid now, his first thought was for the woman next to him.


    Still, it was an excellent opportunity to have a bit of payback at a certain someones expense.


    "Yes, I have a match in mind," I said. Tamara grew very still. "Shes a warrior. Beautiful. But a terrible personality."


    "I... see." Cephur responded, his accent thick.


    "It cant be helped, but really, her personality is awful. Shes terrible with children. Shes also a notorious lecher. Though you might find that to be a good thing."


    Cephur actually started sweating. Tamara was staring at her hands, so she missed it when my eyes flicked to her, but Cephur did not. He broke out in a wide grin.


    "Does she have a little somethin I can hold onto?" He asked with a playful southern twang.


    Tamaras head whipped up to look at him, her eyes furious.


    "Mmm. Decent looking. Maybe a little flat. Id say she makes up for it with personality, but..." I shrugged. "Who am I kidding."


    "Alright kid. Whos this fine noble lady you got for me?"


    Tamara looked between us suspiciously, finally clueing into the fact that she was missing something.


    "Actually, shes a new noble as well."


    "How new?" Cephurs eyes twinkled.


    "A noble as of..." I looked up at the sun, musing. "Around fifteen minutes ago."


    The half-elf next to him fell off the log, her face a mask of surprise.


    Orbens head shifted slowly from Cephur, to Tamara, to Cephur again, his mouth open in unrestrained excitement. He helped Tamara up and leaned into her ear. "I think hes talking about you." His voice barely qualified as a whisper. Tamara was visibly stunned.


    I stood again, letting the levity go. "All joking aside, no arranged marriages or interfering with your lives. But what Im offering does have benefits. As regiment leader, you report directly to me. That means youre immune to scandals affecting your rank. Meaning that, should the need arise, you can marry whoever you want, with no fear of it affecting your standing. Thats a promise."


    Tamara covered her mouth.


    Cephur stood across from me, his smile gone, expression filled with silent gratitude and understanding. He gripped my arm, and I gripped his.


    "I think I can get behind that."


    I found myself filled with a strange satisfaction Id never felt before. Maybe this was what it felt like to be a leader. To use my power and position to forge allies, not from tyranny, but cooperation and loyalty.


    Then a grim weight settled on my shoulders. There were no delusions. When Thoth invaded the capital, people would die. My people. I needed to stack the odds infinitely higher in my favor to protect them. I could not afford to turn down power, as I had with Kastramoth. There was no choice. I had to be better.


    Tamara jumped up and hugged me fiercely, and I stifled a groan. Orben slapped me on the back, and that did elicit a groan.


    Maya shooed them away.


    "If you kill him before we reach the enclave, I will be very unhappy," she said. I nodded a silent thank-you. She squeezed my arm, her face proud.


    "You aren''t planning to come back to the capital anytime soon, are you?" Cephur asked.


    I glanced at Maya. "Itll be a couple of years, at least."


    "Welp. Thatll give me some time to whip the men into shape."


    "The best you can find. And I dont care about their backgrounds, Cephur. I have no doubt there''s plenty of talented soldiers with mingled heritage that have been held back. I want them. As many as you can find."


    He nodded


    "Hey!" Tamara seemed to realize something, her face outraged. "Who do you think youre calling flat?!"

 Chapter 31: Enclave I

    Chapter 31: Enclave I


    You have any idea how many commoner children do that? And Alten aint exactly an uncommon name.


    It was a fair observation. I shrugged and asked him to do his best, recommending he leverage Thaddeus to assist with the search.


    I gave Orben carte blanche to find me the perfect horse; a hybrid between the war-horses my father was so fond of and something more mobile.


    But again, the most vital task went to Tamara. I explained Seras situation in broad strokes and how isolated she was, hinting at, though not specifically stating, how vital it would be to sway her to my side. Archery would be the way in. Sera was obsessed with learning to shoot, and constantly complained about the incompetence of every man and woman who tried to teach her. I was confident she wouldnt have the same issue with Tamara. In truth, though, I didnt expect much. Sera was always going to be a hard nut to crack. Gods knew Id failed at it for years. Still, it might help her to have a friend.


    The rangers bickered amongst themselves, already debating the best way to approach things when they returned to Whitefall. It surprised me to find that I had nothing but faith in them.


    There was a dull pastel to the scene that matched the bittersweet melancholy. My sense of color hadnt fully returned, washing everything in muted tones. This wasnt what I wanted, not really. I wanted Tamara to teach me to shoot, and to race with Orben. I wanted another year of sword tutelage from Cephur.


    But it wasnt meant to be. I wandered over to the shadow panther, who stood at the edge of the forest uncertainly, as if it sensed this was the end.


    I reached out tentatively, and it nuzzled its head against my hand and made a sound in its throat. It wasnt so much the creature itself, but everything it represented. Helplessness. The way I had struggled against it and nearly died, back when I didnt even know I could come back. Finding the strength to fight, even when the odds were against me. An enemy, somehow, miraculously turned companion.


    Slowly, I crouched down achingly in front of it.


    You cant go where Im going, Im afraid.


    It cocked its head in a manner that looked so similar to a person asking a question. Why?


    There wont be much for you to hunt. And theres gonna be enough suspicion on me without bringing in a giant cat with a penchant for violence.


    It looked displeased.


    Look, I dont know why you decided to follow me, but I am grateful for your company and bounty. I pulled out a piece of meat, some leftover rabbit the Panther had hunted the previous night.


    It didnt look angry so much as disappointed. Which, as always, was worse.


    I sighed and looked around. This particular patch of forest was nearly as thick as the Everwood had been, but the atmosphere was completely different. The sparse canopies let in plenty of sun. Birds chirped. More importantly, it lacked any sort of malevolence or sinister atmosphere. It felt light and peaceful.


    Come. I pointed downward to my feet. Look.


    The shadow panther heeled at my side, golden eyes fixed on the forest. The fur around its neck had only just started to come back.


    Look at all that green, filled with prey. Its all yours. Youre the scariest thing out here. The apex predator. King of the forest. I grinned.


    Something flitted through its eyes too quickly to parse. Before, when Id talked to it the same way you would a dog or a cat, I struck with the uncanny sense that it could understand my words. Id written it off as wishful anthropomorphism. But now I wasnt so sure. It was intelligent. Perhaps smart enough to pick up on the meaning of my words, rather than the words themselves.


    You dont have to wait for me. Im going to be a while. To do what I need to do, I need to get stronger, be better. But if you do happen to stay around here, one day Ill come back. Likely through this very path. And if you decide to come with me, Ill have a name for you.


    The Panther stood, powerful muscle beneath its skin rippling. It began to prowl into the forest. It gave me one last lingering look, then disappeared into the brush.


    I suddenly felt foolish. Who was I kidding. It probably had no idea what I was saying at all. Still, it would have felt wrong to just leave.


    I coughed violently and held a hand to my mouth. It came away damp. There wasnt as much blood as before, but plenty of bluish ichor. A chill went through me. It reminded me, a little too uncannily, of what happened to my mother.


    Maya had wandered over to me and spotted my sudden fear, and spotted the blue. She raised her voice suddenly and gestured towards the rangers, her tone brisk, belying an edge of panic.


    He is getting worse. We need to go. Quickly.


    Tactically speaking, the solution was clever. Dimensional travel across the same plane allowed complete flexibility. They didnt need to build a fortress to defend the entrance. That was why there was nothing more than a simple town here, serving as a hub. If an enemy attacked, all they needed to do to defend was turn the portal off from the other side. Not to mention, it was just practical; If the enclave was as massive as I was led to believe, you would want multiple entrances just to deal with the insane congestion that often took place outside castle gates. There were many nodes like this one that served as entrances to the enclave, some like this, some more discreet.


    A guard was posted on either side of the portal. They watched us approach impassively. Then two more emerged from the center, seeming to appear from nothing. Unlike the first two guards who wore steel simple steel, their armor was inlayed with a blackened bronze that matched the staff at Mayas side. Xescalt.


    Wed attracted some attention, then.


    I strained to see them more closely, and my vision faded to black, only returning after a matter of seconds. Panic clutched at me. I forced it back down. This was not the time for panic. Maya pulled the reigns back, slowing the horse.


    One of the guards in the Xescalt composite armor walked down the steps towards us, away from the portal.


    Nethtaris child, right? I thought you were off on a research mission for the Vessel. What are you doing back here? He eyed me. And in such poor company.


    Maya set her jaw. She looked at him cooly, not backing down. I intend to bring my friend into the Enclave.


    And I intend to get home on time and eat a nice warm dinner, and kiss my wife. But you dont see me making that your problem.


    Well. It was nice to know that the ambivalence of guardsmen was the one thing that crossed racial divides. Always the same.


    Mayas eyes narrowed. Her hand glowed green, and she drew a circle in the air, bisected with a strange pattern. I invoke the rite of Shaliat. His home is my home. His crimes, my crimes. His banishment, my banishment.


    The crowd that had gathered around us, pinning us in, murmured in surprise. By the grace of some god out there, I did not fall off the horse. That was a lot of responsibility. At some point after this, Maya and I needed to have a talk about having more open lines of communication.


    Invocation or not, thats not happening, Nethtaris daughter. The guard said. Hes human. He can linger on the surface, resupply if he can find someone that will sell to him, then be on his way.


    Hes sick! Maya snapped.


    Get him to the doctor then. His eyes narrowed. Arent you supposed to be a life mage?


    I could see that Maya was stumped. And I appreciated what she was trying to do. She didnt want to out me, especially here, when we were isolated, outnumbered, and defenseless.


    But I had already learned this lesson. Hiding my identity out of cowardice had nearly lost me my dearest ally once, and that was enough. There would be times to lie about what and who I was. But now was not that time.


    I was someone they hated.


    I had something they needed.


    All I could do was hope the latter outweighed the former.


    I slipped from the horse. The ground rushed up to meet me. I misjudged the distance, stumbling slightly to stay on my feet. The guard stirred slightly, hand going to his ruby encrusted pommel.


    Carefully, I raised myself up to my full height, took in a deep breath, and spoke.


    My name is Cairn of House Valen. Son of King Gil, the Tyrant. Another stream of murmurs. The guardsmans face went blank, callous ambivalence gone. He unsheathed his sword. Mayas head swiveled in panic, looking for an exit. I turned away from the guard and surveyed the crowd.


    For one precious second, their faces came into focus. And it was not hate I saw, but fear. They feared me. I felt a surge of anger at what my father had done to these people, that even a child could instigate such a response.


    With great effort, I summoned the spark. My chest seized for just a moment.


    There was a string of gasps and the quiet murmurs grew to a fevered pitch. I heard the clink of armor as the Guardsmen closed the distance.


    Holding the flame, I extended it out towards them gently, slowing moving in a circle until I faced the guard in xescalt plate once more.


    I do not come to you as a prince, or a warrior. I come to you in the spirit of peace. I come to you, to return that which was stolen.

 Chapter 32: Enclave II

    Chapter 32: Enclave II


    I wasnt expecting them to welcome me with open arms, but truth be told, I also wasnt expecting to be put into chains. Some part of me had assumed my little display would buy me a vestigial fragment of good will, but so far, all it had won me was my life and a pair of manacles. I flexed my fingers experimentally, trying to keep my circulation going. They were similar to the sort of bonds the rangers used for the most part, but where they differed was in the set of complex metal rings and rods designed to keep fingers separated. That, combined with the hieroglyphic runes carved into the bands, made it clear this device was some sort of anti magician counter-measure.


    That was fine. Id have to be a damn fool to even consider trying to use my power now anyway.


    Maya had raised hell, but there was only so much she could do. Her family was not particularly influential, from what I understood, and any authority she might have held was apparently vastly stunted by the threat of the Tyrant Kings thirteen-year-old son. If their intent was to humiliate and provoke me, I would not rise to the bait. We approached the portal.


    Hold your breath, Maya whispered, it can be disorienting.


    I had thought the entering the portal would feel electrical, like stepping into a tunnel filled with static electricity. Instead, it felt like walking through viscous gel. It tugged at my hair and my skin, as if intending to reject me altogether, the barrier stretched until it snapped. There was a moment of disorienting weightlessness. Then, for lack of a better word, we landed.


    And I realized how poorly researched all the stories of the Infernal Enclave had been. The words so often ascribed to it, a large cave, were almost hysterically reductive. Imagine for a moment, if you will, a moderately wealthy coastal city, littered with shanties and small houses on the outskirts, building eventually to larger houses and small buildings, all built up in an imperfect semi-circle around the ocean. But instead of an ocean, there was a massive black chasm going down further than the eye could see. There was no sky, just a ceiling made of rock a mile up, the whole city incased in a geological dome. Most spectacular of all was the massive, fiery sphere of light towards the vertex of the convex dome, serving as a miniature sun.


    Elphion, I said, in awe.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Yes. The sense of wonder never really goes away, Maya gazed at our surroundings, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. Shed been with Barion for years, it must have been a relief to be home. I was happy for her, though a bit jealous.


    A guard at my back shoved me forward. Keep it moving, human. It was typical guard machismo. He couldnt have known his actions would have such drastic repercussions. I felt a fiery tear in my chest it felt like something was knocked loose. My vision slowly faded to black. The last thing I saw was Maya kneeling over me, her white eyes awash in regret.


    I floated in the dark. The great beast was nearby, but it hadnt spotted me yet. From somewhere above me, voices spoke.


    I told them he was sick, they didnt listen


    were you thinking bringing him


    the soul damagehe saved my life. More than once. I owe him


    Foolish girl. No one owes anyone this. Do you know what will happen to you if


    I do not care. I invoked the


    too young to be making this decision. It cannot be taken back. You will regret


    please. Im begging you


    so be it. But there is a something you must do


    The voices faded to nothing. I floated in the dark for what felt like an eternity. Slowly, the sensation of having a body returned to me. Though I floated weightless, I could feel my hands, my legs, my face. My mind wandered. I thought of Lillian. The way the sun dappled her face, her hair, as she toiled in the workshop. She appeared before me, floating around in the nothingness. Little more than a hallucinated specter of longing, but one I wanted dearly to be real.


    Im sorry.


    I stood on the mattress and called the spark again. This time, the section of wall closest to me glowed, though it took slightly longer to extinguish. So physical contact was irrelevant.


    There were no bars to file, no locks to pick, and magic was effectively useless. This was likely the sort of holding cell Barion would have literally killed for.


    I experimented for a bit longer. Banged on the walls and floor, looking for any structural. And yes, I set my mattress on fire. The flame extinguished almost instantly, accomplishing nothing more than the acrid smell of burnt fabric lingering within the cell.


    Having exhausted all possible avenues, I laid down and went to sleep.


    I woke up again, feeling frustrated and angry. This was the tenth time Id slept. I had no idea how many days it had been because the lighting never changed. Some time had passed for certain, my clothes were dirty and I smelled like I hadnt showered in a while, but certain things simply didnt function the same way they did on the outside. For one thing, I was growing increasingly paranoid that my bucket was emptying itself. Id made use of it a number of times, and after a few uses, Id always find it empty and spotless. It was possibly someone snuck in to change it while I slept, but considering how light of a sleeper I was, combined with utter silence of the cell.


    Then there was the fact that they werent feeding me. No one had brought me food or water, not even once. But the baffling part of it was, I wasnt hungry or thirsty. Dont get me wrong, I missed food. I found myself fantasizing about all sorts of grilled meats, recalling Desirics banquet with such vividness that I began to salivate. But the desire for food and water never turned into actual hunger and thirst. There were no stomach pains or dryness in my mouth and throat. Everything was consistently normal.


    It was around this time I began to realize I was being subjected to a subtle form of torture. It was clever, really, purely psychological rather than the atrocities that occurred within the Whitefall dungeons, but torture nonetheless. Their goal, I guessed, was to isolate me from anything that approached a routine. It was working. The walls felt like they were growing smaller, millimeters at a time.


    The only break from this was every five to ten sleeps, when it would rain in my cell. Only in the center. I had to scramble to undress as it would last mere minutes at a time, though it could have been much longer or shorter. My sense of time was growing perpetually more skewed.


    I started to exercise myself, to the best of my ability. Cephur had taught me a number of strength training exercises. I jogged in place, did pushups, eventually graduated to more complicated maneuvers out of boredom, such as handstands against the wall. I found that the more I tired myself out, the better I slept.


    This went on for some time, before Annette walked through the cell wall. I stared at her. She looked exactly like she did the night of the coronation. It couldnt be real. Could it?


    Annette? Is that you?


    She caught fire and I staggered backward. Annette stared at me, her eyes accusing as she faded into nothingness. Even my hallucinations couldnt be bothered to hold a conversation. I grunted and returned to my jog.


    It felt like years, but I learned later it was closer to three weeks before a section of the wall slid open and a man finally entered. I stood, rising from my mattress. My anger at being jailed had almost dissipated entirely. Instead I had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him to make sure he was real.


    The infernal was blue-skinned and older. He had a kind face, though I had learned quite thoroughly not to trust such impressions. His eyes matched his skin, deep and insightful. The horns on his head were much larger than the average infernal, colored pale white instead of the typical black. Perhaps he was just old. Still, he walked with a strange, measured grace. The door slid shut behind him. He sat down cross-legged in front of me, and wordlessly, I joined him. Maybe it sounds pathetic, but I was just happy for the company.


    He seemed to finish studying me, coming wordlessly to a conclusion, then looked around the room in distaste. I must apologize for my fellows, princeling. Even in their fear, they are spiteful. His eyes returned to me. Still, you have some fascinating friends, for them to pull me from the depths of the sanctum.


    The term was unfamiliar to me, but I took it to mean that Maya came through. Of course she did.


    I, I, I I stopped, suddenly, clamping down on the stutter in irritation. There was this sudden, irrational fear that if I did not speak to him properly, he might leave. Sorry.


    Take your time. Spending time in a magus cell is hard on anyone, especially a child. He said the last part with a snort of derision. He looked around conspiratorially. Call me Morthus. And, dont tell anyone, but I snuck in some contraband.


    He pulled a bag from within his robes, and somehow I could identify the scent immediately. Freshly roasted nuts. My mouth salivated immediately and I had to swallow the sudden flood of it. He reached out to hand it to me. His nails were long and black.


    And on his arm, branded into the liver-spotted skin, was the symbol of metamorphosis.

 Chapter 33: Enclave III

    Chapter 33: Enclave III


    I froze up, staring at the brand. It was only the fact that his eyes were on the bag rather than my face that saved me. Silently, I lamented my luck. How improbable was it that I kept running into these assholes?


    Then I thought about it. Humans werent exactly welcome in the enclave, as my current circumstances spoke to. Barion, while not quite human, was certainly human passing. It made sense that he would have contacts here, and that infernals, given their magical abilities, would take part in some capacity. Perhaps Maya was selected because of the simple fact that she knew this man.


    I took the bag, but did not eat. The smell drove me to the edge of madness. But I knew all too well how simple it would be to poison something like this, and use salt to cover the taste. With perhaps more self-control than I had ever shown in my life, I set the bag down.


    Morthus raised an eyebrow. Oh? I thought youd be ravenous.


    I was. Gods, I was.


    Excuse me. Im a bit disoriented.


    And a terrible liar, but I shant hold that against you. Morthus said knowingly. He reached for the bag, and I had a spike of primal fear thatpoisoned or notmy food would be taken. But instead, he simply took a small handful of nuts and threw them back, crunching loudly.


    That was all it took. I scarfed down the bag in seconds, shuddering in pleasure. The barely chewed nuts felt abrasive against my under-utilized throat as they slid down my throat, but I couldnt be bothered to care. He waited patiently as I ate, casually informing me of what had happened in my absence. He had an articulate, plodding way of speaking that reminded me of an actor in a play.


    The infernal council was deadlocked over what to do with me. A third assumed it was a trap and wanted me sent away to avoid risking another war, another third was cautiously interested, and the remaining third wanted me executed.


    If I may ask, I said, self-consciously wiping my mouth with my sleeve, what camp do you fall into?


    Well. Im not exactly an authority when it comes to decision making. They respect my opinion as an elder and mage, but politics was never really my thing.


    So, you dont have an opinion?


    Thats why Im here. To form one. He shook his head. I have love for Nethtari and Kilvius, but something like this I really have to judge for myself.


    Kilvius?


    Nethtaris husband, Morthus said. Hes a red, but we like him all the same.


    I see. Well, what would you like to know? I asked carefully.


    Many things. More than anything, Id like to witness the Dantalion flame for myself. There have been reports, but its been so damn long. He said, frustrated. But its not as if you can manifest it in here


    Morthus trailed off as I summoned the spark. As usual, it petered out in seconds, the floor below me glowing. He raised an eyebrow. You should not be able to do that.


    It doesnt last long.


    No. Morthus shook his head, bemused. You shouldnt be able to do it at all. Perhaps theres something wrong with the panels. He extended his hand, fingers arranged in the foci. His palm glowed blue briefly, and I felt a flash of cold, and then it was gone, absorbed into the floor. Fascinating. He looked at me.


    That looked similar.


    Yes, but Ive been at this a bit longer than you. His long fingernails tapped against the floor. Their daughter said you were advanced for a natural, but honestly, I figured the girl would say anything to get you out.


    She probably would.


    So. He leaned forward. What are your intentions?


    I was a little lost at what to say. I knew precious little about Barions group other than the fact that they were immoral, unscrupulous, and somehow connected to Thoth. Yet, after some consideration I wasnt sure they were actively working with her. Shed killed the duke, and spoke of Barion as if he was a bug to crush under heel, rather than an ally.


    Of a sort. What do you know about dune hawks?


    The change of topic threw me. Theyre birds? Morthus gave me an unamused look and I racked my brain. Big birds. Larger than most eagles. Native to the runic plains.


    Regal creatures. I havent seen one in gods know how long. A proponent of the brutal side of nature versus nurture. Theres a myth regarding birds pushing their young out of the nest. Its largely false. Dune Hawks, however, are the source of the myth. They migrate to the plains to lay their eggs, nesting in the highest trees they can find. Bastards throw their out young before their eyesight can even develop. They literally learn to fly blind.


    I suspected I knew where he was going. So, in this analogy, the enclave is the nest?


    Of course, were far more civilized. We dont throw our young out of the nest. Morthus smiled at me grimly. We send them down the elevator.


    Over the next hour, Morthus gave me some much needed context for how the enclave functioned, and why the council was so deadlocked on the topic of sending me into the sanctum.


    Any infernal under the age of twenty could enter the sanctum and leave. If you entered over the age limit, you stayed there. Master practitioners went there as a sort of retirement, and the magic of the sanctum extended their lifespan, often to an absurd degree. There were legends of infernals within the sanctum as old as elves. They would teach entrants they took a liking to, though often at a cost. The place was a treasure trove, both in terms of knowledge and actual treasure.


    There were, of course, downsides. For starters, it was incredibly dangerous. One out of five infernals that entered never made it back, and these were adolescents that spent much of their childhood preparing to make the descent. If you survived the monsters and feral demons, there were still plenty of pitfalls and natural hazards, the danger growing more extreme the farther you moved from the center. There was a real possibility I could die, and if that happened, they were suddenly in the unenviable position of having a dead prince on their hands and triggering a second war.


    The more militant leaders of the council were concerned I might bring back something more valuable than knowledge. As Morthus had said, Sanctum was almost a living entity. As the earth shifted, the layout had a tendency to change. Chambers and tunnels blocked off for thousands of years could suddenly open, and known areas could suddenly close. Stumbling upon a priceless artifact was rare, but entirely possible. Whatever an entrant found within the sanctum was theirs by right. They didnt want long-lost cultural treasures falling into human hands. Finally, the more neutral faction simply didnt think I had earned the right.


    I parsed the new information quietly. There was still one thing that didnt make sense. I looked up at Morthus. Why did they put me in here?


    His mouth turned downward. That was Guemons doing. The council speaker. I didnt see it, myself, but from what Ive heard, as soon as you stabilized, he had his men relocate you from the infirmary to this cell. He is, unsurprisingly, one of the shortsighted dunderheads that want to execute you. He holds a lot of sway, but not so much that its a real possibility.


    I gawked, incredulous. So he just put me in here to fuck with me?


    I suspect Guemon hoped youd be incited into a raging, gibbering mess before your inevitable council hearing.


    My stay in the magus cell had been difficult, certainly. Perhaps before everything that else that had happened it would have been enough to send me over the edge. But there were several lifetimes between then and now.


    Its a lot, Morthus said, kindly. He stood to his feet. If you decide to leave, no one would blame you for it.


    No. That was never an option. The gears in my head began to turn. I want to meet with the council.


    I figured you would. Very well. I will speak to the council on your behalf. My word still holds some weight around here. The solicitor should be by to meet with you shortly and prepare you for your hearing. You should be out by the end of the day, and I can return to the sanctum, where I belong.


    IThank you.


    Be a little angrier. He clapped me on the back. The council responds well to a bit of righteous indignation.


    The idea of finally leaving this accursed place flooded me with so much relief, it took a moment to pinpoint what struck me as odd about his previous statement.


    Morthus, I said. Youre returning to the sanctum?


    Yes?


    I thought you said if anyone over the age limit entered, they could never leave.


    I did. Morthus strode to the end of my cell and it slid open. He threw a smug look over his shoulder. Thats something youll learn about magic, princeling. Theres an exception to every rule.


    An hour later, Nethtari arrived to escort me to the council hearing.

 Chapter 34: Enclave IV

    Chapter 34: Enclave IV


    I looked up at the infernal, trying not to gawk. She was tall for a woman, probably at least a half a head taller than I was in my twenties. Her features were similar to Mayas, though they were pulled into a severe frown.


    Youre my solicitor for the council meeting?


    Nethtari inclined her head, her white eyes unreadable. Of course. My daughter performed the rite. It is only proper. Her voice was a perpetual monotone with the slightest hint of sarcasm.


    I bowed to her. Thank you for your help. Im not sure I could have survived in here much longer.


    She returned the bow, hers notably more shallow than mine. It is my duty. I am certain my daughter thought things through logically before throwing our family into the middle of a citywide power struggle, and this was not a result of her notorious tendency to act on impulse.


    I felt a stab of guilt at that. I apologize for making things difficult for you.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    This would not be the enclave if things were not difficult, Nethtari said blandly. That is our way. Come.


    I followed her out of the facility. The doors were as sheer on the outside, marked only by a single illuminated line. The glowing strips on the other cells were all red, save one that was blue.


    Whos in there? I asked.


    Whoever Guemon is displeased with this week, Nethtari didnt break stride. There was something almost noble about her gait, a smoothness between steps that many lacked. The guards leered down at me as we passed. My heart stuttered, terrified that they might change their minds and throw me back in.


    I passed through the doors, and the light of the artificial sun flooded over me, blinding me. For a moment, while my vision was washed out, my minds eye went elsewhere. I saw the inside of a quaint room, small and lived in. The perspective shifted, tilting up towards the ceiling.


    Then the moment passed and my vision returned. The sights and the sounds of the city were overwhelming. A woman on the back of a dire-mole sped past, nearly clipping me.


    Perhaps it is a cultural difference, but here, we generally walk on the sidewalk. Nethtari said.


    I sheepishly returned to her. We walked in silence.


    Do I have you to thank for saving my life as well? I asked. The constant pain I was in before had faded to a dull ache.


    That was my daughter. I am merely her enabler. Nethtari cast a glance over her shoulder towards me. The priests wanted nothing to do with you, but she insisted. Ive heard the words, Rite of Shaliat so often in the last few weeks that they no longer sound like words.


    So Im fixed?


    Hardly, a cool irritation played across her face, it would be best if you avoid excessive channeling. Her eyes slid over to me. Including, but not limited to, drawing the mana potential of a dantalion forest fire into your untrained soul and expecting little to no consequences. Also, stop setting forests on fire.


    It wasnt a whole forest fire, I muttered, feeling overly chastised. It made sense that Maya would have disclosed the details of what happened in the forest to her mother, but it still caught me off guard.


    Indeed. She rolled her eyes. Just take it easy for a while. With a little luck and rehabilitation, things will return to normal soon enough, and if this meeting with the council goes as planned, you will be properly educated on your limits.


    You think I have a chance?


    Oh yes, Nethtari said, her eyes flashing. Guemon tipped his hand the moment he put you in that cell.


    Nethtaris home was little more than two large wooden boxes stacked on top of each other, complete with chipping paint and bars over the windows. The inside was cluttered, wooden floorboards peeling up from the ground. It took several hours to prepare. Nethtari insisted that appearance was tantamount and disparaged mine in a manner that nearly reminded me of my stepmotherbut unlike her, Nethtari was correct. My hair had grown a bit too long. My father never really cared about those things, and my mother was less than focused on appearances, so my hair tended to run a bit long. However, in the time that had transpired between the Caravan and the present, it had grown quite unkempt. She sat me down in a small bathroom and stuck her head out the door.


    Kilvius! Nethtari shouted. Her shout was answered with the slow, long wail of an infant. Gods dammit. She put a hand to her forehead. The babys cries grew louder as footsteps came down the hall.


    Ill never understand how you do that. Kilvius gave his wife a wry smile.


    Ive said it before, youre too stimulating for Rin, you have to go out of your way to be intentionally boring Nethtari trailed off, looking at me. Dammit Kilvius.


    What? He said. I checked myself in the mirror to make sure I didnt have a random patch of missing hair.


    I said clean up, not makeover. It needs to look at least somewhat plausible that he just walked out of a magus cell. She walked to my side, studying me. Then to my horror, she placed a hand down on my impeccably styled hair and pressed down, mussing it savagely.


    Kilvius yelped in protest


    To her parents displeasure, Maya was waiting for me by the door. She crossed the room and threw her arms around me fiercely. You scared the hells out of me, she whispered into my ear.


    I returned the hug, more happy to see her than I would have expected. Im fine. Promise. Whats a couple of near-death experiences between friends?


    When Guemons men took you, I thought Her breath caught.


    I patted her on the back. A little solitary confinement isnt enough to put me down. They were honestly civilized about it. Didnt even rough me up in the meantime. Over her shoulder, I saw Nethtari giving me a look that could only be described as poignantlyhostile. Nervously, I let go of Maya and took a step backward.


    Nethtaris face softened, and she put a hand on Mayas shoulder. Ill take it from here, nilend.


    Moms good at what she does. Maya wiped her sleeve across her face. Just do exactly what she tells you.


    On the walk over, Nethtari had drilled an endless litany of information into my head. The proper greetings. How to bow. When to stand. Of the five prime council members, two were effectively empty chairs that would follow whatever the majority decided. The council members of interest were Guemon, Nephira, and Ralakos.


    Guemon, unsurprisingly, headed up the hostile faction and controlled the military and security of the enclave. He would do everything he could to get me killed.


    Nephira was head of trade and neutral, not particularly invested in either side, but she was anything but an empty chair. She could be swayed, but it would be difficult and take considerable effort.


    Finally, Ralakos would be my best friend. He was the magical authority amongst the enclave. More than anyone, he wanted the dimensional gate repaired. He had been lobbying against Guemon for my release over the last few weeks, and speaking on my behalf. He was still a politician, but in this particular instance, he had firmly planted himself on my side.


    He had even sent robes of his colors, a regal blue-silver, and Nethtari had instructed me to wear them.


    Speak when directly addressed. Do not interject. Nephira is the key to this, and she has a rod the size of a tent-pole up her ass when it comes to manners, Nethtari droned. You have some experience in the royal court, yes?


    Yes, I said, though it was likely less impressive than she thought. My father often took me there when I was young to see the so-called realities of ruling. I didnt mention the fact that I typically made it about ten minutes before falling asleep, and that habit followed me even as I grew older.


    Good. Nethtari nodded. Remember, if you are unsure whether or not you are being called upon, simply look to me.


    Now, I stood before them in the center of a ring, Nethtari at my side, hands folded behind her back.


    Every council member looked exhausted. I had the feeling that when I was told me the council had been deadlocked for weeks, it wasnt an exaggeration. Interestingly enough, every council member was a varying shade of violet. There seemed to be some sort of class element at play.


    Morthus sat off to the side and gave me a little wave.


    Guemon, one of the only chubby infernals Id seen, sighed over-dramatically and leaned backwards, extending out a hand towards me palm up in frustration. His voice was nasally and snide.


    For the love of all that is low and unholy, can we please just kill this motherfucker already?


    As of that moment, the Infernal Court held more of my attention than the Royal Court ever had.

 Chapter 35: Enclave V

    Chapter 35: Enclave V


    To be fair, I had seen far worse examples of opening diplomatic relations. Granted, all those examples came solely from my father, and usually ended in minor genocide.


    I stiffened, about to speak up before I remembered Nethtaris warning and glanced in her direction. It was like a switch had been flicked. Nethtari wasnt looking at me. She was staring down the three council masters, and it was actually working.


    You see this? Her voice was sharp and ringing. This is why I wanted him censured. Whatever the outcome of today, I would think, after the last month, the intention is to finally be productive.


    Ralakos had the air and build of a knight, similar to some retired men my father kept around as advisors. He spoke in a deep rumbling baritone. Indeed. Youve done nothing but stonewall for the last two meetings, Guemon. If you cannot be bothered to contribute, you are welcome to leave, and have Taupe fill in your stead.


    Oh youd like that, wouldnt you? You old bastard.


    Ephira cut in. Her nose was slightly flattened at the end, lending her a bookish look. Regardless of who is in the right, this is getting tiresome. Every moment this takes me away from my work is costing us gold. Let''s try to end this as expediently as possible.


    The gears in my mind started to turn. This was a bad situation. In my limited experience, the worst decisions in politics were made when the critical parties were either exhausted or rushed. And the council was both. They werent angry at each other, they were tired. We needed to widen the gulf between them, reinvest them in the conflict. Otherwise, said conflict would end as soon as Ephira said yes.


    And there was something wrong with Ephira.


    I couldnt put my finger on it. Something about the way her lips quirked in a subtle smirk when she said she was losing money.


    Damn it. I didnt have enough information. Didnt matter. Id improvise. I needed a narrative, but what?


    Lets hear from our guest. Prince Cairn, please step forward, Ralakos said.


    Donning the mask of the noble I walked forward smoothly, standing directly in the center of the room and bowing as Nethtari had taught me. Greetings, Master Ralakos, Master Guemon, and Master Ephira. I put a subtle emphasis on the last name. The ordering was also intentional. You may know this, but in case you dont, the most crucial parts of a list are the first and last things listed. Thats why, when you try to memorize something chronologically, the middle is most difficult. From my first sentence, I was snubbing Guemon.


    Ephiras expression shifted slightly, too subtle to read, but she was minutely more focused on me than she had been a moment ago.


    Firstly, I would like to thank you for saving my life. Though you may have not acted directly, it is thanks to your mercy that I still draw breath. I bowed once more, as was proper for appreciation.


    Please. Guemon rolled his eyes and set a fist down on the lectern a bit too hard. Wasnt he supposed to have a mortal soul event? And now hes up, walking around like nothing happened?


    I smiled, my face still hidden in the bow. Guemon had interruptedme in the middle of my introduction. So, as was proper in infernal custom, I ignored him completely, rising from my bow.


    I would like to thank you specifically, Master Ralakos, I continued.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Guemons face turn beet red when he realized why Id ignored him in turn.


    Oh? Ralakos said, amused. And what have I done to earn this gratitude?


    Upon my arrival, my clothes were in a state of disrepair. It is thanks to your generosity that I am able to appear before this court in attire befitting the institution. I made a sweeping gesture towards my robe. For that, I thank you.


    It was the least I could do for a visiting diplomat. Ralakos nodded. I decided against mentioning his lobbying for my releaseit doesnt matter what court youre in; no one likes an openly biased arbiter. Guemon snorted as I returned to Nethtaris side. The corner of her mouth tugged upward, ever so slightly.


    Ephiras arms were crossed. She tapped two fingers against her left side. Though my esteemed colleague, she glared at Guemon, appears to have forgotten the rules of the council, I am interested in hearing an answer to his question. We were told the princes condition was dire.


    Nethtari stepped forward. It was, Master Ephira. That much is verifiable through the physician and the priests.


    And yet, he is here. Presented with such aplomb and circumstance. As if he was never injured at all. Guemon added.


    Are you disparaging the quality of services performed by the church, Master Guemon? Nethtari asked, arching an eyebrow. It was a combination of their excellent care and Cairns natural fortitude that made such a timely recovery was possible.


    Ephira tapped three fingers on her arm.


    After a moment of silence, Ralakos cleared his throat. Yes, Cairn, perhaps it would do to hear the details of your recovery.


    I looked at Nethtari, and she inclined her head ever so slightly towards Guemon. Go Ahead.


    This timeas previously instructedI remained in place, arms behind my back, mirroring my solicitor.


    Of course. From what I understand, the success of my recovery was largely thanks to Master Guemon


    What are you playing at boy? Guemon hissed. Tap, tap, tap. Ephira tapped three fingers again. There was a certain saying about idle hands. But I was beginning to suspect Ephiras tick was anything but idle.


    I ignored him, and he looked like his face might spontaneously combust, continuing to address Master Ralakos directly. The kind master oversaw my recovery, making sure I did not over exert myself. He


    Hes lying! Guemon interjected.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Tap tap tap.


    Ralakoss head slowly turned to face Guemon. If you interrupt these proceedings one more time, councillor, I will uphold solicitor Nethtaris injunction, and you will be ejected from this council on grounds of hostility to process.


    Guemon slumped in his chair, muttering something hostile and unintelligible.


    I waited for a beat, letting Guemon boil, then continued. When I awoke, it was difficult for me to move. I was in constant agony. I found myself in a simple room with black floors and black walls.


    There was a murmur from the lesser councillors.


    Now, as you already know, I call Whitefall home. We are a magic poor society. We have lumen lamps, and the occasional mage, but their numbers are few. Thus, I know very little of magic or the application of it. But I can only assume the recovery room was magic-adjacent, as I no longer needed to eat or drink. I imagine that was its purpose, to keep me stabilized with as little stimulation or movement required on my part.


    That was my thought as well, but if Ephira is lost, we are at an impasse.


    Theyre cheating. So, we cheat. I steepled my hands together, lost in thought. Then something clicked. I snapped my fingers. Shes your trade person, right?


    Yes.


    Is she on a fixed salary or percentage? I didnt know nearly enough about their government and system.


    Not public information, but if youre asking if shes wealthy, shes wealthy.


    If they want me to be a prince, Ill be one. I need a problem that Im uniquely equipped to solve for her.


    For the first time, Nethtari smiled. I have just the thing.


    We reentered the room and a choir of whispering voices were immediately silenced. Guemon and Ephira were conversing in hushed tones while Ralakos fumed, watching from the side. So, hed picked up on it as well. He cleared his throat, loudly.


    Shall we continue, solicitor?


    We shall. Nethtaris eyes furrowed, watching Ephira and Guemon scurry back to their places. She began to speak the moment they stopped moving. It is clear that Cairn is a victim in these matters. He came to the enclave with no other intention that to restore the dimensional gate, and instead of being lauded and welcomed, was abused and imprisoned.


    Other than not dying, you mean. Guemon said dryly.


    Tap Tap Tap.


    How nice. Ephira and I had found something to agree on.


    An injury the human institutions could have handled easily enough, albeit not as thoroughly as ours. Nethtari said. The proposition is simple. He is the first human to approach us in a show of peace. Allow Cairn into the Sanctum, so he can acquire training from someone familiar with the dantalion tradition. Perhaps that seems too high a price to pay for you Master Guemon, as, unlike many of us, you do not have family on the other side. It would be the start of reparations, for both sides.


    Ephira sighed dramatically. Ad hominem helps no one. What it comes down to, solicitor, is the simple fact that it is not a good time. May I remind all of you that we still have an ongoing demonic insurrection on our hands. The Asmodial Legion has still not been brought to heel, and as such the chances of other rebellions and in-fighting are much higher, meaning the sanctum itself is more dangerous than usual.


    And where would he even stay? Guemon said. Theres not an inn in the enclave that would give him a room.


    Nethtaris eyes burned at the insult. My daughter invoked the Rite of Shaliat. My family is his family. His crimes, my crimes. His banishment, my banishment. He will stay with me.


    There was so much weight in that statement it was overwhelming. A bead of sweat dripped down my back. I was awed by Nethtari. She had just put more trust in Maya in one moment than my father had put in me over a lifetime.


    The time was now. Steeling myself, I looked at Nethtari, asking a silent question. She nodded and I stepped forward, maintaining my silence.


    Ephira did not address me.


    Finally, shooting her an annoyed look, Ralakos spoke. You may reply, Cairn.


    I closed my eyes. Everything was riding on that one, singular moment.


    Then, I spoke.


    Thats the one thing I agree with my father on, Master Ephira.


    An angry murmur rose amongst the lesser council. Ephira locked eyes with me, and I did not blink.


    That there is never a good time for peace. And while King Gil takes this as an excuse to oppress and wage proxy wars, I take it as a challenge. I struck my chest with my fist, pausing for a moment, letting the words sink in. There will never be a good time for peace because there is always an excuse to deny it. An insurrection one day, a territorial dispute the next, a trade dispute after that, and on and on the list goes, until the cycle of violence is never quenched, and we all, burn, to nothing.


    You- Ephira started, but she interrupted me and a rolled over her unimpeded.


    I am the son of the enemy, yes. An enemy that mortally wounded so many of you. I panned the room, looking at their faces. They studied me silently, flashes of emotion on their faces. Anger, loss, sadness, and perhaps even hope. You have all lost grandparents, siblings, fathers and mothers. I cannot bring them all back. I wish that I could. But in my hand, I hold the key return a precious few of the fallen. A gift, freely given.


    I opened my palm for a moment, then closed it into a fist and prowled the floor, my mouth turned downward.


    But I understand the fear. The fear of hope. That creeping horror, the damning trepidation, the utter dread that comes with allowing yourself to believe, even for a moment, that things could be better, will be better. Because the moment you believe, you open yourself to the possibility of hurt and betrayal.


    I remembered Sera, plunging the knife into my chest. I felt the flames as Annette burned in my arms.


    So instead of opening yourself to the chance of alliance, the chance of being hurt, instead, you rationalize. These are all just words Im speaking, just pretty words with nothing behind themand youd be right. I smiled. If I wasnt willing to put these words into action. The Sanctum is a precious resource, for which access should not be offered freely to outsiders. In that case, do not offer it freely. I ask for no special treatment. Allow me to earn my place, as so many of your children have done. I will take no trophiesthose I do find will be given to my wonderful hosts. If they must share responsibility for my misdeeds, it is only right that they share in my glory. Allow me to work with your apothecaries, to share the knowledge so many humans have miserably guarded.


    I turned to Ephira, focusing solely on her.


    Allow me to clear the route to the west, so you may reestablish your trade with the dwarves of Val Thurim once more.


    Ephiras eyes turned dark and greedy. Guemon looked between us, frantically.


    I stopped, until my words no longer echoed across the room, then spoke in a much quieter voice.


    Let me return that which was stolen.


    And then, staring at Ephira, I reached slowly towards my shoulder.


    Tap tap.

 Chapter 36: Enclave VI

    Chapter 36: Enclave VI


    With Ephiras help, the vote to grant me a year probation to prove myself worthy of the sanctum was three to two. The fallout was glorious. It appeared to everyone else as if a thirteen-year-old boy had somehow melted the heart of Ephira, a notoriously cold and ruthlessly pragmatic member of the High Council through an impassioned speech. Only Nethtari, Guemon, and I knew the truth.


    And Guemon had navigated himself into a corner. He glared at me across the room in a manner that let me know this matter would not be settled so easily.


    Ralakos approached us afterwards. He grinned an easy smile, flashing his pointed incisors. Quite the show young Cairn. Theyll be talking about this for years.


    Its all thanks to my excellent solicitor. I deflected, as the time for grandstanding and puffing myself up had passed. Were it not for her, I fear I would have made an ass of myself.


    Nethtari shook her head. Ephira was not the only one sandbagging in that hearing.


    Ralakos pointedly ignored the comment. Now that the ruling has been made official, I did want to extend an offer for young Cairn to stay at my estate. Theres plenty of space, and he will need to learn much in the coming months to prepare. Ralakos said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Nethtari stiffened slightly. I saw her tail peek out from under her dark robes towards her wrist before she stifled the motion Maya made often.


    Ralakos seemed like a kind man. He was an ally, and the last thing I wanted to do was alienate him out of turn. But Id seen this kind of thing from nobles one too many times. He had conducted himself well in the hearing, but always maintained a retractable position. Now that the battle was won, so to speak, he intended to sweep in and pilfer the spoils. If I was successful, I would be a boon of respect to those who supported me.


    But Nethtari had jumped into the fire for me, without knowing the outcome.


    I bowed deeply to Ralakos. With all due respect, my people have a custom regarding this matter.


    And what is that?


    Its best to dance with the one that brought you. I stepped next to Nethtari, reinforcing us as a unit.


    Nethtari looked genuinely surprised. Ralakos looked between the two of us and let out a deep boisterous laugh that turned several nearby heads.


    Of course, I forget myself. Solicitor Nethtari did excellent work this fine day.


    Thank you, Master Ralakos. Nethtari bowed.


    If at all possible, I would like to take you up on your offer of assistance for further preparation, I said, hopefully.


    Ralakos waved away the request. Consider it done. Nethtari, let me know if you need anything to make Cairns stay more comfortable.


    It was a backhanded comment, but the sort that was absentmindedly spoken. I talked briefly with Ephira on the topic of the trade route, Guemon leering from the side all the while. She was the upper echelon sort I had the most experience in dealing with, the kind that, in the end, only cared about money. I did find myself wondering why, exactly, they were both so comfortable with the idea of abandoning the people within the gate. For now, that knowledge was beyond me.


    The next six months passed incredibly quickly.Updated from


    Despite my fears to the contrary, my father simply removed the blockade after receiving my letter. He sent no response, which was alarming. It made sense that he hadnt responded to the first letter. The fact that hed received the second, and acquiesced easily to my request, and hadnt responded was ominous. Perhaps hed found some of my predictions to be valid, but somehow, I doubted it was that simple. Things were never easy when it came to my father. He was playing his own game now, and I had no way of knowing what it was.


    Most of my gold had been expended in the process of my recovery, and something I found out rather quickly about Mayas household was that everyone chipped in.


    Early mornings were spent maintaining the routine Id built within the magus cell, jogging and working on my body. I woke up before everyone else and showered when I returned. After that, things turned hectic, either helping Kilvius with Rin or making sure Nethtari had everything she needed before she headed to the council for the day. Maya had daily responsibilities at the precipice, healing injured returning from the chasm, including infernal children that had given up on the sanctum.


    Afternoons were split between studying and visiting one of the local apothecaries, usually to swap techniques and recipes with a kindly red infernal named Casikas, who paid me a modest wage. Once a week I visited Ralakos, though the man seemed more fascinated with the sound of his own voice than training me. He did send tutors to Nethtaris house, as well as one of his guardsmen to sparthe man was no Cephur, but at the very least it meant I was improving.


    There was, indeed, a class system within the enclave, though it wasnt as much about skin-color as it was about magical affinity. The violet infernals held the highest potential for magic, followed by the blues, and finally the reds. There was significant variance within these categories, but generally, there was a relative cutoff. The most powerful blue would never exceed the level of a strong violet, and a weak blue would almost always be stronger than a red.


    This time, the pebble did peg me in the forehead.


    Ow. I shifted to look at Kilvius, who was watching me with a raised eyebrow.


    Pay attention. There was the slightest touch of amusement in his voice. As I was saying, were gonna have to cut this short. Ill be taking Jorra with me into the marketplace to pick up some supplies for Maya. Better to not wait till the last minute. Do you want to come, or stay here and practice?


    Ill stay.


    You sure?


    I nodded.


    Kilvius looked between me and his son for a moment, then spoke. Jorra, go on ahead. Ill catch up. Jorra stretched his arms above his head, then jogged away, heading out the mouth of the cavern and towards the path that would take him back into the enclave.


    Kilvius crouched beside me, arms on his knees. He watched Maya meditate, a wistful smile crossing his lips.


    You know, you dont have to push so hard, he said.


    I wasnt sure how to respond that. His comment was well-meaning, but felt antithetical to my entire situation. If only that were true.


    Im speaking purely from a practical standpoint. I get that you think what youre doing is important. And it is. Theres a lot of weight on your shoulders. I can only speak from my limited experience, but you have to take a break now and then. Enjoy life a little. He eyed me knowingly. Get adequate amounts of sleep.


    I flinched. Apparently, my vurseng enhanced reading and late night expeditions to the cavern had been noticed. He was probably right, of course. My behavior over the last few months was probably growing to the point of being unsustainable.


    Im afraid. I admitted.


    What are you afraid of?


    That if I stop, even for a moment, Ill go back to the way I used to be. That Ill fall back into the same pattern of coasting day to day, expecting the world to handle itself for me. I scowled.


    Kilvius laughed. Youre too young for that much self-awareness. He stood and clapped me on the shoulder. It may not seem like it right now, but youve made excellent progress. Working hard is fine. Just dont burn yourself out. I know Im practically a stranger to you, but still. Im proud of you.


    Im proud of you.


    Thank you. I said awkwardly. It was such a small thing, but no one had said those words to me since my mother died. The emotion that swelled in my chest was embarrassing and I looked away.


    Kilvius said goodbye and took his leave.


    I waited for a few minutes, then went to check to make sure there wasnt anyone lingering outside the chamber. Maya had stirred from her meditation and watched me.


    All clear? She asked. Kastramoth rose on all four legs in anticipation. A string of drool dripped from his mouth.


    Yep.


    I removed my outer garment, not wanting to bloody it, then strode to the center of the chamber and drew my sword, staring down the demon.


    Shall we?

 Chapter 37: Enclave VII

    Chapter 37: Enclave VII


    I mentally prepared myself for the fight. It had taken weeks to get rid of the mental baggage, and some of my fear towards the demon still lingered. These battles were never a question of whether I could win, rather, how long it would take me to lose.


    Maya looked at Kastramoth seriously, giving a nonverbal warning before she commanded him. Subdue.


    The beast charged at me, his head lowered.


    I ran straight at him. His antlers were by far my biggest issue because of their absurd reach. But the teeth and hooves were nothing to scoff at either. Right before we impacted, I crouched low and jumped up in the air, intending to land on his head. But Id done it one too many times. He flicked his head upwards, launching me in an involuntary half-flip. I managed to pull my sword breaker in time and plunged it into his membraneous side, leaving a crude gash as I slid down.


    Letting the dagger go, I landed next to his back legs, and immediately threw myself into a roll as a back leg coiled and lashed out near my head. He growled viciously at me and spun and snapped, teeth clicking together perilously near my face


    Teeth, I could feel the teeth.


    I scored a blow across his nose. There was a surge of triumph within me as Kastramoth shrunk away, blood dribbling down his face. Then he leered at me, and my confidence evaporated.


    Lightning fast, he charged in sideways, clotheslining me with the bulk of his mass, his bloody side heaved crudely into my neck and face. My vision blurred as I fell backwards, stunned, onto the cave floor, scrambling away, trying to retreat and create space while he snapped at wildly at my retreating body, teeth clicking inches from my retreating legs. All the while, I expended mana, trying to weave it into something I could use.


    Kastramoth leapt forward twice, shaking the ground, and snapped towards my arm. The violet light snapped into an aegis around my shoulder, dulling the impact, though I still felt the immense pressure of his dull teeth grinding around it.


    I drove my sword into his throat, knowing it was already over. He did not let go. Finally, the aegis shattered into a thousand tiny shards. A growl of pain ripped from my throat as his teeth ground into my skin, and the bone popped. He pinned me down, face first on the ground. I could feel his breath in my ear.


    Weak.


    Thats enough, Maya said. Kastramoth stepped away obediently and returned to his spot on the other side of the lake. My arm throbbed, and I knew from experience that the demon had mangled it on purpose. The first few times wed done this, my showings had been mostly pathetic, and hed injured me more severely, angering Maya, who kept him within the amulet for a week. Lately, hed been dialing it in, inflicting as much pain in as little damage as possible. But that was fine. He got to work some aggression out, and I got some valuable combat experience fighting against something much bigger and stronger than me.


    I would not always be in a position where I could out plan or out maneuver, as I had in Kholis and the Everwood. It was important to be able to hold my own in a straight fight.


    That didnt mean, however, that I wouldnt keep trying to stack every advantage possible in my favor.


    Maya approached me with a sympathetic look, her hand glowing green. She pressed it to my arm, her touch cool and soothing.


    Well, it went better than last time. I said, giving her a rueful grin. What was it? Like thirty seconds longer?


    Forty. And I understand why we are doing this, but I hate seeing you hurt. She inspected the wound closely as it knit shut.


    Bah. Its nothing.


    Maya shot me a knowing look and raised a finger. So it does not hurt when I


    Okay, it hurts, okay? No touching. I scooted away from her upraised finger. Despite the healing magic mending the lacerations and tears, my arm still throbbed. Its dislocated again, I admitted. But realistically, I only need one arm. We dont need to


    I gritted my teeth, vision blurring with tears as Maya lifted my injured arm by the wrist and elbow out from my body, then twisted and pulled. It realigned with a sickening crunch.


    Thank you I moaned.


    Life magic could fix damaged ligaments, close wounds, and repair organs. I had no idea why it couldnt also relocate bones. Her cool fingers rested on the back of my neck for a moment and the pain lessened.


    She helped me to my feet, careful of my injuries.


    Your questions have a tendency to be tied to practical applications.


    Okay, so tell me why its impractical.


    Inscriptions are dependent on the power of the inscriber, Mayas voice took on the tone she always used when offering instruction. You cannot create a scroll of something you cannot already cast.


    Two dots connected in my mind. Id seen a couple of infernals, usually violets, though occasionally blues and reds with demonic text inscribed on their bodies.


    And is inscription magic limited to scrolls? I asked, trying very much to sound innocent.


    But Maya knew me too well. She stepped between me and the store window, her face concerned. Tissue inscriptions are a shortcut, Cairn. A dangerous one. There is talk of them being banned for a reason. It is far too easy to kill yourself, trying to use a high-level inscription your body is not ready for. Not to mention the ink tends to degrade your body in ways that is difficult for even life magic to heal.


    I sighed. Ill take your word for it then.


    We stopped by Casikass apothecary, so I could pick up my gift for Maya. She eyed me when I emerged with a large box, but did not comment.


    The evening dinner was as chaotic as usual. I had a hell of a time scaling the fish, and an even worse time gutting it. Its insides were wormy and dark-colored, and it had terrifying oblong and misshapen organs Im fairly certain no other fish had.


    Pink child. Nethtari squeezed past me to her station, where she was chopping fresh vegetables. Stop butchering that thing for a moment and grab the oil. I opened the nearby pantry, and grabbed the cask of oil, and passed it to her. She took it, pausing in momentary disgust when she saw my bloody handprint. I grinned at her sheepishly.


    Kilvius helped me debone the fish, pointing at trouble areas I would have missed otherwise, and within twenty minutes we were all seated at the table. The artificial sun had begun to set, light entering from the windows casting the scene in dull orange.


    Jorra devoured his fish and poked at his vegetables. Kilvius complemented Nethtari and I for the meal, thanking the lord below that a competent chef had finally graced their household. He dodged the napkin thrown his way with practiced ease. Throughout the dinner, they drilled Maya on safety rules for her time in the sanctum.


    Stay away from unmarked entrances. Nethtari said.


    No matter how innocuous they seem. Kilvius added.


    Were not saying dont explore. Nethtari said.


    Just be smart about it. Kilvius finished.


    Ive got it already. Maya sighed, exasperated. You guys have been drilling it into me for the last two weeks. Ill stay away from unmarked passages. I wont open any chests until Ive had them checked for traps by a professional, and I wont go lower than the gray-crust layer unless Im in a group.


    Wed prefer if you waited until these two joined you to do that. Nethtari looked between Jorra and I. The lower you go, the rougher it gets. Especially with the damn asmodials running around, riling everything up. Not to mention the mana concentrations can do strange things to your head. Things arent always what they seem.


    Ill be careful, Maya promised. As long as you guys keep Jorra from driving the tutors crazy, and Cairn from tearing his soul out of his body.


    They joked, and laughed, and I laughed with them. But there was a soreness in my heart, one I couldnt quite put into words. It just felt wrong. There was so much love and companionship between them.


    Was this what a normal family looked like?


    Nethtari and Kilvius treated me like just another one of their children. It wouldnt last forever, I had no question of that. After the sanctum, I needed to formalize an alliance with the infernals. Fixing the dimensional gate would help, but it likely wouldnt be enough. Id need my father on boardand that would be the hard part. But for now, I tried to enjoy it, ignoring the guilt that crept inthat niggling reminder that I could be doing morewhenever I felt myself enjoying anything.


    But no. I would treasure these moments. Id savor this momentary tranquility, for as long it lasted.


    Which, as it turned out, wasnt very long at all.

 Chapter 38: Enclave VIII

    Chapter 38: Enclave VIII


    I woke up, like I always did, around midnight in the room Jorra and I shared. It would be easy to blame it on the vurseng. But the truth was I had already started to expect for things to go wrong. The relative tranquility of the enclave never sat well with me. It was almost like a voice, whispering in the back of my mind, that I was too comfortable here. Reminding me that at any moment, it could all be snatched away. I drug myself out of the bed quietly and dressed, being extra quiet, the comments Kilvius had made the prior day at the forefront of my mind.


    After a brief visit to the bathroom to wash my face, I prepared to leave for the night.


    The slow, rousing cry of a baby froze me in my tracks. Strange. Agarin rarely woke in the middle of the night these days. It was probably fine. Any minute, a lantern would be lit, and either Kilvius or Nethtari would trudge down the hallway, wiping sleep from their eyes. Only, it didnt happen. Come to think of it, they had both looked particularly tired after dinner that evening.


    I glanced at the front door, then swore quietly under my breath and slipped into Agarins room. The baby had unsettled me at first, to a degree that bewildered. It took a while to figure out why. It had nothing to do with the color of his skin, or his tiny tail, or the little black horns that already poked out of his skull. It was something else, something deeper.


    Being a father was something Id never thought about before Lillian. Id hidden my more visceral reaction from her because she needed support, not additional panicbut gods had I panicked. Every little slight my father had made, the way even the smallest things affected my sisters and I later in our lives, suddenly magnified in my mind, the level of responsibility so overwhelming it was almost paralyzing. How could I possibly be a father when Id never seen what a father was supposed to be?


    And so Id blundered forward, forcing down the fear for her sake. And after she was taken from me, there was anger, and grief, and hatred. But beneath it all was the tiniest whisper of something else.


    Relief.


    Relief that I would not be able to do to that child what my father had done to me. And I had buried that relief under an ocean of liquor and wine, until I had forgotten it all together.


    That is, until Rin.


    Cair? He said. He was standing, his small hands clutching the wooden slats that made up the walls of the bassinet Nethtari and I had expanded to make it safer. Cair? Up?


    Despite myself, I smiled. Sure thing, bud. I hefted him out of the bassinet, grunting slightly. Hed put on weight at a rate that had to be exclusive to infernals, theres no way human babies could possibly weigh this much. Making sure to support him from beneath, I carried him over to the rocking chair across the room. There I rocked him in silence, the only sound in the house the slow creak of the chair. His white eyes repeated the cycle of unfocusing and nearly closing, only to snap open again.


    I poked his nose gently, and he stirred, looking horribly aggrieved.


    Why? He asked.


    Thats what Im saying. Why are you trying so hard to stay awake when everyone else is sleeping? I pointed to the darkness outside the window. See? No sun. Its sleepy time.


    Rin clung to my errant finger when it came into poke his nose a second time. Story! he insisted. I snickered. Maybe this was karma, coming back to settle accounts for the inordinate number of times I must have said that word to my mother.


    We cant make a habit of this, you know. Nethtari would kill me if you kept waking up asking for storiesshed know exactly who to blame.


    A moments pause. Story!


    Fine, fine. I settled into the rocking chair, and launched into a highly modified selection of the assorted tales of Sir Gantry the Wise. Only, in this version, Sir Gantry was a cyan-skinned infernal.


    Sir Gantry approached the pixies of Regal Grove with many gifts, hoping to learn the secret to their metals thatwhen honed properly, could cut through stone like butter. The pixies fled from Sir Gantry. Only when he laid out an offering of wine and sweet berries did they finally approach. Sir Gantry caught one of the pixies in a net. The pixies name was Song. He assured her he did not mean her any harm, he simply wanted to talk. Song was young, but clever, and answered his questions with a question. She said that if Sir Gantry could answer one question correctly, she would tell him the secret of the magical pixie steel.


    The question was: what is justice?


    Nethtari had entered the room halfway through the story, clothed in a simple white nightdress. She pointed at the baby in my arms and I trailed off, looking down to find Rin fast asleep, thumb planted firmly in his mouth. I snorted. Too much philosophy in that story, it seemed. Slowly and carefully, I returned him to his bassinet, taking care to cushion his head as I placed him down.


    Nethtari spent some time telling me how it would work. The emissary selection was not unlike a major trade event. Some demons from higher-end legions were incredibly picky, some were less so. There were certain legions known to be trustworthy and cooperative, others to be avoided at all costs. Most important of all was the trophy. Id need something to draw attention, to differentiate myself from the others. Jorra had been given a small fragment of a sword that once belonged to an arch-fiend, an heirloom passed down from Nethtari herself.


    What? I asked, amused. My royal blood wont suffice as bait?


    Nethtari shook her head seriously. Not unless you wish to bind yourself to a demon. Hopefully, I dont have to tell you how bad that would be. No, all demons really care for is wealth, artifacts, and demonstrations of strength.


    I mulled over a few different ideas. It would not be terribly difficult to acquire wealth, but that would require leaning on my fathersomething Id prefer to avoid at all costs, as I was already in his debt and his reasons for being so bizarrely cooperative were still unknown to me. I had no artifacts, and I wasnt particularly strong. But there was one thing I could do that no one else in the enclave could.


    What about these asmodials, running around? Say I slay a couple of lesser asmodials and use the dantalion flame to seal them. Would their ashes work as a boon?


    Nethtari gave that some thought. Perhaps. It would close some doors to you, but most demons are as annoyed with the asmodials as the rest of us, as their rebellion is severely interrupting the flow of things and generally giving the rest of them a bad name.


    The idea of demons being so invested in their reputations was endlessly amusing to me.


    However, it would be dangerous. Im not sure you should be taking such risks. Having a boon wont help you if youre dead.


    I shrugged. Its just a thought.


    Itd be worth broaching to Ralakos, at the very least. He might loan you a couple of guards for an expedition into the surface caves, Nethtari said. She paused for a long moment. I could tell she was deciding whether or not to say something, the air between us growing oddly thick. Cairn? She finally asked. What is my daughter to you?


    The sudden change of subject felt like an ambush. I coughed out a lungful of acrid smoke, wheezing until my breath normalized. Really, though, it was only normal that she would ask. We probably seemed abnormally close, to outside observers who didnt share the full breadth of our history. But that was all, I was sure of it. The lingering looks, the odd pang in my chest, it was nothing more than simple adolescent growing pains.


    Maya is a dear friend to me. She saved my life. Theres very little I wouldnt do for her, I said, carefully.


    Spoken like a true politician. A friend, then. Nethtari confirmed. There was a strange look in her eyes.


    Yes. I extended out the word in exasperation. Why did people keep interrogating me on this topic? Theres nothing wrong with her. Shes beautiful, and amazing, and incredibly smart. Shes important to me and Ill do whatever I can, now and in the future to help her succeed. But Im theres someone waiting for me back in Whitefall.


    An arranged marriage?


    More predestined, really. Part of my visions.


    And Maya knows this? Nethtari asked. Her voice was casual, but this was starting to feel more and more like an interrogation.


    Yes. I took one final pull from my pipe, before it burned out.


    I see. Nethtaris questions finally relented, and she turned inwards in thought. I slung my rucksack over my shoulder and prepared to leave. Nethtari dumped the ash out of her pipe into a nearby tray.


    Dont stay out too late, Nethtari said. For just a moment, she looked terribly sad, though it passed just as quickly. Were heading to the edge to see her off, bright and early.


    I wont. I waved without looking, and headed off towards the training cave, trying very hard not to think about the fact that by this time tomorrow night, Maya would be gone.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter 39: Enclave IX

    Chapter 39: Enclave IX


    A pale yellow light crept in the apothecary window, confirming that I had once again stayed up all night. It wasnt my intention. I had planned to go to bed a little after four, but after taking stock of Mayas gift, Id decided to give it one more shot. Casikas had cut me a great deal on the required ingredients, so I went a little overboard. As of the current moment, my gift for her included a mess of antiseptics, salves for various afflictions including frostbite and burns, and a vurseng tea mixture.


    But there was one particular potion I had tried and subsequently failed to make over half a dozen attempts.


    It all started with a story: Casikas had told me about somewhat casually about a phenomenon the infernals referred to as death tunnels. As I already knew, the sanctum was constantly shifting the further you moved from the center. It was possible for some passages to completely close off, trapping inhabitants at a dead-end inside. But this was relatively rare. What was slightly more commonalbeit equally problematicwas that the earth would shift slightly, intersecting with one of the many aquifers present at that layer, and a previously dry passage would completely flood with water. This was a major problem, as the passages could in some cases extend for miles.


    The solution was the iron-lung potion. It simultaneously increased oxygen in the blood while reducing the heart rate, making it possible to triple or quadruple the standard time a person could hold their breath. It was, however, inordinately expensive and difficult to brew. Id blown most of the modest savings Id accrued from the apothecary on the ingredients attempting to make it the first three times. The problem was that the same ingredients were also used to brew mage-bane, a mixture that was similar in that it reduced heart rate, but also drained mana and slowed regeneration. The main difference in the brewing process was the temperature of the mixture. It required a higher temperature than a standard flame, which necessitated using my magic, as Casikass apothecary lacked the necessary equipment. But, it took hours. If the temperature was too inconsistent, the potion wouldnt form anything of use. If it was too high, Id end up activating the secondary characteristics of the ingredients, producing a batch of mediocre mage-bane. Only if it achieved the exact temperature maintained consistently, would it result in the potion I needed.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    The bell to the front door chimed as Casikas entered with a dour Morning, sleep still heavy in his voice. I ignored him, staying focused on the task at hand. I removed the flat-bottomed glass flask from the fire, recalling the flame absent-mindedly.


    He entered the lab, identifying what I was doing immediately and reaching for the strainer. He observed silently as I poured the liquid through it into another beaker.


    Any chance you actually got it this time? He asked, voice expressing exactly how much of a possibility he thought that was.


    I shrugged. Not sure. Ive gotten better at narrowing the range of the heat to a matter of degrees, but theres always a margin of error. I glowered at the flask. Pretty sure the temperature spiked for a few seconds there.


    Well, we can always sell more mage-bane. Are you here for the day or just tinkering?


    Tinkering. I swirled the beaker and held it up to the light. Hey, how does the color look to you? It was pearlescent blue, much clearer than the previous attempts.


    Casikas took it from me, pushing his round spectacles up his nose and studying it for a moment before handing it back. Looks decent. But theres really only one way to tell for sure. He shot me a toothy smile. Grimacing, I poured a small portion of it into a half-cup and, sending off a quick prayer beforehand to any god that might be listening, tossed it back.


    The taste was mostly the same. Pungent bouquet. A viscous and briny body. But the finish was different, nuttier: More briar nut than elm.


    I waited anxiously, bracing myself for the dizziness and discomfort as the mana drained from my body. Unlike the last time, it didnt come. But something was happening. My heart, which was pounding in anticipation just moments ago, began slowing down, almost to a normal rate. Experimentally, I called the flame, and it manifested in my palm with no issue. Then I held my breath. I hadnt taken a full dose, so I wouldnt feel the exact effects, but the typical urgency to breathe didnt manifest until what much later than normal. I grinned, holding the bottle skyward and pumping a fist.


    Finally.


    I knocked on Mayas door. It swung open, and she waved me in, barely contained panic in her eyes. There was a half-packed travelers bag and rucksack on her bed, haphazardly strewn across a rumpled red blanket. Everything else in the room was immaculately ordered and dusted, making the mess from packing stand out starkly. Maya darted back and forth, moving between the two bags frantically, looking into the air and muttering to herself and counting on her fingers.


    So I take it youre excited, then? I took a seat.


    Up! Up! She shooed me away from her bed. I am sorry. I am in a rush and am certain I am forgetting something, though I cannot for the life of me remember what it is.


    Name it, I said quickly, cutting her off.


    Maya looked down, and her lip quivered. After everything with Barion I thought I would never see my them again. Thought I would never feel my mothers embrace, hear my fathers laugh. Now, I am terrified to leave them.


    I suddenly understood, a little too well. You dont have to say it. Ill look after your family, Maya. I promise.


    Its a lot to ask, but I do not know anyone else who can see the future. She smiled up at me, shyly. There was so much trust in her eyes.


    Well, its a good thing Im here then, I said, smirking. Designated seer, at your service.


    See that you dont end up believing your own tall tales. Maya rolled her eyes. If you are a seer, then I am the Empress of Aiphela.


    Pretty sure you have to be a dark elf for that.


    Cairn. Theres something


    Jorra stuck his head in. Maya, mom says towoah. He wiggled his eyebrows, and we immediately released hands, stepping away from each other quickly.


    Get out! Maya exclaimed, her cheeks flushed red. Jorra scampered away, cackling. I helped her with her bags, and we prepared to leave.


    Nethtari and Kilvius stood side by side, Agarin squirming in Nethtaris arms. Jorra was teeming with barely withheld jealousy. And Maya was loaded down with a rucksack and a number of other bags, standing on the lift with a dozen other infernals her age. They were awash in a mix of emotions. Some looked cautious, others terrified, but most were practically vibrating, overcome with uncontainable excitement. Kilvius and Nethtari had peppered Maya with last-minute advice on the way there, but now stood silent. Maya hugged each of them, even Jorra, then planted a kiss on Agarins forehead. Ill be back before you know it.


    You best come back after the requisite three months, Nethtaris face was stern. And not a day later.


    I know, mom. Maya took her place on the lift. A violet infernal snapped the entrance rail into place and held out his hand, casting a spell. There was a burgeoning creak of metal, thick cables larger than two fists held together slowly unspooled, and the lift began to descend.


    I waved. See you soon, Maya.


    She waved back, growing more distant by the second. Eventually, the lift disappeared, swallowed by the darkness of the chasm, the only evidence of its continued existence the still unraveling wires


    Feeling strangely forlorn and empty, I turned away from the precipice. Hair prickled on the back of my neck.


    Near the back of the square, Guemon was watching, his expression cold and unreadable.

 Chapter 40: Enclave X

    Chapter 40: Enclave X


    It was with a great deal on my mind that I entered Ralakoss estate. His man-servant, a tall infernal in fitted regal wear ushered me into the sitting room, a gaudy hybrid of lounge and library papered dark red, with golden accents. After a matter of minutes, another estate staff entered with a tray of tea and confections. I took them politely, though Id already come to realize that most infernal preferences in snacks were far too saccharine for my tastes. Even the tea was made from tari root, which gave it a taste and thickness similar to if someone had dumped a dozen caramels into the cup and topped it off with cotton candy. But, I ate them anyway, as Id learned that if I didnt Ralakos would prepare something more to my tastesand I would be stuck in middling conversation for hours longer than necessary.


    Welcome! Ralakos exclaimed, as if he had not seen me only a few days before. He entered the room, two books held under his massive bicep. They almost looked like normal books under his arms, but when he passed them to me the weight alone nearly dragged me off my chair. I grunted, using every muscle in my core to heave them onto the couch beside me. Ralakos slapped me on the back with friendly aplomb, then took a seat across from me, placing his feet up on the table. Nethtari said you had a question for me?


    Yes. I leaned forward. Im hoping to hunt a few asmodials across the surface caverns. Nethtari and Kilvius intend to sponsor me for an emissary


    And you intend to seal some errant demons and use their ashes as a boon. Ralakos said, understanding immediately. He tapped his chin with a finger. Clever. But far too dangerous.


    I chuckled nervously. Dont get me wrong. Id be a fool to take them on by myself. Even if I was foolhardy enough to strike out on my own, there is the problem of their natural resistance to my element.


    Yes, Ralakos rumbled, a pity, as sealing some of those moronic upstarts would certainly send a message.


    I jumped on the opening. Thats why Im hoping you might allow me the use of your men. They go out on patrols and skirmish with the asmodials anyway. Should we stumble across a few them, it would be a simple matter to put the plan into action.


    Ralakos peered at me. And you are confident in your abilities?


    Within reason. At the very least, I would not be a burden. Erdos has been thorough in his tutelage, though he is a difficult to please. I admitted the last part grudgingly. The man was a consummate professional but it was clear from the start he resented teaching memore-so the fact that he was effectively babysitting a child rather than brooding, or stormily staring off into the distance, or whatever the hells it was he usually did.


    Its interesting that you are so primed to crush an uprising beneath your heel. Ralakos said, his tone taking the musical lilt it often did when he was playing devils advocate.


    I scowled. Thats different.


    How so? He asked.


    You told me yourself, months ago, that demons are effectively soulless. They lack any form of empathy. All they respect, in the end, is strength.


    Walk with me, would you? Ralakos asked.


    I stood and followed him through his home and out the backdoor. We walked beyond the practice yard down a clearly aligned path. Unlike the craggy stone ground near Nethtaris home, the stone around Ralakos estate had been quarried out and was instead filled with and imported sod. Before us, in the courtyard, was a massive, spherical gray boulder. There were thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of spherical black outcroppings that looked strangely like


    The first awakening was the easiest. It typically happened within the first five to ten years of a magicians life. The second was much harder, and if it did happen, usually happened within the sanctum. And the third would happen for anywhere between two and three percent of magicians, usually in the last ten years of the magicians life. There were a handful of magicians within the Sanctumancient infernals that had retired from traditional lifewho had reached a fourth awakening, another point for the rate-of-growth argument, Ralakos said.


    Ralakos must have passed on my intentions to Erdos because the mans borderline dour mood had crossed over into the realm of practically intolerable. He pushed me much harder over the coming weeks, and it was rare that I left the training yard able to raise my arms above my head. The infernal fighting style centered around targeting pressure points and opening veins, and he would literally beat the concepts into me until I could barely move. His punitive focus on me was made all the more clear by contrast with the way that Jorra would leave practically unscathed, while I limped away, or on worse days, leaned on him for support.


    It was with this in mind that we waited for him in the courtyard. I meditated, trying to recuperate some of the mana I had lost working on spell weaving earlier that morning, when Erdos finally made his appearance. From the first moment, the interaction was unusual, as he was not alone. A red adolescent infernal dressed in a simple black gi entered with him.


    She looked close to my age. Taller than Jorra, but a bit shorter than me. Clearly, she was related to Erdos in some fashion. She had the same stern face and tightly wound mouth. The infernal walked past us, not even bothering to acknowledge our existence, pulled a curved practice sword from the rack, and began to run through a complex kata, one that Id never seen before. Her motions were liquid smooth, as if shed been practicing every day of her life. The stern face and utter focus reminded me more than a little of Annette, though this girl likely had more physicality in her little finger than Annette had in her entire body.


    Jorra jolted upright, an uneasy expression clouding his face.


    You recognize her? I asked


    Bellarex, Jorra muttered, Erdoss daughter. They say she was born with a sword in her hand. Cut her way out of the womb.


    I laughed, but Jorras face stayed grim. I saw her fight a violet once, at a festival exhibition. A full-grown infernal. Took a beating, but in the end, she shredded him.


    Erdos approached us and we stood. It could have been my imagination, but his face seemed extra smarmy today. He spoke in that annoying nasal tone of his.


    Good morning, children. Erdos said.


    We both stood. Good morning, Master Erdos.


    It has come to my attention that I will be bringing our royal guest along for a little expedition in a few days. Erdoss lip curled. Obviously, not my first choice, but unfortunately this decision is out of my hands. I was able to make Ralakos come to his senses on one particular point, however. He smiled wolfishly, and I suddenly had a strong desire to be anywhere else. To determine whether Prince Cairn will be dead weight, the fair master has agreed to a test.


    And what test is that, Master Erdos? I fidgeted slightly where I sat.


    Its simple. Ill even give you an advantage. Two on one. All you have to do to pass the test is land a hit on that weakling girl. He pointed to where Bellarex had been standing, but she was no longer there. There was a whisper of wind behind me and a sudden flash of danger. I dove to the side, a wooden training sword embedding itself into the ground where Id stood only moments earlier.


    Dirt flew as Bellarex yanked her sword from the ground and spun, body a blur as the wooden sword whistled towards my neck.

 Chapter 41: Enclave XI

    Chapter 41: Enclave XI


    A wave of adrenaline washed over me. Months ago it would have left me shaking and practically useless, but the days spent training with Kastramoth had beaten that weakness out of me ruthlessly. I allowed myself to fall backwards, Bellarexs sword passing over me harmlessly as I rolled away. Still, it would have been over in seconds had Jorras serrated whip not caught the training sword, yanking her off-balance and preventing a follow-up strike. Jorra failed to loosen the sword from her grip, and she wrenched it backwards, pulling him towards her and backhanding him across the face, sending him spinning with a cry of pain.


    I drew my lowhil blade, hesitating. It felt wrong to use metal against wood, but why hadnt Erdos given us time to grab proper training equipment? It suddenly clicked. Erdos didnt want this to be an even fight. He wanted to be able to go to Ralakos and inform him that Jorra and I had lost, using live weapons, against his red daughter.


    Fine. No reason to hold back then.


    I dashed in, trying to stay out of her periphery vision, swinging my blade low at her back leg. Without even looking, she simply picked it up and stepped on the flat of my sword, using the arm that shed backhanded Jorra with to elbow me in the side of the head.


    Stars exploded behind my eyes as I hit the dirt. The whip came untangled from her sword at the worst possible time, and she leapt at me. I called the flame, extending an aegis above me. It immediately cracked on her first hit, shattering on her second. Wood impacted bone with a sickening thud. The aegis absorbed most of the impact, but it hurt badly enough that I knew if I took a hit straight on it would undoubtedly break bone, putting me out of commission for the upcoming raid.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    We could not afford to draw this out. From behind her, I saw Jorra weave a water bomb, flinging it at center mass. I pushed my mana outward and flared a gout of fire at her head, trying to distract her. Again, without looking, Bellarex somehow knew; she flung herself sideways in a tornado of limbs, dodging both spells cleanly.


    I frowned. Either she had eyes in the back of her head or she was using some form of arcane sight. As a red, something that complex should have been beyond her capabilities. So, how was she managing it?


    I closed distance with Jorra, never taking my eyes off Bellarex, until I literally bumped into him.


    Element? I asked him, my voice clipped.


    Best guess? Jorra panted, his whip flicking back and forth. It was mostly metal, but there were resin beads filled with water interspersed along its body, giving him an absurd amount of control. She didnt start flinging spells when we did, despite the opening. So, an aberrant. Void, or something similar.


    I swiped at the trail of blood trickling from my ear in annoyance. It was a bad matchup. Void users were magically deficient, by infernal terms. They could not weave traditional spells. What they lacked in complexity they made up for in savage focus and defense. They could enhance their weapons with dark energy, and more importantly, cancel almost anything that was thrown at them. It was generally a support power, but Bellarex was using it almost exclusively for offense.


    What do we do? Jorra asked, tense. Bellarex had apparently tired of waiting and began to sprint towards us. I took in our surroundings. There was practically nothing to use or burn. Just a training field, filled with dirt. I made a split-second decision.


    Get elevation. Pepper her. Tire her out. Then we do the thing.


    Which thing? Jorra hissed. But Bellarex was already spinning through the air like a hurricane of death and I didnt want to tip her off. Hopefully, hed figure it out from context. I pushed Jorra to get him moving, and took a simple step backwards, avoiding the blow. I flipped Bellarex the raven. Her eyes narrowed hotly.


    And then I turned around and ran full-tilt the other way. It was the one tactic an honorable and well-trained enemy never expected: weaponized cowardice. She was faster than me, but not by much, so it would take her a precious few seconds to catch up. A trail of curses caught up to me first in a stream of nonstop profanity that doubled in intensity and verbosity as Jorra reached the rooftop of the supply shed and began hurling massive, mana-inefficient water-bombs down in her direction.


    I ducked behind Erdos, leering at her from behind him, cackling madly as she tried to swipe at me without hitting her father who watched the whole thing grim-faced and impassive. I faked left and dashed right, leaping over an outstretched kick and leading her in a frantic chase around the training yard. Jorras water-bombs werent accomplishing muchBellarex kept reaching backwards without looking to blindly dispel thembut they maintained pressure and soaked the training yard with muddy puddles.


    I trusted Jorra. Despite not having much combat experience, he had great instincts. But this was a tactic wed only talked about in theory, never practice. I had to cling to the hope that hed read the situation directly and time it all perfectly.


    Then, it happened. Bellarex slipped in the mud, her foot sliding out from under her and driving her to a knee. I reversed direction instantly and plunged my sword in a downward strike, pushing mana out of my hand into a shockwave simultaneously, hoping to keep her down and score a hit. She reached out, hand enshrouded in black, and deflecting the shockwave into the ground, where it threw up a spray of silty water. It left her plenty of time to block my one-handed strike easily.


    Behind my back, I dropped a tiny ball of papersmaller than a fingertipinto the puddle. I spared a glance at Jorra, hoping he got the message.


    You didnt have to, I said, numbly.


    Nonsense, Nethtari said.


    Dont keep us in suspense, Kilvius added, Open it already.


    The box was heavy. I untied the twine carefully and used my fingertips to unseal the paper, careful not to tear it. The box came open easily enough, lifting with a dull pop of air.


    It was a chest-piece, made from a dark, matte material. It was surprisingly light. I knocked on it experimentally. Hard to the touch, but flexible. There were grooves cut into it to further reduce weight. It would not impede my movement in the same way that steel or iron would.


    What is it? I asked, holding it up to the light.


    Cave-maw chitin. Kilvius lifted out a matching pair of bracers and greaves. A full-set was a bit out of our price-range, but we wanted to make sure to cover the important bits. Cave-maws have natural magic resistance, so even if you run into casters amongst the asmodials, it should offer a reasonable amount of protection.


    Nethtari had lectured me on accepting gifts when they were given. Still, it was dreadfully tempting to reject it. It was literally too much. Id lived with them for half a year now. I knew how much they scrimped and saved. This gift, for them, was the relative equivalent of my father gifting me the entirety of the southern provinces. Not to mention their sponsorship for an emissary.


    A lump rose in my throat and silently, I renewed the vow already made many times that I would repay them. Theyd never let me do it directly, and I would not be so uncouth as to try. But by all the gods, old and young, Nethtari and Kilvius were going to get their investment back sevenfold. Id back them from the shadows, whispering in the right ears, manipulating their circumstances, until the scales had finally evened.


    Its beautiful, I said.


    Well, no, its actually kind of ugly. Nethtari laughed in that strange, monotone mirth that was unique to her.


    But practical, Kilvius said.


    Still. Thank you. I wiped my face with my sleeve.


    From deep in the house, Agarin started to cry. Nethtari sighed deeply.


    I stood to my feet quickly. Let me get him.


    You dont have to Kilvius started.


    I want to, I said, happy for a reason to excuse myself.


    As I rocked Agarin to sleep, I cleared the excess emotion from my mind, and centered myself on my goals and next steps. Id collect a boon, find an emissary, join Maya in the sanctum, and finally get some real answers from Morthus.


    All I had to do was kill some demons.

 Chapter 42: Enclave XII

    Chapter 42: Enclave XII


    After fending off their nonstop stream of advice and warnings, I said my goodbyes and headed to Ralakoss estate. Erdos saw me coming and rolled his eyes, making it clear how he felt about my participation in this venture. He passed me by, leaning over to mutter. Just dont get in the way. Stay in the back with the rest of the support group if theres any altercation. And for the lord belows sake, dont cast anything. You set any of my men on fire and theyll never find your body. Now get in line.


    It was clear Erdos was unhappy, but at this point there was nothing he could do about it. Hed made his play with Ralakos and lost. Still, there was something to be said for winning with grace, and I had no reason to go out of my way to annoy him. I gave him a cheeky salute, and he scowled, striding away. Trying to make eye contact with as many of the men as I could as I walked towards the back, I settled in behind them. There were about fifteen in all.


    A strange uneasiness settled in my stomach: it felt like something was wrong, like I was missing something. I shook my head. The paranoia had really started getting the better of me.


    Erdos began to brief us on the situation, going into additional detail in a borderline sarcastic voice as if to spite me. The azmodials were known for being a particularly violent legion, but there were huge gaps of power between their lesser demons and their greater. The demons seemed uncharacteristically hesitant to escalate matters as of late, only retaliating when one of their bases of power were struck. Our goal was not to escalate. We were looking for traces of their main force deep within the the twilight chambers; a series of elven ruins linked by water, several miles past the farthest point of the surface caves.


    That point stuck out to me immediately. I had no idea the elves had ever coexisted with the infernals within the enclave. Obviously, it hadnt worked out, but there had to be quite a story there.


    Erdos finished his briefing, and we set out at a half-jog. He snapped off a command in demonic I wasnt able to parse, and the men picked up the pace. I did my best to stay in line. My gear was light for armor, but it was still armor, and by the time we reached the two longboats at the edge of the surface caverns, I was short of breath. Nowhere near as bad as it would have been only a few months earlier, but still more winded than I would have liked.


    The man beside me bumped my shoulder. Sure are recruiting them short these days. A few infernals nearby chuckled.Updated from


    I blinked up at him. He was massive, pushing seven feet tall, if not cresting it entirely. His helmetthough clearly modified for himwas still a bit too small, given his nose a flattened look. I imagine everyones short to you, giant-kin. What the hells do they even feed you?


    More mirth amongst the men. Well, that was a good sign. Thaddeus told me once to never trust a group of soldiers on the eve of battle unwilling to laugh at a joke. They were likely holding themselves back out of dislike or treachery. Or alternatively, you just werent very funny. It seemed like Erdoss dislike for me wasnt uniform amongst his troops.


    The tall infernal laughed heartily and offered me a blue hand that absolutely swallowed my own. Theros.


    Cairn.


    The strongest fighters and casters entered the first boat, while the rest of us piled into the second. I was genuinely surprised when Theros awkwardly crawled into the second boat, taking a seat beside me. For a moment, the entire boat shifted in his direction, threatening to topple us, before the rest of the men shifted in the other direction and balanced things out.


    Youre on the support team? I asked.


    The man in front of me scoffed and turned around. Theros isnt on the support team, he is the support team.


    The ruins came into crept into view like blackened fingers, massive broken arches and crumbling towers that looped and swayed. Id seen elven architecture before in books, but nothing compared to the real thing. It was always cast in light, rather than this strange, shadowy gloom.


    In the center of the lake was a huge tower, sandwiched between two broken battlements, towering upwards, slatted with a dozen windows. The light from Theross lantern bounced off the water, illuminating one of the windows near the top where a twisted face


    A cold hand clawed at my spine, frigid tendrils working their way down my back. The window was empty, but the image was imprinted on my mind. Something looking down on us. Had it been there, really, or was I imagining it?


    Theros, I whispered, Can you move the light over towards the tower? Or focus it that way?


    What was it? He whispered to me.


    I shook my head. I didnt know.


    Theross eyes flitted to the battlements and towers, the light pointed emitting in that direction becoming more focused, dimming the rest of the beam. A high-pitched stuttering echo bounced off the water, so warped and refracted it was impossible to tell what it had once been.


    Up ahead, Erdos held up a fist, and the boats came to a slow stop, drifting dead in the water. It was so quiet I could hear my pulse in my ears. There was an embankment on the other side, but it was a long swim. My paranoia whispered to me. Slowly, I reached into my pack and removed a potion, eased the cork off, and raised it to my lips, swallowing it in a single gulp. The briny taste went down with a shudder and I felt my heartbeat slow.


    Thump Thump. Thump Thump.


    Thump Thump.


    Thump.


    A half dozen white-hot beams of flame shrieked through the darkness. Theross head disappeared with a sizzle, neck charred and instantly cauterized by the beam. His floating light immediately dissipated, bathing the cavern in darkness save for the dozens of multi-colored spells flinging through the air, reflecting off the water. Theross body tipped over into the water with a large splash. Aron starting screaming, his once deep voice crescendoing in manic terror.


    The first boat had been hit as well, and began to sink. Erdos shouted, voice barely audible over the shrieking of spells and cries of dying men. Get to the shore! A magma orange light as large and round as a boulder arced downwards, faster than anything affected by gravity, slamming into the center of the first ship, capsizing it in a spray of gore. A second light, blue, arced towards our boat.


    The infernals around me jumped into the water in a mess of flying limbs and splashes. I prepared to follow. The last I saw of Aron, he was staring at the incoming projectile like a man entranced by a comet.


    I dove into the frigid water. The explosion came seconds later, rattling my teeth, and turning my vision black.

 Chapter 43: Enclave XIII

    Chapter 43: Enclave XIII


    I felt the darkness call to me. Somehow, I knew, even in the addled depths of my mind, that all I had to do was breathe, and it would all be over. Just open my mouth and suck in, and I could go back to a different time. It had been so peaceful. Studying, learning magic, making new friends. The childhood I never had. The enclave was a civilized place. So different from Uskar.


    Only something had happened that changed all that. Something. I couldnt quite put my finger on it. I didnt want things to change.


    But. Another concept took hold, almost too abstract to cling onto.


    What if I didnt come back this time. I didnt want to die. I couldnt die. There was someone I was supposed to protect. A promise I made. A resolve firmed within me.


    I didnt want to die.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    My head struck something hard and cold. My vision returned. I was floating immersed in water. The memories came back in a flash of panic. I dove into the water, and something exploded.


    A long layer of ice had formed over the surface of the lake, covering my head. My breath burned in my chest, begging for release. Beside me, a dark shape struggled, pounding at the ice.


    Blackened hands, fingers breaking


    I pushed the memory away, turning inward, finding my center. It occurred to me suddenly that Id drank a potion of iron lung. I didnt need to breathe, I just wanted to. I swam over to the struggling shape beneath the water. Overhead, countless projectiles flew back and forth. The ones descending a higher elevation must be coming from the towerwhich meant the lower ones were whatever was left of Ralakoss men, firing from the shore.


    I reached the struggling shape, darting backwards when they tried to cling on to me. Extending my hand out so it was clear to see, I called the flame, holding it to the ice above us. It burned a hole clean through. I widened it a bit, and guided him to itit was Relyre, I thinkthen burned another hole in the ice for myself.


    Air never tasted so sweet.


    I spotted another struggling dark shapeNephdosand did the same for him, and then guided him over to where Relyre was.


    Slowly, carving holes as we went, we moved slowly towards the shore. We made it about half-way. Nephdos was still in a full-blown panic, clawing at the holes, trying desperately to get out when the ice cracked in a dull spiderweb of cracks and fissures.


    Fuck.


    The response was immediate. A spear of magma crashed into the ice, crushing Nephdos and bringing the surrounding water to an immediate boil. My face and arms stung and blistered. I kicked away, Relyre beside me. Something came up behind us in a blur and touched my back. I was propelled forward, body cresting the surface and slamming back into it as a jet of water propelled me forward, gagging and sputtering until I hit the shore, rolling up on it in a tangle of limbs.


    An infernal man I didnt recognize dragged me up by the back of my armor and pulled me towards the rounded bubble Erdos and his men stood insome sort of permeable shield they cast spells through. I hacked and coughed up water. From the side, another man ran up my rescuer and tackled him to the ground, stabbing him over and over as he screamed, glowing orange particles ebbing and flowing as he tried to form a spell, his arm eventually falling slack and extending towards me.


    A fireball hit maybe a yard away, catapulting me to the side. I landed badly, my elbow smashing into my ribs, and something cracked. The ringing in my ears deafened me and for a moment I panicked, spinning around, looking for Thoth amongst the carnage, before realizing how moronic that was. She wasnt here. If she were, Id already be dead.


    My hands were still shaking after hours in the tunnel. I had a cracked rib, and my left hip hitched with every step, giving me a debilitating limp.


    It wasnt a fast process. Relyre would focus on the stone in front of us, small fissures building until it finally cracked open. I used my flame to give him light, but without anything to set on fire the illumination was dismal at best. Relyre had some analysis method to detect parallel caverns in the earthmeaning we at least knew we were heading towards somethingbut that just meant we were being efficient. It didnt do anything to speed up our actual process. He collapsed, panting, spent once again. I reached into my satchel and fished out another stamina potion, handing it to him.


    He took it, bemused. You have a whole apothecary in there?


    That was the last one.


    Damn me for asking, Relyre said. His face was covered in a thin film of dust he no longer bothered to wipe off. We might be close enough that it dont matter.


    Might?


    Might, Relyre confirmed, Its closer than it was before, but farther than Id like it to be.


    I silently reminded myself that the man was saving my life, and it was incredibly improper to go on angry tirades on the subject of specificity to someone in the process of doing you that large of a favor. So instead, pressed my back against the wall as he meditated and tried to regain some mana of my own.


    Finally, I couldnt take the silence anymore. Do you think Erdos is dead?


    Hes a cantankerous old geezer, but Relyres face sagged. There sure were a lot of them.


    Relyre stood and tore the tunnel asunder, finally leading us out of the claustrophobic tunnel into a surface cave. We were still deep in the known cave network, but it felt a damn sight safer compared to where we came from.


    Guemon. I didnt share my suspicions, but it had to be him. I was honestly surprised he hadnt taken a swipe at me earlier. The bastard had bided his time well, but he made a mistake underestimating the sense of duty upheld by Ralakoss men. I started to strategize, running through the most efficient ways to run him into the ground, cursing my lack of foresight for distancing myself from infernal politics since the trial.


    I was so deep in thought I ran straight into Relyres back.


    Relyre? Whats


    Words left me. My gut twisted, awash in nausea. The cavern mouth was elevated by around a hundred feet, providing a full view of the enclave. Above the city, the artificial sun had shifted to a vivid crimson, dyeing the city in bloody rays.


    A thousand dark shapes infested the city like insects.


    The enclave was overrun.

 Chapter 44: Enclave XIV

    Chapter 44: Enclave XIV


    And how dearly they paid.


    Relyre took one look at the city and retreated into the cave, not even bothering to look at me. I couldnt blame him.


    The enclave might have been lost, but I had to try and get Mayas family out. It was the least I could do.


    Slowly, I began making my way down the narrow slope, heading towards the fire.


    ----


    It was late in the evening when I knocked on Seras door. It swung open, and she stuck her head out with a big grinuntil she realized it was me, and the smile faded.


    Expecting someone else?


    What do you want, Cairn? Sera crossed her arms.


    Can I come in? I asked. She didnt answer, so I pushed past her, wrinkling my nose at the disheveled state of her room. A pile of clothes were tossed carelessly on a chest near the window. The maids cleaned every day. I had no idea how she managed to destroy it so thoroughly in such a short time. A half-dozen books on combat, tactics, and swordplay were splayed out spine-up on the floor. There was a bottle of perfume displayed prominently on the desk, as if it had just been used and set-down. When I breathed in, beneath the smell of sweat and musk was a light fragrance of lilac.


    Sera leaned on the wall next to the door, drumming her fingers on the wooden frame. Well? Youve pushed your way in. Taken in your surroundings. Care to lecture me on my treatment of your precious books? Whine at me about my lack of decorum?


    My temper flared. My grip of it had grown dangerously slack since the funeral. Do you go out of your way to be an ass? Or does it just come naturally?


    Seras eyes were frigid. Insults. Fantastic. Now if youre done, I did have plans for the evening.


    Sorry. Its important, Sera.


    Then get to it.


    I shoved the dirty clothes off the chest and took a seat on it, crossing one leg over the other. Im worried about Annette. Ever since the funeral, shes been closed off.


    Sounds like typical Annette. Sera refused to budge from her place by the door, but her face softened a little.


    But its worse than normal.


    She was never normal, Cairn. Always cloistering herself away. Seeing the world through nothing more than pieces on a board, prosaics in a book. Annie is fine. She just needs time to process.


    Oh? And you know this because youve talked to her?


    Sera scowled. Dont do that. Dont ask a slanted question to elicit a particular answer. That was moms thing, and youre terrible at it.


    I didnt dignify that with a response. Sera finally seemed to accept this interaction was going to take longer than a minute and crossed the room, laying face-up on her bed, the mattress squeaking beneath her. She stared up at the ceiling blankly.


    No. I havent even seen her. Sera sighed. I tried once, and she wouldnt answer the door.


    Same. Though Id tried far more than once.


    What do you think she does in there?


    We thought on that for a moment.


    Play herself in Koss. Sera said.


    Reads dusty old tomes on philosophy. I added.


    Makes obliquely cutting comments to anyone in earshot.


    Feeds birds from her windowsill.


    Sera shifted over to look at me. Bullshit.


    I smiled. Elphion as my witness. Its a tightly guarded secret, but she loves animals.


    Just not enough to leave her room to see them.


    Pretty much.


    Well, youve managed to make me feel like a terrible sister, per usual. But what are we supposed to do if she wont talk to us? Sera turned back to the ceiling.


    I bit my lip. I was thinking, maybe if the two of us invited her to the pavilionher territory, she might show up.


    Cairn


    Just, hear me out, okay? I waited, and when she didnt interrupt me again, continued. I get that you dont like me, and thats fine. A lot of the time I dont like me. Mother is gone, and theres no one around to push us into acting like were related. If it was just you and me, then yeah, maybe wed just go our separate ways. But Annette is so young, Sera. Elphion knows father wont be looking out for her. We should at least try to be a real family. For her.


    Fine.


    Fine? I stood and circled to the bed where I could see her face, not quite ready to believe it.


    Sera sat up. She looked uncharacteristically pensive. Yes. Fine. Maybe it wont make a difference, but we can try.


    We set a time to meet in the pavilion. I snuck a glance at one of the many books she had discarded onto her floora philosophical guide for some exotic Panthanian martial practiceand made a note to read it beforehand.


    Much to my surprise, Sera actually showed up. Annette didnt, but we really werent expecting that to happen the first time. The rest of our lives didnt change much. We still ignored each other when we passed in the halls, our interactions limited to polite nothings. But once a week, we sat together and talkedmainly about combat and fighting and tacticsbut it was a damn sight more than wed interacted over the last few years.


    All it took to destroy a month of progress was a single comment.This chapter is updated by


    I made an off-handed joke about how shed make a better prince than a princess. She didnt respond, but the air in the room changed. Id visit the pavilion at the same time for months after.


    Sera never came back.


    ----


    The enclave was filled with the sounds of screams and battle. Errant spells arced upward, forming a multi-color light-show, scarring and pockmarking the surrounding dome. Black, nightmarish demons made of smoke with glowing eyes sprinted across rooftops and leapt onto fleeing civilians, tearing them open.


    I limped through the desolated streets, heading vaguely towards Mayas home. Much of the violence had already passed through the entry sector. Bodies littered the street. Some of them burning with purple flame. Where had it come from? Why was this happening now?


    A slight movement caught my eye. A little girl covered in soot cowered in a shallow alley, face twisted in fear.


    I made my way over to her, approaching slowly. She shied away from me.


    Are you hurt? I asked. Something landed on the roof of one of the buildings next to us with a heavy thud. I grabbed her, placing a hand over her mouth and put my back to the wall, pulling my cloak over my head. A low hiss from above rattled me, and my whole body shivered. Unnaturally long fingers darker than the darkest night, ending in a needlepoint, clutched the side of the roof as somethingstuck its head over the side to look at us. There was a pure, smoldering malevolence in its eyes, and small tendrils that took the place of hair floated below it, as if they were only partially affected by gravity. The little infernal spasmed and yanked away from me. I grabbed for her just a moment too late, cringing as she screamed and ran down the alley.


    The thing above knocked a shingle loose as it scampered, following her. I drew my sword and ranbut it was too late. I came to a stop, horrified, as it landed in front of her, its dark pointed fingers elongated and slashed across her entire body.


    There was a series of impacts as she fell to the ground, one piece at a time. The demon cackled in discordant delight.


    I turned and ran, cursing my failure, lying to myself that one more life didnt matter.


    ----


    I threw up my hands in surrender. You know what? Youre right. I dont know why Im trying to make excuses for you. You didnt lift a finger. Who spends the last year of his wifes life picking fights with elves?


    My father slammed his fist against the palanquin bench. The wood cracked. Do not speak on matters you have no knowledge of.


    Then explain it to me, I said, Im all ears.


    My father exploded in a torrent of words. I was trying to help her, you imbecile! I shrunk back, but now that he had started, he had no intention of stopping. The elves are known for their healers, a fact you might have put together if you werent so busy feeling sorry for yourself.


    I


    Shut up, he growled. Yes, I waged war. I broke oaths. I tracked down their so-called healers, threatened them, razed their villages. It did not matter. The lesser races do not listen to reason. Every single one of them would rather die than raise a finger to help your mother. And die they did. His gaze pierced me, smoldering. Do not dare lay the blame on my head. If you wish to blame anyone, blame yourself.


    I quavered. What?


    You. Did. Nothing. The words struck me harder than any blow. You think you helped by being there? By holding her hand and pretending your efforts, your mewling sympathy, your tortured pathos, made any difference at all?


    Without me, she would have been


    What? My father roared. More dead? Im sure she took great solace in your words as the mana desiccated her body. Surely, she sustained herself on your misery alone.


    Father leaned back against the cushion, anger ebbing into the much more familiar disappointment. Theres always someone to blame, boy. People will coddle you. Theyll tell you its not your fault. That there was nothing more you could have done. And they are lying.


    You I stopped. Because somewhere, in the back of my mind, I saw the truth. It flayed me to my very core.


    He was right.


    There is always something more you could have done.


    ----


    I stood, shaking in the doorway, my shadow long and extended across the room. The scene played itself out before my eyes, written in blood. The door hadnt been forced. Kilvius had opened it willingly. The person with my face entered and drew his sword, striking at Kilviuss back. Hed turned and thrown up his arms in a panic, trying to shield himself. But the attack had been too unexpected.


    They trusted me, after all.


    His arms were riddled with defensive wounds. A section of the wall was torn open from where Nethtari had jumped into the fight, trying to fend the attacker off. Shed been stabbed through the chest for her efforts. Their faces were frozen in a twisted, bloody masks of pain and confusion.


    Jorra was laid face down on the ground, a brutal slash tearing open his shirt and exposing his spine. He saw what happened to his parents, and tried to escape.


    There is always something more you could have done.


    A sob racked me.


    No. Please no. I said it over and over again, staring at the scene, cold fingers of irrationality reaching into my skull and twisting, trying to pull something loose.


    Of course, someone was missing.


    I climbed the stairs slowly, heart pounding, sickness in my gut roiling. The same voice from earlier whispered to me, offering escape. Maybe theyd missed him. Maybe that was the one good thing to come from this I could salvage.


    I entered Agarins room. And something inside me shattered.


    He was


    They


    His face


    I reached down in the bassinet, and stroked his forehead with the back of my hand. Little ringlets of hair bobbed beneath my touch. Gently, I took the little blue blanket and covered him with it.


    Sorry we never got to finish that story, bud. My voice caught.


    She said that if Sir Gantry answered one question correctly, she would tell him the secret of the magical pixie steel.


    The question was: What is justice?


    The thing within me that broke began to boil. Heat flooded my chest, my hands, the backs of my eyes. Rage tore through me like a gale. I let it fill me and consume me and tear out of me. Building blocks and toys swirled around me and the floorboards cracked beneath my feet.


    Every window in the house shattered.


    I sprinted through the streets of the enclave. The wind itself billowed behind me, pushing me faster than I could have ever run without it. Two lesser demons shaped like goblins blocked the path in front of me, and I raised my hand, my lip curled, lifting them in a gust of air and slamming them through the wall of a nearby house.


    There were only two targets I cared about: Guemon, and the monster who wore my face. I donned the rage, reveling in it, letting it wash away the guilt and regret.


    I was so consumed in my thoughts that I missed the greater demon running on the rooftops parallel to me, only seeing the blurred movement for a moment before it tackled me to the ground, its long fingers searing through my body.


    There was pain.


    But more than anything, I felt relief.


    Finally, the darkness took me.


    Again.


    ----


    Shell be back before you know it, Someone said. I sucked in a breath and looked around, completely disoriented.


    Where was I?


    When was I?


    The artificial sun above was no longer dim and crimson, instead emanating warm light. I closed my eyes and bathed in it, letting the warmth wash over me. I thought of Maya. The trust in her eyes when she asked me to look after her family.


    Breaking wasnt an option. So instead, I searched for the anger. I pulled it to me like a cloak, letting it erase my fear.


    Cairns having a moment, Kilvius joked.


    I opened my eyes. Jorra was swatting his fathers hand away, laughing as Kilvius tried repeatedly to pinch at his cheek. Nethtari held Agarin in her arms and was watching me, concern in her eyes. The last time wed all been together like this was immediately after Maya left for the sanctum. Almost a full month ago.


    I had a month.


    Are you okay? Nethtari asked.


    I held my hand out and looked at it. It trembled for a moment, then stilled, motionless. Solid.


    Cairn?


    My mask slipped into place with a mental click. The tension flowed out of my shoulders and I gave her an easy grin. Just enjoying the weather. Its a new day. Here, let me give you a break. I took Agarin from her and thrust him up into the air. He giggled and cooed. Then I tucked him into my arm and began to walk, joking with Jorra about who would get Mayas room while she was gone.


    Beneath it all, the cold rage burned within me, and the wheels of my mind began to turn.

 Chapter 45: Enclave XV

    Chapter 45: Enclave XV


    Everything I had seen, everything that could happenwould happen if I did nothingweighed heavy on my shoulders. It was always there, lurking above me, threatening to crush me if I stopped and really considered it.


    Emotions could only hurt me here. So, I pushed them down. I withdrew within myself, still keeping up the pleasant face for Nethtari and Kilvius. When we entered the house, it was all I could do not to stare at the floor on where they died.


    Hungry, Cairn? Kilvius asked.


    More tired than hungry.


    Have it your way. Kilvius shrugged. As I walked around the spot where Jorra had fallen, I felt Nethtaris eyes on me as I climbed the stairs.


    Id talk to them, eventually. But not yet. The way I started this would be crucial. At the moment, I was the only one who knew what would happen to the city at the end of the month, other than the people involved. The moment I spoke of it to anyoneeven Nethtari and Kilviusthe bottle would be uncorked.


    And Id long since learned the lesson of how hard it was to keep critical information from spreading, let alone information as vital as this.


    I sequestered myself in Mayas room, locking the door behind me. Experimentally, I held out my hand and reached for the wind. Nothing happened. At first, I was frightened that whatever had triggered the awakening had been undone by the reset, but thinking about logically, that made no sense. If it was the case that I received the demon-flame from Maya in the first place, and that carried over somehow, it only made sense that my second element would function similarly.


    Slowly, I walked through the process of what Id done in the Everwood. Isolating the feeling. I no longer needed to feel despair to summon the demon-flame, but it helped. The solution for air was much easier to isolate, though harder to reproduce: Rage. I didnt have to reach for it. It was there, boiling under the surface.


    The slightest breeze extended from my fingertips, barely stirring the curtains. Pretty anemic, compared to what Id done with it in the short time before I died, but at least that proved it was still there.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I unrolled the length of butcher paper Id acquired from the market and knelt over it. The piece of charcoal in my hand snapped in two almost immediately. I swore, fighting a sudden urge to hit something.


    Not productive, Cairn.


    I took in deep breaths. The ticking of the clock in Mayas room needled at me. I had more time than ever before, but the problem was exponentially larger.


    Slowly, I began to draw out a diagram.


    There were three major problems. Firstly, of course, was the attack on the enclave. The demons involved looked similar to how the Asmodial legion had been described to me: Uniformly dark in color with an aura of smoke. Major variations on their shape and size, but the same was true of all legions. They were clearly strong and had torn through the poorer districts like they were nothing, but I had no idea how their strength measured up to the Enclave military.


    I underlined Asmodial Legion, and moved on, writing the word Ambush, in all caps.


    That was the second problem. There were a lot of issues and complications brought on by the ambush in the Twilight Chambers. Granted, the fight was chaotic and Id spent a large chunk of it underwater, but I was relatively certain there were no demons among the attacking force. I wrote No Sigil, in a subheading beneath ambush.


    No one used men like that unless they were doing something off-books. So it was unlikely the council was aligned against meeven if they had been, there were easier ways to kill me. The timing was more than suspect. There was no way the attack on the enclave and the ambush in the tunnel were unrelated. It was simply too improbable.


    Which meant the demons werent acting on their own. But what would it take to incite an entire demonic legion to attack the very people capable of causing them serious long-term issues? I tabled that question for now.


    I looked up at him, blinking.


    He added another blue-gold plant to the clothe-enclosed bundle in his arms. You were making a scary face.


    Just wasted a plant. I held the ruined stalk out to him.


    Sure, but youve looked like that pretty much the whole time weve been topside.


    Ah. The war face.


    Its nothing, I said. It suddenly occurred to me how much I missed Maya. Nothing was going to make this easy, but if she was here it would have at least been easier. I could ask her questions that would be too conspicuous to ask anyone else, bounce ideas back and forth. We worked well together.


    Jorra, I said, chewing on my lip. How hard would it be to get Maya out of the Sanctum?


    Jorra smirked. Missing my sister that much already?


    Hush. Just speaking hypothetically. Is it doable?


    Not really. Youre really not supposed to leave in the first three months, unless you dont plan on coming back.


    What would it look like if you tried?


    Mom and dad would have to send someone in to get her, and even then, theres no guarantee how long it would take that person to find her. The sanctums a big place.


    A dead-end, then. I tossed the ruined stem aside. I figured.


    Guess youll just have to rely on me. He grinned. I gave him a playful shove.


    Only in the worst case scenario, I said.


    ----


    Later that evening, after I smoked enough vurseng to keep me up for the rest of the night, I returned to Mayas room. I found what I was looking for in her closet: the simple black and white mask she had worn in Kholis.


    The brutal truth was, I didnt know the enclave well enough. Id spent so much time practicing magic and learning demonic that Id neglected the city itself, only gleaning the most basic information on how it functioned. And if it was like Whitefall, I wasnt going to learn much of anything walking around in the middle of the day. You learned the most about what made a city what it was by exploring when most civilized folk had long since gone to sleep. The transformation a city underwent after midnight tended to be a much more honest reflection what it actually was, as opposed to what it pretended to be.


    I wrapped my arms in bandages and slid on my cloak. My field of view narrowed as I put the mask on my face. There was so much to do I could barely keep track of it all.


    But for now, it was time to get to know the other side of the enclave.

 Chapter 46: Enclave XVI (Second Draft)

    Chapter 46: Enclave XVI (Second Draft)


    There was nothing I could do about my eyes and lack of horns. Regardless of how discretely I dressed, the eyes would give me away immediately. Thankfully, I was not the only non-infernal within the Enclave. There were a decent number of elves and dwarvessome respectable, here for trade or tourism, others, less so. But ideally, beneath the shade of my cloak and within the depths of the mask, no one would get close enough to see them.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    The fingers of my left hand were on the verge of going numb, the bandage around my left arm wrapped a little too tightly, resulting in a sensation of pins and needles. The outfit, which I was largely cribbing from Maya, was not improper within the Enclave. There was not a direct aspersion amongst the infernals to showing skin as far as I knewthey were just as open about that sort of thing as Whitefall was, if not less prudishbut there did seem to be a disproportionately large number of people sheathing their arms and legs in various manners, despite the relatively warm climate. Long sleeves, leggings, and other coverings were common.


    Whatever the reason, it worked for my purposes.


    I walked at a clipped pace, keeping my head down as I traversed one of the many reinforced rope bridges over the hundred-foot wide fissure that separated the inner-city from the residential. I was careful to keep my distance from any who passed in my vicinity, feeling strangely off-route.


    For months, Id followed the same simple pattern. Anytime I went out in the evenings, I would walk through the lower end district out towards the entrance portal, taking a long winding path that wound around the portal itself towards the surface caverns. While the enclave might have been safer than most cities, it was still a city, and as such, outside the golden districts there was plenty of trouble for a child to stumble into at night.


    But I wouldnt find what I was looking for in the wealthy districts or the surface caves. On the massive, burgeoning list of things I needed, most tantamount was information. The sorts of things that werent filtered through high-handed word of mouth and propagandized heralds. And to find that source, I first needed to find the pulse of the enclave.


    If youre looking for the heart of a city, you need only follow the homeless.


    Never underestimate the usefulness of a beggar. They are often looked down upon but rarely looked at, able to listen and observe where the average person would stand out like a fire at night. They form tight bonds with others of their kind and effortlessly construct the sort of information exchange many a spymaster would kill for, sheerly on the grounds of pursuing their own survival.


    From my first impressions, it was clear that the enclave took better care of them than most. The truly wretched denizens of topside, those who were pockmarked and plague addled, bones protruding from pale skin, bleeding from open sores and mumbling with madness, were practically nonexistent here.


    I saw a red infernal sleeping on a bedroll in open view from within an alley, his satchel in clear sight, held loosely within his arms. That he held his possessions tightly mattered less than the fact that he held them at all instead of stashing them somewhere. He was comfortable enough to sleep in the open without worry that anyone properly motivated and morally deficient might steal it from him.


    This was as good of a place as any to start, and an opportunity to practice.


    The nascent character Id been toying with began to take root. My name was Sontar Eltoris, half-elf. Id been separated from my sister Tamara years ago when we were both driven from our tribe on the account of our heritage. After assisting a minor arcane merchant lost in the Shawbury Bog, I had traveled with him, proving my worth in various ways. He eventually offered me a place as a servant. Thanks to his gratitude Id been allowed into the enclave. But the wages were poor and my patience had worn thin, and I now searched for a way to line my purse and continue the search for my lost sister, who, last I heard, had headed to Brelmore, a town known for being tolerant to our kind.


    I tapped the man on the shoulder then immediately took a step backwards and crouched down, making myself look as friendly and unintimidating as possible.


    Good evening my friend, I said, apologizing silently to Tamara for the shameless theft of her accent. Or should I say, good morning.


    The man stirred slowly at first, then his eyes landed on my mask, and he jolted awake, rising to a sitting position. His left horn was chipped, black giving way to dull white.


    Whadya want? He asked, his voice still bleary from sleep.


    To apologize for rousing you from your slumber, but it was a necessary thing. I smiled at him. My face was covered, but hopefully, he could see it in my eyes. I reached within my purse, intentionally stirring it so it clinked heavily and pulled out a single silver. The mans fear faded to guarded interest. We have business to discuss.


    Pure, unadulterated id was on full display, washed in radiant pinks and lumen-lit purples. There was more variety in this crowd than anywhere else in the enclave. Infernals, elves, and dwarves, all pushed together in a sea of bodies. Merchants peddled honey figs, stimulants, and performance enhancers, advertising their products shamelessly, often across the street from establishments with hackneyed names such as The Devils Tail, Demons Caress, and The Split Tongue. Masculine and feminine bodies gyrated on silver stages, dressed in skin-tight silks, silhouetted by too-bright lighting. The entire block was heavy with the scent of smoke and sweat and sex.


    I felt my face growing red beneath my mask. Yes, Whitefall had its share of vice, but it was generally discreet and spread out amongst the city. The openness and scale of this place shocked me.


    In the center square, a large, muscle-bound infernal laid supine on what looked like a physicians table. In a flash of horror, I thought he was strapped to it, before realizing that his binds, were handles he gripped voluntarily. A disinterested looking elf dressed in dark clothes and a brown leather apron selected a series of tools from a nearby standing tray and went to work on him, her back to me, blocking the view. The surrounding crowd cheered.


    Feeling equal parts nauseous and curious, I circled around for a better look.


    With a deft, practiced touch, she placed a series of glowing blue needles in a series of complex parallel patterns along his arm. The flesh within the patterns seemed to frost over, turning a dull gray. Then she began to carve the grayed section with a scalpel, removing the topmost layer of skin, revealing red beneath. I nearly gagged, but the crowd around me shouted and jeered as if this was nothing more than trite entertainment. The elf picked up something from the standing tray that looked like a chrome calligraphy pen. She dipped it in an inkwell and drew black lines across the edges of the open flesh. The man on the table began to writhe as, slowly, inky blackness filled the wound. By the time she finished, his left arm was discolored and swollen, covered in jagged demonic text.


    The process was harrowing, and I now understood why Maya had reacted so strongly when I mentioned the possibility of inscription magic.


    The duality of this place compared to the rest of the enclave was staggering. How exactly did this coexist alongside the respectable, scholarly city Id come to know? I had no idea what legal status of the flesh-trade was here, but was fairly certain the merchant peddling opiates out of a repurposed food stand had to be breaking a few laws. And was that banshee powder?


    It was almost funny how unaffected I was by all of it. A year ago, I would have been thrilled, lost myself in this place, thrown myself face-first into it. Now, I wasnt even tempted.


    Maybe it was because Lillian was alive.


    Maybe Id just grown up.


    All I could think of was what would happen at the end of the month if I failed.


    Wading through the sea of bodies, I finally spotted the establishment I was looking for. A bar called the glistening gate. It was practically abandoned, save a cluster of drunken infernals in the back corner.


    I asked for Persephone and was practically shoved into a connecting room.


    A woman clad in a long flowing dress, printed with flowers, turned towards me, taking off a pair of glasses and closing the book in her lap. Half of her face was beautiful, with the dreamlike features of a Panthanian skywriter. The other half had the smoky black quality and bright blue eye of an asmodial demon. Her arm was dark, her fingers pointed.


    My heart thudded in my chest.


    Im very curious to know, She said, her voice throaty, Who told you my name and why?


    Thinking back to the strangely informed little elvish girl, I realized I wanted an answer to that as well.

 Chapter 47: Enclave XVII

    Chapter 47: Enclave XVII


    It almost worked.


    I approached her with practiced ease, as if my first instinct hadnt been to run from the room. Instead, I bowed low.


    I apologize, Lady Persephone. My master is in the market for an information broker. Someone gave me your name, but they did not warn me. I let the words hang in the air between us.


    After a pregnant pause, she closed on me in a blur of motion, pinning me against the door. A long black finger extended to a needles point, drawing a bead of blood from my throat. Her tone was dangerous. Warn you of what, little elf?


    Of how utterly breathtaking you are. I looked up at her then, attempting an expression that past lovers had referred to as a smolder. I was careful to focus on the human side of her face, attempting to take the demon side of her face out of focus.


    Her mouth quirked, and she nearly fumbled her glasses, gawking at me. Then she started to laugh. It was a light, easy laugh. For the second time that night, I felt my cheeks growing red beneath my mask. She wasnt buying it. I scowled and looked away.


    Oh, no. Please. She wiped tears out of her eyes. Im not laughing at you, little elf. Well. I am. But more due to how earnest that was. Perhaps it is the mask confounding my senses, but for a moment, it sounded like you actually believed it.


    But I do believe it, I said, not having to fake feeling wounded. I languish in the golden deluge of your hair, the low music of your voice, the secret smile at your lips.


    And what of my other side, little one? Persephone asked quietly.


    It uh fills me with starless excitement and longing. The promise of a night fulfilled, and a whisper of a danger treasured.


    Damn it.


    Her lips turned downward at that and I knew that I had erred. The disappointment was clear on her face. She gave off the energy of a predator, finally boring after toying with me for entertainment. So, I would damn well entertain.


    I jumped back in before she could speak.


    But I am not finished. I took several steps forward. Persephone rolled her eyes, clearly tired of the game. Your true beauty is held in neither side, just as assuredly as it is held in both.


    Oh? Persephone raised an eyebrow.


    Your true beauty is held in the dichotomy between. You are both danger and gentleness, darkness and light, green and blue. I looked between the blue eye of an asmodial demon, and the green one. There are many people in this world that can claim to be any of those things. Yet, very few that manage to be both.


    Interesting. Most men tend to focus on one side or the other. They play up my beauty, or my demonic nature. You are the first to attempt to take me at my whole.


    Then they are fools, I said, vehemently, my elven accent thickening with manufactured irritation. Then, I waited, my breath held.


    Persephone removed her jagged finger from my throat, slowly. She replaced her spectacles and smiled. I suppose Ive toyed with you long enough.


    I let out an audible sigh of relief. Thank Elphion for that.


    Thats what you get for showing up in a ladys chambers uninvited.


    If you say so. I rubbed at my throat. Can I get a water or something?


    Of course. Never let it be said that the owner of the glistening gate is a poor host. She sauntered to the table and poured me some water and herself some brandy. I took a seat on the couch, trying to still my nerves.


    You know, at first, I took you for a child. Persephone crossed her leg over her knee in a graceful movement.


    Oh? I said carefully, lifting the mask just enough to take a sip from my glass.


    The height threw me. But you dont sound like any child Ive ever met. Not to mention the distinct lack of wailing and crying when I tested your resolve.


    That was an interesting way of putting it, I mused darkly.


    Well, my mother was a pixie, so relatively speaking Im actually quite tall.


    Persephone chuckled into her glass. The logistics of that must be complicated.


    Out of sheer petty spitefulness for the scare shed given me, I waited until shed taken a drink.


    They say it was a difficult labor.


    Persephone coughed, covering her face and glaring at me suspiciously.


    Still, I had to ask. So, why havent you?


    Perhaps it is because Ive learned by now that pointless murder brings more trouble than it is worth. Or perhaps, it is because you lie so well, my dear Sontar. The edges of her eyes crinkled. If I killed you, I would find myself unable to peel the layers back and discover for myself what makes you tick.


    A long, uncomfortable silence passed.


    Can I get some more water?


    Certainly. Persephone refilled my glass.


    I tapped my finger against the cup, feeling the coolness of the condensation against my bandaged fingertip. There was no question that the woman before me was a threat. Id seen what those shadowy claws could do to a person. It was doubtful that an aegis would stop them for more than a moment before shattering. But something was wrong with my mind. It was like the part of my me that felt terror was still numb from everything I had witnessed before the reset.


    I needed to be careful.


    As if reading my thoughts, Persephone spoke. Youre not afraid of me.


    I grinned, falling back into Sontars cockiness. I can think of worse ways to die than at the hands of a beautiful woman. Much worse ways.


    Vacuous.


    Unabashedly.


    Persephone leaned forward. This time, I did not look down. Having heard the truth, are you sure you wish to continue along this path? Assisting your master with this doomed task?


    It is out of my control. I leaned forwards, mirroring her. I need gold to leave the enclave. My wages are hardly fair, but there are not many here willing to pay my kind at all.


    She sighed. It always comes down to money, in the end. And here I thought you were interesting.


    I shrugged.


    Persephone crossed the room and sat next to me, uncomfortably close. She smelled like freesia and something else unidentifiable. I can ask aroundits certainly within my purview, but this information will not be free.


    It didnt surprise me, but I grimaced all the same. The fund issue needed to be resolved as soon as possible.


    My master is happy to pay, of course. Depending on the sum, it might take some time to


    You misunderstand me, darling. Persephone traced a line down my arm, ghostly needles of her black arm scratching lightly against the fabric. I fought the urge to run for the door. I could use an outsider in my line of workand from what I understand, you have a bit of a monetary issue. Why not knock the price down a bit and kill two birds with one stone?


    It was the last thing I wanted, and normally, I would have never agreed to it. Agreeing to put yourself at the mercy of someone literally tied to the enemy. But realistically speaking, this was exactly the sort of risk I could afford to take. It never mattered when I died in the Everwood, as long it was before the cutoff point. I always ended up returning to the same moment. It was a dangerous way to think. But my options were limited.


    What do you need me to do? I asked.


    Come back in a few days. I should have something for you.


    Persephone gave me the information for several inscribers in case I was interested in acting on my interests, then stood and returned to her desk.


    Feeling that our meeting was over, I turned back towards the door.


    Your accent is off, by the way.


    I froze.


    Not by much. It was bothering me for most of our conversation, and I only just put my finger on it. Its got all the trappings of Derile, but the vowels are off, too elongated, closer to rustic Paredor.


    I let Sontars irritation flood to the surface. My family was from Derilian plains, but we didnt stay there. Mother and father led a traveling bazaar, acquiring folk from many tribes along the way, with many manners of speech. Not that its any of your business.


    Persephone smiled, though she did not look up from her book. Not a moments hesitation. Angry, but not over the top. Yes. I think well get along just fine.


    Once a suitable distance from Mayas home, I ducked into a nearby alley to remove my mask and cloak. The artificial sun had begun to rise. I felt drained and exhausted. I pushed it away, walling off the exhaustion in my mind. There was something I needed to do.


    Nethtari and Kilviuss face flashed in my mind. Maybe it was a bad decision, but I didnt want to hide things from them any longer. This was too big for me.


    It was time for a family meeting.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only

 Chapter 48: Enclave XVIII

    Chapter 48: Enclave XVIII


    I thought about sneaking back in the house through the window, but what was the point?


    Kilvius eyed me as I walked through the front door. He returns.


    And here I thought Id have to explain to the council how our family lost the single most important guest to grace our presence in the last ten years. Nethtari clucked her tongue.


    Emotion burned in my chest. I wanted to joke with them. Act like nothing was wrong. Put this conversation off for just one more day. But I kept seeing the bodies, strewn across the floor.


    There is always something more you could have done.


    I rallied against my fathers words. He was wrong. The first time had not been my fault. Perhaps I could have been more vigilant, but my efforts would have been so unfocused and anemic they likely would have led to the same outcome.


    No. The first time was not my fault. But every time after would be. The responsibility of it all rested on my head, and mine alone.


    My fist clenched and I looked down at the floor.


    Kilviuss empty eyes stared up at me, confused, hurt. He reached for his wifes cold body.


    I fought back a sob.


    Nethtari closed the cupboard she had opened with a slow creak. She approached me slowly, tugging on Kilviuss sleeve. Cairn. Whats wrong?


    Slowly, the knuckles of my hand creaking, I unclenched my fist.


    I had a vision.


    Over the next hour, I slowly walked them through the details of what had happened. It was tedious and painful, like treading on broken glass. On an almost fundamental level, it went against everything I was trying to accomplish in that household. I didnt want to bother these people. I wanted them to be safe, be happy. They didnt take me seriously at first. Kilviuss face was animated, visibly reacting to every new piece of information. Nethtaris expression, however, grew colder and colder.


    It wasnt hard to recite specific details. I saw much of it every time I closed my eyes. When I came to the details of what had happened when I arrived at this house, those details grew more fuzzy.


    And Nethtari picked up on it immediately.


    And what direction did you approach the house from? Nethtari asked, her voice clipped.


    The front.


    So you approach from the front. Someone exits. The auric sun is red, signifying a state of emergencynot disabled, so there should be plenty of light. In the short time between when you saw them and ducked down, you didnt see their face?


    No. I said.


    So some infernal just slaughtered my family and walked out of the house.


    Hard to say if it was an infernal or not.


    Nethtaris eyebrow shot up. Thats a strange point to make, seeing as how we make up the vast majority of the population within the enclave.


    Nethtari Kilvius started, but she held up a hand to silence him.


    Cairn, Ive been a solicitor for nearly twenty years. Long enough to know when someone is lying to me. Nethtari said. It was very close to the tone Id heard her use with Guemon at my hearing.


    Everything Ive told you is true.


    I have also done this long enough to know that theres more than one type of lie. A lie by omission, for instance.


    It will muddy the waters. I gripped the lip of my chair, my knuckles turning white.


    How could the identity of the person who killed my children be anything but productive?


    Kilvius looked between us, sensing the tension. What Nethtari is trying to say, is


    Im not trying to say anything, Kilvius. Nethtari said quietly. Im saying it. Cairn is withholding information, despite the seriousness of the situation. I would very much like to know what that information is.


    It was interesting how parallel their beliefs were to the elven religious beliefs around the afterlife. Only, unlike the elves, the infernals didnt have any chance of achieving nothingness. Their goal was to live decent lives to minimize the time their souls spent in the after-life.


    It wasnt so unlike the human myths of Valhalla, only humans seemed to take the idea of a never-ending battle as a positive thing, an honor reserved for those of the highest regard. A year ago, I dreamed of Valhalla. Mornings of glorious battle alongside the demigods, garnished with banquets and evenings lounging with Lillian within the Elysium halls.


    But that was before I had tasted what a fighting really was. That had changed things.


    The main difference between Hades and Valhalla seemed to be that the infernals did not pretend it was anything other than what it was. Eternal anguish and bloodshed. Given the choice, Id happily take the Elysium halls over Valhalla.


    Why would Guemon do something so rash for such a short-term gain? I asked. For that matter, why attack his people so brutally? There are easier ways to frame me, if thats what hes looking to do.


    Motive aside, we have bigger problems. Nethtari stood, glancing out the window. Members of the high council are subjected to scrutiny, mainly to prevent exactly this sort of thing to scrutiny. There are wards in place to establish whether an infernal has sold their soul. There are also defenses that are meant to trigger in the event of an uprising. All members of the high council can activate them through magical means, as well as the council itself should it reach a majority.


    But that didnt happen. So, youre saying, for the vision to come to pass I mused.


    All members of the high council, save Guemon, would need to be dead. But the upside is, that means the binding has not yet taken place. The attack on the enclave is not yet set in stone. Nethtari smiled grimly. But this is too big of a problem for us, Cairn. We need to bring in Ralakos.


    I hesitated. But, the leak


    I know. Nethtari said. I think I can impress upon him the need for discretion. Hes a bit of a skeptic, so its likely better to keep the foresight business to yourself. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. If Maya was not so utterly convinced of it, I likely would not believe it either. But there are too many details to your story, things youd have no way of knowing. Well cook up some sort of story for him. Ill need to think on that. If possible, we need to locate an asmodial outside the purview of the masters.


    I nodded. Already working on that last order of business. I started building up an information network last night, its small, but growing. And I made a contact in the thulian district that who may prove helpful. Gold is going to be an issue eventually, but I have some ideas on how to remedy that.


    They both slowly turned to look at me.


    Cairn, when, exactly, did you have the vision? Kilvius asked.


    Uh. Yesterday. A little after we left Maya at the lift.


    Well, he doesnt waste any time. Kilvius laughed.


    He should have said something. Nethtari eyed me judgmentally. Whos this contact you made, while prowling the thulian district like a misguided youth?


    I shifted uncomfortably at the memory. Her name is Persephone.


    The atmosphere in the room immediately grew cold. Nethtari looked at Kilvius. Kilvius looked down at the table idly, drawing patterns into it with his fingers.


    Did you? Nethtari started.


    Nope, Kilvius said.


    Are you certain?


    Havent said a word about her, havent thought about her in years.


    So of all the dive bars in the district, he just happened to stumble into hers?


    I wouldnt lie to you, Nilend.


    I cleared my throat. Im uh, sensing a bit of history here.


    Kilvius tried to make eye-contact with Nethtari, but she looked away towards the papered wall. He sighed. Once upon a time, I lived a very different life. Persephone was part of it. Then I married Nethtari. And I now have three beautiful children. The end.


    Im sure I could have filled volumes with the quantity of story Kilvius was leaving out, but decided it was better not to press my luck, at least not with Nethtari present.


    We briefly covered what the next steps would be. Nethtari would bring Ralakos into our little conspiracy. Ephira was best avoided for now, until we had a better idea of where she stood. Nethtari thought she would likely come down on our side eventually, wholesale slaughter being universally bad for business. Guemon and his men were to be avoided at all costs. Id continue working the angle with Persephone to try and get a line on the asmodialsdespite Nethtaris protests. And Kilvius would get me in touch with some of his old contacts, though I was still a little gray on what exactly that meant.


    Any other bombs to drop, Cairn? Before breakfast turns into lunch? Nethtari asked dryly.


    Now that she mentioned it, there was one last thing.


    Oh. I also had my second awakening.


    The tension broke. Nethtari threw her hands up and walked away, while Kilvius laughed.

 Chapter Enclave Status

    Chapter Enclave Status


    I need to take a few days to re-outline enclave. It was originally slated to be about thirty chapters, but at the current pace it''s looking closer to fifty, which is just too long for a single arc. So I need to figure out what I can cut and what I can keep. As tempting as it is to barrel ahead and keep pumping out chapters, I want to keep the level of quality high. I''ve also heard you guys on your feedback regarding Cairn''s inner thought process on recent chapters, and will be editing that as well so it''s a bit more consistent, though I still hold to the idea that he''d regress a bit, given his current circumstances. We''ll be back on schedule in a few days. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter And were back.

    Chapter And were back.


    Hi folks. Sorry for the wait. It took a little more effort than expected to rework Enclave. I was also dealing with some personal stuff that triggered a lot of self doubt and made it hard to focus on writing.


    You guys are the best. Thanks for supporting and believing in my story. I''ll be better about keeping you all updated in the future, but for now we are back on schedule :). This chapter is updated by

 Chapter 49: Enclave XIX

    Chapter 49: Enclave XIX


    I found myself wondering how my father did it. At some point in his life, he must have felt something. Guilt at the very least, if not remorse. Yet, he remained completely unflappable and unconcerned. I could chalk it up to him being a homicidal monster, but in reality, that wasnt true. He didnt care for his children, but Id seen him treat my mother kindly on more than one occasion, when there was no pragmatic reason for doing so. He had sired a few wartime bastards in the early years of their marriage, but there were no whispers or rumors of more recent indiscretions. So it stood to reason that he felt something for her. Thus, reductively speaking, he felt something. Just less.


    I didnt want to be like my father. The very idea of it was nauseating. But if it meant quieting the ocean of turmoil within me, maybe there was something to be learned from him.


    If youve recovered enough, try to unsettle the target. Ralakoss deep voice roused me from my thoughts, back to the matter at hand. I focused, digging deep for the rage, sending the ocean of my mental landscape into an uproar. I let it flow outward towards the paper construction on a table five feet awaya horse made from folding paperand felt a slight adulation as the current of air rippled through the hairs on my arm.


    The paper horse lifted onto its back legs, as if intending to rear-up, only to suddenly and anticlimactically change its mind. I growled deep in my throat, fist clenching in frustration. I could remember it like it was yesterday, picking up the demons like they were nothing and hurling them to the side. The difference between that night and today was so drastic it was almost painful.


    What had changed?Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Ralakos was delighted to hear the news of my second awakening, tossing around overly complimentary terms like, Prodigy, and, Genius. Words that had generally never been applied to me before. His enthusiasm shined brightly, even when he witnessed the paltry nature of my current ability. I didnt understand why. Compared to the demon-fire, air magic was practically useless, even in its most raw elemental formwhich was, coincidentally the only form I could use. I mumbled something along those lines to Ralakos, who just shook his head in that infuriatingly cryptic, sage manner of his.


    You are being too practical by half. What would you say of a miner who discards a gem embedded in stone for the exposed bronze that lay next to it, just because it is less bothersome to trade? Ralakos asked.


    A terrible miner, I groused. His expression turned chiding and strangely morose.


    Yes. Because only a fool trades exponential long-term growth for short-term gain.


    In something of a rare series of events, hed escorted me past the personal library we typically held our lessons in, up the long winding stairs of the foyer, and through a maze of halls to a private training area adjacent to his study.


    I took this to mean he was finally taking me seriously.


    Instead of traditional targets like straw-men or rings, there were a series of crystal spheres that measured magical output to the decimal point. Some of them stood alone on posts. Others were mounted on the branches of something that looked very much like a wire tree. The idea was, when you hit it, it would rotate, forcing you to adjust your aim for movement while measuring the strength mana imbuing the element.


    Ralakos admitted to me they werent particularly accurate for anything other than measuring raw output of mana. He demonstrated this by casting three spells. A simple fire bolt, a spout of water, and a rock the size of my fist. The level of force exuded by his magic increased exponentially with each spell, ending with the boulder, which sent the iron tree spinning frantically. Yet, each of them showed the same number. The demonic marker for twenty-five, exactly halfway on the scale.


    A marker of one was so small even the most recently awakened child could manage it, while a marker of fifty generally only resulted from the type of spells you were better off not casting inside, especially in a warded room.


    But even in elemental form, the slight breeze that resulted from my attempt at air magic didnt even register. In a flash of heat, I sent a simple fireball at the nearest target sphere. It lit up with a dull red, showing the indicator for thirteen.


    No matter what I tried, the gust of air didnt summon a number. Hence, the paper horse. Casting air magic felt fundamentally different than demon-fire. Demon-fire felt like creating something from nothing. One moment it was there, the next, it was gone. Air magic was like trying to access an invisible and intangible network that connected the world. It just felt too big.


    I tried everything. Compressing it in my palm down to a single point and using my hands to shape the direction. Putting more muscle into the movement. It felt silly and childish.


    Worse, it took significantly more mana than the demon fire. In less than a half-hour Id tapped myself out, sweat beading on my forehead, my vision graying around the edges.


    And the stupid horse hadnt moved.


    Things have changed. Back then, you represented a vague packaging of unpleasantness with little upside. Then you demonstrated your value. That little trade deal with the dwarves was a stroke of brilliance. Ralakos drew water from an octagonal receptacle in the corner. The water flowed around his arms in a diagonal loop. I watched, feeling more than a little envious. Spell weaving was often beautiful to look at, filled with complex motions and intricate entwining of mana and elemental particleselemental was, by comparison, rather crude. But Ralakos was hadnt generated this water, he had drawn it, meaning that what I was seeing was pure elemental manipulation. The level of control was unbelievable.


    Youre not worried about her at all? I asked dubiously. The water jumped from receptacle to receptacle, occasionally reversing or defying gravity altogether.


    Ralakos scoffed. Im always worried about Ephira. The woman is as attached to gold as she is unbound from reality. Theres no trusting a person like that. Predicting them, on the other hand, is easy.


    I mulled that over, feeling the strange prickling of my pores as I absorbed the surrounding mana from the air. If material gain is her goal, its possible that she is being bribed by an outside entity.


    The water darted at my face, and I dodged, glaring at Ralakos.


    Just making sure youre maintaining presence of mind, Ralakos said. And youre massively underestimating the amount of gold generated by the sanctum, and by extension, Ephira.


    It was true that I didnt know much to that end. There was so much nuance to the arcane side of the Enclave that I hadnt paid much attention to the economics.


    So she cant be bought.


    He waggled a finger at me. I didnt say that. More that the price to buy her is likely so exorbitant that any looking to do so would likely resort to other means. Blood is always cheaper than diplomacy.


    The water hopped towards the container nearest me, directly over the paper horse. I reached out one last time with the air, picturing a sideways cup. The stream of water impacted the invisible barrier and rained in a deluge down onto the paper horse below, knocking it over.


    I nearly let out a whoop of triumph beforein a demonstration of insufferable showmanshipthe stream of water seemed to move in reverse down to the movement of the individual drips, gathering on the podium and righting the paper horse. I watched, slack jawed, as the constructed paperonce waterlogged and flattenedbecame as dry as the moment Ralakos had built it.


    I glared at him.


    Thats cheating, counselor.


    Besmirching a respectable infernals honor. How crude. Ralakos said, flicking his wrist absentmindedly and sending the stream of water back into the original stone receptacle You know, I just realized what you need.


    What?


    Accessing a newly awakened element is difficult for any magician, but it should not be this difficult. You have not been classically trained, so that explains the lack of potency. Still, having seen the dantalion for myself, your abilities should not be this deficient. I would wager self-doubt is your primary obstacle. Stress is a factor of course, it always is, but at the moment you are having trouble feeling the element itself.


    So whats the solution? I asked. It hard to pin down what works when nothing I do seems to result in significant gain.


    If you yolk an ox, they learn quickly how to make efficient movements to lessen the strain of the load. You need a yolk.


    I suddenly had a vague notion of what he was talking about and shivered slightly, remembering a wooden sword striking the ground so hard it kicked up dirt.


    You need a void magician. And I know just the one. Ralakos smiled.

 Chapter 50: Enclave XX

    Chapter 50: Enclave XX


    I was not unfamiliar with the way these things worked, though most of my knowledge came from authored retellings rather than the real world. Of course Persephone wouldnt trust me right away. Shed string me along for a bit, test my patience and my ability to keep my mouth shut, then eventuallymaybegive me what I wanted.


    The thing was, in the stories Id read the initial favors were supposed to be small. Meaningless things. Like acting as a lookout, or gathering information.


    But no, Persephone had skipped a few steps, and now I was roped into a plot to burgle a heavily guarded home, cursing her name, mentally preparing to commit high-risk larceny.


    Id stared at the imprints shed handed me blankly, not quite believing what I was seeing. Sorry, you want me to do what?


    Its a sapphire. About the size of a pomegranate. A dark, elongated finger stroked the depiction of the sapphire lovingly. I want it.


    Yes, I said, my accent thick. And I would love to live in a world where the dark elves did not drive us from Panthania all those years ago, yet we do not always get what we want.


    Dont be mouthy. Persephone sniffed.


    It is not a matter of being mouthy, it is a matter of survival. I insisted. This thing. It is nothow do you sayproportional.


    Oh? And the information you seek is so simple and consequence free? Persephone arched an eyebrow and took a seat on the table next to me. Anyone with any knowledge of the asmodials is to bring it to the attention of the high council immediately. Withholding that knowledge is tantamount to treason. And Im hardly asking you to commit treason. Just bring me one little gem.


    I gawked at her. Big gem. This is a big gem. Stolen from a woman I do not know, in a place I am unfamiliar with, with a plan that is not mine and the help of men I do not trust.


    Persephone blinked owlishly, as if my observations were completely unfair. I thought youd appreciate the resources at my disposal. Youre welcome to bring an associate of your own if you have any. Her smile was feral and victorious. She had somehow reasoned out that I was operating on my own.


    Why do you want it? I asked.


    Thats irrelevant.


    Fine. This is all I have to do? I get you this sapphire, and in return I get access to the asmodials. You will not go back on this?


    You have my word. She glowered at me, then placed three golden rods on the table with a clink. Ill even throw in a bonus. To endow your escape fund.


    And that was how I ended up recruiting a fourteen year old into a life of crime. Look, I get it. I know how it sounds. But without Maya, my options were limited. Kilvius was nowhere to be found. Nethtari would have looked at me like Id grown horns. All I had to do, however, was mention the word Heist to Jorra and he was enthusiastically onboard.


    He bounded around his room, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over his shoulders like an oversize cloak. This the best day ever! What are we stealing, who are we stealing it from? Do we have a code word?


    Head in my hands, I was already regretting this decision more by the minute.


    We are not stealing anything. Im going into a situation where there are many external factors and no constants for me to fall back on.


    You can just say youre going into a risky situation. Jorra looked at me dubiously.


    Yes, but Im trying to avoid exciting you further. I sighed. My point is, I need at least one person I can rely on, and that person is you.


    This friendship is paying out already. Jorra grinned and jumped onto his bed, blanket trailing behind him like a cape. I watched, unamused, as he did his best impression of either a dragon, or some sort of large bird, complete with high-pitched undefinable sound effects.


    You know what, Ill ask Ralakos for help. I turned to go.


    Jorra leapt off the bed and tackled me, nearly toppling me. There was actual desperation in his eyes.


    Cairn. You cant just talk about something like that then cut me out of it. Come on. Just give me a shot.


    I gave him a level gaze. I need to know youre taking this seriously.


    Done. Jorras expression went completely stoic, his voice monotone, doing an excellent impression of his mother.


    Fine. I held a sack filled with empty glass beads out to him. Talk to me about the range on your water.


    Youve seen it before, in the surface caves. I back up as far as I can until I can no longer sustain it.


    I considered that. The cave we practiced in was large, not massive, but at least big enough for our purposes. From what I remembered Jorra covered at least half of it. A hundred feet at the very least. But, as Maya had engrained in me, magic had limits.


    Is it affected by line of sight? I asked.


    A bit? Jorra scratched his head. If its water Ive summoned with mana, I can almost always sense it for a few hoursmy tutor says thats a rare traitbut sensing it without being able to see is pretty above me.


    I frowned. That wasnt quite ideal. I wanted Jorra as far away from the action as possible; functioning externally as a remote alarm system. Id intended to have him fill a glass bead with summoned water, then place the bead in my pocket, so he could use it to alert me if anything seemed out of the ordinary. From what he was saying, that simply wasnt going to happen. As much as I wanted to avoid it, he would need to come with me after all.


    What?


    Even by wealthy Whitefall standards that was paranoid.


    Why the heavy security? I asked.


    Shear shrugged. Percy didnt tell you much, did she? Every precious gem recovered from the sanctum and lower caves goes through Mifral. Shes the resident baron around these parts when it comes to the gem trade. Makes an absolute killing.


    I reached up to squeeze the bridge of my nose absent-mindedly, fingers knocking off the surface of my mask and further souring my mood.


    This was not what Id signed up for. But there was too much time invested to back down now. I was beginning to regret ever meeting Persephone.


    And wheres the sapphire located?


    Shear and Ginger shared an uncomfortable look.


    Thats the bad news. Ginger grimaced.


    We dont know. Shear said.


    I stared at them both.


    Adage? I said. Jorra didnt respond. Adage! I snapped my fingers and he jumped.


    Uh, yes? Jorra tried far too hard to make his voice sound deep, and it came out sounding strangled.


    I looked back to Shear and Ginger. I think were leaving.


    Now, now, dont be that way. Shear held both hands palms out, placatingly.


    Let em go Shear. Bunch of short-ass pusses. Ginger said.


    Shut up, dwarf, Shear hissed.


    Persephone said youd have a plan in place. I shook my head. But this isnt a plan.


    You havent heard the plan yet, lad, Ginger said. Maybe listen for a moment, before yeh get your panties in a stevedores hitch


    I dont evenWhat? Justnever mind. Fine. Tell me rest of the plan. But keep in mind, while my friend and I are capable, neither of us are miracle workers.


    Yeah. Jorra piped in, his voice a normal pitch. Everyone turned to look at him and he shrank back.


    Is that a kid? Shear asked, incredulous. Did you bring a kid in here? Wait a minute, are you a kid?


    Do I sound like a kid? I asked, putting every bit of frigid, biting ice I could manage into the question.


    No, Shear admitted. Lets just, get this over with before we kill each other.


    He pointed out two separate areas on the map where the gem could be, and I had to admit they had planned slightly better than Id originally thought. The possible locations included a safe in Mifrals bedroom, and a trophy room adjacent to the downstairs loft.


    On the bottom section of the map, there was a downstairs area marked as Panic room.


    No chance she has it in there? I pointed to the lower section on the map.


    Not a chance in heaven, Ginger confirmed. The whole point of a room like that is to maximize the difficulty of getting in while minimizing the reward.


    Of course, we need to stop her from reaching that room. If she gets inside and locks the mansion down, things get very difficult for us, Shear said.


    And how do we do that? I asked.


    Ginger grinned, and with a grunt, hefted a giant back onto the table and unzipped it. There were a cluster of devices inscribed with runes, filled with blue liquid. Though Id never seen this particular design before, I recognized the purpose.


    Are these bombs? I couldnt quite believe it, even as I spoke.


    Ginger laughed. Not exactly.

 Chapter 51: Enclave XXI

    Chapter 51: Enclave XXI


    I left the building at a brisk pace with Jorra on my heels. He stopped, but I kept walking, heading towards the city center.


    Cairner, Sontar, where are you going? Jorra called after me.


    Were leaving, I stated.


    Why? Jorra asked.


    Because this is ridiculous and not worth our time. The words were bitter in my mouth.


    I dont get it. Jorra said.


    I rounded on him, pulling him off the road into an abandoned side-street littered with boxes. The woman who gave me this job, shes not insane. Shes just an asshole. She knows Ill turn this down. Shes just toying with me and wasting my time. In a few weeks, shell offer me a smaller task instead and string me a long for a few months.


    A few months I dont fucking have.


    A surge of frustration rose within me and I kicked an overturned crate, sending it skittering down the pavement.


    Jorra looked between me and the crate I''d kicked. I dont know whats going on, but I know youre not really the sort to go around robbing places. Especially not for the thrill of it. So, this has to do with whatever you were talking to my parents about, right? Jorra asked.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Yes, I took off the mask and wiped a sheen of sweat on my forehead, leaning against the wall. Its... not really something I can wait around for, so at the end of the day, I have to go back in there with those idiots and give this a shot regardless. I looked at him. But this is far more dangerous than I thought itd be. I cant, in good conscience, bring you along.


    Jorra removed his mask and stared at the ground, considering. Well thats too bad. His lips spread into a wide grin. Im terrified of what mother will say when I tell her you took me to meet Persephone.


    I stared at him, feeling more amused than betrayed. You wouldnt.


    You sure? Jorra peered at me. Dad says my number one responsibility is looking out for you. Now, Im not sure how hed feel about this whole situation in general, but Im pretty sure that hed want me to do everything in my power to help. Not to mention the part where Ive kind of gotten used to you, and it would suck if you died. He punched me lightly in the chest. Especially over something as stupid as this.


    I rolled my eyes. Very noble. Im not entirely sure how that noble sentiment translates to blackmail, but noble nonetheless.


    If you die, or if they lock you up, I lose my partner in the sanctum. Ive invested way too much time in you to risk switching things up now.


    Thats literally the definition of the sunk-cost fallacy.


    And you act like a phallus every time you talk over my head like that, but you dont see me holding it against you.


    The side of my mouth quirked. Fair.


    There was quiet as we both considered the next few moments. Jorra and I both put our masks to our faces as woman in a frilly dress passed by the mouth of the ally, gawked at both of us, then hurried on her way, her shoes clomping against the stone.


    A snort escaped me, and Jorra started to laugh.


    So, what now? He asked.


    Breakfast the next morning was fraught with tension. I felt conflicted dragging Jorra into this, but I had made sure he knew the risk, and prepared us as much as I was able. I had dismissed his words from the previous day as naive, but in truth, the fact that we had trained so extensively together was likely why Id gone to him first.


    Still, the idea of taking larger risks because of the resets sat a lot better with me when it was only my life on the line.


    Jorra didn''t seem to be feeling the pressure. It affected his appetite, but not adversely. The boy was on his second plate. He scarfed the food down silently, as if on a mission to intake as many calories as possible.


    Nethtari seemed to notice something was off. She asked a few probing questions about our plans for the day, then seemingly decided to stay out of it. In truth, Id been especially moody as of late, so the only one acting out of the ordinary was Jorra.


    Like some strange pair of masked ghosts, we waited until Nethtari left, then donned our cloaks.


    We met in the same building from the previous day.


    Steadying my nerves, I reached in a pouch and placed four glass beads filled with water on the table. Well be using these to communicate in the event of an emergency. Keep them on your person at all times.


    Shear picked up a bead and studied it, then rolled one over to Ginger. Must have cost you a pretty penny. He picked up on my lack of response, gaze sliding over to Jorra. Ah. So that explains the kid.


    Im not a kid, Jorra said in the same low, strangled voice.


    Hes not your business, I glared at Shear, hoping hed pick up on the not so subtle prompt to drop the line of questioning.


    How do these work then? Ginger asked, tossing the bead up into the air and catching it again. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jorra lean forward with each upward toss, as if he might dive forward to save it should it accidentally tumble out of Gingers meaty hands. I shared his concern. We really should have made a spare.


    Its a simple silent alarm. I lied. If you run into trouble, crush the bead. Adage and I will be able to track you and help with the retreat.


    The truth was, the beads served another primary purpose. Ever since Shear had told me the plan, one aspect of it had made me incredibly uneasy: the initial period we split-up to search for the safe. It was an ideal way to handle the situation since the two areas were on opposite ends of the estate, but that didnt change the fact that it made for an incredibly vulnerable period.


    Id mentally gamed it out instead of sleeping the previous night. If Persephone was looking to screw me, it would be during that initial period. In the worst case scenario, Ginger and Shear already knew where the gem was located. Theyd send us to the dummy location, then leave us holding the bag. If we didnt die in the resulting trap, wed be left with little more than the name of the enclave underworlds mythical entity, while Guemons security force shook their heads and chastised us for telling such ridiculous tall tales.


    Something about it seemed very unlikely. But I had already learned to hedge my bets. Since Jorra could track the water within the beads, we would know fairly quickly if anything was off with their movements. Like, for example, if they reached their destination, then spontaneously left the estate.


    It would also work for its intended purpose, but nothing was wrong with a little additional insurance.


    I pulled the potions out of my bag and distributed them. Coagulant and painkillers, as well as several philters of molten smoke. Shear took in the legion of bottles on the table.


    Elphion. Its a theft, not a war zone. He said. Still, he took his share and placed it into his bag, as did Ginger.


    Logistics indeed. Ginger chortled to himself


    It never hurts to be prepared. I said, glancing at Jorra.


    Lets get this show on the road. Shear hefted his bag and we followed.


    I fell into the character, relaxed and confident, as if Id done this sort of thing many times before, as if my list of thefts extended beyond the occasional wineskin and occasionally running out on my tab.

 Chapter 52: Enclave XXII

    Chapter 52: Enclave XXII


    There was a loathsome image in my mind ever since Persephone had given me this job. The image of a man dressed in black sneaking about in the dead of night, skulking between houses, his heavy breath fogging dimly lit windows while he spied on oblivious couples mid-coitus. As much as I told myself I would eventually make it up to our victimand would to some extent be doing just that by stopping the impending slaughter taking place a mere two weeks from nowit didnt change the fact that it felt dirty, and the image of that stubble-ridden dark-eyed thief slinking through the night never quite left me.


    Which is why it came as quite a surprise when Shear revealed the theft was to take place in the middle of the day. According to Shear, only fools or amateurs robbed at night. Why enter someones home when they were most likely to be there, potentially with company, putting both them and yourself at risk?


    The best timing for this sort of mischief was just after one in the afternoon on a workday. The subject of the theft, as well as those around them is more likely to be mentally preoccupied, in the middle of their daily tasks, trying to shrug off the inevitable sluggishness that takes place after a meal. There will be a moment of hesitation, of confusion, if the would-be housebreaker is caught in the act. Are they supposed to be there? Who breaks into a home in the middle of the day? That single moment of hesitation can make the difference between a getaway or an arrest.


    Shears confidence and friendly explanations made me feel slightly less queasy about the whole thing. He almost made it sound glamorous. Mifral was notoriously vain, selfish, and abusive towards her servants. She was part of the enclave mercantile elite. Shear wove a beautiful tale in which all of us were heroes, robbing from the rich for the sake of the poor. This narrative disregarded the point that Persephone herself was quite wealthy and was entirely ignorant of the fact that I was involved. But I had no desire or intention to inform Shear of the truth: that this was actually a case of the rich robbing the rich to for the sake of the rich.


    I liked his version better.


    Jorra, Ginger, and I were all hidden under a tarp in a moving cart pulled by a slow moving dire-mole. Despite the cool climate of the enclave, the mid-day auric sun glaring down directly on the covering combined with our layered clothes and masks made the situation nigh unbearable. Shears cart was just a bit too narrow for all three of us to fit in comfortable, so we pressed together, vestigial comfort squandered the moment anyone shifted. And the dwarf shifted constantly. The scent of sweat was mingled with plastic and garlic.


    I found myself slightly nauseousa combination of the environment or the way the two wheeled cart rattled over cobbled stone, swaying us from side to side.


    I shifted onto my shoulder to face Jorra, who looked away and stifled a burp. Did you really have to eat half a mess-halls worth of breakfast? I asked.


    I get hungry when Im nervous, Jorra whispered back. He sounded much less confidant than he had a matter of hours ago.


    Theres still time to back out. I said, completely conflicted on that point. On one hand, there was no denying that I wanted him here. But at the same time I hated the idea of putting him in danger. It was something I had to get used to, that was clear. A king could not send his men into battle consumed with crippling worry for their lives. But that didnt mean I had to like it, or that I wanted to start with Jorra.


    Jorra appeared to consider the question, and leaned towards me as if to whisper something.


    Burrrrrrrp. The belch was gargantuan and laden with garlic. I imagined vampires holed up in a cave hundreds of miles away fleeing into the sunlight as a reprieve.


    Ah! Gods! Why? You little shit!


    Little? Im taller than you.


    Barely.


    Stone Maiden take me now, let this suffering end. Ginger stared up at the tarp, eyes dead with the torment of a suffering saint.


    I had to mentally repeat the exchange to make ensure my accent had stayed intact and was relieved to find that it had. It would be incredibly unfortunate for all the effort Id put into to this so far to be undone by a simple slip of the tongue.


    As we grew closer to our destination, the thick chatter and bustle of people lessened to a slow a trickle of infrequent conversations. The bumpy road grew smoother. Before long, the cart ground to a halt. Someone knocked twice against the wood. I caught a glimpse of the outside through a gap in the tarp.


    We were at the outer fringes of Mifrals estate, all that separated us from it a short stone dividing wall. The house itself towered skyward. It was larger than Ralakoss home, by a significant margin. The architect had eschewed style for scale, the mansion itself an overly styled box with two wings that extended outward, a massive fountain in its courtyard encircled by a roundabout path. Two guards stood posted in front of the iron gates while several single-man patrols circled the grounds themselves. In the distance, I saw the telltale frilly green-jacket of one of Ephiras guards. Likely delivering a message.


    It was now or never. I popped the cap on the iron-lung potion, the acid brine taste bringing tears to my eyes. My heart-rate slowed and a sense of calm washed over me.


    I mentally bumped my intention to research a cheaper alternative for iron-lung up a few notches in terms of priority.


    Ginger nearly bowled me over, pushing me aside to move the carpet and open the hatch in the bottom of the cart. He lifted it easily, then laid down on his stomach to grip a drain cover below, which he set to the side. Shear kept watch as we lowered ourselves down the hole. The iron rungs of the ladder had long since rusted and the smell of the sewer made me gag.


    Okay. Jorra said. But he seemed to take his own moment of weakness as a personal affront, and kept moving forward, his eyes vigilant.


    Mental fortitude ran in the family, it seemed. Nethtari, Maya, and Jorra were all rock solid under pressure. I couldnt speak for Kilvius, but somehow I doubted he was any different.


    We placed both devices Id mistaken for bombs at the areas Shear had marked on the map, both set under the southeast and southwest corners of the mansion. Unless something terrible went wrong, Shear and ginger would have already done the same on the opposite end of the mansion.


    Think well need them? Jorra eyed the last device warily.


    Considering everything you ate this morning? I hope not. I said.


    Backtracking, we found the ladder leading up to the garden. As Shear had predicted, it was open and mostly unmonitored. I crouched behind a hedge, waiting for a pair of patrolling guards to pass, then scampered up a trellis onto a wide second floor balcony. I grabbed Jorras rest and hoisted him up behind me.


    So far, so good. The balcony door was unlocked.


    I entered.


    To say the interior was gaudy would be an understatement. Suddenly, I understood a great deal about Mifral: She wasnt just rich. She actively was terrified of being poor. I could see her fear imprinted in the plush sheen of the overly ornate carpet, reflected in the many vases. A mess of art from various periods was horrifically augmented by gaudy golden frames. There was a bevy of display cases filled with hundreds of gems held in black velvet.


    In the mansion, I saw Mifral, and within Mifral, I saw myself. My old self. Id been like her, oncewith better taste, but similar, regardless. I met and lost Lillian. Then the coronation and subsequent invasion. Then Thoth. A series of events that had changed my perspective so vividly I wasnt even sure who I was anymore.


    I shook my head. It was hardly the time to reminisce


    Jorra and I headed down the hallway of the second floor, finding it largely abandoned, headed towards the bedroom.


    Where are they? I whispered to Jorra.


    He cocked his head, peering at the ceiling. His hands glowed slightly. Down that way. He pointed behind us and downstairs towards the area where the showroom should have been.


    Good. Now its just a matter of getting in and out


    There was a keening screech. A mix of static and the sound of a metal echoing across ice. A shout of surprise came from up ahead. A gray bubble formed in the center atrium and expanded, encasing the entire house.


    Was that Jorra started, interrupted as gravity itself answered his question and he began to rise in the air, his arms and legs pinwheeling. The feeling of weightlessness turned my stomach, but I managed to keep my wits in check, grateful for the calm from the iron-lung potion. I grabbed a nearby curtain with one hand and snagged him with the other.


    They had a dwarfish name. Shear had simply called it a gravity fielda fiendishly complicated mix of magic and dwarven engineering. It was intended to cover our escape in the chaos and make a bit of a mess.


    From over the railing a face appeared. A violet infernal wearing a white bathrobe, looking besottedly pissed, slowly rose from the first floor in a lazy ascent, her arms crossed.


    I recognized her stern features immediately and felt the blood drain from my face.


    Ephira.


    We were monumentally fucked.

 Chapter 53: Enclave XXIII

    Chapter 53: Enclave XXIII


    Ashby of House Morrow lay crumpled in the dirt, whimpering, his left arm bent at an odd angle. I watched from a distance as his three sons, including my once friend, Feran, gathered around their father in a uncoordinated effort to lift the man from the ground.


    On the first attempt, Ashbys broken face came up for a moment, only to limply plant itself back into the dirt. Then they successfully hoisted him and moved him to the medical tent. I only caught Ferans eye for a moment, but that was long enough for his cold hostility to be clearly felt.


    My father tossed the broadsword in my general direction, underhanded, so the hilt rotated bounced off the earth next to my feet.


    Do your job, squire. He commanded.


    I did as he asked, silently collecting his sword and the helmet he discarded on the ground. The murmurs of disapproval and gossip wafting over from the rows of spectators silenced immediately when the king glared in their direction, slowing returning when he went to the water barrel. Father seemed to consider dipping his skin into it then disregarded the notion. Instead, he lifted the entire barrel and drank from it in large gulps, then overturned it on his head.


    A stomach curdling wail sounded from the medical tent. I cringed.


    Tell me why I did what I did. My father took a seat, his face stony, water dripping in beads from his long hair and chin.


    I understand the transgression. I said, careful to keep my tone respectful. House Morrow overstepped. They sought to increase their station out of turn. You corrected their misgivings.


    If I wanted a flabby politicians interpretation of the events, Id have dragged one from the stands. My fathers gaze focused on me, his mouth firm and tight. Tell me, why I did what I did.


    It was clear from the way he said it that further obfuscation would cost me dearly.


    I dont know. I admitted. Theyre hardly the first to critique the crown. We have more enemies than friends these days. Perhaps you had a grander purpose in mind, but from where I stood that looked


    Petty.


    I remembered the way my father had drawn out the duel when he could have ended it cleanly nearly a dozen times. This particular broadsworda simple Uskarrian bladewas thicker than a standard sword and blunted at the edges. Hed hacked at the joints of the other mans arms and the back of his legs, blade singing against armor and crunching against bone.


    Unnecessary, I finished.


    Is that compassion I see, boy? The muscles in his neck bulged.


    No father.


    I dont believe you.


    At the very most, its empathy. I held my hands out as if to ward off the accusation. Experiencing my fathers wrath was not an experience soon forgotten, even if it had never been quite so physical for me as it had been for Ashby. Still, his eyes had that look of a shrewd analysis, as he decided whether I needed to be reminded of the proper outlook for a prince.


    In moments like these, it was best to distract him. What I dont understand is why you went so far. It was necessary to demonstrate strength in response to House Morrow. If House Morrow was a military house, I would understand. But theyve been mostly scribes for over a decade. Feran could barely ride a horse. I had to practically bribe the boy to get him out of the library.


    Yes. Your little friendship. Perhaps that is the source of your lack of will. A small group of servants gathered around him with platters of pungent food, which he sampled absent-mindedly. I did what I did because Ashby asked me to.


    He asked you to? I repeated, not understanding.


    Thats the thing all these diplomats and politicians will never understand, son. Gil looked towards the murmuring throng, resentment clear on his face. A man speaks more truly and honestly with his hands than his voice ever could.


    That almost sounds like an excuse to routinely eschew diplomacy with violence. I said blandly, staring straight ahead despite feeling his eyes on me.


    Perhaps to some flowery pup untouched by war. Diplomacy has its place, boy. No one is contesting that. Otherwise, wed still be fighting with the dwarves over the eastern subterranean.


    As I remembered, the only reason that particular conflict had ended was that the dwarves had finally banded together and barricaded themselves within a mountain fortress. Their many earth magicians and networks of tunnels made it practically impossible to cut off their supply lines for a significant amount of time. Couple that with their ability to reinforce defenses almost infinitely and the loss of life from trying to press unto the mountain was simply not worth the loss of life, even for King Gil.


    And Ashby was asking to be beaten within an inch of his life? I asked, unable to hold my tongue.


    My most immediate problem was that I was running out of wall. Adage! I yelled, Little help?


    With nowhere else to go, I coiled my legs beneath me and kicked off the wall, sending myself catapulting across the empty air of the foyer. The ball of lightning followed doggedly behind.


    Jorra looked between me and Ephira. Her arm was still outstretched, glowing hand guiding the projectile. He seemed to come to a decision.


    In a practiced motion Id seen a dozen times, Jorra cast a water projectile at the counselors face. I was expecting her to block it, hoping for a moment of distraction.


    What I wasnt expecting was for her to cancel the projectile all together, focusing all her efforts on diffusing Jorras attack. The aegis she summoned was massive and cone shaped, ensuring she wasnt touched by a single drop of the water.


    Jorra catapulted himself away from a forking branch of lightning, swinging upwards and awkwardly landing on the ceiling, where he fired another water bomb at her face. Again, Ephira responded with the absurdly oversized aegis.


    It was almost as if


    Several things occurred to me at once. First was that Ephira was a single element mage. Second, was that most elements had the same self-immunity as demon-fire. That was due to the mages unique mana being used to shape the element, sort of like a fingerprint. A fire magician could still be burned by another fire magician. In theory, Ephira should not be able to shock herself.


    But what if her element was filtered through another magicians?


    It was worth a shot.


    Adage.


    Jorra rotated to look at me, jetting down from the ceiling towards the floor. We locked eyes for just a moment.


    Quantity over quality. I said.


    He looked puzzled. Then smiled. They did say to make a messoh shit!


    Thunder cracked, but the lightning hit the opposite wall, momentum from the spell sending a shape hurtling towards me. It seemed that Ephira had finally adjusted to the absence of gravity. Her fist cracked into the side of my head, and I spun head over heels away from the wall, grasping at it with my clawed hand and missing by less than an inch. Helplessly, I floated out into space.


    I saw her glide over towards me. She tossed a few bolts of electricity at Jorra, nailing him in the shoulder and sending him flying. I couldnt see his face, but his body was limp.


    Ephira spoke as if she was talking to a mentally deficient pet. You know, my staff made me come here. Take a day for yourself, they said. Spend time with Mifral. You like her, right? Have a ladies'' day. Ephiras hand gripped my throat. And you, most ignoble guest, are interrupting my ladies day.


    Ephira reached forward with her other hand, intent on removing my mask when I caught a flash of movement above me. But she saw it too.


    Time to commit.


    I swiped out with my gloveless hand, scraping some of the pink salve on her face into her eye. She let out a cry of surprise, instinctively retreating to cover it, when enough water to fill a small lake came crashing down on our heads, submersing us both and sending us tumbling towards the floor.


    We bounced off the ground. I blinked water away, and it fled from me in tiny droplets.


    Ephira stared venomously, eye swollen shut, face twisted in pathetic rage. Her hair hung over her face and she looked vaguely horrifying. But she didn''t try to cast.


    I''d gotten it right.


    I had no doubt from her expression. She''d tear the enclave apart looking for us. But I''d bought us time.


    Jorra descended to my side, pulling me out of the free float. Guards are coming. Weve gotta move.


    Sorry! Jorra yelled back to Ephira as we fled.

 Chapter 54: Enclave XXIV

    Chapter 54: Enclave XXIV


    Not to mention, I really didnt like the look in Ephiras eye. It went beyond simple animosity. She would be hunting for the thieves stupid enough to rob her friend for the rest of the reset, and it wouldnt surprise me if she leaned on Guemon to help her do it.


    If Ephira and Guemon werent co-conspirators, I needed to do everything on my power to head that off.


    I just didnt know how.


    Gingers gravity field certainly did what it was intended to do. If it wasnt for the chaos, I had no doubt the initial conflict with Ephira would have been over in seconds, with every guard from the surrounding area swooping in to grab us. But these were trained men, and unlike the guards of Whitefallwho I had no doubt would still be haphazardly spinning about in the airthese men had grown up in the enclave. Most of them were magicians, and they were accustomed to improvising within the bounds of strange situations that cropped up when magic was involved.


    It only took them a matter of minutes to adjust. Soon they were zipping about the hallways, using a combination of magic and teamwork to maneuver around the estate.


    Though my inability to use demon-fire in this situation was a serious handicap, my lesser magic finally found some use. I found that if I manipulated an air current to push slightly downward against my upper back and shoulders, I was able to better stick to surfaces. Id occasionally kick-off from the wall or floor too hard and lose traction, but within a weightless environment, even the insignificant current of air I produced was enough to bring me back down.


    A guard swung drunkenly around the corner, clinging to a light fixture and cursing. I grabbed Jorra by the back of his collar and dove into a side room. The guard cursing loudly as he passed.


    Jorra made a muted, choking sound, and I released him, using a downward thrust of air to bring myself to the floor. The side-room was some sort of inspection area. Dozens, if not hundreds of gemssome still encased in rockfloated freely above tables where theyd once rested, forming a prismatic galaxy. The lenses of loupes and reflectometers refracted harsh-white light from the industrial lumen lamps above, and a half dozen metal tools and hammerslikely used for shaping or scratch testingfloated freely, having been disturbed by either vibrations or air currents from elsewhere in the house.


    Jorra made a quiet exclamation. His whip curled around the leg of one of the examination tables, and he pulled himself over to the dazzling array of floating gemstones.


    Beautiful, Jorra said.


    I couldnt quite drag my gaze away from the door, but his reaction was amusing.


    Didnt take you as the type.


    Mother tells the story often. She wouldnt let father buy her a ring. Some moral quibble about pointless displays. According to her, gold is the root of all evil things.


    That sounded like Nethtari.


    Jorra reached up to touch a floating cross-rose cut ruby, his finger sending it spinning in the specular light. How can something so beautiful cause so much trouble? His voice had a wistfulness to it.


    That question has been asked more times, in more contexts than either of us are likely to know.


    What would something like this be worth in golden slivers?


    The ruby? More than slivers. A couple of rods at least. It depends on the cut and clarity. Color factors in as well. Gems are complicated.


    He looked over to me, his eyes wide. I could almost read his mind. A few golden rods was a sum likely exponentially larger than what Kilvius and Nethtari made in a year.


    I wondered what he was imagining using the money for. Something for the sanctum maybe. A xescalt sword perhaps. Or maybe a void bag.


    We could finally get the floors fixed. Jorra whispered. Maybe hire a tutor for Agarin.


    Damn.


    There sure are a lot of them. I said, innocently. I doubt itd be a problem if one more went missing.


    Jorra glared at me. That would be stealing.


    I bit my tongue to keep from laughing aloud.


    What exactly do you think were doing here? I asked.


    Nope. No sir. Youre stealing. Jorra jutted a finger at me. I was recruited under duress. I am an unwitting accomplice.


    Unwitting indeed. I chuckled. His reasoning was undoubtedly foolish. But it only made me like him more.


    Jorra confirmed that Shear and Ginger had reached the far corner of the house and were holding there. Their movements did not appear to be erratic, so we assumed they werent in any trouble. After checking out the doorway, we moved silently down the hall, approaching the area on the map where Mifrals bedroom was supposed to be. The room was segmented by double doors with the sort of gaudy gold-trimmings and elegant inlays Id come to expect from the woman.


    Using the air current to stabilize myself, I rotated until my head was pressed against the ground and peered through the crack. A violet infernal with curly hair and a rotund figure cowered in the back left corner next to the bed. I could also see the long metallic limbs of armed guards in front of the door. My view was limited, but I could see them from the waist down: their legs were set in ready stances, their scabbards empty.


    Difficult. But not unexpected.


    I turned back towards Jorra and held out two fingers. Then I opened my bag and pulled two of the alchemical poultices. Jorra kicked backwards a few feet, pulled in a deep breath, and held it.


    I could, Ginger said If I had half an hour. Id have to pick it manually. The guards are going to wise up any minute now.


    Shear swore. Just do what you can.


    I pulled Shear aside as Ginger began to work. What the hell happened?


    Shear shook his head. I dont know. Wasnt supposed to go down like that. The field activated when the dwarf put the last one down.


    I lowered my voice further. As in, it activated as soon as he placed it? Or after.


    Shears face grew tight. Ive been thinking on that as well. It activated the moment he set it.


    I processed that.


    Doesnt look good, Shear added.


    This was getting too complicated. I looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Mifrals chandelier was still shifted to the side. There were too many moving parts to this scenario. My biggest concern going in was that Persephone and her minions intended to leave me holding the bag. That no longer seemed to be the caseat least, not in the way that I originally thought. Both Ginger and Shear seemed genuinely alarmed, and they were already neck deep in this with us.


    So, who gained what, exactly?


    Guards! Jorra shouted.


    Shear ran over and threw his shoulder against the doors as Jorra and I barricaded them with every piece of furniture that wasnt tied down.


    Fuck it. Ginger threw down his lock-picks. Just gonna have to beat it out of her. He stalked over towards where Mifral was crumpled on the floor.


    That would undoubtedly escalate things in a direction we didnt want. I caught his shoulder. Wait. Let me give it a go. I nodded to the safe.


    Ginger stared incredulously. Now youre a safe cracker, too?


    Not exactly. I hedged. Look, shes not even conscious. Right now, Im our best shot. If I cant get it open, you ask the lady. Preferably nicely.


    Why not? Gingers voice raised in pitch. Waste our precious time. How about this? Ill go ask her nicely now, and after you make a fool of yourself, I''ll ask her not so nicely.


    Fine.


    Ginger crossed the room to Mifral and began prodding her with his boot. Shear and Jorras barricade appeared to be holding. Satisfied that they were all focused on their respective tasks, I shut myself in the closet and called the flame.


    Three minutes later, I emerged.


    The guards had given up trying to get through the doors and were likely in the midst of trying something else.


    Ginger paused mid-action. He held a bucket of water, which was just inches away from pouring on Mifrals sleeping face. Catch a nap in there did yeh?


    I reached in my pocket and tossed it to him. The massive rock glittered blue like an ocean at noon. Ginger caught it with both hands, his lips pulling back in a grin. Well, Ill be damned.


    Shear pushed in next to him. This is it. A bit smaller than reported, but close enough. He turned to me. Was there anything else in the safe?


    Empty. I shrugged.


    Everyone jumped as the side door to Mifrals connected parlor disintegrated and ozone filled the room.


    Ephira stepped through the door. She looked like a completely different person. Along with being completely dry, her hair had been tied up in a vicious knot, and she wore a sheer white dress that didnt quite fit her. The only remaining evidence of our conflict in the atrium was the combination of her swollen eye and the fact that her feet were still bare. Her nails clicked against the tile as she walked.


    I swallowed. Wed barely managed to delay her when the gravity field had been running, and we had the element of surprise. Even with Shear and Ginger here, there was no chance. I doubted the same trick would work twice.


    All that gumption from earlier. Gone. How disappointing. Ephira summoned with both hands. Electricity arced off her, filling the room with golden light. The lumen lamps went black.


    We were so close. My many options disappeared into nothing. Despair clawed at me.


    The memory of the trial came back to me out of nowhere. There was no question that, as I was now, I couldnt beat her. But maybe I didnt have to. Maybe there was a way to keep my cover intact, and take Ephira out of play simultaneously.


    It was a huge risk. In the end, the way this played out would all depend on her.


    I reached up and tapped my shoulder three times.

 Chapter 55: Enclave XXV

    Chapter 55: Enclave XXV


    Ephiras expression barely changed. But the palpable bloodlust she emitted slackened, and an expression of puzzlement played across her brows.


    Before anyone could do anything to throw us back into chaos, I pulled an alchemical potion from my bag and threw it towards her. A flash of nerve-scalding white brighter than any sun exploded outward from the shattered bottle filling the once-dim room. My throw was intentionally short and my companions shouted, confused and alarmed. Despite shielding my eyes with my sleeve, my vision was still fraught with a purpling after-image that faded to bruise green.


    I rushed forward and tackled Ephira into the parlor, careful to cushion her head from the fall. My wrist jarred painfully against the floor, pinioned between the back of her neck and the cool wooden slats.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    What the She sputtered.


    I clamped a hand over her over her mouth and whispered in her ear. Persephone is moving against you.


    She immediately stilled, confirming my suspicions. It was pure unadulterated conjecture. There had to be another motive. Seeing how wealthy Mifrals estate wasalmost irresponsibly so, with troves of wealth sitting out like the beginning of a dragons hordeit didnt make sense to break into the place to acquire a single sapphire. I still didnt have the whole picture yet, but Ephiras presence here had not been a mistake. The hypothesis was beginning to form in the back of my mind.


    Im working it from the inside. I continued, sparing a panicky glance over my shoulder.


    And you think Ill just let you go, after youve made a fool of me? Ephiras grip on my arms tightened to a painful squeeze.


    Think of all you stand to gain. Ill make reparations. I swear it. We had seconds. Maybe less.


    Greed and pride warred in her expression, greed eventually winning out. And what do you propose? Ephira asked.


    I told her.


    Shear stumbled into the room, still concussed.


    In the end, I didnt have to tell her to make it look good. Ephira pulled back a fist imbued with electricity and punched me in the gut.


    ----


    It was far from a glamorous escape. Ginger blew out the back wall of the parlor with an explosive charge. Unable to hide the pang of regret at the expending of resources, I threw down two bottles of molten smoke, leaving only one remaining.


    My air magic wasnt nearly fine-tuned enough to manipulate all of it, but I could capture enough that it formed a black moving cloud around us, maneuvered to block the view from ranged attackers and pursuers.


    We sprinted across the artificial turf of Mifrals estate, still weakened and sick from the effects of the gravity field while a half-dozen guards chased after us, equally weakened and sick.


    I spared a glance back at the gaping hole in the wall wed escaped from and wished I hadnt. Ephiras feet were planted firmly on the edge. Her arms outstretched. A massive disk of blue-white electricity formed above us. Lightning struck with a roaring boom, over and over, each strike a near miss that tossed sod into the air, showering us with detritus. A few bolts landed perilously close to my feet, as if Ephira was going out of her way to remind me that there would be a part two to our conversation.


    We were too clumped together.


    Jorra tripped, almost going down, and I used the opportunity to slow down and hoist him up. Then, I opened a window in the smoke, revealing Shear.


    The bolt of lightning struck out immediately and pierced Shear through his back. The mans shirt ripped open, pale Lichtenberg figures crossing his spine. His left boot flew off as if forcibly expelled from his foot and he collapsed, body rolling limply in the dirt.


    Gingers swearing increased in volume and propensity, but he picked up speed rather than slowing down. Despite the franticness of the scene, Id been waiting for it, and committed Gingers reaction to memory. There was no emotional jolt when Shear was hit. The dwarf didnt even consider stopping to grab him. His reaction was one of pure fear and nothing more.


    The fact that they were new colleagues was likely not an act then.


    There was a feeling of an unbelievable amount of static that built through the left side of my body the second before another jagged bolt of lightning struck the ground before me. I lost my footing and fell into a roll, shoulder throbbing.


    I fought the urge to turn around and glare at Ephira. She was going overboard in terms of selling this. Any more enthusiasm on her end and she wouldnt be pretending.


    We closed on one of the grates that lead down into the sewer. I gathered the smoke around us to make it dense as possible. Jorra opened the grate and Ginger prepared to enter.


    Get the gem where it needs to go, I yelled at him. Well draw them off.


    Well do what? Jorra gawked at me.


    Itll be fine. I reiterated. Ginger didnt have to be told twice. Sparing me a glance of respect, he lowered himself into the grate and slid down the ladder into the sewer below.


    The sound of guards shouting through the smoke grew closer. I replaced the grate.


    We managed to get out of Highpoint before everything was locked down. I had no doubt that Ephira had run interference, or at least waited to call for additional backup.


    Still, a small group of guards from Mifrals faction pursued us doggedly. We had made fools of them, and theres few things that motivates a man more assuredly than pride.


    Because I knew it was coming. He straightened his robe with a scowl. Thats the point youre trying to make? That its better to leave me in the dark, so I react more genuinely and dont give your plans away?


    Not at all. I countered. Leaving people in the dark has burned me too many times already. Think about it. I pushed you from the back, when you werent expecting it. The second time, I pushed you from the front. You didnt need to have the exact same thing happen twice to react correctly. The point Im making is that Im used to seeing shit go sideways. Its always in the back of my head, how many ways even the simplest things can go wrong. And nothing about that situation was simple. I didnt know what would happen at Mifrals estate. But I recognized the potential shit-show that it could have been and prepared accordingly.


    Jorra mulled that over. The stiffness in his posture marginally faded.


    So, you really didnt know.


    No. Gods. What a mess.


    I circled the small temple, taking in the various carvings, using my spark for light. The relief of a raven was prominently featured. Ravens flying across landscapes, ravens consuming other animals. They were always positioned so the head was horizontal in perspective, a single dark eye staring out at the observer.


    My whole body is shaking. Feels like it wont ever stop. Jorra said it as a joke, but I heard the fear in his words.


    It just takes time. I told him. No one had been there to tell me how these things worked, and walking someone else through it felt like righting old wrongs. Your body is crashing. You never realize how much energy youre using while the adrenaline is pumping through your system, and as soon as its gone everything feels magnified. The gravity field probably didnt help, either.


    Jorra groaned. That thing was the worst. Wait, so what happened exactly? He looked at me suspiciously. Did you make it go off?


    Gods no. I shook my head. My stomach still felt like hell.


    Next time you want to steal something, leave me out of it. Jorra shook his head. All that work and nothing to show for it.


    Not exactly I was cut off by the sound of wood striking metal. A torch lit from behind us.


    I spun.


    An infernal stood outlined in the dim light. She was about a head shorter than me and held a wooden practice sword in her hand.


    You know, I heard the disturbance outside. Her voice was a familiar. All those guards, shouting about a couple of thieves. She circled us. Then I come back, and, lo and behold, a couple of folks Ive never seen in this temple before talking about stealing. That cant be a coincidence, right?


    Sure it can, Jorra said. Lots of things can be a coincidence.


    Its not. I admitted easily. Jorra made a choking sound. How have you been, Bell?


    Bellarex stopped mid-stride. She pointed her practice sword at my neck. How do you know me?


    I took off my mask. There was no point in hiding my face. Shed seen Jorra unmasked, and it would be easy enough to connect the two of usand I needed her to trust me.


    The human! Bell exclaimed.


    I awakened a second element. Ralakos pointed me your way for help with training. Im sure your father told you about it.


    Yes! Bells smile faded as quickly as it appeared. But, Im not sure how that has anything to do with stealing.


    Well, I glanced at Jorra, In my culture its common to provide a gift to a new teacher.


    You stole something for me? Bell looked horrified.


    Of course not. More like borrowed, to show you in person. I said carefully. Cant let you keep it. Thatd be wrong and all, but


    I reached in my pocket and pulled the sapphire from the safe out. Jorras jaw dropped. Placing it carefully on the ground, I rolled it across the floor to her.


    Wait, what? Didnt you give it to Ginger? He whispered to me.


    I shrugged. Well talk about it later.


    Bell dropped her practice sword immediately, suspicions forgotten, and took them gem in both hands. She looked past it towards me, her smile returned at full-blast.


    I have so many questions. Bell said.


    I coughed to hide a laugh, remembering all too well how extensively shed interrogated us after the test in the previous life.


    Somehow, I thought you might.

 Chapter 56: Enclave XXVI

    Chapter 56: Enclave XXVI


    Well, she was exponentially more excitable than me, but the point still stood.


    The guards eventually came knocking. Bellarex hid us in one of several meditation rooms within the Void Temple.


    I expected the barrage of questions, but Jorra was taken aback. He didnt seem to dislike her as much as the first time aroundI suspect because she was helping us, and his first impression wasnt a frantic battle spent trying to beat the hell out of each other.


    Jorra had tried to swear her to secrecy before answering anything, and instead of a simple promise, Bellarex had sworn an oath, surprising me. She really was the trusting sort, though, I couldnt decide if that made her an excellent or terrible judge of character.


    We sat cross-legged in the meditation room. Bellarex munched thoughtfully on a round fruit that resembled a cerulean plum.


    The part that shocks me, She said between bites, Is that you got out of the Dregre Estate at all. Shes not known for being light-handed with intruders.


    I think youre underestimating the dwarfs gravity thing. The worst feeling Ive ever had. Like an army of spear wielding pixies went to town on my brain.


    Why would pixies want anything to do with your brain? Bell asked. Is it a haven of precious resources?


    It could be. Jorra muttered.


    I covered my smile with a hand.


    I worry this experience might have ruined drinking for you, my friend. Bad hangovers are not dissimilar.


    Jorra stared at me incredulous. People pay to feel like this?


    I think it is more interesting that Cairn is on a familiar enough basis with hangovers to speak on them definitively. Bell laughed. They must start them early in Whitefall.


    I nodded. Oh yes. Alcohol tolerance is a critical aspect of Silodan politics. The inability to hold ones liquor is considered more vastly more important than petty things like pedigree and moral fibre.


    Bell considered that. In that case, I believe my father would excel at politics in your kingdom.


    Jorra froze. I wanted to laugh, but Bell had such a nonchalant way of saying things that it was impossible to know for sure whether she was joking.


    I see. I shifted uncomfortably.


    Then Bell laughed, loud and merrily, and when she laughed it was impossible not to laugh with her.


    We spent the rest of the day practicing. The void temple meditation rooms were markedly similar to Guemons containment cells, as they made channeling magic more difficultthough to a much lesser degree.


    Bell had many talents, but teaching was not one of them. I had to ask her quite a few questions to get direct answers as to what I was doing wrong, and what should be done in its stead. As I summoned the air within the meditation room, I could see small tendrils of wasted energy much more clearly as they faded away. It made it much easier to isolate the problem, and by the end of the day I could summon a small amount of air mana, though not enough to cast anything substantial.


    The relief I felt was marginal. No one was attacking, no one had died. I still had a likely irate politician to deal with and a story to spin that I hadnt quite finished forming.


    We have minutes, at most. Nethtari said. When I told them I wasnt sure if you came in last night, they tried to push their way in.


    I shook my head. Even if I wanted to escape, Ephira likely had someone watching the house who saw me come in the previous night. She wouldnt skimp on security, not on something like this. I needed to deal with it head on. Delaying would only make things worse and potential ruin my plans for the rest of the reset.


    I took my time getting ready. Ephira was the sort that would judge me if a hair was out of placenormally not the sort of thing Id care about, but at this particular moment I was the one who needed something from her, and coming to our meeting frumpled and unkempt would be detrimental at best, disastrous at worse.


    Id be less concerned if she hadnt set the carriage, rather than letting me come to her. It sent a definitive message: We do this on my terms.


    Ephiras carriage was lush, but I wasnt able to appreciate the fine silks and ample space for long. Her guards, dressed in their frilly green tabards, piled in and surrounded me. Two on either side, three directly across.


    I wasnt sure whether to take it as a compliment that Ephira thought so highly of me, or an insult that she was trying to dominate me right from the beginning.


    The image of Jorra soaking her with a massive globe of water came back to me.


    Maybe the pettiness was justified.


    The carriage creaked and bumped, the ride extending beyond an hour. I tried to talk to the guards, but they simply stared in return, regardless of what I said. I went through a long-list of jokes, trying to get at least one to crack a smile. When the one about the donkey and the honeycomb failedthough I didnt know how, everyone with a soul laughed at thatI fell silent.


    I reminded myself that there was no reason for alarm. Ephira would be a fool to kill meespecially when dozens of people had seen the carriage come and go. This was all just part of how the game was played. Ephira was a controlled, reserved person who hated to lose, and I had unsettled that status quo. Now it was her turn to show how capable she was of responding in kind.


    The carriage finally rolled to a stop. I stepped out and found myself in an unfamiliar section of the surface caves. One half looked strikingly similar to the cave that Jorra and I practiced in. The other half looked closer to something out of the twilight chambers: a miniature ocean of clear blue water that led out to a platform no larger than a hundred square feet.


    Ephira was sitting at a table covered in a rich green tablecloth. The table itself was set right at the edge of a sheer cliff. If the person in either chair were to attempt to rise on the wrong side of the table, they would fall screaming into the abyss below. I nearly rolled my eyes.


    I get it already.


    There was a small gondola waiting at the rocky shore. One of the guards, whom Id been referring to in my head as the quiet one, ferried me out to the table where Ephira waited, hands held in her lap, eyes staring unblinkingly at me as I approached.


    Careful to keep my footing, I stepped off the Gondola onto the shelf and bowed. Greetings, Councillor.


    Wordlessly, Ephira indicated the chair across from her with a graceful gesture.


    I swallowed, and eased into the chair, trying unsuccessfully to avoid looking over the precipice and inevitably failing. Far below, I could hear things snarling and fighting in the dark. Distant shapes collided and tore at each other. The legs of the chair were uneven, and it shifted. My stomach flipped, and I grabbed onto the table in fear.


    Ephira studied me silently. The raging warrior that had been boiling beneath her demeanor only yesterday was nowhere to be seen. She was cold, serene, and calculating. I let the silence drag out. This was her meeting, her prerogative.


    Ephira finally spoke over steepled hands. I have some questions.

 Chapter 57: Enclave XXVII

    Chapter 57: Enclave XXVII


    The degree to which Id underestimated Ephira became clear the moment I took at seat at the table. Id thought her melodramatic and petty. She was those things, but she was also more.


    I was skilled in negotiation and statecraft.


    Ephira was a master.


    The Chefs at the long table to my left side chopped food just a bit louder than necessary. The table was pulled slightly too far away from me to be comfortable. And I had no doubt the wobbly chair had its legs intentionally shortened. Every time it shook I was forced to cling to the table, and my eyes would naturally go to the massive chasm to my right.


    At the distant base of the chasm, I saw a massive demon with a head half the size of its body skewer a smaller one, tossing it dozens of feet in the air, only to be tackled Every time the chair shifted, it made it nearly impossible to think.


    My father once told me that there are three aspects to a successful interrogation. Patience, leverage, and destabilization. Shed shown patience by sending a carriage for me and bringing me to her, rather than showing up at my house. She already had ample leverage over me for everything that had occurred at the Derdre Estate. And this entire set-up was her attempt at the latterthe attempt more literal and direct than most, but still effective and well executed.


    Im happy to answer whatever questions you have. I said.


    Oh, not yet, dear. Im not so rude as to invite a guest to lunch and not feed them. She drank from her glassa colorful mixture garnished with a black cherry sitting at its base.


    I didnt like the way she said it. Or the way any of this was going. I needed to get her to break from the script.


    We can dispose of the pretense, councillor. I am aware that I overstepped yesterday, and intend to make good on my promise to make it up to you.


    She extended a finger from the hand holding her glass, emphasizing each word. Nonsense. Pretense is important. As a prince, you of all people should know this.


    I waved her point away. I find that pretense is often little more than an excuse for high-born and nobility to edify themselves with boring pageantry.


    My, my, are you currently bored my dear Cairn? Ephira asked. She wasnt wrong. I was many things, but bored was not one of them.


    Sorry, sometimes I gloat, Ephira continued. Its a character flaw. My point is that pretense is part of ritual. And ritual, is all that separates us from them. She pointed down at the warring demons in the abyss with her glass.


    I might as well ask. Im sure she was dying for me to.


    Why are they fighting?


    They are fighting because that is a particularly resource rich section of the Sanctum shallows, fraught with soul fragments and blood glass. But if you mean in a philosophical sense


    I didnt I interrupted, but Ephira barreled on regardless.


    They are fighting because they are animals. And animals must struggle to survive. It is in their very nature. Just as it is in our nature to jockey and negotiate for position.


    You look down on them.


    On the contrary, I enjoy watching them because they remind me how important the simple institutions of cordiality and manners really are. Should those institutions fall, we will be down in the dirt with them, murdering over scraps, consuming the flesh of the fallen. It is a struggle of the soul, if you will.


    It was a common line of thought amongst the wealthy in Whitefall as well, typically brought up and bandied about whenever there was an uprising. Funny, how important manners were, when you wanted for nothing.


    So thats all we are, in your eyes. Animals capable of higher thought, but animals just the same.


    After a fashion. Ephira confirmed.


    I decided to engage with her, if only to distract me from the surrounding environment.


    Id like to think were better than that. That the soulor the essence of what makes us people, individuals, that it elevates us beyond the four-legged creatures that snuffle the ground and demons that battle in the dark.


    Isnt that the same argument that allows your kind to dismiss us wholesale? The purity of the soul? Ephira asked. As her gaze pierced me, I noticed for the first time that her eyes werent completely white. An outline of iris lurked beneath the ivory sheen.


    Shall I take responsibility for every slight a human has made against an infernal, then? I regretted the jab as soon as it was spoken. Sarcasm would come off as petty and defensive.


    I suppose not. Perhaps we should stay on topic.


    Yes. I sighed in relief. Lets get to it then,


    To lunch. Ephira said, and I suppressed a groan. The chefs brought a handful of plates, their portions incredibly small. The appetizers included a simple wedge salad with a balsamic dressing and a small portion of soup, but what really gave me pause was the main course.


    On first inspection it was nothing but ice, served in a steel bowl that reflected my questioning face as I peered down into it. As I looked closer, I noticed something of a visual distortion on the ice itself.


    Then it moved. I jumped. There perhaps a dozen small translucent squares. Ephira was watching me, a self-satisfied look on her face.


    I know your hosts arent exactly wealthy, but surely, you havent lived in the enclave for a year now without hearing about sceo?


    As it happened, I had. Sceoquel gossamer slugs were mentioned around the enclave the same way humans might reference the Tacorn beef of Hiawakira.


    Only in passing.


    Yes.


    What tipped you off? Ephira asked.


    A number of things. The fact that we werent told where the gem was. We were given two possible locations. I thought back to those initial planning moments. The way Shear had seemed completely comfortable with the haphazard nature of the plan. But when we got there, the way was already unbarred for us. Shear said another team had swept through and cleared the way, but that didnt make sense. The sewer passage being open was one thing. But the grates leading up from the sewer were unlocked from above. There was no way for a person to access the locks unless they were already in the yard.


    Implying Persephone has someone inside. Ephira observed.


    Right. If she has someone on the inside, why wouldnt she know where the sapphire is?


    Maybe the person doesnt have access. Mifral employs a number of gardeners and landscapers, any of whom would be uniquely positioned to unlock the grates but not have a free-range within the rest of the estate. Could be a fluke.


    Not when you combine it with everything else, I insisted. The gravity field was supposed to go off when we made our exit. Yet it went off nearly immediately, and Shear tried to pin it on another person. Add to that the fact that they sent us to check the bedroom safe, rather than the trophy room, when Id imagine the chances were much higher it would be in the bedroom instead of out on display.


    Youre not wrong. Ephira admitted. She pushed the bowl containing her sceo aside, and I watched in muted fascination as it began to reform. Mifral loves to flaunt her wealth, but the truly exceptional pieces she always keeps safeguarded and hidden.


    But the biggest giveaway of all, I continued, Was that you were there.


    Me?


    Yes. This thing was planned down to the minute. And if Persephone is as competent as she pretends to be


    She is. Ephira confirmed.


    Then it seems highly unlikely she wouldnt know a high councillor was scheduled to visit the target of a theft.


    So, if the point wasnt the sapphire, what was it? Ephira asked, in a voice that hinted she already knew the answer.


    Mifral is the biggest gem trader within the enclave. I cocked my head at her. You werent there for rest and relaxationor if you were, it was a business meeting couched as a spa day.


    Nothing youre saying is exactly hidden knowledge, Prince. Ephira said dryly.


    Persephone knew you would be there. She wanted you to lose face with Mifral, and intended to use a spectacular but ultimately bungled robbery to do so. Although I got lost in thought, having reached the end of my mental rope. Im not sure on the specifics of why.


    For the first time since the discussion began, there was a silence that hung between us.


    Well Ephira finally said. I know why.


    I perked up at that. Oh?


    First, Ill need some assurances.


    Once Id sworn the proper oaths and assured Ephira that my relationship with Persephone was nothing more than a matter of convenience, and that I would work with her to achieve the half-demons downfall, she finally explained the situation.


    Mifral dealt mainly in gems, that was true. But she also dealt in rare artifacts that housed gems. These were often decorative, but as gems could be used to augment mana, they could be extremely powerful.


    A few months ago a seventeen-year-old infernal returning from the Sanctum had brought back an artifact: a scepter crowned with a diamond the size of a fist. It had been sold to Mifral for a fraction of what it was likely worth. Only no one knew what it was worth because Mifral was holding it jealously, and not allowing for it to be appraised, forcing a blind bidding war.


    There was an anonymous party in the bidding war that Ephira was confident was Persephone, and she was running out of money.


    What could an artifact of that class possibly do? I asked


    The possibilities are almost endless. Greed danced in Ephiras eyes. But generally speaking, diamonds are most commonly used in artifacts that create illusionsoften illusions so powerful, theyre indistinguishable from reality.


    I stilled. I remembered my dark shadow, leaving Mayas home, soaked in blood. Everything seemed to come into focus.


    So best-case scenario, Shear finds the scepter. But thats less likely that the alternative.


    Ephira nodded. Persephone is trying to spook Mifral into selling early, while shes still in the lead.


    I take it Guemons involved in this bidding war? I asked, coolly.


    Not anymore. He dropped off in the last few weeks. Ephira said.


    That confused me. Then whos left?


    It was that moment, the membrane of the slugs writhing in my stomach finally burst. The tastethough I didnt taste it, exactly, more breathed itwas full, and savory, and exquisite, and overwhelming, as if Id never truly tasted anything before.


    But I only had a moment to enjoy it.


    Ephira held up three fingers. The remaining bidders are me, Persephone, and Ralakos.

 Chapter 58: Enclave XXVIII

    Chapter 58: Enclave XXVIII


    Ralakos.


    Its not that I trusted him completely. Im not convinced that I was capable of complete trust towards anyone but Maya, even then. But some part of it seemed absurd. It reminded me of an off-comment Cephur made, during our trek through the Everwood:


    You run into an asshole one day, you ran into an asshole. But if you run into an asshole every day? Youre the asshole.


    Barion was a hermit with delusions of grandeur. Ralakos was a wealthy, well-respected council member and an arch-magician. But I had to admit, there were similarities between him and Ralakos. Both were egocentric, intelligent, and kind at first glance. Theyd both gone out of their way to help me.


    What were the chances, then, that both were secretly working against me?


    The likelihood of that seemed low. Exceptionally low.


    Still. Perhaps, subconsciously, some part of me had recognized the similarities. Maybe that was why I never quite warmed up to Ralakos, despite how hed gone out of his way to welcome me, and help with my preparations for the Sanctum.


    I remembered, vividly, the way he had lied at my hearingacting outraged to the fact that Id been held in one of Guemons Magus cells, as if it was the first hed heard of it. The lie had been exceptional. So exceptional, that Id asked Nethtari about it afterwards, only to learn that yes, he had known.


    That alone meant little. But what it did mean is that if he was working against me, I was unlikely to realize it. But it still felt wrong. Barion only had to play his part for a week. Ralakos had been playing it for the better part of a year. It didnt matter how good of an actor you were, eventually, something real would slip through. And I hadnt felt a hint of malevolence from Ralakos.


    And hed told me about his son. It was one thing to use your dead child as a koss piece, once. I knew a thing or two about parents who used their children as pawns. It was another entirely to do so repeatedly.


    You will have no friends in the enclave. Mayas voice echoed in my head.


    I needed to take myself out of the equation. What would happen between the councillors if I wasnt here? Who would end up with the illusory scepter?


    I thought on that for a long time. Ephira, surprisingly, did not interrupt me. In her line of work, of course shed understand when to stop selling.


    Finally, I came to a definitive point.


    I was running out of days before the asmodials attacked the enclave. It was time to fully accept that this was likely not something I could solve in one attempt. Id been forcing myself to think that way for far too long, using the resets as an excuse to take more risks, but not going so far as to consider discarding a reset entirely.


    I told Ephira part my plan, under the guise of strengthening our partnership by assisting her in acquiring the scepter. The artifact really was the key to all this. It didnt matter who bought it, what mattered was who acquired after the fact, and used it to create my copy. After some quibbling over the details, she agreed, looking more than a little pleased at the outcome of our meeting.


    I took one more look down into the battle-torn depths of the sanctum, and said a quick prayer that my fate would end up better than theirs.


    ----


    There was an ever-growing list of things I needed to do and not nearly enough time to do all of them. Ephira had set the meeting with Mifral four days from our lunch, roughly a week from the day of the attack.


    It was my job to leak the details of the meeting to Ralakos and Persephone. The former would be easy. Just a side comment made during one of our meetings. The latter was much more difficult. After much deliberation, I finally decided to operate as if I hadnt screwed her at all, leaving the sapphire out of it entirely.


    Hammer it is, then. I said.


    We exited the carriage and navigated the winding upward path towards the mine. I caught glimpses of Ephiras guards hiding behind dilapidated equipment and piles of detritus wearing unmarked armor. Persephone had been a thorn in Ephiras side for too long, and now it was time to collect.


    Goosebumps formed on my arm as I looked at the men hiding in wait. I told myself that the unmarked armor didnt mean anything. It made sense to use unbranded men for a situation like this, but it still felt far too reminiscent of the ambush within the twilight chambers.


    It doesnt matter whose side youre on. Youre here to shake the tree and see what falls out.


    There was the faint sound of arguing up ahead, emitting from an old building that looked like defunct mess hall. It had two guards in rose-colored tabards posted outside the doors, quietly facing outward as several less disciplined men in mercenary grays paced, before them, their eyes sharp. The tension was palpable, before we even entered the scene. Then it somehow ratcheted up even higher. The three groups of guards faced off. Ephira stepped forward.


    I have a meeting with Madame Derdre.


    One of the guards in pink looked at the other, disquiet clear in his expression. Shes a bit busy at the moment, Councillor.


    High Councillor. And what is your name? Ephira asked sweetly. Id been on the other side of that particular tone not long ago, and did not envy the guard whatsoever.


    Higat, maam.


    Excellent. Higat, let me explain to you how this is going to go. Ephira stepped forward and her men stayed behind, rather than escalating the situation. Youre just doing your job. I get it. But my time is precious. Im not going to threaten you. But what I am going to do is leave. Just that. Leave. And whatever plans your master intended to make with me will be null and forfeit. It is not my place to predict how blame will be assigned, but Ephira let the silence hang. The guards once more exchanged a meaningful look, this time laden with exhaustion, then stepped aside.


    Just you. The guard clarified.


    And my companion. Ephira held out a hand towards me.


    Fine. The guard rolled his eyes. Just the two of you, then.


    We walked through the double doors of the run down mess. Rubble was strewn across the dust-laden ground, and dim light poked specular beams through holes in the roof. Considering the garish, gaudy nature of her estate, the break-in and theft must have shaken Mifral up quite seriously to cause her to stoop so low.


    The voices arguing grew louder as we delved deeper and passed a few other guards, who gave tired looks but did not attempt to stop us.


    Just give me the scepter. The bid is already outrageous, theres no way its even worth close to what Im willing to pay.


    After everything Ive been through in the last week? You can kiss my ass. It doesnt matter how much you throw your weight around. Im this close to calling off the auction all together and keeping it for myself. You can all go back to hades for all I care.


    I stepped through the door to find Persephone grabbing Mifral by the collar. She towered over the plump woman and looked ready to throttle her.


    Mifral saw me and pointed. You!


    Persephones mouth turned downward. You, indeed.

 Chapter 59: Enclave XXIX

    Chapter 59: Enclave XXIX


    I was incredibly relieved that, so far, Ralakos had not shown.This chapter is updated by


    No one wanted to move first. Everyone stood across from each other, feet planted, eyes narrowed. The straining tension was insufferably thick.


    Mifral, suddenly released by Persephone, shifted backwards on her heels like a leaf lightly caressed by a summer breeze.


    Ephira rolled her eyes. For Nyxs sake, sit down before you fall down.


    Mifral did as she was told, only to pop right back up, defiant. No. Not until you explain what hes doing here. She pointed the same chubby finger at me again.


    Certainly. This is Sontar. He has been assisting me over the last few months in rooting out some undesirables in the Thulian district. Her gaze flicked to Persephone.


    Persephone must have expected what was coming because she didnt even bother trying to lie. Instead, she glowered at me from across the room. Careful with that one, Councillor. From my experience, the loyalty of elves is easily bought.


    As if you didnt set me up. I snapped.


    No idea what youre talking about. Persephone shot back.


    Mifral looked like a woman trying to watch all three fields at a tournament.


    Wait. So. She traced an invisible line from me to Ephira, to Persephone.


    Ephira nodded. Its all a bit convoluted. The short version is that Sontar got word of a conspiracy to rob your estate. He didnt have time to come to me, so instead, he inserted himself into the situation to help mitigate the damage.


    Mitigate! Mifrals face screwed up into a wrinkly mass. Theyre still cleaning up the damage! Thousands of rods. Not to mention she caught herself.


    Not to mention the sapphire you lost? I asked. I pulled the giant gem from the pocket of my robe and approached her, placing it in her outstretched hand, bowing. There were three of them, and only one of me. I apologize I was not able to do more.


    From out of Mifrals view, I saw Persephone visibly deflate.


    Mifral stared into the sapphire, and a small sick smile braced her lips. Well. At least thats something. Doesnt excuse you for treating me like a neanderthal though. Her face grew furious and her furor shifted to Ephira. You really ought to train your help better.


    The slightest rumble of a growl emitted from Ephiras throat. I didnt bother pointing out that I had not, at any point, touched her. It likely wouldnt have made a difference.


    Of course, Mifral. Ephira said, clearly losing patience as Mifral pulled a magnifying lens from her pocket to inspect the gem. However, there are more important matters to discuss. I did not invite this woman, and I suspect, neither did you. Though it is nice to finally get confirmation of the fourth bidder. Ephira scanned Persephone up and down. Though Im not sure why youd bother letting a half-demon bid on anything. Everyone knows her kind loves to cheat.


    Shes never been a problem before this scepter nightmare. Mifral muttered.


    Persephone had been visibly deciding whether to stay or leave, and Ephiras final taunt had made that decision for her. Really. Were going there? Why dont you come down from your tower, councillor? Everyone knows the rumors of how you keep industry under your thumb. Bowing and scraping to the humans. Enforcing the tax mercilessly, then publicly decrying it as if it doesnt line your pockets. Youre more of a thief than I am.


    Mifral. Ephira said, never looking away from Persephone. You do not know this woman like I do. You have never had a bad experience with her because you have never had anything she truly wanted. She will not stop. The sacking of your home was just the beginning.


    Hands trembling, Mifral visibly quivered at the words, clinging to the hem of her silk skirt. It was clear she wasnt used to doing this sort of business in person, while Ephira was. If Persephone did nothing, Ephira would demolish any resistance and take what was hers.


    As if sensing exactly that, Persephone closed on Mifral, coiling around her like a snake. The councillor sounds so sure of herself, when in reality, shes here for the same reason I am. The nobility is an act. The truth is, shed rob you blind if she could get away with it.


    An argument that would have carried more weight had you not already gone out of your way to cause Mifrals pain and suffering. I extended a hand out towards her, palm up. Your men had every intention of harming Lady Mifral if she didnt give up the key to the safe. They would have, had I not intervened.


    Yes. Persephone said dryly. Thank goodness you were there, to protect her. As if you and your master werent scouting out the scepter to begin with.


    I heard a deep, booming voice coming from the mess hall doors.


    Ralakos.


    for reasons we will talk about later. His smile disappeared, and his gaze went to the hole riddled-roof. A small stream of unsettled dust rained down.


    Then another. And another. Until even the argument in front of us faded to quiet, all faces upturned towards the ceiling.


    You sent Kilvius and Nethtari away, correct? His voice was tense.


    Yes.


    Good. Hide. Ralakos said. In a motion so fast it blurred, he called a combination of water and fire, weaving it together into a spell pattern more complex than any I had seen before, like a vibrant never-ending spiral of ovals within lines.


    Then, before I could even react, or throw a hand up, he grabbed my shoulder and flung me backwards. Warmth transferred from his hand to my shoulder. He was incredibly strong and the force propelled me across the room.


    My head bounced off the ground brutally, and my vision swam. There was a surge of alarm as my arms and legs disappeared, before I realized it was a result of the spell Ralakos cast.


    I wasnt completely invisiblethere was still a distortion there if you looked close enough, but it was close.


    The roof caved in, and a dozen dark shapes descended. Blue-eyed demons covered in that deep, frothing blackness crashed to the floor. Mifral died instantly, while Persephone dove beneath a nearby table.


    I thought Id seen real magic before, the night of the ambush in the twilight chambers. At the time it was completely overwhelming.


    But that was the moment I understood:


    I had seen nothing.


    What I saw made the fighting in the chambers look like children attacking each other with sticks. There were dozens of demons, perhaps hundreds. An endless horrible stream of ripping claws and tearing teeth and fingers that extended like shadows.


    Mifral died almost immediately, bisected diagonally, her mouth frozen open in a permanent fixture of horrified surprise. Persephone tried to run, but was pulled to the ground by a mass of smaller demons with glowing blue horns and torn apart by their clawing hands.


    Ephira and Ralakos became gods given form.


    Ephira glowed, so brightly she was almost impossible to look at directly, the detailed lines of her form reduced to the glowing mass within a lumen lamp.


    She flickered in and out of existence, smiting demons with a sizzling splatter every time she reappeared. I thought it was pure elemental magic, at first, but then she cast what can only be described as an electric firestorm, the roiling cloud shed used to strike down Shear but in the shape of a tornado.


    I knew shed been holding back, for Mifrals sake, but I had no idea the extent to which that was true.


    Ralakos ran on floating fragments of earth, soaking demons in water so that Ephira could finish them, casting constant morphing waves of fire and flanged discs of stone. The mess hall was reduced to rubble in seconds. Most of the soldiers had died in an initial surprise attack. There were a handful of small groups remaining, all with less than a dozen men.


    I caught a glimpse of Erdos and his group being forced back down the path by an onslaught of greater demons.


    It was happening again. I wanted to scream, or break something, or anything to let the gods know that I was tired of watching people around me die, and not being able to do a damn thing about it.


    Praying, I reached for the air.


    It came to me as a breeze, weak and limpid as it had been ever since that first time.


    Strong as they were, Ephira and Ralakos were simply too outnumbered. Ephira kept trying to teleport, weave the symbol that I recognized from my scroll, but there were too many, and she was interrupted before being able to complete the spell.


    Ralakos was still holding strong.


    Then it happened. I saw him for the first time. My bones turned to jelly.


    The Arch-Fiend.

 Chapter 60: Enclave XXX

    Chapter 60: Enclave XXX


    But both his arms were armored in black chitin that reflected the constant blasts of fire and electricity. Cruel black blades jutted from the elbows of the cauldrons, the fingers of his hands extending into vicious claws. Shadow wrapped around him like a slinking, malevolent wreathe, and jagged horns formed a strange, oversized crown around his head. He floated in the air, several feet above the ground.


    Ephira and Ralakos saw him simultaneously and stopped short.


    Ralakos looked terrified.


    The arch-fiend looked in my direction and I ducked down behind a boulder on the outskirts of the battlefield, invisibility be damned. I felt his eyes, searching, scalding, like the heat of a lumen searchlight.


    The heat dissipated. And I peeked up over the rock just in time to see the creature move. His hand barely left his side.


    Ephira fell, clutching her neck, throat slit with a crimson gash.


    Ralakos tried to cover her, but the archfiend pushed him back. Every time Ralakos tried to form a spell, the fiend moved his left hand with a dark glow, and Ralakoss spell fizzled out.


    Ralakos pulled his sword and imbued it with a glowing white light. The fiend didnt try to cancel it, just watched with muted interest, like a predator observing trapped prey.


    My hand squeezed on the hilt of my sword. Id coated it in rose oil beforehand, but I knew from my experience with Kastramoth that demon-fire would do next to nothing for me in this situation. I had my alchemical flash powder and molten smoke, but Ralakos was surrounded by a legion of demons. They werent waiting politely, either. Every time he would drift too close to the edge of the circle, they would swipe at him.


    There was nothing I could do.


    Ralakos dove at the arch-fiend, sword swinging in impossibly fast patterns only to be slapped out of the air. He landed on his side, and the arch-fiends hand glowed blue, forcing Ralakos into a kneeling position.


    Take him. The arch-fiends voice was loud enough that I felt it resonate in my lower back, a vibrating fire that shuddered down my spine and through my sciatic nerves.


    Through the terrifying fog, I had enough conscious thought left to realize the discrepancy.


    They were taking Ralakos captive. Why?


    Logically, it had to be him. All other possibilities had been slaughtered. Ephira was close to Ralakos in skill, if not stronger. So, why take him?


    The arch-fiends head snapped over towards me. I dove to the ground and swore when I realized I could see my hands.


    The invisibility had worn off. In a shaking, sweating panic, I pulled the teleportation scroll from my side and unrolled it, pouring mana into the rune. It must have taken only seconds to fill, but each one ticked by agonizingly slowly.


    I felt that spotlight heat on the back of my neck again.


    Slowly, I looked up. The arch-fiend was watching me wordlessly, floating above the rock.


    Dont make me chase you.


    My entire body vibrated with the sound. For a moment, I almost considered it. It was over. But then I remembered what Nethtari had said about demons and royal blood. Somehow, I didnt think they would just let me die. The random Greater Demon that killed me the first time in the enclave likely did so on instinct.


    This one was different.


    There would be other things in store for me.


    I finished channeling. There was a snapping whoosh and I felt my body being flattened and pulled all at the same time. For a moment, the arch-fiends face disappeared, and I was pulled into a shimmering blue light.


    Then, from below, I felt pain. A monstrous black hand had reached through the distortion and grabbed my ankle. It yanked me backward, and it felt like the skin over my entire body might tear itself loose from my muscles and deglove.


    I hit the ground, a whimpering, shivering mess. I was back behind the same boulder as before. The scroll had failed.


    Two demons hauled me up by my arms. They cackled and giggled like sadistic children. The arch-fiend looked on, impassive, as they dragged me away.


    I told you not to run. The arch-fiends eyes bored into me.


    ----


    I hung upside down from a chain, slowly swaying from side to side. The chamber was somewhere under-ground. For now, the agony had receded into the cold, cool, annals of shock. Droplets of blood trickled down the back of my neck through my hair, dripping steadily onto the floor.


    I had thought that I no longer feared death. That painwhile horrible and never something I could ignorecould eventually be shrugged off. After I died, the pain would go away. It was rational. What had happened with Kastramoth happened because everything was still so new. I wasnt used to it yet.


    I was wrong.


    I think, its probably better to leave some of the details sparse. Id rather not relive them, any more than you want to hear them. But I cant just omit what happened to me completely. So much of that night has stayed with me, even after everything else.


    The sound a ligament makes when it is severed.


    Yes.


    I laid back on the blanket, staring up at the cloudless sky. Slowly, I breathed in the mana, letting it fill me, the chaos of my mind fading into serenity.


    His name is Ozra.


    I snapped back into the underground chamber the second the name left my lips. Everything hurt. I tried to scream, but a bloody, bubbly hack came out instead. I continued drawing the mana, trying to clear my mind and only partially succeeding. With my remaining eye, I panned the room.


    There was a table with bloody implements to my right.


    Theyd tied my wrists together with ropes, as they were two swollen for manacles.


    Immediately, I tried to summon the spark, but it fizzled out.


    After what felt like hours, I managed to free a hand


    The door creaked open and I began to whimper. A small body was tossed through, legs and feet bound.


    A demon stepped through the doorwayit was one of shadowy greater demons, the same sort that had killed me the first time. She pulled the hood off the infernals head.


    Guess who came looking for you. The demon whispered.


    Only then did I see his face.


    Jorra was hyperventilating. His eyes were dyed an excruciating pink, and trails of snot dripped down from his nose onto his chin.


    Jorra. I said. It came out more like Jooaaa.


    Jorra started weeping, his eyes glistening in the dim light. Cairn? Cairn! Please. Please. Tell me you have a plan. Cairn theyre going to kill me if you dont tell them what they want to know.


    I froze. He was bound, I was bound. My gaze went to the tools on the plate.


    Ki. Thh Staa.


    Kick the stand.


    What? Jorra asked, his eyes wide, Oh my god. Oh, gods. What did they do to you? Cairn, your face


    I repeated it again, and this time he got it.


    With a bit of rolling a maneuvering, he could kick it an inch or two towards me. Though my whole body screamed, I began to shift my weight from side to side, swinging the chain, arm outstretched desperately. The thumb and index finger on my hand were both still good, so itd be less of a grab, more of a pinch.


    I heard the demons voice outside. She was talking to someone, their voices carrying a low, mirthful tone.


    Metal clinked beneath my fingertips. I was aiming for a saw, anything to cut through my binds but came up with the short, sharp blade of a scalpel instead.


    I swore, and started trying awkwardly to cut through the rope that held my other hand, the blade biting into me repeatedly as I sawed. Slowly, the hope drained out of Jorras face.


    He saw it before I did. We werent getting out of this.


    I heard the clink of keys outside the door.


    There was only one way I could help Jorra now.


    Clo yoh eyes.


    Close your eyes.


    It comforted me that he listened.


    No one saw me cut my own throat.


    It took two tries.


    The first time I pulled back right before the vein. The second time the blade struck true and warm red gushed down my throat, past where my nose used to be, into my eyes and splattered in a torrent onto the floor.


    I heard Jorra cry out before the world went black.


    Again.

 Chapter 61: Enclave XXXI

    Chapter 61: Enclave XXXI


    Again.


    I heard the words, but the darkness did not flee. It gathered around me like a blanket, muffling my perception with a dull groaning buzz. I held on to the void and immersed myself in it. Strangely, it was no longer as terrifying as it once was. It felt familiar.


    It felt safe.


    The great black beast rose from the ebony pools, dark matter drifting off its colossal form. The feel of it had changed. Once, it had the aura of a reptile, like the dragons of decades passed. Now, if I had a bit more definition, it could have easily passed as a beastly horse, its appearance alien and equine in equal measure.


    Why are you here? It repeated the same question as so long ago, the question seizing all conscious thought.


    I opened my mouth to speak, surprised to find thatunlike the last timeI could.


    Because the gods are cruel. The words were bitter. I am here because the gods decided it would be amusing to make a coward a hero.


    Mmmmm. The great black vibrated. It could have meant anything, but it felt like anger, somehow. Wrong. You are here because you have not yet learned the lesson.


    What lesson?


    The beast bent down, until all that stood before me was a massive wall of blackened flesh. The cycle must end. That is tantamount. Your life does not matter. The lives of those around you do not matter. All that matters is that the cycle is ended, and this world allowed to come to its natural conclusion.


    A surge of anger cut through the terror. So, whats left then? Letting the clock expire? Letting Thoth win? I dont understand. As soon as her name was mentioned, the black beast seemed to shudder in revulsion.


    The linchpin must be sundered. The black beast rumbled. As long as it exists, this world will be forever held in stasis, its gods unable to return to the cosmos.


    Wait. Thoth is the linchpin? Even within the fog of my mind, I knew this was important. It was so difficult to think clearly, here. So what happens if she dies?


    The linchpin must be sundered, the black beast repeated in the same tone of voice.


    It looked like I wasnt going to get much more in terms of usable information. Still, the timing of this felt strange. Why are you telling me all this now? There were plenty of opportunities before.


    The beast did not answer. Instead, a series of images flashed in front of my mind. I saw myself from the outside. I was laying in an infirmary bed on my back, arms resting over the blankets. At first, I thought I was sleeping. But my eyes were open and blank. I stared up at the ceiling. A trickle of drool ebbed from my mouth.


    Nethtari was holding my hand while Kilvius dabbed perspiration from my forehead with a cloth, balancing Agarin in his other arm.


    Any news? Nethtari had deep-seated bags under her eyes, and her complexion had suffered.


    Kilvius shook his head, his face grim. The same word as before. Nothing physically wrong with him. His mind is another story.


    Maybe we should call for Maya.


    Kilvius snorted. The life mages are more than capable. I doubt she could do anything they cant.


    Its not about that, Nilend. I mean, maybe she could make a difference, but thats a shot in the dark. Nethtari rubbed her forehead with both hands. Theyre close. Maybe hearing her voice would make a difference.


    While Kilvius considered it, he set Agarin down next to me on the infirmary bed. Agarin toddled, pushing himself on his knees, so he could pat my stomach. I think youre right. But lets give it a little more time, Neth. Ralakoss elven healer could make the difference, once she gets here.


    Another week. Then we hire someone to find Maya and bring her back, Nethtari said. Kilvius scooped Agarin back up and left. After a moments consideration, Nethtari leaned in to speak to me, her brow furrowed, her monotone voice earnest.


    Hi Cairn. Sentimentality isnt really my thing, but here it goes. Jorras been asking about you every day. He really got used to having you around. Nethtari wiped at her eye. You know, youve always surprised me. From that very first day. We dont really entertain visitors, I mean, you remember how much of a wreck the house was. The thought of bringing visiting royalty into my homeregardless of the circumstanceswas horrifying. I was so embarrassed. But you didnt turn your nose up, not in the slightest.


    Nethtaris mouth turned upwards, slightly.


    At first, I thought, oh, hes just polite. Then we clashed at the trial. When Ralakos asked you to stay with him, I thought for sure youd take it. After all, youd seen our home, how we lived. Why stay in a hovel when you can stay in a mansion? And yet, you surprised me again. She squeezed my hand. Youre like family to us. Maybe thats silly, maybe its not. All I ask is that you surprise us, one last time.


    The silence hung, as I watched outside myself.


    Nethtari seemed to stir suddenly, gaze shifting towards the window at something beyond my view. Whats happening out there?


    The auric sun turned red.


    I dont want to see this, I said, looking around for the black beast.


    You seem to think, if you hide in the sickness of your mind, that nothing will happen. That you can simply cease to exist.


    Please stop.


    I dont know, dammit! I shouted at him. I wanted to rant and rave, but the way Kilvius leaned back from me made me sick to my stomach. Its all a blur I said, my voice emotionless.


    Thats okay, Kilvius said. He reached over to hug me. His touch made me feel nauseous. I didnt want understanding. I didnt want compassion. They were useless emotions, and neither of them would help me fix this.


    The light from outside seemed inordinately bright. Everything in the infirmary was poorly aligned irritated me further, and the fog clouded my thoughts.


    Can you get a life mage to fix my head? I asked.


    Kilvius blinked. They already did, Cairn. Thats why Theros was here. To see if an alternate element would have a better chance of awakening you.


    Not good. Terrible, in fact. The way I felt now was worse than how Id felt immediately following Kastramoths ending of my escape attempt in the Everwood.


    Something played at the edge of my vision and I jumped. Id thought for sure Id seen the arch-fiend there leering


    Watching silently as the woman signed her name demonic name within my flesh, the stroke of the scalpel her calligraphy pen, the blood leaking from me her ink. Over and over she asked me the same thing.


    What happened to your soul, little human?


    I told her frantically about the soul damage from my overuse of the demon-flame, but that did not satisfy her. She cut and cut and cut until my explanations spanned hundreds of lies, anything to make her stop, but she would not believe me no matter what I said simply holding her pen to her lips and whetting the tip before the writing started once more


    Cairn? Cairn. Kilvius shook me gently, his eyes full of concern. I did not deserve his kindness.


    I did not want his kindness.


    Let me be, I said, my entire body shaking.


    Kilvius looked torn.


    I need to think. Alone. I said. My voice deepened to a timbre that was not my own, but one Id heard many times, all throughout my childhood.


    Slowly, Kilvius stood. Ill be back later.


    I didnt respond.


    ----


    I walked barefoot throughout the enclave. Practically everyone I passed paused to gape, hinting at what a bizarre picture I made. My bare feet grew sore against the pavement, but still, I trudged on, following a familiar path to the surface caverns.


    The shadows and whispers assaulted me at every turn. I could hear them laughing, taunting me. Chiding my weakness. Reminding me of the way I had begged, over and over, for it to end.


    Maya. I wanted Maya back.


    Mind entrenched in the depths of the memory, I found myself in the surface cavern that Jorra and I practiced in. The straw targets loomed distantly.


    I let the mana wash over me in a torrent. It did not bring me peace. Nothing brought me peace. I breathed out air and began to weave the spell. Then, I released it.


    Over and over, the invisible line of compressed air struck against the target, bits of yellowed straw splitting and flying free.


    It wasnt enough, not even close. But it was an improvement.


    I cast projectile after projectile until my vision began to gray at the edges and my mind buzzed.


    Exhausted, I immersed myself in the crystal lake. I heard my fathers voice. He was laughing at me. In my minds eye, I saw him lean over the shallow pool, his arms crossed.


    Weak.


    For the first time in my life, I agreed with him wholeheartedly. I had been weak. Id been afraid of failing. Afraid of dying. The demons had shown me exactly how useless that fear was.


    There was something I needed to do. Something critical. This reset was almost certainly lost, but that didnt change the fact that I could not let what happened to me happen again.


    Never again.


    I trudged back to the empty house and gathered all my gold. Then, having donned my clothes, I left the mask behind and made my way to the Thulian district.


    There were many spells I wanted to have inscribed.


    But one stood out beyond the rest.

 Chapter 62: Enclave XXXII

    Chapter 62: Enclave XXXII


    What kind of edgy adolescent crap is this? Its a recipe for disaster, it is. The red infernal named Garth was bulky and large, wearing a simple black apron that reflected my face. Id opted for the establishment that Persephone had pointed me to in the past life.


    Its what I want.


    I had done a good deal of research on this before bringing it to the inscriber. My biggest danger was no longer death. Rather, it was psychological damage. I hadnt truly understood the gravity of that until now. But survival instinct wasnt something I could just shake off. Even as desperate and horrid as my previous circumstances were, it was untenably difficult to cut my own throat. My mind fought me until the last moment.


    Had Jorras life not also been on the line, I doubted I could have gone through with it, and could have easily lost track of time and missed the chance to restart the scenario. So, I needed to make it effortless to carrying it out once the decision had been made.


    I needed a way to take pain out of the equation.


    Youve got no other inscriptions, and you want to start with that?


    Its important. And Im paying. I shook the bag.


    If death is what you seek, boy, there are easier ways to find it. He said. He was sketching something on a paper pad, clearly having already dismissed me in his mind.


    Its not about that. Its about being able to live fearlessly, knowing the consequences of my actions cannot reach beyond a certain point.


    The inscriber gave me a weary glance, then looked over the design again. Ive done this sort of thing before. Usually for mercenaries who work in the vast reaches of Uskar, and the occasional demonologist. Theres a problem with your design.


    I looked down at the sketch. It was a simple inscription for a displacement lance, the sort of advanced air magic I couldnt hope to form at my current stage. It was a form of hyper pressurized air-cannon that could force air through matter, much a much tinier version of the wind-scythes I had been practicing just hours ago. Due to their size and minimal mana bonding them together, they dissipated much more quickly and were really more of a short range tool. From what I read, these narrow focus short-ranged spells were often used for assassination when a dagger wouldnt get the job done.


    Whats wrong with it? I asked, turning the design from side to side.


    It''s too large. The man groused, fingers toying with his narrow mustache.


    I was mildly offended. The mana requirement is practically nothing.


    Aye. But not small enough. He eyed me knowingly. Look here. If youre serious, and this isnt some strange-teenage-fascination-with-death thing, what you want is something brutally efficient. Something that will go off immediately, and take as little mana as possible to do so. This design. He tapped the page. Will take several seconds to charge, and its also not guaranteed to kill immediately.


    Really? The heart wont do the job fast enough?


    From prior experience, I found that difficult to believe. The second Barions sword had run me through in his basement my entire body started to shut down almost instantly.


    No. Garth confirmed, his face grim. Especially if you run afoul of a dark elemental who decides he wants to keep you alive with the power of your own blood.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I watched, morbidly fascinated as he reworked the design, redrawing the lines until it was strangely symmetrical, like a monochrome rendition of a landscape reflected in a lake.


    This will go on your chest, he poked me in the sternum, considering the placement. Well wire a mana shunt through here. He drew a line up past my neck to the back of my head. Youd be surprised the amount of damage the body can sustain


    I very much doubted that.


    I looked at it in the mirror. The jagged demonic text was nearly completed on one side of the vertical line that bisected my chest, meaning the inscription process was less than halfway done.


    Its not uncommon for folk to do this over a matter of days, Garth said, picking up on my disquiet, We could pick it up tomorrow, or the day after.


    No. I ran a dampened and across my face. It was difficult enough to get up the nerve to do this the first time. I didnt want to give myself the chance to back out. Lets finish it now.


    I sat back down in the chair and Garth began to work on me again. My mind did not flee as it had the first time. Instead, I found myself pondering Ozras words.


    They insisted. Never mention their name.


    That was critical. I knew it. There was another layer to this. I ran it all back in my mind over the course of hours. There were certain things that put me off about Ralakos and prevented me from disqualifying him directly. The way he had acted at the trial. His arcane savvy, his inscrutable nature, his family history. If it wasnt Guemonand I didnt see how it was, given that Ralakos had men watching him for the majority of the previous resetit was almost natural that itd be Ralakos, controlling things from behind the scenes. It was a subtle, layered sort of manipulation, the kind Id expect from someone of Thaddeuss ilk, the kind that followed a natural narrative.


    The more I thought about it, the more Ralakos seemed to be the person I was led to suspect. Led being the key word.


    Never mention their name.


    Ralakos had been captured, while every other attendant at the mine had been killed.


    Never mention their name.


    It hit me all at once. The person behind it all was smarter than Id given them credit for, and knew far more than Id expected.


    They knew. The person pulling the strings knew about my resets.


    Or more specifically, they knew about my visions. That was the only reason for them to emphasize so strongly to the demons that they remain hidden behind the scenes. They knew there was a chance that any particular moment that I experienced could be gleaned and observed in the past.


    I listed them out on one hand. Kilvius, Nethtari, Maya. All of them knew. As paranoid as I was, I was not willing to entertain the idea that any of them had betrayed me, at least not intentionally. It was entirely possible, however, that one of them had let the information slip. Likely early on, before Id fully formed relationships with them and my presence was still novel and new.


    Or, when my life was in danger, and Maya was bartering for my continued survival.


    The possibility seemed disturbingly likely. Theyd wanted to send me away, making sure that if I died, I died outside the enclave. Had Maya told someone? Had word carried from that person to the one who now held our lives in their hands.


    My mind clouded, memories of pain and agony chasing away all rational thought. But even as the darkness descended upon me, I was certain I was right. Someone had been playing this game from the very beginning.


    And I was done being toyed with.


    Garth finished my inscription, handing me a small bottle of ointment to be applied in the mornings and evenings. It wasnt as intensive as other inscriptions and would take a shorter time to heal, but he still advised me to take it easy on expending too much mana lest I risk an infection.


    I thanked him for his time and left. Hed charged me much less than expected. I considered returning to the house, but the idea of facing Nethtari and Kilvius turned my stomach. Instead, I headed to Casikass apothecary. The time for subtlety and subterfuge were over. There were a few things I would need.


    I didnt care if he was sick.


    It was time to visit Guemon and have a conversation that was long overdue.

 Chapter 63: Enclave XXXIII

    Chapter 63: Enclave XXXIII


    I read quietly within my mothers quarters, as I often did when she was taken with sudden bouts of the consumption we eventually came to know as Nithias syndrome. It hadnt gotten serious yet, father still insisting it was nothing more than the occasional weakness of the body that had plagued her since childhood. Still, I had been practically raised on stories with protagonists who lost parents or parental figures to early tragedy, so some part of me was terrified that if I left her, even for a second, fate would take her from me as part of some overwrought inciting incident.


    I couldnt know then, of course, that losing a parent to sickness doesnt motivate you to do much of anything. The opposite is more often true. When losing one of the precious few in the world who loves you unconditionally, the world itself loses much of its luster. You rally against the gods, against fate itself, and the things you used to enjoy lose their sheen, and the priorities you once held reorder themselves until the list is practically unrecognizable.


    Not knowing any of that, I stuck to her side like glue, terrified that my life would take the same course as so many of the stories we had shared.


    It was more difficult to delve into the serious, Neo-fable styled fiction Id grown so accustomed to while she was sick. So instead, I read light things. Biographies of famous figures. Comedies. Stories about characters who had little to worry about other than going to school and learning.


    The closest Id come to reading a serious tale was the story I currently read. The Ghoul Charmer, an amusing, pulpy novel about a wandering bard that found himself in all manner of trouble. The bard had a chaotic and musing relationship with a patron god who treated him well and looked after him, so long as he followed the rules.


    Do you dislike it? My mother asked, setting her book down on her simple white gown. Youre reading slower than usual.


    Its not dislike, exactly, its just not really grabbing me. I closed my book, leaving my finger between the parchment to hold my place. Ildran always seems to have things magically work out for him. Either his god interferes or he acquires a new spell that is exactly what he needs to overcome his problems.


    Youre unhappy that your lighthearted adventure story is lighthearted? Mother teased.


    Thats reductive. I rolled my eyes. And its not about tone, more about substance. I just wanted something moreFollow current novels at novelhall.com)


    I felt father coming through slight vibrations in the floor before I saw him. He stepped into the room smoothly, holding something behind his back. The daisy looked comically small in his massive hand, smaller than a blade of grass.


    He saw me, and the flower immediately disappeared within the gulf of a palm turned fist, a single crushed petal falling to the floor.


    Good afternoon, my King. My mothers voice took on the smooth, measured nature it always did when she was talking to Gil.


    Wife, Gil grunted. He was still focused on me. Why arent you in the practice yard with Sera?


    I shuddered slightly. The last time Id sparred with Sera shed left so many bruises that I was unable to sleep in any other position than supine. Instinctively, I pulled my legs up in front of me as a sort of shield.


    I was keeping mother company.


    King Gil studied me, blank faced. Oh? And was she so lonely she asked you neglect your duties and attend her instead?


    Gil please, mother started, her face the expression of queasy disquiet she often wore when conflict brewed between the two of us.


    No. Im here because I wanted to read, I said. My chin jutted out slightly, a whisper of the defiance I felt already growing within me.


    And what material are you teaching so studiously? Father held his hand out to mother. With pale fingers, she handed him the book, the arm of her dress slightly yellowed where it was pressed to her mouth during sudden fits of coughing.


    I felt a vague sense of wrongness, almost a violation, as he leafed through the book. Father had never taken an interest in our reading before.


    Go to the yard. His voice was stoic. Train with your sister.


    Shooting an apologetic look to mother, I did as he asked. After exiting the room I paused, listening as their voices picked up in volume and tempo, then retreated to the yard.


    King Gil summoned me a few days later. I hoped it was for something entirely unrelated, but that hope was dashed as soon as I entered his study. The Ghoul Charmer was splayed out spine-up on his desk. I felt immediately uncomfortable at the positioning of the book. Id done something similar in my childhood, and the librarian had lectured me for over an hour.


    Father. I bowed in greeting.


    Sit. I dont have much time. A scribe attended him, fussing with a massive stack of documents. My fathers face was uncharacteristically thoughtful, as if he was unsure of how to proceed. Finally, he reached out and seized the book, snapping it shut and pointing the outward edge at me much the same way as a man might brandish a knife. This trash. Is this the sort of thing the two of you always read?


    I considered the question. It was likely hed already interrogated mother on the topic. My father disliked asking questions he didnt already know at least part of the answer to. I decided to go with a slightly embellished truth.


    Something had spooked Guemon. Badly.


    Just in case, I kept my arms out at my sides, hands in clear view and away from the pockets of my robe. I was thankful that I had decided to leave my sword at the house, though the cold lines of my dagger weighed heavily against my back.


    I approached the guards at the front gate, fully prepared to be rebuffed, and have to argue and bully my way through.


    The guards parted almost immediately. The gate slid open.


    It threw me off momentarily. If Guemon was taking all these precautions, it was strange that I was not restrained purely on principle. But no. If anything, it almost as if he was expecting me. If this had happened last time I would have been concerned about walking into a trap. But after the asmodials, my perspective had shifted, warped almost. I hoped it was a trap. If my suspicions were wrong, and it did turn out to be Guemon at fault, that would only simplify things.


    A man in red approached me. A human. He sauntered up to me with a disarming grin, not concerned at all with accosting a prince, lacking all the grim determination of the surrounding men. If anything, that general sense of apathy made him feel all the more dangerous.


    Before he could pat me down, I pulled the sheathed dagger from my back, making sure to keep it sheath. The surrounding guards stiffened. From the corner of my eye, I saw a rooftop crossbowman take aim, settling the shaft of the weapon into the crook of his elbow.


    Guemons men were not screwing around.


    The man in red did not react. His hand never strayed close to his sword. Slowly and carefully, I tossed it underhanded to him. He caught it with a spinning flourishimmediately locating the weight of the blade and flipped it pommel up, flicking his thumb upwards against the cross-guard.


    Lowhil. Well. He looked me up and down. How very metropolitan. When I didnt rise to the bait, he walked around me, but did not physically pat me down as I had expected. Anything else I need to be aware of?


    No. I said, honestly.


    If you say so. The man in red sounded disappointed. Then, he took me by the arm and lead me towards the house. Rather than walking straight in, he diverted us to a golden platform set off to the side. The way it pressed into the grass implied it was a recent addition.


    I stepped on to the platform. The man in red opened a book, as if he was returning to some afternoon reading. Beneath my feet, the platform buzzed, and a wave of foreign mana passed through me. It crackled at the still unhealed wound in my chest.


    The man in red whistled once, and made a signal behind his back. Then, just as casually as before, he opened the sides of my robe, revealing the newly placed inscription.


    He clucked his tongue. Would you look at that? We match. He pulled down the neck of his shirt to reveal an inscription. It was different than mine, even at first glance. The only thing our two inscriptions had in common was the head as the focal point of the spell. His inscription was longer and winding. And I was pretty sure I picked out the individual words of demonic that related to fire and explosions.


    It wasnt a suicide contingency. It was the closest a man could come to a guarantee that the person who killed him would die violently.


    He released my robe and led me into the house.


    What had once been a modest, stately home was now overrun with heavily armed and armored guests. A pack of them played stones at the kitchen table. One exited the bathroom. The wide halls felt packed and claustrophobic, and I was suddenly furious with Guemon. Even if he had nothing to do with the attack, the size of the group must have meant more than few of the men here had been pulled way from duties guarding the Enclave itself.


    A number of Guemons doors were nailed shut and barricaded. Every window was closed off with wood, leaving small gaps that could been seen through but not into. For the first time, I felt a slight pang of worry. Some of these fortifications looked permanent.


    They took me into a back room.


    The sight was horrifying. My mind flickered back to the asmodials. It didnt last long, but the flash was enough to leave me panting and covered in sweat.


    The rumors of Guemons illness were not exaggerated.


    His violet skin had faded to a sickly lilac. A gelatinous amber ooze covered his mouth and nose, which he breathed through heavily. A series of tubes filtered dull blood into a gray receptacle, which was treated somehow, coming out bright red and returning to his arm.


    Guemon wasnt just sick. He was dying.


    His eyes opened, scanning the room with the sort of malaise that goes together with a late stage illness. He saw me, and his lips turned downward, some fire coming back into his face and making him slightly more recognizable.


    Come to finish the job? He asked.

 Chapter 64: Enclave XXXIV

    Chapter 64: Enclave XXXIV


    Come to finish the job?


    It was with that question that the air around us subtly changed. The man in red was far too professional to show any outward sign of tension, but the mess of bodyguards and personal attendants were not. Hands crept towards swords, mouths tightened, and the air in the room grew thick and heavy with mounting anticipation.This chapter is updated by


    It occurred to me briefly that I could easily die there. Guemon was clearly misinformed, but his deathly condition changed the dynamic entirely. I wouldnt put it past the pudgy man to take me down with him out of spite.


    I was not afraid. Perhaps, one day, my fear of death would return. But I still felt strangely detached. There was no fear. Only anger. And the strange, woeful, emancipating desire to light any fuse, apathetic of the powder keg.


    The man in red moved ever so slightly, and I locked eyes with him. I raised a fist upward, then splayed them out in a gesture for an explosion, giving him a wicked smile. My message was clear. I would not make this easy, if it went that way. And maybe, just maybe, Id take him with me. It was more recklessness than confidence, but the man stirred, looking uncomfortable for the first time.


    I ignored him, turning to Guemon. Id say Im sorry to see you so tragically diminished, counselor. I stared at him. But Id be lying.


    His chuckles were weak, rattling noises that faded into coughs. Showing your true colors, I see.


    I looked over towards the man in red. With all your grandstanding and dithering at the trial I thought youd at least be consistent enough to never hire a human into your employ. So dont talk to me about true colors, when you cant even stick with your small-minded ideals.


    Show me the respect I deserve! He snapped.


    Return my dagger, and I will.


    The room grew dangerously tense. It was not beyond me that I was antagonizing the situation, but it was not a pointless effort. At the trial, Guemon had been relatively easy to unhinge. I was just several deaths passed being coy about it.


    All at once, the rage drained out of his clouded eyes. He sagged, then indicated the chair set out at the foot of his bed.


    The man in the red moved with me simultaneously, staying parallel. His movements were practiced and easy. It dawned on me why. Despite being nearly three feet away, he was staying within the range he was confident he could kill me in, before I killed Guemon.


    Mentally forcing myself to ratchet down the hostility, I took a seat.


    Just say something nice.


    I pointed to the amoeba on his face. That looks unpleasant.


    Guemon snorted. In theory, its supposed to purify and enrich the air. In practice, its like breathing through a wet towel, if the towel was constantly trying to fuck you in the throat. Somewhat apropos to his words, every time he breathed in, a portion of the ooze was sucked inwards.


    Unpleasant indeed.


    What happened? I asked.


    Poison. A particularly nasty poison, fashioned from Garrote Cap. He glared at me. Exactly the sort spineless, shitheel, method youd be capable of.


    I blinked. Garrote caps were valuable due to their almost godlike palliative properties when it came to fighting poison. Lillian told me that the fact they were dangerous when used in high concentrations was only recently discovered. The discovery was made by a hapless, short-lived governor who was continuously poisoned by his enemies. He eventually died from taking the powdered caps with every meal. Using them to kill was not only inefficient, it was borderline wasteful and morally dubious, even for poison.


    Guemon shook his head when I conveyed this. Hugo found a patch of them in a side cavern near you and that red apothecary forage for ingredients. And I have it on good authority that youre more than competent enough to make such a thing.


    I parsed that, filing that particular tidbit of knowledge away for later. Access to the ingredients and know how? Sure. But Ive not been within spitting distance of you for months.


    His face clouded, as if he was deciding how much stock to put into my words. There was one window of time we crossed paths, and the assassination attempt occurred within that window.


    When?


    A few weeks ago, I met Ralakos for a meeting at his estate. There was wine involved, and a few hours later, I started pissing blood. Guemon said, and suddenly, I remembered. Ralakos had shooed me away, half-joking that my mortal enemy would be arriving soon, and I should make myself scarce. All at once, his theory seemed much more credible.


    I broke his grip, tried to wiggle out.


    He managed to snake around me and get his arm around my neck, his other arm pressing my throat into it, cutting off the blood flow.


    Please stop He said.


    But I was no longer there.


    I was back in the cave. The asmodials crowded around me. A leather strap tightened around my neck slowly, so slowly I wasnt even sure it was more than my imagination until the vein in my forehead started to pound as my heart picked up, struggling against the bond. My hands and my feet were tied.


    Still, the strap tightened. My eyes began to bulge. I held out a shaking hand, calling the air to me, trying to force it into my lungs. Theyd removed the manacles that prevented me from summoning. My success was diminutive. The air was too little, like a single raindrop to a man in a desert. Eventually, my eyes began to roll back in my head. My mind stretched like a rubber band.


    I remembered Mayas cool touch, her light fingers on the back of my neck. How theyd cleared my thoughts, my pain. She wasnt here, but in those moments right before I blacked out, I could almost feel her there, holding my hand, willing my mind not to snap entirely.


    Slowly, agony gave way to euphoria. A rush of emotion so pure and beautiful and light it nearly chased away the dark. Death was close. So very, very close. How I longed for it. Reached for it. In the darkness of the cave, the black beast reached back.


    Then the strap would loosen. A lipless asmodial with a tattered blindfold and a face with the texture of a backwater road drove his fist into my gut.


    They left me there, gagging for air, trying to reach for it though it would not come, straddling the gap between life and unconsciousness.


    Only when I was a few moments from finally regaining my breath, would the strap begin to tighten again.


    The look on my face must have amused them. Because they laughed. Oh, how they laughed. The arch-fiend watched from across the room, disinterested. Theyd long since stopped asking me questions. When they did, they were brief. It finally dawned on me that the asmodials didnt expect me to tell them anything.


    They didnt care.


    They smiled and snarled in the dark as I began to choke once more, their teeth gleaming white in the shadow.


    Cairn. Breathe deeply. Follow the sound of my voice. The things youre seeing are not real. Theyre just echoes. A mans voice cut through the horrible images.


    Someone was waving something in front of my face to fan me. I was drenched in sweat. I blinked the tears away, not knowing whether this was actually happening or another memory.


    To my shock, Erdos was tending to me. His stern face was twisted in uncharacteristic concern. He fanned me gently, and raised a canteen to my lips.


    The things that happened before you came here. His wording was carefully vague. That was the first time you saw violence, wasnt it?


    I couldnt bring myself to answer.


    Its like this, sometimes. Ive seen it before Erdos dabbed at my forehead with a cloth. Some men come out of violence seemingly unscathed. Then weeks, even months later, the savagery of it all hits them. They start jumping at ghosts. Sometimes they break down. He watched me knowingly.


    How do I stop it? I could still feel the leather tightening, ever so slowly.


    You take care of yourself. You stop blaming yourself for everything.


    I met his eyes for the first time then, shocked at the accuracy of his words.


    He stepped away from me, giving me space. Thinking that way is a trap. A soldier cant take responsibility for everything. The things youve done, the things done to you. Trying to account for them all leads only to madness.


    Then what should I do?


    Erdos face was soft, and for the first time I could see the resemblance between him and Bellarex. Its a choice. One youll need to make every day. You look the past in the face, and accept it for what it is. Then move forward.


    I tried to take his words to heart. But the simple fact was, his concept of moving forward and mine were very different.

 Chapter 65: Enclave XXXV

    Chapter 65: Enclave XXXV


    I wanted one the moment he mentioned it and peppered him with questions. Id never heard of them before because they were extremely niche. All but the most expensive globes were limited to a handful of seconds, though they could be overwritten. And of course, most importantly, despite rumors that powerful demons steal memories from a memory globe, this was largely believed to be mythruining my hopes of using that to get around the written and verbal restrictions of the loop. Despite living in the enclave over a year, it surprised me that Id never heard of such a thing.


    I apologized to Jorra for the way Id treated him. He apologized for, and I quote, choking the asshole out of me. There was still an air of awkwardness between us, the sort that always follows after friends who have just fought, but he followed me to the surface caves to practice, ribbing me good-naturedly about how it wasnt fair that Id hidden my second awakening. In truth, I forgot that he wasnt aware of it in this reset. It reminded me that I needed to be careful. Relieving similar events meant it was easy for things to bleed, and if I did something out of continuity to the wrong person it could easily cost me a reset.


    We practiced for hours.


    The lack of sleep and endless midnight sessions had begun to pay off. My air magic was now on the level of a red infernals. I was able to exude enough air mana to weave spells consistently, though it still cost me far more than it should have.


    I chalked that up to the still healing inscription limiting my regeneration. It felt almost parasiticor rather, like a constant leak that mana escaped from every time I casted. It bothered me that my power was still a shallow vestige of what Id managed the night of the attack. Id been able to lift two demons simultaneously and throw them with enough force to break through a shallow wall. Now, I could barely lift a small glass bottle


    I glared at it fiercely, hoping it would relent. What was the point of all this work if I couldnt do something as simple as lift a tincture. An empty one at that. It floated on a cushion of air, wobbling back and forth like a ship in a storm. I knew that, realistically, my power would not develop enough to be a deciding factor on its own within the current loop.


    Well, it could have, potentially. If I took the Great Black Beasts advice to stop caring about those around me, and was willing to just run the loop repeatedly and allow the enclave to be overrun, doing nothing but focusing on my magic, maybe it would have been possible within a few cumulative years.


    But I didnt have the stomach for doing that without knowing for certain that there wasnt an invisible countdown somewhere I was expending every time I died.


    So, if brute forcing it wasnt an option, I needed to get creative. What Id managed in Mifrals estate was significant, but very limited in how it restricted me to powders. Most alchemy required a liquid base and some sort of catalyst. If I could lift the tincture itself that would solve both my problems. But of course, my precise control wasnt that good yet.


    Jorra waved his arms at me excitedly, crouching at the edge of the mineral pool. I gave up on the air magic for the moment and walked over to him. He pointed excitedly at a small patch of ice on the lake. My eyebrows shot up. That had never happened before, even after the heist. At first, it almost seems random, puzzling me. Then I thought about it. Wed been working on precision control a lot this reset. Maybe Jorra was more likely to break through if I pushed him to work on the small, more minute elements of his magic, versus the bigbut ultimately dumbdisplays of magic he was typically prone to.


    Id need to keep it in mind.


    Eventually, Jorra got bored and returned to the house. I poured over a few different texts, struggling to translate the demonic. My demonic was slowly getting more competent.


    There was an element to all this Id previously completely ignored. I knew a lot about the asmodials. They were warmongering, violent, and ultimately sadists with secondary talents for information gathering. I knew their hierarchies were relatively simple: lesser, greater, and arch-fiendthe arch-fiends themselves being relatively rare, never exceeding thirteen but often far less. At the top of the hierarchy was the prime evils, monsters so elusive they were seen once a century.


    Or maybe, Id spent enough time in the presence of beings that wanted me dead, people and monsters alike, to develop a sense for it.


    I spun, and before I could get the sword out of my sheathe a man in a dark hood tackled me into the shallow pool, immediately soaking us both. With one red hand, he pressed me down into the water, and with the other he held a simple black iron dagger.


    In the precious few seconds before I hit the bottom of the pool, it flashed through my mind how bad the situation was. The assassin had been watching for some time. He had waited for Jorra to leave and for me to fully expend my mana, and then struck.


    He outweighed me by probably fifty pounds. In my panic, Id grabbed onto the blade with both hands. White hot pain sliced through my fingers as the tip of the knife entered my chest excruciatingly slowly.


    I released a hand, called the spark and pressed it to the gauntlet of the arm that pinned me. It fizzled out. My eyes widened, and I nearly breathed out my remaining air in surprise. Rosewater.


    A halo of black began to grow around my vision. I tried again, this time holding the spark to his exposed hands. The fire took root. He shrieked and swore, tearing the knife away. I felt a sickening, tearing sensation and saw the pinkie and ring finger of my left hand floating away.


    A burst of anger escaped from me. My body had only just been restored, and now this.


    My assailant was struggling to smother the fire whendisoriented and waterloggedI managed to crawl to him, closing the distance between us and put my dagger through his leather boot and twisted it savagely, opening a hole. Then I set the blade of the dagger alight. The fire danced down the dagger to the flesh beneath, and the hole was wide enough that the rose water soaked armor could not prevent it from burning from the inside out.


    The infernal screamed, and swatted me away with a panicked backhand that made my teeth hurt.


    He jumped around and grabbed at the boot. If hed retained the capacity to think, he likely would have realized that all he really had to do was leave the boot on and smother the gouged hole. Demon fire spread quickly, but it still required a decent amount of air to do so. Instead, he did what was possibly the worst thing he could have done. He took the boot off.


    The fire spread up his leg. I reached out with my ruined hand and my vision grayed as I coaxed the flame. The result was horrifying. His leg served as an ignition point to the rest of his body, which burned much more slowly due to the treated armor.


    He fell to the ground and writhed. I struggled to my feet and walked over to him, clutching my robe against my bleeding wound. Some part of my mind considered lowering the fire to a minuscule amount and questioning him, but the idea brought litany of painful images to the forefront of my mind and made me ill.


    Thankfully, I didnt have to ask him anything. His cowl had fallen backward and the answer was written all over his face, even as he moaned over his ruined leg.


    Shear had tried to kill me.

 Chapter 66: Enclave XXXVI

    Chapter 66: Enclave XXXVI


    I had precious little time to think on that, staring down at Shears body, as my vision began to swim. My stomach flipped, and suddenly all I wanted to do was sit down. My breath came in tight little shallow pulls that never filled my lungs.


    My heartbeat was irregular.


    Poison.


    I flailed around in the pool to look for the dagger. When I found it, it was obvious that the water had washed away the scent of whatever substance coated it, preventing me from identifying it. With renewed panic, I staggered over to my bag and dumped it open. I didnt have much in terms of medical supplies, and certainly not a wide suite of anything to stop poison. However I did have basic first aid supplies, including a stick to make a tourniquet.


    I yanked my belt off and wrapped it around my shoulder, then hesitated.


    Never put a tourniquet on a snake bite. Lillians voice. It isolates the venom to one area and makes it much more destructive than if its allowed to spread throughout the body. You might lose the use of that limb altogether.


    That was true of snakes, yes. But this was poison from an assassin, engineered to kill. I looked down at my missing fingers. It was spreading up my left arm, closest to my heart.


    No choice. I had to try and stop the flow. As quickly as possible, I tightened my belt around my arm and screamed. A dull fog of pain began to move in, scrambling my thoughts.


    I mentally calculated the distance to Casikass apothecary. It was too far. With the way I felt now, Id never make it in time. The more flourished section of the caves where Casikas and I gathered ingredients from was a quarter mile from here, maybe less. If Guemon was correct, I could find Garrote Cap there fairly easily.


    Of course, that in and of itself was a risk. Because if theyd used the same poison on me as they had on Guemon, more garrote cap would simply kill me faster.


    It was impossible to know for sure. I simply didnt know as much about the symptoms of poisons as I did about general palliatives and medicines. It was a risk I had to take. Id accepted the inevitability of dying, expected it, honestly, but Id be damned if I let anyone decide it for me. I needed to know why Persephone had tried to kill me. Dying now would scuttle that knowledge, or force me to retrace my steps exactly to obtain it.


    On my way out of the cave, I passed a body. An infernal wearing Ralakoss blue. I remembered what hed said about having me followed. Apparently, there was truth to that.


    It took nearly an hour of searching to find the garrote caps, and in the end, I wasnt truly sure Id found them. The smelled right and looked right, but my vision was blurred and I was so disoriented that they could have just as easily been simple toadstools. I grabbed a handful and shoved them into my mouth, the flat and earthy taste unpleasant. Then I laid back and waited, releasing the belt on my arm. My arm, which had swollen significantly and began to throb, vibrated with pins and needles as the feeling slowly returned.


    I laid on my back and waited for death. Or life. Whichever came first. My heart began to pump at a normal rhythm, and the nausea in my gut quelled. I found myself breathing a sigh of relief. The poison used on me and the poison used on Guemon was different after all. I took note of the Garrote caps. About half of them had been harvested, but there was still a great number here, more than enough to raise a small fortune. But gold was the least of my worries.


    I trekked my way back to the surface caves, where I found Shear dead. Hed turned on his stomach and tried to crawl away, only making it a few feet.


    It would be less embarrassing to say that my manner of checking for signs of lifekicking him repeatedly in the facewas only intended to do just that, but the truth was I had a lot of anger with nowhere to put it.


    I was tired of being ambushed, and cut open, and having pieces of me sliced off.


    Briefly, I considered fishing around in the pool for my missing fingers but discarded the notion. That would take too long, and there was a chance Shear had backup that might look into his disappearance if he took too long to check in.


    I took the long way out of the surface caves towards the enclave, just in case any other would-be assassins were lying in wait.


    I arrived at Ralakoss estate, my anger still not fully expended by the exhaustion I felt. I gave him the shortest, most straightforward explanation of what had happened to me. One of Persephones men had attacked me at the pools. I killed him, but barely.


    Kilvius froze.


    I continued. I know you have some sort of history with her, though I dont know the details.


    How could you possibly Kilvius started, then trailed off. Ah. The visions.


    Correct. The reason I called for just you, is I have a feeling that discussing that history with Nethtari here would be more than a little uncomfortable for both of you.


    He gave me a flat look. Very accurate, for a feeling.


    I shrugged.


    Kilvius sighed and launched into the story.


    He was born an orphan. Crime in the Enclave forty years ago was much worse as the council was largely corrupt, so it was only natural for infernals like himwhich I inferred to mean poor with little magic to speak ofto fall in with the wrong crowd. Still, Kilvius took to it more quickly than most. He was a natural born thief and burglar, talented at getting into and out of houses and stores in the wealthier sections of the enclave beyond the crevasse.


    The orphans of the enclave had a simple rule, one that was rarely broken. They never stole from each other. This uneasy truce allowed them to cluster together in various hideouts and rooftopsusing safety in numbers to mitigate the many horrible things that could happen to an orphan within the bounds of a city as large as the enclave.


    There was an exception to this rule, Kilvius noted, his lips thin. Persephone. Her demonic traits were notable even then, though not as pronounced as they once were. She was relentlessly targeted by the other orphans. Over and over, her possessions were stolen from her. Kilvius felt bad for her, but what could he have possibly done?


    Still, the fact remained that Persephone was forced to work harder than the other children. Exponentially so. He once watched her steal into a house hed been casing and clear it out in minutes. Her skills as a thief eclipsed his easily.


    As Kilvius grew older, into his early teens, he began to protect Persephone from the other children. His view of right and wrong were warped of course, due to his upbringing, but the way she was targeted bothered him. His efforts isolated him from the other children, and before he knew it, the two of them were a mated pair. Persephone was his first love, and as such, had a talent for fogging his judgement. She used him as both a partner in crime and an enforcer, constantly pushing the boundaries to lay the foundations of what would one day become her empire.


    Then his luck ran out. He was caught in the middle of a robbery he had argued against, the theft of a powerful counselors magical artifacts, and was looking at an execution.


    Then he met Nethtari. She was a new solicitor then, though she worked much in the same capacity she worked now. As a civil servant for those who could not afford one. Nethtari brought him out of the darkness in more ways than one. He had learned to see violets as nothing more than walking meal-tickets, but Nethtari was different from the start.


    Persephone never once came to visit him.


    There were many attempts to bribe Nethtari, but none of them succeeded. He noted, grimly, that he very much doubted shed be working the same job to this day if shed just gone along with what the council had wanted.


    Instead of being executed, he was imprisoned for a year. Even Nethtari seemed surprised by the result.


    She kept up with him. Eventually, her feelings for him turned into more. They married.


    Kilvius saw Persephone about a year after that, randomly, in the market. Though wearing a veil and fine silks, he would have recognized her gait anywhere.


    And in her arms was a small, sleeping child.

 Chapter 67: Enclave XXXVII

    Chapter 67: Enclave XXXVII


    In light of the recently revealed situation, I had asked Ralakos a number of questions and received a number of revealing answers, though what they all pointed to I could not yet be certain.


    Folk with demon-blood were exceedingly rare and almost always barren. The infernals had spun off from demons so long ago that they were no longer biologically compatible, and even if they were, most infernals would not consider such a union due to the morality of such a thing. It was really only a half-step from bestiality in their eyes.


    Persephones actual heritage was unknown, beyond the fact that she was half-asmodial. Whoever had abandoned her originally had never bothered to claim her.


    The last answer was by far the most puzzling. There was no record of Persephone ever having a child. The bureaucracy of the Enclave wasnt overly strict in terms of census gatheringbut violet children were the exception. Because of the higher level of power, higher potential, and likewise possible higher threat, violet infernal children were tested at birth, and their possible elemental affinities logged.


    Ralakos had tripled down on the security. Though he still presented the same steady, controlled manner as usual, I could tell the fact that I was brutally attacked so close to the Enclave bothered him.


    The vivid pain in my hand lessened to a dull throb. I had no doubt it would return the moment I took it out of the ice, but for now, it was a welcome respite. I needed to push the memory from my mind. Every time I thought about it, my anger surged, and anger was the last thing I needed right now was to lose my temper. I needed to focus less on what had happened to me, and more on why it had happened at all.


    But it was too personal.


    What I needed was a change of perspective. So, much as I had before, I created a character for myself to inhabit. Only this time, it wasnt an elven manservant. It was me. A crueler, more vicious version of me who didnt care what Persephone had done, only that she had failed to do it, thus creating an opening.


    I did my best to ignore the fact that the part I was playing was very close to the person father always wanted me to be.


    With detached eyes, I watched through an illusory image Ralakos had summoned, as Ralakoss men marched Persephone into the interview room. Shed agreed to accompany them without struggle. She carried herself with an easy confidence that approached smug. Like she already knew what the end result would be.


    Erdos entered the room and began to question her. It was civilized compared to the sort of interviews my father conducted, and much more civilized than everything Id recently endured.


    And what were you doing this morning? Erdos asked. He sat straight upright, his posture stiff, his tone cold.


    Inventory. We had a shortage of northern reds. The local lushes have really been digging into our stockpile. Persephone smiled at Erdos coyly. He didnt react, but there was the beginning of a flush around his neck.


    And there people who Erdos paused. Persephone was tapping her fingers on the table in an indecipherable pattern, her nails clicking loudly. There are people who can corroborate this?


    Of course. Why dont you tell me what this is about? Persephone pressed. She was trying to take control of the discussion away from Erdos. The loud tapping, the needling, the answering of questions with questions, all basic countermeasures to throw the interrogator off his game.


    Erdos scowled at her. Im surprised you dont already know. You have a certain reputation for being informed.


    Please, Captain. Let''s not play coy. You hardly need a network to catch wind of a diplomatic guest limping bloody through the streets. What I cant possibly pin down, however, is how the events of this morning have anything to do with me?


    Paranoia whispered to me. Surely Erdos wasnt this incompetent.


    What Im saying is... He paused again, glaring as Persephone scratched lightly at the wood of the table, leaving faint white marks.


    I leaned towards Ralakos. This is getting us nowhere.


    Erdos is a professional, Ralakos said, But Persephone is experienced. It will not be a quick process.


    I watched the proceedings quietly. Erdos deserved slightly more credit than I had given him. Even though Persephone appeared to be getting under his skin at points, he had this plodding manner of restating the same question, over and over.


    But Persephone was carved from stone. During the negotiation at the mining site, shed been almost manic, almost pushing Mifral into Ephiras hands. I found myself pondering what would have happened if the demons hadnt attacked at all. How would the rest of the negotiation played out? Who would have ended up with the scepter? Why was Persephone so much more panicked then, in the negotiation for a material object, compared to now, when she was implicated in the assassination attempt on a prince.


    Unless she wasnt actually panicked.


    Why had Persephone tried to kill me?


    A horrible theory began to form.


    One by one, the pieces slid into place. It wasnt all there yet, but it was only a matter of time.


    ----


    I demanded that everyone leave us. Ralakos argued, at first, but I think he picked up from my body language that I would not be swayed. I didnt even have to threaten him. His one condition was that Erdos was left behind to monitor the situation, which I agreed to, as long as he wasnt listening in.


    Ive lived this life before. She blanked. I asked again. Why did you try to have me killed


    I... I didnt Persephone stammered. She was looking around at the walls, studying the wards that limited magic, trying to ascertain how what was happening to her was even possible.


    You tried to screw me in my last life as well. Why did you try to have me killed?


    Persephone fell silent. I hammered at her for twenty minutes, playing with her perception of time. Eventually, a simple fact became evident. She would not break, no matter how disoriented she was. Persephone was too smart for that.


    It was time to get mean.


    How old is he, now? I asked.


    She squinted at me. Who?


    Your boy.


    There was no visible reaction, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop.


    Hes gotta be getting up there. I continued. Almost too old for the sanctum. And, just curious, are you sure hes not Kilviuss son? Or did you just say that because you wanted him out of the picture? Since you threw him away once he was no longer useful to you.


    You have no idea what youre talking about, Persephone spat.


    Maybe not. I settled back into my chair. But I have all the time in the world for trial and error, and you really, really, dont.


    Her mouth moved. There it was. The slightest twinkle of smugness. The slightest glimmer of self-satisfaction in how wrong I was. That I did not, in fact, have all the time in the world.


    The self-satisfaction blossomed into a wide smile. For the record, this is all clearly fantasy born from a desperate mind. But even if I wasnt, youd really do something like that? Threaten a child to get to me? Cant imagine Ralakos would approve.


    I hated myself for what I said next. But I was running out of time and options. So I fell into the cruel facsimile of myself. The one that didnt agonize over ethics or morals, of right or wrong.


    I dont have to threaten anyone, I said. All I have to do is keep you here.


    The blood drained from her face.


    She knew.


    And meanwhile, Ill have Guemons security look for your son. Itll take some time, but hes a high councillor with a lot of reach. Ill spin him some story about your son being abducted and that you''re refusing to talk about our botched assassinationsyes, Ill be blaming that on you too, really shouldnt have used poison for bothuntil your son is here.


    Wait.


    But I wasnt done. We wont rest, until hes safe and sound within the Enclave before the end of the month.


    It wasnt lost on me. The horror of what Id done. It didnt matter that I wasnt putting a sword to an innocents neck directly. I knew where the knife would fall, and I was almost glibly threatening to move an innocent in its path.


    What would my mother have thought?


    Persephone trembled. She opened her mouth, and for a moment, I was terrified she might spill everything right there. Instead, she asked me.


    What do you want to know?


    I leaned in to whisper in her ear.


    When I pulled back, her expression had changed completely. It was cold and stoic. She nodded once, confirming my suspicions.


    Then, in great excruciating detail, Persephone began to weave the tale of how Ralakos had betrayed me.


    This was, of course, all inherently false.

 Chapter 68: Enclave XXXVIII

    Chapter 68: Enclave XXXVIII


    I had it all figured out.


    Gods.


    How long had it been since I could say that?


    There were a few inconsistencies left, a few things that didnt quite mesh, but I felt such palpable relief at the idea of the end of the road being in sight that I couldnt bring myself to ponder them.


    I held out a hand towards the chasm, fingers reaching out into the dark.


    My friend. The first real friend Id made in such a long time. She was down there. Time would finally begin to move forward again, and I would finally, finally be able to see her.


    Maya.


    I didnt blame her for telling the wrong person. In many ways, that it was divulged at all might have saved my life in more ways than one. The fact that the enemy knew my ability likely caused them no end of logistical problems in getting rid of me, made the whole thing much more difficult and complex, required them to remove themselves from the picture entirely.


    My chest tightened, and I forced myself to breathe. It was almost over. I just had to stay strong for a little longer. A memory nipped at my consciousness and my back and my arms flared uncomfortably, hot and itchy.


    I pulled the aquamarine memory orb from my chest pocket and focused mana into it, feeling a dull suck on my forehead as the memory was copied. Id taken Erdoss advice. Viewing the more traumatic memories without relieving them helped me fight down the episodes.


    I saw Ozra, vigilant in the background as a shadowy demon held a scalding brand against my cheek. There was no sound, only images.


    It wasnt that bad, I told myself. Just a couple of burns. Theyd done far, far worse before that nightmare was over. Then I found my mind drifting to those worse things, and closed my eyes, trying to prevent the downward spiral that would lead to.


    You are lucky. I said it to myself, over and over. You are lucky.


    I would not let the things that happened to me change who I was.


    My fist holding the memory orb slammed against the metal of the bench with a loud clang. Passing faces turned to look my way, then hurried along on theirs.


    I was close now. So close.


    There was no point in lying to myself. Things were going to get worse before they got better. But if I did it all perfectly, timed it all perfectly, this would finally be over soon, if not this time, in one more reset.


    Just one more.


    Drying the sudden moisture that dampened my gaze, I stood. There would be time for rest soon.


    I went home. Ralakos had posted additional guards, and I was surprised to see a small group of Guemons green. Ralakos must have talked to him. I hugged Kilvius and Nethtari. They were relieved, I think. The way Id been acting lately, I probably seemed like an entirely different person.


    For the first time in over two months, I volunteered to put Agarin to bed and told him a story. He giggled and cooed as the fairy cleverly outwitted Sir Gantry, and this time, he did not fall asleep until the end.


    ----


    I sent a runner with an official invocation to Ephira the following morning, stating urgent matters. It was something I hadnt done since we hammered out our first deal in the early days of removing the blockade.


    Bemusedly, I compared that meetingwhich had been all cookies and teawith the rather unsettling meeting from the previous restart. The woman knew how to treat her friends and her enemies, and I had to be one of the few people unlucky enough to have seen both sides.


    I wondered, almost blandly, which version of Ephira I would meet.


    The summons went unrecognized for a few days. I spent them relaxing and studying magic. My left hand was mostly bandaged and immobile, so I hadnt faced the reality of the loss yet. There was a tranquility to those days that was native to my earlier time in the Enclave, a time Id nearly forgotten.


    I studied the asmodials in greater detail, learning as much about the hierarchy and culture as I could stomach.


    The arch-fiends of a given legion were fiercely territorial amongst themselves. But rarely, a leader would emerge, one capable of aligning the infighting warlords towards a greater goal. This was almost always preceded a major uprising, not unlike the one stirring within the Enclave.


    Gods, that was a close thing.


    If Ralakos hadnt recognized me, hadnt tipped his hand, this whole thing might have gone very differently.


    But he did.


    That stumped me.


    I ran through that scene a dozen times. Persephone, torn to pieces. Mifral, cut in half. Ralakos captured, and you your throat cut. Compared to the way the asmodials kill, something Ive witnessed first-hand dozens of times at this point, your death was almost civilized.


    Only, your throat was cut. The blood should have been bright red, arterial. Not dark.


    Nothing really came into focus beyond vague suspicions until I confirmed the missing piece with Nethtari: Maya. Maya went to you to beg for a method of saving my lifethough Im still foggy on the particulars of that conversationand knowing that, it all clicked. She told you then, I think. She told you that I had visions, that I could see the future. That I was worth saving.


    And that changed everything.


    You had to be careful, Ephira. You had to make sure that my killing couldnt be tied to you even from the grave. In fact, you had to go out of your way to mislead me, keep me tied up in circles chasing dead-ends until the timer ran out. First Guemon, then Ralakos, then Persephone.


    Gods, you really did plan for every contingency.


    But you made a mistake. You couldnt control Guemon, and he pushed far too hard at the trial. That tipped off Ralakos, who had men following me for my protection from that day onward. I suspect, without that misstep, it would have been much easier to kill me earlier on. I think that''s why you had Erdos poison him. I''ve done some research in the interim. It''s desperately tricky to poison someone with garrote cap. The slightest miscalculation in dose and you get an organ shredder instead. You didn''t want him dead. You wanted him angry and scared of me, cornered and conveniently out of the way


    In a classic mistake for a despot, you were prepared for everything but basic decency. Erdos was supposed to make sure I died during the ambush. But I saved his men trapped under the ice, after you sent them to die. With that, and the realization youd set them all up, Erdos chose to save me.


    And Persephone. I dont know all the sordid history between the two of you, but I know enough from what I saw in the mining facility to know Persephones hate for you is not an act. I knew you had to have something on her, something big, to use her to get in touch with the asmodials and get Mifral to surrender the scepter in time to use it for the attack.


    My guess? You threatened to expose her son.


    Im not sure why she wanted him hidden, but she did. And as soon as he was threatened she folded. A hardened duchess of the underworld, undone by the love of her child. Then she told the story I asked her to tell:


    The story you tried so desperately to make me believe.


    The story of how Ralakos had turned on me.


    Erdos listened in, as I expected he would. Then Ralakoss spies confirmed he took the story straight to you that very night.


    And that brings us here. You, welcoming me into a neutral location, with open arms, alone, and practically unguarded. And I know almost everything. The only question left, is why?


    I stopped, feeling spent, almost dizzy. Ephiras eyes unclouded, and she stared at me in momentary confusion.


    Im sorry, I lost my train of thought, Ephira said.


    You were telling me about the tea, I said.


    Ah, right. She held it to her lips and took a long pull.


    I drank from mine. There were no delusions. This wasnt over. It was probably too late to stop the attack. But Id learned to revel in the little victories, the small things.


    And as Ralakoss men rushed in, pressed her down against the table and threw the manacles on; as she struggled, and shouted, and tried and failed to summon, I found myself smiling. Ephira was right.


    The tea was exemplary.


    ----


    AN: This has been a long time coming and there''s still more to reveal. Be careful not to spoil your fellow readers on RR and lower tiers :).

 Chapter 69: Enclave XXXIX

    Chapter 69: Enclave XXXIX


    My fathers voice was uncharacteristically unsteady. This does not have to come to bloodshed, Thane Granmire. Your folk are up against heavy infantry and calvary.


    The dwarf, clad in silver-black armor, swung his sword at my fathers head. It came nowhere close, missing by a good five feet. My horse huffed nervously beneath me and took a step backward. It had taken me by surprise the first time it happened, but this was the fourth. The dwarves seemed to have a tendency to speak with their weapons, using swings of blades to punctuate points or refute statements.


    Up yers, Gil. Weve had enough of yer levies. Another skyward swing of the blade. It was almost like the dwarf was painting, his sword the brush. The excavation sites have been sparse enough this year without yer nonsense. Demandin a flat amount instead of a percentage? What a load of tripe.


    Weve been down this road before, Granmire. My fathers brow furrowed. The moment the tax is a percentage, your yields always seem to shrink, as if the gems themselves are sprouting legs and running away from you.


    And now yer calling me a liar? The dwarf glared. What more should I expect from the Oath-Bane?


    I cringed. Actually, physically shrunk down, the weight of my armor clinking around me, awaiting the inevitable explosion of violence. No one called my father that to his face. No one wise called him that at all, for fear that, no matter how far he was, the wind itself might carry the words to him.


    But my father did not reach for his sword. He didnt even blink.


    Very well. If it is such a difficult thing for you to pay what you owe, perhaps we shall collect your obligation another way. Increased taxes on the merchants that frequent your cities and perhaps sanctions on the water brought up from the coast. King Gil smiled, and a hint of the wicked tyrant showed through.


    The dwarf sheathed his sword. There was an uncomfortable shuffling from his escort that seemed to indicate that negotiations were coming to a close.


    We have a fortified position, Granmire said. His voice was firm. Theres only one way out of this canyon, Oath-Bane. Youre locked in. Either see reason, or suffer the consequences.


    I should have felt panic, but I didnt. Id seen this sort of thing play out far too many times. No. There was only one way this ended.


    But how?


    Please reconsider.


    My helmet jostled against my breastplate as I wheeled around to look at him, flabbergasted.


    When was the last time father had said Please, to anyone?


    I dont think so. Granmire shook his head. Surrender.


    Thats not going to happen, Gil insisted.


    Then hells take you, and may the battlefield sing your requiem. Granmire turned and rode towards his war-camp, his mount some garish combination of pony and a full-grown horsemoving remarkably slow for full-speed.


    The beginning of alarm began to crawl up the back of my neck. Father? I asked. Hed never brought me to fight in an actual battle before, only demanded I watch.


    Silence. He said. His once calm voice had been entirely supplanted with a seething, simmering rage.


    I watched from a distance as our troops began to charge forward. There were less of us than there were of them. We had more men when we left Whitefall. Where were the rest?


    Then I watched, conflicted, as a huge cross-section of canyon wall on both sides came loose, the mass of earth and stone crumbling into organic projectiles that rained down on the enemys camp from both sides. In their wake they left a ramp, and my fathers men charged down from both sides, perfectly in sync with the group charging from the front.


    It was a devastating rout. Even as unexperienced as I was in war, it was painful to watch, but impossible to look away. The dwarves were scattered, sundered, and slain by the thousands.


    I was reminded, once again, of Inharion. Of the senseless violence. And for once, my anger exceeded my fear.


    Why? I asked him through gritted teeth.


    Why, what? Gil rumbled. He picked something out of his teeth and spit on the ground.


    I watched, from a rooftop. Like a coward. It had been Ralakoss idea, after seeing how stringently Ephira had stuck to her philosophy. I watched as the people I promised myself would protect died in an ocean of pointless violence, far above the crimson waves.


    I watched.


    I watched as Ralakos fought Ozra. The fight lasted minutes and leveled a church, before Ozra held Ralakoss dismembered head up from the rubble and smiled. It was a strangely civilized smile. The sort of better-luck-next-time expression one might give a companion after a friendly competition.


    Finally, a demon caught sight of me. It looked like the same one that had bisected me the first time. It scampered up the building.


    I pushed mana through the inscription on my chest, and everything went mercifully black.


    I told myself that the difference in time was significant.


    Thirty days, versus ten. With the knowledge from the prior resets, I managed to prevent Guemon from being poisoned and arrange Ephiras capture early on.


    I was more adamant, this time, about the civilians being evacuated. All of them. Most were. But Ralakos refused to abandon the Enclave, as did Guemon. It was their city, and they would die with it. I told them that yes, they would die. Ralakos just smiled at me and reminded me that if they were no longer here, no one would be left to protect the entrance to the Sanctum, and that would likely be the asmodials next target after the enclave was sacked.


    I pushed harder and harder to get stronger. My wind magic had come along significantly: I could now make projectiles half as strong as the demon-fire, and lift animals as large as a cat.


    I worked the magic as hard as I could, studying demonic and the demons themselves. I stopped sleeping. By the end of the month, my mild hallucinations had turned into full-blown fantasies. Id seen the asmodials attack three times before they actually did.


    The fight with Ozra laster longer than the first time, extending from two minutes to five. Guemon was a talented earth mage and was able to run interference for Ralakos, tearing up paved roads with massive chunks of earth lifted from below.


    But Guemon was slow, and the massive bear demon he summoned as Ozra flew towards him immediately cowered, leaving the violet infernal splattered across the ground from the impact alone. Not long after that, Ralakos fell in a dazzling light show.


    And I watched.


    Again


    And I watched.


    Again


    And I watched.


    Again


    The last time felt different. It was harder to come back. Like the great black beast had clung to me. I shouted at it, begged it for advice, for relief, for some small clue on how in the name of the gods and hells alike I was supposed to do something against that, that massive, black angel of a demon that felled men with a snap of his fingers.


    Again.


    I almost didnt make it back. It had been months since I slept. I no longer knew what day it was, other than the fact that it was the first day and that time had no meaning, I had no meaning, everything was a cycle of light and dark and again and blood spattering the pavement and again and it was too much the gods were dead and the devils roamed free and gods all I wanted was to drink and whore and go back to a time when none of this mattered and guilt was a thing that happened to other people but time didnt matter because change was an illusion and one person could never hope to change a single fucking thing because that was the world I lived in and gods were dead please make it stop


    Again.


    I slept. My mind just shut down.


    When I woke, I was in the surface caves.


    It came to me, as clearly and strongly as the morning bell. I held my hands to my head and laughed. I laughed until the laughter turned into screams and back to laughter again.


    The answer was right in front of me the whole time.

 Chapter 70: Enclave XL

    Chapter 70: Enclave XL


    I grabbed wads of my clothes and stuffed them into my rucksack, as well as the small box of gold I had left over


    Just leave.


    I could just go. That was who I was. Cairn the coward. Ran away from his own coronation and abandoned his sisters. Or at least would have, if the evil sadist from hell hadnt gotten in the way.


    None of this was my fucking problem, I hadnt asked for any of it, I hadnt signed up for any of this. Id tried to do a good thing, and then I got my nose cut off, and my teeth broken, and my eye gouged. But I kept going, and watched people that I had put over a year into my life into saving circle the drain, over and over. They were on their way out, anyway. Me being here made no difference.


    The world had reminded me what I was made of, and now it was time to throw up the white flag.


    And then I was out the door, sprinting down the main road towards the entrance portal, head down, mouth open, gasping for every breath.


    Any moment, someone would stop me. Cut me down where I stood. A demon leaping from a rooftop. Kastramoth, biting down on my arm from behind a tree. Barion, thrusting a rapier through my chest. Surely they wouldnt just let me leave. That thought hounded at me as the voices behind me growing more distant and fading until finally I pushed through the portal, the membrane pulling tight over my face, one last barrier.


    And then I was through.


    The air felt fresher, lighter.


    The sun had just fallen to its nadir, speckling orange rays of light through the dusk as twilight was born through the blades of browning grass.


    I walked through the field of endless grass, approaching the rippling mirage of the sun. The grass swirled and rounded me like a golden ocean.


    It was beautiful.


    I knew exactly where I was.


    But even in the darkest night in the Everwood, I had never felt so lost.


    I wandered for a mile or two. My vision clouded. The flickering orange lights coalesced in a sparkling Gaussian blur.


    I wiped my eyes.


    When I put my hand down, something was blocking out a portion of the sun, casting a silhouette the size a small person. A child. It was the little girl from the alleyonly she looked different now. Human instead of elven. Her once shaved head was laden with dirty blonde curls. Only her familiar eyes were the same.


    The hallucinations hadnt finished with me yet.


    She stood there and watched me. She had the face of someone who wanted to help, but didnt know how.


    The words poured out before I even realized I was talking. I remember thinking, a long time ago, that the gods picked the wrong person. But I had no idea how right I was. No idea at all.


    The little girl cocked her head. Why?


    Because Im a coward. Im not particularly strong. Nothing comes easy for me and at the end of the day, Ill always choose myself over anyone else.


    She tapped my forehead.


    Mayas face flashed into my head briefly. The image of me standing in front of her in the Everwood, flaming sword held in my hand.


    I looked


    Had I really looked like that?


    Another image. This time from when I fought tusk at the crossroads, drove my sword breaker into his gut, knowing it would likely get me killed, some part of me hoping it would.


    I looked so determined. So strong.


    Where was that strength, now?


    Another image, this time unprompted. I stood before a throng of people and casted my crown into the raging green fire.


    You know, I told her, My friend Jorra and I have been looking for a third for the Sanctum. We spar in the practice caves on the outskirts pretty regularly. You should swing by sometime.


    Bellarex kept her face neutral, but I watched in amusement as her tail began to swing from side to side excitedly. Ill uh. Maybe. Uh. Ill think about it.


    I hoped she did, even if I wasnt there to see it. It would give Jorra someone to bond with. To mitigate the loss.


    Enough of that.


    I turned to leave.


    Thanks for coming by! Bell almost squeaked.


    Goodbye Bell. I waved.


    The streets became narrower as I entered the wealthier residential district. Guemon opened the door. His momentary surprise lapsed into a scowl.


    The hells do you want?


    I held my hands up peacefully, then handed him a basket of assorted confections I picked up from the local bakery. The man was as sour as a winter lemon but hed grown on me. He wasnt the strongest magician, but never once had he shied from death, protecting Ralakos until the end every time.


    He looked at the basket suspiciously. I feel like this is a very diplomatic way of calling me fat.


    Can I come in? I asked.


    Fine.


    I walked him through a vague outline of the particulars. I intended to do something dangerous, something I might not come back from. As I spoke, his expression grew more and more befuddled. What Id given him were a series of letters, dated and stamped to be sent from various locations pathing away from the Enclave.


    I couldnt be sure my father would buy it, but it was the best I could do.


    And youre giving these to me. Guemon stared at me as if I was daft.


    Yes. I said.


    After everything I said at the trial.


    Yes.


    He looked between the letters and me half a dozen times. Okay, no. I have to ask. Why the fuck would you give me these? Is this bait? Some kind of mind game?


    I smiled. No. Youre the security expert. I trust you to do whats best for the Enclave.


    Guemon leafed through the letters, muttering the names of towns along the routes I had chosen. He eventually came to the last three, sent at the end of the line. What are these?


    I scratched my neck awkwardly. Letters. To my mother and sisters. Ive been afraid to write to them. I dont know why.


    The truth was, I was afraid. As soon as I wrote to them, it meant I had accepted the reality that they were no longer dead. That they were alive and waiting for me in Whitefall. That they might write back. And that when they did, my resolve would weaken, and I would give up and go home, all for the chance of seeing them again.


    Guemons face softened, though only slightly. He rubbed his forehead. I feel like I missed something.


    Nothing important. Enjoy basket.


    I will. He said absentmindedly, then sharply looked up. Wait, no, I wont


    The door shut behind methough not fast enough to muffle Guemons shouted obscenities.


    If I failed, and the infernals somehow survived the attack, the last thing I wanted was my father swinging through to sunder the pieces. Guemon would see to that, at least.


    I walked through the Thulian district. It was much less inviting during the day, the buildings washed out and awkward in the auric sun, as if the establishments were as hung over as the people who drunkenly shuffled out of them.


    Feet sore from walking, I arrived at my final destination, the Glistening Gate, and asked for Persephone.

 Chapter 71: Enclave XLI

    Chapter 71: Enclave XLI


    Kilvius and Nethtari arrived first, Kilvius in a ceremonial robethe most dressed up Id ever seen him, and Nethtari in a modest white dress. She leaned against him and laughed as Casikas regaled them with exaggerated stories of failed experiments.


    Ralakos, ever the gracious host, circled the room, ensuring everyone had enough to drink. From the corner of my eye, I saw Erdos watching us, a puzzled look on his face.


    One of Ralakoss butlers was managing Agarin, slightly flustered with the hyperactive child.


    Jorra chased one of Ralakoss nephews around the furniture, nearly tripping over the unfamiliar fancy robe.


    Nethtari snorted at something Kilvius whispered in her ear, then held a hand to her face in embarrassment.


    I drank, perhaps more than was wise, but less than was needed.


    I smacked Jorra on the back of the head as he passed, and sidled up next to Nethtari and Kilvius.


    Have a good time?


    Yes, thank you. Its been too long since we all got out of the house. Nethtaris monotone voice had a slightly drunken lilt.


    Kilvius rubbed his wifes shoulder affectionately. This ones been working too hard.


    I always work too hard.


    My point stands.


    As always when it came to foodRalakos had gone above and beyond. There was raw fish served on eel-paper, various spicy delicacies, and a desert carousel. Jorra picked at the food constantly until Nethtari pushed him away.


    Once everyone had eaten, I stood and clapped my hands.


    Bard! I clapped my hands. The infernal scampered down from the podium to my side.


    Yes, my lord?


    I smiled at him and held my glass high. I require accompaniment.


    Are there chords you prefer? He asked.


    Something upbeat.


    The bard began to play. I stood on my chair to give myself more height, and surveyed the room.


    You know, your daughter said something to me. I inclined my glass to Kilvius and Nethtari. A warning, really. She told me I would have no friends in the Enclave. And Im happy to report that though she is almost always right, in this small thing, she was wrong. There arent many, but they are as precious as they are few. And I am pleased to have each and every one of them in this room with me tonight.


    The bard picked up on the tone of my voice immediately, and switched to something dulcet and smooth.


    Casikas! I raised my glass to him. Now, I know that recent transaction have colored your bias I paused as the man laughed, but I have to be the worst employee to ever grace your shop. Thank you for your never-ending patience, and my never ending tab.


    There was a smattering of applause and laughter.


    Jorra. I turned to him and he grinned. Weve gotten up to more shit than I can list on one hand. As my training partner, and partner in crime, I look forward to seeing what fresh hell we can raise. The sanctum is right around the corner.


    Jorra thumped one hand against the table. I hoped he wouldnt hold it against me if I broke that promise.


    Ralakos. Youve had my back since day one. Even when I didnt have yours. Thank you for feeding me I waved an arm at the spread, teaching me, and always looking out for me.


    Finally I turned to Nethtari and Kilvius. Kilvius was smiling, but Nethtaris expression had slipped. She studied me quietly.


    Kilvius, Nethtari. You took me into your home. Before youd even spoken to me, despite the litany of responsibilities, you defended and fought for me. You took your daughter at her word, certainly, but I will never forget that debt. Thank you for accepting me into your family.


    To all of you. May the frost always wane in your waking. I held my glass out in front of me and drained it.


    ----


    Id stepped outside to clear my head. The scrape of gravel gave away quiet footsteps. I jumped and turned around to see Nethtari coming my way. Shed continued to drink throughout the night and was slightly buzzed


    Hi, I said.


    Hello Cairn, She sank down on the step next to me. So, what happened? Her voice was as monotone as always. Decide to say goodbye before you left?


    I flinched. There was an accusation in the statement, though not a mean-spirited one. I dont know what you mean.


    Nethtari rolled her eyes. I was walking home yesterday when, lo and behold, I see my pasty pink child running like a bat out of hell towards the front gate.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I frowned. Alright, pasty is a little mean.


    Im sorry. This is why I dont drink. Nethtari drew circles on her knee. But you were saying goodbye. I heard you, even if no one else did.


    I was. There was no point in denying it. Nethtari had proven time and time again she could read me like a book.


    Where are you going? She asked.


    Hopefully, nowhere. It wasnt a goodbye, goodbye. I thought I was being subtle, I groused.


    Where are you going? Nethtari repeated. She was pushy when she was drunk.


    I was going to talk to you about this in the morning.


    Well, were here. Talk to me about it now.


    Alright! Elphion. I rubbed my head. I need your help.


    Nethtari absorbed that and seemed to sober up.


    Tell me.


    Why slaughter your own people? The confusion in my voice was as real as it got.


    Because that is the cost of deliverance, Ephira snarled. I have tried to do things the proper way for years. I have tried to show them that the humans will not release us until they have sucked away every last thing that makes us unique, but they are happy to pay their taxes, even as the boot clamps down on their throats.


    So you trigger a war, I said slowly. You slaughter your own folk. And then you open the dimensional gate and point the finger at my father, who promptly scatters you to dust.


    Her surprise faded into grim resolve. I was right to take so many precautions.


    Surely you can see how foolish that is. How wasteful. Theyre your people, Ephira!


    I will spend the rest of my life making amends, and beyond. She said quietly. My soul is no longer mine. I will never leave hades. I will never live another life. But if I must dirty myself, to emancipate my people from greed, I am happy to make that sacrifice.


    Youre Insane. I stopped myself before the word could slip out. It was a word I often used to describe someone else. Only, Id come to realize he wasnt insane. Just brutal and calculating.


    I started again. The way youre talking. The insistence that violence is the only answer. Thats the same rationale the king you hate uses to justify every atrocity.


    Ephira stiffened.


    We can fix this together. I insisted. Let me open the dimensional gate. After I am crowned, I will give the Enclave its freedom. We can coexist. We can thrive.


    Ephiras expression finally thawed, and she no longer looked raving and mad. Instead she looked tired. Exhausted.


    It doesnt matter.


    Why?


    Maybe you can stave off your baser nature. But its not you I worry about, Cairn. Its the one that comes after you. And the one that comes after him. And the one after him. Kings wield too much power. Power is inevitably abused.


    I said three words I never thought Id say. Ill absolve it.


    What? Ephiras head snapped up.


    Ive never really cared about the crown. I said, the idea taking root in my mind. The monarchy is a means to an end. A great darkness is coming. Thoths twisted, snarling face flashed in before me in vivid detail. You may not like me, Ephira, but I promise you. The one who is coming is worse. A monster that will strip us of everything that makes us decent folk. I looked around at the demons, who had fallen silent. And it will make this genocide you intend to carry out pale in comparison.


    Ephiras expression told me she wasnt convinced. This is hardly the first time the ruling class has used an existential threat to excuse grabbing for resources and power. Even if the threat is real, the promises made before the war comes to pass are rarely held to afterward.


    I took a step forward. My name is Cairn of House Valen. Son of King Gil, the Tyrant. Heir to the throne. And I swear this to the Elder gods I held out my hand. If you join with me now, once the threat has been dealt with, I will absolve the monarchy.


    She considered it. Weighed the possibilities in her head.


    And them? She indicated the demons around us.


    Let me worry about the asmodials. Ill speak at your trial, ensure a lighter sentence. And eventually, I will convince the enclave to commute your sentence and have you sent to me as an advisor. I thought of the carefully planned brilliance that everything shed accomplished had required. I could use someone like you at my side.


    The room was so quiet I could hear the demons breathing. After what felt like hours, Ephira finally spoke.


    The trouble is, Cairn, I have no idea if anything youre saying is true. In fact, its likely exactly what you think I need to hear. And power is never quite so easy to cede.


    I prayed to all the gods.


    Please.


    I admit that I judged you too harshly. Ephira said. Her voice was sad. But there is too much blood. Even if I wasnt already committed, I could never trust you, just as you could never trust me.


    I gnashed my teeth together and stared down at the ground. This wasnt how it was supposed to go. This wasnt who I was supposed to be.


    Id failed.


    Take him. Dont torture him. Just kill him quickly. Ephira commanded.


    The greater demon didnt move to take my arms. A demon with long claws stroked my cheek, her sharp dagger-like finger scraping against my skin. When she spoke, it was like her voice was being inhaled, rather than exhaled, words thick and raspy.


    What a performance.


    The demons began to laugh, and titter, and cackle.


    What a wonderful, wonderful lie.


    What does that mean? What does she mean? Ephira turned towards Ozra, whose face was stoic. Kill him!


    The demon stroked my head and stared deep into my eyes in wonder.


    I cringed away.


    He does not mourn for himself, infernal. He mourns for you.


    Ephira turned from side to side, panicking. Her guards were grabbed and forced to their knees.


    Ozra rose from his throne and descended.


    They pushed me forward towards him in a writhing black mass, claws rustling my hair, my clothes. Ozra led me up to the throne and held out an arm, inviting me to sit.


    I told you it was pointless. He said.


    Ephiras mouth was agape in horror. What did you promise them? Cairn? What the fuck did you promise them?


    A greater demon placed a twisted black circlet of ivy around my head in the mockery of a crown. I stared down at her, my chest clenching, overcome with grief. For what I had lost and what was required of me now.


    For the world my mother had dreamed of.


    What did you promise them, Cairn? The despair in Ephiras voice was palpable.


    The same thing you did, I said.

 Chapter 72: Enclave XLII (Second Draft)

    Chapter 72: Enclave XLII (Second Draft)


    I sat back on the throne and watched the proceedings. The begging and crying gave me no satisfaction. Not even the secret, twisted kind that the heroes of stories feel when they watch ruin settle upon their enemies.


    Of course, now negotiations were on the table. The amount of bribery and amends she was willing to make was almost staggering. Unfortunately, I couldnt trust any of it. My fatherdamn himhad been right on one account. There was something to be said for negotiating from a position of weakness. My hope had been, however childish, that Ephira would join with me. That despite holding me at her mercy, my humble plea would reach her. But the covers of intrigue and mystery had been tossed aside, and I witnessed her response firsthand.


    There was no going back for us.


    What do you wish to do, my lord? I could feel his cold blue eyes staring down at me, evaluating, waiting for the second I went back on my word.


    My core tightened, forehead straining as I watched Ephira squirm against her captors, her queenly grace all but forgotten. My mind drifted back to the hours earlier, searching desperately for a way out.


    This is folly! Nethtari hissed. Her voice crested the perpetual monotone and accelerated in a panic Id only heard when she was dying. She flung her wineglass into the fireplace, shattering it, stirring the flames. Its poorly thought out, and dangerous, and impulsive, child, even for you.


    Tell me why. Leaning against the wall, I stared into the fireplace.


    Because the things you are playing with, the forces you intend to parlaythese are not simple contracts that can be bought out later. These are eternal


    Which is why I need a competent solicitor by my side to ensure that nothing untoward is snuck in.


    She jabbed a finger at me. Even if I could find a flaw in Ephiras contract, which is likely so iron-clad and well-thought-out that an entire team of solicitors would come up short, it does not change what it will cost.


    I held out my arms wide, frustration finally bubbling to the surface. I have it on good authority that she went out of her way to deceive them. And If you have an alternative course, by all means, voice it, Nethtari.


    Backup from neighboring cloisters- She started.


    I slapped it down immediately. Already tried. Doesnt matter. This arch-demon, this Ozra, is the sort who comes around once an eon. Any force we can muster in a months time will be crushed easily. From what Ive seen, the battle lasts less than a day.


    Nethtari put her hands flat against the table, bent over, deep in thought. What about the other legions? Theyre wild and brutal, but they do self-govern. Surely, if they knew such an attack on the status quo was imminent they would intervene.


    The thought had occurred to me as well. The problem was that most legions outside the asmodials were fractured and decentralized. Id considered financing an expedition to find the bastards and attempted to do so several times, but the level of preparation required meant that the expedition would not be ready until the deadline was practically upon us.


    There were further issues. My best bet for opposing the asmodials were the decarabiathe demons rumored to be fallen celestials. Most legions paled in comparison to the four primary legions, and within those legions laid a classic tactical dilemma. The asmodials had tangential ties to the malthus and cemeries legions.


    From everything I read regarding their historical conflicts, the one factor that kept the decarabia from fully committing in a war against the asmodials was the malthus and cemeries legions working as arbiters to limit the scope. If the decarabia ever fully committed against the asmodials, I had no doubt that the malthus and cemeries legions would move in to finish them off.


    If I had unlimited time, then perhaps I could simply force the issue. But with every additional reset my confidence in that notion had evaporated. Id felt a slight tug between lives, towards the end of the altercation with Barion. This feeling had not been present when I died outside Kholis. But what had felt like a slight pull had crescendoed into a rending, searing tear. From this, I could only gather one conclusion. I had been given additional time. But it was not unlimited.


    As I described my theories on the demons to Nethtari, the doubt that flickered in her eyes told me I was correct. I watched, not without sympathy, as she followed the same train of thought I had. And if we evacuated the Enclave, wed be abandoning our children. Leaving them to the demons. She looked up quickly. What if Ralakos sent troops into the sanctum? It wouldnt have to be a large group. Just enough to seal off the exits and act as warning until we returned.


    My eyebrow rose. And that would be acceptable to you? Asking men Ive never met to make sacrifices Im unwilling to make myself?


    That is the nature of war. Nethtaris lips curled in displeasure. I was reminded of Thaddeus and his damn sliding scale of morality. Even Nethtari was not immune.


    Perhaps, I said. But it would be a desperate sacrifice to lock us into a losing battle. We dont know what Ephira has planned, specifically, but we know her intentions. When she unlocks the dimensional gate, she will incite the infernal warriors within, and they will burn my cities to ruin. It would take an immense struggle to oppose them, and leave me unable to oppose Thoth in her efforts to gather an army elsewhere.


    Nethtaris eyes began to glisten. But why does it have to be you? The anguish in her voice wrenched at me. This is not your fight.


    It is, though.


    You dont have to say it. Ill look after your family, Maya.


    Maya trusted me. The way Lillian had trusted me.


    The upside is, it will work to my advantage. It is the rational choice, and it will be a long stride towards evening the playing field for the inevitable conflict. And Ive broken too many promises, Nethtari. My hands began to shake. This one I have to keep. Or I will be lost.


    Nethtari squeezed my shoulders. I know what you must think. That if the consequences fall on you and you alone, that makes them acceptable, no matter how horrible they are. But you are wrong, Cairn. Others will pay. They always do.


    There was a warning in her words, amidst the grief. But I was too focused on the trial ahead to pay it any mind.


    Nethtari supported my arm as we departed the boats and headed further into the Twilight Chambers. Theros lead the way, his face drawn and wary. He would only accompany us to the point that Persephone had marked. With knowledge of her son, it had been easy enough to convince her to pool her funds with Ralakos and buy Mifral out, the additional capital used to ensure the womans silence.


    The shadows grew longer and I began to see things in them, my previous flashes in the boats extending out into entire scenes, my mind repeating what had been done to me, over and over again.


    I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything else.


    Not long after Theros departed, the demons found us and escorted us into the antechamber. Nethtari announced herself as a solicitor and a neutral partyI had my doubts that the asmodials would care, but her insistence to the contrary turned out to be correct. Even if negotiations fell through, she would swear a vow of silence and be allowed to leave.


    The demons chittered and circled me, like sharks following blood. I reminded myself that they could sense my fear and tried to quash it. I actually managed it, to some extent, focusing on Nethtari. She was sitting across from what I assumed to be a greater demon. He had no lips, painfully white teeth and gray gums exposed, and he wore a cloth blindfold to cover his eyes. The rest of his body was entirely hidden in tight cloth, hands shod in gloves.


    He was leaning over a piece of paper, whispering angrily. Despite his intimidating appearance, Nethtari did not falter, arguing whatever point she was making vehemently. Finally, the blindfolded demon stared at the piece of paper, scrawled in demonic, and took it through one of the back tunnels.


    When Ozra entered, I felt myself grow weak. Unintentionally, I began the small pulse of mana that would activate my suicide inscriptiononly I didnt have the inscription. As he approached the throne I attempted it twice more, purely at novelhall.com


    Do not let your enemy see your fear. I heard my fathers voice, as clearly and loudly as if he was sitting next to me. His cruel hand gripped my wrist tightly. Speak to him as if you have already died, and the outcome of the conversation is trivial to you.


    I stood and approached the throne.


    Arch-Fiend Ozra. I did not tend to the bead of sweat that dripped down my forehead.


    Do not bow.


    I remained upright, as stiff as a board.


    Prince Cairn. He studied me, as if I was a piece of mud on the bottom of his shoe. My underling has brought it to my attention that we have been deceived.


    Not yet. We were negotiating now. It was familiar territory. I could do this. Ephira has reached her pinnacle. But I have a long way to grow. I am thirteen years old and I have already reached my second awakening.


    His eyes were cold. And the moment I take your soul, your growth will atrophy. The darkness of your future will weigh you down, mire you in existential dread. Ive seen it a thousand times, child. The humans have a phrase that fits here. A bird in the hand.


    His argument, everything he was saying, it made sense. I could see it. Perhaps, if I was the same person I had been before, he might have even been right. But that was before all the death. The slaughter. Watching friends and allies die over and over again. That had brought the truth of things into focus. Nethtari and Kilvius. My sisters. My mother. What was one life in the face of that? Of them?


    I dont give a shit.


    Im sorry?


    I approached, until I was only inches away. The faint smell of ozone and sulfur hung heavy. I let out all the rage, all the frustration, all the pent up anger and bitterness that had resulted from being unable to do nothing.


    You seem to be under the impression that I care what happens to me. I paced back and forth. And youd be right. I did. There was once a time when I felt I was the only thing in the world that mattered. So small minded. So selfish. The hatred turned inwards. But oh, how things have changed. You think after trading my soul away Ill live in fear? No. Nothing will change. Because I live in fear every single day. I let the words hang. From behind, I could hear shuffling as the demons crept closer to the throne, listening. Fear propels me forward, sustains me, armors me. There is no trial, no suffering you can put me through that compares to watching the people I love suffer and die. So drag me to the hells and do your worst.


    I held my arms wide, then dropped them to my sides. I have been stabbed, sliced opened, crushed, set on fire, flayed to my soul, and I am still standing. Because I am not a child. I am a revenant.


    ... You are not lying. Ozra said. He seemed to come to a decision and his voice changed, became smooth and reassuring. Perhaps we can come to terms. Fortified by the malthus and cemeries legions, the asmodials will back you. All I ask is that you join me in the eternal fire. And we will rule the underworld forever.


    I had hoped it wouldnt come to this. But in the end, the choice was perhaps less difficult than youd imagine. In many ways I had already made it. Nethtari reading over the third version of the document, looking visibly ill. Id been as clear with her as I possibly could without triggering the wipe that would remove the information from her mind. I didnt want her to try and trick the asmodials, or leave loopholes. Even if they werent clever, Ephira had made fools of them, and they would likely be looking closely for anything resembling an escape clause.


    The crucial point was for her to ensure that my soul would be bound to hades as its final resting place. Emphasis on final. The contract would be written in such a way that the demons could not accelerate my death, or prevent my soul from returning to my body in the case of divine restoration. I was worried that this might be a point of contention, but Nethtari was not. Resurrection magic was rare to the point of being legendaryusually only talked about in elven legendsbut folk often left room in contracts such as these for the fantastical. It was more often than not an act of final desperation.


    Nethtari placed the contract in front of me. I looked through the demonic scrawl. I could read over half of it, though there were likely implications and double-meanings I could only guess at. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the time for argument was over.


    Ozra cut his palm, squeezing his fist and allowing a trickle of blood to flow into the waiting inkwell. He handed me the knife and I did the same.


    I dipped the feather pen and froze.


    My hand would not descend.


    Still staring at the contract, I felt cold and empty. My voice caught in my throat. From off to the side, I heard Nethtari stifle a sob.


    Ozra bent down to meet my gaze, recognition flickering in his eyes. You have heard the stories, then.


    Yes.


    For a moment, I thought you a fool. I am glad to be proven wrong. He paused, choosing his wording with care. There is a period of correction. Certain things must be set right. Weaknesses eliminated.


    The pen quivered in my hand.


    After that, unless you rebel, or are captured by another legion, then no. We do not abuse our residents, especially those who are powerful and have given their souls willingly. He smiled at me. It was a terrible smile, full of sharp teeth and fangs. And you will be powerful.


    I was reminded of the coronation. Of how I had put my selfishness above the needs of so many. This was my chance to do the opposite. To right the scale. In this life, it would cost me nothing.


    I would never join my family in Valhalla.


    But that was alright, wasnt it?


    Passing this hurdle would be the first step to ensuring they lived better lives. That the world that came to be after the war would be a better one. And it wasnt just my family. I would save Mayas familyno, her entire people. The price was paltry.


    One cowards soul for the lives of millions.


    There was never any choice.


    I pressed the pen to paper and signed my name in red.


    Everything that followed had been Ozras idea. He wanted Ephira dead for what she had done, her men as well. Id asked him to stay his hand. I hated Ephira for what shed done, but Ralakos wanted her tried in front of the council and after what this had cost, I wanted to ensure my relationship with the infernals was forged in steel.


    And Ephira was clever. If I could get her to see past her hatred, to spare me out of simple mercy, perhaps she could be useful to the future of Uskar. But more than that, after all the bloodshed, I wanted to resolve this peacefully.


    Ozra had made me a wager. If I could bring Ephira to my side, he would spare her. If I couldnt, then the asmodials would kill her, and every man that accompanied her. But shed had her chance.


    What do you wish to do, my lord, Ozra asked.


    The demons cackled. One swiped at Ephiras leg, drawing blood. She yelped. One of her guards broke free and ran to her, only to be cut down.


    Prince! Ephira called up at me, cradling her wound, her eyes wild. I made a mistake. I was not thinking clearly. Please. Show mercy.


    Ozras face grew crafty. He whispered in my ear. You know, I could still spare her. There would be favors owed. But I can be quite amenable when the mood strikes me.


    I rested my forehead in my palm, Ephiras begging drowned out by the torrent of voices and thoughts in my head.


    It is one thing to slay an opponent in battle. Another entirely to murder him in cold blood.


    He was too weak to do what was necessary.


    You will be a good king. A kinder king.


    A king has only one use for mercy, boy. To flush out the snakes at his heel.


    I saw Agarin, in the dark of his room, details marred by the shadows of the red auric sun. His white eyes stared up at the ceiling lifelessly. There wasnt much blood. It was the casualness of it that stuck so firmly in my mind. My double had reached down into the crib, placed a hand on his chest, and pushed.


    My breath was as frigid as the cavern air. I opened my eyes and signaled Ozra.


    Do as you please.

 Chapter 73: Enclave XLIII

    Chapter 73: Enclave XLIII


    This was what misplaced loyalty wrought.


    I watched silently, forcing myself to take it in, committing it to memory. This was what would happen to my friends, my allies, if I was too weak to face Thoth when the time came. They would be on the wrong side of history, and she would make them suffer for it.


    Nethtari was tucked away near the back of the room, watching from behind a pillar. I felt her eyes on me.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    What must she think of me now?


    I told myself it didnt matter. Ephira had rushed towards the stone staircase only to be struck down. Her throat was cut. This time, the that blood seeped from between was bright red. She choked and gurgled. The front of her face was nestled in the stairway, features hidden in shadow except for one milky-white eye tinged pink that pierced straight through me.


    The betrayal itself hadnt hurt me. I barely knew Ephira. What haunted me was the idea that someone seemingly intelligent and rational was willing to sell her soul to oppose me. Was the idea of a united Uskar really so foreign, so unlikely?


    There was a final moan from somewhere in the corner of the room which was quickly stamped out.


    You gave up.


    The idea nagged at me. Had there been a better solution? Was there, still? I didnt think so. At least not one available to me as I was. If I was stronger, then maybe, none of this would have happened.


    No.


    I shook my head to clear it, vehemently. Even within the loop there would always be people stronger than me. Ozra spoke to that. Hell, even Ralakos spoke to that. If the enclave had taught me anything, it was that brute strength and dedication could only get me so far. No matter how hard I pushed myself there were beings that had been at this for hundreds, even thousands of years longer than I had.


    I needed to be smarter.


    The demons cleared out the bodies. I found myself wondering what, exactly, they intended to do with them, then decided I was better off not knowing. Nethtari stood beside me, though I noted her distance was slightly greater than before.


    Before we left the cavern, Ozra brought up the topic of a demon to bind. They were strangely reverent towards me, Ozra included. I wondered how common it was for someone in my position to do what I had donejudging from the reaction, it seemed as if it was particularly rare.


    He offered several beasts. One had legs as thick around as oak trees, and massive claws that could easily cut a person in half. I considered it. I was lacking in brute strength.


    I moved on to the next. It was a shadowy greater demon with black claws and a feminine form. I recognized her as the same variety that had struck down that girl in the alley. A hit-and-run fighter not unlike myself. But she wasnt what I was looking for.


    The final greater demon Ozra had arranged was a simple floating wisp, with a globule of black oil in the center that could have served for an eye. It was an exceptional caster. Ozra stated with the flare of a horse salesman that it had access to water, fire, and electric elements, all nearing the third stage.


    That seems incredibly valuable. I said, considering the choice.


    Indeed. The sort of demon an infernal at the menagerie would never be offered. Only the best for you, your grace. When Ozra said your grace, the inflection made it sound like he was telling a little joke.


    Something about it still didnt feel quite right. Considering the cost, a bit of pickiness was to be expected. I surveyed the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the blindfolded, lipless demon who had been negotiating with Nethtari earlier skulking in the back, as if he was hiding.


    Ozra followed my gaze, and his brow lowered in displeasure. Ah. Vogrin. Come forth. The demon skulked forwards. The tightly fitted coat and dark formal wear looked like they would have been more at home in a Panthanian court.


    Yes, master. Vogrins voice was ear-thrummingly deep with a slight a nasal tinge.


    Ozra stared at his servant, clearly displeased. Vogrin is my Shlackfei.


    I tried to parse the word. Uh. Academic?


    We will need to work on your demonic. Close, but no. The suffix means master, the prefix could be interpreted as knowledge. A sense of looming danger emitted from Ozra. Though he has hardly lived up to that title as of late.


    My apologies. Though it was clearly stated that contracts were not my specialty, arch-fiend. There was just enough vestigial attitude in the statement for me to smile.


    If your failures were limited to the contract, I would only curse your line and be done with it. Ozra rubbed his face.


    The enclave is specifically warded against greater demons, arch-fiend. Were it any other city-


    Yes, weve had this conversation before. It does not change the fact that you failed me.


    I changed the subject. Thank you, for accompanying me Nethtari. I know it wasnt easy.


    It was the least I could do.


    It really wasnt.


    The silence expanded outwards into the surrounding cave. I looked up at the elven ruins that first foray into the Twilight Chambers had been ambushed from, so very long ago.


    It was finally over.


    ----


    The enclave came back into focus. It was like the filter of doom and suffering had lifted, and I could once again see how beautiful it was. A gaggle of children raced through the crowded streets, dodging under carts and around perturbed folk who scoffed at them and went on their way. A merchant called out, advertising a recent shipment of fine silks. And the flow of people curved around a particularly strange mixing of people that waited at the docks. Some nodded and bowed to councilor Ralakos, who smiled magnanimously and waved them on their way. Several called out to Kilvius, who held a babbling toddler in his arms. No one, however, seemed to recognize the woman dressed in a cloak for the lynchpin of the underworld that she was.


    Nethtari departed the boat first, and ran to Kilvius, pulling him into a hug, Agarin between them. The grime and despondency of everything that had happened within the twilight chambers, the stain upon my soul, seemed to evaporate.


    I take it things did not end amicably. Ralakos asked.


    Unfortunately I winced. Erdos?


    He tried to escape, and when he could not, he fought to his last breath.


    I winced, immediately thinking of Bell. His daughter?


    Ill see to her. It is the least I can do. Ralakos held out an arm. When I took it, he pulled me into an embrace. Dimension gate or not, I will remember this, Prince Cairn.


    Persephone chuckled. For someone I just met, you certainly know how to make an impression. Gods its good to be free of her.


    I didnt have to ask who Persephone meant. You and Ralakos didnt have any problems manipulating the double once the scepter was out of range? I asked. Wed tested it, but it was still a worry in my mind.


    Yes. Persephone said. Ephira announced that she would be stepping down from the council to focus on her duties. Her eyes slid over to Ralakos slyly. I knew why, though I declined to comment. There would be a hell of a vacuum in the enclave markets with Ephira goneand I had no doubt Persephone would be there to capitalize on the opening.


    I need to get going, Ralakos said, and pointed at me. You will be joining me for dinner later? Tomorrow? Well drink wine. Ill have the chefs prepare sceo


    Ill join you, but please, no more slugs. I winced.


    Persephone extended her hand to me. The sultry air shed played up all those months ago was still there, but significantly dialed down. Come to me before you enter the Sanctum. I dont like owing people, and I have access to wares that will help, which you wont be getting in the Enclave. She leaned in and whispered in my ear. Thank you, for the other thing.


    She took her leave.


    Jorra flicked a small projectile of water at me to get my attention. I instinctively summoned an aegis and blocked it, though it was smaller than an egg.


    Tell me what the hells going on later? Jorra asked in a low tone, looking up at both his parents in irritation.


    Sure, I lied


    Kilvius ruffled my hair. I know Ive said it before, but I really am proud of you, Cairn.


    The weight in my chest lifted, if only for a moment.


    Ready to go home?


    Id decided some time ago that when this was over, I was going to take Ralakos up on his offer of a spare room, at least for a while. Nethtari would need some space, after what shed seen, and I had no doubt that when she shared what had happened with Kilvius, it would affect his perception of me. Still. I could worry about that tomorrow.


    I closed the door of Mayas room behind me. The very muscles in my back seemed tense, begging me to lay down and relax. But I couldnt. Not yet. I sat back up and summoned Vogrin. He appeared before me on one knee.


    What is your command, master?


    There was one last thing I needed to do.

 Chapter 74: Enclave XLIV

    Chapter 74: Enclave XLIV


    I threw open the doors to my fathers study and gave it voice, loud and unmoderated.


    Why?!


    The sound of my own voice startled me. Id never dared to yell at him before. It was simply something that was not done, not dared. But he was not at his desk. The candle was lit, casting dim light on a stack of unsigned documents, yet his chair was empty.


    I found him at the cushioned bench that sat before a wide open window. He was positioned sideways, one knee propped up on the bench itself, the foot planted on the floor. The white light of the moon colored his face pale as he stared up at it. For a moment, he almost looked


    Haunted.


    He seemed to realize my presence, and the expression disappeared, leaving only the cold, stoic apathy Id come to know him for.


    Did you say something? He asked. His words blurred together, as if he had just roused from a dream.


    Why did you have to kill them all? I asked.


    What, the elves?


    Yes.


    King Gil scoffed. Do I have to define the concept of treason?


    No, I said. I understand why the adults were put to the sword. They were killing surveyors and plotting against the crown. Their punishment, while severe... I could understand it. I licked my lips. But the children?


    You are such a fool, Father said.


    I could feel the fiery determination and resolve that brought me here slowly trickling away.


    Then explain it to me. Please. If I am such a fool, then illuminate why such a thing was necessary.


    Father rumbled something under his breath, then turned back to look out the window. Tell me what happens, boy. Tell me what happens in the tales when a village is razed but a child is spared.


    I knew the answer immediately. A hero is born.


    And there is another word for such a person for those on the other side, Father said. If I were to do what you suggest. To spare the children, to leave a trail of broken and traumatized wretches who will stew, and plot, and plan. What then, do you suppose will happen when they all grow up? When they become leaders of their communities?


    Could they not be integrated into our society? Isnt that our responsibility after such violence? I asked.


    My father raised an eyebrow. Youd have me assimilate them? Annihilate their culture? Im surprised your mother hasnt blathered on about that particular moral quandary yet.


    I had no misgivings that my father actually cared about anyones culture, outside ours. But something in his words rang true.


    Who gave them the steel?


    Father sighed. It was the sigh of a man who had not rested in quite some time, and would not rest for longer still. This can all be boiled down to a single tenet, boy. A tenet all kings know, and all kings practice, no matter how kind or cruel. The individual will never take precedent over the whole. His head tilted towards me, and the darkness in his eyes chilled me to the bone. It matters not who they are. There will be those whose mere existence contradicts the vision of the world you hope to buildcurrent or eventual, child or adult. There is only one way to deal with such a threat. Anything else is folly.


    ----


    The city of Roseborough took its name literally, judging from the beautiful, well tended greenery that lined the main gate and starred in the many gardens within the city walls. Roses of nearly every color graced the bushes and beautiful blossoms unfolded within the trees themselves.


    The primarily nonhuman population looked on with some curiosity as I navigated the streets alone on my mare, mask covering my face, looking for one establishment in particular. There were a few humans here, but for the most part, the demographics mirrored that of the enclave itself, though slightly more diversemostly infernals, then dwarves and elves respectively.


    A woman exited a corner-store carrying a stack of books tucked under her chin and I looked up at the sign: Zorsons boutique.


    Found it.


    The front door opened with a slow creak. The Infernal at the front counter, wrinkly and gray of hair, seemed to be lightly dozing, his chin propped up on gnarled fingers. I cleared my throat. Nothing. I tried again.


    The man I assumed to be Zorson shook awake, slamming both hands onto the counter and startling us both. He glared up at me, as if Id trespassed into his home rather than entered a public place.


    What? He snapped.


    Sorry to disturb you. Im looking for several tomes on the topic of magic. I said.


    Theres an arcane emporium down the road that-a-way, back towards the gate.


    Sorry. Historical tomes, I corrected. Not spellbooks.


    Aye, weve got some of those. He waved me towards the back-left corner.


    Is there anyone that could help me find what Im looking for? Specifically? My mastery of your language is tenuous. I played up the elven accent.


    Bacchus! Zorson shouted suddenly. The hells am I paying you for?


    Just a minute! A voice called down from the second level, bright and clear.


    Head on back. Hell be with you shortly. Zorson waved me back towards the corner again. I crossed the store. The scent of parchment called to me. Lillian had an entire philosophy around the nature of booksellers. Though there were far niceralbeit more expensive establishments in Whitefall proper, she preferred the older, more lived in feeling of the topside resellers. There were all sorts of treasures to be found in those places according to her: older editions that were barely differed from the newer and more expensive versions, banned texts, and the occasional undiscovered masterpiece.


    I walked through the rows of shelves, lightly tracing the spines of various tomes. The infernal cataloguing of magic tradition was genuinely impressive. They had in-depth, multi-volume histories for every element I knew of, and more than a few I didnt. The Short and Sordid History of Marrow Magicians caught my eye. I was partly curious, but also not entirely sure if I wanted to know how that worked.


    My finger stopped on a book that seemed more than a little out of place. The Ghoul Slayer. What was a human fairy tale doing in a place like this? Come to think of it, there had been a small section for elven and dwarven texts. I picked it up and leafed through it fondly.


    The story troubled me on multiple levels. The idea that Thoth could gift magic was terrifying on its ownand changed things to an extent that I could hardly list the number of implications, but the idea that shed already been operating for years before my first reset was disquieting as well.


    The question was, why was Thoth playing with me? If shed truly been planning so many years in advance, why not just kill me? I wasnt sure I bought the whole sadist, psychopath act. I had to be missing something.


    Bacchuss jaw clenched, as he finished telling the tale. He stared down at the spark in his hand. Its caused me nothing but grief.


    How old are you? I asked. He looked thrown by the sudden change of topic.


    Uh, eighteen, He said.


    So youve never been to the Sanctum, then?


    No. Bacchus looked down.


    I made a decision. Slowly, I rose to my feet and stood before him.


    Look. I know a thing or two about having parents who try to decide everything for you. Information was only part of why I came to you. The other part is I wanted to extend an invitation for you to return. Ralakos offered to put you under his protection. You still have time to enter the Sanctum. You can still learn.


    He looked like Id just offered him the world.


    I want that more than anything, Bacchus said.


    I tossed him a small purse of silver. He tried to catch it, but missed, and it bounced off his knee and into the grass.


    Sorry. Thats for your transportation, whenever youre ready. I said.


    I thank you. He said, finally. He shook my hand. Oh, gods, I have to go get my cat, but-


    No, were done here. Go get your cat. Hopefully, Ill see you around the enclave soon. I smiled.


    Thank you, Bacchus said again.


    He disappeared down the hill, taking big bounding steps. As soon as hed vanished from view, my smile slipped. The emerald at my neck glowed hotly. I didnt want to talk to Vogrin right now, but he clearly wanted to speak to me.


    Bah, fine. I summoned him.


    Vogrin manifested on the summoning circle, drawing himself up to full height and appearing especially unhappy. He looked off in the direction that Bacchus had disappeared. What exactly was the point of all that, master?


    Gathering information, Vogrin. Something you know a thing or two about.


    He studied me coyly. And when you poisoned that dagger at your back on the way here, was that for the sake of gathering information as well?


    I looked at him hard. It had been less than a week and the demon was already second-guessing me constantly.


    I cannot fathom your reasoning. Vogrin groused. He looked towards Roseborough. His very existence reduces your value to the infernals. He poses a clear threat to you. I have to assume you know this, as you worked me tirelessly to track him downwhich was no simple feat. Yet, when the moment comes, you do nothing.


    Yes.


    From what I saw in the twilight chambers, I thought you were above such petty morality. Vogrin sounded disappointed.


    My teeth ground. Ephira had to die.


    Perhaps. The high councillor wouldve posed many problems in the future. But her guards did not. Vogrin said.


    They were complicit.


    If your failure to act here today leads to the loss of infernals as allies, and the loss of the war you are so certain will come, are you not also complicit? Vogrin pressed.


    I sighed. I saw it, in the chamber.


    It?


    The path to becoming my father. I rubbed my forehead. I spent so much of my life thinking he was mad, irrational. Hes irrational in other waysbut his strategies, his tactics, theres a logic to them. They make sense.


    And yet, you do this why? Vogrin asked.


    There was a chill in the air.


    Because my father failed. In my vision. He didnt fail because of what he did. He failed because he didnt take things far enough. Eventually, he tired of the constant violence. His stranglehold slackened. And they killed him for it.


    Im confused. Vogrin said again.


    To succeed him, to follow that path, I would have to do the things that even he was unwilling to do. And I could never stop. I shook my head slowly.


    That is the nature of power. Feared leaders reign long and die violently. But kind leaders are short-lived as they are beloved. Vogrin said.


    True enough. I said.


    My mothers kindness. My fathers cruelty. They were both right. Just as they were both wrong. What that meant for me and the person I would become, I had no way of knowing.


    I dont understand you. Vogrin grumbled.


    There was a burst of light as he disappeared into the amulet, leaving me alone in the clearing with only my thoughts.

 Enclave - Interlude (Thoth)

    Enclave - Interlude (Thoth)


    Thoth stared into the pool of red, through the stars that were not stars, and slammed her hand through it, shattering the image. The madness coursed through her and magic rippled through her skin, clawing at her pores, begging for release.


    It was not that Cairn had won, that rankled. She had left the enclave relatively unchallenged as a test case. It was how he had won seemingly without effort that was cause for alarm.


    Break him. Break everything.


    The madness was insistent now. She had bled too much. In mere moments it would be beyond the point of no return, and the madness would demand any blood that was not hers. Enemy, ally, it mattered little to the red harbinger that plagued her. Eventually, she would let it feast and have its fill. But it had a use, and in this instance it was more harm than good.


    Thoth pulled herself to her feet, unable to fully lift her head, her spine twitching and dragged herself through the dungeon. With every step the madness grew, the twitching becoming more pronounced. She realized with grim irritation that she had overtaxed herself. Prescience was never cheapboth in the blood it cost and the mental strain.


    She reached her destination: an inconspicuous section of wall. To anyone else, it would appear like any other in the dungeon. Through mage sight, there was a small black dot, floating and shrouded.


    Thoth wiggled her fingers through it and tore it open. It formed a flickering portal no larger than a personal mirror. One of her many caches throughout the lair. Thoth removed the contents one by one, a series of highly concentrated poultices. She loathed them. Hated her reliance on them. But they were necessary.


    Isopsilchyzox to stave off the whispers and the need.


    Octaimioncin to clear her mind from the languid cloudiness and apathy that the isospsilchyzox would plunge her into.


    Duosuvid to prevent inevitable tolerance and dependence for both.


    This was her regimen when she needed to think. To plan.


    The series of events up to the aborted attack on the enclave were semi-explainable. First, there were a number of the metamorphosis idiots who had to be dealt with, and the beginning of the loop was always taxing. She was already weakened to an unacceptable degree at the start and projecting herself backwards beyond that point weakened her to an even greater extent, limiting her capabilities for months and leaving her deathly ill and recovering for weeks.


    Annoying.


    Matters were not helped by the fact that Barion had proved over and over again he was an imbecilewell no, that was perhaps the wrong word. He was a savant. An ideologically twisted, wholly focused savant, with a lens of concentration so narrow it left him open to many vectors of attack. Shed played the scenario out before with no issue, multiple times: sidetracking the prince and luring him into the Everwood, allowing Barion to play his little games. It was a light and otherwise meaningless indulgence. A small one that served multiple purposes, both tormenting Cairn and often leading to an initial awakening which would be useful later.


    She smiled darkly. Barion would delight in that victory and take it as a confirmation and justification of his methods. In the process, he would completely ignore the much more obvious reality that it was not the method but the subject that had mattered. Once Cairn awakened and Thoth had regained her strength, she would sweep in and steal the moment, savoring Barions hopelessness as he realized the world would never know what he had achieved, his memory retained by none but a select few as a monstrous failure.


    But Cairn had awakened in the Everwood. That had never happened before.


    Still, it wasnt impossible. Cairn had potential. If he was attacked, if the stress was high enough, an early awakening could be explained away as another avenue through which the variability of time had reared its ugly head. Thoth had learned a long time ago that time was an unreliable mistress. The smallest thing could lead to a drastically different future. A child ran through the street, tripping over a pebble which was knocked into the road. The pebble serving as a final bump for an errant wagon-wheel which shattered, overturning overripe produce onto a lord heading to a party, who would be forced to return home and be more than fashionably late for evening, completely changing the routines and futures of everyone he would have interacted with that eve, and everyone that they in turn would interact with differently, all because of such a small, insignificant deviation.


    Then Barion had lowered his Guard and Cairn and Maya had killed him together, taking his greater demon for themselves.


    That was harder to explain. But still, not impossible; that there was some strange, less than a percentage chance that a series of events led the slime to awakening early, befriending an infernalone Thoth knew from personal experience to be highly useful, albeit in need of correctionand defeating a revenant and demon, as unlikely as it seemed.


    At the time, the divergence had been amusing. A much welcome change of pace in the face of endless, agonizing repetition.


    Then Kholis. Her lip curled. The little town should have been the end of him. She knew she needed to kill him after the Everwood, or break him completely. It would ruin her plans, and possibly the entire loop, but that was preferable to the alternative: the little prince building momentum. In his unaffected, unaltered state, the prince was not unlike a massive boulder at the peak of an endless hill. Harmless. Worthless. Until it started to roll.


    Thoth knew too well, how much of a problem that momentum could be, even if it posed no danger to her now. After all, she had once willingly stepped in the path of that boulder, so many centuries ago.


    And that had made her what she was today.


    She had decided it would be better to kill him in Kholis, just to be safe. But her curiosity had been piqued. Shed used the augury once more to spy on him. It was a process that was imperfect by design. It came at a great personal cost, beyond the blood she spilled, and the image and sound were almost always distorted. Traditional spies were a better alternative, but building a network was tedious and took time.


    Ghast seemed to sense the danger and stopped, letting the story fade before speaking again. I dont understand why you didnt take the enclave.


    There are other factors.


    Because of the words of an addled child? He asked.


    If the gods have reemerged Thoths vision swam. She remembered those days vividly, before shed fully come into her power. Being struck by lightning repeatedly. Torn to pieces by bears. Swallowed by the earth. Fate itself bending to fight her at every turn.


    The gods have turned from us. From everyone. You said it yourself. They are gone.


    She gritted her teeth. Of course, he couldnt understand the importance of it. It had been hundreds of years since the gods had intervened. Perhaps more. There was no good way to keep count. If there was even the slightest chance of their meddling, she needed to know. Things had diverged far too much, far too quickly, and he was too limited to see the full picture. The theory needed further testing. How much did Cairn remember? How many layers deep did the deceit go? Did he know?


    Thoth thought of the way he had looked at her after the fight outside Kholis. The rebellion. The hate.


    No. That could not be true. Would not be true for another thousand years, perhaps beyond that. Would never be true, the wretch that he was. But it could be an opportunity to flush out anyonegod or otherwisewho was manipulating things behind the scene. Perhaps there was a way to get answers and assuage Ghast, all at the same time.


    Thoth smiled at him. For a moment, it looked as if Ghast might squirm away in discomfort. You speak unwisely. But not untruly. Perhaps it is time to take a heavier hand.


    Then, youll let me end this fixation? Ghast let the question hang.


    It would be wise to kill him while hes isolated and vulnerable. She saw his hesitation, his fear, and smiled widely.


    Unless there is a secret you plan to share I do not share your immunity.


    You dare doubt me? Her voice filled the chamber and the water trembled.


    No, master. He said slowly, defeated.


    Putting that aside. Theres something else you should see. An interloper has revealed themselves.


    Thoth channeled magic, warm light emitting from her palms and forming an image. It took on a cast of yellows, oranges, and dull whites as the sun within the image set under a distant hill. The image took focus into the scene shed watched multiple times, and the prince staggered out into a field, falling to his knees. On first look, he almost appeared to be alone. But there was another person there, a form so thin as to almost be translucent.


    The hatred took root in her heart, whole and deep.


    Ghast leaned forward, squinting. A spirit?


    Of a sort.


    He snorted. First demons, now spirits. Your plaything is certainly making the rounds.


    Thoth bit back an angry retort. The question of exactly how Cairn had managed to keep the demons from attacking was still a huge blank, and she knew from experience how vital even the smallest piece of knowledge could be.


    Ghast pulled a pad from his coat and began to sketch the likeness as she held the image firm. Ill look into it. Run it by some of the scholars.


    Dont bother, Thoth said. I already know who she is.


    She? Ghasts eyebrows narrowed in confusion.


    Her name is Hilde.

 Chapter 76: Sanctum I

    Chapter 76: Sanctum I


    Good. But not good enough. Theyd catch up with me at this point. I channeled magic into the inscriptions at my legs, and the haste coding propelled me faster until the scenery was almost an indistinguishable blur.


    Duck. The amulet at my neck burned. I moved on instinct, dodging under a hissing tight flow of water pressurized enough to slice through skin, sliding on my knees beneath the stream.


    An earlier warning would have been nice, I hissed under my breath. The emerald at my neck vibrated in a pattern that was hard to interpret as anything other than laughter.


    A ghost caught my eye: a thin, willowy specter that was almost translucent. It had been pacing me perfectly but made a mistake, barely broaching beyond the blindspot to my left. The specter dove at me, swinging her curved blade in a vicious horizontal strike. I couldnt get the aegis up in time, but the transcription on my armdesigned to activate when I attempted to summon an aegisglowed bright yellow, burning the skin beneath, the kinetic force of the strike dispersed as heat. I struck out with my elbow hard and heard a resounding oof, as the air was driven from my attackers lungs.


    I grinned. There was a clearing up ahead where a golden artifact sat on an altar, glowing brightly. So close now. I picked up the pace, hauling myself up onto what used to be a thin support rail for a large building before hurling myself down, preparing to cross the final stream


    Which was as slippery as it was solid the moment I stepped onto it. I pinwheeled, trying to keep my balance as my rugged boots lost traction and I flailed across the ice, falling hard on my hands, pushing myself up again. My ghostly specter from before was back, this time not bothering to sneak up on me. She stabbed at me, and I met her blow with the sword breaker, an audible clink as her blade slid between the grooves and was stuck there.


    I reached for my bag and Bellarex grabbed my free arm to stop me. I head-butted her but she was ready for it, lowering her chin so my forehead glanced painfully off her skull.


    Fine. Time to get serious.


    I manipulated the air. Id specifically designed several pouches on my belt with magnetic lids. With a strong enough breeze emanating from inside the bag the lids would pop open, bring forth their contents.


    The powder sped towards her in a granular arc. Her eyes widened and she disengaged, abandoning her blade, memory no doubt still fresh of the last time Id hit her with a combination of stinging nettles.


    But that wasnt what I was doing now. I called the flame, setting the powder on fire and flinging it at her in a wide arc. She backpedaled on the ice. I noted, wryly, that she was wearing spiked boots. They had planned this.


    My mind strained as I encircled her with the powder. Then stoked the flame with pure mana. She fell through the ice into the water. I took an extra moment to extinguish the flame, so she wouldnt be stuck there.


    A whip, once leather, now metal and light, lashed around my neck like a garrote. The ice beneath my feet dissolved and refroze, sticking me to the surface. Jorra tightened his whip and walked towards me. He was also wearing the spiked boots. I was, apparently, the only one to miss the memo.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    The smart play would be to yield. But I didnt want to.


    Give it up, Cairn, Jorra said.


    Some powder was still burning. If I could manage to call it over without looking, I could free myself. Id burn the hell out of my boots but in a real combat scenario that wouldnt matter. It


    Bonk.


    A blunted throwing knife infused with void bounced off my head. The void clung to me, spoiling any immediate plans of casting.


    Not to mention it hurt. A lot.


    I nursed my wound with one hand and held the other towards Jorra in surrender. He released the whip. I breathed in deeply as he walked towards bell, who was still half immersed, clinging to the edge of the frozen circle, looking soaked and miserable.


    Was that really necessary? I scowled at her, rubbing the sore spot where the dagger had hit.


    Was this really necessary? Bell shot back. Her teeth chattered.


    I was going to surrender.


    No you werent, They spoke simultaneously.


    Some time later, the gold painted artifact, had been obliterated into kindling for the fire. I was trying to concentrate, speed up the process of mana regeneration, but the chatter kept me distracted.


    I dont understand how you got that much better in such a short time, Jorra said. He stared into the fire, somewhat short-spoken. His arms were bare, showing lean definition where there was little half a year ago. But he was still less muscular than Bell. Her biceps could make a dwarf swoon.


    Ive had more free time than you, I said.


    Jorras just being sore that he cant win one-on-one anymore. Bell pushed at his shoulder. Jorra shifted away from her and rolled his eyes. His gaze shifted down to my arms, now rewrapped in bandages.


    Just be patient with her. Shes been through a lot, I said.


    Yeah. Im not trying to be an asshole. I just feel like were not ready, Jorra said.


    From everything Ive heard, its not the sort of thing you can fully prepare for. I thought back to Morthuss description of the sanctum, how hed compared it to birds pushing their young out of the nest. You either fly or you fall.


    He tore his gaze away from the crevasse and changed the subject. Dinner. Soon. Preferably before we leave.


    He reached a hand out towards me at waist level and I clasped his arm. Then he set off at a brisk jog towards his home, ducking out of the way of an errant dire mole passing on the street. I watched him go, trying to quash the queasiness in my gut. There was no helping it. This barrier between me and the family Id grown so close to. It was just the way things were now.


    ----


    A servant greeted me at the door, taking my belongings and peeling off my coat. He confirmed that there hadnt been any letters. That was disappointing, but to be expected.


    Id been writing to my mother and sisters for a few months now. It was a big step. When I first came to the enclave, some part of me had been frightened of communicating with them. In my mind, the possibility that they were alive seemed a tentative one, and acting as if they were without seeing them first felt like hubris. But fear meant something entirely different now than it did then, so I had picked up a pen and begun to write.


    There were never any responses, of courseI was sure my father was taking a hardline stance when it came to any potential leaks of information to an enemy faction, but I hoped they at least read them.


    I thanked the butler absentmindedly and headed to my room.


    The last six months had flown by.


    My time in Ralakoss estate was lonely, but pleasant enough. Ralakos was constantly busy with council matters and dealing with the fallout from Ephiras disappearance, which meant I saw him less than I had before Id lived in his home.


    I filled my time the only way I knew how. Obsessive studying and practicing. Habits once foreign and laughable to me had become my universal constants. Even though Id long since given up the sleepless nights, the days started early and ended late, often leaving me with the feeling of waking the moment my head hit the pillow.


    My demonic was getting better. I was hardly fluent, but I could understand most simple sentences, though innuendo and double-meaning were often lost on me, much to Vogrins irritation. My magic was stronger, but my spell work was still behind where it should have been for an infernal my age. The constant business was therapeutic in a way. Staying focused helped fill the void and occupy all conscious thought, preventing my mind from wandering to places it was best to stay clear of.


    For the most part, the intentional business worked. The flashes of pain and torture no longer plagued me during the day. There was, however, nothing I could do about the dreams that came to me at night.


    I removed my shirt and bandages and looked over myself in the mirror. The growth-spurt that had marked my later teen years had inexplicably arrived early. I was lanky for the first time in my life.


    But that was hardly the most significant change. Jagged demonic scrawl that stretched up my arms and across my chest in angry looking black text. It covered much of my body now. The inscription process was painful and hideously slow. The more inscriptions you had, the more likely it was to cause some sort of soul-imbalance, leading to all sorts of particularly nasty outcomes. Akios, my inscriberthe same one that had originally worked on the suicide inscriptionmade me come up with a list of everything I wanted before he even began to work. After that, Id been under the knife every two-weeks, like clockwork.


    I traced the text near the center of my chest, probing my most recent addition for pain or discomfort, any sign of infection. Id gone back and forth on whether I wanted the kill switch: the way it had become almost automatic under duress during the worst of the previous loop weighed heavy on my mind.


    Rather than forgo it entirely, I opted for a compromise, a modified version of the original design I had broached. It wasnt all that different, but slightly harder to activate, not unlike a crossbow trigger with a heavier pull.


    Hopefully, that would be enough.


    I discussed the afternoons training session with Vogrin. He kept it constructive, but it was clear he wasnt happy with me, with us. Hed made his feelings known on the topic on more than a few occasions: The sanctum was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I needed to be using my increased power and position to insert myself into a group that was stronger and more experienced.


    Despite understanding where he was coming from, I couldnt have disagreed with him more. Trust was paramount. Now more than ever. Jorra might have been somewhat immature and occasionally surly, but he had my back. And despite only knowing her a short time, I felt I understood Bell. Even the entertaining the idea of ditching them for another group felt wrong.


    There was a sharp rap at my door. The butlers voice called out Young master, you have a guest.


    Just a minute. I threw on a shirt. That was unexpected. The timing was strange. I didnt have many guests these days.


    I opened the door. There was a blur of movement, and someone tackled me in a hug. I tensed in a moment of fight or flight before a familiar scent caught my nose, and the panic faded entirely.


    Dont you have a family dinner to get to? I asked gently.


    You kept them safe. Maya said. Her voice was muffled, face buried in my chest. I am so sorry I was not here. They told me. You kept them safe.


    My breath hitched and my vision swam in a well of emotion that I only just managed to push back down. I hugged her back.


    I did.

 Chapter 77: Sanctum II

    Chapter 77: Sanctum II


    I did. After that, I was at a loss for words.


    We parted, and Maya stepped back. She had changed much in the year away. Her dark hair had grown out to shoulder-length and was allowed to hang freely, accented by a simple loop that tied the edges back to the middle in a knot. She was taller. There was a small sliver sized scar at her cheek. But the most notable change was the way she carried herself. The air of nervousness that had colored her mannerisms and speech patterns was gone, replaced with the easygoing confidence of a person who had proven themselves.


    You look good, I said, noting in amusement as her tail twitched up towards her wrist, then away, diverting course at the last moment.


    She snorted. I am not used to having to look up at you.


    I tilted my head up and looked down my nose. Yes, everything looks so small from up here.


    Uh huh. Keep rubbing it in and Ill shorten your femurs. Maya laughed, then her face grew solemn as she looked over the inscriptions. I see you did not heed my advice.


    Guiltily, I ducked my head. What advice was that?


    To stay away from inscription magic.


    Its... I paused. Id done my research. There was some risk to what I was doing, yes. It was the sort of thing that could potentially come back to bite a magician if overtaxed. But the primary concern from inscription magic was magicians who used it to repeatedly cast high-level, difficult spells the soul was not prepared for. That was not my intent. When selecting my inscriptions, only concerns had been practicality and utility. I needed to be able to improvise on the fly, to worm my way out of difficult situations on instinct.


    It was good advice. I tried again. But things have changed slightly since you left.


    Yes. Maya gave me a look that told me this wasnt the end to the discussion. Tell me everything.


    I kept it as close to the truth as I was able. The second awakening. That I had a vision warning me of Ephira and the asmodials. How, with Nethtaris help, I had negotiated with them, and used Ephiras duplicity to trap her. That Id allowed Ephira to be killed.


    Maya absorbed that in her typical, thoughtful fashion. There was no feeling of judgement or disappointment from her. It was like she was puzzling over a problem.


    You are leaving things out, she said.


    A bit, I admitted.


    Are they things that you cannot speak of, of will not speak of? Maya cocked her head.


    Mostly the former, I said.


    It stung not being able to tell her the whole story, but to be fair, Im not sure if I would have wanted to. Especially considering the events of the attack itself and the coinciding story of my second awakening. That was too deep, too raw, even now.


    The only thing I left out was the cost. The deal I had struck with Ozra. As far as I was concerned, that didnt affect her. Or anyone really. I was reminded of what the arch-fiend had said about the existential elements of knowing your soul was damned. I had to imagine that extended to the people around me to some extent. Laying that weight at the feet of people who cared for you just seemed...Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Cruel.


    How long are you here for? I asked, changing the topic.


    A day. I had planned to come home earlier, but we were pushing outward into the less explored regions.


    Maya told me tales of the sanctum. Exploration, battles. Her team was talented and well put together, and they had plans to push further out after taking some time to restock and train. The sanctum was more dangerous than in recent years, various creatures and fauna more overtly hostile than they previously had been.


    Oh, and of course, the prize. Maya reached in her bag, hand first, then down to her shoulder, face a mask of focus as she blindly fumbled for what she was looking for. She fished a silver object out and shoved it into my hand.


    It was a silver bangle with crimson inlays in the form of demonic text. I ran my fingers over it, trying to work out the meaning. Movement? No... shift? Shifting... shifting of what? I looked up.


    Your demonic is solid, considering how long it has been. She pointed at a word Id missed. It means shifting of earth, Maya said, her voice excited.


    Um. Its an earth magic augment? I tried.


    It can detect shifting in the plates beneath the sanctum.


    I finally got it. Meaning you get a heads-up if a section is about to close or open.


    And the range is incredible. Maya was almost jumping up and down. It gives us a huge head start in general. The strongest artifacts come out of those passages, Cairn. I could find something to help us. Maybe even discover an area of the sanctum that hasnt been seen for thousands of years.


    My outlook darkened as I thought back to the diamond scepter. Yes, I knew all too well exactly how powerful the artifacts from the sanctum could be.


    I did so, and nearly jumped with the flame inexplicably spread up the blade. It didnt burn quite as brightly as the rose oil hadbut it was more controllable. I banished the flame and it disappeared completely, leaving long outlining patterns on the blade that still glowed purple, cooling down from the heat. I channeled it once more, and it roared to life, then banished it again.


    What... is this? I asked.


    Cost a fortune. Persephone rolled her eyes. Custom ordered from a master smith, cagey on the details. One of a pair. I suspect you know who has the other.


    Bacchus. It made sense his mother wouldnt send him into the sanctum without arming him properly.


    Why give me this? I asked.


    Who knows. Perhaps I just had a spare and was feeling generous.


    Uh huh, I said. Youve always struck me as the generous sort. Almost charitable.


    Youre terribly rude. Persephone went to her desk, her back to me, but I saw the hint of a smile on her face. Fine. It is what it is. My lot has been thrown in with you and Ralakos. I am invested in your survival.


    Still not the truth, but closer.


    Speaking of which, she pulled a small transparent marble out of the desk and tossed it to me.


    I caught it. And this?


    If youre ever in a situation that is insurmountable, throw it on the ground and stomp on it. Then run, Persephone said.


    That was alarmingly vague. Run from the situation? Or run from whatever comes out of the marble?


    The situation, of course, Persephone said. But I saw the way her eyes shifted to the side.


    Any particular reason youre not specifying? I asked.


    Yes. And that was all she was going to give me. I had a feeling whatever I was holding in my hands was highly illegal. I made a mental note and placed it in my satchel. Gently.


    Thank you for the gifts. I bowed to her, and she returned the gesture. She sent me on my way in the direction of one of her merchants, who traded with me at a significant discount. Rope. Chalk to mark passages. Mana-compressed rations.


    ----


    I woke up, sweating and sick to my stomach. It was pitch black in the room. Tentatively, I reached up to feel at my left eye, making sure it was still there, only allowing myself to breathe when I found it, whole and unbloodied.


    It was a little after four when I gave up trying to go back to sleep and gathered my things, strapped on my armor, and headed out in the direction of the lifts.


    To my surprise, a few other infernals my age had already gathered under the soft glow of the auric moon. Several heads turned my way. A few of them nodded. They had likely been told Id be departing with them. The first human to set foot in the sanctum in hundreds of years was big news.


    I spotted Bell, sitting close to the edge on an upright suitcase, her sheathed sword poking into the pavement.


    Couldnt sleep? I sat down beside her.


    Bell started, and the haunted look was quickly replaced with a crooked smile. I kept packing and repacking, making sure I had everything. Then my mind just wouldnt slow down.


    Same.


    There was a thump. We both jumped. Jorra had set down a massive oversized rucksack. His head stuck out over the top of it.


    I looked at him doubtfully. Is there anything you didnt pack?


    He stared at the giant bag. Im gonna be pissed if there is.


    The group waited in silence. No one spoke, outside the occasional whisper. We all knew what we were there for. I ran over the objectives in my mind, one final time.


    Use the ambient mana of the sanctum and its resources to continue building my magic. Locate someone who could teach me the flame so I could open the dimensional gate. Find Morthus.


    Get answers.

 Chapter 78: Sanctum III

    Chapter 78: Sanctum III


    There was the issue of image, of course. It would send the wrong message if I walked around, offering food, and given my status and situation such gifts would likely be rejected.


    Instead, I sat the bucket down with a weighty thump, plopped down with Jorra and Bellarex and began to eat, effectively having a picnic in a throng of hungry faces. The bread and roe were left out in the open where anyone could reach them. Stomachs rumbled and eyes wandered. Perhaps it was pride, but it took longer than I expected for them to break.


    A small infernal with an overly boyish face was the first. He grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He walked over to us, reaching in his pocket to pull out a clinking bag.


    Whats your name? I interjected suddenly, throwing him off balance.


    Oh, uh, Thythor, your grace.


    Greetings, Thythor, I said. No need for titles. Were a long way from Whitefall. Would you be willing to do me a favor?


    What sort of favor? His voice wobbled. It was clear he was hungry, but nervous speaking in front of a large, nearly silent audience.


    My friend and I made a bit of a miscalculation, I said. Jorra hid a smile. Were both victims of mercantile cunning of the most devilish sort. The baker was in dire straits. Practically foisted this burdensome collection of bread onto him. And I realized, in my haste, I had forgotten a critical component. A bucket.


    There was a single snort near the back of the group.


    I continued. The fishmonger, divining my situation, took brutal advantage of me, refusing to sell what I needed unless I allowed him to fill it with roe and pay the difference.


    Thythor seemed to understand that the joke I was making was not at his expense. That sounds like a problem.


    Indeed.


    A few snickers sounded out. At the edge of my vision, Bellarexs shoulders were shaking in barely withheld laughter.


    Thythor helped himself to a piece of bread larger than his hand and tore it open, stooping down to fill it with the glistening orange eggs from the bucket.


    Ah. A solution presents itself, I said. And then the levy broke. One by one, the once silent infernals approached, helping themselves to breakfast and alleviating my burden. Thythors group was first. He introduced the large boy with overdeveloped horns as Aranxus, and an infernal with a girlish braid as Spira. I talked to them briefly before they were replaced by the next group.


    Mistish and Yora came next, a pair of sisters who introduced themselves to be earth magicians, likely from a wealthy family based on the quality of their gear and the lofty way they held themselves.


    The next group was all male, all violet; Dharvir, Mavrus, and Briseis. Dharvir had a smug smile on his face, as if he wanted me to know he had seen through my little charade and appreciated it. Mavrus and Briseis just looked happy to eat.


    A half-dozen others followed, and I learned their names and a little about their backgrounds.


    The quiet, nervous tension of the group had broken. They mingled. Occasional sharp outbursts of laughter were followed by equally amused shushes and glances towards nearby houses with darkened windows.


    Before we knew it, the sun had risen.


    The departing group was much larger than the one Maya had left with. Mayas group was one of the many smaller departures that took place after the primary expeditions, while the timing of mine had coincided with the primary expedition itself. A noisy thrall of parents and loved ones giving last-minute advice to their children gave the scene a manic buzz.


    Bellarex and I stood alone nearest the platform, watching the affairs quietly.


    Jorra embraced Nethtari and Kilvius simultaneously. He smiled and said something I couldnt make out, then when Maya had left, then ruffled the hair on Agarins head, hair once wispy and sparse that had grown thick in my absence. There was a strange ache that came from the sight. It was the first time Id seen them all together since Id quietly packed my things and moved into Ralakoss estate. Like seeing an artists rendition of a moment that had meant one thing when it was captured, and now meant something else entirely.


    Jorras lucky, Bell said. I barely heard her over the noise of the crowd.Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Yes. He is. I answered.


    There was a sharp whistle that dampened the noise. The guard operating the lift lowered two fingers from his mouth and gestured towards it in the universal sign to get a move on. Bellarex grabbed her single suitcase and headed towards the lift, ready and eager.


    There was a silent journey through the caves that reminded me of the Twilight Chambers, following lanterns mounted on walls that burned with a dull green light. My ears popped several times, despite the absence of any real change of elevation. My skin itched. I wasnt the only one. I saw several of the accompanying infernals rubbing their arms, one bending down to massage her calf as if to awaken it from sleep.


    It took a while to recognize the sensation as an amplified version of what I felt when I was meditating to recoup mana. Only instead of having to focus to gather it, it flowed like the white rapids of a river, dashing against me, drowning me. My head began to pound.


    One of our escorts called a halt. He retreated a few yards back into the passage to vomit and returned looking pale. It seemed to affect the adults and conservatorsstudents of the sanctum who had reached their final two yearsthe most.


    I placed my hand against the wall and doubled over slightly, gritting my teeth. Jorra took a half-step towards me and stopped to pant with his hands on his knees. Bellarex looked fine, almost confused, like she couldnt understand what the problem was.


    Someone placed a hand on my chest and another on the small of my back, forcing me to stand upright. I recognized the face. Irtek, the conservator who had met us at the mouth of the tunnel. He had the stuffy look of an accountant.


    Stand up. His voice was quiet and sympathetic, almost feminine. You want to make sure your channels are open and unobstructed as they expand. Wouldnt want to get stuck like that.


    I had no idea whether that was a joke. But I followed his instructions, unable to speak, unable to fully catch my breath.


    In through your nose, out through your mouth. He demonstrated with practiced flair.


    Why is she okay? Jorra pointed at Bellarex. He had straightened himself up, though he was still cowed at the neck. Irtek moved on from me to him, correcting his posture.


    Why is she okay? Irtek cocked his head and walked over to Bellarex. Hey, you! When Bellarex didnt immediately respond he poked her once in the side. She shied away from him, eyes wide. Youre not one of those, are you? The ones that seem fine but randomly pass out and slip into a chasm?


    Again, I hoped he was joking.


    Voidling. One of our fellow travelers huffed out in disdain.


    Ah, Irtek said. Then you will do well now and have problems later. Well talk when we arrive at the heart. There are things you should know to expect.


    Wait what? Bell said. Why didnt anyone tell me this before? What affects void differently in the sanctum? What problems? She sounded fascinated, rather than concerned.


    Later. Irtek jutted a finger at her in warning.


    Bell took a tentative step away from him and behind Jorra, as if to ward off any future prodding. Irtek moved on to the others, doing for them what he had done for me.


    I dont like him, Bell whispered loudly enough that she was undoubtedly heard.


    The guards left us soon after, having gone as far as they could travel safely. We emerged as if coming out of the mouth of a cave. My first thought was that we had. That wed taken a wrong turn somewhere and somehow ended up on the surface. White clouds covered the sky above and endless rolling grassland extended out before us.


    But the landscape wasnt quite right. There were few trees, the ones that existed were gnarled and barren, growing out at strange angles, traveling up for a few feet before jutting sideways or even looping back down.


    I crouched and plucked a blade of grass. The hue wasnt green; it was closer to blue, the slight breeze and hilly terrain giving the appearance of a frozen, shimmering sea.


    Wow, Bell said, voice tinged with awe. She was looking up at the clouds, thousands of feet above. A patch had opened, revealing a canopy of rock that was quickly covered by what I slowly came to understand as not clouds, but a thick fog. The fog seemed to stretch downward towards the horizon, shrouding the view miles away from sight.


    Wheres the light coming from? Jorra said, scanning the dome.


    I chuckled. The sanctum had been shrouded in secrecy since Id arrived. Yet Casikas had chattered on constantly about the uniqueness of the vegetation, used adjectives like beautiful and exquisite, and I had puzzled over it, wondering how a cave could even approach that description. It was something that had to be seen. And now, having seen it, the name felt all too fitting. It was a sacred place.


    There was a pop and a hiss. I spun around, following the turning heads. I didnt spot it at first, still disoriented from the change in scenery. When I finally saw it, my heart sank. The entrance within the mountain of rock we emerged from was covered with a thin orange film that pulsed malevolently.


    Irtek pushed his way through the group and hurried over to it. But before he even approached, before he turned to us, face grim, and told us to hurry on our way, I knew the truth. The way was barred.


    And the blessed silence of the sanctum was shattered as my ears began to ring.

 Chapter 79: Sanctum IV

    Chapter 79: Sanctum IV


    Instead, I needed to think, to analyze. The ringing in my ears faded as quickly as it had appeared. Either Thoth wanted me to know she was here or she had simply slipped. I wasnt nearly enough of a fool to believe it was the former.


    I reached for Vogrin, drawing on the ambient mana of the sanctum and feeling the power flood mebut I stopped myself short of summoning him. The barrier had activated shortly after we had entered. The events that had led to my acquisition of a greater demon were practically unknown. Assuming Thoth knew everything was short-sighted. She knew much, but assuming omniscience was little more than folly. In the all-too-likely possibility we were still being watched, the last thing I wanted to do this early was tip my hand.


    Rather than call him forth, I tilted my head down, so my soft voice carried towards the amulet. Vogrin. Did you feel that? Something like an aura?


    The amulet pulsed with a single surge of heat. Yes.


    Thats her. Any chance you could track her from that initial contact? I asked.


    The response was slower this time. Cold. Hesitant no.


    But youd know what to look for from her mana signature? Same as you did with Bacchus?


    Yes.


    Good. I left him be. Jorra had taken his place beside me, angling so he was facing the opposite direction of Bell, manner so casual he could have been looking to simply take in the scenery. Bells easygoing expression was banished, her shoulders set slight forward, eyes sliding across the landscape in quick horizontal patterns, looking for any aberration or movement.


    It had been the right decision to warn them, all those months ago. To tell them who I was up against and that it was entirely possible we would run into her. To have that possibility color every practice session, every meditation.


    The look on your face could frighten children, Jorra commented over his shoulder.


    What do I look like? I asked, only half-paying attention to the response.


    Scary, Bell said.


    Like were not the ones who just stumbled into the trap, Jorra said.


    ----


    The mood at the Heart was one of barely restrained panic. People milled through the camp, teenagers, conservators, and few elders moving in patterns not unlike pacing, stopping every so often to look towards the sealed passage in the distance, though it was too far to see, as if wanting to be ready for the moment the forcefield lifted.


    The Heart itself reminded me of one of my fathers siege camps. Sprawling and massive with tents and plywood, but ultimately flat, with a temporary air that overtook the area itself.


    Jorra and Bellarex left to grab our spots in the barracks while I walked around the periphery of the camp, looking for Maya.


    An older infernalmy initial guess putting him around nineteenwas rushed passed me on a stretcher. He moaned, head tilted down to look at his arm. Or where his arm used to be, at least: the appendage had been, lacking a better word, unraveled, strings of flesh and putrefied bone dangling from his forearm down like the tendrils of a jellyfish.


    The hells happened to him? I asked aloud to no one in particular.


    Hes an aegis breaker, a voice said to my left. Another older boy. He had the thin, gaunt sort of face that artists favor, features that would normally pass as conventionally attractive now looked hollowed out and haunted. He reached to brush a tuft of hair out of his forehead and left a streak of blood across his brow. I noticed, belatedly, that he was covered in it.


    Sirxes had passed out on the medical cot, his expression almost passing for peaceful had it not been for his labored, shuddering breaths. Maya passed me a bowl with a damp cloth draped over the side.


    Keep his forehead cool. I dont like how hot hes running, Maya said.


    I obliged, positioning myself on the opposite side of the cot from the injured arm, giving Maya as much space as possible, watching, fascinated as she strung the gory mess that had once been an arm back together into something that almost resembled one. Tiny strings that literally tied flesh together glowed green as she channeled mana through them, eventually fading, leaving checker-boarded flesh that looked unhealthy and abused, but ultimately whole. The hand, however, was still a ruined mess. Maya picked up his arm and shifted it.


    Lord below, Maya muttered. Practically no bone to work with. I remembered back to the time shed had to physically set my arm, unable to rely on her powers to do it. Bone seemed to be a limiting factor.


    Probably intentional. I mused aloud.


    What? Mayas head snapped up. This is horrible. Who would do this intentionally? It was the first time her clinical dispassion had broken, and she showed any emotion reaction to the injury.


    I brought her up to speed, mind still racing as I finished my theory.


    From anyone else, I would assume paranoia, but


    Yeah. I said.


    Well, this is the most that I can do, for now. The arm is one thing, but I dont trust myself to get a complicated restructure of the hand right with this little material to build from. Maya didnt bother trying to hide her anger. She really intends to dog you at every turn. For someone with such large-scale goals, she is certainly petty.


    I shook my head. Im not sure if thats right. Ive had some time to think about it. Thoth didnt bother with the enclave. She set herself up to be positioned to take it, sans interference, but in the end, she let it go. If shes been waiting, I have to assume its for another reason.


    And that reason is? Maya asked.


    Thats what I need to find out. I looked over to the infernal laid out on the cot. His breathing seemed steadier than before. Perhaps whatever anesthetic he had been given was finally kicking in. Any chance I can talk to him?


    Hes stable, but its not a good idea. I thought that would be the end of it, but to my surprise, Maya reached up towards his neck, her fingers glowing. Which means we need to do it now. Before the medical conservator gets back.


    ----


    When I went out to check, Zorros was still waiting outside, arms crossed, chewing on the black nail of his index finger. The nail looked well-worn and dented, as if it was a frequent habit of his. He murmured a quiet thanks as I brought him in and sat on the other side of his fellow, hand on the other boys good arm.


    Sirxes tried to answer questions. He was clearly distracted, gaze flickering time and time again to the oversized bandage that covered his ruined hand.


    I questioned him quickly, trying to keep his focus on me rather than the fact that he could no longer move or feel his fingers. The forcefield was complex, but simple enough that it could be powered for quite some time. The mana battery could be practically anywhere, though the further away it was, the less power efficient the connection would be. When I asked him where he would place such a source, he grimly commented that the most ideal place would be nearbyhundreds of feet underground. The purpose and construction of the forcefield was simple, it was the secondary attributes that were insidious. Some sort dampening void effect that specifically targeted earth magic, making tunneling around or under it practically impossible.


    When I asked him how long something like that could realistically be sustained, his answer was as grim as it was brief. Depending on the power source, almost indefinitely. The construction of the spell itself coming unraveled would become a problem before running out of power did, and that could take ten years. Knowing that it was likely Thoth, I mentally doubled that number. There were other entrances to the sanctum from neighboring cloisters, but the path to those was fraught with danger and treacherous at best, impassable at worst.


    Perhaps I was overreacting and the barrier would be gone in a day or two, but somehow I doubted it. This situation felt engineered to go sideways. I needed to know why Thoth was here. But more importantly, I needed to start planning for the immediate future. The conversation lasted less than an hour before a voice boomed out, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once.


    Children of the sanctum. Congratulations. You have the unique opportunity to rectify the sins of your fathers.

 Chapter 80: Sanctum V

    Chapter 80: Sanctum V


    Bellarex had selected the cot between us, Jorra and I set on either end as sort of an unspoken rule. She could take care of herself, but I understood why things had gone in this direction. Better to be safe than sorry.


    Jorra was in the process of unpacking his bag when I stopped him, shook my head.


    I was hoping to get everything set before dinner, he said, and as if on cue his stomach rumbled mournfully.


    Trust me, I kept my voice low, I dont think well be here for that long.


    Did you know this was going to happen? Bell asked. She was watching me from where shed perched on her cot, bag left unopened, and I couldnt help but feel evaluated. I shared an uncomfortable look with Jorra. Im not stupid, just not rude enough to ask. The way the two of you talk sometimes makes it obvious. She pointed at me. Hes a seer, or a dream-spinner, or something of the sort.


    I sighed. So much for limiting the spread of that particular bit of information. Its not consistent. Sometimes I get early warnings, is all. Its not something we can rely on, and it doesnt happen every time. Bell opened her mouth, and I held up a hand to silence the dozens of questions that were about to come firing out. Ill tell you more later.


    Looking around us to check that no one was paying too much attention, I summoned Vogrin. To my surprise, he did not manifest himself in the traditional manner. I almost thought the summoning had failed before I noticed an infernal with strangely pale skin standing next to the tent wall, a strap of cloth tied around his eyes.


    Jorra followed my eye-line and jumped. Holy shit.


    You wanted to avoid drawing attention to me. Vogrin said, his voice dry.


    Do you think he can break through the barrier? Bell asked, shifting to face the new arrival.


    I cannot, Vogrin said. Even if I was still connected to my prior benefactor. I suspect he intends to use me to contact the outside world.


    I frowned. Vogrin had done this before. Predicted what Id say before I said it. Wed need to talk at some point if he was just excellent at extrapolating from limited information, or if he was psychically reading me. The latter would present a serious problem. For now, I let it go.


    Can you get a message out? To him? I was hesitant to refer to Ozra by name.


    I am capable of it, yes, though it will take some time. The question is whether I will.


    Will you, then? I asked, irritated.


    Vogrins head tilted towards Bell and Jorra, who looked lost, then to me. My position is a tenuous one I would prefer not to worsen. If we have definitive confirmation that she is here, then I am happy to take steps towards contacting our mutual friend. But so far, we have nothing. No confirmation that your Thoth is actually within the sanctum herself. Just the briefest impression an arch-mage. Vogrin frowned. An especially powerful one, but an arch-mage just the same.


    So if Cairn gets confirmation his friend is here, that will solve the problem? Bell asked, happily taking the vague hypothetical in stride.


    Jorra was not so practical. He leaned over to whisper in my ear. The hells did you do? Befriend a fiend?


    I kept my reaction in check. Fine. We keep an eye out for Thoth. How long will it take to get backup?


    Vogrin put a hand to his chin. The sanctum creates communication issues. Theres a reason the leadership hasnt already called upstairs for aid. There are... He paused, as if deciding how much to divulge, asmodials within the sanctum itself. Allied forces with alternate means of communicating with leadership. But getting to them will not be easy.


    Where are they? I asked. Some part of me already knew the answer, the image of the warring demons in the abyss flashing in my mind from that lunch with Ephira, so long ago,


    The shallows, he answered, confirming my fears.


    Wait. Jorra paced back and forth for a second. How long will it take them to realize that were stuck down here and cut off?


    There are primary expeditions every month, Bell said, Smaller groups coming and going every couple of weeks.


    Meaning, in the best case, youre looking at fourteen days of being stuck down here before someone upstairs takes notice. Vogrin said. It did not escape me how he had not lumped himself in with the rest of us.


    Thats not so bad, Bell said, looking around for affirmation.


    I disagreed. There was a lot someone as powerful and resourceful as Thoth could do with only a few days. Not to mention, if this was her, it was the closest wed ever come to direct confrontation. She graduated from haunting the fringes to direct sabotage. But why?


    I dove forwards, expending the last of the mana within my inscriptions, closing the distance in seconds. I unsheathed my sword and ignited it, driving it downward in an overhanded arc, the violet fire so bright it left an after-image in my vision.


    She blocked the strike with a single dagger, her mouth twisted into a sneer. But I was already rotating, leveraging myself, spinning, trying to shroud my next movement in a whirlwind of motion before I came up again, under her guard, driving my dagger towards her face.


    Thoth caught it with her free hand. The blade was stopped between her thumb and two fingers, millimeters from her face.


    No. Not millimeters. A single drop of blood trickled down from her cheek where the knife had been stopped. Her smile slackened, slightly.


    Enough.


    The sword-breaker shattered between her fingers. Before the fragments had even hit the ground, her fist blurred. I didnt feel the impact at first. It was like I was a puppet, and someone had cut every string except for the one that held my head, sending my body drunkenly pirouetting into the grass.


    My jaw felt like it was on fire. In the disorientation, through blurred eyes, I found myself almost offended by the blas nature of the blow. A simple extension of her arm. No wind up. No visible effort. A carefree jab that sent me careening to the ground.


    But Id nicked her. That meant


    Her boot came into focus. She crouched down to look at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair.


    The more things change, the more they stay the same, Thoth leered down at me. Well, thats not your fault, I suppose. Ill do you a favor. It might be time to expand your repertoire, little prince. Poison is so predictable.


    It had been a long shot. Id only half expected to get as far as I had. But still, as she cast a sickly green light, and I watched the clear fluid trail away from her in a weightless stream, I couldnt help but feel angry.


    Doesnt this all feel so delightfully familiar. Thoth said. You, at my mercy, once again.


    Cairn! Someone called my name. Thoth stood up casually, peeked around the rise.


    Your friends are coming. Those poor saps you always seem to pull into your orbit. We should let them know what theyre signing up for. Which one of them should I kill? She asked me, as casually as someone might inquire between two sets of clothing.


    Fuck you. I prepared to trigger the kill switch.


    Thoth slapped me across the face, dismantling my concentration, and leaned down to whisper in my ear. No. Ive already done enough. Ill let you bear that weight. Youll get them killed by the end of this. Or youll make them into monsters. Slaughterers of their friends and loved ones. Turning friend against friend. Family against family. Something you do all too well.


    I wanted to ask why. To demand an explanation. But I knew I wouldnt get an answer. It had finally become clear that Thoth wasnt a person. She was a force of nature that had to be stopped by any means necessary.


    She stepped away from me. A single tendril of her white hair had slipped in front of her face and stuck to her forehead. She was covered in sweat. Was she sick? A latent effect of the poison, maybe?


    A follower of mine will be hunting you. He does not share my patience, nor my proclivities. Be on your guard. It was a warning. Another contradiction. Why? Some sort of internal power play?


    Thoth reached beside her, and tore a hole in the air, establishing a portal. She smiled that haunting smile and stepped through, portal and monster disappearing just as Jorra crested the rock, panting heavily. Spotting no danger, he sagged against the alcove, catching his breath.


    Okay. So youve clearly been sandbagging during training He panted out, likely referring to catch and capture drills wed been running. It wasnt entirely true. Id pushed myself hard with them, but never to the limit. Inscription magic wasnt something I wanted to push to the breaking point, until I had a better grasp on my soul, not unless it was for something like this.


    Bellarex sprinted passed us, throwing me a cursory glance, then spreading out to check the perimeter, face impassive, fully in the moment.


    Vogrin reappeared. His jaw worked silently before he spoke. She is magnificent, he finally said.


    You caught all that? I muttered.


    Every word. Our benefactor will be what are you doing?


    I leafed through the cerulean grass on my hands and knees. My jaw ached with the effort. One by one I found the pieces of my broken dagger. There was a sudden sense of loss, as I realized, with my new sword, this was the last piece of equipment Id selected with Cephur. But it was not a sacrifice in vain. There was enough of it left attached to the hilt to serve in an emergency, but I would need to replace it soon. The point of the blade was nowhere to be found. But the middle section, the section that had cut Thoths cheek, was what I wanted.


    I raised it up to the strange, eternal ambient light of the sanctum. A pinprick of red had dried to the dull, dark blade. Grimly, I held it out to Vogrin. Can you track her with this?


    He smiled wickedly. I believe that will suffice.

 Chapter 81: Sanctum VI

    Chapter 81: Sanctum VI


    I limped back to camp. Jorra had wanted to quietly sneak back in with Bell, gather our things, and leave without me showing my face, but this felt important somehow. They needed to know that I was with them. That I was on their side. There was no doubt that some of them would come after me. Likely sooner than later. But running at the first sign of adversity was practically asking to be pursued.


    Or at least, that had been the logic. With the number of eyes and undercurrent of hostility I was beginning to wonder how wise returning to the heart had actually been. Jorra rather loudlystruck up a conversation with Bell on how I had pursued the culprit, and had been the only one to act.


    It was a bit too antagonistic, but I understood his need to fill the silence. Things were tense, and it wouldnt take much to set off everything in a direction we could not come back from.


    The conservator that had been standing guard earlier took me from Jorra and helped me into the medical tent. The older life magician whod been absent earlier had returned, and began cataloguing my injuries. Despite being only a few years older than me, she had a motherly air, and to my relief, didnt seem hostile in the slightest. She did grill me on details on the rogue arch-mage, and I was happy to give what details I could manage. She fixed the damage to my jaw and told me I was lucky I hadnt lost any teeth, then presented me with a simple potion. I sniffed it experimentally and recognized the mix of herbs, a particularly potent anesthetic.


    I took half, and felt my body relax. Within a few minutes I drifted into an almost meditative state. The things that Thoth had said, things that I had all but ignored, clawed at my mind, teasing possibilities I didnt want to face.


    Id lived my first life as a fool. That was clear enough. Id been completely apathetic of the plight of those below my station and selfish. It wasnt beyond the pale to understand why someone might want to kill me in the process of overthrowing the kingdom. These things were not unheard of. A spoiled noble put to the sword as a symbol. You couldnt just let the children go, as my father had so memorably stated.


    But Thoths hatred for me went beyond that. Beyond all reasonable measure. Out of everything Id done in my previous life, I couldnt think of a single reasonand Id spent months racking my mindanyone would want to wound me personally.


    So, Why?


    A theory began to form, as difficult to grasp as it was horrible. Thoth remembered our previous life. I remembered our previous life. But who was to say it was the first time things had reset? The things she said implied the sort of experience that came over several lifetimes, not just one. And if that was true, if she retained all her memories, what the hells had I done to make her hate me so much?


    And perhaps more importantly, if she died, did things roll back for her as well? If that was true, it wouldnt be a question of getting lucky and out maneuvering her once. How could I possibly hope to defeat her? That was too overwhelming to even think about. I mentally added the note to my ever-growing list to look more deeply into the subject of time magic. It hadnt occurred to me since the Everwood, really.


    A hand touched my leg. I started. Mayas face dipped into my vision, mouth set and grim. I take my eye off you for one moment, and you are already injured.


    Maybe it was the drugs talking, but I couldnt distance myself the way I had in Ralakoss estate. The words just tumbled out. I missed you, Maya.


    Maya blinked, looked away. And here I thought you had outgrown me. What, with your councilor friends with their fancy houses and your adorable void magicians.


    Experience told me there was some subtext there, but I was too medicated to pick up on subtle social complexities. I laughed a bit too loud. No. You were my first friend. Its impossible to be demoted from that position.


    Maya hesitated. You never told me that.


    I hadnt?


    Thats embarrassing. I felt myself turning red. It was made more awkward by the fact that it was true. Across both lives. Id had other friends, but the delineation between Maya and them was important. Some had left me at the first sign of adversity. Most had left for what felt like no reason at all. Despite what felt like a never-ending trail of obstacles, Maya was still here. That felt important, somehow.


    While you were gone. Even when things were darkest. And gods did things get... dark. I squeezed my eyes shut, banishing the images that bubbled up. A hand clasped mine, banishing them away. Somehow, I managed to finish. Even mired in all that, the thought of seeing you again, it stayed with me. Kept me going. A moment of clarity bubbled up and my mind cleared temporarily from the anesthetized state. Elphion. Sorry, Im saying too much-


    Maya placed her forehead against mine, silencing me. It was the same for me, Nilend. She looked as if she might say something more.


    Vogrin cleared his throat. Maya jerked away from me, as if burned, her cheeks coloring.


    Sorry to spoil the moment, but I assume youll want to hear this. Vogrin didnt sound the least bit apologetic. He floated over to my bedside in my demonic form, and looked between the two of us curiously.


    Go ahead. I told him, willing him to get on with it.


    Thoth is on the move, making excellent time. She seems to be teleporting. Not unexpected, for a magician of her caliberthough the sheer distance she is covering would give anyone pause. But more interesting is where shes ended up. He paused as if for dramatic effect, waiting for either of us to ask. When we didnt, he continued on with a scowl. Fine. Shes come to a rest in the Oracles Cradle.


    That was true enough. But still, Thoths words had crept their way into my head. That I would warp everything that I touched. Perhaps it was nothing more than psychological warfare, designed to make me question myself, my use of my allies. That didnt change the fact that it was effective.


    You dont have to, I said. You dont owe me.


    There was a flash of disappointment in her expression, quickly buried under something approaching righteous indignation. What did we talk about? This is not obligation. Its a question of right and wrong.


    I leaned back. But-


    And what of my brother? You expect me to just let you drag him to the outer-reach, well beyond any medical outposts in case things go wrong? I could see her building herself up.


    Okay, okay. I held my hands out flat in surrender. Wed be happy to have you.


    ----


    The next day was spent in preparation. It was important that it didnt look like we were running away from the heart, rather, simply setting off on an expedition to look for the arch-magician that was the source of the problem. The conservators had done their best to restore order, but they could do nothing for the dubious looks, the weight of doubt and fear that hung heavy over the camp.


    But as I had already learned, the infernals were civilized folk. Just because a disembodied voice told them to come after me, to take my head, didnt mean they were going to do it. At least, not immediately. The desperation would come after. In the event the barrier remained after the two-week cutoff. That was when things would get ugly, desperate. There needed to be a solution by then.


    I was, in part, tempted to trigger a reset. But I remembered all too well the way the darkness had pulled at me. Almost swallowing me. It was possible that if I killed myself, I would find myself barred, forever lost in that black ether. Or worse, dragged to hades, arriving at my final resting place. I shuddered. Without knowing how long it took my ability to recover, it simply wasnt an option I could risk.


    And just because we were trying to send a particular image didnt make us fools. Jorra went out and socialized amongst the camp, speaking loudly to vendors about the supplies needed for a supposed route following the coastal hubs and out towards the ruby plains. It was a slight change, but close enough to the route recommended for new entrants in the sanctum.


    This was, of course, disinformation. Our actual path would be completely different.


    Once my mana had recovered, I sent Vogrin out to listen, especially amongst the older infernals. In part, I wanted to know how much time we had. There were a few that were within the month. Most had three to four. I took some solace in that. I had done more with less to work with, up against enemies almost as powerful.


    More importantly, we snagged a lead. I discovered that we werent the only ones looking for Morthus. The conservators were planning to send a group out to search for him in the miasmal pits. It wouldnt be a direct line to the cradle, but it wasnt in the opposite direction either.


    Ready to go? Maya sidled up beside me, checking me with her hip. The staff Id given her was strapped to her back.


    The introspective funk Id fallen into all but subsided.


    I smiled. I think its about that time.


    Did your bag get even heavier? Bellarex called out to Jorra. His bag was open now, combined with another saddlebag that was tied across the top.


    Merchants, Jorra huffed. They drove a hard bargain.


    Packrat. Maya rolled her eyes.


    Jorra looked to me for help. Come on, youre gonna let them gang up on me like this?


    With some effort, I quashed the doubt, the fear. We had trained for this, prepared for it. Thoth being in the mix changed little. It just expedited a confrontation that Id thought would come much further down the line.


    The plan remained mostly unchanged. I still needed to locate Morthus and find someone to teach me the flame. But the immediate priorities had shifted to finding an elder capable of dismantling the barrier, and learning why Thoth had chosen the destination she had. I looked at my companions, and found that I trusted them, no matter the trials ahead.

 Chapter 82: Sanctum VII

    Chapter 82: Sanctum VII


    This was one of the transitional tunnels. The sanctums structure was beyond anything Id ever seen. Massive chambers broken up by bottle-necks that were either equally verdant from that first, staggeringly diverse chamber wed entered, or almost all rock and devoid of life. This was the latter. The rat-lizard menI didnt have time to ask for their official designation before we were under siegewere a new threat. Theyd built up a rickety, shanty like residence in the tunnel, staggering in its verticality, and were about as congenial as your average tolls man. As tribute for passage, they had demanded all our equipment. And Bellarex.


    That wasnt happening.


    The rat pushed in on me, his incisors flashing in the dim light, spear jutting out. Despite their strange, primal appearance, they were no strangers to combat. He had a sense of my range and took advantage of it, darting inwards, and back out before I could tag him, using his rickety shield to block the magic I cast.


    I huffed out in frustration. There were two more approaching on my periphery. I needed to end this quickly.


    When the rat darted in to prod at me once more, I called the spark and lit my sword on fire. He looked at it dumbly, then started to shriek, waving it around, trying to put it out. I stoked the fire and turned towards the others.


    A massive form shot forward over my head. I ducked, instinctually, as Kastramoth came crashing down on one of the two remaining rat men, pinning him to the ground and ripping his arm off, throwing his head back and swallowing it whole.


    He really had a thing for arms.


    But Kastramoth was huge, and the bulk of his weight caused the entire platform to shift. I dove, banishing the flame and driving my sword into the spongey surface, hanging on for dear life.


    Get to the center, you moose-fucking asshole!


    He howled something back at me, probably profane, and began to climb, the rats left behind and forgotten as the primary threat became the flora itself buckling underneath us. I saw Jorra, tumbling in an uncontrolled roll down the floor that had become a wall and stuck my leg out. His whip lashed around my ankle as his full weight was halted, jarring me with a horrible judder that made me feel like something might be dislocated.


    A moment later, I was corrected. Maya came tumbling down after him, and Jorra swung from the whip still fastened around my leg to catch his sister with one arm.


    Pop.


    That was what it felt like when a hip popped out of socket. My eyes rolled back in my head and I nearly let go.


    Ow, I moaned.


    Cairn, you good? Maya asked, looking up at me in concern.


    No!


    Okay, hang in there. Maya said.


    I really, really hoped the pun wasnt intentional.


    Just a few more seconds, Jorra added. Kastramoth and Bell are working on it.


    I looked up, through blinding, glaring pain. Kastramoth was slowly making his way to the top. But what was truly astonishing was Bell. She was sprinting across the cap at an impossible angle, knocking down rats that clung to the lower half, ripping the weapons from others in the higher sections and using them to pin the rats in place, slowly but surely evening out the weight distribution.


    There was no way that was all void magic. At some point, wed need to have a conversation, to see if I could get her to spill on the secrets of literally running up walls. The cap evened out. More rats jumped down from either side of the structure. Jorra was up first. His whip lashed out, seizing a rat around the neck, holding it in place as he threw a massive gout of water into it, sending it tumbling over the side.


    I struggled to my feet but fell, my left leg refusing to budge.


    Damn it.


    Maya snarled, and intercepted an incoming rat. Her staff glowed green. A single strike to the side of its head was all it took. The rat fell, eyes blank.


    Little help? I called out.


    The surface was righting itself, but slowly. Maya slid on her knees to me, panic in her voice. Where is it? She asked. Knee?


    Hip. I murmured the word.


    She slid her staff beneath my lame leg, the top third of her staff nesting right beneath my knee.


    No, hip- I was cut off as she yanked outward with the staff, my hip clicking painfully back into place. Elphion thats a bitch!


    Breathe, Maya said. Her hand glowed green and the pain receded, if only for a moment. A rat jumped down from an overhead suspension and ran towards us, spear held over its head. I channeled a gust of air and cut its legs out from underneath it. The rat went down a few feet from Maya.


    The platform was still at a sharp angle, though not nearly as sharp as before. I didnt trust my still unsteady footing with an underhanded blow. Instead, I raced towards the rat and kicked out. The toe of my boot connected with its head, and it flopped to the surface, moaning.


    Shards of ice embedded themselves mere inches from me. I ducked, rolling out of the way of another volley.


    They had a magician?


    Thankfully, there wasnt many. As far as Id seen, there was only one, situated on the highest level of the shanty platform. I was mentally working out how to get up to him without exposing myself to more artillery when he stopped, looking down at the curved sword that jutted around his chest. Bell ripped the sword free, still sprinting. I had no idea when or even how shed managed to get up there, but I wasnt about to complain.


    Vogrin floated beside me, watching the struggle analytically.


    Are you going to help or just watch? I yelled at him. Another rat tackled me from the side. I wrestled it to the ground and dispatched it with the remains of my dagger. Black, foul smelling blood emitted upwards, covering my face.


    I believe you selected me for my analysis and tactical savvy. Vogrin observed. Not my combat prowess.


    I wondered, absentmindedly, if he could be set on fire. I could use a little savvy right now!


    A rat bit into my side and gnawed. I punched it repeatedly with the hilt of my sword until it let go.


    You certainly could, Vogrin said impassively.


    For fucks sake!


    Vogrin rolled his eyes. Its almost as if the intelligence of these creatures is little more than that of pack animals. Its almost as if-


    Vogrin! I will return you!


    I am not a household item to beFine! Vogrin snarled. Its almost as if you were to locate their leader and kill him, the rats would be likely retreat. He pointed downwards with a single bony finger.


    I wheeled around, surveying the battlefield below. For ever rat we felled, there were a dozen more, storming out of tunnels and from beneath piles of refuse to take its place. There were so damn many of them-


    Then I spotted him. He was huge. The average rat stood about three feet tall. This one was nearly six feet, more than a head taller than me, and exponentially heavier. He roared, his red eyes glowing in the dark, pointing a skull-decorated cudgel up at me.


    It was a thirty-foot drop. And even if it wasnt, he was surrounded by rats. How the hells was I supposed to-


    The solution snapped into focus. When Id watched the never-ending battles for the enclave, Id effectively been forcing myself to solve for an impossible variable. To come up with a solution for an incredible difficult problem. No matter how creative I was, nothing had come. Nothing had occurred to me for a solution with which to defeat Ozra.


    By comparison, this was nothing.


    Opening up my bag, I retrieved a scroll. I hated the idea of using them, but what good were they if they just sat there. This particular scroll Id grabbed on a whim because it reminded me of the heist at Mifrals estate. I discharged a burst of mana into the scroll, completing the sigil. Then I leapt from the mushroom. The scroll didnt create weightlessness, but it reduced the effect of gravity, allowing the user to fall in a more controlled state, until the effect was cancelled. I drifted above the rat lord, as if aloft on a gust of wind. He made frantic gestures that jiggled his whole body, and a dozen stones propelled by slings whizzed past me, some closer than others, most going wide.


    Somehow managing the precise, minute control necessary, I called the air to me, sending a handful of powder from my pouch downwards. It was invisible in the chaos but surround the rat lord in a circle. Then ten feet above him, I cancelled the effect of the scroll. Air plummeted past my face as I plunged downward, sword held high. He roared up at me.


    The roar was cut short as the blade sunk home, lodging firmly in his chest. He caught fire and fell backwards. I clung to him desperately as he topped, his still-flaming body landing touching the circle I had drawn, which ignited, flames surrounding us in a circular gale of unimaginable heat.


    The hundreds of rats that had surrounded him sunk back. Hissing. Frightened. The rat-lords body grew stiff, bloating.


    I pulled my sword out and attempted to run, but it was too late. He exploded, showering me with fetid smelling guts. But Vogrin was right. The rats were too traumatized with the sudden death of their leader to pay any head to the gagging, blood-soaked wretch that had killed him.


    They scattered like insects.


    Something particularly vitreous sloughed off my chin and splattered against the ground. My shoulders heaved.


    I was transported into the past, and that whining, nagging voice was obliterated


    A lifetime ago, on a day when I was feeling particularly adventurous, I took Lillian down to the coast. It came up, through casual conversation, that neither of us had ever seen the ocean, and I decided that was a criminal offense that had to be rectified. We were royaltyor in her case, soon to be royalty. Why live through books, through artists depiction, when a little gold and a moderate amount of travel was all it took to rectify the situation? It was more for her than for me, or at least that was what I told myself.


    And then, we stepped out from the carriage.


    The water was so wide and clear it was almost impossible to parse, almost dizzying, sparkling, full of life. Lillianas if shed been there a thousand times before, and would be a thousand times again, kicked off her fancy nobles shoes and stepped barefoot onto the sand. The coastal wind rippled through her dress, teased her hat from her head, lifting and catching the breeze like a bird in flight until it landed and rolled down the beach unpursued, the single blue ribbon bobbing back and forth as if in bittersweet farewell, and the waves crashed down at her feet and she danced away, rotating slowly to face me, joy, pure joy on her face as she spoke the words.


    Have you ever seen anything so beautiful? Maya asked. She shifted back and forth on her feet, sinking, shifting, then sinking again.


    The water was emerald, the sand light-gray and silty, and the sky was cast in the same overcast cumulus white that had covered the sanctums impermeable dome. And still, the answer was as clear as it had been a lifetime ago.


    No, I said. I havent.


    ----


    After making sure our immediate area was secure, I stripped down to the minimal amount of clothes to maintain decency and scrubbed away the grime from the cave. It was fresh water, rather than salt, and the seemingly endless void of water was mostly an optical illiusion. It was more lagoon than ocean, but I loved it all the same.


    We saved our rations, feasting instead upon the conch-shelled crabs that wandered up to us curiously, blissfully unaware of their imminent demise. Jorra had been suckered into buying a tube of butter back at the heartsomething I once would have mocked him for, but was now forever grateful.


    Jorra, Maya, and I relaxed on the sandbank, using our packs as pillows. Bell delved into the water, floating as she crouched down to her neck and back up again.


    Youre better in a fight than I remember, Jorra said to Maya, cracking open a crab-leg between two stones.


    Mmm. Its been a busy year, Maya said. You are less annoying than I remember.


    Guess it helps when Im the one pulling your ass out of the fire, Jorra said, receiving a snort in response. He looked over to Bell, who was still repeating the same, strange, bobbing motion. The hells is she doing?


    Not a clue. Maya said.


    I straightened up, studying her for a moment. Bell bobbed back into the water, arms making frantic movements below the surface before she bobbed back up again.


    She cant swim, I said.


    They both looked at me.


    That cant be right. Maya squinted, watching the younger infernal.


    Mom taught us to swim before we could even walk, Jorra seemed almost affronted. Her parents He trailed off.


    Were teaching her to fight. All she was taught, all she was expected to do, was fight. But I left the words unspoken. It felt like it would spoil the moment, somehow, to bring Erdos into it. I closed my eyes. He had died because of my actions, however indirectly. As much as I wanted to hide from it, to deny it, the fact remained: I had created my first orphan. And if Thoth was right, how many more would follow?


    Someone squeezed my arm. Maya. Stay with me, she said, under her breath.


    I forced myself to stay present in the moment, to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Jorra looked between us, questioning, the face of someone who was certain he had miss something but was unsure of what.


    An idea struck. I pointed towards Bell. Why dont you teach her?


    His response was immediate. To swim? Why me?


    I mean, I didnt learn until much later in life. Maya is- I came up short, turned to Maya.


    Recuperating mana. Maya added seriously.


    I pointed to her, smiling. See? Were both either unavailable or unqualified. You learned before you could crawl, right?


    Before I could walk, Jorra said dryly, And that was hyperbole.


    I dont know what that word means, I lied.


    Who knew my brother was so bookish, Maya said.


    Youre both impossible. Jorra threw up his hands and turned, stalking off towards Bell.


    We watched the proceedings with glee as Jorra awakened his inner teacher. The light refracted from the water as Jorra pantomimed the motions of swimming for Bell, cupping his hands and demonstrating a simple stroke. Then, he supported her from as far away as he could manage, palm held flat against her stomach. Bell sputtered, came up for air, looking panicked and betrayed, peppered him with questions, and then repeated the process all over again. Eventually, he removed his hand, and Bell took off on her own. Jorra had to rescue her a few times she went too deep and panicked, but beneath the facade of grumpiness, he never seemed to lose patience.


    Maya leaned over to whisper conspiratorially in my ear. How long do you think before we add a void magician into the family line. Mother will pitch a fit.


    Nethtari would do no such thing, I rolled my eyes. And I think youre getting ahead of yourself.


    Maybe. I have a knack for these things.


    Says every romantic ever. I smirked, ignoring the fact that I was including myself in that statement.


    The silence stretched out. It reminded me of those early days in the Everwood, when my flame was just a spark, and Maya was content to sit beside me, eyes lifting from her book every so often to watch me practice.


    What went wrong with you and mother? Maya asked.


    Did she say something? I asked, suddenly self-conscious.


    No. It was what she didnt say. Maya shook her head. The way she talked around it. What do artists call it? The negative space.


    I sighed. What did you want to do before everything?


    That is a drastic change of topic.


    Its a polite and loving way of asking you to read the room, I raised an eyebrow at her, and she raised one right back.


    Alright. I will drop it. For now.


    The silence stretched out again before Maya broke it. Life magic always seemed so wonderful to me. She trailed a shape in the sand idly, The ability to heal any wound without a scar, to rectify painful disfigurements, to fix that which was broken.


    She trailed off. It was tempting to prompt her, but I let her take her time.


    There was a girl. Her name was Rospira, and I called her Ros. Her father worked at the earth temple. I saw them from time to time, whenever we made our monthly visitation. She stood out to me because her father always carried her to the temple in a harness, while I was made to walk. That always struck me as unfair. Maya smiled, sadly. I did not realize how unfair it was until one day the day I wandered into the earth temple and found Ros pulling herself across the floor.


    There was no way you could know, I said, a bit too quickly.


    Perhaps. But that image stuck in my mind. Mayas expression gained a far away quality. We became friends. And I visited her every time mother let me out of her sight at the temple. Then, one day, I awakened. The power to heal, at my fingertips. Maya held her hand palm upwards, light glowing in her palm. I was such a stupid child. I rushed to the temple to show Ros, to show my friend. I can heal you, I said. You can walk once more. Maya cringed. Ros let me try. As if to satisfy my curiosity. She wasnt even angry when I failed. Somehow, that made it worse. That night, I wept to my mother and father. It didnt seem fair, that I had this power, and yet I could not help my friend.


    Noble to a fault. I smiled.


    Perhaps. Mother told me that was the way of things. That disparity was the way of life, as difficult and painful as it is. But my father snuck into my room and told me the story of Kathor, the legendary healer. That maybe, one day, if I worked hard, though it was only the smallest of chances, I might be able to help my friend.


    Thats... quite a burden to place on a child.


    I do not think so. I think, in his own way, father was showing me that there was more than one way to view the world. Maya looked at me, and the deeper meaning struck me like a hammer. That there is a chance that things can be better if we work harder, and strive with all we have.


    The weight of it settled on me. I dont know if I can make things better, Maya. I dont know if Im the right person, if Im even capable of it. I remembered Erdos, teaching me how to ward off the trauma of panic. His face was replaced with the image of Ephira dying on the floor of the twilight chamber, the light slowly leaving her eyes.


    Maya squeezed my arm. What matters is that you try.


    A splash of water hit Maya in the face. Jorra cackled and retreated into the the water. Maya chased after him, and after a moment, I followed, temporarily leaving the weight that had pressed so heavily on my shoulders forgotten on the shore.

 Chapter 83: Sanctum VIII

    Chapter 83: Sanctum VIII


    Youve got to be kidding me, Jorra said.


    Heatwaves shimmered up from what I can only describe as a desert. The cloud cover was perilously thin, but the heat that gathered at the top created a shimmering distortion, as if the thin patches of cloud were not so much hovering as they were floating, nested upside-down in still, shimmering pools. And this chamber was vast.


    How are we doing on water? I asked aloud, unable to tear my eyes away from that strange, alien landscape.


    Could be better. Maya opened a flap on Jorras backpack and pulled several overfilled skins. We are down to half. Decent enough. I would have been more sparing if I knew this was coming.


    Worst-case scenario, I can supplement if were completely out, Jorra said grimly, But my magic will be weaker here, Im not sure how good Ill be in a fight.


    Vogrin, I spoke down into the gap in my shirt, You said our followers were less than a day away and more or less keeping pace. Any chance theyve sped up?


    The amulet pulsed once, cold. Uncertain.


    Also, since you have been serving as our navigation, it would have been excellent to know we were walking into the second manifestation of the runic desert. No response, other than two chill pulses, which I took to mean that Vogrin didnt know what wed find.


    Youre right, Bell called down from the top of a dune.


    About what? I yelled up to her.


    Come see! Bell waved at us.


    Navigating the sharp-angle of the shadowed dune was tricky, and I would have fallen if Jorra hadnt kept a stabilizing hand to my back. I arrived alongside Bell, short of breath. Bell helped us up one by one, biceps stretching beneath her sleeve as she lifted us with little effort.


    I stood atop the dune, not entirely sure what I was seeing. The sandy landscape was speckled with ruins. Things that had once been towers had fallen, broken and crumbled, half buried within the sand. On the segments of the constructions that showed, there were engravings I had only seen paintings of.


    See? Bell said. Its like the runic desert.


    Not like, I shook my head, If I didnt know where we were half a continent away, Id swear wed stumbled into it somehow.


    Maya looked confused. Ive heard something of this. The sanctum is a place heavy with magic, where normal rules do not always apply. There are places down here that have always been here, as ancient as the earth itself. But there are other places that form as sort of reflections, mirrors to various places of power on the surface. Only this isnt right. This was supposed to be some underground chamber, a testing grounds. This shouldnt be here.


    I dont like the look of whatever that is over there. Jorra pointed slightly behind us and to the side. I turned and looked. At first, it looked like a wall of black, barely visible in the horizon. As my eyes adjusted and gained focus the truth of it became much more apparent. Sandstorm.


    We need to go back, I said, speaking at the same time as Jorra, who said something about us needing to go forward.


    Guys, Bell said.


    If we go back, Jorra said, focused on me, We risk running into those people following us. Theyll have magicians older than us, Cairn. And theres a lot of them.


    If we dont go back, we risk being caught in that. And this chamber is a blank space on the map. Whos to say we dont risk being stuck here? I said, speaking calmly, trying to remain civil. We can take them.


    Guys, Bell said.


    I dont want to take them, Jorra said, looking appalled, Those are my folk, Cairn.


    Theyre hunting us! I said, exasperated.


    Maya stepped between us. We do not have time for this. We need to make a decision, quickly.


    My amulet burned, suddenly. A warning. I whirled around, looking for the source of danger. It wasnt what I expected. Bells face was slack the skin around her face was pale, rather than red, and she teetered on the edge of the dune. Jorra was closer than I was. He dropped his bag, contents spilling on the sand, but he was just a bit too far away.


    I reached out and called to the dry air around me, gathering mana and releasing it in a reflective burst. Jorra was in the way, directly between me and Bellarex. What followed next was almost entirely instinct. As I had when I used the raw, elemental wind to gather and direct the powders in my alchemical pouch, I reached out towards the small, almost invisible burst of wind and attempted to move it.


    It curved, circling around Jorra and slamming into the small of Bellarexs back, knocking her forwards. She still fell, but forwards, into the more gradual decline of the dune. But for some reason, she didnt catch herself, slamming into the sand with a painful yelp.


    Jorra rolled Bell onto her side. I knelt down beside her. Her breaths were short and shallow, indicating a deeper issue than a simple fall.


    Whats wrong with her? Jorra said.


    Im fine, Bell panted.


    Maya pressed two glowing fingers to Bells neck. There is no damage or physical ailments other than some scrapes along her hands and knees. It is almost like she is shit. Maya looked up at me. She is acclimating.


    It took a second for me to place the term. When I did, it took me back to the approach to the sanctum. What had Irtek said? Youll be fine for now, not so fine later? Thoth had interfered and wed had to leave camp, unable to finish that particular conversation. Bell started to curl up, and Maya and I forced her to stretch out.


    I wiped a layer of dust covering the emblem at the center, and smiled.


    ----


    The three infernals watched in muted curiosity as I walked back to the group with a collection of four bottles under my arm.


    What is it? Maya asked.


    Im so glad you asked. I grinned. I present to you, a solution to our water shortage.


    Maya rolled her eyes, probably already knowing where this was going, but Bell and Jorra were thoroughly confused.


    They keep water in bottles? Bell asked.


    It looks more like booze. Jorra commented.


    I pointed at him. Not exactly, but close. We have our share of legendary distributors in Whitefall. Oteron, god of beers. Kivasir, the patron saint of tobacco. I shifted the label of one of the bottles towards them, so they could see it. And then, there is the story of the Naisen monks.


    And theyre legends? Jorra asked.


    Dont worry, Maya said, hell tell you.


    I pointed at her, unwilling to let my good fortune be spoiled. That I will. Thousands of years ago, the Naisen monks took up residence in the Runic desert, hundreds of miles away from any vice or pleasure. There are rumors that theyre something other than human, but thats likely nothing more than rumor and hearsay. Anyway. They lived in a desert. Like most monks, they made most of their money from scribing and other clerical works, but merchants charged exorbitantly for the food, so funding was a recurring issue. One day, a Naisen monk with a particularly green thumb who had, perhaps, not been completely prepared to give up the sins of the flesh, began to attempt cultivating plants with limited resources at his disposal. Nothing grew. Except a particularly hardy strain of grapes.


    I could see eyes glazing over, except for Maya, who suddenly watched with interest.


    Short version, then. A winery was born, and still exists to this day. The wine is delectable, and due to its hardy origin, can be stored in practically any climate. I finished, passed a bottle to each of them, then yanked the cork from mine. As I hoped, dark red liquid sloshed, some bubbles frothing across the top. It smelled delightful.


    Ive never heard of anything like that, Maya said, inspect her bottle. There are rumors of libraries, and the occasional treasury, but nothing like this.


    I suspect, I said, Based on the way these bottles are sealed and state of the ruins, this version of the runic desert is not actually that old. The Naisen monks started labeling and dating their bottles around a hundred-and-fifty years ago-


    -He knows way too much about this. Jorra hid a smirk.


    So you could have in your hands a two-hundred, three-hundred year Naisen red. I finished. For context. The last hundred-year-old bottle I heard of went for over fifty gold rods.


    Jorra was about to take a sip when Maya cut in. We cant drink this in good conscience then. Jorra lowered the bottle from his lips.


    Ah, but we can. We are in a survival situation, and there are ten more bottles back there. I held the bottle high. Cheers.


    They were hesitant, but I waited, and eventually, everyone but Bell took a drink. That was probably for the best. Without knowing how void magicians acclimatized it was better to play it safe.


    The chorus of sputtering and coughing lasted nearly a minute.


    Is this what wine is? Jorra said, nearly gagging. Its awful. Like actually, legitimately awful.


    Its more sour than anything Ive ever tasted, Maya sputtered.


    I grimaced, mouth working, trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth. It tasted like the grapes had died in a pile of dirt only to be reanimated in some dark, foul ritual. Some part of my mind was trying to justify the proposed value I had just bragged about with the horrid, curt taste.


    Grimly, despite the shouts of alarm from my companions, I lifted it to my mouth and took another sip.


    Nope. Still horrible.


    Why would you go back for more? Maya placed a palm on her forehead.


    Questionable impulse control.


    We talked well-into the night, the winds of the sandstorm roaring around us. The wine, while awful, was not completely unpalatable, and while Maya only took a few more sips of hers, Jorra and Bell had finished their respective bottles and were passed out on the floor. I joined them soon after, my vision hazy, exhausted and spent.


    ----


    Gentle hands shook me awake.


    Maya? I said, confused. Light was coming in from somewhere, aggravating my hangover. She held a hand over my mouth and I fell silent. Then she pointed upwards towards the window wed broken to enter through. There was the rhythmic sound of sand being shoveled. Someone had found us.

 Chapter 84: Sanctum IX (First draft)

    Chapter 84: Sanctum IX (First draft)


    Bell, having clearly run out of ideas, clamped a hand over his mouth, pulled back a fist and punched him hard in the solar plexus. Jorra shot upright. He saw me ready and looking up at the growing light coming through the window as the sand was shoveled out of the way.


    A small figure dropped from the window and landed lightly on his feet. Blue-skin peaked out from beneath the shroud that covered his face. His lazy white eyes surveyed us with minimal interest, and came to rest to the empty bottles on the floor. Slowly, somberly, he removed his shroud. His face was a mess of white unkempt facial hair and his eyes were vaguely crazed, the combination reminiscent of the many drunks that wandered Topside. What didnt fit the image was his horns, coiling backwards, not unlike a rams. I wondered how old he was.


    Bell suddenly bowed and popped back up. Elder Saladius? Its wonderful to see you!


    Who are ya? Saladius said, scowling.


    Bellarex, She said, When you were still acting as head priest of the void temple, you came to visit me and give me your blessing when I was a baby.


    She recognized him from that?


    The elder squinted. Erdoss girl. Good memory. Yes. Yes, I remember. He smiled for just a second, before his lips turned downward in a scowl. Fat lot of good it did.


    Bellarexs face fell. But Elder Saladius was not done ranting. Drinking my wine, defiling my vacation home. He scowled and pointed first to the broken window, then to the glass fragments on the floor. Who did that particular piece of work?


    Oh, that was me elder. Maya offered an awkward curtsy, but did not lower her eyes from the man.


    Dont you me elder me, girl. Do you see those wee metal things up there? Saladius said. Next to the window?


    Yes? Maya seemed completely off-balance.


    Then, let me pose the question. Are ye daft? Maya attempted to sputter something, but Saladius spoke over her. Those little bits of engineering there are what we civilized folk call hinges. He dragged out the last word, making the two syllables sound more like six. It struck me that his accent was not dissimilar to a dwarfs. Where the hell had an infernal elder picked up a dwarven accent?


    Jorra bristled. I stepped in front of him, trying to head off his temper. We apologize for the intrusion, Elder Saladius. We were looking for shelter from the storm-


    Oh, He cut in. You mean the big slow movin one that took hours to get anywhere? That storm.


    I ground my teeth. Yes. That storm.


    I see. Saladius seemed to take me in for the first time, looking me over from head to toe. There was a shift in his stance and the atmosphere of the room changed. If I had not seen Thoth in action, had not watched Ozra through countless battles, I might have missed it entirely.


    Saladiuss wrist twitched in a near-instantaneous blur. I flooded mana through the inscriptions in my legs and jumped out of the way of the flash of silver, a small, disk-like projectile moving faster than I could track. It was close, but Id managed to get out of the way.


    Or so I thought, before Saladius flicked his wrist again and the projectile curved almost ninety degrees, slamming against my neck. What followed was pure muscle memory. When Jorra and I sparred with weapons, he almost always went for the same spot. If his whip secured itself the hold was practically an instant win. So Id learned how to properly respond.


    I stuck my hand up flat against my throat. The wire bit into my fingers, drawing blood, but the important part was that I could still breathe. Jorras whip lashed out.


    No, Saladius said, with the same casual disregard one would use decline tea. He flicked a finger and Jorra hit the back wall, emitting a painful umph, as he hit. Bell staggered behind him and took a swing at his headthough I noticed she turned the blade to strike with the flat, rather than the edge.


    Nope, Saladius said again, ducking under her blade and grabbing her foot out of the air, almost casually flipping her backwards where she landed on the ground painfully.New novel chapters are published on


    Okay. Jorra looked for a moment like he might leave it at that, before continuing. No, I think we should clear the air.


    I sighed. Okay. Honestly, it will probably drive me crazy if I dont know. What did Nethtari tell you?


    He connected the dots slowly. If youre talking about what happened with the asmodials, she didnt.


    That threw me. Really? Nothing at all?


    Jorra shook his head. No. Not intentionally, at least. I He hesitated, I went down to get something to drink one night and heard them both talking. My parents. Didnt hear the beginning, or the end of it, but mom seemed upset. Like, I could hear it in her voice. The flat tone wasnt there at all, she was actually inflecting. Really upset. She kept talking about how shed failed you and Maya both.


    Why Maya? I said, confused, looking up ahead where Maya and Bell walked side-by-side.


    I dont know. That bothered me too, so I kept listening. Dad kept telling her that she did the right thing, she did everything she could, said something about it not being her place. That just made her cry, Jorra struggled to describe it.


    I understood the difficulty. There was a well of emotion in my chest as well. For as long as Id known her, Nethtari was rock-solid. I hated what Id put her through and the resulting wedge that was driven between us.


    I pushed the emotion away. Im not really seeing how that connects to the friction between us.


    Jorra shifted uncomfortably. Im getting to that. Mom never talked bad about you or said anything. But when she was giving me advice for the sanctum, you know, just mom stuff, shed throw in these little tidbits.


    It was easy enough to fill in those blanks now. I closed my eyes.


    Its not as bad as whatever youre thinking, Jorra continued. Just little stuff. Like make sure youre there for Cairn. Help share the burden if anything stressful happens. Try to be mindful of situations where he feels trapped, prioritize deescalation.


    I stopped him, then. Looked him in the eye. It was hard to keep things from him. Wed trained together almost every day, and Id spent more time with him than anyone else in the enclave. Im sorry I never gave you a straight answer about what happened in the Twilight Chambers.


    Dont be sorry, Jorra said, shot me a wry smile. Just tell me what happened.


    I shook my head. I cant. But suffice it to say it was dark, it was bloody, and it changed things. But that only happened, Jorra, because they forced my hand. I was out of options. An entire rogue demonic legion was threatening to run rampant.


    And you did something you regret? He probed.


    No. I was surprised to find that even after plenty of time to think about the ramifications of my choice, it was still true. I dont regret it. But I dont want to go back there again, any more than Nethtari does. And I dont want you to feel like you have to monitor me.


    I dont. Jorra said, then amended. Okay, I kind of did.


    A musical yelled back to us. Boys, youre getting left behind. Bell waved at us. Saladius stood ahead, his arms crossed.


    After using Vogrin to complete theaccording to him, excruciatingly painfultask of removing our a good portion of our tracks and sending another set somewhere else, We arrived at Elder Saladiuss home. Although calling it a home, was a bit generous. It was more like an oversized hut, formed with bricks of sandstone, and held together with mortar. There were two almost comically barren planters that decorated both sides of the door, any plant that had once called planters home either long gone or recently decimated by the storm.


    Saladius must have seen our expressions because he offered an explanation unprompted. I got tired of rebuilding. Simple is better.


    Now, it was just a matter of convincing him to help me.

 Chapter 85: Sanctum X

    Chapter 85: Sanctum X


    There are people following us. I trailed Elder Saladius around the low-ceiling, poorly constructed room that made up his kitchen.


    Color me shocked. Shocked and amazed, Saladius muttered, stoking the fire of the small stove. He cracked open several gray, speckled eggs several times too large to be a chickens, that impression reinforced by their bright-red yolks. How surprising that the first human in the sanctum in centuries brings trouble in his wake.


    Okay. That was fair. But I had a feeling Saladius wasnt the sort to be impressed with idle agreement or flattery. And something about the latter half of his sentence caught me off-guard.


    In centuries? There have been others?


    Elder Saladius snorted. Did ya think you were the first? Havent you heard, boy? Theres nothing new under the sun. Course theres been others. Before my time, but they brought trouble with them. Each and every one.


    Had he brought us here just to gripe at me? There were mitigating circumstances.


    Seems like a polite way of saying shit happened I wasnt prepared for, and now Im relying on the hospitality of others to bail me out.


    My temper flared. We can leave-


    Yes, do that-


    -If doing your duty as an elder is such an imposition.


    It could be argued that I have a duty to them. He pointed out towards the others with a primitive, grease-stained wooden spatula. I glanced behind me to see if theyd heard. They idled in the small cramped quarters that could only be referred to as a living space in the most generous application of the term. Then he stabbed the spatula towards me. I do not have a duty to you. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    I held my hands up, palms up. Fair enough.


    I stood in silence as Elder Saladius continued to cook. My mouth watered at the smell, despite the ugliness of the food. The crabs of the ocean chamber were a fond memory marred by the dryness of stringy meat and dehydrated rations wed been living on for the last few days. It dawned on me with an almost crushing disappointment that the amount of food that was being prepared was barely enough for a single serving, let alone enough for the rest of us.


    The exit to the sanctum has been cut off, I said, trying a different approach.


    So the disembodied voice wasnt just in my head? Saladius didnt even look at me.


    It wasnt. I said. It was surprising to hear that Thoths message had traveled this far, but then again, it explained, at least in part, the amount of hostility he was showing. If you cant help us, thats fine. But maybe you can point us in the right direction.


    I cant help you. His voice was cold.


    _Yeah, Ive been getting that impression._ I bit back the retort before it left my lips. Simple directions on where to look. We were a bit rushed moving out of the heart, didnt really get a chance to ask around. Eventually, Ill need to find an infernal that can teach me the flame, but more importantly, we need to find a way to get the barrier down before things get ugly. And for that, well need Morthus.


    Saladius stopped for a fraction of a second before pacing to the counter. Doubt hell be able to help you. Even amongst the rest of us geriatric types, hes not in what Id call the best of health these days.


    My head snapped up. Whats wrong with him?


    Thats not for me to say.


    Where is he?


    Also not for me to say.


    I stared at him in disbelief, fighting the urge to throttle the man.


    Elder Saladius grabbed a repurposed bottle from the winerynow filled with a viscous black sauceand slathered the eggs with it. My stomach rumbled as he balanced both eggs on the skillet and gobbled them down, the black sauce spattering his long white beard.


    The grueling, repetitive nature of it lured me into a false sense of security. I arrived at the final scarab nest and found that my bucket was nearly empty. Elder Saladius had been fairly precise when he demonstrated the amount of meat to be given to the bugs. No more, no less. The last portion was roughly half the size of what hed recommended, and frankly, I assumed he was just being anal-retentive. Big as they were, they were still just insects. So, faced with the alternative of backtracking all the way to Saladiuss hovel, I upended the bucket and tossed the remaining meat into the hole. It bounced down the slope. Just like before, there was a blur as the meat was consumed.


    But then, the ground rumbled. I froze as the scarab emerged from the dune and scurried around the circumference of the hole. I began to push mana into the inscriptions in my legs, preparing to flee. As soon as I did, its head jerked in my direction. The shell at its back parted and its transparent wings beat in a hummingbird cadence. But instead of taking flight, it hurled itself toward me.


    And now I was running.


    It was fast. Faster than me. There was a gust of rancid wind as the beetles jaws snapped at my back, mere inches away. I swore under my breath. If this _thing_ cost me a rest I wasnt sure I could forgive myself for it. My one saving grace was that despite its many legs it wasnt particularly agile. I zig-zagged across the dunes in a pattern that was almost as disorienting to me as it was to my pursuer. But still, havent sent Vogrin out earlier to scout I was running perilously low on manathis likely wasnt sustainable. The possibilities ran through my head.


    Could I deal with it the same way Id dealt with Kastramoth?


    No. Surrounded by sand. Nothing to set on fire.


    Poison?


    Considering its body mass, I doubted that would work.


    _Think, dammit._


    I was once again faced with the ugly truth: I was most in my element when I had time to plan and foreknowledge of what was coming. The natural downside of that method was that it generally involved dying first. That had been almost acceptable to me when I was under the impression that the worst thing that could happen was my own personal pain and trauma, the worst-case scenario finding myself stuck in a situation that could not be salvaged within the provided loop. My experience in the enclave had tainted that impression, rendered my previous confidence moot. I didnt have infinite chances. If I died too many times, I couldnt shake the feeling that _something_ would happen; that the darkness that clung to me tighter and tighter would eventually refuse to let go. Some part of me desperately hoped that I was wrong, that it wasnt as dangerous as my mind was making it out to be. And perhaps it wasnt. Perhaps it was situational. Maybe the feeling of the cloying black would dissipate now that the challenges of the enclave had been overcome. Still, I wasnt rushing to find out.


    I needed to get better at this. Striking a balance between the informed methodical planning I excelled at and improvising when things went sideways. All that to say, I had no intention of dying to this oversized termite.


    It was just the question of how exactly to avoid it.


    As if the creature had psychically divined my hostility, it leaped forward, wings buzzing, its jaws snapping. I threw myself to the side. There was a tearing sensation. At first, I thought it had finally caught me, shock hiding the damage. Then I felt the air on my skin and realized it had shredded the back of my shirt. I had precious few seconds to feel relief before I landed at an awkward angle and tumbled down a slope, the hot grittiness of sand crunching as it covered me, getting in my eyes. The beetle slid down after me, snapping hungrily.


    Why, Elphion? Why didnt I just go back for more meat?


    I pushed the last of my mana into my legs, bouncing back up. The beetle roared. Half-blind, I stumbled into a set of ruins, squeezing myself between the fallen rocks of what had once been the entrance to a crypt.


    The scarab clawed at the rocks with its front legs, trying to force its way in.


    The upside was that it was far too big and the collapsed entrance was packed too tightly for it to make any real headway.


    The downside was that every time it slammed the full-breadth of its bulk against the barrier, it came closer and closer to collapsing the entry-way and trapping me under the rocks.


    A sense of numbness washed over my legs as the last of the mana within the inscriptions dissipated.


    Like a candle had been extinguished, the beetle seemed to immediately lose interest, poking at the rocks experimentally, then wandering off. It patrolled in circles around the crypt in patterns that reminded me of when it had first emerged. I cocked my head, watching curiously as I waited. It continued the strange circular pattern.


    Damn. Of course, it wouldnt be as easy as just waiting for it to wander off.


    I took a few minutes to steady my breathing, then began the slow process of gathering mana


    As soon as I did, the beetles head jerked around, looking over towards me. I stopped, letting the mana go, no longer gathering it to my core. Again, it was like a candle had been extinguished.


    I thought back to the original encounter. The beetle hadnt bothered with me until Id started routing mana to my inscriptions. It was attuned to magic somehow. I looked closer at its face and could have laughed. There were membrane-like holes on the sides of its head that likely functioned as ears, but simple black markings where the eyes should have been. Suddenly, its chosen habitat, a simple trap that enticed prey to come to it made much more sense. The beetle was blind.


    But it wasnt deaf. Without the use of magic, I doubted I could free myself without making a great deal of noise. I thought it through. For some reason, my thoughts drifted to Bellarex. The way she imbued void magic into her daggers, into her sword.


    Slowly, an idea began to form.

 Chapter 86: Sanctum XI

    Chapter 86: Sanctum XI


    I think you cracked one. I took a deep pull. The water was lukewarm and unfiltered, but felt almost heavenly as it banished the dryness from my mouth and tongue.


    Bell had settled in at my side, not the least bit winded. She stopped mid-stroke, sharpening one of her many weighted knives. Oh. Im sorry. Thought youd block properly. If youd like I can


    I stuck a finger out towards her. Dont finish that thought.


    I know, I know, Bell sighed. Ninety percent. Save the last ten for if Im fighting for my life.


    Good.


    I thought back to the spar. Fighting Bell was like fighting someone who could see the future, an observation that felt more than a little ironic. She had a way of predicting the way things would go from the smallest indicators. For Bell, the toe of a boot rotating in the dirt a certain way might as well have been a flashing arrow, pointing out the direction of the swing. So, it followed that the solution was to be unpredictable. Which worked. Until it didnt. It was bizarre that a person could have such finely tuned perceptions in reading body language but still be so socially backwards.


    My eyes went to the knives in her kit.


    Okay. I have to know. How the hells are you so accurate with those?


    She looked up at me, missing the context of the question.


    The knives. I pointed. I dont get it. From everything Ive ever read, knife throwing is impractical. Mostly a party trick.


    Bell stuck her lip out in something approximating a pout.


    I continued quickly, Which, its clearly not when youre doing it. I can speak to that. I thought back to the many times, just went I managed the upper hand, a throwing knife had plonked off my forehead, or more recently, my ribs. I considered another possibility. Does the void magic stabilize them?


    The infernals enthusiasm flooded back as soon as she understood she was complimented rather than chastised. Nope. If anything, that makes them more difficult to use. Magic held within an object is particularly unstable. I like knives because theyre multi-purpose.


    Multi-purpose?


    Some void users prefer throwing metal spheres. Boink. You hit them. Their magic is borked for a few minutes. Bell faked a yawn. Booooring. Not to mention, less effective. I like knifes because if the point sticks, not only does the effect last longer, theres also the psychological element. Oh no, a pointy object is having its way with me. She smiled, looking up at the ceiling wistfully, and I suppressed a small shiver. If theyre really dumb, theyll even pull it out.


    I imagined that. A magician, panicking because he could no longer cast, removing the object that he perceived to be the problem, and consequently bleeding even faster.


    You uh sound like you have some experience with that particular maneuver.


    A few tournaments. Enclave magicians usually know what to expect, but Ill take the easy victory from the ones who dont.


    Everything she was saying was interesting, but didnt seem to track with the way I used the demon-fire on my sword. Bell was already shaking her head before I finished expressing the thought.


    Its different. She seemed excited to have an audience, and it occurred to me that given the rather taboo subject void magic was around the infernals, this might be her first time explaining the details of what she did to anyone. The oil burns. Theres a reaction that keeps the magic intact. Dad says


    She stopped herself, emotion shutting down before it could come to the surface. I felt that familiar pang of guilt once more.


    Dad said there are capacitive metals, more capable of holding imbued magic for longer periods of time. She held up one of her daggers. These are just ordinary old steel.


    I did a double take. The daggers were so bright and well polished Id taken them for ascended steel, like her sword. So thats what its called? Imbuing magic?


    Bell nodded. Mmm hmm. It expands our repertoire quite a bit.


    The pieces fell into place. Because void as a whole has less in the way of ranged options.


    You got it! Bells excitement suddenly dampened. Though, honestly, theres not a lot of benefit to telling you this. Any cast projectile would likely be more practical than imbuing mana into a knife.


    I wanted to keep her talking. Keep her distracted from mentally going back to the place shed almost slipped into. You dont know that, I said, What if my third awakening is void?


    Bell peered at me suspiciously. Its always the first, and we rarely reach the second.


    I shrugged. And my first was demon-fire, something thats supposedly never happened before. The world is changing. At the very least, itd be good to learn how to throw knives.


    She studied me, looking for any trace of jest or sarcasm on my part. I kept my face as neutral as possible. It almost looked like she would turn me down. Then she popped up to her feet and led me to the range outside.


    This wasnt like her. Was this another group dynamic Id missed? Id been completely unaware of how tired everyone had grown dealing with the kobolds. I tried to work through it backward. Shed been pushing herself hard. Trying to show value?


    You dont have to prove yourself. I kept my voice low. Theres nothing wrong with showing weakness to your allies, especially if youre hurt.


    I can hack it Bell wheezed. Give me a minute and Ill be good to keep going.


    I frowned. Maybe something more practical would work if abstract wasnt cutting it. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Im not going to tell you to stop, but pace yourself.


    Like y- She stopped herself, but I could fill in the blank. Like you?


    It struck me that this was the first time Id seen her angry. Saladius had gotten to her. Bell wasnt used to losing in a straight martial fight. On the rare occasions Id eked out a win, I had the grace to win humbly, and she still pouted. And Saladius was anything but humble.


    Bell stepped away from me. I turned to Saladius. I wanted to tear into him. Whatever hed been doing these last few years, it clearly wasnt honing his teaching technique. But I had a suspicion that anything I said to that effect would make Bell resent me. She was desperate to prove herself, and being overprotective would do the opposite.


    So instead, I held the bucket up towards Saladius, and gave him my widest, most charming smile. Bugs are fed. Just need to mop your floors and Ill be done for the day.


    Saladius cocked his head. They uh didnt give you any trouble?


    None whatsoever, I lied.


    Good. Make sure youre thorough on those floors. Saladius said, recovering quickly.


    I gave him a bow that was far, far closer to a maids curtsy, and then turned to Maya and Jorra, who were watching me with sympathy. Shall I rehydrate some rations for when the both of you are done?


    Maya bit her lip, but Jorra jumped at the opportunity. Gods yes, he said, Im starving.


    ----


    Maya came to check on me in the process of mopping the floors. We spoke briefly on the topic of our host, who I heckled mercilessly, claiming he was only marginally better than the last recluse wed met in the middle of nowhere. Maya said I was being too harsh, but she laughed.


    I harvested a frothy, light blue substance from the small succulents, careful to keep the milk out of direct sunlight as instructed.


    Later that evening, I moved to the roof, somewhere I could be on the lookout and have enough light to work. I fed demon-fire mana into a handful of small rocks. I weaved air spells as they created the least amount of light, almost invisible in the dark, and worked on what Id done almost by accident earlier. Curving the projectiles. If I could learn to combine this with the demon-fire somehow, the utility would be invaluable. Curve fire around cover into something flammable, use the control aspect to stoke the flames. Instant division and panic in the enemy ranks.


    You looked like him.


    I jumped, looking for the source of the voice. Elder Saladius stood on the edge of the roof facing towards me. The lazy confidence was gone. Instead his face looked gaunt, haunted.


    Like who? I asked.


    Like your father. His accent was thick, father, sounded like fadder. His jaw worked, eyes not looking at me but past me.


    You met him? The way he was talking, I took it that Saladius had been in the war.


    He continued on as if he hadnt heard me. Not sure if Id call it a meeting. Theres this mask, this civility you wear that he never did. Almost kind. Almost polite. Almost had me fooled. But then when the coin is down and the knives come out, youre the spittin image.


    I didnt know how to respond to that. My life was on the line.


    Elder Saladius chuckled. Thats the thing, isnt it boy? You dont fight like your life is on the line. Neither of you. You dont value it at all. Its like youre daring your enemy to take it, like you never even wanted it in the first place.


    Again, I was at a loss for words. I could see how he might come to that conclusion. I was too aware of death. All too familiar with how easily half-measures could lead to an early demise. But its not as if I could explain that to anyone. That it wasnt recklessness. It was the opposite.


    First, I thought you were a wolf in sheeps clothing, using children as a shield. Thought youd come frothing back as soon as I pushed you a little. Then I saw how you treated the girl. It was almost like you actually cared. Didnt match with the image. He sat down across from me. Did that bastard ever tell you what he did to us? The words were hard.


    I swallowed, all too aware of my situation. The others were likely already asleep. Vogrin would take moments to summon.


    I spoke carefully. I wasnt there. What I know is mainly from the histories. My father razed the enclave. There were dragons involved. He rode one into the dimension gate. Broke the portal on the way out.


    Well, I was there. And thats not even the half of it, Saladius said. There was the dull pop of a cork as he opened a bottle of wine, and began to tell the story.

 Chapter 87: Sanctum XII

    Chapter 87: Sanctum XII


    My wife was... He trailed off, his eyes glassy. They called me dwarf-fucker, behind my back. Youve learned a little about the tension between the races, yes?


    He was far drunker than I thought. The thoughts felt disconnected, non-sequitur. I paused, just long enough to ensure the question wasnt rhetorical.


    I started reciting a version of what I knew. The elves as a whole are mildly xenophobic, tend to keep to themselves. Not that we have room to talk. But of course, the stances of a people dont really apply to the individual. Theyre unique in that they generally keep themselves apart from others of their kind. Light, dark... I thought of the elves Id seen during the invasion along with the others, golden skin, red eyes, and fought down a shudder. And others. They dont interact much, from what I understand. Dwarves are the most open, welcoming. Almost mercenary in it. Anyone who is ready and willing to further the collective is embraced with open arms. Kind folk, from all reports.


    Easy to manipulate, my father had said.


    That they were. Saladius nodded. For all the good it did them. Less so now, but you compare them to us, or Elduin, that child despot trying to unite the elven tribes? Might as well be holding hands around an obelisk, singing folk songs. You know they used to have kings before your father stripped them of that?


    I winced. Theyre called Thanes now, if memory serves.


    Thanes. Saladius repeated the word, snorted. Yet another entry on the long list of indignities. But maybe we share the blame for that, to some extent. We didnt help them when they asked. Not that I take any personal responsibility for it. I was just a soldier then. An Evoker, with my own command, but a soldier just the same. Tied to the whims of the council.


    I tried to reconcile what he was saying with my own internal knowledge. I didnt even know the dwarven leadership was in contact with the infernals at all. Everything in our records says all three of the races were fairly isolationist.


    Aye, Saladius said. He swiped at the air and images began to form. Three points of a triangle, a dwarven, elven, and infernal figure standing next to each.


    There was something Id never been able to find a clear answer to. It was predicated with violence, from what I understand. The isolationist stances between the races. What was the source of the conflict before?


    You mean before your kind arrived at our shores? He leveled a cold gaze at me.


    I shook it off, took it in stride. Before my people, yes.


    He drew words in the air, written in jagged demonic. Magic, for the infernals. Mysticism, for the elves. This was the balance of power for thousands of years. The dwarves were something of an unwanted bastard amongst the races. He grimaced. There were periods where they were enslaved by one of us, or both. We didnt treat them well. Sins of the fathers. A concept you are rather intimately familiar with.


    I kept my face neutral.


    Saladius continued, This is where it gets a little fuzzy. There are multiple conflicting accounts. Some say a god came down to free them. Others say the god was a man, a once-in-a-lifetime mind, a charismatic leader and genius all rolled into one. The most popular is that a cadre of slaves, forced to labor tirelessly in the depths of a blood-mine, eventually found something. Something that catapulted them years ahead of all of us in terms of science and technology.


    Something? I asked.


    Something, Saladius repeated. Thats the crazy thing. No one knows what it is. You know what they say about secrets? This is the exception. My wife thought there was no one alive that knew. Makes more sense than a secret society of dwarves hiding secrets for centuries.


    Then the adage holds.


    Huh? He looked up at me.


    Two can keep a secret if both of them are dead.


    Elder Saladius made a noise, more grunt than laugh. I suppose it does. He drew a third word in the triangle. It now read Magic, Mysticism, and Technology, the latter ascribed next to the dwarves. Anyway. It played out the way you might expect. Rebellions, conflicts over what the painfully uninformed considered to a natural resource to be tapped, wars. By the end of it, the Dwarves stayed standing, just as strong of a power as the rest of us, reborn with a chip on their shoulder and an almost overtly hostile stance towards anyone looking to make a dent in the platform they built a kingdom on. Time passed. Bigots died. And eventually, someone was smart enough to do simple math.


    I thought of the dwarven device that was used within Mithrals estate. How the effect had felt latently magical, if not directly. They needed magicians?


    Saladius pointed the tip of the bottle at me. That they did. One in ten thousand dwarves awaken. No second awakenings. Not a single one. And in terms of talent, well, they tend to be closer to a red than a blue, if you catch my meaning.


    I did. In other words, their magical abilities were muted at best.


    There was one question I wasnt able to reconcile. What did the elves have to offer? More magicians? With the wealth of magic Id seen around the enclave, not even counting the massive swath of population they had locked away within the dimension gate, it stood to reason that the infernals would have provided more than enough for their needs.


    Elder Saladius smirked. A window to the gods.


    My jaw dropped. You cant be serious.


    Of course not. But thats what the average elf would tell you. Assuming they didnt kill you first. Saladius chortled at his own joke. They have a different way of seeing, the elves. Ive never understood it. There are a few infernals with in-roads who have tried to learn, to document, but it all seems a bit too superstitious to put credence in.


    My sisters face bubbled up into my mind, the image of her electrifying guards in the courtyard. She would have been taught by human mages, instructed to focus on the raw elemental side of casting, but her instruction couldnt be all that different from the infernals. I doubted, knowing what I knew, that my father would have let an elf within fifty miles of her, let alone allowed one to teach her. Or was that her mixed heritage? I contrasted what Id seen with what Tamara had said.


    She brought the mountain down.


    He scowled. I dont even know how it happened, really. Dory talked a mile a minute. It was all I could do to keep up. Never tried to get rid of it. My way of remembering her, I guess.


    The conversation died. I picked up one of the marbles from the roof, forcing a flash of violet mana into it. The light renewed, revealing that Saladius was watching me closely. I let the silence drag until it was unbearable.


    Was that when you met my father?


    Oh no. That was later. I watched the siege of Vam Furum, from a distance. I recognized it for what it was. The brutality of the attack. The slaughter. It was the sort of thing that was never going to stop. I returned to the enclave, took Dory with me. I tried to warn them. But the humans had already infiltrated, joined forces with us to root out subterfuge. I was just the dwarf-fucker that had abandoned his post.


    Im sorry, I said.


    He drained the rest of the bottle, then, holding it to his chin, tossed it off the roof. There was a tinkling of glass as it shattered against the sandstone.


    They turned on us before I could get Dory out of the enclave. Every human present, and hundreds of infernal mercenaries that had been hired without our knowledge. You know how your father deals with innocents?


    I swallowed. The same way he deals with everyone else.


    Saladius stuck a finger at me, his smile cruel. Not quite. See. They targeted the civilians first. A systematic strikebelaying or even ignoring larger threats. Any guesses as to why?


    No. I shook my head, unable to picture it. It seemed spiteful, unnecessary, the sort of thing Thoth would do.


    Then let me rephrase the question. You have an enemy who has a method of retreat built into their seat of power. The dimension gate. If you attack them, they sequester themselves into it. Become a much stronger, hardier target. How do you prevent them from doing so?


    I felt ill. My stomach turned. He wanted you angry. Off-balance.


    What felt like random violence was just ruthless arithmetic. The families of soldiers, officers, administrators. It resulted in a near-perfect breakdown of the chain of command. I should have been helping organize the retreat. But when Dory was cut down he shook his head. Again, I was struck by how old he looked. I snapped. Killed the man. And another. And another. Until I came face to face with him.


    I realized then where the strange sense of familiarity was coming from. My father was the person who haunted Saladiuss every waking moment, the same way Thoth was mine.


    Saladiuss fingernails scraped against the soft stone of the roof, leaving divots. He was just walking amongst the chaos, just a casual stroll, slaughtering anyone in arms length. He was being shielded, acting as a lightning rod for every infernal whose life had been shattered. I hit him with everything I had. He threw himself into it. He was enjoying it.


    It made sense that hed been so wary of me. I remembered what hed said. That Id looked like him.


    Did you hurt him? I really hoped he had, though I suspected the opposite.


    No. I broke through the shielding, eventually, but that didnt slow him down. Then the dragons broke through the dome of the enclave. Saladius put a hand to his forehead. Theyre supposed to be isolated creatures. It was like watching someone defy nature, bend it to their will. Any organization wed managed in the chaos was completely sundered.


    Any clue on how he managed it?


    No. I was standing there, beaten half to death, barely able to hold my sword when the dome fractured. And dragons razed the enclave. Melted stone. Most of the infernals that were left ran for the dimension gate. But I had nothing left. So instead of dying there, like perhaps I should have, I ran for the sanctum.


    I finally asked the question that had been weighing on me for quite some time. Why tell me all this?


    Because I need you to understand why Im suspicious. It all seems so calculated. Its like youre trying to come off as earnest and humble. The way you simply accepted every chore I foisted upon you. The way youve surrounded yourself with common folk and a void magician, rather than enlisting and paying for I need to know if this is another lie, yet another deceit to add to the list.


    Theyre my friends, I said immediately, not tools to be used. Mayas a healer. Jorras a fantastic magician. And Bellarex is one of the best fighters I know.


    See, that. If I didnt know better, Id think you actually care for them.


    All I want, I said, stabbing my finger into the ground, emphasizing each word, is a kingdom at peace. A place where the people I love dont have to live in fear. Am I willing to fight for it? Yes. Will I lie for it, act underhandedly, betray? Have I done things Im not proud of?


    I thought of Erdos, my mouth suddenly dry.


    Of course I have. But I have no desire to conquer. To rule. I want a better world for all of us. And maybe that makes me a fool. But Id rather be a fool than a monster.


    Saladius chuckled. Either you are an incredible actor or you actually believe what youre saying.


    I do. I said, my voice firm.


    Then there is a distant possibility I may have judged you too harshly. Saladius chewed on the words. And given that, we should really make the most of the time we have.

 Chapter 88: Sanctum XIII

    Chapter 88: Sanctum XIII


    Was it responsibility? Duty?


    Come on, Saladius said, looking more than a little annoyed. Wheres that killer instinct from before? Get off your ass and try again.


    The goal of this particular exercise was using short bursts of mana to deflect projectiles. It was an undeniably useful skill. Id seen it a few times in the enclave, but almost always from high-level magicians, and Id assumed it was something beyond the scope of what I could do, like creating a forcefield, the category of spells simply beyond my mana capacity.


    As it turned out, the deflection had nothing to do with mana. It was just a question of timing. And the timing was a complete pain in the ass. I staggered to my feet.


    Are you sure theres nothing more productive we could be doing? I asked. Considering how little time we have at our disposal.


    Saladius crossed his arms. Oh? Is this your way of telling me how much better you are than the rest of us demis?


    No, its just


    The elder stretched, and a knee-high wave of air came crashing towards me, biting into the ground, kicking up sand. I leapt over it, arm up protectively, blinking furiously to clear the sand, only to find that Elder Saladius was gone.


    Its hard to say what tipped me off. It was like the feeling you get when a stranger is looking at you from across the street, a whispering of paranoia across the neck. A phantom touch.


    I jerked backwards. The attack missed me by a millimeter, the edge of Saladiuss fist sliding past my face close enough that I could see the pores before the motion blurred and I back-stepped, scowling.


    Really? Throwing sand? Isnt that kind of a cheap shot?


    The elder grinned. Nope. That though, thats a cheap shot. He pointed behind me.


    The wave of sand had reversed course and crashed into the back of my knees. I fell again. I was becoming far, far more familiar with the fine detail of the desert ground than I would have liked. The wave reached Saladius, and he batted it away like an errant fly. How had he done that? Curving projectiles to course correct was necessary, vital even. But the general laws of motion still applied. You couldnt cast a fireball and make it zig-zag.


    Or at least, thats what I thought.


    Air was supposed to be Saladiuss weaker element, since void magicians awakened to void first. But his mastery was staggering. Comparing him to Nethtari and Kilvius, hells even Ralakos, the difference in mastery was unbelievable. He was older, yes. If I had to guess, thirty to forty years older than Ralakos. But he didnt move like an old man. He moved like a demon.


    I raised my head up from the awkward cushion of sand to look at him and felt a jolt of alarm. He plunged straight towards me, legs unmoving, as if he was flying. It was like being caught in the path of a runaway horse.Updated from


    I rolled out of the way and received a cuff on the back of my head for the attempt, then popped back up. How?


    Saladius smiled widely. I was briefly gripped by the thought that I preferred him when he was constantly sulking and sullen. He was still floating an inch above the ground. I studied him closely. He was moving slowly, his feet shifting reflexively to minute changes in weight. I mentally replayed the moments preceding the smack to my head.


    Thats not flight, I observed. When Ozra had flown, it was as if he commanded the natural forces of gravity himself. This was something subtler. Redirecting Momentum? It reminded me of the night of my awakening. How the wind had raged against my back pushing me forwards, legs barely able to keep up.


    His smile disappeared, leaving a lingering scowl. Fine, ruin my fun. No, its not flight. True flight exists, but its a mana hog, fiendishly difficult to master, and has left more than a few naturally talented of our ilk splattered across the rocks for petty hubris. He slowly shifted across the sand and around me in a slow semi-circle, allowing me to study the construction. This, is much more practical.


    I studied in silence for a few minutes. Surprisingly, Saladius stayed silent, allowing me to take in the complexity of what hed done. It almost looked like a platform, only less corporeal. Tiny grains of sand floated up from the desert floor and ejected to all surrounding sides.


    Since he didnt seem to be rushing to offer any advice on execution, I started with the obvious: casting an aegis facing straight downward, facing the sand, but I was unused to maintaining a shield untethered to my arm, and it obliterated under my feet, nearly toppling me again. Saladius howled with laughter and I felt my cheeks grow red.


    I glared. Well? Are you going to tell me how its done, or just poke fun at me until I figure it out?


    You didnt fall for the how do I fly bit, so I had to change tact. Saladius snorted. Though, shield on the ground, thats a new one.


    I stared at him until it seemed he was finally done laughing.


    This is really something you should have learned earlier. He indicated the platform beneath his feet. Not this, exactly, but something like it. Cant speak to the state of the enclave, but I cant imagine theres a lack of at least semi-competent air magicians.


    There were. I frowned, thinking back. The problem was, they all wanted me to start slow. Breathing exercises. Alignment with my element. Worse, they always wanted me to start in the same place, essentially offering me a feather when what I really wanted was a hammer, a way to achieve even a fraction of the power Id achieved that first night. There was likely a part of me that had avoided the secondary element as a matter of course, as it was too raw, electing instead to build on my knowledge and ability with the flame.


    I awakened recently


    Lie. Saladiuss smile disappeared instantly. Lie again and Ill have nothing more to do with you.


    Shit. How was he reading me? Okay I said, slowly, I awakened some time ago. Decided to focus my efforts elsewhere. Mostly on the demon-flame. It seemed more relevant and logical to do so.


    Mostly true. Wrong, but true.


    I ignored his blas tone. Its the fulcrum of what I need to succeed. Its stronger both offensively and defensively, better projectiles, better shields. And as my first element, its meant to be naturally stronger.


    Rendering that second element youve established practically useless.


    In my case, yes. I shrugged. There were exceptions. Using it as a delivery vector for alchemical mixtures, or for sparring, when I couldnt risk seriously injuring the other party.


    I mean, why even bother? Its not as if theres a massive population of infernals and elves that would quite literally kill for a second awakening. His voice was derisive, but it was too late to back down.


    I had my reasons, I said, more heatedly than I would have liked. And its not as if I ignored it entirely. Just in terms of basic utility, it already does what I need.


    Sure, Maya said, turning her attention back to Jorra. Another?


    Ha. And give you a chance to upset the draw? Gods no. Plus, I want to check on Bell.


    Maya and I exchanged a knowing look. We fell in line after Jorra, trudging through the sand. My mana supply was only half recovered, and my body felt stiff and heavy. There was a bump as Maya leaned over and nudged me with her shoulder.


    And to think, I was worried when neither of you were there this morning, She said.


    We, uh, bonded over ancient history, I grinned. Something that felt very much like a foot kicked me in the back of the leg, though Saladius was on the other side of Maya. I took a step to keep my balance. He was well ahead of us. How had he heard me? Was it somehow possible to use air magic to listen in from the distance? Amplify?


    Maya bumped me again.


    Sorry, I said, all too aware of the fact that Saladius was apparently listening. I kept my explanation as generic as possible. We just cleared the air. Clarified things.


    I had, perhaps, forgotten your ability to charm those who fall into your web, Maya smirked, looking over her shoulder at me.


    Dont say it like that. Like Im a spider lying in wait. I groaned.


    She began to list on her fingers. My family, Ralakos, the rangers, the half-demon queen of the enclave underworld, she threw the last one in almost casually, and her eyes went to my sword.


    I coughed to hide a laugh. Oh yes. Persephone. Captured in my thrall. Definitely not worried about the problems she might cause in the future.


    I have heard she is quite beautiful. Maya said, and there was that trace of something in her voice again, too subtle to identify.


    Scary, I corrected. Shes scary. The sort of person whos used to getting what she wants and knows exactly how to get it.


    That wasnt a denial, Maya observed.


    I blew air up, stirring my bangs. For all the talk of spiders I sure felt like Id walked into a web. This tension hadnt been there when shed left. Where was it coming from? If shed known the old me, itd make more sense: general concern that Id be out drinking and whoring the nights away. But she didnt, so the line of questioning puzzled me. Maybe I just gave off airs.


    Maya bumped me with her shoulder again. This time I bumped her back.


    She is aesthetically beautiful, yes. But shes way out of my age range. Not to mention, I cant even imagine that right now. Anything along those lines. Gods, I dont even know what Im going to do with Lillian. Shed been so high on my list of priorities. Marrying her. Protecting her from my father. Making her my queen. Righting the wrongs of my past life. But as the list of things Id have to accomplish grew and grew, I found that she kept slipping down the ladder of priorities, until now, where she sat apart from the list entirely, a question mark scribbled next to her name.


    I couldnt imagine bringing her into my world, where violence was constant and death was always a step away. And it would get worse before it got better.


    Oh, Maya said, her response only slightly delayed. When I glanced over to her, her face was neutral, giving away nothing. Hopefully, that had satisfied whatever had stoked her curiosity. If there was anyone I needed to believe I was taking all this seriously, it was Maya.


    We entered the hut, and Jorra went immediately to Bell, who was snoring quietly in her cot. He took the damp cloth from her forehead and tested her temperature with the back of his hand, then dipped the cloth again.


    Elder Saladius leaned close to us, keeping his voice down. She is doing better. The fits last no longer than a week. After a few more, shell be right as rain.


    I nodded. Hopefully, by that time, whoever had been tracking us would have followed the false trail Vogrin laid down out of the desert chamber, and we could continue on our way. In an ideal world, I would have spent a few months here with Saladius, honing the element I had mostly neglected. But nothing about this situation was ideal.


    Alright. I am going clean to the best of my ability and turn in. Sleep well. Maya put her hand on my arm, then turned and bowed to Elder Saladius. Saladius nodded, and Maya left. Saladius turned to me.


    I cant tell if youre actually an idiot, or smarter than you let on.


    Completely unsure where that point was coming from, but not wanting to upset the uneasy balance wed finally achieved, I shrugged.


    ----


    It took some time to fall asleep. As usual, the images tore at me. One scene in particular came to the surface. I was in Ralakoss study, in the midst of a discussion. It took me a moment to place it. It was the last time wed talked in the final loop, before Id made my deal with Ozra. The words were a dull roar at first, lips moving but nothing but static and white noise. Then slowly, things came in to focus.


    Is this really necessary? Ralakos asked me. He was trying to hide it, but he looked unsettled, disturbed.


    Yes. I could hear the distance in my voice. The apathy. The cold, ruthless calculation that had gripped me like a vice. Id told myself it was the end, but subconsciously, I still thought it wouldnt be over. That Id have another chance to do things right.


    If there is any other way


    There isnt, I snapped. Considering what Im sacrificing, Id think youd be slightly more cooperative.


    I am grateful. But that does not change the fact that I dislike this course, Ralakos said, steepling his fingers. It doesnt feel right. Whatever hes done, he is still one of my men. So let me ask you once more. Are you certain?


    I closed my eyes. Yes.


    ----


    There was a feeling at my neck, a warmth that grew continually hotter until it burned.


    I woke up and yanked the amulet away from my skin. There was no light coming from under the shutters. It was the middle of the night. I could only think of one reason why Vogrin would have woken me so harshly in the middle of the night.


    The perimeter was breached.

 Chapter 89: Sanctum XIV

    Chapter 89: Sanctum XIV


    I was outside the apothecary when he found me, leaned up against the back wall and out of sight from the main road that passed by the apothecary and led into the mercantile district.


    I held my pipe to my lips and cautiously puffed, careful to take only a small amount into my lungs. The yellow-green mix of herbs cherried red and blackened. Bitter, but it wasnt supposed to taste good. Then there was an explosion of stinging in the back of my throat and I lapsed into a fit of coughing.


    It was the damn nettles. It didnt seem to matter what I did to them, how I cured or soaked or prepared them, they always stung. The positive psychological effects were immediately undercut by the physical discomfort.


    My alchemy had grown by leaps and bounds, becoming innately tied with the process of apothecary itself, and Id begun to experiment. At the time I was looking for a less-expensive, more efficient replacement for some key components in the mage-bane potion. And it wasnt going well. After a few weeks of fruitless experimentation I was almost ready to throw up the white flag.


    Excuse me ser, I have this rash. It wont go away.


    I closed my eyes in irritation. Id made a habit of taking my breaks at the back of the apothecary for a reason. The locals had grown used to me, and now, peppering the child-prince on matters of apothecary had become something of a daily novelty. Casikas appreciated the extra business, but still, it grated when it took me away from more important things.


    Still, I had a business to represent. I said without looking at the offered arm, If youll head in through the front door and take a seat in the waiting room, the master apothecary is in and should be able to see you within the hour.


    A quality rebuff. Chilly, without being anything less than polite. The infernal chuckled. A familiar, warm sound, and the smile broached my face before I looked up. Kilvius was grinning down at me, sleeve still rolled up, his skin pristine.


    Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. That looks like a case of severe hypochondria. Terminal. I stepped forward and offered an arm. He hugged me instead, and I felt an irritating crawl of emotion in my chest. I held my still burning pipe out to the side, so the smoke didnt mar his clothes with scent, and after a moment, I hugged him back. Its good to see you, my friend.


    And you as well. Kilvius stepped away and flicked an overly long lock of blonde hair out of my face. Lord below, what have you done with your hair?


    Thinking of growing it out.


    With that oval, effeminate face? Really?


    Fuck off, I said, but the frank evaluation drew a laugh out of me regardless.


    Kilvius pointed to my pipe. Whats this?


    A failed experiment. I sighed.


    He took the pipe from me and held it to his lips. I almost warned him, but decided to have a little fun at his expense for comment on my features. It wasnt my fault I took after my mother. To my great disappointment, Kilvius didnt cough, but his light eyes immediately took on a glossy, reddish tinge.


    I see your problem, he said, his voice rasping.


    Its awful, really. Cant seem to find a balance. At this point, its probably better if I just move on.


    Maybe. But you have a tendency to give up to early. Kilvius took another, shallower pull from the pipe.


    And here I thought you didnt smoke.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    He rolled his eyes and breathed out. Trying to be a good influence on my wife doesnt make me a saint. Legacy of a misspent youth and so on. Alright, so I can feel the calming effect. He focused inward and frowned. Maybe slightly more focused?


    I took the pipe back from him and dumped the ash into the gutter. Ever taken an iron-lung potion? When he nodded, I continued. Then you know it has a strong calming effect. Sharpens awareness. Reduces anxiety to almost nothing, makes it easier to think under pressure. To plan, even when everythings burning down around you.


    And you wanted a method of recreating that without it costing a golden sliver every time. Kilvius mused.


    Exactly. The effect is almost invaluable, but only almost. Its exorbitantly expensive.


    And are you looking to reduce costs out of mere frugalness? Or because you want an inexhaustible supply? Kilvius asked. There was no judgement in his voice, but I knew he must have been thinking of the vurseng.


    I frowned, and let the silence hang. There was an undeniable upside to having people who knew me intimately, knew my weaknesses and foibles. The downside was moments like this, where any justification or excuse I made would be seen through immediately. I knew it as well as he did: I was looking for an edge at best, or a crutch at worst. The only difference between the two was the quantity I managed to get my hands on.


    Kilvius leaned against the apothecary building next to me. Back in the old days, when I was running with Persephone, we had a pre-job ritual.


    Oh?


    Wed pour a shot of the strongest liquor we could find. And I do mean strong. Foul. He wrinkled his nose. Pure rotgut. Our resources were limited, so usually something someone had distilled in a sink of questionable cleanliness.


    I shuddered. Id gone through a firewater phase back in Whitefall, after Lillian had disappeared, when the traditional spirits no longer felt strong enough, and I stopped caring about petty things like taste. The only thing that stopped me was athankfully temporaryloss of sight in one eye.


    Ah. Youre familiar with it.


    A bit.


    No.


    But the perimeter was breached?


    Correct. A third party, I would guess.


    Dammit. The associate Thoth warned me about. He would be a mage. A good one. That was far worse than a band of infernal children showing up on our doorstep. My mind began to race. This whole situation reminded me of Kholis. Being surrounded on all sides. Only, the variables had changed. My companions were less experienced in some ways but more powerful in others. Vogrin had given us an edge. An early warning before the pincer could snap closed.


    I cant find my extra control orbs, Jorra said, panic rising in his voice. He was referring to the beads of water sown into his whip that gave him higher control.


    Leave them. I said, trying to curtail the panic.


    But


    Jorra, Maya cut in, Were already outnumbered. Time is critical. If we take too long we lose our ability to control the battlefield. I caught Mayas gaze for a moment. Shed steeled herself. There was none of the latent panic from our encounters before the sanctum. She was ready for this, perhaps shed been ready since the moment we left the heart. Still, I felt for the others. Bell and Jorra. Outside of sparring and training this was the first time either of them had been in this kind of situation, and they were up against their own.


    Dont panic, I said. Focus on everything you need to do, one task at a time.


    Okay, Jorra said, Okay.


    I bent down in front of Bell, Can you walk? I asked.


    I think so. Its not as bad today, she said, her voice small, quiet. She stood with an audible grunt and swayed on her feet. No. That wasnt going to work. I shifted my pack and hefted her up onto my back. She made a surprised noise and looped her arm around my neck, careful not to choke me. It always caught me off-guard how small her hands were, considering her strength.


    Are we going to kill them? She asked. The words carried to Jorra, who paused, listening for the answer.


    I thought about it. They outnumbered us. They were likely stronger and more experienced. It might come down to that. But no. I didnt like the precedent it set. Playing by Thoths rules.


    I shook my head. Not if we can help it.


    She didnt answer, and I took that as silent assent. We assembled in the main room behind Elder Saladius, who stood in thin night clothes, staring at the door. He had no visible weapons.


    Whoever this is, Elder Saladius said slowly, his words stone sober. He thinks hes hot shit.


    Hes here?


    Nearby, Saladius confirmed. But hes not hiding. Hes leaking aura, to the extent I genuinely doubt its anything but intentional.


    The words clicked. Hes baiting you, I realized.


    That would be my assumption, yes.


    The intent was to divide, then. I worked through it, slowly. We had two options. Retreat, or move forward. Thoths associate had likely been the one to alter the path of the roving infernals, sending them towards us. He wouldnt be a heavy-hitter, then. Or at least not so heavy he felt confident in fighting us all with no backup. Something else. Something more underhanded, maybe. Now he was presenting himself. The goal was clear: to flush us out, divide us from Saladius and use the infernals to pick us off. Vogrin had missed him, which made me suspect hed been aware of the scouting and intentionally avoided it. Assuming that, it made sense that his intent was to make us retreat the way we''d come.


    Which meant we had to move forward through the incoming group.


    Elder Saladius looked us over, just a touch of fondness in his face before he opened the door and stepped out. We followed behind him. It wasnt dark, exactly. There wasnt much to mark the passage of time within the sanctum, but the light was dimmer, the sand cool. Elder Saladius stared at a distant outcropping.


    The man in the cowl stared back.


    My breath caught. It was him. The one that had laughed before anyone else in Whitefall, the night of the attack. The one that had been waiting for me alongside Thoth when I woke up in the carriage that first day in the Everwood.


    Elder Saladius didnt blink. Didnt break his gaze for a second. Then he stretched his arms and yawned, looking utterly unconcerned by the situation.


    Cairn, He said. It was the first time hed spoken my name.


    Yes? I asked.


    The sanctum can be a trial, even in the best of circumstances. Keep your head. Make sure they keep theirs. Dont lose yourself in this place. The wind ruffled his nightgown.


    I will. I promised. Will you be okay?


    Of course. Elder Saladius grinned. Ive been waiting for this for a very, very long time. Go.


    We turned and ran, away from the exit, in the direction of the infernals that had been chasing us. Distantly, I heard the cowled man laugh once more.

 Chapter 90: Sanctum XV

    Chapter 90: Sanctum XV


    Bell weighed heavy on my back. Her arms tightened to compensate for the jarring and jostling, restricting my airflow. I guess, I could count it as a blessing that this particular engagement had begun in the evening. The mild dark and fog likely worked as strongly against our enemies as it did against us.


    A burgeoning night wind swept by my face. Sand occluded my sight. Vogrin forged ahead, a dark shadow in the night, moving forwards then back, acting as a sentry and a scout all in one.


    I risked a glance behind me to ensure the others were keeping up. Maya had spread out and was keeping pace easily. Jorralikely due to the weight of his bagwas falling behind, head cocked to one side to try to keep everything balanced.


    I was about to raise a hand to slow our pace when a black shape flitted towards me. Vogrins pale-white, desiccated face appeared from the void, directly in my eyeline.


    Down, Vogrin snapped.


    We dropped. Bell tumbled off my back and fell prone to the sand. Vogrin laid beside me, supine, his hands moving in a complex motion and glowing white. The knee-high fog began to thicken the white shroud around us. Several moments passed, the silence marred by the hammering of my heart in my ears.


    Then, a foot stepped through the fog. And another. And another. There were ten people in all.


    Holy shit. Look at that light show, One of them said. A low voice, deep and muffled.


    Hes got started without us.


    He better not be planning to take the credit. The third voice sounded familiar, somehow. The boots it belonged to were smaller than the rest. A younger infernal? Ive invested far too much into this.


    Then lets pick up the pace. The first, low voice said. There was a general mutter of acquiescence and the group began to run. The sudden burst of movement parted the fog around us and left us exposed and in clear view.


    I held my breath. They continued to run. I craned my head, so I could watch them go. There were, indeed, around twelve. They seemed to be in a typical protection formation, shielding a small one in the middle. All blue and violet. The large infernals maintaining the perimeter of the formation looked older, likely on their last year of the sanctum. They were followed by a few smaller, weaker looking stragglers. One of the stragglers in the back looked behind him. His gaze scanned over us, and then stopped on me.


    My heart sank. There was no way he hadnt seen me.


    Which was why I was equally surprised when he turned back to the others and continued to run as if nothing had happened.


    We stood, silently, and continued our journey across the desert.


    ----


    It took several hours to reach the next chamber, despite knowing the path. There was simply too much ground to cover. The tunnel between the two chambers was short with no branches, leaving little question as to where we had gone.


    I walked through the entrance of the new chamber, and my ears popped. It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. In the desert, it had been twilight. Here, it was midday: The cloud cover was thinner, light radiating down through the crimson leaves of trees that looked vaguely tropical in nature. Wildlife called and crooned all around, invisible but ever-present, sounds all shrill and alien in nature.


    I stepped inward and nearly jumped back as the surface beneath my foot shifted. A thick spongey moss covered the ground. Layers of it. There was some give under pressure, but it seemed sturdy enough.


    A hand tapped me on the shoulder and I let Bell slide off my back, shifting her weight from side to side on the moss experimentally.


    I settled onto my knees, then collapsed onto my back, breathing hard. Maya sat beside me, her legs pulled to her chest, light eyes staring into the landscape beyond.


    Jorra had barely recovered before he threw his pack off, rounding on Vogrin. I could hear most of their conversation.


    How? How did they know? Jorra gesticulated wildly.


    Outside interference. The magician who engaged with Saladius is communicating with them somehow. Vogrin sounded irritated.


    Somehow? I thought you just knew these things, Jorra shot back.


    I can identify almost any magic if I see it used, but I am not omniscient.


    Jorra almost said something more, but held himself back. How much time do we have?


    Vogrin hesitated. Less than an hour.


    Jorra swore and stalked back towards us. Maya held out a water-skin for him and he took it, drinking deeply. I didnt blame him. We were all on edge. I needed to think. We couldnt keep on like this, evading and running, only to run again. The fog had been a lucky break. There was little chance of another.


    Bell? I asked. How are you feeling? If you had to give it a number.


    Bell, still testing the moss, paused in the middle of bending down to jump. Between one and a hundred?


    Thats fine. Zero being dead. A hundred being typical you.


    She took a moment to consider it. Seventy-five and a half.


    Specific. Maya leaned forward.


    Feels a lot better right now, Bell said, Maybe its this place, or the adrenaline, but Im feeling better than I have in a while.


    I watched her carefully, trying to ascertain if the estimation was true, or if she was just trying to tough it out. She was standing straighter, eyes alert. The shaking in her handsthough they still trembledhad stilled.


    After giving it a moment, I stood. I think we need to make a stand.


    They all looked at me. It was, in some ways, a retread of our conversation at the beginning of the runic desert, but things had changed since then.


    Jorra was about to speak, but I held up a hand to stop him. Hear me out. Theyve been on us since the heart. They havent slowed down. Furthermore, theyre more experienced and better equipped than us.


    Not really boosting morale, Jorra muttered.


    Then lets move to the staging ground. Bell, Jorra, you good to keep going? I included Jorra in the statement, but the one I was anxious about was Bell.


    Yep. Ill scout ahead, Jorra said.


    Im coming too, Bell said. I watched her go. Her gait seemed slightly offset, like shed bruised her heel in the fall. I hoped it wouldnt slow her down too much.


    Ready? Maya asked.


    I paused above Nox. Give me a minute.


    Maya gave me a knowing look. It was an expression that said much. Shed been there, at Kholis. Seen me in a situation not dissimilar to this. I wont tell you what to do, Cairn. But Jorra does not trust easily. If you violate his trust, you will not get it back so easily. With that, she turned and followed the others.


    I stared down at Nox, idiot that he was. Only a fool led mercenaries from the front. It would be so easy to end his life, as he had intended to end mine. Some of the older infernals might still want me dead, but they would be less motivated, less organized.


    Maya had said the paralysis could last up to twenty minutes, but might be far less. I sighed and put my faith in her. Wed just have to end this and sunder their party before it happened.


    Still. No one had forbidden me from slowing him down. I pulled my broken dagger and pressed it against Noxs right kneecap. His face remained frozen, but thought I saw his eyes widen, ever so slightly. I plunged the knife home, ignoring the fluids that bubbled up around it. Then I left him there.


    He could, inevitably, catch up. But someone would have to carry him.


    ----


    Wed predicted, correctly, that when things started to go badly for the infernals they would attempt to retreat towards the exit. They wouldnt want to escalate things with their employer captured, potentially in the line of fire, and would defer to rescuing him when given a better opportunity. It was partly why I decided against ambushing them at the entrance initially. The tunnel was short enough that the act of using it as a chokepoint in our favor could easily be reversed, and if they retreated to wait for the cowled mage time would not be on our side.


    I watched, with a tempered amusement, as the infernals backed away from Kastramoth, who guarded the entrance. He roared, and his awful howl vibrated the earth, shaking crimson leaves free from branches, where they floated to the mossy-ground below. One of them, a violet that looked much older than twenty, stepped forward. He didnt wear any visible weapon. A cloud of detritus and dirt floated up from the ground, covering his hands with oversized spiked gloves, rocks forming his knuckles.


    Captain? I whispered to Vogrin.


    They defer to him, yes, Vogrin confirmed.


    I had preparations to finish. Id selected the trees beforehand, flash burning the surrounding moss, making sure they were spaced out properly and the fire couldnt jump and get out of control the way it had in the Everwood. I was better at controlling my mana, preventing it from directly affecting my soul, but I didnt want to push it trying to extinguish a forest fire.


    The captain and half of the infernals turned away from the greater demon to face me.


    I have your boss. I said. And I have a feeling he wont be paying you if hes dead.


    The captain had long brown hair that was tied up in a tail that flowed out of his helmet. His face was littered with old scars.


    He grinned. Thats too bad. The little snot-nosed shit was paying a premium. But you know what? The humans paying more.


    The cowled mage. Of course.


    Ill double it. I said.


    Nah. He answered.


    You know who I am. Im not gold poor.


    Not really my style. Changing alliance. I took the humans gold because Im not a fool. Who would turn down higher pay and free supplies for the same thing. He steeled his expression, and I could tell there would be no changing his mind. His confidence unnerved me. We had them surrounded, and he didnt look the least bit bothered.


    Without further comment or preamble, I dropped to the ground and set the moss on fire. It spread in seconds along a cross-pattern of lines Id poured oil, racing past the captain to where the group of his men were clustered up.


    Scatter! He turned and shouted, and the men sprinted away from the entrance seconds before it became emblazoned in flame. I saw one of them drop, screaming as fire ate at his legs, and I breathed in the flame around him, leaving him whimpering on the floor.


    The captain dove towards me, fist covered in rock jabbing directly towards my face. I moved my head out of the way and had to drop to the floor after the fist shifted horizontally, expanding to hit me. I breathed out the flame at his side and the earth was spread out into an aegis.


    It surprised me. He was mixing elemental and weaving magic in a way Id never seen before, shifting from one smoothly into another.


    There was a flash of pain as something stabbed into my foot and I leapt back, using air to keep myself light, the pain redoubled when I landed. There was a patch of small, cruel looking spikes where Id been standing.


    I had a moment to take in the battle. Kastramoth was bowling into the mercenaries, trying to overwhelm them with momentum combined with his sheer mass. Maya rode on his back, staff held so the range was maximized, swinging down at the targets that had only just managed to get out of the way. Bell was entangled with a fire magician, using void to pick fireballs out of the air as he backpedaled away from her sword, each fireball. I used my fire to create small flare-ups, interrupting the mercenaries where I could, keeping them off-balance and unable to properly organize.


    Jorra bumped into my back, pushed there by several water magicians that were overpowering him with sheer numbers. Little help?! He shouted.


    Cover! I yelled back. Without taking my eyes from the captain, I called the air and reached in my satchel, sending a burst of flash-powder in a curving trajectory, timing it so it exploded at eye-level.


    There was a collective of shrieks and groans that told me Id hit the target.


    But the captain had capitalized on my distraction, and I felt the ground under me, moss severing as the ground split. I managed to avoid falling in the crevice, pushing myself to run faster as the gap widened. There was a blur of movement, and in an act of pure muscle memory I called an aegis, holding it up to my face just in time to watch a wicked looking stone spike crumple against it, inches away from my eye.


    The captain had fine-tuned control, along with being strong. But he looked concerned. The battle wasnt going in their favor. It was close.


    Then, it happened. In the background, I saw the infernal that had fallen firstthe one with the burns on his legsbegin to writhe, as if he was still on fire. The flesh of his legs and arms began to bubble, bulging.


    He roared, and more than a few heads turned to face his way. His right arm split in two, bisected from the third and fourth finger downward, the remnants forming a strange asymmetrical claw.


    His face changed, melted, until it was barely recognizable, eyes forming lines, mouth gaping open, teeth rearranged so they pointed outward.


    What the fuck?

 Chapter 91: Sanctum XVI

    Chapter 91: Sanctum XVI


    But now, watching the monster transform, I felt that plan slowly deflate to nothing. Its limbs extended further, body stretching out. Armor and clothing sloughed to the floor. Before the transformation, I would have estimated the infernal stood no taller than five feet. Now it was close to seven, body mass shriveling and desiccating in a wreath of torn and tattered flesh. The abominations left arm had shriveled to the size of a childs, its right growing garishly long, hand and fingers discarded for an elongated section of forearm that had split in two, looking almost like a wishbone. Electricity crackled loudly between the two points of bone, the air itself gaining charge.


    My attention was split between the new monster and the captain, who still advanced on me. The captain stared at me, only finally turning to look when several infernals around the monster yelled out in alarm. His jaw dropped.


    Okay. So, he didnt know.


    The fighting slowed, all parties backing away except for Kastramoth, who stood stubbornly next to the tunnel, still guarding it. Vogrin appeared at my side, his expression pale.


    What the hells is that? I asked.


    He looked as if he might answer, then held back. I dont know.


    A theory sprouted in my mind, taking root. The reason the cowled magician hadnt held his troops back. I called out to the captain. Those supplies you took.


    What? The captain snapped in confusion, as if unable to imagine why Id be speaking to him in these circumstances.


    You said you got gold and supplies from the human. Did any of those supplies include potions, by chance? Poultices?


    Nothing out of the ordinary, just supplements for endurance and he trailed off, confusion fading to horror.


    How many of your men took them?


    All of us, he said, face slackening as the reality of the situation dawned on him.


    Idiots. All of them. Gods dammit.


    Teos? A red infernal in heavy armor approached the creature cautiously. Lord below. He kept saying the name, as if he couldnt believe the infernal he knew and this thing were the same person. Teos


    The monster hacked a heavy, wet cough, spattering the infernal in dark-red blood. There was a low hissing like droplets of water splashing onto a fire. The infernal in heavy armor put a hand to his face, clearly in shock, then began to scream, clawing at his face, sending his helmet clattering to the floor. The spots of skin around his face that the abomination spattered with blood were sizzling, turning black. Another infernal dragged him away and dumped a water skin over his head. It didnt seem to help.


    The abomination watched the proceedings, its misaligned eyes hooded, looking almost docile and faraway. Then, it titled its head and held its elongated arm towards me.


    Slaughter. It howled, its voice raw and inhuman. Then, the electricity grew between the prongs of its forearms, forming an arcing ball. There was a high-pitched shrieking sound as the ball flew towards me. I formed an aegis, only to have it immediately shatter, nerves on fire as my arm jerked involuntarily.


    The captain seemed to recover himself then, and yelled at his men. I didnt hear what was said, but judging from how every infernal seemed to be preparing to fight, I assumed he had ascertained that the monster was on his side and planned to press the advantage.


    Everyone stayed away from the monster, who hung at the back, howling and sending massive projectiles towards me and the others, scattering us every time we drew close together. Bell managed to fell a fire magician, cutting him off at the knees. He rose, his rib cage extending and augmenting through his skin, fire setting him perpetually aflame as he skittered around supine on his rib cage. The fire he conjured itself seemed hotter, more dazzlingly red.


    After that, the fight turned desperate. Ugly. The infernal mercenaries had connected the dots. When they fell, they changed. Their efforts redoubled, pushed forward by adrenaline and fear.


    The captain continued to harry me with blows, each faster and more desperate than the last. He was sloppier than he had been, but that didnt mean much if he kept me so busy it was impossible to think beyond avoiding the next attack.


    Jorra focused on the fire abomination, chasing after it, trying to extinguish its flames and prevent it from ambushing us from behind. It was fast, but Jorra was faster, using his whip and patches of ice to slide beneath striking weapons and between legs. He dropped a wave of water on it, and it howled, skittering away, the fire temporarily doused to embers.


    The first abomination lowered its arm at me, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck start to rise as the electricity arced dangerously across its arm. It was bowled over by Kastramoth, who had finally abandoned his posting at the tunnel. He stomped on it, leveraging his full weight, and I heard the sounds of multiple bones splintering. Then, the abomination pressed his prong against Kastramoths gut, and both slumped and shuddered.


    A sword bit into my armor, glowing purple. The void washed over me and I jumped away, glaring at the infernal that had interrupted my duel. My sword extinguished, and I was trapped between the two of them, the void blocking my leylines and rendering me unable to externalize mana. The two of them pressed me and I found myself pushed back. Void was the weakness of most magicians, and I was no exception. A sword caught my shoulder, another my side. I tried to trap one, force them to bump into each other, but they were too well-trained and kept their distance. I pulled a handful of flash-powder from my satchel, but the flat of a blade caught my wrist before I could combust it.


    More void.


    We were going to lose. And it was my call. My fault.


    Maya vaulted over me, using the tip of her staff to propel herself into the two overwhelming me. She hit them high and hard, and her hand went to the void magician''s throat, hand green. He hit the ground, paralyzed. She lashed out at the captains face, and he took a leap backward. Before he could follow up, Maya was on me.


    Call for help when you need it, Nilend. She grabbed my arm and warmth flowed through me.


    I was fine, I groused.


    Sure you were. She smiled. Then I pushed her to the side as the captain called a half-dozen spikes from the ground in a vertical line.


    I dont want to distract you, but I wouldnt be much of an advisor if I didnt say that now would be a good time to stop holding back. Vogrin whispered in my ear. I turned back towards the clearing, and saw that a third abomination had risen. Another fire magician.


    I gritted my teeth. He wasnt wrong, but the problem was a tactical one. The infernal group was staying mostly cautious around the abominations. If I went all out and killed the abominations, they would descend on us hard, trying to end things quickly. I needed to strike a balance. And for what it was worth, he was right. I couldnt go easy.


    The captain faked left and went right, juking around Maya and leaping straight towards me, as he had at the beginning of the fight. A massive stone fist drove directly at my face. There was no point in blocking it. I hadnt completely recovered from the void effect and the aegis would shatter immediately. Instead, I directed the flow of mana into my left arm. Into Ozras inscription.


    I held out my hand and caught his fist. There was a shockwave that sent up dust and debris. The captain stared in shock, staring at my hand. My gauntlet had disintegrated in the impact, and my arm had turned black up to my elbow. My fingers extended into claws. I flexed my wrist, the points of my fingers digging into his hand and he grunted, going down on one knee, his eyes widening.


    You should have taken my offer, I growled. Without taking the time to think about it, I grabbed him by the shoulder for leverage and raked my dark razored fingers up his arm. They dug in through the armor easily, tearing through ligaments and veins.


    From the other side, Jorra froze, staring at the blood, the aftermath of the captain falling back, clutching at his ruined appendage, trying to staunch the flow. He turned back to the abomination, but the distraction had costed him. It wiggled out from beneath another body and leapt atop him. He held back from his face barely, its ruined mouth snapping shut over and over.


    Jorra! I yelled out. But Maya was faster, already halfway across the clearing before Id even registered what had happened. She swung her bow in a downward its face, and it skittered backwards.


    But she wasnt expecting what happened next. You hit a normal living being, you expect a reaction, a moment of shock before the recovery. But these things were anything but normal. It lurched backwards, then immediately skittered forwards, using the power of its back legs to throw itself towards her. Maya held her hands up a moment too late. Long, bone-like fangs sunk into her shoulder.


    I roared. I ignored the captain bleeding out at my feet and ran, sword held above my head. Bell got there a second before me and stabbed the abomination through its side, yanking its head back. Displaying its fangs. I swung with all my strength, not even bothering to angle the blade, and the abominations head cracked open beneath the flat of my blade. It wriggled on its back, trying to right itself before I brought my sword down through its guts, pinning it to the ground. Violet fire spread from its abdomen and I called to it, pouring mana through it, flames growing so hot it was nigh unbearable.


    The thing wriggled, its death knell crooning higher and higher in pitch until I reached down with my left hand and crushed its skull, its remains splattering out against the ground. The flames surrounded me, warming me.


    I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. One of the remaining infernals. He stood up, preparing to charge and then froze in my gaze. I walked towards him slowly, letting the tip of my sword drag, leaving a trail of flame. Two more behind him tensed.


    Go. I said. Kastramoth had just disentangled himself from the third abomination, leaving it crushed on the floor. The others didnt move, but discretely eyed the exit. Go now. I repeated, my voice raw, just below a roar. Something dripped off my left hand. Or you will wish that you had.


    You have to stay still, Maya.


    Its burning. Tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. She clutched her throat.


    Whats burning? I stroked her face, put the back of my hand against her forehead.


    My chest, my throat. Maya coughed, the sound heavy with fluid, followed by a gag.


    I pulled Maya up gently, placing her back against my chest and held her, unsure of how to comfort her. Vogrin watched quietly. After a moment, he wordlessly pointed to her chest. There were a series of red marks following the circulation of blood, down towards her heart. I shook my head, angrily. No. The antidotes would work. Id prepared.


    Id prepared.


    Vogrin disappeared in the direction Jorra had gone.


    The clearing, so loud with the noise of the wounded and the sound of magic earlier was silent.


    Maya shuddered in my arms. I did my best to hold her still, keep her steady. All the while, my anger grew alongside my despair. If it had been anyone but her, it would have been okay. But she couldnt use healing magic on herself. For some reason, my thoughts went to that first loop in the enclave. When Id awakened to my second element.


    It gave me an idea.


    My voice was barely more than a whisper. Touch your soul to mine.


    Maya stiffened, and I suddenly felt guilty, like I had to explain myself. Both times I awakened, I was backed into a corner. Theres a chance, isnt there? A possibility of transference I know its not a guarantee, and its a sacred thing, but if theres even the smallest possibility I might be able to heal you


    Her back shuddered in a rhythmic pattern. For a single horrified moment, I thought she was sobbing. Then I heard the sound I realized it was the opposite. Laughing, instead of crying.


    Okay, well, Im glad you find this funny. I felt my face growing red.


    I am not laughing at you, Nilend. I am laughing because we are so similar. The chuckling trailed off, and she heaved for breath. Then she reached back and touched my face. Something tickled at the back of my mind. A reminder of a conversation I thought Id imagined.


    So be it. But there is a something you must do.


    When? I asked.


    When we first reached the enclave, Maya said, shaking her head, her voice far away. Your soul was in tatters. There was nothing I could do for you. Nothing any healer could do for you. You had just saved my life twice over, and they wanted to let you die. I begged for aid. Made a fool of myself. No one could understand why. They did not know you like I knew you. They did not understand.


    My jaw worked, as I put the pieces together. Ephira.


    Not directly. A magician came to me, from the healing quarter. I take it she was one of Ephiras. She came under the guise of offering assistance but what she really wanted was to take you away. To ensure you died outside the enclave. And in my panic to save your life, I betrayed your nature. Your visions. I am sorry for that.


    Dont be sorry. I said. Dont be sorry. You kept me alive. Im not sorry. There was some part of me that didnt want to hear more. Every word was agony. Every word made it worse. But I didnt dare interrupt her.


    The magician gave up when it became clear I would not let you go. But before she left, she said if I tied my soul to yours, there was a chance you might live through the night. She almost said it like an insult Mayas head started to slide down my chest and I shifted to move it back into place, then buried my head in her hair.


    The selflessness of it staggered me.


    So, you did it. I whispered. My vision blurred.


    Mother was so angry. Maya sighed.


    I thought back to the way Nethtari had treated me, when Id first awakened in Guemons cell. The suspicion. The coldness. And the borderline hostility when I got too close to Maya.


    I thought she hated me. I admitted.


    From getting me back, to finding out Id brought a human prince home with me, to finding out Id tied my soul to his. She thought you planned to steal me away. Maya snickered, and I couldnt help but laugh.


    So rebellious.


    I was I am sorry, Cairn.


    Stop saying sorry.


    No. For this, I must be. Im sorry I did not ask your permission.


    You were looking out for me.


    Please understand that I did what I did with no expectations. I knew that your heart was taken.


    Thats right. I told you about Lillian. Outside Kholis. But you did it anyway.


    Why give that up? I asked, my voice raw.


    Well, you did save my life. That factored in. Maya laughed. But the visions you saw your city burned, and your people slaughtered, and despite all that, you chose to extend an open hand rather than a fist A series of explosive coughs racked Mayas body, and she leaned over to spit blood onto the ground. That was so beautiful, to me. The better world you spoke of so passionately. I fell in love with the idea. I wanted to be there to watch you build it. After the sanctum, I wanted to join you, if you would have me. As a trusted friend. And that would have been enough.


    I was I cleared my throat and tried again. I was going to ask Mayas head rolled back, and I gripped her tightly as she started to seize. Her breath came in shallower gasps and her hands dug into my arms, nails digging into my skin and drawing blood as her back arched in one final, horrible breath. There was a rattle, deep and horrible. Then her face froze, her mouth slackened, eyes staring at nothing.


    I was going to ask you to come with me. Because I cant imagine doing all that without you.


    Slowly, I lowered her to the ground. The tears didnt come. Because as much as it hurt, as raw as it was, I knew the truth. I couldnt let it end this way. It didnt matter if it was logical, or rational. It was right.


    I closed her eyes gently, and felt my chest hitch.


    See you soon, Nilend.

 Chapter 92: Sanctum XVII

    Chapter 92: Sanctum XVII


    I approached Kastramoth. My feet felt heavy, as if I was walking through a swamp. Kastramoth didnt look at me. Rather, his posture was solely focused on her.


    Youll go to Jorra next, wont you? Given the circumstances.


    Kastramoth huffed. Do not speak as if I have we have a choice. The blood oath is absolute.


    I sneered. Right. As if you would care. Though she showed you mercy. Spared your legion the decimation.


    His eyes grew dark, and he leaned down with his head to the side to peer at me closely. It would be wise not to provoke us, human. I stared him down, and after a moment, he looked away, and the tension that had bubbled between us fizzled out. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Despite not letting us sate our baser desires, she was a better master than most. We do not think her brother will hold a candle.


    I nearly looked back, Mayas body hovering in the corner of my vision before I tore away from it, looking out into the crimson canopy of the trees.


    I need a favor. I said, finally. The air shifted as Kastramoth moved.


    As if we would


    You owe me. My frustration and grief boiled over. I wanted to banish you, seal you away with the demon-fire. And yes, Maya might have intervened, but ultimately the choice was mine.


    What do you want? An award? Our gratitude? Kastramoth chuffed out a breath.


    When I die. Tell them to take my body back to the heart.


    What? Kastramoth jerked, not understanding. But I turned away from him and made the return trip back to Mayas body. As far as preparing for the possibility this might not work, that would have to do. The last thing I wanted was for them to continue on half-assedly in our honor. If I did not come back, their part in this was done.


    My amulet burnedVogrin had heard what I said. He wanted an explanation, no doubt. There was a reason Id relayed the instruction to Kastramoth rather than Vogrin. Partly, I simply understood the hulking demon better. Kastramoth had his own demonic proclivities and tendencies, as well as a terrible temper, but at the end of the day he was more concerned with his own survival than any greater agenda.


    I couldnt say the same for Vogrin. His greater loyalty would always be to Ozra. Not to mention, I had no idea what would happen to him after I died. The amulet burned brighter until it sizzled against my skin. Grunting, I yanked it free and the thin chain around my neck broke. The amulet slid from my fingers and bounced off the ground where it continued to shift and vibrate.


    There was no reason to keep putting it off. I poured maya into the inscription on my chest, sending it through the maze of lines and pathways until it activated. Almost simultaneously, my vision went black.


    ////////


    The void welcomed me. But something was wrong. There was no feeling of being dragged backwards or any movement. I hung there, suspended in nothingness, unable to see or feel, as a deep-rooted fear began to fester. Fear that I had been right. That I had over tapped my gift in the enclave, wounded it, and it was not something that regenerated over time.New novel chapters are published on


    I tried to preoccupy myself with numberssimple math to keep my mind occupied, only giving up when I reached the thousands.


    My despair reached a fevered pitch. Was this all there was for me, after? I would take an eternity in hades over this, this horrible, gaping, endless nothing in which nothing was born, and nothing died. Time-stretched on. I willed something to happen, anything. But there was nothing there but the darkness. The fear and anxiety came in crippling waves, rationality only staunching the outflow of emotion intermittently.


    Of all the beliefs Id encountered, reincarnation was the through-thread. Everyone started over eventually. But what if things were different, for me, because of the gift Id been given? What if all my lives were destined to be lived out over the same timeline, and when my time was up, I simply retired to the void, and floated alone forever.


    As much as I tried to push the fear down, my mind came back to it, over and over, every thought circular, leading back to that single terrifying thought.


    If I had a mouth, I would have cried out in relief when I finally felt movement. Not my own, but external. The great black beast approached slowly. As before, I didnt see it so much as I sensed it; a massive, hulking outline that approached, dwarfing me with its size.


    He ignored me. There will be others who fall. You cannot save them all. That is not your purpose. Sunder the lynchpin. End the cycle. Abuse the power again, and face the consequences. For now, let this be a lesson.


    Before I could ask what he meant, the darkness pulled me back, sending me hurtling into nothingness


    Again.


    //////


    There was a wave of nausea as I snapped back into myself. My vision blurred, obfuscating constant movement in my surroundings. I was breathing hard. My left arm felt heavy, constricted. It came slowly into focus as blood and viscera ran down the razor sharp tips of my blackened fingers.


    Sound came next, roaring into my ears. The pitchy screech of magic flying overhead. The scent of burning trees. A choked groan, the captain on the ground below me, clutching his ruined arm trying to stop the bleeding.


    Let this be a lesson.


    Horror set in. Id indeed gone back. But not nearly far enough. Again Jorra froze, staring at what Id done to the captain.


    Behind! I shouted, and began to run. Jorra turned back to the abomination, but Id only bought him a second, if that. It wiggled out from beneath another body and leapt atop him. This time Jorra managed to hold on to his whip, pushing it up against the abominations neck. Its ruined mouth snapped down at him.


    When Maya ran forward this time I was ready. There was no time to think. I sent a quick burst of air at the back of her legs, sending her tumbling to the ground.


    Was this the lesson? Was the beast mocking me, putting me in an impossible situation and making me choose between two allies?


    No. I would never accept that. I called the wind, sending considerable swathes of powder crisscrossing in front of me, immediately detonating in a series of explosions that stunned both Jorra and the abomination, praying that Jorra wouldnt lose his grip in the distraction.


    The abomination recovered first, and charged towards me. I brought my sword down, the blade squelching as it sank into its back. I was prepared for its muted reaction having seen the way it reacted to Maya, and jumped back. But the creature was smart. However it had been made, it maintained some of the same intelligence of its host. It feinted towards me first, and once I was unbalanced, leapt at me again. I managed to twist out of the way, but a fang took me in the arm.


    With a practiced motion, I swung my sword edge up against its throat and began to saw. Even as it died, I felt the temperature leaving my body. My gut tightened. The venom was a death sentence, I knew that all too well.


    Id killed it, but without the display of power and brutality I had before. I watched, numb and helpless, as the remaining mercenaries tried to finish the fight quickly.


    Jorra was saying something to me, trying to pull me up, as I saw a small form trapped in a sphere of water, slowing drowning. Bell.


    Why dammit? Shed been fine before. What had changed? Had the series of events in the center distracted her?


    I tried to point to her, but my movements as sluggish as my mind. It did answer the question of where Bell had gone in the chaos. Shed been pushed back into the tree line and was fighting along the left side until now. Bell struggled within the sphere, swinging her sword, trying to hit the edges of the spell with void.


    The last I saw of Maya, she was struggling against an earth magician, trying to fight her way to me when a spike of dirt shot upward, piercing through her middle. She looked down at it, surprised.


    I swore. No. Not again. I wouldnt let it be for nothing. Weakly, I pushed the mana through the inscription at my chest, hoping that I wasnt interpreting the cryptic message wrong and the beast wanted me to struggle, rather than fail.


    Blackness.


    Again.

 Chapter 93: Sanctum XVIII

    Chapter 93: Sanctum XVIII


    This was different. There was no ebb and flow. There was violence, immediately followed by death. Over and over.


    This time, Id tried lighting the abomination on fire with pure elemental magic, as I had with Barion. It worked to keep the abomination from biting Jorra, but before I could quench the fire it latched itself to him and flattened its body against his chest, burning him badly. Id pivoted away to help Bell with the water magicians, and when Id turned around, Maya was bleeding out from a dagger in her back, and Jorra had died. I wasnt quite sure how. The burns didnt look extensive enough to kill him. Some part of me wondered if the way Maya had collapsed on top of him had restricted his breathing.


    Cairn. I started as someone took my hand and looked down to find Bell, her face pale and drawn, eyes glued to the bodies. Her hilt was empty.


    Wheres your sword, Bell? I asked, answering my question when I saw it, discarded a few feet away.


    I want to go home, Bell said. She sounded young, far younger than her age. I hugged her to me. Please dont make me keep going. I want to go home.


    Okay. Well go, I said, my voice raw. Just need to do something, first.


    //////


    I learned more and more about them. Things I had wondered but never truly wanted to know. What their triggers were. What made them break.


    Id tried being more brutal this time, going out of my way to break or permanently maim every mercenary I could get my hands on.


    Jorras fist lashed out. I could have stepped out of the way but found I didnt care to. That would only drag things out. His blow landed, sending me spinning to the ground. We were the only ones left, and with no other outlet, he clearly blamed me. I began to channel mana into the inscription on my chest when the heel of his boot connected with the side of my head, flooring me and dissolving my focus. I saw stars.


    Slowly, I sat up, fixing him with a stare. Are you done?


    Tears ran down his cheeks as he stood over me with his fists clenched at his sides. How can you be so cold? He wiped his face with his arm. Bell was my friend. Our friend. And my sister I thought you loved her. She loved you.


    The words hit like a slap in the face. I almost felt them. And I wanted to comfort him. But the truth was, this was the only time I had to think and plan. The ice in my chest grew, became more fortified. I told myself it was because it didnt matter because he wouldnt remember any of this. But I think the truth was it was starting to lose impact. Watching them die over and over again with no downtime in between. Maybe that was what the beast wanted. Or maybe I was supposed to find the optimal result and just stick with it, letting it go.


    I couldnt give him the answer he wanted. So, I stayed silent as he cried, vowing to myself that the next time would be the last time.


    //////


    I was getting faster. Id nearly perfected using air magic to communicate simple sentences. That meant I could tip Bell off about the water magicians blind spot, ending that part of the conflict far more quickly. Bell almost always made it through now, thanks to that small change. And this was the first time Maya lived. It should have been a considerable victory. The problem was, Kastramoth didnt always crush the electric abomination, leaving it free to pelt us from afar. Id been preoccupied with it, and because of that wed lost Jorra. Hed stumbled near the captain, and the captain sliced through his left leg, severing an artery, which hed bled out from before Maya could get to him. It was the first time the captain had interfered, and I found myself frustrated. What was the point of being able to repeat a scenario if small elements could set off such massive changes?


    Maya held Jorra in her arms, in a scene that felt all too familiar. She held him to her chest and sobbed. She wasnt angry. There was no lashing out or assignment of blame didnt blame me. She didnt shut down. She just grieved, weeping in big gasping breaths.


    Your sight did not warn you? She asked between grit teeth.


    No. Nothing,


    Then we must be more careful She cut off, choking, in the future.


    Im sorry, Maya.


    Maya whispered in Jorras ear. Why did you not keep your mind in the fight, Nilend? What am I supposed to tell mother and father? What is the point of being a life mage if I cannot even save my own blood?


    I remembered holding my own sister, her body burned and broken. How powerless I felt. The ice in my chest thawed. Slowly, I reached out a hand towards Mayas back. Then I let it drop. I didnt deserve to comfort her. Not after Id let her down so many times.


    Someone groaned. I surveyed the field, looking for the source. One of the younger mercenaries was dragging himself across the ground, making a painfully slow escape towards the tree-line. I studied him through the lens of detachment, and finally decided I would grant him his wish. I left Mayas side and grabbed him by the backplate of his armor, dragging him towards the trees. He tried in vain to reach back and free himself, his groggy voice rising in alarm.


    A few feet past the clearing, I lifted him to a sitting position and propped him up against a tree.


    Cant He licked his lips, tried again. Cant feel my legs. Then, his eyes glazed over, and he seemed to drift away.


    The black beast droned on about how my time was growing short. I ignored him. In truth, I didnt trust myself to speak to him without making things worse. He asked me a question, and I kept my mind blank. Instead, I focused on the task at hand. I had all the information I needed. Now, I needed to lock in and make it count.


    The void pulled me back. I snapped back into my body. My eyes focused immediately. I threw my arm back, the captains blood spattering the face of the infernal behind me, blinding him.


    It took less than a second to find Bell at the edge of the clearing. I was already casting, air carrying the necessary sound waves across a small network of portals. She was fighting the water magician. He took a step backward, which was good. That meant she was getting the better the exchange and wouldnt end up trapped in the sphere.


    Id said the words so many times I no longer needed to physically form them, saving precious time. Hes partially blind in one eye. Batter him from the left, then rush the center.


    I saw her head shift minutely. Shed heard me. I didnt wait to see the result. I gathered the air around us, the breeze ruffling through my clothes, and drove my heel down as Saladius had shown me. My ears popped as the surrounding air displaced, and the distance between Jorra and the abomination shrunk by half. The powered inscriptions on my legs carried me the rest of the way, well ahead of Maya.


    Jorra wasnt doing as well. The abomination was exerting more weight in the correct place, and Jorra would lose his grip at any moment. I wrapped the whip around the flaming abominations neck twice, ignoring the flames that nipped at my unprotected skin, held it tightly in my left hand, and expended the power of the gauntlet and the inscriptions on my legs for maximum leverage. Several of the control orbs in the whip shattered as the length pulled taut, and the abominations neck collapsed, windpipe flattened as it flew over my head.


    But the angle was off. It slammed into the mossy ground, missed the electric abomination by a foot. Kastramoth was behind.


    I swore. The abominations were the most unpredictable part of this engagement. Perhaps their minds were unstable or they simply had poor eyesight, but they had a nasty tendency to randomly switch targets.


    The electric abomination glanced at his fellow, then raised his right arm, aiming past me. Bell was facing off the earth and void magicians that tended to rush Maya from behind, but the electric abomination was aiming at them. Maya was helping Jorra up, both unaware of the imminent danger.


    I had no plan for this. It was the first time Id managed to communicate with Bell at the beginning and successfully use the displacement technique, and between that and powering the inscriptions in my legs I was running dangerously low on mana. If I summoned an aegis, I wouldnt have enough left to deal with the void magician when he broke away.


    I glanced at Ozras gauntlet, remembering how it had protected me the first time against the abominations projectile. But the aegis had partially broken the impact


    Before I could finish the thought, the abomination leveled its arm, ball of electricity flying towards Mayas exposed back.


    Fuck it. I dove to intercept, bracing the gauntlet with my free-hand. The impact blew me backwards, cancelling out sideways momentum, and a million tiny daggers danced up and down my arm. I tapped my quickly depleting mana supply to right myself, miraculously landing on my feet. The abomination was already following up with another sphere and about to fire.


    But I had other problems. The black gauntlet glowed dark blue and the feeling of tiny blades piercing my skin intensified. Unsure of what to do but overcome with the feeling something was about to happen, I held my hand out, away from my body. An arc of lightning shot from the gauntlet with enough force to make me take a step back. It collided with a tree, gouging the the surface and showering the abomination with splinters of wood. It reeled, screeching, and I realized some of the shrapnel had gotten in its eyes.


    Kastramoth landed on top of it, crushing the abomination against the ground.


    I couldnt revel in the victory. Not yet. I turned, looking for the void magician who always seemed to slip through at the last moment. Hed managed to get past Bell and was rushing towards the softest target: Jorra, who was still looking for his weapon. Jorra saw him coming and tried to leap away, but a soft patch of moss caught his boot and sent him stumbling to the ground.


    I called the wind and the wind swelled up for a moment before dissipating. The color went out of my vision. My mana was tapped. Correcting my fall had taken more out of me than I thought it would. I closed my eyes. This had all happened before. Maya would intercept, put herself between Jorra and the void magician, but shed miss the dagger in his hand.


    I ran through the mental checklist in a fraction of a second. If I used demon-fire, I risked disabling myself, making another attempt far more difficult, if not impossible. Alchemy was out, not fast enough. He was too far away to reach him with my sword. And my sword-breaker


    I opened my eyes. It was beyond desperate, pushing into the realm of borderline impossible. But Id come this far. I pulled my sword breaker, minding the weight. Mentally, I tried to keep everything Bell had tried to teach me in mind. Rotation. The movement of the wrist. The distance the blade would have to travel. I didnt think about the fact that the weight of the sword breaker was off, or that Id barely been able to stick a knife into the surface of a stationary target.


    I held the shattered sword breaker up, next to my ear, and flung it forward. It spun through the air, and I felt my heart sink. It was rotating horizontally as well as vertically. There was no way it would connect. It would miss. And Maya would die. Again.


    I looked away. But there was no scream.


    When I looked back, the void magician wavered on his feet. His eyes were blank. He held a single hand up towards his face, where the sword breaker had buried itself up to the hilt. Slowly, he fell to his knees, and slumped to the side.


    After so many failures, I could hardly believe what I was seeing.


    The remaining two magicians ran, as they had the first time. I nearly commanded Kastramoth to run them down, but then remembered the fear in Carvirs face. The realization that, at no matter how misguided, they were children. Victims. I let them go.


    We made it. All of us.


    The black beast had been wrong. I didnt have to choose. Maybe I would, in the future. But for now, Id savor the victory, and try my best to forget how perilously we had teetered on the edge of the abyss

 Chapter 94: Sanctum XIX

    Chapter 94: Sanctum XIX


    Catching the electric orb with my gauntlet was repeatableensuring that the bolt of discharge hit the nearby tree, showering the abomination with sparks and throwing off its aim, was not. Kastramoth, likewise, could not be relied upon to finish the abominations in a timely manner. But the crowning impossibility came at the end: the critical moment when Id thrown the shattered sword breaker. It was a feat so astronomical it would have been easy to chalk it up to the fates, even the gods themselves. But I knew pure luck when I saw it.


    That was it, in the end. We were lucky.


    I watched the gauntlet dissipate with muted interest, disintegrating to ash. The violet inscription lettering inflamed on my skin briefly. It was far more complicated than the other inscriptions, each line made up of tiny individual lettering, some inverted, some backwards. It could have almost be beautiful, if I didnt know what it was. If I hadnt sworn to never invoke it, only to do so anyway at the first sign of crisis. Slowly, it faded to black and then gray, then disappeared into the pigment of the skin beneath, ink swirling away like water drained by sinkholes. I shook my head.


    Cairn, Mayas voice called from behind me, cautious. What was that?


    My mind moved backwards, as I contemplated how to answer.


    /////


    It had been an average day in the enclave when Ozra approached me. There had been no real indication or early warning he was coming. Id seen him two months prior during one of our last strategy sessions, long discussions on the future that always started cordial, and ended resembling the interrogations Id undergone at their hands, sans violence. I knew from that prior experience that Ozra had some sort of method to discern truth from lie, so I went out of my way to present a front of honesty to make up for the aspects of the discussion that would read as falsehoods, such as the truth of my curse or my nascent plans for when Thoth had fallen.


    As a result, Ozra knew more about my plans for the future than anyone, Maya included. It somehow managed to make me even more wary of him than I already was. Which is why, when I was under the knife on the inscription table, his face floating into my eyeline from above, head ensconced in the harsh light from the mana lamp in an almost perverted halo, my heart immediately kicked into overdrive.


    I tried to keep my expression neutral but felt that I had inevitably failed. Arch-fiend.


    Progeny, Ozra replied. I frowned at the title. It was new, and I wasnt sure I liked the implications it brought. Ozra was wearing a simple robe that left him indistinguishable from any other infernal in the enclave, but he should not have been able to set foot in this place, or anywhere within the enclave for that matter.


    Why are you here? And for that matter, how? I asked carefully.


    He was studying the inscriptions across my body with the eye of a scholar or academic, brows eventually coming down in a puzzled frown. Based on our previous conversations, I understand the intent of these. He held out a finger but did not touch my skin, tracing the lines. You are shoring up weaknesses. You dont have time for rout, impractical study of magic that takes years before it renders utility. Even this, he pointed to the suicide inscription across my chest, Stems from not cowardice, but understanding. That there are some fates worse than death. His cold eyes returned to mine. Which leaves the question: why enlist an infernal to work with demonic inscriptions, when you could go straight to the source?


    The question caught me out. I wasnt fooled by the placid, unmovable act. Ozra was displeased. But the degree of his irritation seemed out of place.


    I tried to sit up, and a spike of pain went up my left arm, sharp at first, then slow and pulsing.


    Dont move, a voice called out. The infernal that had worked with me on my inscriptions so far. I twisted my head to look at him. He was pushed up against the wall by a greater demon I took to be Ozras new second. Ozras head slowly swiveled to look at the infernal, who shrunk under his gaze.


    Was that a command? Ozra challenged. There was an edge in his voice, as if implying that the best answer to the question would be none at all.


    The infernal shrank down further. Surprisingly, he found his tongue. No not a command. But I-it hasnt set yet. If you move, you risk ruining it, possibly compromising the surface for any future inscriptions as well.


    Ozra tilted his head towards me. The stones on that one. I like that. I can see why you chose him. But that still begs the question of why you chose an infernal at all.


    Damn. Ozra was too fixated on this point. I wouldnt get out of this without giving him an answer. A partial truth would have to suffice.


    I spoke carefully. My mother had a saying. If you find yourself indebted to a man and repay him quickly, you have made a debtor into a friend.


    The side of Ozras mouth quirked. The inverse being, if you continue you borrow, you risk converting friend to enemy.


    A response didnt seem necessary, so I remained silent.


    Ozra sighed. Whatever the real reason is, the fact remains that what you are doing runs in conflict with the crux of your plan: using whatever power necessary to bring your rogue magician to heel.


    My left arm throbbed as I considered that. There was no question that Ozra and I were diametrically opposed in many ways, but in this, he wasnt wrong. What is your solution, then?


    He looked over my inscriptions again. This is decent enough. Workmanlike, but too exceptional and the infernals will start asking questions. So, continue what youve been doing.New novel chapters are published on


    My surprise must have been evident because Ozra made a sound deep in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. And when youre done with your work here, report to the twilight chambers, and we will augment. Youre human, so I imagine mana infused gossamer manipulated in the muscle layer will suffice.


    Youll kill him. The infernal at the door exclaimed, then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth and grunted as the greater demon pushed him harder against the wall.


    Careful, mortal, Ozra said. You are favored by my progeny, which is the only reason you are still breathing.


    The outburst gave me cause for concern. Is he right? Whats the risk on this?


    Maya stiffened in surprise at first. But slowly, I felt her hands circle my waist. You are shaking.


    It was close, I whispered.


    We are all fine. Jorra and Bell are okay. We made it. Her voice was so soothing it made me ache. I didnt say anything. Instead, I tried to let the anxiety go. Her hand braced my neck, and the crippling fear Id suppressed for so long began to drift away. Gentle hands braced against my chest and pushed me back, ending the embrace. She searched my expression. What happened? Your mind is a tempest.


    The visions came too late, I shivered. Remember Kholis? It was like that, but worse. Dozens of visions over the span of minutes, instead of hours. I saw you die, Nilend. Over and over. And there was nothing I could do.


    A mix of understanding, sympathy, and something else flooded Mayas face. She was about to speak when we were interrupted.


    Guys? Bell called. You better get over here.


    Whats wrong? Maya called back, not taking her eyes from me.


    Its Jorra, Bell said, her mouth set.


    Maya looked at me once more, then squeezed my arm. We will finish this conversation, later.


    I nodded, and followed Maya, footsteps sinking into the moss we hurried back to the clearing.


    //////


    Jorras face was flushed, and he vented angrily in my direction as Maya held him back. It was, in many ways, a repeat on a variation of a fight wed had several times within the loop. It wasnt as heated as the iterations where both Maya and Bellarex had died, but I couldnt blame him for his furor.


    From his perspective, Id made him a promise we would go out of our way to show mercy, and then immediately broken it with a level of violence that looked as calculated as it was brutal. Slaughtering an infernal I knew would change into an abomination when wounded had likely been the act that tipped the scales, and that was before he returned to the camp in a rage to begin packing our things and coincidentally discovered the maiming of the noble.


    Knowing how little my word was likely worth to him at that point, I held back, letting Maya do most of the talking. She knew how to handle him, and without ever raising her voice, she pointed out over and over, how he didnt have enough experience to understand how decisions were made in the heat of the moment in real combat. She brought up the visions as well. Eventually, he walked away to cool his head, and Maya looked at me apologetically. Sorry. Hes


    No. I get it. He has every right to be angry.


    It is not just at you, Cairn. Maya emphasized. He is displacing a lot of fear and confusion at your feet. Things are not supposed to be like this in the sanctum. It is never easy, but it is not this. Maya extended her arms around us.


    I know. I gave her a half-hearted smile and crossed the clearing towards the highest concentration of bodies. Bellarex followed me, hand on her sword, scanning the forest.


    You look better, I said. I bent down to get a better look at the abomination that had been hurling balls of electricity across the battlefield. Somehow, it looked worse in death than it had in life. Crisscrossed lines of angry red left fissures in its skin, and it looked as if it could come back to life at any moment. If I hadnt watched an infernal make the transformation with my own eyes, Im not confident that Id believe it.


    Bruised, but better, Bell murmured. Her high-energy demeanor was nowhere to be seen.


    I hesitated, before voicing the question. Did I scare you too?


    No, Bell said. I let the silence hang, waiting for her to expand on the sentiment. My father always said there were two kinds of fights. The kind you orchestrate, and the kind you end. You realized it before I did, but it was definitely the second.


    So, you think we did the right thing?


    No, Bell said. Again, I waited. The two that ran. You let them go.


    I did.


    Bell chewed her lip. I hadnt seen this side of her before, even in the loop. If there was a mistake, I think it was that.


    I glanced up at her, confused. Was this Erdos talking, or Bell? The soldier or the little girl. Still. She had a point. They would likely return to the cowled mageif he was still aliveand be added to whatever force he was undoubtedly gathering.


    You might be right, I admitted.


    It took nearly an hour before we were prepared to leave. Maya healed a handful of the infernals that were critically injured, ensuring they kept their lives but retained enough injuries that they would not be fit to turn back around and chase us any time soon. They stared at us in a mix of apathy, anger, and shock as they limped away. I saw Bell shake her head out of the corner of my eye.


    We headed out into the forest, enemies behind, and the unknown ahead. A feeling prickled at the back of my neck and I murmured to the others, scanning the forest. Someone was out there watching. Whoever they were, I had an inescapable feeling they had seen everything.


    AN: Sorry for the gap. Been dealing with some stuff. Planning to get the Patreon 10-12 chapters ahead (Versus 8) so you guys should see some extra content coming sometime in the next week. First Patreon only chap (Sera) is also coming soon.

 Chapter 95: Sanctum XX

    Chapter 95: Sanctum XX


    But things had changed. The abominations gave a clear, horrifying picture of what the man could do, and a worse case scenario that was impossible to shake. And that was just accounting for outside factors. There was no denying that internal dynamics had shifted, created friction where little had existed. Jorra was no longer explicitly angry, but the end result was arguably worse. I could feel his eyes on me, questioning both my motives and by extension, his own in accompanying me. He stuck next to Maya like they were attached at the hip. I wondered more than once if he would still be here if Maya had remained at the heart. Bellarex had picked up on the tension and almost seemed annoyed with Jorra. It boiled down to a fundamental difference in philosophy and the fact that she had been on the outskirts for most of the battle.


    Bell hadnt seen the moment the battle had shiftedhow it appeared that I had snapped after felling the captain, revealing something frightening that lurked beneath the surface, something Jorra had not seen the way Maya had.


    So, watching him venture out ahead of the group and scout, I knew how isolated he must have felt, harboring fears and concerns that no one else seemed to share. I just wasnt sure how to handle it, or even approach the problem, when my word was effectively shown to be worthless. He met my eye briefly as he trotted back towards the group, a slain gray creature that resembled an oversized rat swaying limply in his grip.


    See anything, Jorra? I asked.


    No. The answer came back short and clipped.


    Maya glanced at me before speaking. Nothing we can use?


    Nothing, Jorra repeated, annoyed. No rivers, no landmarks. Nothing but trees and moss.


    It would help if we could see farther than a few hundred feet. Bell noted, looking out through thick wood. She had climbed a particularly tall tree earlier in an attempt to see over the canopy. Once up, Bell had described a shimmering visual effect like a rolling heatwave that limited visibility, but the real surprise was that she spotted a red infernal on a distant section of canopy doing the same thing she was. She waved and the infernal waved back. At the same time. With the same arm. Then she spotted another, and another, all arranged at several points in a circle around her, all that moved when she moved. Some sort of spatial distortion.


    Well, you bagged dinner at least. I pointed to the creature that hung from his hands. It had sharp and pointed teeth that gave the impression it wasnt a herbivore. Anything we can do to stretch our rations will help.


    Maybe. Jorra shrugged off the compliment. Assuming its even edible.


    I toyed with the idea of sending Vogrin out. It was tempting, but after the previous series of events I was loath to put even a fraction of my mana in reserve, let alone close to half. It had been far too close, and I doubted the cowled magician would double down and attack us again so close to such a clear failure. For now, it was enough to know we were headed in the right direction.


    There was a twinkling sound, almost like the wind-chimes. I turned immediately, looking for the source. Did you hear that? I murmured to Maya.


    She followed my gaze into the forest. No. Again? Are you certain?


    Almost certain. I mused. Id been around Maya long enough to know that she was an attentive person. The last few times Id heard the noise Id been the only one to notice. It had been distant, far enough away that I could understand the others missing it, and wasnt entirely sure whether my mind was playing tricks. This time it was clear, and Maya had still not heard it. Something magical, perhaps? Something only I could hear?Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    There was a flash of movement as a small figure retreated further into the forest, though the figure looked wrong in some way. Something about the light. It was almost translucent. It reminded me of the girl outside the enclave gates and the cryptic conversation Id dwelled on for some time, and eventually decided was possibly a simple hallucination under stress.


    It also put me in the mind of that first day in the Everwood, when Thoth had used an illusion to lure me away from the caravan into Barions clutches. That in mind, I was cautious. But something about this felt different.


    Lets pause here, for a moment. Jorra, did you scout in that direction at all? I pointed out towards the direction Id seen the small figure.


    Not really. Jorra said. He hesitated, like he might ask more and decided not to.


    The reaction was immediate. There was a cacophony of whispering and the flitting of a thousand shadows. I looked up slowly. The vibrant butterflies had stopped fighting over the flowers. They formed a singular swarm, all facing towards me. Their wings were silent, beating hypnotically as they thrummed with volatile energy.


    Slowly, I lifted my boot off the crumpled flower. Red nectar leaked from its stem.


    The whispers intensified, and within the whispers I could hear a thousand muted voices. A raw blanket of pain pierced my mind.


    Wasnt the only trophy he brought home


    What did you offfffer them?


    Just like his father


    The poor thing is freezing


    Guess who came looking for you


    Some hero you turned out to be


    And you will wisssh that you had died


    I clapped my hands to my ears, eyes wide. It did nothing. I could still hear them clearly, their voices bouncing in my head. My vision started to fray around the edges and gray. My mana was plummeting. I wanted to turn and run. To flee. But somehow I knew, the second I turned my back, they would be on me. So, I stood, even as the voices battered me down.


    Hey! The voice startled me so badly I physically jumped. I turned to find a figure clad in heavy robes, a mesh net covering his face. In his left hand he was holding a bag, and his right hand wreathed in violet flame. He ignored me and faced the swarm. Come on you b-b-bastards. He waved the demon-fire on his hand as a man might wave a flag before a bull, pulling the swarms focus from me to him as he moved away.


    The whispers crescendoed to an angry buzz and the swarm dove towards him. The fire on his hand extinguished. He thrust the bag forward, aimed its mouth towards the incoming swarm, then opened it.


    My ears popped and the surrounding air swirled. The robed man staggered backwards as the swarm was sucked in, thousands of butterflies gone instantly, a few hundred more actively fighting the pull, wings tearing in the swill trying desperately to fly away.


    The blanket over my mind faded. I ran over and braced him from behind, helping him keep his balance as the final few were pulled into the bag. He pulled the drawstring tight and the wind ceased immediately. He tied the bag in a complicated knot, then pulled the hood off his head.


    Nauseous and empty as I felt, I couldnt help but smile.


    Bacchus?


    Bacchus pushed his spectacles up his nose and offered me a tired smile. When I swore to the lord below Id repay you, I didnt think it would be quite this soon.

 Chapter 96: Sanctum XXI

    Chapter 96: Sanctum XXI


    Bacchus looked different. It was hard to tell from if lines around his eyes were from growth general exhaustion. Id seen him once after bringing him back to the enclave, then hed entered the sanctum ahead of me. He carried himself differently now. When Id approached him at the bookshopbefore he knew who I washe had a hunched, aloof manner about him. Now his shoulders were squared, his manner cautious but more confident as a whole.


    What were those things? I asked.


    Soul sprites. They feast on the essence of the anima blossoms. He pointed to the crumpled flower Id stepped on. Carnivorous flora that collect lesser soul-fragments from smaller sanctum residents that venture too close. Bacchus frowned. Normally the sprites are docile.


    They didnt seem docile.


    Yes, well. You did step on their food.


    I shrugged. I take it you were harvesting them? You were a bit too prepared for what happened.


    I was. Once theyve fed on the flowers the sprites yield a potent potion that is key for soul restoration and extending life within the sanctum itself. Not exactly the sort of thing I was expecting to do down here, but hardly the first time reality diverged from stories.


    Let me guess. You met a master you wanted to learn from, and were given arbitrary chores to complete and prove yourself.


    Bacchus laughed. I see youre familiar with the premise. But really, I shouldnt complain. Master Veldani does important work, keeping the other masters alive, and shes old enough that her mobility is limited. More importantly He raised an eyebrow. You certainly arrived with fanfare.


    I suppressed a groan. Going to try to kill me too?


    No. Bacchus smiled. I still have plenty of remaining tenure. And even if I had the stones to try it, my mother had a strange level of faith in you. Thats rare, for her. We do not always agree, but it stands to reason if you managed to earn her confidence, you are worthy of mine. Not to mention, I owe you.


    I was just the messenger.


    Bacchus stopped. No, I dont think you were.


    The hair on my arm stood up. I turned back to face him. What do you mean?


    Call it a feeling, Bacchuss voice was as distant as his eyes.


    I dropped Ralakoss name at the gate, and they let me right in. But no one looked at me twice. Gossip hadnt circulated about me, about my magic. I always figured as soon as it did it would spread like wildfire. My mother had no idea I was coming. And when I met with Ralakos and asked what his plans were for me, he didnt have anything definitive. Like he hadnt really had time to think about it.


    He watched me for a reaction. I felt a growing sense of concern.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    We had only found out about you recently.


    See, I dont think there was a we. I think you found out about me. You rode out to see me, to see what I was likebeing the son of a criminal and all. He took a step closer until he was a foot from my face.


    I had my reasons for playing it close, I admitted.


    Well, like I said. Thanks. Im glad you made the decision you did. The intensity vanished and he stepped away, rubbing his neck sheepishly. You basically doubled our chances of being able to open the dimension gate, and Im glad the pressure isnt all on me.


    Same, I said, surprised to find that it was true. And maybe once the barrier at the entrance is down well be able to train together. Assuming we can find a suitable master.


    Bacchus smiled. Oh? Looks like you owe me after all.


    My mouth dropped open. Master Veldani?


    Shes magnificent. Old. Ancient even. But has full mastery of the fourth stage. Bacchus said.


    Wait, fourth stage? I found myself excited about the prospect. The only ones I know of are Spark and Control. I have no clue what the third is, let alone the fourth.


    His shoulders drooped. Yeah. Neither do I. Shes only demonstrated the third stage, and I still dont understand it.


    I found myself excited and disappointed in equal measure. Part of me was relieved that at least there was a Dantalion master alive and well enough to teach. But the disappointment was thatGiven what had happened to Saladius, we really couldnt afford to linger here.


    Hes a flowery one, isnt he? Veldani said to Bacchus, who shrugged. Says almost less with more than you.


    Again, I felt my cheeks growing red. Was every master of the sanctum this irreverent when showed the proper respect?


    Relax, child, I meant no harm. Veldani sighed. The sanctum has been growing more inhospitable by the day, and were overbooked and understaffed. We lost a few while Bacchus was gathering ingredients.


    What exactly is this place? Maya asked. Shed taken her place at my side, and her tail shifted from side to side.


    A place where the damned come to die. Veldani sighed. Mostly those of our ilk who have lived too longfully expended their souls. Some who have left the sanctum and returned. All sick. All living on borrowed time. Speaking of which


    Veldani held out a hand towards Bacchus. He handed her the bag. She only examined it for a moment before her eyes widened. This is too much!


    Isnt that a good thing? Bacchus asked.


    Theres a reason I gave you exact numbers, child. Theres only so much I can process. Pity. Veldani stared at the bag grimly. More than half of this will go to waste.


    Is it alchemy? Cairn can help. Hes good at alchemy. Bell looked between me and the master.


    I inwardly groaned. Id sensed the opportunity myself, but was trying to prevent this from going the way things had with Saladius.


    Youre an alchemist, too? Veldani raised an eyebrow towards me.


    I nodded. Middling, Master Veldani.


    How middling? Name the most complex potion youve brewed without oversight. The question was rapid fire, barely giving me time to think.


    Um. I believe that would be the Iron Lung Potion. Though even that took more than a few tries to get right.


    Middling, is it? Master Veldanis eyebrow rose higher. False modesty will get you no credit here, young prince. An alchemist capable of brewing Iron Lung will be more than suitable as an assistant for my purposes.


    Unsure what to say, I inclined my head towards her. That was not my intent. However, Im not certain if that is wise. We are being hunted. The last thing I wish to do is place innocents in the crossfire.


    Most of the innocents you see before you, there was a chill mockery in her voice, could snuff you out in a second. It would not be an exaggeration to say that most of them half awakened three elements, and mastered two. All that to say, I am not overly concerned about the capabilities of a magician foolish enough to try to breach this place.


    An entire ward tower filled with pinnacle magicians. The whole presentation of the tower was recontextualized in my mind. The tower and the surrounding spell wasnt designed to protect the residents from would-be invaders. It was designed this way to protect would-be invaders from the inhabitants themselves.


    Maya stepped up beside me, made a cursory bow, then spoke. There is something else to be considered. This rogue magician is capable of transforming living beings into monsters. She untied the damp sack at her waist and pulled the head of the abomination from it until its face barely showed, keeping the appendage concealed from anyone else who might be watching.


    Veldanis mouth dropped. Lord below. She seemed to remember herself, then shook her head. No. This only reinforces things, but complicates the timeline.


    You know what they are? How theyre made? I asked.


    I have an idea. It is not my area of expertise, nor my place to explain. Veldani clapped twice. A few heads around us turned. An older infernal with a slow lumbering gait and lines in his face so deep they cast shadows walked over towards us. Veldani continued speaking, distracting me from him. You will stay here for a night. Help me process the surplus. Once weve finished, Master Morthus will give you the answers you seek.


    Morthus?


    After searching for his whereabouts and finding nothing, Id almost resigned the idea of finding the infernal who had come to me in the isolation chamber so long ago and promised me answers about the Metamorphosis cult, the tattoo on Thoths wrist, and why she was apparently turning against them.


    But now he was here. Or so she said. There was no one resembling the man in the room. The old, confused infernal that had wandered over now towered over me. Then the pieces began to shift. Something about his posture, the way he smiled.


    I see you escaped your cell, Morthus said. It was undoubtedly him. His kind face and over-long spiral horns, everything was the same. But it was also unbelievably different. His jowls sagged. His eyes took me in sluggishly, sclera slightly off-white. And the lines on his face were more numerous than the stars.


    What happened But Veldani was already pulling me away towards the back room.


    Thats not how this deal works, my future master said. Work first. Talk later.


    My mouth firmed as I followed, lips drawing together. So many answers were right around the corner.

 Chapter 97: Sanctum XXII

    Chapter 97: Sanctum XXII


    But I could barely pay attention. The question of the metamorphosis cult and how they tied in with Thoth, as well as why she was now hunting and killing them despite bearing their mark, had haunted me since the beginning.


    And now Morthus was just down the hall.


    There was a dull clattering as a handful of dead Soul Sprites were dumped into my pestle.


    Youll need to be thorough. Were aiming for a fine powder consistency. Any particulates and the measurements will be thrown off. Veldani snapped her fingers in front of my face, rousing my attention. I need you to pay attention, Cairn. This first step is crucial.


    Of course, I said automatically.


    Veldani cocked her head. You are elsewhere.


    No. I can focus.


    If you say so. Start grinding. Ill watch you for now, make sure you get the texture right. Then we can move on.


    I fought back irritation. The mortar and pestle was the easiest step of herbalism, let alone alchemy. If she was going to micromanage this much on a basic level I could only imagine how painstaking the later, more complex steps would be.


    With all due respect, Master Veldani, I am experienced in the fundamentals.


    Her eyebrow quirked. Whose fundamentals, Master Cairn? Mine? Because Im certain I would have remembered a disciple as pink as you.


    Very well. Ill follow your lead. There was no changing her mind. The most I could hope for was proving myself competent and hoping she would lighten her grip. So, with only mild humiliation, I bore the constant interference as she made small adjustments to my technique. I almost opened my mouth again to comment when the elderly master corrected my posture, forcing me to sit up, but somehow managed to maintain my silence.


    Eventually, as Id hoped, her endless commentary slowed to a small trickle before stopping completely.


    You know, I tried to stop him. She said off-handedly to me, as if she was discussing the weather.


    Stop who?


    Morthus came to me for a preparatory dose, before he returned to the enclave. He was hoping it would mitigate the side effects of leaving. I told him it didnt work that way. That at most, it would prevent his death. But his life would be miserable whether he remained or returned, the only question would be length. A question still up in the air.


    I absorbed that, still trying to connect the image of the friendly old infernal that had come to me in the black cell with the decrepit ancient who looked days away from death. When I asked him how he left, he told me there were exceptions to every rule.


    Veldanis lip curled as she aerated clear-colored solution, fingers gripping the neck of a flask, so tightly I feared it might break. Sounds like him. That tottering old fool. Hes always thought himself above the rules, even the rules of nature. Some people elevate themselves, believe theyre the exception, so strongly they manage to fool everyone around them. She set the beaker down with a loud clank. But in the end, its like fighting gravity. No matter how high you soar, eventually, you always fall.


    It doesnt sound like you have a high opinion of him. I poured the powder through a screen of mesh.


    On the contrary. Veldani stopped working for a moment, staring at a wall, her eyes blank. I believe Morthus has done more for the enclave, for the world, then any of those fools ever have. Even if in the end, its all pointless and success can only be measured by minute distance from abject failure.


    I got the sense she was talking about something bigger. A larger goal that had not yet been revealed to me. So, I poked at her, hoping to glean more information. That sounds needlessly fatalistic.


    Does it? Veldani chuckled. Remember that sentiment, for after you talk to him. And youll understand why I think, all things considered, Im something of an optimist.


    There was a clear line in the statement that our discussion on the topic was over. So instead, I focused on the work. It was devilishly tricky. Before catalyzing magic was applied, the mixture needed to be kept at a strict temperature or it would solidify. But unlike the Iron Lung or Fast-Healing poultices, the soul-sprites were fragile, and keeping them in constant heat would break down the very ingredients we needed to extract.


    Thats where demon-flame came in. Flash heating applied through a clay stove. I watched Veldani do it a few times before I felt comfortable trying it myself. Thankfully, I was able to reproduce the effect repeatedly, doubling our progress. Veldani looked alarmed at first but eventually relaxed, grateful for the additional help.


    An errant wisp of transparent gas rose, scouring the inside of my nose. I felt suddenly lightheaded, a familiar tearing in my chest.


    How long have you had the flame? Veldani asked. Her voice pitched up a bit too casually.


    I blinked the pain away before answering. Thinking back was tricky. Time had changed so much in what it meant to me, my mind and my body aging at drastically different rates. A few years now.


    The elder snorted, then stared when I didnt laugh. How regularly have you been training?


    Every day. I brought the spark forth, forming into a simple violet ball and letting it rotate, passing the lazy orbit from finger to finger. Its become something of a nervous habit.


    Its interesting. This was some time ago, but most dantalion magicians fear the magic. Dantalion is different from the other elements because it is so innately dangerous. Theyre terrified of setting the world on fire when they sleep, refuse to use it in sparring. But you dont fear it. Not really.


    There was a time when I did. But looking at things rationally, it came to me when I needed it most. A weapon of my enemys, turned against her.


    Ah, yes. The black magician. Things have been chaos since that little announcement of hers.


    Do you fear it? I asked.


    Fear what?


    The flame.


    I loathe more than fear it. Veldani looked down at her open hand. A small animal made of violet flame peaked out from beneath her fingers, not unlike a squirrel peaking out from the trunk of a tree. Her forehead crinkled lightly as the small animal scurried down her arm and into the fold of her sleeve, peeking out again at her neck.


    The display unsettled me. Despite her suggestion that I was advanced for my situation, It had taken me this much time to be able to move the flame freely. What she was doing with the second stage was so vivid and real looking it made my training look more like a parlor trick.


    The others dont understand, she admitted, why I havent done what Morthus did. Gone back up to the surface myself. Sacrificed myself for the enclave.


    People without power often cast judgement on those that hold it.


    As well they should, Veldani shot me a wry look. Power, by its very nature, should be questioned. Must be questioned. Kowtowing to our betters and leaving them unchecked leads to only madness.


    I think my father wouldnt like you very much.


    Then time shifted backwards again. Through the enclave. I felt her grieve the lost of her parents alongside me. The madness I flirted with. The darkness inside. My torture. The deal I struck. At that, I felt her almost draw away. Then her grip on my mind renewed, anger and determination no longer just mine.


    I will destroy them for what they did.


    The relief washed over me like a wave. I hadnt realized how alone I felt, bearing the trauma, the memories, having no one to share them with. Talking about things like they were only possible futures, rather than traumas and violence I lived through, survived. But the relief turned into worry as the memories rushed through the crossroads to Kholis, and into the Everwood. Barion. Meeting Maya for the first time. Then, she asked the question I was dreading.


    Why are you so afraid of me?


    Im not afraid of you.


    I can feel it, Nilend. Youre terrified. Just as youre terrified now.


    Please stop.


    Time rushed backward towards Whitefall. I struggled against her then, trying to stop her from moving, from seeing. I knew Maya. She could be fierce and sometimes brutal with her enemies, but her loyalty ran so true and deep that I knew that seeing what shed done to my sister would destroy her. I called to my magic, trying to erect a shield, a barrier, anything.


    Stop fighting me, Im trying to save you.


    Dont look. Please dont look.


    I watched myself slam through the war rooms chamber doors, Alten at my side, only to come up against the arranged army of Demi-humans, waiting, smiling, laughing.


    Then, her hold released. My vision returned, dark gray. Maya staggered backward, her face twisted in confusion. Not horror or self-loathing, confusion. She hadnt seen. Veldani slid in between us, took Mayas hand, and sliced her palm. Maya yelped at the sudden pain, stepping back from Veldani.


    Dont be a priss, Veldani growled, dripping a single drop of blood into the prepared potion.


    What are you doing? Maya asked.


    Stabilizing him. Its an old augers trick. If you hadnt already marked him, Id likely have used my own, but beggars cant be choosers. She held the potion at eye-level and swirled it, then tilted my head back.


    I opened my mouth and swallowed, then immediately gagged. The potion tasted like bitter algae. I found myself unable to look away from Maya. What would she think of me? Shed seen it. The way Id treated her the first time. Like some dirty, less-than-human demi trash. Shed watched me pack up my things and abandon her. She saw the person I was before. Some part of me hoped the curse would take the memories from her.


    Maya slowly started to speak, still unsteady. She pressed a hand against the door. You lived it. All of it. Every vision. Every death. You lived through it.


    The green glow of diagnostic magic faded as Veldanis eyes glazed over in a manner Id seen too many times not to recognize.


    Yes.


    You wept for me when I died. It felt like your heart was collapsing. You almost lost your mind saving my familyand yes, sure, you were an ass when we first met, but so was I. And eventually, you came around.


    I didnt know you. I didnt understand anything.


    No, I do not care about that. Not really. Maya pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It was strange to me that you never held any prejudice at all. Every human Ive met has, in some form or another. In fact, I always wondered if you secretly did, and were just hiding it because it did not suit your purposes. You were too perfect. And you are even nowyou just grew into the person you are, rather than spontaneously manifesting that way. A single tear rolled down her cheek and her lip trembled. But I dont understand. Why wouldnt you want me to see what happened before? In your first life. What is so bad that you would push me out of your mind on threat of your health. I watched you trade your very soul to the asmodials, your soul, Cairn. And I can never repay you for that. Theres so much about it I cannot fathom right now. And yet, I cant face the reality that for some reason, whatever happened in that room is more horrible to you than your literal, mortal peril.


    Veldani hovered near me, her face still blank.


    I didnt know what to say. The words wouldnt come. The lies wouldnt come. I had been laid-bare, so much of my anguish shared and held. She hadnt pushed me away for the things that I had done, for my madness, for my love. Relief, mingled with dawning horror. I couldnt give her the answer she sought.


    Seeing it would only hurt you, I said.


    I was there, was I not? Her voice muffled.


    I closed my eyes.


    In the crowd. That heartless, drooling throng. I was there. And you remembered me. Panic was rising in her voice. Why did you remember me? What did I do?


    Nilend, I whispered.


    A scoffing, hard sound ejected from her chest. Do not call me that. No matter how long I have wished to hear it. Not like this.


    Maya, please


    I owe you much. Her speech was formal. But I need some time to think. Maya stepped away, but the distance between us felt far more than the small movement created.


    Veldani came back to the present and blinked several times. I swallowed. It felt like Id been run over by a wagon.


    Pulse is elevated, but your soul is stable. Thanks in no small part to your friend there. I think Veldani tapped my knee, curiously, I think I know what you are. But again, that is a conversation for Morthus.


    I was too numb to press her for answers. Instead, I struggled to my feet. Sorry I couldnt help more. Did you save your materials?


    The vast majority. Veldani waved away the concern. You helped me through the hard part.


    I took one last look at Maya. She was staring at the floor. I wanted to go to her, comfort her. But I knew the depth of what she was grappling with. The question that could not be answered. Because at the end of the day the whys and hows wouldnt matter to her. The answer would kill her in its sheer, brutal arithmetic. I sacrificed my soul to save her family.


    And she had slaughtered mine.


    I turned to Veldani and gave her a small smile. I think well need to go soon.


    Veldani glanced between us, seeming again to intuit that something had happened that she was not entirely aware of. The mind is a dubious place, little girl. It is rarely pleasant. Whatever you saw, or think you saw, remember that you saw everything. And that level of truth is so rare it almost does not exist. She focused on me. Ill have one of my guards take you to Morthus, if youre ready.


    I am.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter 98: Sanctum XXIII

    Chapter 98: Sanctum XXIII


    It was an old legend that came to mind, as the infernal guards walked me down the never-ending hall. A story my mother had told me a different version of on more than one occasion. As far as I knew, it had no bearing in reality. Just another human fable couched in faux history. Yet, it came to mind just the same.


    Iona was the goddess of twilight. The rare few graced with her presence described her as terribly beautiful. The sort of beauty that haunted ones waking hours and followed them into their dreams, that simmered in the back of their minds as they courted their wives and husbands, knowing and despondent that any mortal could never truly compare to her comely visage, the ruthless perfection of her body, and her stark and all-consuming image.


    But Iona was far from benevolent. As goddess of twilight, she was the matriarchal deity of assassins, thieves, and all manner of brigands that haunted the midnight hours. And like her supplicants, Iona was as self-serving as she was brave. And in this consummate mix of gluttony and mettle, Iona decided that she was no longer satisfied with the span between light and dark. Like so many of those that followed her, her greatest downfall was wanting more.


    So, Iona sought the goddess of night. Lune. A young but accomplished goddess who brokered peace between the gods of the dayduring the day, they could fight, and scheme, and wage wars, but during the night they would be still and rest. An uneasy ceasefire that had lasted only a few centuries, mere seconds in the eyes of eternity.


    Being the only goddess of the night, Lune was a dangerous combination of curious and lonely. Iona came to her shrouded. Lune had heard tale of her beauty. The majesty that hid behind the endless darkness of her shroud. And as Iona began to make advances, and give gifts, and even, towards the end, attend gentle ministrations, Lune felt her will begin to crumble.


    But Lune could not give Iona the night. Lune knew that the moment Iona held the night in her clutches, the daily ceasefire between gods would be rendered moot. So, she held her own for centuries, until her will was worn down to a razors edge.


    In an unfortunate combination of desperation and lust, Lune made Iona a deal: They would isolate themselves in Aethir for a hundred years. Iona would remove her shroud. And if, by the end of the century, Lune had not freed herself of Ionas influence, rebuffed her seduction, Lune would give her the night. Iona agreed. A century later, only Iona returned from Aethir.


    And that is the story of how the night was corrupted. Because, as my mother was fond of saying, you cant put the shroud back on. Once youve seen beyond the veil, life will never be the same.


    But like Lune, I must stay my course. No matter how horrible the truth, I have to know. I need to know. What all this is. Who Im fighting. What Im fighting for.


    Morthus looked like a man waiting for death to call. His eyes had sunk farther in his face from the last time I met him, and his simple white garment resembled a burial robe. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, face tilted downward, staring at the mark on his forearm beneath a rolled up sleeve. He looked up at me slowly, face tired, wrung of all emotion aside from exhaustion.


    We meet again, fair prince. I fear I have over-tapped myself in your absence. Again, that wry smile, one that had given me comfort during my incarceration, only now filled me with dread.


    You promised me answers, I said. My jaw clenched. About Barion. The metamorphosis cult.


    You have grown hard in our separation. Morthus raised an eyebrow, then, slowly cocked his head. And your soul is no longer your own. That is less than ideal.


    My options were limited.


    As they so often are. We tell ourselves that we will be better than those that come before us. And yet, we fall into the same traps that they did, for what we think are better reasons.


    Tell me about Barion. How both you and he are connected to Thoth. I pressed.


    How much of yourself did you lose, in your dealings with the demons? Morthus asked.


    Stop talking in circles. You already know the price.


    I know what you paid. But I am asking, what did it cost? Morthus tapped his head twice. You were so young when we met. So naive and idealistic, bearing such potential, such hope. Where did your hope go, young prince?


    Sliced off, bleeding on the floor of the twilight chambers amongst flesh and bitter tears.


    But I kept the thought to myself. Hope doesnt matter. Idealism doesnt matter. You do what you have to. No more, no less. The minimal amount of force required for the maximal effect. Any less is weakness. Any more is tyranny.


    Morthus smiled sadly. I see. Maybe, then, you will be able to understand.


    So youll tell me?


    Its better if I show you.


    Morthus grunted and pushed himself to his feet. Then without so much as a glow, he tore open a hole in reality. It formed a square void. He held out a hand towards me and I approached him slowly. His withered hand rested on my back. Together, we walked through the void.


    I only hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me, young prince.


    The darkness shifted. A battlefield in a distant forest with once noble trees that had burned to blackened trunks. The smell of smoke and blood and shit filled the air in a now familiar acrid assault on the senses that made my eyes water and throat tighten. It was Whitefall, but the scale of it was staggering. Everywhere I looked, there were bodies. Light elves and infernals, burned, skin sanded away from high-pressure water, stone sticking from chests and stomachs and heads, and of course, those that had fallen to the bloody wounds of the sword and spear and dagger. The word genocide came to mind first, but a genocide was by definition one-sided.This chapter is updated by


    This was a massacre on a scale Id never seen.


    As much as my people would like to blame yours for everything wrong in the world, the truth is, things have always been this way. The voice startled me. Morthus stepped up next to me, looking out, taking in the view. Humans didnt start the bonfire. They merely stoked the flame.


    When is this? I asked numbly.


    A century ago, maybe two. Does it matter? Morthus shrugged. Another fight over magic, or resources. Though the reasons have changed, it doesnt matter to me now, and it didnt matter to me then. My only thought was to my enemy. How to fight them. How to win.


    He must have read something on his face because he nodded.


    I see youre familiar with the mental space. The tunneling sight. The hatred. But this battlethis war in the Alpine Expanse, was the first to shake my resolve. Make me question my single-mindedness. Every companion in my company died. And the enemies fell before me, one, after another, after another, until you could no longer see the ground beneath the bodies.


    There was a sudden gasping wretch torn from the lungs of a man returning to life. A young violet infernal amongst the bodies sat up suddenly, as if possessed by a spirit. He was dressed in heavy plate. With a shaking hand, he reached out, and a massive double-bladed sword with a cerulean core stirred from beneath a group of corpses and shot into his hand, nearly knocking him over from the impact.


    He jabbed it into the ground, halfway to the hilt, and pushed, slowly rising to his feet.


    But he was not the only survivor. Two bloodied and beaten elves rose a dozen span away, looking almost as haggard, their shining silver plate now dull and orange.


    The infernal and the elves staggered towards each other like meandering, orbiting celestial bodies, their pathing oblique, battle-fatigued and injured to the point that they resembled the dead more than the living. The elves raised their weapons, but the infernal was faster, summoning the unimaginable strength required to raise that monster of a sword, bisecting the first elf from shoulder to hip.


    The second elf tackled him, bringing him to the ground, but the impact knocked her grip on her dagger loose, which bounced just out of reach. In a drunken but complex movement, the infernal pinned her arm to his chest and managed to twist, straddling her torso. He rained down blow after blow, her body and legs jerking with every impact, until the jerking ceased.


    Covered in blood, eyes feral, the infernal looked around for another target. I felt a sense of unease as his eyes passed over us, pausing for just a moment before they passed on. In that half-second I recognized him as Morthus.


    The infernals gaze fell on an elf sitting in the middle of the battlefield. The elfs hair was long and white, and he was unarmored, wearing a crimson robe that had once been brown. As the elder Morthus pushed me forward to stand within earshot, young Morthus staggered towards the elf, sword trailing carelessly behind him on the ground.


    I could hear his heavy breathing, the amount of effort and exertion that went into every plodding step. He sounded like a hog in heat, unrefined, uncaring, filled with heavy need that defied rational explanation.


    I found myself holding my breath as young Morthuss sword came up. The elf finally looked at Morthus, blue eyes piercing, face twisted in an expression I recognized all to well. True despair. He held out his arms wide in the universal symbol of embrace. He was ready.


    But the sword did not come down. In the pregnant seconds that passed between them, a vibrant green and black butterfly landed on the elfs upturned hand. He regarded it idly, then closed his hand, crushing it in his palms. It fell crumpled to the ground, body broken, wings crumpled.


    Young Morthuss face changed. Curiosity. Exhaustion. Why?


    Why do I refuse to fight you? The elfs voice was somber music, a dirge.


    Are you a coward?


    So the answer is to ask questions? I raised an eyebrow.


    Sometimes. Every so often it cant be helped. But if you can find a crack, and wedge your thoughts in like stubborn fingers, sometimes you can tear the shale away. Morthus shrugged. For now, let us move on.


    I followed him, and the scene shifted.


    We were in the interior of a cave, now following behind the two distant figures wreathed in shadow. A soft distant light illuminated a passage to the front. I identified them by voice alone. Young Morthus, and the elf.


    Where the hells are we going Saravan? Morthus asked. The irritation in his voice was underpinned by discomfort.


    Do you meant to tell me an infernal is frightened of the underground? Saravan asked.


    Im not afraid. Morthus said, a bit too heatedly. Weve been descending into the earth for days. How much longer?


    Leylines are notoriously inaccessible and there is a reason I am taking us to this particularly spot Saravan froze. His hand shot out, flat. Morthuss head whipped back and forth, looking for the threat. A small drake the size of a dog unfurled from the ceiling and rushed towards them, its shrieks echoed across the cave, bouncing, multiplying.


    Spells and elemental magic chased the shadows in an array of blue, greens, and orange. They hit it with enough combined magic to kill twenty men in the span of a minute. Still, as the creature finally collapsed smoldering to the ground, I got the feeling that they had only just escaped unscathed.


    What the fuck was that? Morthus asked, breathing hard.


    The reason were here.


    What is that? Morthus said again. It was tough. And it doesnt look like any drake Ive ever seen. Its face is split open. Twisted.


    A combination of mana desiccation and corruption, amongst other things. Come on. Keep up.


    As I followed behind them, a sick feeling filled my gut as I approached the Drake. I knew what I was about to see. Its face was split open, teeth unnaturally long, designed for maximum damage with little care for the hosts ability to eat. And it looked perilously similar to the abominations wed encountered earlier. Its slit yellow eye stared up at me, sending a chill down my back.


    As if under a compulsion, I followed them.


    We finally came to the source of the light. Within a massive chamber, a gigantic stream of flowing magma like an elevated river connected from one side of the chamber to the other. It was pure white in the center, with gold and darker orange swirling within it. Bits of detached liquid floated like little orbs alongside the larger stream. Just looking at it made me feel uneasy.


    Its supposed to be pure light Morthus stared up at the stream, as if trying to understand, comprehend what he was seeing.


    Yes, Saravan said. He stood perfectly still, watching. Morthuss reaction seemed important to him.


    Whats wrong with it? Morthus asked, finally. All his bluster from earlier had drained away.


    Nothing, according to the elders. And everyone else. Its a blip. A strange divergence at this particular leyline. Nothing notable. Nothing of substance.


    But you doubt that.


    We wouldnt have made the trip if I did not. Saravan countered. Then sighed. When he began to speak again, the words had the practice of a speech said a thousand times and never truly heard. It isnt happening just at this leyline. Its happening at all of them. Every single one.


    What does that mean? Morthus asked.


    Nothing. According to all the brilliant minds of my race.


    Saravan


    The core is dying, Saravan snapped. The well we draw from. The source of all magic, all nature, all life.


    A heavy silence fell over them, only the dull throbbing of the leyline remained. I saw Saravan bristle, waiting for Morthus to debunk, or argue, or disqualify. But Morthus looked horrified.


    And when it dies?


    The cataclysm. An end to life. Or a twisting of it. That part I do not yet understand.


    The drake.


    Yes.


    Morthuss had dried from the unblinking stare, and he blinked several times to clear them. What can we do?


    Youre just going to believe me? Just like that. Saravan scoffed.


    What reason do you have to lie?


    Saravan laughed, long and bitter. Theres nothing we can do, Morthus. Theres not enough time. There is only dijoahfnbikdwa


    A harsh buzzing overcame my ears, a squelching piercing whine. I hunched over, one hand to my head. I glanced over to the Elder Morthus, and saw him watching me, his mouth grim.


    He spoke slowly. The moment someone told me that a human awakened to the dantalion. I knew. Youre one of the chosen. And so is she.


    Why cant I understand them? I asked. Their voices were still garbled, distorted.


    It was all highly theoretical. Morthus said. We are talking about things that have not happened yet. We had no idea how to do it, only that we needed more time. I suspect, there are blinders in place.


    At the mention of blinders, I thought of how I couldnt communicate the true nature of my situation to anyone. My heart raced. I dont understand. Why not just go to the council. The people. My father. The dwarves and elves. Surely if they saw


    We tried. Morthus said. Saravan, for all his nihilism, was not wrong. Some things are too horrible for people to accept. The problem too great. Apathy kicks in. So, we needed a solution first. Even if it was theoretical. Only then would they listen. And thats how the Metamorphosis Initiative was born.


    When we first talked, you said they were disbanded. That you were operating independently. What caused the fracture? I couldnt imagine it. Couldnt stomach the immensity of what Id seen, the inevitability of what it implied.


    Ill show you, Morthus said.


    The scene shifted again. We found ourselves in a damp, dimly lit basement. Morthus and Saravan sat at the table as others arrived. A dark elf. A dwarf. My heart raced as Barion entered, with all his unnatural grace and swagger. And then it stopped completely as one final face entered the room.


    He looked different. His balding head gleamed in the candlelight, the last vestiges of hair forming a near perfect bare circle at the top of his skull. But his shrewd, knowing, deep-set dark eyes were the same. My blood boiled as I took in my fathers spymaster. The architect of Lillians demise. He leaned over to whisper something in Barions ear, then took his seat, looking over the rest of the table with a wide smile.


    I hope you havent been waiting on my account. Thaddeus said.

 Chapter 99: Sanctum XXIV

    Chapter 99: Sanctum XXIV


    But as I watched Thaddeus, sitting there smugly amongst the others, I realized that wasn''t true. I could never forgive him for what he did.


    It didn''t help that he was very hands-on with Barion, giving him little glances, knowing nods, even a friendly touch on the shoulder from time to time. They were clearly friends, closer than anyone at the table, including Morthus and Saravan.


    All I''m saying, is for so-called men of action, you''ve made very little progress over the last few months. Thaddeus drummed his fingers on the table.


    Saravan smiled, showing too many teeth. Temporal magic is not the sort of thing you rush, human. I''m certain that little gray-site to the south that is now a smoking crater can attest to that.


    I felt a tinge of satisfaction as Thaddeuss smile slipped.


    What are you doing? The dwarf to Saravans left asked, eying Saravan suspiciously. The humans are blowin themselves up, but at least there''s signs of life. It''s been quite some time since weve heard an actual progress report from you folk. Just posturing and catty remarks.


    I have only just returned to the fold. Thanks in no small part to your contributions, Godraec. The wheel of elven progress is large. It covers much distance but is difficult to steer. These things are circumspect. I must let my companions discover their sudden desire to study the complexities of time. Being direct will only result in unnecessary questions.


    Thaddeus held his hands to the side in a half-shrug. As fellow members of what many would consider to be a secret society, I think it is fair to assume we understand the meaning of subtlety. But there are leagues of difference between moving slowly and not moving at all.


    Morthus looked uneasily between the two men. While time is not on our side, Saravan is not the sort to drag his feet. When decisive action is needed, he will press forward


    I do not need you to defend me, Morthus. Saravan cut in with a snarl. For someone so critical of what others are doing, Thaddeus, you have said precious little about your task. Yours and your pets. He shot Barion a disapproving glare.


    Yes, well, as you so callously noted, the functional magic side of things has hit some rather significant setbacks. But we do have other things to bring to the table. Thaddeus drummed his fingers. Barion? Why dont you tell them.


    Yes, my lord. Barion stood, manner filled with barely withheld glee. Our biggest problems so far have been with time displacement itself. Functionally sending something through the temporal bubble has been next to impossible. The power involved is vast, massive, and even when the actual span of time is really quite small, the margin and likelihood of error is far too highextrapolate that to our original intent to use this method over greater spans of time.


    And the reason youre saying all this like its a positive?


    Because several weeks ago, there was a breakthrough. Barions voice raised in pitch and excitement, eerily reminiscent of when he would wax poetic during our discussions in the Everwood. We managed to send someone forwards.


    There was a long, dangerous silence.


    How. Morthuss question was flat.


    Barion started to speak when Thaddeus cut him off. Unbeknownst to Thaddeus, a certain researcher got a dangerous and unethical idea in his head. While the result was questionable, the logic was sound. Displacing a body is complicated. Any number of things can potentially break down with the jump. Even when youre talking about something as basic as botched teleportation. Organ failure, loss of senses, insanity. And the problem magnifies with distance or movement through space.


    So you started toying with souls instead? The one thing that is permanent and survives reincarnation? Saravan looked gobsmacked.


    Please, Saravan, the elves cannot possibly sit in judgement on this topic. How many of your ancients have mutilated either their souls or those of others? Thaddeus asked.


    Saravan grit his teeth. There is a reason we do not speak of the aberrations. Nothing good has ever come of them. And it has brought disaster and horror to the homes of any who follow their blighted footsteps.


    Be that as it may. Thaddeus said forcefully, trying to take back control of the conversation. We do not have the luxury of being squeamish. And while the researcher who went off path is no longer with us, his experiment did work. A soul was successfully moved forward in time by five minutes, and the subject is alive and well.


    The table creaked under Godraecs tightening grip. Youre being very unspecific about your subject, human. And I have a feeling I know as to why.


    A slow, dawning horror fell like a curtain across the rest of the table.


    Barion gave Thaddeus a look, and then spoke. Souls are eternal. But it is no secret that they are most open to modification when they are first transplanted into a new body.


    Children? Morthuss sputtered. Youre talking about experimentation on children?


    The researcher was taken off the project. Barion snapped.


    Save your plausible deniability, Godraec growled. We agreed there have to be lines. Soul magic, experimentation on children. Thats clearly crossing them. Not to mention, Im going to go out on a limb here and the child you exploited wasnt human.


    Oh, surprise, were going that route, Barion said.


    Stop trying to derail this and focus on the value. Thaddeus jumped in, a bit too quickly. I once again wondered when exactly this was happening. He seemed less confident than before, as if he hadnt fully grown into the man Id come to hate. We were never going to be able to send fully formed mages backwards. It creates too many problems. Reality destabilization, echoes, the fact that no one knows what happens if you interact with the duplicate of yourself. But if we can send back a soul, dozens, even hundreds of them. We can create an army of magicians more powerful than anything this world has ever seen. And they might just be enough to save it.


    Though Saravan and Morthus were still fuming, the partial explanation calmed Godraec. And the identities of these children?


    Thaddeus shrugged. Again, the motion was just a bit too casual. Anyone in our sphere of influence. Any race, anyone with promising blood and the capacity to awaken to an element.


    Saravan looked like hed been punched in the stomach. His voice quavered, You want to forcefully degrade their souls. Prevent them to returning to the afterlife. Put them through the grinder of what is to come over the ajdwahonidwa over and over again.


    Imagine it, Saravan, Barions voice trembled, and his mouth pulled back in a wide smile. Hundreds of arch-mages at our fingertips, many of whom, if my calculations are correct, will have the potential to awaken to every element.


    Theres never been a Premier. Saravan shook his head, glanced at Morthus. As much as my people try to feed that legend. And you think that you can make an army of them?


    Its the specific span of time thats vital. Thats why this development is different. There is no time of greater exponential growth and transformation of the soul than the first awakening. If they relieve that moment, over and over, I believe the awakenings will begin to cluster, occurring closer and closer together. If we can anchor that recursion to the dwaojdwang, then victory will be inevitable.


    What you are suggesting, is reprehensible! Saravans voice ripped through the room. Youre talking about taking people and breaking down their souls until theyre next to nothing. Stealing their future lives. Not just killing them. No. This is worse. He looked around him for agreement. And found none. The surrounding room had calmed. The faces of outrage shifting into expressions of consideration, and in some cases, careful excitement.


    Godraec scratched his head. Ill be honest. My people dont care as much as yours about the sanctity of the soul. But the magnitude of this isnt lost on me. Its not right. He looked straight at the outraged elf. But the state of their soulsanyoneswont matter if theres no world to come back to.


    It is better than anything weve come up with Saravan. Morthus said quietly.


    Then tell me. Morthus was almost begging. I could hear the pain in his voice. For the first time, I noticed that Saravan held a silver globe beneath his arm. Morthus saw what I saw. But he did not look surprised. Saravan what do you plan to do with that?


    All their talk of planning. Using isolated agents.


    I dont understand.


    Saravan looked at Morthus, his eyes pitying. They do not plan to isolate the recursion at all, my friend.


    Morthus froze mid-step. No. You cant be saying


    The humans realized it before any of us. No matter how large the army, it will not matter in the face of total annihilation. It will take everyone. So, the agents will serve as markers. Memory capsules. That is the purpose of their soul alterations. And everyone else will die, and die, and die, without ever knowing the existential horror they exist in. Their souls will wither to ash.


    Only if we fail. Its horrible, but


    I have yet to reach the good part. Saravan raised an eyebrow. The true purpose of the agents.


    What then? Morthus raised his hands to the sides and let them fall. He inched closer.


    Did you think theyd be heroes? Raise our banners. Fight against the darkness?


    That was the idea.


    Oh no Saravan laughed until his voice broke. It was never going to last forever. A thousand years at most, maybe two. There are limits to that sort of thing, even when you have access to the dhwioahdiw. The agents will speed up the process.


    I felt sick. I wanted to cover my ears.


    They will be tyrants and dictators. Murderers. Tormentors. Mass slaughterers wielding unimaginable power leaving only suffering and genocide in their wake. The worst sort of monsters. And they will scour and scourge the people, until their souls are ready.


    Morthuss hands curled into fists. He spoke through grit teeth. This is Thaddeuss plan?


    Yes.


    How long have you known?


    Too long.


    Just Damn it, Saravan! Why didnt you come to me?


    The same reason we have no intention of going to the council, or the Dwarven Thanes, or the Elven tribes. Because I knew this truth was too horrible for you, my friend. Saravan smiled. A small fissure opened at the side of his mouth.


    Morthus was quivering on his feet. Then, he released his fists into open hands, forcing himself to calm. I cannot condone what youve done. But I still do not understand. You accepted this.


    Because I thought it would work! Saravan shouted.


    And that has changed? Morthus asked.


    I am living proof. Saravan said, his voice ragged. I have lived entire lifetimes in such a short span, knowing what I know. And from that cursed knowledge I am no longer the person I was. His eyes were glistening with tears. Even if we drew our agents from amongst the greatest philosophers and perfect paragons of virtue, it would not matter. After a millennia bathing in the blood of innocents, not one shred of purity will remain. They will become the monsters they play to be. It is inevitable


    nothing is inevitable


    We cannot be saved. We are simply trading one cataclysm for another.


    The weight of it all crashed down on me. Id come into this late, either by providence or freak accident. The breadth and complexity of the plan was difficult enough to process. I could barely take it all in, as one point kept repeating in my mind, over and over. Thoth was only one of the recursers. Judging by her power, and the way she spoke, shed been doing this a very long time. It begged the question, then. Who were the others? There had been no sightings of rogue arch-mages, burning villages, either in this life or the previous. Did that mean she was the last of her kind?


    And if she was, what had happened to the others?


    Morthus stared down at the ground. I cant let you open that gate, Saravan. I never told you were it was because I knew youd want to look. It is the prime leyline. The corrupted monsters that lay within are likely beyond us both.


    We are already lost, Morthus. All that is left is for us to accept that. And die with dignity.


    I cant believe that. Morthuss entire body was shaking. A dark blue hue overtook his arms as he began to draw mana from within.


    You should have killed me when we first met, and saved us all the trouble.


    Wait Morthus voice cracked, and he took a moment to compose himself. Then he spoke, his voice warm and earnest. You are my friend, Saravan. Please. Hear me. You told me once that the key to waking ones self from the dark is to ask questions. And you were right. It worked. So just think for a moment. Do you really want to die without knowing for certain if there is another way?


    Saravan smiled. And for a moment, he regained that peaceful serenity he had embodied that first vision in the field. He inclined his head slightly towards Morthus in a small bow.


    Yes.


    The orb in Saravans arm began to glow. He looked calmed. Relieved, almost.


    There was a loud crack, and Morthus struck down his friend with a wave made of razored water. Saravan didnt bother shielding it. He collapsed, covered in a spiderweb of wounds, and the orb rolled from his hand.


    Morthus let out a pained roar, and the memory faded away, leaving us in the austere setting of the sick room.


    And now Elder Morthuss voice was so tired it sounded as if he might fade away at any give moment. You know the truth.

 Chapter 101: Sanctum XXVI

    Chapter 101: Sanctum XXVI


    The number of questions I had left for Morthus bordered on the hundreds. But I was tired of leaving blood in my wake. The longer I stayed, the bigger risk I ran of repeating prior events. The cowled magician was out there, searching. Hed likely been spying on us for quite some time. Possibly seen the direction wed gone.


    With enough information, whatever magic and wards protected the tower didnt matter. He would find us, and reenact the events that led to Saladiuss demise. I didnt share Veldanis confidence that the masters of the tower would be able to repel him. He wasnt the sort of enemy who struck head on. The cowled mage would find a way to bring everything down, regardless of their best efforts. At best, they would manage to fend him off, but even then, I had no doubt he would attempt to cripple the infrastructure, crippling Veldanis ability to tend to them, and stealing away what little time the waylaid masters had left.


    So, at dawn, the fog of the sanctum still rolling and heavy, I placed the two massive bags down containing the fruits of the last two nights labor down on the dew laden moss and summoned Vogrin.


    He emerged from the ground slowly, one arm at a time, then raised himself up to his full height and faced me. His bone-white face was leering, and I could almost feel the irritation radiating off him.


    Anything else for me after I function as your pack mule? The irritation in his nasal cadence was clear.


    I raised an eyebrow, surprised. This is something only you can do. And Ill need you to be creative, make sure everything is mapped out.


    Fine. He snapped his fingers. Two of the bone-and-muscle constructs appeared at his side.


    Im getting the sense that youre upset with me, I said. At this point, he could get in line. But I had no idea why.


    Magicians are a secretive lot by nature. Vogrin watched as the constructs lifted the bags. They were strong but small, and obstinately struggled with bags in a manner reminiscent of ants. But I am curious what was so important that warranted the censure of so many conversations. The last few days have been like reading books with ruined pages.


    Ah. That explained it. It made sense. The demons were not beyond the curse, so every conversation I had on the topic with Maya and Morthus would have triggered a wipe. And Vogrin was something of an expert that had been around for a long time. If Maya was capable of sensing something was wrong back in Kholis, it only made sense that Vogrin would catch on after being repeatedly exposed to it.


    It wasnt intentional, I shrugged.


    But you wont tell me what the conversations pertained to.


    For a moment, I considered lying. But again, Vogrin would likely see through that. No.


    The demon reached out to grab a distracted construct by the collar before it could wander off, yanking it back by the collar. I only hope youre not looking for a way to subvert your contract. Ozra has a way of finding out the truth, and the results of that discovery would not be pretty.


    As if I have the time. My fists clenched involuntarily.


    Vogrins head tilted to the side. Ive upset you.


    My voice was cold, chill. I am damned, Vogrin. By an arch-fiend. Of course, eventuallylikely towards the end of my lifeI will begin to look for ways to save my soul. To say anything else would just be a blatant lie. But trust me when I say, demon, that is the furthest thing from my thoughts.


    There was a silence between us then. Vogrin was securing the bags to the constructs with what looked like magical straps.


    Any news from the ones you sent to get word to Ozra?


    None yet.


    I spoke again, my voice soft. Did you hear what Morthus said? About the end of everything?


    Vogrin nodded. It is not new information. This world was never endless. It has always been finite, though exactly how finite has never been quantifiable. It aligns closely with our myths. There are words and legends for it that are older than your very race. Faltmar. Ragnark. All are apocalyptic. All involve the inevitable corruption of the leylines.


    I had been looking for a handhold, a small beacon of hope. Vogrin had not provided it.


    You seem ambivalent, given the circumstances.


    He shrugged. That is because I am. We are. The hells are not affected by what happens in the mortal realms. If this world ends, it means a massive influx of souls and distribution of power. Some of our brethren, such as the Decarabia, wish to catalyze the process and reap the rewards. Ozra, and by extension, the asmodials, would prefer to maintain the existing state of affairs until it is no longer sustainable. Simple mathematics. More time, more souls to reap.


    I leaned against a wall, crossing my arms. I dont know what to tell them?


    Who? Your companions? Vogrin shook his head. Theyre already buckling under the pressure, and you want to add more? The little infernals are not like you. Theyre barely more than children.


    Something in the way he said that caught my attention. So am I.


    Vogrin gave me an unpleasant grin. Of course, master. No wonder humans are so feared, if a mere human child can accomplish everything you have. Can kill without compunction or remorse. Take on the weight of hundreds of thousands of lives. Face death and impossible odds on a daily basis, and somehow remain standing.


    Your coyness is unappreciated.


    My apologies, He bowed his head in a token gesture of respect, then crooned his neck slightly to look at me. But I do so look forward to learning what you really are.


    A gust of wind ruffled through my hair. A single blink and he was hundreds of feet away gliding across the landscape behind the constructs, impossible speed looking almost casual. It did nothing to loosen the knot of uneasiness in my gut. Not just from what he said, but in regard to everything that was about to happen.


    Bacchus took a seat on the step beside me. Heading off soon?


    Looks like it.


    Veldani told me about your deal. Well be classmates, soon.


    Yeah, well, maybe you should have let me die. At least I wouldnt have to deal with this asshole. I indicated a hand to Jorra, who bristled as I turned to him. No one dragged you here. Why did you even come?


    Jorra took a step back. I wanted to help.


    Help? I raised an eyebrow. You just did what your parents told you. From the very beginning. Kilvius told you to help me train for the Sanctum. And now that hes not around to pull you in line, youve done nothing but complain. Your biggest contribution is laying coiled at your damn feet.


    Please stop. Bells voice wilted. Shed started to cry, caught up in the emotions flying around, unable to hold it in. Please. Were all just tired.


    It took everything I had not to reach out to her and comfort her. But I couldnt. Not now. Instead, I took her by the shoulders and tilted her chin up. I want you to go home, Bell. I kept my voice neutral.


    She looked up at me in shock, the tears welling in her eyes spilling over freely. Why?


    Because you arent ready. I said, hating myself. Youve slowed us down. The void sickness. Its nothing youve done on purpose, but those delays have cost us in other ways. I let the words hang. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking for the meaning. I saw the exact moment she thought of Saladius.


    There was a loud smack, and my head snapped to the side. My cheek stung. Mayas hand returned to her side. She was panting with emotion, knees locked. Do not put that on her. That was not her fault.


    Conveniently, it never seems to be anyones fault. I sneered, channeling my father. No one wants to take one shred of responsibility other than me.


    What are you doing, Cairn? Jorra asked.


    Bringing this to its logical fucking conclusion, Jorra, I said.


    No, I mean, what are you doing? Jorras anger had disappeared, replaced by hurt and confusion. Why are you self-destructing? Youre chasing after a magician infinitely stronger than you, while being chased by a magician who either killed a master, or escaped unscathed. And it''s like you want to do it alone.


    Im being chased by a coward who uses children to do his bidding, I roared. Jorra stepped back. Bell hid behind him. Someone who exploits the weak, has to fall back on strategy and tactics because he doesnt have a spark of innate talent or potential. Hes pathetic. The lowest of the low. Let him come for me. I doubt hell be able to catch up without all this deadweight slowing me down.


    A gust of wind picked up around us, kicking up a flurry of snow like a white curtain that divided us. For a moment, I saw them. Jorra stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. Bell was still hiding behind Jorra.


    Maya walked up to me, her tail snaked around her left arm, squeezing tightly and wrinkling the white-fabric of her sleeve. It reminded me of the first time Id met her in the Everwood. Full of caution and distrust.


    I hope you will not regret this, nilend.


    I ended it.


    Dont call me that.


    Maya froze. Then turned away and rubbed at her eye.


    One by one, I watched as my friends lowered themselves back down the cliff face. They didnt look back.


    ////


    Slowly, I began the long trek across the mountain top. Whip nipping at my face, my ears. But I wasnt cold. An anger, raw and real, built in my core, growing hotter and brighter. There was a slight buzzing as the modified stone ring sent me the notification to let me know I was being watched.


    I paced myself carefully, trying to time things, so I ended up in the right place. A stone with a gouge in it served as my marker. I leaned on it to rest, covering the gouge with my body.


    I felt him before I saw him. The same dark malevolence that covered Thoth and Ozra roiled over him.


    And you were doing so well. Snow gathered on the shoulders of his coat. For a moment, I thought I understood what she sees in you. Only to be proven wrong as you royally blow it in the end.


    There were no soldiers with him. No backup. Hed watched the exchange. Heard everything that was said. And decided he was going to teach me a lesson.


    So far, it had all gone according to plan.


    We discussed it before leaving the tower. But the cowled man wasn''t stupid. He''d been watching us, knew us. He saw our ambush. Would verify that my companions were indeed on their way down the mountain. So, the fight had to seem real. Had to carry a core of truth.


    It was necessary. But I hated it all the same.


    Before anything else, I reached in my pocket for the glass orb filled with Jorras water, giving it a single firm shake.


    Then, I turned to the cowled man. My face twisted into a dark smile and I began to laugh. I''m not sure what he saw there, but he took a step back, suddenly uncertain.


    He is stronger than you. Smarter. Better equipped and better trained. The only way to handle a magician who outclasses you by such an order of magnitude is to stick a needle in his eye: Attack his pride, and hope he makes a mistake.


    Morthus was right.


    You, know, it''s really hard for me to make friends. Forming those connections, it doesn''t come naturally to me. Youre going to regret making me hurt them. I reached up in the air and snapped my fingers.


    The explosion went off, deafening. Everything vibrated with the fracturing stone, and we both fell as I brought the mountain down.

 Chapter 102: Sanctum XXVII

    Chapter 102: Sanctum XXVII


    Frigid air rushed by my ears as I fell into the newly created chasm. I pinwheeled in the air, rotating in vain, trying to visually locate the cowled magician. There was a red glow as I pushed mana through the inscription on my left arm, summoning fingers growing long and pointed as I summoned the demonic gauntlet, dark metal materializing over the length of my arm, extending my fingers in razor sharp claws.


    The molten anger in my chest intensified with every passing second, and I held it at bay, trying to keep the conversation and resulting plan Id made with Morthus at the forefront of my mind.


    /////


    Once Vogrin returned, Morthus had left his sick bed, and Id assisted him as we moved to an unused wing of the tower. There were a few kossboards, as well as various tables for cards and bone-betting. I found myself wondering what exactly they gambled. Many of the men and women of the sanctum were hundreds of years old, and had already left the majority of their wealth to later generations. We had taken a seat around a circular, red, soft-lined table that was meant for hosting some sort of complex game involving dice.


    Absentmindedly, I lifted the dice in my hand and dropped it back down to the table. It always seemed to land on the same side, displaying a single ivory teardrop set against a crystalline indigo inlay. I wondered idly if the result was good or bad.


    This is mostly conjecture, but we can assume, based on the company he keeps, that your opponent is capable. Extrapolating that, and the level of tactics hes displayed, along with his more underhanded methods, we can safely assume that hell see any trap you lay for him coming. Even if you do successfully provoke him. Vogrin stared at the dice board, and moved two black betting markers around, which he was using to indicate the location of the mana charges.


    Which is why he cant see it. I said irritably. Youre confident the location you chose will work?


    The muscles in Vogrins implacable face tightened. Certain. There is a small chancedirectly correlated to his levels of paranoiathat he may scan the entire mountain and discover the chamber we located with the help of your colleague''s artifact. But if properly motivated, I doubt hell take the significant time required.


    I grunted an affirmative, and dropped the dice onto the table. One again.


    What bothers you, young prince? Morthus asked from across the table.


    Where to begin? I leaned forward, arms on the table, staring down. We have no indication what his abilities are, what magic he has access to, whether hell be able to immediately escape once we spring this trap.


    Doubtful. Vogrin shook his head. On the last point. I know youve seen some more fringe uses of teleportation due to our Vogrin glanced over to Morthus. Mutual benefactor. But the reality is much less interesting. If you have it inscribed, you need at least a minute uninterrupted.


    He likely wont have flight either. Morthus added. I tapped my fingers. That tracked with what Saladius had told me about flying. Too expensive, not worth the effort.


    Vogrin inclined his head in agreement. That leaves, what? Cohesion? Gravity alteration? The former can be countered easily enough, and the latter has the same issue as teleport when it comes to a longer cast time.


    So, hes not likely to escape. I confirmed. That only leaves the problems of alchemical poisons, exotic weapons, spells Ive never seen and have no clue how to defend against, and of course, the weaponized corruption.


    Morthus studied me from across the table, silent. But Vogrin chuckled.


    What? I snapped at him, clenching the dice in my hand.


    Nothing, master. Its just very rare to hear you like this. Vogrin turned away under my withering glare, unwilling to explain further.


    Whats he talking about? I asked Morthus.


    Morthuss lips quirked upward. Theres an unknown factor in every battle. One of the first things a solider learns to let go of is that its impossible to account for every variable. I believe what the demon finds amusing is that, despite all your experience, you sound like youve never been in real combat before.


    I was about to open my mouth to say that I had. Then I realized they were right. The things I was complaining about were the sorts of problems people in conflict had to deal with every day. Sure, there were times when Id had no idea what I was up against and still come out on top without looping. The scrap with Ephira, a half-dozen smaller conflicts in the Sanctum itself against lesser foes. But Id gone through all of that, with the complete and sometimes foolhardy confidence that if I died, I could simply do it again.


    That wasnt the case here. There was no guarantee that the checkpoint had moved, and in fact, I was almost certain it wouldnt. The Black Beast had intended to hammer a lesson into my head that the loops could not be abused for sentimentality. Following the ancient adage of things-that-can-go-wrong-usually-do, it would come as no surprise that if I failed to kill the cowled magician, Id start in the same exact place. Mayas life was on the line.


    ////


    I didnt.


    As the world spun, I finally located the falling mage. His cowl was fluttering in the air. He was weaving a spell from silvery mana mid-fall, threads flowing frantically into a pattern.


    Relentlessness is your greatest asset.


    I called the air, weaved a horizontal platform from nothing, pulled my legs up to my chest and kicked off with both feet, diving towards him. He noticed me just in time and lost concentration, backfire from the spell upending him and sending him spiraling in free-fall.


    I used little bursts of air from the palms of my hand to course correct, guiding me to him. When I hit, it was like impacting a wall. The man was lean, but what muscle was there was developed.


    I struck at him with my razored fingers and he grabbed my wrists, careful of the blades. Of course. If hed been watching me, hed know about the alchemy, the poison. His hood had fallen back, and his dark skin and golden eyes betrayed Dulen heritage.


    Fuckin He stopped suddenly when I broke his grip, driving a thumb from my unarmed hand into the nerve cluster between shoulder and clavicle, feeling it dig deep into the flesh. He shrieked in pain.


    I grabbed for my sword and tried to pull it free, finding it stuck. He sneered at me, managing to pin my hand to my sheathed sword and preventing me from drawing it.


    Seething, I powered the haste inscription on a single leg, used two simultaneous bursts of air to rotate backwards, and struck out at him as I flipped backwards. The magician caught my leg beneath his arm and uttered a heavy grunt.


    Were both going to die, you idiot


    I lashed out at him with my other boot. This time it connected with his chin, transfer of force sending him spinning away from me. I twisted towards the ground


    And barely caught myself on a cushion of air, an inch above the ground. To my right, I saw the magician lounging on what looked like a cloud of pure blackness, pushing himself to his feet.


    We were deep within the mountain. The whole problem with my usual method of controlling the battlefield was that my opponent was the sort most likely to see through it. Any environment that would lend itself to traps hed be wary of, and likely have more than a few methods and techniques to spot them. So, the solution was to transport him to my battlefield, where it wouldnt matter if he spotted the charges. Where it would already be too late.


    Sure enough, one of his light-gold eyes glowed red as he surveyed the chamber. It was cavernous, with a single fissure that parted the center, belching dark smoke. But his eyes locked on his feet.


    He swore.


    Then I snapped my fingers again.


    The aegis he cast around his ankles was obliterated as Vogrin triggered the charge, and the force of it rocked the chamber, bits of rock falling down around us. The cowled mage cried out in pain as he was thrown by the residual force. Still, he maintained the focus to stop himself short of the next charge, momentum dying as it exploded several feet away.


    It didnt matter. Now that I was focused, drawing in mana, I could see the glow of dozens of charges, crosshatched in placement, buried just beneath the surface.


    Hed gotten the message when Id attacked him during the fall. There would be no conversation, no banter, no witty repartee. I had no intention of letting him breathe. He reached out quickly to the side, dark mana shrouding his hand, then covering three of the mines closest to him.


    But I had already pulled my sword and called the flame. The inscriptions burned, and my legs ached, as I flew towards him.


    There wouldnt be a second chance. This ended here.

 Chapter 103: Sanctum XXVIII

    Chapter 103: Sanctum XXVIII


    You hate him because he resonates. A magician who lacks in sheer power, and resorts to tactics and manipulation of those weaker than him to achieve his goals. Children. Because he represents the logical conclusion of your abilities as they are now, taken as far as they can go. Based on what I know about you, about what Ive heard, he is you, albeit in a twisted and dark mirror.


    And you dont like yourself very much, do you, young prince?


    Thats fine. Its better than the opposite, really. This is the rare situation where self-hatred is useful. But you have to use it properly. Harness it. Reverse engineer your approach, your strengths, your weaknesses. This is your chance to punish those weaknesses mercilessly. Take nothing for granted. Expect everything.


    And maybe, just maybe, after youve won, you can begin to heal.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    I leapt at cowl. He darted away, dodging the strike from my sword by a hairs breadth. There was fear in his eyes as he staggered, standing directly over one of the mines covered in a cloud of dark magic.


    I snapped my fingers.


    There was no explosion. Before I could think about that, absorb the reality that he could somehow interfere with the blasts, he was already reaching into his coat and pulling out a black glass bottle. Immediately I called to the air, ready to dodge. With a cruel smile, he threw it down at my feet. I caught it just in time with a cushion of air.


    But it was a mistake. Hed been watching me. Knew how Id fight. That Id likely be just as wary of anything that came in a bottle as he was. The bottle crumbled, separated liquid fusing until a bright light overtook everything in a screaming keel. I managed to get my arm in front of my face by the time I realized, but it was almost too late. My vision was awash with a mess of melting purple and green afterimages.


    So, thats what that feels like.


    Vogrins voice whispered in my ear. Dagger. Behind and to the left, melee range in three seconds.


    I waited two breaths, then swiped out with my gauntlet first, connecting with nothing, following up with a wide horizontal swing from my sword. There was a sound of something hitting the ground and scampering away.


    Nearly thirty seconds had passed and I could still barely see. I turned slowly as Vogrin gave me instructions.


    Okay. Eyes in the back of your head. Mana sense or something similar. Good to know. His tone still carried the same swagger, but was underlined by a hint of caution that hadnt been there before. Gods. The balls on you, kid. Cowl said, even though judging from his face, he wasnt that much older than me. Do you know how many people Ive killed? Countless Magicians. A few arch-mages. And your big plan is to stick us together and see who comes out on top?


    Down.


    I dropped, and a burst of air passed over head, smelling vaguely of rot and death.


    Seventeen. Vogrin said, his voice terse. Wed talked about the possibility of being blinded. It was a common trick in my repertoire, so wed placed the lines across a grid Id memorized. Without looking or raising my hand to snap, another misdirection, I blew up the mine in the seventeenth quadrant. There was a muffled exclamation that cut off midway.


    I fed the inscriptions on my legs and sprinted blindly in the direction of the explosion, sword raised over head. Some of my vision was returning, and I slashed downward at the vaguely human shape crumpled on the ground. A wide burst of darkness in the form of a modified aegis served to trip me and fling me ahead, carrying my momentum overhead where I landed hard on my back, dazed.


    Upside down, I looked up in time to see Cowl pull a small black disk from his satchel. He threw it out, and it split into five smaller disks. My eyes widened. The distribution was wide, three long and two short, specifically engineered to cover as much ground as possible with me in the center.


    Even if I got up now and started running, I wouldnt be able to escape the disks themselves. So instead of moving to the side, I flung myself up with an expensive burst of air magic, and once airborne, using the more economical air steps that Saladius had taught me. This bought me plenty of altitude quickly, but it was barely enough.


    Several of the disks jumped in the air and began to levitate, orange lines forming between them until they formed a cube-like barrier that would have contained me had I been any slower on my feet. I watched in horror as the barrier shrank to the size of a pinprick, in on itself, the intent of the trap clearly to crush whatever was caught inside.


    What a trap to simply have at your disposal. That could have been it.


    I wheezed, trying to catch my breath, looking back and forth like a caged animal, ensuring I wasnt surrounded by anything that could explode. My left side had been torn open, several ribs broken and exposed, screaming every time I moved.


    Slowly, intentionally, I lowered myself into that frigid madness that descended on me every time a loop went on too long. It calmed my mind, my nerves. He had me, and clearly wanted to talk. So, Id let him.


    You know, Ive thought about it. The reason someone like you would follow someone like her. She has everything you lack. Raw power, talent. In fact, morally bankrupt ruthlessness is really the only thing you share.


    Pure conjecture, Cowl snapped, but there was something new in his voice. I was touching a nerve. A bolt of darkness flew at me. I scrambled to the side, throwing two more smoke bombs, filling the chamber. Carefully, I navigated the ground where the charges had already gone off.


    Maybe, but that doesnt matter if Im right. I spoke through the air, my voice transported ahead of me. Several charges went off and I ducked my head instinctively. This was good. If he kept it up, I could narrow down where he was.


    I thought back to the night of the coronation. How broken and twisted cowl had seemed, unable to do anything but laugh. My guess? I said, whispering from another direction. More charges went off. You resent her. She was handed everything, while you had to work your entire life for even a fraction of the power. And youre already planning your betrayal.


    No response. Maybe I was completely off-target, but I kept going. Had to figure out where he was, try to get the drop on him.


    Thing is, anything you might be planning, anything you might intend to do? Thoth already knows. Everything is a game to her. I bet shes even dropped hints, made little implications that have you sweating at night, wondering.


    A mana charge went off to my left. Not close enough to do damage, but close enough to cause other problems. The smoke was picked up in the gale of wind, leaving me exposed.


    Cowl stared at me, openly unsettled. How? He asked, his mouth set, lips narrowed.


    Because I know what you are.


    The tension grew taut as we faced off. We were both bleeding, my wounds more serious than his.


    This is pointless, Cowl shifted, and a spatter of blood hit the floor. Youve thrown those dear to you away. And now you will die alone.


    Now. Vogrin snapped. Every charge went off at once, sending a swirl of smoke and debris. Cowl was thrown to the side and landed hard.


    The mana charges were on a timer. It was a contingency wed set up in case he somehow managed to neutralize everything. I felt sick, my brain numb from the endless explosions, hearing half gone.


    I staggered towards him.


    And watched in horror as he began to drink potion after potion. His body began to glow red. The corruption, but different from whatever hed used on the infernals.


    A bit of white caught my eye, drifting in front of my face. At first, I thought it was an insect. But it was a bird made of paper, its tail on fire with a single pinprick of demon-fire.


    I looked up the expansive walls to the cavernous entrance above. Jorra and Bell were bracing Maya as she emptied the entire bag wed prepared.


    But as the paper birds took flight in a slow downward spiral, each of them dancing in the rising heat of the explosion, each of them carrying that tiny spark of demon-fire, I felt my heart soar.


    Never doubted you for a second.

 Interlude: Sera

    Interlude: Sera


    Sera had always reveled in the way they looked at her. She would not conform, change to be what they wanted. Instead, she was satisfied to be what they always thought she was. A wild animal. A beast that wielded sword and magic rather than diplomacy and a pen. And no one had ever contested that.


    But the time of peace had ended.New novel chapters are published on


    Sera rotated with a lithe grace, pulling her foot in for the pivotand promptly fell directly onto her face. Normally, she would have caught herself, but the gods damn corset restricted her movement to an unnatural degree. Her mistakeif it could be called her mistakewas not lifting the awkward and overly ornate ivory shoe, dragging the stuffy, impossibly hot fabric of the dress beneath her and toppling her as her father had toppled so many powers.


    Thwap. There was a sharp crack of a practice sword against her back that radiated up her spine. Sera bit her lip, refusing to cry out, and turned to glare at her uncle, who was intently studying a potted plant in the corner of the room. Luther, her former swords-master, didnt seem to like this any more than she did, but it wasnt his call: When Sera had shown resistance to the new direction of her curriculum, the king had brought in his own brother to motivate her.


    It wasnt the corporal punishment that rankled. That was nothing new. It was the strange, and definitively petty application of it. She planted her hand firmly against the marble, nearly slipping as her gloves frictionless silk failed to gain traction against the ground, and hoisted herself up. She overcompensated and almost fell backward as her traitorous shoes threatened to unseat her again, leaving her wobbling like a childs top.


    Her instructorif one could call her thatstared at her with open hostility. His hair was fashionably long, black ringlets that came down to his neck, framing a dozen piercings that littered his ears in a manner Sera considered to be distasteful. His name was Darvid, of a minor house she could not be bothered to remember.


    I understand that this is somewhat out of your purview, Princess. It is out of mine as well. Darvid held a hand up to cup the side of his face, as if to give himself comfort.


    I thought this was your area, Darvid, Sera snapped.


    Oh no. I am an augmenter of grace. Unlike yourself, princess, I cannot summon something from nothing.


    Sera bore the brunt of the insult, her entire body taut. Quietly, she fantasized about Darvid suddenly keeling over from consumption. Or being pitched off the nearby balcony. Or caught beneath the wheels of a particularly long wagon. She was so caught up in these tantalizing fantasies that she didnt even notice when he closed the gap between them.


    Darvids finger flicked bounced painfully off her forehead.


    You go too far.


    Without even thinking about it, there was a tingling surge as the lightning manifested itself within her, tiny motes of electricity gathering in her palms, begging to be unleashed.


    And therein lies the problem. Darvid looked down at her, unflinching. Look at you. Youd tear me to pieces as soon as look at me. You can put a savage into a dress, but you cannot put elegance into a savage.


    Sera burned. He didnt know the truth of her lineage, couldnt know, but the words inflamed her just the same. Something touched the top of her hand. Sera glanced down at where the practice sword rested against her wrist. Pit was shaking his head. Unlike the ignorant dance instructor, Luther would know from experience exactly how close she was to breaking. Sera took a deep breath and let the magic flow from her, frustration replacing anger.


    You go too far, Sera growled at the man who seemed determined to push her limits.


    Not far enough. Darvid said. The king has made it the importance of this matter clear, as curious as I was to why, that was ultimately irrelevant. Now. Start again, from the first step.


    Not for the first time, she considered striking the man down. He was like the rest of them. A simple strike to the temple or a flare of electricity through his eye, and it would all be over. But it would do no good. Whatever temporary satisfaction she gained from his demise would be quickly overshadowed by her fathers swift and merciless punishment. No. The dance instructor was not the true source of her situation. And so, Sera danced, awkwardly, and unsteadily, as Luther followed behind her closely.


    There was only one person to blame for this situation.


    The image of a smug face floated up in her mind, and Sera nearly tripped again with the sudden surge of anger. He was to blame. The worthless sack of flesh she called brother. Everything imperfection, every problem in her life could be traced back to him.


    She remembered, vaguely, the scant few years in which Cairn had not existed. They were blurry memories that were only decipherable due to her tainted heritageand even then, she remembered nothing of her life before the castle. What she did remember was enough. Her mother, holding her. Vivid indigo eyes that stared down through a curtain of golden hair. The tickle of whispered love and appreciation in her ear.


    Her fathers visits were rare. But she remembered how they felt. He would lift her from her bed and onto the ground. Slowly, he held her, so her feet barely touched the ground, and paced her through the steps of what she would later recognize as a simple kata in one of the lesser sword forms. Sera hadnt understood the complexity of what she was being taught, of course, only seeing his satisfaction when she followed his instructions. She remembered, with a surge of saccharine bitterness, the one time shed seen him smile. It was a month after she had taken her first stepsand in secret, in front of the mirror, she had been practicing.


    When the king visited, and lifted her from her crib, he did not have to prompt her. She performed every step of the kata without his support. Normally, he would correct her. Point out small mistakes, misplacements of limbs, where to place her balance. Instead, he just smiled, stroked her head, and uttered the words she would always remember, despite not knowing what they meant.


    You will make for a wonderful queen.


    Her reward for the gift was a tiny wooden sword. The lessons continued. More complex forms. The visits from her father became more sparse as he embarked on a campaign against the lingering sparks of rebellion throughout the kingdom, but he secured teachers for her in his absence.


    Then, two years after her birth, Cairn was born. At first, she was delighted. A brother. In the stories her mother read to her, a sibling was someone to share in your struggles, to support you when your heart was heavy, and fight the monsters of the dark alongside you. She would have to help him, of course. Their father was difficult to please. But his happiness was made all the more worthwhile by its rarity.


    It took months to realize the truth of things. A dozen visits, watching in confusion, as her fathers footsteps tread down the hall, passing over her for the nursery instead. It dawned slowly, in pieces. Denial came first. Of course, he was transfixed with Cairn. How much attention had she received, while her brother had not yet drawn breath. Eventually, the scales would level and he would return to her, and she could show him all the things shed learned.


    It took far too long to realize that Cairn was her replacement, rather than her companion.


    Sera could have gotten over it, if hed shown any appreciation for the attention. Any appreciation at all. But he hadnt. If anything, hed seemed bothered by it. And for that, she could never forgive him.


    She still remembered the first day she hurt him. Theyd been arguing over something, some toy of hissomething Sera hadnt cared for other than the fact that it was his. The voice of her mother, telling her to be kind, to share.


    But why? Shed wondered. Hes so weak. So much less than me, despite being given so much. Why give him anything?


    And with that thought, Sera had reached out and shoved him. It had been easy. He had none of her surefootedness and could not catch himself. His heel caught the carpet and his head banged against the floor, and he began to cry. Big, attention-grabbing wails that echoed. She had only moments to revel in the minor victory before her mother grabbed Cairn up into her arms and held him against her neck, glaring daggers at Sera.


    What is wrong with you?


    Her mother said other things after that. Her words and voice softened, and as was her way, she attempted to turn the incident into a lesson. But Sera would never forget those five words, and what they meant.


    What is wrong with you?


    The veil had been torn back. The queen was the same as the king, just better at hiding it. They cared only for their son. Their precious prince. And it was this realization that Sera held on to, as her mother tried to repair things between them. She was fastidiously polite, and pretended to listen as her mother read her stories, but the words did not reach her. It didnt matter if she listened. She was not enough, and would never be enough. Her idle fantasies of being the kind queen of the sort her mother read about died a slow death next to her dreams of being anything other than the spare.


    Her hostility towards Cairn escalated over the years. He was cleverer of tongue than she was, and that, combined with their parents favor, meant he always got the better of the exchange. But she could cause him pain in other ways. A well-timed shoved that no one saw. A cutting word after a dressing-down from the king. A shock awake to his back when he fell asleep during tutoring.


    Better yet, the only time her father seemed to notice her was for her antagonism. Hed caught her several times. Yet, instead of punishment, all she received was a somber nod. So, she continued her efforts. For whatever reason, it seemed to be the only way she could please him.


    This small comfort was torn away from her the day she went too far. They had been sparring in the courtyard. Sera had no idea that anyone was watching, and Cairn had made a comment about playing in the dirt. She hadnt meant to break his arm. Shed warned himvia painful slaps with the flat of her bladethat hed consistently left his left side undefended. Sera had merely refused to turn the blade, allowing the narrower edge to smack against the bone of his forearm.


    Demi.


    It was fine. Her cosmetics were the best rods could buy, built to order and imported from a discreet merchant in Panthania. She could fix it. Just a little contouring, a little blush in the right place, and she would be normal. No more than half a bell, if that. Easy fix.


    But she didnt get it quite right. The angle was off. It looked fine in the lighting in front of her mirror, but not quite right when she tilted her head. She hadnt blended properly. Her foundation was solid, she just needed a little more time to iron out the details.


    Sera gave up when the light started to fade. Her fist lashed out subconsciously, striking the mirror. It shattered into a hundred fractals, each showing her a small sliver of imperfection.


    Her body racked as she stepped back from the vanity. No. She wouldnt cry. Why would someone like her cry? She had so much going for her, so much to be proud of.


    Sera backed into the edge of her bed and sat down, her jaw tight, staring at the mess shed made on the floor.


    A knock rang out loudly, obliterating the silence of the room and startling her. The door? No, the window.


    Sera opened her window to find the second to last person she wanted to see. An elf clad entirely in black, homely, clung tightly to a rope attached to the windowsill with iron hook, swirling back and forth madly from the northern winds.


    The hells are you doing, elf? Sera hissed.


    Slipping, Tamara said.


    And you didnt plan for that?


    I didnt think it would take you so long to hear me!


    Sera shushed the elf, listening over her shoulder to see if any of her posted guards had heard the commotion. Tamara grinned up at her.


    The nerve. This particular elf was affiliated with her brother, so Sera had naturally ignored her, rejecting her advances. It had been confusing to guess what the elf even wanted. At first, shed taken the dogged pursuit as potentially scandalous. Which made it all the more disorienting when Sera looked into the new arrivals and found the elf had just married the ranger heading up Cairns newly formed regiment.


    Still, the thought of learning archery had made for an alluring carrot. Every teacher her father had hired was unimpressive. Eventually, Sera came to the conclusion that since the elf was so eager to teach her, she might as well come out to the barracks and see.


    Sera had to grudgingly admit that the elf was an expert in her craft. When she first approached, Tamara had been effortlessly putting arrow after arrow in an exceedingly far away target. Then the elf discovered Sera was watching, began to show off, and admittedly the display became even more impressive.


    They didnt have lessons exactly. Sera showed up, and Tamara would drop what she was doing and teach her. The lessons would last anywhere from a bell to half the day, depending on how lost Sera got in the minutia. Tamara seemed to have an excellent feel for how far exactly she could push Sera, and when it was time to slow things down and discuss theory.


    Theyd made excellent strides. But that was before.


    I cant work on archery anymore. Or swordsmanship, until Ive been brought up to speed. Sera said.


    Okay, but the part where Im slipping is still happening. Tamara shot back, a thin slice of panic in her voice.


    Climb down!


    Im going to fall! Tamaras hands slipped from the rope, and Sera reached out an arm to grab her, bracing a foot against the window frame and yanking her inside in a single smooth motion.


    Then Tamara started to chuckle. Seras face blushed bright red as she realized shed been played.


    You were never in any danger, Sera said.


    I was in danger of having to climb down. Tamara shrugged, springing back to her feet. She stretched her arms, then noticed the shattered mirror. Bad night? Tamara asked quietly.


    More like bad afternoon, leading to a worse evening. Sera said. And I would like, very much, for you to go.


    We all have them, Tamara continued on as if she hadnt heard the request. Just sort of have to take it day by day.


    Sera bristled. What do you mean by we.


    Elves, humans, half-elves, take your pick. The line was delivered so nonchalantly that Sera almost believed it.


    Why are you here, Tamara?


    Theres a security flaw. A gap in the guard pattern, from here to the range. If you time things right, you can slip through every hour. Hell of a hole that needs to be plugged.


    And thats what youve been doing this evening? Walking perimeters for sake of the kingdom?


    Tamara raised an eyebrow. Last few evenings, actually. Nothing to worry about. Ill have Cephur put it in the monthly report.


    Its the beginning of the month. Sera was starting to see the shape of things.


    True.


    Meaning it will be weeks before anything is done.


    Also true. Tamara indicated her thumb to the window. I kind of want a second opinion on the problem. Got time?


    Gods yes.


    Tamara pointed to her waist, and Sera looked down at the dress that still clung tightly to her. Dont take this the wrong way, but youre probably going to need to change.

 Chapter 104: Sanctum XXIX

    Chapter 104: Sanctum XXIX


    There was no grotesque shifting and splitting of limbs as there had been with the other abominations, nor did cowl hold any of the strange, disquieting animal quality of the infernals transformation. But his eyes grew a deep red, his body sagging and shuddering.


    He glanced up at the cascading paper birds lit with demon-fire, and seemed to come to the same conclusion as me. Time was the enemy.


    With reckless abandon, he threw himself towards me, and our careful dance devolved into an all-out brawl. Darkness shrouded his hands. He was fast, far faster than I was prepared forand the feint Id expected never came. Instead, he crashed into me faster than I could swing my sword, grabbing my shoulders in a wrestlers grip. The smell of ozone grew unbearable as mana surged into the spots.


    I shifted his weight and threw him, flinging him away from me, but not before the charging mana went off at my shoulder in a shrieking hiss. My sword clattered to the ground, hilt bouncing once before I scooped it back up. Everything in me was screaming to close distance, but hed been slippery enough before the transformation. Instead, I reached up and called the air, bringing the fiery parchment down like flaming birds of prey. He dodged the first few easily, but there were too many.


    One smacked into the back of his neck, setting his dark robe alight. It didnt catch nearly as quickly as it should havehe must have treated his robes with somethingand he put it out quickly with a patch of darkness.


    There was another sharp hiss as he reached into the air and summoned a perfectly shaped rod made from darkness, the end pointed.


    But it had cost him time he didnt have. Exploiting the speed inscriptions, I leapt over the small fissure and landed, carved a burning gash across his thigh.


    But Cowl didnt budge, or react to the impact. Instead, the tip of his spear popped up suddenly, aiming directly for my eye. There was nowhere to go, no way to get clear.


    A thin, pressurized line of water came from above, slicing across the back of Cowls neck, followed by a spatter of water mixed with dark blood covering the ground. I glanced up at Jorra and nodded. His face was set, grim. Even in the throes of battle, I realized what it meant. If Cowl hadnt protected himself from the corruption, it would have been a killing blow.


    Cowl whirled around, his attention split between the mouth of the cave-in, the circling paper birds, and me. And I knew at that moment that hed already lost. Panic was starting to creep in. Despite all his preparation and power, hed lost the mental war.


    As if sensing this, Cowl charged, spear held low and aimed at my guts. I let the rage go and settled into the mindset of cold calculation instead. Slowly, I wore him down, using my air magic to keep the birds aloft, bring one after another down when he was off-balance. He kept putting out the flame, but his reactions werent instant: the burns were increasing, hindering his mobility.


    I dodged beneath his strikes, letting my training and experience take over. Over and over, I baited him, allowing the jagged spear tip to pass inches from my face before moving, rotating. The fact that it was a pole arm actively hurt him. Id spent too much time sparring with Maya to not recognizing the body movement, to be able to predict everything. I kept waiting for him to shift gears, to pull another trap out or a poison.


    But no. Hed stopped fighting smart and was just trying to brute force his way through this, and Id spent too long fighting opponents bigger and stronger than me to fall to someone weaker who was attempting the same thing.


    Cowl finally changed tact, right before the end. He pulled his spear back and threw it at me. My body tensed as I prepared to leap out of the way, but then, I stopped.


    A dozen thoughts ran through my head in a split-second. It made no sense for him to throw his spear away. Even in the altered state, I didnt think he was stupid. What if hed spent the entire last half of the fight building up to this moment. Luring me into a rhythm before he struck, using one last piece of unexpected magic to finish me. It wasnt hard to get out of the way of a spear. He had to know that.


    So, I didnt move. Instead, I brought up my gauntleted left arm, palm facing up, and caught the spear. As soon as it impacted, it began to bubble, growing wider, rapidly increasing in mass and volume. I grunted as the gauntlet absorbed it faster than it could replicate, my entire left arm going numb before the shadow flared out in a dark wing out of the side of the gauntlet, sending me tumbling from the back-blast.


    My skin grew clammy at the close call. How strong was the magic if Ozras gauntlet had to vent it?


    Cowl was panting now, looking like a caged animal, angry but completely drained. He began the process of resummoning the spear.


    No.


    I reached out to the air, dragging it around in a circle. One by one, the fiery birds were caught in the draft, until they all rotated in a circular spiral. Then, calling upon the control that Saladius taught me, I pulled my fist down.


    Cowl staggered as he was struck by dozens of flaming projectiles, one after another. His little circles of darkness danced around his body, but it was like trying to put out an inferno with a watering can. The magician began to scream and staggered backward. I advanced, stoking the flame, the coldness taking me. Cowl spun madly, trying to fight, trying to extinguish himself, before tripping into the open whole.


    Still, even on fire, his ruined hand grasped the ledge as his body dangled from the fissures edge.


    He stared up at me, his eyes panicked.


    Slowly, I let the bloodlust go. I willed the flames to recede, dying down to dark violet embers. He struggled on the ledge as I bent down before him.


    I wont repeat myself. My voice sounded strangely calm. Tell me what Thoth is after and it will go better for you.


    Cowl sneered. Again, I was taken with how young he looked.


    Youre not a fool enough to spare me.


    Slowly, I reached down towards him, saw his spirits lift. There was no anger in me, no coldness, as I reached down past his arm, down to his satchel, removing it from his belt as he dangled.


    Waitwhat are you doing? Cowl said, grasping at me as I stood back up, his face wilting. What happened to your word?


    You killed a friend of mine. A lot of my friends. Repeatedly. As I spoke, his eyes glazed over. And if I let you go, whos to stop you from coming after me again to fulfill your missive? Thats something we have in common, I think. We do whatever is needed. And anything that gets in our way is just another obstacle to be overcome.


    You fucking hypocrite.


    Probably. I said. And then I planted my foot on his head and shoved. The scream that tore from his throat lingered long after he fell, and the flames flared to life, consuming his flesh, a fading violet beacon that disappeared into the waiting void. If the fall didnt kill him, the fire would. Either way, I wasnt taking any chances.


    I staggered back from the edge, spent, and took a moment to survey the battlefield. It was covered with small craters from the mana detonation, small flames still burning and smoke from the demon-fire obscuring my vision.


    Maya finished her descent down the rope. Her face was tinged with exhaustion and worry, and for a moment, I thought she might embrace me. Then she stopped. Bell raced past her and jumped on me. I grunted under the weight, laughing as she peppered me with questions on the particulars of the battle.


    I dont know how you managed it! Bell exclaimed.


    With some excellent help, I smiled.


    Jorra nodded. Still, it wasnt nothing. Even with the assist, you took on a full magician in a direct confrontation and won.


    Maya went to work tending my wounds, and a feeling of relief went through me as my ribs and side mended.


    Im sorry. I looked at them. The words were hard to say. It felt like even speaking them was lending legitimacy to the staged argument.


    There wasnt an immediate response. Instead, the conversation halted for a moment, and the resumed, as if I hadnt spoken at all.


    It worked. Bell shrugged.


    Its hard to argue with the results, Jorra agreed.


    Maya didnt speak, just continued to mend my wounds.


    I tossed Jorra the satchel to sort through, warning him to take care to discard anything alchemical that wasnt raw ingredients. Bell busied herself inspecting the nearby craters.


    Maya was so close I could feel the heat from her breath.


    I hurt you, I said.


    We discussed it beforehand. Decided not to talk about the particulars, so the reaction was real. Mayas indifference was almost believable.


    Doesnt change what I said.


    There was a long pause.


    No, it does not. Mayas voice was quiet.


    Are we going to be okay? I asked her.


    I think so. That does not stop me from wishing we could have talked about some of these things in a more productive manner.


    The silence was heavy between us. Finally, I asked the question that had lingered in the back of my mind for entirely too long.


    What does Nilend mean?

 Chapter 105: Sanctum XXX

    Chapter 105: Sanctum XXX


    Hi. Its been a while. Short version, I was nearly homeless for a bit, and managed to grab a place in a different state. Everything has settled now. Monarch has a publishing deal in the works, and Im committed to the story, so well be pushing hard to get back to a consistent output. Heres a quick recap on prior events to bring you up to speed:


    Last we left them, Cairn, Jorra, and Bell had entered the sanctuma place of infernal study and learning. Their goalto locate and learn from a master of demon-firewas quickly derailed when a long unseen enemy finally sprung her trap. Thoth trapped the entrance and publicly decried Cairn, offering to reopen the exit only after someone brought her his head. Cairn managed to locate Thoth during this display and, after a brief altercation that nearly cost him everything, drew a single drop of blood. Cairn gave this pinprick of essence was to Vogrin to track Thoth, having identified the scenario she created as a ruse to distract Cairn and the Infernals alike from whatever the villains goals were deep within the sanctum. Rejoined by Maya, the four set off to follow Thoth into the dark recesses of the Sanctum. Almost immediately, they were pursued by another figure: The Cowled mage from Cairns first life.


    After several close calls and narrow escapes, Cairn nearly lost Maya in a series of short resets brought about by the Black Beast. The Black Beast was displeased with Cairns use of suicide to attempt to revive his friend, claiming great power should not be squandered on such petty goals. Though Cairn was able to save Maya in the end, it was a close call, and the variables were nigh unrepeatable. Cairn had no doubts that if he died any time in the immediate future he would be pulled back into that unwinnable loop, which meant one critical thing: Whatever happened, he could not allow himself to die.


    Cairn met with Morthus, who revealed troubling information about the nature of the time-loop and Thoth. Morthus also revealed that the corrupted creatures were part of the event the Metamorphosis group were attempting to stop: corrupted leylines that led to an inevitable apocalypse. He was not able to say what Cairn was, only that he was not a part of the original plan and was likely something new. From what he said, Cairn was able to guess that whatever Thoth was after, it involved the prime leyline set deep in the sanctum. Morthus also warned Cairn that though Cairns soul was stabilized, he seemed to be suppressing a memory that took place during the final loop of the enclave. Overwhelmed with everything else, Cairn elected to put that aside for the the time being.


    Morthus then helped the group realize the reason the enemy was able to pursue them so doggedly was that they were likely being scried on using augury. With a display mixing theater and true conflict with his companions, Cairn was able to set a trap for the Cowled mage, though his words and actions wounded his relationship with those around him. After the battle, during an attempt to salvage the group, Cairn finally asked Maya what Nilend meant


    Maya looked surprised. You dont know?


    I shook my head. Ive heard Nethtari call you that. From context, it seems to mean something approaching family. In all my reading of the infernal texts, its never come up.


    But you have not really searched for it, either. Never asked anyone.


    No. Ive not exactly had time to ponder it. But its always been there, in the back of my mind. And when my curiosity peaks, Ive hesitated to look into it further.


    Do you know why? Maya peered at me. A strand of dark blue hair creased her brow and she pushed it back behind her ear.


    You saw much when you looked into my mind. But you didnt see everything. My history and childhood. My Mother was the closest to real family Ive ever had.


    Was? Maya probed.


    Is. I corrected myself. She died, in my first life. A blood sickness. In the end, the physicians couldnt heal her. I paused then, waiting for the glaze of unseeing to wash over her, banishing my words to the ether. But it didnt happen. Maya studied me with the same rapt attention. For reasons that were beyond me, as far as Maya was concerned, the curse was broken.


    And the magicians could do nothing?


    I shook my head. Not our magicians. As far as I know, a human has never awakened to life magic. If they had, my father would assuredly have found them.


    Maya considered that. The infernals are similar, to a lesser extent. It was surprising to a fellow life elemental in the sanctum. I am used to being a rarity amongst my kind. I assume the king turned to the elves?


    Yes. He was forced to turn to the elves, and the elves rejected him in turn. Not that I can blame them, really, considering what hed been doing in the years prior.


    I see. Her voice was quiet. And you hoped that I would heal her.


    I thought you saw all that, in my mind.


    Not exactly. I was privy to some of your thoughts, but you have to remember the sheer amount of information I was absorbing. All the recurring events, your trauma, your despair. It was... difficult to parse.


    I imagine it was. I ran my hand across the stone ground, feeling the grit beneath my fingers. It... factored. Your ability to heal. But Im not confident whether it would have pushed me one way or another. I had the demon-fire. Logically, heading to the enclave, attempting to reopen the dimensional gate, adding in the fact that I knew you and to some extent, you knew me, Im not sure that I would have started anywhere else.


    Maya laughed suddenly, the sound ringing out over the shelled out mountain.


    What? I asked.


    It explains so much. She wiped a mirthful tear away. You were so damn considerate, after we left the Everwood. Almost grand. As angry as I was that you hid who you were, I remember being completely shocked when you stood up to your rangers. A prince, willing to fight his own men, for the sake of an infernal he had known for only a matter of days. And then you continued, offering me increasingly absurd gifts. Mayas mouth quirked. Dont take this the wrong way, but your kind has a certain reputation for being indiscernibly lecherous. Factoring in other comments you made in jest and...


    I chuckled. You thought I was trying to seduce you.


    Yes.


    I havent been hiding this from you. My mothers illness. It was always something I meant to talk about. In fact, I nearly did, in the early days at the enclave. After my trial.


    What stopped you? Maya leaned in a bit, clearly curious. You know I would have said yes. Happily. You had already done so much for me that it was almost obligatory.


    Because I realized what I really wanted from you was not so simple. And given your feelings, inherently selfish. I realized Id misspoken when her eyebrow shot up.


    My feelings


    Can we put that aside, just for a moment? We will return to it. Gods know Ive made you wait long enough.


    Her tail wrapped around her wrist. Very well. What was it you wanted from me?


    It has been several!


    Im afraid because I dont know what it means! Months and months of confusion and indecision ripped out of me. Because the last time I felt this way, it was all wonderful and beautiful and real until it was taken from me. And when it was taken, I threw away my crown, and my life, and the responsibilities of an entire kingdom just to spurn the ones who stole her from me. Nothing mattered but her.


    Lillian. Maya said, her face pale. So that is why you have been talking in circles, and so infuriatingly circumspect? Intentionally misinterpreted my feelings? Because you fear distraction? There was a touch of scorn in her voice.


    You are not a distraction. I walked over to where she stood, frozen. Now closer, I noticed she was trembling. But just as how I am no longer who I was, the responsibilities on my shoulders have grown insurmountably larger. Which is whydammit, even telling you this is selfish. My will crumpled and I half-turned. Something snaked out and grabbed my arm. We both looked down to see Mayas tail, wrapped tightly around my arm. She muttered an apology, then reached out to take my hand.


    After everything you have done. Everything youve sacrificed. Youve earned a little selfishness. So tell me.


    I need to see Lillian again.


    Maya started to pull away, and I pulled her back.


    Not like that. Its just that her disappearance, her death? It haunts me. For reasons, I cannot entirely explain. We were never going to work. Not even in that world, where my responsibilities were so much less than they are now. Logically, it shouldnt matter. But I need closure.


    And what does that look like? Maya asked.


    Ill walk into their shop. Guntherher father, will shout from the back, to give them a moment. Lillian will come to the front. Shell ask what Im looking for, and Ill ask for an arrowroot ointment. Well chat about the applications, and shell smile in the way she always did. Ill tell her the store is too beautiful for topside. Then shell scowl, and make a comment about how theyve been looking to move into the nicer districts, but the overhead is too much. Ill reply that, actually, I know someone in violet square whos looking to sell, quickly and discretely. Ill put her in touch with the seller, who I have already settled up with, and that will be the end of it.


    As simple as that? Maya asked, doubtfully.


    Yes but my selfishness doesnt end there. I looked deeply into her eyes. She wouldnt like the rest of what I needed to say, but honesty was critical here.


    I dont know what I feel. What it can or cannot be. But whatever it is it doesnt change the fact that I cannot marry for love.


    Maya recoiled as if slapped.


    I pressed on. Dismissing the idea of a political marriage is a mistake I cannot afford to make again. It ruined me when the stakes were not nearly this high. Considering how little time we have, I cant imagine a scenario where that wont come into being.


    Who said anything about marrying you? Maya laughed, but her voice strained.


    You deserve better than a partial truth. I looked down. But maybe youll understand now why Ive hesitated. We are too young. And I cannot be who I was. I have a prior engagement to resolve, and any relationship we might havewere it to work out that waywould come second to my responsibilities to the kingdom.


    Holy shit! Jorra yelled from across the cave, holding up an artifact from the satchel, Cairn, you have to see this


    We watched, bemused, as Bell appeared out of nowhere and dragged him away with a flurry of furious whispers.


    We had a spectator, Maya observed dryly.


    So it would seem. I shook my head.


    Now then. I have been quite generous with your allotted seconds. Maya said.


    What?


    Time is up. Repeat what you said. Maya tugged on my arm playfully.


    I sighed. I love you, Nilend.


    There was a long pause. We stared at each other, both completely serious, until a smile broke out on Mayas face.


    Lord below, was that so hard? Maya asked, even as she blushed a deeper shade of violet.


    I cant promise anything. And I dont know what the future holds. But I hope that youll be there, with me, until the end.


    Maya embraced me, and I held her back, my throat tight. Some part of me regretted this. Id come too close to losing her, and because of that, Id been unable to stay the most responsible course of keeping my emotions to myself.


    She pushed me back, staring up at me. I will need to think on your words. You have been truthful with me, and I wish to be truthful in return. So, I will need to consider, carefully, if I can accept the rather difficult parameters you have set before me.


    Of course.


    But this is my vow, no matter what the future holds. I will lift you up when you fall, breathe life into you when death comes calling. I will rise with you, fall with you, grieve with you, grow with you. This is my vow. Until the emerald sea dulls gray, and the demons rise at the dawning of the long dark, I will stand at your side. She gazed up at me, eyes pearlescent in the shadow and flickering light.


    The time for words had passed. So instead, I pulled her into an embrace, enjoying the moment of peace before we inevitably returned to the storm.

 Chapter 106: Sanctum XXXI

    Chapter 106: Sanctum XXXI


    It felt like it took months to get down that mountain, Jorra complained. But his words didnt hold the same bite as before, feeling more as if they were directed at the sanctum itself than any of us. Also, were underground. And yet, big snowy mountains. It makes no sense.


    Oh? Bell piped up, her eyes crinkling in a smile. The traditional braid that followed behind her bobbed back and forth as we walked. And the desert was so logical? And the spooky mossy forest. And the underground tunnel filled with smelly lizards


    See, Maya pivoted mid-step, so she was walking backwards, looking at both of them, The tunnels were more what I was expecting.


    Right? Jorra exclaimed.


    Although, had you paid attention, little brother, you would have heard mother and father mention the echoes.


    Echoes? I glanced over at Maya. She nearly tripped, taking a few quick backward hops until she righted herself. Once she did, she glanced away quickly, cheeks flushed.


    Yes. The larger chambers we have been traversing populated with similar sections of land to the overworld.


    I never heard them say anything along those lines, Jorra muttered.


    They did not often speak of them. Because these areas are meant to be much more rare.


    That caught my attention. How is that possible? Practically every chamber weve entered has had something from the outside world.


    The configuration is changing, Bell said.


    Everyone has heard of smaller chambers shifting, passages closing. But transformation this scale? Maya asked.


    My father said it was possible. Bellarex said, as an illusory silhouette seemingly unfurled on the peripheral of my vision. I didnt have to look to guess who It was. Erdos. I knew if I looked at him, Bells late father would be smiling that same sad smile. I shook my head to clear the image, and Bellarex continued to speak, That in times of great strife or war, the sanctum would often rearrange itself in big ways. Like it was trying to fend off invaders, or give us access to the things we needed.


    So if thats true Jorra trailed off.


    Then the sanctum sees Thoth as an existential threat. I finished, my hand tightening around the hilt of my sword.


    Such a large magical entity threatened by a single person. Maya shook her head. It is difficult to fathom.


    Or theres something bigger happening on a level we dont know about. Bell said. She smiled. Its quite exciting. I never thought anything like this would happen in my lifetime. Or that Id get to be a part of it. Just wish the circumstances werent so


    Dire? Jorra asked, dryly.


    Yes. Bell replied. A bit of the energy seemed to go out of her step, then she suddenly ran up beside her. Im going to scout ahead.


    You have the signal orb? I asked, referring to the water beads Jorra had infused and magically linked.


    Got it.


    Okay, Maya said, Be careful.


    As I watched Bell sprint into the distance, I tried to ignore the specter of Erdos that lingered at the sides of my vision. It had been happening more and more since my discussion with Morthus, and I wasnt ready to unpack what it meant.


    Instead, I tried to focus on the positive: the tension that had held the group in a stranglehold for days had finally released. It wasnt perfect. All Id really done was take our pursuer off the board. My biting words were guaranteed to have a lingering effect, even though they were said in a guiseit was to their credit that they seemed to have risen above it, taking an event that could have easily dissolved the group and using it to fuel their motivation and focus. It was a much-needed reminder that I chose my companions well.


    Something bothers me about what Bell said. I squinted my eyes, scanning the snow strewn canyon for anything resembling a threat.


    About the sanctum? Maya asked.


    We know that Thoth is set on doing something to the prime leyline. Maybe releasing the monsters within the chamber, maybe something more nefarious.


    The first thing already sounds plenty nefarious, Jorra commented.


    My point is, I continued, The target is obvious to us. And we know practically nothing about this place. I can only assume it''s much more obvious to the sanctum itself.


    A flash of realization crossed Mayas face. So why is the sanctum not doing more to stop her?


    I nodded. There are all sorts of serious threats down here lurking off the beaten path, correct? Things that could snuff us out as a matter of course.


    Vivisectaurs, Ivory Trolls, Drakes, Bile Frogs Jorra listed a half dozen other creatures until he ran out of fingers to count off. Yeah. Pretty much any of those would destroy us in a straight fight. It wouldnt even be close.


    I would not be surprised, given what I know about her Mayas eyes flicked to Jorra, then back to me. If she had some way of fooling the sanctum itself. It is the only possibility that makes sense.


    Jorra visibly shivered.


    We walked in silence, considering that. Verdant indigo grass peeked out from the thinning snow, shyly reaching out towards the clouded dome that made up our sky. Small animals moved through the brush. In my minds eye, I saw the man that I had killed.


    There was no question in my mind that I made the right decision. Id guessed, through a mix of simple logical leaps and a bit of luck that there was tension between Thoth and Cowl. But somehow it still didnt sit well. Even though the desperate, last second offer to assist us was total bullshit. If I was more confident in my ability to manipulate, maybe I could have set up a scenario where helping us was his only option. We never couldve trusted him, but the idea of killing more full developed mages that Thoth had pulled to her side felt wasteful. It was all too easy to forget the outside reality when I was in the enclave and sanctum, surrounded by magic users with awakened elements. Amongst the dwarves, or even my people, each magician taken off the board would be a much more serious loss. The elves were the only group where magic was equivalently bountiful.


    I scanned the surrounding hills where Jorra disappeared, looking for any trace of him. Thoth and my father had one thing in common: the primary tool in their diplomatic repertoire was a hammer. I wasnt underestimating Thoth after hundreds of years spent manipulating nations and leading forces, that would be a foolish assumption. Instead, I was betting based on my experiences with her that she had simply grown tired of the nuance. Id experience that to a much lesser extent. When you solve a puzzle the first time, at the moment when all the pieces finally come together to form a coherent whole, theres a sense of excitement, of exhilaration. But if you try to solve the same puzzle again, it becomes rote. Instead of being caught up in the solving of the thing, as you were the first time, you start prioritizing efficiency over exploration, the joy of it mostly gone. Thoth had already solved this section of puzzle many, many times.


    I had to be better. More willing to put myself out there, to explore, regardless of risk. Unlike Thoth, I didnt have the power or sheer quantity of foreknowledge to rely solely on those brutal efficiencies. This current situation wasnt ideal for that, not with the crisis of the current loop looming over my shoulder. But it was something to keep in mind for the future.


    Bell nodded. She had no way of knowing this, of course, but in many ways that fight mirrored our very first conflict, at the beginning of the enclave loop. The only difference was that I didnt use the same cheap trick I had the first time.


    I smiled, shaking my head. You wiped the floor with us.


    Bell looked a little guilty. I thought you were trying to punish me for my fathers sins under the guise of friendly competition. I would not ordinarily have fought that hard in a simple spar.


    I snorted. Somehow, I doubt that. I get that part of what youre asking is if pity was a factor. And maybe it was, in the initial conversation. But that aspect died as soon as the skirmish began. And in the end, you won.


    I seem to remember it ending in a tie.


    An uneven spar, where both sides are so exhausted they cant even stand? I shook my head. Thats clearly your victory.


    Bell smiled for a moment, some playfulness coming back into her face. You were wheezing.


    Was not.


    Pretty sure there was wheezing.


    Youre misremembering, I corrected. That was obviously Jorra.


    Bell snickered. The tension lessened. Sensing the moment had come, I sat across the mushrooms from her. After the slightest hesitation, she joined me.


    I let out a long sigh. You want the truth?


    Bell nodded.


    Very well. Yes, Ralakos initially asked me to check on you. Bell bristled, but I pushed on before she could speak. And knowing nothing about you apart from your hobbies I suggested sparring on a lark, knowing it was something we both had in common. I grinned. And then you wrecked us. And when you look at the context, I think its clear who got the better part of the deal.


    I watched as Bell seemed to process that, evaluate it. Then the tension broke. She smiled toothily, leaning forward with her palms on her knees, Guess I should have asked for a stipend.


    Damn right, you should have.


    The alert sphere jostled twice in my pocket, indicating a non-imminent problem, and in the span of a blink, Bell was gone, scrambling out of the alcove and sprinting in the direction that Jorra had headed. I chased after her alongside Maya, who had paused to wait for us. I watched as the distance between us grew, Bells short-cropped braids bounced helpless with her fervent pace.


    My smile faded.


    To quote Thaddeus once more, the best lies are closest to the truth. The vast majority of what I had told Bellarex was accurate. I hadnt thrown the spar. Granted, I hadnt used my gauntlet, or fallen back on the same dirty trick I used to win the first time. But I had fought my heart out alongside Jorrawho wouldnt throw a spar to save his lifeand we still lost. I truly had faith in her abilities.


    But shed been so close to rooting out the lie.


    It wasnt pity that brought me to her door.


    It was guilt.


    Everything alright? Maya said.


    I shook my head, pushing back the memory that hounded me. There were better things to focus on. Jorras alert. Some very special potions to brew. It was better to focus on the present.


    It will be, I said.


    /////


    We crested a hill, and stopped a meter behind Jorra in collective awe. From here we should have been able to see the edge of the dome. But instead, there was a gargantuan gatenot unlike the entrance gate to the enclave, but far more complex and ancient in design. The gate was filled with violet darkness.


    My amulet burned, and I summoned Vogrin. He hopped out, gawked at the gate alongside the rest of us, then studied it, grumbling to himself.


    Whats wrong? I asked him.


    Everything.


    How is it wrong, Vogrin? Maya asked.


    This. Vogrin pointed at the portal, as if its very presence offended him. Was not here when my constructs mapped the perimeter.


    Thoth? I asked.


    No, Vogrin shook his head, Something this substantial would kill even the strongest arch-mage in milliseconds.


    The sanctum shifted, Maya realized.


    In a massive, massive way. I need to do some more analysis, but I can tell you at a glance this thing is an exorbitant resource drain.


    What if the Sanctum is trying to give us a shortcut? Bell asked.


    Something cold gripped me. According to what Vogrin had said earlier, we werent far from Thoth, and by extension, the prime leyline. So, why now?


    That I trailed off, staring at the gate. I could see faces in darkness, faint and twisted. Or its trying to slow us down.

 Chapter 107: Sanctum XXXII

    Chapter 107: Sanctum XXXII


    It stemmed from the sanctums reputation. Rumors that hadnt reflected reality. I had been toldoriginally by Morthus, then practically everyone I spoke to on the topic afterwardthat the sanctum was not to be taken lightly. It was a trial by fire for the infernals, after all. It was said to be unstable, unpredictable, and most of all, dangerous.


    But the greatest threats up to this point had been due to Thoths direct action, not the sanctum itself. We had been repeatedly warned that stepping off the beaten path would be an incredibly dangerous affair. Yet, wed been able to handle everything the sanctum had thrown at us with little difficulty.


    Originally, I wondered if the sanctum was helping us. Streamlining our efforts to catch up to an individual who posed a direct threat to the well-being of the leyline. Giving us a more-or-less straight line to follow while doing everything it could to obstruct Thoth.


    Now, looking at the portal that so effectively and directly blocked our path, I couldnt help but wonder if Id had it backward. With Thoth so close, it seemed the only purpose of such an ominous looking portal was to slow us down.


    An orange light that surrounded the dark thrumming gate faded as Vogrin stood, blindfolded head tilting upward slowly, bits of grass falling from where his knee had impacted the grass. Based on my analysis, I can make several predictions with relative confidence. It is not a deathtrap, it does not have any maledictions brewed in. It is, despite all its trappings and contingencies to ensure it remains in place, a simple transportation spell. The portal goes somewhere. That is, however, as far as my supposition ends.


    I stared at him dumbly. Theres nothing more you can tell us?


    Vogrin scowled. You should be grateful for what I am providing. I doubt a team of infernal researchers working around the clock could give you a fraction of what I have in the same span of time.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bell circumvent the gate and press her hand to the stone behind it. A handful of shadows escaped her fingertips, seeping into the stone. She looked back towards us in confusion. Odd. It feels like the original passage closed.


    Even if we had an earth mage, it wouldnt matter, Jorra realized.


    Maya approached Vogrin, keeping her tone demure. If you had more time to study the portal, would it make a difference?


    No, Vogrins lips pressed together. Well, maybe. But gates like this are complicated-


    There was a flash of movement on my left. Without really thinking about it, I summoned a small, focused gust of wind and slammed it into the moving object before it could reach Vogrin. It fell over and rolled, skidding before coming to a stop dozens of feet away.


    I blinked, watching as the blocky, unwieldy body of the constructshaped somewhat similarly to a portly child, struggled to sit up. It was almost unrecognizable. Where its outer layer had once been sheer, rounded, and pristine with a marble texture, it was now, blackened, scarred by several chunks, and missing one of its four legs. It staggered rather pathetically towards Vogrin, the blue gem in its forehead eyeing me suspiciously as it waddled towards him. It bowed, then bobbed back and forth, not unlike an animal looking for praise.


    Vogrin grasped it by the head and breathed in, tendrils of blue mist leaving the constructs forehead and flowing into his mouth. All at once, it shuddered, and trembled, and dropped to the ground.


    I studied the small heap of rock where the thing had disassembled. Was that the only one that made it back?


    So it would seem, Vogrin said, his voice distracted. They appear to have run into quite a lot of trouble. This one spent most of its time dodging a drake of all things in some facsimile of the Teregrin Highlands.


    I raised an eyebrow. Teregor was known collectively as the dark continent, home to an absurdly large number of tales regarding its many myths and monsters. Any ship attempting to explore the area was either summarily destroyed or disappeared entirely.


    Bell poked the corpse with the toe of her boot. Poor thing. It traveled all this way only for you to eat it.


    It served its purpose.


    But why did you have to eat it? Bell asked.


    I did not eat it! Vogrin snapped. I extracted its animus, so I could review its memories until I will return it to nothing, a process that is taking longer because you are pestering me.


    Jorra looked over at Bell, seriously. Sometimes you just get hungry.


    Its notyoure being Vogrin stopped and covered his face with his hand. Children. Im surrounded by children.


    I shrugged. Teregor is rather infamous. Crossing even a small portion of that land is notable, let alone evading a drake.


    Vogrin looked between me and Bell, seeming to wonder if there was some sort of joke happening at his expense. And?


    Would it inhibit you to keep the animus intact until we need a scout again? I asked.


    It would be an annoyance, but a small one, Vogrin finally admitted. Ordinarily, I would consume the animus and return it to my mana pool


    What would you do? Jorras foot tapped on the ground at a rapid pace. If we left you for real. Like we pretended to at the mountain?


    I shrugged. Same thing Id do if you didnt leave. Poke the bull. Try to draw her attention, pull her away from the leyline. Stall until backup arrives.


    Jorra pinched his forehead. And what sort of back up are you getting thats going to help against that.


    I wasnt sure how much information to give him. The infernals might have frequently used demons, but they seemed to actively disprove of anyone who made a deal with them out of desperation.


    An arch-fiend, Maya provided, jumping in before my hesitation could trigger suspicion.


    Jorras eyebrow jumped. The Ozra you keep referring to? He gave Vogrin an incredulous look. Wait, you cant be serious. They just tried to take over! An asmodial arch-fiend?


    The asmodial arch-fiend, really. Vogrin said, not helping whatsoever.


    Cairn was able to work with Ralakos and resolve the situation in a manner that benefitted both parties. So, yes, he was able to call in a favor. Maya shot me a look that sent a clear message: Dont talk about the contract.


    I took over. As Maya said, there are serious reinforcements on the way. But theres still a significant gap in time before they get here.


    A biting chill cut through the air. The temperature dropped by five or seven degrees. The light cutting through the perma-cloud lessened. It was the closest the sanctum ever came to night.


    You dont just have visions, do you? Jorra asked. The question caught me off-balance, but I could see no reason not to answer.


    Its more complicated than that.


    He bit his lip. Im not even sure what I would call it. But I watched, when you were training with the elder in the desert. Your air element was terrible


    The second is always harder, you dwin. Bell smacked him.


    Jorra scowled, rubbing his arm. Yeah, sure, but Cairn was pretty hopeless. I started questioning things then, which just meant paying attention. The elder was very patient, but


    I interrupted before Bell could smack him again. Hes right, Bell. My magic, my abilities, are affected by my visions. My progress with the air element is a great example of that. The thing is, that wont help us here. I wont be able to manage the last second ass-pulls I have in the past. Well only have one shot at this.


    There was a profound silence then as each of them contemplated my words. It made sense. From their perspective, I was their safety net. I won battles, found creative solutions, pulled them back from the brink, all seemingly without cost. Only Maya knew the price. Instead of staring at the ground like the others, she was looking at me, muscles in her throat moving like she was about to speak.


    But Jorra spoke first. What youre saying, is that the gloves are off. With or without us, youre going to walk blindly into a situation that could very easily be a deathtrap. For reasons you cant explain, your abilities are hamstrung, and even if you manage to get beyond whatever that, he indicated the gate, is, youll have to deal with Thoth.


    I closed my eyes. Thats about it, yes.


    This was it. The breaking moment. Things had been going so well. Jorra, Maya, Bell, they were more reliable than any friends Id ever had, and they managed to stick by me twice as long. But this was not a reasonable request.


    You need us more than ever, then, Jorra said, his voice firm.


    What? I blinked.


    We knew the dangers going in, Bell followed, skipping up to stand beside me. And yes, this is more dangerous, and possibly very stupid. But I cant imagine turning back now.


    Maya gave me a warm look of encouragement, that told me I didnt even have to ask.


    A mix of emotions flooded me. A mix of anxiety and stress, but chief among them, gratitude. I turned and looked at the gate.


    So what now? Jorra asked. Do we just go in?


    No. I shook my head, staring at the violet portal that rippled with endless waves that drew inward, almost beckoning us forward. I need to make some potions first.

 Chapter 108: Sanctum XXXIII

    Chapter 108: Sanctum XXXIII


    But on top of the fact that the ingredients were devilishly rare, the potions half-life was incredibly short, lasting less than two days before it went over. It was also practically pointless to use outside the sanctumif the expanded pathways werent flooded by the increased ambient mana in the sanctum strata, the change was temporary, and the mana paths would return to normal.


    Casikas had referred to this as the golden grail of sanctum potions. The sort of thing that even the most talented alchemist would only have one opportunity for. Given our current situation, that was almost poetic.


    I was a bit nervous during the process. The brewing required a sustained high-heat, but I only messed up the first batch, leaving us with enough for five. It didnt have an additive effect, so after Vogrin confirmed everything was in order, I handed out the rest and pocketed the last one.


    We all drank our potions in grim silence. The low-humming of the gate served as a constant reminder of what we were about to do.


    Jorra finally hacked a violent cough. Lord below, thats disgusting.


    Like taffy thats gone over. Bell smacked her lips.


    Still, quite a bit more pleasant than the iron-lung potion you gave me, Maya said.


    I shifted towards her. You used that?


    Oh yes. She winked. My initial year in the sanctum was harried. I will tell you the story after we make it through.


    There was a feeling not unlike all my muscles were expanding at once. A chorus of groans followed, telling me the others were experiencing something similar. The feeling of stretching moved away from my muscles, to my neck, to my legs.


    It is officially worse now, Maya moaned.


    A few minutes of discomfort later, the feeling passed, and we rose shakily to our feet.


    I squeezed my fist tightly, looking at the gate, then released my fingers with a slow breath. Okay. Order of operations. Jorra, use your demon to check for any hazards. The tiny insect on his shoulder nodded in unison with him, which was slightly eerie. Maya, hang back.


    I can take a more active role, Maya protested.


    I shook my head. I know you can. But if you go down, were all at risk.


    Finally, I looked at Bell. There was a mix of emotions on her face. Excitement. Trepidation. Trust.


    Something twisted in my gut. I ignored it.


    Bell. Youre with me up front. Were going to push this hard. As long as Jorras demon can clear the area, we go as fast as we can, and only clear what we have to.


    Im ready. Bell grinned.


    I wanted to say more. But any sentiment I had was repetitive at this point. They knew the plan. And they would follow me, no matter the outcome. So instead of waxing poetic, or repeating myself, I drew my sword and set it aflame.


    Ready?


    They drew their weapons.


    Lets get this done.


    I turned and ran headfirst into the portal.


    /////


    Entering the portal to the enclave was a simple experience, only off-putting the first few times. It was like stepping through a membrane that offered slight resistance, then snapped, and you instantly found yourself in another place. I think, on a subconscious level, I expected something similar.


    It was entirely different. Instead of pushing against you, the violet portal pulled you in, a gelatinous vacuum. It pulled at my eyes until I was forced to close them. Panic tugged at me for a moment, as it was not unlike the sensation I felt when I died and was pulled into the void. But there was no feeling of disembodiment, just a constant, unyielding pull.


    I was assailed by images. Infernals at war, using primitive weapons against demons. They appeared to be losing, constantly pushed back by a massive collective of nightmarish throngs. I immediately recognized Asmodials in the mix of opposition, as well as massive insects, dogs, and beings that looked like angels that I took to from the Decarabia legion.


    Does that happen? I asked, lowering my tone to match his.


    Only if something greater is keeping them here. Vogrin answered.


    The tiny ticking sensation grew louder. It wasnt so much what Vogrin had said, more how he had said it. The demon carried a constant air of irritability and hated explaining things, no matter the question.


    I spoke carefully. Vogrin, do you remember what you said? When Ozra gave you a choice in the Twilight Chambers?


    Vogrin was silent, continuing to lead me on the circuitous path. If hed stayed that way, I likely would have yanked my arm away and drawn my sword. But then, he answered.


    That Id rather return to hades. Judging from our current circumstances, that clearly would have been the better option. His voice was snide and irritable. The sort of tone I expected from him.


    The alarm in my head lessened. That last sentiment had been quintessentially Vogrin. Perhaps it was just paranoia. There were times he had been more serious, less pathetically glib.


    Hello? I heard a voice call.


    Vogrin stilled. Dont move, He growled quietly. One of the specters has awakened.


    My entire body tensed as we paused in the darkness.


    The voice was loud, with a slightly pompous way of speaking. Heard you calling, friend. Not sure if you know what youve gotten yourself into, but youve stumbled into a trial. You cant believe anything you hear in there.


    You cannot trust spirits, Vogrin whispered, his hiss cutting off the new voices words.


    Its probably telling you right now that you cant trust me, the voice said. Vogrin stiffened. But if you can hear me, run towards my voice.


    My mind raced for a moment. There was no give away, no tell, the only thing putting me off Vogrins slight hesitation. Like Id fall for that. I scoffed.


    A wise choice. Vogrin said.


    Without a seconds hesitation, I called the flame and plunged it into the back of his head. For a moment, everything was so bright it was almost blinding, a single image imprinted on my retinas.


    A fleshy, melting facsimile of my demon was lurching forward, reaching up toward the fire that burned at his skull. Long medallions of bloody skin hung from the creatures chin and neck. He was clad in a butchers apron, covered in crimson and blood, a giant cleaver in his left hand. Before us was a coffin filled with cruel scarlet painted spikes.


    There was no question what it was intended for.


    The darkness rushed in and snapped his head forward, extinguishing the demon-fire before it could do any meaningful damage. I turned and sprinted toward the voice. The monster howled in rage as I stumbled through a field of bodies, tripping and tumbling at every turn, hollow bones cracking beneath me and flesh giving way.


    Run friend, run! The voice called out to me. I reoriented towards it. Pale white specters rose, barely visible in the blackness, howling, hands and nails clawing at their faces, swiping at me, seething with rage.


    The monster huffed behind me, breathing laborious wet breaths. I propelled myself forward with the inscriptions, finding to my relief the darkness did not seem to care about internal magic, and sprinted. But the monster picked up speed.


    I felt its breath on my neck.


    All I could think about was the moment I would go back to. Forever fighting that battle against the corrupted mercenaries, trying over and over until my mind left me. Watching Maya die, over and over again.


    I bent down deep and dove forward, using a flat platform of air magic to prolong my jump.


    The light blinded me as I rolled into the room. There was a loud thunking noise as the door slammed shut behind me.


    I blinked my eyes furiously, trying to adjust to the light, scrambling up to my feet and brandishing my sword.


    Heart racing in my throat, blurry objects slowing coming back into focus, I honed in on the last person I expected to see. The hells are you doing here?


    A younger, more spindly version of the infernal I came to know as Ralakos looked me up and down. A better question, human. What the hells are you doing here?

 Chapter 109: Sanctum XXXIV

    Chapter 109: Sanctum XXXIV


    Startled and shaking from the close call, it took a long time for my mind to correctly interpret what my eyes were seeing. The infernal before me wasnt a younger version of Ralakos. Hed looked identical at first glance, but as I took him in more and more, the differences became more stark. His mouth was sterner, and his eyebrows more defined. Still, the resemblance was significant to the point where I couldnt help but stare.


    Youre looking at me like you know me, but Im rather certain Id remember meeting a human who did not try to kill me on sight. Gods, they even spoke the same.


    At first, I thought it might be another illusion, then several things occurred to me at once. If this was meant to be some sort of trial, I doubted it would have pulled the same trick twice. Secondly, if it was an illusion, it was a poor one. The infernal hadnt even pretended to know me, and seemed to have no knowledge of the individual he was impersonating.


    No, this was something else.


    I gathered my thoughts, turning to take in our surroundings. The room was circular and bare, with only a small circular basin in the middle. It was perfectly round, the water pristine and still. Finally, my breathing returned to normal.


    I turned back to the infernal, who still watched me warily, my mothers words in the back of my mind.


    If you dont know how to move forward, decency and diplomacy costs you nothing.


    Let me start over. Thank you for the warning. Im Cairn.


    The infernal looked amused. He muttered to himself in demonic. You dont fear for your soul?


    That caught me off-guard, until I realized he was referring to the human folk tales surrounding infernals. I laughed and replied in demonic. I fear for my soul plenty, but not from you, friend. He called me friend before hed met me, it only seemed polite to respond in kind.


    The infernals eyebrow rose. Sure. A polite, non-murderous human in the sanctum who speaks demonic. If this is an illusion, its a bad one. The infernal said, unknowingly echoing my earlier thought. He reached out to clasp my arm, returning the gesture. I am known as Xarmos.


    A memory stirred from long ago, when Ralakos had told me a cautionary tale besides an infernal monument from the war. The story of his son.


    The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Still, I gripped his arm for the requisite moment and released it.


    Xarmos inclined his head toward the room. A nasty trial, that one.


    It was. I agreed.


    My wife called to me. Her voice, the feel of her hand, everything was exactly the same. If I hadnt known beyond all certainty that she was not in the sanctum, it would have been the end of me. He shook his head, then glanced at me. Who did you see?


    My demon. I held up the amulet for Xarmos. He chuckled.


    Something funny?


    Nothing. You get harder to believe with every word you speak. Which, for some reason, is more convincing than anything else that you are real, Xarmos said. He rubbed at his eyes, then straightened, smiling apologetically.


    No. It wasnt a trick of the mind or an illusion. The wise features, the way he held himself, the horns. Horns Id seen Ralakos gesture to on the monument wall. This was that Xarmos. Someone I knew to be dead.


    What the hells was happening?


    Whats your fathers name, Xarmos? I asked him carefully. There were multiple possibilities and ways this could play out, but for the moment it was best not to overplay my hand.


    He jerked back and stared at me. Damn this place. His hand moved towards his sword. Another second and he would have pulled it.


    I didnt give it to him. I threw myself forward, drawing the shattered dagger on my back and pressing it lightly against his neck. He raised his hands slowly, his throat bobbing, eyes wide. Quick.


    Have to be, I said through gritted teeth. Now stay still. Im done with this game, and to be honest with you, I dont remember the last time I put poison on this thing. What is your fathers name?


    My father is Ralakos.


    Hearing confirmation didnt make me feel any better. What exactly was I supposed to do with that information? Why did you suddenly change your mind?


    Because I just had a vision about my father. Then, you, somehow who has no business being here, comes in asking about my father. What was I supposed to think? His eyes glanced down at the blade nervously. Is that sad thing actually poisoned?


    It often is. I really dont remember.


    Somehow thats more terrifying.


    I know your father. Thats the only reason I asked. How long have you been down here?


    Xarmos looked confused by the question. A few years. He looked at the blade again. Mind if we continue this without threat of a slow and painful death?


    I breathed out, then relented. Fine.


    Only after I lowered my blade did I see the point of a small, angled knife pressed against the weak spot in my chitin breastplate.


    Fuck.


    Xarmos smirked at me. Mine was dipped in laudenshade. Definitively.


    Didnt know you were an alchemist, I murmured.


    I dabble, he replied. Then, with a smooth motion, he stepped away, flipping the knife in his hand and sliding it into a hidden sheathe beneath his wrist. I felt consummate relief. Strangely, I also found I immediately wanted a sheath and knife of similar make.


    How practical.


    See? Xarmos said casually. You did not stab me when you thought you had the upper hand, and I did not stab you when I did. We have established rapport.


    Hell of way to build trust. I grumbled, feeling at the spot beneath my breastplate, checking for any section the poison could have gotten through.


    Hips are a bit too full, bosom a bit sparse.


    Lillian looked down. I bit back a sharp retort before it could rise. This caliber of tailor would never make that sort of comment in the presence of a nobleman and his wife. No. Hed cast judgement on us at the doora nobleman, entering with a pretty commonerand drawn his own conclusions.


    Well I drew out the word, letting acid into my tone, it is a good thing we came to a tailor, whounless I am mistakenare known to make adjustments for such things.


    He glanced up, looking over his spectacles in surprise. Of course. To his minuscule credit, he seemed to realize he had read the situation very wrong. I was mistaken, my lord. I did not realize you were in the market for something custom.


    You did not realize much, Tailor.


    A bead of sweat formed on his forehead. Let me look again. I can do the custom work, for certain, but I must have something that will serve in the short term.


    Do as you please.


    He scurried away.


    The nerve, I said, just loud enough for him to hear me.


    I dont like it when you do this, Lillian said.


    What? I turned to her, confused. She was still studying the floor, hair shielding her face from me. He was completely unprofessional.


    Im not daft. I understand that. But it is not his fault he can see me for what I am.


    He looks. He does not see.


    But that is the point, my love. Lillian finally met my gaze. I can never be what you want me to be if you are always ready to jump to my defense, always ready to take the brunt out of every conflict.


    I could ruin him, I said, darkly.


    You will not. Lillian commanded. Her eyes burned. I saw it then, just for a moment. The side of her I glimpsed from time to time. The ruler. Unbidden, a smile came to my lips.


    I suppose I wont, then.


    The tailor came huffing back to us. I found just the thing. It was made special for a client with a very similar sizenothing wrong with it, but it clashed with her skin tone.


    And it would suite me? Lillian asked. Some of the earlier fire remained in her voice.


    The tailor stiffened, as if seeing her for the first time, then nodded. I dare say it might.


    Lillian glanced at me and I nodded. She smiled coyly.


    Turn around.


    I placed my hand against my heart as if she had broken it. Must I?


    You must.


    It took longer than Id expected. I heard Lillian ask several questions in a low voice. A hand tapped my shoulder. When I turned around, words left me.


    It was as if shed been draped in gold. The dress clung in all the right places. Her tanned shoulders and collarbone showed just enough to tease the slightest hint of impropriety. As the sun set it caught my eye, and as I blinked the brightness away, I could almost see the circlet crown upon her head.


    Do I look ridiculous? Lillian asked.


    I shook my head, my mouth dry. No.


    No?


    You look like a Queen.


    /////


    I sat upright, my heart racing. Sweat that crested my brow dripped into my eyes, stinging fiercely.


    Welcome back, Xarmos said. I waved him off, my mind still sprinting in circles.


    Why? What was the point of that? It wasnt a bad memory. It was almost a pleasant dream. The only ache that came was from the realization that it would likely never happen again. I pressed my hand against my heart, trying to banish the old, familiar ache. Why? I had thought that Id moved on, that I was over this. Why force me to relive it?


    Why?


    I must have spoken the question aloud because Xarmos answered.


    Infaris has a rather famous obsession with truth. As far as I can tell, the visions are meant to reveal something.


    Reveal what? That I had loved and lost? That my world and life had shifted in a manner that ensured Lillian would never fit? I heaved for breath, and struck my fist against the wall. There was no reveal. No hidden truth. It was just a painful memory.


    Xarmos offered me a hand and helped me to my feet. Im sure youll figure it out. Now, I still want an answer to my question, but first, we have bigger problems.


    I looked out through the door where he pointed. There was a series of stairs downward into a dark chasm. Across the chasm was another set of stairs, and another door. The chasm itself was filled with long, burning orange lights that were constantly moving in erratic patterns, almost like they were


    Serpents. Massive, spectral serpents.


    We could always go back to the other room, Xarmos said.

 Chapter 110: Sanctum XXXV

    Chapter 110: Sanctum XXXV


    I studied them desperately, searching for patterns. Anything I could use, anything that could possibly be exploited.


    It was useless.


    They didnt move like mindless sentinels. They moved like massive predators, scouring the barren rock for prey. My mind spun desperately. I turned to Xarmos, who looked equally perturbed. Any chance youve awakened the water element?


    He gave me a tired look. Yes. At some point, were going to have that conversation about how you seem to know so much about my family lineage


    Later, I waved him off, still focused on the problem at hand. Second stage?


    I can freeze things, yes. And your abilities?


    Air and fire. Considering the level of incredulity hed show me so far, I wasnt about to specify what kind. Im not particularly talented.


    Unfortunate. Xarmos mused. Our best bet against this sort of construct would be void magic. Snuff out the flames, stun the monsters and run. Barring that, an earth magician might be successful at redirecting their path and trapping them within the walls.


    I chuckled darkly.


    What? He asked.


    Just, I came in with a void magician.


    You were separated?


    Yes. Of course, the test had ripped Bell away from me. I hoped they were okay. My fists clenched at the thought of them going through trials like these alone. Nothing could ever be easy, or even fair for that matter. But the more I thought about it, searched myself, my frustration didnt stem from the current situation. It came mainly from the vision. I had been unable to parse it as anything apart from a memory. But something, like a dark talon, had begun to claw at the back of my mind.


    Well, that doesnt help us now, Xarmos said.


    Fair enough. But your water element


    Ive already considered it. He shook his head. You were considering flash freezing them, yes? Thats why you asked about the second stage?


    I know it seems like a long shot.


    It is not a bad idea, but I am better with spell casting and precision than with raw elemental magic. Xarmos chewed his lip. I would be hard-pressed to drench a thing as massive as one of those, let alone freezing it after.


    Fuck. There had to be a way. Something we werent seeing, some aspect of the trial that wasnt quite so obvious. I just had to think. Stare at the problem for long enough and the solution would come to me. Only, there could be no trial and error this time. Mayas life was on the line. An anxious fist welled up from my gut a pressed against my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe


    Until I saw Xarmos shrug, and walk past me towards the stairs.


    What are you doing? I hissed.


    I can tell, by looking, that you are the planning sort. Xarmos smiled. Ralakos is much the same. He prefers to sit in his study and analyze data and maps before taking any sort of action. But he also taught me that we do not always get that sort of luxury.


    And you expect me to just, what, follow you? I asked incredulously.


    His face turned serious. Of course not. But I hope that you will, Cairn the human. There is still much Id like to learn from you. He turned his head sideways and talked over his shoulder. Planning will only get you so far. Eventually, you must learn to improvise.


    With that, Xarmos turned and began to descend the stairs towards the serpents. His shoulders were broad, his frame thick with muscle. He looked every bit the hero I pretended to be. I wondered, with a sudden sadness, how he had died in the war. Had his confidence led to his fall? Or was it simply a matter of timethe cruel mathematics of war that would eventually claim all men who stood on the frontlines.


    With the resets, Id always been able to cheat, with the assurance that if I did, I could reconvene, at least for a few key moments and find a solution. But the black beast had made it clear that reliance on it was an insidious trap. The people I cared for would always been in peril. And if I continued to rely too deeply on that ability, if the day came I ever lost it, my final death would be a swift and inevitable conclusion.


    My solution wasnt perfect. Id infused the rock with much more mana than the spell took to sustain, but I was still actively casting a spell surrounded by creatures hyper-sensitive to magic.


    We crossed most of the valley before our luck ran out. A massive fire-serpent lurched in front of us. Its neck flared like a flaming, billowing cape. Xarmos turned around and swore. The fire serpents body had already circled us, pulling tighter and tighter still. We would be enveloped in a matter of moments.


    Xarmos scooped a much larger rock from the ground and infused it with mana until it glowed blue, so radiantly it was difficult to look at. He leaned back, throwing it in a high arc, so it traveled over the serpents body.


    No dice. It didnt move. Somehow, it knew that it had us.


    Im going to try to drench it! my companion yelled over the crackling of the fire. Unless you have a better idea!


    I did, though I hated having to use it. The smell of ozone was overwhelming, the heat blistering and unbearable. I pulled the glass marble from my pocket.


    If youre ever in a situation that is insurmountable, throw it on the ground and stomp on it. Then run.


    Dammit. Persephone had given it to me as a giftand despite her rather obvious connection to the underworld had been unwilling to tell me what it was. That alone told it was likely powerful, highly illegal, and dangerous. Id been unwilling to use it during the botched reset because my friends were in the crossfire and I had no idea what I was unleashing. Beyond that situation, Id wanted to save this for if I got in too deep with Thoth.


    Can you get out cleanly? I asked Xarmos.


    Yes, but I cant take you with me. He replied. The coils were drawing tighter and his back pressed against mine. I looked up at the massive beast and mentally calculated. It would be close, but with my inscriptions, there was a chance I could clear it.


    No need. Get ready. I dropped the marble to the granite ground and stomped on it. The reaction was spontaneous and horrifying. There was suddenly no ceiling, just a thick red mist that covered a massive swath of ceiling.


    Youre insane! Move! Xarmos shouted at me, drenching a section of the serpent and pulling himself up and over the scales that had been temporarily extinguished.


    I crouched low, my back to the wall of the serpents body, gathering power in my legs. Theyd started to ache terribly, mana burning as it gathered in pathways that were already overworked.


    Come on. Come on.


    I catapulted myself upwards in a slow high jump Bell taught me, one meant almost exclusively for clearing tall vertical barriers. My legs ached as I arced through the air, and in seconds that passed terribly slowly, I watched a black clawed hand plunge through the red mist at the ceiling. My gut clenched.


    What... is that?


    Then, Id twisted around in the air to land, and ascended the stairs to the exit where Xarmos waited, watching in awe.


    I turned back to look. It looked as if the ceiling was giving a slow, painful birth to a living nightmare. A creature that dwarfed the serpents nearly as much as the serpents dwarfed us, had worked a terrible black arm through the fissure, as well as part of its face. Only its mouth was visible: long thin teeth gnawed against the section of ceiling that had remained firm, making a terrible grinding noise as it tried to widen the hole. Blindly, almost casually, it swiped at the serpents below, sending them flying with as effortlessly as a child throwing toys.


    A prime evil. Xarmos whispered.


    Seemingly realizing it was making no progress in escapingand that the hole seemed to be narrowing, rather than the other way aroundthe demon reached down and grabbed the head of the most prominent serpent. The snake wiggled in his grasp, but it was meaningless. The demon crushed the snakes skull in an explosion of blood and flame.


    Let''s go. I said, as the arm rescinded into the hole.


    Xarmos kept quiet and followed behind me. The door opened, and I couldnt help but groan. There was another fountain. This one was much more ornate, surrounded by vases and greenery that looked foreign and hand-tended.


    Youre not from my time, are you? Xarmos said. It was more of a statement than a question.


    I stopped. That was strange. Id always assumed that there was something about my curse that prevented others from thinking in that direction. But it didnt matter. As soon as I acknowledge it, his face would slacken, and he would forget. Best to get that over with.


    Howd you figure it out? I asked.


    Xarmoss face never changed.

 Chapter 111: Sanctum XXXVI

    Chapter 111: Sanctum XXXVI


    The trials of Infaris are known for this. Pulling in individuals from different points in history, allowing them to collide. Its the only thing that makes sense. The infernal seemed irritable at himself for not realizing it sooner. The amount of outside help you seem to have. A bound demon, the dantalion flameyes, I recognized the magic you imbued into that stonethe knowledge of our culture and my father.


    Is it really so inconceivable that I know him? I asked.


    Youre deflecting attention away from everything else, as if that is the most believable part, when it is not. Xarmos shook his head sadly. When my father would have you killed as a matter of course.


    I blinked. My first instinct was to defend Ralakos. I thought about the kind man who had pontificated on the nature of judgement. A man who invited me into his home and defended me at the trial. Someone who had put countless resources and, eventually, his very life on the line to defend me. That was a far cry from the Ralakos I knew.


    Xarmos softened. He is a good father. He asks for my opinion, you know. That is what Infaris has been trying to show me. Moments where I could have stayed his hand. Moments where, instead, I did nothing because I feared he might find me a coward, unwilling to do what was necessary.


    I chuckled. I understand. More than you know. At least Ralakos values your words.This chapter is updated by


    For the first time in a while, I thought of King Gil. He had been ever-present in my mind during the enclave loop, and never far from my mind even before that. I constantly feared the day he would descend upon me, and scatter my plans to ashes.


    He is not pleased with you? You are advanced for a human, and capable as an ally. You did not abandon me when things became difficult. Surely, these qualities are as valued in your culture as they are in mine.


    I considered his words, strangely appreciative of the perspective. He is a cruel, calculated man. One who cares only for power and control. But in truth, I have no idea what he would think of me now. I am different from how I was.


    You have grown.


    Yes.


    The sudden hand on my shoulder jarred me from my thoughts. Xarmoss expression was solemn. It would be blasphemous if I did not pass down the lesson I was being taught. I see the darkness in your eyes, friend Cairn. Do not lose hope. If you are indeed different from who you were before, perhaps he might see you in a new light.


    He had no way of knowing that. And from what Xarmos had previously said, he was likely projecting his hopes and experiences onto me. Still, his kindness reached me.


    Perhaps, I finally hedged, trying to move the conversation in a more comfortable direction. But Im surprised youre not asking me more questions. About the time I hail from.


    About your future.


    Xarmos shook his head and smiled. If the stories are to be believed, knowing what the future might hold only makes me likely to change it. And the enclave must be in a better place than it is now, if we are openly admitting humans into the sanctum.


    I wanted to warn him. Say something, anything. But the more I thought about it, the more unwise it seemed. I knew all too well that the past could be changed, and how muddy a situation could get as a result. There were no rules for this kind of thing, no written guidelines. And its not as if I knew the specifics of how or when Xarmos died.


    The darker side of my mind whispered that saving him might be the worst course of action. His death almost undoubtedly played a part in Ralakoss transformation from warrior to respectable diplomat and councillor. And if the ambush on the enclave never happened, if the dimension gate was never sealedif I warned them, relations would likely be even worse, and any leverage I had of bringing the infernals into the fold would crumble like ash in a winterscrest wind.


    Still, Xarmos peered at me, clearly waiting for a reaction. Looking for any hint that his words rang true. That things were better.


    I finally gave him a slow nod.


    The resulting grin spanned his entire face, his fangs glinting in the soft ambient light. He clapped his hands. Very well. Do not tell me anything, my friend Cairn. I wish to see it for myself.


    A shard of guilt tore through me. I nearly broke my silence, but Xarmos interrupted. Now, for the unpleasant part. He stared at the fountain in the center in determination. Who goes first?


    I will, I said. The idea of seeing Lillian again unsettled me on a fundamental level, but considering the circumstances, it was the least I could do.


    /////


    I hummed a bar from the Strummers Ballad and took the stairs two at a time, a decadent breakfast of eggs and sausage in hand. The lodgings were on the outskirts of Dahlreeda mid-sized city, most notable for its hard fought stranglehold on Tornwick lumber imports. Id been invited to stay in the Governors mansion, as the official purpose of this trip was to renegotiate an existing trade agreement. That itself would not be difficult, which was why King Gil allowed me to take a hand in it. My purpose here was merely one of posturing, reminding the local trade who exactly it paid its taxes to.


    The unofficial purpose was far more interesting. There was a ball in the evening, overrun with self-important lords and their simpering companions, both local and drawn from neighboring towns. It was an excellent facsimile of a social event in Whitefall, only with lower stakes and less dangerous players.


    All in all, a perfect setting for Lillians societal debut.


    Id woken up early, alone in bed, the fading cloying of last nights wine fogging my subconscious, and stumbled into the study, finding Lillian leafing through the diplomacy shorthand document Thaddeus had prepared for me beforehand. A well of pride rose in my chest.


    Well. If she was going to be that dedicated, the least I could do was fetch her breakfast.


    I entered with exaggerated swagger. Lillian was still reading. For a moment, she was serene, dark hair delightfully unkempt, a wild cascade of hair glowing almost blonde in the light of the rising sun.


    Her nose twitched.


    I watched, with no small amusement, as her head slowly turned, her dark eyes glued to the plates, leering at their contents with such lust it would make a lesser man jealous.


    You she said slowly, Are divine.


    Glad you finally caught on. I placed the plate and utensils before her with the flair of a palace servant. But the breakfast never stood a chance. There was a blur of motion as the eggs were systematically eradicated and the sausage dismantled. My amusement dimmed into concern. There was only one reason she was ever this hungry. I sat on the desk next to her, took her plate, and placed mine down in its place.


    Lillian stared at it. The dark circles around her eyes were all too obvious to me now.


    So. No sleep last night, I observed.


    Why can we never see the stars back home? She continued as if Id said nothing.


    I cant say. Perhaps distraction was the comfort she needed. Why do you think?


    Perhaps the gods did not wish it so. Whitefall is prosperousand perhaps having all that we have, along with the stars, is simply too much to ask.


    Lillian.


    I really made a mess of things.


    No.


    Theyre probably all talking about me.


    Maybe for a moment, but not anymore, thanks to Lady Crendle.


    The Vintners wife?


    See, you do remember, I said. She looked down, and I chastised myself for the mistake. Anyway, in a delicious bit of irony, Lady Crendle just caught a falling glass of red wine with her dress.


    Wasnt she wearing white?


    She was.


    The distraction earned me a small smile, before it faded.


    Im sorry, Lillian said. We both knew names are difficult for me, but this was not good.


    It was just a stumble. If Cedric hadnt been such a swine


    How many mistakes must I make, before you stop blaming others for them? Lillian whispered.


    My stomach tightened. What do you mean?


    Im not cut out for this. Maybe I never was.


    I voiced my greatest fear. Should we stop?


    She was silent then.


    If you dont want this, I understand.


    Lillian shook her head, rubbing an errant tear from her eye. I want you. Youre everything to me.


    Relief flooded me. I held her tightly, terrified that if I let her go, she might disappear. Good. Good. Then our path forward is easy.


    Lillian shifted in my arms to look up at me. How?


    We stay the course. Listen to me. I waved my arm back toward the ballroom, None of us were born to this. They are not better than you because of their breeding. I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it. They are not better than you at all. You are kind, brilliant, and wonderful. Smarter than the lot of them. All that they have that you do not, is the advantage of having lived in this world longer.


    A shadow of something flitted across her face, too fast to recognize.


    So, we stay the course.


    Yes, I smiled at her, my heart still racing in my chest. This was too early. But I could already see it in you. The queen.


    Lillian breathed slowly. If youre certain.


    With all my heart.


    /////


    I stared at the wall, counting the brick as I waited for Xarmos to return. A tirade of emotion ran through me. The tickle at the back of my mind had become a deafening roar. This whole thing was bullshit. A waste of time. Seeing her again was hard enough. But the memories differed from my own personal recollection. Some part of me wondered if the memories were altered. A larger part of me feared that they werent. That this how it always was, I just couldnt see it.


    Was I always so blind?


    Xarmos stirred, his lips pressed together, as if in a great deal of pain. I held his gaze. Eventually, he murmured, Fuck this place.


    Right there with you. I helped him up, and together we approached the next door.


    It was time to end this.

 Chapter 112: Sanctum XXXVII

    Chapter 112: Sanctum XXXVII


    Lillian haunted my thoughts. My mind sifted through all of it, looking for what I had missed. Every memory, every moment of usmemories that had once driven me, pushed me forwardexamined for cracks. And the cracks kept coming. If Xarmos hadnt realized that the beastmen had lieutenants in the back, constantly pushing them and driving them forward, Im not sure either of us would have made it.


    You cant save everyone.


    The final chamber was cold stone, the first half a flat empty plane lit with blue torches, comprised of nothing but our footsteps for company approaching a sheer wall with a slight incline. It was somehow worse than climbing the mountain. The hand and footholds were barely large enough to grab, spaced far enough apart that every move forward strained and challenged the muscles. During my first attempt I called on the air to lighten myself, but even with my additional stores from the sanctum and the potion Id crafted, I eventually ran out.


    I slid down the wall, trying to avoid the jutting hand holds, picking up speed until I hit the ground hard enough that my knees jutted into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me.


    I crumpled, struggling for breath. Dammit. I was still so weak. Too weak.


    If youre certain.


    Stupid. I was stupid, and overconfident, and foolish. How could I have been certain about anything back then? Hells, how could I be certain of anything now? The Everwood, where Id first committed to the idea of uniting Uskar against Thoth, felt worlds away. The over-arching goal was the same. I wanted to save my family. But more than anything else, I wanted to save Lillian. It felt so delusional now, trying to save someone who who


    I thought to my friends. The ones who had taken me this far. Could they even make it through something this brutal? This cruel? Had I killed them too?


    Why was I doing this?


    There was a shuffling noise on the wall above and to the right of me. A body appeared as Xarmos landed from his slide with a grunt. He was saying something, my name, I think, but I was too exhausted, too deprived of air to hear him. Xarmos put my arm over his shoulder and strained, hoisting me upright.


    Come on, friend Cairn. Youre not done yet.


    You should have kept going, I wheezed out.


    Stop trying to talk. Xarmos flicked my forehead. Then he opened my satchel and began to root through it. What was he doing?


    My confusion was answered when he unrolled my apothecary bag.


    I was beginning to suspect that who the trial put together was not nearly as simple as Xarmos believed. It was likely true that the person I was fighting with was truly Ralakoss son, pulled from another time, decades before my birth. He was simply too realand for that matter, too helpful to be some sort of malevolent construct in this place. But it tied in too cleanly with the lesson the Black Beast intended to teach me. As much I wanted to save my mentors son, as much as I liked him on his own merits, there was nothing I could do for him without sabotaging myself.


    What a hero.


    Poison, poison, paralytic, more poisons. You really do have a theme. OhI found the nice potions. Stamina, two of those, One for both of us as Im going to help myself if you dont mind.


    I tried to say yes, then changed my mind and nodded.


    Potion of expansion? Xarmoss eyebrow shot up as he held the spare potion that I had brewed, its amber liquid a dark green in the light. The ingredients are a schlackfei to find. Very nice. He had been practically tossing things aside, but the potion of expansion he cradled with both hands, placing it back in its pocket within the roll. More poisonahah! Xarmos dug his long black nails into the cork and popped the potion open, then shuffled to me, tipping the contents into my mouth. I nearly choked on it, recognizing the briny, unpleasant taste of iron-lung.


    It took a while, but eventually, my breathing returned to me. I rested my head back against the wall, my body slowly relaxing from the seizing panic.


    Ready? Xarmos asked.


    My hands moved on their own, tried to push me up. But my body surrendered halfway through.


    Theres no rush. Rest a bit.


    He didnt have to tell me. Images flickered in front of my face, one after another.


    Barion, wreathed in shadow, driving his rapier into my heart.


    Kastramoth, and his terrible teeth.


    The demons. Ozra.


    The most logical, rational decision was to do nothing.


    And yet.


    Wasnt that exactly the kind of thinking that got us here? The kind of thinking that led the metamorphosis council to put the world in an endless loop of madness and misery? My mother would say that darkness only begets darkness. My father would insist that the darkness was necessary.


    I had decided not so long ago that neither of them were wrong. There were no easy answers, no simple solutions. The road ahead was difficult, and I was certain I would have to do many things that would make my stomach churn.


    The world was already so shrouded in shadow, wrought with cruelty and betrayal. And it would grow darker still.


    Didnt that make it even more important to be kind?


    I made the decision and committed to it before I could second-guess myself.


    Xarmos?


    The man turned, and he effortlessly raised one hand to catch the bottle I tossed to him. He stared at it, shocked. Then held it out and wiggled it at me. You jest.


    My sense of humor is poor, not destitute.


    What would you have done if I dropped it?


    Felt particularly daft. I rubbed the back of my neck. But I knew you wouldnt.


    Could your companions not use this?


    There was enough for all of us.


    And you are giving me the spare, He stated, as if not entirely believing it, aware what it is worth.


    I shrugged. Theres hardly time for me to return to the heart on a merchants run. Thus, I have no one to sell it to before it expires, and no use for the gold even if I did.


    Perhaps that is true. But you could leverage this to certain elders within the sanctum for the sorts of secrets they would never trade to the richest scion.


    His reticence was exasperating, but was precisely the sort of thing Id expect from him.


    Are you typically in the habit of beating a gift horse?


    Xarmos laughed. I take your meaning, despite the mixed metaphor. He bowed deeply to me. I am sorry.


    Xarmos-


    It is terribly improper to ask for a favor after one has been given a gift, but I must ask it, His voice was full of dread. I know you are hiding things. The way you look at methe guilt in your eye. The fact alone that you are familiar with my family and did not know me it does not bode well. That is fine. My path is my path, my future, my future. But. My father. The Ralakos you know Xarmos struggled, his mouth working, constantly rephrasing a silent question before he finally raised his head and spoke. Is he a good man?


    I smiled. Of anything he might have asked, this had the clearest, most definitive answer. The best I know.


    Visible relief flooded Xarmos, and he put a hand to his temple. Thank you, friend.


    May your path be clear, Xarmos, I said, despite knowing it wouldnt.


    Using both hands to shove open the Xescalt doors, I entered the chamber of Infaris.


    /////

 Chapter 113: Sanctum XXXIIX

    Chapter 113: Sanctum XXXIIX


    The chamber was hexagonal. Its floor comprised a thin glass-like surface, and beyond its transparency was endless darkness below. I recognized it immediately as the void that I had returned to, so many times. The walls were painted in a vibrant collage of crimson, violet, and indigo. Depictions of horned figures on either side started as cave drawings, almost too rudimentary to recognize as infernal, then grew in complexity until they were as magnificent as the highest art. Various tableaus from history were depicted in chronological order, from the birth of the first infernal, to the awakening of the demon-flame.


    Just as in the vision, a vibrant blue ball of light hung above, reflected in the tranquil sitting pool.


    I gave a cautious bow, never taking my eyes from the light.


    How many centuries has it been since you first sought my council, child? The voice boomed. I fell to my knees, my entire body trembling. It wasnt that she was loud. Not exactly. More that her voice poured through everything. It filled up the room, tore through my mind, my thoughts, everything fading away but the voice itself. I found myself unable to lift my head.


    It took a while to find my voice. I beseech you. Goddess Infaris. Are my companions safe?


    They are enduring their own trials. Their fates are yet to be seen.


    That wasnt ideal, but was better than some alternatives.


    Please let me pass.


    This is all you ask of the divine? Safe passage? Not supplication? Not even a boon or a favor? The impact of her voice had not lessened. But through the distraction and discomfort, I found myself able to process her voice better, bit by bit. And it was subtle, but she sounded almost disappointed.


    I shook my head, my vision blurry. My people have wronged yours, time and time again. To ask a boon would be hubris.


    Let us dispense of this game, Cairn, son of Gil. Once, the crimes of your people would have mattered to me. The divine does not forgive nearly as easily as the mortal. But time dulls all ire. And I know as well as you that your very presence here before me is the result of a much more dire hubris. One put into play by a mixture of gods and mortals, both acting far above their station.


    Was she talking about the metamorphosis society? The time loop? There was no way of knowing, and I couldnt exactly ask. This was a goddess. And if even a fraction of what was said regarding the divine in the myths and stories were true, saying the wrong thing could have dire consequences that went far beyond death. But still, this was a unique, possibly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I needed a way to ask for more information without tipping my hand.


    But what?


    Something she said earlier finally clicked into place, giving me my answer. I worded the question carefully, avoiding any semblance of doubt or accusation. If I may ask, Goddess Infaris. When you said I had come to you for council, what did you mean? Had I spoken to any of the divine, let alone one as significant as you, it is strange I hold no memory of it.


    There was a swelling of light in the room, and for a moment, I was terrified. It was followed by a merry tinkling noise, like a pair of tiny mallets striking the high-pitched end of a tone board.


    The goddess was laughing.


    An attempt at flattery? In this form?


    I could see her point. She was, for all intents and purposes, a ball of light. An all-powerful, terrifying ball of light, but a ball of light just the same.


    I have found that flattery and truth are not always mutually exclusive, Goddess Infaris.


    Enough pageantry. Infaris commanded. I will not question which of the divine you are referring to if while we are conferring in my domain.


    It sounded like an invitation to call her by name. The way I might tell a companion to stop calling me prince. But there was a trap in it, one I wasnt willing to step into without further clarification. I went with the safer option.


    Goddess, then?


    That is acceptable. Infaris replied. The audible disappointment told me I had chosen correctly. We have met before. Many times. And you have always failed to see.


    My skin prickled at the back of my neck. I knew better than to ask why. It would have been best to remain silent. But I had to ask. I had to know how difficult the task before me was.


    The other gods. The rest of the pantheon. Are they aware of the hubris of the metamor


    DO NOT SPEAK THEIR NAME.


    There was a wetness on lip as I stared down into the pool, my whole body trembling, a stream of blood trailing down from my nose to my lip, hanging there until they fell into the pool creating ripples, dissipating and tinting the water below. This time, I stayed silent.


    When Infaris spoke again, she sounded exhausted. The light of the chamber dimmed. We all knew, at one point or another. Magic of that scale does not escape the notice of the divine. But our power was not what it once was. That is the natural order of things. As the world weakened in its death throes, the gods weakened as well.


    Ragnarock. I realized.


    Yes. There was a time of turmoil and in-fighting, the likes of which have not been seen since the most ancient of days. But eventually, we realized, nothing could be done. We cannot die. But some of my brethren spread their essence so thinly that they can no longer think, or function. Most who did not are lost to madness. A handful of us are still here, still holding to the duties we swore to uphold.


    I noted the pride in Infariss voice.


    Before I could put together how to respond, she continued. Allow me to clarify the situation. It is not lost on me what you intend, nor why. I have seen it many times. Since your first vision, you have been looking for a way to escape this place, rather than accept the truth you run from. In that small way, you are not so different from the one you seek.


    That caught my attention. Thoth underwent the trial?


    Oh yes. I have not bothered with the lynchpin in quite some time. But perhaps because you were here, I decided to test her. In the end, she did give me a beautiful truth. But it was not exquisite. It was not pure.


    Why do this? Why conduct these tests, when you already know what the answer will be?


    Because the satisfaction is not in knowing. It is in understanding. And I am curious by nature. You are so very, very different than the last time we spoke. You have shown compassion, despite enduring true suffering. You traded your soul to save the lives of others you barely knew. Furthermore, you fight against your own darkness, despite knowing, inevitably, there will be a day when you cant. And I wonder if, perhaps, this will finally be the time that you succeed.This chapter is updated by


    Infaris had me. She had, either knowingly or unknowingly, given me the one breadcrumb I needed to stop trying to find a way out of this. Infaris knew Thoth as well as she claimed to know meand more importantly, knew what she feared. You couldnt put a price on how valuable that was.


    What is your truth, prince?


    You must enjoy it. Sticking around, playing the same game for centuries after your friends all killed themselves.


    You dare


    Do you fucking enjoy this? I screamed. My sword came out of its sheath, igniting, singing the fabric of my tabard. Breaking people down to their most bare, soiling what little they have, eroding their minds and their psyche until all thats left is a broken shell. No wonder the infernals need a human child to open the gates for them when they worship a god as wretched as you.


    I will give you a moment to collect yourself! Infaris said sternly.


    My entire body vibrated with rage. If there had been the slightest push, the slightest provocation, I would have attacked heras stupid and pointless as that might have been. I would have tried to kill a god. It occurred to me, somewhere in the back of my mind where I could still think, that the only reason she hadnt ended me was this sort of volatile reaction was common. Perhaps someone like Xarmos might have fared better.


    But someone like me? No. Infaris had seen this before. She wasnt surprised or impressed by it. Instead, she hovered there silently, waiting.


    It is not his fault he can see me for what I am.


    My sword clattered to the floor.


    Perhaps having all that we have, along with the stars, is simply too much to ask


    Tears blurred my vision.


    I want you. Youre everything to me.


    I fell to my knees.


    We could just leave.


    What is your truth? Infaris prompted.


    I was so angry, after she died. I said, struggling to get the words out. Angry at my father. At Thaddeus. At everyone who was involved and said nothing. So angry I was willing to throw away everything for vengeance. The rasp in my voice was more pronounced. I was so full of myself. Thought I was so enlightened, so elevated, choosing her as queen. And sure, she seemed uncertain at times. But I decided I would be there for her, in a way my father never was for my mother, that I would support her and assuage her worries.


    What is your truth?


    The truth is, regardless of my ignorance, I used her love for me to manipulate her into a life she never wanted. Lillian never wanted to be queen. She played along because she loved me, but on that last day, before the Kings men came to take her I saw her despair. Because she realized that I would never listen. I was so caught up in the fantasy of what she could be I choked, that I didnt realize I did the same thing to her that my father did to me.


    The orb began to shift, reshape into something vaguely humanoid.


    I killed her. I croaked.


    No. A hand touched my shoulder. Infaris had taken the shape of a simple red infernal with long, curled horns. Her light eyes looked down at me kindly. You have brought me an exquisite truth. Do not sully it now. You might have played a part in the girls downfall, but the responsibility for her ultimate fate was not yours to bear.


    I rubbed my eyes. What does a goddess care for the foolish missteps of a past life.


    Because it is, perhaps the most straightforward example of your greatest weakness. Infaris smiled. And I have seen it, time and time again. You fear the loneliness, the solitude of responsibility. You assume that those you hold dearest carry the same potential within themselves that you do. And some of them simply do not.


    Isnt that just being a good person? Helping those important to me? I tried to argue.


    Not when you are attempting to force their fates to align with your own.


    So, what is the alternative? I asked helplessly. I cant do this alone. The enemy is too powerful.


    Infaris chuckled mysteriously. There will be those you must manipulate. The nations of mortals do not align from kind words. But those you love? You must allow them a choice. A real choice. And you must listen when they answer. The allies that remain will be ones you can truly count on.


    As much as I hated to admit it, I understood what Infaris meant. All I had to do was look to Jorra. He had been unsure about this venture from the beginning, and Id repeatedly ignored his concerns and his fears, writing it off as immature nagging. The only choice Id truly given him was before the trial, when the only options were moving forward or abandoning me.


    The others well. It was too much to think about now.


    Well. This has been an event. You finally succeeded. Your first boon is one of knowledge


    Everything and anything you can tell me about my enemy, I said immediately. When Infaris scowled, I quickly added, If that is possible, goddess.


    It is not. There are restrictions at play from stronger gods than I. But as the lynchpin technically failed the trial, I believe allowing you to see what she saw falls within the scope of what is allowed.


    Goddess Infaris touched my forehead, and my perspective shifted.


    /////


    It was a few confusing seconds before I recognized the location as Castle Whitefall. A long, graceful gate propelled us down the hallway towards my fathers rooms. A chill went through me as I watched Thoths hand reach out and swing the door open.


    I watched an older version of myselfolder than Id ever been, whirl to face the door, a hand on his sword. He relaxed, then spoke. The sound was squelched, inaudible, but I could read the words on his lips.


    What took you?

 Chapter 114: Sanctum XXXIX

    Chapter 114: Sanctum XXXIX


    What was this? Where was the fear, the hostility? The moment Id recognized where they were, Id expected something explosive to happen, but this is almost cordial.


    Cairn waved for her to follow and strode over towards the sitting room. There were a dozen people arranged on couches, milling about, leaning over a center table that housed a map adorned with countless markers and flags. They were all armored, armed, and exhausted. A few of them I recognized: Maya was there talking with Ralakos, xescalt staff broken in two at her side. Though she was older, she looked more like Nethtari than the demon that had helped Thoth burn my home. My sister Annette was fiddling with the tokens on the map. It warmed me to see her alive and well. Her blonde hair had grown long and straight, and makeup adorned her face, though she was still nearly as short in stature as shed always been. Annette seemed to be explaining the positioning of the tokens to a little girl who looked on in stark interest.


    I gawked. I knew that girl. Her hair was different, a light red, and her eyes were a dull gray, but I knew her. It was the same girl who directed me towards Persephone when I was investigating the demons. The same girl who encouraged me outside the enclave, though that second time I assumed she was a hallucination.


    There were a dozen elves of all different varieties that I had no memory of. There was an uncomfortable air about them, as they intermixed, and moved like liquid silk, but none of the blatant hostility I understood was common. I spotted Cephur, though I didnt see Tamara. The lines on the rangers face had multiplied, making them look almost elderly as he leaned forward on his stool, muttering as he observed the map. Not everyone was so focused, though. There was a pixie zipping around the heads of several lizard men, who snapped at her in irritation. A musclebound female elf with a stocky frame and a dwarf were arm wrestling in the back of the room.


    My view panned towards the ceiling as Thoth rolled her neck, and I braced myself. Considering the makeup of the room, and that I, my sister, and Ralakos were present, I could only assume that this was a gathering of power to plan for a coming conflict.


    Thoth had mentioned she had done this sort of thing many times before, in many different ways. I felt a twinge of anxiety as I waited for the slaughter to start.


    But it didnt.


    The room quieted as Cairn approached. There was mounting tension as they took in the new arrivals. I realized slowly, with no small amount of surprise, that it was not fear that quieted them, but respect. They were looking to both of them, Thoth and Cairn, for answers. I watched as Cairn launched into his speech, complete with my signature pacing and gestures.


    I winced. Did I really gesticulate that much? At certain points it looked like he was trying to fly.


    There was a round of nods and murmurs of approval, and Cairn waved Thoth over. This was it. She was just biding her time, waiting for the perfect moment, and now she would strike.


    Cairn walked over to one of the couches and lifted the tiny redheaded girl in his arms, swinging her in an exaggerated circle before popping her on his lap. The action looked practiced and casual, like hed done it countless times before. It was almost familial.


    A daughter? My daughter?


    But Id seen her before. In this life. How was that even possible? My stomach twisted. I wanted to reach out and touch her.


    My confusion was magnified when Thoth did not draw her daggers. Instead, she walked to Cephur and gently patted the man on the back, asking him to move. Then I watched, flabbergasted, as the person I knew only as a villain, began to give a briefing. It was like watching the water flow upstream. My mind bent back on itself, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. I kept waiting, expecting the turn to come, but it never did. At one point, Thoth paused, looked up from the map, and everyone was laughing. I realized that she had made a joke. Thoth, the harbinger of darkness, the cruel, ever-present shadow in my dreams, made a joke during a briefing to me, to my friends, and they were laughing.


    I tried to study the map, to distract myself. It was impossible to decipher everything, but I could put a few things together. There were shaded red sections around the corners of the map, and places where that red had begun to encroach inward. The red stemmed from a few, ventricle like lines that covered Uskar proper and beyond.


    Leylines. The red is the corruption. Were preparing for Ragnark.


    The briefing ended, and my heart froze in my chest as Annette crossed the room to Thoth. They studied each other for a moment, and then a rare grin broke out on Annettes face, and she went in for a hug. Thoth embraced her in return, the long black nails of her fingers stroking through my sisters hair.


    The horror of it began to finally sink in. Thoth wasnt faking it.


    She was an ally.


    A white-hot rage knifed through me more assuredly than any blade. At some point in the last thousand years, Thoth knew us. We were comrades, maybe even friends. And when she slaughtered us, she laughed.


    The anger wouldnt help me. I could feel it clawing at my mind, slanting my perspective. But this was too personal, too close.


    The scene shifted, to Thoth, on her knees in the chamber of Infaris. She struggled to her feet. Her muscles bulged under the tight leathers, her body straining, her aura streaming outward, painting the room black.


    Ive taken your trial. Now let me be on my way, before I change my mind and kill you again. There was a quiver in her voice.


    What is your truth? Even Infaris sounded uncertain.


    I will bear this indignity no longer! Thoth shouted. She held out her arm, and her hand glowed green. Infariss etherial form began to dim and compress.


    Foolish. Do you not need your strength for what comes next?


    Perhaps. But I can do this again, and again, and again. Thoth strained as her fingers began to tighten, curling inward. And you have meddled for far too long. Perhaps I will dedicate this recurrence to you, minor deity. Do you remember the last time I did so?


    That didnt sound good. You had visions?


    Yep. Bellarexs smile faltered, just for a moment. I dont know how you can stomach it. Seeing those sorts of things all the time.


    I glanced down at her belt, where an additional silver scabbard adorned her hip. But my worry for the others overwrote my curiosity towards her boon.


    Catch up with you in a bit. I hurried to the next room where I found Jorra, supine, staring up at the ceiling. My heart seized until I saw him draw a shallow breath and breath it out.


    Jorra. I held out a hand. He didnt take it. His expression was far, far away.


    Im the last one, Cairn.


    The last what, Jorra?


    Maya was always better than me. Stronger than me, able to heal. And I was just another water mage like mom. His voice was monotone. Dad told me that was fine. That theres nothing wrong with being ordinary, that Id find my own strength, that comparing myself to someone else would only bring me misery.


    Wise words.


    He meant them well, but I used it as an excuse to stagnate.


    Bullshit. You work hard, Jorra, Ive seen it.


    I dont push myself the way you do.


    No one should.


    And Ive watched you get better, and stronger, like its easyonly I know thats not true because I know youve worked for it. But I started to feel relieved when you stopped showing up for dinner. Because I didnt have to worry if some human was suddenly my parents favorite. I started to hate you. Because I just wanted to be ordinary and not feel bad about it. His voice broke. The words felt like a slap. Id wondered along those lines, but never expected something so severe.


    Im sorry Jorra. I didnt listen to you. Youve been trying to tell me for a while, but I didnt listen. My back ached as I sat beside him. I felt that if I didnt stand soon, I never would.


    And here, in the sanctum? I felt guilty. Every time I thought about leaving, going back to the heart. Like, Im not that strong. Im not particularly clever, or brave. But what if its the one time he needs me, and Im not there.


    I finally understood. So you asked Infaris what would happen if you did nothing.


    His eyes widened as he stared at the ceiling, the outlines of his pupils darting back and forth. The sky breaks open. Fractures across dimensions. You all die, Cairn. All of you. There were so many bodies at the end I had to walk on them. Ribs cracked under my feet. I looked for hours, but I eventually found what I was looking for. You, Maya, Bell, Mom and Dad


    It felt as if he might break, and I grabbed his hand, repeating the words that had once been said to me. Let the dead flow by you like a river, lest you be drowned by them.


    Jorra nodded, closing his eyes and opening them again. I cant be this anymore.


    Thats not on you, I shook my head. If everything falls to pieces, if we lose thats not on you. Its Ragnark, Jorra.


    His face hardened. Maybe it is, maybe its not. But all I know is if the worlds ending, I want to fight. Win or lose. Im done stagnating. And I have a lot of catching up to do. The last was said with such vehemence I let go of his hand. He stood, without my prompting, and returned to the hall.


    Bell and Jorra conferred quietly as I walked past them, my heart wrenching with worry. Im not sure why, or how I knew. Maya was the strongest of us. I should have expected her to be fine, to be alright.


    But somehow, I knew she wasnt.


    When I opened the final chamber, a plume of smoke escaped. My lungs seized, and I coughed violently, the chemical scent and rancid odor of scorched stone. The chamber was ridden with demon fire.


    Maya was crumpled in the corner, staring back at me.


    Leave me. She sobbed.

 Chapter 115: Sanctum XXXX

    Chapter 115: Sanctum XXXX


    They were so different from the kind folk Id come to know and love. It was simple duality, the same as us. There were good humans, and bad. But Maya had never seen them at their worst.


    I took a step forward.


    Get back! Maya shouted, summoning violet mana in her hand, cutting a gash of demon-fire between us.


    You awakened. It was possible. Our souls were intertwined, and while Id hoped that would give me her light magic, she received my fire instead. I stared, stunned. Maya stared back, her face twisting in pain, before she buried her face in her hands.


    Im a monster.


    I tried to control her flames, to draw them into myself, but the effect was like trying to pull molasses through a straw. It wasnt going to happen.


    Let me through!


    No.


    Maya!


    How could you ever love me! Maya shouted, voice warped with agony. Why would you say it? Why, Cairn? Why would you say that to me?


    My heart broke when I realized the only vision that could have triggered this volatile of a reaction, and I cursed Infaris. Either as part of her trial, or as her boon, the Goddess had shown her the one thing I wanted to hide.


    The sacking of Whitefall.


    Talk to me, Maya!


    Her eyes were dead, whites flickering with violet reflections. The fire itself wouldnt hurt her. The smoke would. You begged. You begged for me to stop. And I killed her.


    You were under Thoths influence! I tried, waiting for a gap in the fire, looking for anyway through.


    Infaris put me in my own mind, that night. It was me, Nilend. A version of myself that was angry, and vengeful, and full of spite, but it was me just the same. She began a laugh that was half-cackle, half-sob. Do you think I torment children in all my lives? Is that just who I am?


    There. I saw an opening in the fire and dove through it, landing hard on my shoulder. My back twinged with the effort, and I wobbled on my feet.


    Im not leaving without you.


    If youre playing me, if you altered your thoughts somehow for some bigger game, some grander manipulation, thatthat I understand. But why would you join our souls? Why tell me you loved me?


    I stepped toward her carefully, avoiding an overturned icon. Because I do.


    No. No, no no Nilend please, just this once, be honest with me.


    I stood over her finally, struggling to breathe, and reached out a hand. Maya shied away.


    Okay. I crouched in front of her as the fire grew around us. Ill be honest. Thats the theme of this place, after all, isnt it? Truth? So, fine. The person that I met? The person who hurt my family? I waved a hand helplessly. Yes, you terrified me. And when we first met in the Everwood, you saw that. It wasnt subtle. I hated you and I wanted revenge.


    Maya looked down. I caught her chin and tilted her head up. She looked so lost. What Ive learned from my curse my gift is that theres no point in anything if we cant move forward. If we cant try to fix things for the better. Youre not a monster. We are what we choose to be, at any given moment. And we have to keep making that choice. And who you chose to be, who youre choosing to be, is beautiful. And thats the person I fell in love with, Nilend.


    Is that really how you feel? Maya asked.


    I leaned in to kiss her. There was a flood of emotion Id been holding back for so long, keeping in check. She met my lips with hers, and wrapped her arms round my neck, clinging to me. The surrounding flames began to fade, the heat dissipating, until all that was left of the fire was char.


    I know I made you a vow, Maya whispered into my neck, But I dont know if I can do what I promised. We can find another healer for your mother, I swear it. But it might be safer for everyone if I stayed in the sanctum and joined the elders.


    Permanently? I blinked. Why?


    Because I will doubt myself constantly. I will wonder if I am becoming the version of myself that wounded you so deeply. And we both know well enough that a moment of doubt on the battlefield can cost everything.


    The air here was dead. That was the only way I could think of describing it. Hostile as it tended to be, everywhere else in the sanctum was teeming with magic and life. This was the opposite. The others seemed to sense it as well, and drew in tighter. The gravel mixed with dirt crunched under our feet as we made our way up the winding path.


    My heart hammered. I expected her to be behind every corner, positioned behind every ruined structure, lying in wait. I told myself that made no sense, that Thoth had come here for a reason, that we were still wearing the rings, and that there was no reason she would know we were coming. It made no difference. Fear, cold and awful, seized me.


    I hand slipped into mine, and I almost jumped. Maya smiled up at me, the expression strained, clearly anxious and embarrassed, but comforting just the same.


    It lasted only for a moment.


    We reached the final structure. The ornate, Gothic stone building that served as the first infernals resting place. It had a weathered with age, but everything with the same as it was in Morthuss vision.


    Everything but the black gate itself. The massive, dark metal doors that Morthus had insisted so emphatically must remain shut, had been wrenched off their hinges and tossed to the side. It served as a final confirmation of what I already knew. Thoth was here. And we couldnt afford to wait anymore.


    Do we have a plan? Jorra asked. His eyes never left the gaping darkness of the crypt entrance.


    Wed taken stock. The boons wed received from in Infaris were invaluable. Jorra had received an aquamarine jewel that allowed him a much stronger, direct control of water. It also stored a vast quantity of water, equal to that of a small ocean, so even if he were in a situation like back in the desert, where even the air devoid of moisture, he would still be able to cast just as effectively.


    Bell''s sword, a beautiful curved silver blade with a golden hilt, gave her the ability to actively unravel even the most volatile spells.


    Both infinitely useful. Neither the key piece we needed.


    I had something, I shook my head, thinking of the glass bead that I used to summon the prime evil. But I had to use it in the trial.


    If I can get close enough, maybe I can void out whatever it is shes casting. Bell said.


    Its the getting close part thats going to be a problem, Maya replied.


    Ive only seen her fight up close, I admitted, then thought about it. Actually, I think she prefers that. Ive never seen her engage at range. Shes incredibly fast, likes her knives, and enjoys causing pain. I saw her toy with a man three times your size for quite some time, then take him apart in seconds.


    Okay. Bell shivered. Getting in close would be a mistake.


    Voiding her is still a good idea, just from range, with one of your throwing weights. For the record, I said, looking at all of them, were only discussing this as a worst-case scenario. Direct confrontation might as well be a death sentence.


    Vogrin rubbed his chin. The sadism may help us. She has ranged abilities. Thats not even a question. But I know the type. She wont fall back on them until she has to, and will want to devote a certain amount of time to each of you before the bodies start dropping. However, that becomes a moot point the moment she feels threatened.


    Could we even manage that? The hopelessness burned like acid in my gut. There was a terrible mental image of Thoth, killing my friends, one by one. Making me watch. It was precisely the sort of thing she would do.


    So, we get in there, find out what shes doing. I rubbed my hands together, my mouth tight. If it looks like something that can wait, we disengage, come back here. If the leyline is at risk, Ill use my boon to weaken her magic, we distract her, and run like hell.


    Bell raised her hand. I volunteer as distraction. Im fast, and with the void state, I am almost invisible.


    Bell, no. Jorra walked over to her and said something quietly.


    Bell ignored him and shook her head. Im the best choice for that. It makes sense.


    I sighed. Jorra, I get it, but Im with Bell on this. With that new gem, you can support her in a way she cant support you if you took her place.


    For a moment, some of the old rebellious fire returned to Jorras face, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. Okay.


    Just as a quick reminder to each of you, Maya said, we are talking about fighting an arch mage. If you sustain any injury, no matter how minor it might appear, come to me if you are able.


    The light magician is correct. Vogrin agreed. Severity of damage is difficult to self-diagnose at the best of times, and you will be fighting in the dark, against someone capable of doing far more complex and harmful things than a direct elemental spell.


    I kept searching, for something, for anything. Any strategy I mightve missed, any piece of information that in Infaris might have slipped me. But there was nothing. We were up against it now.


    I passed out portions of haste, regeneration, and iron lung.


    Then, Vogrin went in to scout, and we followed behind him.

 Chapter 116: Sanctum XLI

    Chapter 116: Sanctum XLI


    The scent of blood and mildew hung heavy in the air. I held a small spark of violet flame in my hand, keeping it covered, trying to manage the light, so it only illuminated our immediate surroundings. My heart had been racing just minutes ago on our approach to the crypt, but now that we were inside, it was slow, and steady. I wore my anger like a wreath, allowing the umbra to erode and degrade any emotions that were no longer useful. Thoth was my enemy. My greatest foe. There was no need for moralizing, for consideration. The only thing I had to consider was the lives of those who followed me.


    Rows of mummified bodies lined the long wide halls, their outlines barely visible in the gloom, a grim reminder of how easy it would be for my friends to join them. A grim reminder that I had no final resting place. If I failed here, the black beasts point would be made, and I would be forced to relive that hopeless battle over, and over, and over again.


    Vogrin returned with a hiss and a shimmer. I couldnt make out his expression, but he sounded disturbed. Nothing on this floor either.


    Nothing? I whispered back. Wed been making her way downwards for hours. According to Morthus, this place should have been teeming with corrupted monsters.


    There are signs of some sort of disturbance, large sections of broken rock and footprints, but nothing living, Vogrin said.


    I didnt like that.


    Maybe she already left? Maya called from behind us in a low voice.


    It was possible. There was no way of knowing how much time we actually spent in the trials. But the dull ringing in my ears had grown from the smallest whisper into something I was confident was there. No, Thoth was here. The air around Vogrin shimmered, and he faded into the surroundings, departing once more.


    An hour passed. The scent of blood grew so thick it was like breathing iron, mixed with something rancid, something wrong.


    What is that? Jorra gagged.


    The question was answered when Vogrin reappeared. He didnt speak, instead waving us towards a connected room. It had the look of a grand hall, complete with carpet and an overturned sculpture in the center.


    An odd addition to a crypt, I said.


    Not necessarily, Bell corrected. Theres an altar there, and see this half-circle? She pointed to a section of floor next to the altar, marked with half-circle bands of dark stones. There would have been pillows here once, for the devout to pray.


    This is a temple? Jorra suddenly removed his hand from the altar.


    Was, perhaps, in simpler times. Bells look of awe faded somewhat.


    Fascinating, Vogrin said in a voice that implied the opposite, but what I meant to direct you to is over there.


    I held my hand higher and nearly jumped. There was a collective gasp behind me. Two massive beings, humanoid and massive, laid in a heap behind us. Theyd been butchered and were covered in burns and cuts. I drew my sword, and leaned down to inspect them further. They were massive, like the giants of old, wearing simple tabards. But red angry looking corruption covered their hands, making it look as if theyd been flayed, large black talons extending from their fingertips.


    Just like the mercenaries. Mayas hand glowed green as she bent down to analyze the bodies. I am not familiar with ogre physiology, but I would hazard a guess based on what Im seeing that their organs are all wrong too. They are not in the right place, and there are Extras? Maya turned her head to me. Why would Thoth corrupt them only to kill them?


    I dont think she corrupted them. More than likely, these were corrupted by the leyline itself. But that left the question of why she killed them. If Infaris was right, and Thoth needed to save her strength for what she had planned, wouldnt it be more effective to simply avoid them, and let them out into the sanctum proper?


    Thoth struck me as many things, but stupid wasnt one of them. She had a reason. Always.


    The further we descended, the more bodies we found. The initial kills were clean, executed with brutal efficiency. But the more we found, the sloppier they seemed. A scaled red dragon laid decapitated, one of its heads cut clean off, the other hacked at until it bled out from its neck.


    Shes getting tired. My blood ran hot, anticipation slowly replacing my fear. What if this was it? The ideal moment. What if I could live out the rest of my life and prepare for Ragnark without this twisted psychopath biting at my heels? It was so unlikely, so hard to picture. A small feeling of elation crept into my chest beneath the simmering bloodlust, so rare and foreign I almost didnt recognize it:


    Hope.


    The ringing in my ears grew into a roaring crescendo. We were close. So very close now.


    Found the leyline. Vogrin hissed in my ear. The fear in his voice was gone. He was looking at the same signs I was, and drawing the same conclusions. Shes at the leyline. Through here.


    We followed him through a gaping hole in the bottom floor, torn open by claws or something similar, the chiseled stone giving away to granite and dirt, a rickety ladder the only way down.


    Seras knife, sinking deep into my gut.


    My sisters flesh bubbled as I ran across the snow-frozen grass.


    My father, struck down like a dog, gurgling on the floor.


    Dead eyes.


    Fire burning, fuzing everything together.


    Laughter


    Thoth laughed.


    SHE KNEW US AND SHE LAUGHED.


    I could feel it. The way my broken sword would plunge into her neck, severing veins, tendons. How she would fall backward, choking on her own blood. The realization that after thousands of years and unlimited power, she had died to me, the one she held in such contempt. The delight, the wonderful, singing delight as the light left her eyes and she plunged darker, darker, and darker still, until there was nothing, and the lynchpin was sundered, and


    Someone touched my shoulder. I reached behind me blindly, grabbing someones arm and slamming them up against the pillar, my knife to their neck.


    Maya grappled against me, holding my wrist, staring straight into my eyes, lips tight together to avoid making a sound. The screaming started again, as Thoth plunged her arms back into the mana. Her voice was raw and hoarse. Pathetic.


    Maya held a single finger to her eye, then pointed at the reservoir beside us. Finding myself again, my body still vibrating with rage, I held the dagger down at my side and followed her finger.


    The mana had raised in color again, from yellow to a sickly green.


    It doesnt matter.


    Thoth was here. She was weak. I might never get this opportunity again.


    Kill her. Vogrin urged.


    Maya gripped my arm, pointing again. The darkness hounded me, demanding vengeance, demanding blood. I heard Morthuss voice, resonating in the back of my head.


    The only way to save yourself from the darkness is to ask questions.


    Why?


    Why was the quality of the leyline improving?


    It wasnt coincidental. Couldnt possibly be.


    Why was Thoth removing the corruption?


    A million thoughts went through my mind, hundreds of pieces colliding, fitting together, rearranging. The hint that Infaris had given me, though I hadnt recognized it as such at the time. Slowly, a working theory began to form in my mind. There were plenty of holes, but it was enough to start.


    I gave Maya a single nod, then stepped out into the open around the side of the pillar. Thoth had collapsed into a heap, moaning quietly. Her hands were crimson, the skin, and muscle around her arms decimated, showing clear sections of bone.


    Cairn, Thoth hissed, holding out her ruined hands for me to see. This is not a good time.


    Every neuron, every nerve in my body shuddered at the sound of her voice.


    On the contrary, I said. Now seems like the perfect time.

 Chapter 117: Sanctum XLII

    Chapter 117: Sanctum XLII


    Thoth was stuck.


    A poignant silence grew between us. I could feel Thoths anger, her rage crackling, the glowing yellow of her snakelike eye pulsing. You will give me an explanation, Thoth finally said.


    My eyebrow shot up. Not sure that I owe you anything.


    More than you could ever possibly repay.


    I dont even know who you are. The statement was a gambit. It was true that up to this point, Thoth had some level of fixation on me. The question was how much. Manipulation of nations and world events was busy work. Id referred to her by name more than a handful of times, but perhaps she hadnt had time to observe me all that closely.


    Thoth smiled wide. But the smile lacked her usually spiteful glee. Nice try. But no. Someone, at some point, fucked up somewhere along the line. Thats the only reason youre here. You know me. Say it.


    Your name?


    Yes.


    Im not going to do that.


    Because you fear me.


    I continued, taking back control of the conversation. Because I doubt thats really who you are. I did some research, amongst the infernals. Runic gods arent particularly well known. Styling yourself after the god of reckoning? No. Its too on the nose, too intentional.


    She ignored the comment. And what of Ghast?


    The man in the cowl?


    Child in the cowl.


    Forever a child, if thats what youre asking. But from what I saw, I did you favor.


    Thoth shook her head, her voice cold. He always did talk too much.


    I searched her stoic face for anything more. Any sign of distress, or anger. She was too experienced to give any visual responsebut she appeared to find it almost entertaining when I killed her operative in Kholis, cackled about it if memory served. And she wasnt laughing now.


    Oh well. She leered at me, her eyes crinkling in a false smile that vanished as quickly as it manifested. You know, youre right. I was different, once. The person who named me was rather uncreative, rather full of himself. But eventually, I saw the wisdom in it. Creating an entirely new identity, someone unfathomably strong, someone to be feared.


    So this is all an act then.


    Oh no. Thoth shivered, her smile turning cruel. Maybe that was true once. That my guise allowed me to waylay guiltit wasnt really me, of courseI was just somewhere inside, a girl with too much responsibility watching a monster do what needed to be done. You must understand, with the way youve been acting. Like some noble hero out of a storybook, when we both know youre nothing but a scared child with the weight of the world on your shoulders.


    I hated that she wasnt wrong. The nights I didnt wake, silently screaming, surges of unbearable anxiety gripping my heart in a steel cage that shrunk ever tighter, could be counted on one hand. Id gotten better at hiding it, at pretending. But in the end, thats all it was. The mask of a hero that hid the terror within.


    My head began to throb. Not only did I have to be careful of every word, I had to consider every argument or comment I might have made in previous lives. I had to game my past selves, second guessing what they might have said to keep her attention.


    Was there even a way to win this?


    Arent we the same, then? I hated myself for asking. Were both pretending to be something were not. Were both filling roles that no one else will and making it up as we go along.


    Let me answer your question with a question. Thoth leaned in, voice low, as if she was about to divulge some grand secret. When you killed Ghast, did you pay his toll? She was inches away. I fought the urge to distance myself.


    What?


    Oh, perhaps youre not familiar with the custom. Its a human tradition, but Whitefall is a starless, godless city. In the times of your ancestors, those who died would be buried


    With two coppers, so they could pass into the afterlife, yes, I know it, I snapped, annoyed with the random aside.


    No. The two coppers were a toll for Phlegyas, the ferryman, who carried the departed across the etherial river into the underworld itself. And those unfortunate enough to forget their pursesthose who died, alone and unlovedare doomed to struggle on the shores, drowning in the mud for all eternity.


    Im aware of the myth.


    Of course you are. Because you did it for Tusk. Slipped those copper coins right into his pocket. It was adorable. Thoth laughed until there were tears in her eyes, wiping her eyes with her ruined hands, leaving streaks of blood across her face. So, Ill ask you again. Did you pay Ghasts toll? My stomach twisted, as I finally saw what she was driving at.


    No.


    Thoth chuckled. Thats the difference between us, Cairn. The more I played this part, the more I liked it. It felt good to leave empathy behind. Cathartic. The more people I hurt, the more I realized I liked it. That the darkness suited me. That it was right. But it hasnt been that simple for you, has it, noble hero?


    No.


    But I had to remember who I was talking to. Someone whod known me for perhaps longer than Id known myself. Letting her get into my head here would be folly. I had to go on the offensive.


    I think youre playing a game with peoples lives on the line. That youve been playing it for as long as you can remember, and its skewed your perspectivethats hardly your fault, of course. Its the purpose they gave you. But now you are cursed with a perspective and mindset that no one living can understand.


    Stop trying to empathize and build rapport. It wont work


    As I descended from the mana altar, a wide smile spread across my face. I wanted to laugh. To dance. The path that brought me here had felt so dire, for so long, that even the grim notion of a stay of execution felt like a pleasant dream.


    My friends joined me, rising from their hiding places behind the pillars. Maya stared at me as if Id gone mad, while Jorra and Bell slowly followed behind, Jorra walking with his back to mine, never taking his eyes from Thoth. I could picture us traveling back together, taking our time, finding the barrier rescinded on our arrival. Perhaps, route permitting, wed stop at the lagoon again.


    The feeling of elation was so strong, so overwhelming, that Id forgotten the most important lesson Id learned since the loops began: Everything is connected. Every action has consequences, and those consequences ripple far deeper and stronger than we can possibly imagine.


    Maya looped her arm in mine.


    Thats it? Bell asked, looking confused.


    Yep. There will be other days


    Vogrin waited, his back to a pillar, grinning from ear to ear. My elation died in my chest.


    I froze.


    No.


    A dark shadow blew passed me, so fast it was nearly invisible, dark and heavy, ruffling my hair.


    This Thoth. I want her.


    Ozra stop! I screamed, spinning, trying to catch sight of him in the blur of motion. But he didnt hear me.


    Thoth did, however. She staggered to her feet, ritual completed, and stared back at me in a mix of confusion and contempt as I tore myself free from Maya and sprinted towards her, my heart pounding.


    Stop!


    Ozra collided with Thoth in a blur of violence and motion, driving a black chitin gauntlet into her jaw with enough force to shatter a boulder. Thoth flew backwards in a helpless spin, colliding with a nearby pillar. I willed him, with all my heart, to keep going. But no. He merely floated over her, gloating.


    Stupid fucking demon.


    Ozra called out to me as I approached. Exceedingly clever, stalling like that. You


    There is no going back now, little prince.


    End her! I roared. I held the Infarai lens up, centering its focus on Thoth. There was a feeling of warmth and needles as an almost indescribable power welled into me. Thoth twitched.


    Ozras eyes narrowed, the surrounding air turning dark. I will not be


    I didnt hear the rest as I raced beyond him. Infaris had described the effect as temporary, so I need to maximize the moment. The broken dagger in my hand had been thoroughly coated with a combination of laudenshade and oak-bane, poison and paralytic combined.


    Thoths jaw hung open in a macabre yawn, her mouth bloody and teeth broken.


    A single, snake like eye opened.


    I slammed my knee into her head, bashing it back against the pillar with a sickening crunch, then collapsed, driving the dagger into her thigh, looking for the artery. A spurt of crimson spattered the nearby ground. Thoth was staring at me. I sliced at her neck, instead leaving a gash in her chin when she tucked her head. She was in shock, her ruined hands coming up to fend me off, push me away. Her broken fingers clawed at my face.


    Panting, I angled, catching an outstretched wrist beneath my chin, using my other arm to trap hers, hacking at the underside of her arm, clearing the armor and slicing through flesh.


    Please. PLEASE.


    Shes done. Ozra snarled, pulling me off her, lifting me entirely off my feet by the back-clasp of my armor. Sate your bloodlust elsewhere, or there will be nothing left to interrogate!


    I struggled, calling out to the seed of flame Id left on her back, willing it to burn upward towards her head, avoiding any cut flesh so as not to cauterize the damage. The scent of burning hair filled the air.


    Thoths arm, bleeding profusely, slowly rose, shaking, trembling, finally completing its slow ascent to grab at the chain on her neck, revealing a slim silver medallion. Her voice resonated in my head.


    Fuck you, for making me use this so soon.


    A half-second later, she whispered again.


    What a fool I was. To wonder.


    There was a flash as a creature emerged from the darkness in a spectacular show of light. If it had a mouth, its face might have been beautiful. Its wings were those of a giant dove, its garments of the finest silk cloth, white, gold, and regal. It looked like a classic artists rendition of an angel.


    It flicked a finger towards Thoth, a winding cord of emerald light surrounding her body, lifting her. The fire climbing her back extinguished at once as she hung limply in its grip.


    Asmodial, The creature projected in a medley of clashing tones, its voice everywhere and nowhere.


    Decarabia, Ozra seethed, his red eyes flashing. His casual air was nowhere to be seen.


    A countless series of deafening explosions detonated as the scene exploded into chaos.

 Chapter 118: Sanctum XLIII

    Chapter 118: Sanctum XLIII


    So, you didnt like it then. Thaddeus leaned against the bar three seats down from me, seeming entirely unsurprised.


    No. They simpered.


    I didnt often keep company with him. In all honesty, I disliked him before there was even reason to. He was too smarmy, too slick. That wasnt uncommon, amongst nobles, especially those closest to the crown. What made Thaddeus stand out was how he was entirely without ego. He seldom bragged of his accomplishments, or made snide remarks belittling others. He simply had an air of superior precience about his manner that made him frustratingly poor company.


    I hadnt even known he was there, until my friendsmostly acquaintances or social climbers or bothfiltered out to fawn over the arrival of some foreign dignitary, leaving only Thaddeus and I seated at the bar. And after the events that had taken Lillian from me, the only thing that kept me in my seat was the grim realization that I didnt trust myself to stand.


    For a prince, I daresay you have a strange aversion to deference. Thaddeus gave a quick shake of his head to the barkeep when the burly man circled past. Despite the barkeeps burly appearance, he did not bristle at the dismissal, returning to his previous routine of pretending the rotund spymaster was not there.


    I found it curious. For a person so slimy, ordinary, and insidiously disquieting, it was strange how easily Thaddeus could pass through any place seen or unseen.


    I am a prince, not a god. And when I say they simpered, Im not exaggerating. Actually, that might be an understatement. They were almost predatory. Its a miracle I escaped that place with my soul intact.


    An increasing topic of concern as of late. Thaddeus chuckled to himself, as if at some private joke. But some would argue that theres not much difference, between a prince and a god.


    I smiled bitterly into my drink, and took a long pull. They are fools.


    Undoubtedly. But you are set apart from them. That is what it means to be a son of House Gil.


    With an explosion of sudden anger, I threw the mug, and it smashed into the wall behind him. Thaddeus didnt budge, didnt blink.


    I sense that its not me youre upset with.


    Its this stupid pageantry. My voice raised belligerently. Barkeep, how did you come to work here? Were you born into it?


    The barkeep blinked and looked between us, then appeared to measure the distance to the nearest exit. No milord. The previous owner was sellin at a discount, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time.


    He means, Thaddeus said dryly, That he made a not insignificant purse as a fighter in the Topside underground circuit, and caught the owner in the midst of somethingshall we say, compromisingwith someone of a noble house.


    The barkeep stopped in the middle of his polish, his face as white as a sheet.


    Dont be an asshole, Thaddeus, I growled, I like this tavern.


    Thaddeus rolled his eyes and turned and spoke to the man directly. He also a frequent peruser of The Velvet Candelabra


    The barkeep dropped his towel.


    And will find his, frankly, alarmingly habitual visitations credited for this week, so long as he keeps his mouth shut about anything he might have overheard today.


    As if reanimated by magic, the barkeep bent to retrieve his towel, refilled Thaddeuss mug unbidden, and retreated to the other room.


    My mind wheeled in a drunken stupor. I whispered to Thaddeus. Really? Velvet Candelabra? Isnt that where


    Thaddeus held up a hand. Whatever the second part of that question is, the answer is yes.


    I put a hand on my head, absorbing that. What were we talking about?


    Before or after you uncovered Lorsens nightly activities?


    Before.


    Roles. Or at least, I think that was where you were going.


    My mind snapped back into focus. Right. Right. My point was, regardless of methodology, the barkeep wasnt handed this tavern. He earned it. Hells, you worked to get to where you are. You have no noble house. No one knew who you were until my father appointed you spymaster.


    It took some doing, Thaddeus said, in the same tone of nostalgic amusement.


    And then theres me. Crown prince. Leader of the realm. I held up my mug in a slow, sarcastic arc. Appointed to my position because I was born.


    Youve known this all your life.


    Were supposed to be better. My lip curled. More. Elite warriors, honorable, chosen by the blood of the gods.


    Ah. This is about Stiltheia.


    My mouth twitched, as I recalled the event. Yet another skirmish my father had dragged me along for, despite his clear displeasure with me. A ragtag collection of dark elves were attacking remote villages. They had built up decent defenses around a nearby fort with excellent sight-lines always a nightmare when there were elves involvedbut King Gil had settled for the tried and true tactic of cutting off supply lines and simply waiting them out. The woman who came out to negotiate was all skin and bones, her muscle wasted away to almost nothing. And of course, as he had so many times before, my father went back on his word the moment the advantage was his.


    Honor is a fiction. The only thing that separates a noble from the garden-variety topside bandit is that the bandit is at least honest in his intentions.


    Thaddeus fiddled with the signet ring on his finger. You know, this line of thought isnt exactly unique. Id wager a minor fortune that similar conversations are happening right now, in a dozen taverns not unlike this one. All that makes this conversation different from the others are the individuals partaking in it.


    Youre calling me trite.


    You are, but that is not my point. Amongst the nobles, you have a unique gift, my lord.


    And what is that, spymaster?


    Self-awareness. Thaddeus popped the ring off his finger and tossed it to me. I caught it, fumbling a few times before it finally settled, trapped in my left hand. The buzz of alcohol cleared somewhat as I studied the ring. It was a dark silver, surprisingly weighty, and somewhat crudely engraved with the outline of a sun.


    What kind of metal is this? I wondered.


    Wraithbond, a little known composite found only in the depths of what your people call the dark continent.


    Youve been there? I was shocked.


    Been there? No, dear prince. I was born there.


    I almost didnt believe him, if not for how outlandish it sounded. Youve climbed quite high for a foreigner.


    I have, but that is not my point. Life there was not easy. There were countless threats, constant death. Menor beings that approximated menfought and warred and died over honor. But they didnt call it honor, there. They called it pride.


    And bloodlines?


    The only blood they cared for was how much they could spill.


    So youre agreeing with me, I said.


    That honor is a fiction? Thaddeus raised an eyebrow. No. This is something the king understands well. The foundation of a civilized society is establishing ideals to aspire towards. Thus, honor is a construct. A tool to tame wild men.


    So again because we were born noble, we exist outside the societal norm. My father can simply make promises and overturn them, slaughtering captives whenever he chooses.


    I will deny having said what I am about to say until the end of time, Thaddeus spoke slowly. But King Gil is not the example you should be drawing from in your sophistry. There are times when a leader should lie. But ever since King Gil broke his blood oath to the elven queen, marrying your mother instead, his reputation for oath-breaking never corrected. A mans word is important, and he broke his, over and over, and now, it means practically nothing.


    It just gives him the excuse to turn to war.


    That is perhaps true. But you should be looking to the opposite.


    The opposite of my father.


    I had lost.


    Thoth staggered towards me. In her left hand, she held one of the ruined daggers, snapped off at the hilt. She waved her right hand over it in a ragged motion, and the dagger began to glow sickly green, the same deathly color it was when she first killed me a lifetime ago.


    Desperate and unable to move my lower body, I swung diagonally towards her neck. She didnt dodge so much as shift, her upper torso bending backwards as if she had no rib cage. It spoke to her state of mind that there was no gloating, no pontificating. Nothing readable in her gaze but rage and hatred.


    Thoth was going to kill me. And Maya was going to die. Over and over again. Panic washed resolution away as I realized there was no way out. No escape.


    Time slowed down. Thoth pulled the dagger back, and with an animalistic grunt, plunged it home.


    I heard the knife slide into flesh. But I felt nothing.


    No. Thoths voice. Surprised. Understated.


    Thoth recoiled, retreated a few steps and fell. The energy flowing from the pool overcame her and she began to thrash uncontrollably. An invisible net held her.


    There was a cough, and a sputter. I looked down into the sea-blue eyes of a little girl. Her hands were wrapped tightly around my neck. It only took a second to recognize her as the child who spoke to me outside the Sanctum. She smiled, as one might if woken from a pleasant dream.


    Aethro.


    Then she hacked, guttural and deep, coughing blood onto my shirt. Her fists clung to me tightly.


    It hurts


    In a moment of realization, I lifted her back in a panic, checking for damage. Thoths dagger had pierced straight through her. If the dagger had been an inch longer, or the girl a hair thinner, it would have killed me. The girl had shielded me.


    The angel passed by us, clearly prioritizing its disabled master now that we were no longer aggressing, but I could feel the hate in its gaze.


    You foolish girl! Thoth roared. For him? Hes worthless! Hes always been worthless. Gods dammit!


    Not to me. The girls voice was barely more than a whisper.


    The Decarabia busied itself, freeing Thoths from the magical binds the girl had somehow applied.


    Put me down.


    We can heal you, I insisted, my throat dry.


    The girl indicated the wound on her chest. Cleansing this is beyond you and her both. Go made a deal with Infaris. The way is open Will not be for long. You have to go. The girl whispered.


    We can talk about it later. I took a step forward to pick her up anyway, but impacted an invisible wall.


    No. Though small and quiet, her voice was fierce. Dont waste this. Dont try to save me. I always die here. Have always died her. Will always the girl trailed off.


    At least tell me your name, I pleaded. Im not certain why, but it felt important. Maybe so I could offer a prayer for her, or at least know the name of this tiny person who had reached out her hand to set me on the right path, not once but twice.


    Sorry. The little girl forced a pained smile, and said in a voice centuries too tired for her appearance. Im hoping if I dont maybe you wont bring me back this time.


    That statement left me with too many questions to count. But I could see Thoth in the background, beginning to free herself from her restraints with the aid of her demon.


    Ill find you. Thoth tore her gaze away from the girl to glare at me with hateful eyes.


    I know.


    With that, I turned and fled, hauling Maya up by the shoulder.


    Maya summoned Kastramoth, both of us scrambling up his back. Jorra clasped Bells arm and hauled her up behind us.


    Who was that? Bell asked me over Jorras shoulder.


    No idea, I said. Because who she was seemed less important than who she looked like. The way her sandy hair had formed a halo around her head. The way shed smiled. It all seemed too familiar. I was jerked out of the thought as Kastramoth began to sprint, his movements far more jarring than a horses gait.


    Talk later! Maya yelled, The mausoleum is collapsing! She kicked her heels into Kastramoths sides and he was off.


    The countless bodies in our wake seemed to whisper and laugh, a reminder of the bloodshed to come. A piece of rubble fell from the ceiling, striking Kastramoth in the head and sending the rest of us flying. We staggered through the gaping entrance, passed the torn-open gate.


    Cairn! Thoths scream resonated from deeper within. There was a terrible noise, as if the mausoleum itself was being torn apart stone by stone. The grass and dirt itself flowed inward to the mouth of the mausoleum, hindering our progress.


    Over there! Look! Bellarex had reappeared a small distance from the gate. The panic in my chest subsided as I saw what she found. Infariss portal was open at the mouth of the graveyard. I didnt know how the girl had convinced the goddess to aid us. Maybe Infaris just hated Thoth. Perhaps there was a greater plan at play. Either way, at that moment it didnt matter.


    The ringing in my ears came back, stronger than ever before. Thoth was right behind us. I felt a gust of her as she rushed up behind me, her fingers grazing my neck.


    We pushed through the portal and landed hard. Once the nauseating mix of inertia and disembodiment faded, I recognized the location instantly. It was the site of the last loop, where we were first ambushed. I fell to my knees panting on the spongey ground. Maya was already beside me. Jorra landed roughly a few feet away.


    The only sound was the chirping of birds.


    She looked like you. Maya said quietly.


    My attention snapped to Maya. Her hair and face were all wrong.


    I didnt see much of her. But she had your eyes. What did she call you?


    Aethra, I said. The word felt heavy in my mouth.


    I do not recognize it. Maya said. Neither did I.


    Jorra started to laugh.


    Brother? Maya pushed herself up and tentatively moved forward.


    I cant believe it, Jorra said.


    I sat back on my knees, still winded, watching Jorra with caution. Cant believe what?


    The four of us just got in caught up in knife-fight involving the leaders of two demonic legions and a stupidly powerful mage, and we actually made it. Jorra laughed harder.


    I wasnt really ready to see the humor, but the laughter was infections. Maya started chuckling. A smile tugged at my lips. We might all be dead soon. But for the moment, we were alive.


    I cant believe you actually caught an arch-fiends magic with your gauntlet. Jorra wiped his eyes.


    I nodded. And then you tried to drown him.


    That was so much water, Jorra. Maya held a hand over her mouth.


    Too much. I shook my head. Youre lucky the ceiling was so high.


    Jorra shrugged, as if he too, was surprised by how much water there was. I thought I was a goner. If Bell hadnt saved me, I would have been in torn to pieces


    He trailed off. We all went silent as the realization dawned. Bell wasnt with us.

 Chapter 119: Sanctum XLIV

    Chapter 119: Sanctum XLIV


    Wed spent the better part of an hour frantically searching the area. My chest hurt, my accumulated wounds going untreated as Maya helped us search. There was no trace of a return portal, visible or otherwise. Though he was the last person I wanted to talk to, I eventually summoned Vogrin for confirmation.


    The way Vogrin went about the work was a stark contrast from his usual behavior. In the time that Id known him, the demon was unflinchingly grotesque. Staring, probing uncomfortable weakness, and a propensity to gloat. Had he acted that way, I probably couldnt have stopped myself from doing something drastic.


    But Vogrin didnt say a word, gloating or otherwise. Instead, he seemed withdrawn. Almost in shock.


    He reported back to me in a quiet tone. There was a divine portal here. Likely Infaris, though to tell the truth, I do not have the capability of telling divine energy apart. The only magical signatures in the area apart from my ownor traces of magiccomes from the three of you.


    Grief rolled over me in a slow wave. I tried to keep my voice steady. So its definitive. Bell didnt make it through.


    Vogrin sighed. With certainty. Even if shed maintained a void-state and departed, and I cannot imagine why that would be the case, there would have been some trace of her.


    I put a hand to my forehead. There was a litany of things I wanted to say to Vogrin, but none of them were helpful, none of them productive. I waved him away, trying desperately to cling to the small modicum of rationality I had left. I need to think.


    Master.


    The hatred Id been trying so desperately to hold back flared in my gut. I fixed Vogrin with a level stare, and asked, my voice as smooth and transparent as glass. Can it wait?


    Vogrin seemed to grow smaller. It must be said.


    Then do so and be done with it, I snapped.


    Ozra has retreated. He is still on this plane, though I suspect he has retreated to gather forces to retaliate.


    Is that all? I asked. It sounded like someone else speaking.


    You spoke of how powerful she was. I took your evaluation as hyperbole. Vogrin deflated further. Despite the power of her scent, I assumed she was only human. And, historically, even the strongest human is fodder compared to an arch-fiend.


    I stared at him.


    Vogrin continued. I am in an unenviable position. My loyalty to the Arch-Fiend supersedes my contractual obligations. I saw what I perceived to be an opportunity to seize a desirable boon to my legion and acted on it.


    Yes. You did.


    His next words surprised me. I was wrong. Had I listened, truly listened, I might have realized that my competing interests were not actually in conflict. Forcing the conflict helped neither you, nor Ozra.


    And if your apology was worth even a fraction of my friends life, perhaps I would care to listen to what you have to say. But it isnt, and I dont.


    I would not blame you if you decided to relinquish the contract.


    I nearly did. It would have been easy. To strip him of his contract and use demon-fire to banish him below. The anger had built to a degree that was almost unsustainable. It was something the old me would have done.


    But no. I grabbed his tattered lapels and pulled him closer. Youd love that, wouldnt you. The chance to run away, to not be held responsible for the things youve done. Ozra hated you so much he allowed you to be bound to me at no cost, like a lesser imp.


    You paid dearly.


    Maybe, I countered, But not without trial and error. Not without things going wrong at least once and sending me back here, to this nigh unwinnable scenario, and againI lose one of you. I pointed to the ground behind her. The very spot Id watched her die, over and over again, overtaken by a poison I couldnt heal.


    Maya grabbed me by the shoulders, her eyes opening in sudden realization. You keep saying one of us, as if it could be anyone. But like you said, I saw it for myself. Yes, sometimes it was Jorra, or Bell, or all three of us. But it was almost always me.


    What of it? When I tried to brush her off me, her grip only tightened.


    You cannot trade anothers life for mine, Cairn. Mayas voice was hard. And this is bigger than any single person. Isnt that exactly what got you into trouble the first time? Throwing everything else away for one person? Her words stung worse than any fire, burned deeper than any sword.


    Just My voice broke. Just give me time. Please. Let me think. Bell might still be alive.


    Thoth will never forgive you for what just happened.


    I shook my head. She was never going to let it go anyway. Please. You think as long as shes been doing this, she was going to just let me live? After all this time? All that was on the table was a temporary respite. There was never going to be peace.


    Is it not worth a try? If it buys you time? Maya released me, her sympathy turning to something closer to horror.


    Not if it kills you.


    Maya was right. I knew it and so did she. But the current circumstances might present an opportunity. Thoth was beyond angry, unbalanced. If I could find a way to leverage her rage, it might present another opportunity. But what?


    Maya sobbed. I cannot be the reason other people die, simply because you love me.


    Sweat poured down my brow as I desperately thought, and planned, and tried to look at the current circumstances from every angle. Talking to Thoth was out. If I got close, I had little doubt shed simply murder me on the spot. Was there anyone else who could help? Any other way to defuse this?


    The solution is simple enough. Kill him. Bring his head to the heart. Until then, you will be trapped.


    A seed of an idea began to sprout into something bigger, something more substantial. But I would need everyone. And I couldnt tell them why.


    Youre right, I said finally. Maya stepped back in surprise.


    So, what does that mean for us? For this.


    The girl who died she asked me to not save her. The way she said it makes me think I wouldnt be able to. And then implied she wouldnt be able to save me again, despite likely knowing what I can do.


    The magic Thoth cast on her dagger, Maya realized.


    That spell, Ive seen it before. That girl, Im not sure what she is, but I think shes like Thoth and me, an outsider. And she shielded me from it for a reason. Maybe shes wrong, but if she isn''t, I need to make the most of this first. I spoke again before Maya could. And if Bell is gone, we owe it to her to try everything we can to make the most of the time she gave us. Thats what youre asking me to do, isnt it? Not to prioritize others over you? That works both ways, Maya. Just because youve decided to stay in the Sanctum and not follow me doesnt make you less of a person. You dont get to be a martyr.


    Maya bit her lip. You really have a plan?


    Yes. It wasnt much of one yet. Id need to flesh it out, smooth out any holes. But it was there, and what was there was solid.


    Maya embraced me. Ill trust you. Its just hard.


    After a moments hesitation, I held her back. As much as I wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay, I knew it would be a lie.


    If what I had in mind worked, it would solve the problem of the Sanctum being held hostage with minimal bloodshed. But that didnt change the fact that Maya would hate me for it. They all would.

 Chapter 120: Sanctum XLV

    Chapter 120: Sanctum XLV


    There was no sign of Bell. Jorra kept palming his signal orb, worrying that if Bell called for us and the orb was in his pocket that he might miss it, as unlikely as it was.


    I found Morthus at Veldanis hospice in surprisingly good health. Told him what I needed. He agreed to it, informing me there was a method of calling all Elders and Masters back to the heart of the Sanctum in times of great emergency.


    We wanted to keep moving, but Veldani insisted we stay, safely stowed away for what passed as night in the Sanctum.


    I dreamed of many things. A warm Auburnswell breeze in a peaceful meadow. Bellarex, beckoning us towards the portal and following behind us, landing with a light yelp right after Jorra did.


    Then I dreamed of Whitefall. I floated through the long, stone-paved streets and lit storefronts. I wandered through topside, looking for Gunthers apothecary, wanting desperately to glimpse Lillian through the window. Only the streets seemed to wind back on themselves and I found myself passing the same cat, a pair of foul-smelling guards, and dilapidated buildings time after time. Eventually, I gave up and made my way to the castle. The way the snow hung on the rooftops filled me with a strange sort of nostalgia. This was the last place Id expected to miss, but it seemed that I did. I wandered the long marbled hallways, glancing around pillars, seeking someone, anyone familiar.


    In all the years Id spent in this castle, it had never slept, but now laid empty and cold, in a manner that struck me as a strange omen.


    When I reached the study, I was surprised to find it occupied. My father was at his desk, his stern face drawn and irritable as he leafed through an endless mountain of documents. Slowly, he looked up at me.


    How long do you expect me to wait?


    I startled awake to the sound of a door slam, my heart racing.


    You made a right mess out there, future apprentice. Veldani scolded. She threw back the curtains and I winced from the onslaught of light.


    Through the haze of sleep dusting my eyes, I saw Maya sit up slowly from the bed across the room, rubbing her face. Jorras bed was empty. My heart seized for a moment, before I saw him go running by the window outside, Bacchus in tow. His face was empty of emotion, completely and totally focused.


    Hes training.


    My mind finally latched onto what Veldani had said. What do you mean?


    Veldani glared at me, still intimidating despite her short stature. I mean the Sanctum, boy. Not much of a Sanctum anymore. More like a warzone.


    Dammit. I had hoped we had more time.


    Language, Veldani chided me. The Decarabia and Asmodials seem to be focusing on each other. Thats the good part, as its giving the little ones time to get clear. The bad part is theres a lot of them.


    Somehow I doubt the Decarabia are going to just let us pass like the others. Maya said, darkly. Shed vocally opposed Veldanis edict that we take time to rest, and was clearly unhappy that things had gotten worse as wed slept.


    Veldani thrust a finger in Mayas direction. Dont sass me, child. She indicated me with her head. This one was dead on his feet. Young ones die every year in the Sanctum due to pride and stupid hubris.


    I did not Maya started, only to be summarily ignored when Veldani turned to me and continued.


    Discovering your limit is important. But more essential than that is realizing we have them for a reason. There are some things we simply cant do. You have an old soul, Cairn. Ancient, even, the oldest Ive seen. It nearly crumbled within you, and its barely holding now.


    Veldani couldnt possibly know what I was on the verge of doing. She was pushing her agenda, as it wouldnt serve her or the rest of the infernals to lose me. But it didnt change the fact that she was right. There had to be limits. Willfully trading Mayas life for another chance was something I simply wouldntno, couldntdo.


    I let the magic go.


    If the return route is barred, what is the fastest way back to the heart? Maya asked. Her voice was a calming salve on the raging of my mind.


    The correct question, is what is the safest route. And the answer is simple. There isnt one. Veldani stated plainly, looking between us. Its been weeks. Theyve likely discovered the issue on the other side and every parent, council member, and infernal with an inkling of magic is working to resolve it.


    I shook my head. Veldani, like so many others, was underestimating Thoth. You dont know what were up against.


    We cant hide. Maya stood up, her fists clenched at her side. Not while whats happening is happening because of us.


    Thats foolishness talking, child, Veldani said. His life is more valuable than any life that might be lost in this conflict.


    It could take months to get the barrier down. What about the infernals that are about to age out of the Sanctum? Maya challenged. They will be stuck. Their life, their future contributions to the Enclave, all but wasted.


    Isnt that the same fate youve chosen for yourself? I clamped down on the thought before I could voice it.


    Is my existence, my life, a waste because I live here? Veldani raised an eyebrow.


    No, but


    But nothing. They would be able to research, learn, push farther into the sanctum.


    And their families? Maya asked. She seemed to wither at her own question.


    Veldani remained quiet as well. They would be able to meet them at the halfway point. It would be a great tragedy, yes. But if the boy dies, our chances of accessing the sanctum are practically nil.


    What about Bacchus? I asked. I know hes not as far along, but youre talking like its not even a possibility.


    Extending a hand, Veldani called forth the flame. Ignis, She touched it to a single corner of the nightstand and held it there. I shifted away, but noticed that the dark-stained wood of the nightstand did not ignite. Control. The flame formed a tiny spark that moved slowly in a small pattern, lightning the stain and leaving the underlying wood untouched.


    And the third stage? I breathed. Id been curious to know what it was, ever since Maya explained it to me.


    Veldani reached her hand out. Absolution.

 Chapter 121: Sanctum XLVI

    Chapter 121: Sanctum XLVI


    Thats it? I asked dubiously. Veldani looked displeased with my statement, but after all the build up, it felt like something of a let down.


    Theres more that can be done with it. Significantly more. But youre ignoring the most important part.


    What is it burning? Maya asked. Its different from a simple fireball spell. Its not being fueled by mana. It looks like pure elemental magic. Her voice was almost reverent.This chapter is updated by


    Good. Smarter than you look. Wrong on the elemental magic fronteven in its raw form you wouldnt be able to levitate it like this or use it as anything more than a spout of flamebut mostly right. Absolution has many basic uses for a combat mage, but it is real value is far more complicated.


    The answer started to dawn on me. My first thought was that it was burning the air itself. But that shouldnt be possible. Ive tried. Even if the spark is shrunk down and controlled to the point its practically nothing. It shouldnt be any different but it is. It is using the air as fuel, isnt it?


    Veldani nodded. Go on.


    My excitement grew. Its needed to open the dimensional portalnot unlike teleportation, which requires the breaking down and reconstituting of matter. Destruction and composition. The spark isnt burning the air. Its cycling it.


    Suddenly, I was questioning everything. I had always assumed that the reason Id awoken the demon flame was because of my first death. The theory had been a a gut feeling at first, eventually loosely supported by the infernals research of soul degradation and imprints. But this seemed far too intentional and powerful to have happened by accident alone.


    What else can it do? I asked, my mind racing. The possibilities seemed nearly limitless.


    We can discuss it in your second lesson, tomorrow. This was your first. Veldani banished the flame. In which, youve put far more together than my other pupil.


    I knew she was trying to persuade me to stay. But the comment conflicted with what I knew about Bacchus. Really? I found him quite clever.


    Oh, dont get me wrong, he is. Brilliant, even. But hes spent most of his awakened life suppressing his gift. Fearing it. And that is not the sort of practice that can be unlearned overnight. I might be able to teach him to the third stage, eventually. But he would age out long before that. Veldani leaned in. Stay, and I will answer your every question. I dont know how, and I dont know why, but you have an intrinsic understanding of the flame. Dont waste that.


    I glanced at Maya, curious why she hadnt revealed her second awakening, and got a subtle shake of the head in return.


    I suddenly felt very weary. The exhaustion and hyper vigilance was taking its toll. But I was no more capable of doing what Veldani wanted than I was of resetting the loop. Letting Thoth run rampant, ruining dozens, maybe hundreds of lives while I hid from what I had done. That was not why I came here.


    That was not my purpose.


    I stood, on uneasy legs, and bowed deeply to Veldani. We lost a friend, escaping the mausoleum. Given her sacrifice, I cannot sit idly by. I apologize, master, that I cannot accept your guidance. Thank you for the lesson.


    Bah, Veldani rolled her eyes, the fight going out of her, and turned to leave. I found I regretted disappointing the woman. She clearly cared deeply for her people, and considered me one of them. Theres a broken chamber to the east. Bacchus has been exploring it slowly. Theres a good chance it leads back to the heart.


    Broken chambers are notoriously dangerous. Maya said, alarmed.


    Yes, well, so is facing down a deity-stricken arch-mage but I dont see that stopping you. Either way, its safer than wading through the mess of demons fighting across the normal routes. I checked it on my way back. It remains undiscovered.


    I smiled, then. She knew we wouldnt listen. Veldani had a much better measure of us than I expected.


    /////


    Youre sure you want to do this? Morthus asked. I looked at him questioningly as he took an overly long draw from his pipewith the state of his body that couldnt be healthybut deigned not to comment on it.


    Its already done, I said. I sent my asmodial to contact the arch-fiend. Assuming the minor miracle hes decided to be reasonable well have everything we need. Vogrin had listened to my request with barely restrained glee.


    I have to ask, young Cairn, with all these grand schemes, do you even have time to make small plans? Morthuss eyebrow quirked in amusement. Like what clothes to wear the next morning, or what you might have for breakfast?


    I dont eat much these days. I shrugged. And I have no idea how long Ive been wearing this shirt.


    Thats a no then. Damn it all. With a grunt, followed by a wheeze, Morthus pulled himself out of bed.


    Where are you going?


    I have been there, at the vital moments of my people since the day I was born. Great and terrible. This is no different. Morthus paused as he placed his fingertips upon the bedside armoire, staring straight ahead.


    She wont let you go. I told Morthus. For whatever reason, she seems to hate you.


    Unsurprising. From what Ive heard, she hates a great many people. Something that happened in prior iterations no doubt, same as you. Morthus moved from his bed to the dresser, opening it. He slid a dozen of the simple gray robes they wore in the hospice over, revealing a few things. withdrew his white masters robe, sliding it carefully over his shoulders. You must do the same while learning from her mistakes. Catalogue every slight, every failing. But do not allow yourself to hide and grow bitter. Face the mistakes. Both yours and others. Learn from them. Ive had time to consider your situation in depth, and I have to conclude that this did not happen by accident. Whatever overly ambitious arch-mage, or deity, or demon brought you into this, did so for a reason. He raised an eyebrow at me. And I suspect desperation factored into it. Unlike your enemy, you do not have a near-limitless time to get this right.


    Theres still much I have to learn. About the metamorphosis society, their greater purpose.


    I have told you much of what I know already. And what is left is of questionable use. Who we were, what we intended to do. Which I suspect, is very different from what we did.


    But


    Still figuring it out. I whispered.


    When the ogre-like demon returned, his mouth was dyed red, and there were feathers stuck to his barrel of a chest. He approached Kastramoth slowly. Kastramoth snarled, and Maya placed a hand on his leg to silence him before he escalated.


    Leave him be. Maya said, calmly.


    This one owes me a debt, The asmodial said.


    He is my charge.


    Then you owe me a debt. He looked us over hungrily, before his gaze met mine. Immediately, his attitude changed. He went down on one knee, head bowed. Friend of the Arch-Fiend. I am sorry. I did not know these belonged to you. His eyes slid to Kastramoth. Though Im not sure why a supplicant of Ozra the Perilous would sully themself with the company of a Hellhound.


    I was reminded yet again how powerful Ozra was, to inspire this level of obedience in beings as stubborn as demons. And despite all that power, Thoth had slapped him aside like he was nothing.


    Rise, Greater Demon. We only wished to aid, I said.


    His brow furrowed. They were nothing. But I thank you.


    What are your orders here? I asked.


    The demon shrugged. To lay waste to the pretenders. And assist if we found you under siege.


    That presented a problem. I had hoped Ozra mightout of some uncharacteristic bout of reticencehave ordered the demons to escort us if they found me. But of course, that was too much to ask.


    I considered the situation. Thoth would want a display. A public demonstration of power, both personal and external. And what better way to demonstrate that power than to show up at the heart of the Sanctum, with the full force of a dominant legion in tow.


    Demon, I said slowly. What if I told you there was a way for you to do both, in a manner that was sure to make Ozra take notice.


    His eyes narrowed greedily. Oh?


    I tried to imbue confidence in words that were little more than a theory. The Decerabia Legion will be consolidating at the Heart, An arch-mage that dealt your master a great insult at their head.


    The demon let out an audible growl at that, his interest sharpening.


    I smiled wickedly. As it happens, I will also be at the heart.


    The demon understood immediately. An evil grin spread across his face, matching mine. What youre saying is, theres going to be a party and Im invited.


    Oh yes. I chuckled. You and anyone else you can find. Does the legion have a way to spread word quickly?


    There are fliers, yes. Ill need to locate a commander but news will spread rapidly after that.


    Within a day?


    Easily. The demon was practically drooling with anticipation. Then he jumped as Maya touched his leg. What


    Healing. For your journey. There was a flash of green light at her fingertips, and the demons many wounds began to heal. He nodded eagerly, practically prancing in anticipation for her to finish. Then he sprinted away, covering bounds of distance in frequent leaps.


    Jorra and I watched him go.


    What did you just do? Jorra asked.


    I shrugged. Bolstered our defenses. Created a deterrent to stop Thoth from taking things too far. Shes raging now, but shes not stupid. She wont risk losing such a powerful force this early.


    And if youre wrong? Maya asked.


    Jorra shook his head. You just changed the focal point of the conflict to where the civilians are retreating. If she doesnt cool off, and attacks anyways He didnt have to finish. It would be a bloodbath.


    She wont. I said.


    This would work. It had to.


    /////


    Not long after that, we entered the broken chamber. And everything that seemed so simple in my mind became far more complicated.

 Chapter 122: Sanctum XLVII

    Chapter 122: Sanctum XLVII


    As far as Elder Veldani and I can tell, this was likely an old staging ground for the Sanctum from long ago.


    Its thoroughly different from the layout at the heart. Maya noticed.


    True, Bacchus walked backward to point at her, nearly tripped, then thought better of it. Many of the structures were the sameapothecary, barracks, various resource processing areas. But no mercantile to speak of.


    Mother always told us to avoid broken chambers. But she could never really tell us the way. Completely unlike her. Mayas tail was wrapped around her arm.


    A warning likely born out of superstition, but a rare one, where following it is likely not bad practice, Bacchus admitted. If whatever design behind the Sanctum is displeased with an entire chamber enough to shunt it from the collective, it is likely best avoided by the rest of us. Not to mention the practical concerns. They are typically abandoned, wide open spaces with very little traffic. A combination that is the perfect refuge for giant spiders, drakesthere was even one in the lower strata packed to the dome walls with hibernating vivisectaurs.


    In other words, all things large, territorial, and angry. Jorra shuddered.


    Succinctly put. Bacchus nodded. But theres nothing to worry about. Ive done quite a bit of exploration in this chamber and nothing has even tried to eat me.


    There was a ruined tavern had a bar that faced out towards the street. It caught my eye, but then I thought I spotted a dark shadow moving behind it. Likely a ghost of my mind, but I angled that way, relaxing my eyes as the rangers had taught me.


    Hows that cat doing, Bacchus? I asked, still staring at the edge of the bar, my nerves climbing higher as we drew closer to it.


    Oh, Bevy? Shes quite well. Mother has a soft spot for pets, Bacchus said.


    I nearly snickered at the image of the intimidating and cold half-demon cooing over a common house cat. It struck me, how casually he spoke of her.


    And youre happy there? I asked him. Given her uh, vocation, Its quite the change of pace from a bookstore, I imagine.


    It is. Bacchus chuckled. At first, I wasnt sure. All sorts of shady types, coming and going. My first day in the district, I saw a red buy something from a cart-side vendor for more gold than Id ever seen in my life. And mothershe was nestled in my memory as this scary woman who paid me to stay away from my home. But she went out of her way to welcome me. Cooked every night for a week to celebrate.


    We got the same treatment. Maya, and then me. Kilvius went heavy on the good stuff. Jorra was practically salivating at the memory.


    Maya smiled. I cant believe they bought us Sceo. Its absurdly expensive. Theyre probably trying to make a good impression, knowing how dangerous things are here.


    A dark cloud came over us. Both for the friend that wed lost, and the uncertain future ahead.


    Its been rough, hasnt it? Bacchus asked quietly.


    For some more than others. Mayas mouth tightened. The statement felt, obliquely, like a shot at me. That didnt seem like her, but we were all suffering from weeks of accumulated fatigue and mental baggage.


    It surprised me when Jorra was the one to change the subject. Didno, he shook his head, does she have any friends or family? Anyone we need to notify?


    None that I know of. Maya sighed. She had interests, competitive dueling, a weirdly in-depth knowledge of religious history, but she always talked about us like we were her whole world.


    Mayas comment on religious history stirred a memory. The Void Temple. I realized.


    Thats right, Jorra glanced at me. That one time she ran away from Ralakoss estate. You somehow knew to find her there.


    I nodded, but felt a pang of sadness. Jorra would never the first time we really met Bell, when Erdos brought her to spar, or when we stumbled across her at the Void Temple several loops after.


    Bacchus, Maya took a few extra steps to catch up with him. I have a question for you, but feel it might be rude to ask.


    O-oh. What sort of question? Bacchus stammered, shifting to the side. Maya noticed, and did not try to close the gap. I smiled to myself. Probably not many female customers in that musty old bookshop.


    Its about lineage Maya trailed off, waiting for a cue. I almost stumbled.ething struck me in the jaw, and I staggered. Maya rubbed her hand, glaring at me in cold fury. It all makes sense now. Thats why you were so interested in Bacchuss progress. I have been running through it again, and again, trying to figure out the angle. And the truth is, you dont have one.


    Jorra looked between us, panic rising in his face. Youre giving up?


    Maya shook her head. No. Its worse than that. He intends to surrender. Hes being an idiot.


    I wanted to tell her that she was wrong. But my cold, calculated side of me screamed for me to be silent.


    Jorras fists balled, and for a moment, I thought I was about to take my second punch of the day. Then, he relaxed. Hes not being an idiot. Jorra turned to Maya. Losing Bell changed things. Hes trying to save us.


    I sighed. More than anything else, Thoth wants to hurt me. I dont know why. Honestly, I wish I did. Other than the crushing life lesson, the one thing I learned from Infaris is that we have a more complicated relationship than I realized. There might be something I can use there.


    Maya looked betrayed. She rounded on Jorra, standing less than an inch from his face. You saw her. How angry she was. You really think she will not just kill him on sight.


    Jorra considered. That level of anger is beyond what I can understand. Its not normal, or rational. But Cairnfor whatever reasonseems to understand her far better than we can. And Im assuming the surrender is a contingency, yes? Were still going to try? He cocked his head at me for confirmation.


    I nodded.


    Maya laughed, and placed her face in her hands. What a brilliant strategy, for when things get hard. To place yourself in the clutches of an enemy, yet again.


    Again? Jorra asked, confused.


    I stiffened as the words cut deep. Maya was alluding to the Asmodial situation, my capture and torture. I knew she wasnt trying to open old wounds. She was likely imagining what Thoth would do to me, and the guilt that would come with it, knowing how, in many ways, Id already been through hell for her.


    Im trying, here, I said, my voice quiet.


    We stood there, three points of a triangle. Maya was still seething. Jorra seemed aware there was some context he was missing, and as such, unable to help.


    The artifact lit up, a vibrant red. Taking a deep breath, Maya looked down at it, taken aback.


    Is that the exit? Jorra asked.


    That cant be right, Maya muttered, shifting the device around. Something is opening. That cant be right. Broken chambers are supposed to be cut off from any new branches.


    We followed the signal for a half mile, making a clear trail easy to follow back. The sinkhole opened beside us with a gasp of air, sucking in a current of fog. A scarlet hand reached out from the open grave, clear nails painted brown with dirt. Fog! Again?


    I watched in a combination of disbelief and awe as Bellarex, daughter of Erdos, hauled herself up and brushed off her armor. She turned and saw the three of us gaping. I found you!


    At that moment, as Jorra rushed towards her, and Maya followed only steps behind, I felt a great many things. Relief and happiness at seeing a friend I thought dead. Confusion, at how shed escaped Thoths clutches. And something else.


    Jorra was crying, snot dripping down his nose as he touched Bell everywhere, as if trying to convince himself she was real.


    Maya embraced her, hesitant at first, then relieved and happy.


    Welcome back, I said, absent anything more convincing.


    Bells story and explanation was a long one. It essentially boiled down to how Infaris had given her a cluean image. Something she hadnt understood at the time, and when Thoth had cut her off at the portal, that clue led her to the tunnel. But I wasnt really listening to the story. Instead, I watched her. The sweat accumulating on her brow, the way she kept touching her neck, how her tail was anchored firmly around her arm. How she couldnt seem to bring herself to look at me.


    And finally, I identified the last feeling, an animal instinct nestled underneath the rest. Dread. Because it was all too good to be true.


    But still, I waited. When we reached the exit that would inevitably take us to the heart, I pulled Bell aside for a conversation long overdue.

 Chapter 123: Sanctum XLVII

    Chapter 123: Sanctum XLVII


    The responsibility I was trusting her with was enormous. Something many would consider to be cruel. But it was the only way.


    You dont have to go through with it, I put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to me gently. Just tell me now, if you cant.


    No, Bell shook her head. It was my idea. I can do it. She turned her head up to look at me. But if theres any other way, please dont make me.


    There were footsteps behind us, and I quickly covered the scrawled lines in the dirt with my foot. Bellarex stood quickly and left, tilting her face away from Maya as she left.


    It is a mess out there. The Decarabia are all over the place. Theres no way were getting to The Heart without fighting our way through. Is everything alright? Maya watched Bellarex hurry by, then looked at me quizzically.


    Shes fine, I said. Mayas eyebrow rose. Will be, anyway. It was an ordeal getting back to us, and she wasnt sure she was going to make it. Its only naturally for her to be shaken.


    Mayas expression softened. I am glad shes safe. Perhaps it was wrong of me to ask you to go back. Premature.


    I waited for the other shoe to fall.


    Maya craned her neck, trying to catch sight of where the younger infernal had disappeared to. Anything off?This chapter is updated by


    I feigned ignorance. With what?


    Bell. The timing of her returning to us and amount of luck her story requires. Jorra is too overjoyed to notice, but Im guessing you that is why you pulled her away.


    There are things Bells not telling, I hedged, but shes still with us. And thats what matters.


    How familiar. Maya sounded distant. Youre not as clever as you think, Cairn. I know Jorra is wrong. You dont intend to surrender yourself to Thoth.


    I tapped my cheek. Ive got a growing bruise that says otherwise.


    Maya ignored me. But youre letting himletting usbelieve that you might, which, judging from recent history, means this is either all a misdirect or its intended to serve another purpose.


    As usual, Maya saw straight through me. The cold, ebbing tiredness sunk deeper until my very bones seemed to ache. A hum emitted from my augury ring, and it let out a dull glow.


    Maya stared down at hers. Shes hunting us, still.


    I preferred not to lie to her. I was tired of lying. So, I gave her the only solace I could. Grunting, I reached in my jacket pocket, pulled out a wrinkled envelope, and handed it to her. She took it from me, puzzled.


    What is this?


    Instructions. For after the battle, if things dont go our way.


    Mayas hand glowed green as she grasped my shoulder. No vein. Minor muscle damage. Youre good, Nilend.


    A demon rushed towards us, draggy a bloody polearm. Jorra reacted before anyone else, lashing out with his whip and catching the demon around the neck. Its mouth opened in surprise for just a second. Then Jorra lashed it downward, hard, and it landed head first on a patch of frozen spikes.


    Every demon near us was locked in combat. The pause wouldnt last long, but we had a moment to collect ourselves.


    The flying one throwing artillery spells is a problem. Jorra said. The whip snapped back, coiling over his arm.


    Kastramoth is in over his head, Maya squinted toward the center of the conflict, her face pained.


    Not to be cold, but cant you just use the contract to resummon? Jorra asked.


    Yes, but it wont be today. And we might need him today. Maya said.


    We only had a split second to decide. Both of you, go save the moose. Ill help Bell.


    On it. Signal if you need help. Jorra took a few short steps then sprinted away, Maya close behind him.


    Bell was still chasing the artillery demon, using shoulders, heads, and backs as stepping stones. As impressively acrobatic as it was, it wasnt sustainable. She was slowing down, faltering, nearly losing her balance. The artillery demon was moving more cautiously than it had before.


    Even while trying to keep to the path of least resistance, it took a great deal of effort to force my way through the center, fighting a never-ending current of teeth and claws.


    In the end, they ended up coming to me. The artillery demon traded range and accuracy for safety, rising beyond the point where even the highest jump could possibly put Bell in striking range. Bell abandoned trying to hit him with her sword altogether and instead began to fling her engraved weighted rods charged with void. As skilled as she was, her aim was nowhere near as strong as her swordsmanship, and her target was both fast and airborne.


    It struck me that, despite being surrounded by arguably stronger enemies, the demons attention had shifted almost entirely to Bell when she shifted strategy. Every spell he cast was aimed at keeping her away, knocking her off balance.


    Does he use magic to fly?


    The other one hadnt, but was far less mobile. There was something to that. Void had to be the key, but how could I help her land it? I looked for an opening. If I was better with air magic, it would have been a simple matter to lighten myself, ride an errant gust of wind into his blind spot and ground him with a cleave through his wings. But that was pure fancy. I needed to think realistically, use the tools at my disposal. My flash powder? No, the demon was literally eyeless, and I wasnt fool hardy enough to chalk that up to an aesthetic choice. Could I use the flame to scare him like Id done earlier, make him hesitate? Probably not. He seemed far more clever than the last demon and less likely to fall for it. I had a bag full of caustics and poisons, with no idea if any of them would be effective. Not to mention, he seemed to have an uncanny ability to dodge.


    A memory scratched at my mind from when I was trapped in the runic desert chamber, tossing pebbles charged with mana to lure Saladiuss monsters away. I reached in my bag, rummaging until I found the single smooth stone Id kept from the encounter to practice on.


    I spoke without sound, a now familiar buzzing tickling my vocal cords as my silent words crossed the distance to Bell.


    Make your way here. I need you to charge something, then create a diversion.


    Bell was smart enough not turn my way, but the exasperation on her face seemed to scream that she was tiring of doing exactly that


    Trust me.


    There was a curt nod of acknowledgment. And I began the process of cycling the flame, the very act that wounded my soul at the crossroads, years ago.

 Chapter 124: Sanctum XLVIII

    Chapter 124: Sanctum XLVIII


    But when I used the gauntlet against the decarabian arch-fiend, I was greeted with a familiar sensation. The sensation of being overfull, overcome by a capacity of power I could never hope to effectively wield. So, the gauntlet wasnt just protection for my body and a powerful defensive weapon. It was an extension and shield of my soul itself.


    Id been afraid of it. Gods. I was afraid of so many things. Falling to Thoth. Losing my family and the precious friends Id made.


    The flame grew larger, extending across the fire at my feet. I drew it in to the gauntlet and the flames vanished. Nearby demons took notice and skittered away. A lesser demon poked out towards me in fear, and I caught the shaft of his spear, shattering it into pieces. He ran.


    Over and over, I multiplied the flame, until it felt as if the gauntlet couldnt possibly take more. There was so much there. So much raw mana, so much raw potential. I couldnt possibly hold it forever. But I didnt have to. Fumbling my way through it, I began to filter the demon-flame out, leaving nothing but pure energy.


    Bellarex flew passed me, a blur of movement, her bare feet barely landing on the ground before she touched the rock I held with two fingers, charging it with violet void and disappeared, moving far too quickly to track. She ran up the side of a colossal greater demon and leapt high into the air.


    Too high.


    Bell hurled a void rod at the flying decarabia. It barely dodged, moving its head out of the way with a jerking movement. Bell seemed to float there for a moment, and then began a slow fall. I realized what shed done immediately. She was giving me an opportunity by opening herself up to an attack. From the sudden glowing in the demons hands and how it suddenly moved towards her instead of away, it clearly wasnt going to waste this chance.


    There was no time. Focusing air mana through my body, my legs, I stomped the ground, discharging it in the blink-step that Saladius had so painstakingly tried to teach me. I thread the needle through dozens of warring bodies, landing with a small stumble in the place I was aiming for. A beaten patch of grass on the outskirts of the scuffle, behind the flying demon. Bell was still falling, her expression terrified. The demon pulled its arm back, preparing to cast.


    I crushed the stone. All the energy that I stored came rushing out in a flood as I held my arm aloft, hand extended towards the demon as if I might grasp it out of the air, propelling the now pebble sized fragments in an explosion of glowing shrapnel.


    The reaction was instantaneous. The demon shrieked at the impact and, unable to control its considerable mass and momentum, plummeted to the ground. Bell killed it before it landed, lopping off its head with a monstrous two-handed swing.


    I grinned at her, and she smiled back, holding up her sword victoriously.


    Holy shit. That actually worked.


    Everything shifted. The Decarabia more than made up for the loss in numbers, but each individual demon seemed to be fighting more fiercely than before. The demon we felled must have ranked highly among the Decarabian Legion, They seemed to want to retreat, but would not do so until the order was given. That level of dedication was always dangerous, even among enemies that were not, effectively, immortal.


    I did what I could to even the tides. Blinded their lieutenants with flash powder. Set fires at their feet, controlled race across the grass and panic them, pushing them into the air where our ranged forces could pepper them appropriately. More asmodials trickled in, bolstering our number, but I realized with growing dismay that our side was simply less disciplined than theirs. The asmodials would commit to any scuffle, however lopsided, and this was a situation where their fierceness would not work in their favor. Occasionally, they beat the odds. Mostly, they just fell.


    I fought harder, shielding a pair of asmodials from a massive spell with my gauntlet, throwing myself into them and detonating the spell amongst their number like a living bomb. I repeated this several times, only barely managing to maintain my shield until it finally cracked on the last attempt, the explosion stunning me and knocking me flat. Hands pulled me up before I could recover.


    Jorra and Bell flanked me. Jorras whip snaked out, lashing at bodies, eyes, and necks. He panted and strained with the effort. Should we run?


    No, Bell said immediately, Right now the asmodials are covering us. The enemy has many flying casters, and theyre targeting us. We wont make it thirty yards.


    Theres too many, I said, rubbing the dirt from my face, finding the debris red instead of brown. Apparently, Id hit my head harder than I thought.


    Jorra shook his head. We have to do something. Well die if we stay here.


    Wheres Maya? I asked.


    With Kastramoth. Healing some asmodial greater demons.


    That was smart. The asmodials were barely organized with their generals. Without, theyd fall apart completely. I scanned the chaos until I found her.


    Dammit. There. Go, go! I started to run.


    Maya braced against the back of a greater demon, healing him as a cluster of decarabia rained down spells. The demon was screaming, his wounds reopening as quickly as they closed. If he fell before we got there, it was over. All of this had been for nothing.


    The fire on my sword grew so hot it was almost unbearable. They were immune to the fire itself, but not the heat.


    I sliced through a smaller demon that darted forward to intercept me, bisecting it from shoulder to waist, shielding my eyes from the gush of ichor.


    Bell, nearly there, was snatched out of the air by a flying demon who carried her high before she managed to free herself. She hit the ground hard, out of harms way but stunned by the fall.


    See if you can find a way around Jorra was cut off when a greater demon lashed out. He ducked the lance, but took the knee to the face that followed, barely rolling clear of the follow-up blows.


    The greater demon sneered and sprinted after me. His wings were small, likely only decorative given the substantial body mass.


    I blinked, again and again, only evading when I absolutely had to. Superficial wounds began to add up into something substantial. The deeper wound on my leg was still bleeding. It wasnt sustainable. Maya watched me, and for a moment, I saw pride in her face. Then it changed to horror.


    Im so sorry


    Nethtari grabbed me, pulling me in.


    You did well. Her monotone was low, raspy.


    But this is my fault


    Stop it. Stop blaming yourself for things that are beyond you. The actions of people entirely out of your control. This was chaos, beyond what anyone could have expected. Yet, you brought them back to me. You did well. Nethtari said fiercely.


    I let my face sink into her shoulder, a long held weight finally lifting off me. It wasnt an absolution I deserved. A forgiveness I deserved. But I was so tired of holding on to it.


    A few moments later, we all parted awkwardly. I wiped away the sweat and dust that had accumulated.


    Theyre not leaving, Theros said, his voice grim. He was staring out towards the edge of the chamber, where a small host had assembled.


    I expect they arent, Morthus replied, moving beside him slowly, the cost of engaging in battle at his age clear to see. Theyre regrouping. Waiting for their commander. Weve only bought time.


    Is everything ready? I asked.


    Oh yes. Walk with me, Morthus said. I looked back at Nethtari, and she offered me a sad smile.


    Well catch up later. I promise.


    I nodded, not having the cruelty within me necessary to tell her how unlikely that was.


    We started towards the camp. I took Morthuss arm, supporting him. Unable to help myself, I glanced back, stealing one more second. Bell had linked back up with Jorra, and all four of them were trailing behind us.


    And here I was, hoping to see you swing that sword around, I joked.


    Its bad form to bully an old man, princeling.


    Perhaps. I closed my eyes. Any chance we can all just escape through the passage the reinforcements used to get here, and all of this is unnecessary?


    Unfortunately, no. There were apparently supposed to be more of them. After the outsiders, Morthuss people included, realized almost immediately they would not be able to disable the barrier, they took a more systemic approach. It took them nearly this long to find a chamber weak enough from the outside. Once they had, it began closing almost immediately, and there was only time to get some of them through.


    Of course. I blew air through my teeth. That would be too convenient.


    All the preparations have been made.


    The demons made it back? I asked.


    Your demon, as well as Arch-Fiend Ozra.


    My eyebrow raised. Im surprised he came.


    He is still recovering, but likely knows that his presence will contribute to a standoff.


    How is everyone in the camp? I asked.


    Morthus sighed. Well, most of them made it. It was chaos when I arrived, but Ive organized them, helped designing the defenses. Made sure they know exactly who the enemy is, that she sought to harm the prime leyline, and that you and your companions stopped her.


    I looked at him, confused. But she didnt.


    Morthus waved my comment away. Complicating detail. Youll learn its better to omit those with age. Important part is, there will be no swords pointed at your neck when you arrive. Theyre prepared for war.


    /////


    Sometime later, I stepped out onto a simple podium erected in the center of the heart. Hundreds of faces stared back at me, many of them far too young, confused, scared. I was no stranger to speaking publicly, but the nerves never really went away. And it didnt matter that this particular time was perhaps the most crucial and simultaneously unfamiliar. I had sought to beseech at the council meeting. To spite at my own coronation. But the goal of this speech was far more significant and complex. I saw Bell at the foot of the stage, her face grim. Maya and Jorra were further back next to Nethtari, watching, waiting to see what Id been withholding for so long.


    I took a deep breath, and began to speak.

 Chapter 125: Sanctum XLIX

    Chapter 125: Sanctum XLIX


    It was impossible to say anything uplifting in the rain. The best you could hope for was inspiring, cathartic, and even that was difficult when everything looked so damn grim. Every so often, it felt like the world itself was against me. But that didnt matter. They were all watching me now, waiting. Morthus stood at my side, lending authority I hadnt truly earned. I looked back to where I saw my friends. Bell was buried in Jorras shoulder. Shed been so strong, stronger than all of us, perhaps, but it was all catching up. Everyone had a limit, and Bell had found hers. Jorra was trying to comfort her in the way those with limited experience did, gently patting her head and holding her loosely, utterly confused yet still wanting to help. Maya and Nethtari stood side-by-side, stoic beacons in the dark. Both had seen me at my most desperate.


    In the back, I saw both Vogrin and Ozra. Id been worried Ozra would be too angry about his defeat, but when Id spoken to him during preparations, I found him almost visibly chastened, willing to listen and cooperate. I wondered how long it had been since the Arch-Fiend had lost a battle.


    And Maya, in particular, was waiting for the other shoe to fall. I had wanted to warn her. To say goodbye, at the very least. But Maya was my dearest friend, and I hers. She would try to stop me, if I gave her an opening.


    It was better this way.


    It was most assuredly better this way.


    Golden strands fell before my face and I brushed my hair back once more, pressing down, trying to make sure it stayed free. Maybe it was the rain, or the atmosphere, or the fact that they had all seen perhaps their first real battle from afar, but it was unnerving how silent my audience was. There were many I recognized among them. The Precepts that had guided us into the Sanctum that first day that felt so long ago. A few of the surviving mercenaries were there, scowling, but also quiet, any protest limited to a low muttering amongst themselves. Mostly, I saw an endless sea of young faces, frightened, afraid, and looking for hope. Trapped.


    I couldnt give them hope. It wasnt within my power to make the world any less terrifying. But I could give them a way forward. And if I did it right, I could give them a story they would carry back with them. To the Enclave, to their families, and the world beyond.


    Theros approached me from the side. The Decarabia are moving. Slowly, but gaining ground.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    The asmodials are staying clear?


    Theyre setting up defensively in front of The Heart. But theyre staying back. No one wants to mess around when the generals here. Theres a thin elven-looking woman upfront. Is that really her?


    I nodded in irritation. Thoth was moving more quickly than I expected. Now, on top of everything else, there was a tight time limit.


    Theyre waiting, my friend, Morthus prompted me.


    I moved forward then, approaching the edge of the podium. A young, red infernal clutching the hand of an older violet stared up at me, blinking the rain from his eyes. I gave him a small smile.


    Ready to go home? I asked him.


    He nodded vigorously.


    I looked up at the crowd, amplified my voice with a bit of air magic.


    Most of you know me only by name, and the words I have spoken. I am Cairn, son of Gil. The tyrant who stripped your lands from you, enslaved your people. The twisted king who sundered the dimension gate, decimating families in the process. In exchange for entrance into the enclave, and later this very sanctum, I promised to return that which was stolen.


    I held the flame out in front of me, watching as it flickered, raindrops splattering my palm. There was a murmur in response. In the back, I saw Nethtari give me a subtle eye-roll that seemed to prod me to quit the theatrics and get to the point.


    I had every intention of fulfilling that promise. Our peoples have warred and wounded each other for the better part of a century. It only follows that mending the gap would be difficult, almost impossible, perhaps. We are so divided, so different. Yet, while Ive been here, Ive found so much in common. Friendship. Even love.


    I glanced at Maya, then looked away.


    At the core of all things, we are the same. And yet, unity is never easy. There will always be outside forces. Mitigating factors. Villains. You met one the day I entered the Sanctum. Thoth, a magician so powerful she can enter and leave this place at will, regardless of her age. A conqueror so twisted and powerful that even the gods are given pause. A being powerful enough to bend an arch-fiend to her side.


    I pulled Jorra to me. Take care of Maya for me, brother.


    Jorra sobbed. I will. And Ill never join Thoth, Cairn. Even if everyone else does.


    Maya stepped in my path, her eyes red. What are you doing? All this melodrama for nothing when we both know youll just reset. Several people next to us slowed, their faces glazed over.


    Not this time. I let my gaze slide to where Ozra stood, and Maya followed it then returned to mine, her face a mask of terror.


    What have you done?


    I pressed my forehead to hers. Goodbye, Nilend.


    Maya shook her head violently. No. No. Find another way.


    There is no other way.


    Ill never forgive you for this.


    It broke my heart. I know.


    Nethtari pulled Maya away, and it was suddenly obvious I still had an audience. The other infernals still followed, and I realized why. Theyd taken me seriously, when I asked them to keep watch. I caught one more glimpse of Maya weeping into her mother''s robe.


    There will be no second chance. Thoths voice, cold, amplified. Send the human out or kill him yourselves.


    I shivered, and nearly slipped in the mud. Jorra caught my arm, steadying me. Easy.


    Feeling real regal right now. I muttered.


    You got this. Just stick the landing. Jorra followed behind me as we approached the gate. The infernals followed behind us, surprising me as the left the gates themselves behind, piling out onto the hill and forming into natural lines.


    Thoth was at the bottom of the hill, her golden eye glinting wickedly, daggers held in both her hands. Her golden arch-fiend stood motionless behind her like a statue, his face tilted slightly towards Ozra.


    Thoth growled, deep in her throat. So youve finally accepted the inevitability of it all. Did our spat at the leyline knock it into you?


    I had nothing to say. Her aura bared down on me, invisible wraiths of rage and anger threatening to press me into the ground. Thoths mouth turned downward. I dislike being ignored.


    I learned much of your strength, I said.


    So this is a surrender, then.


    Not exactly, I drew my sword. Moisture bounced off my blade, raindrops incinerating with a hiss as I held it at my side, letting the blade touch grass and race backwards, trailing a large circle around us.

 Chapter 126: Sanctum XLX

    Chapter 126: Sanctum XLX


    Theres no nobility in it. And posture all you want, but I know you wont kill them. Theyre not humans, and you eventually want them on your side.


    I think Thoth considered one of her daggers, There might be a misunderstanding of how badly youve fucked things for me, Cairn. Certain events need to happen within specific windows, and my little resurgence of interest in you has cost me in that regard. If I mark this one off as a loss, it doesnt matter what I do.


    If you can afford to lose the time. I tried to manage my reaction. Fear would entice her, goading her much the same.


    A better question. Thoth extended the knife towards me, its blackened edge glinting in the low light. How far back do you remember? A dagger darted passed my face, stopping a millimeter from Jorras eye, where it floated menacingly. Jorras face hardened. He crossed his arms behind him and stuck out his chest. Another knife planted its point in my spine.


    Lie to me and I start with the boy, Thoths face was void of emotion. Hes useful, eventually, but I dont like him that much.


    There was a wave of disapproval that went through the crowd behind us. They might not have been understand the conversation, but they could see the knife. With as well as Thoth seemed to know me, there was no question that lying would be folly.


    I told her the truth. That I only remembered the previous life. Somewhat surprising me, she asked for details. Dates. The more information I gave, the less happy she appeared.


    Sweat dripped down my arms and back in slow, repetitive rivulets.


    No. Thats wrong, Thoth finally said.


    Deep within, I began to panic. Im telling the truth


    Someone, Thoth interrupted me, looking up at the sky as if trying to catch a glimpse of an errant cloud. Is screwing with both of us.


    I blinked. You mean, like, a god?


    Yes But theyre being really oblique about it and its pissing me off. Thoth chewed her lip. It shouldnt matter. But these little inconsistencies add up, right?


    Unsure whether the question was rhetorical or otherwise, I shifted on my feet. Thoths serpent eye snapped to me immediately, the other following behind slowly.


    Still on high alert. Not nearly as relaxed as she looks.


    Im not following, I admitted.


    Thoth sighed. Last iteration was a peach. No civil insurrections, no last-minute betrayals. Everyone followed orders. And when it was time to slaughter the humans and sing campfire songs, everyone went above and beyond.


    Sounds almost the same to me.


    Thoth began to pace. Watching her strange, fluid movement was enough to make my head hurt. No. What you described happened some time ago. No idea when, but it certainly wasnt last time. Because last time, I cut your arms off. Told you Id let you live if you made it down the stairs. That was Thoth cackled. Fun. Puerile, but fun.


    I ignored the cruelty of the statement, focusing on the bones of it. If there was a gap between my memories of the last loop and the current one, what were the implications of that? I didnt know.


    Okay, one down, two more to go. Lucked out this time, you little bastard. Next question. Thoth pulled the knife back with a dramatic wave, letting it do a slow circle until it landed right in front of Bell. It pressed up against her neck. At the leyline. Do you have some artifact? Some way of reading me?


    I closed my eyes. You were never going to let us go.


    No, I just needed time. But the question is, how did you know that?


    Thats wrong, I contradicted carefully. Even though I suspected how short any truce was likely to be, I wanted to take it.


    Thoth waited, looked over to Ozra, then back to me. She broke out into laughter. Ah. The demon screwed you over. How quaint. Thoth turned and faced her Arch-Fiend, leaving her back open. I nearly darted forward, then, but held myself back.


    Stick to the plan.


    They do require something of a firm hand. Asked and answered. Once again, Thoth made a wide motion and the blade retreated, sailing through the air, whizzing behind me towards the demons. They parted, revealing a red infernal bound in chains.


    Bacchus. My heart sank.


    The older boy was quivering in the cold, bits of moisture accumulating on his spectacles. His teeth chattered. Terror shone through him as the knife pressed against his chin, pushing up slowly, forcing him to stand.


    Sorry Cairn.


    What happened? I asked, devastated.


    They found me on my way back. Bacchus shivered.


    Its not your fault, I said, suddenly much less in control than I was less than a minute ago. Im sorry you were dragged into this.


    I shouldnt have come here. I should have never left the bookstore. Bacchus broke down in sobs.


    Its gonna be okay, Bacchus.


    But I knew it wouldnt be. With me gone, Thoth needed anyone with demon-fire off the board. This entire thing had been planned out. The first two questions were easy, meant to establish a pattern. Whatever she had saved for last would be the hook.


    And now, the final question. Thoth leered at me.


    Let it be heard.


    How


    Sworn to all gods, high and low. To the whisperers in the deep places. To demons and angels alike.


    The hells


    One day Ill kill you, Thoth.


    Over and over and over Thoth mouthed.


    I wondered, then, about the so-called betrayal she wore like a shroud. It seemed so strange and out of character to even imagine myself stabbing an ally in the back. But what if it had been nothing so direct. What if my will simply broke, and I gave up? That I could imagine. Id experienced it, after all, more than once.


    Im sorry. Truly.


    No. You made me what I am. And for that, I am grateful. Thoth flexed her arms.


    I couldnt even imagine what she meant. What happened?


    Thoth shook her head. Not yet. And I havent forgotten.


    Suffer, as I have suffered.


    Two minutes left? I guessed.


    One. Thoth vanished from my sight.


    Duck


    I listened to the voice far before I realized it was Vogrins, dropping as a whirling fury of blades passed over me.


    Sweep right, now.


    Without even bothering to look, I swung to my right. Hit. Thoth danced away, quenching the spreading flame from her armor. She looked disturbed, off-balance.


    I heard Jorra whoop in excitement, yelling out encouragement along with his sister.


    The rain washed the rose oil off her armor


    I expanded the circle inward, flames greedily consuming the grass. Thoth swiped a hand downward contemptuously, sending the fire back towards me. Unwilling to risk doing the same, I held the gauntlet out and consumed the flame, holding it out and releasing it in a burst of fire in the same motion.


    Thoth stabbed out at me and barely missed a blow that should have landed, blade diverted. She glanced down at her dagger with a frown.


    I saw Ozra lower his arm. He must have misdirected the blow. Foolish as it was, hed given me an opening.


    I summoned a burst of flash-powder before she could rally, partially blinding her, and Thoth retreated. For a moment, I thought I might be making headway. That somehow, the gods had heard me, and the fight was turning in my favor.


    I breathed in a patch of the fire that was growing behind me, a mass of flame and mana that filled me. In one massive burst, I released it, hoping to wound her.


    Then Thoth reached out, and the cone of fire froze in place. I didnt even have time to think about how impossible that was. Then, a half dozen shards of ice reversed direction and skewered me. My body screamed as I collapsed into the grass, choking, gagging as blood burbled freely from my mouth.


    Thoth hovered over me. Just seconds shy. How tragic. But there was none of the manic joy from the last time she killed me.


    There was a primal scream, and tilted my head to see Maya, fighting to get to me as her mother pulled her away.


    Jorra sat yards away, staring at me, his hand on his whip. He met my eyes, silently begging for permission. I shook my head, and watched as he clenched a fistful of mud, his head hung. Thoth waved her bandaged hands over a ceremonial knife: black and gold trimmings on the handle, and a bright steel blade. It glowed green as it had so many years ago, so many years from now, at the night of the coronation.


    I- I swallowed a mouthful of my blood. I wish I could remember. When we fought the darkness together. When we were friends.


    Thoth stiffened. Then she laughed darkly. And here I am wishing more than anything else to forget it. To forget everything. Just like you. Lucky, lucky you. However you got out of it last timehowever you managed to rememberit will never happen again. Youll startle awake on that carriage, blissfully unaware that any of this ever happened. Not a care in the gods damned world.


    Thoth slid the dagger in, directly above the first one. Just like before, it was almost painless. Then she stood, wiped her hands on her leather armor, and turned back to the Infernals.


    The human failed you. I seldom give a second chance, but Im in a sentimental mood. The sing-song lilt of her voice was gone. Kill him or face the consequences.


    For a long moment, no one moved.


    Then, someone stood. The reaction from the crowd was instantaneous, a mix of scorn and vitriol. Bellarex, her face slack, eyes red, began a slow walk towards us.


    Bellarex, daughter of Erdos. If you continue to walk this path, you will be exiled. Morthus boomed out, standing in the midst of the crowd.


    Thoth made a gesture with two fingers towards Morthus, and the Decarabian arch-fiend shot a lance of white magic shot in a high arc, blisteringly fast. It struck Morthus in his core. The old man collapsed unceremoniously, his eyes wide open.


    Dont tell anyone, but I snuck in some contraband.


    I cried out, the sound bubbling and muted.


    Bells sword dragged on the ground behind her as she made the long, long walk. Jorra and Maya were screaming at her, their voices almost unintelligible in the rain. Bells face was a mask of pain and agony as she looked around as if shed forgotten where she was, suddenly very, very lost.


    Well, would you look at that? Someone finally grew a mind of their own. Thoth smiled.


    Bells lip trembled. C-c-cairn? I dont wanna do this.


    Really, Thoth looked between us, completely focused. Even after everything you told me, you still feel for him? He took your father from you. Your only blood.


    Bell shook her head vehemently, her entire body trembling.


    With all the strength left in me, I summoned the air, using it to carry my words to her ears.


    Youre the only one that can. I tried, Bell. This is the only way.


    It took two tries before she summoned the strength. Bell raised her sword, and with a wounded cry, brought the blade down.

 Chapter 127: Interlude: Bellarex I

    Chapter 127: Interlude: Bellarex I


    Her opponent, a violet infernal with moderately powerful fire magic had been goading her for weeks before the bout. Her fathers position should have reasonably insulated her from the psychological assaultthe Honor Guard of a High Councillor was generally not a person to be trifled with. But it was common knowledge her father didnt care for Bell much.


    Bell knew this most of all. She had been born with a great debt. Her mother endured a long labor to bring her into this world, an effort that proved too much for her in the end. And when she lay there, awash in blood and viscera that blended with the color of her skin, her debt grew. She was a red, born to two violet parents. It was an uncommon shame, but not unheard of.


    It was hard at first, before she could understand. Her father told her early on that she killed her mother, but Bell didnt know what that meant. The words held little weight. Erdos was practically a stranger, leaving home for days at a time, seldom returning. Her first source of love and affection came from her nanny, Shawure. The woman was eventually fired after a string of valuables went missing and never replaced. Shawure came to the estate garden for weeks after the dismissal to bring Bell treats and see how she was doing. But the visits slowed after a few months, eventually stopping completely.


    There were still people in the house sometimes after that, mainly tutors, and cooks. Bell learned that if she pleased them, studied hard or praised their cooking, they would show her affection in return. But the attention was never given as freely as her nanny once had. And there were long spans of time when Bell was alone.


    She began to climb trees around the estate, searching for birds. They were rare in the enclave, but the sounds they made were so pleasant, so lovely and free. Other children had pets, after all. If she could just find one, she could perhaps convince it to come home with her. And the house would be not so quiet. As Bell climbed countless trees and found many birds of all colors and species, she realized quickly that they were not amenable to even the most banal persuasion.


    Bell captured her first bird, trapping it with a simple fishing net. Her prize A vibrant blue pratin with a song that sounded like ever-descending notes, a half-step apart. Bell named the bird Sunrise, after the mythical orb beyond the enclave that gave those on the surface light. Bell fed Sunrise bits of bread and fruit, and in return, its song cheered her through the colder season.


    When the cold faded as bhaedent arrived, however, the bird became anxious. Irritable. It refused to perch near her, pecking at her hands when she attempted to feed it. Eventually, it escaped into from her room into the estate itself.


    Bellarex was inconsolable. This had never happened before. She tried recapturing it with the net, but the halls and ceilings of the estate were simply too high, and unlike the trees outside, there was nothing for her to climb on. Ignored her tutors. Stopped eating. All she could focus on was her bird and the possibility it might escape through an open door.


    Eventually, Erdos returned, irritated with the many reports given by servants and tutors. She begged him to save the bird, but he ignored her, using a simple blast of fire to knock the bird out of the air.


    Bell covered the bird with her body, neck craned up to face father, an entirely new emotion crashing through her. Why, Daddy?


    It was being a pest. Erdos shrugged. The words seemed so cold, so callous. You should have been focusing on your studies instead of bringing vermin into the house.


    He was my bird. My pet.


    Her father brushed a hand through his hair, looking more inconvenienced than anything else. Well, sometimes, Bellarex, life takes away things you care about. If you took care of it better, kept it in your room or wherever you hid it away, we wouldnt be in this situation.


    You killed him. Bellarex accused.


    No, Erdos shook his head. Thats your job.


    What?


    Look at it, Bellarex.


    With a hollow pit in her stomach, Bellarex looked down at the bird. Its entire body was singed, its once vibrant plumage burned away to reveal raw red skin. It made small noises in a sad imitation of its once bright song.


    It wont last long, Erdos continued.


    What about a healer? Bell asked through teary eyes.


    Erdos rolled his eyes. Even if the healers had time for such trifles, they cant regrow feathers.


    But


    If you care for it, its your responsibility to end its suffering. Or dont. Not like it matters to me. Just take it outside, so I dont have to hear that damn squawking. With that, her father departed, his destination unknown and undisclosed.


    Ah. He was still awake when I went to bed.


    Might as well get warmed up. Jorra began to stretch.


    Bell blinked. She had been certain the boy was deferring to Cairn, and the moment he had her alone the looks of judgment and distrust would begin. Shouldnt we wait for him?


    Nah. Hes not a fan of stretching.


    Is it okay for me to be here? Bell asked, finally, unable to stand waiting.


    Why wouldnt it be okay? Jorra asked, raising an eyebrow.


    Im a void mage.


    Yeah, Jorra chuckled. And a kickass one at that. Im still exhausted after yesterday.


    Bell was perplexed. Of all the reactions to her element shed encountered, this was not one of them.


    Look, Jorra released his arms from an upward stretch. I know why youre asking.


    Bell waited, fearing the worst.


    Void isnt the strongest element, or the most flashy. The other concern from a tactical standpoint is if theres nothing to void out, theres very little for a void user to do.


    I


    But, Jorra continued, Its incredibly useful when youre up against anything with magic, which we will be, in the Sanctum. And if we fight against anything without magic, youre probably the best martial fighter out of the three of us. Frankly, I dont know why anyone wouldnt want you on their team.


    Oh. Bell was overwhelmed, unsure of how to respond.


    Jorra eyed her. But seriously, you want to stretch. Cairn is brutal on the training field.


    I can take him, Bell joked.


    You havent seen him when hes backed into a corner. Jorra scowled. He cheats.


    Okay. All throughout the exercise, Bell was waiting for the levy to break. But Jorra never snapped at her, made her feel anything less than welcome.


    A few weeks later, shed realized how much she was missing. Her circle of friends grew quickly, Cairn, then Jorra, then Maya. Bell found the older infernal so beautiful and stern looking it was almost intimidating. But they all cared for her. Listened to her when she had an observation, gave her advice when she struggled.


    Friends. Real friends.


    All throughout those early months, Bell held a piece of herself back. Knowing that there must be a reason Cairn picked her, of all people. But over time that piece became smaller and smaller.


    It was almost gone completely.


    Then, she met Infaris.

 Chapter 128: Interlude: Bellarex II

    Chapter 128: Interlude: Bellarex II


    Erdos is the only loose end. Cairn looked so haggard in the memory that Bellarex barely recognized him. He was slumped over in Ralakoss sitting room, staring at the fire.


    Seems rather cold, even if you do see him as your enemy. Ralakos stirred his tea, his gaze never leaving the bedraggled prince.


    Cairn put his face in his hand and laughed. The sound was harsh, cruel. You think I want this? Any of it? And you speak of him as if he is just my enemy. Hes your man, Elder. Sworn to your service. What would you do in my place, then?


    Ralakos cocked his head, deep in thought. Speak to him. Over a long span of time, perhaps. Until the core conflict that caused him to stray became clear.


    And even if you managed to take him without her knowing, what would you do with him? Cairn mocked. Place him in Guemons cells?


    The thought had crossed my mind.


    After the stink you raised during my hearing, how much political capital would that lose you?


    A silence filled the room.


    Ephira played all of us. You, the council. Me most of all. She is a master manipulator. And by making Erdos her deadmans switch, she put him in this position. This is on her. All of it.


    Bell looked between the man who had taken her in, and the human who gave her new purpose, trying desperately to understand. This wasnt like them. They had never been anything other than good or kind.


    Ralakos set his tea aside, looking at it distastefully. I understand the stakes. His gaze shifted to Cairn. I also am perhaps one of few people capable of empathizing with the level of pressure you are under. That is the only reason I am entertaining this at all.


    This is the only way to ensure Ephiras schemes die with her. Otherwise, we are simply trading one end for another. One that will come from an enemy we dont know.


    And you are certain? Ralakos asked. If Ephira succeeds, the enclave will be sundered.


    Cairn sagged a bit, as if somehow, he had been asked this question far too many times. Yes. It doesnt matter who we ask for help. How well we prepare. If Ephira has her way everyone will die. He chuckled darkly. Maybe he wont fight, and you can have your conversation. But if it all goes poorly, my soul will already be damned. Let the guilt and responsibility lay solely on my head.


    /////


    Bellarex was lost, her mind warring in a horrible conflict. On one hand, Cairn had freed her from her debt. When her father died, she was no longer beholden to anyone. And though it was hard to count either Cairn or Ralakos among them now, she had made friends. Jorra and Maya had known nothing of the plot, and were the truest of companions. Her father had been scheming with Councilor Ephira against the Enclave, and if Ephiras plans came to fruition, many people would die.


    But Bellarex was so close to earning her fathers respect. His love. And perhaps, one day, making up for what she had taken away from him.


    And now that day would never come. Because of Cairn.


    What is your truth? Infaris asked.


    Bellarex wept in the crystal chamber. I thought he saw something in me. Maybe some of it was pity, at first. But he wouldnt have taken me into the sanctum with him if it was just pity. It had to be because I was useful. A good team member. I thought he was my friend. But it wasnt any of that. It was just guilt.


    Glimmers of a beautiful truth. But you assume too much child. Infariss light shined down, her rays bright, yet comforting. Bonds between mortals are not static. They shift and reform, like a windstorm among the desert dunes. Just because something begins imperfectly, does not mean it cannot one day be perfect.


    I dont understand, Bellarex said.


    One day you will. Infaris promised her.


    /////


    After what felt like an eternity of inner struggle, Bellarex decided. She would simply treat what she had learned as if it had never happened. It was what she did with her mother sometimes, when that reality became too much to bear.


    But it was not so easy. Cairn seemed to realize, immediately, that something had changed. He might have pressed her right then and there, if Maya did not struggle so painfully with her trial. He seemed so confident, so self-assured, despite all that he had done.


    As much as she wanted to hide from it, to tell herself it was nothing, Infaris had crippled her innate ability to lie to herself. And every time she imagined herself returning to Ralakoss estate, living side by side with the men who had planned her fathers death, it made her ill. She wished dearly for the days before the trial. She wished dearly to be purged of the so-called truth that Infaris held in such high regard.


    And that was why, after the battle and subsequent retreat from the sepulcher, when Bell felt a cold hand grasp the back of her robe before she could enter the portalBellarex did not fight. The idea of death did not frighten her anymore. If the weight of The Truth was not bearing down on her, perhaps she would have tried to enter the void-state, and escape from the mage.


    Thoth swore as the portal closed, swiping a clawed hand across the empty space in the clearing where it used to be. She took a step back and pushed her white hair back. After a moment of charged silence, she muttered to no one in particular. Oh yes. Youre dead, Infaris. Whenever I have time and energy to burn, this iteration or the next, youre very, very dead.


    Bell, who had been sitting still up to this point, stifled a laugh. Thoth spun to face her, blood still dribbling out of her wounded mouth, the healing not yet complete.


    You think this is funny? Thoth hissed.


    Bell shook her head vehemently, feeling very small as Thoths black aura washed over her. I dont like Infaris either.


    Oh. Thoth said, her aura receding. Fun times in the trial, then?


    Bell smiled bitterly. I hoped she might tell me why I was born like this. What the point of it all was.


    Because youre a clotted red? The slur hit like a slap. But strangely, the derision sounded more like a mockery of the words themselves. Thoth rolled her eyes. Gods. Why does every Infernal have an inferiority complex?


    A clotted red born of violet parents, with only the weakest element to speak of. The definition of inferior.


    So let me make sure I understand. Youre saying the weakest of all infernals, the absolute bottom of the barrel, scum of the sub-surface trashwas able to not only stand against me, but an arch-fiend as well? Thoths voice was dangerous.


    Youre the most powerful being Ive ever met, Bell said quickly, It was luck. And only a few minutes.


    Thoth, to Bellarexs surprise, smiled. If you knew how many have died at my hand, in much shorter times, you would not speak of a few minutes so lightly. And void? Well, lets just say the idea of it being the weakest element is nothing more than petty superstition. One of the strongest mages in Uskar has only one element. Void. And he built an empire off that power.


    Why Bell stopped, her mouth dry. Why are you being kind to me?


    Thoth shook her head. Some people deserve to suffer before they die. They live easy lives, existing in a cloud of ambivalence, considering themselves above it all. Their greedy souls remain whole, unblemished. It is them I shatter. Others those who live below the cloud? Thoth glanced at Bell. Need no further torment.


    Bellarex hadnt been able to hear much beyond the first sentence. Youre going to kill me, then? Bellarex asked.


    Bell wanted to explain. But the angry part of her wanted to see what he would do. Would he try to strike first, as he had at the Prime Leyline?


    No, Bell whispered.


    She got her hooks into you. Offered you something seductive. Something you couldnt say no to. Then she sent you here to kill me.


    And if youre right? Bells whole body tensed as Cairn began to move. His hands went to the strap of his satchel first, sliding it off his body and onto the ground. Then his scabbard landed next to it, along with his broken dagger.


    Then my path has ended. It was going to anyway. I wasnt ever going to get out of this, Bell. Dont get me wrong, I had no intention of going quietly. I was going to fight to my last breath. But if you decide to take my life, I wont stop you. I will not kill a friend for avenging what I took from her.


    Were we ever really friends? Bell whispered.


    Cairns brow furrowed. Listen to me. No matter what youve learned, what I told you at the cavern holds true. I went into this owing you a great debt. But I wasnt expecting to like you so much. Youre funny, and clever, and a brilliant fighter. I was proud to call you friend. Cairn looked down. Even if I have lost the right to do so.


    The dark anger within Bell drained away. Tension left her body. What do you mean, you were never going to get out of this?


    Cairn leaned against the cave wall, seeming to sense the change in mood. My days are numbered. I fucked up, at the leyline. When Ozra broke ranks and attacked her anyway, I knew Thoth would never forgive the sleight. But ultimately, I only made things worse. Its too far gone now. This place Cairn looked around, the tranquility of the Sanctum at odds with his words. Will be the end of me.


    Bell was shocked. I thought youd have a plan. Some scheme to beat her. Something.


    No. If theres a way, I havent found it yet, Cairn admitted. Honestly, Ive been trying to wrap my head around a way to get Maya and Jorra out of this alive. There are a couple of places we could hide themVeldanis, perhaps, or somewhere on the lower strata. But I have a feeling that Thoth would keep looking. Even after Im dead. A normal enemy doesnt bother with hostages after the target is dispatched, but Thoth is anything but normal.


    A vision of the Bird Bell had lost so many years ago flashed before her eyes.


    Theyre taken care of. Maya and Jorra.


    Cairn leaned forward slowly. Tell me everything.


    /////


    Bellarex focused on her breathing. In and out. In some ways, it was not so different from her days in the arena. Rain poured down in torrents, and she did not bother to shield herself. The ceaseless water pressed down her hair and obscured her vision. Enough that she could barely see the boy, bleeding and broken before her.


    It was hard to remember that Cairn was a child. He didnt carry himself like one. Nor did he share any of the childish impulsiveness common among children his age. Perhaps it was an aspect of his race, but Bell doubted that.


    He gasped for air, his breathing a wet rasp.


    If you care for him, its your responsibility to end his suffering.


    She heard him as if he was sitting standing beside her. This is the only way.


    Cairn hadnt asked her to reject Thoths offer. Hed encouraged her to take it. To observe the womans methods for herself and make her own decisions. And if she found them too despicable to stomach, she was to serve as a spy, reporting Thoths movements to Ralakos.


    It didnt take her long to decide. No matter what Cairn had done to her father, it had been out of necessity. This wasnt necessity. This was hate given form.


    Bellarex raised her sword. The crowd roared in anger.


    A voice screamed out. He trusted you! You fucking coward. You were our friend. He trusted you! Bell turned and saw Maya, being dragged away by her mother. Ill find you, Bellarex. You will pay for this. Youll pay in blood!


    And Bells debt grew. She bowed her head. Cairn insisted the others remain in the dark. That if anything was off from their reactions, anything suspect, Thoth would know. He said he would find a way to clear her name after the fact, with letters given to Maya and Jorra. But Bell knew the truth. They could never forgive her for this.


    But that was alright. Bell had always been alone.


    Cairn coughed up blood, wheezing, moaning as his organs shut down.


    If you care for him, its your responsibility to end his suffering.


    Bell raised her sword and brought it down hard. The cut was as kind as she could make it. The artery in his throat severed, vertebra in his neck pulverized.


    The sword slipped from Bells hand.


    Cairn shivered once.


    Then died.


    The crowd roared.


    I did it Cairn. I did what you asked.


    A rock hit Bell in the temple. She swooned on her feet from the blow, barely feeling the pain. Another struck her in the hip, the thigh.


    An errant glow covered the clearing as a shield erected before her, covering her from further assault. Thoth embraced her. The hands that felt so gentle before felt like iron.


    Well done, child. Thoth whispered, before she positioned herself before the crowd.


    Silence.


    The cries of anger ceased.


    And with this death, you now see the truth of your savior, Thoth droned on, beyond Bells sight. There is no one left with the demon-flame. No one who will restore your precious dimensional gate. No one but me. Thoth paced before them. You are angry now. But that anger will soon shift to something else. Desperation, ambivalence. One day, I will return. And you, along with your parents, and the rest of the infernal throng will join me. Just as this one has. A hand clasped Bells shoulder. And on that daydespite the many transgressions that have come to passI will make you whole again. For now, the barrier is gone. And you may all go home.


    A bitter murmuring ran through the crowd as they dispersed. Thoth made a slow, casual retreat. Bell paused, trying to make sense over the expression on Cairns face. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, or a trick of the light. But he was almost smiling.


    Come child. Thoth called to her. Your new life awaits.


    Bell followed the arch-mage into the darkness beyond.

 Chapter 129: Interlude ? (Sanctum Epilogue)

    Chapter 129: Interlude ? (Sanctum Epilogue)


    The Black Beast watched from the Celestial darkness on the happenings below. He was neither the designer of the elaborate machine, nor an actor within it. He was simply its keeper. As the many centuries rolled on, one after another, he performed his duties stalwartly and without complaint. But even he was not without desire.


    Which was why when Archeon had interfered, electing to bring the boy prince back into the cycle, the Black Beast had nearly sighed. He did not, of course. Such an outpouring of emotion after a near millennium of stoicism would be the equivalent of a mortal running around in a circle, screaming. Still. It was a close thing.


    The boy prince was simply unsuited for the role. What he was before might have sufficed, but now the prince was only a child. In mind and body.


    What were Archeons intentions?


    The question was ever present as The Black Beast watched the boy, with curiosity at first. His first few deaths had come as a surprise, as an explanation of his reintroduction into the cycle had not come until sometime after them.


    Still, the Black Beast took his duties seriously. When the prince had nearly cracked among the infernals the first time, the Black Beast made sure he knew what his purpose was. When he more recently began to abuse his power, repeatedly killing himself to save a favored group of children, the Black Beast took corrective action to ensure his pointless repetitions did not serve as an unnecessary drain on the cycle.


    Yet, his warning went unheeded. The prince seemed to take it as a challenge, refusing to partake of his power at all, even as everything degenerated around him.


    That was fine. The black beast would simply wait until his inevitable death. Study the timeline. And eventually reinsert the prince at a later point that was still marred by the stubbornness of his actions. A harsh lesson, but one taught effectively.


    Morthus was the only wrinkle. As with all the progenitors, The Black Beast could never observe Morthus directly. It was a built-in restriction, one that irked the beast in no small fashion.


    Naturally, the Prince spent a great deal of time with Morthus this cycle, irritating the beast further. Their first meeting, from what the beast could tell, was largely uneventful. A simple passing of information that had occurred many times before. But their second meeting was a much bigger question mark. Afterwards, the boy began to hint at his demise to his companions, an action that made little sense to the beast.


    Obviously, the prince could not die in any manner apart from temporarily. He knew that as well as the beast himself did. So, his actions came across as both out of character and strangely cruel.


    In the ancient cycles, the prince was capable of monstrous cruelty. But his actions were intentional. Always serving a greater purpose. This, in comparison, seemed to serve no purpose at all.


    Morthus and the prince had their third meeting in the Sanctums heart, an interaction that was shielded from the beast once more.


    The beast watched what followed in detached fascination as the prince created a dramatic scene, rallying strangers and friends behind him alike in a climactic moment that might have been stirring if the beast was capable of emotion. The beast had observed many such scenes in his time. It had all the hallmarks of a martyrdom. An emotional appeal, a humbled hero who sacrifices himself for something greater, and a tragic end.


    And the Lynchpin had made a grave miscalculation. Perhaps she was off-balance from the close call at the ambush, or was finally consumed with rage to the point she was too sloppy to recognize the maneuver for what it was. She recruited the girl as a way to twist the killing knife. But the fact that it was an infernal who struck the prince down was the masterstroke that made it all the more poignant. The Infernals as a people were proud. They would carry a great guilt from their betrayal. Even if it was only one of them that swung the blade.


    The beast let time carry on, curious, inspecting the individuals in the crowd. Most were ordinary. But one by one, the spark of fate within them glowed brighter. And among the crowd, the light of his three companions glowed most brightly of all.


    And if there were a sensible human leader for them to rally behind, that might have mattered. But there wasnt. And even if there was, it still wouldnt matter. Because the prince had died. His modified cycle would resume


    Where?


    The beast considered. There were aspects of this scenario that were advantageous. The lynchpins anonymity was gone. With the early revelation of her demonic backing, many previously quick to dismiss the idea of an arch-mage would consider her a serious threat. But there was no way the beast could see to keep this intact, no matter how many iterations he gave the prince.


    No. The ideal starting point was the one the prince feared most. It would be before the lynchpin had been derailed. His companions would die, it was almost certain. And the lesson would be learned.


    I am beyond you. The beast growled.


    Maybe. Cairn admitted. Then his face changed, his eyes colder than a blizzard night. But you wont always be.


    And remembering once more, the prince of the ancient cycles, the beast felt a sliver of something that might have been fear.


    I have answered your question. Now answer mine. You are both alive, and not alive. Explain.


    Cairn rubbed his neck. I had no idea what to do for a while. I kept coming back to it, over and over. There was no way Thoth was leaving me alive after what I did. Shed burn down the entire sanctum first. Either she died, or I did. Neither of those were acceptable solutions. So, I needed to deceive her somehow. Then it came to me. Remember the first iteration at the Enclave?


    I do not forget.


    Someone used my likeness to slaughter Mayas family. They wanted it to look like I turned on them, that I was somehow allied with the Asmodials. It was different from typical illusory magic because it was a hard illusion, capable of direct physical harm. Over the many many loops, I eventually tracked it down.


    The Black Beast began to understand. The Illusory Scepter.


    A legendary artifact. Since the demons hoard them, I figured that was the last Id ever see of it. But after Ozras massive fuckup, I convinced him to let me borrow it back.


    Morthus was present when this took place?


    Yes. Cairn looked crestfallen at the mention of the fallen elder. It was his idea to have the demons transplant my soul into the illusion. Thoth is clever. We wanted to avoid taking any chances.


    It was a satisfactory method, though remarkably callous towards his allies. One in particular above the rest.


    Clever, to place a spy among the lynchpins chosen.


    Cairn winced. I wanted to tell them, her most of all. But Thoth has seen too much genuine suffering to not be able to tell it apart from something counterfeit. And when I make my return, Bell will have plausible deniability. She needed to believe she was killing me. As monstrous as that might seem.


    A silence followed. The Black Beast studied the prince, and for the first time, considered that Archeons plan might be more than an errant fancy. There was something different about him. Something the beast could not quite pin down.


    You have achieved much.


    Morthus, Bacchus. Cairn listed them quietly, Both dead. Not to mention all the pain Ive put my friends through. The cost was too high.


    You have the infernals. You are positioned perfectly to acquire their support. Would you still go back?


    Cairn closed his eyes, floating endlessly in the void.


    No. I have to move forward.

 Chapter 130: Interlude: Thaddeus

    Chapter 130: Interlude: Thaddeus


    But this felt different. Like an old ghost come home to ruin. Chaos.


    Thaddeus, the kings spymaster, felt like he hadnt slept in years. His job was easier once, he mused. He was a natural at it. And yes, the other races constantly had to be kept in check and never stopped bristling against their chains, but at least everything followed a logical degree of sense. Order.


    Not anymore.


    It started with the Kings obsession with an enemy too absurd to consider as anything other than fictitious, spawned out of a tale told by his brother Luther and supported by letters supposedly sent from Prince Cairn. The letters'' authenticity had been verified, rather exhaustively so, but Thaddeus was still not convinced.


    It felt like a maneuver, but for the life of him he couldnt ascertain what they were playing at. An attempt to usurp the throne was possible, but Thaddeus doubted it. For one thing, it was too trite, too basic for the moves being made. Furthermore, Cairn simply wasnt the type. Not yet, at least. He wasnt the clichd sort of young noble that lusted after his fathers power. Rather, he was the clichd young noble who resented nobility in general, considering himself above it all. Likely thanks to the endless toddling of the queen. But something was clearly off.


    After all, the idea was ridiculous. The concept of an Arch-Mage powerful enough to master every element was not a new or unique idea. It was a go-to monster-under-the-bed for every legend too lazy to craft a convincing antagonist. And the fact that they had doubled down with the implications of mixed elven blood on top of all that? That this arch-mage, on top of all her elemental magic, also had access to the elves boundlessly powerful mysticism?


    It was too terrible to be true.


    Thaddeus sipped his spiked tea, waiting for the psychoactive brew to take effect. Idlemoss had something of a reputation as it was both addictive and built resistance quickly. For those with a modicum of self-control, however, it was a boon. The instant recall and enhanced mental acuity more than paid for the hangover.


    Thaddeus gripped his chair as the effects took place and the room began to roll.


    King Gil was not the type to bring idle theories to, unless he fancied them. Confirmable facts were all he took notice of. Still, he allowed the prince to stay in the Enclave as if being the ward of an enemy was a rite of passage. Even the Queen could not ply his ear. When Thaddeus expanded his network within the Enclave, he was shocked to find that Prince Cairn had done exactly as he had written. The infernals were actually teaching him magic. He wasnt being held in a prison, but presided strangely domestically in a small two-bedroom home with an infernal family of no significance.


    For the first time, Prince Cairn interested him. Nobles were almost always all talk. It was only when their lofty ideals were challenged that the crumbled. Only, Prince Cairn hadnt. By all reports, he seemed happythere. Thaddeus tried to imagine King Gil himself living like a commoner amongst the inferiors, and the idle fantasy amused him greatly.


    There were some shiftings in council power, but Councilor Ralakos, one of Cairns steadfast supporters, remained in favor.


    Then, one by one, his spy network within the Enclave disappeared. There was nothing. No evidence of their disappearances. No rumors. Not a single errant whisper of what could have happened to any of them. The infernals spy network was amateurish, so Thaddeus doubted this was the result of anything theyd done. More likely it was a third party, but why?


    Then it got worse.


    Two major problems happened at once. First, reports of the Arch-Mage came from the place he least expected. Teragor, his once home. She had tired of Uskar, apparently, and was trying her hand at subjugating Orcs. Orcs were fiercely strongand, in his experience, equally territorial. This made them tribal in nature. Many powers in Teragor, recognizing the orcs for their strength, attempted something similar and failed. Which made the accounts claiming she was actually making progress all the more terrifying.


    The second concern was that Prince Cairn once again began to send letters.


    His suspicion of the veracity of these letters returned in full force. They were authenticated, and confirmed as before, but something had changed. Cairn claimed to be suspending his efforts at the Enclave for the time being, needing some vaguely hinted at knowledge from the Elves.


    The King tired of Cairns newfound independence, and mobilized his army to intercept. Only, they never found him. A year passed. Letters came, slowly, following the logical route from the Underground Enclave to the Golden City of Fylren Themar. Only no one they interrogated at the various cities the letters were sourced from had any memory of a boy, traveling with a group of infernals or on his own. And as a rule, someone always saw something. The King grew more angry than usual, as he began to realize what Thaddeus had always suspected. They were being duped.


    And something had happened to Prince Cairn.


    The King was convinced his son was alive, and thus believed he would likely make rest at Haldorei. The Golden City was far more historically hostile to humans than the Enclave was, so it made sense that Cairn might stop somewhere nearby and garner support before he placed himself in the lions den.


    Thaddeus himself finally tracked down the source of misinformation at Elanaserin. He had no evidence that the city would be next, rather he was going off his instinct to assume the worst. Looking for an infernal rather than a human. The higher elven population in Haldorei would be intimidating to an infernal, more difficult to stay invisible. Elanaserin was equidistant to the Golden city, but smaller and far more mixed.


    There was only one post in Elanaserin, so it was only a matter of time. On the third day of the stakeout, Thaddeus spotted a man wearing a shroud and gloves, and ordered his men to take him captive, happy to see the end in sight.


    That was three weeks ago. Three long weeks in the Whitefall dungeon. And somehow, the infernal still hadnt broken. To be fair, the interrogator couldnt risk an accidental death, so he had to be gentler than usual. But it was still an impressive record.


    Most annoying of all, was that this was all a pointless distraction. A far greater threat was coming. The end of the world. Ragnark. Thaddeus scratched at the butterfly tattoo on his arm bitterly, until the skin beneath it turned an irritated red. Thus far, the Metamorphosis initiative had been a bitter disappointment. The reformed group had been making headway, but not nearly quickly enough, meetings consistently plagued by in-fighting and petty arguments over morality.


    We were supposed to be above it all. That was the point.


    And now he was tied up tracking down a prince who was probably dead at the behest of a King who was a never-ending disappointment.


    His door creaked open. Thaddeus didnt move. If it was the gray guild, they wouldnt have made a sound. That left only one possibility.


    Youve come up short, I take it? Thaddeus asked.


    An imposing outlining stood in the doorway motionless, until it finally inclined its head.


    He will not break, Jions low voice rumbled. Push any harder, and I will kill him. But he may speak before he dies.


    Thaddeus hesitated. He found torture distasteful, as a rulethere were better ways to get information and leveragebut it was useful from time to time.


    Always hated that moniker. It carries a connotation of dishonesty, and I mostly keep my word. Im just a patriot. Much like you. Thaddeus tipped his wine glass to the infernal.


    We are not the same. The infernal said.


    True enough, from a hematological standpoint. I carry a pure blood, untainted by demons. You are not so fortunate. But that was simply how you were born. It does little to inform who you are.


    The infernals brow furrowed. I have heard many humans say otherwise.


    Well, Thaddeus shrugged, Many people are small-minded. Yours and mine. He reached over and rang the bell.


    Multiple servants entered, carrying two golden platters. The scent of steamed vegetables and sizzling meat pervaded the air. Thaddeus watched as the infernal salivated, then wiped his mouth and looked away, his gaze slowly returning as the platter was placed in front of him. His eye slowly panned to the knife.


    Thaddeus leaned in conspiratorially. Have you ever had Shinomo steak?


    No, The infernal said. Then he seemed to decide if he was to die, he would not die hungry. He picked up the fork with his good hand, the sharpened knife with his bad one. Almost immediately, he dropped the knife.


    Ah, how insensitive of me. Thaddeus used his fork to hold the meat still, methodically cutting it into bite sized pieces. We import them. They are fed well for livestock, practically spoiled, but they do not have easy lives. See the snowflake marbling? That isnt always there. They have to be raised in the high mountains. Something about the thinness of the air and the frigid temperature keeps their flesh from toughening in the sun. And the result? Well, you can judge it for yourself.


    The infernal took a bite, and his eyes widened. It melts.


    Like snow in spring. Thaddeus smiled. They cant possibly know how pointless it all is. Their end destination is a butchers block. Yet, they stubbornly strive to keep going, enduring the cold, for hope that their life will mean something.


    A difficult life, The infernal said. He went back to eyeing the knife.


    The life of a patriot, in many ways. Your life and mine. Thaddeus returned to his steak, watching the infernal through the reflection of his wineglass. All throughout his meal, he waited, content to sit in the silence.


    My struggle is not pointless, The infernal finally said. Hed eaten a few more bites and placed the fork down. The knife was held tightly in his hand.


    It is, and it isnt. Thaddeus held his gaze. The crown prince is missing. An infernal was found impersonating him, leading a trail away from the Enclave. There is only one path from here. Everything else is a matter of degrees.


    This was almost true. King Gil had shown a surprising amount of restraint of late, but if Cairn was no longer of this world, Thaddeus knew how quickly that restraint would devolve into blood. So did the infernal.


    Then I have no reason to hold back? The infernal asked, dangerously.


    Thaddeus felt a thrill. There was an almost carnal rush that came with placing himself in a position so perilous. Had he calculated correctly? Estimated the situation appropriately? The next few moments would tell.


    That depends, Thaddeus answered, then dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin. For a moment, Ill put myself in your place. An exercise in empathy. If I He held his hand to his chest, then out towards the infernal, palm up. a patriot, like you, found myself in the hands of a superior force that intended to strike at my people over a perceived slight, what would I do? He drummed his fingers on the table. I could, of course, take any weapon I could find and attempt to do as much damage as possible before they put me down. But Im not much of a fighter.


    Shame, The infernal said.


    Indeed. And it would feel like a betrayal to give them any information at all. Thaddeus squinted. But if I felt like they didnt have the whole story. That correcting their assumptions might lessen the reprisal? It would become as straightforward as asking myself a simple question. Thaddeus stood and leaned in, placing his chin directly over the infernals knife. Whats more important? My people, or my pride?


    The infernal held his gaze. Thaddeus watched the mans arm tense, and finally go slack. He looked down at the half-eaten steak.


    Is there more? The infernal asked.


    Theres always more.


    /////


    It made sense now, why the letters were always authenticated. Cairn had written them. They were still filled with falsehoods, but hed had the foresight to leave the infernals a contingency in the case of his death. The infernal admitted he reported directly to Guemon, a high council member, who had sent the order to disperse them.


    This would lead to another war. Inevitable as it was pointless. Thaddeus scowled as he exited the dining room.


    How was your dinner? Jion mocked as Thaddeus closed the door behind him.


    Productive. Thaddeus said, his tone brusque.


    And where are you going?


    To tell the King his son is dead.

 Chapter 131: Pyrrhic I

    Chapter 131: Pyrrhic I


    A rustling from a nearby bush caught his ear. He called out. Neki? Howd the fishing go?


    Neki emerged from the brush. Her mousey silver hair was mussed, her angular face covered in bits of dirt. Well, she started, her old world accent thick. As you know, our one hook is getting a bit blunted. So, there I was at the shoreline, struggling to insert said dull hook into a particularly displeased and uncooperative grasshopperwhen an infaris struck greater demon, twice my height, came lumbering out of the gods damned thicket.


    Lokerias stood, his hand on his sword. He scanned their surroundings first, then looked back to Neki. She was nearly as threadbare and worn down as he was, but save a few new scratches on her cheek seemed relatively unharmed.


    What did you do? Are we in danger? Lokerias asked.


    What do you think I did? What would anyone do?


    Run?


    I screamed like a newborn croodle. Neki slumped down. Panicked. Tried desperately to get away and fell plum on my face. The greater demon stared down at me. Had the gall to look disappointed. And you know what he said to me, Loke?


    Lokerias had a vague picture of what had happened now, but had no intention of jumping in front of the runaway wagon that was Neki on a tirade. He held his tongue.


    Carry on. Neki erupted. Carry on. All dismissive. Like Im some sort of miscreant to be sent on my way.


    So what Im gathering is, you met one of the asmodial sentinels and panicked, Lokerias said.


    Thats about the short of it, yea.


    Well then. Mushrooms it is. Lokerias didnt bother asking about the hook, or for that matter, the rod. It had been suspiciously absent in the rest of her story. He went and unpacked the wood he had been studiously saving, hoping to use for a nice fish dinner and set up a campfire. But no. They would use it to cook mushrooms instead. Oh, how tired he was of mushrooms.


    And they were nearly out. Too far from any of the established trade depots, they would likely have to return to the Heart early. They hadnt found anything of significance, so the precepts would likely take one look at their disheveled state and send them back to the Enclave.


    They had barely started cooking before an animal shriek from high above startled him out of the spiraling thought.


    What was that? Neki was staring at the sky, squinting.


    Sounded big. Too big to be on the upper layers. Lokerias turned in a wide circle, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.


    A winged reptile soared above him, and roared. Lokerias nearly pissed himself. He knew there were reports of wyverns in the Sanctum, but they were always on the lower levels, usually questionable accounts given by older infernals about to graduate.


    Suddenly, returning to the heart didnt seem like such a tall order.


    But before he could turn and yell for Neki to run, the wyvern smashed headfirst into a tree. There was an explosion of wood and bone, shrapnel whizzing by his head, and he dropped.


    There was a low groan, and a figure clad in black slid off the dragons body. He was tall. An older infernal, if he was an infernal at all. Lokerias could scarcely believe any mortal was capable of what he was seeing.


    Did he just ride a wyvern into a tree?


    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neki wander closer, peeking up over a stump.


    So beautiful. So very, very, dumb. The man spoke, seemingly directly to the wyvern. He patted the dead beast gently. Then he pulled a cruel looking knife and began carving into the wyverns chest with brutal efficiency.


    Maybe he was an elder? There were elders that had been in the sanctum for hundreds of years.


    Yes Vogrin, Im aware. The man snapped.


    First the wyvern, now talking to himself. Almost definitely an Elder. But Lokerias wasnt taking any chances. Slowly, timing his footsteps with the sound of tearing flesh, he made his way to Neki, pointing towards a deepening section of wood. She took his meaning and rose to her feet.


    The both of you should really look up more. The man called out.


    They froze. The man was still going about his work, carving into the wyverns chest. His blade slipped, and he swore, mumbling something about good knives being impossible to hold on to.


    Were you following us? Neki asked, not bothering to hide the accusation in her voice.


    Nope. The man said. He turned to look at them for the first time. His hood wreathed his features, veiling them in shadow. He pointed to the wyvern. But he was. For at least a chamber. Either of you got a fire element?


    The idea of giving random strangers information about their elements set of alarm bells in Lokeriass head.


    I dont know, she was sicklylikely on account of missing her damn heartand you kicked her a bunch. Or something. The man said, exasperated. Do you both want the flying treasure trove or not?


    Yes, Lokerias and Neki spoke immediately.


    Good. Weve reached an agreement, then. The man tied the swaddled heart to his pack and slung it over his shoulder. The rest of it wont be as valuable, but it will still be quite the boon. No Precept in the Sanctum would send you back home if they think you bagged a wyvern, sickly or not. Should be enough to get a proper team together as well.


    They both thanked him and set to work on Russ. It was tough work, but well worth it when Lokerias imagined the reaction of the camp, and the gold it would tender.


    Out of the corner of his eye, Lokerias saw the stranger slipping away into the frost-crested forest.


    Ill be right back. Lokerias whispered, leaving Neki to puzzle out how to harvest the Wyverns sapphire talons.


    Half-frozen grass crunched painfully loudly as he followed the stranger. The man seemed to have something of a limp, and was leaving small droplets of blood behind him. Despite his cavalier nature, he hadnt gotten out of the crash unscathed.


    Sure the man must have heard him by now, Lokerias called out. Youre injured.


    The man kept walking. Flesh wound. Nothing to worry about after a potion or two.


    Are you him? Lokerias asked.


    The man stopped.


    My sister told me the stories. Of the human who sold his soul for us. Lokerias continued, growing less sure of himself by the second.


    He died. The man said quietly.


    Yes. But there have been legends of infernals so powerful they battled their way out of the deepest circle of hell and emerged victorious. And she said, if anyone could do it, he could. Unable to hold it back, Lokerias corrected himself. You could.


    The man let out a heavy sigh. Legends are stories with a better name. Sorry, kid. The prince is gone. Im someone else entirely.


    Lokerias watched him go.


    /////


    For someone so sufficiently motivated to remain anonymous, you arent very good at it.


    Thank you, Vogrin, for the never-ending sardonic commentary, I said. Then I called a burst of wind, leaping straight upward and landing in the crook of a tall tree. It wasnt flying, exactly, but the combination of my inscriptions and my vastly improved air magic allowed me to scale vertical distances with much greater ease.


    From my perch, I watched the two young infernals from earlier. They both had potential. It was the only reason Id given them the boon. Staying in the Sanctum for so long had made me far more sensitive to both my magic, and the magic of others. Whether theyd reach their potential by the time it counted was anyones guess.


    My leg stung. I pulled up my pant-leg and used demon fire to sear it shut, a slow hiss escaping from my lips. Then I leaned back against the tree. The two infernals below cheered, one of them finally managing to detach a single talon.


    Was it corrupted? I asked in a low voice.


    Uncertain. If corruption was present, it had only just taken root. More likely, it was aggravated by the degradation of the leyline. Vogrin reappeared across from me, his severe features still covered by a blindfold.


    Its getting worse. And somehow I doubt our favorite arch-mage will be coming by for maintenance again. I grimaced.


    If she does, you have much bigger problems than a wyvern with a taste for demon-fire.


    True enough. I settled myself, preparing to drop back down.


    Why did you harvest the Wyverns heart? Vogrin asked. Its unlike you.


    I mused over the question. It was endlessly entertaining to keep Vogrin in the dark. And on some level, it was likely payback for how badly he and Ozra had botched dealing with Thoth. But that was petty. Typically, he was my only company. It was better to cull that habit now. After all, I couldnt hide in the Sanctum forever. And Id need his full cooperation when I made my return.


    Picked it up for an old friend.


    A gift? Vogrin asked.


    More like an offering.

 Chapter 132: Pyrrhic II

    Chapter 132: Pyrrhic II


    The man ate in silence, unheeding of the impatient twitching of Lokeriass tail.In extending an invitation for the stranger to share their fire, the Writ of Arkus was clear. It would be improper to impose on him in any way. Lokerias tried instead to focus on his meal. Though stringy, the wyvern meat was delicious, and he devoured it quickly, nearly forgetting to breathe.


    Finally, the man leaned back and seemed to relax. When he spoke, there was an easy-going friendliness in his voice thatd been absent before. As much fun as it would be to draw this out for my own entertainment, Neki is visibly dying over there, and youre better at hiding it, but not by much. We might as well get started.


    Ive heard Cairn spoke to the goddess. And she actually answered him. Is that true? Neki exploded, barely able to sit still.


    I heard that he had a magical sword that ignited with demon-fire.


    The man held up a hand. What Im about to tell you stays between the three of us. He studied Lokerias, and the boy felt the same heavy weight fall over him. And its not that I distrust you, but Ill need assurances.


    I swear the Oath of Shavine that your words will never be repeated. Unless Loki and I discuss them in private. Neki said, fist pressed to her heart, her expression uncharacteristically serious.


    Lokerias stared at his companion in shock. Shavine was the god of vengeance. Breaking such an oath carried dire consequences, loss of magic among the least extreme. His expression hardened in determination, and he repeated the oath.


    The mans head swiveled as he looked between the two of them. That is far too heavy an oath to be made so recklessly.


    Neki shrugged. As long as we dont break it, well be fine.


    There was a sudden shift in atmosphere as the man focused entirely on Neki. Its that thinking exactly that will get you into trouble. Most people dont set out to break oaths or promises. Theyre easy to make at the moment. Its often only long after, when its too late, that you realize exactly how difficult they are to keep.


    Wise words, Lokerias interjected, cringing as the mans dark hood turned to face him. But I think you might be mistaking interest for haste. Weve been talking about the prince for years. Us and the rest of the enclave. Whispers of a legend that passed us by a hairs breadth.


    The stranger cocked his head. So, its worth it, then?


    Nothings worth losing my magic for, Neki said, But silence is a small price to pay. To learn even a piece of what really happened.


    I see. The stranger said. He wrapped his cloak around himself. To answer your questions, Cairn didnt have a magic sword. Just one made with a special metal that ignited on contact with demon flame. And he did have a conversation with Infaris, if thats the goddess youre referring to.


    What did she say? Neki leaned so far forward she almost fell over.


    She told him to get his shit together. The stranger shook his head in amusement at Nekis disappointed expression, a face Lokerias had grown begrudgingly accustomed to. Thats what he told me, anyway. Theres more to it, of course, but Im guessing that conversation was meant for him, and him alone.


    Thats understandable, I suppose. Neki pouted.


    What made him different? Lokerias asked, finally voicing the question that had plagued him since he first learned of the prince.


    How do you mean? The stranger asked.


    Lokerias looked at his hands. For as long as I can rememberhells, as long as Ive been alive, if you saw a human out on the road, you ran. Theyve always looked down on us. Expanded their territories while our borders shrink, the threat of King Gil deciding to eradicate us once and for all a constant threat. Theres still some of that, but its different now. Councillor Ralakos has been sending ambassadors to human cities. Weve even started to trade with them. I just dont understand how one person managed to upend the perception that humans are Remembering who he might be talking to, Lokerias cut himself off.


    Evil? The stranger asked wryly. Well. Theres evil in all of us. Human or otherwise, that much is certain. But I understand what you mean. There was a time that Cairn thought similarly about the infernals.


    What? Neki squawked.


    Think about it. The strangers voice gained a sad, faraway quality. Humans and Infernals have a history of strife. Humans and most of the other races, really. Its a natural pitfall, barbarizing your enemy. As the first prince of Uskar, Cairn was no exception.


    What changed? Lokerias asked.


    He woke up. In the back of a carriage, traveling home through the Everwood. The strangers voice was almost nostalgic. It started with a vision.


    A vision? Lokerias confirmed, dubiously. Not for the first time, he felt as if the man was leaving something out. From what deity?


    Not a damn clue. But it was grim. It took place on the eve of his coronation, ten years in the future. He watched as a coalition of non-humansevery race you could think ofinvaded and sundered his home, united under one banner.


    Neki snorted, then quickly covered her mouth. Sorry.


    No, The man waved away her apology. I agree. It sounds farfetched. Historically, any cooperation between the non-human races has been nearly as short-lived as alliances with humans.


    It sounds like nothing more than a child having a nightmare, Lokerias said, somewhat disappointed.


    Perhaps, the man said, And Cairn might have thought the same. If the woman who united the non-humans and killed him in his vision, hadnt ambushed his retinue nearly a decade ahead of schedule.


    Neki gasped. The Adversary.


    Who?


    As a final desperate effort, Cairn sailed through the underground channels of the Twilight Chambers, accompanied by Nethtari, to beseech the asmodials to stay their hand, tempting them with a one-of-a-kind magical artifact capable of creating hard illusions.


    It was only then that the true depths of Ephiras depravity were revealed. The councillor had committed the ultimate tabootrading her very soul to the demons themselves.


    Lokeriass jaw dropped at the horror of it. A defaulted soul had to be remanded freely. Once the soul left the individuals body, it could never be reincarnated. It would remain within the hells for all eternity, conscripted as a champion into the demonic legions never-ending battle for supremacy in the underworld.


    It was effectively damning yourself to an eternity of bloodshed and fighting that would never end.


    Cairn negotiated with the Arch-Demon Ozra, showing him visions of the great battle that would come to pass. Of the Adversary, and her advanced mastery over magic, promising a reaping of souls that would dwarf the sundering of the enclave if the arch-demon staid his hand.


    But of course, there was no guarantee the asmodials could claim the adversarys soul. Perhaps they could trick her, somehow, or force a pact she could not reasonably decline. However, a soul from a mage they already owned was more valuable in their eyes than any potential soul, even if the latter was far more powerful.


    There was only one card left to play.


    With her extensive knowledge of the demonic language and contracts, Nethtari was able to demonstrate to the asmodials that Ephira had intentionally deceived them, creating the opportunity for them to declare Ephiras contract null and void.


    And it was Cairnthe son of an ancient bloodlinewho sacrificed everything to drive the chisel home. He offered the demons a trade they could not ignore. A soul of royal blood. His soul, freely given.


    It doesnt make any sense, Neki blurted, then immediately slapped a hand over her mouth.


    The stranger tilted his head. Why?


    Because no one is that selfless.


    The infernals magic is powerful. From a pragmatic standpoint, Cairn probably realized hed need them for even a chance of standing against the adversary. The strangers cowl tilted down as he studied the floor. But, youre right. Im uncertain whether he could have made that call, if that was all there was to it.


    Theres more. Lokerias realized.


    Life in the palace isnt so gilded as you might believe. The stranger said grimly. Cairn lost his mother to illness at a young age. After her passing, his father grew darker. Angrier. King Gil was brutal in punishing any perceived slight or failure. Siblings were to be viewed as rivals and potential threats to the throne, fostering hostile competition. Family was just a word that denoted bloodline relation. Nothing more. But Mayas family was different. They housed him, fed him, and treated him as one of their own. Jorra was like the brother he never had. Maya, his closest friend and companion. Kilvius treated Cairn like his own son. Nethtari walked with him through the darkest moments imaginable, and never once wavered. It was the closest thing to a family he ever had.


    A grim silence fell over the ramshackle campsite, as the two infernals absorbed the gravity of what theyd been told. They were so entrenched in thought, it took a moment for them to react as the stranger stood to leave.


    Wait! Neki stood to follow him. You havent told us what happened in the sanctum.


    You know the rest. Whats there to tell? The stranger asked, sounding more fatigued than before. Cairn entered the Sanctum along with his closest companions. The adversary sprung a trap, sealing the Sanctum off from the enclave with powerful magic. He chased her to the sepulcher to discover her true purpose. It came to light that Thoth had allied with another demonic legionthe Decarabiaand after Cairn nearly caught her by surprise, she decided to finally stop toying with her food. Cairn fell back to the heart of the sanctum, where Thoth and her host of demons forced a conflict. The prince was faced with the decision to either draw countless innocent children into a bloodbath, or fight the adversary in single combat. He chose the latter. He died. End of story.


    Before they could protest further, the stranger disappeared into the dense tree-line.


    ***


    For someone so sufficiently motivated to remain anonymous, you arent very good at it.


    Thank you, Vogrin, for the never-ending sardonic commentary, I said. Then I called a burst of wind, leaping straight upward and landing in the crook of a tall tree. It wasnt flying, exactly, but the combination of my inscriptions and my vastly improved air magic allowed me to scale vertical distances with much greater ease.


    From my perch, I watched the two young infernals from earlier. They both had potential. It was the only reason Id given them the wyverns remains as a boon. Staying in the Sanctum for so long had made me far more sensitive to both my magic, and the magic of others. Whether theyd reach their potential by the time it counted was anyones guess.


    My leg stung. I pulled up my pant-leg and used demon fire to sear it shut, a slow hiss escaping from my lips. Then I leaned back against the tree. The two infernals below cheered, one of them finally managing to detach a single talon.


    Was it corrupted? I asked in a low voice.


    Uncertain. If corruption was present, it had only just taken root. More likely, it was aggravated by the degradation of the leyline. Vogrin reappeared across from me, his severe features still covered by a blindfold.


    Its getting worse. And somehow I doubt our favorite arch-mage will be coming by for maintenance again. I grimaced.


    If she does, you have much bigger problems than a wyvern with a taste for demon-fire.


    True enough. I settled myself, preparing to drop back down.


    Why did you harvest the Wyverns heart? Vogrin asked. Its unlike you.


    I mused over the question. It was endlessly entertaining to keep Vogrin in the dark. And on some level, it was likely payback for how badly he and Ozra had botched dealing with Thoth. But that was petty. Typically, he was my only company. It was better to cull that habit now. After all, I couldnt hide in the Sanctum forever. And Id need his full cooperation when I made my return.


    Picked it up for an old friend.


    A gift? Vogrin asked.


    More like an offering.

 Chapter 133: Pyrrhic III

    Chapter 133: Pyrrhic III


    There was a lot I needed to adapt to, living rough in a place like the Sanctum. Despite the existence of the trade-posts, I couldnt risk being recognized through buying supplies. Even with a mask, my eyes were too distinctive for me to take that chance.


    When deep in the sanctum, what you can and cannot eat becomes a weekly gamble that could turn daily at any given time. Shelf life is a serious concern. Dehydrating and drying food is the best way to ensure sustainability. Conditions and weather are always up to the whim of whatever grand magical apparatus controls the Sanctum itself. But nature often knows before man, so all one has to do is read the signs. The Reed Lillies, for example, recede when the weather turns cold, and expand out again when the cold front is nearly over, eager for warmth. Similarly,many forms of wildlife burrow before a hot flash.


    Id carved more meat from the Wyvern than I needed, surrounding the heart with it to prevent separation rot and packing the wrapping and the satchel itself with snow. The leather lining had begun to leak water halfway through, and the interior was soaked in moisture by the time I made it to the Runic Desert chamber. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Satisfied with the scent and quality of the meat, I cut the majority of it into thin strips and set it on a makeshift drying rack Id fashioned for this exact purpose. I drank greedily from my canteen, basking in the warmth of the sun as it restored vitality to my frost nipped lower body. It wasnt hard to see why the elders chose to retire to the Sanctum. It could be harsh, brutal in places, but the natural order it imposed was appealing. It held a refreshing simplicity that was missing from life in court.


    Unfortunately, one of the prices for that freedom was that injuries often held a steep price. I was covered in scars from various scraps with creatures of the Sanctum, some corrupted, some presenting a particular challenge I wanted to overcome.


    The wound on my thigh twinged even now. There wasnt time to disinfect it in a timely manner, and while my later ministrations likely warded off the threat of infection, recent events hadnt given it a chance to begin healing..


    I summoned the demonic gauntlet, watching as the black metal flowed from my fingertips to my forearm, forming dark ripples as it solidified up to my shoulder. I shuddered as it crossed my chest, reaching up to my neck and down to my navel. Along with a strong level of protection, Id learned the gauntlet also had curative properties. Concentrating hard, I tried to direct the flow to my wounded thigh. It paused at my waistline, a single strand dipping down towards my leg before my focus broke, and the armor receded.


    I frowned. It would only be more difficult to form out of the Sanctum, where mana was less abundant.


    My thoughts turned melancholic as I watched the metal dissipate to flesh beneath. Not for the first time, I pondered what I would do if I managed to stop Ragnark. The demons held claim on my soul. Despite what my younger infernal friend from the previous chamber had implied about legends of infernals fighting their way out the clutches of demons, Id managed to do some research on the topic. There were several chambers that were recreations of ancient libraries. And the precedent for regaining ones soul from demonic clutches was practically non-existent. The demons would always collect, eventually. It was just a matter of time.


    Still.


    I stared up at the cloudless sky. Say, Vogrin?


    Yes? Vogrins voice held an irritable tone that told me hed been in the midst of deep meditation.


    At the end of all this, do you think Ozra would care if I came back here?


    Vogrin snorted. And retired, as the infernals do?


    I ignored the derision. Im serious.


    Surprising that youd voice the idea, considering who I report to.


    It was just a whim. I said. On the off-chance I actually succeed, stop Thoth, somehow stunt the corruption and hold off the end of the world? Ill still have to lead a kingdom. Maintain whatever thin alliances we manage to cobble together. And the idea of going from that to a never-ending struggle in the lower realms


    There was a hesitation as Vogrin considered the question. It would be a well-earned respite. Especially considering all we stand to gain from your success. The idea is not out of scope. Soul-bound infernals do it all the time.


    It isntt considered a violation of the contract? I asked.


    There was a mental shrug. Its not charity. Any power you acquire here will make you exponentially stronger in the demonic realm. And while it would expand your lifespan by centuries, the expansion would not be infinite. Time is not nearly as important to us as it is to you.


    A wave of peace settled over me, quelling a longstanding anxiety Id almost forgotten was there. Thank you.


    I doubt the Infernals would deny such a boon, if you accomplish even a fraction of what you intend. Vogrins voice was strangely encouraging.


    One can only hope.


    For now, Vogrin said wryly, You should focus on defending your dinner.


    I sat up too quickly, blood rushing to my head. A sandhawk was perched next to the drying rack, pecking at the drying meat with undisguised greed. I concentrated a bead of mana into my fingertip and flicked a gust of air toward it. The sandhawk let out an undignified squawk and took flight.


    Damn birds. I watched until it disappeared over a nearby dune, ensuring it wouldnt make a second pass. When I glanced back towards the meat, I noticed it had left something behind. The body of a dwarf rabbit was discarded a few feet away, likely forgotten for the tastier prospect of Wyvern meat.


    Saladius stood, shaking off what had to be a bucket of sand, before he laughed at me. Come to the desert and ask a man for ice. Pure delusion. Fuckin ice, he says.


    I rolled my eyes. Relax, Saladius. I brought food to trade. I left out the part where I would have brought it anyway, trade or no. The man was too damn proud to accept help.


    His expression grew severe. Not kobold again?


    For the last time, I didnt know eating kobold was taboo. I dangled the satchel out before me. Its wyvern. Very dumb. Very non-sentient.


    Saladius scowled. Ill check what I have.


    I followed the Elder as he hobbled to his hut. He compensated with a combination of air magic and pure grit, but the extent of his injuries from the fight with Cowl saddened me. Id found him too late. He was either too stubborn or scared to make the journey to the heart, and thus, the damage from his untreated broken bones was mostly permanent. Id expected him to stay with Veldani, but he had departed back to the desert a week after his more life-threatening injuries and sleeping sickness was treated.


    The hut itself was in a state of disarray, but never failed to imbue a sense of nostalgia. I waited patiently as Saladius rummaged through the enchanted store-box in his kitchen, my attention straying to the room wed once stayed in.


    If I let my focus ebb, I could almost see them. Jorra and Bellarex, chatting in the corner animatedly, their voices echoing off the walls.


    Maya, searching hurriedly through her pack for something she misplaced, asking me if Id seen it.


    My chest hurt, and I closed my eyes.


    Focusing on loneliness only ever made it worse.


    Dont fall asleep now, Saladius interrupted gruffly, placing a small bag before me. I looked through the drawstring of the pouch at the silver fragments. As if I was a dubious buyer, Saladius reassured me. Theyre enchanted, per usual. Should last you at least a chamber or two.


    Of course. I slid the lions share of the dried meat over to him, leaving me with enough rations for three days. He studied the amount, and his eyes narrowed.


    This is too much.


    Not a lot of water mages in the Sanctum currently, I lied. Prices are up in your favor.


    Saladius harrumphed. Too honest. Itll get you killed one day.


    I let the irony pass.


    Thats all, then? Saladius poked at me. Not going to harass me about going to Veldanis little funeral parlor this time?


    Its a hospice. And Im apparently too honest, so believe me when I say that she could use your help. Especially when Im gone.


    Learn all you can from us, huh? Saladius asked. There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.


    Obviously not, I hedged, A few more years and I would have aged out anyway. I was never going to stay forever.


    Id been holding to the timetable of a few more weeks for months now. But the time was fast approaching. All I needed was Veldanis final approval that I was ready.


    I packed the Wyverns heart with ice and stood to leave, pausing at the doorway. When I awoke to my second element, I cursed it for how weak it seemed. A gentle breeze of air when I desperately needed something stronger. You showed me how wrong I was.


    It was your ego, Saladius mused. Once that was out of the way, it was just a matter of practice.


    On the topic of ego


    Saladius cut me off. I survived here for years without you, boy. Just as Ill be here for years with you gone. Might finally get some decent sleep for that matter. He was stubborn as all the hells put together, but somehow, I believed him.


    I shut the door behind me, and unknowingly, left Saladiuss hut for the last time.

 Chapter 134: Pyrrhic IV

    Chapter 134: Pyrrhic IV


    I wound my way through graves and crumbling buildings. The sepulcher itselfInfariss sacred resting place, a monolithic crypt with an iron gate that had once haunted my dreams, was surrounded by the ruins hinting at their former majesty.


    There was a sad irony in that.


    As the first infernal, Infaris had died thousands of years ago. She was deified, her memory honored with the creation of the sepulcher. It had withstood the test of time, standing as a beacon of history as countless infernals made the pilgrimage to pay their respect, only for Thoth to destroy it in her rage and haste to pursue me.


    As I crested the stairs, a small cluster of crow-like birds bearing red markings around their heads startled and took flight, leaving an unidentifiable mess of carrion in their wake, a crooked halo of putrefying gore beneath it.


    With a grimace, I began to clean the portico, removing the carrion first, then sacrificing some of my dwindling water supply to dilute the mess. I scraped off what remained with an already dirty rag, and rubbed at the surface until the black stone shimmered as it had the first time I passed by to enter the gate that now lay flat, buried beneath an endless deluge of stone.


    Maybe my actions were indulgent. But either from exhaustion, or frustration from the cyclea never-ending loop of unknown origin, that began somewhere in my childhood and ended in Ragnark, before inevitably restarting againmost gods had already abandoned us. Infaris was one of the few that remained. That alone made her worthy of reverence and respect.


    Keep an eye on the entrance to the chamber? I asked, my voice pitched low.


    Happily. Vogrin detached himself from me, the black cloak billowed around his pale shoulders as he levitated away, quick to put distance between himself and Sepulchers ruins.


    That tracked. Demons and gods didnt exactly get along, but Vogrin and Infaris mingled as well as oil and water.


    I pulled a golden plate from my satchel and unpacked the Wyvern heart and held it up to my nose, taking a deep breath. The scent of blood, while fainter than before, was still present. There was no sour tinge to it. I placed it on the golden plate, shifting it, so it was perfectly centered.


    Beseeching the gods. Combine that with what your teacher told me about the last time she saw you, I might get the impression youre planning to leave. A monotone voice said from behind me. I turned to see a middle-aged violet infernal studying me, shading herself from the light beneath the overhang of a tomb.


    I stood to face her, my hands loose at my side. Funny coincidence. Us being here at the same time. Are you hunting me?


    And if I was?


    Unable to maintain the farce any longer, I broke into a grin. Id be in serious trouble.


    True enough, Nethtari smiled.


    I took the stairs two at a time and rushed forward to embrace her. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close. An almost painful nostalgia washed over me as Nethtari tussled my hair. Itd been over a year since our paths last crossed. Despite discarding her armor for the robes of an Elder, Mayas mother looked much the way she had the day I met her years ago. Tall and stoic. When I first arrived in the enclave, injured and disoriented, shed not only been the only infernal willing to shelter me in her home, but had served as my representative before the council, and convinced them to allow my continued observation of their magic and culture as a ward, with the promise that I would someday hone my talent to their benefit.


    The happiness in my chest faded somewhat as I remembered what came after.


    In Infernal society, the Sanctum served a dual purpose. It was both a training and proving ground for young infernals, filled to the brim with magic and valuable artifacts they could claim as boons. A cornucopia of priceless treasures that lay just beneath the surface. There was a catch, of course. Due to the excess ambient magic in the Sanctum, young infernals could only remain there until the verge of adulthood. Any longer, and their bodies would become dependent on the magic.


    Because of the way it functioned, the Sanctum also served as a place of retirement for their elders, the ambient magic extending their lives and allowing them to pass down knowledge and teachings to each generation.


    Id entered for the purpose of both honing my magic and finding a teacher, as the magic I needed to restore the dimension gatea pathway to other infernal lands that had been sundered long ago.


    Only, Thoth had been waiting. My mortal enemy. She cut off the entrance to the Sanctum with a warded forcefield, and placed a bounty on my head. With Vogrins help, Id tracked Thoth deep into the Sanctum. When I discovered her true purposeto stall the corruption by restoring the Prime Leyline that lay deep beneath the Sepulcher, I intended to withdraw.


    Fate had other plans. Due to a mistake on the part of my demonic allies, I was drawn into a hopeless battle with Thoth that culminated at the Sanctums heart. Even though she was beyond the maximum age, Nethtari and other infernals from the enclave managed to open a secondary entrance and came to our aid. They knew that they could never leave. And theyd come for us anyway.


    They passed through the Everwood to hide their number. The first reports came through yesterday, just before they breached the tree-line.


    Damn it all. Too close. It took considerably longer to move an army, but by my estimate, they were less than a day away. There was so much I wanted to say to Nethtari, but there simply wasnt time. Then I have to go.


    I raced back to the obliterated entrance of the Sepulcher and used a spark of demon fire to set the wyverns heart alight. This was meant to be a drawn out process. Burning the offering and waiting by the improvised brazier for Infaris to manifest. We hadnt parted on the best of terms when I sought her guidance months ago, but Id hoped to clear the air before I left. There simply wasnt time.


    Without pausing, I turned from the sepulcher and grasped the amulet around my neck. Vogrin, we need to move. Quickly.


    I shall construct the means. Will the infernal woman be traveling with us?


    Coming along for the ride, Nethtari? I jogged back to her. Something in my chest squeezed as she shook her head, looking away with misty eyes.


    Its best that we part here. My role in this has ended. The Queens virtues are extolled by humans and non-humans alike. If Whitefall is indeed your destination, you have a loving mother waiting at home. She blinked and smiled at me, wiping her eyes. What will she think of you, I wonder. Youve grown into an entirely different person from the child who came stumbling out of that cell a lifetime ago.


    The thought of seeing my real mother again, my birth mother, was still difficult to wrap my head around. But the fact that she was alive in this timeline did nothing to diminish how important Nethtari and Kilvius were to me. I stopped mid-stride. Suddenly, it was critical that my words reach her. I diverted from my course to take Nethtaris hand. She squeezed it, pain clear in her eyes.


    My voice was barely louder than a whisper. I was born in Whitefall, Nethtari. But you gave me the only home I ever had. And while you might not be my mother in blood, you are my mother in spirit. Theres no rule that says I can only have one.


    Nethtari chuckled. Im reasonably sure there are bigamy laws that state otherwise.


    I shrugged. Best to overturn them, then. My first act as king.


    She folded my hand into both of hers. Watch out for my little ones. And please, Cairn. Be safe.


    With all the decorum I could muster, I bowed to Nethtari. May the frost wane at your waking. When that didnt feel like enough, I added. I will see you again.


    My hand slid from her fingers and I turned and jogged towards the chambers entrance. Vogrin had fashioned a golem from dirt and soil that looked suspiciously like a horse with horns.


    Problem? Vogrin asked.


    Oh, the usual. Father is complicating my life again. Hes marching on the enclave, undoubtedly intending to make an example of the foul creatures who killed his son. I placed my foot in the stirrup and kicked a leg over, grunting at the impact. The golem was harder than it looked.


    Vogrin paused. That is a problem. Whats our course of action?


    Hard to say until were in the thick of it. Not enough information. For now? I drove my heels into the golems sides. We ride.


    It took off with a lurching gait towards the entrance of the chamber, Vogrin floating alongside me.


    Vogrin leaned close. Not to ruin the moment, but youve forgotten your hood.


    Instinctively, I reached behind my neck to grab for it. Then stopped.


    I dont need it anymore.

 Chapter 135: Pyrrhic V

    Chapter 135: Pyrrhic V


    Precept Jorra led the small group of pre-adolescent infernals into the sanctum. He watched them obsessively as they passed by the halfway point. When there was no vomiting, or excessive crying, or combination of the two, he felt himself relax. Other than the requisite groaning and clutching of stomachs, this batch was more or less solid.


    Still, as he watched them struggling along, tiny hands clinging tightly to the two long spans of rope desperately as they navigated the winding cave passages, he couldnt help but feel as if the council was making a mistake. With the news of an imminent attack from the humans, the administration had voted to evacuate all children with a rudimentary grasp of magic into the sanctum. Considering the parallels with the dimension gate decades before, the decision was as controversial as one might expect.


    Even barring the worst-case scenario, there were logistical issues. Too many scared and barely off-the-teat young ones with not nearly enough elders and precepts to care for them.


    There had only been one casualty thus far. A sensitive voidling who wandered off and bled out internally before anyone realized the extent of her acclimation sickness, the precepts were held to a far higher standard than before the mandate was reduced.


    That hadnt been on his watch. Still, the idea alone haunted him. And the sense of responsibility was only growing stronger. Jorra himself had already been assigned the care of fifteen children, yet still held the duty of escorting more from the grand lift to the tunnels and sanctum beyond.


    The journey had been somewhat improved through the addition of an assortment of earth magesonly taking a handful of hours instead of the previous half-days journey.


    But Jorra was still worried. There had always been a certain inherent savageness in sending teenagers to the sanctum. While there were many elders near the entrance and clearly mapped out highways, it is within a childs nature to stray from the path. This was further aggravated by the host of legends that had cropped up after Cairns death a few years prior.


    Every curious child wanted to find the so-called bearer of the sacred flame.


    Which naturally lured them to dark places off the beaten path in the Sanctum that even Jorraan accomplished water mage in his own right, on the verge of graduationwould not dare to tread.


    A painful image flashed through Jorras mind. Cairn, lying with his back in the dirt, bloody and ripped open. Bellarex dealing the final blow. The definitive death rattle that followed.


    There was a time when he had hoped. That the human boy had something up his sleeve, some sleight of hand or trick hed held back from them until the final moment. Over time, Jorra had begun to recognize that hope for what it was. Denial.


    No one came back from that. Not even Cairn.


    Again, he found his gaze drawn to young ones faces. They were young, far too young. Barely older than Agarin, his younger brother. And was that girl in the back sucking her thumb?


    How much longer? A tiny violet infernal at the front asked.


    Not long, Jorra repeated the answer for the hundredth time, though it was the first for this particular infernal.


    And well be assigned to someone when we get there? He pressed.


    Jorra glanced away, eyes tracing the dancing shadows on the cave wall, cast by a burbling stream. Well arrive at the heart, where one of the elders will help you adjust to being in the sanctum.


    I miss my mom. One of the smaller boys towards the back said. His announcement was met with a mix of derision from his fellows and a few quiet notes of agreement. There was a despondent air that festered among this particular group ever since theyd gathered at the elevator. They were scared. And they had every reason to be.


    Jorra closed his eyes for a moment, struggling with what to say. He wanted to help them. To give them hope.


    Not for the first time, he wondered what Cairn would say. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to encourage and push those around him.


    Jorra halted the group. He undid his pack and handed out rationsa simple meal of fish and bread. Once the children had begun to eat, he stood before them, arms locked behind his back, his stance wide. He took a deep breath and began to speak. Our way of life is in peril. Even as these words leave my lips, your parents are doing everything they can to fortify and defend our home.


    They cant win. A dry, sarcastic voice spoke up, as if there was no point in trying. . Jorra tried to pick out the source of the voice, but couldnt quite isolate it.


    There are no absolutes in life. Jorra deflected. Whatever the outcome, they cannot succeed if their focus is split. Which is why your mission here today is so important.


    What mission? Were just running away. The same voice jeered. Jorra picked him out this time, a plump red infernal towards the back, wearing an eternal scowl.


    Maybe it feels that way. But in reality, you are supporting your parents. Allowing them to fight without worry of what will happen if the enclave is breached. Their strength is in your safety. So if you want to help, stay strong, to listen to the elders and precepts, and be vigilant.


    What makes you so convinced I faked my death? A couple of kids I ran into seemed convinced that the human prince could fight his way out of the hells. Barring that, maybe Infaris brought me back.


    Jorra gave me a level-stare. That was progress, at least. It was the first time hed looked at me since hed almost put my lights out. We lived in the same house for years, not even counting the time we spent as a group. At least do me the marginal courtesy of not insulting my intelligence.


    Thats fair. I touched my throbbing jaw and grunted. Im sorry, Jorra.


    Jorra stopped. There was a pregnant silence in the cave, interrupted only by the scattered sound of intermittent dripping.


    I tried to look for another way.


    Do you have any idea what that was like? Watching your closest friend, struck down by a person you loved? Jorra looked up at the ceiling.


    My mouth dropped open. You and Bellarex


    No. Jorra said, then hedged. It was nothing more than a crush. Stupid childish feelings. But when she came back, after we thought that Thoth had captured or killed her, I had to say something.


    Did she, uh, reciprocate?


    Does it matter? Jorra held his arms wide. I spent every day after she killed you feeling like an idiot. Wondering if I was just a terrible judge of character. And then when the letter that revealed that Bellarex acted at your behest finally started making the rounds, I didnt know what to think.


    I paused for a moment. So she didnt reciprocate.


    Jorra blew air through his teeth. She wanted to wait until we were older, asshole.


    Ah. Couldve been worse.


    Really? A vein stood out in his forehead, and for a moment, I thought he might punch me again.


    Then again, given the context, maybe not.


    We wound our way through the tunnels for some time before Jorra spoke again.


    I understand why you did it. Thoth watched us for a long time.


    You saw her? I asked, suddenly alarmed.


    No. Used augury, similar to when she was chasing us through the Sanctum. Kept it up for nearly half a year. Multiple times a day. It would have been hard to keep up the act if we knew.


    Sorry, I said again, coming up short on anything else.


    Save the apologies. Jorra gave me a knowing look. Losing you was hells. But she took it way harder than I did.


    He didnt have to say anything more. I dreaded seeing Maya, nearly as much as I looked forward to it. Id spent hours thinking of what to say, how to explain myself, and eventually came to the conclusion this was something I couldnt talk my way out of. It was entirely up to her, and whatever she decided.


    My anxiety must have shown because, for the first time since our reunion, Jorra laughed. Even if it was at my expense. I dont envy you. But even if she never wants to see you again, youll always be my brother.


    A warmth and appreciation for Jorra ran through me. A final acceptance of how much I missed them.


    Precept looks good on you. Very mature.


    Shut up.

 Chapter 136: Pyrrhic VI

    Chapter 136: Pyrrhic VI


    As we grew closer to the exit of the tunnel, I could feel a weight lift from my chest. Jorra had clearly matured, and it showed. His gait was confident and self-assured, and he had outgrown that petty twist in his personality that led him to brooding and holding grudges.


    Wed regained some of our previous camaraderie in a matter of hours.


    One for the lift. Jorra called ahead. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Groups of four or more unless its an emergency, precept. You know the rules. The answering infernal was wearing xescalt armor, his helmet placed aside as he leafed through an aging document.


    I caught Jorras arm before he could bring attention to the obvious. Just one?


    Jorra paused, confused, before understanding filtered into his expression. He smiled. Its been years. You expected to just come back after years, and Id follow you like nothing had changed?


    I expected nothing. I tilted my head from side to side. Probably more accurate to say that I hoped. Theres no one Id rather have by my side when the cards are down.


    Jorra nodded thoughtfully. And I will be. But that wont be for some time. He gave me a curious glance. Where are you headed next?


    With the way things were, I intended to fix the dimension gate and then depart for Molheim. Or Naikolhdur. However


    King Gil on the warpath screws with that plan. Jorra mused. Itd be hard to leverage the dwarves for aid if youre publicly on the run. How are you going to deal with your father?


    Still piecing it together. I studied him discreetly as he mulled over the problem. Theres nothing I can offer you? We both know Im not above bribery.


    Now that you mention it, Ive always wanted a horse. The crabs we use for transport down here are unsettling.


    Done. Runic short-hair, superior bloodline. I immediately offered.


    Jorra laughed. If that meant anything to me, Im sure Id be impressed


    You would. I interjected.


    but no, Cairn. I have to stay. As a precept, I have responsibilities. There are more than a dozen children in my care,and I cant follow youacross the continent. Besides, there are too many resources here that Id lose access to if I left. I wouldnt be able to train and prepare the same way I could here. I cannot forgive myself ifI find myself lacking ever again. A shadow darkened his face.


    The guilt he was feeling was a mirror of my own. I tried to comfort him. Nothing that happened was your fault. We all fought like hell. At the end of the day, Thoth is a grandmaster, and we were just learning the rules .


    Jorras lip curled. That doesnt change reality. That weI stood by, helpless, as she tore you to pieces. And I will never let that happen again.


    There was a ferocity in his voice that resonated. His determination reminded me of a similar drive Id felt after witnessing the desolation of Whitefall. A burning fire that had never dimmed.


    I clasped his arm. Then I look forward to seeing the man you become. Whether its months from now, or at the end of all things.


    He gripped mine in return, some darkness leaving his expression. Keep me in the loop. Ill keep scouring the libraries and the sanctum,and look for anything that might help tip the scales.


    I turned away from him, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.


    Lord below. The guard attending the lift stared at me, gobsmacked. It was an expression Id probably be seeing a lot of, once I entered the enclave.


    Do we need to go back and grab three more? I jerked my thumb at the tunnel.


    We could talk three of the children into returning to say a second tearful goodbye to their parents, if youre really going to be that much of a stickler. Jorra added dryly.


    I uhI didntRight this way. Happy to make an exception for the Bearer of the Sacred flame. The guard extended a hand towards the platform. I inwardly groaned at the moniker. Of all the things they could have called me, it had to be that.


    Jorra snorted, accompanying me to the platform, stopping at the edge. Your legend precedes you.


    Dont start.


    The guard rang a dark brass bell covered with inscriptions. There was a series of grinding clicks, and the platform began to rise.


    As the platform ascended, I waved down at Jorra. Goodbye for now, my friend.


    Be well, brother. Jorra tilted his head. As the lift rose ever higher, his features became harder and harder to make out. Once I could barely make him out in the darkness, he was gone.


    ***


    Another voice, coy and feminine. Persephone. Quick to violence as always, surprising absolutely no one.


    Its the most strategically sound option.


    For simple minds, perhaps.


    Oh, please, tell us. The floor is yours. What would the common criminal propose? Guemon scoffed.


    Anything but common, though I accept that stooping to personal attacks is the only manner in which your unexacting ego can negotiate. My operatives within Whitefall can be signaled in a matter of hours. The queen is unreachable, but the potential heirs are a simpler matter.


    There was a moment of silence before the room exploded.


    You have spies inside the castle walls? Guemon sounded like he was choking.


    Take a wild guess where the early warning came from. Persephone shot back.


    Another voice spoke. If I hadnt just left her behind in the sanctum, I could have sworn it was Nethtari. Calm and collected, with just a touch of monotone. We are not taking the late princes sisters as hostages. Or anything worse, for that matter.


    Shocking. The bleeding-heart emissary couldnt leave her sentimentality at the door. Persephone mocked.


    You dare to command your betters? Guemon snarled.


    The voice snapped back. As my betters, you should both be intimately familiar with potential consequences of what you are proposing. King Gils son died in our care. Whether that care was negligent or otherwise is besides the point. He wants recompense, but he likely desires the truth beyond all else. That is our leverage. I imagine you would pay almost any sum to know the truth of why the adversary chose to kill Bacchus


    Do not speak his name. Persephone hissed.


    From the woman launching accusations of sentimentality. Perhaps it would be best to tend your own garden first. Returning to the point, human royalty died in our care. That is bad enough, but as I said, we have leverage. That leverage disappears the moment we act against his heirs. Even if he backs down for the moment, there will be no quarter. He will not stop until we are eradicated.


    Surrounded by mewling women. I could almost hear Guemon rolling his eyes. Fine, emissary. What is it that you propose?


    The emissary paused. I intend to take a small advance caravan to open negotiations with King Gil.


    Persephone snorted. More death warrant than plan. Theres a reason the diplomatic core advised against sending someone to intercept.


    Uncharacteristically, Guemon dropped the bluster. King Gil has a history of killing messengers. To the point its a near certainty.


    Yes.


    Yet, this is the course youre advising?


    I have several pieces of information that are invaluable to him. A detailed account of the princes final days, a first-hand chronicle of the adversary, as well as a proposition he cannot overlook. All of which may be enough to stay his hand.


    And naturally, you refuse to tell us what that gilded arrow is? Persephone sighed.


    When the emissary didnt answer, Guemon picked up the slack. It may not come to that. If he kills you before youre able to impart your message. Hes done it before.


    Then you and your regiments can still ambush the humans before they emerge from the Everwood. They outnumber us. If negotiations fail, that may be our best hope. There was no doubt or fear in the womans voice, even as she took the possibility that my father might kill her in stride. Based on what she was saying, it had to be Maya. But she sounded so different, I could barely connect the voice with my memory of her.


    The thought of dying doesnt scare you, emissary? Guemon sounded genuinely curious.


    If we dont unify and keep the corruption at bay, Im already dead, councillor. We all are. Maya said, matter-of-factly.


    The weight of realization bore down on me.


    Towards the end of our time in the Sanctum, Maya had pulled back. The discovery of the leyline corruption leading us towards the inevitability of Ragnarok, coupled with her revelation of the monster she became in the original timeline, would have been too much for anyone. Learning the darkness she was capable of had scared her so badly shed planned to stay in the sanctum permanently.


    Only after I died, her plans had changed.


    Maya had taken my mission on her shoulders. And shed been preparing for it all this time. What does a person even say about that? Thanks and appreciation werent enough. All the apologies in the world werent enough. Suddenly, I wasnt remotely ready to see her. I needed time to sort through it.


    But as was so often the case, time wasnt on my side.


    Ralakos threw the doors open. Look who I found, darkening our doorstep.

 Chapter 137: Pyrrhic VII

    Chapter 137: Pyrrhic VII


    Holy hells. Guemon breathed out.


    I glanced around the room, intentionally avoiding Mayas expression for the moment. Guemon and Persephone were much as I remembered them, though there were minor changes. Guemon was still a rotund, brash looking man. At some point in my absence, one of his horns had broken off, making his appearance asymmetrical and slightly unhinged.


    Persephone looked far worse for wear. Id once found the bisected nature that reflected her heritage an interesting dichotomythe left side of her face was comprised of dark chitin, while the right side a half-visage of a beautiful violet infernal woman. Terror and beauty isolated in features split directly down the middle. The demon hadnt changed much, but the woman had developed dark bags under her eyes, and she toyed with a xescalt flask in her lap.


    Despite being generally tough as hell, she was clearly still grieving the loss of her son.


    Maya, on the other hand, was utterly inscrutable. Her expression was set in an almost regal apathy, and her dark hair was cut short, tied back in a severe ponytail. The resemblance she shared with her mother was far more striking than before, and she now had a self-assured air that replaced the kindly, nervous atmosphere she previously projected.


    I spoke on instinct before anyone paid heed to my gawking. Id strongly advise against sending a messenger to sue for negotiations. Guemon is correct. It wont end well.


    The Sanctum was good to you. Persephone observed quietly.


    Guemon pressed a hand to his forehead. Well, happy fucking resurrection and welcome back to the fray. What the hells, Ralakos. How long were you hiding this under your tabard? He glared at the elder.


    I didnt know. Ralakos shook his head. If I were to guess, only a few elders in the Sanctum were aware. And they tend to hold their secrets close.


    Time is short. I interjected, trying to skip over the initial shock.


    Yes. We do not have the luxury of mincing words. Maya said, her voice perfectly even. Thus, I would question the wisdom of bringing an outsiderin hiding for years, cut off from all information and news from the outside worldinto a war council at such a critical moment.


    Persephone chortled to herself as Guemon stared at Maya, as confused as I was. Hes the human heir. Groomed for that very purpose. Even if his knowledge is out of date, he still holds a far more profound understanding of their politics and insight into the king than any of us.


    It was a strange inversion of how I expected this to go. Guemon was defending me while Maya took the offensive, instead of the other way around.


    What Cairn holds, Mayas calm cracked, showing a hint of cold fury beneath. Is an over-inflated sense of importance and self-aggrandizement. Any authority he possesses is immediately undermined by the man marching an army to the enclave. If anything, his presence places us in greater danger. Unless, of course, hes willing to cut bait and return home.


    I dont see a way around that, to be honest. I admitted.


    Because you have another angle. Maya gave me an unimpressed look.


    No. I shrugged. I needed to return to Whitefall eventually. There are matters that require my attention, and have been unchecked for too long. I glanced at Guemon and Persephone. My intent was to do so after my accolades had grownmore leverage that waybut I suspect the only thing that will stop my father now is the return of a son he thought dead.


    Were we all so lucky. Persephone took a long pull from her flask, and didnt bother refastening the cover.


    Unless I was reading her wrong, Mayas disposition grew even more frigid.


    Id like to fix the dimension gate before I go. I said, holding out my palm and letting violet flame dance across my palm in complex patterns. Ive fully mastered the Dantalions third stage. Will we have time for the repairs before my father arrives?


    A sense of gloom overcame the inhabitants, answering the question before anyone spoke.


    They did an excellent job mimicking the sort of styling popular amongst human royals, and by the time they were done I barely recognized myself.


    Kilvius stopped in briefly to welcome me back, though he didnt stay long. It turned out he was working with Persephone now. Though he was vague on the specifics.


    Ralakos stood with his hands behind my back in the parlor of what were once my rooms. A sense of nostalgia washed over me as I approached the bookshelves, running my fingers across their weathered spines. I missed this place. The wealth of knowledge just pages away. I found a few libraries within the Sanctum chambers, but they were mostly written in languages unknown to me. Or archaic demonic. Which is


    Devilish? Ralakos joked.


    Yes. Almost entirely different from the language now. I turned to him. Any news from Bellarex?


    Ralakoss expression darkened. I cant say Im pleased with your handling of her. Especially considering what happened to her father. There is only so much a person can take.


    I cringed, a wave of familiar guilt resurfacing. Our options were limited. But yes. It wasnt ideal.


    Ralakos sighed, the darkness subsiding, and strode to the bookcase, seemingly looking for one book in particular. There were sporadic letters. Coded. The cypher wasnt particularly complex, and I imagine if she was caught sending them, that would have been the end for her. Unfortunately, the adversary seems to keep her on a long lead and well outside the inner circle. Still, Bellarex was able to confirm Thoths movements, eventually confirming her plans to leave the continent. Subsequently, nothing. Thats to be expected. The cost of sending a missive overseas is astronomical. The councillor plucked a book from the bookcase and opened it, revealing a hollowed-out section that contained several letters, organized by date. You might get more out of them than I did. Take them. I made copies.


    I took the letters gingerly, committing to comb through them at the earliest opportunity. It was the least I could do. A mix of guilt and curiosity got the better of me.


    Did she seem alright? In the letters?


    Ralakos rubbed his forehead. For the first time, the kindly visage fell away, revealing the tired person beneath. He looked almost frail. Shes conflicted. Understandably. In her eyes, she killed a dear friend at his behest to save her people, only for those same people to exile and pelt her with stones. How do you think shes doing?


    I think I hesitated, the letters feeling heavy in my hand, When Thoth returns to Uskar, we need to extract her as soon as possible.


    Yes. Assuming she even wants to return.


    What?


    Just read through the letters when you can. Ralakos waved my questions away.


    I was about to push for more information when a knock at the door interrupted us.


    Come in. Ralakos answered.


    A violet, middle-age infernal in full xescalt plate stuck his head in the door. Is he here?


    My jaw dropped as I recognized him as Ralakoss son. A son that was meant to be dead.


    Xarmos? Youre alive? I couldnt keep the incredulity out of my voice.


    Xarmos feigned hurt. You wound me, Cairn. I never doubted your return. And from the look of you, Ive been waiting far longer.

 Chapter 138: Pyrrhic VIII

    Chapter 138: Pyrrhic VIII


    I could hardly believe my eyes. One of the first interactions Id had with Ralakos was a reflection on the warring histories of our peoples. Hed shown me a monument built from the horns of fallen infernals. Most notably, a pair that belonged to his son.


    During the trial of Infaris, I had been transported to a place beyond time alongside Xarmos, whod taken the trial decades before me. We took the trial on side by side, eventually completing it together. Towards the end, Id given him a potion of expansiona special mix of ingredients exclusive to the Sanctumon the off-chance it might avert his fate.


    But in truth, Id never expected it to work.


    He clasped my arm and I returned the gesture numbly, looking towards Ralakos for help. The elder laughed.


    Xarmos told me to keep an eye out for you, years ago. He was also terrified and convinced he could die at any moment.


    Father, Xarmos groaned.


    Wait. My mind raced. If Xarmos was alive, that meant the flow of time had beenaltered. How significant that change was, I had no way of knowing. But even small changes could have massive repercussions.


    What had I done?


    I never mentioned it to you, and convinced Xarmos to stay awaythough that was no small effort. Ralakos glanced at his son, and Xarmos adjusted his armor sheepishly. When any hint of chronal magic is involved, Ive learned its best to err on the side of caution.


    I took a moment to puzzle through it. Before Id gone into the Sanctum, Xarmos was dead. Only after the trial of Infaris had the timeline shiftedcreating a version of events where Xarmos survived, and Ralakos kept him away from me before my entry into the Sanctum to avoid complicating events further.


    After asking both Ralakos and Xarmos a series of questions, I was able to more or less confirm that everything that happened in the Enclave and Sanctum remained the same.


    There was a rapid tapping at the window. A small bird with blue eyes that glowed like gems rapped insistently, a small piece of paper in its beak. Ralakos opened the window and took the tiny message, unrolling the paper and reading it silently. After a moment, he spoke. As much as Id love to draw this out, there are matters to attend to. Youll see Cairn to the front?


    Of course, father. Xarmos beckoned for me to follow him.


    I followed as we exited Ralakoss estate. Xarmoss pace was energetic, almost to the point he had a visible skip in his step. Instead of heading towards the entry portal, he turned left, leading me deeper into the city.


    Where are we going? I asked. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Where else? Xarmos looked back and wiggled an eyebrow. The armory.


    That made sense, though the idea was strange. It felt like it had been a lifetime since Id had a proper set of armor. Id outgrown the chitin set Kilvius and Nethtari gifted me after the first year in the Sanctum, and hadnt managed to procure a replacement.


    The few times Id died in the sanctum almost always came down to either running out of mana or not having enough armor.


    So, I shot Xarmos a scowl. Youve just been sitting around with a thumb up your ass this entire time?


    Hardly. Xarmos shoved me playfully. His face grew serious. Ive been tied up in a territorial dispute with the Hellhound legion. Weve been getting reports of sightings near the Zarian cloister. Far more than normal, well outside their usual territory. At first, we thought they were preparing to rebel and attack the cloister.


    Wouldnt be the first time. I said darkly.


    Right. He pointed to me. That business with the Decarabian legion in the Sanctum scared the living hells out of everyone, and we finally got the go-ahead to push them back. It was a long campaign. Hellhounds arent to be trifled with in ordinary circumstances, and they seemed utterly committed to holding their ground. Wasnt long before we discovered whycoming through!


    The guards in front of the massive compound that housed the infernal armory bowed to Xarmos and opened the doors before us. A musty smell reached my nose as the doors opened, hundreds of dark golden weapons lined the walls, along with armor and other artifacts.


    Turns out, they were sitting on a massive underground network of xescalt. Had been for quite some time. Xarmos said, looking over the armory proudly.


    The servants finished with the last of the armor. I tested it, finding the range of motion and quietness of the movement surprising. When I voiced this to Xarmos, he lifted the plate on the shoulder and pointed out a circular inscription beneath.


    Like I wouldnt account for the fact that youre a sneaky bastard. Xarmos grinned.


    You really shouldnt have. It wasnt a platitude. Between the inscriptions, arcane gems, and wyvern leather, the armor had to be exorbitantly expensive. Id feel better if you let me pay you for it


    No Xarmos interjected sternly. I have a wife and child, a family. A peaceful and fulfilling existence that likely would have never come to pass without your interference. I didnt understand the risk you were taking until much later. This is literally the least I can do.


    Thank you, Xarmos.


    He put a hand on my shoulder. Look. It might be rough right now, but you know who was there, every time I visited your grave? Keeping it tidy, or studying, or napping against the tree?


    Guilt washed over me. I can guess.


    Shell come around. Xarmos insisted.


    As much as I cared about Maya, I couldnt help but think about the danger Id put her in. The pain Id caused her. As it was, I doubted she had any intention of accompanying me back to Whitefall as wed planned.


    Maybe that was for the best.


    ***


    A few hours later, the sun beat down on me. I was sweating from the heat, having grown overly accustomed to the mostly temperate chambers of the Sanctum.


    Xarmos advised me to keep my helmet on, to avoid distracting the troops.


    It soothed my tattered nerves somewhat that the reinforcements had not disappointed. There were thousands lined up behind battlements and in towers, ballista with glowing-blue payloads pointed at the tree-line miles away.


    A muted horn sounded three times.


    One of Guemons lieutenants flew by on horseback, screaming for the men to form up.


    There was a cacophony of clinking metal as countless infernals in full plate stood at attention, the atmosphere of anticipation growing ever thicker.


    I looked to Xarmos for confirmation. His face was hidden behind his helmet, but there was a grim readiness in his eyes.


    Is that


    Theyre here. Xarmos confirmed.


    I watched anxiously as my fathers tall white warhorse stepped out from the tree-line. The reports were correct. He was clad in his conquerors regalia, a regiment of cavalry in his wake.


    Much had happened since Thoth ambushed my carriage. Id learned to use magic, clashed with corrupt nobles, negotiated with demons, and stared death in the face over and over. But nothing compared to the fear I felt facing my father on the battlefield.


    If this went poorly, everything Id worked for over the course of years could be gone in a matter of hours.


    It all came down to this.

 Chapter 139: Pyrrhic IX

    Chapter 139: Pyrrhic IX


    My confidence withered and began to fail me as I stared across the field.. This was my father, after all. Id watched him carve through armies like butter, shrug off spells that would have killed a normal man. Using the line of infernal infantry as cover, I bent down and unleashed tiny violet sparks, hidden within the grass.


    Twenty was my safe limit. Instead of setting the grass alight, I kept their potency as low as possible. They singed individual blades of grass as they spread to the sides of the infantry forming two parallel lines that raced towards my fathers men.


    I held my breath. If any of the soldiers in my fathers army spotted the spark, this would be seen as a clear act of hostility. Keeping that in mind, I spread them out further. If there was anything to be glad about this situation, it would be that this was happening in the early afternoon, when the sun was brightest. The sparks would barely be visible.


    When there was no visible reaction from the oncoming calvary, I guided the sparks as close as I could get them without moving them out of range.


    After they reached the outer limit, I stalled them a little less than halfway across the field. Ralakos drew close to me, looking down in concern. His plate shifted as he opened his visor. Are you ready?


    Yes.


    Xarmos and I mounted the small horses theyd saved for us, and I tried not to think of what my father would say about the unimpressive mounts. If I spent the requisite time to correct everything King Gil might perceive as weakness, Id have to schedule around ragnarok.


    Ill be accompanying you. Maya approached, riding a horse I recognized as the mare that had been my steed when Id accompanied the rangers. She was unarmored, wearing a simple tunic with the xescalt staff mounted on her back. Her expression was calm and utterly unreadable. Should negotiations fail, I still have that card to play.


    I stared at her in surprise. If push comes to shove, hell kill you to make a point. Both of you. I glanced at Xarmos. Its better if you stay.


    Havent we had this argument already? Xarmos shook his head. Having infernals with you creates an image of support. If you go alone, it will just look as if were using you as a shield. Youve shielded us enough.


    Not enough time to talk them out of it. Ill reset if I need to.


    Fine. Stay behind me and do nothing to draw attention to yourselves. I kicked the heels of the unimpressive mare and it startled into a gallop. The line of infantry ahead parted, allowing us through.


    My heart raced as I held up a gray banner. I knew innately how unlikely it was that wed achieve an ideal outcome here. My father hungered for battle. Craved it. Once hed made up his mind to engage, I could count the number of times hed backed down on one hand with fingers to spare.


    And most of those were temporary, due to overwhelming odds.


    Pounding hoofbeats were the only audible noise as we crossed the field, slowing as we reached the halfway point.


    Behind my father, a mass of archers were already drawing their bows, arrows at the ready.


    I stopped at the halfway point. My fingers stumbled over the clasps in my haste to remove my helmet. When Id unfastened it, I held it at my side, staring defiantly at my father.


    The reaction was instantaneous.


    An audible uproar from the human troops escalated until the king raised an open hand and curled it into a fist. The men fell silent instantly, as if their tongues were cut out.


    I held my breath. If he threw his fist down, the archers would shoot. Now that I thought about it, that was a real possibility. I had no idea what his reaction to my letters had been, or opinion on my exploits. It wouldnt necessarily be beyond him to write me off entirely, consider his heir tainted by the enemy.


    King Gil lowered his fist slowly. He drew his massive zweihander with one hand and rested it over his shoulders, manipulating the reins with one hand. The weapon was notorious, bordering on legend, as he had used it in nearly every battle and conquest over the last forty years, yet never given it a name. As his legend had grown, the common folk had begun to call the sword, Unsung.


    He drew closer at a slow trot. I could feel the weight of his eyes beneath his helmet. His horse towered over mine. Eventually, he removed his helmet in turn.


    The last time I saw my father, he was dead on the palace floor, bleeding from dozens of wounds. Seeing him face me now, his back straight and looming over me, I could feel a bubbling mix of relief, and fear well up in me. . He was every bit the indomitable conqueror that I remembered.


    What was your sisters first word? My father rumbled. His voice was disturbingly neutral.


    I should have expected this. He was being careful, confirming it was actually me and not an illusion of some sort.


    Which one? I asked immediately, regretting the obvious nervousness in my voice. When he didnt answer, I carried on. Seras first word was Crown. Annettes was Mother.


    What did I tell you of Kings and the lessers who orbit them? He looked back, towards Xarmos and Maya.


    My hand moved subconsciously towards the hilt of my sword. A king has no friends. Only allies.


    A low, seething anger seeped into King Gils voice. And when I told you of how I rebelled against my father, and approached the mountain folk of Elgan as a bannerless nomad to study their weaknessesan example you cited so brazenly in that damnable letterhow long did I spend with them?


    Somehow, I got the feeling that this last question had very little to do confirming anything. Uh. A year?


    A year. Take that, will you, and compare it to the five years youve been gone. Off your horse. My father kicked a leg over and dropped off his horse, sheathing his zweihander.


    Cairn, Maya called in alarm.


    Stay back. I whispered, using a burst of air magic to carry my voice to her ears.


    Off your fucking horse. My father shouted, stalking towards me.


    I barely had time to dismount before I saw the blurring gold of a vicious backhand. It caught me in the chin, and I nearly toppled from the weight of the blow.


    Stand up. My father commanded.


    Not again.


    Xarmoss horse had startled, nearly throwing him off.


    Maya reacted incredibly quickly, weaving clear light into an aegis that shielded her body, repeating the action three more times and creating a repetitive layer of arcane shields before the arrows hit in quick succession. The first two shields shattered with a high pitched keen. Several arrows drifted low, striking her horse in the chest, sending it screaming to the ground and bringing Maya with it.


    I started to draw my sword. Then stopped. My father held his fist up, stopping the archers. He studied Maya. Curious. Naming my court physician as your final words.


    Maya grunted as she hauled herself to her feet, using the dying horse to push herself up. Weve been in contact for nearly a year. I was the one to tell warn him of Queen Elarias possible blood sickness, and treatments.


    King Gils arm twitched. He held up three fingers, and my ears popped. When he spoke again, it sounded as if the three of us were locked together in a small, echoing room. You are playing a dangerous game.


    I am well aware of the stakes. Maya placed a hand on her horse. Green light streamed from her palm, illuminating the animals musculature as it reformed, damage repairing itself. We thought Cairn dead at the hand of the adversary. Considering the price he paid to protect us, attempting to prevent the death of his mother was the least I could do.


    What treatments did you advise, life mage? King Gil asked. Again, his


    Maya hesitated. A salve of freya poppy to suppress the pain. Ironwart and firebane to aid with the internal hemorrhaging. And a descending regimen of golden lotus to keep the disease from worsening in the short-term.


    Why the descending regimen? The King pressed her.


    Because of the reverse tolerance and toxicity.


    It wouldnt heal my mother completely, but it was a clever stopgap. One that had probably already bought my mother more time than she had in my original timeline. It made sensebut it wasnt a natural conclusion, Id never heard of it despite no small amount of investigation and reading on the matter. Maya must have spent an ungodly amount of time researching a solution.


    Because of the inverse tolerance and toxic nature of the plant. More is required initially, but keeping the dosage static would be lethal over an extended period of time. Maya said, more or less confirming my thoughts.


    As my father absorbed her answer, his lip curled. That feckless cunt. I found it suspicious, when after years of seemingly unconnected symptoms he was suddenly able to form a diagnosis. My gratitude, life mage. When I return to Whitefall, Evenwind will get exactly what he deserves. I despise corrupt administrators who take credit for the efforts of others.


    No. Maya said emphatically.


    My father cocked his head. No?


    Her calm demeanor cracked. I presented myself through a human messenger as an eclectic mage who did not wish to be named. Sten simply did his due diligence and confirmed my findings. He even offered me a position at court as his assistant, which I declined. For obvious reasons.


    Those reasons being? King Gil demanded.


    That the sitting king would not trust the ministrations of a demon-fucker. Maya spat.


    My heart sank. Shed presented herself well up to that point. But my father would not take such a response passively. Especially from someone he considered to be so far below him.


    A chill went down my spine as King Gil began to chuckle, darkly. The chuckle grew into a guffaw, long and heady. The echoing auditory effect remained, implying our conversation was being suppressed from anyone who might be trying to listen in. He glanced at me. The infernal came to play. He then refocused on Maya, leaving me behind as he strode towards her. Repaying my son was only a fortunate entailment. You speak too well to be a rank and file healer, life mage. My guess, youre a trained ambassador of sorts. You intended to come to Whitefall eventually on your own. Ingratiate yourself to my physician and my court with the intent of angling for an alliance. Healing my queen is your ultimate point of leverage.


    That is correct. Maya admitted.


    And now youve repurposed the framework of your scheme to buy the prince time. Only, it seems youve overplayed your hand and made the mistake of letting me close the distance. I can seize you easily. He towered over Maya, jerking a thumb at me, And judging from how the prince tried to defend you from my archers, Im guessing you matter to him. He wont remain if I take you. Id be killing two fowl at the cost of one.


    The draw was lightning fast. So quick and natural Maya must have practiced it, over and over. A razor sharp dagger appeared in her hand, pressed hard against her throat. You must be aware of the rarity of my kind.


    Fascinating. King Gil reached towards her, and stopped as Mayas arm tensed, dagger drawing blood. Would you? Truly?


    Mayas eyes flashed. I have been captured once before, for my talents. It will not happen again.


    Clever. Committed. Fast on your feet. Commendable attributes in any individual. But this is a bluff. My father shook his head.


    Try me and see. Maya looked at me. And I realized her intent. As my father reached towards her, she tilted her head towards the sky and closed her eyes, murmuring a silent prayer. Her body tightened.


    Stop. King Gil spun on his heel and returned to me. Maya lowered her arm, a thin line of red where the dagger had broken the skin.


    My father stood beside me, facing his army. When he spoke, his voice was pitched low enough that only I could hear. Rare indeed.


    As shaken as I was from the display, I couldnt let Mayas efforts go to waste. Your terms? I asked coldly.


    King Gil didnt look at me. He seemed lost in thought. He spoke again, projecting loudly. You have a day. The healer stays here. Stall a moment longer and I kill them all. And Ill save that one the inconvenience of cutting her own throat.


    Anger raged through me She doesnt


    We accept these terms, your grace. Maya walked towards my fathers army, giving me a meaningful look as she passed. The meaning was clear.


    Dont waste this.


    I swore silently, then mounted my horse and raced back towards the enclave, Xarmos following in my wake.

 Chapter 140: Pyrrhic X

    Chapter 140: Pyrrhic X


    My heart thundered like a war-drum in my ears from across the clearing to the portal, down to the Enclaves central reaches until I reached the Councils compound.


    The implication was that Maya would be safe so long as I stayed within the time limit. While it wasnt directly said, it was implied. Problem was, while my father was capable of perceiving and employing subtext, he seemed to relish pretending they didnt exist.


    Id watched him go back on countless verbal agreements and alliances whenever it suited him.


    Maya wasnt safe. If she said the wrong thing? If my father tired of the shade of her skin or the horns on her head?


    The drumbeat in my ears deepened as I tossed my helmet aside and ran down the Councils long corridor, descending the stairs three at a time. Someone clipped my elbow. From the blur in my vision, I saw them stumble. I called out an apology, but did not stop until I reached the massive double doors that let to the dimension gates sitting room.


    There was a crowd of researchers and mages milling around the dimension gate. Several were working on the gate itselftwo fire mages wearing goggles stood atop a platform, bright red lines of concentrated late emitting from their fingers as they fused something together.


    Ralakos was already there, having read between the lines when he saw us returning one rider short. Can we do this in a day? I tossed my helmet to the side, unable to banish the nauseating parallels that plagued my mind.


    Maya surrendering herself into my fathers army.


    Lillian carried away by his honor guard.


    Its theoretically possible, yes. Ralakos confirmed, though he looked anything but certain. That is the time we have?


    I shook my head. Deduct an hour to be safe. If Im only a minute lateeven if he sees me coming, it wont matter.


    I stood before the massive gate. Surrounded by dark stone, it was a mix of dwarven technology and infernal craftsmanship. Large metal tines extended up from the base, forming a large oval severed on the top left diagonal corner. I saw a flash of complicated components before the two fire mages secured a panel.


    A dwarf waddled in, with dark hair that looked more dyed than legitimate. Ye bastards better have a reason for waking me at this ungodly hour.


    Ralakos intercepted him smoothly, guiding him to the gate. It is well past noon, Stonekin. The sun has been up for some time.


    Sun dont matter when ye live underground. The dwarf groused, wresting his arm from Ralakoss grip. Whats this about, then?


    We need to get the dimension gate working. Now.


    The dwarf gave me a demeaning glance. And I need a hornless missus who isnt twice my height and doesnt appear to be in varying stages of asphyxiation, but ye dont see me makin that your problem, do ye?


    What?


    Unfortunately, Prince Cairn is correct, Titus. Our window of opportunity has narrowed significantly. Ralakos said.


    Well, shit. The dwarf clapped his face with both hands, blinking the sleep away. Best get started, then.


    ***


    We worked tirelessly, well into the night. There were more complex tasks for me to do later, but for now, my role was to use the third stage of the flame to recharge the inert batteries that drew from the dantalion.


    When there was nothing left for me to do until the main event, I left Vogrin to assist the dwarf and went out the side entrance for air and a nip of vurseng.


    Less than a half-year before my father destroyed it.


    Such a good head on those tiny shoulders. Veldani said. When she sagged a little, I bent down and scooped her up. She was small, like me. And so kind to the Elders. Even the addled, ornery folk that had lost themselves. I miss her dearly.


    Youll see her again soon. Just hold on. Even if we were able to repair the gate in time, I wasnt confident that was true. Morthus had been relatively young by Elder standards when he left the Sanctum and reentered it. When I saw him again after a few years had passed, it was as if hed aged a century. And he was a fraction of Veldanis age.


    That was the reason Elder Veldani, perhaps the sole master of the dantalion-flame that remained on this plane, had never attempted to repair the gate. Because there was a high likelihood shed die as soon as she left the Sanctum. That she still drew breath even now was a miracle in and of itself.


    Why did you leave? I asked, not quite managing to mask the pain in my voice. The Elders at the hospice needed you. That was the whole point of training me, wasnt it? To carry on your legacy?


    Veldanis blurred expression had sharpened at the mention of the hospice. She looked away, embarrassed. It wasnt the same with Morthus gone. I found someone to take my place. A talented violet who retired from the council, though I tried not to hold that against him. Hell take things from here. And when I heard you were leaving, I wanted to see my teaching bear fruit for once. To see my little Anglisse again. It was about time to hang it up, anyway. Veldani laughed, her mirth dissolving in a fitful cough. Ive worked longer in the Sanctum than most infernals have in their lifetime. She clung to me through another coughing fit, one louder and more painful than before.


    Theres an apothecary on the way. Just hang on. I pushed the door open with my back.


    Im an apothecary. Youre an apothecary. Why do we need another why Veldanis eyes went dull. Why are you carrying me?


    Training, master. I struggled to keep my fingers from tightening. Strong magic requires a strong vessel, does it not?


    I suppose it does. Veldani said, as if the idea was new to her. As if she hadnt repeated it to me like a mantra, countless times before.


    ***


    Oi! If youve finished faffing about The dwarf had moved to confront me and trailed off when he saw Veldani in my arms. Ralakos slid between us to take Veldani from me, his face mournful. I watched as he took her to the corner of the room, catching a few words between them.


    What have you done, you old fool


    Old! Have you seen your reflection recently, Rala?


    There was a small burst of pained laughter.


    Friend of yers? Titus said, his ire entirely forgotten.


    I rolled up my sleeves and sized up the dimension gate. A teacher and a friend. Where do you need me?


    Tituss mouth turned downward in distaste. Some salvageable components turned out to be not so salvageable.


    I clenched a fist. How did we not know about this earlier?


    He grunted. No way to know until the juice was flowing. And with the ancient design philosophy, theyre not exactly the sort of thing we can just pop out, so those two are burning them down. The dwarf pointed to the fire mages, both sweating heavily as molten components dripped into a waiting. Puttin ye in the mix will speed things up a bit, but not that much. And yer friend dont look so good. If ye need to attend to her, thats understandable.


    I stared at Veldani, struggling to accept the truth.


    The only thing I could do for her now was focus on making sure her efforts werent wasted.


    Show me where you need me.

 Chapter 141: Pyrrhic XI

    Chapter 141: Pyrrhic XI


    Casikas arrived with a massive satchel, shortly after I went to work on the gate. The bumbling red infernal gave me an apologetic wave and went straight to Veldani, pulling several potions out of the pack. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he tipped her head back and poured two of them down her throat.


    Veldani suddenly reanimated, snatching the third potion from his clutches. She proceeded to tear into the apothecary over his bedside manner, the quality of the potion, and his brewing and grinding methods, while Ralakos tried to calm her and Casikas laughed nervously.


    After Veldani drank the third potion, she pulled a section of papyrus bound with a leather strap from her robe and reluctantly handed it to Casikas.


    The apothecary opened the bundle and withdrew a silver petaled flower, his mouth slack in wonder.


    Need ye to top off the batteries again.


    On it. I returned to the work.


    The evening progressed alarmingly quickly.


    Xarmos stopped in briefly with a dozen servants in tow bearing platters of food, providing a much-needed respite. Ralakos and Veldani spent much of the interim arguing, shooting glances in my direction as I scarfed down a few pieces of bread and some meat. There were more decadent options on the spread, but it was better to keep my mind sharp. At some point, Casikas had disappeared, leaving his satchel behind.


    Night turned to dawn. There were no windows in the chamber, so we lacked even the infernals artificial sun for reference, our sense of time derived entirely from Ralakoss pocket watch.


    I pulled the collar of my shirt up to wipe my sweat covered face.


    Send another pulse through the base again? Titus requested from somewhere above me. He sounded oddly aggravated.


    I summoned a small spark at the base of the left side. It passed through a section of crystal and traveled beyond my sight through the panelling. Then suddenly, it winked out. As it had every time before.


    Confounded ancestors! Broodmother claw my feckin eyes out! Titus kicked a piece of scrap metal, sending it careening across the stone floor until it crashed into the side wall, breathing heavily.


    Whats the problem, Titus? Ralakos had risen to his feet during the commotion.


    Problem is, the feckin pathways are shot. There were one that looked promising, but its a durgins ass, just like the rest.


    Cant we just remove the panelling and address the issue? I asked.


    We could. The dwarf looked down at the bottom section of the gate. If that wasnt high metal. The primordial gits decided they best put extra care into protecting the pathways, with no feckin foresight on what would happen when future generations needed to repair it.


    There was a reason it was a fools errand to make plate armor out of high metal, despite the materials incredible strength and durability. If someone wearing high metal plate had the misfortune of running into something capable of damaging the armor enough to trap them in it, it was essentially a death sentence. There were means of cutting through high metal, but none that would leave the weareror the sensitive components within a planar gate, for our purposesunharmed.


    Titus shook his head. Worst part is, we really only need them to get this bastard started. Once the magic begins to flow, itll naturally find its way to the receiving crystals. Only now, the pathways are doing the opposite of what theyre supposed to do. Keeping magic out, instead of in.


    Then we have to burn through them.


    Casikas ran a hand through his thinning hair, only making the strands more wild. Decent enough. Quiet without you banging around. I should probably get another apprentice. He glanced at the bottle in my hands worriedly. Can we call that even on your backpay?


    I snorted. Id spent a portion of my first few years in the enclave working for Casikas, honing my rusty and amateurish craft into something respectably professional. He was an awkward man who tended toward impropriety at times and was terrible at reading a room, but he had a great heart.


    Eventually, I took a hiatus from the work to focus on magic and training, but I returned to the apothecary for a few months before entering the Sanctum. Most of the potions Id made hadnt sold before I left.


    Lets see. One legendary potion, versus a few dozen run-of-the-mill potions and a lot of Iron-Lung. Yes, I think were more than even, Casikas.


    Oh good. Casikas looked almost comically relieved.


    Titus bumped my elbow. So Whats happening here?


    I held the bottle up to the light. The liquid was almost clear. It must have given Casikas hell, refining it to this level of purity. I popped the cap and prepared to drink. Providence.


    Or calamity. Ralakos had returned. Behind him, Veldani was muttering to herself.


    I know the risks, I said.


    No. I dont think you do. Ralakos stared at me evenly. May I remind you of the situation that brought you here in the first place? You underwent extensive soul damage from misusing the flame. And the history of that potion is not a cheery one. Of the eight infernals to consume a flame catalyst potion in the last two-hundred years, four died. Immolated by their own fire. And apart from one, the rest adhered to the acclimation period and refrained from using the flame for a full day. This is folly.


    I considered Ralakoss words. He was an excellent advisor at the worst of times, but he tended to lean on caution to an excessive degree. Not to mention, from the beginning, things I set out to achieve tended to take far longer than I expected. Depending on how the next few weeks played out with my father, it could be years before I made it back to the enclave.


    We dont have a choice. I insisted.


    Delay is the only option. Ralakos countered emphatically. It is important for any warrior to know when he is beaten. Those who surrender may live to fight tomorrow. There will be other opportunities.


    As much as I respected Ralakos, he only knew a fraction of the truth. Like many others, Ralakos believed I received visions at key moments, when in reality, Id lived through those moments with perfect clarity. Veldani and Morthus knew more than most. Which I suspected was why Veldani was willing to risk giving this to me at all.


    Only Maya knew everything. The person who had placed her life on the line for me, yet again.


    Dont waste this.


    Im sorry, Ralakos. This has to happen now.


    Ralakoss mouth hardened, and he snapped his fingers.


    A servant I hadnt even noticed appeared at his side. Yes, Councillor?


    Fetch a life mage, along with as many jugs of rosewater as my servants can carry. And keep the water coming.

 Chapter 142: Pyrrhic XII

    Chapter 142: Pyrrhic XII


    I knelt in the center of the room and attempted to clear my mind. My mind kept returning to the memory of Mayas parting, threatening to break my focus. I bore down on it ruthlessly until there was nothing but a blank.


    Water coming down. One of the servants warned. A second later, the frigid torrent flooded over me, soaking me in fragrant water that immediately sapped my body heat.


    Theres a strange consistency between apothecary and alchemy. The more powerful a potion is, the worse it tastes. Lillian told me, once, that this point of reference was so pervasive many folk used it to discern whether they were being ripped off or tricked.


    If someone paid a high price for a rare cure, and that cure tasted like water, they could reasonably draw the conclusion they were being ripped off.


    Alternatively, if a person took a simple stamina potion, and it tasted like swill, there was a good chance something nefarious was at play.


    Which is why, as I drank the potion down to the last drop and tasted nothing, I felt the beginnings of alarm. There was little likelihood that something was wrong with the potiondespite Veldanis complaints, Id worked with Casikas enough to know the man was exceptionally talented. Aside from the massive gulf of experience, Veldani was a dyed-in-the-wool perfectionist.


    It was far more likely that this potion, in particular, was set apart.


    I set my teeth and waited.


    Ralakos dismissed some additional infernals who had run out of things to do, and were clearly anxious, contributing to the uneasy atmosphere.


    All that remained was myself, Veldani, Vogrin, the life mage, Titus, Ralakos, and a handful of his mages and servants.


    This is some sinister shite. Titus murmured. It wasnt difficult to imagine how this looked to an outsider. I was kneeling within a complex inscription circle, meant to contain the flame. Even with that precaution taken, the servants cleared the room, pushing anything flammable to the far ends. Newly replaced torches at each corner of the room burned a blue flame, white lines trailing from their sconces, down the walls, to the inscription circle.


    It was the best Ralakos could manage on such short notice, but to an outsider, it must have looked like a prelude to a blood sacrifice.


    For all we knew, it might be.


    Any last-minute advice for me, master? I tried.


    Veldani studied the stone floors patterns, as she had for the last half hour. Her lips twitched, and she held her silence.


    I returned to meditating, eventually opening one eye as I felt Vogrins presence draw close. He looked profoundly uncomfortable. Demons werent typically allowed within the Enclave, but Ralakos made an exception given the circumstances.


    It is mildly unsettling, being conjured amongst a network of wards that could remove me from this plane at any given moment. Vogrin observed. For the record, Ill be disappointed if you die.


    Cant have that, can we?


    Ralakos placed a hand on my shoulder. Keep your intention at the forefront of your thoughts. No matter what happens. Unfortunately, we cant use a void mage to avoid the worst of it. Practitioners who attempt to void out the immolation see no benefit whatsoever. Still, Ive brought them to slow the spread. Ralakos pointed to two other mages standing in the open entryway. Theyre on circulation duty, so you wont burn through the air and asphyxiate. Kymar will heal you continuously throughout the process.


    Kymar was a stern looking blue with horns that emerged closer to the side of his head rather than the top, giving him a distinctly bull-like impression. I caught snippets of conversation as he prepared Ralakoss servants.


    Keep dousing him at a steady rate. Dont panic, if things seem out of control. As long as the flames dont cover his entire body, I can keep him alive.


    I closed my eyes. Whenever things were at their most desperate, my mind wandered to one memory in particular. A picnic with Lillian, the day she discovered she was pregnant. It was the happiest Id ever been. While I was afraid, it was clear that Lillian was more terrified than I was, and Id found it within myself to be strong for her.


    I needed that same strength now.


    But Lillian was gone. Everything else from the memory was the same. The scenic hillside, the wildlife, all the way down to the basket filled with food. Yet no matter how hard I tried, I couldnt call her to mind.


    I doubled over suddenly, palms slapping painfully against the stone. My stomach tied itself in knot after knot in a rapid onset of cramps. A warm, sickly sensation spread throughout my body.


    After what felt like a small eternity, the flames dimmed somewhat.


    Then they exploded.


    Kymar fell back, rolling desperately on the ground as violet flames consumed the fabric of his tunic. Ralakos held up a multi-stage aegis that began to crack almost immediately, pushing him back across the room.


    The pain swallowed everything. I couldnt move. Couldnt think.


    I know who you are, Son of Gil. How youll taint that venerated fire you rely on so recklessly. Ive seen it, time and time again. You will never be worthy. The voice boomed in my mind, pompous and condescending.


    I tried to speak to it by directing my thoughts, the same way Id conversed with the beast.


    When you asked who I was, I answered. Extend the same courtesy. I cannot negotiate with an unidentified voice.


    The voice giggled. It was a perverse sound, twisted. Give advance warning, so you can scramble to find a way to shield yourself from me the next cycle? You must take me as a fool.


    My flesh was raw and red. The flames licked up my face and I closed my eyes, before they could damage my vision again. I tried to take solace in the fact that I still reserved some portion of immunity. If I hadnt, I would have easily burned to death in a fraction of the time.


    Darkness closed in on me, as my nerves began to fail. I forced my eyes open just in time to see a wave of purple fire hurtling in my direction.


    All at once, it stopped. Not entirely, as there were still tufts of flame on the tatters of my clothing, but they were no larger than a candle. Kymar had recovered as well, and gawked at the side of the room.


    Veldani was on her feet, transformed from a weak old woman to warrior, wreathed in violet flame that cloaked her like an aura. She extended a hand towards me. I felt the fire flare, as it had before, only this time, it was cut short before it gained purchase.


    It shouldnt have been possible. Only the mage that created the fire was able to control it. How? I croaked.


    Veldani gave me a crooked smile. Clever as you are, there is always something more to learn.


    Of course. Demon fire mages had to have clashed in the past. It occurred to me, in the numbed recesses of my mind, that this probably wasnt something Veldani would bother teaching me, purely on the basis of demon-fire being almost nonexistent.


    Up. Our time is waning quickly.


    I staggered to my feet.


    Kymar had quickly shaken off his shock and begun to heal me once more. There was an unpleasant sensation as my annihilated nerves regenerated alongside my charred flesh, like a pervasive tingling that wouldnt stop.


    I dragged myself to the dimension gate. Large movements were excruciating, so I took small, limited steps until I reached it.


    Veldani followed. When it became clear the flames would not resurge, she finally dropped her arm, sliding down the left leg of the dimension gate with a heavy sigh.


    Titus stood next to the gate. The dwarf was far more withdrawn than before, and seemed to have an issue looking at me. All good?


    I regarded him with some amusement. I survived. But you look as if you toured the hells.


    Its nothing, lad. Titus said. Nothing at all. Then his stomach rumbled loudly. Connecting the dots, I pretended not to notice, clapping him on the shoulder as I passed.


    Maintain focus and attention, Veldani instructed. As soon as she propped herself up against the gate, the fight drained out of her. Do not rush.


    I nodded, knelt down in front of the gate and began to work.

 Chapter 143: Pyrrhic XIII

    Chapter 143: Pyrrhic XIII


    Sweat dripped down my forehead, burning as it made contact with the last vestiges of seared skin. Id told Kymar to stop, for now, and asked Ralakos to not inform me of the time until we reached the hour-before deadline.


    I needed to remove any possible distractions if I wanted to succeed.


    For the third time, I pressed my hand against the control crystal, forcing the spark through it. Veldanis voice guided me, keeping me grounded.


    Remember, this is not a race. Be calm and keep your mind steady. You cannot see the obstacles within, and you cannot afford to learn them through trial and error.


    I tried to listen. But I was growing frustrated with the cryptic nature of her advice.


    Once again, the spark winked out. If I cant brute force it or remove the panel to direct it carefully, and I cant learn through repetition, what, exactly, is left for me to do?


    Your impatience is your greatest weakness, my student. As is your proclivity for control. Reject them. It is the only way.


    I glanced over to ensure Veldani wasnt drifting off again. She was still leaning heavily against the left leg of the gate, but her eyes were sharp and attentive.


    How?


    Picture the result you desire. Then loosen your grip. Allow your subconscious to take over.


    I tried again, forcing another spark through the control crystal. Progress was far slower when I wasnt actively managing it, and it snuffed out when my focus lapsed.


    Its not working.


    Veldani was quiet. She did this often, when she gave me a difficult task. Withdrew guidance after she felt shed given me enough to muddle through on my own. It was a different tactic than any of my previous teachers had taken. At times, I appreciated the method.


    But this wasnt training. The stakes were too high. And this was a rare situation that wouldnt necessarily be fixed with a reset.


    If it set me far back enough, maybe. However, that was uncommon. The Black Beast had an unspoken tendency to place me either directly before a catalyzing event, or at a transitional point. The situation with my father had been resolved bloodlessly for the moment, an ideal outcome whenever the man was involved. The most likely place Id be sent back to would be either my return to the Sanctum after the reunion, or at some point during our efforts to repair the gate.


    I could use some of my foreknowledge to save us a marginal amount of time, but there was no silver arrow, nothing drastic I could manage to sway the tide. And if Veldani didnt come to her senses at the same time, there was a not insignificant chance the potion would kill me, forcing repeated resets to return to this point.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ralakos pull his watch from his pocket, then replace it.


    Enough.


    I took a deep breath and let my anxiety, my worries over Maya, and the hideous weight of the deadline forced on me in the back of my head, slowly fade away.


    The spark came to life, I pushed it through. Following Veldanis counsel, I willed the spark upward, keeping my direction vague and unspecific.


    The increase in power from the potion was significant enough that I had to marvel at the difference. Before, the third stage spark was fragile. Now, it took concentrated effort to stop it from expanding.


    The spark stopped, but did not extinguish. I bit down on a whoop of triumph. Its there.


    Titus pumped a fist. Well done, lad. Straight line, through about three inches of metal, and well have a primitive pathway. Just dont let it spread, and take care to keep it from flying off once youre finally through.


    While it sounded simple in theory, it required thinking about the flame in an entirely different manner and overriding years of conditioning.


    I focused on the temperature and felt it grow hotter. Still, the progress was painstakingly slow. I imagined the metal growing red, a hole forming as the tiny spark carved through.


    The world fell away, as it had so long ago in the Everwood. There was only the spark.


    And the spark carved through.


    I released the magic, before the fire could damage any of the internal components.


    Its done.


    My heart raced, as Titus reached towards the ignition switch.


    There was an audible click, and something happened.


    No.


    We were so close.


    Ralakos replaced his watch in his pocket, rubbing his forehead wearily. There was a deep sadness in his face. Theres still time. But I suspect using it here would be folly. You did your best, my friend.


    Had I? Was this really the best I could manage?


    I snorted. Im going home, next. This was the vacation.


    Ralakos laughed heartily, pulling me into a half-hug.


    Youll want to get some of the more archaic restrictions removed when you get back to Whitefall. Before your coronation, preferably. I imagine therell be no small infernal attendance. Youve earned our unwavering support. His eyes twinkled. I should commission a statue.


    Please dont. I snorted. I look terrible as a statue.


    Ralakos laughed again. When I didnt join him, he sighed. I know what its like to lose a teacher. He glanced at the pocket watch. There is something you can do for her. Something that hasnt been done in quite some time. Ralakos leaned close and whispered in my ear.


    ***


    Titus and Kymar brought Veldani out on the stretcher that was meant for me, should the worst come to pass.


    I stood at the peak of the council steps, my throat tight. Slowly, one after another, the returning infernals and the people welcoming them back fell silent.


    I breathed in deeply and spoke. I didnt intend to make a speech. It would be a crime to politicize a moment this pure. And while I contributed, I could not have done so without the help of Ralakos and countless others. It is a time for healing, and rekindled bonds. A time to rebuild.


    I choked, waiting for the surge of emotion to dissipate. Which is why, while it is difficult, I must ask for a favor.


    I extended a hand towards my teacher. Many of you knew Veldani. Her students were many. She grew tired long before the dimension gate was sundered. Still, she waited. For a bearer of the flame, to return that which was stolen. In the meantime, she cared for the Elders of the Sanctum, who were too sick to care for themselves. And though I was anything but the student she expected


    I chuckled and wiped my eyes. She taught me regardless. Exactly what I needed to help bring all of you back to your families today. And when I needed her most, she left the Sanctum to bring you home.


    A murmur of understanding rippled through the crowd.


    I wish to honor Veldani, before my role here comes to an end. Will you lend me your aid?


    For a moment, no one moved. Then four menone in traditional garb, three in the stitched together wear that marked nomadic newcomersascended the stairs, each taking one arm of the stretcher from Titus and Kymar.


    Directed by Ralakos, the crowd moved as one towards the entrance portal, Veldani held in their midst.


    ***


    The preparations came together quickly. Both the returning infernals and residents, earth mages, and water mages working in tandem to construct a pyre.


    Thousands gathered around the finished pyre as Veldani was placed atop it.


    Cremation was uncommon amongst the infernals. And more still for demon-fire to be used. According to Ralakos, it was a rare accolade even before the gate was broken, and the mages with demon-fire eradicated. An honor bestowed upon heroes.


    I called the spark and lit the torch in my hand. Ralakos caught my eye and held his watch up, its glass face glimmering in the sun.


    That was the signal. Half an hour, and my time was up. I searched through the people surrounding the pyre frantically, looking for someone I knew to bear the torch.


    Excuse me, your grace? A womans voice. I had to look down, as she only came up to my chest. Her hair was a mix of blue and gray, the beginning of crows feet around her reddened eyes. Now that she had my attention, she curtsied low, and I bowed in return.


    Yes?


    The infernal looked at the torch in my hand. Her lip trembled. But her voice was strong. May I light the fire? For my Grandmother?


    Youre Anglisse. I realized.


    Anglisses eyebrows shot up. She talked about me?


    All the time. Veldani never stopped thinking about you. I smiled sadly. Im truly sorry for your loss. I extended the butt of the torch toward her.


    And yours. Anglisse took the torch with both hands, curtsied once more, and returned to the pyre.


    My lips tightened as I spotted various familiar faces in the crowd. Ralakos was speaking with Anglisse. Guemon stood towards the back, his eyes glued to my fathers army. I spotted Agarin briefly, elevated above the crowd on Kilviuss shoulders.


    No one noticed as I secured my saddlebags and mounted a horse.


    I wished to stay for the ceremony. To be honest, I wished to stay far longer. This placeboth the Enclave, the Sanctumwas home in a way nowhere else ever had been.


    If there was a world where Thoth never existed and my father was a reasonable ruler, and no cataclysm loomed in the distant future, I might have done just that. Abdicated and carved out a peaceful life in the Enclave as an apothecary, far away from petty political backstabbing and violence.


    But, as is so often true, wistful desires do not become reality.


    My father was a tyrant. Thoth, an existential threat. Ragnark was inevitable.


    And a peaceful life was never my purpose.

 Chapter 144: Whitefall I

    Chapter 144: Whitefall I


    The camp had gone up quickly, with wood from the forest efficiently cut and processed into defensive towers and strategically placed barricades. Tents of white and blue placed in uniform rows made up temporary barracks for the soldiers, while larger variations emblazoned with the banners of an eagle, bear, wolf, and panther surrounded the Kings pavilion.Updated from


    I could feel my old fears resurface, eating at me like a rat gnawing through my guts.


    In the twenty-some years Id survived my father, there was really only one unwavering rule that withstood the test of time: expect the worst, and know he will still somehow plunge deeper. King Gil would be the pinnacle of fairness one day, an utter monster the next. And my detailed familiarity with that volatility, and the harrowing anticipation which followed, was almost as terrible as the volatility itself.


    Id bought myself the requisite time to secure the infernals. But I still had no idea at what cost. Id hit him. With all of my strength, Id struck my father with my own hand. That, along with Mayas gambit, had served to waylay his single-mindedness.


    But that was nearly a day ago.


    A day hed spent stewing over what Id done, with an instrument of reprisal readily available in the form of my most cherished companion.


    He wouldnt kill her. Maya had done well, establishing both her station and her value as a healer. Nevertheless, there were countless ways he could make her suffer.


    Two knights with open visors stood at attention as I approached. They looked less than pleased at my return, a brief look at their blackened armor was explanation enough. The men were probably among those on the front line for my gambit the day prior. One of them gave me a long-suffering look, and clanked slowly as turned and called back over the barricade.


    Make way!


    A collection of knights and servants pushed several smaller barricades aside. As I passed into the camp, a man in a tabard and rope belt approached, his sandals sinking into the mud.


    Shall I tender your horse, milord? The mundanity of the exchange was overshadowed by the way the man shivered, despite the early leafwake warmth. When I kicked a leg over and dismounted my horse, he visibly jumped. For a moment, I thought he might sprint away.


    Whats your name, servant? I asked, hoping to confirm Mayas whereabouts.


    No one of import, milord. No one at all. He took the reins with a practiced hand and immediately retreated.


    The hells? I muttered under my breath.


    My attention was drawn away from the man as a nasally monotone sounded from my left. And so the prince returns. Resurrected anew.


    I grimaced. Is that a snake I hear, slithering through the grass?


    I should have known to treat any information as suspect from the moment my whisperers within the enclave began to vanisht. Thaddeuss hairless scalp gleamed with dew-like perspiration as he sidled up next to me. Arms clasped behind his back, he studied the camp before us. The misdirection with the letters was sloppy. But the suppression of information and deception was leagues above what Ive come to expect from the Enclave. He gave me a sidelong glance. Whoever coordinated your smokescreen has exceptional talent.


    Or youve lost your edge.


    Unlikely, your grace.


    In truth, I had no idea what he was talking about. Ralakos or Persephone were the most likely possibilities. Given the additional detail of vanishing contacts, however, it was probably the latter. Id never known Persephone to play nice, regardless of the setting.


    Wheres Maya? I asked coldly.


    In a moment. Thaddeus placed a hand on my arm, considering me thoughtfully. I understand you may harbor some residual distaste towards me.


    You have no idea.


    Thanks in no small part to the King and Queens tendency to squander my talents on monitoring your activities. An irritant for us both, let me assure you. I would like for us to start anew. Thaddeus continued. You have proved yourself in more ways than one.


    I looked at his hand on my arm until he removed it. Minutes after my return, and youre already currying for favor.


    I am merely a man who can see which way the wind is blowing.


    Another servant struggled through the mud, a woman carrying firewood. I called out to her, Wheres the infernal


    I watched, aghast, as the woman dropped the firewood, turned tail and ran. What has my father been telling everyone? Why are they all scared of me?


    Thaddeus chortled. Nothing, save that the crown prince died at the hands of the infernals. Shortly after, that same prince who is now very much alivemarched up to the battle-lines and started throwing up columns of violet fire, capping it all off by punching the king in the face and living to tell the tale. Why do you think theyre afraid?


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. They think Im some sort of avenging spirit who fought my way back through the hells, imbued with demonic power.


    Arent you? Thaddeus peered at me.


    In a way.


    I heard that you fought a revenant in the Everwood, and won. Thaddeus pried, his amusement fading somewhat. Quite an accomplishment for a distinguished soldier, let alone a boy of ten at the time.


    Ah. There it was. He was probing me, trying to find out how much I knew.


    I gave Thaddeus a sadistic smile. Oh, Barion? A twisted monster to be certainwhat with all the kidnapping and child experimentationbut he loved the sound of his own voice.


    You talked to this creature? The beads of sweat crowning Thaddeuss head grew in number.


    At length. I said blandly. Before I knew his true nature. He had much to say on his purpose, the intent of his research I locked eyes with Thaddeus. and the organization that spurned him.


    I see. For possibly the first time ever, Thaddeus looked genuinely blindsided.


    I snapped my fingers. What was their name again? Crustaceanno. Chrysalis? Thats not it. It was insect related, Im sure.


    We should speak more on this at a later time. Thaddeus said quickly.


    Im counting on it, old friend.


    Thaddeus watched me carefully, before finally breaking his gaze. The infernal is in the Kings pavilion.


    A cold chill went down my spine. To what purpose?


    Loud since the day he was born. My father growled.


    Im loudYoure hungover. Youre both hungover. I realized.


    What else was there to do besides bet and drink while you were pussyfooting around? King Gil rolled his eyes.


    You did teach me how to convincingly scream in pain. Maya said plainly. That killed some time.


    I nearly choked.


    Mmm. All in the diaphragm. My father said gruffly.


    What


    He waved me off, putting a hand against his temple. Sit down before you fall down, boy. When he peered out and saw I hadnt moved, he sighed. These gossipy bastards were either going to assume I was beating her or fucking her. And it wouldnt do to let them think I was fucking her.


    Indeed. Youre a married man, after all, your grace. Maya sipped her tea.


    King Gil snorted. I prefer my women hornless.


    Youre unharmed? I asked Maya.


    Entirely. The king has proved a magnificent host. She peered at me. Were you successful in your mission, Prince Cairn?


    Yes. I said quietly, barely even surprised, as Maya held out a hand and King Gil tossed her a copper rod. You were betting on me.


    King Gil shifted in his seat. I expected youd run out of time, come back here with your tail between your legs, and wait for me to summon you. The infernal contested that.


    Dont forget the tea. Maya pointed out.


    Pressing your luck, girl. My father growled. How was I to know hed become a damned apothecary overnight.


    I did tell you, your grace.


    After six bottles of wine, you told me.


    There was a rush of warm air as the tent flap behind me opened. Is everything


    A single blink was all it took for my father to cross the room. An honor guard in dark armor collapsed on the floor, clinging to his throat and gagging as blood ran freely between his fingers. King Gil crouched over him and slowly wiped a dagger long enough to be a short-sword on the fabric beneath the guards armor. I made it abundantly clear, he growled. That I was not to be disturbed. For any reason.


    Numbly, I stepped aside as the blood soiled the carpet Id been standing next to. This was the father I knew. A tempest in human form. Only distinctly faster than I remembered. Hed always been powerful, immensely strong. But this speed was alien to me.


    Understanding dawned.


    In my past life, King Gil grew increasingly bitter and angry as the kingdom thrived over an age of peace. He stopped practicing in the training yard. Relied on others to handle the sparse fighting for him.


    For all his posturing, hed taken me seriously. This was what my father looked like, preparing for a distant conflict on the horizon. Instead of falling into complacency, hed honed himself into a living weapon.


    This was my doing.


    Maya retained her calm. But she was sitting up, her back ramrod straight. Shall I heal him?


    King Gil glanced down at the dying guard, still choking on his own blood. Mercy dulls the message. He clucked his tongue. Then stuck his head outside the tent and roared. Pack it up, were due for Whitefall!


    There was a raucous cheer as the camp immediately buzzed to life, awash in the sound of a thousand hurried footsteps.


    King Gil pointed to Maya. Emissary. Youll be placed amongst the noble women and children.


    Mayas eyebrows furrowed. As you please, but Im uncertain if theyll be amenable to my presence. My kind has something of an infamy in association with children


    He reached in his satchel and, instead of a copper rod, withdrew a golden pin, emblazoned with the likeness of the frigid mountain range that surrounded my home. I sucked in a breath. The crest indicated Skathis Favor. It was frequently bestowed on human diplomats, but as far as I knew, a non-human had never received it. That will grease the wheels. My people learn slowly. But they will learn.


    Maya fixed the pin to her dress and curtsied deeply.


    As she straightened, regal and calm, I felt the significance of the distance between us. Maya had transformed in my absence. And Id missed it.


    Boy. My father waved for me to follow as he exited the tent. With me. I gave Maya a small wave and felt the pain in my chest lessen as she returned it. Then followed behind King Gil as he weaved through the frenzied camp, ducking beneath a deconstructed log before the elves carrying it could register his presence.


    Elves?


    I glanced around. Now that I wasnt in such a rush, a peculiarity stuck out to me. The majority of the camp was human, but there were a small number of dwarves, elves, and even infernals on the fringes packing up the camp. None in the army or the guard, but still. Not a single non-human in chains.


    Are you a sheep? King Gil asked suddenly. It took a moment to register that he was talking to me.


    No. I answered evenly.


    Then stop grazing at my heels and walk beside me. King Gil commanded.


    I nearly tripped. It was all but written law that any nobles or members of the royal family followed in the kings wake, reinforcing his place as figurehead.


    I couldnt shake the feeling that I was walking into a trap, but I took my place beside him, feeling his eyes on me.


    Much has changed, in your absence. My father said.


    Its certainly not the same world I left. I murmured agreement, my mind struggling to keep up.


    Suddenly, he slapped me on the back and grinned wickedly. Lets talk about this war of yours.

 Chapter 145: Whitefall II

    Chapter 145: Whitefall II


    My father listened unflinchingly throughout my retelling of the events since my first death. His cold blue eyes pierced me, evaluating every word and gesture.


    The two of us sat in his carriage, undisturbed as a mute scribe recorded our every word.


    Despite the severity of the matter at hand, I couldnt shake the idea that this was all some sort of elaborate ruse. A cruel joke that could end the moment he decided the novelty of taking me seriously had faded. Only, despite my trepidation, it had been hours. He asked me questions and clarifications that indicated he was not only paying attention to my words, but contrasted them with versions of events he must have gleaned from Mayas account.


    I tried to suppress the voice deep within me. The one that whispered that this was the best outcome I could have hoped for. Recent events had taught me that the voice of optimism almost always predicated sorrow.


    After I had finished my recounting, hed roughly accosted the scribes notes, and began reading them. Eventually, somewhere around three quarters of the way through, he pointed to a single line.


    You handled the proceedings in the Sepulcher exceptionally well.


    Where? I asked, totally unsure of how to handle the praise.


    Here. You cut a deal with the arch-mage, and when your demonic allies undercut your efforts, immediately improvised and salvaged a no-win situation. Follow current novels at novelhall.come washed over me as I remembered Thoths expression of surprise and pain as I attacked her relentlessly, shortly after the brokered deal fell through. Im not following. It was a disaster. I failed to stay her hand, and ultimately, failed to kill her when I had an opportunity to strike.


    King Gil looked up from the notes with a scoff of derision, and I braced myself for the turn. Please. You gained something much more valuable than a parlay. Up to this point, the arch-mage was entirely in control. This was reflected in her attitude, her manner. She was sure of herself. You capitalized on her weakness and cut her open. He grinned. Her confidence was shattered. She feared you, boy. For the first time, she lost control. And in her fear, she acted rashly and gave you the opening you needed to survive.


    My head spun. Thats one way to look at it, I suppose.


    Regardless of strength, no one survives something so harrowing without the scars to show for it. Marks on the body and mind. Father leaned back against the plush carriage seat and spread out, as if hed just gorged himself on a feast and was fully sated. Im proud of you, son.


    I swallowed.


    He studied me carefully before continuing. Im considering putting pressure on the Order of the Crimson Brand to exchange talented disciples with the infernals. In your experience, would they be amenable?


    It took considerable effort to bite back the immediate yes. The Crimson Brand was the primary order of human mages with close ties to the monarchy, though they maintained their independence in name only. It would be a first step to sharing magical knowledge, eventually making the mages on both sides far stronger. This was likely what my father intended eventually. But if it was something he wanted, it represented leverage.


    Its within the realm of possibility. I said carefully. Though I suspect our reliance on demi-human slavery may give them pause.


    King Gil laughed. The scribe looked up at him, then at me, lips pursed in a puzzled expression.


    Even if infernals constitute a small percentage of slaves in the human territories, it will present an obstacle. I argued.


    My father made a dismissive gesture. You misunderstand. I am not making light of your idea. Only that we came to the same conclusion independently.


    That couldnt be right. He had to be screwing with me. Then, you intend to abolish the slave-trade?


    Intend? King Gil snorted. Boy, I abolished slavery a year after you went into hiding.


    The ramifications of that were staggering. But wouldnt enacting such a change so quickly lead to civil war?


    It did. A rather unexciting one, to be frank. King Gil mused, The holdouts eventually fell in line. As it happens, watching the most outspoken leaders of your faction paraded around in collars and stomped to death in the street by the previous bearers of said collars does wonders for ones social sensibilities. Why do you look disappointed?


    They died out?


    They were hunted. Erebus grimaced in distaste. Though not without reason. With a steady hand, they were excellent companions. When we brought them to the mainland, however, some escaped out into the wild, and their tenuous domestication became a distant memory. Within a few generations, they were routinely terrorizing travelers and villages alike, frequently with harrowingly bloody results. They took to the Everwood, where they were eventually hunted to extinction. Or so we thought. The Everwood has been especially fearsome as of late. And for the first time in decades, there have been sightings of a full-grown abyssal panther, golden eyes gleaming in the dark.


    Hence, the reason for your search.


    Erebus nodded. Its most likely a misidentification. A shadow panther, or direwolf. Still, if theres even a small chance an abyssal panther survived the purge, I would like to see it for myself.


    How would one differentiate an abyssal panther from a shadow panther?


    Hm. He took me in, paying full attention for the first time. Your interest is genuine. Thats surprising, your grace. Your father would not give me the time of day when I requested leave to head an expedition into the Everwood.


    I snorted. Im guessing he stopped caring after he realized you werent proposing a hunt.


    Erebus choked, then guffawed. Such irreverence. Refreshing, amongst the lapping of sycophants. The two species are similar in body, but identifying abyss panther from its diminutive cousin is a simple matter. A shadow panther bears eyes of silver and generally keeps to the trees, dropping onto its prey once they draw close. An abyssal panther, being significantly more ferocious, rarely leaves the ground. And its eyes gleam like purest gold.


    Several realizations began to slide into place in my mind, one after another. I swallowed. What of their intelligence, Lord Erebus?


    He was watching me carefully now. Have you encountered such a beast, my prince? Perhaps when you disappeared into the Everwood?


    Perhaps.


    Many were said to understand the spoken tongue, though that is likely more legend than fact. Im curious to hear the details of how you survived your encounter.


    Not wanting to string the man along, I recited the original details of that encounter. How the abyssal panther had attacked me in the Everwood just after I escaped from Thoth, and the following encounter, when it brought a hare to me at the fire.


    Erebus leaned forward, to the point I could smell the vurseng on his breath. And your response?


    I had no idea what I was doing, save for the fact that it seemed intelligent. I ran a hand through my hair. So I treated it the same way Id treat any traveler looking to share a fire with strangers on the road. Cooked the meat, and offered the panther a fair portion.


    Did anything about its behavior stand out? Erebus asked quickly.


    I was silent for a moment as I recalled the encounter. It refused to touch its portion until I ate mine.


    Erebus sucked in a breath and said nothing more. When it was clear he wasnt going to explain why, I continued. It stayed with us for some time after that, and given that I was headed into potentially hostile territory, I released it into the Everwood. And I promised that, if it was alive and found me when I came back through, Id give it a name. I think there might be truth to the myth, that the creatures can understand human speech.


    Damn. Lord Erebus gazed out into the Everwood, searching between the endless thick tree trunks and overgrown foliage in the dark. That makes this turn of events all the more unfortunate.


    You really think it remembers after so long? It was hard to fathom. I hadnt forgotten the panther. But it had been unreasonable to think it remembered me, especially after such a long length of time.


    Im quite certain. Lord Erebus scrunched his face up in frustration. They are dangerous predators, but loyal. The interaction you described is not unlike how the creatures chose a human partner amongst my ancestors as a hunting companion on the Isles. Such a commitment was lifelong. How you managed to navigate that process by chance is beyond me.


    Chance is often superseded by fate, Ive found. I answered absentmindedly.


    Lord Erebus chuckled. Wise words. Im half-inclined to advise you to walk past the forests edge and begin yelling in hopes it would recognize your voice, though that would be an exercise in futility. The wood is thick, and voices seldom carry.


    I thought back to the way, mind catching over how Barion had tracked my use of the demon-flame. I might have a better idea.

 Chapter 146: Whitefall III

    Chapter 146: Whitefall III


    I studied the canopy of dark green leaves for some time before I found what I was looking for. An old tree, full of gnarled branches and bark that felt brittle to the touch. More importantly, it stood taller than any that surrounded it.


    Lord Erebus trailed behind me, doubt clouding his features. The Everwood spans a great distance, your grace. It seems incredibly unlikely that the panther has stayed close by. Even if it ventured a minimal distance, the canopy is thick.


    I ignored the warning. One must venture to gain, Lord Erebus. And Im not in the practice of breaking my promises. The least I can do is try.


    Lord Erebus fell silent.


    I released three sparks onto the tall trees trunk. They caught fire immediately, but I clamped down with my magic and kept them small, rotating the sparks in opposite circles, blackening the trunk just above the roots, so it wouldnt spread down onto the grass and require constant management. Then, I allowed the flames to creep up the full length of the tree and spread, creating a tower of flame that cast the camp in an eerie light.


    Lord Erebus looked behind us with a bland expression. We have an audience, your grace.


    Most of the camp had been pointedly ignoring me. Now a few people had wandered over. There were a handful of mages that were staring at the fire curiously, but mostly, I saw fear in their expressions.


    I raised my voice. This flame keeps the beasts of the forest at bay. It will not spread, nor will it harm you.


    No one moved.


    Shrugging, I turned my back to them and sat cross-legged next to the burning tree. Lord Erebus sat beside me. Despite his elaborate attire, he didnt call for his servants to place down blankets or cushions for him. Every so often, an adjacent leaf or branch from another tree would catch fire, and I had to call on my mana to snuff it out.


    In the interim, Vogrin returned to his place in the amulet.


    Anything from Thaddeus? I asked.


    The man is absurdly careful. Vogrin sounded exhausted. When he returned to the tent, he began to write one of several letters. Long letters. All of them were encrypted, and he had a magical paperweight that checked for augury and scanned for extra-planar presences.


    Were you detected?


    Ive been doing this for centuries before you were born. Of course I wasnt detected. Vogrin snapped. I also memorized the letters. While I recognize the framework of the encryption, it will require some time to generate the keyword necessary to decrypt the missives.


    Part of me chafed at the idea of having to wait, but Vogrin had done an excellent job.


    Hopefully, well have an idea of what he intends before he passes them off.


    The encampment is not so large that he would be able to send a messenger unnoticed. He will likely bide his time until we return to the city proper. Now, as Im completely drained, Im going to rest.


    Well done, Vogrin.


    A few people had joined us by the firelight while I was talking to Vogrin. They still frequently looked over at the tree nervously from time to time, but seemed to have accepted my previous explanation.


    Lord Erebus was staring through his spyglass into the dark, though I had to imagine between the darkness of the forest and the violet blaze of the tree, he probably couldnt see much.


    I voiced a random thought. What should I name him?


    The spyglass tumbled out of Erebus hands. He stared at me, aghast. Five years, and you havent given it any thought?


    I shifted uncomfortably. Ive been a little busy. And in my defense, I didnt realize how significant it was. But if its one of the last, it seems as if the name should mean something.


    Well, Erebus leaned back on his arms. There are a few that crop up in legend. Pearltooth notoriously never found a human hunter he considered worthy, though countless tried. Bazal, who felled many invaders, when the orc ships landed on our shores. And of course, our figurehead, the king of the panthers.


    King?


    A majestic creature. One capable of bringing others of his kind to heel with nothing more than a glare and snarlwhy are you looking at me like that?


    My boyish grin grew wider. Tell me the name.


    Erebus expression grew tired. Do you have any idea how many animals in my house share the same damn monikerI was a fool to mention it.


    Come now I fell silent. Not at any particular sound, but the utter lack of it. The Everwood, normally rife with hooting owls and the shuffling of small things darting through bushes was completely silent.


    Behind the veil of violet flame, a paw stepped out of the darkness. And another. Two golden eyes stared out at me as the panther stepped out into the clearing.


    It was larger than I remembered. Smaller than a horse, but only just. There were a series of scars across its forehead that must have come from something vaguely reptilian. Its head came up to my chest.


    Gods. Lord Erebus whispered.


    I walked towards it, my feet rustling through the dew speckled grass. It took a step backward, sniffing the air tentatively.


    Thats right. I had changed a lot since my first passage through the Everwood..


    You followed my instructions. I said, careful not to make any sudden movements.


    The panther growled, then looked away.


    I stifled a chuckle. Sorry it took so long. I dont think either of us knew what we were signing up for.


    It gave me a long-suffering look and huffed.


    Still, you kept your side of the bargain. Time to keep mine. I glanced back at Erebus. The panther King. What was his name?


    Kerai. Lord Erebus answered, this time without argument. He was still staring wide-eyed at the new arrival.


    Kerai. I rolled the word around as I spoke it, getting a feel for it and observing the panthers posture for a reaction. Does this name please you?


    Kerai roared.


    I quenched the fire.


    Failing to cap my growing ire, I rounded on Maya. I know exactly what she wanted. Hard to miss, given the hundreds of noble women who have thrown themselves at me with the same doe-eyed expression.


    Mayas expression hardened. So you were fully aware, and ignoring my efforts was an informed decision.


    Putting aside the revenant in the room because clearly, neither of us are ready to talk about it, you literally just threw the first noble lady who would talk to you in my general direction. I said incredulously. This was not how I imagined my first one-on-one conversation with Maya going. Not even close.


    Maya leaned in, furious. You think I sat in her carriage accidentally? That she chose to share a fire with me by happenstance? No matter how deeply you look down your nose at their occupation, House Vasemoux was towards the top of a very short list. Theyre a cornerstone in the Uskarrian economy. Theyre progressive compared to the rest of the nobles, most of whom are still reeling at the idea of empty slave collars. And their only viable suitress is a kind soul.


    Marrying a human would be pointless. I hissed, looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. It took five years to lock down an alliance with your people. Marrying, or even entertaining an engagement, spends political capital I may need later to solidify an alliance if theres no other course.


    Mayas eyes narrowed. You dont have to marry Lady Melody. Just be friendly, string her along, exploit her connections and house, then discard her when she no longer of use. Or after you find a way to weaponize her grief.


    The words cut deeper than any sword. I took a half-step back. Is thatis that what you think of me?


    A painful silence followed. Maya looked away first, and I followed her lead. Yet another raccoon was waddling into the camp. This one awkwardly clambered up onto the wagon that housed the armory and wandered in, searching for food.


    Why do I get the sense this political marriage will end up being with an elf? Maya gave me a sidelong glance.


    I snorted. Because youve grown profoundly cynical in my absence.


    Maya made a nondescript grunt.


    I crossed my arms and sighed. In truth, I care little. Elf, dwarf, hell, even a pixie if the situation calls for it.


    Any port in a storm? Maya chuckled. Though I hesitate to imagine the mechanics of how that would work with a pixie.


    Any alliance that places us in the best possible position against the adversary. Preferably a queen who has little interest in me other than that of a political nature. I hesitated, before deciding to voice the rest. So I can have a life with the person I love. Assuming she even wants that, anymore.


    Oh. Maya studied the ground. Her tail twitched from side to side, eventually wrapping around her wrist. You may want to reconsider.


    I felt myself deflate. Is that so.


    Im not Maya checked behind her, and lowered her voice. Im not sure the King fully understands the political ramifications of what hes done. He is accustomed to taking decisive, often extreme action, and having others fall in line purely from fear of reprisal. Its effective, only because the ultimate outcome tends to shower the nobility with greater rewards than theyd attain in the off-chance theyd successfully rebelled.


    But now hes hit them in their coffers, with little reward to speak of. I mused. Shed reached the same concern I had.


    Maya leaned in and whispered in my ear. From my short time among their wives, I can say with certainty that the nobility is angry, Cairn. Dangerously so. Theres open talk of sedition. As cavalier as your father appears, Whitefall is on the brink of civil war.


    My chest ached and it was obvious why. Despite the grimness of the topic, Id missed this. Maya always managed to provide a fresh perspective, and had the uncanny ability to point out blindspots that Id either been too harried to see, or completely missed. On some level, Id thought shed turned to the diplomatic core as an avenue of running away, building distance from the sadistic version of herself that wielded the demon-flame to obliterate my home and family in her first life. Maybe it was, but it was clear that she held great promise as a politician.


    I bowed to her. My apologies. I was overly hasty in my response. What would you advise?


    Assuming you cant find another path towards resolving the tensions? Reconsider marrying a human noble. Maya said easily, with a practiced tone that conveyed shed thought on this for some time. A marriage to a powerful house would solidify your hold, and reassure the human public that while things are changing, there is still some semblance of the normalcy theyre accustomed to.


    I winced. That doesnt feel right. Bending to the peoples whims and relinquishing a valuable asset, simply because theyre too backwards to know better.


    Refusal to compromise is what led to this state of affairs. Maya shrugged. And no, its not right. Its politics.


    Would you


    Have dinner with me. Tell me about your experiences in the Enclave after I disappeared. Let me show you around the secret places of my home, the small gems that glitter in a wasteland of snow?


    Would you advise me again on this matter? When we have more time. I finished, leaving everything else unspoken.


    Of course. Maya said. If you agree to make amends for the insult you dealt to Lady Melody. Even if you hold no interest in her as a suitress, Ive already detailed her houses potential value.


    I rolled my eyes. Ill make nice. Right now, even. Whered she go?


    Maya pointed. Third wagon on the left, where I suspect shes balling into a silken pillow, cursing the name of the infernal who tricked her into making a fool of herself. Your grace.


    I started making my way passed the mobile armory, looking at up at the sky as I went.


    Will the blasted sun ever rise?


    Thaddeus nearly tackled me. Perspiration dripped from his forehead as he clung to my arm. Pardon my intrusion, prince. But your father is missing.


    What? I asked. I must have raised my voice because Maya turned around and began to walk towards us. On the mountain across the valley, the wolves began a chorus of howls. From the sound of it, there were more of them. I grabbed Thaddeus by the damp fabric that clung to his neck. What happened?


    The rangers scouting behind us disappeared nearly a day ago, shortly after we departed the enclave. Several among the guards have also gone missing, before and after that.


    And youre just telling me this, now? It was all I could do not to shake him until his teeth rattled.


    Thaddeus looked more unsettled than Id ever seen him. I informed the King before you arrived in camp. Desertion on the road is common. Disgruntled soldiers often use mobilization as an opportunity to part ways. But never the rangers. When the rangers vanished, I went straight to him. He


    Spit it out. I hissed.


    He swore me to secrecy. And now hes left camp without an escort.


    Of course he did, dammit. How long I trailed off, eyes trailing to the mountain overlooking the valley. Among dozens of wolves, a lone figure stood. He was bare-chested and thin, almost emaciated, wearing what appeared to be an animal pelt on his head. Both his long arms stretched skyward, a crooked staff held between them.


    Utterly motionless.


    Around us, the sky darkened. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I spoke quietly, tamping down on my fear. Theres no cover. Rouse the soldiers. We need to use the carriages as barricades Halfway through my sentence, the mobile armory exploded.


    The first detonation knocked us flat. I barely managed to raise an aegis before several detonations cracked in a deafening cacophony, barraging the shield with wood and metal shrapnel.


    A chorus of screams cut through the ringing in my ears.

 Chapter 147: Whitefall IV

    Chapter 147: Whitefall IV


    Maya? I shouted.


    Here! A voice called back. A few yards away from me, Maya pushed herself to her feet. She looked similar to how I felt, with her expression dazed, her dress torn and smeared with dirt.


    The aegis faded. After a brief look to make sure there was no immediate threat, I forced myself to disassociate from the chaos. Catalogue the damage.


    A piece of metal shrapnel, about a fingers-width long, had found its way through a gap in the xescalt armor and embedded itself in my thigh. While the pain was manageable, the location was problematic. It was impossible to tell through the fabric whether it hit anything vital.


    I checked to ensure it was firmly lodged, and upon confirming that it was, left it in.


    Aside from a few scratches on my face, I was unscathed. My breastplate, on the other hand, was dented around my chest as a result from a massive shard of metal lying nearby in the grass. If it wasnt for the armor, it would have pierced my heart. And Id be dead already.


    Only then did I allow myself to take it all in. The attackers had detonated the mobile armory, effectively turning it into an improvised bomb.


    The resulting damage was catastrophic.


    A multitude of bloodied bodies littered the grass, human, and horses alike. Many died from the initial impact. Others were alive and screaming, fountains of blood running freely from jagged wounds that did little to differentiate noble from soldier. There was smoke everywhere, making it impossible to get any sort of handle on the battlefield.


    I tensed as a large man in plated armor walked through the smoke, seemingly unharmed, until he fell to his knees and toppled, blood running freely from the hole where his arm had been cut clean off.


    Whos attacking us? Thaddeus?


    I blinked. The man was gone. Id protected him with the aegis and now he was nowhere to be seen.


    Something was wrong. In any other situation, the military should have closed ranks around the nobility. The few I did see were scattered on the ground, next to their late charges.


    Where were all the soldiers?


    Blade. Maya commanded.


    I tossed her my knife, still looking for any trace of an enemy. Maya withdrew the dark blade from the sheath and slashed savagely through the leg of her restrictive dress. I walked backward, covering her with my body. There was too much smoke. It pressed in on us, thick and claustrophobic. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Somethings wrong.


    You think?! Shit.


    What?


    Maya didnt answer. Instead, she broke from me and dashed across the clearing. I kept pace, scanning the smoke for shadows and silhouettes, finding none.


    When I reached her, Maya was kneeling over a woman with dozens of pieces of metal that had shredded through her face, marring her almost beyond recognition. Mayas hands glowed green, cupping the womans face.


    Lady Melody


    Shes gone. We need to move.


    The wounds are localized to one area. I can stop the bleeding and stabilize her. Mayas face was a mask of focus.


    Maya!


    Deny me of this and deny yourself an ally! Maya bellowed. She lowered her voice, but still stared defiantly up at me. Think. Do you hear the sounds of battle beneath their cries of pain?


    I strained my ears. There was a great deal of movement and another explosion, but no clashing of steel. No.


    Drephin? I asked.


    Abominations. Maya shuddered. Celestial elves, transformed by the cruel machinations of the old gods.


    They all look like her? Light reddish skin? Black veins?


    No ones ever seen one. Theyre supposed to be extinct. Maya whispered. I held my hand out to her, and she took it, as we continued through the smoke. But that fits the description from the legends.


    That wasnt the answer I wanted to hear. In my countless hours of research, delving into the history of the other races, the Drephin had never warranted so much as a mention.


    But Id seen them before.


    They were there that night. At the coronation. I whispered grimly.


    Maya squeezed my arm. Are you certain?


    Without a doubt.


    Then we are in far greater peril than we realized. The ramifications alone


    Lets, just, stay focused on the present.


    Maya nodded, still deep in thought


    Up ahead, the sounds of armored bodies and screams had intensified, accompanied by the clashing impacts of swords and battle cries. I cocked my head. The sounds seemed centered on two separate locations. Straight ahead, and far to the right.


    The humans are split. I said grimly, knowing all too well what that meant in a situation like this. The fighting was not in our favor.


    Finally, the smoke cleared.


    The feeling of wrongness grew stronger as I took in the two distinct groups. One was almost entirely rank-and-file. The bulk of my fathers forces, locked in battle with the drephin. A bloody clash, but theyd kept their wits about them and maintained formation.


    Nearly a hundred feet away, there was a much smaller group struggling to maintain a single defensive line against the onslaught of scarlet elves, let alone a full formation, their focus hopelessly split between protecting a multitude of nobles and defending themselves. My fathers bannerlords were among them, somehow missing the bulk of the men from their houses.


    They were attempting to force their way towards the first group, but making little headway.


    The first group made no such effort.


    And while there were drephin dividing the two, there wasnt nearly enough to prevent merging from being the most tactically sound decision.


    Its not a rout. Thats just how its supposed to look..


    Even the mages on the backline of the first group were focusing their efforts entirely on the enemy in front of them, despite their considerable range. It was possible they were drained of mana, but this close to the beginning of the battle?


    No. This was something else.


    What do we do? Maya asked.


    Vogrin, you awake? I called him.


    No answer. My demonic servants increased downtime on the surface was going to take some serious getting used to.


    Cairn? Maya asked again. Shed taken the moment of respite to summon Kastramoth, a macabre, moose-like demon with transparent skin who towered over us.


    Youre going to have to trust me, I said.

 Chapter 148: Whitefall V

    Chapter 148: Whitefall V


    I ignited my sword. Violet flame radiated, and the center grew red. Bolster the first group with the rank-and-file.


    Maya stared at me, dumbfounded. Help the well-organized contingent of men that isnt struggling, while you get yourself killed aiding the second group? I dont need your protec


    Its not like that. I shook my head. Whatever our issues, for the moment, we needed to bury them. You have the harder job by far. I thought it was odd from the beginning that only half of my fathers bannerlords are here. Combined with what you said about the talk of sedition? This wasnt an accident. They have orders to leave the nobility out to dry, Id put money on it.


    The King knew this was going to happen? Maya gave me a look of disbelief.


    If Im right, this was the plan for the assault on the enclave. To thin the herd. Theyre just acting on old orders. I looked at Maya, all too aware of the difficulty of what I was asking. I need you to find a way to push them toward the center and force a merge.


    Mayas brows knitted together. Thats a tall order.


    I know.


    Can you give me cover?


    Between us and the men?


    On the men themselves.


    I nodded. Slowly, I drew in as much mana as I could, weaving the pattern for air in every thread. The threads grew taut within me and frayed. Still, I wound the mana tighter and added more. And more. And more.


    At my limit, I turned towards the smoke and raised an arm, releasing the pressure. A cyclone shot from my hand, becoming visible and gray as it took in the smoke. Before it dissipated, I guided it towards the first group.


    Maya chased behind it, Kastramoth running alongside her.


    When I finally released the spell, the column of smoke dissipated into a cloud, drifting over the men like morning fog. Maya disappeared within it, the xescalt staff in her hand glimmering before it vanished into the dark.


    I considered the group with my fathers bannerlords. They were falling back towards the edge of the Everwood. Several nobles had already turned tail and fled into the forest. And as my father himself was fond of saying, only a fool fought elves in the forest.


    Circling to join them from the rear would take too long. At this rate, what little defense they had could crumble in minutes.


    I needed to go through.


    I poured mana into the inscriptions on my legs, granting myself as much speed as possible, then charged directly at the center of the enemy forces, a wave of violet fire in my wake.


    Sweat poured down my face as the enemys back grew ever closer. There were thousands of them.


    Heart, throat, chest.


    Itd been a long time since Id fought anything resembling a human. There were too many creatures in the sanctum to know every monsters weak point by memory. Some even had contingency organs that would function should the primary organs fail.


    Heart, throat, chest.


    Maybe it was natural that the artful dance Cephur taught me years ago had fallen by the wayside, in lieu of brute force. The sword was a brush. But it was also a bludgeon. Sometimes technique didnt cut it, and the only way over a wall was smashing straight through.


    Heart, throat, chest.


    One of the drephinic elves, a male around my age, turned, probably sensing the sudden shift in temperature. He opened his mouth to shout a warning.


    I slipped my sword beneath his sternum. It easily pierced his torso, the blade exiting his back. He coughed blood onto my shoulder.


    With a burst of mana, I let the flames overtake him and planted a foot against his chest, sending him careening into the mass, creating an anchor point of violet flame to draw from as it hopped from person to person.


    Then the wave of fire hit, setting the entire cluster of drephin ablaze.


    Im not sure what exactly I expected. From the way Maya described them, Id opted for caution. Unleashing everything I had. But now, as I struggled for air amid the inferno, my mana spent, a queer sickness came over me.


    The elves burned the same as anyone else.


    A blackened and charred figure, barely on his feet, staggered towards me, sword upraised. I knocked it aside, and he continued to stagger forward, ruined fingers clinging to my plate.


    Help me


    I drove my sword into his heart, a quick death the only mercy I could grant. Violet embers filled the air.


    The panic on the back line faded quickly. Id felled dozens with the opening move, perhaps a hundred. But as the flames spread, the elves further up shifted. Their skin bubbled, bones deforming as the burning pelts on their backs fused with their skinnot a result of the fire, but of something else. As their features became more feral and canine, the fire died.


    Maya rode Kastramoth out of the smoke at their rear.


    Even in the pain, I had to smile. Shed used the gruesome appearance of her demon to herd them. Thousands of armored, disciplined soldiers, reduced to cattle.


    The man above me scowled and pointed his staff in Mayas direction.


    There was a flash of steel, and the elfs head plummeted to the ground. Erebus vaulted over the decapitated elf, knocking his body aside, dispatching the onlookers before they could stir from their trance-like state. Kerai stood over me and roared protectively.


    Pardon the intrusionElphion Erebus trailed off, eyes widening at my wounds.


    Just shortly behind him, a thick man with a bushy red beard wielding a broadsided axe covered his left. Another of my fathers bannerlords. Watch your back, idiot. He yelled to Erebus. With a loud grunt, he cleaved through two elves in a single blow, then glanced at me. The prince?


    Erebus shook his head.


    Raugor tore an elfs throat out and grinned at me. What a show. Youll be eating well in Valhalla tonight, boy.


    To distract myself from the pain, I tried to recall Raugors house. Even his first name. But my mind was too foggy.


    Suddenly, Maya was there. She knelt beside me, her face a mask of anger and grief. I failed you. Again. Her hands glowed green.


    Dont!


    Maya recoiled. I repeated it, softening my voice. The darkness spreads. Stay clear. Understanding dawned in her expression, and she pressed her hands to my chest and the left side of my stomach, well out of reach of the encroaching black.


    Panic filtered in. I cantI cant heal this. Theres too much damage and the spellwhatever it is, it lingers. The best I can do is help with the pain.


    Its alright. The fire in my nerves was likely the only thing keeping me awake. Around us, the sheer brutality of the carnage was horrible. Mangled bodies were scattered everywhere. The number of charred elves was too many to count.


    I looked away. The cost was too high. We need to find a better way.


    Very well, Maya said. She seemed to center herself, ruthlessly reining in her emotion. The grief in her expression faded into cold stoicism. Their magic seems similar to their sister races. Mystical. And theyre not weaving as far as I can tell. Fewer casters than us, more potency.


    Would you be able to heal this, if youd caught it early?


    Hold it at bay, perhaps. Not reverse the damage. Id need an assistant to slice the blighted flesh free and regenerate it piecemeal.


    So dont get hit by it.


    Yes. Maya let out a choked laugh and fell silent.


    Erebus. I called to him. The bannerlord was standing guard nearby, pretending not to listen. He knelt at my side.


    Yes, your grace?


    How did you identify the leader? By his staff? I asked.


    Erebus shook his head. There were more than a few staff-wielders amongst them. It was the pelt. The leader was the only elf wearing a white pelt.


    Did his death factor in the retreat?


    Erebus nodded Almost definitively. After he fell, their fighters grew disorganized, their morale broken.


    How many of them were there? Best guess?


    A few thousand. Erebus mused. His expression grew dark. If they hadnt whittled us down at the beginning, I doubt they would have dared to attack so brazenly.


    Thank you. I said.


    Maya stared down at me with eyes of stone. Her fingers brushed my cheek. Dont leave me behind again. Please.


    I tried to give her a reassuring smile. It wont be like last time, Nilend. Ill see you soon.


    Finally, the darkness took me.


    In the endless black that followed, a familiar voice spoke.


    Again.

 Chapter 149: Whitefall VI

    Chapter 149: Whitefall VI


    I snapped back into my body, blinking several times.


    There was no way of immediately knowing exactly how far back Id gone, making this the most important part. It was still the same dew-crested morning. All the wagons and carriages were whole, meaning the drephin hadnt made their move. I spun towards the overlooking mountain.


    The drephin leaderthe one who held his staff over his head, wasnt there. And instead of a throng of wolves, there was a handful. But there was still a gods damned raccoon wandering into the camp.


    Maya turned to the side, inclining her arm in practiced introduction. Theres someone who wished to meet you.


    The girl gave me a shy smile that immediately set my nerves on edge and bent in a deep curtsy. Melody, of House Vasemoux. Its lovely to meet you, my lord.


    House Vasemoux. The noble tailors.


    I returned a shallow bow. Right. Vasemoux. Your family did wonderful work for the queens wedding. Before my time, of course, but the work is immortalized in the artwork that lines my mothers hall.


    Maya expertly cut in. Lady Melody has been regaling me with tales of her houses mercantile savvy. Imports and exports of their designs and products have been successful in the Panthanian market She trailed off as I scanned the perimeter. The raccoon from before was hoisting its way up to the seat of the mobile armory.


    I opened my palm, sending a tiny spark dancing down my leg and across the grass. It was easy to manipulate the sparks at this size. It was when they were most agile.


    I guided the spark behind the raccoon, up towards the back of its neck, and flared. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    The raccoon half-expanded, then dropped dead with a throaty cry, its grotesque expansion immediately halted.


    That they didnt explode upon death was a mixed positive. It gave us time to deal with the animals. If they continued dying one by one, however, I was certain whoever was coordinating this among the drephin would take notice, and cut their losses by detonating the lot.


    Melody turned around. Whats


    Dont look. I hissed.


    Melody froze.


    Situation? Maya snapped. Her staff was already in her hand, held casually by my side. And while her head remained trained on me, I saw her barely visible pupils darting back and forth beneath the surface of her eyes.


    Drephin. Less than a half-hour. Using animals as bombs. I recited mindlessly, running through my head for a solution. They had a relatively small force and only attacked once our number was decimated by the opening salvo.


    Sure, drephin, of course. Maya paused. Do you know


    Only what you told me.


    Shit. Maya said.


    Drephin, like the mythical shapeshifting elves? Those drephin? Melody sounded bemused.


    The drephins ability to change into animals was something Maya hadnt mentioned. We both turned towards her slowly.


    Melody flushed. I read a lot. In my free time. Maybe a bit more than is proper.


    Tell us what you know. Maya said.


    Everything. I added.


    Um, uh, I, uh. Melody was bright red, more so than when Id embarrassed her. In retrospect, I felt poorly for the way Id treated her. Given her station, and the lack of powerful warriors in her house, she wasnt used to being on the spot.


    I gave Maya an apologetic look, then stepped into Melodys space and took her hand. My lady. The campno, the kingdomis in danger. Any knowledge you have could be invaluable to us. To me. I held her gaze, channeling reassurance and warmth.


    Maya made a barely audible gagging noise.


    Melody swallowed, and her blush diminished to her ears and button nose. This is all according to legendIve never seen one. Im not sure anyone living has.


    Thats fine. Anything you know could help us. Just start at the beginning.


    Melody took a deep breath. In the dark era, before the formation of the world, there were a series of competing lights, no larger than a speck of dust, each with the potential to bring life. The gods were petty, and snuffed out these lights as they grew prematurely, concerned with their compatriots ability to influence the path of light aligned with their essence. This is commonly referred to as the deistic schism


    Maybe not that far back. I amended.


    Right. Melody bit her lip. But if I dont explain Meinhawks theory of cosmic regression and the rift that transpired between the old gods and new, the entire backstory of the drephin wont make sense.


    I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Well figure it out from context. Youre doing great; keep going.


    Theyre commonly believed to be celestial elves, cobbled and transformed by the old godsbecause of all the stuff you want me to skipbut really, it was only one god. Nychta


    The human goddess of the night? Maya interjected.


    Melody shook her head. The drephin knew her by another name. Denmother. Nychta shielded their light, hid it from the other gods. This was how the celestial elves were born. Unbound by age and time, they were by far the most powerful beings in the world. Capable of understanding and speaking any language, knowledgeable beyond any mind alive today. She was suddenly nervous. Thats um technically heretical


    The room was silent, all eyes averting to various walls and floors.


    With a frustrated sigh, I spread my hands wide. Alright then. Who would like the opportunity to study the Dantalion flame and serve as my attendant throughout my time in Whitefall, and have your research projects funded by the crown?


    Several heads snapped over, and a number of hands raised.


    Treasonous bastards! Talmon thundered.


    Never underestimate the opportunism of mages.


    Good. All I need you to do is quench this flame.


    I approached the mages who volunteered, holding a flame in my palm. Discreetly, I forced more magic into the spark than necessary, raising the small flames temperature.


    The first magean average looking manwas unable to affect the flame at all.


    The seconda stern womanreached a hand out. The flame died to a pinprick, but remained steady until she collapsed backward in a sheen of sweat.


    My hope waned. Quenching the third stage of the Dantalion flame with void magic was no easy task. The fire wasnt fueled by mana alone. From Veldanis description, it pulled from everything around it, including the ancient magic that maintained the separation between realms. But Id used the third stage when Id faced off against my father. If the void mages were truly this limited, there was a possibility Talmon was telling the truth.


    I approached the next mage, not expecting much. He was still a boy, maybe four, five years older than me. There was a dreamy look in his gray eyes, and in a sea of silken shoes and leather boots, his feet were clad in peasants sandals.


    He didnt immediately attempt to quench the flame. Rather, he studied it, reaching a tentative finger. Understanding dawned in his eyes as he focused not on the flame, but the space between my palm on the fire.


    The mage held his hand palm out and clenched a fist.


    Before I could add more mana to the fire to maintain it, the spark died.


    The mage began to rise.


    Sit your flea-ridden ass down, Eckor. Talmon warned.


    Eckor sat. Pardon my insolence, Master Evoker. But with word circulating certain individuals in the administration would be willing to sell us for copper, I think its best to explore my prospects.


    Talmon stoodover the boy, leaning down. Ungrateful. Your selection was a gift. And its the closest youll ever come to nobility. Without it, youre nothing but a common-born cur.


    I sleep in a broom closet. Eckor said, his tone more matter-of-fact than spiteful.


    With a mattress. Talmon argued. And its only temporary, until the Crimsons Brands garrison is expanded.


    Thereve been several expansions. Eckor said quietly.


    Consider your future. Talmon insisted.


    Will the Crimson Brand fund my agricultural initiative? Ive submitted several well documented queries.


    Talmon squeezed the bridge of his nose. Crop and alchemical production is not a proper focus for Crimson Brand resources.


    Lazily, Eckors head swung in my direction. Will you fund my agricultural initiative?


    It wasnt much of a question. Id have funded research into the aromatic qualities of horseshit if it got me a void mage. At the very least, Eckors proposition sounded beneficial to the kingdom. Done. Along with a minor title to open doors that would be closed to you as a commoner.


    Wonderful. Then consider me at your disposal. Eckor smiled, then looked suddenly concerned. I only packed robes. Do I have to give them back, or


    Get out! Talmon thundered.


    ***


    Eckor stretched as we emerged from the Crimson Brand tent. Airs so fresh outside the city. So clean.


    Enjoy it while you can. I muttered, surveying our surroundings. A number of hunters bearing the Vasemoux sigil had spread out within the camp. Melody and Maya were keeping a safe distance from them, walking the perimeter of the camp. Maya had mastered the art of looking without looking; Melodys head was on a swivel.


    Perhaps finally picking up on the mood, Eckor stopped mid-stride, glancing around the camp at the hunters, his gaze landing on a mouse that scurried across our path. I held my breath, only letting it out once the mouse had passed.


    We should probably talk about why you needed me, my lord? Eckor asked suddenly. His expression hadnt changed, but the faraway look in his eye had vanished.


    Good news and bad news, Eckor. I gave him a grim smile. Good news is, you wont be sleeping in a broom closet anymore.


    My thanks. He inclined his head. And the bad?


    No use in sugarcoating it.


    Your lifes about to get a lot more complicated.

 Chapter 150: Whitefall VII

    Chapter 150: Whitefall VII


    My nerves rested on the edge of a knife. Id been in countless situations where the slightest misstep meant death. It took a while to overcome the fear that came with the possibility of losing my own life. The last few years in the sanctum had beaten that fear out of me.


    But the fear that others might die because of my mistakes haunted me just as strongly as it had at the beginning. Every death was a reminder of what Id lost. A fragment of a perfect future, torn away.


    Eckor looked, understandably, like a man whod just been informed there was an unknowable number of explosives throughout the camp.


    Youre able to use void at range? I asked, trying to pull him back to the moment.


    From around here to that wagon. He indicated a wagon under repair, around thirty span from us. Im the only one in the Brand who can. Or was, anyway. Guess Im not in the Brand anymore. He muttered, walking alongside me until he spotted a chipmunk in the grass. Eckor froze in a motionless standoff, hands out to either side, face utterly serious.


    I grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him towards Maya and Melody, noting the sterling silver ring with a green gem on his finger.


    What about act normal do you not understand? I whispered.


    It was coming right at me. Eckor hissed back.


    It wasnt. Unless there was a fragment of Eckor, buried in the ground.


    Do you have any combat experience? I asked.


    We pass various trials before they grant us entry.


    Actual combat experience. I reiterated. Riot suppression, anything.


    Not unless you count sparring. Eckor said, then mused to himself. Though most of the time I just stood there, and they threw spells at me.


    Elphion.


    I told myself it didnt matter. So what, he was green. No point in fantasizing about how things could be. I needed to work with what I had.


    Void mage? Maya asked.


    Yes. This is Eckor. I made the hasty introductions, then turned to Melody. Your men in place?


    Melody wrung her hands. Yes.


    Why is she hesitating? I asked Maya before directly addressing Melody. Why are you hesitating?


    I may have told them the truth? Melody cringed. Not on purpose. It just didnt feel right deceiving them.


    I turned, searching for the nearest hunter bearing Melodys family crest. A grizzled man with white hair was brushing a horse. The motion looked awkward until I realized why. He held a crossbow loosely in his right hand, and his eyes were locked on a cottontail rabbit hopping lazily through the clearing.


    Several hunters stood on top of the armory wagon, their faces grim. One caught my eye and pressed a fist to his chest in a silent salute.


    I didnt want to incite panic. I said slowly, But it seems you have that covered.


    Pride shone through Melodys expression. They are accustomed to difficult prey, my prince. Many take a yearly absence to travel to the Northends and bring back frost bear pelts. Which we pay handsomely for, of course. All that to say, I cannot take credit for their nerve.


    I glanced at Maya. Shed been the one to bring Melody to me. At the time, I saw it as nothing more than a backhanded maneuver, a way to voice her irritation without saying it.


    Im glad we met when we did. I said honestly.


    The pleasure is mine. Melody curtsied. It is not often my house serves the crown so directly.


    An errant neigh drew my attention. Lord Erebus had arrived, three archers from his honor guard in tow. One was astride a white horse. Eerily white, as if it might be fully visible in the dark. He eyed the odd group before him, then seemed to shrug and slide off his horse, handing me the reins.


    The stage is set, your grace. Erebus gave me a solemn nod. Kerai flanked around him and heeled at my leg.


    They know when to sound the alarm?


    Immediately after your signal, not a second earlier.


    Doubt gnawed at me as I surveyed the camp. There were so many troops. So many potential swords and bows to augment the small force wed already gathered. But they were worthless if I couldnt trust them and didnt understand their motivation or the division that sundered them.


    Ready to summon? I asked Maya.


    Hes already complaining about being used to herd humans. Maya rolled her eyes. But yes.


    Youre certain the primary force will branch off? Erebus asked.


    Completely. Though I dont understand why.


    I can guess. A darkness crossed Erebuss face.


    Remember. Everything with four legs is suspect. That includes horses. If you see a horse without a saddle, stay fucking clear.


    A nod went around the group.


    I took the second horses reins and drew it towards Eckor. Speaking of horses. Can you ride?


    Eckor looked the giant beast up and down, with a fearful expression that answered the question before he opened his mouth. Is there anything um smaller?


    Youre with me, then. I gave both horses a quick estimation, handed Maya the reins to the shorter stallion, then mounted the faster-looking horse. I gave Maya a meaningful look. Try to hold off on healing the wounded until we know for sure weve delayed their attack.


    Understood.


    Kerai, I spoke to the beast directly. Its open season on everything in this camp youd normally eatother than humans, elves or dwarves. Dig in.


    Kerai scanned our surroundings, and drew low to the ground, heading off towards the east end of the camp.


    With the immediate threat gone, Eckor was left holding his soiled sleeves skyward, away from his body, looking profoundly disturbed.


    Great work, I told him.


    Research grant. Eckor muttered to himself. Totally worth it. Totally and completely worth it.


    Wed taken too long with the first group. I waited, tense, for the resulting explosions. One came from the south end of the camp.


    None followed.


    My jaw worked in surprise as I surveyed the would-be battlefield. A few hunters were still finishing up, pulling their blades free of various animal corpses. It shocked me to see several guardsmen doing the same. I couldnt believe it. Any moment, several animals we missed would explode, and the drephin would attack in force.


    Nothing happened. The alarm sounded. This time, everyone reacted as Id expected them to the first time. The camp moved in one panicked mass, civilians and soldiers alike retreating towards the circled wagons and carriages in the center.


    airn. An errant breeze carried a fragment of my name. I turned and saw Maya galloping full speed towards a small group of drephin. It was a partial relief to see they werent a part of the greater attacking force. They were in varying states of transformation, and still kept certain aspects of their animal forms.


    That relief faded as I realized they were headed directly towards the clustering forces.


    I harnessed the air, jumping up onto the horse and racing to intercept. The drephin were quick on their feet, but no match for Lord Erebuss warhorse. I cut them off, only a dozen span from the circled wagons.


    The drephin slowed. They looked around them, as if theyd only just realized how quickly the tides had turned.


    One stepped forward. Scion, he hissed.


    Its over, I said harshly. If your people were coming, theyd already be here. Surrender.


    The leader of the pact held my gaze. But a few of the drephin in the rear nervously glanced towards the mountain. I flicked my eyes in the direction they were looking. The leader with the staff from last time was nowhere to be seen.


    We know how the king treats his prisoners, a woman in the back hissed.


    Coincidentally, I know nothing of your folk. Not for lack of desire. If you surrender here, youll be treated well. As the first envoys of your kind.


    The man in front turned his back to me, facing the others. Our goddess has spoken. Should the scion live, the desecrator will finish what was started long ago.


    My gauntlet shuddered with accumulated power. Images from the first time around flooded me. The drephin, obliterated by fire, screaming. I wanted dearly to stop this from escalating into a slaughter.


    But I recognized the determination in their expressions, after the leader spoke. The iron in their resolve. Even in the face of death.


    Please. Dont. I knew my words were futile.


    Most of them rushed forward. One remained where she was, off to the side, hands balled into fists, eyes closed. The flesh of the others bubbled and expanded


    I held out my left hand and released. The recoil was massive, and I felt the telltale pop of my arm twisting out of socket.


    When the smoke cleared, the remains of the drephin painted the landscape in a gruesome crescent that could have almost passed for art, if the ink it drew from wasnt so ghastly.


    Behind me, the mass of humans cheered. The cheer slowly grew into a roar. Some even chanted my name.


    But I couldnt look away from the survivor. The drephin woman, who stared down at the remains of her companions. Her mouth worked, widening, until a horrified shriek ripped from her throat. She screamed, her fingernails tearing streaks down her face.


    Behind her, Erebus came to a stop and raised a fist. One of his archersstill mounted, took aim at the woman.


    I shook my head. Erebus hesitated, then slowly lowered his hand.


    With a burst of mana, I called the wind, relaying a message directly to the womans ear:Run.


    She turned and fled. I told myself that this was better than the previous outcome. That instead of taking heavy losses and obliterating the drephin, wed taken minimal casualties and waylaid them.


    Maya maneuvered her horse, coming to a stop beside me. She looked harried and exhausted, but otherwise unharmed.


    Thanks for the heads-up. I told her.


    Maya glanced back at the army clustered behind the wagons. Not sure it mattered much. They were running into a killbox.


    I shook my head. If the archers coordinated and cut them down at a distance? Perhaps. But if any soldiers got antsy and rushed into melee, there could have been significant losses. Put my arm back in?


    Maya dismounted, grabbed my left arm and pulled it out to the side. A nauseating pop followed a flash of pain, and I flexed my fingers.


    Despite knowing their abilities, its hard to believe theyd use their own people like that. Maya said.


    Bad soldiers are, more often than not


    A reflection of their commander. Lord Erebus fell in line beside me. He was still watching the drephin woman flee. Shed made good time and was only a few span from the treeline. Still, Im not sure showing her mercy was the wisest course. She will not look kindly on you for sparing her, and whatever leadership they have pulling the strings will be far better informed to our capabilities than they once were.


    The woman disappeared into the darkness of the Everwood.


    It wasnt mercy, bannerlord, I said grimly.


    No?


    Call it intuition, but I have a feeling our attackers wont give up so easily. If we killed their entire first wave, wed remain in the same situation we started in.


    Ignoring the initial losses, theyd retain the initiative. That much is true. But.. Erebus stared at me as if I was mad. You intend to track an elf through the hells-blasted Everwood?


    He didnt know, of course. That Id spent the last few years tracking equally dangerous prey in far worse conditions. Shes running scared. Traumatized. If shes smart, shell double back a few times, maybe change forms if she has the mana to burn. But after that? Shell lead me straight to the source.


    Where youll what? Maya challenged. Take on their entire army?


    I sheathed my sword. Cut the head off the snake.

 Chapter 151: Whitefall VIII

    Chapter 151: Whitefall VIII


    I approached the forest, trying to keep the direction the woman fled in my mind. My thoughts wandered as I jogged towards the clearing. Demons were immune to the flame. Its only real practical use was to seal them after they were felled. The creatures of the sanctum lived in a mana-rich environment and maintained some resistance to magic.


    My time in the enclave, and subsequently, the sanctum, had skewed my perspective on the demon flame. It was a harrowing weapon. Effective, but harrowing. Gaining a reputation as the prince who burned his enemies alive at the slightest provocation wouldnt win me any allies.


    When there was more time, I needed to reconsider the best way to use my magic.


    Something seized the strap that fastened my armor to my thigh, halting me mid-stride. Kerai stared up at me, his mouth full of leather.


    Im coming back. I tried to reassure him.


    Leather strap still clenched between his teeth, Kerai shook his head in a gesture that was almost human, urgency radiating through his golden eyes.


    What I trailed off. Erebus clearly stated that abyssal panthers were intelligent. If Kerai was trying to stop me, there was a reason. I scanned the treeline, wary.


    Nothing was visibly out of place. No ambushers lying in wait, no fallen trees or stirring in the mana threads. Whichnow that I thought about itfelt entirely wrong. The Everwood paled compared to the sanctum, but it was still a hotbed of magical activity where monsters thrived. I should have felt something.


    Further down, there was a corpse. Something had sheared him in halfexpensive looking shoes and pants, and the remains of a silk shirt that was sodden with blood and entrails. And a top half that was nowhere to be seen.


    Likely a noble that had attempted to flee the battle. If Kerai hadnt warned me, Id assume he had died in the chaos.


    I drew closer and inspected the body. Whatever dealt the fatal blow was impossibly sharp. I immediately discounted the possibility a person had dealt this wound. Even a monstrously strong swordsman couldnt make a cut so clean, so perfectly symmetrical. My first thought was a monumentally powerful mage with an air affinitySaladius, for example, could use compressed, tightly focused arcs of air to slice through boulders and chunks of stone, though Id never come close to being able to recreate the feat myself.


    Kerai was growling, hackles raised. I frowned. The forest was still clear, exterior trees not nearly thick enough to fully hide behind. But Kerai was acting as if the danger was imminent.


    Unsure of what else to do, I picked up a small clump of earth and tossed it towards the tree line.


    It disintegrated in mid-air with an audible sizzle.


    Elphion.


    That was why I wasnt feeling anything from the Everwood. There was a magical barrier. A nasty one. The maimed noble had likely run headfirst into it, dead before he hit the ground. And if Kerai hadnt stopped me, I would have followed in his footsteps and triggered another reset without the slightest clue of what finished me.


    I backed away slowly. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Another barrier? Maya asked. Shed apparently noticed the detour and caught up to me, Eckor in tow.


    What are you doing? Eckor shouted, his face twisted in horror.


    Stay focused on keeping the breach open, I said calmly, giving him a smile I didnt feel. The spark disassembled muscle, then bone. Motes of violet light, each carrying a tiny blueprint, floated through the breach in the barrier to the other side.


    The pain was exquisite, all-encompassing, as my hand slowly disassembled. My right arm followed. Then my left leg.


    How delightful. A feast.


    It was the same voice Id heard after Id taken Veldanis elixir, when I repaired the gate. I toppled over, no longer able to sit upright.


    You bare your neck with hubris, kingspawn.


    If it spoke, I could reason with it. I tried to talk evenly, but my voice warbled as the pain crescendoed. Surely you want something grander than a simple death.


    I do not want. Nor do I intend anything more than the cessation of your damnable existence.


    Do you know what I am?


    I know all.


    Then youre fully aware that my end means nothing. I lowered my voice to a whisper, careful not to inflict Eckor with the miasma that encompassed anyone who heard me speak of my previous lives or resurrections. If you want me gone definitively, youll need to get creative. Wait for an ideal moment to strike.


    Hubris.


    The fire sped up as more and more pieces of myself fell away, carried through the hole by motes of flame.


    Either way, youre stuck here. Same as me. So go ahead. Stonewall me and accomplish nothing, or aid me so we can both move forward to what we truly desire.


    It was a gamble. The only card I had. And if my gut was wrong, and the presence could harm me on a more permanent levelsuch as reopening the soul-wounds from beforeI was in a world of trouble. My vision blinked out, along with the pain. I brought to mind every time Id been reborn, the strange undoing of death in the void, and commanded the flame I could no longer see or feel to follow that same pattern.


    The void called to me. My grip of the flame felt loose, intangible, so weak I wondered whether it was actually there. Fingers of doubt wrapped around my heart and squeezed. An infinite distance away, in the darkness, the silhouette of the black beast loomed over me. He drew closer, his presence heavy, all-encompassing. I clung to the loose tether of magic tightly, praying to Infaris that it wasnt already too late.


    The beast spoke, his rumbling voice uncharacteristically irritable.


    And so, the corruption finds you, yet again.

 Chapter 152: Whitefall IX

    Chapter 152: Whitefall IX


    I snapped back into my body.


    Disappointment washed over me. The presence of the black beast could only mean one thing. Id failed. And if the persistent throbbing, bone-deep pain meant the attempt to teleport through the barrier had damaged my soul, I was in a considerably worse place than where I started.


    Onlythis wasnt where I started.


    There was a canopy of trees above me.


    Eckor was still standing in the open field, his hands cupped around his mouth. He took in a massive breath, clearly preparing to shout. WakeOh. Youre alive.


    Realization dawned on me. Eckor was on the other side of the barrier.


    I made it.


    So it would seem. I looked at my arms and lower body, gently testing each of my muscles and checking my mana pathways. Pain still lingered, but nothing appeared to be drastically out of place. Just a strange hypersensitivity that made even the slight stirring of the wind unpleasant. How long was I out?


    Just long enough for me to think about who theyd place the blame on me if you killed yourself. Eckor glowered. Two, three minutes at most.


    Not long. It could have been worse, but it was still more of a head start than I wanted to give the drephin. Help Maya spread the word to stay away from the perimeter. Maybe try to mark the boundary line so there are no accidental casualties.


    And if they dont listen? Eckor looked doubtful. Im a nobody. Nobles dont like taking orders from a nobody.


    Then make sure people understand whats happening when the stubborn ones slit their own throats. I felt Eckors eyes follow me as I stood, driving mana into the inscriptions on my legs and sprinting towards where the surviving drephin had disappeared into the forest.


    To an unseasoned observer, there wouldnt be much of a trail to follow. The elf wasnt as hysterical as Id hoped. But after years of tracking more difficult prey through the sanctum, the slight impressions on the ground showed as starkly as bootprints in mud. I followed them at a breakneck pace, trying to regain the ground Id lost.


    Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that being back in the Everwooda place that had brought me little other than grief or hardshipdidnt intimidate me in the least. The trees themselves seemed smaller, less sinister than before. When the rustling of an animal or the snapping of a twig caught my ears, I looked for the source with interest and curiosity, rather than fear.


    Not that I had much time for curiosity.


    I got the feeling from both Mayas and Melodys descriptions that the drephin were probably nomadic, which automatically made this far more difficult than if Id been following someone less experienced with moving through brush undetected. Considering the drephins legendary status, their animal forms, and the absence of knowledge around them, it went without saying that their ability to traverse areas without being spotted or noticed was second to none. I needed to catch up to her as quickly as possible.


    The impressions on the ground grew more faint. There was far less disturbed brush and trampled greenery. I frowned. Shed stopped panicking, her trail better thought out and more tactical every span she covered. The deeper I went into the forest, the more complex her pathing became.


    Eventually, the impressions disappeared altogether.


    There had to be something I was missing. Carefully, I retraced my steps, trying to ensure the woman hadnt led me down a false trail, finding nothing.


    He stooped low, studying the ground where the trail faded. Our quarry spent a significant portion of mana here. He pointed a long, skeletal finger towards the northwest, where the greenery was so overgrown I wasnt sure I could have navigated it without leaving a trail. What little residue is left, while faint, points in that direction.


    Why are you see-through? I asked as an afterthought.


    Because my ability to manifest requires drawing mana from my master, and drawing mana from my master in his current state is like drinking water from a glacier. Materializing to this extent was only possible because of my considerable skill. Any more moronic questions, or may I be dismissed? Vogrin asked. Hed accepted my earlier explanation, but tinkering with him during his recovery had clearly touched a nerve.


    Thats all. Sleep. I resisted the urge to apologize and my summon faded from view. Demons werent the irrational monsters I once believed them to be. They could be bargained with, and on rare occasions they were actually reasonable. But any show of weakness was blood in the water for their kind. And there was no doubt in my mind that Vogrin would see contrition as a show of weakness.


    Perhaps there was something I could do instead of an apology once we reached Whitefall. Vogrin was shrewd, and incredibly knowledgeable, but considering the significant time hed existed only in the hells, much of his knowledge was outdated. Letting him loose in the royal library would go a long way towards making up for the slight.


    I returned my attention to the ground, following the steps to their terminus. Once I reached it, I crouched, studying the ground in greater detail. Using Vogrins direction, I finally found what I was looking for.


    There were no human-sized tracks. But where the humanoid trail ended, a well-hidden animal trail began. The woman had shifted into something small and quadruped, no larger than a rodent. Her trail led directly to a tall tree, where scratch marks on the wood showed shed successfully scaled it, out towards a narrow branch where the trail disappeareduntil I spotted a scratched up branch on a connecting tree.


    It was a clever gambit. Even if someone followed the altered trail, this route would slow them down significantly.


    I leapt from tree to tree, following the highway of mangled branches. Several times I had to pause, actively focusing on gathering from the ambient mana in the Everwood before I could continue.


    Vogrin was right. My mana pathways were less efficient than before, and I was still dealing with the considerable post-sanctum adjustment every infernal who graduated dealt with on return to the surface. However I dealt with the drephin leader, it needed to be swift. Completely decisive. If this devolved into open conflict, Id quickly find myself drained and helpless.


    The scent of char pervaded the canopy as green leaves and healthy tree trunks suddenly gave way to burned out husks and gnarled branches. The blackened clearing that remained looked like the result of an old forest fire.


    It took a moment to identify what I was seeing in the clearing. The tents, and the drephin themselves, were so well camouflaged I could have easily walked past this place unaware.


    A young male drephin pushed his way out of a tent, scanning his surroundings immediately, hand resting uneasily on the hilt of a blade. Once the tent flap settled, the tent itself almost seemed to disappear. It was impossible to know whether this effect was the result of magic or craftsmanship. Either way, the result was impressive. If the drephin were alert and hidden, a regiment of men could have marched through here and missed the encampment entirely.


    It was large, but not large enough to house the numbers Id seen on the first loop. It stood to reason they had more camps like this, multiple operating points deep within the Everwood. They were coordinating somehow.


    If the woman hadnt led me here, it would have been nigh impossible to find the correct camp.


    Out of the corner of my eye, the mound of dirt and leaves beside me appeared to be breathing. I pivoted towards the movement and drew my sword, pointing it towards the movement.


    A muddy arm burst from concealment and grabbed the dull end of my blade, yanking me down to the ground before I could let go.


    I hit the ground, reaching backward for my knife. Something seized my head and chin in a vise-like grip, as if preparing to tear it from my shoulders.


    King Gil growled.


    Be. Still.

 Chapter 153: Whitefall X

    Chapter 153: Whitefall X


    My father was a sight to behold. And almost entirely unrecognizable. He was unarmored, his expensive tabard torn to scraps, but otherwise unwounded. There was mud smeared across his face and neck, giving him the appearance of a wild man.


    I stopped struggling and held my breath.


    There was a rustle, barely perceptible. And another. If I wasnt holding completely still, I would have missed them. A jagged dagger came into view. Its surface was dull, as if the metal that formed the blade was treated with something to dim its reflection. The wielders gauntlet came into view shortly after, animal skin wrapped in fur lining.


    There was one very important aspect to consider. The drephin apparently had some sort of telepathic capability. If the sentry spotted us, I wasnt sure I could intervene before he sounded the alarm.


    Unless


    Id discovered an interesting theory during my study of language. Several scholars claimed that when we actively thinkhear that little voice inside our headsour throat muscles make small articulations that mimic the larger ones required for speech.


    The drephin locked eyes with me. I sprang forward, forcing air through his mouth and into his lungs. Surprised and disoriented, he reeled.


    I drew back my left fist and slammed it into his nose.


    His head snapped back, the result of the blow an audible clang. My father rushed forward, wind in his wake, and caught the elf before he hit the ground.


    A bird twittered nearby.


    We both tensed, searching in the sounds direction. It sounded nothing like any birdcall Id heard during my time in the Everwood. Competent sentries would move in pairs. I wasnt sure why they were using more traditional means to communicate if they could communicate telepathically. Perhaps it had a limited range or was too costly for frequent use.


    The same warble repeated, somehow more insistent this time.


    King Gil hefted a heavy stone and crept up, keeping a tree between himself and the camp up ahead.


    Does he intend to bludgeon the entire camp?


    I answered my confusion when my father hefted the rock up to his shoulder, squinted into the distance, and threw it.


    The projectile flew forward at a staggering velocity with very little arc, disappearing into the forest. A full second later, there was the sound of a ripe melon striking hard ground.


    King Gil grinned. Now that I was seeing him from a distance, he looked completely mad, covered in dirt and dried blood, with a golden looped string fastened to his belt that was threaded through at least a dozen elven ears.


    Theyre going to see the bodies. I used a burst of air to carry the whisper.Updated from


    He considered that, peeking around the tree to measure our proximity from the camp. Then he pointed to the body and made a complex series of hand gestures. Id watched plenty of rangers use them before, but did not know what they meant.


    I cant understand you.


    My father had the gall to roll his eyes, then communicated the message in a series of vague points.


    Drag him back that way. Ill get the other.


    I intended to grab their leader. The shaman. Or whatever he is. We get him to drop the barrier, then gain as much distance from the Everwood as we can. Even if that means going the long way around. If we can get him to Whitefall as a prisoner, we can leverage him to negotiate with the drephin.


    Plains would be best, my father mused. Once they lose their favored terrain and the element of surprise, their beast gimmick doesnt work nearly as well.


    Yeswait. Youve encountered the drephin before?


    Theres nothing in this world I havent fought, boy. My father stared up at me, still crouched near the bodies. That aside, your plan is imperfect. The drephins camp is large. They will not sit idly by while you pluck their leader from its depths.


    He was correct. The moment we acted, we would be kicking a hornets nest. I needed to think. Take stock.


    I dropped to one knee, removing my satchel from my arm and unrolling the leather wrap that held most of my ingredients. I tossed several aside, searching for a specific combination.


    Do you intend to trade them a salve for their hemorrhoids? My father mocked.


    Keep laughing, old man.


    Flashpowder. Shrieking lily. Eruption berry. Glass capsules containing sulfur, saltpeter and dionystic charcoal. And something else. Something for theatricality. I stalled for a moment, reviewing the ingredients before I landed on a glowing red mushroom cap.


    Perfect.


    ***


    Its easy to miss the forest for the trees. Moreso when youre in the actual forest. Patrolling a wooded area requires significantly more attention to detail than an urban environment.


    Perhaps thats why, at first, none of the elves seemed to notice the small but clearly visible red light floating overhead, moving into the clearing from the opposite side. A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead as I kept my focus on the floating orb.


    I didnt know what the mushroom was called. Only that it grew in the temperate chambers of the sanctum, and glowed vibrantly when it interacted with mana of any kind. Without the mushroom, it would look like nothing more than a mix of capsules and ingredients floating through the air.


    With the mushroom, it would look like something else entirely.


    I still say its overcomplicated. King Gil leaned against a nearby tree, watching the floating orb.


    Unsurprising. His version of simple most likely involved surrounding the drephin with fire and charging in. I guided the orb towards the center of the camp, keeping it balanced between alternating gusts of wind.


    A drephin stopped mid-stride and looked up.


    Now.


    I allowed my spark to emulsify the shrieking lily. A banshees wail emitted from the orb, loud enough that even at a distance I couldnt help but cringe. The first capsule dropped, thin glass shattering on impact with earth, grass, and dirt flying out from the impact point.


    Drephin poured out of the tents. Someone screamed in elvish. Moments later, others repeated the same phrase. I didnt know enough elvish to translate what they were saying, but I could guess.


    Berserker pixie!

 Chapter 154: Whitefall XI

    Chapter 154: Whitefall XI


    Dirt, grass, and plant matter showered the camp. The sparse cries of alarm turned to a dull roar as more and more drephin poured from the tents like angry bees, searching for the source of the chaos. Above, the berserker pixie continued her siege, collapsing tents and detonating water supplies, realistically zipping side to side, dodging the projectiles that assailed her.


    For an untested idea, the distraction worked far better than I could have hoped. They were too busy trying to fight the thing to notice the lack of casualties.


    Keep the pressure on, Vogrin. I called out to my summon.


    Im a demon, master. Torment is what I do. Vogrin said. He sounded whimsical. Almost happy. There was a possibility he was enjoying this a little too much.


    I glanced over at my father beside me. His hand was glued to his jaw, gaze focused on the camp. His focus was so complete I wondered if he saw something I didnt, until he made a choking noise, then laughed. The laughterdark and richgrew louder, tears shining in his eyes, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.


    What the hell was this? Was he mad?


    King Gil squeezed me to him, tightly enough that my bones creaked. Gods. Look at them. Creatures of myth and legend, nothing more than irate ants chasing a long-departed boot. You did that, boy. You.


    I let out a nervous chuckle. Still gotta capture the shaman. Thats the hard part.


    Fuck the shaman. This is gold.


    You really think so?


    The question popped out before I could stop it, contradicting years I spent telling myself that my fathers approval didnt matter, that I didnt give a damn what he thought. He studied me. Of course. Any moment now, he would turn. Push me away. See the moment as weakness.


    Instead, he ruffled my hair and smiled. I think, with the two of us together, that usurper of yours is in for a quick war.


    I didnt respond. Couldnt. My lips felt bound, my throat dry.


    King Gils head snapped to attention. There he is, the bastard.


    Amid the chaos, the shaman emerged from one of the center tents, flanked on both sides by drephin wielding staves. He whipped around, shouting elvish at the panicking throng, but mostly, they ignored him.


    The strange spell of paralysis faded as I walked the circumference of the camp and took in the scene, searching for an opening. Gil kept pace behind me.


    Question is, how are you going to get him out? Gil asked.


    Really? Not pushing for assassination? I called over my shoulder.


    Gods no. I want to see you solve this. Use all the resources at your disposal.


    If what I had in mind worked, getting the shaman out of the camp would be easy. Getting through the forest and back to our people, however, would be harder. Unless


    I hesitated. Does that include you?


    Gil looked at me as if Id sprouted a third eye. Were allies; our interests are aligned. Why the hells wouldnt it?


    There was no trace of sarcasm in the statement. No hint of disappointment. I took a moment to remind myself who my father was. That a matter of days ago, hed threatened to slaughter every infernal in the enclave, shattering the painstaking progress Id made in an instant.


    But wasnt this supposed to be about rebuilding? Letting go of old grudges for the sake of the grander plan? Putting what hed threatened aside, hed done exactly what he promised to do.


    He waited.


    I made a decision. Circle around. Position directly across from me in a straight line, with the shaman in the center. Theres no way to know exactly when well have a window, so be ready.


    Gil squinted at the camp, then smiled a savage grin.


    It worked? I said, barely able to believe it.


    Youre a fucking menace! Gil shouted, leaping effortlessly over a burned out tree that blocked our path. The scourge of knife ears from here to Onri!


    Not really what Im going for I cut off. There was a swell of distant howls behind us. The drephin had caught on. Not all of them, but enough to be a problem. A wolf broke through the clearing behind us, followed by another. My father was fastfaster than a human had any right to bebut the wolves would be faster. Theyll outrun us.


    Aye, my father acknowledged.


    I was almost spent. Had to bring it home. I reached out and summoned the second circle beneath me. Blue light strung together as the circle formed instantaneously. Alright. Let go.


    He dropped me onto the circle. I landed on my knees, keeping hold of the armor strap at his waist, skating along behind him as I rotated to face our pursuers.


    Three wolves shot out of the brush. If they were patient, they might have posed a threat. But a brief glance was all I needed to spot the agitation in their movements. They panicked, bolted off without a plan to catch us before we returned to the central camp.


    All three of them charged forward at once.


    I smiled. Just because I didnt have enough mana to summon an aegis didnt mean I couldnt improvise.


    I summoned the circle directly in front of me just as the wolves leapt towards us. They saw ittried to divertbut either their magic was limited in their beast forms, or none of them had any method of staving off the inevitable.


    Two wolves smashed face-first into the circle. The thirdby far the smartest of the lotrotated upward, her forelegs clinging to the upper circumference of the mana figure as her torso slammed into it painfully. In my haste, Id placed the magical barrier at a slight angle, and the momentum pushed her upward and towards us.


    I watched grimly as she scrambled to the top of the circle as it skyrocketed towards the canopy, hopping down, bouncing from tree limb to tree limb. Before they fell, the two prior wolves focused almost entirely on my father and the hostage he carried. Judging from the rage in her eyes, this one seemed almost entirely fixated on me.


    Out of options, I drew my sword and waited.


    Cmon. Youre not stupid. Dont do this.


    The wolf bounced between three trees in a zigzagmore movement than was strictly necessary, probably trying to throw me off. But Thoth was infinitely faster. I tracked the pattern, waited for her to hesitate.


    There it was. She stopped for just a moment, gathering enough power for one last leap and dove directly towards me, jaws parting, showing a row of vicious white teeth.


    I braced, drawing my sword back, preparing to swing at the perfect moment.


    It never came.


    The wolf shifted back into drephin form mid-jump. The sudden change in weight sent her plummeting to the ground a few span short of my circle. She rolled once and caught herself. Rage radiating in her eyes, she stood to her full height.


    I realized it was the sole survivor from the earlier group, the same one Id tracked through the forest.


    She stared me down with a look of disgusted defiance I knew all too well. As the distance between us grew, her silhouette growing smaller and smaller, she struck her chest and extended a fist towards me, a sober message that transcended the language barrier.


    Ill find you.


    I know.


    The woman disappeared, several trees obstructing my view. There were more howls further back. More of the drephin realizing what had happened and giving chase. But they were so distant, I doubted they would reach us in time.


    Beneath me, the circle faded. I hopped off and sprinted after my father, barely keeping up with his breakneck pace until we broke through the treeline.


    One thought overshadowed all others. The Everwood didnt hold the same threat to me it once had, but the feeling of menace and malignant evil remained.


    I sincerely wished never to set foot in it again.

 Chapter 155: Whitefall XII

    Chapter 155: Whitefall XII


    In the stories, they always color the end of battles with orange rays of a magmatic sunset. Even the most narrow victory invokes this, no matter how heavy the toil or many the fallen. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Reality, however, is far less glamorous. Dirt and grime gets everywhere, taking any moment of respite or distraction to advance its invasion, coating armor, weapons, and equipment. Soldiers tire. Those who surrender are more often treated to the heel of a boot than seldom antiquated customs of respect and honor.


    We checked the perimeter first to ensure the barrier was gone. Unlike the barrier that cut off retreat from the sanctum all those years ago, the shaman had not anchored his magic to a power source, and subsequently, the barrier likely had dissolved shortly after he fell unconscious. Tired, tense faces followed us as we entered the camp, flicking to the drephin still held unceremoniously beneath my fathers arm.


    A ragged cheer went up on our approach. There were still traces of carnage, but the small number of human bodies scattered across the grounds were already gone. Probably loaded into a wagon acting as a mobile morgue.


    King Gil held the shaman up high for all to see, giving him a solid shake. Then he dropped the elf to the ground in a heap. Two of his dark-clad honor guard appeared from nowhere and hauled the prisoner off, pausing only to slap a pair of shining manacles across his arms and tighten them. There were a series of runic inscriptions on the manacles.


    Those will hold him? I asked, watching the guards carry the unconscious elf off towards the Crimson Brands tent.


    Theyve held far stronger, King Gil confirmed. Then, as if hed tired of the moment of respite, he rounded on me. Why the hells didnt you bring anyone with you?


    You didnt.


    Im the King, whelp. Whats your excuse?


    I considered, briefly, what exactly to tell him. Informing my father of everything that had happenedthe strange behavior of the troops, their reticence in coming to the bannerlords aidmight show too much of my hand, or worse, incite more extreme measures, if the order to allow a rout had come from him, as I suspected.


    Breaching the barrier was difficult with the resources available to me, I said.


    Gils face darkened. Youre telling me that an entire tent full of bumbling, chanting bastards couldnt manage something as simple as that?


    I was already on unsteady ground with the Brand. As they were likely to be my only readily available resource for advancement during this return to Whitefall, I wasnt keen on pissing them off as a whole more than I already had, regardless of the poor leadership of this group.


    They offered a degree of assistance. Without it, escaping the barrier at all would have been impossible, I said.


    A degree of assistance, My father repeated, with the sort of emphasis that told me he had fixated on my wording and would not be dissuaded.


    One of their numberEckorwas very helpful. I pointed to where Eckor sat, idly staring up at the sky next to the makeshift medical tent. He was no longer dressed in the Crimson Brand regalia, dark robe replaced by a simple tabard and ill-fitting trousers that were shredded at the knees.


    How fortuitous. For him. The menace in my fathers voice filled me with secondhand fear. He walked by the zoned-out mage, pulling a golden rod from the bag tied at his belt and launching the currency towards Eckor with a flick of his thumb. The golden rod bounced off Eckors forehead, and the mage started, first staring at the king, then at the shining gold now nestled in the grass.


    King Gil didnt so much as pause. He continued towards the Crimson Brands tent with heavy footfalls.


    Well, I tried.


    Whatuhare you going to do, my lord? I called after him. Surely he didnt mean to kill them. Human mages were rare enough that I couldnt imagine even the most short-sighted tyrant slaughtering their mages for stepping out of line, especially when, technically, they had followed orders.


    Basics of caravan management, boy, My father called back, loud enough for the entire clearing to hear. Unless we intend to dump some of these simpletons, or worse, our valuable cargo, our first order of business is to replace the horses we lost.


    I watched him go, unsure what he meant. Just days ago, I was prepared to add King Gil to my ever-growing list of enemies. In the Everwood, that grim expectation shifted. Turned into possibility, rather than a certainty. He wasnt a great ruler. Probably not even a good one. He still turned to violence as a first and last resort, with minor variation in the middle. But hed ended slavery in the capital. And he seemed cleverer than before. More open to alternate solutions and less traditional ideas.


    And the miasma of bitterness that so often drove him to cruelty was gone.


    With a sigh, Melody leaned forward, a lock of golden hair spilling over her shoulder. There is something I wish to ask. Its plagued me for some time, but I fear my query would be seen as improper.


    The least I could do was give her a straight answer.


    I took another sip. Are we not friends, Lady Melody?


    I suppose we are. Melody winced.


    I made a vague, dismissive gesture. Then leave propriety discarded in our wake, for we are beyond it.


    Melody idly traced a pattern into the canvas covering. My mother sent me on this journey with a directive. The same directive countless noble parents give their daughters of marriageable age. One I shared little interest in. I actually intended to ignore itor at the very least, pursue it with minimal effort. Mother handles much of the house business herself, and I saw no reason not to follow in her footsteps.


    But something changed.


    Melody nodded, her eyes taking on the glassy sheen of inebriation. You were wary at first, but you didnt look down on me for my house. You let me help. And even more astounding, you shared the credit.


    I took a last sip. The first had been for social lubrication, the second for comfort. The third was because I wanted to. Any more, and the gluttonous demon within me threatened to awaken. The last thing I needed was to rouse my more destructive appetites.


    I take it you talked to my father?


    Melody shivered. This entire trip, the King hasnt so much as looked my way. But yesterday, he approached me. Just stood there, looming


    Thats his default state.


    I thought he was about to tear my arms off, Melody said in quiet wonderment. Thats all I could think of when he took my hand. Imagine my surprise when he kissed it and bowed, offering thanks for my contribution.


    Recognition entirely deserved, I pointed out. Your hunters and your knowledge of the drephin were both crucial. Without either, casualties would have mounted.


    Most nobles would have taken the credit and rewarded us later, on their own terms, Melody insisted.


    Something Ive learned, I said, working through the words slowly even as I scanned the perimeter, is that concepts such as pedigree and bloodline are vastly overvalued. Commoner or royalty, man or woman, adult or child. In the end, it makes little difference. You can find useful people everywhere, if youre willing to look.


    Melody set her mouth in determination. She guzzled from the wineskin one last time, barely capping it before she tossed it aside.


    I know this isnt proper Melody started.


    Were ditching propriety, remember.


    Right. And that traditionally, the man asks the woman after a round of furtive looks and weeks, sometimes months of outings. But barring some unforetold disaster, we arrive in Whitefall tomorrow, where you will be met with a number of favors and gifts from individuals far more significant than myself.


    Youll always have my ear, Lady Melody.


    Melodys distinguished voice picked up tempo, words falling over each other. She pulled a second, more ornate handkerchief from her blouse. Would you ever consider courting me?


    Somewhere in the depths of my mind, Vogrin laughed.

 Chapter 156: Whitefall XIII

    Chapter 156: Whitefall XIII


    Despite all efforts to still my reaction, something in my face answered for me.


    Melody immediately backpedaled. Not like that! Its justat the center of so much gossip mystery, youll have a long line of ladies looking to make an introduction. Some of whom you likely wish to avoid offending. Were we to secure a temporary engagement, it would lighten that burden of suitors somewhat. Not completely, but


    Melody trailed off and placed her face in both hands, a flush creeping down her cheeks to her neck.


    I patted her gently on the back, keeping my hand high. I admire your courage, my lady.


    Stop. Ive never been so embarrassed. Her hands muffled her voice.


    If it helps, Im also a little embarrassed, I said. Here I am, in the company of a woman as beautiful as she is clever


    Stop. Melody dragged out the word.


    A woman I wouldnt bat an eye at courting, were circumstances different. And yet, I cannot reciprocate her advances.


    Melody evaluated me, some of the drunkenness fading from her eyes. Her mouth dropped open, as if the gods themselves spelled it out for her. Your heart is spoken for.


    The statement startled me. I was aware Id underestimated Melody from the beginning, but I couldnt fathom how shed put that together. I stared out into the night. Honestly, its the opposite. Im not sure Im capable of love.


    She was quiet for a few moments, absorbing the statement. You know, you cant just put something like that out in the open like that without explaining it. Then, a beat later. Wait. Did something happen between you and the infernal emissary?


    No, I said. But Id hesitated, and Melody pounced on the lapse.


    Of course, Melody groused. Shes so mature, and put together, and capable of magic, and shes always swishing that tail of hers back and forth so seductively


    I snorted, then laughed. Perhaps it was possible in certain contexts for an infernal to swish their tail back and forth seductively, but it was most often an expression of nervousness. Almost a tic.


    Youre making light of me. Melody turned away and crossed her arms.


    Im not. Justindulge mewhat gave you that idea? That there was anything between the emissary and me.


    Hate and love often act as the sun and moon. Distant reflections of each other. Shes too angry with you, Melody said. Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when conversation ebbs, and shes reminiscing, its like shes simmering just below a boil. That kind of anger doesnt come from nowhere. Either you did something awfulwhich Im having trouble imaginingor she loved you once, and you let her down.


    We I paused, weighing my words carefully. If it was anyone else, I might have fed them a tall tale about some foreign fiancee my father intended to pair me with. But considering how perceptive shed proven herself to be, it was entirely possible shed see through the lie and draw the wrong conclusions. It was a little of both. Maya and I had a moment. We were close for a long time. But when things grew dire, I did something difficult. Something I thought was necessary to protect her. And my actions wounded her deeply.


    Was it as necessary as you thought? Melody asked.


    Yes. The answer jumped to my lips, then faded unspoken. There was a time I could have sworn to it. When I believed that cutting all contact with the sanctum and allowing almost everyone I knew to think I was dead was the correct course. The only course. Beyond being unfathomably powerful, Thoth had eyes everywhere and used augury to spy on her enemies frequently.


    The enchanted ring on my finger glinted in the dark. It grew hot to the touch and trembled in the presence of a scrying spell, along with blocking the effects. With it, I hid from Thoth after the fall. It made sense. You cant spy on a dead man. And if shed looked in on any of my close allies, shed see all the grief one would expect from those who recently lost a friend.


    It was necessary in the short-term, to be certain. But after the first year, when the ring grew cool and never once warmed again, Id maintained my silence.


    I told myself there was no way to be sure. Thoth was unpredictable. It wasnt beyond her to pretend to lose interest as a shrewd feint, only to start back up again and catch me unprepared. I intended to wait only a few weeks to make contact. Those weeks stretched into months and beyond.


    Because it was more than just caution. More than just busying myself with clearing dangerous corrupted creatures from the sanctum.


    I was afraid. Terrified of what shed do to the infernals for hiding me, but more intimately, afraid of coming face to face with her again.


    I dont know, I finally answered.


    Melody appeared lost in thought. Not wanting to rush her, I pushed the wineskin away and took up a bowl of stew. It was cool, bordering on cold, the steam filtering up from the bowl long since faded. But the flavor was exquisite. Salty, and rich, and perfectly spiced. I peered at it suspiciously.


    Did a fae sneak into camp and replace the cook?


    Melody scoffed at herself. My mothers recipe. Was supposed to be a part of the whole pitch. Not only is she cute, she knows her way around a stew! But then I choked and messed up the order.


    Happens to the best of us. I pointed my spoon at her. But let it be said. Youre a stew artist.


    A stew aficionado? Melody tried.


    A mage, with the element of stew.


    We shared a quiet laugh. The air took on a sudden chill as evening slid into night.


    You know, you never answered me, Melody said suddenly.


    About what? I asked.


    She gave me a meaningful look. Whatever happened, Maya still cares for you. You made a mistake. Maybe its fixable, maybe it isnt. But if you truly believe what you said, that youre incapable of love, it wont be.


    I nearly accepted her advice and moved on. But I couldnt. The offhand remark Id made was tied to something deeper, something I was almost desperate to unpack.


    Its not that Im incapable. In some ways, I fall a little too easily. A chance meeting, a sultry glance, whispered words in the dark. Ive never been with someone I didnt love in some capacity, even if only for a day. I think that might be part of the problem.


    Tired and frustrated, I sent down a circle for her. Maya peered at it, then chose to ignore it, climbing the wagon effortlessly and sitting beside me. We jostled as the signaling whistle echoed through the caravan as lanterns were lit, bathing the surrounding plains in a dull orange glow, and the caravan began to move.


    How are you? Maya asked quietly.


    I reached out to the air, my brow furrowed, adjusted the currents so they stopped our voices from leaving the small perimeter. All turned around.


    Your father was not what I expected.


    Nor I.


    Hes craftier than Id imagined from the stories. More reserved.


    He killed one of his honor guard right in front of you, I pointed out.


    Maya shook her head. Hes a violent man, to be sure. Savage. But he wears that savagery like a cloak. Disguises the cunning within. Shrouds himself in blood, the way others put on airs.


    Not all the savagery is for show, I warned. Right now, were something he wants. People he has plans for. Mostly, that violence is exactly what it appears to be.


    Youre being reductive, Maya accused.


    Youre picking a fight.


    Hardly.


    I rubbed my temples again. Well done, by the way.


    Well done with what? Maya asked, her expression defensive.


    With everything. For how you dealt with my father. That was a diplomatically charged situation in every possible way, but you played your hand perfectly. And made sure you had a winning card up your sleeve.


    Maya crossed her arms and looked away. I expected youd be angry that I didnt mention the queens progress.


    Sure, I would have liked to have known. But its not as if the gods have spoiled us for time since I returned. And if it wasnt for you, everything would have spiraled out of control.


    Youre welcome, Maya said. Her brow suddenly furrowed. How many times did you die, fighting the drephin? Maya asked.


    I studied her, trying to understand why she was bringing this up now. Once.


    Maya leaned forward, elbows perched on her knees, the pointed tip of her tail snaking up and wrapping around her wrist. I realized something during your absence. Kind of pointless given the timing, but in a twisted way, it was a comfort.


    Tell me.


    That even if you hadnt died, the version of you I cherished could have disappeared without warning. Experiences we shared, still fresh in my memory, gone to you. A passing moment in my life spanning an eternity in yours.


    I felt brittle, exposed. What she had just stated so clearly, Id been too cowardly to dwell on.


    Its less than you think, I said quietly, referring to the time Id lost to resets. It was impossible to pin down exactly how much. If I was forced to guess? Probably a year and a half, maybe two.


    I reached out a hand, and Maya passed the pipe. I took a long drag and held it, feeling that old familiar tingle in my lungs, then breathed out. Maya stared into the night, searching the shadows.


    The quantity doesnt matter, she finally said. What matters is that the gap between us will never diminish. It was always going to grow. Youll change and adapt, do whatever you need to do to overcome whatever trials you face. Meanwhile, I stagnate. And eventually, one day, Ill no longer even recognize you.


    I wanted to point out the fact that shed changed nearly as much as I had, if not more so. But that would only lead to an argument. And there was a troubling degree of truth to the greater point she was making.


    Where does that leave us? I finally asked.


    I dont know, Maya admitted. All I can say for certain is that I believe in what youre trying to do. To the point I was ready to carry on alone, doing everything in my power to bring the future we imagined to fruition. I wont abandon that commitment now that youre back.


    Ill take all the help I can get, I admitted. Then, I hesitated. Im sorry, Maya. I never meant to leave you in the dark for so long. She just I trailed off.


    Maya placed her hand on mine, and I started. Her face was hard, her lips thin. She scares me too.


    We sat in silence for a while. It reminded me of the chilly evenings wed spent out in the cold on Barions roof. On many of them, we hadnt talked at all. It was a rare thing, to find a person I could sit alongside in silence without growing uncomfortable. Sometimes, we do our best talking without uttering a single word.


    The sun finally crested, light rolling through the crossing like a growing wave, illuminating vast meadows as the incline flattened. The caravan shifted east, taking the mountain pass towards a nostalgic sprawl of buildings, their roofs covered in white, diminutive in the face of the massive castle that loomed over them.


    Maya stood up suddenly, straining to see Its huge. Is that?


    I thought of everyone I was about to see. My sisters. My mother. Id never intended to stay away for so long. Even now, there was a part of me that wondered if they were truly alive, or if wed arrive to find the castle empty, dead.


    But I could see thousands of people coming to and from the city gates. None of them were running. There was no smoke in the distance, no fire. Thoth wasnt lurking in the tall grass, ready to leap out and gloat that shed taken action early.


    My kingdom, the people Id once spurned, and the family Id once rejected. They were all waiting for me. Id do things right this time. No matter the cost.


    I stood and stretched. Maya continued to stare at the carved-out mountain, awestruck.


    Welcome to Whitefall.

 Chapter 157: Whitefall XIV

    Chapter 157: Whitefall XIV


    My prince.


    I glanced down from my perch on the top of the wagon, looking for the source of the voice. A servant stared up at me, blinking away snow.


    Time to prepare for the grand return? I asked.


    Aye, the servant said. The king wants your armor shined before we continue into the city proper. Well be needing the emissary as well.


    That was a surprise, coming from the man who wouldnt even let my half-elf sister sit with us during the coronation.


    I dropped from the wagon, and a moment later, Maya landed beside me. She was still shivering, despite considerable effort to appear as if she wasnt.


    The servant stared at Mayas boots, now covered in mud, with an expression of abject despair. Several other servants picked up the slack, ferrying us to one of the noble carriages. Once inside, we were separated by a curtain as they fussed over our appearance, ensuring we looked perfect for whatever my father had planned.


    After they finished, we sat across from each other, waiting for the signal to join the king at the front.


    I was lost in thought.


    My grandfather once said that Whitefall was like the snow itself. Because after the first big storm of Winterscrest, the snow covers all. From the castle, down to the eastern trade yards, to the rankest alley in Topside, all cushioned and silent and preserved in white powder. Then, in the early morning, the first person wakes, eats his breakfast, then trudges his way to work at one of the smithery, or the butchers, or one of the many general goods stores. As his shoesdirty from the previous day track brown and black through the snow, he is utterly unaware that he is the first to sully the perfection that surrounds him.


    By midday, not a single spotless span of snow remains. The once pristine field that spread across the city is a heinous mix of dark colors, trampled beauty stained with our collective transgressions. A hideous mix of tainted slush and hardy ice. But eventually the winds blow in pregnant clouds, and the grimy streets are blanketed in peace and tranquility, erasing the history of days past, returning to perfection once more.


    In the bitterness of my previous life, I thought my grandfathers ramblings a commentary on humans. That simply by existing and going about our daily lives, we ruin everything we touch. That nothing will ever truly change.


    But thinking about it again, afterwell, everythingI wondered if instead of a message of nihilism, it was a message of hope. Of redemption. That the world is full of second chances.


    Because no matter how bad it gets, eventually, the snow falls once more.


    Id forgotten how it felt to look at my birthplace with anything other than hatred. With anticipation, hope and excitement. My sisters were waiting. My fatherdespite evidence of infighting and scheming against his own bannerlordssupported my struggle. And my mother. The mother who read to me every evening. The mother whose hand I held as she wasted to nothing, powerless to stop it. She was alive. Waiting. So close I could almost feel her. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    The caravan paused as countless wagons, and visitors queued in the long, spiraling line for entry, moved aside.


    A tear rolled down my cheek, followed by another. I swiped them away.


    Nails traced my spine. I glanced over at Maya, who was watching me with a stoic expression.


    Are you alright? she asked.


    Yes. I wiped my face again. Sorry. I just I fought so hard to get here.


    Lots of close calls, since our days in the cabin. Some closer than others.


    Gods yes. They just kept adding up.


    But youre here, now. You made it.


    Im I paused, realizing it for the first time. Im scared, Maya.


    With all youve faced, what could you possibly fear? Maya teased.


    I dont know. There are countless ways this could go wrong. Not to mention, the last time I was here, I was a shit person. The words came out in a stream. What if I fuck it uplike really fuck it up beyond repair, or slip back into old habits, or grow complacent now that Im home


    Stop. Close your eyes. I trailed off as Maya took my face in her hands. I listened silently, as she seemed to struggle against herself. Whatever my feelings about us, there are things of which Im certain. The first is that its impossible to know the future. Even with your power. Life is too complex, built upon layers of twists and turns, variables we cannot hope to define. Theres beauty in that. And tragedy. Fate pairs them, hand in hand.


    And the second? I asked, my panic dissipating.


    Open your eyes and look.


    I opened my eyes and gazed out at our surroundings. The people lined up for entry shot curious glances our way. There were so many of them. From wealthy traders and noble lords to commoners and peasants. And while most were human, some were not. I spotted a pair of wood elves, with a tiny child in tow. A few infernals dressed in robes. Even a few dwarves, eyeing the stonework of the city walls disparagingly.


    I barely recognize them. The people.


    Youre a catalyst, Maya said. I know it as well as I know the air that fills my lungs. From the moment we triumphed over Barion, I knew. That if I stayed with you, things would change. We accomplished feats that should have been impossible, even as a team. And no. It wasnt free. We both paid dearly for it. Which is whythis thing youve started? Its bigger than you. Youve thrown the world into chaos, undone the status quo. Now guide it home.


    I feel more like the fire brigade than a leader, I chuckled darkly. Like all Ive been doing is running around, putting out the fires my father made.


    In your defense, he set a lot of fires. Maya stared out the window.


    I studied her. The elegant golden dress the noble tailor provided, combined with the way her dark hair had grown out in an endearing mess of curls, only amplified the quiet, devil-may-care confidence she carried herself with. So long as Id known her, Maya was fastidiously practical, with little to no concept of vanity. She wore simple garments that were easy to clean. And seeing her present so well as a noble ladydespite knowing how damn capable she wasleft me at something of a loss.


    Why did you leave the sanctum? I had to know. The question had been gnawing at me since wed left the enclave, and it was still there, teething on my mind.


    Maya barked a laugh. I almost didnt.


    Tell me.


    Ium. Maya smiled. I had wings for a while.


    You didnt.


    Id tell you to ask the harpy I took them from, but Im fairly certain shes indisposed.


    Did they work?


    Maya nodded. To a point. The constant maintenance was hells on my mana, and I eventually tossed them because the mobility wasnt worth sacrificing the weight of better armor.


    I leaned back, resting my head on the seat. Gods be damned. I cant believe I missed seeing you with wings.


    Harpy wings, Cairn. Not exactly pretty to look at.


    Yesbutyou had wings!


    I know. Too bad you were busy, being dead and all, Maya said. The comment was barbed, but lacked venom. That was an improvement even if it was a small one.


    It took up far too much of my time, I said seriously.


    Mayas smile faded as she returned to the memory. Go down a layer, find the strongest thing there is, slay it, patch myself up, salvage anything useful and move on. It became a rhythm. I didnt have time to think, or dwell on what I was doing. But eventually, my campaign on the abyss came to a close.


    What happened?


    A hive of vivisectaurs.


    I sat up straight, my heart pounding. In the sanctum there was a saying, one I more or less followed until my departure: Never engage a vivisectaur in combat unless youre strong, experienced, and ready to lose a limb. They were part bear, part mantis, all speed and bladed arms without a single drop of mercy to show for it.


    I swallowed. And yet you survived to tell the tale.


    Maya clasped her hands, hiding a tremble Im not sure survived conveys what happened accurately. The chamber was deceptively designed, carefully hiding the hive until I was in plain view. What followed was entirely one-sided. They tore through my armor first. Targeted everything I grafted and ripped it free. And once the armor was gone, they shredded me. Really shredded me. If they hadnt been so dead-set on playing with their food, that would have been the end. But they left me with a single arm. Maya held her right hand out in front of her. And as they wandered close to take a bite, I felled themone, after another, after another. For all their cunning, they couldnt understand how I was slaying them.


    I forgot sometimes that Maya could kill with little more than a touch.


    Id been on the other side of it once, before we were close, during a bout of madness when Id intended to set Barions cabin on fire. Shed cuffed my neck, her hand glowing with life magic, and for a split-second before the darkness took me I felt the bones obliterate.


    That was all it took.


    I gritted my teeth. I shouldve been there.


    I shouldnt have been there, Maya answered quietly. And I knew it. As I pieced myself back together, and pushed my entrails back into their proper place, I knew it. As I reattached my limbs, forcing my blood production into overdrive to compensate for the blood loss, I knew it. But I was livid. Enraged that they interrupted my routine. Once Id rested, I butchered the vivisectaurs, arranging their parts side by side so theyd be easier to access once I started the grafting process. I told myself that itd be different this time. That once I was done, Id be unstoppable. But then I looked down She trailed off.


    I was almost afraid to ask. What did you see?


    My reflection, in a pool of blood. Maya shivered. Even though all my grafts were gone, and Id reassembled myself more or less like I was, I didnt look like me anymore. I looked like her. Thoths puppet. The person who murdered your sister. And I realized that by sequestering myself in the sanctum and depriving myself of a greater purpose, I had begun walking a path that led to the exact outcome my exile was meant to avoid. Maya fished a small amulet from beneath her neckline. It was filled with fragments of the silver-reflective medal shed described.


    You destroyed it.


    It was too useful for that. But turns out, Id almost drained it dry. It shattered, shortly after I finished healing myself after a scuffle on my way back to the Heart. Probably for the best. She eyed me, waiting for a reaction. When none came, she prompted me. Youre not talking much.


    I was still absorbing everything she had told me, all while trying to banish the image of her alone and mortally wounded while I gallivanted around, tracking the corruption. I needed to say something.


    We I stopped. Started again. Something Ive learned is that we all have a capacity for darkness. It varies depending on the person, and the power they hold. I have it too, same as everyone else. You just had the misfortune of seeing yours. Im glad you changed your mind about staying in the sanctum. And maybe its selfish to say, but Im thrilled to have you at my side. Whatever we are.


    Maya inclined her head, finally relaxing. Whatever we are.


    Somehow, I managed a wry smile.


    I think Id still love you even if you had four massive vivisector arms fused to your torso


    Maya snorted. They wouldnt have let me back into the enclave. And I wasnt going to stop at four.


    Though it definitely could have impeded certain activities, I mused.


    Were you always such a lech?


    I pressed a hand to my chest, scandalized. Like shopping. Or fitting through normal sized doors. Or absentmindedly scratching your nose.


    On that, we can agree. Maya tilted her head. She wasnt quite smiling, but she wasnt frowning either. For the first time since Id returned, there was warmth in her eyes.


    A knock at the dressing rooms door startled us both. Milord. Your father requests your presence at the head carriage.


    I stood, offering Maya my arm with exaggerated poise. Come, emissary. The people await.


    Maya rolled her eyes and took my arm. Her grip was loose, and there was still a careful, measured distance between us.


    But it was a start.

 Chapter 158: Whitefall XV

    Chapter 158: Whitefall XV


    Leaving the wagon and caravan behind, the servants ushered us into the main gates and through a side entrance. Before we were through, I glimpsed the major thoroughfare to the palace, lined with people and streamers of pennant flags.


    What are we doing? Maya whispered as we trailed through the stony corridors, following a servant.


    Making a proper entrance, I answered.


    While many things about my father had changed, this was more or less the same. Every victoryno matter how inconsequential or difficultwas celebrated with the same formula: a grand entry with the people in attendance, followed by a party, finished with a feast that usually wound down sometime the next mornings early hours.


    I trained for this but


    But?


    My feet are killing me., Maya admitted. I noticed, belatedly, that she was walking with an odd gait.


    I eyed the stone floor, finding it freshly swept, then her shoes. Alright, we have a narrow window. Take them off.


    I couldnt, Maya blinked at me, horrified. Its colder here than it was on the road. My feet will freeze!


    Trust me. Im an expert at maintaining appearances with minimal effort.


    The hose will dirty, Maya said, with a scandalized tone that made me feel like I was asking her to do something profane.


    Noble ladies shoes are terrible, and they give much less insulation than you think. Take them off, carry them, put them back on when your toes numb. Right as the numbness sets in. If you wait too long, youll have the misfortune of wearing ladies shoes with deadened feetwhich now that I think about it, might be an improvement.


    Not if my toes fall off, Maya said. But she followed my direction, and soon enough, the tension in her spine evaporated.


    Well? I prodded her.


    Dont gloat.


    We entered the staging room, a cramped area full of servants and a few of my fathers bannerlords. Maya continued in. I was frozen in the doorway, utterly shocked.


    King Gil hunched forward on a stool, squinting at his own reflection as a Panthanian man with sharp, contoured features dabbed at his face with a powder brush.


    Boy! He bellowed, startling me out of my stupor.


    Yes, father?


    I walked towards him with the careful steps of a man approaching a pegasus in the wild.


    My father chucked a thumb at the diminutive Panthanian. This gentleman seems to think the kingdom expects a blushing bride, rather than a conquering King.


    Here he goes, the Panthanian murmured, tutting disapprovingly.


    Watch your lip, my father growled.


    Too busy watching yours, my liege.


    I immediately cut in, for fear of the mans life. I-uh. Whats the problem?


    Ignoring the King, the Panthanian turned to me, proffering a small octagonal box. I flipped it open, finding a red powder within. Lych powder.


    Litch powder? I asked, not sure if Id heard correctly.


    As in the vibrant red constrictor snake native to my homeland, not the immortal undead.


    I didnt have nearly enough information about the man, but my father wouldnt accept that as an answer. Knows his way around cosmetics. Quick on his feet, charismatic. Didnt jump at the possibility of returning home, so at the very least hes not stupid. Thats about the extent of my read. Why?


    Hes engaged to your sister.


    My mouth went dry. Isnt Annette a little young?


    Not her. My father waved me off. Sera.


    Ah..


    Gil frowned in disapproval, and I tried not to snort at how intensely displeased he was with his own machinations. And though hes a pitiful swordsman, hes competent enough in matters of state. Their union will solidify our ties with Panthania


    I didnt know we had ties with Panthania.


    Keep pace, King Gil snapped. At the very least, with the two of them joined, there will be a woman in the relationship to ensure they look presentable.


    My fathers outdated views on gender notwithstanding, his solution had merit. Probably more than he realized. Seras attempts at courtship in my previous life left behind more mangled bodies than a war party. It went well enough until the unfortunate suitor jokinglyout of curiosity or insecurityheard enough of her reputation to ask for a spar. After which, Sera gave them exactly what they asked for, more often than not ending the courtship as a matter of course, sending them back to wherever they hailed from, nursing wounded pride.


    By pairing her with someone effectively her opposite, Seras competitive streak would be harmless. Nor would a Panthanian care about her mixed blood. Sera didnt hate dressing up, exactlyshe hated being told to. Especially by a suitor. And I had a feeling that her vehement resistance to presentation and attire wouldnt be so vehement if the suitor was actually helping her make that happen, rather than casting disparaging comments from afar.


    Of course, none of that would matter if Sera hated the idea.


    I shook my head, reminding myself that most, if not all of this was a distraction. That night at the coronation, though Thoth had wounded me heavily and expedited the process afterwards, Sera dealt the fateful blow.


    To avoid a similar inevitability, I had to first understand why. It was possible shed turned on me lateanother victim of Thoths persuasion. But I had a feeling it was more complicated than that.


    It always was.


    The illusion of safety was insidious. Fate itself, fickle and cruel. There were hundreds of threats in the capital and any of them could be my undoing. Difference was, most of those threats wouldnt kill me outright. And while that seemed initially like a positive change of pace, it carried a serious downside.


    I might only get one shot at this.


    My gaze landed on Thaddeus, lingering by the door. It looked like he was waiting for a suitable moment to slip away.


    Stay on him.


    And when he parts with the letter? Vogrin asked.


    I considered that. Go with your gut. But from my experience? Thaddeus never limits himself to one iron in the fire.


    I felt the telltale uncoiling in my chest as Vogrin departed.


    Brenden clapped his hands twice. The bustling of servants and nobles alike fell silent. Lets get this show on the road. Noble family and friends, please stay in your seats until you reach the palace and avoid halting the procession if possible. Everything is coordinated and timed out, and if you stop for mammoth-on-a-stick it couldpotentiallythrow all my hard work in the refuse pile.


    King Gil pushed past him, muttering something irritably. I followed him, Maya, Eckor and Melody trailing behind me. He gave us all a once-over, lingering on Eckor and Melody.


    At least try to look intimidating, King Gil said.


    Eckor straightened. Melody scowled, struggling to maintain the expression.


    Never mind. My father rolled his eyes and threw open the door, letting in a burst of cold air. We loaded into an open-topped carriage, pulled by four massive white horses. My father sat at the rear of the carriage on an elevated throne, alongside a hooded mage I didnt remember having seen on the road.


    Maya settled beside me on one of the horizontal cushioned benches, while Eckor and Melody sat across from us. As much as I wanted to forgo the parade and race to the palace, it was important to start this on the proper foot.


    That commitment lasted all of a minute, until I spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

 Chapter 159: Whitefall XVI

    Chapter 159: Whitefall XVI


    I saw her for a flicker in time. One so brief I wasnt confident I saw her at all. She was younger, to be certain, and the short-cropped brown hair didnt quite jell with my memories.


    My view was obscured as the carriage jostled forward, and I lost sight of her in the crowd.


    Everything alright? Maya asked.


    Yeah I searched between the faces almost frantically before I forced myself to relax. Thoughtthought I saw someone.


    Several attractive people dressed as commoners bearing basketstoo well put together to be actual commonerspushed forward from the crowd. My hand instinctively crept towards my sword, a reaction that left me feeling foolish as they withdrew fistfuls of blue and white paper and tossed them overhead.


    My fathers eyes bore down on me from his elevated position. Youve been at war for some time, boy. Dont bring it home with you.


    Yes, father.


    And for gods sakes, smile.


    I stared at him, wondering if somewhere between here and the road a changeling had taken his place.


    Despite his advice, King Gils lips didnt so much as quirk upwards. They know nothing about you, save what theyve nattered amongst themselves: a prince who has been missing for some time, caused great stirrings amongst the demi-humans, related to me. If your intention is to offer them hope for the future, it is best that we contrast our differences.


    That was insightful. Oddly self-aware, considering the source, but good advice nonetheless.


    I slipped into the charming, devil-may-care affect that was a staple of my previous life. It took more effort to maintain than I expected, the lazy grin that accompanied it now unfamiliar.


    Maya snorted.


    Eckor, meanwhile, seemed uncomfortable, transfixed by the crowd. Why do some look ready to mount and marry us, while the rest would be hard pressed to piss on us if we were on fire?


    I surveyed the crowd. Eckor was mostly correct, though I was realizing the mage was overly negative as a rule. Many of the people towards the frontthe confetti throwers and cheererslooked delighted, while the folk behind them were far more muted and reserved. From the firm-pressed lips and crossed arms, they werent angry, exactlyjust cautious. The elves, especially, were eying the barred cage behind us that held the drephin prisoner.


    Well. They pay most of the people up front. Either directly or indirectly, I finally said.


    Eckor goggled at me. One can be paid. To be happy?


    We are simple creatures, at our core, Maya chimed in. Seeing someone delighted at a situation makes us feel as if we should share that feeling, even if we normally wouldnt. Its propaganda, though mostly harmless.


    How would one go about signing up for such a service? Eckor asked, looking between the two of us.


    Um, Maya said.


    Your talents likely lay somewhere a little more lucrative, Eckor, I said. Soon, youll be up to your neck in botany research.


    Im always up to my neck, your grace, Eckor mumbled.


    It took some effort to stifle a laugh at the idea of Eckor standing out in the crowd, shouting out unenthusiastic hurrahs as he halfheartedly scattered confetti.


    Maya craned her neck, taking in the tall stone buildings. Its all so tall. A childlike smile played across her lips. And sprawling. Like it goes on forever.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the guards back away. Kieran finally relaxed a sliver as they departed, and looked down, shame and surprise warring across his face.


    I I didnt mean to strike you, your grace, he whispered.


    Dont sell yourself short. Youve got quite the arm.


    No one would listen to me. The guards dont give a shit and I I didnt know what else to do.


    Im listening. Tell me, I said.


    Kieran peered up at me, cautious. When I said nothing else, he spoke. My wife, Rania, disappeared around a month ago. She escorted a logging party, guiding them through the less dangerous sections of the Everwood. They returned a week later without her. And she was not the first.


    That was concerning. Especially the last part.


    You reported it? I asked.


    Yes. But the guards believe the logging partys account, that my wife fell victim to monsters and perished in the Everwood, despite my argument to the contrary.


    I knew from experience that elves sometimes magically tethered their souls to loved ones to ensure they could find each other in the afterlife. The infernals had a similar practice, one Id experienced personally, though my impression was that the infernals mingling of souls represented a far less eternal commitment. My bond with Maya didnt give me much information on her status, for one, though I suspected it factored into her ability to keep her memories when I talked of the future.


    I whispered. Do you know definitively that Ranias alive? Are your souls tethered?


    Kieran visibly startled. How did youYes. Its faint, but I can feel her. She has not yet passed from this plane.


    I glanced back at the carriage, still meandering down the road. GoodIm a little busy at the moment, but is there a place I can find you later?


    Youre going to help me yourself? Kieran asked in disbelief.


    I dont see why not.


    It wasnt like I was busy. And if he was correct that someone was routinely picking off non-humans in Whitefall, that was entirely my business.


    Kieran nodded, his mouth firming, eyes determined. Okay. Not how I expected this to go, but my thanks. I tend the Rusted Spigot. Can find me there, most nights.


    Naturally I knew it, as it was a tavern in Whitefall. As far as taverns went it was a decent one on the southern edge of Topside, a safe bet for common folk, nobles with machinations of slumming it, and anyone looking to blend in.


    I slapped his shoulder, jostling the basket of rocks. Perfect. Ill be by tomorrow. You can give me the details over an ale, yes?


    Kieran managed a nod. I left him standing there, mouth slightly open, basket held limply in his hand. And maybe it was my imagination, but the cautious faces that surrounded us looked slightly more friendly than before.


    Save one.


    So it was her.


    I stopped mid-stride. It was hard to breathe. Hard to think. She was so much smaller than before. But that cold, analytical gaze filtered through light blue eyes was exactly the same.


    Annette curtsied perfectly. Forgive the sleight, my prince. Ive been hearing stories about you for some time. We were supposed to wait in the courtyard. But when they told me you were coming, I was curious what kind of person you


    My sister shrieked as I grabbed her waist and hoisted her into the air.

 Chapter 160: Whitefall XVII

    Chapter 160: Whitefall XVII


    Youre a fool. Annettes face was the very picture of scorn, her cheeks flaming red.


    We had caught back up to the carriage quickly, and now Annette stood awkwardly in the center, gripping the hem of her silver skirts tightly.


    Does it help that Im a fool who is delightedeven deliriously happyto see you? I tried.


    I think not, Annette said.


    Melody rose, sweeping the skirts of her dress aside. Take my seat, princess


    Shell do no such thing, King Gil growled. He leaned forward, casting a shadow over Melody and Maya.


    Everyone froze. Too late, I realized this was a mistake. Hed been so damned agreeable since we reunited that I hadnt thought twice about adding one more person to our retinue.


    Father I started.


    Was it her hunters that turned the tide? Her magic that pierced the barrier? Did she heal our wounded, or come back from the bloody hells? King Gil glared at Melody.


    The noblewoman unfroze and settled back down slowly. Annette gazed at the carriage floor, her mouth set in an even line.


    King Gil leveled an icy gaze at Annette. She may stand, or sit elsewhere, or be crushed beneath the wheels of the carriage for all I care. Such is the fate of many children incapable of obedience. But you will not give her your seats.


    The unfairness of his wordsnot to mention, flagrant hypocrisywasnt lost on me. I wasnt exactly the pinnacle of obedience either, yet there was an upcoming banquet in my honor. I wanted to defy him. But it was never so simple, with my father. From his reaction, he already intended to punish Annette, though for the time being the punishment would probably be small, indirect.


    If I confronted him, that small punishment was likely to escalate. It was his way.


    May I turn, Father? Annette asked, head still lowered in deference.


    Please. Spare me your wilted face. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Annette turned, arms clasped behind her back. Her cheeks were still flushed, but she stood ramrod-straight, her spine fully elongated, a stoic expression on her lips.


    Though I was still cringing at the circumstances that brought us together, I couldnt help but marvel at her poise.


    A part of me had always found Annette stuffy and unapproachable before.


    Id taken her frigid demeanor as judgment.


    But now that I had a wider perspective, one divorced from the petty sibling rivalry that plagued our childhood, I felt nothing but respect. Even as she endured our fathers ire, my sister was the very picture of nobility, possessing infinitely more dignity than I could have aspired to at her age. And it had nothing to do with her blood, or line, or similar mindless notions of heritage. It was a learned skill, and one Annette had honed to the fullest.


    I struggled, trying to come up with a way to recover, something to say to her as the carriage wound through the city streets.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maya was shaking. She looked at war with herself, eyes constantly flicking to the princess, then away. I placed a hand on her back and the shaking stilled.


    Surprising everyone, it was Eckor who broke the silence. UhI like your dress, princess.


    As do I, Melody chimed in, jumping on the break in the silence. Is it one of ours?


    Annette gave them both an appreciative nod. My thanks. Sadly, no, Lady Vasemoux. It would be criminal to dirty the noble tailors excellent work in the open streets.


    Melody preened at the praise.


    Annette nodded gravely, her eyes predatory. My scholastic duties take up much of my day, and my tutors will be displeased if I shirk them.


    Of course, Maya said.


    However, diplomats lacking packed schedules are a rarity in Whitefall. If my time spent with you was educational, it would be easier to justify. Would you be willing to teach me about your culture during our time together?


    Mayas eyes widened. I would. But fair warning, Im not much of a historian.


    Annette shook her head. Thats no bother. Im looking for broader insights. We have few texts on the infernals and the enclave itself, most of them full of falsehoods and fairytales. Id like to rectify their shortcomings, separate fact from fiction.


    With that said, Annette reached out a hand.


    Maya hesitated. But only for a moment before she responded in kind.


    Spoken and sealed, Annette said, her lips pulling upwards ever so slightly at the edges in an almost-smile.


    The carriage jostled to a halt to trumpeting fanfare, and Annette immediately descended the carpeted steps of the loading platform and scampered away.


    Maya leaned towards me and whispered. Is she always so


    Transactional?


    I nodded. All three of us were for most of our childhoods. Favors were our currency. We were always looking for a leg up, searching for an advantage, anything that let us get ahead. By the time we were old enough to understand how foolish that was, it was too late to form any genuine bond between us.


    It would be different this time.


    ***


    The main halls gates swung open. I was greeted with the sight of a thousand nobles crowded up on either side of the long tongue of violet carpet that led all the way from the entrance to the stairs leading up to the dais. Annette had taken her place in line on my fathers side.


    Serastill absurdly tall and dressed in Crimson Brand robes, stood towered behind her, peering towards the gates in suspicion. The queens throne was obscured, any trace of her hidden behind the arch-bishops ridiculous hat.


    Behold! The victorious King, the arch-bishop pronounced.


    The nobles filled the chamber with polite applause, though I noted a few looks of worry and anger among them.


    My father strode down the carpet and filled the empty throne.


    And with him, the prodigal son. Prince Cairn has finally returned to Whitefall. Give praise to Elphion!


    Again, the polite applause of gloved hands filled the chamber as all eyes turned to me.


    The night of the coronation replayed in my mind, complete with the pyre of green flame Id so callously thrown my crown into. Being here felt like living that day in reverse. With one crucial difference.


    My legs wouldnt move.


    Cairn, Maya whispered. She and the others were standing behind me, where theyd be called up after my entrance. Theyre waiting.


    The paralysis broke. I took a step. Another. And another. Then, I was just short of running, the once infinite distance that separated me from those Id lost suddenly measurable and shrinking by the moment.


    My mother was alive.


    And in a matter of seconds, I would see her again.

 Chapter 161: Whitefall XVIII

    Chapter 161: Whitefall XVIII


    I made it.


    Over halfway there. There was a part of me that still couldnt believe this was actually happening, that Id survived. That the castleand everyone in itwas alive and well.


    I actually made it.


    My surroundings were a blur. The nobles voices were a low buzz. Probably gossiping amongst themselves about how I lacked decorum. Yet they were the furthest thing from my mind.


    Its been a long time since Ive seen her. What if shes different? What if shes angry? Anything could happen. What if the stress of my absence aggravated her illness, and its ahead of schedule, what if what if what if


    I ignored the voice in my head and crested the stairs two at a time, heart racing, throat tight. Gave Annette a small wave and nodded to Sera beside her. Bowed to my father. Held it for the bare minimum of what was proper.


    My, how youve grown.


    Her voice was music. Radiant, lively notes of a melody Id so desperately wished to hear again. Even if it was only once, even if it was faint and distant, carried to me by an errant wind.


    It thrust a knife straight through me.


    Im sorry, mother. The words tore out.


    Sure, she gets an apology right out the gate, King Gil muttered.


    Im sorry I threw away everything you taught me out of anger and bitterness. Im sorry that I was so consumed by what I lost I couldnt bring myself to follow your guidance. Im sorry that I stood by, idle, while you wasted to nothing. Im sorry


    Will you not look at me, child?


    I straightened from my bow and looked.


    Once, long ago, I wondered if my memory of her was warped. Subtly altered by the laments of bards and memorials of crafters, wrinkles smoothed into something inauthentic by the waves of time and lapses of my sentimentality. That perhaps, the mother I remembered was a construction of grief and nostalgia, while the reality was something vastly different.


    Yet, there she was.


    Exactly as I remembered.


    A platinum crown crested her forehead, framing long cascades of golden hair, luminescent and full, rather than the thin dull yellow that plagued her final year. High steel jeweled rings decorated her fingers. Her back was straight and relaxed, free of the hunch from when she lost the strength to raise her own head. She still smiled with her eyes, soft crows feet crinkling gently, framing vibrant sapphire.


    There you are.


    Here I am, I murmured. I bowed, then took her proffered hand and pressed my lips to her knuckles, the scent of her rose-accented perfume stirring up countless memories.


    Somethings terribly wrong, my love. Queen Elaria glanced at the king in amusement. I think our son might be more scared of me than you.


    King Gil gave me a sidelong glance. You might be right. He hasnt even tried to punch you in the face yet.


    My mother laughed. It was a merry sound, like tinkling bells. When neither of us followed, she glanced between us. Her lips quirked. Is that so? You struck your father?


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    Queen Elaria looked to the King. Did you?


    I reached out to the tiny draft of air circulating through the hall, and infused it with my words, guiding it around her head to her opposite ear. Because I missed you.


    Sera jumped, her eyes going wide. HowI thought your only element was devil fire. Was that sound? Is sound even an element?


    I chuckled, remembering a time not so long ago Id asked exactly the same thing.


    Air. I paused mid-sentence. Maya crossed the daispossibly the first infernal to ever do soand was now bowing to the queen. I could make out my mothers quiet words of thanks. Her attendant breached protocol and shook Mayas hand excitedly, talking to her as if they were longtime friends.


    Now that I thought about it, my mother rarely had an attendant. He had to be the court physician. But Maya had revealed her identity as the physicians anonymous liaison to my father less than a week ago. Which meant word of that encounter had somehow outpaced us, arriving at the capital long before. That in and of itself wasnt necessarily suspicious. While I hadnt noticed any couriers or messenger birds departing from the group, there had been a full day. It did, however, highlight one thing that hadnt changed.


    In Whitefall, rumors spread like wildfire.


    Beside me, Seras face was screwed up like shed smelled something foul. I thought air was only good for propelling ships and pushing people around.


    The enclave teaches a unique method of casting, called weaving. It involves trading the raw power of elemental magic


    Sera wrinkled her nose.


    for accuracy, utility, and flexibility. I rotated my voice around her head so she heard it in one ear, then the other.


    Raw power trumps all, Sera said flatly.


    But she didnt look certain. My demonstration had unsettled her, defused at least some of her hostility. I took a risk.


    When it comes to magic, variety is the spice of life and the enemy of death, dear sister. To be fair, Im far from an expert but I could teach you the foundations. If you like.


    Sera slowly looked over. Youd do that? Truly, my liege, your graciousness is boundless.


    Okay. Clearly, we werent there yet. Itd been a joint gambit: If it succeeded, it meant helping Sera refine her monstrous potential and gaining a sparring partner, someone to keep me sharp during my downtime at the castle. But Sera seemed to have no intention of giving me an in.


    Just tell me if you change your mind.


    Choke on a cock, Cairn.


    That depends entirely on how much I drink at the banquet.


    Sera stared at me, aghast.


    You brought cocks into it, I pointed out.


    You idiots are not being nearly as quiet as you think, Annette hissed, peeking out from behind Sera. And what do chickens have to do with any of this?


    I barely stifled a laugh. Seras mouth twitched, and I could tell she was struggling to keep her frown from transforming into a smile. The mirth shifted to wonder as my mother stood and, to the shock of the entire court, embraced Maya.


    The scene gave me hope. Id transformed since I was here last, but Whitefall itself was nigh unrecognizable. Non-humans filled the streets. The queen was alive. Maybe she was the missing piece in more ways than Id accounted for. She couldnt domesticate my father completelythere wasnt a person alive who couldbut there was no question she brought out his better qualities and tempered his worst, with our family. If he continued heeding my counsel on matters of war, as he had on our journey home, perhaps the two of us could keep him in check.


    Id seen getting dragged back to the capital as a setback at best, an avenue for complete and utter disaster at worst, but perhaps it wasnt.


    Maybe, for once, everything was going to be okay.

 Chapter 162: Lillian I

    Chapter 162: Lillian I


    The cat was dead.


    Lillian crouched, careful to keep her skirts clear of the gutter as she placed the sleeve of milk aside and leaned down to get a better look. A slow sadness washed over her as she removed a canvas glove and pressed her fingers to the creatures neck, finding nothing but damp cold.


    Damn this cold. Lillian dropped her hand, careful to keep it away from her clothes and glove.


    If it was sick, she could have cured it. She had an entire stock at her fingertips at the apothecary. While many didnt work on animals, a few did.


    But it was too late.


    Her father told her, once, that death was the ultimate malady. One that would take all of them in the end. And as much as she disliked dwelling on such morbid notions, it was hard not to on days like today.


    Shed tried her best to keep it alive, but she knew when she found it curled up next to the fire pit that its chances were low. Practically non-existent. A lame rear leg severely hampered its mobility and prospects of finding a shielded and elevated place to sleep as many strays in the city did. Safe from guards and other animals shielded from the frigid wind.


    Guntherher fatherhad forbidden her from bringing it inside.


    Cats are filthy, sweetheart. They aint like the dogs. Dogs are different. With dogs, you give em a place to sleep, food, they stay put. Cats though. Soons you open a door for longer than a second, theyre gone. Theres no takin the city out of em. Eventually shell come back, carrying gods know what, and shell want in. Then do it all over again the next day. Cant rightly run an apothecary with disease vectors runnin around, can we?


    He might have softened if she begged. Wore him down. Shed done it before. The runt- hunting hounds that graciously warmed her feet at night were permanent tenants in the apothecary thanks to putting her foot down.


    But that was years ago, before her official apprenticeship. Before she understood how quickly and brutally sickness could tear through a community, and how the sickmany of whom were likely to visit an apothecarywere far more susceptible to catching other illnesses when their natural defenses were compromised.


    So in the end, Lillian made the call. She built the cat a nest off to the side of the apothecary, protected and insulated it from the wind with wooden scraps, gave it water laced with supplements to fortify its strength, fed it with whatever was left on her plate after meals, and prayed for Elphions mercy in the hazy twilight between wake and sleep.


    From that first night weeks ago shed told herself that she was making the correct decision. The responsible, adult decision.


    She was decidedly less confident now.


    Mew.


    Lillian blinked, staring at the cat. The outline of snow surrounding it was undisturbed. It hadnt moved. Had she imagined


    Mew. More insistent this time. Muffled. As if, it instead of coming from the creatures mouth, it was coming from beneath the animal. Acting quickly, Lillian reached beneath the cats spine and shifted it up and to the side. Something sharp caught her palm, and she yanked her hand free.


    A single bead of blood welled from a cut so small it was almost invisible. She stared at it, then down.


    Two kittenstheir eyes blue in infancy, mewled miserably at their uncovered state. They were hours old and could barely stand, every attempt to do so an abject failure. One light gray with dark patches, one dark with white feet. From a look, she knew it was the dark one that had scored her, its mouth taut and wide, displaying pink gums that had yet to develop teeth.


    Arent you a feisty one? She poked at it. The dark kitten swatted at her finger and tumbled over. Lillian couldnt help but smile.


    Shed failed their mother. But as Gunther frequently said, being an apothecary wasnt about dwelling on past failures. It was about doing what you can, when you can.


    ***


    Cant do it. Old man Rin stared at the basket on the counter. Shed placed it there to draw his eye, but as soon as the two kittens were inside, swaddled in blankets, theyd fallen asleep. Shed been hoping to ply him in trade.


    After that, she awkwardly drew a small deck of repurposed playing cards and tested his acuity. It wasnt the quickest shed seen, but he didnt get any wrong. And he was older, bordering on forty. As the saying went, Topside aged a person. Forty in Topside might as well have been eighty anywhere else.


    Then, with no small anxiety, pushing the rag against her mouth and nose so hard it almost hurt, she asked him to open his mouth. It always started in the throat. She needed to see his tonsils. This was the best way to make a ruling and unfortunately, the most dangerous part. If it was advanced, his throat coated in gray, a thousand rags filtering the surrounding air wouldnt make a single lick of difference.


    She pressed his tongue down with an iron spatula, and squinted.


    Nothing but pink and red.


    Lillian smiled, withdrawing the implement and stepping down from the stool. Theres some mucus and irritation. Otherwise, youre all clear. Probably just a cold.


    Rin breathed a sigh of relief, his body seeming to deflate as he shed tension and anxiety that must have houndedplagued him for quite some time. Thanks, lass.


    Of course.


    They emerged from the storeroom and Rin glanced towards the line of ovens, each tended by a bakers assistant. Big order from the cCastle for a banquet tonight. Wasnt sure what Id do if it compromised the goods.


    Lillian cocked her head. She hadnt heard about that, but she didnt exactly have her ear to the ground. What are they celebrating?


    Rin snorted. Always somethin. Give a noble an excuse to drink and hell drink. Might be the only thing we got in common.


    I see.


    She didnt. Not really. There was some truth tohe Rins words, but if the banquet was big enough that the bakeries in larger districts were so overloaded with orders that they were shopping around Ttopside, it meant there was a massive turnout. And hopefully, plenty of nobles searching for something to soothe their hangovers.


    They returned to the front of the store. Old Man Rin paused at the basket, lifting the blanket and revealing a stirring kitten, placing it down again. Then he retrieved a fresh loaf of bread from beneath the counter and handed it to her. Instead of a gift, it felt like an expression of regret.


    Much as I appreciate you and yours, doing what you do. Im sorry. I cant help you,. hHe said with an air of finality.


    Lillian chewed her lip. There was one last thing she could try. What you said, about not being able to afford the alchemists potions. What if you didnt have to?


    Not sure what youre getting at, Rin said.


    The spike of anxiety from earlier returned, for an entirely different reason.


    Im working on something,. Lillian began. One of Gunthers old projects. He dropped it a long time ago, but there have been advancements since, and going through his notes, I think it has promise. Could make the plague a thing of the past. If you caught it, you wouldnt need gold slivers no one has for expensive potions no one can afford. Just a daily regimen of medicine. Affordable medicine.


    For how long?


    Two weeks at most. Probably only ten days, but two weeks to be certain.


    You looking for an investment?


    Lillian pushed the basket forward. That, and someone to take these little ones off my hands. They wont be this small for long. Its easy to care for them. With careful instruction, even a child could do it she emphasized that point, hoping Rin would seize on the fact that he could pass off the kittens to his children, the actual fostering requiring little effort on his part. and as much as Id like to, much of the work I need to accomplish in the coming days is time- sensitive.


    I wont lie. It would be nice to give the rats a run for their money for a change and to finally rest easy about that gods- damned blight. Rin drummed his fingers on the counter. Im listenin.

 Chapter 163: Whitefall XIX

    Chapter 163: Whitefall XIX


    I endured an endless litany of well-wishing, brown-nosing, and curious questions. All throughout, the table at the center of the banquet hall beckoned. I salivated, staring at the spread.


    My father had pulled out all the stops. The seemingly endless table was overflowing with every fruit, meat, and wine imaginable. Maybe Id start with the honeyed ham, or a turkey leg, or the gods-damned table itself if it meant I could finally eat. Stuff myself with splinters of wood soaked in grease from a hundred felled animals.


    After years in the sanctum, even the road rations we ate in transit felt decadent. This was something else. This was like waking from a terrible dream and realizing everything was not only alright, it was fantastic.


    And then realizing that youre glued to the bed.


    Are they as savage as the stories? A man Id never seen before and probably never would again asked in complete seriousness. His underbite was large enough to serve food on.


    The birds? I asked, utterly entranced by a glistening tray of turkey.


    WhatNo. He looked around conspiratorially and leaned in to whisper. The infernals.


    Worse, I whispered in his ear. Many of them are academics.


    Aca demics, he repeated, as if he was trying out the word for the first time.


    Others wake up in the morning and go to bed in the evening.


    Um.


    And dont tell anyone I told you this I lowered my voice further for dramatic effect. But some of them even have children.


    He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Then seemed to abandon further comment altogether.


    I left the man behind, thoroughly confused, making slow progress to the table before another young noble stopped me to chatter about the state of the kingdom. Despite every instinct to blow her off and slip by, I listened. Playing politics wasnt my preferred cup of tea, but blowing them off and following my every whim hadnt exactly worked out for me the first time around.


    Once we parted, I made it another three steps before a familiar voice stopped me.


    You get any more trussed up, they oughta stick an apple in your mouth and put you on a table with the rest.


    I spun.


    Cephur grinned. His face and appearance were more or less how I remembered, though there were a few more streaks of white scattered throughout his hair, and he wore a resplendent cerulean tabard that gave his hardened appearance a distinguished flare. He held two plates in his hands, one nearly empty, one stacked with meat.


    Beside him, Tamara openly smiled. Her once wild and unruly hair was arranged in a neat bun that cleverly hid the points of her ears.


    Told you, Tamara stage-whispered to Cephur. See that stupefied look? He doesnt remember us.


    I could live a thousand lives without forgetting either of you. Any annoyance at the interruption vanished entirely, and I strode forward, nearly knocking the plates from Cephurs hands and wrapped them both in an embrace.


    Such a softie, Tamara said.


    Soft? Soft what? You feel those damn arms? Boys solid as a rock, Cephur grunted.


    I stepped back, pushing my hair out of my face. Elphion, where did we even start? I spotted a pair of matching rings on their fingers. You got married?


    Cephur maneuvered a plate around Tamara and used his forearm to pull her close. Yep.


    That was the idea, Tamara said.


    Congratulations I You both look great, I said, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Seeing them again filled me with nothing but warmth. They both took such a gigantic risk on me when there was almost no reason to do so. Gambled. And I was delighted to see it paid off.


    Cephur nodded. Commandin a regiment is a pretty lucrative position. Maybe thats obvious, but I didnt know how much. More than a few steps up on the pay scale, you know.


    Tamara sighed, giving her husband a small push. One promotion and writ of nobility was all it took to turn him into a gold-hoarding goblin.


    Id prefer a dragon analogy, myself. Since they also waylay beautiful women from time to time.


    Stop. Tamara rolled her eyes and kissed him on the cheek.


    The regiment. Id almost forgotten.


    In my first life, my father tasked me with putting together a regiment of soldiers, all of whom would answer to me directly. Being young and stupid, Id twiddled my thumbs until the deadline, and he eventually threw up his hands and abandoned the idea entirely.


    Not long after my reawakening Id charged Cephur with putting it together, writ of nobility contingent on his aid. Read latest chapters at novelhall.com Only


    Best part of getting paid? Cephur stuck the fully stacked plate out to me with a grin. Eatin better.


    Cephur caught Maya up. All the while, my mind raced, looking for things I could have done differently, coming up dry. If Id returned to Whitefall after the initial reset, my father wouldnt have listened to a damned thing I said. It would have been years before I could strike out on my own, far too much time to leave Thoth to her own devices.


    When Cephurs attention returned to me, he radiated pity. None of this diminishes what you accomplished.


    It does if it kills us, I said darkly. How do we fix it?


    Cephur leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers. We sit tight for now. Plan. I suspect things will be quiet for a while, now that youre back. Theyre waiting to see how it all shakes out.


    But if theres a formalized alliance between Whitefall and the infernals before tensions deescalate Tamara trailed off.


    It will be open war, Maya finished.


    The last thing we need, with Thoth on the horizon. I squeezed the table until a loud crack startled all four of us.


    Just focus on shoring up the alliances you can, Cephur reiterated. Spend some time training with the regiment. Reconnect with your family. Let Whitefall see you as a person they can get behind. Relax. Ill keep you in the loop.


    Relax. Do I even know how to relax, anymore?


    Even if I didnt, I knew how to recenter. I let the frustration and anger go, sinking into the state of tranquility used to increase the speed of mana generation.


    Okay. I looked to Tamara. Speaking of family, any insight on Sera? She came at me pretty hard right off the iron. We werent exactly friends when I left, but we werent outright hostile.


    Tamara nodded thoughtfully. Im not sure Sera has or wants friends. But were friendly enough that shes talked a little about her situation. Vented, mostly. At first, they were prepping her for succession. With you out of pocket, many of the duties and learning she had shirked were no longer so easy to evade. She may have been exaggerating, but Ill be honest. It sounded like the hells.


    And then I made my triumphant return, making all that unpleasantness totally unnecessary. I filled in the blanks.


    Poor porcupine had to wear a dress, Cephur sneered.


    Tamara sighed. Youre too hard on her.


    I aint.


    You are.


    Id like to hear your opinion as well, Cephur. Maya inserted herself into the argument smoothly. Just to get an alternate perspective.


    Cephur put his goblet down. Havent talked to her much. Mostly just what Ive heard from this one.


    The married couple shared another look, and finally, Tamara relented, nodding her assent.


    Can I be blunt? Cephur asked.


    Please, I said.


    I think Princess Sera got a little too used to being queen shit of a tiny pond. He continued, even as Tamara rolled her eyes. The only member of the royal family with magical talent. Thats gone. And now, shes still every bit the outcast she used to be, with none of the benefit. And shes too proud to accept it, so whats the alternative? Blamin you.


    Im not sure I know how to mend that gap, I admitted.


    You dont. Treat her the same as any noble who gets above their station, any sheep that breaks from the herd. You break her.


    Seras pride is fragile. More now than ever. Tamara slapped her palms on the table, glaring daggers at Cephur. If he does thatbaits her into a spar and muscles her down, or rubs her face in it some otherhell lose her. Permanently.


    And if he dont, shell never accept that hes the real deal, not some two-sliver rat thief.


    I glanced between them. You two have a lot of faith in my abilities, considering how we havent seen each other in years.


    Cephur snorted into his goblet while Tamara looked away. Pardon the frankness, my liege, but you killed a revenant, set a trap for a mage stronger than all of us put together and put him down yourself, started building an army, and killed a handful of marauders all while you were barely out of diapers. And that was all before you went to the enclave. I have a sneaking suspicion you could handle your sister now, if it came to that.


    As kind as his words were, I didnt want it to come to that.


    And I had a feeling that neither of them were wrong. Breaking Sera would only push her away. And treating her with kid gloves would only reinforce her image of me as some cowardly thief.


    I stood up, suddenly exhausted. My thanks to you both. Youve both given me a lot to think about.


    Cephur held up a finger. One last thing. That kid you were lookin for? I found him.


    Hmm? What kid?


    Alten.

 Chapter 164: Whitefall XX

    Chapter 164: Whitefall XX


    Kick his fuckin head in!


    Id heard whispers of places like this scattered throughout Topside.


    They called them pits. Small, underground brawling rings where disgruntled men and women tested themselves against each other. Under my fathers reign, it was one of many outlets the common folk used to vent their frustrations. But Id never expected to find Alten in a place like this. Hed struck me as fiercely loyal and refined. And there was a world of difference between that person and the unrefined edge of this one.


    The man Cephur assured me was Alten lifted his leg and stomped downward, sending a gray-skinned orc that must have outweighed him by half into a violent nothingness. Despite the vicious atmosphere, the finishing blow was measuredenough force to end the fight without killing the man or inflicting permanent damage. Sweat and blood dappled his bare chest as he caught his breath, perspiration soaking his dark hair. He glared out at the audience as if daring someone to step forward, golden eyes glittering dangerously. Just looking at him, you wouldnt know it was his third victory of the night. And each one had been just as definitive.


    Are you sure we wont be missed? Maya asked for the second time in as many hours.


    Itll go on until the early morning. Well be back before anyone important notices, I said, though it wasnt entirely accurate. Most nobles at the banquet were too dull or drunk to notice, but Thaddeus men had been keeping pace from the moment I slipped out of the main hall. The idea of them reporting our movements to my fatherand of him trying to make sense of them amid a morning hangoverwas amusing to no end.


    Very well.


    Cephur bobbed in his seat, sick with drink, eyes fixed on the ceiling. How are you not completely out of sorts? He asked. I was watchin. You should be more in your cups than I am.


    Drunkenness in the wake of victory was expected in Whitefall. The art of drinking less while appearing to gorge oneself was the reverse of drinking more when one was expected to be sobersomething I had no small experience with. To anyone who spared more than a cursory glance, it would appear as if I was the life of the party, when in reality, the very specific wine Id been consuming en masse was barely more alcoholic than a freshly squeezed grape.


    Alten twitched, as if hed heard something he didnt like. He scanned the crowd until his gaze settled on Cephur. Slowly, as matter-of-factly as if he was counting off on his fingers and ending with one, Alten flipped Cephur the raven.


    Why?


    At first I thought it was our apparel. But we werent the only folk of noble stock in the crowd. Like us, there were a few other nobles gathered around the fringes seated as far from action as possible, slumming Topside for entertainment. I imagined on a normal day, one without a massive banquet with many of Whitefalls nobility in attendance, there were far more.


    Cephur quickly provided the answer. Instead of taking the insult in stride, he stuck his fist out and returned the gesture. Fuck you too, you daft prick!


    Alten held his arms wide and called over the ascending rows of people watching the festivities on flat, backless benches. Got one more in me, old man. Come down here if youre tired of living. Elphions warm embrace awaits.


    Cephur nearly rushed forward. Would have, if I hadnt caught him and pushed him back down.


    Easy, I said. Guessing recruitment didnt work out?


    Cephur shook his head, mouth tight. Real piece of work, that one.


    Such a wonderful dog. Alten applauded. Bowing at the whims of that pretty-boy master, hoping for table scraps. Cephurs face turned a brighter shade of red. Wouldnt want to come down into the ring and make a fool out of yourself like last time, in front of that woman of yours.


    Last time? Was I understanding correctly? Alten goaded Cephur into a brawl and won? If it was true, it made sense why Cephur insisted Tamara stay at the banquet.


    Cephur snarled and nearly tore himself free before I hissed for him to stop. Think. If you go down there and lose, it only strengthens his position. If you win, it looks like your noble master sicced an experienced officer on a commoner to defend his honor.


    Maya nodded agreement. Neither outcome serves our purposes.


    With an angry grunt, Cephur pulled himself free and stood there, almost vibrating from rage. Hes never lost. And it shows. The boy needs to be knocked down a peg.


    From the whispers and gazes directed our way, we were drawing more attention than I was comfortable with. Alten differed from what Id expected, and if he was anyone else, I would have cut my losses. But I couldnt forget the unflinching loyalty hed shown in the dire last hours of my first life, nor the promise Id made to find him again.


    My smile slipped as we faced off. I needed to at least try to give him an out. Its a night of celebration, and my ears are tired from all manner of talk. Surely I heard wrong.


    Alten made a harsh sound in the back of his throat and leaned forward, spitting a wad of red onto the ground. People have been spinning yarns in your absence. Whispering how the kings son is a mythical prodigy, gone to learn magic and swordplay among the demis. All the threads of a legend in the making. But that couldnt be more off. I bet youre just another pompous bastard who thinks hes better than the rest of us who took a few years touring the exotic flavors. His eyes flicked to Maya. Even brought a prize back with you.


    With a sigh, I dropped the drunk act. Unbuttoned my shirt and removed it, placing it gently atop my coat on the bench. At first I thought it was my scars that drew the gasps and murmurs, but it was more likely the manifested chitin on my arm and my inscriptions.


    In the end, Alten wouldnt get what he wanted. But Cephur would.


    The ranger caught my arm before I turned and whispered, Hes ambidextrous. Will favor one side for most of the scrap, and when you think youre dialed in, shift to the other.


    I clapped Cephur on the shoulder, then descended.


    People gave a wide berth as I strolled down the stairs, stretching my arms and shoulders, and dropped into the pit ending up less than a span from Alten. In the background, bookmakers were already scurrying among the crowd watching in rapt attention, taking bets.


    I lowered my voice so only he could hear me. This is your last chance to back down before things get unpleasant. Some of my abilities are powerful and difficult to control. Its possible you wont get out of this unscathed.


    Whered you get that arm? He was gawking at it.


    This? I pointed to it. Demon cut it off. I demanded he give me one in return. Only seemed fair.


    Demons, Alten said slowly. Right.


    We dont have to do this. We can go to the bar, have a drink, and you can tell me what ails you. I gestured to the crowd. Theyll assume we settled our differences.


    Alten faltered at the mention of his troubles, then assumed a martial stance, one foot sliding back for balance, fists raised. Enough stalling.


    Ignoring the jibe, I looked back to Cephur and Maya and assumed a regal bearing. Emissary Maya.


    Recognizing that she was being called in an official capacity, Maya gracefully rose and kept her face inscrutable. Yes, my prince?


    I gestured to Alten. Our friend heres had a long night. This will be, whathis third, fourth match of the evening? Given that Im completely fresh, would you do us the honor of healing him?


    Face still framed by his guarding fists, Alten scowled. I dont need your benevolence.


    But he looked me up and down again, and his conviction wavered.


    This isnt about you. I pointed to the crowd. Its about them. Youve thrown out plenty of wild accusations this evening, but youre not the only one thinking along those lines. Difference between you and them is that youre ballsy enough to say it out loud. Therefore, I dont want to give them any reason to doubt what theyre about to see.


    So. You intend to make an example of me Alten winced as Maya crouched at the edge of the pit and jabbed her staff into his back, pumping life magic into him. His bruises faded and his cuts closed.


    What I intend is a bit of sport. If I win, youll listen to my proposition and consider it with an open mind.


    Uh-huh. And whats in it for me? Alten countered. When youre facedown in the dirt with broken bones and a shattered ego. What do I get?


    I grinned. Whatever the hells you want.

 Chapter 165: Whitefall XXI

    Chapter 165: Whitefall XXI


    A purse of ten golden rods, Alten said immediately.


    Those who heard him immediately whispered among themselves, and for good reason. The price was astronomical. Enough for a massive home in the noble section of Whitefall, and a gods damned estate anywhere else. I wasnt opposed. Even if I lost, in terms of the treasury, it wouldnt leave a dent.


    But what struck me was how specific it was.


    I inclined my head. It was a large enough sum that I wouldnt trust anyone in this room outside of Cephur and Maya with it, but if I didnt present it at all, Alten might get the impression Id go back on it.


    Okay. I counted out ten golden rods into a small leather pouch, and instead of handing it over to a bookkeeper, tossed it on the ground.


    Alten shifted back on the balls of his feet. It was hardly the first time I saw someone take a stance, but something about the smooth-as-silk nature of the movement immediately put me on guard.


    The fight pits were nothing like the countless tournaments Id attendedfull of stuffy, prideful knights currying favor from nobles, where the worst that could happen was a loss of face. Here in the pits, survival was anything but a foregone conclusion. Killing your opponent was frowned upon, but no one was going to step in and stop you, and the only rules were the ones you made for yourself.


    Restraint.


    An image of the drephin burning in a swath of violet fire swirled up in my mind. I needed to remember that despite the dangerousness of the situation, this wasnt the sanctum, and as far as I knew, Alten had no magic.


    Of course, that didnt mean I wouldnt use it.


    Alten was taller than me, the weight difference was in his favor, and he had a hell of a lot more bare-knuckle experience. Tying it all together, he was inhumanly quick. Those were all advantages he had that I lacked.


    Magic was my advantage. But Id grown too accustomed to fighting with every resource at my disposal. I just needed to be subtle. Restrained. The question was how.


    Out of the corner of my eye, a bookkeeper whispered in the announcers ear. The bets were locked in. Wed be starting soon. Next to him, I caught Maya and Cephur whispering to each other, each looking considerably more concerned.


    With a cheery smile, I gave them a wave, then turned my focus to the matter at hand.


    I cycled mana through my body activating the inscriptions on my legs, then drew it up to my arms, exuding air mana in a fine mist. It caught a warm current from the one of the many torches that surrounded the ring and nearly blew off into the stands, but my control was better than it used to be, and I successfully guided it back to Alten, spreading it around his form, paying extra attention to muscle groups, until the mana entirely outlined him in glowing white.


    If there was a mage in the audience, theyd guess what I was up to, but probably wouldnt give a damn.


    Altenstill stoic and grimshifted his neck from side to side, and I felt the movement before it happened.


    Fight!


    The announcer barely finished speaking the word before Alten shot forward.


    My eyes widened. Id expected him to hold back, feel me out as he had during the other matches. Instead, he was trying to end it in one strike.


    Even with the air manas early warning, he nearly did. I stepped aside smoothly, muscle memory taking over as I caught Altens wrist and pivoted, transferring momentum and sending him crashing towards the stands. He pinwheeled, unable to slow himself, and forced a few people closest to the action to leap out of the way as he caught himself on a bench.


    Going somewhere? I asked innocently.


    A slow Ooooooooh, rose from the crowd.


    Alten growled, pushed himself up to his full height, and slowly turned.


    Going to wipe that smug look right off your face. He stomped back towards me.


    I felt the haymaker coming, and still only barely ducked beneath. Hands grabbed my shoulders and Alten drove a vicious knee towards my face. I caught it and pushed him back.


    What followed was pure defense on my part. Alten was too quick and reacting was all I had time to manage, other than light returned blows with little impact. Part of it was that my left arm wasnt exactly suited for restraint. In carapace form it was incredibly dense, essentially a bludgeon. Fantastic for defense, but if I struck with full force, it could easily shatter bones.


    Not the way I wanted this to end.


    Alten slowed, winded, and I disengaged, dancing back and putting a few span between us. Once he recovered, he took a step back and looked me over once more. Youre not what I thought.


    And youre exactly as I hoped. I wiped my sweat from my brow.


    To my complete surprise and the confusion of the crowd, Alten bowed. Feet together, back stiff. Unlike the usual bows directed at me, it didnt feel like the rote acknowledgement of station, rather, something else.


    Recognition.


    Scylds smile died. Apologies. Hes not for sale.


    What are House Westmores words again? Wasnt it, Ill sell my grandmother if it nets me a copper?


    Alten snorted.


    Gold buys all, Scyld said, coldly.


    I clapped my hands together. Right! Of course, how could I forget.


    The slaver tried to rally, raising his voice to broadcast to his words. Perhaps I spoke in error. But as youve seen firsthand, Alten is a rare talent. Gifted. He makes a small fortune here in the pits, so its only natural that I could part with him for nothing less.


    I nodded, as if talking to a very slow child. And that number would be


    Twelve golden rods, and not a sliver less.


    A shocked murmur coursed through the audience.


    Suddenly, Altens demand made sense. His lord had bumped the price, but ten golden rods was likely the sum necessary to pay off the remaining balance of his indentureship in full. It was an absurd sum by my standards. And I was royalty. By Altensa slave in everything but name, who probably made a paltry percentage of his winnings in the pitit wasnt even a question of paying it off in his lifetime. His great-grandchildren would bow and scrape to House Westmore before Altens obligation was halved.


    I made a show of considering the price, then leaned over, ignoring the acrid smell of sweat, and whispered in the slavers ear. Its been some time since Ive been here, so forgive my ignorance. Indentureships were more or less unheard of before my absence and Im unfamiliar with their mechanics. The slavessorry, servantsare given room and board, taken out of their wages, of course, and any wage they make is directly applied to paying down their indentureship. Am I right so far?


    Scyld nodded.


    So the servants are being paid, and as their steward, you are simply saving them the inconvenience of receiving it and immediately handing it back.


    Again, Scyld nodded, squinting in confusion.


    And we agree that the servants are paidliterally paid, and voluntarily paying you with the funds by undertaking an indentureship initially.


    Yes, Scyld said, growing visibly frustrated.


    I smiled. My last question is simple. What percentage of the payments the servants make towards their freedom is taxed?


    The slaver opened his mouth to answer and froze halfway. His skin turned ashen.


    I have to say, Im interested in the minutia. How all the little numbers line up. But alas, thats all beyond me. If youre amenable, I might pay your house a visit to look at your records and bring along someone clever enough to explain what Im seeing. A scribe from the treasury, perhaps?


    I stepped away. Still clammy and pale, Scyld swallowed.


    Would five golden rods be agreeable? he asked.


    Fantastic. I slapped him on the shoulder. Then retrieved the purse from the ground, counted out five golden rods, and pressed them into his limp hand. It didnt feel good paying him at all. But occasionally being on the losing side of bargain was part of being a trader, and at least this way there was a higher chance hed keep it to himself and wouldnt run home screaming to his house.


    The less warning House Westmore had, the better.


    Alten had been watching the exchange with interest, but grew more reserved when he saw the rolled up indentureship in my hand.


    Youre to be my master, then? Alten asked.


    Not a chance. I pressed the indentureship along with the bag of five golden rods into his hand. For a moment, he looked as if his head might explode. Congratulations. Youre free. Free to tell him, me, and Whitefall to screw off and go wherever the hells you want.


    Alten tore up the indentureship on the spot. Then he opened the bag and stared at the contents, as if confirming it was really there. After a long moment, he tied the tassels shut. He looked lost.


    Have you ever wanted something so bad its all you can think about. All you dream about. And when you finally get it, youre left wondering what the fuck to do next? Alten asked.


    That surprised me. Given his circumstances, Id expected him to forge off on his own; I hoped to reconnect with him later. But if not, I was more than willing to let him go. A hundred golden rods wouldnt come close to repaying the loyalty hed shown me.


    But this was even better.


    Want a job? I asked.


    Alten took a long time to answer. Eventually, he looked up at me curiously. What sort of job?

 Chapter 166: Whitefall XXII

    Chapter 166: Whitefall XXII


    Armor doesnt make the soldier. Strapping a scholar, butcher, or brigand into a breastplate doesnt do much to change the man within. Theyll present as a better armored, potentially wealthier version of their previous selves.


    Alten, though? From the moment the servants finished adjusting his ornate silver sheathing and stepped away, he looked complete. As if they had finally returned a part of him that had always been missing.


    Heavy, Alten grunted, winding his shoulder back, getting a sense for his range of motion. Hard to imagine how men fight, weighed down like this.


    The armor master let out an affronted scoff. Hed been pretending to busy himself with organization, casting concerned glances our way every time we so much as moved. Altens sharp eyes followed him as the man crossed behind me once more.


    Who put the bee in his bonnet? Alten asked.


    I smiled apologetically. Unfortunately, youll find Castle Whitefall overrun with nobles poised to balk at the smallest slight, and such reactions magnified when one they consider unworthy exceeds their station.


    Especially that one. Cephur was posted up against the far wall, arms crossed. He shot an irritated look at the hovering armor master. As before, the ranger-turned-commander didnt seem pleased with this turn of events, but his reticence had softened somewhat after Altens history came to light. Took a good year before he stopped treating me like a backwoods ranger.


    Right, Alten said. His face betrayed nothing, but he shifted uncomfortably in place.


    Cephur strode over and studied Altens breastplate, and after asking permission, gave it a firm shake. Then stepped backward with an approving nod. Still, hes bein a little over the top. Probably on account of the history of this armor our noble scion picked out for you.


    Whats the significance of the armor? Alten looked between us.


    Heard of the Silver Swords? I scanned the armory until I found what I was looking for. The gargantuan display case stood out among all the workman-like racks and barrels, and Ithrew it open, perusing the contents as I spoke.


    Cant say I have.


    Well, no tremendous surprise there, I nodded. They carry out their duties competing for glory and treasure in the far reaches of the wilds. Their ranks consist of the strongest fighters Whitefall offers, and the audacity of their exploits is second only to those of the king.


    Hard men, Cephur added. Loyal, but hard and valuable as diamonds. Its not uncommon for a member of the Silver Swords to see more action in their first deployment than most soldiers see over their entire lives.


    Alten looked visibly uncomfortable for the first time. I do not wish to steal another warriors honor.


    I spotted something promising on the top shelf and twisted back to look at Alten. Tell me if my intuition is correct. You prefer something light, but not too light. One-handed with enough length to the hilt to add a second, should the situation require it. Something sharp as a shaving razor but strong and wide enough to stop a claymore.


    Iyes. Alten cocked his head, his expression puzzled.


    After a few awkward attempts to reach, I gave up and dragged a stool over to the cabinet, stepping up and tentatively removing the sword from the shelf.


    Cephur hissed, his eyes wide, but said nothing.


    I unsheathed it and took a second to marvel at the craftsmanship of the blade. The hiltblack and segmented for gripfelt ancient to the touch, and while the blades sheen had grown dull from lack of care, it emanated power. It wasnt magical in the traditional sense, but the countless battles it endured left it with a cold and timeless aura. The blood groove that ran its center was well used, and there was a strange, uniform splotching to the material that ran down the edges and disappeared before they reached the central line.


    Befitting the sword, its nameFadewas deceptively ordinary. But it referred to the eventual death of the pantheon coinciding with Ragnarokwhen, in legend, all realms would meet their end. There was a certain poetry to it that appealed to me, the idea of using a sword that represented the end of all things to wage war against that very end.


    My father first showed it to me when I was barely into my early teenage years, and like any child would, I asked when I would be allowed to wield it.


    It is a soldiers blade, boy. Not a kings.


    Id thought this another one of his arbitrary distinctions, one made for no other reason than to deny me something I wanted. But now, I understood what he had meant.


    I shoved the sword back in its hilt and tossed it to Alten. He unsheathed it and carefully took a few test swings, then smiled, surprised. Ive never held its like.


    Its yours, I said. Visit  for the best novel reading experience


    Altens smile vanished.


    The banquet had reached a fever pitch in our absence. Royal musicians played at a permanent thunderous timbre to be heard over the shouting, laughter, and raucous conversations held by many too drunk to remember them by morning. King Gil still held fast to his throne, taking in the festivities from his elevated position, but the slight stoop to his shoulders told me hed been drinking as much as anyone.


    Beside him, my mother was still alive. Perhaps that seems unnecessary to note, but I couldnt help but check every few minutes, just to ensure she hadnt disappeared in the interim. Every time she caught me looking, her stoic court demeanor would melt and shed raise two fingers in a subtle wave of acknowledgement.


    It surprised me that Maya seemed more popular now than she had at the beginning of the evening. A coterie of noble ladies surrounded her, including Melody, and while her smiles and polite chuckles carried an artificial air, the sharp tinkling noise of genuine laughter rang out more than once. Annette lingered at the fringes of the group, and I watched as Maya expertly drew her into conversation. Several noble ladies followed suit, and Annette seemed dazzled by the attention, though not displeased.


    This is going too well.


    I shook my head and tamped down on the voice, approaching Alten with a tray of food. The poor mans head hadnt stopped swiveling back and forth from the moment we stepped into the banquet hall.


    Its a party, Alten. Try to relax. I took a place beside him.


    Never was much for parties, Alten said, barely sparing me a glance. His eyes lingered on the food on the tray for only a second before his focus returned to the room, specifically towards the table that housed my fathers bannerlords. All four heads of houses were clustered together, sharing drink, their grim dispositions and suspicious glances giving the table a disquieting air.


    My fathers bannerlords, though its uncommon for them to share company this way. They usually keep to their own houses.


    All due respect, my lord


    Cairn. No need for titles.


    Alten inclined his head. If they were looking at you the way theyre staring down your father, wed be in for a much more stressful night.


    Thankfully, theyre not. I poked the tray against the chest of his armor with a resounding clink.


    Alten looked down, and his expression grew dark. What?


    Its food.


    He set his mouth. I meant, what shall I do with it? Hold it for you?


    Im guessing the meals served in your previous accommodations were less than satisfactory.


    You want me to eat it.


    Elphion. It was like pulling teeth.


    Elder gods. Its not an order. I dont expect it of you. If you want it, take it. If not, Ill find some lout in need of balancing out the drink in his belly.


    No, Alten said quickly, then hesitated. Shouldnt I be the one bringing you food? The gravel in his voice betrayed how much he hated that idea.


    Youre a guard, not a servant.


    He licked his lips subconsciously, reached out to grab the tray and froze there, eyes flicking back and forth as if mentally calculating something. How am I meant to defend you if my hands are full?


    I rolled my eyes. Never in my life had I seen a hungry man go to such lengths to avoid eating. If were attacked, Ill do my very best to hold them off until you can make ready.


    As you wish, Alten said, finally accepting this with a grave nod. He never stopped looking, though, scanning the crowd even as he hefted a leg of lamb and devoured it until the bone was all that remained. Methodically, he cleared the tray until there was nothing left, his still alert eyes slightly softening into a sated expression.


    Out of the corner of my eye, a figure rose on the dais at the head of the room. My mother gently removed her arm from the servant who was supporting her and approached the front. Slowly, the excited voices and caterwauling of men deep in their cups faded to nothing. It always impressed me how easily she commanded the nobilitys attention.


    Speech! a man bellowed drunkenly. I looked over in time to see one of his fellows cuff him on the back of the head.


    Elaria shot the two a mockingly stern expression, then returned her focus to the room at large. With an even smile, she spoke.

 Chapter 167: Whitefall XXIII

    Chapter 167: Whitefall XXIII


    It was once common for my mother to address the nobles directly. Shed appeal to them often on social matters, encourage charitable giving, and promote nobles and commoners alike who worked on philanthropic causes or projects that aided the kingdom at large.


    Where my father brought fire and brimstone, my mother brought kindness and light. And after her passing, there was nothing but flames. In her twilight yearswhich she was on the cusp of nowher addresses became less frequent. And during her last address, shed broken under the pressure. Frozen. And had to be escorted away from the whispering public. Her health devolved quickly after that, her kindness smudged out with pain, all light extinguished.


    Having nursed it for what felt like an age, I downed the remains of my third and final glass of wine for the evening. Even if this vintage was barely more than water, my tolerance was a shadow of its former self. And the idea of returning to former habits now that I was home haunted the dark reaches of my mind. Thoth wouldnt kick back and relax in my stead. Even now, she was gathering new allies, allies absent from the invasion the first time, clearly intending to shore up any weakness in her ranks now that the infernals were, at least for the moment, beyond her grasp.


    So instead of imbibing further, I drank in the moment instead. The image of the nobles leaning forward, intent on hearing every word. My father seated behind her, one leg crossed over the other, chin casually rested on his ring-adorned fist.


    Queen Elaria scanned the crowd, making eye contact with everyone she could. She spoke with them silently, acknowledging their existence, reinforcing that their presence was not only noticed but welcome. From a lesser speaker, this might have drawn muttering and lost the attention of the crowd, but the gravitas of her presence fixed them in place.


    Her voice rang out as she clasped the brooch at her throat. This is a time of great significance for Silodan. A time of transformation. But grand alterations are never so simple. It is written on your faces. Excitement, curiosity, but also confusion and fear. You have endured much. For that is the way of Silodan. We may quibble, and bicker, and come to odds, but when the moment that would break others comes, we endure. She paused then, and more than a few nobles in the crowd nodded, murmurs of agreement rising to meet her. Her gaze landed on me.


    The crown prince serves as a testament to this. She extended a hand towards me, her eyes crinkling kindly. I stood, made my way around several tables and mounted the dais, taking the stairs two at a time and smoothly slid into place beside her. He was little more than a child. Clumsy. Inexperienced.


    She winked at me. And had only just begun insisting that he could read his own books.


    We both knew damn well Id done no such thing. But I made the requisite groan and eye-roll, and drew the laughter she clearly intended.


    And that child faced an enemy greater than any we have ever known. Her voice was icy, slicing with the precision of a surgeon through the levity shed created .


    The crowd fell quiet.


    Many of you have already heard rumors of the enemy we face. An arch-mage capable of creating wide-scale disasters and ending lives with a snap of her fingers. But more than that, a revolutionary. One with enough power, influence, and terror to bend countless others to their will. This force of nature attacked my husbands caravan. Many good men died that day. And one innocent child faced a choice. Die, or endure.


    So thats where this is going.


    Queen Elaria reached over and squeezed my bicep affectionately. And his answer shines clear as day. Prince Cairn endured. Transformed. Changed. He lured the arch-mage into the Everwood, and once he escaped her clutches, set out on a quest to strengthen not only himself, but bolster our defenses. He started by solidifying an alliance with the infernals. An emissary who aided this quest is here with us today. My mother extended a hand again, just as she had to summon me.


    Maya rose. To anyone else, she would look like the picture of propriety. But all the training in the world couldnt hide the way her eyes widened in terror as she crested the steps and took her place across from me.


    My mother gave her subtle smile of apology, and Maya returned a minute nod. Then the queen continued her address. A son of Whitefall and daughter of the enclave. They are both young. Yet they have accomplished more in their lifetimes than most. They have faced the adversary andrather than crumbleendured. Transformed. And the fruit of their bravery is demonstrated before you today. So I proffer a question. If a child can stand against the darkest this world offers are you still afraid?


    There was a swelling uproar as many of the crowd stood to their feet, in defiance of the adversary theyd only heard whispers of before this moment. I suppressed a frown. It was clear what she was trying to do. Tether my identity to Whitefall itself as an example, simultaneously welcoming me back into the fold and encouraging them to follow suit. It was a solid speech, but considering my mothers extensive talent, it didnt rank highly. She spoke most effectively when her words were spontaneous, prodigiously and painstakingly drawn from the heart. This by comparison felt rote. Practiced. Had I recalled incorrectly, allowed the truth of matters to be cast in the hue of pained nostalgia? Or was there something else in the mix, something I wasnt seeing?


    So I tried what worked then. Its no big deal. Well shimmy around a bit, avoid stepping on each others toes, and by morning, theyll all be too hungover to remember how bad we were.


    Maya sniffed. You might be out of practice, but I am completely prepared.


    They taught you? I blurted.


    Mayas eyes darkened. Far more adequately than the last time I was press-ganged into a dance.


    I scoffed. We were being hunted.


    Details.


    We parted at the center, turned, then faced each other. Despite whatever nerves she was feeling, Mayas expression was stone cold neutral. I reviewed our options. A waltz only suited so many dances, but there were a few that appeared complex while being simple in execution.


    But before I could pick one, Maya chose for me. She pressed her gloved hand against my chest.


    And pushed.


    Our spectators had a mixed reaction. Some oohd, while others could only stare in disbelief. For good reason. There was only one dance that started that way. The Nobles Guile, inspired by the tale of Tristan and Elouise. It was also infamous for being one of the mostif not the mostflashy and technically demanding dances in polite society, equally demanding on both partners who traded the leading multiple times within just a few moments.


    No matter how drunk they were, no one watching would forget it.


    It was bold, brilliant, and entirely too brash, requiring a level of hubris that Lillianas much as I loved herwould never dream of.


    Are you mad? I mouthed.


    Are you afraid? she mouthed back.


    I was. Of so very many things.


    But not of this. While Id routinely dodged pretty much anything to do with combat, the rest of my early education and training were extensive. Id learned the steps of the Nobles Guile not long after Id learned to walk. And when I found a partner capable of Elouises part, regardless of station or age, I pestered them as often as I could. Because there really was nothing else like it.


    We exchanged bows. And began.

 Chapter 168: Whitefall XXIV

    Chapter 168: Whitefall XXIV


    Its impossible to please everyone, much as we might wish otherwise. From the most splendid crafter in a city center to the most rustic tradesman, all ply their craft with this tenet in mind. If you try to please everyone, you will fail far more often than you succeed.


    The Nobles Guile was a rare exception to the rule.


    Timely strings devolved, becoming bawdier and brasher as highly trained musicians mimicked the self-taught expression of rustic folk songs. While the results were initially uncomplicated compared to their previous performances, the song itself was in a troublesome key, and in a short time it would change, becoming something else entirely.


    I smirked as Maya studied her nails, barely visible irises of her white eyes flickering towards me, then back to her palm seemingly uninterested in the proceedings. Id known her to be clever, even brilliant. But this was the first instance I saw how damn calculated she could be. Despite her irritation and apparent displeasure with my mothers putting her on the spot, shed accounted for this. Chosen it intentionally and placed herself in the role of a noble lady, while I played the part of a lowborn jester attempting to win her heart. If successful, casting herself this way wouldat least in partchallenge the image of infernals as savage, cave-dwelling spellcasters who kidnapped children, while simultaneously raising her station. It was a maneuver worthy of a terrifyingly clever politician, assuming we could pull it off.


    The conflicting image of the madmans assistant Id met in the woods swirled up in my mind, and not for the first time, I wondered how much shed changed in my absence.


    But that didnt matter. Right now, I needed to do everything possible to ensure Mayas attempt was successful.


    I put a hand on my chest, feigning shock, over-emoting so even those at a distance could make out my interpretation of a ridiculous court jester.


    The question now was how to proceed. Most modern interpretations of the dance portrayed Tristan pursuing Elouise abstractly, while older choreography was more direct and difficult. Given that Maya had chosen the most difficult dance for an incredibly high-pressure moment, I had to assume shed prefer the latter.


    With a brief prayer to Elphion that I wasnt misreading her cues, I scowled and trudged forward. Mayas cold eyes watched impassively as I approached, then widened slightly as I bent down and seized her torso and legs, and threw her over my shoulder. A raucous cheer rose from the crowd. Then I turned and walked off the floor.


    My anxiety ebbed when I realized Mayas fists beat against my back in time with the music. She was being a little rougher with her strikes than she needed to be, but shed expected this. Right before we reached the edge of the dance floor, she pressed a palm flat against my back. This chapter is updated by


    I loosened my grip, responding to the signal immediately, and she kicked upward, launching herself over my shoulder and retreating in a series of spins and swirls out onto the floor, glaring with open contempt. I closed the distance, stopping as she placed a hand on my chest. But instead of pushing as she had in the opening, Maya let her hand slide down, off, and away. The music shifted, incorporating the bawdy influence into a stately flair, becoming more complex, more whole.


    The Nobles Guile was more play than dance, a story of an illicit courtship told in three parts. The first was a tale of clashing backgrounds, mismatched social standing, and an awkward beginning, while the second part detailed reticent, blossoming attraction between two contrasting opposites. While nothing in the surrounding mythos stated this directly, I formed the impression early in my exploration of the tale that it was a story of mutual respect.


    As the story goes, Elouise is a queen trapped in a loveless political marriage. As an import from a foreign land, she has no friends, no connections to the cold and lifeless place to which shes been transplanted. She withdraws, growing as cold as her surroundings. Displeased with the state of his queen but disinterested in making any personal effort to improve her circumstances, the king heeds counsel to provide her with music and entertainment.


    Enter Tristan, the lecherous court jester.


    At first, Tristan sees Elouise as little more than an object of lust. He pursues her relentlessly in the beginning, the eventual consummation of that lust his only goal. But despite her repeated rejections and the dichotomy of power, Elouise never reports his advances or attempts to banish him outright. Instead, she keeps him close. Confides in him, elevates his career, music, and prospects. Becomes his muse. And by the end of the second act, when Elouise decides she wishes for more, it is Tristan that resists. Not because his feelings have fadedmore the opposite: He now cannot imagine a life without her, and understands that taking this step he once mindlessly pursued will threaten the once-in-a-lifetime connection theyve formed.


    I tried desperately to keep the story in mind, the role I was playing, as Maya pursued me.


    The musicality of her motions were hypnotic, dynamic, spellbinding. The only thing that kept me from outright embarrassing myself was that I could read her far better than any woman Id danced with to date. Perhaps it was because of the time wed spent together, the endless days fighting side by side. Perhaps it was because, unlike most noble ladies, shed learned to fight before shed learned to dance, and thanks to that origin her footwork felt almost martial.


    Still, despite our familiarity, it took every bit of my fraying focus to keep up with her.


    As the dance entered the third act, my anxiety spiked. The last section of the Nobles Guile was far and away the most difficult. It represented unity in the face of hardship, two souls becoming one even as the world itself attempted to tear them apart. So far, our version was nontraditionalmost preferred to dance the legendary queen as a lighthearted tease, becoming only slightly more serious in the second act and finally losing all frivolity in the third, in part to represent Elouises changing feelings, in part because the choreography was too demanding to do anything other than hold on. Technical prowess aside, Mayas interpretation of Elouise had been aggressive, almost combative. If she kept that demeanor going into the third part, the finish would be catastrophic.


    Yet again, Maya surprised me. Her fingertips lingered as her touch became lighter and less demanding. Almost gentle. In the wake of singing strings and the deep thrum of a bass valintien our surroundings fell away and we danced as one.


    The first of many. A deep sadness plied at me, as the distance between us seemed to widen. It was a gambit, but it paid off. You did exceptionally well this evening, though I fear for your legs, as there will be many nobles lining up to dance with the infernal diplomat after that display.


    You think? Maya asked, suddenly daunted.


    I shook my head. I know.


    With that I bowed and retreated with as much dignity as I could muster. A voice deep within my mind, a voice I despised, told me that this was probably for the best. Id thought our time apart would dull my feelingsfeelings that were a distraction, and at worst could be my undoingbut they were still there, as strong as theyd ever been.


    I spotted Alten and inclined my head toward the back entrance. The sun would be up in a matter of hours and the following day would be demanding and busy from morning to dusk.


    Someone grabbed my arm. I turned, to find Maya there, breathing hard, determination written in her expression. She released me just as quickly, suddenly aware of the stolen glances directed our way. It was the first dance I learned. Thats why I chose it. Because it was my first.


    That answered one question, but begged another. Why would you start with something so difficult?


    For a moment, she looked as if her heart might break. Have you forgotten that our souls are tied? That Ive seen everything youve seen, felt everything you felt? Witnessed every triumph and tragedy as if I was there, an invisible, empathic observer. Maya regained her composure, the diplomats mask sliding back into place. After I began my descent into the depths of sanctum, I grew lonely. So lonely that I courted madness. The worst nights, Id pretend that you were there with me. Sometimes wed just talk. Sometimes wed dance. Your memories of the Nobles Guile were so vivid, so detailed, it was like you were there to teach me yourself. Like I wasnt alone.


    Thats


    Beautiful.


    Embarrassing, Maya finished.


    Maybe it was the wine talking. Or maybe it was something else, something more honest. When I said Id give you time, I meant it. Ill wait for you until the world ends. Maybe longer.


    Maya flushed a darker shade of purple. If that turns out to be another lie, Im not sure I could bring myself to forgive you.


    No more lies, Maya. I promise.


    We both lingered awkwardly, unsure where we stood. When Melody finally arrived, looping her arm through Mayas and spiriting her away, the interruption was a mercy.


    I returned to my previous aim, leaving the hall, and made sure Cephur knew I was leaving and would watch over our diplomat guest in my absence. It was unlikely that anything would happen, but I was past the point of betting against unlikely, and knowing he was there provided much needed peace of mind. The evening had taken on a saccharine tint, and my mind was so overwhelmed by the return and the many reunions that all I wanted was to get away.


    Alten fell in step behind me, unknowingly mirroring the last time wed left this hall together. He was still vigilant, but seemed to have grown more comfortable in his role since we arrived. For all the noise about enemies and danger? Most action I got tonight was some nobles son who almost spilled a drink on me.


    I looked out through one of the embrasures that lined the walkway, searching the city streets below for anything out of the ordinary. You think Im overselling it?


    First day. Im giving it time, Alten said. He was being politefor him, anywaybut he probably thought I was paranoid.


    Dont worry, I mused, taking one last look before I continued to my rooms. Thered been no interruptions, no invasions, no sudden attacks from Thoth. It was going entirely too well. The one truth Ive found over the last few years is that peace is fragile. Fleeting. Enjoy it while it lasts. Because it wont last forever.


    Aye.

 Chapter 169: Whitefall XXV

    Chapter 169: Whitefall XXV


    I awoke with a groan. My temples vibrated with the stern drums of morning, one thought rising to the surface.


    Really? A hangover? After three glasses of wine?


    Still. If I closed my eyes, shoved my face into the plush, furred duvet, and ignored the headache, I was exorbitantly comfortable. It almost didnt matter that I was lying on the ground, bare feet pressed into the door. Sure, it was a little cold. But the comfort of the blanket alone felt exorbitantly luxurious compared to my rough sanctum bedroll.


    Maybe if I just closed my eyes for a while, I could get back to sleep.


    Who the fuck are you? Alten snarled.


    I could ask the same question, Vogrin replied testily. In fact, I would love an in-detail explanation for why a simpleton in ill-fitted armor was staking out my masters sofa.


    Is there something wrong with the bed? Why is he sleeping on the floor? Annette asked, her voice deadpan.


    Dunno, Eckor said. Hes strange more often than hes not.


    So much for sleeping it off. I threw off the blanket and sat up blearily, taking in the surrounding chaos. Vogrin faced off with Alten, the latter having drawn his sword and placed himself between me and the demon, while Vogrin floated about a foot off the groundcreating a far more menacing image than necessary. Annette and Eckor stood off to the side, and seemed to treat this like some sort of spectacle. I looked back at the door, then to my youngest sister. Maybe I was reading into it, but from the small quirk of her mouth she was enjoying this a little too much.


    How did you all get in? I asked.


    Annette shrugged. Its nearing mid-morning. I knocked, was gruffly told to piss-off by a voice I didnt recognize who offered no further explanation, and like any responsible sibling was concerned. So I came through the secret passageway in the fireplace. Eckor escorted me.


    Apologies for the intrusion. Eckor bowed.


    Theres a secret passageway in the fireplace? With the pounding in my head, I was having trouble keeping up.


    Annette walked to the foot of the room, reached over to pull a goddamn candelabra, and the entire fireplace rotated ninety degrees, revealing a dark passageway beyond.


    Please tell me thats a recent addition.


    Its been here for longer than either of us have been alive. Annette blinked owlishly. You didnt know?


    That really could have come in handy last time.


    Now that weve got infrastructure out of the way, can I get an explanation for the wight in the goddamn room? Alten glowered. Hed assumed a defensive stance, protecting me from the threat but not advancing on it out of order. Vogrin had forgone any attempt to look mortal, and with his black-veined alabaster skin, bloodied blindfold, and that he was floating, Altens concern was understandable. Hells, with the concentrated level of menace Vogrin was channeling, I was almost concerned, and Id had years to get used to him.


    Eckor had met Vogrin during the conflict on the journey home. But Annette had no prior experience with the demon. Which made her lack of reaction stand out all the more.


    I rubbed my face. Alten, this is Vogrin, my demon. And despite being an eternal sourpuss, hes mostly on our side.


    So it is a demon. Annette studied him, the explanation only seeming to interest her more.


    Mostly? Altens eyes narrowed.


    Why didnt you hide yourself? I asked Vogrin, more than a little frustrated. I could have easily avoided this if hed just stayed out of sight.


    That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Vogrin vibrated with rage, his fists clenched. I accomplished the task that was set before me. My instructions after said task were to report directly to you. If I returned to the amulet, I would be insensate for quite some time. And seeing how I have very little mana to draw on given my host and drastic change of environment, and true invisibility is not a cheap spell, I had little recourse beyond dropping it.


    Alten had yet to lower his sword. Bastard was watching me sleep. Just standing over me.


    I groaned. Id spent so much time with the demon that his more unsettling habits had become a matter of course. Vogrin, are you bothering Alten intentionally, or just being yourself?


    Vogrin sniffed. I am an intellectual above all else. And as an intellectual, I have a responsibility to investigate the inexplicable wherever I find it. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    I waited, not wanting to pull on any thread that would send him off on another rant.


    Vogrin gestured to Alten. He has a feeling of a powerof the same sort that might emanate from a mage of three or more elements, yet no mana to speak of.


    Altens eyes flicked toward me. What the hells is he on about?


    What were you here for? I smiled thinly, patience running thin as I tried to give the man my full attention and still pick up what Annette and my father were talking about outside. Was there a problem with the royal botanist?


    No. Eckor rubbed his face, and for the first time I noticed how tired he looked. There were bags under his eyes, and patchy stubble on his chin. He was most agreeable. The lab theyve given me is spaciouspossibly a little too spaciousand they allowed access to all but the rarest materials.


    Then what do you need? I asked.


    A mattress. He winced like he was asking too much. A few pillows as well, if its not too much trouble.


    It took a second before I realized, and once I did, I could have kicked myself for the oversight. Eckor couldnt stay with the Crimson Brand. Hed effectively defied them to help me, and they were as vindictive as they were enigmatic.


    WaitWhere did you sleep last night? I asked.


    In the lab, Eckor said, overtly miserable. I had a bedroll, but it and the rest of my belongings were thoroughly displaced.


    Crimson Brand bastards. Have to deal with them, eventually.


    Uh. I apologize, my friend. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to solve this quickly to not further exacerbate the situation with my father. Itll be simple enough to requisition some things. The least I can do. You said the labs were spacious. Would you prefer your own quarters, or a live-in situation at the lab, closer to your work?


    Several of the materials Im working with are volatile, liable to explode. Others are toxic. Others still are poisonous enough that if I inhaled a stray particle, I would begin frothing at the mouth and meet my end in minutes, Eckor said. He wasnt being sarcastic, exactly, just blunt and morose.


    Noted, I muttered. There were several guest rooms in the castle I could assign him with no issue, but there were problems with Eckors situation I hadnt fully considered. The first was the Crimson Brand. They seemed to blame Eckor for my fathers punishment, which meant he was absolutely in danger. People who spoke out about the Brand had a nasty habit of disappearing, and magicians who departed the institution with no love lost were even more likely to step off the edge of eternity. Id need to make sure soldiers Id vetted, preferably men and women with no ties or love for the Brand, were constantly on guard.


    That would take time.


    But maybe there was an easier solution. My rooms comprised the bedroom proper, a sitting room that doubled as a study, then into a second bedroom proper in case I entertained guests late into the night. Ill need to talk to the head servant, but well have something for you shortly. Why dont you stay here until we lock down something a little more permanent?


    Eckors jaw dropped. Im a commoner, my lord.


    Blood matters little. I turned him towards the sitting room, and pointed him to the door on the end. I barely use the place. Rearrange it however youd like. And get some rest.


    Eckor wandered through the sitting room in a daze and I closed the door behind him, giving Alten a look.


    He at risk? Alten asked, always quick on the uptake.


    Oh, yes. I rubbed the rest of the sleep from my face, still feeling odd and out of sorts. You mind expanding your duties a bit? Monitoring him until I figure something out?


    No trouble at all. Alten smiled, a sliver of shadow from his helmet obscuring his eyes. And if that expanded duty means eventually getting license to crack some pompous mages skull, all the better.


    You realize Im a mage, I pointed out wryly.


    You dont hail from the Crimson Brand. Thats enough for me, Alten said, and I made a mental note to ask when I wasnt running so low on time.


    With that sorted, the only matter left to deal with was Vogrins. I looked him over. Anything critical?


    Vogrins lips pursed. Possibly. He paused, glancing at Alten, then back towards the open door where my father had retreated. Though nothing definitive, there were aspects of his behavior that were concerning. He was not easy quarry.


    Can it wait? I asked. My father had finished talking to Annette and returned to my rooms, shutting the door behind him.


    As I said, there was nothing definitive.


    I nodded. Then recover your strength. Well speak as soon as youre able.


    Vogrin vanished, his body dissolving and losing shape as he disappeared back into the amulet around my neck, cold metal at my collarbone warming slightly.


    Now that we were alone, my father broke out into a grin. It looked slightly unhinged on his face, almost menacing. Elphion smiles on us today, boy.


    Does he? I asked. This wasnt the beginning of the lecture Id expected. This was something else.


    King Gils smile grew wider. What if there was a way to end this war before it even begins?

 Chapter 170: Whitefall XXVI

    Chapter 170: Whitefall XXVI


    A way to end the war before it even began?


    The idea was tantalizing. It wouldnt be entirely wrong to say it was what I wanted more than anything else. If my time with the infernals had taught me anything, it was that working with a group of people and coming to understand them enough to forge the alliances made it even more painful when they were put at risk.


    Even now, the casualties were difficult to stomach.


    People were lost, maimed, and killed because I placed them in Thoths path. As a spy at Thoths side, Bellarex was in an astronomical amount of danger. Countless others had fallen in failed loops. Even if the latter was impermanent, it never got easier to see my friends, people I loved, suffering because of my mistakes and failures.


    If we could end that now? I couldnt imagine anything more worth doing.


    Which naturally, brought me back to trust. And whether Thoth had seen this before.


    With too much in mind, I pored over a series of maps and documents my father had provided, trying to make sense of them as he talked.


    That shes putting in so much effort recruiting from other continents points to the likelihood that she intends to continue doing so. Ceding the resources of Uskar to Silodan.


    And youre sure shes sailing east? I asked, staring at the map, hardly able to believe it.


    Thaddeuss network is confident. Gil stroked his beard. We received a messenger from the enclave, hot on our heels confirming the information. Sourced from the very infernal you placed in Thoths camp. Id wager the entire treasury shes heading to Kragmor.


    The satyr homeland. It was a safe bet. Amongst the number of smallmostly uninhabited lands between the two continents, Kragmor was the point of interest. It was an expansive landmass, vast, arid, and landlocked. Few humans lived there because of the climate. But from what little I knew, satyrs tended toward pacifism. They were notorious pranksters who delighted in music and the arts, and were far more likely to get you drunk and waking up with crude drawings on your forehead than kill you. To the extent of my knowledge theyd never even fought in a war.


    Why would she even want them? I mused, trying to find the angle, a destination Thoth might divert to at the last moment, coming up dry.


    Why does a conqueror seek any ally? King Gil answered.


    Power. Military, economic, or otherwise.


    Correct. He nodded. Which you can see in the logic of her movements. The orcs are brilliant fighters. As technically proficient as they are brutally strong. But almost entirely martial. A spell-casting orc is about as common as a dragon. Satyrs though? Youd be hard-pressed to find one with only a single element, let alone no magic at all. Their His mouth turned downward in distaste. Whimsical nature, lack of merged power, and general absence of ambition is the only reason they havent become a problem until now.


    Martial fighters first. Then mages.


    Fingers of anxiety lashed at my heart. I sat back on the sitting room couch, swallowing bile. Shes still building an army. Different from what I saw in my vision, but just as dangerous.


    She holds all the cards. Knows all the possibilities, all the end results. How the hell am I supposed to adapt to her when her tactics keep changing?


    Before feeling sorry for yourself, Id advise you to place a satyr and an orc in a holding cell and see how long it takes for them to find common ground, my father growled. Theyd reach accord well after Ragnarok.


    I couldnt bring myself to reply. Cultural differences had never stopped Thoth before. At the coronation, shed had elves, infernals, dwarves, and a handful of other eclectic, isolationist groups working in perfect tandem. Irreconcilable differences between satyr and orc wouldnt stop her. She probably already knew the key to get the two groups to work together.


    Youve never dealt with an enemy on this scale before. Even theoretically. My fathers voice was oddly sympathetic, as he watched me draw the inevitable conclusions. Shes tireless. Exquisite. Not to mention, more than the sum of her parts.


    So Ive noticed, I said, my mind still spinning. He was more right than he realized.


    My father reached towards a bin of koss pieces on the edge of the table. He placed a red matriarch in the center, marking the center of Thoths intercontinental voyage. Most revolutions fizzle out in the stillbirth. This is self-evident, and often self-fulfilling. The way most regime changes are pitched to a populace is as an attempt to create fairness. Fairness is a false construction born from weakness, and by admitting too many heads in the war room they weaken themselves further, opening up something that was once promising to be picked apart and argued over by countless scavengers looking for scraps.


    He placed a barracks piece that, despite its name, looked more akin to a woodshed, next to Thoth. She cuts through much, if not all of thisthe quibbling, the infightingthrough absolute power. If reports of this are correct, shes not making any of the usual mistakes. Killing people who disagree with her on a pragmatic level, considering herself above it all and allowing exploitable dissension within her ranks. If you disagree on a pragmatic level, fine, but youd better be ready to back it up. If someones creating dissension, she cracks down hard. And while shes mostly sticktheres enough carrot that her backers wont start thinking too hard about what theyre replacing.


    My father leafed through the documents. Id only ever seen this side of him when he was dissecting my childhood stories, and he lacked the long-suffering contempt Id often associated with those memories. He passed them to me, waiting for me to look them over.


    I blinked. Unless I was missing something, these were construction blueprints for a massive engineering project. There were pipes interspersed with filtration points. The infernals had a similar system, but there was a key difference.


    Plumbing? I confirmed.


    My father nodded.


    I stroked my chin and tried to puzzle through what I was seeing. The scale of these looks astronomical. Considering the length of the pipes alonehow the hell do they intend to move the water without magic?


    Rivers flow downhill. Such is the way of things. The orc homeland is a harsh, mountainous region. Not unlike ours, but on the opposite end of the spectrum. Theres no snow for them to melt. Much of their sea-level water is non-potable, tainted by disease or the many foul monsters that roam freelyand the only reliable sources are harrowingly vertical, hundreds of springs located toward the apex of craggy mountains that are threatening enough to traverse that many orcs die attempting the journey, despite their hardy natures. This was their way of life. Another hardship of the land that was simply taken in stride. At least, until the arch-mage crested their shores.


    I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing. She created a system to pipe water down from the mountain, using the weight of the water itself. But thats


    A little too clever for a brutal warlord? My father prompted. Indeed. Thaddeus reached out to his contacts in the Dwarven Depths, as a project this massive and technical bears their fingerprints in one form or another.


    And? I asked, bracing myself for the answer. If Thoth already had her tendrils wrapped around the dwarves, and had dwarven engineers at her beck and call, things were already far more dire than Id realized.


    There was apparently a miscommunication. Because his contacts first course was to attempt to buy the plans. Persistently. To where negotiations escalated and Thaddeuss agent barely escaped alive. My fathers eyes gleamed.


    So it wasnt them? I said.


    No. Though there were aspects that were clearly based on their work. The dwarves are no strangers to the concept of piping water from another location, given their preferred environment. He tapped his finger on the table, and I got a feeling this was hardly the first time hed studied these documents. What gave them pauseand eventually led to Thaddeuss agent having a terrible daywas the filtration methods. Theyve been primarily using mana-sieves to filter. An expensive investment, and given the constant dampness, one that lacks longevity. Theyve experimented with non-magical methods to varying degrees of failure at least, until now. Based on their reaction, either Thoth has a clever researcher in her pocket, or the idea came from the woman herself. Which do you find more likely?


    I paused, feeling an unexpected anxiety at the question. It wasnt rhetorical. He was genuinely asking for my opinion, waiting for me to make a judgment call based on first-hand experiences. It felt strange, for him of all people to actually rely on me.


    Given all the time Id had to ruminate on Thoth, on her nature, the answer came to me almost immediately. I doubted it was the one he wanted. Its neither.


    When my father waited expectantly, I continued. Warlords, particularly the brutally deranged sort, are overly fixated on strength, be it martial or magical. Thoth passes herself off that way, but I think taking that at face value is a potentially fatal mistake.


    What sort of forces? I asked, curious despite myself.


    My father cleared his throat. Theres a small contingent of merfolk thathow do I say itowe me a favor for their continued existence. Since were elevating the demi-humans, I figure its time for them to make good. Theyll be sinking any emergency vessels and drowning anyone from Thoths side that falls in.


    I thought the point was to let the ocean kill them.


    It will, son. But contingencies are the strategists grace. My father chuckled again, and there was no doubt in my mind he was imagining Thoths forces diving into the water to shield themselves from the onslaught, only to find the long swim cut short. Even if we lose sight of her, theyll be on the lookout. Theres little purpose in pointless sacrifices.


    The fact that he would was left unsaid. If it came down to letting Thoth go or assailing the ships with Bellarex inside, his choice was obvious. Id need to do everything I could to make sure that didnt happen.


    When do we leave? I asked.


    King Gil rose, extending a hand. I took it, and he hoisted me to my feet, nearly wrenching my arm from its socket. When the weapons are ready. Months. In the meantime, Id advise you to train, prepare, get to know your regiment, and enjoy your last stint of freedom.


    My hand subconsciously went to my side as I processed what hed said.


    He spotted the movement and sternly shook his head. I never intended to reign forever.


    What? Abdication? Now? You cant be serious.


    Wherever Id thought this conversation was going to lead when he let himself into my quarters, it certainly wasnt here. It was entirely unlike him. Even when hed ceded the throne once Id reached the proper age, he was begrudging about it.


    My father sighed deeply and took me by the shoulders. My sovereignty is compromised. Many are displeased with my handling of Uskar during your childhood, and even less charmed by my more recent decrees integrating the lesser races into modern society. And the lesser racesfor obvious reasons, are not my most stringent supporters.


    Not least of which because you insist on thinking of them as lesser.


    Somehow, I kept my mouth shut.


    Truth is, I should have done this years ago. Let you take the crown, allowed your mother to lead by proxy until you came of age. He rubbed his beard, and the circles beneath his eyes seemed more pronounced, ancient. Im of stubborn stock. Same as you. But not so stubborn I cant scent the nascent coup forming beneath my nose. If it wasnt the arch-mage, it will be our own people. And they will be equally kind.


    It sounded like he was handing me the keys to a burning building. When I said thatalbeit in a more diplomatic factionhe laughed.


    When you return from our voyage of old, the criers will shout the truth. The arch-mage is felled, with Cairn, the prince of Uskar the bringer of our salvation. At first, theyll love you because you arent me. Eventually, theyll love you for who you are. If you bring the demi-humans to the table, create the unity you promised the infernals, all the betterit will usher in a time of peace and prosperity greater than any we have ever known. Disappointing, but prosperous.


    Of course, that wouldnt be the end. Ragnarok was coming. But if his words were true? If Thoth met her ultimate resting place in a watery grave, and he abdicated as he promised? Wed have ample time to reform the kingdom and face the end of the world. Together.


    With that, he turned to leave. I watched his movements slow, graceful, as his furred cloak trailed behind him. For the first time in my memory, he didnt look like a thug, or a monster, or a bully. He looked like my father.


    He looked like a king.


    I called after him, softly. Is it really so simple?


    With the same grace and poise, he turned to face me. Nodded. Aye.


    A voice told me to leave it there. Let it go. But I couldnt. In my previous life, I believed that people never really changed. They either realized who they were, or remained ignorant, in the dark. My thoughts on the topic had altered, based in no small part that I was living evidence that change was possible, but it had never been easy. I paid for my transformation in a river of blood, every step a living hell, every mistake a disaster. Yet here he was, completely different from the father Id left.


    Why? I asked.


    Why what?


    I stalked towards him, fists clenched at my sides. His eyes widened as I closed the distance, but he stood his ground, unmoving. You expect me to believe thatwhatyour son fucks off for a few years and thats enough for his father to find his benevolent side? That suddenly hes seen the error of his ways? Maybe Im still a child, but I wasnt born yesterday. Giving your power away freely, when its not even expected? Dont make me laugh. All youve ever done is take, and take, and take, until theres nothing left. I grabbed the lapels of his coat. He didnt budge, didnt blink. So tell me, why?


    King Gil didnt strike me. Didnt so much as raise a hand. There was a profound sadness in his eyes, too deep to be anything but real. Yes. Naturally, youd see it that way. I havent given you any reason to believe otherwise, I know that.


    Finally, he looked away, his gaze drawn to the inscribed patterns in the floor. The night of my coronation was like entering a footrace with a devil slow of stride, but one that never tires, never sleeps. Theres no comfort in power, son. Thats what they dont tell you. Its never enough. Youll never feel secure, or safe. Your only true recourse is to continue to expand, cultivate more power, sire legitimate heirs, and run, and run, and runhoping that its enough, praying to any gods that will listen every time you go to sleep. That tonight isnt the night the devil closes the gap.


    So thats what this is? Youre tired of running? I remembered myself suddenly and released his lapels, stepping backward.


    I was tired of running before you were born. Still, it was my role. My duty. But when your mothers mystery illness bared its ugly head, I reexamined everything. His gaze grew far away. What would be left of me, after she was gone. And the answer was hard to stomach. All at once, his attention returned to me. The infernal attended your mother in her chambers this morning. She said the work wasnt complete, but even the immediate results were startling. Elarias skin lost its pallor. She didnt need a servant to help her out of bed. And once she was up, she was as alive and beautiful as the day I met her. My father reached out and placed a massive palm on my head. Thats thanks to you, son.


    It was the closest to fatherly, physical affection hed ever come. I swallowed, choking back a lifetime of emotion struggling to break free.


    You asked me why, King Gil said. And I think, fuck Valhalla. Id like to grow old with your mother, now that I have the chance. Is that alright?


    I chuckled, still unable to look him in the eye. Yeah. Yeah, I think shed like that.


    Then weve come to an accord. My father clapped me on the shoulder. One last thing. No need to rush, but a future king should eventually have a queen.


    I got caught up on his wording. How unimportant it seemed to him. You dont have anyone in mind?


    King Gil shrugged. Nope. His nose wrinkled. Much as I hate to say this, it should probably be a demi-human if you want to play it diplomatically. You could always take a noble mistress, if youd prefer human heirs. Other than that, youve shown remarkable judgment so far.


    Illuh. Take that under consideration.


    With that, King Gil left. He pulled the door shut behind him and his footsteps sounded down the hallway, still heavy, but somehow lighter than before.


    I slumped, asking the empty room the question I couldnt ask anyone else. What the hells is happening?

 Chapter 171: Whitefall XXVII

    Chapter 171: Whitefall XXVII


    I was missing something. The thought and accompanying feeling persisted as I walked through the castle halls in a daze, and took my seat on a reclined cushion in the nobless section. My fathers plan and the subsequent reveal of his intended abdication nailed that reality to the ground. On the surface, it seemed like a good thing. He clearly didnt favor the nonhumans and saw their integration into society as a necessary irritation, but as far as I could tell, he wasnt actively working to erode their future endpoint or undercut them. Which was all better than I could have hoped for.


    So, the obvious possibility. King Gil was lying, or at the very least, holding something back. He held the title of Oathbreaker for a reason. Id watched him lie on grander stages with far higher stakes. He was a master of his craft, but he wasnt perfect. There were certain tells, some small indicators that he was twisting the truth. And I was familiar enough with all of them I was sure I would at least suspect it.


    And I didnt. His admission that he wished to grow old with Mother had felt entirely authentic. He even seemed ashamed of it, which was both ridiculous and entirely the sort of thing hed feel embarrassed to admit.


    This entire ordeal was a struggle from the start. As Wirell would say, nothing worthwhile is achieved without strife. So where was the strife? Where was the looming enemy in the distance? The untold tragedy lurking right around the corner.


    Mmm. Shall we begin, my prince? my attendant asked. Lady Maeve was supposedly a high-society artist who had experience with simple artistic inscriptions, though her appearance alone seemed to push against that notion. With the long cloak and hood, wrists and fingers burdened by the entire stock of an upscale jeweler, she looked far more like a soothsayer or charlatan than any artist Id met.


    I was tempted to wait for Annette, but as Id made her wait this morning, I had a feeling shed likely be taking her time. It wasnt pettiness or passive aggression. Just my sisters way of conveying that she was an equal, and would not be available at her brothers beck and call.


    Sure. I said, leafing through several pages of diagrams, ensuring the most useful remained at the top and the less pressing near the bottom. Id intended to do this for a whileand many of the diagrams were scrawled on flattened and dried plant matter Id used instead of paper when inspiration struck during my stint in the sanctum. Others were newer concepts and ideas that occurred to me on the ride home after the encounter with the drephin.


    One Id scrawled down before I left my rooms and placed at the top. Id checked in on Eckor before Id left, and as he was still awake, had a moment to ask him about the dual-cast Id witnessed while we were waylaid. Unfortunately, there was no secret or ancient techniqueor at least, not one he shared with me. It seemed to be an innate ability, something hed always had and couldnt fully explain. But when I pressed, the manner with which he managed it was fascinating. He drew in mana, filtering it all into his void element, wrapped the electricity mana around it as if the void element was a swaddled infant, then simply released it.


    When I tried to do something similar, all I managed was a miscast that nearly burnt poor Eckors room down and mine along with it.


    But it gave me an idea. If I could cast one element through an inscription, while casting the second through normal means, it was possible I could achieve the same effect. The timing would be tricky, as would achieving similar levels of mana concentrationwind was naturally weaker than standard fire, let alone dantalion flame, so itd likely require some trial and error to achieve.


    Plus, there was plenty of canvas to work with. The underside of my right arm was more or less bare, save for a few of the large chest inscriptions that spilled over my shoulder slightly.


    I held the sheaf of papers out to her and she took them wordlessly and turned aside. I braced myself for her reaction. There wasnt a small amount of work to be done, and the inscription method itself was devilishly tricky. More problematic was the waiting period. A talented inscriber in the enclave could likely do this sort of work in a matter of hours, but the inscriber would have to be a mix of confident and profoundly irresponsible to do so. There were laws in the enclave that restricted how many inscriptions one could receive in a day, as they needed to not only be near perfect in their individual designs, but perfectly in tune with the others. If they werent well, Id heard plenty of horror stories.


    It would all come down to how competent she was.


    Whichwhat in Elphions name was she doing?


    Lady Maeve had arranged the various diagrams across the floor in the shape of a vast rectangle. It painted something of a manic picture, but what drew the eye was the candle-size flame emitting from her thumb as she crouched down, brandishing open flame directly above my diagrams. Before I could say anything, she withdrew a tiny pipe from the pouch at her waist, lit it with her flame and puffed out a series of large rings. I recognized the scent of vurseng and something else.


    We dont have to rush this, if you need time to rest and look over the additions, I said, glancing at the smoking pipe.


    Maeve scowled, her attention suddenly spotlight-focused on me. Why would I be tired?


    Uh.


    Is it perhaps, because I was asked to apply my craft in an exotic manneran application in which the slightest mistake can cause catastrophic consequences? On the crown prince, no less? The words came out with the explosion of an outburst, and she appeared as surprised that shed said it as I was to hear it.


    I stood from the cushion and offered a shallow bow. I apologize for the position Ive put you in. The work Ive commissioned is of vital importance, for the safety and continuation of the kingdom.


    When I rose, her features softened. Instead of commenting on her lapse, she seemed to move on, entirely fixated on the diagrams on the floor. At least you are taking this seriously. These all serve very specific purposes. Theres nothing overly ambitious that would overstrain your aura-center, considering the rest of your inscriptions, and youve taken the aspect of balance into account.


    Of course. I said wryly, glancing over the diagrams. Im fully invested in avoiding a pointless death. Are you a magician?


    I wasnt sure how else she would have been able to understand them.


    Maeve blew out a cloud of smoke and stared at the diagrams through it as it cleared, then nodded. As many of these are modifications to what you already have, and the designs arent terribly complicated, this is doable. Assuming you have little else to do today.


    Today?


    My confidence waned. Uh. It may not appear complicated at first glance, but the application process and ensuring the proper saturation of ink is a little more involved than it appears, to say nothing of testing the connections. Especially if youve never done this with the mana-infused ink before.


    Maeve stared at me, dead serious as she removed her glove, revealing a long black spiral of demonic text so complex looking it made my head spin. I awoke to my element young. A bit too young. My mother forbade me from talking about it, let alone putting it into practice.


    The gift atrophied. I realized. It was a tragic story, and far too common. It also explained why she was the only artist in Whitefall who had any experience in the area.


    Maeve nodded. When I started trying again, mostly for my amusement, I found I couldnt manifest a single spark. Her eyes flicked to me. And looked into other avenues.


    That she was effectively self-taught evinced commitment. And perhaps, a touch of madness. Suddenly, the vurseng use and the dark bags under her eyes made a great deal of sense.


    Inscription was a complex art. But the infernals in the enclave had done the heavy lifting, establishing the initial balanced network. Id been prepared to do it myself and had taken no minor effort studying the art. Considering the confidence shed displayed, and her personal success, I decided to let her try. My fear of burning a single reset was far outpaced by my fear of walking into Wirells strife unprepared. If it went catastrophically wrong, Id give my apologies to the black beast, and carry out the work on my inscriptions personally.


    An acceptable risk.


    Okay.


    This will be unpleasant, Maeve warned. And by unpleasant, I mean extraordinarily painful. Please refrain from screaming in my ear, your grace.


    Maeve went to work, her shawl swirling as she moved back and forth from the table. The speed at which she worked spoke to a lifetime of experience. She was completely focused on each jab of the needle, and didnt bother pausing and dabbing away the blood from what was effectively a small open wound, as the infernals had done. Slowly, drop after drop, a small pool of blood formed on the ground beneath my arm.


    It was painful.


    Nothing compared to being eaten, or torn apart, or tortured, but I could see why the infernals didnt do it this way. Enduring so much of it in one sitting was harsh. Brutal. To the point that I began to wonder if scheduling my meeting with Annette here had been a good idea, and considered sending a runner after her to delay.


    Which of course, was exactly when she arrived.


    My little sister froze at the doorway, her impassive eyes taking in my reddening skin and trailing to the blood on the floor. The tray of pastries and fruit in her hands trembled and threatened to drop.


    I waved and managed a small smile. Not very appetizing, is it?


    Lady Maeve paused long enough to give the expected curtsy, then returned to her work.


    Annette seemed to take my observation as a challenge and strode in with her head high, unfazed, or at least doing a convincing rendition of it. A nearby servant pulled up a chair for her and arranged a small table between us. She smoothed the frilly back of her gray dress and sat, plucking a grape from the tray. Breakfast and a show. A macabre one, at that. Visit  for the best novel reading experience


    I chuckled. Nothing shocks you, aye, little sister?


    We can both thank father for that. Smoothly, Annette slipped me a folded up note. I struggled to open it one-handed.


    Sera is incensed at your return. Ordinarily, I wouldnt expect her to act on it. But Ive never seen her in such a state, hence, I cannot say for certain. Be careful. She doesnt have many resources to draw from nor friends, but she has had ample time to plan.


    After reading it a second time, I crumpled up the note and called the spark. The violet flame incinerated the parchment. It floated for a moment before I extinguished it, then fell to the floor.


    Thanks, I said, lost in thought.


    She does.


    Annette processed that, then seemed to hesitate. You yourself have two elements. Wind and demon flame.


    Correct.


    Before your awakening She tapped her fingers on the table. Did they talk to you?


    I struggled to understand what she was asking. Like, a mental voice?


    Yes.


    It was a strange question, and not at all one Id expected from Annette. I thought back to the voice Id heard before fixing the dimension gate, then later, when I was searching for a way through the barrier. That had been a voiceone I still didnt understand the meaning ofbut both incidents that occurred long after my initial awakening, amid a host of complicating factors.


    They didnt, I said.


    You took a long time to answer.


    Because its not always clear cut, I replied. Magic isnt straightforward, or objective. It can be chaotic and unpredictable, and sometimes things happen you cant explain. Both of my awakenings involved violence. Events that disturbed me or threatened my life. And while I found no examples of this in any text, infernal or otherwise, both of my elements were tied to key emotions, and forcing myself to experience those emotions again was the only way I got a handle on them.


    That sounds awful, Annette murmured.


    Dont get me wrongI corrected myself, considering everything that had happenedIm grateful for the power I hold. Its helped me keep my friends alive, saved my life on more than one occasion, but in the moment? Yeah. It was kind of awful.


    Its your move, Annette said, gaze firmly fixed on the koss board.


    I couldnt escape the feeling that shed asked for a reason. Why do you ask?


    Ask what?


    Are you hearing voices, Annette?


    My sister started. For just a second she looked scared, and small, and vulnerable, and all I wanted to do was fix whatever was troubling her. Then the cold blue pools of her eyes froze over. No. Certain accounts in the library detail magicians conferring with the elements before they receive the gift, and as weve established, the library is a dubious source. I was curious if there was any truth to it.


    Bullshit.


    Of course.


    I had to let it slide. If Annette clammed up, Id get nothing out of her by pushing. But there was no way I was letting it go. Part of me wondered if this was the origin of her phobia, the sudden shift that occurred a few years from now when going outside the castle seemed to physically pain her, and she was more often than not holed up in her rooms.


    At the very least, it was going to the top of the list of things I needed Vogrin to investigate. He was ancient, and his magical senses were infinitely more attuned than mine. If something malevolent was haunting Annette, he was the best resource I had.


    We continued to play in silence, the gentle clink of pieces the only noise in the sterile room. Shed been playing koss less, and it showed. I was even winning for a while, before I lost traction and it ended in a stalemate.


    I sat back. Thought I had you for a minute.


    Youre better than I expected.


    I sighed. Youve heard some variation of the things Ive done. Probably presented as heroic tales, or deeds of valor. Truth is, little sister, Ive spent most of it scared shitless. For good reason. Ive almost died I started counting, then gave up. Annette watched curiously, giving me her full attention as she listened. A lot. Brushes with deaththey have a way of showing you how small you truly are. Most of the time Ive barely made it through. Ive made mistakes and other people have paid the price. Ego is a luxury I can no longer afford. So if you have advice for me, Ill listen.


    Annette blinked several times, oddly sheepish at the compliment. Oh. Youre answering my question.


    I thought back to Cephurs recommendation. An advisor in my camp thinks the best way to deal with Sera would be to knock her down a peg in a martial contest. Play nice, then definitively shut her down when she tries to escalate beyond a friendly spar.


    Are you even capable of that? Annette asked. Shed been watching Sera spar since she was small. And even though our sister lacked experience, she was a force to be reckoned with.


    Probably, I hedged, not wanting to sound too full of myself. But I think its the wrong approach.


    Disastrously wrong, Annette agreed, leaning forward, no longer paying attention to me as she rambled out loud. For starters, Seras vindictive. If shes embarrassed the way youre describingespecially publiclyshe wont forget. Shell stew on it and bide her time. I know she seems impulsive, but she can be patient as a stone. Youd be better off paying the taster to poison her supper and pinning it on a servant.


    Id been following her until the last part. Annette.


    Does it look like Im joking? Annette asked, stone-faced.


    You never look like youre joking.


    Annette gripped the table. Listen to me. From the time she was born, Father was grooming Sera as an heir. Not a military leader, not a princess, she spat the word like an epithet. An heir. She had all his attention, his guiding hand. His favor. Only to have it all ripped away.


    When he started taking me seriously.


    I rubbed my face. Yeah. Makes sense shes angry.


    Its not your fault. Seras smart enough to know that, she just doesnt care. We have fought wars over less. The children of kings have killed each other over less. Annette said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. But his favor has shifted. If his problem daughter were to suddenly die of mysterious circumstances, he would look the other way.


    You really believe that? I asked, more than a little troubled. It was hard to tell how objective Annette was being, and how much of her opinion stemmed from personal bias. It hadnt felt like King Gil was giving me preferential treatment, more that Id earned his respect.


    Yes, Annette said simply. But there was a darkness in her expression I didnt like. On some level, this felt personal. They were never on grand terms, but this was different. Had their relationship really degenerated so much in my absence?


    Im not killing my sister.


    As much as I wanted to say that, I stopped myself. To do so would be a complete rejection of Annettes advice, something Id just promised not to do.


    Even if I didnt like it.


    Lets put fratricide down as the solution for the worst possible scenario. I said finally. If thats off the table, what else do I have?


    Annette picked up a koss piece and began reversing through the game move by move. Youd need to earn her trust. Her respect. Make her feel part of things, all at the same time. Seras always been an outsider and she wears that isolation like a badge of honor, so it would be tricky.


    She slid my red bannerman back to its starting position. And youd need to do it all without the slightest hint of agenda or manipulation.


    Not a small order. I wanted to ask Annette more about King Gil specifically. Whether she thought his sudden about face was genuine, or if there was more to it, but before I could, the door swung open and Lady Maeve returned. She returned to her work immediately, the scent of vurseng following her like a cloud as the first needle plunged into my arm.


    Like I saidAnnette had already rotated the board and moved her red cavalry unit up firstSupper would be easier.

 Chapter 172: Whitefall XXVIII

    Chapter 172: Whitefall XXVIII


    Finalizing the inscriptions took most of the day. While Id had my doubts about Maeve, she seemed more than competent. A little too competent.


    Thank you for your time, Lady Maeve. I stood and stretched my arm. It was wrapped in cloth, which she sternly instructed me to leave on for at least a half day. The material was differentfibrous instead of the transparent wrap the enclave inscribers used, but it served the same purpose: giving the pathways time for the ink to set and the mana to circulate free from outside contaminants.


    While a large swath of her competency was believably attributed to a lifetime studying the arts, small tells conveyed a different story.


    When I sought out my first set of inscriptions in the enclave, low on resources and looking for someone who wouldnt immediately run to report my movements to the council, and most importantly, spread word of the suicide inscription on my chestI found my first inscriber in the shadier side of the enclave. Something of a condensed Topside, the many dens of debauchery were packed into the equivalent of a city block. That first inscriber, while experienced, was used to smaller, more intricate projectsprobably inscribing the sorts of things the council would have frowned onand for my purposes, he was more than adequate.


    Only later, when I went for additions to an inscriber Ralakos recommended just before entering the sanctum, did the key differences become clear. The new ink was applied with consummate precision, creating contoured lines more pleasant to the eye, and subtle gradations of shading. New addendums were merged onto the prior foundation, and after some convincing, the inscriber smoothed out and blended the original work flawlessly, somehow doing better work faster.


    While Maeve was not quite as skilled as the second inscriber, she most certainly belonged in the second camp, rather than the first. Talent could explain the quality of the work, but not the speed and efficiency that accompanied it.


    She had almost certainly done this more regularly than she let on. Probably for quite some time, during a period when a human carrying out an infernal ritual would be ridiculed at best, imprisoned at worst.


    And now Lady Maeve was here, openly plying her once-forbidden craft on the Kings son. It was both satisfying and humbling to see how quickly things were changing. In recent years Id come to reconsider much of my mothers advice with a jaded lens, but one piece stood above the rest.


    Enlightenment is a beacon to the spirit. Give them guidance. Share your vision. And you will find them capable of remarkable change.


    On some level Id always wanted to believe that, but it was far easier now that it was being demonstrated before my eyes. My father hadnt taken the soft-handed approach my mother probably imagined would accompany that advice, but hed guided them in his own way. Paid dearly for it. And now, things were changing.


    I walked through the castle proper, still attempting to reconcile the smoking, blood-soaked ruin of my memories with the bustling figurehead itd returned to. The conversation with Annette still troubled me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I sought my mothers counsel. She understood relationships on an almost scientific level, and if anyone could advise me on a less murderous avenue of handling Sera, it would be her.


    A wave of bittersweet nostalgia swept over me as I approached her quarters. The last time Id been here was when I said goodbye.


    The Queens Guard was posted at the door, and offered small smiles as I approached. I recognized them as Rowan and Valai. Along with their duties guarding the queen, they were loyal and stalwart, supporting her far beyond their station. The queens sickness and subsequent death affected them both profoundly. The last time I saw Valai, she was shipping off for the plains, a campaign from which she would never return. My final memory of Rowan was his face, reduced to a bloody pulp as my father rained down fists and fury in the courtyard.


    I never knew why they fought, or exactly what Rowan said to elicit such a violent reaction. But it wasnt much of a jump to guess that it had something to do with my fathers absence at her deathbed.


    Been a long time, Cairn. Rowan hesitated. Or should I be using your title?


    Seeing as how you made no secret of how often you used to change my damn diaper, I think we can let the title slide. I grasped his arm and pulled him in for an embrace, then did the same with Valai.


    Hello Cairn. She gave Rowan a superior look. Told you he wouldnt have changed that much.


    If anything, hes friendlier, Rowan mused.


    Changed how? I looked between them.


    Rowan cleared his throat, awkwardly. Uh. Some of the gossip circling around your return painted you in an unfamiliar light.


    A fiery, violet light. Valai poked at me and grinned.


    Elphion. People really never stopped talking. I groaned. We were under attack. And for that matter, I gave them a chance to surrender. Multiple chances.


    No need to justify yourself to us, boy. Rowan waved my explanation away, and a bit of steel crept into his expression. We werent always on protective detail. He looked over my shoulder then, eyes tracing up and down Alten. Speaking of which. Hes with you?


    I introduced Alten, and while Rowan and Valai were clearly curious about his armor and especially the sword, they kept their silence. But despite the genuine pleasantries and conversation, it quickly grew obvious that they werent inviting me in as they normally would have.


    Well, Im here to see my mother, if shes awake and available, I finally stated outright.


    They exchanged glances.


    Maya smiled gently and took my hand. Youve already given me the best preparation I could ask for. Patching up you and Jorras stubborn hides almost every day in the sanctum was more valuable field experience than you could imagine.


    I nodded, though it hadnt escaped me that shed left Bell out of the statement. Sometimes multiple times a day.


    Indeed.


    A question lingered in my mind. One that would either change nothing, or drive a dagger into my gut. It was better to leave it. I asked, anyway. Is she sending anyone else away, Maya? Or just me?


    Maya said nothing. She didnt have to. From the way her lips pressed together, and her tail snaked up to curl around her wrist, I had my answer.


    Sorry, she said.


    No. I put my hands on my hips and exhaled, long and unsteady. No, you are completely fine. Thanks for taking care of her. Little late, but Im about to go out on the town anyway. Have a beer with that elf, see about finding his wife.


    Elf? Maya asked.


    Uh, yeah. Rock guy. I mimicked an object bouncing off the side of my head and ricocheting away.


    Ah.


    Invite you along, but Im guessing youre tied up here? For the first time since returning from my exile, I found that I really didnt want to be alone.


    Yes. Maya smiled apologetically. Once the queen no longer requires my services, Lady Melody was insistent on showing me the gardens. Apparently with the mana illumination, theyre quite striking in the evenings.


    Damn woman, undercutting me at every turn. I shook a mock fist and continued to walk backwards. This is her retaliation for the dance last night.


    And what a dance it was. Mayas smile slowly faded, expression growing serious. Cairn. Are you sure youre okay?


    Yep.


    Youll take Alten with you to Topside?


    I turned and waved behind me as Alten followed, elevating my voice so she could hear. Alten, you coming with me to Topside?


    Oh, yes. Alten cracked his knuckles, his expression dark. A day in the palace and Im already spoiling for a fight. No place better.


    He says yes. Apparently, hes spoiling for a fight! I said over my shoulder.


    That doesnt make me feel better, Maya grumbled after us.


    In truth, Maya had missed something. Willfully or otherwise. That something being, that my mother had never turned me away. Her guard had, but never at her orders. Even when things were at their worst, and her skin was gray, and she couldnt so much as lift a cup to her lips.


    But it didnt matter. Id blunted my reaction, but I hadnt lied. Id long ago accepted the possibility of being alienated from my familyLillian, Maya, my mother and sistersit mattered little how they felt about me. Or in Lillians case, if she even knew me. So long as they lived to see the better world I was trying to secure.


    Uh. You know I was joking earlier? About fighting? Alten said. He seemed uncharacteristically wary.


    I got that.


    Just the look on your face.


    Hm?


    Never mind, Alten muttered, and spoke no more of it.

 Chapter 173: Whitefall XXIX

    Chapter 173: Whitefall XXIX


    I wanted to punch something. Preferably something soulless that wouldnt crumble after the first strike. Giant serpent, or drake, something reptilian. But as we were in a civilization center, with very few lizards to speak of thanks to the climate, the feeling simmered, growing more palpable as the minutes passed.


    A quick stop at the rooms later, Id applied earthen chalk to my hair and changed back into a set of worn travelers clothes. Theyd blend much better. My first delve into the district had been a flashy and intentional show of face. There were advantages to that approachfewer muggings, for onebut gathering information required more subtlety. A single flash of my golden hair and royal trappings would send the most useful sorts running, and place anyone I was meeting with under scrutiny for some time. There were countless eyes in Topside that never wandered, and for this, the longer I could stay out of their purview, the better.


    I knew there was only a slim chance Kierans missing wife would lead me anywhere. At worst, hed help paint the picture of the nonhuman side of Whitefall, the issues they were facing and the temperature of the populace at large, get a sense of how my fathers decrees worked in practice.


    Maybe wed find her. But people often went missing in a city this size. Some of the many reasons were nefarious, for certain. Others were as pedestrian as a man or woman who simply tired of family lifesad as it was.


    Regardless of the reason, Kieran needed help he wasnt getting, to the point he was throwing rocks at royals. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Before, I would have handed this off to someone else. Considered it below my station.


    But Id come to realize the truth.


    Nothing was below my station. That was the role of a king. Belaying or delegating responsibilities simply because they were small or potentially amounted to little in the grand scheme was folly. If there was a larger threat, and someone who specialized in investigation and information gathering, I might defer to them.


    Right now, though, the only person who fit that bill was Thaddeus. Who I trusted about as far as I could throw him.


    Suitably dressed down? I asked Alten, who looked far more comfortable now that he was clad in a tunic.


    Still looks like theres gold to your name, Alten mused, putting a hand to his chin. But a little less like your daddy gave it to you. Slump the shoulders a bit. And dont smirk.


    What? Plenty of people in Topside smirk. Its just below glaring and leering on the common-expressions-in-Topside list, I said.


    Things as they are, you could be the son of a wealthy trader looking for an investment opportunity. Now smirk.


    Puzzled, I did as he asked, checking myself in the mirror, and noticed little difference.


    See? Noble in disguise, clear as day. Im telling you. Its the smirk, Alten reiterated.


    I adjusted my shoulders and made a mental note not to smirk, irritating as it was. Then threw open my bedroom window, stepping through and out to the other side. After a taking a moment to make sure the ground beneath wasnt perilously uneven, I dropped thirty span, strengthening my legs as I landed, leaving twin imprints in the grass and mud.


    Hells. If Id had magic in my previous life, I probably would have been out of the castle more than I was in it. This was so much easier.


    I created a horizontal aegis, cushioned by wind, and looked up at Alten.


    Your turn. I used the wind to carry my words to him. Jump.


    His already wide eyes bugged out further. Not on your gods damned life. Use rope like a normal person, he hissed, gripping the windowsill tightly.


    Alten wasnt trying to be loud, but his voice still carried. I looked around, spotting the telltale torchlight of a patrolling guard. The prior night had been different because Id had Cephur with me, a seasoned ranger, along with a larger group. As reasonable as my father was, I doubted hed look kindly on me going out into Whitefall more or less on my own.


    Who keeps coils of rope in their room? I said, still using wind magic to carry my voice.


    People who sneak out at night, Alten shot back.


    The torchlight in the distance loomed, and before I could fully consider leaving Alten behind, hed climbed out through the window and part of the way down, deftly working his fingertips into gaps in the stone and maintaining a steady decline. I shifted the aegis beneath him, ready to catch him if he fell, but the man was clearly accustomed to climbing and my interference was unnecessary.


    Almost as an afterthought, Alten jumped down the last few span and landed next to the aegis. He dubiously placed a foot on it, testing it under his weight. Springy.


    There were two types of taverns in Topside: the kind where folk went to vent, celebrate and socialize, and the kind where drunkenness itself was the goal.


    This was the latter.


    And for the moment, at least, Kieran was nowhere to be seen.


    I took a seat at the bar, noting the lack of reaction from the barkeep when I sat down. He seemed oddly preoccupied, and frustrated with the not insignificant balancing act of managing a bar this size on his own. A few heads turned as Alten wandered in, but they dismissed him just as quickly as he took a seat at the back.


    The bartender dropped a full mug of ale and swore as it splashed everywhere.


    Short-staffed? I asked.


    Something like that. He toweled up the ale with irritation, sparing me an errant look. Gonna be a minute.


    Take your time. I waited for him to finish cleaning the mess, then added, Im looking for Kieran.


    The barkeep paused, then wiped his hands on his apron. Whaddya want with him?


    Supposed to meet him here. I kept the explanation clipped, but honest. Folk in Topside protected their own. If I was too cagey, hed assume the worst. About his wife.


    He hire you? Gods know he doesnt have a gold to his name, if thats the angle.


    The bartender seemed to be a friend of Kierans, or at the very least, a protective acquaintance.


    More like I owe him and need to make good, I said, making it clear I wasnt looking for compensation.


    The barkeep nodded, leaning back as he considered that, then drew a fresh pint of ale from the nearby tap. He placed it in front of me with a thud. If thats the case, safe to consider the debt canceled.


    Slowly, ane icy feeling coiled in the base of my spine. The same feeling that gripped me in the sanctum when danger was near. I took a long pull from the mug. The ale tasted like water. Dead?


    A shadow crossed the bartenders face. Will be soon, if hes not already. Not sure if youve noticed, but hes not exactly been the rational sort, as of late. People been lax, given his circumstances, but hes been stepping on a lot of toes. Last I heard, he went to Schism. And if he got uppity with them well. Small wonder he didnt show up for his shift this afternoon.


    Despite having spent a considerable amount of time in Topside, Id never heard the name.


    Guessing you wouldnt be able to tell me about them? Or where to find them? I tried.


    The bartender shook his head. Cant help you. Got a wife of my own. If I died, shed kill me.


    Understandable.


    I placed a silver rod on the counter and rose from my stool, straightening it absentmindedly as the barkeep pocketed the payment. Thanks for the ale.


    My thoughts were elsewhere as I exited the tavern. So far I was out a good amount of silver, with little to nothing to show for it other than a bad feeling that Id never see Kieran again. Problem was, this was more or less a dead end. I could continue looking into Schismbut the criminal organizations common in Topside were notoriously flaky and difficult to pin down. No one overstepped; no one wanted to attract too much attention and take the risk of drawing the kings ire.


    Alten fell into step next to me. If were gonna keep doing shit like this, we really need to work out a nonverbal communication system more robust than you blowing in my ear.


    Is there a problem? I asked, still half-absorbed in my thoughts.


    Alten kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. Could be. Because whatever you said in that bar netted us another tail.

 Chapter 174: Whitefall XXX

    Chapter 174: Whitefall XXX


    I paused near a blacksmiths open forge, taking a moment to study the cheaply made weapons on display. I saw him through the muddy reflection of a swordthe man in the cowl, seeming considerably less drunk than he had before. When did I draw his attention? I asked blandly. When I sat down at the bar?


    He definitely clocked you then, but no. Towards the end, Alten confirmed.


    When I asked about Schism.


    Guessing you didnt find your elf, Alten said.


    No. I shook my head and continued to walk. But Ive got a name. Schism. Mean anything to you?


    Alten tripped, and I caught him, laughing to cover the lapse. His expression had descended into the same stiff demeanor from the night Id met him. Really stuck my foot in my mouth, asking for more action.


    Bad news? I asked.


    Only know what Ive heard. They rolled in a few years back. Took over every syndicate, gray guild, and small time group in a matter of months. Supposedly it was mostly non-violent buyouts and payoffs, but the degenerates who dug their heels in got hit. Hard.


    Any guesses why the crown hasnt intervened? I asked. Gil had been methodical about cutting down any group that got to be enough to threaten the monarchy from within, and this definitely sounded like it qualified.


    Altens brow furrowed. Could be a few different reasons. Since that initial takeover, they havent done anything too flashy or eye-catching. Seem happy to run things from behind the scenes, and their consolidation has done a lot to keep the general order. Theyre so low-key many doubt that they exist. Plus, theyre demi-friendly. Might be why your elf went to them. Common knowledge that they run most of the charity kitchens around these parts, and fucking with those is a quick ticket to an early grave, so they have the favor of the people as well.


    It lined up well. If Schism was running the Topside underworld in a mannerly fashion, and were as difficult to track down as Alten believed, they were exactly the sort of inconvenience the king would overlook. As far as Whitefall was concernedand especially Topsidethere would always be crime, in some form or another. The importance was delineating threats to the hierarchy from nuisances that would always exist. And from the sound of it, Schism had almost done the crown a favor.


    But with their reputation, they have a unique pipeline of nonhumans.


    It wasnt a fight I wanted. I needed to focus on Thoth, and after her, Ragnarok. But seeing as Kieran himself was gone, and assuming he was telling the truth that his wife wasnt the only nonhuman in Whitefall that had gone missing, I needed to have a sit-down with Schism.


    Sooner, rather than later. But first, there was Alten to consider. A nearby horse pulling a wagon neighed, throwing up dust in our path. I squinted through it.


    Why dont you head back?


    The hells?


    I gave him a smile. Im about to light a fire and see what the smoke draws in. If theyre as connected as you say, theyll figure me out soon enough. They wont cross that line. But this is going to be incendiary. And depending on how vengeful theyre feeling, a favored bodyguard is a solid target.


    Alten stared at me. Keeping you safe is literally my job. Why are you trying to protect me?


    I shook my head. Avoiding unnecessary losses. Worst case, I get roughed up, sent packing.


    My bodyguard rounded on me, halting in my path. A vein pulsed in his neck. This sounds like the stupid shit nobles always say right before they bite off more than they can chew. No.


    I sighed. Id recruited Alten because I owed him. If I took a blunter, harsher tack, it might drive him away, but only at the cost of damaging our future relationship. But the reason I owed him so much was the same reason he refused to leave. Loyalty.


    Fine. But you need to do exactly as I say.


    Whats the plan? Alten asked.


    Id gotten so caught up in all this, Id almost forgotten why I came here. Absentmindedly, I looked over my shoulder for the girl and found she was gone, her bowl of potage seized by another girl of a similar size who sat in her place and shoveled the stew into her mouth, hunched over it protectively.


    Odd.


    The new arrival followed me as I untied my apron and placed it on the counter, never straying far. Alten caught my eye over a boiling pot and mouthed the words Two minutes.


    I nodded. But when I attempted to head towards the front, he caught my shoulder and redirected me towards the back.


    That way? I asked.


    No answer. Just another nudge. But it was not a particularly violent one. Id guessed that if they spent so much time and resources maintaining this place, they wouldnt start something in it, and it was a relief to see that Id guessed correctly.


    In a matter of moments, he guided me back into an alley that stank of grease and stagnant water. My follower wasnt giving me guidance, so I assumed that wed arrived. I held my hands out at my side as I turned. I can explain


    There was a flash of metal as the cestus-wrapped fist snapped toward me. I had a split second to tighten my stomach as it hit. It barely mattered. The man was extraordinarily strong, and it was all I could do not to vomit as I fell to a knee. I told myself, regardless of the significant pain, this was a good thing. Theyd figured out who I was. Hed used something blunt, rather than a knife.


    He leaned down and whispered in my ear. This is your only warning. Fuck off.


    Before or after? I grunted.


    After what


    The demonic gauntlet finished its transformation. I slammed my hardened left arm into his gut, lifting him almost an inch off his feet. He stayed up but staggered, grabbing at the wall. Which put me in a precarious position. The man was big enough that I needed to put him down, quickly. My normal strength likely wouldnt do the job. But hitting him in the face with my gauntlet might kill him.


    Whatever my suspicions were, so far all Id seen of them was that they fed the needy and didnt like outsiders.


    An idea struck. It would require the use of my still-healing inscriptions, but it required little mana, and it wouldnt kill him.


    After that, I said, and lighting up the pathways, snapped my fingers next to his ear. A dome of air the size of a melon expanded around my fist. He yelped and fell to the ground, blood leaking from his ear. The inscriptions intended use was a quick way to expand the dantalion flame in an urban environment, where I didnt have the luxury of grass. But this worked just as well.


    I loomed over him, allowing the violet flame to overtake my hand. Guessing you wont talk to me. They wouldnt have sent you, otherwise.


    The man closed his eyes and accepted his fate. A soldier to the end.


    Okay.


    I let the flame die and left him there. Then returned to the kitchens, washing the dirt and blood off my hands as I retied my apron and picked up my ladle from where Id left it next to Alten. My bodyguard was sampling the new batch of potage. He wrinkled his nose. They really need some salt. His eyes slid to me. Two minutes even. Cutting it close. This stew would have burned if I had to pull your ass out of the fire. Then, after a second, You really took down that guy that fast?


    I shrugged. Cheated a little. Refill me.


    It was three hours, and two more incapacitated thugs piled up in the alley before the last person I expected to see walked through the front of the tent. The red-skinned infernal stared at me, seething despite his neutral gaze, before he tied on an apron and took a serving tray to Alten, serving the people alongside me.


    Kilvius.


    The infernal put a hand on my arm as our paths met. Well talk once this place is cleaned and closed up for the night. Just like old times.


    I swallowed and nodded. Id told myself I hadnt had the time to see him before I left the enclave. But maybe that wasnt it. Maybe Id just lacked the courage. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter 175: Whitefall XXXI

    Chapter 175: Whitefall XXXI


    The cloud cover had receded and the stars were out by the time the charity kitchen closed down for the evening, the last few patrons filing out with full bellies and squinting eyes. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Kilvius strained the water from the rag and cleaned a cheaply made bowl with calm, counterclockwise motions as we worked side by side, as wed done many times at Mayas small home in the enclave. He treated each receptacle and surface with careful care and focus.


    When we did this previously, usually after a long day of study or training in the enclave and a filling meal, an odd sense of tranquility would wash over me. It wasnt that I particularly enjoyed cleaning dishes, but Kilvius didthere was something about the ritual of it that appealed to himand that simple domestic satisfaction was contagious.


    I felt none of that tranquility now.


    Id had time to think, in the hours since Kilvius entered. At first it made little sense that he was here. Id seen him in the enclave shortly after repairing the dimension gate, his son Agarin on his shoulders. But now that I thought about it, I wasnt completely certain it was him. He was far away, in the middle of a bustling crowd, and I was under an enormous amount of pressure.


    Does Maya know youre here? I asked. Kilviuss rag stopped, a single drop of water hanging precariously at the bottom.


    No, Kilvius said flatly. And if youve ever cared for me, youll keep that between us. With that he continued to wash the bowl, leaving me with more questions than before. It wasnt a huge stretch to connect the dots. From what little I knew of his background, his wifeNethtarihad pulled him onto the straight and narrow. Insistently. Their relationship and family had formed in the aftermath, and as far as I knew, Kilvius had never strayed.


    At least, until now.


    If I was right, Persephonethe de facto ruler of the enclaves underworldran Schism. Beyond the retrospectively glib name, it was the only possibility that made sense. Kilvius wouldnt have run off from the familiarity of the enclave and joined up with some random crime syndicate in Whitefall. It was much more likely that hed fallen back in with Persephone, who subsequently sent him here to work with the group in some capacity.


    Clever move on her part. But Persephone was always clever.


    My thoughts turned to Maya, so close by, yet completely unaware that her father was here. Shed probably love to see you.


    You have no idea what youre talking about.


    Kilvius.


    The bowl in the infernals red hand clattered to the floor, and he gripped the basin, staring into the distance. I didnt approve of the direction my daughter wished to take her life and she deemed my guidance unwarranted and unnecessary. There was an argument. And despite my many attempts to mend the resulting estrangement, we havent spoken since.


    Oh.


    For the not insignificant time Id lived in the enclave, Maya and Kilvius had never argued. It wasnt Kilviuss style. As fathers went, he was the opposite of mine. You wanted to listen to him purely based on the softness in how he spoke, for fear of missing a single word, because he never wasted them. I couldnt imagine him arguing with anyone, let alone his daughter.


    Now, can we please move on. Kilviuss pale eyes bore into me. When I nodded tacitly, he returned to work.


    Persephones presence here creates something of a question. Is she trying to help, or is it a neutral reminder that she still exists?


    Wise to question the motives of a parent whose child youve thrown into peril.


    The words landed like a slap, leaving me breathless. Ididnt know how bad it would be. Is there anything I can do to make it right?


    No. Kilvius put the rag and plate aside and stood in front of me. Because if she were ever to learn you asked her to return home at my behest, our estrangement would no longer be temporary. Now. Why are you here?


    Why are you? My brow furrowed. Thought youd left this behind, grown beyond it and Persephone both.


    Maybe I got lonely. Things at home have been quiet. Kilvius snapped. If his previous comments had stung, this one tore right through me. He seemed to recognize this and straightened, some of the hostility draining out of his face. We dont know what happened to Kieran. There was an appointment he neglected to reschedule. When we followed up, it was like he never existed. Just went to sleep and fell from this plane. No one saw him leave his house, and there was nothing inside that suggested he intended to leave.


    Uh. I grimaced, still shaking off the aftershock of his earlier comment. Kieran seemed to think that nonhumans were being taken. His wife among them. Any truth to that, far as you know?


    Tracking every bad thing to happen to a demi-human residing here would be a tall order. Most folk need little excuse to invoke their baser instincts. But there is something to Kierans belief, yes. What sets these incidents apart is the bloodlessness. And therefore, the lack of trail. Kidnappings arent often clean, nor are they quiet. In most cases, someone out there sees or hears something, its only a matter of finding them. Kilvius looked troubled.


    But its been quiet, I filled in.


    Bizarrely so. He studied a blank patch of the tents canvas, lost in thought. Dozens of cases like his. Nonhumans vanishing across Topside and greater Whitefall, and yet, no ones come forward.


    Any commonalities?


    Kilvius raised an eyebrow. Other than the obvious? No.


    There was a lot to absorb. I was having trouble finding equilibrium behind the kind-hearted Kilvius I knew and this more rational, distant person. Persephone and I will need to talk once I wear the crown. Now though, whatever else youre doing for her? Its none of my business. Regardless of the source, if theres some sort of organized effort looking into who or whatever is spiriting nonhumans away, let me help. I bring a lot of resources to the table, and I can insulate you from further exposure.


    And in the interim, shine a spotlight on my head.


    What do you mean?


    So. You only get the visions if something terrible is about to happen. Sometimes its imminent, sometimes longer, Alten said.


    As far out as a month. But theyre not consistent. There will be times we could be in mortal danger and I wouldnt have a clue.


    He shifted his head from side to side. Hells, even if you hadnt paid off my indenture, I think Id have stayed with you just for that.


    Really? I asked.


    Better to know than not know. Alten scowled a little. My life would be very different if I had your gift. Would have never gotten on that boat, for one. He poked a finger into my chest, suddenly irritated. Stop pulling that shit from earlier. Dont matter how much you think you owe me. Cant protect someone who tries to ship me off somewhere safe every time it gets a little heated. Try that again and Im gone.


    Done, I sighed. Anything else?


    He studied me, hand on his chin. With the way you were talking about danger, I was already thinking of teaching you a few things. Eventually. If I liked you. But given that you were actually underselling how bad things were going to get, I think we start on that. Sooner, rather than later. It will be difficult. And you may not like me very much by the time were done.


    Ill learn everything youre willing to teach me, I said, doubting his final few words. Except for Ralakos, the best teachers Id found since waking up in the wagon were mad, eclectic, or strict. And occasionally all three. I would not throw up the white flag if Alten rubbed my nose in the dirt, especially after what Id witnessed. The man was one of the best technical fighters Id ever seen besides my father, and that was gilded company to find ones self in.


    Kilvius cleared his throat quietly, ending the aside. From Altens lingering gaze there was more he wanted to say, but what Id already revealed had answered his more pressing questions. At least for now.


    With a rap of his knuckles, Kilvius drew our attention to the map of Whitefall. There were dozens of marker stones in violet, orange, and green. This is a visual grouping of all the reports of disappearances weve received. Note my wording, he said, stroking his chin with a grim expression as he surveyed the board.


    You think theres more, Alten filled in.


    Kilvius nodded. Same as the statistics in every city. For every incident we know about, theres likely a half-dozen we dont simply because they havent been reported. People who relocated here alone, others who reported only to the city guard either out of fear, or because they didnt know how to reach us. Weve tried to spread word, widen our net, but a fraction will always fall through the cracks. So our information isat the very leastincomplete. The violet stones are infernals, green are elves, and orange are dwarves.


    I took in the board. From a glance at the multitude of green stones, it was obvious the elven folk had the highest number of disappearances, with infernals and dwarves forming a close second and distant third, respectively.


    I frowned. Does the disparity align with the demographics of nonhumans in Whitefall? From the short time since Id returned, Id seen far fewer dwarves than any other race, but the elves didnt seem to outnumber the infernals by such a staggering degree.


    Kilvius nodded approvingly. A solid thought. And, coincidentally one of the first we looked into. Though our findings are not nearly as reliable as an official census, the short answer is no. The elves outnumber the infernals by a small margin, but not nearly enough to explain the elevated number.


    Why does that matter? Alten asked, puzzled.


    Because it means whatever the source of the disappearances is, its selective. I answered, still unsettled by the sheer number of reported incidents. Theyre targeting elves and infernals first, and only occasionally grabbing up dwarves.


    I see Alten said, sounding very uncertain.


    The only upside of all this being, you and yours are probably in the clear. Kilvius indicated toward me, then rubbed at his forehead, showing hints of fatigue. I wondered how long hed been at this, and how much else he was juggling beyond it.


    Really? You dont think humans have a hand in this at all? I asked. My first thought had been the indentured servitude of House Westmore. The house was brazenly and openly exploiting a loophole to sidestep the laws. It wouldnt have surprised me if they had much grayer ventures involving nonhumans behind the scenes.


    Kilvius shook his head. Wouldnt go that far. At this stage we cant afford to rule anything out. But when it comes to prejudice, those who are furthest from the norm are generally targeted before anyone else. By that rule, infernals and dwarves get the worst of it in human cities. Elves blend in better than the rest of us. Its always been that way.


    An uncomfortable series of connections formed in my mind. There were no small number of creatures in the sanctum whosomewhat paradoxicallyposed more of a threat to stronger magicians than weaker ones. There were large treks of areas a weaker group could traverse freely with no issue, where a stronger group would be constantly harried, and drain themselves dry fighting through even a fraction of the territory.


    The explanation was a disturbingly simple one.


    Mana density, I realized.


    Kilvius pointed a finger at me, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a tired smile. Quick as always. The more weve learned, the higher the likelihood that theres some sort of infestation at the core of this. A monster, or group of monsters the source of the kidnapping.


    I shook my head. If thats true, theres not a long list of possibilities. I know humans in Whitefall seem ambivalent to the other races at best, but not to the extent theyd simply turn a blind eye if something monstrous was grabbing elves and infernals off the street.


    With a grim nod, Kilvius wrote on the gray expanse to the left of the map, composing a series of points.


    Primarily targets elves and infernals.


    Most active in the early mornings and early evenings.


    Bloodless abduction.


    Victims were either being seized too quickly to fight back, or followed the abductor willingly.


    A short list, indeed, Kilvius said.

 Chapter 176: Lillian II

    Chapter 176: Lillian II


    The hard part had always been the waiting.


    After nearly twelve years of on-the-job experience, Lillian was an old hand at the menial preparation of alchemical ingredients, her senses largely dulled to their distinctive smells. Cutting the gem wort resulted in a sour scent of bitter lemon, the knifes blade catching the fragrance and dripping onto the cutting board. The glass caps gave off a more pleasant aroma, like a budding flower under the sun, a sweet scent of earth and jasmine. The allium followed, with its pungent, oniony fragrance..


    These were the last two of many small-printed steps listed in Gunthers notes. If she followed the instructions to the letter, as she had the last time, all that was left to do was stew the mixture and reap the inevitable failure.


    There was a reason hed given up on this, despite the gray plague being both a catastrophic blight and a continual affront to their name: It simply did not produce the desired results in its current form.


    She suspected the commonality of the name bothered her father more than he let on. It was petty, yes, but not as unreasonable as it appeared. When there were outbreaks of the gray plague, her father would find himself beset by patients and relations of patients, all looking for a cure only to find little beyond palliatives that could only treat their symptoms. And during the worst bouts, which left thousands dead and far more incapacitated or injured, many of their usual patients would give Grays Apothecary a wide berth, purely based on name.This chapter is updated by


    Hed considered changing it countless times, but he was too stubborn.


    And that was not the only choice Gunthers stubbornness kept him from making.


    Lillian stared at the small crystal capsule in her hand. Its many fractals and uneven surface reflected prismatic lines and geometry onto the basement laboratorys walls, and would have been beautiful if she wasnt so worried about being caught with it. If Gunther knew she had this, he wouldnt scream at her, or rough her up as many parents in Whitefall did. More likely, he wouldnt say anything at all, allowing the air of disappointment and seething unhappiness with her decision to speak for itself.


    That was his way.


    It didnt help that from the moment shed left the alchemists shop and throughout the lengthy walk throughout the city center, shed felt like someone was watching her.


    Probably just paranoia, but unsettling just the same.


    The fact that she even had to be this worried about branching out bothered her. Lillian chafed at being mired in the past. What did it matter, if most alchemists pandered to the nobility? True, many were charlatans, marking up cheap remedies to exorbitant amounts, claiming them as universal panaceas. But if even a fraction of the tales were true, there was no shortage of good alchemists out there. It was just a matter of separating the legend from the facts.


    For that matter, she disliked the thought of simply carrying on her fathers business for the rest of her life making no real contributions. She wanted to make something meaningful, something that would transform their lives and ease the burden of the surrounding folk, just as Gunther had. She knew his methods were outdated, and that even a basic understanding of alchemy lent itself to new techniques, and more importantly, a massive quantity of highly potent ingredients that could be used to make highly effective elixirs and potions.


    One of which she now rolled absent-mindedly between her fingers. It had cost her dearly, three of the five silver rods old man Rin had invested in the cause. The rest had gone to procuring certain ingredients that may have invited unwanted questions if shed asked Gunther for them directly.


    As Lillian weighed the crystal capsule in her hand, she made her decision. She would use it to create something new, something that would help everyone in Topside once the gray plague returned in full force.


    With a deep breath, she set to work, carefully measuring out the ingredients and following the steps in her own notes. She added the crystal to the mixture, watching as it dissolved and spread its power throughout the concoction.


    The smell of the potion was unlike anything she had ever encountered before. It was dark and musky, with a hint of ozone that lingered in the air. She stirred the mixture slowly, checking the time and watching in fascination as it changed color and bubbled over the oil burner.


    Gunthers notes indicated this was the ideal outcome, but shed never managed to get the color to shiftand she suspected, neither had he.


    When she descended the basement stairs, she was met with a sight that took her breath away. The potion was no longer a murky brown, nor the intended blue, but an odd shade of purple.


    No.


    She rushed towards the table, removing the bowl from the burner and throwing open the drawers beneath the table, rummaging through them until she found what she was looking for.


    The glass jar of seemingly innocuous pebbles rattled, bouncing as Lillian slammed them on the sideboard and pried the jar open, reaching inside to withdraw a single stone with shaking hands. The jar was filled with warders stones, the one holdover from alchemy that Gunther allowed, solely because of how effective they were at estimating the viability of any liquid composition. Once they were dropped into a solution, the small spark of magic within them would activate, altering the stones color and signaling whether the surrounding substance was fit for consumption.


    Lillian held her breath, hand with the pebble hovering over the top of the mixture, and dropped the stone inside.


    For a moment, there was nothing. Then the solution flared bright red, illuminating the glass from within, and fizzling to nothingness seconds later.


    She gripped the edges of the dusty table, eyes watering, as she accepted the truth. Shed taken too long. The potion she was so eager to show her father as a proof of concept, was an abject failure. Because of the timing, she couldnt even know if it would have worked at all. Shed taken old man Rins silver, lied to her fathers face, and had nothing to show for it.


    It was over.


    Suddenly, Gunthers advice, from an evening he was drunk on ale and feeling overly chatty and sentimental, came back to her.


    We live in auspicious times, my dear. Yes, the walls are drafty, and the roads beyond them are cracked and narrow, but we are truly blessed to have them. A person can become well-learned simply from reading too many books. We can visit the herbalist, and attain ingredients of a rarity and quantity that would have taken years to attain, many of them rotting away before they were put to use with methods much more primitive than our own.


    For that, we are blessed.


    But I encourage you to remember the old ways. If you find yourself at an impasse, lacking ingredients you cant find or afford, they will serve you better than you expect. There is a world of bounty just outside the city walls.


    Lillian hesitated. There was a time she delved into the Everwood often, as frequently as every few weeks. It was part of her early training. But if she was going to find another catalyst, like the capsule, shed need to go deeper than shed ever gone before, into more dangerous territory. More troubling were the many rumors and whispers that the forest had grown considerably more dangerous. A ranger who had browsed their wares recently even gossiped about a revenant.


    But


    Her fists tightened at her sides. No. She couldnt let it go. Didnt have it in her to simply give up and move on, assume the potion would have failed regardless. Even if the chance of success was minuscule, considering the number of lives shed save if she succeeded?


    It would take time to prepare. If she truly intended to push deeper into the infamous forest, she needed to take every precaution possible.


    But her resolve was firm.


    Lillian would return to the old ways. To the Everwood.

 Chapter 177: Whitefall XXXII

    Chapter 177: Whitefall XXXII


    After parting with Kilvius and returning to the castle, I spent the rest of my evening in the royal library with Alten, risking the librarians ire with an open flame. There were mana lamps in the library. However, the dwarven technology was still a luxury in this iteration of Whitefall, and they automatically turned off late in the evening and early in the morning. When I tried to convince the librarian to cycle them back on for mefirst with charm, and when that didnt work, direct bribesI was given an earful on exactly how expensive the lamps were, and how difficult they were to charge.


    The lamp cores were charged in bulk, the large inscribed-metal mana powering modules within them removed from their ornate housing and stacked into a pile on an evening when ambient mana was densest. Ambient mana correlated with darkness, so historically, times of high mana concentration coincided with various celestial events. According to various records, something as simple as a lamp core could be charged in seconds during an eclipse. But as eclipses were rare, and only tentatively predictable, the next best time to charge the cores was the start of the lunar cycle, when the moon itself disappeared. Which effectively meant expending too much of the cores energy would ensure they expired well before their charge time.


    When I commented that this felt oddly primitive and finicky, considering the technology, the librarian gave me a strange look.


    By dwarven standards, this is relatively pedestrian, she said. Youre lucky these are new constructions.


    Oh? I was tired, and mostly being polite.


    The librarian nodded solemnly. There are still quirks, but modern dwarven engineers have traded much for the sort of clockwork efficiency we have today. People laud the old constructions and mourn the simplicity of the new, but they always seem to conveniently forget how difficult the more legendary devices were to maintain.


    Thinking back to the complicated process of repairing the dimension gate, she was probably onto something. With that in mind, I let it go. But I got a sense she wasnt too happy with the lantern on the table that served as a substitute.


    Alten sat back, worn down and bleary-eyed, tome splayed out on the table before him on the same page it had been for a while. I just read the same line five times in a row, and my mind didnt bother informing me till the last.


    Fabled Beasts of Stone and Shadow not doing it for you? I joked.


    He didnt answer at first, and returned to squinting at the text, then seemed to finally register that Id said something. The writers unnecessarily obtuse. Uses a lot of gilded words to overcomplicate simple concepts.


    Peril of the trade.


    If it was fiction, maybe. Alten scowled. This is a reference. Stop tryin to show me how smart you are and let me reference what needs to be referenced.


    Hear, hear.


    I blinked several times, trying to banish the sleep from my eyes. My volume, Beasts of the Enchanted Woodlands, wasnt much better. Id selected it in hopes Id find something to support my current theory. Whitefalls monster infestation had to come from somewhere, and considering the expanse of magical forest just beyond our walls, it wasnt a huge logical leap to conclude that the monsters in question probably came from the Everwood. What Id found was a massive swath of unorganized text that constantly flirted with verse and flowery imagery, to the point I was suspecting the academic who wrote it had aspirations for poetry.


    Once I was past the presentation, I could understand why Kilvius and whoever else was looking into this were having so much trouble narrowing it down. There wasnt really anything that fit. Id researched along similar lines before in the infernal archives, looking for the source of my doppelgnger during the enclave siege.


    Changelings were a real possibility, but their process of overtaking a host was messy, and for that matter, they were fiercely territorial with an excellent sense of smell. If multiple changelings were active in Whitefall, theyd be too busy hunting each other to enact abductions on this significant a scale.


    Jinn were rare and too cruelly focused on individual victims to fit. Theyd take over your life and blow it up in front of you for laughs, but they werent subtle, and lacked the mechanical efficiency we were dealing with.


    There were a few other possibilities that sounded too mythical to be real, and I was beginning to sense the familiar disappointment of a dead end.


    I snapped the book shut and placed it at the top of the stack. Wish we had access to the infernal archives. Their texts are better, but Im pretty sure the king wouldnt appreciate me running back there so soon.


    Alten gave me a dry look.


    Vogrin skimmed through my notes, looking more befuddled with every page. You were right to exclude the changelings. There arent many magical beings capable of working together so cohesively, even fewer capable of subsisting in a city center under the nose of a cabal of mages, incompetent as they are. None that I can think of that can operate so meticulously and impulsively enough to kill for pleasure.


    That last point wasnt mentioned in my notes, and I picked up on it immediately, as did Alten, who glanced at me in alarm.


    You dont think theyre just feeding? I asked.


    Vogrin shook his head. Unless Im missing something. This is over what period of time?


    Half a year that we know about, Alten said.


    Then almost certainly not, Vogrin replied. Unless theyre constantly under threat, which if they were, I doubt it could have stayed quiet, theyre killing because they enjoy it.


    Still not understanding how youre reaching that conclusion. Alten frowned.


    Vogrin sighed, ignoring him and leveling a long-suffering look at me. Despite the sanctum being chock-full of dangerous magical creatures who feed on mana, the infernals feel comfortable sending their children into it. Why?


    I considered my experiences. Because most of the creatures arent overly aggressive. Theyre territorial, and their behavior becomes more volatile on lower strata, which means comparatively speaking, its mostly safe. The mostly was doing a lot of work there. The sanctum was confusing, and while it was mostly safe if you stuck to the entry level, it wasnt always clear how deep you were.


    Why arent they aggressive? Vogrin pressed.


    Because theres plenty to eat? I guessed, not sure where exactly he was going with this.


    Yes, and no. What you have to remember is nearly every piece of flora and fauna within the sanctum is magical. Its in the air they breathe, the soil they tread on. Every time they hunt, every time they consume, they receive a huge influx of fuel from their prey, be it animal or otherwise. Coincidentally, this is also why many of the same creatures outside are far more aggressive than their sanctum counterparts.


    And that explains why theyre suddenly getting their jollies off by hunting demi-humans how? Alten asked, flipping the cover of his book shut and focusing on Vogrin.


    Because you have to consider their prey, Vogrin said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Their victims are mortal adults with a reasonable amount of mana. Ignoring their territorial tendencies for the sake of hypothesis, if two dozen changelings were holed up in a derelict building and somehow miraculously evaded detection, they would need, perhaps, a quarter of these victims at most, over a much longer period.


    Altens expression grew dark. So, were either dealing with a much larger infestation than we thought


    Unlikely, considering how long theyve remained undetected, Vogrin cut in.


    Or we have intelligent creatures hunting high mana targets for sport, I finished grimly.


    Which, in all honesty, still doesnt sit right with me. Vogrin hesitated, seeming torn. There is a final possibility. One so improbable and dire I find myself reluctant to voice it, as it may redirect you from more fruitful avenues.


    Go ahead.


    Vogrin shivered. The chance is infinitely small. But the pattern cannot be ignoredmass disappearances for purposes of mana harvesting, using times of unrest and upheaval as coverwe may be looking at the rebirth of an abyssal god.

 Chapter 178: Whitefall XXXIII

    Chapter 178: Whitefall XXXIII


    In the beginning, there was only Elphion.


    One god, a being of infinite power and capability, existing on the stage of the infinite cosmos.


    Entirely alone.


    In his loneliness, or perhaps, boredom, he created other, lesser gods in his own image, carving off pieces of himself to give them mind and presence. At first, his creations were simple reflections of himself, the only true difference between the creator and created that they held only a fraction of his power. These new divinities provided companionship and soothed the creator gods lonesome existence.


    It was not enough.


    After a time, Elphion grew displeased with his creations, with the way they bowed and scraped to his every whim, accepted his sentiments and commands without question. He did not know why they failed to satisfy him, only that their presence no longer provided the comfort it once had.


    So Elphion began anew, splitting his essence once more, giving birth to a fresh wave of gods. He altered them, bestowing each with unique aspects, altering their minds and souls, until each of these new creations spoke with their own voice, thought with their own mind. The new gods were fractious. They stoked rivalries and forged alliances within their ranks.


    Conflict was born.


    And, although the new gods still revered Elphion, they developed their own agendas, their own passions and pleasures. The creator god found these defiant, unruly deities far more compelling than their elder counterparts and favored them openly.


    The original gods, the simple reflections of Elphion himself, seethed at the new gods vaunted status. Over centuries, they grew bitter, conspiring among themselves. Eventually their bitterness grew uncontainable, and they lashed out as one, slaying Sarephel, the Luminous BeaconElphions favorite.


    The creator gods retribution was swift and righteous.


    Once the older gods treachery was discovered, he smote them, strangling the spark of divinity from their miasmatic souls, stripping each of their power. But not before he granted them the individuality they so clearly coveted.


    Vexul, the Festered Sire


    Erebite, the Voidspawn


    Threxian, Purulent-Heart


    The worst of them all, the god who dealt the killing blow to Elphions treasured favorite, was dubbed Zephrion, the Debaser.


    When it was finished, Elphion could not bring himself to kill them, as he had made them in his own image. Instead, he cast them down into the firmament, powerless, broken, and forgotten. And just as the new gods formed the divine pantheon above, the elder gods formed one below.


    ***


    The fact that Id heard it before didnt make the story any more pleasant.


    Vogrin was cagey with the details, but I could glean the basics. Supposedly, Vexul had attempted to restore himself with a similar pattern hundreds of years ago, when the settlement built upon his resting place grew into a populated town that continually expanded. He called on creatures from a nearby plane and bent them to his will, using them to abduct primitive magicians from the city. And once they were in his grasp, Zephrion consumed them, biding his time until the minuscule amounts of mana he harvested became enough to serve as fuel.


    The only thing that stopped him was the interference of one of the divine.


    Considering that Id lived to adulthood in my previous life without so much as a whisper about the unexpected rise of an abyssal god anywhere, let alone in Whitefall, I should have been relatively unbothered by Vogrins concerns.


    But seeing Vogrins fear of the abyssals alone, hearing the way he talked about them, was significant enough to get under my skin.


    I sent Vogrin to look in on Annette.


    After that, we returned to my rooms in silent contemplation. There was a light beneath the conjoining door, indicating that Eckor was through with his work and had returned. I sat back on the plush cushion of the couch and spread out, body aching as I processed the events of the day.


    Alten paced, his expression grim. From the looks of it, I wasnt the only one disturbed by Vogrins theory.


    Any detail from your visions that might make sense of this? he asked, staring a hole in the ground as he paced.


    None whatsoever, I sighed. Havent had one of the more immediate visions for a while, but theres nothing long term that supports it. More the opposite.


    But you dont always get them.


    Correct. I frowned. And if theres any truth to it, something is very wrong. Other than my initial encounter with Thoth, the events that changed significantly could all be at least tenuously connected to the changes Id put into motion. I rubbed at my face. Lets just take Vogrins advice not to get sidetracked. Well hit the library again in the morning, see if we can find anything of note.


    When I dropped my hands Alten had stopped pacing directly in front of me. His posture had changed, weight entirely shifted onto his back foot. A subtle shift that felt vaguely threatening. He scratched his chin with his palm in an up-down motion, his thumb extending upwards, pointing up and behind me, toward the ceiling. You know. All this. Getting involved with royal business? Its starting to feel like a mistake.


    She smiled, blood showing on her teeth, then ripped free of Altens grasp and lunged toward me.


    Before I could blink, Alten had recovered, yanking her back by her hair and slamming her skull into the marbled ground. She went limp, utterly immobile. He checked her pulse first, then pulled her eyelids back. Out cold, he concluded.


    Good. I sat back, leaning against the couch. The encounter had rattled me more than usual, considering the last time I was in my rooms and suddenly attacked by an elf with a knife. And well played. Got your signal but wasnt sure theyd buy our little drama. Best I could come up with in short order.


    Alten shivered. Hells, you half-convinced me.


    I put a hand to my temple, annoyed at my own short-sightedness. If Alten were less capable and this happened on a night I was too distracted to pick up on it, this series of events could have ended badly. We need a non-verbal communication method. Something faster and less one-sided than my using magic to bend your ear.


    Guessing you didnt do that on the off chance she was a mage? Alten opened my closet door and rummaged around until he found a belt, binding the drephins arms behind her back.


    I nodded. As far as spells go, its subtle, but if she knows her way around magic and was watching us closely, there was a chance shed pick up on it.


    Alten snorted. Smart. Paranoid. But smart. He glanced down at the bound body. Well, what now? Grab the real guards and send her off for a reunion with uncle?


    That was the question. I frowned. Given their well-earned reputation, I would hesitate to send anyone to the Whitefall dungeons. Given her skillset, however, there really wasnt a better option.


    But something the woman said stuck firmly in my mind.


    That was the first place I looked.


    Alten I said slowly, still working through it. What if shes right?


    What? About her kin just up and vanishing out of the dungeons? Alten asked, raising an eyebrow. Not likely.


    Maybe. But what have we been doing for the last few hours?


    I waited, as he connected the dots between the nonhuman disappearances, and an allegedly absent elf in the dungeons.


    Oh. Shit. Alten stared down at her, then back at me. Not possible. There isnt a monster in the Everwood that ballsy.


    Probably not. But if they are, and we send her to the same place her uncle disappeared from, theres a good chance she disappears before we get anything useful. I paused, finally coming to a decision. If we can get her to the emissarys quarters, Maya can keep her unconscious until we have a chance to check her story.


    We went to work, tidying the room first so Eckor didnt immediately sound the alarm when he returned, then placing the elf on a blanket. The castle wasnt terribly active this late at night, but there were still plenty of people going about their business. And while no one in the castle beyond my parents would necessarily stop me if they witnessed me openly hauling a body through the halls, the resulting rumors would follow me to the very ends of the earth.


    There was a loud bang at the door, followed by two more impacts.


    Altens hand went to his sword. More drephin? Or someone sticking their nose in.


    I sighed. Neither. And walked to the door. There was only one person I knew who knocked in this manner, as if whoever placed the door in her way had dealt her a grave insult.


    I opened the door a crack. A girl with a long golden braid and a down-turned mouth stared back at me. We need to talk.


    And we will, I said, trying to strain the irritation from my voice. Tomorrow, when Ive slept


    Sera pushed past me, and strode into my rooms. Glad you could find the time, baby brother She stopped short at the sight of Alten. Hed reacted quickly and covered the elfs head before Sera spotted them, but in his haste, the entire blanket had shifted, leaving the elfs immobile dark boots sticking out from the bottom of the blanket.


    Her jaw worked. Thats a body.


    Yes. There was no point in denying it.


    A womans body.


    Two for two.


    Sera slowly turned back to me. Let me guess. Its not what it looks like?


    Of all the ways Id imagined breaking through the thick layer of frigid ice that separated me from my older sister, this wasnt one of them.


    Its really, really not.

 Chapter 179: Whitefall XXXIV

    Chapter 179: Whitefall XXXIV


    Sera was gleeful at catching me flatfooted. I could read it in her smirk, feel it in the way she reveled in my story. There was little doubt in my mind that she had every intention of running to our parents the moment my story was over, making this entire state of affairs far more awkward than it needed to be. For now, she was more than happy to let me talk, ceding as much rope as possible to hang myself with. With as much as Sera had been lied to over the course of her life, she was sensitive to deceits and half-truths, so I stayed as honest as possible, only holding back certain key information, conveying the details of Kilviuss presence in Whitefall as vaguely as I could, describing him as an old contact Id been surprised to find here.


    When I arrived at the details of the drephin assassins claim that shed infiltrated the dungeon and found her father missing, Sera frowned. By the time I connected the disappearances around Whitefall with the womans claims, she was outright scowling, pesky tendrils of self-interest strangling her previous mirth.


    As Id guessed, she was aware of her lineage, even now.


    Eventually she walked away from me mid-sentence, turning and spitting on the marble floor, planting her fists on her hips. Gods, I hate you.


    That much is obvious. I hesitated. Why, exactly?


    It was a legitimate question. In my previous life, my father had pitted us against each other, destroying any potential of a normal sibling relationship between us. But that really only began in earnest after my mother died.


    Because you always have to be the center of everything, Sera snapped. Mother and father have been spellbound by you for years, clinging to rumors and whispers of your every move, practically ignoring the offspring who didnt piss off at the first opportunity.


    I resisted my ingrained instinct to rise to Seras bait, obvious as it was. Once upon a time, she knew exactly what buttons to press to rile me up, but after the high-stakes conflicts Id white-knuckled my way through with Thoth, Ozra, and Ephira, Seras attempts felt trite.


    If it makes you feel better, Mother refused to see me yesterday.


    That caught Sera off guard. Some of the fire went out of her, and she looked away. Yeah. She does that sometimes. Never really understood why. Most of the time shes so storybook motherly, and, uh


    All-knowing? I suggested.


    Sera snapped her fingers. Omniscient, yes. To the point you think shes going to be perfect and have the right thing to say every time.


    Until she refuses to see you and offers no explanation, I said, relieved to discover I wasnt the only one, and concerned at the aberrant pattern. When did that start?


    A little after you left. Like shes just tired of us, all at once. She brushed a stray golden bang behind her ear, her cold eyes tracking to me. At least you hold fathers favor.


    While it lasts.


    Alten stared back at her. Princess, I will do anything short of dance for you if it means finally getting a move on.


    Sera sniffed, angling her nose up and striding towards the door. Discipline your dog, brother. I tire of his barking.


    Woof woof, Alten said, entirely without inflection.


    Sera flipped him the bird and glanced at me. Emissarys quarters, right? When I nodded, she rolled her shoulders. Not far. Should be easy enough if we take it slow, avoid any lingering servants, and time our movements between patrols. Ill knock twice when its clear.


    My older sister slipped out before I could say anything else. A low growl slipped from Altens throat, as he resumed wrapping the drephin in the thick blanket. What a peach.


    For Sera, that was actually pretty reasonable.


    Love to hear it, Alten muttered. Someone knocked twicepresumably Seraand before I could move to help, Alten threw the bundled drephin over his shoulder. We get caught, or that delightful sister of yours turns us in, we just tell it by the numbers, no? The assassin attacked us, we won, and got lost on our way to the dungeon.


    Its plausible. Been a long time since I was in the castle. Plenty of long hallways and winding corridors that look similar. I wasnt expecting an immediate betrayal from Sera. For now at least, the possibility of action captivated her. The danger would come later, if progress slowed, or she got the feeling we were intentionally edging her out. Then, it was anyones guess what shed do. But I appreciated Altens commitment to caution.


    Well. Alten grunted, shifting the womans weight into a more comfortable position. Lets get moving.


    Our trek through the castle with questionable cargo in tow was tense, laden with stops and starts. Sera took the lead and pulled more than her share of the weight, checking the long hallways and distracting a pair of off-duty guards drunkenly returning to their quarters post-shift.


    This is stupid.


    The thought occurred to me more than once, as we covered ground. The simplest way to handle this would have been calling the guard and alerting my father to the potential breach. But if I did so, and we found the shaman safe and sound in his cell, it wasnt the sort of thing King Gil would laugh off. His trust would be damaged. And the independence hed afforded me since my return to Whitefall could be easily rescinded.


    By the time we arrived at Mayas quarters, Alten was red in the face. Hed insisted on carrying most of the load, despite my repeated attempts to aid him. Sera stood behind us at the T of a long hallway, arms casually crossed as she kept watch. Hurry up, she said.


    I reached out to steady myself on Mayas door, preparing to knock, only for the unlatched door to swing open from the scant pressure. The interior was dark. A feeling of uneasiness seeped through my pores as I spotted a human-sized silhouette pressed against the wall.


    Maya?

 Chapter 180: Whitefall XXXV

    Chapter 180: Whitefall XXXV


    The silhouette started at my call, scaring the absolute hells out of me. Cairn? Dammit. Just a minute. I could barely make out her frame in the shadow, hands wiping furiously at her face.


    Shes fine. But what was she doing, standing alone by herself in the dark?


    Heart still hammering in my throat, I silently cursed Vogrin and Kilvius both. With all the talk of monsters and abductions, they had me jumping at shadows, presuming the worst every time a nonhuman I cared about left my sight.


    Can we come in?


    We? Maya squawked. What the hells?


    Sera peeked around the corner, tilting her head back vehemently. Out of time. Patrols headed this way.


    In a bit of a bind, Maya, I pressed, looking between Sera and the door.


    Maya unleashed a torrent of guttural profanity and ushered us in. I helped Alten guide the drephin womans body through the door, and Sera squeezed in last. Maya slammed the door behind us, still swearing. SeraI heard her more than saw herstumbled her way to the center of the room beneath the unlit chandelier, raising an arm. She snapped her fingers and a small orb of flame appeared, perilously bright, zipping towards the many candles.


    Wait! Maya cried.


    Light from the chandelier flooded the room, overwhelmingly bright.


    I squinted, eyes adjusting slowly. Sera took a step away, visibly unsettled. Maya had her back to me. But even that was enough to take my breath away. White scar tissue carved cruel and jagged lines across her upper back and shoulders, criss-crossed patterns and odd splotches.


    Holy shit, Sera said, jaw working slowly.


    Mayas hands balled into fists. I still couldnt see her face. Barely visible above the line of her sleep clothes, there were deep in-set gouges across her shoulder blades larger than the rest. I realized they must have been where shed fastened her wings, during her descent into the sanctum.


    This was how she looked without the glamour.


    The tension was almost palpable as she stepped forward, directly into Seras space. Something to say, Princess? After you barge into my quarters uninvited?


    Shockingly, Sera backed down, averting her gaze. Ino. Apologies for disturbing you so late at night, emissary.


    Mayas shoulders sank, and the fight went out of her. Slowly, she turned around and faced me. A long gash ran diagonally from her eyebrow to her jaw. The skin around her eyes was puffy and a darker shade of purple, as if shed been crying. She gave me a helpless shrug that seemed to say, I told you. Then her eyes trailed down to the drephin at our feet. Payback, for what happened on the road?


    Not exactly. As I brought her up to speed, leaving out any mention of Kilvius for now, I couldnt shake the feeling of wrongness, as if we were trespassing on something personal. Both Sera and Alten seemed profoundly uncomfortable, and Sera kept eyeing the door.


    Of course. Once she had a grasp of the situation, Maya nodded and crouched over the drephin. Her fingertips glowed green as she pressed them to the womans forehead. Almost immediately, the elfs breathing steadied. Theres plenty of unused space in my closet. Ill do what I can for the head injury and monitor her.


    Shes a slippery one, Alten warned as he and Sera maneuvered the drephin into the space Maya designated. Nearly got away from both of us.


    Sure you can keep her contained? Sera asked, wiping her hands on her trousers.


    Shouldnt be difficult, Maya said, utterly unfazed. My intention is to keep her in an induced coma, but should her mind manage to free itself, I made some temporary adjustments to her spinal column. Should our intruder regain consciousness, shes paralyzed from the neck down.


    Thatll do it, Alten said grimly.


    Sera shivered.


    From her demeanor to her precise wording, Maya was doing an excellent job of appearing composed. But from the way she held her hands behind her back, and the frantic motions of her tail, I knew the intrusion and exposure of her disfigurement was wearing on her.


    Its late. Lets pick this back up in the morning. Ill help Maya with the drephin and meet you back at the rooms, I told Alten. For a moment, it seemed as if he might argue. I wouldnt blame him if he did, considering the night wed had. Itll be alright, my friend. Were unlikely to see assassins twice in one night.


    Alten hesitated and eventually nodded, leaving first.


    Im not going to wake up tomorrow and find youve gone to the dungeons without me? Sera asked, her tone dangerous.


    Yes. As we agreed.


    My elder sister backed away with a smirk, and let herself out the door. As unfortunate as the timing of her intrusion was, I found myself grateful the distance between us had been closed so quickly. For now, at least, she was an unexpected ally. But it wasnt the first time Id felt that way. I touched my stomach, where shed stabbed me in my last life, grimacing. Sera could turn at the slightest provocation. I needed to be ready for it, if she did.


    Is that going to be a problem? Maya asked. She hadnt moved since the others left, and even her breathing was shallow.


    Only time will tell.


    Surprised she didnt turn you in.


    Same, I said, feeling distinctly as if I was talking around the bigger issue. Probably no malicious intent there. At least, not yet. Seras always looking for a way to prove herself, and for the moment at least, I handed her a big one.


    Ah yes, the disappearing nonhumans. I noticed you coyly sidestepped explaining your source.


    I shook my head. Look, Im breaking trust by telling you this, but considering our joint resolution to be more honest with each other, theres not much of a choice. Kilvius is in Whitefall. Heading up a syndicate group for Persephone.


    Lord below. Mayas mouth tightened. Give the woman an inch and she takes a city.


    Pretty much, I said, noticing her negligible reaction to Kilviuss presence. You already knew?


    Not for certain. Maya bit her lip. But I thought I spotted him the other day during the return procession. So brief it was impossible to say for sure.


    Hes angry with me.


    Hes angry at everyone. You for bringing Thoth to our doorstep, Ralakos for enabling you and sponsoring your entry into the sanctum, me for refusing to stick my head in the ground and live out my life in feigned ignorance, and mother for abandoning him with Agarin.


    Damn.


    Mayas mouth turned downward, and she crossed her arms. Kilvius can preach all he likes. But mother was barely in the sanctum for half a year before he went running back to that half-blood bitch.


    Elphion, Maya, I groaned. Hes your father. And he treated me well. Better than I deserved.


    Maya hid a smile, sliding a finger across the circular rim of her goblet. Not to keep referencing your memories, but I had often wondered why youd continually turned down so many noble prospects. Beautiful as they were.


    Rebellion and lack of interest, probably. There was nothing surprising about them, and there were times I was committed enough to hating my father that Id have rejected the best match in the world simply to stoke his ire. I couldnt help but chuckle at myself. How angry Id been even before Lillian, with so little reason for it. I set the goblet aside and focused the entirety of my attention on Maya. As the night went on, Id see past the scars. Discover the warm kindness of your smile. The gentle ring of your laughter, and the way it explodes from you, as if you were trying to hold it back and finally let it loose. The soft swell of your lips, and gentle curve of your neck. And My gaze wandered for just a second, before I reined it in. Lets just say Id be thoroughly captivated.


    By what? Maya asked, leaning forward. Her breathing hitched, and the corners of her mouth turned up with a smile.


    I tipped my goblet, only belatedly remembering that Id already finished its contents. Abusing your power already, I see.


    She laughed and leaned back on her palms, blushing. Fine. Fine. I was only teasing. Lord below knows you had it coming.


    What? I stared at her and scoffed. Baring my soul over here and youre tormenting me.


    Maya moved close enough that I could feel her breath on my collarbone, looking at me with an intensity that easily frayed my nerves. Torment? Like the way you strung along a certain innocent infernal smitten with you for years with constant mixed signals, until it took a literal act of god to uncover how you feel, at which point you kissed her, only to subsequently fake your own demise and disappear? That sort of torment?


    I squirmed. Leaving out a lot of context, but ultimately fair. And for what its worth, Im sorry. Its not like there was a handbook. I had the mind and body of a child with the memories of an adult. It was confusing enough to navigate. And it took a long time to realize that I was idealizing what Lillian and I had. That it was deeply flawed, long before he interfered.


    At the mention of Lillian, Maya sat back, a shadow crossing her face.


    Sorry, I said reflexively.


    No. I know what she meant to you. And how deeply Infariss meddling must have cut, Maya said. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. In many ways, Lillians memory is a reminder of the fragility of the connections we form. Im still mad at you. And a small part of me might always be angry. But every time I look inside and try to justify that anger as an excuse for pushing you away, that memory pops into my head. All I can think about is the sharpness of the blade we balance on. How easily it could all just fade away. And in those moments, I realize the truth.


    Which is? I asked, not daring to hope.


    Maya took my hand. Even if its hard. Even if it causes us more pain down the line than remaining separate. I have waited long enough. And I dont want to wait anymore.


    I nodded, barely able to keep up. Then we take it slow. You were my first friend in this life. And you continue to be my greatest ally. I dont want to do anything to jeopardize what we have.


    But not too slow. Maya drained the rest of her goblet, giving me a look I can only describe as a smolder. I stammered the beginning of a response, and she talked over me, eyes going to the rolled up bearskin. You were going to take me somewhere?


    ***


    The brisk breeze of daybreak tore at my heels as I stepped out from the astronomy tower window, balancing carefully on the span-wide beam that ran the length of the eastern rooftop. I checked thoroughly for frost, difficult to detect on the beams chestnut stain, and held one hand out, carefully counter balancing the bearskin held beneath the other.


    Is this really a good idea? Maya called after me. When I looked back, she was clinging to the window frame, her eyes were as wide as saucers.


    Thing is, with you having my memories and all? Cant fall back on my usual tricks. Which means Im gonna have to get creative, I called back to her with a grin. Come on, this is way easier than getting out of the sepulcher.


    That was a necessary risk! This feels very unnecessary!


    Well, this was already saccharine. No harm in laying it on a little more.


    I held out a hand. Do you trust me?


    Maya scowled at me, then ducked back inside the window.


    Okay. Clearly a no


    Maya reappeared, planting a booted foot on the bottom of the frame and leaping from the window to the wider, flatter roof on the other side, clearing the gap and sticking the landing with a quick hop as she regained her footing, looking back at me with a shit-eating grin.


    Werent you just whinging about gratuitous risks? I grumbled.


    I was not whinging. Nor was I whining. Maya thought for a moment. Simply providing commentary on your tendency towards reckless excess.


    They really beat politics into you, huh?


    Rude!


    She put her hands on her hips in mock sternness as I passed her. How much further?


    What do you mean? I spread the bearskin over my shoulders and gestured behind her. Were here.


    Maya turned and breathed out quietly.


    Whitefall unfurled beneath us like a river of architecture. The diverse constructions rose from the streets coursing downward with a serene grace, weaving a current of stone and frost. As the sun ascended, its gold spilled over the city walls in a languid cascade of light and dark, shifting with slow and deliberate rhythm, as the capital roused and greeted the dawn. Small mounds of wind-swept snow dotted the streets, bestowing a placid serenity, transforming the frostbitten city into a shimmering, peaceful ocean of eternal winter.


    She turned back towards me, and I was delighted to see the dazed, slack expression.


    Thought youd see this coming once we started climbing the astronomy tower. I said, sliding down the gable and gesturing for her to join me beneath the bearskin. Maya held the comforter up to her neck and slid closer until her shoulders touched mine. Not as magical as the Everwood, I know.


    Maya shifted her head back and forth, noncommittally. Fewer bugs.


    Considerably.


    She was silent for a long time. So long I began to wonder if something was wrong. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. Have you given any thought to the state of your soul, nilend?


    Maya was referring, of course, to the deal Id made. Leveraging my soul for the support of a demonic legion. While Id done initial study on the topic, it felt presumptive to put real time into the problem. It wouldnt be relevant until I survived this power-struggle with Thoth, and Ragnarok after her. Probably less than I should.


    Youll need to do so. It was more a statement than a question. For my sake, if not yours.


    Thats asking a lot. I leaned my head against the gable. The truth was, I wasnt sure Id have it in me, once it was all said and done. I was tired. Had been for a while. To the point where, in moments of relative peacethis last week as a prime exampleI couldnt seem to relax anymore. Every time I turned a corner, crested a hill, I half-expected Thoth to be there. And every time she wasnt, instead of feeling better, I worried what she was doing in her absence.


    She will not always hold the axe over our head, nilend. Once she is scattered to the winds, you have a whole life to live, Maya said, as if shed read my mind.


    Well figure it out, I said.


    And for the first time, I believed we would.


    Maya and I talked well into the morning about nothing in particular, enjoying the utter absence of distance and barriers that had prevailed since my return. And for a moment that was as infinite as it was fleeting, my fear of the future faded away.

 Chapter 181: Whitefall XXXVI

    Chapter 181: Whitefall XXXVI


    I wouldnt have traded the events of the last few hours for anything. But that satisfaction didnt diminish the fatigue that settled over me as I walked the castle grounds towards the dungeons, well-manicured halls and polished stone fading to dull, dingy grey.


    The dark bags beneath Altens eyes likely matched my own as Sera tagged along behind us, whistling a chipper tune.


    She gave the whistling a rest to pose a question. If its some abyssal god or some such, you think itll be weaker to fire or lightning?.


    Its not an abyssal god. Alten glared at her. And if it is, I doubt well find its elemental weaknesses clearly outlined in a manual.


    Cairn? Sera said. Do you hold the same opinion as your mongrel?


    Woof.


    I rubbed my eyes, trying to hide my discomfort with her presence. It wasnt rational. By any metric, it was far better to have Sera on my sideeven for a limited timethan to have her skulking in the shadows, full of bitterness and metastasizing anger. But having the sister who once gutted me at my back wasnt doing anything for my peace of mind. I couldnt help but go through the mental calculations of how much easier it would be for her to slide a knife into my ribs here than before, when there was at least a chance that Alten would see it coming.Visit  for the best novel reading experience


    At this range, if she was fast enoughwhich she wasneither of us would see it coming. That fact remained unpleasantly lodged in my mind as we walked through the less populated sections of the castle.


    Cairn? Sera prompted.


    Right. Uh. I wobbled a hand side to side noncommittally. Hard to say. In my experiencewhich keep in mind is still pretty limitedthe old stuff, demons, the beings and monsters that have been around for thousands of years have persisted as long as they have for a reason. Fire and lightning are both common offensive avenues of magic


    I caught a glimpse of Seras expression darkening over my shoulder.


    As was dantalion flame, until relatively recently. I finished the thought, and she seemed to take that in stride, happier now that there was solidarity in our theoretical impotence. And since magic itself used to be more unified before it was divided into elements? If the worst case comes to pass and we find ourselves up against an abyssal god, theres a real possibility that it has no weaknesses whatsoever. And if it does, theres no guarantee that those weaknesses are avenues of magic available to us today. All Im saying is if that is whats happening, prevention is our highest priority.


    Who pissed in his eggs? Alten grumbled.


    Probably the favored dog, Sera said. But she was lost in thought, the jab little more than a throwaway. As much as I hate to say this, maybe its a good thing this is happening here.


    Because if it does, it will catch your entire family and city in the crossfire? Alten asked dryly.


    Because this is the domain of King Valen, Sera groused back. Any inquest here is met with vindictive fury. Hell far be more proactive if the threat is real.


    Uh-huh. And you really think your daddy poses any degree of threat to a god? Alten poked at her.


    Yes, we said simultaneously. It wasnt hyperbole or blind, nave faith. The level of mythos King Gil had accumulated during his lifetime was astronomical. Some of it was embellished for certain, and there were more than a few outright lies floating around that he allowed to proliferate, simply because they aided his image. But there was simply far too much for all of it to be bullshit. Id been up against some of the worst Silodan had on offer and survived. Yet my accomplishments were still only a fraction of what hed achieved.


    That incongruity was starting to bother me. I had two elements to my name, a high-ranking noble title, and a power that let me redo key moments should the worst occur. But it wasnt like I was breezing through. If anything, the opposition I faced was overwhelming at best, insurmountable at worst.


    King Gilalbeit an excellent strategist and one of the finest martial fighters on the continent, if not the worldshould have still faced the limitation of being a man without magic in a land rife with it. Instead, he seemed to share none of my experience. He strutted about the kingdom, making little attempt to sidestep trouble, spitting in the eye of anyone who looked at him funny. And when they came for him, which they always did, he never lost.


    I realizedto my irritationthat in our current situation, where multiple non-humans were disappearing in a domain under Gils direct control, his name hadnt even come to mindand it absolutely should have.


    The method was absolutely in his wheelhouse.


    The end of the slave trade would have served as a solid opening move. It was controversial, but more importantly unexpected, a combination that ensured word would travel quickly. After that, it was as simple as opening Whitefalls door to more than just humans. Instead of having to seek them out or mobilizing a section of the military to pick a handful of nonhumans from small villages, they would come to him. The bizarre cleanness of the disappearances wasnt even a point against. If anything, it implied Thaddeuss influence in the matter, and if my father was using Whitefall as a honey trap, hed be willing to cede his typical bombast for the sake of strategy, something hed done many times before.


    He was certainly capable.


    But a motive eluded me. He simply didnt have a reason. Even if his recent pragmatic shift was a facade, and the breadth of his hatred was alive and well, the abductions seemed almost random. According to Kilvius, no high standing members of the infernal or elven communities had been taken, and if the intent was to erode nonhuman influence in Whitefall, they would be among the first to vanish. As it was, the idea of abducting at random simply because he didnt like them didnt track either.


    The timing made even less sense.


    King Gil could appear patient. On rare occasions, he could actually wait for surprisingly long periods of time if there was an advantage to be gleaned. If this was his intent from the beginning, though, I could see him waiting a year after opening the doors at most. Kilvius seemed confident the abductions had started over the last few months. Which meant hed have waited far longer than my most generous estimate.


    When I considered it from all angles, it just wasnt viable.


    The most likely scenario was still some infestation of unknown creatures. Made even more probable by the possibility that Thoth had pulled some unseen string in the background to bring this to pass, just as she had done with the demonic legions in the enclave.


    Still, it should have been the first thing I thought of. And I didnt like how the possibility just didnt come to mind.


    It meant that sometime between our initial clash, the conflict with the drephin, and my return, my feelings towards him had shifted. And that change may have started long before that. During our separation, Id come to understand the way he thought. The reasons for the horrible and nauseating actions he took, which I once interpreted as nothing more than cruelty. He was still a monster in my mind. Just not a senseless one.


    Do you know where that confidence comes from? I asked, unable to completely soften the edge in my voice.


    Experience.


    I shook my head. They dont even start by asking you questions. They start with pain. Not a lot. Just enough that you feel helpless, scared. Then theyll ask a question, and eventually, youll answer. Doesnt matter how brave, loyal, or downright stubborn you think you are. Eventually, you answer. But even if they believe you, it wont matter. Theyll keep hurting you, just to make sure there isnt some tiny, crucial detail you held back out of spite. And gods help you if you dont have what they want, because they can drag this out for weeks, drawing false meaning from a hundred different variations of I-dont-know-please-stop, calibrating their cruelty, honing in on the methods you fear most until you break. Go catatonic. But the real bastards? The fuckers who turn this barbarism into an art form? They keep going, because they know theres a chance youre one of the rare few. Liars who can convince themselves the lie is reality, repeating it over and over until they themselves believe it, locking the truth away. They work on you at a slower tempo until your mind wraps back around, patches itself back together out of sheer desperation. And then they start anew.


    I glanced at her. Lets say you were sent somewhere as an envoy bearing no ill will, and instead of greeting you properly they took you captive, put you through that, then once they finally realized their error, set you free. What is your first point of order when the chains come off?


    Sera didnt hesitate. Id kill them all.


    Exactly.


    I picked up the pace, hoping we could finally leave the topic behind.


    Cairn, Sera called after me, her voice unsure. How could you possibly know that?


    Alten, silent up to this point, groaned and turned to Sera. His voice was almost too low to hear. Look at him and guess.


    I wiped the sweat, beading on my brow. Lets get moving. The sooner we find our drephin, the sooner we can get out of here.


    There were a few cloaked figures milling about the more open areas of the dungeon. They looked over their shoulders and whispered to each other. Unlike the castle staff, the torturers and interrogators were a cloistered bunch, with little interest in the sudden appearance of nobles in their midst.


    I spotted a large Terragorian man in a nearby room eating a leg of lamb, a rack positioned horizontally at his table, the wooden surface still stained with months-old blood. I knew who he was on reputation alone. If there was a human torturer who could match the demons, there was no question in my mind it was Jion.


    Jion stood, towering over the rack, still gripping the leg of lamb like a club, his face ensconced in shadow. Then his mouth split, revealing white glimmering teeth in a wide smile. Welcome, Prince Cairn.


    How the hell did he know me?


    Greetings, Jion. Sorry to interrupt your meal.


    He waved my token regret away. No trouble, no trouble. His accent was thick, and he spoke slowly, as if he didnt speak the language often. Before I could say more he closed the distance enveloping my hand in his fist and shook my entire arm, jarring me with a handshake. He leaned in as if we were old friends. Ive heard you can generate a flame hot enough to sear flesh from bone? And that you immolated a drephin from the inside out?


    I winced and fought the urge to yank my hand away. Yes, to the first. To the second, she was going to give away my position, and I had no other method for silencing her in time.


    Jion nodded vigorously, dark strands of grease-clumped hair falling before his eyes. Practical and inventive.


    Guessing our drephin friend gave you the broad strokes? I asked dryly.


    His face turned regretful. Unfortunately for us both, the shaman is off-limits for anything too ruinous. But besides him, the cells are full. His eyebrow rose suggestively. Id love to see your work.


    A wave of nausea rose in my chest as I realized what he was implying. Id picked a terrible moment to confide in Sera, and as a result the memories of my experience at the hands of the demons was still fresh in my mind. Almost entirely unbidden, I felt the magical pathways inscribed into my arm begin to fire.


    Jion, was it? Sera called from behind me. There are matters that must be attended. We are not here to coddle your fancy.


    Seras interruption gave me enough time to collect myself, allowing my surging mana to settle. But the shift in Jion was almost instantaneous. His almost childlike enthusiasm disappeared, and he stared at Sera in something approaching abject hate.


    I gently pulled his attention back to me. We need to speak to the drephin shaman. Its urgent.


    He still seemed disturbingly enamored of me, but Seras interjection had placed him on guard. As much as I wish to accommodate, I cannot. Hes in lockdown. Completely isolated. No ones allowed to speak with him, other than me and a handful of others. On order of the King.


    I gestured for him to lean closer. Theres word of a drephin plot.


    What sort of plot? Jion blinked.


    To rescue the shaman, I said conspiratorially, looking over my shoulder. Theres no need to speak with him directly. All we need is to confirm hes still where hes supposed to be.


    Now, it was a question of priorities. If Jion held the same dogmatic level of loyalty to the crown as many in the castleor if he was in on the disappearancehe would probably stonewall, putting many bureaucratic barriers between us and our elven guest. If he didnt, or his fixation on me consisted of more than simple fascination, then we were in luck.


    It only took him a minute to decide.


    Come with me. His eyes flicked to Sera and his mouth turned downward. And dont touch nothing.

 Chapter 182: Whitefall XXXVII

    Chapter 182: Whitefall XXXVII


    Dont touch nothing lasted as long as it took for Jion to open the doors to find the cell pit empty.


    Hes gone.


    I stood at the edge of the fetid cavity, my nerves grinding as Jion and Alten scoured the ten-foot hollow they were using to keep the shaman in isolation. Sera stared down, visibly disquieted. We just have holes to keep people in?


    Looks that way, I said, inspecting the door frame for anything out of the ordinary. The door itself was locked from the outside, with little in the way of ingress in or out. The pit was deep with slick, refuse-covered walls. But there was still a chance of a trail.


    But why? Sera said. She was pulled into herself, disturbed by both the revelation that the shaman was gone and the conditions he was kept in.


    I thought of the infernals black rooms. Its a form of coercion. Less sticky than the usual dungeon fare, but Im guessing the king didnt want to take the risk of our guest having a heart attack. Shove them somewhere isolated, preferably where they cant hear or see anything beyond their own immediate surroundings. With the lack of stimulus, they start to see and hear things that arent there.


    Its sounding like your time away wasnt all fun and games, Sera said, peering at me curiously.


    Good guess. I looked down at Alten and Jion. Any scratches or small footprints? Could be small. Even rodent sized.


    No signs of an animal, if thats what youre asking, Alten called up to me, crouching over a clearly defined imprint in the mud, tracing the outer line with a finger. Looks like he spent most of his time here leaned up against this wall. Trail of footsteps coming to and from this spot. Nothing on the walls to imply he climbed out, or even tried to. He just paced. Back and forth, and back again.


    Why rodent sized? Sera asked, nervously.


    I closed the door and went down on my hands, looking for a gap. It was flush with the ground, the door itself thick oak. There was no flex when I leaned against it. Stumped, I stepped back and turned to my sister. The drephin can change forms. Ive only seen them turn into wolves, so I dont know for certain, but its not outside the realm of possibility that he ditched his manacles somehow and changed into something small enough to escape.


    What about an insect? Alten called up from the pit.


    I considered that, eyeing the bottom of the door. While it was flush to the ground, the wood at the bottom was rough, with several grooves no larger than a sliver. If he changed into something that small, yes. That could do it. But where are the manacles? He couldnt have taken them with him.


    Even if hed slipped them, we would have known about it. Jion shook his head. As soon as the connection is broken, the bindings make a racket. Ear piercing. No one in the dungeons would have missed it.


    Which meant he left with the manacles intact.


    Something smells septic. Sera wrinkled her nose.


    Well, I doubt they were bathing him. For that matter, do you see a bucket down here, princess? Alten stood from his crouch, wiping at his brow with a forearm.


    Shut up, dog. Seras mouth tightened as she flipped Alten a crude gesture. But I considered her statement. Sera was half-elf. Along with a higher than human capability for magic, elevated senses came with the territory. And her wording was very specific. Not awful. Not even like shit.


    Septic.


    Septic how? I asked her.


    She rolled her eyes. Dont be condescending.


    Im serious. My sense of smell has been more or less ruined ever since I waded through a wyvern cove in the sanctum. I gestured toward Alten and Jion. And both of them are knee deep in the actual shit, so its probably overpowering everything else. If theres anything off about the scent, youre probably the only one present capable of picking out the difference.


    Finally seeming to accept that I wasnt patronizing her, Sera closed her eyes and her nostrils flared as she took a long breath. Again, she wrinkled her nose. Gods. Itsits like the difference between Whitefall and Topside. More aged. Spoiled food, almost.


    What sort of food? I pressed, focusing on nothing but her, the wheels of my mind already turning.


    Sera opened her eyes with a grimace. A little like rotten eggs. Its familiar, but I cant place it.


    My thoughts picked up speed. Similar to when the wind kicks up from the south in the summer months?


    My sisters mouth dropped open. Exactly. Cairn, it smells like


    The sewers.


    But before she could finish, there was a ruckus from outside. The heavy march of soldiers in plate carried down the hall. Their steps were uniform, orderly. The Kings Honor Guard.


    My father had arrived, my priority to suspect him growing more urgent with every marching boot.


    Listen to me, I said, taking her by the shoulders, checking over my shoulder to make sure Jion wasnt listening too closely. Ive been here before. Many times. You discover a key piece of information and its tempting to shout it from the rooftops. But theres too much we still dont know.


    Seras excitement faded in an instant, her enthusiasm replaced with suspicion. Conveniently positioning you to take credit later.


    Dammit, Sera.


    In desperation, my thoughts trended in several directions I wasnt proud of. Revealing my knowledge of her heritage was almost guaranteed to silence her, but shed hate me for it. There were a few other less nasty, but equally manipulative methods I could try. Updated from


    With seconds to spare, I chose neither. If youre right, what happens after you tell him?


    Seras lip curled. He sees that his precious heir is not the only offspring capable of upholding his legacy.


    I shook my head. Think further. At most, you get a flicker of recognition. An acknowledgement that will last as long as it takes for the king to spin the crucial piece of information you uncovered into a victory for himself.


    What are you offering? Sera asked, with an undercurrent of derision.


    A way to prove yourself as more than just a good nose.


    Which is? Sera asked.


    I thought furiously until it came to me. The perfect carrot. My squandered opportunity to take control of a section of my fathers army in my previous life had been a constant source of friction between me and Sera. Shed constantly given me shit for it, banging that particular drum for far too long to be simple pettiness. In retrospect, her bitterness on the topic made sense. I wasnt a fighter then, not even close, while she was an iron-trained battle-mage who would, at most, be given a small auxiliary unit. It was a slight by any reasonable measure. Which made the carrot I was imagining something she would not only want, but would bend over backward for.


    I was still leaning dangerously on an unconfirmed theory, drawn almost entirely from the stench of rotten eggs. But it was all I had.


    The sewers are massive, I said, laying the trap almost nonchalantly. It would take us months to scour them on our own. Ill need to mobilize my regiment.


    And youll what? Sera leaned in, her mouth pulled downward in anger. Let me fight with them? Your half-breeds and castaways and


    I-I-I-I came out of curiosity. Wanted to spend some time with my brother, after his time away, Sera said.


    I winced. To any other father, it would have been perfectly valid. But not ours.


    King Gil advanced on her. Tell me another lie and Ill find an empty cell to lock you in. He is in the midst of doing great thingssomething you know nothing about. This period of his life will define his rule. If I discover this hovering is part of some childish plot to undermine him


    Seras eyes welled with tears, and she retreated until her back pressed up against the stone wall.


    My father continued undeterred. then you will be stripped of your title and cast aside. If I hear a single whisper that youve been a hindrance


    She hasnt, I interjected. The smart thing would have been for me to hold my tongue, stay silent. Comfort Sera after, much as I had before. But I couldnt bring myself to do it.


    My fathers head whipped around. He stared at me in distaste. By all means, explain to me how your sister has served as anything other than a distraction.


    I blended truth and deceit, answering quickly. If Sera hadnt brought word of the disappearances to me, we wouldnt be standing here. Depending on how liberally the inquisitors interpreted your orders, it could have been days before we knew the shaman was missing. And while the infernals trained me well in technical spellcraft, Ive had very little instruction in the rawer methods practiced among my own kind. Sera is exceptional in that regard, even amongst the elites of the Crimson Brand, and when she offered an exchange of knowledge, I accepted wholeheartedly.


    The king looked between the two of us, and I could almost see his mind shift gears as he acclimated to the idea. He glared at Sera dangerously. Stay at his side then, since he seems to have accomplished the impossible task of finding a use for you. However. If there is an accident in your favor


    There wont be. Sera looked away.


    Is there anything else youd like to tell me? King Gil asked, leaning close enough that Sera began to sweat.


    Seras eyes flicked to me, then back to him. No, father. My intentions are to serve the kingdom. I swear it on my mothers soul.


    Something unspoken passed between them.


    Finally, King Gil relented. He turned from us without so much as a word and approached a member of his honor guard, hefting a polearm. Weapon.


    The guard didnt hesitate to take a knee and pass it to him. Gil snatched it from his grasp one-handed and stalked into the cell. Altenwho must have ascended from the pit and was listening at the doorwayslipped out behind him, looking back over his shoulder. Not looking great for the Terragorian, he muttered.


    As Id half-expected, the revelation that there was a greater plot didnt stay the kings wrath. It didnt matter that there were outside forces at play, because that was something he expected to be accounted for.


    King Gil recited the words with the emotion of a stone. For your lapse in service to the Kingdom of Silodan in failing to contain a conspirator of regicide, your life is forfeit. The men under your direct command, all who bore the responsibility of containing the conspirator, will be questioned with the same methods you employed. Do you have anything to say that might ease their suffering?


    It wasnt me, Jion said, the refusal half-hearted. For all his cruelty, hed spent much of his life witnessing the darkest Silodan offered. He knew exactly how this would end.


    Do you have any last words or rites?


    Jion stared up at the king with the tired gaze of a man lost in the wilderness. I


    My father threw the spear, piercing Jion through the gut and pinning him to the filth covered ground. The man slid down the spear, face twisted into a rictus of pain.


    King Gil exited the cell, a look of disgust on his face. Wall him up. Let his screams be a reminder of the fate of those who fail the crown.


    Several of the dungeon staff wheeled out a cart of brick and began piling them in front of the door.


    I watched, impassive, as they walled up the cell mechanically, the window separating us growing smaller by the second. The cold part of me whispered that he deserved itnot for failing the crown, but for the many, many lives hed maimed, tormented, and destroyed.


    But the truth was, no one deserved this.


    I sent a tiny violet sparkalmost too small to seedown the tail of my tabard and trousers, across the doorway and over the edge of the pit until it finally came to rest beside Jion. Once the bricks were laid and we were some distance away, Id feed mana into it and the spark would flare into an impossibly hot fire, burning through the air in the room faster than the small gap theyd leave in the wall could replace it.


    Suffocation wasnt a pleasant end. But it was in an entirely different realm from slowly succumbing to a gut wound. And the alternative was the only solace I could offer him.


    True change would come eventually, with sweeping reforms, governing laws. Until my father abdicated, I needed to do what I could, when I could.


    King Gil and his honor guard lingered as the inquisitors were turned on each other.


    We departed in low spirits. Sera had the worst of it, lingering so far behind wed slowed to a snails pace.


    Alten glanced back at her, then leaned in to whisper. I understand omitting the sewers. But why not mention the theories?


    For him to know that, he must have eavesdropped on both my exchange with Sera before my father had arrived, and the tense argument between the three of us once he had. I squinted at him. Your ears are remarkably good.


    Dont flatter.


    I looked forward, frowning. The truth was, Id withheld as much as I feasibly could with the goal of staggering the information and bringing the king in later. I was now doubly glad of that, and had since rethought the original strategy, for multiple reasons.


    At first? Paranoia. But theres two things that give me pause.


    One being how quick he was to kill the guy who probably had the most information? Alten asked quietly.


    Thats the first. Tt wasnt entirely out of character. Gil had killed men for less. Much less. But this seemed uncommonly impulsive even for him.


    And the second? Alten asked.


    I frowned. If the sewer lead is correct, and it is a case of monsters dragging people into drains, theres a huge hole. One that prompts another series of questions I have yet to parse. Best to restrict the flow of information until we understand it better.


    What sort of hole?


    Youre sure the cell was secure? I double-checked.


    When Alten confirmed it was, I shook my head. Then we have a problem. Because the dungeon doesnt have sewer access. Gil was always emphatic about prioritizing the dungeons security over practically everything else. One way in and out with multiple checkpoints. No secondary exits, no large, convenient-to-escape-through pipes.


    Meaning whatever took him was probably human. Or at the very least appeared human.


    And somehow walked straight out of the damn dungeon with the shaman in tow.

 Chapter 183: Whitefall XXXVIII

    Chapter 183: Whitefall XXXVIII


    We stopped by the library to solidify the theory. Sera said little as I tracked down a blueprint for the Whitefall sewer system and cross-referenced it with the markings of vanished non-humans Kilvius had let me copy.


    And while there were a few dots that didnt quite line up with the maze of large pipes that ran the length of the city, the vast majority did.


    I was tempted to go straight to Cephur as soon as we were out of the library. But I was worried about Sera. Her crestfallen demeanor hadnt improved. I sent Alten to go check on Maya, both to remove him as an antagonizing element, and because I was concerned.


    As a fighter, there was no question Maya could take care of herself. Shed proved it repeatedly during our time in the sanctum, and from everything Id seen and heard, shed advanced leaps and bounds beyond that. But no one was invincible. And if a powerful drephin shaman could be plucked out of the dungeons with no one noticing, it stood to reason that an infernal life mage could suffer the same fate.


    We raided the noble wine cellar. Or rather, I raided it, while Sera waited outside, staring into the void.


    When I returned with the plunder, she said nothing. Just followed in silence until we reached the stables.


    Were not going riding, are we? Sera groused, looking over the well-maintained stalls with distaste.


    She speaks! I said, trying to lighten the mood. When she didnt respond, merely crossing her arms, I sighed. Youre not the biggest proponent of riding, Im aware. So no. Were here because this is one of the rare few places we can relax outside of our rooms uninterrupted. And. I dunno. It looked like a good place to drink. I tossed her the wineskin.


    Sera popped the wineskins cork almost mechanically, upending the skin and guzzling much of the contents. After she swallowed, she cocked her head, staring at the skin dumbly. That may just be the best wine Ive ever tasted.


    I hid a smile. It was a decade old Cerillian red. And it was the best wine shed ever tasted. A fact I knew solely because shed told me herself, around two years from now. Consider it my thanks for keeping an open mind.


    It wouldnt have mattered. Sera took another sip of wine and grimaced. You could have shoved me off the skyhold and I dont think he would have cared. Knew my standing wasnt much to speak of, but that was the first time he outright said it. Elphion, I think I gained more value by serving as your accessory than I have in the last fifteen years.


    So, fuck him, I said.


    Sera jolted, the haze of drink fading at my words. What the hells? She looked around. Stables cant be that private.


    Fuck him, I enunciated clearly. Fuck King Gil. Fuck the king and the swayback pony he rode in on.


    My sister looked slightly panicked. Her mouth firmed. If youre hellbent on committing treason, Im going to leave.


    Its mild treason at worst. I shrugged. Seditious incitement at best. But fine, Ill stop.


    She seemed to relax a little, now that Id stopped throwing obscenities at our not-present father and corked the wineskin, proffering it to me. I took a sip in solidarity, but kept it small. I had no intention of greeting my regiment for the first time drunk.


    Youre not afraid of him. Sera shook her head. And Im not talking about cursing his name. He was putting a blazing iron to you and you kept your wits. Lied straight to his face. No hesitation. Then theres meshe raised the skin in a melancholy cheersfolding like a wet rag at the first mild pressure.


    I scoffed as she tipped the skin to her lips. Nothing about that was mild. Andmaybe it doesnt seem this waybut Im still scared of him. Therere just others I fear more.


    The arch-mage. Sera frowned.


    Oh, yes. Ozras demonic visage came to me. And a couple more. Its not that Im unafraid. More that the range of my fear has expanded.


    Was she the one who hurt you? Sera asked.


    I shook my head. Demons.


    Sera didnt seem to know how to engage with that, so she left it alone. There was a time I believed the arch-mage was a fabrication. Some fictional enemy invented to provide an excuse for you to take off and do whatever you want.


    If only it was that simple.


    Now half the kingdom is up in arms about her. Sera rubbed her face. Elphion, you were off fighting a proxy war against an enemy greater than our father has ever faced, being tortured by demons, while I was here accomplishing nothing, hating you for going on what I assumed to be frolicking adventures.


    Sister, I said, trying to think of the best way to word this, I can say, confidently, without a single doubt in my mind, that you would have done far better in my stead.


    And then you do that, Sera growled. Acknowledge me. Compliment my abilities. Put your own goals at risk to intercede on my behalf. Its like youre a whole different person.


    What do you mean


    You had me with the regiment! Sera exploded, her face twisting in frustration. Somehow you knew. Its all Ive ever wanted. Not to rule, not to be a gods damned princess, just, to be recognized on my own merits. Given a real chance to prove myself. You had me. It was the perfect bait, and I swallowed it, hook and all. Her voice caught. When father started hounding me, all you needed to do was stay silent, wait it out. But you just jumped in. Like keeping his favor meant nothing to you.


    Well. That was honest, I said.


    Now that I had the full picture, I could understand why Cephurs reaction was so volatile. From the first day Id met him in the Everwood, hed struck me as a good leader. The kind that placed the wellbeing of those in his charge first, even at his own peril.


    That, along with the way hed given his life to save mine before Id died and time reverted, was why Id chosen him.


    And now I was asking him to do something that conflicted with those ideals.


    I need some air, Sera said. And without fanfare she let herself out and closed the door behind her.


    Cephur visibly relaxed in her absence. His eyes remained on the exit, and he leaned back, crossing his boots one over the other on the desk. Well. Might have gone worse. She could have tried to have me executed.


    Yes, she really could have. I put my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes. The lack of sleep from the previous night was catching up with me. And I was concerned by the reaction, or rather, the lack of it. That Sera hadnt threatened him or even risen to Cephurs level, spoke volumes to how lost she was.


    Alright. Fine. Ill bite. Whys she so important to you?


    Shes my sister.


    Aint your only one, Cephur said thoughtfully. A gilded pen spun idly in his fingers. And from all accounts, the others easier to get along with by a country mile. Yet you put special emphasis on her back then too, asked Tamara to get close to her, right before you sent us on our way. His face twinged in guilt. I dont want to seem ungrateful. We appreciate everything you done for us, Tamara and I.


    You dont seem ungrateful, I said, slouching in the chair until my head touched the cushion. And the fact that I smoothed the path before you doesnt make you beholden to my every whim.


    Yeah, Cephur smiled. You were always like that.


    I stared at the off-white tiling of the officers quarters. You remember my vision? The far-reaching one?


    Not the sort of thing a fellow forgets.


    Well, in that vision, Sera betrayed me.


    Cephur was quiet. I could almost hear him thinking, and that led you to want to give her command of one of your banners why?


    It was my fault, I finally said. I let our father drive a wedge between us. And despite knowing it was there, understanding that he was manipulating us to compete, I just didnt bother trying to fix it. I didnt like her. To me, she was too arrogant, too judgmental to bother wasting time on. So was I, but a mirror reflecting ones self rarely lends clarity.


    And involving her in your military endeavors is a method of righting past wrongs? Cephur asked.


    Yes, and no. I hesitated. Theres no doubt in my mind shed make for an excellent lieutenant. Soldiers in particular love her. Shes rough and tumble, not above getting dirty. Theyve always appreciated that. But yes, guilt plays a role.


    Cephur drummed his fingers on the desk, his mouth tight. I feel for you, kid. Really do. But I have a responsibility to this regiment.


    I understand.


    And Im speaking from experience when I say foundation is the most important part. Guess thats true of any relationship. He leveled a gaze at me. But especially for a regiment. Morale can be a killer, if it gets out of control. I do mean that literally. And unfortunately, with these folk in particular, your noble status doesnt carry much weight. A little. But not much. Especially if you bring a tagalong who hasnt earned her stripes. Theyll eat you alive.


    I shook my head. Theres no way you can think that both of us could prove ourselves at the same time?


    Cephur sighed. Not really. You might hold more pull with the infernals on account of the dimension gate, but short of the two of you doing something approaching legend status? Such as taking on the entire regiment and winning? Nah.


    Huh I said, noncommittally.


    No. No. Cephur leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed in concern. That wasnt meant to be an actual suggestion.


    I said nothing.


    Uh-huh. But Ive seen that look before. Usually before some manner of dog-fuckery is about to ensue. Even if you could use that magic of yours to cheat your way through the entire regimentwhich you couldnt. Theyd see it as just that. Cheatin.


    That made sense. If I was a soldier, and my new commander set the entire barracks on fire as a method of instilling my respect, I wouldnt respect him much either. I smiled. So what youre saying is wed need to beat them in the proper way. A way theyd respect.


    No ones that good, kid, Cephur warned. Not even you. And Elphion, even if you managed that major miracleand it would be a major miracleitd crush morale.


    Just let me think about it for a while, I said.

 Chapter 184: Whitefall XXXIX

    Chapter 184: Whitefall XXXIX


    I had a seed of an idea, but only the beginnings of it, with little to no concept of how it would take shape. Cephur was right that this wasnt something I could enter into lightly. It was high-risk, and potentially catastrophic if it outright failed. And I wasnt just talking about losing. Both Sera and I were highly capable magic users. If we went full bore, there was a good chance of serious casualties, and even if that didnt happen, the chance of sour grapes were high.


    After all, wed both been lucky in our own way. Sera had been getting magic tutelage since shed awakened. Id been one of the few humans allowed into the sanctum.


    It was safe to say most of my regiment didnt have the same luxuries. So we needed a scenario. Something that heavily skewed the odds in the regiments favor, that would instill a sense of unity.New novel chapters are published on


    For that to happen, I needed to run it by someone with a better understanding of strategy. Someone who had, perhaps, been studying it for most of her life.


    I passed through the training yard intending to check up on Sera on the way to my destination, and found her drilling at the lineup, covered in sweat. For a moment I nearly interrupted, but the fury with which she was hacking away with the training dummy gave me pause. From my experience, her venting on the training dummy rather than me, or Cephur, or anyone else, was a good sign. She hadnt given up. She was just managing her emotions.


    So, after going back and forth on it, I let her be. Better to come back with a solution than simply acknowledge the problem.


    What followed was a lap of the castle. Annette wasnt in any of her usual areas. Her room, the kitchens, or the war room. I started asking servants, anyone I could find, fighting an undercurrent of panic. What if something had happened to her? What if the source of her original trauma had reared its ugly head early, and I was too busy caught up in other things to realize?


    A tan-skinned servant finally took pity on me and directed me towards the gardens. The one place I hadnt checked, because, over the course of both lives, Id never seen Annette go there willingly.


    I stepped through the towering wrought-iron gates at the back of the castle. The vast botanical oasis spilled out before me, verdant, lined with perfectly manicured labyrinthine hedges and blossoming, temperamental flowers that required constant care.


    Vines crept up white-latticed trellises that covered the light-graveled walkways.


    The scent, as always, was saccharine, and almost overpowering.


    It was simultaneously breathtaking and melancholy inspiring. The gardens were my mothers project, and she loved them with all her heart. So much that my father paid a heavy price for dwarven technology that kept the gardens themselves humid and capable of sustaining life throughout the seasons.


    Hed kept them maintained for nearly a year after she died, then eventually reassigned the dwarven cores to more practical uses. It was never fully abandoned. The gardeners still plied their trade in the summer months, sowed and replanted. But it became a shadow of its former self.


    Now, here it was, bursting with life again. As I passed by the blooming beds of roses larger than a fist, adorned with full petals of the richest red imaginable, I half-expected to find the queen among them, as I had so many times before, marveling at the wonders of nature and technology.


    I finally found Annette in a hidden grotto, entrenched in hedges beside a small stream. She wore a simple gray dress in stark contrast to the surroundings, and she was sitting cross-legged, arms held upward, parallel to her legs. Vogrin floated around her, rotating, arms clasped behind his back. No. Stop tensing your shoulders. It doesnt work that way.


    Then pray tell, how does it work? Annette asked. She was characteristically impassive, and her eyes remained closed, but there was a line of irritation on her forehead.


    I do not know. But stop trying to squeeze it out.


    Is your wording always so foul?


    My shoulder clipped the leaves of an overgrown hedge, the rustling noise that followed betraying my presence.


    Vogrin turned, reacting immediately. Annette barely acknowledged my arrival as I sat on the grass a short distance from her.


    What are we doing? I asked, glancing at Vogrin curiously. Id sent him to watch over her a while ago, and from the sound of it, instead of reporting back hed brought Annette here. Meditating?


    Vogrin opened his mouth, but Annette was faster. Your demon believes the voices Im hearing are a product of a magical manifestation. While this was a relief, at least initially, other than assuaging my concerns of an illness of the mind he has accomplished little beyond that, and I am beginning to believe he may be broken.


    Im not broken Vogrin snapped, then reined himself in. I cannot instruct that which I have never encountered.


    Annette opened a single eye. Arent you centuries old?


    Yes.


    There was a long pause. Did you stay inside the whole time


    No, I did not stay inside the whole time. Now close your eyes and be at peace. If thats a state youre capable of.


    They were getting on about as well as I expected, though I was surprised Vogrin had interacted with Annette directly, rather than taking the information back to me. I trusted him to an extent. But not that much.


    Was Vogrins help contingent on anything? I whispered, just to be sure.


    No, Annette said. Wouldnt have accepted if it was.


    The idea of Annette having access to magic thrilled me. This iteration of her seemed tougher by comparison, but she was still small, with none of Seras martial build or prowess. Even something as mundane as earth magic would be a tremendous step towards my little sister being capable of defending herself.


    No idea what it could be? I asked Vogrin.


    Drown alone in the bathuh oh. The small, high-pitched voice cut-off. It appeared so quickly that for a moment, I wondered if it had always been there, perched on Annettes knee. It had tiny dark buttons for eyes, no visible limbs and a small black mouth opened in a o shape that could have been a pinhead. Its head was round and distinguishable, but the cloth that extended beneath it was mostly formless.


    I had the vague realization that it was a poppet, not unlike the small homemade dolls peasant children in Topside carried around. It even had the twine around its neck.


    What I started.


    Thats Vogrin said at the same time.


    Annettes eyes shot open. She reacted immediately, curling her middle finger behind her thumb, flicking the thing in its forehead. It did a full rotation before it landed face-first in the grass, then struggled to its feet, made an obscene gesture with a willowy transparent limb, and attempted to run away.


    It was not very fast.


    Stop, Annette said.


    As if in response, tall blades of grass wove together, forming a miniature barricade that the poppet ran into full-tilt, knocking it from its invisible feet once more. It blearily looked up at her. From its perspective, she was a giant towering over it.


    Its a terrible breach of manners to stop speaking mid-sentence. Annette said, her voice ice. She leaned forward, and the shadow of her head encompassed the poppets entire body. You were saying something about a bathtub? I would love to hear the end of that thought.


    The poppet opened its mouth as if to speak, then broke to the right, attempting to run around the grass barricade. The grass barricade expanded, staying just ahead of the poppets path, corralling it in a circle until it was completely ensnared.


    A chuckle escaped Vogrins throat. How delightful. Then, he raised his voice. With that cloth body, it looks very flammable.


    Vogrin I started to warn him off, still not entirely sure what to think. But before I could finish, the circle of grass within the barricade suddenly roared with fire, the sudden change in temperature bringing a bead of sweat to my forehead.


    The poppet writhed, covered in flame, the light fabric that covered it turning dark at the edges, color change spreading inward. The fire itself didnt seem to extend beyond the barricadewhich, as it was also made of grass, made little sense.


    Its small voice grew distorted, almost demonic. YOU ARE AS SHORT AS YOU FEEL. YOUR EYEBROWS ARE TOO CLOSE TOGETHER. EVERYONE YOU CARE FOR ONLY TOLERATES YOU AS A MATTER OF COURSE.


    Thats the voice, I realized.


    One of them. Not in my head anymore. Annette said, still entirely focused on the poppet. Her anger seemed to flag into self-consciousness. Should I, um, stop?


    YOUR BROTHER WILL LEAVE YOU AGAIN THE MOMENT HE HAS THE OPPORTUNITY. Its voice was growing more distorted.


    Hm. No. I stared at the wretched thing, feeling significantly less pity than before. There was no question the poppet, the barricade, and lastly, the fire had all come from Annette. Yet as soon as Vogrin suggested the fire, it had appeared. Should probably speed this up though. And you know what burns faster than normal fire?


    The reaction was instantaneous. Orange flames turned violet, emitting a rising wave of heat. Within seconds, the poppet burned to ash, leaving a perfect circle of scorched earth beneath the grassy barricade.


    Annette breathed heavily. What just happened?


    Truthfully, I did not know. An earth mage focused on detail work could have pulled off the trick with the grass, though it wouldnt last forever, and from what I understood it was far easier to manipulate large chunks of soil or stone with earth magic than small, specific flora. A fire mage could have easily set the inferno, but couldnt have kept it from spreading the way she had. Most dantalion practitionersof which there were fewrarely left the initial stage of ignis to reach the second stage of control. And the poppet itself looked vaguely like some sort of minor demonic summon common among red infernals in the enclave, as they required little mana to sustainthe small ones often took the shape of mundane objects. But even getting to that point required a contract.


    And barring the improbability that I was about to banish Vogrin back to the hells for tempting my sister into a contract behind my back, right before she awakened to three elements simultaneously?


    It really only left one possibility.


    Congratulations! Vogrin clapped his hands and floated in front of Annette. I was correct, of course.


    Its light? Annette asked, confused.


    Not just any light, Vogrin crooned, far happier than Id seen him in months. Potentially ever. It is the light that blinds, the light that deceives, that bends and twists the fabric of the universe itself.


    Annette leaned towards me as Vogrin continued his overlong introduction, continuing to watch him as she whispered. Why is he so happy?


    Demons collect rarities. You have something hes fascinated by, I whispered back.


    Am I in danger?


    No. They have too much riding on our current deal to risk it. I hesitated. Probably. Dont sign anything.


    Got it.


    Vogrin was finally winding up. and bends reality itself to her desires. He bowed deeply with a flourish. Welcome to the arcanum, illusionist.

 Chapter 185: Whitefall XL

    Chapter 185: Whitefall XL


    I was aware that illusion magic existed. Illusions were divided into two major categories.


    The first, soft illusions, were similar to Mayas glamour, a veneer of mana that distorted the surface of an object or person and altered it to appear as something or someone different. Generally, the closer a glamour was to its wearer in terms of shape and size, the more convincing it was. But if you touched a raging river disguised as a placid one, youd hear rushing water, feel the spray before you touched it, and plunge your hand into the elevated current before reaching the image of the still current beneath. Soft illusions could be cast by mages with the light element, or enchanted into objects.


    Hard illusions were an entirely different matter. My first experience with a hard illusion was so harrowing it still haunted my dreams. They were as real as the mind made them, an aspect that was largely affected by the power of the artifact they were enchanted into. Enchantment being the operative word. To Vogrins knowledge, there had never been a light mage capable of casting hard illusions directly.


    Until now.


    Vogrin continued, still a font of enthusiasm despite the earlier setback. Its fascinating, really. As if your mana pathways were designed for one thing, and one thing only. You lack the divine taint that typically plagues the element, which some might consider to be a disadvantageits notas well as some of the flexibility of the traditional elements. Weaving your light mana into specific spells, for instance. Youll never be able to use it to launch an element-imbued projectile, nor will you be able to access any of the more utilitarian aspects such as a floating lantern that follows you or an aegis. But it doesnt matter. Because who needs an aegis when you can simply summon a shield made of dragon scale? Or a dwarven lantern? Or a gods-blasted starfall cannon! Vogrin grasped the back of his head at the mere mention of the last one, clearly off in his own world.


    Annette slowly looked over to me. I am overwhelmed.


    Yes, lets just taper down a little. Hells, even Im confused. I looked down at the circle of grass, that had once been nothing but burnt dirt. While the grass had returned, growing up from the soil with unnatural speed, it wasnt untainted. It was yellower than its surroundings and the top of the shoots were cracked and dry. I glanced at Vogrin. If the fire was a hard illusion, why is the grass still there?


    How strong was your magic when you first awakened? Vogrin cocked his head at me.


    I held my hands up. Elphion, relax. It was a legitimate question. At this rate he was going to request a transfer. When I noticed Annette was still watching me, wanting to hear the answer, I shrugged, turning up my palm and summoning a spark no larger than a mite of dust. About like this.


    Oh. Annette looked relieved.


    A mage begins as a fragment of how they end. This is the way of things. Vogrin crossed his arms. In your case, I suspect you are struggling with the same barrier any light mage struggles with in an attempt to solidify their illusions. Permanence. Rather than kneeling, he rotated supine and lowered himself down so his nose almost nearly touching the still regrowing grass. The fact that the effect even lasted this long is a testament to your potential.


    That isnt normal? Annette asked.


    If you were a hundred-year-old elf, or an aged-out infernal whod been focusing purely on illusion since they retired to the sanctum, perhaps. Otherwise, it is most certainly not.


    I felt uneasy. My experience with magic had been vastly different. Great power typically came at great cost, and Annette had gone from a talented tactical advisor to an all-around powerhouse in a matter of hours. This all sounds great. But I have to wonder. Whats the catch?


    Vogrin scowled at me, as if it annoyed him I was focusing on the negative, then returned his attention to Annette. This is all more or less new, but from my knowledge of light magic illusions, there are two less serious concerns. Range and scale. He pointed to the farthest in a row of blossoming apple trees in the distance, perhaps a hundred span from us. If you would.


    Annette stood, going up on her tiptoes to look. What should I do to it?


    Theres a twig in your hand. Attach it to the tree.


    My sister looked down at her empty palm, confused. Like it had always been there, the twig shimmered into existence, a green leaf extending from its far end. Her eyes widened. Oh. I could get used to this.


    Its already reflexive, I realized. As teachers went, I hadnt seen this side of Vogrin before.


    The shrub jostled as she spoke, as if someone was shaking it from the other side. I feel a little tired. Not exhausted. More as if I ran up a flight of stairs too fast. Does it look convincing?


    That would be an understatement. I know exactly where you are and Im having trouble seeing you. Think you could hold it for a while?


    The shrub nodded. Which was as disorienting as it sounds. The most tiring part was making it. Now that its in place, I dont feel like Im getting tired any faster.


    A knot of long-held anxiety in my gut, there so long Id almost stopped noticing it, released. The way Annette died in my previous life had been burned into my memory. I saw it often, moments before I fell asleep. The shock of the violence itself had long since faded. But the revelation of how vulnerable she was had persisted.


    Regardless of how permanent her illusions became, or how strong she grew, this was the best I could have asked for. Reassurance that even in the worst situation, she could hide. Protect herself. Survive. Even if I wasnt there.


    I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve and stepped away.


    Vogrin and Annette tried a few more things. First, she successfullyalbeit unhappilysummoned the poppet from earlier. Again it mocked her, spouting all manner of drivel. Annette looked about ready to burn it all over again until Vogrin instructed her to look away. The poppet immediately grew clumsy, tripping and falling over itself as it attempted to return to Annettes field of view.


    As it turned out, the poppet wasnt sentient. It was a simple illusory construct driven by Annettes subconscious. Even knowing this, she had trouble controlling it. So instead, she banished it and summoned a small pink elephant, which seemed much more pliant. She was able to direct the animated stuffed animal almost twenty span before it collapsed and faded away, exceeding her previous range limitation due to the creatures form.


    At that point, I let Vogrin take over. I still needed to speak to Annette for ideas on the situation with my regiment, but I wanted to let her enjoy what Id never had. A moment to enjoy and experience her magic with a competent teacher to guide her.


    Id neglected my own advancement for far too long. Kneeling down in the grass, I felt the gentle breeze as it washed over me. I hadnt done this since Id left the sanctum, and it had been far too long. Letting my mind wander, I pondered my magic. I could work on my inscriptions, perhaps, but they were easy enough to use.


    There was something Id been avoiding ever since the ambush. I opened my palm, the violet flame of absolution suspended between my thumb, index and third finger.


    In desperation, Id used it to deconstruct myself, escaping through the puncture Eckor had placed in the barrier. Strip myself down to almost nothing but essence and recreate myself somewhere else. The value of that was apparent. But it had almost killed me. And with the maelstrom of emotions that my return to Whitefall incurred, I hadnt trusted myself to attempt something so volatile. There were still things I needed to achieve. Sera, the regiment, the disappearances. And of course, Thoth.


    But there, in the garden, with the sound of Vogrin and Annettes squabbling at the forefront, the symphony of whispers ceased. Birds chattered from their perches high in the trees. The wind rustled leaves and grass into rhythmic dances. All forming a sightless landscape within my mind.


    And perhaps, or the first time since that day in the wagon, I felt peace.


    The spark of absolution eroded my fingertips first, then consumed my palm and forearm, erasing all. There was pain, yes, the same as before, but it went more quickly this time, more smoothly, until the sounds of the garden fell away, the sensation of breathing faded, and the sunlight illuminating the inside of my eyelids a warm red faded to black.


    Until there was nothing but the spark. I could still see it without my eyes, sense it without my mind. First, I willed it forward, then followed it, taking form once again.


    I opened my eyes, safe and whole, several span from where Id started. There was a sheen of sweat on my forehead. But thered been no voice this time, no close encounter with the void.


    It was an improvement, to be sure. But it needed to be faster, over a longer distance. I closed my eyes and summoned the spark of absolution once more.


    Again.

 Chapter 186: Whitefall XLI

    Chapter 186: Whitefall XLI


    It was well into the evening when we finally got around to talking about it. Annette didnt so much as balk at the odds. Her solution provided exactly the balance I was looking for, a way to show the regiment exactly what we were capable of martially without invoking feelings of unfairness or resentment, demonstrate strategic mastery, and also give us a fighting chance. If we pulled it off, it had the added benefit of instilling a sense of camaraderie and competition. And no one would be able to claim that the bout was unfair.


    The problem was, Annette had a condition. And Sera wouldnt like it.


    Id decided for the sake of safety that it wasnt worth the risk of leaving the drephin woman in Mayas rooms. Wed need Maya for what was coming, and the chance of a servant or one of Thaddeuss nosier operatives stumbling upon her was simply too high. And the discovery of an elven dissident stowed in an emissarys quarters would not play well.


    With Annettes help and a considerable dash of trepidation, I relocated the still-unconscious woman to Lord Erebuss estate. I knew from our brief interactions that he was both sympathetic to nonhumans and wary of the crown, which was sufficient for my purposes. After checking up on Keraia creature of the wild being showered in such luxury he looked positively spoiledI started by explaining the situation at the dungeonsnot the sort of information Id typically bandy about freely, but half the inquisitors in the dungeon had either seen or heard what had happened, and a significant portion of those were probably less than happy about it.


    Which meant the information was already out. I could disclose it to Lord Erebus as a show of trust at practically no cost to myself.


    I mentioned nothing about the greater disappearances, simply implied that the dungeons were not secure. Erebus filled in the rest himself.


    He smiled in that thoughtful way of his, the skin at the edge of his eyes crinkling at the edges. I am glad you feel as if you can rely on me, my prince. And that our momentary alliance might not be so temporary after all.


    I affirmed he was correct, my nerves still frayed from worry over the next few hours, but not so extensively that I lost my manners. I shook his hand, thanked him, and went on my way.


    The gap between me and Annette had been wide, the chasm of antagonism separating me from Sera wider still. I had largely closed those individual breaches. My standing with Sera was shaky but holding. Which was an achievement worthy of acknowledgement. The problem was, it simply wasnt enough. Not for Annettes condition to be met. And the yawning gulf between Sera and Annette was more significant than it ever had been.


    And now, standing in Annettes war room, I grew nervous simply at the idea of my sisters occupying the same space. They behaved themselves well enough in a public setting when their paths crossed, but as soon as there were no eyes to see or ears to hear, the faux civility between them devolved easily.


    Annette was hard at work, making notes, using koss pieces from the pushed away boards on the large center table, murmuring to herself as the door creaked open, the tip of a sword glimmering in the lantern light.


    Sera nodded to me and sheathed her blade.


    Jumpy? I asked.


    Sera shrugged. It was a missive delivered from a servant in the middle of the night, directing me to meet you in the runts territory.


    The runt is here, Annette proclaimed, deadpan, as she placed another batch of koss pieces on the map.


    Speak of the devil. Sera leered at her, just short of sticking her tongue out before her attention returned to me. What is this?


    This, I highlighted the map on the table, Is how were going to get you your banner.


    The commander made himself clear.


    Annette stepped out from a bookcase directly in Seras view, illusion fading as she returned to us.


    Sera panned from the bookcase to Annette, then back to the bookcase, too stunned to emote. I suppose it was only a matter of time.


    I snorted. Now, if were all done poking at each other and posturing, can we move on?


    Sera didnt leave as Annette laid out the strategy, using illusions to augment her points. Well be using the Seryndor Ruins as a proving ground. Twin, ethereal spires extended up from a square in the center of the map. Theres an expanse of overgrown urban center here, and the area of engagement will extend a wind-span beyond the outskirts, encompassing a sizable chunk of the surrounding Everwood.


    So you can just do magic now? Sera asked quietly, not looking at Annette.


    Tricks and misdirects, as you witnessed yourself. Nothing compared to the power you wield, Annette said, lying as smoothly as she breathed. For the immediate future it was close enough to the truth.


    Sera shook her head as if to clear it. Uh Fine. Cant believe were even seriously talking about this, but fine. Seryndor. First thing that comes to mind, is why stage this anywhere urban at all? I get that theyre ruins but historically, our troops have had the most trouble navigating the Everwood terrain itself. Something you have experience with. She looked at me. Why not stage it there? In a large section of dense forest that will be difficult to navigate?


    I glanced at Annette. We discussed that, briefly. If we were up against any other regiment, the Everwood would be the ideal terrain.


    But not yours, Sera said.


    I shook my head. The man you know as Commander Cephur cut his teeth in the rangers. I suspect hes more than familiar with that weakness and has specifically trained his regiment around it. Knowing that, it would take a special sort of hubris to follow through.


    Youre sure? Sera asked. His job was to prepare them for you, make sure they were competent in every environment.


    Even if he didnt, the regiment is mixed. Ive gone up against elves in the forest before and have no intention of repeating that experience if possible.


    And in the forest, both of your specialties become a dual-edged blade, Annette said. Even though demon-fire can be controlled to an extent, traditional fire cannot. And we will not be the only ones with the latter. There is too high of a chance of things turning chaotic. And we want as controllable a scenario as possible. Her eyes slid to the map. In addition, staging this in a well-known, oft-romanticized location will reinforce the image we wish to project.


    What image? Sera asked, her curiosity about the greater plan elbowing out her annoyance that Annette seemed to be steering the conversation.


    We told her what we had. The core of it, the rough concept, was all Annette. Id added to it and honed a strategy that was theoretical to a fine, practical edge.


    By the end, Sera was laughing again. But this time, not in ridicule. She wiped tears from her eyes. Gods strike me down. That is underhanded enough to be worthy of the King himself. Its so brazen Im half-expecting the next thing youre going to tell me is that were doing all this tomorrow.


    I chuckled. Ah. No. I have some experience leading a small squad against a superior force before, but we had experience working together. Synergy. Our short-term, non-ideal solution to that is simple. Were going to rough it for a couple days. Head to Seryndor early and get a sense for the terrain, as well as a general idea of how our individual abilities complement the others, and come up with practical tactics to fall back on. It wont be as good as if wed spent weeks drilling together, but it will be better than nothing.


    Sera leaned forward, staring at the map. And then we knock down a regiment.

 Chapter 187: Lillian III

    Chapter 187: Lillian III


    Lillian squeezed herself into a hollow of roots. Damp mud squished between her fingertips, and a skittering of small things sent a chill down her spine. She pushed on in an urgent crawl until her back pressed against the spiraling tendrils and struggled to control her breathing as she turned her head to look out from the hiding place.


    The black nose of a feral muzzle hovered beyond the bark of a nearby tree, suspended high in the air, drool leaking from its mouth as it drew in rasping sniffs, silently swiveling, the sound damp and foul.


    Until now, her outing to the Everwood had been more or less productive. Barring the key element she was looking forthough shed started out looking for something specific, at this point shed take almost any ingredient with high mana potential and call it a dayshed been able to restock or find substitutes for many of the more expensive ingredients her failed concoction had wasted. But lacking the alchemical catalyst, shed pushed on, marking trees as she went. The trunks of the trees had grown thicker, their bark darker, more grooved and aged.


    Shed been more cautious at first, keeping an eye out for tracks, trampled flora, markings on the trees. New novel chapters are published on


    Her chest rose and fell in short, tight gasps, and her mind spun.


    Hyperventilating. Cant get out of this if I lose consciousness. Have to stop. Breathe.


    She pressed a hand against her stomach as Gunther had taught her, and forced herself to inhale from deep within, as silently as she could. As her breath steadied, she removed her hand, leaving a muddy print on her waist, then allowed herself to look in the direction shed seen the muzzle. It was still there, fixed in the same spot.


    It knew she was here.


    My scent.


    Lillian worked quickly, quietly opening her satchel and withdrawing a bundle of thygian moss. It was a shame to use something so expensive, but it was pungent, and most animals steered clear of it. She held it in the center and rubbed it over herself, working urgently but carefully so there was no noise to draw the creatures attention. When she was done she set it aside, dippedg both hands into the mud and began covering her arms, ankles, neck and face, then started on her clothes.


    Until the wolf stepped out.


    She froze. A normal wolf would have been bad enough. But this wasnt a normal wolf. It was too tall, its head coming to around the same height as a mans. There were tufts of hair missing, and long uniform scars that could have been the aftermath of a bears claws.


    In a moment of abject panic, she wondered if the bear had lost. It was certainly big enough to take on a small bear, and that was assuming there was only one.


    Dont think about that.


    Her heart crawled into her throat as the wolfs head turned toward the hollow. It meandered toward her, its movements stilted and hobbled. Painstakingly slowly, she grabbed the bundle of moss with one hand and held it so it covered her face, praying to Elphion that it would be enough to mask her breathing.


    The midday light that had been filtering into the hollow gave way to the giant wolfs shadow. She could hear it panting quietly, a nascent growl in its throat.


    There was a huff. And then it was gone.


    Counting the minutes by heartbeats, Lillian laid perfectly still, even as the stench of thygian pervaded her nostrils until it was almost unbearable and her head sank deeper in the mud. She pulled the clump of moss down just far enough for one eye to see out of the hollow entrance to the forest beyond.


    Thered been no noise, when the wolf approached. Nor when it followed her. Just flashes of movement she spotted through the trees. It could still be out there. Wolves didnt give up a trail easily, and this one was patient. Minutes felt like hours, but she was mindful of the suns movement. For now, there was time..


    But if she was stuck here, this deep in the Everwood at night?


    She wouldnt live to see another morning.


    As if to underscore that, the wolf stepped into view of the hollow again, coming from the direction that it had left. Having lost the scent, it was doing what all excellent hunters did when the trail was cold.


    Doubling back.


    Again, it moved on and she waited.


    The wolf returned once more before finally seeming to abandon the hunt, and Lillian waited a long time before she finally pulled herself out of the hollow and brushed a spider from her shoulder, checking around her first, then squinting up at the canopy. The sun was at its apex.


    Youre an interesting one. The voice, while soft, was terrifying enough that Lillian nearly jumped out of her skin. She started and spun, looking for the source before her eyes landed on a small creature no larger than a small dog. Its face was angular, furred, and red. Vulpine. Snake-like pupils stared up at her, surrounding irises brown, with a golden starburst at the fringes. As she studied its features, it spoke, canine mouth at the cusp of the white streak that ran upward from its belly splitting in a disturbingly human fashion. That was fast thinking, the way you handled the dire wolf. They are almost impossible to deter once in pursuit of prey.


    It was, for all appearances, a talking fox.


    Lillian was wary. While there were many mysteries of this world hidden from her, certain truths were self-evident. One of which being that, despite the many wonders of the Everwood, mundane creatures did not spontaneously gain the gift of speech.


    Which meant this creature who took the guise of a fox was one of two things.


    Either a spirit, or a demon.


    The foxs tail swished back around, and when it retreated, the bezoar was gone. It would prove much more useful and prevent you from needing to return here for considerably longer than what you were originally looking for, yes?


    Yes, Lillian whispered. Demons traded in desire and played on ones greed. No matter how badly she wanted the bezoar, or how much good she could do with it, there was no guarantee shed be successful. Or that it was even real. She had to be strong.


    Hm. The fox peered skyward, as if weighing two possibilities. It would be of great use to you, to be certain. But it is not in my kinds nature to give away things of value freely. Would a riddle be too trite?


    What are the terms of your riddle? Lillian asked. She braced herself, preparing to say no.


    Pah! the fox laughed. So cautious. But perhaps, wise. Very well. My terms are as follows: If you guess correctly, I will surrender the bezoar to you with no strings attached and no hidden conditions beyond that you remember my generosity and look back on me kindly.


    Of course it sounded good. It was the honeyed bait. The motivator. She needed to uncover the snare.


    And should I guess incorrectly?


    The foxs lackadaisical manner grew serious. We go our separate ways. You will not seek me out again, nor tell others about me, nor seek retribution for my withholding the bezoar, should you gain the means to do so.


    Lillian blinked. By comparison to all the underhanded possibilities and complex turns of phrase shed imagined and been prepared for, this was far more straightforward and reasonable. So simple it felt as if the simplicity itself was the trap.


    And she said cautiously, in that case, you will not follow me or attack me.


    I wont, the demon said.


    And you will not do so if I guess correctly, either?


    Correct.


    And regardless of outcome, I will not incur any debt to you.


    Right. The fox rolled its eyes. Nor will I cause harm to you and yours by any secondary means, or lure danger into your path, or compromise the bezoar, or attempt to use this encounter as a basis of manipulating you with the intention of the aforementioned later. If you guess incorrectly, you will never see me again.


    Lillian opened her mouth.


    Not because you are dead, but because I will routinely avoid you should our paths cross, the fox answered sourly, before she could even voice the question.


    She was keenly aware that he had made no guarantee of avoiding her if she answered correctly. Considering how pliant hed been, she doubted hed refuse if she asked. But to her understanding, not all demons were evil. As a whole they skewed that way, and were nefarious and difficult to deal with, but this one appeared to be exactly what he presented himself as. Curious.


    And perhaps a curious demon that had thoroughly promised not to harm her would be a decent friend to have.


    Alright Lillian said slowly, reviewing their encounter once more to ensure she had missed nothing. The riddle.


    The fox smiled that unsettling smile again. I am always there but seldom acknowledged. Buried deep within yet often on the surface. I am held by both the weak and the strong. A shared burden from birth until oblige. Twin faces I possess, one bright, one dark. In joy I can bring solace, in sorrow, a spark. Born in an instant, yet eternal as the sky. Vanish I might, but never truly die. What am I?


    Lillian held back the answer that immediately came to her. Shed initially thought the answer was a soul. It was always there but seldom acknowledged, affected the persons demeanor and everything about them. Most of the entire riddle seemed to align. The problem started at the section referring to bright and dark. As she understood it, souls werent inherently good or evil. They were neutral. It could be a reflection on the potential duality of a soul, that all people had a capacity for good or evil, but she wasnt sure that was right. She still might have gone with that answer regardless if it wasnt for the next line.


    In joy I can bring solace, in sorrow, a spark.


    Im a memory, Lillian said.


    The fox nodded, looking at her with something that felt like pride. Per our agreement, so am I. The glowing bezoar launched up from behind it, like an invisible hand had scooped it up from the ground and tossed it.


    Lillian caught it with both hands, trying desperately not to crush or damage the small marvel. It bent to the touch, but felt solid enough in her palm. Warmth and power radiated from it, far greater than the fraction shed felt from the capsule. She looked at the already retreating fox with surprise and gratitude. Thank you.


    Of course. The fox grinned over its shoulder. My thanks for the entertainment. Remember to think back on me kindly, after you do great things. Whatever they might be.


    As was so often the case Lillian found herself too curious not to ask one final question. What sort of creature did this come from?


    The fox stopped, turning halfway. It was quiet for a moment before it spoke. The beings that carry them are cunning, but weak. They are simple enough to hunt if you know where to look, and how to lure them. Something unknowable passed through its eyes. I can show you their nesting grounds in a nearby ruin, if that is your wish.


    Her enthusiasm immediately gave way to caution. What will it cost me?


    The fox smiled.

 Chapter 188: Whitefall XLII

    Chapter 188: Whitefall XLII


    It had been a long couple of days in the Everwood. The sort of training wed done, as well as the survivalism that went hand in hand with it, was almost as familiar to me as breathing at this point. But itd been harder on my sisters, and by the end of the second day they were visibly exhausted, so wed returned early to allow them the comfort of a night in their own beds before we returned by horseback to Seryndon.


    As they trudged up the hill towards me, I could see it was the correct decision. Sera was still fatigued, but the black bags had faded from her eyes. Annette followed alongside her, head turned towards her sister, saying something I was too far away to hear.


    Sera shoved her lightly, and Annette stumbled but recovered quickly. Within a minute they were in range.


    Ready? I asked Sera.


    Ready to get this over with. Sera rotated her shoulder, glancing at the regiment in the background grimly. She was wearing gaudy, high steel armor, so bright, well-polished and reflective it was almost a mirror. Id worn the same thing to the letter, only my breastplate bore a golden crown. Would feel better about it if I thought we stood a chance in hell. She stared down at the base of the hill, where Cephur had organized the regiment in long lines by banner. Down below, five hundred men stood at attention, their arms clasped behind their backs.


    The strategy is sound, Annette said, then glared at me. Though I will not be forgetting that this part was your idea. Whereas Sera and I were both dressed in battlefield attireimpractical as it wasAnnettes frilly yellow dress was so eye-catching and stereotypically princess that the contrast was comical.


    We were going to play on their expectations of us. At least, for the moment.


    Itll be fine, I told them, though in truth, I still wasnt sure. Seryndor wasnt far from Whitefall. If you climbed a tree, you could probably still see the castle from atop the canopy. Unfortunately, that meant there was an utter absence of monsters to hunt. Id pressured Sera as much as I could through sparring while Vogrin continued to work with Annette. But because of her responsibilities at the castle, Maya had been unable to join us until today.


    Technically, this was still only a training exercise. Not actual combat, but as close to the real thing as we could get. Especially considering how solidly we were about to stoke their fire.


    Further down the hill, Alten stared at the regiment. He glanced at me as we approached. Remind me of this exact moment next time I complain about a lack of action.Updated from


    Cold feet? I asked.


    Hardly. He fell in step with me as I passed. But I think Ill have my fill for a while.


    Its not like itll be over. As soon as this business with the regiments settled and we give them a night to nurse their wounds, were headed to the sewers.


    Alten chuckled. Never thought Id be telling someone else they need to learn to kick back. Relax a little.


    Im always relaxed.


    Hope you lie better to them than you do to me.


    We fell silent as we approached the regiment. They were well-disciplined, and no one jeered or spoke out of line as we approached. Still, I could feel the weight of it as a thousand eyes lingered on me, and imagine the picture we must have made. Two nobles, fair of skin and lacking helmets, wearing bulky armor that would serve them well in an organized line but was terribly impractical for anything else. A guardsman clad in honor he didnt earn. And of course, a small girl hiding behind them all, peeking out shyly.


    I grinned at Maya as I approached, and she rolled her eyes. Shed seen this trick more than once, though perhaps, never quite on this scale.


    I see. And what reinforcements will you be bringing, Prince Cairn? Salven asked, elevating his voice so it carried.


    I turned my eyes upward, as if doing the mental math. Two hundred-plus of you, four of us I imagine thats about equal.


    The din grew, and by the time it crescendoed the soldiers were more angry than stoic.


    Lot of pomp and circumstance for something thats gonna be over in seconds, Mari growled.


    Seconds? Aethrya responded, looking me up and down dismissively. Itll be over for him the moment it starts.


    From what Id heard from Cephur, it wasnt an idle threat. Aethryas banner was range focused, and Aethrya herself was a better shot with a longbow than Tamara. That theyd be using padded arrows would do little to hamper the debilitating force of a well-placed shot other than curbing the lethality.


    Beyond the archers, the rest would be using blunted steelwhich, while less lethal than the sharpened alternative, was still a far cry from wooden training blades. The mages would be expected to pull their punches as well, but I didnt doubt that this could turn nasty with the tone I was setting. I needed to place special emphasis on safeguards.


    I ignored them and moved on. Now. What we are enacting is a grand melee, not unlike a tournament. Your goal should be to disarm or incapacitate your opponent, take their ribbon and move on. But as anyone whos ever attended a tournament can tell you, accidents happen. I held up a smooth bronze-colored cylinder like a torch and twisted the base. A bright golden ball of light ejected straight up, flying up high into the sky and slowly arced, leaving a lingering trail of smoke. Send up a signal if you, or anyone around you, has been badly injured. The supplemental forces will come to your aid, and our honorable emissary will come to you via horseback.


    There were slow nods of acceptance, though Mari seemed to accept the idea of not letting us all bleed out on the ground more slowly than I would have liked.


    Well, Id insulted them, flipped the raven in their faces, and acted the fool. I wasnt too worried about the lieutenants. Now it was time to ensure a random soldier with a grudge didnt slit my throat in the chaos.


    Win or lose, regiment or no regiment, drinks in Topside are on me tonight! I held my fist skyward.


    For the first time, they cheered. And why wouldnt they? Id just given them full license to stomp not one, but two nobles asses into the ground and then offered to pick up the tab. Three of the four lieutenants returned to their banners with the bags, immediately selecting members for their smaller groups and organizing them by officer.


    Only Salven lingered, looking back at the chaos in amusement. You know, my grandfather recently returned to this plane on account of a recent development.


    Congratulations, I said, doing my best to keep a straight face.


    Apparently there was a heartfelt speech. Not only by a human, but a human mourning his fallen infernal master. From the sound of it, he washow should I say itnot that much of a dickbag. Rather genuine, by all accounts.


    The memory of Veldani swept over me and I felt myself frown.


    Anyway, Salven said, smirking again. I look forward to seeing your reputation in action.


    I watched him go, beginning his selection and passing out ribbons to his men. Despite the familiarity, and the kindness in his words, I got the sense that he wasnt going to go easy on me. In fact, I suspected Salven was the lieutenant I needed to be most wary of. If he knew of me, he also knew this wouldnt be nearly as straightforward as the rest were expecting it to be.


    I turned and signaled the others.

 Chapter 189: Whitefall XLIII

    Chapter 189: Whitefall XLIII


    I maintained the slow, unaffected strut until all four of us broke line of sight, disappearing behind the ruins walls. Then I scooped up Annette and broke into a sprint, Alten and Sera flanking me on either side. We had perhaps a half hour before the regiment finished their selections and advanced. Less, if they were organized about it. Banking on less, we moved as quickly as possible, dashing inside the shelled out temple wed previously scouted and selected as our operating base.


    Then, I began stripping off the high steel armor, tossing it onto the ground as I went, replacing it with banded leather pieces.


    Pity, Sera said, doing the same. I know its ridiculous, but I feel a hell of a lot safer with metal strapped to me than leather.


    Too heavy, Alten grunted. Cant hit and run if you can barely run.


    At least you get armor, Annette said, shedding her bright dress for a dark slip. I know were trying to get them to see me as a non-combatant, but Im feeling incredibly exposed at the moment.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    Vogrin, movement? I asked.


    He reappeared, hovering before me, looking beyond a wall towards something unseen. Feedback from my constructs is facing some interference. Salven and Aetheryas banners are still making their selection. Mari and Zin have finished their selections and are headed towards the ruins. They do not appear to be coordinating. As you predicted, this has turned into a race to the prize.


    Good. I smiled viciously. Theyd bought our show at the base camp and taken the bait.


    Wait. Vogrin hesitated. Zins banner has stopped. Theyre returning to base camp.


    What, why?


    I cannot be certain from this distance, but it looks like troops from the infernals banner are calling them back.


    Salven. I knew he was going to be a problem.


    Dammit. Sera leaned her head back. So much for taking half of them off the board in one fell swoop.


    Mari? I asked Vogrin, gripping the top of a pew until my fingers turned white.


    They are also being called back but they do not seem to be listening. If anything, theyve picked up speed. Vogrin chuckled. So desperate to prove her worth. That insect you placed in her ear is most certainly bearing fruit.


    The plan had been to create a crossfire with the early arrivals and turn as many of them as we could in the chaos. But if we could secure an entire regiment in one fell swoopespecially one made up of the best melee fighters in the regimentthat could possibly be better. Which side?


    South, Vogrin confirmed.


    I glanced at Annette. Up for the bridge?


    Annettes face was pale, but her green eyes radiated with excitement. I can do it.


    Sure youre not gonna get in your head about it, like the first few times? Sera muttered.


    I can do it, Annette reiterated, staring at me with conviction.


    It was a big play so early in the skirmish. But that was the only way this was going to work. If we chipped away at them, eventually the numbers would turn against us.


    I made a snap decision and scooped Annette up, blowing through the derelict doors, putting a small amount of mana through the inscriptions on my legs and racing down the main street, leaping over detritus and keeping an eye out for vines or anything else that could trip me up. I glanced over my shoulder. Sera and Alten were falling behind, but that was fine. We needed to get there first. Tell me again, I huffed, What do you do if you get caught out?


    Annette looked away.


    Annette.


    Surrender, she said finally.


    Thank you, I said. She was unarmed, and I didnt think the soldiers Cephur personally vetted would go out of their way to hurt an unarmed child, but there was a chance theyd eventually figure out what she was doing. Her sticking it out wasnt worth it if things took a turn and it cost her life.


    I approached the south entrance at a breakneck pace, racing against time. If Maris banner breached the sightline of the crumbling wall to the east before Annette got the illusion in place this wouldnt work. I could hear them over the pounding of my heart, as I dropped into the reservoir at full speed, using my inscriptions to cushion my landing, putting Annette down, quickly planting four small sparks at either side of the reservoir.


    Maris banner approached from outside, Alten and Seras from the right.


    There was a flare of mana as Annette reached up with both hands. A crumbling, decrepit bridge slowly phased into existence. She held it, monitoring the structure as she moved well clear of it and wedged herself into an alcove, phasing into the stone.


    The sound of marching ceased. Sera and Altens distant sprinting continued growing closer.


    What? Mari looked between all three of us.


    The rumor you were told was bullshit, Mari, I confirmed. On my honor as crown Prince of Silodan. We have no intention of taking your banner away from you. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a soldier beginning to crawl out from the pit, waited until the blue ribbon on his waist was visible, then hit him with a bolt of compressed air, knocking him back in.


    Then whose banner are you taking? Mari growled. Just because it aint mine and the others are prissy bitches doesnt mean they didnt earn it.


    No ones, Sera said If we win this, Cairns creating a fifth banner. Volunteers and the dregs. Anyone who isnt a good fit in their current structure.


    Finally, Maris struggling seemed to slow, and her eyes gained a sharp clarity, the berserker rage slowly filtering out of her. It was all bullshit.


    Yes.


    But not the drinks at the end.


    Alten chuckled. Definitely not.


    There was a long silence as she absorbed that. I yield.


    We let her up, and the large woman walked to the reservoir, screaming for her men to stop. They listened, and within a few minutes they were organized again, though the two-thirds of her number that remained looked understandably cowed.


    Vogrin popped into existence. The other banners are organized and moving now. Safe to say they heard the racket.


    I swore. How long?


    Atheryas banner is fragmenting into pairs, spreading out along the treeline, Vogrin said, then squinted, the fabric that covered his eyes crinkling. Salven and Zin are marching in tandem, approaching the south and east, respectively.


    Checking to see what happened to Mari. I rubbed my forehead. In a way it was good, because theyd effectively lost the initiative. But they were being more cautious, which was less than ideal.


    What about me? Mari asked. Her expression was still a little wild, but shed organized the rest of her troops and approached with approximately eighty men in tow.


    Backup. I gave a quick run-down of our plan, then stopped. Is Salven as good as I think he is?


    Mari growled. Better. More tricks than a Panthanian brothel. Disciplined. Plenty of expertise to back it up. But Atheryas going to be our biggest problem once her people get vantages. Thwip thwip thwip til the sun sets.


    So Zin first?


    Mari nodded. We rush it. Batter him down, bend him over and tear as many ribbons as we can before cover becomes a problem. See that sword of his?


    When I said that I did, she continued. Hes fast with it, with strength to match. The man is, hands down, the best one-on-many fighter Ive ever seen. Knocks arrows out of the air like its nothing. Struggles one-on-one if you can match his speed or batter him with power, but if you try that and dont end it fast enough, hell use the swords range to his advantage.


    Magic?


    Air. Keeps it close range, but hes unnaturally fast with it.


    I was beginning to understand why Cephur picked her. Despite her brash, savage demeanor, she could be a pragmatist when the things she cared about werent under threat. And when they were, she was ready to die for them. She was being far more upfront with information than Id expected her to be.


    Sera, youre with me. Annette, you good on mana? I was getting increasingly worried about Atheryas banner getting too comfortable. My younger sister nodded, though she looked a bit frazzled as she approached. I leaned down and whispered: You okay? Guessing it was as chaotic down there as it was up here.


    Fine, she said, blinking several times. Just a little more intense than I imagined. And hot. Really hot.


    Whats with the princess? Mari asked. Thought you dragging her into this was a little weird, but couldnt put my finger on why.


    There wasnt really any harm in telling her. If they were going to be my regiment, they were going to know, eventually. I shrugged. Annette did the bridge.


    Maris eyes immediately narrowed as she stared down my sister. I was about to divert attention by saying it was my idea, before Mari extended a slow fist towards Annette and held it out. Well played.


    Annette, completely caught off guard, tentatively returned the gesture, bumping the side of Maris fist with hers. Well fought.


    Mari nodded stoically before she turned to me. What now?


    Got any spare helmets lying around? I asked.

 Chapter 190: Whitefall XLIV

    Chapter 190: Whitefall XLIV


    Rock, Zin called out cautiously from our left, close to the front line of his soldiers. They were a more varied group compared to Maris, maintaining a more difficult formation to crack. Spear-wielding shield wall in the front, general infantry in the middle, and mages in the rear.


    Stone, Mari called back, completing the pass phrase. She turned her head and spit on the ground, holding back to speak with him as the rest of her formation marched on beside her. As they were approaching from our left side, Maris ribbons were hidden from view.


    Saw more than a few of ours coming out, Zin said, approaching slowly. He was around twenty span away when he stopped. Maybe he sensed something, or maybe he was just cautious. Trouble?


    Mari nodded, leaning to peer down the road in the direction her troops were marching. Chickenshit ambush. Slammed us with magic from a distance and burned away the ribbons. Only time we saw em, they ran that way.


    Zin nodded. Time to brew a bit of their own medicine. Still, he didnt move.


    Mari wasnt a natural liar, and it showed in her fidgeting and discomfort. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. Didnt see em cross over to the east side. Take the road to your left and we can probably pincer them.


    If he agreed, it would take them further from Salven and give us more time to deal with them.


    Zins dark eyes narrowed. Mari. Why are you standing that way


    From my hiding place, hidden behind the crumbling building to Maris right, I reached out to my nascent sparks and ignited the bundles of black powder on either side, setting off a chain of loud and disorienting explosions, one after another, and sent a huge amount of small rocks and bits of shrapnel flying around.


    The result was an attack thatwhile harmlessseemed like it was coming from everywhere. Zins soldiers spun to either side of the street, trying to catch sight of the unseen source.


    Simultaneously, Maris infantry switched direction toward Zin, feeding into the main road from either side. Mari led the charge, axe held over her head as I kept pace directly behind her, hand on the back of her armor.


    Through the gap between Maris helmet and her shoulder armor, I saw the realization hit Zin before anyone else. He turnedpresumably to scream for his troops to retreat. I blew the last charge of black powder closest to the street, buying us a few more seconds as the sound of the explosion scrambled Zins voice. A chunk of rock pinged off Maris shoulder, close to my hand, and she flinched but continued to charge, raising her axe above her head as she approached range.


    I slapped her shoulder, giving her the signal, and she dropped to one knee, holding her axe directly above her head and bracing the head with one hand.


    I leapt over her, kicking off the flat of the axe and flying through the air, diving directly for Zin. His eyes widened, and he drew the longsword, sending dual crescents of air in my path.


    Prefers close range. I thought, correcting Maris estimation. More than capable of long if the situation calls for it.


    Without a better option, I cast a static aegis beneath my feet and awkwardly launched off it, landing better on the second and redirecting my plunge toward Zin. The dark elf flicked his blade back, then forward again, launching another crescent of air directly at the single ribbon on my hip.


    I channeled mana into my sword, setting it ablaze, raising the temperature hot enough that the blade glowed white, then cleaved through the crescent, splitting it in two and passing through it harmlessly, finally landing and pirouetting to hide the weapon switch, my sword sizzling in its scabbard as I drew my lowhil sword breaker.


    Zin reacted on instinct to parry a sword that wasnt there, and found his blade pinned to the stone instead, wedged tightly between the tongs of the breaker.


    You grab the tiger by the tail, boy He cut off mid-hiss as I coldcocked him, driving my demonic arm into the side of his helmet, ringing like a gong, offering a silent apology as he slipped to the ground, eyes unfocused and dazed.


    I tore his blue ribbon from his hip right before a blunt arrow smashed into my collarbone with enough force to spin me around. It had come from straight on, the bowman that fired it hidden in the Everwood brush behind the wall. I threw back my head, directing my voice so it carried but didnt give Annettes location away. COVER!


    I held out my left arm and allowed the demonic transformation to recede, running mana through a new inscription, standing firm as the arrows plummeted towards me. Wispy tendrilsalmost invisiblesnaked the arrows out of the air, stopping them mid-flight a span from me. I didnt have to imagine how it looked from their perspective. In one of my early loops, Id seen one of Thoths associates do much the same. I knew firsthand how oppressive it was.


    I slowly rotated the arrows, then flung them back toward the hill. A couple spun, catching the air wrong and falling short. But most of them flew true, slamming through the greenery and out of sight.


    There was a quiet moment, where nothing happened. Then, almost palpably furious, the return volley beganone wave after another, staggered this time, so I couldnt grab them all at once.


    I didnt bother trying the same trick, instead dealing with the arrows the old-fashioned way, tracking them and moving out of the way, dancing from cover to cover as they pinged off the surroundings harmlessly.


    The shots finally stopped.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Annette take form, slipping out from the wall, panting, the patterning that camouflaged her fading away. With the archers dealt with, I jogged over to her. Finally ran out?


    Annette nodded, breathing hard. Was using more than I thought.


    You did great. I gently reached down and plucked the orange ribbon from her waist. Head back to the base camp. Keep your hands up so no one gets any ideas.


    My sister froze, her eyes locked onto a man lying supine on the ground. When I looked closer, with growing alarm I realized why. One of Zins soldiers was grasping at his throat, face slowly turning blue. I pulled the dwarven flare from my satchel and tilted it, firing it towards the south to communicate my intended path.


    Vogrin? I shouted.


    He appeared beside me, shifting slower now. The construct use was adding up. He was running out of mana. Which meant I was too.


    Yes? Vogrin asked.


    I reached down and slung the man over my shoulder by his arm. Unless Maya comes around the corner right now, hes not gonna make it if we wait for the support banner. Tell Alten to protect SeraI hesitatedand tell Sera she has command.


    Vogrin raised an eyebrow. Are you certain?


    If I was going to trust her with her own banner, that trust had to start somewhere. I nodded.


    Your will be done. Vogrin propelled himself across the battlefield toward Sera.


    I fully charged the inscriptions on my legs, back straining as I sprinted down the street and around the corner. My path took me past Salvens men. I nearly went around, but my instinct told me considering my cargo, he wouldnt interfere. Several started toward me, as if to intercept, when Salven held up a fist. I felt him watching me as I sprinted through the ruined street, praying my mana didnt run out before I made it back.


    ***


    Maya met me halfway and took the wounded soldier off my hands. The mans windpipe was damaged, but it was nothing she couldnt heal. When I returned, vision graying at the fringes, Salven was still there, standing in the same spot. Hed sent his troops away, presumably toward the still-raging battle, and waited for me, alone, spear and buckler held loosely in his hands.


    So, he said, giving his spear an idle spin. We finally have a moment alone.

 Chapter 191: Whitefall XLV

    Chapter 191: Whitefall XLV


    Calculating eyes looked me over, as Salvens spear came to rest at his side. What youve accomplished here today is nothing short of astonishing.


    I panted, my breath hot. Extensive as theyd grown, I was reaching the end of my reserves. My mana was all but gone, my stamina with it. Really threw a fly in the ointment, calling Zin back at the beginning.


    Salven chuckled. Couldnt just let them walk into it without some degree of guilt. His gaze grew thoughtful. Speaking of Zin. Would you like to know how a full-blooded dark elf and a violet infernal came to serve in the Kings army?


    Maris warning rang clearly in my mind. What was this? Was he baiting me? Was there some sort of trap I wasnt seeing? If hed just kept his men in position, he likely would have had me. Probably still did, if he was as good as Mari implied.


    I cautiously looked around, spotting no sign of an ambush, monitoring him in my peripheral. If he genuinely wanted to talk, I could use the moment to recover. Considering that he was fresher than me, the moment of respite would cost him more. Tell me.


    As part of the plains vanguard, of course. Salvens voice was smooth, betraying nothing. Fighting alongside the Silver Swords in the worst, bloodiest conditions possible, but never counted among their number. Never compensated the same way. Just thrown into battle, after battle, after battle, with nothing to show for it. Thats what Commander Cephur pulled us out of.


    That surprised me. I didnt even know that was a thing that happened.


    Its not common knowledge. Salven gave the spear another spin, and I tensed. He smiled at my reaction. Did you not think it odd, when King Valen suddenly revised his policies?


    Yes. It had shocked me more than anyone.


    My time in the plains was nigh unbearable. But it made me into what I am today. Believe it or not, for that trade, I bear him no ill will. So long as this change is authentic. He hefted his spear and aimed the tip at me. Apologies for my earlier coyness. My family in the enclave sends me missives. Ive been following your exploits for some time. It was my intention to test you today, but after seeing the results, it occurred to me that you might be one of a handful of people capable of a feat most believe impossible. Not now, of course, but later. And its left me with a question that cannot go unanswered.


    Which is?


    The spear tip remained pointed at me, as Salvens face grew serious. If this all proves to be nothing more than a facade to rally support for the coming conflict and once the arch-mage is slain, the King returns to his previous policy of banishment and persecution. Will you stand against him?


    I thought of Ragnarok. Of Lillian, and the better world I vowed to create for her. I felt a stirring of resistance, of hope that Gil truly had changed for the better. But when I searched for the answer, it was the same as it always had been.


    I want to believe my fathers change is genuine. That if it is purely rational, he will bear no spite toward those who aided him in his time of need. However. Should what you describe come to pass? I will do whatever it takes, I said.


    Salven lowered his spear. This time, when he smiled, it was genuine. Then I have seen what I needed to see. Thank you for answering my question. He reached down and plucked the blue ribbon from his ringlet. However, I will not deny my troops a bit of sport. His lip quirked. It may be wise to hurry.


    I rushed past him.


    ***


    The battle had moved to the back corner of the ruins, as Salvens new arrivals whittled our collective troops down to almost nothing. Theyd taken heavy casualties as well, and the number of soldiers that remained with intact ribbons grew scant. When I found Sera, she was propping herself up with her swords hilt, the tip of the blade pressed into a crack in the ground, down on one knee. Alten fought a trio of soldiers nearby, trying to buy Sera time while she recovered. She was bleeding heavily, hilt pressing into her forehead as her entire body shuddered.


    She saw me, and a wave of panic went through her. Im sorry. I tried but they just


    I shrugged it off, incinerating the ribbon of a man rushing towards us, blocking his strike, pointing out the ribbon, and sending him back towards more of Salvens men. You did well. Can you still fight?


    II dont know. I dont understand how youre still going. Its Sera pressed a hand to her chest. Getting hard to breathe.


    Vision graying?


    Yeah.


    Same here. There were so few soldiers left on the battlefield, it felt agonizing to even consider this. But I had to say it. Retreat if you need to. Ill do my best to finish it.


    Guessing were all about to hear itow, Thelysea rubbed the back of her head, scowling after Salven cuffed her.


    Mari stuck her chin out at me. I think our new leadership is trying to squirrel his way out of drinks.


    ***


    The night of drinking was a merry one, spent swapping stories with my regiment. Some of the rank and file still seemed confused about what exactly had happened, but the banner lieutenants attitude toward me had shifted, and the soldiers beneath them tentatively followed suit.


    The several gold rods worth of drinks didnt hurt either.


    I tried to moderate, but there were too many cheers, and drinking songs, and eventually I finally stumbled out, my mind swimming.


    Watching the bustle of people coming and going at the late hour, that same unfamiliar sensation of peace washed over me. There was so much beauty in this place, it made me ache thinking of how easily and callously Id disregarded it in that first life.


    Above, the celestial orb hung in the midnight canvas, alight with silver flame. It was an ethereal beacon, a luminary disc of molten silver. The gentle glow that radiated was a tender, caressing luminance that added depth to the darkness, creating a cavalcade of shadows marching upon the earth below. Between the gaps in the buildings, it cast bright fingers of light that gleamed with dust, one of which formed an illuminated line on my right.


    One of which looked vaguely like a threshold. It felt familiar, somehow. Like a memory. Or a warning. A line that once crossed, could never be uncrossed, its permanence scrawled forever in the annals of time.


    Elphion, the ale is getting to me.


    Cairn, a voice called from behind me. I drunkenly turned to find Maya had followed me out. There was enough fear in her eyes that it cut through the haze of liquor and sobered me.


    Whats wrong? I asked, not understanding what could have frightened her so.


    Nothing. Just come back inside? Mayas voice was tight, filled with barely controlled panic.


    I looked around, doing a full circle, swooning as I searched for any sign of danger. And then realized where we were. Why this street felt so damn familiar.


    Grays Apothecary was only a few buildings down. Just beyond the threshold of moonlight.


    Was this why you were so upset a few nights ago? I asked, something heavy settling down over my shoulders. You came looking for her because you knew I couldnt?


    And saw what?


    Maya nodded too many times, her face transformed by strain into a rictus. Nilend.


    I took a step backward, toward the moonlight. What happened?


    Maya shook her head, her lip quivering. Come back inside.


    My breath came in ragged gasps. What. Happened?


    The rasped words were so quiet I had to strain to hear. Infaris was right. I couldnt understand how, or why, or why the hells she would care, until I saw for myself. And I realized how very right she was. Her voice grew bitter, and a lone tear streaked down Mayas cheek. Please Nilend. Just let me spare you this. Let me protect you. Please.


    On any other day, for any other reason, I would have listened. But what I saw in the tortured, grieving lines of Mayas face solidified a knot of terror in my chest. Because she wasnt grieving for herself. She was grieving for me.


    I turned and fled across the threshold.

 Chapter 192: Lillian IV.

    Chapter 192: Lillian IV.


    Lillian walked down the long, winding road that would eventually lead her to the apothecary. It was approaching evening now, the streets of Topside filled with day laborers returning home after a full shift, with tired eyes and aching backs.


    After a shortyet long enough to be politedeliberation, she had declined the foxs offer, having decided that while it was one thing to entertain a demons fancy while they blocked your way, it was a different sort of foolishness entirely to follow them elsewhere. It seemed disappointed by the outcome, but didnt argue or try to sway her.


    It had simply let her go.


    And when she looked back, the fox had vanished into the ether.


    Even if it wasnt some sort of trap, or trick, the idea of learning to hunt magical creatures that carried bezoars sounded like the beginning of a far-fetched fairy tale. One that skewed cruel. Magical creatures were supposedly much more intelligent than their mundane counterparts. Shed never intentionally harmed something intelligent in her life, let alone hunted it for parts. If that was where alchemy led, perhaps Gunther was wise to steer clear of it.


    On some level she knew that this was a lie. A more pleasant cover for the murkier, more difficult to define reason that was as multifaceted as it was difficult to face.


    It began with her mind. Or rather, the shortcomings of it. Yes, she understood the basics of apothecary work, but that didnt come from a knack or talent. It came from being raised by someone who practiced the craft, and long days and evenings of eye-numbing study, during which she barely retained half of what she read.It took multiple rereadings to commit anything remotely complicated to memory. Even now, with her knowledge finally approaching a workmans level of competency, she constantly forgot the names of plants and ingredients.


    She wasnt pretty, either. Freckles ran rampant over her face. Her eyes were too close together, and she had a slight hunch from all the nights spent leaning over dusty books illuminated by candlelight.


    If she was honest, the reason shed turned the fox down, with all his murmurings of her exceptionality and enigmatic qualities? It was because he was clearly wrong. Hed confused her for someone else. Someone better. Looking back over the course of her life, all the way to the present, there wasnt a single thing about her that stood out as anything other than average.


    After the sobering events of the day, she could see with clarity that her recent fixation on alchemy was nothing more than another in a long line of fleeting obsessions. Before alchemy, infrastructure had fascinated her, coming up with ways to improve and streamline the tight, winding roads of Topside. Before that, shed latched on to blacksmithing, enthralled with the forging and shaping of molten metal. That too had faded. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    And before that?


    She was fairly certain shed wanted a pony.


    The fox was wrong. There was nothing special about her.


    Rough night the boy slurred, the syllables of his words barely distinguishable from each other.


    Looks that way. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear only to have it fall back down. Can you tell me who you are?


    Arn Arn? That didnt sound like a name. Was he just parroting what she said, or did she mishear it?


    Can you tell me your family name? If the boy was lucid enough, maybe she could alert his family to what had happened. She couldnt move him like this.


    icks the boy said, then fell quiet. She tapped his face as gently as she could, and asked more questions. Tried to rouse him again, keep him awake. But there was no response.


    Tears pooled in her eyes, obscuring her vision. Gods. Im completely useless.


    Average. Not special. Useless. Lillian.


    Leave me alone, Lillian hissed, barely realizing she was responding aloud.


    To what end?


    That would be telling, she snapped. Then her hand brushed her satchel, and something occurred to her. Something important. In a rush, she undid her satchel, reaching beneath the clump of ruined moss and withdrawing the glowing bezoar. It was an alchemical catalyst, but that was only one use. According to the texts, that was almost outshone by its potent healing qualities.


    Unsure of how to draw them out, she held the bezoar to his lips.


    It shuddered in her hand and dissolved, glowing particulates fragmenting, drifting into the boys mouth and down his throat. Lillian watched in abject wonder as the bruises on his neck faded. When she bent down to check, the wound on his headgaping and angry moments beforewas already half-closed. His eyes flicked open, pupils much closer to equal.


    We need to get you somewhere safe, Lillian said. He didnt seem to understand her, but responded as she hauled him up, clinging to her for support. Just stay awake, and keep listening to the sound of my voice

 Chapter 193: Whitefall XLVI (Book 3 End)

    Chapter 193: Whitefall XLVI (Book 3 End)


    The decrepit building had been abandoned for years. The once slightly fogged windows were now completely opaque. Even the hammered-on boards that barred entry to the door looked so old they were falling apart. A drunk lay on the ground, either dead or on his way out, next to a wooden sign that had long since fallen from its iron posting, old text barely legible from the decay, the small smiling face that had been carved into it nowhere to be seen.


    Grays Apothecary.


    You knew, I said. It wasnt an accusation. Just a statement of fact.


    Cairn. Please. Im so sorry. I didnt want to lie or keep it from you, but it was just so cruel. So pointlessly and miserably cruel. And youve been so happy, Maya wept.


    Since my return to Whitefall, Id been almost sick with worry. It had all come so easily, gone so smoothly, that Id begun to sense the hammer, poised to strike down at my head, constantly surprised when I looked up, convinced that this would be the day when things finally took a turn. But Id been looking in the wrong place. There was no hammer hovering above me.


    Because it had already fallen.


    From the looks of it, quite some time ago.


    Something inside me tore.

 Chapter 194: Fracture I

    Chapter 194: Fracture I


    Do you ever wonder what love is? Lillian whispered. My eyes had grown heavy from sleep, the dim warm light of the inns shuttered lantern radiating softly. There was music from elsewhere, likely the tavern next door, and even through what had to be several sets of thick wooden walls, I could hear the muffled sound of a female-sung serenade, propped up by the low-vibration of barely audible strings.


    She was fond of these late night ruminations and always asked the hardest questions just as I was about to drift off to nothingness. And it was a hard question. Chiefly because she wouldnt be satisfied with an off-the-cuff response. I know its what I feel for you, or, You taught me what it was, would likely earn little more than an eye-roll or a chuckle. If she was anyone else, I might have found it annoying based on timing alone.


    But because it was her, I found it endearing.


    I rolled over and took her in. She was propped up on one shoulder, and her dark eyes drank me in. She was light of hair. Lighter these days, from all the time we spent in the sun. The tiny brown marks of freckles dotted her nose. Theyd only seemed to grow more numerous as of late, to my delightand her chagrin. In something of a tragedy, the edge of the blanket was pulled high, providing too much coverage for my taste.


    I reached over and plucked at the top of her blanket playfully. If you need a refresher, I could find a way to remind you.


    That earned me a palm placed over my face, and a playful shove.


    Lech. Youre going to wear me down to nothing.


    Cant blame a man for trying.


    I settled back down on the pillow, allowing the playful moment to pass. She looked serious about her question. More serious than usual. But she was meek, and if I let the moment lapse, she would likely disregard it and never speak of it again. Abiding the conversation would likely take us into the late hours of the morning, but to hell with it. We had nothing but a days travel back to Whitefall ahead of us, and given my noble status, if I looked exhausted, anyone who saw me that mattered would just assume I was hungover.


    With that in mind, I blew air through my lips, laid back on the pillow, placed my arms behind my head, and settled in. Considering how many centuries an endless number of philosophers, poets, and bards have spent attempting to find an answer to that very question and still not come up with anything conclusive, it may help to narrow the scope.


    Lillian snorted. My apologies, professor.


    Ooh, what am I a professor of? A professor of


    If you speak the words professor of love, Ill pluck your chest hairs out, one by one.


    I held a protective hand over my chest. But theres hardly any to speak of. Theyre endangered.


    Best conserve them, then. Lillian stared into the darkness of the inn, her expression growing serious. I guess, whats stuck in my mind lately is loves connection to hate.


    Wherever Id thought she was going, it wasnt here. I sat up, pushing my back against the headboard.


    Do you hate me? I knew, almost beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she didnt. But it was the shadow that would stick with me, if I left the subtext where it laid. Which is why I felt a great deal of relief when the question itself seemed to startle her.


    She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair with a gentle smile. Never. I cant even imagine hating you. Which I suppose is why, I find the connection your philosophers, poets, and bards so often draw so unsettling.


    Now that the doubt was quenched, I tried to lock in to what was troubling her. Love and hate as two sides of the same banner.


    Yes. Her gaze was far away, thoughtful. And its not like its something Ive only heard of in theory. We see examples of it every day. Jilted lovers who cant be in the same room as each other. Families torn apart by parents who cant stand the thought of their children being in the same room as the person they once cherished above all others. It makes sense if they married for status, or security. But I have to imagine that some of themmaybe many of them, loved each other as surely as I love you.


    I blinked several times, ruminating on that before I formed an answer. As a dyed-in-the wool romantic, I could pontificate about love until Ragnarok. But placing it on the dissection table of rational thought didnt come naturally. New novel chapters are published on


    Its complicated. But I think the hatred youre describing is born from the void of a stolen future.


    Stolen? Lillian cocked her head.


    Think about it. I held my hand up, one finger extended. We begin life more or less alone. Theres family and friends of course, people to accompany andideallyguide us along our way, but in terms of our personal journey? No matter if its an adventure sprawling the continents, or a life confined to a single-city, we are all alone. I extended a second finger. Then along comes someone. A lover who could be more, a friend who holds a spark. An apothecary girl who rescues you from an alley. Maybe its short-lived, doesnt pan out. Or maybe, it turns out to be more. I pressed my fingers together, overlapping them. In which case, two journeys become one. You plan your lives together, rather than separate. Eventually your dreams for the future herald them in a starring role, and they graduate from surprise accompaniment to pre-requisite.


    And when it falls apart?


    Those dreams are shattered. That hope for the future is ground into dust. Thats where the hate stems from.


    So, like so much else, its selfishness disguised as hate. Lillian said, sounding disappointed with the conclusion.


    Not necessarily. Though thats part of it. I hesitated. I think what it depends on, when the dust settles, is which did you love more. The person you cared for? Or the future you lost?


    A shadow flickered over her expression. There was something more she wanted to ask, something she thought she probably shouldnt. It was something of a quirk, one she was entirely self-aware of and had described to me in detail. Because all too often it was the last question that got her in trouble.


    Which sometimes placed us at odds. Because I wanted to know her. All of her.


    Ask. I prompted.


    She slowly turned to look at me, her eyes brimming with tears. What of us? If something happened to drive us apart.


    Would you hate me?


    Maya nodded, her lips pursed.


    Ill let you live. But in return, Im going to take something from you. And you will wish that you had died.


    A shudder ran through me. He remember what happened to the people who lived here?


    It felt so impersonal, referring to them like that. And as questions went, it was unnecessary. Almost going through the motions. This was Thoth. Beyond toying with me, her methods were as brutal as they were efficient. Lillian and her father were gone.


    But I needed to know.


    Mayas lip trembled. Only that someone died.


    I felt like an echo of myself, reciting words I might have said with no meaning behind them. Someone. Singular?


    Thats what he said. But the way he talked about it


    Shit like this happens in Topside all the time, right? I said, unable to blunt the irony in my voice.


    Maya wiped tears from her cheeks, her expression hardening. Well figure it out. Someone has to know something, there just wasnt time to look into it properly.


    Why bother, when we both know where this ends?


    The voice of surrender gnawed at me from the inside. Even if it wasnt a foregone conclusion, they wouldnt talk to us. The denizens of Topside were happy to gossip about almost anything, but if theyd clam up hard at the first sign of any sort of official investigation. They didnt trust the guard, much less the nobility. And who could blame them?


    Shes gone.


    If I was the same person from my previous life, I might have cracked completely. Repressed the memory or broken entirely.


    Im not sure where to start.


    A heavy footprint sounded, echoing along the stretch of road as Sevran stepped around the corner. His mouth was set in an even line, and he was holding two untouched pints of ale. Behind him, Maris disturbed expression said everything. My banner lieutenants had come looking for me, and theyd been listening for some time.


    You do what all great leaders do when they reach an impasse. Delegate. Sevran looked up and down the building and frowned. Missing person?


    Persons. Maya corrected quietly.


    Im not sure you can help here. I mumbled. Nothing will still the tongues of these folk faster than armed guards, cresting their doorsteps.


    An armed inquisition, perhaps. Sevran nodded in agreement. But friends and family members will be greeted on far more open terms. You underestimate how many of our number come from this very stock.


    I hesitated.


    Sevran, mercifully, shoved a mug in my hand. I stared down at the beckoning golden liquid, upturning and guzzling it down as he spoke.


    I cannot profess to know you, but judging from preceding events and secondary accounts, you are not the sort of person who asks for help empty-handed. Nor are you the sort to make decisions lightly. Both qualities are respectable in a leader.


    To a point. Mari added.


    Sevran pointed at her, then took a step forward. I can also see that you are in pain. Whoever lived here meant something to you, yes?


    I couldnt bring myself to speak.


    Sevran continued, nailing me to the wall with every word. Youre worried that utilizing your regiment on a personal errand will fritter away the goodwill you just fought through fire to secure, and worse, that it will all be for naught.


    Was that why I didnt want his help? Why I wanted him to leave?


    Had I really grown that cold?


    That calculated?


    If so, youre a feckin fool. Mari scowled, her loud tenor startling me. Itd be one thing if you started ordering us around, settling scores with nobles on your account. This, though? There isnt a man or woman in the regiment who cant relate. Hells, most of the demis know someone whos gone missing in the last few years on account of the disappearances personally. Not a damn one of them would look down on you for this.


    Maya slipped beneath my arm, supporting me just as I thought I would topple from the onslaught.


    Sevran smiled apologetically. While brash, my colleague is correct. Well gather the regiment locals, forgo the armor and begin canvassing in the morning, sticking in small groups so we dont set the gossip mill ablaze. I opened my mouth, but he cut me off with a gentle hand. This is my initiative, as your lieutenant. You didnt ask. I volunteered.


    Okay. I relented.

 Chapter 195: Fracture II

    Chapter 195: Fracture II


    The silhouettes of people passed me by. They were shadows, barely definable by form, featureless and empty. Their faces were indecipherable and alien, as if someone had harshly sketched them in the background of some grander image.


    There was something I was supposed to be doing. Something important. The simple act of drawing the directive up from the blackness of my mind felt plodding and cumbersome, brimming with primal forewarning, not unlike the feeling that precedes plunging ones hand into fire. On some level, I knew what was happening to me. My mind was untethered, battered by the turn of events. If I could just find a focal point, something to home in on, I could bring myself back from it. The results would be temporary, and eventually Id return here, useless in the dark, but at least it would be something. At least I would be useful.


    Lillian had been that to me once. My anchor. Even in the darkest moments, when I was discouraged or gravely hurt and dying, and all I wanted was to run away. Id think of the promise I made. And how much happier shed be in the safer, better world I was trying to create.


    A fools dream, perhaps. But it comforted me. Grounded me.


    That was all gone now.The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))


    There was a cruel cackle somewhere in the background. I spun, searching for a golden eye in the sea of endless faces.


    Finding none.


    Perhaps therein laid the point. Shed both set the framework and carried it out flawlessly almost half-a-decade earlier. Thoth didnt have to be here, ready to mock me and throw salt in the wound. Because this spoke for itself.


    I laughed, remembering the way my image of her had shifted during our encounters in the Sanctum. Up to that point, she was more of a force of nature than a person in my mind. A natural disaster to be defended against and opposed, with little granularity otherwise. Discovering that she was working to purify the prime ley line, and despite her clear hatred of me still carrying out her original mission to subvert Ragnarok, and that at one point during her many loops we had been allies, completely muddied the waters.


    And perhaps, on some level, Id empathized. While I had no simple method for keeping track of the time Id spent in various loops, it probably added up to less than four or five additional years. By comparison, shed been doing this for at least a thousand. Maybe more.


    I thought wed found a span-wide island of common ground. That during our duel, and the clash that preceded it, Id discovered some small sliver of humanity in her.


    That perhaps despite our enmity, we could become allies once again, foes aligned towards a greater evil.


    But there was no evil greater than this.


    Lillian was a gentle soul. A cooling balm on an incendiary world. She wasnt a miracle worker, or a grand leader, or a prodigy. But she put in the work. She avoided arguments, judgment, and enjoyed helping people. Lillian and Gunther both went out of their way to aid the needy, sometimes digging into their own coffers to help those who couldnt help themselves.


    Before me, shed lived a perfectly ordinary, inoffensive life.


    And Thoth had shattered it, dredging spite and pettiness from a place so low and base I could barely even imagine it.


    No. Whatever I thought Id seen in the Sanctum, I was wrong. There was no good in my enemy. Whatever humanity shed held was eroded long before Id met her. And when the next opportunity arose, there would be no quarter given. I wouldnt hesitate, the way I had in the Sepulcher.


    No matter what it took.


    Regardless of what her motives were, or the still unrevealed mystery of what Id done in past lives to incite such hatred. Using every method, cruel trick, and power at my disposal.


    Id finish it.


    Airn. Someone was grabbing my shoulder, shaking me.


    I pulled my shoulder away, retreating from the touch.


    Cairn. Maya said again, expression conveying barely suppressed hurt.


    Finally, I came back to myself. The indecipherable faces passing on the cramped throughway regained clarity and detail. We were still on the street, though wed moved several blocks down, moving with the small groups of Mari and Sevrans banner as they canvassed the area, asking if anyone remembered the fate of the people who once ran the dilapidated apothecary down the street.


    What? I said, trying to banish the irritation from my voice.


    They found someone. Maya said, inclining her head in front of us.


    A soldier from my regiment, dressed in the generic grays of a Topside denizen, was waiting patiently with a nervous-looking farmer in tow. The man shod a wide-brimmed hat and apron, and had likely been pulled away from one of the many produce stalls that lined the street.


    You said thered be no trouble. The farmer half-whispered, half-hissed to the soldier that accompanied him. You promised, Cestus


    Cestus squinted in the sunlight. Judging from the perspiration accumulating on his forehead and his wincing-demeanor, he was still nursing a hangover like many of my regiment. Relax. The commanders not so bad, so long as youre not sporting any ribbons. Just go on and tell em what you told me.


    From the Farmers derisive look, he wasnt putting stock in that.


    After all, this had happened countless times before. Endless cycles that Thoth had lived through that ended badly. Every soul still living had shuffled off their mortality so many times that even most of the pantheon had lost interest and left us. That included the people I cared for. People I loved. Caught in a never-ending loop of death and rebirth, joy and tragedy, hope and despair.


    The swell of fear and bitterness that rose from within and threatened to lash out at everyone around me was still there. But with that consideration in mind it felt less. Diminished.


    I pushed down the fear and crippling doubt, containing and poking at it through the lens of apathy. Over the last few years, hundreds of Demi-humans had disappeared from Topside, many leaving behind family and friends who loved them.


    The truth was, this only felt so monumental because it was happening to me.


    I was nothing more than a grain of sand on the coastline of eternity, futilely attempting to change the tide.


    The particles before me thinned, growing translucent. The transformation spread upward, translucent streaks piercing up through the tunnel of darkness, stripping away the dark.


    Oh yes. I remembered how to do this.


    It was a solution for a different problem, a trick Id come up with to force myself to function when the consequences for failure was a painful death. I simply told myself it didnt matter. No matter how much agony, or trauma, or disfigurement I endured, it didnt matter. Because I would endure.


    Emotions are temporary and irrelevant. Shove them down. Find out what happened. Piece together why it happened. Respond accordingly. Move forward.


    Every wasted day was a day ceded to Thoth. In many ways, I was already losing. If I slowed down, let the despair hobble me, it would all be over in a lightning clap. The priceless opportunity this aberration in Thoths loops granted me would be frittered away on despair and self-loathing. And when Thoth failed to stop Ragnarok, as she had countless times before, Id be returned to the noble-nothing I once was.


    The funnel of ambient mana lost the last traces of its midnight blue coloring. Its outline was still visible. But far less oppressive than before.


    What did you do? Maya asked, puzzled. There was another buzz of mana on my palm, and the altered vision returned to normal.


    Reined it in. I responded ambivalently


    Instead of relief, somehow Maya looked more concerned. Im not saying you cant feel.


    I shrugged. We can test the limits later. Figure out the best applications and thresholds.


    Youre not hearing


    I hear you. I laced my fingers between hers and squeezed gently. Just let me do whats needed to get through this. Okay?


    With that, I let go. Her hand dropped to her side, and I felt her eyes boring holes into the back of my head as I returned to the soldier and farmer, still waiting nervously on the verge of the city street.


    Apologies. I gave them both a thin smile. Its been an unpleasant day.


    They both looked unsettled, but seemed to relax some.


    Pleasant nights often carry unpleasant mornings in their wake, Commander, Cestus joked, wincing slightly. Though this is probably a little more than unpleasant.


    Indeed. I turned my focus to the farmer. Tell me anything you can about the apothecary. If it bears fruit, therell be a reward in it for you.


    What kind of reward? The farmer asked.


    Depends on the information. More is better, so long as its accurate. The reward will reflect that.


    Enticed, and seeming to pick up from context that my previous demeanor resulted from matters that had nothing to do with him, the farmer openly scowled. You want his entire life story?


    His shift in attitude surprised me. Sorry. Whose?


    Him. The apothecarys The farmer pointed. Down the street, I recognized the drunk whod made a bed on the light layer of snow that covered the dirt-strewn corner beside Grays. He looked rough, even by the metric of top-side drunk, his wind-burned face lined with wrinkles and crags, a bottle held loosely in his hand. He held the look of many who fell on hard times without a clue of how they got there, shambling through the fragments of their remaining life stricken and exhausted.


    And in the clear light of day, I could see the rough state of his hands, layers of burns that accumulated over a lifetime of handling various volatile and acrid ingredients.


    With a clashing sensation of relief and horror, I recognized the man whod welcomed me into his home. The person whod indulged my curiosity, taught me the more complicated aspects of his craft.


    The father whose daughter Id failed twice over.


    Gunther.

 Chapter 196: Fracture III

    Chapter 196: Fracture III


    What happened?


    The question hung heavy in my mind as my regiment escorted Gunther back to the castle. There wasnt really a chance to talk to him. As much as I would have liked it to be a happy reunion, it was more of an arrest than anything else. Hed run from the first soldiers that approached himrun more of a juddering walk on account of his injured legand when theyd caught up to him easily, he fought with the ferocity of a feral animal backed into a corner.


    It took three full-grown men to bring him down, spitting and swearing, cursing their mothers in language more colorful than anything Id heard from the kindly man.


    I would have preferred to take him back to the palace, but there were drawbacks to that approach. Thaddeus had eyes everywhere, and while Gunther didnt have any secrets theyd care about, that didnt mean they wouldnt try to ferret something out. Failing that, the risk of someone potentially alerting my father that I was housing unwashed topside degenerates in our midst was too great. Now that Id found him, the last thing I wanted was for him to be harassed by would-be spies.


    In something of a compromise, I placed him in the residential section of the Grand Laboratory Id reserved for Eckor. While the rooms werent as opulent as the palace proper, they were still luxurious, and when Gunther realized he wasnt being thrown into the dungeon on trumped-up charges, hed reportedly calmed some, though there was still a wildness to his demeanor that made the servants nervous. Even so, they attended to his every need, feeding him until he was full, then bathing and clothing him.


    While I waited, I used the grand laboratorys facilities to pass the time and brewed myself several potions of iron-lung. There was nothing better for underwater traversal, but I was more interested in the lowered heart rate and sensation of calmness that accompanied the dose. The process was laborious and required complete attention, and the work distracted me from the turbulence that plagued my mind.


    Id just finished the first batch and sampled it, savoring the feeling of calmness that washed over me when a servant brought word that Gunther was ready.


    I knocked once and entered with a tray of tea.


    Gunther pulled his legs up to his chest immediately, taking up a small amount of space on the bed, his eyes narrow and distrusting. I could see more of him now that my servants had cut down on the muck and grime, but despite their efforts, he still carried a hard edge that hadnt been there in my memories of the man.


    Who are you? He growled.


    I placed the tray on his bedside table and pulled up a chair. A friend.


    Oh? I find that hard to believe. Gunther snapped.


    Why?


    What sort of friend has you tackled to the ground and dragged somewhere against your will?


    Fair point.


    The kind that feeds and clothes you after? I tried.


    Gunther grunted. He panned the room suspiciously before his gaze landed on the tray of tea. All this luxury supposed to distract me from the fact that Im a prisoner?


    Youre not a prisoner.


    Then I can go?


    Yes.


    The old manit was strange to think of him that way, but that was how he lookedstood and limped from the bed. Then pardon, but Ill be skipping the tea.


    It took all the self-control I had to let him go, standing from my chair and trailing after him as he threw open the door. Alten was posted outside, and the two looked each other up and down in an awkward standoff.


    Gonna try to claw my eyes out again? Alten asked. There were dark bags under his eyes from the drinking and lack of sleep, and he was sporting three vivid scratch marks high on his right cheek from their previous encounter.


    Planning on throwing a hood over my head and tossing me in the back of another wagon? Gunther challenged.


    Alten shook his head. Not today.


    Gunther stared him down, skirting around him towards the door he was brought in through and trying the handle, finding the door locked.


    Alten shot me a look before he returned his attention to Gunther, mouth quirked. Servants entrance. Gotta go through the front if youre leaving.


    With an irritated huff, Gunther picked up the pace, crossing the residential common room and throwing open the door Alten had indicated.


    Gods. He whispered, awestruck.


    I took a place beside him. The room was lined with glassware and equipment, a mix of alchemy and apothecary equipment of the highest quality. There were lines of worktables with several robed practitioners hard at work, giving us little more than a momentary glance.


    Gunther stumbled forward, looking everywhere at once, his expression dreamlike. What is this place?


    Youre not alone in that. Gunther rolled his eyes.


    I nodded. My family is well-positioned. Highly enough that I was afforded a shocking degree of autonomy in my studies, which naturally was used to shirk them at every turn. Instead of applying myself, I ventured out into the city every chance I could. Explored. Ended up in Topside more often than not because I found it interesting. Different.


    Gunthers mouth tightened. Lacking context, the picture I was painting for him wasnt benevolent. Folk in Topside were beset by nobles on all sides. Some were simply prospecting and window-shopping, while others got a thrill out of leaving their manors and mansions in common garb for more questionable delights. But I wanted to be as honest with him as the nature of my resets would allow.


    Lucky you didnt get yourself killed. Gunther said.


    It was foolish. And stubborn. I could have been mugged and beaten within a span of my life and I still wouldnt have stopped.


    Is this leading somewhere? Gunther asked. It wasnt unkind, or rude, though I wouldnt have held either against him. Just blunt. Same as he always was.


    I laughed. The sound was harsh, and brittle. It is. I have questions only you can answer. Was just working my way up to it, I guess.


    For the first time since wed reunited, Gunther seemed to sense my pain. Id done my best to hide it from him. But the facade was slipping.


    What sort of questions? He asked.


    The version of events Id composed and recited in my head to prepare for this was abridged, with the timing adjusted so it made sense. But it was as close to the truth as I could give him.


    One day, I ventured out to the edge of the Everwood. Found a girl there, gathering plants. Ingredients for apothecary work, or so I discovered. She had this smile that just made you want to know everything about her. Compared to noble children my age, she was riveting. She was trusting and kind, and seemed to enjoy my company, and I hers. In almost no time we became close. She had no idea I was a noble. Who my family was. Yet she offered her friendship freely, just the same. The first person to ever do so. I was so grateful to her for that. And being grateful, Id help her with her work, and in turn, she would teach me. We spent a year that way before I had to leave.


    All at once, Gunthers legs gave out. He sat down hard on one of the pullout stools beside the worktable, his head bowed, his mouth tight. How long were you gone?


    Five years. I answered.


    Gods. Gunther buried his face in his hands. Youre him.


    What do you mean? Slowly, I reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, then let it drop. At first it made little sense. While I derived the story I told him from truth, it was a truth that hadnt happened in this timeline. And even in my first life, I hadnt met Lillian until after my mother died.


    Let it go. Gunthers voice was forceful, raw. He supported himself with one hand as he staggered to his feet. Slowly, he limped away, his shoulders slumped.


    Wait. Why? I called after him, frustrated with the sudden turn. He didnt stop, didnt so much as look back.


    She was my daughter. Its no business of yours.


    I chased after him and raised my voice, a hair away from shouting. I loved her.


    Gunther turned with a sneer, a cutting remark likely at the ready. But when he saw me, he stopped. Grew somber. Aye. Maybe you did. He looked down and bit his lip. If Lillian taught you our craft, Im guessing at some point she gave you a lecture. Something about the line between poison and palliative being difficult to distinguish.


    If memory served, she had. One of our first lessons. I nodded slowly, wincing as her face swirled to the forefront of my mind.


    This is the one that kills you.


    Gunther pressed a shaking hand to his forehead. What did my daughter say on the matter?


    A good thing can be a bad thing in high quantities. How the reverse can also be true, though more rarely. And that the only real key to discerning the difference is research and experience.


    Gunther chuckled. She was always good at that. Boiling down complex concepts and yawning texts into something more digestible. He grew somber again. When everything went to hell. I wanted to know why. Because it seemed so senseless. Wed only ever tried to help people. Sure, we made some gold, but not much. And I had some debt, of course, but my payments were always on time. There was no reason for it. No justification that came remotely close to making sense. So I asked. Fully expecting it to be the end of me. Gunthers face grew pale. I was told that the reason for myfor my daughters misfortune had nothing to do with us at all. That everything that happened that horrible night was thanks to one person, and one person alone.


    The warmth Id felt working side by side with Gunther retreated, leaving me numb, cold.


    What was the message? I asked.


    Poison. Gunther watched me sympathetically for a moment, before he looked away. Pure and vile poison in the guise of spoken word. And she coated me with it, to one purpose. If youd found me a few years earlier, I might have still been angry enough to pass it along. But that fire has faded. And look at you. Youre no villain. Barely a man now. Half a decade ago you must have been little more than a child. I wont lower myself to forwarding her agenda. Just let it go.


    He was right, of course. Given his state, and the way he talked around it, it was simple enough to divine what happened from context. Lillian was gone. Whatever message Thoth left me was little more than salt in the wound.


    I wanted to listen. But ignoring this, letting it fester, would make it even more potent when Thoth threw it in my face later. I needed to know.


    Tell me what happened.

 Chapter 197: Fracture IV

    Chapter 197: Fracture IV


    The sensation of lost time washed over me again. It was strange. I could feel the sun beating down on me, the cold gust of a breeze as uneven pavement met my feet, but I didnt know where I was going.


    Only how to get there.


    There was something heavy gripped in my palm. The handle was wooden, round, and thick, not unlike a spears. If it was a spear, it was poorly weighted, heavy on the front side. From time to time my focus would ebb and the metal would clang off the ground, drawing glances from those who walked with me.


    It bounced off the ground again, tip catching an upturned cobblestone, and I slowed, confusion and disorientation clouding my senses. I wanted to sleep. The dirt-strewn ground below looked enticing, welcoming. If I laid down now, curled up a bit, it would be scant seconds before the void of unconsciousness welcomed me.


    Fingers threaded through my empty hand and tugged at me gently, pulling me back into motion and leading me through the streets, tugging me in the same direction as the hand that pressed at my back, guiding me through the haze.


    Someone was humming in a minor key, the notes gentle and aching and comforting, all at the same time.


    A dirge.


    I focused on it, allowed it to fill my mind, distracting me from the fear, the disorientation, filtering out everything but the song.


    The cobble beneath my feet gave way to grass, lined by bastions of stone.


    Beyond the verge of my perception, two people were talking. A woman and a man.


    This it? The woman asked.


    Unmarked. Six down from the gaudy circle of absolution, four to the left. Gotta be.


    The woman squeezed my hand. Cairn? Are you sure you want to do this?


    /////


    Gunther spoke. From the distance in his gaze and the way he held himself, clinging to an old cloth that was as stained and dirty as he was dry, he felt more like a projection than a person. The barracks room, where Id originally placed him for its warmth and proximity to the familiar, felt cold as a prison cell.


    She woke me first. Put a dagger to my throat. Told me if I made a sound shed cut me open, so on and so forth. I should have fought. I know that. Tore into her with everything I had. Didnt keep weapons in the bedroom back then, but can attest firsthand that teeth and nails make a serious dent from the properly motivated. I wasnt awake. Wasnt thinking clearly. Tried to bargain, tell her where the gold was. Business had been good, and if shed been an ordinary thief, it should have been enough. More than enough. But she wasnt interested. And before I could wise up to what was actually happening, shed already dragged me to the living room and tied me to a chair. What she tied me withId never seen anything like it. Reflective as metal, pliant as rope. Once she looped it around my waist and my limbs, it tightened on its own. And once it tightened, there was no getting out of it. She dragged over a second chair, facing it across from me. I thought she intended to sit in it, to question me, but she stayed on her feet. The whole time, she never stopped smiling. That smile haunts me, more than anything else.


    I asked him a question. I cant remember what it was.


    Probably. She certainly seemed to enjoy herself. A little too much.


    His comment echoed my own thoughts and experiences. Being my fathers son meant knowing, in detail, what bloodlust looked like. He enjoyed a challenge. And for a time, relished in the slaughter that followed it. But once the tide had turned, and the river of war ran with the blood of more innocents than warriors, his interest faded, the fire of cruelty flickering to boredom.


    Yet I was almost certain that in his place, Thoth would never grow tired of cruelty. Like a force of nature, her only purpose was to discharge her strength, no matter the target.


    I must have said something similar to Gunther, because he nodded.


    Its hard to explain. You have to remember that Ive had a lot of time to think about this. Replayed it in my mind, over and over. Ive met a few monsters in my yearshard to work in Topside without tripping over a few. In my experience, evil never announces itself as evil. But the way she was acting, the way she reveled in it she was like a smug demon from the fables of old. Ive never seen its like. And hope I never will again.


    /////


    Snap


    Maya snapped her fingers twice more in front of my face before I blinked, lowering her arm as I looked at her. A pale-white statue of Onara lingered behind the crest of a hill, hands pressed together in eternal supplication. Offering prayers for the dead.


    He back? Alten asked Maya, his expression neutral.


    I think so. Maya answered, staying focused on me. She placed both hands on my chin and tilted my gaze back towards her when it strayed. Nilend, I know this is hard, but I need an answer. Are you sure you want to do this? She repeated the question from earlier.


    I became aware of the weight still hefted in my hand. Oh uh. Yes. We still need confirmation.


    Is that all? Alten asked, an implication in his voice I couldnt quite parse.


    Maya made a threatening gesture in his direction, but I turned towards him. My honor guard had forgone his armor and was wearing a dark tabard. He was holding a shovel in one hand, its dark-iron head gently touching the dirt. Nearly identical to the shovel in mine.


    Yes. I said, only recalling the reasoning as I spoke it out loud.


    His eyes trailed to the grave at our feet. You realize theres only one thing were going to find down there?


    Worms.


    Enough. Maya said. Even if thats true, his rationale is sound.


    Illusion magic. I smiled thinly. Cant just pretend like it doesnt exist. Gotta rule it out. Its rare, but I dont doubt for a second its an arrow in Thoths quiver. Only way to know for sure would be to let Vogrin examine the remains.


    Id faked my own death much the same way. And if Id thought of it, Thoth had too.


    Alten grunted in frustration. Even if it is, to what end? Why would she go to all that effort to feign killing your friend?


    My mind was finally catching up. When it comes to Thoth, its best to assume the absolute worst. Then worsen that assumption by an order of magnitude. I stared down at the grave. Obviously, sometimes I still get it wrong.


    Preparing for the worst is one thing. But Im not sure how keeping her alive could be worse than this. Alten said. From the way Maya looked away, I could tell she agreed.


    My mouth was dry. Like an unhinged noble heretic digging up commoner graves.


    Alten nodded. To tell the truth, I dont care why youre doing it. Whether its truly for confirmation or if thats all noise and its some twisted manner of punishing yourself. I dont care. Thats your choice, and none of my business. But its my job to keep you safe from all threats. Doing this? Its exactly where Im meant to be.


    I was outnumbered, so I let it drop, taking a long drink from my canteen as they continued to work, waiting for the next rotation, Gunthers words echoing in my mind.


    /////


    The intruder slipped the knife between Lillians ribs. It must have been sharp because it went in easily, to almost no reaction. My baby just stiffened, went pale and slumped over. I started screaming. All that time Id been holding it in, trying to keep things from getting worse. But after that, what was the point? Picked up pretty quickly that there was something wrong with my voiceloud at first, but it immediately died off, like I was being muffled.


    The confirmation Id been waiting for, stated as bluntly and clearly as it could be. I felt nothing. Not because it meant nothing to me, but the repercussions were so broad and immutable I couldnt unpack them. Instead, I focused on the finer details, used that fixation to distract myself while the sensation of being slowly crushed intensified.


    I steepled my hands and stared down at them. Was there anything unusual about the knife she used? A green glow, perhaps? Something off with the blade itself?


    Uh no. The knife wasnt glowing, green or any other color. No visible magic of any kind. And there was nothing noteworthy about the blade. All that stood out was the strange suppression of sound. Andthere was a haze to my vision. It may have been strain, or anxiety, or just the blood rushing to my head. It felt surreal. Alien. Probably nothing more than shock, but it lingered until she left. No idea when she started it, but right around then I realized the walls around us were on fire.


    Knife-work. Fire. Chaos. The insistence on playing with her food. Absent the mystery spell, the murder was almost identical to the way shed ended my first life. Even in the numbness of shock, that fact stood out to me. If our paths hadnt crossed in the sanctum, Id undoubtedly believe shed carried it out that way by design, out of some sick sense of irony or symmetry. If her purpose was to inflict as much strife as possible, it was likely a tactical choice. After all, I didnt have to imagine how Lillian felt.


    I knew exactly how painful it was to die that way.


    But preceding our final clash in the Sanctum, Thoth had insisted that the memories from my last life werent from the most recent cycle. Thered been other loops I wasnt aware of in-between. And seeing how shed used that method to kill Lillian before wed had that conversation, it didnt track.


    Someone is screwing with us both.


    So, what? Was a blade to the lungs a go to method, and she just enjoyed killing people that way?


    Or was her appearance of frustration and the brief moment of vulnerability in the Sanctum nothing more than another mind-game.


    Every word she uttered was a lie.


    Lillian was just gasping struggling for every breath. Smoke made it worse. The intruder put a finger on my lips and silenced my screaming. Once I realized no one heard me, that no one was coming, I stopped. Because when I saw her injury, my medical instincts kicked in. There was a chance I could still save her. The shortness of breath came from a deflating lung, and the knife was blocking most of the bleeding. If she left me alive, there was a chance. A possibility I could save my daughter.


    I didnt bother with hope. Just held my silence as he continued.


    There was a sensea feeling, reallythat she wanted something from me. So I listened. She told me her name. Thoth. And after we made introductions, the sense of theatricality faded. She took the liberty of telling me I shouldnt grieve for Lillian. Because shed be nothing more than a disappointment. Squandered potential. That by the time she amounted to anything, it wouldnt matter, because the world itself would be over. That she was doing me a favor. Freeing me from an unnecessary burden. That the echoes of her death and how they affected others were the only significant achievement my daughter would ever manage. I got angry. Because of course I would. I had no expectations, no demands. She was a child. My only child. After she was born, there was a time I had ideas for what her future could hold. Nothing unreasonable. Just that I hoped shed follow in my footsteps and planned to eventually pass on the apothecary to her. But after her mother died, that disappeared. All I ever wanted for her was a comfortable life. A good life. Funny, right? Gunther laughed, the sound a hollow rasp.


    I smiled grimly, my face taut. Few children speak as highly of their parents as Lillian spoke of you. She had a good life. Far too short. But good, nonetheless.


    Gunther choked a little at that, cleared his throat before he continued on. Thoth told me that not long from now, a boy would come looking for Lillian. And then she gave me the message. After shed made me repeat it several times, something Lillian didmy view was blocked, so its impossible to say whatset her off. Thoth raised her voice, started screaming at Lillian for looking at her. Said her face was so weak it was disgusting. Threatened to carve it from her skull. But she didnt. Instead like it was nothing she tore the knife out of my daughters chest.


    A sense of weariness rolled in like a fog. I had confirmation that Lillian was gone. That Thoth had taken her life. This was enough, wasnt it?


    No.


    What was Thoths message? I asked.


    Gunthers face lost the faraway look, and he peered at me, almost irritated. I told you. It was poison.


    Perhaps it was. But from the beginning, nothing shed done was simple. There was always an angle, a hidden motive. I needed the poison.


    Maybe on some level, I wanted it.


    /////


    THUMP


    The noise was distinctly different from the previous dour rhythm of the shovel. The resonance was sturdy and unyielding, as if the shovel had struck a root.


    Or wood.


    Alten and Maya shared another look, much heavier than the last. We were all sweating and exhausted, but a surge of energy pushed me forward. I tossed aside the last of the dirt, the lighter brown of rotting wood that made up the front cover of the casket became more and more prevalent as I frantically swept it away.


    As we hefted the coffin out of the pit, I tried not to pay attention to how heavy it felt. The shift of something within.


    Once we got it out, Maya and Alten both stepped away.


    I didnt. The sense of urgency wasnt rational. I knew that, even as I tore at the nails, ripping them off with the head of the shovel, going down on my knees to pry the more stubborn ones free.


    All throughout, I fully expected someone to try to stop me. Maya, perhaps even Alten. Tell me to step back and prepare myself, to hold off, to give myself a minute.


    To wait.


    Neither of them did.


    I pried the lid open.


    And found the coffin empty. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter 198: Fracture V

    Chapter 198: Fracture V


    Shes not there. Relief and terror ran through me in equal measure. I paused, wiping my face on my sleeve, and stood, turning away from the empty casket. Id stated earlier that death wasnt the worst thing that could happen. On some level, I still believed that, but seeing the grave unoccupied had softened that perspective. If Lillian was in Thoths clutches, no matter how dire her circumstances, she could be saved.


    I would save her this time. I had to. It would take time to find her, more to come up with a plan to save her that wouldnt get either of us killed. But it was achievable now. Within the realm of possibility.


    My thoughts gained momentum as I paced. I need to speak to my father. Belay the attack at sea until we know where she is. Thoth wouldnt keep Lillian with her. Shes too smart for that. If the surprise attack succeeds and shes lost to the sea, theres a good chance shell have someone standing by with orders to


    I trailed off mid-sentence, because Maya was openly sobbing. Beside her, Alten looked stricken, his mouth tight.


    What? I asked.


    Nilend no. Maya embraced me. Her long nails dug into my back as she embraced me tightly. Come back to me. Dont break now. Dont let her take away everything youve done. Please, please come back to me.


    Unsure of what else to do, I stared at Alten, wide-eyed. Still grim and drawn, he extended his index finger behind me, towards the casket.


    The scent hit me first. A sweet and putrid odor that carried on the breeze.


    Im right here, Maya said, running a dirty hand through my hair. Ive got you.


    I placed a hand against her chest, gently pushing her away. Then turned around slowly and looked back down towards the casket.


    It was only then that I saw her. Truly saw her. Light of hair, but in practice it was closer to brown from dirt. Desiccated flesh where freckles used to be. Empty sockets that once housed deep brown chocolate eyes. A smile that was all teeth, gray and decayed.


    Vogrin appeared beside me. I had no memory of summoning him, but I must have. He drifted quietly beside the coffin, making a few vague gestures with a hand that glowed white and drew abstract shapes into the air.


    Then let the magic fade and shook his head.


    Almost completely unaware of what I was doing, I traced her cheek with the back of my knuckle.


    Fire rushed through me, starting from the top of my head and spreading across my entire body. The weight of a thousand worlds pressed down on my shoulders and I fell to a knee as ambient mana tore through me. I lost vision in one eye and the other grew blurry and hot, showing little more than vague outlines.


    What the fuck is happening? Altens voice, sounding far away. The wind came outta nowhere.


    The aura is back and Maya gasped. His eye.


    Is that demon fire?


    No. Its blue. Mayas voice was a dull echo, faintly resonating as my vision faded. And it looks like hers.


    It felt familiar, yet entirely new. The same seething tear from a half-decade ago that rendered me damaged and unconscious on the cusp of the enclave. Only this time, it was all-encompassing, washing through every pore, every hair, every neuron of my mind. Loss, pain, anger, despair were flooded away in a torrent of white hot agony, purifying everything I was to nothing but ash.


    All at once, my senses deadened. There was nothing. Either what I was feeling was too much, and part of my mind had shut down, or I was losing myself altogether.


    Still, there was a sense of calmness. Like standing in the eye of a storm.


    Fight it. Someones voice echoed into my consciousness, from what felt like a lifetime away.


    Why?


    The question resonated. It was easier to think, now that there was nothing but me and the darkness beyond. Empty and cold.


    What was the point?


    The naval strategy sounded great on paper. But from the thousands of years Thoth lived, and the hundreds of permutations of events shed seen, was it even statistically possible that shed never seen that before? That my father had never noticed her early, and thought of resorting to the methods of our ancestors to take her off the board?


    Of course he had. It would fail, just as every other attempt to even unsettle her had failed.


    Escape Barions clutches, only for Thoth to accost us in a nearby city.


    Win the infernals favor, only for her to outsource troops for her eventual invasion force.


    I managed a pained smile. Sorry father.


    For good this time.


    Stop.


    More aware now of the potential inferno if I lost consciousness, I reached out to the fire that surrounded me, feebly attempting to quench it. Despite my doubts, it responded almost instantaneously, fading to nothing.


    King Gil glanced at the scorched ground, unsatisfied. What I meant was stop dying.


    In more mundane circumstances, I might have laughed. It was just like him to command a dying man to keep breathing. For the moment, all I could manage was a weak cough. My good eye was losing focus again. Not sure that I can.


    And what of your ambition? The new Uskar you intended to forge?


    My chuckle sounded more like a sob. Thoth will never stop. Shell keep setting fires until theres nothing left but ash.


    He made an irritated noise and leaned back to speak to one of his honor guard. Where are the gods damned mages?


    On route now, my lord.


    Ill have them quartered if they drag their skirts. He muttered. There was a jostling of armor as he leaned down and spoke directly into my ear. Ive seen countless men lay down and wait for death. This solves nothing.


    A sliver of irritation stabbed into my mind, wresting me from the malaise. If I wasnt here


    What, your peasant girl would still be alive? He barked a laugh. Perhaps. But life is cheap, boy. Shes already targeted Whitefall for conquest. You think your death would stay her hand? That your peasant girl would survive the invasion you described? That anything beyond death and torment awaits those foolish enough to follow you in your absence.


    I slammed my fist against the ground. You dont understand.


    Oh, but I do. He hissed in my ear. You believe, if you just give up while your soul crumbles to nothing, that youll be a martyr. That the lives youll leave behind will be better for it. They wont. A slow smile spread across his face. And if you allow this to be your end, Ill make sure of it. Ill start with the infernal diplomat. Then the guard. Followed by every member of the regiment foolish enough to throw in their lot with you. Once theyre all dead, or cursing your name within the dungeons, Ill march straight to the enclave and history will repeat itself.


    A roiling anger rose within me. Of course hed show his true face when I was at my weakest. I spat, pinpricks of blood covering his cheek. Fuck you.


    He slapped me, the blow so gentle it barely turned my head. Good. Good. Hate me. Hate her. Stoke that fire until its so hot you can barely stand it. Burn away the grief until theres nothing left. Direct it where its due.


    Images of every cruelty Thoth had inflicted flashed through my mind, much as they had before, only this time, the memories were tinged in red. The words came unbidden, bubbling up from my chest, raw and cold. I dont just want her dead. I want her to suffer.


    Do I look like your fairy godmother? He asked.


    What?


    His smile was wide and cruel. Wishes dont make deeds, boy. No ones going to do it for you. And if you spend months bedridden, recovering from your injury, shes only going to get stronger.


    Soul-damage isnt something I can just walk off. How am I supposed to


    Find a way. He said, in a voice that denied excuse. As you always have.


    As much as I hated him at that moment, he was right. Thoth wasnt going to just stop existing because I was gone. Shed carry on, doggedly pursuing her mission with little care for those she trampled along the way. My death would serve as little more than a momentary satisfaction, a mundane footnote in a sprawling text. I had no idea how dire the state of my soul was, but going off of feeling alone, Id be lucky to be back on my feet within a year if it didnt kill me outright.


    But how?


    A single spark of violet flame remained on a scorched blade of grass, nearly spent. I reached out to it slowly, forcing it to burn brighter, the idea solidifying as it traveled the length of my arm and up towards my shoulder, lancing through my lips and down my throat.


    My mastery of the flame of absolution had been slow. At first Id used it primarily to seed small pockets of dantalion flame, and only more recently, to project myself to a distant point as instantaneous transport. The latter formed the base of my idea. Because teleporting wasnt as simple as displacing myself from one location to another. I was destroying myself and recreating my form from the ground up. It was impossible to heal myself or drastically alter my corporeal form, as I was recreating from memory and drawing from anything but my most vivid and recent memory of physical presence could easily spell disaster.


    Once Id disassembled myself entirely and not a fragment of my form remained, something did. A consciousness that grew dimmer the longer I remained in that state, but a consciousness just the same.


    My soul. It had to be.


    The ability was so new and tenuous I hadnt had the chance to examine it in detail. But if I was on the right track, there was a chance I could use the flame of absolution on my soul to piece it back together.


    I let the fire consume me. And my vision went dark.

 Chapter 199: Fracture VI

    Chapter 199: Fracture VI


    The sense of blindness and deafness was nothing new. What was absent was the feeling of clarity. That was all that separated the void that I created from the void I entered when I died. But this time the clarity was dim, muted. Like the feeling that comes seconds before drifting to sleep.


    I got the sense that relaxing in this state would mean never waking up again.


    With haste, I turned my focus inward. Id avoided doing so up to this point because I wasnt sure if I could. There werent any mirrors in the void, so it seemed as impossible trying to get an outside look at yourself without one. But I didnt have eyes. There was no physical barrier restricting me from doing so. And as alien as the sensation was, as I changed direction, my perspective shifted.


    Before me was a colossal mass of gray, asymmetrical malformed matter, bound by rings of ethereal blue that pulsed and bulged at strange intervals. Updated from


    To be blunt, it was staggeringly ugly. Briefly, I wondered if all souls looked this way, before discarding the thought as useless. I got the sensemore intuition than logicthat the mass had once been perfectly circular, degrading over reincarnations and resets, the circular bindings served as desperate patchwork, discarding any attempt to maintain form.


    Ralakos, a leader of the Enclave to whom I owed much, had implied that my soul was ancient. Reaching the end of its divine existence. Perhaps this was what he meant.


    I circled the mass, an endeavor that felt as if it took entirely too long. There was no sense of scale, nothing in the void to compare the size to. It could have been as large as a tower or small as a stone. I paused, at a section of the gray mass that bulged between two strands of indigo cording that shifted violet in color. It looked unstable, but when I brushed it, felt solid enough. Beneath the two strands was a dark plate of obsidian, sitting snugly against the section where the gray material looked to be sliced open, binding the wound together. I touched it, and almost immediately felt a warm, calming presence.


    Maya.


    So the obsidian resulted from our bond. A piece of her soul, grafted to mine. I lingered near it in a moment of gratitude before I continued on, completing the circle. There were many scars from injuries nearly as grave as the one thatd almost killed me before the enclave, only theyd appeared to form on their own.


    I moved back, confused. By now Id completed a full circle. Judging from the pain and how quickly the injury had immobilized me, I was sure thered be a dire looking wound, and that the wound itself would be obvious. But there was nothing.


    Unsure of what else to do, I continued in the same direction, intending to retrace my path more slowly this time.


    Instead of finding myself at my starting place, there was a whole other side to the mass Id somehow missed. And as it turned out, the wound was obvious. There was a crater-sized gap, the bands of magic that held it severed, floating outward, the blue-coloring growing dim. The crater was riddled with glowing crimson lashes I assumed were the souls equivalent of an open wound.


    The lashes seemed to move with purpose. They snagged pieces of detritus from the surrounding environment, bringing them back towards the wound and merging them into place. But given the extent of the damage, they might as well be building a castle with grains of sand.


    If I had a mouth, I would have frowned. Id never heard anything about a soul rebuilding itself. From all accounts, it was the opposite. They simply degraded and inevitably failed.


    A single eye peered the center of the lashes, its iris as crimson as the surrounding strands. It stared at the place I was standing, several crimson lashes rubbing its surface. Considering the lack of eyelid, it was likely clearing its vision.


    Not unlike a tumor.


    I maneuvered a spark of absolution towards the swelling, paying attention to the structure and composition of the top layer before I burned it away.


    A clear glass sphere glinted like a star through storm clouds. Its structure looked familiar somehow, as if Id seen a similar object before.


    Unless Im going crazy, thats a memory orb.


    They were rare, and prohibitively expensive even for my means. And as far as I knew, purely physical. So what the hells was one doing in my soul.


    Theres the skerpa. Before I could stop it, the eye reached out, pried the memory orb free with a sickening squelch, and flung it into the void. For a moment it looked as if it might fly forever before it halted mid-flight, then rocketed back towards the opening.


    The demon eye grew wide as it scrambled to cover the hole. Its coming back. Stop it! Stop it now!


    Unsure of what else to do, I maneuvered my presence between the orb and soul. It stopped at what would have been chest level, and rolled, its sapphire glow rotating as an invisible force attempted to push it past me.


    Stop it! The eye repeated in a panic. It was struggling to maneuver the corner piece and shield the fissure from the oncoming orb at the same time.


    Trying. I grunted, struggling to adjust myself to no avail. This wasnt going to work.


    There was another possibility. From my brief interaction with them, Id learned that most memory orbs could only be used once, the fragile shell that held them together consumed after the memory was absorbed. There was a possibility doing so would be the end of me, that Id be spreading my consciousness too thin. But when Ozra reviewed mine, it had been almost instantaneous.


    Gotta risk it.


    I focused on the core. There was a flash of light, and my surroundings changed.


    It was confusing, because while I was almost entirely certain I was back in my body, I wasnt in control of it. I was in the remains of a castle. The little writing present was in a language I didnt understand, the colors and decor entirely foreign. A feeling of power that washed over me, complete and overwhelming. My own power.


    And Thoth stood beside me.

 Chapter 200: Fracture VII

    Chapter 200: Fracture VII


    An outlandish vista rolled out before me, as vast and wide as the eye could see. My studies had covered geography extensively, yet, the rolling mounds of hellish embers and ash looked entirely alien. Dwarves, elves, and infernals battled twisted flesh amalgams of corrupted red beasts.


    There was a whoosh of wings directly overhead.


    I tried to move, to duck. But the signal my mind sent to my body went unrecognized, pathways that connected them sundered.


    Right, I was nothing more than a spectator here.


    Slowly, almost lazily, the me that was not me tilted my head up, watching as a gold metallic form blurred by motion flew overhead and plummeted straight down in a screeching dive, bathing the battlefield in white flame, pulling out of the dive at the last moment and flying low above the aftermath.


    Considering the reptilian shape of its head and massive, bat-like wings, the image was unmistakable.


    It wasnt a wyvern or dragon-hawk. That was a genuine dragon, straight out of legend.


    The only thing more shocking was how unimpressed I was. Instead of awestruck, or terrified, the alternate version of me almost felt disappointed. As if the appearance of a dragon was little more than routine.


    Dimly, as my awareness slipped further and further away, I realized what I was seeing.


    The end of all things.


    This iteration was always going to be a failure. Thoths voice. She lacked her usual malice, and when I turned away from the battlefield, there were dark bags under her eyes, and a slump to her shoulders. She looked exhausted. In her fist she held an elfs head by the dark, blood-sodden strands of his hair. If we ever pull this off, it will be without fighting a two-front war.


    A series of images flashed before my eyes. I remembered shaking his hand, a lifetime ago as he joined us as an ally. Weeping with him as he broke down, losing more and more of himself until there was almost nothing left. The three of us standing together on this very tower, watching the world end.


    Ume.


    Tie his knot before you killed him? I asked, my voice hollow.


    Hes gone.


    I swallowed, knowing the answer before I voiced the question. Was it quick?


    She didnt answer, for a moment, shame and rage struggling for dominance across her harsh features. As quick as his cowardice deserved.


    Gods. He wasnt a coward, Thoth, he lost his mind.


    Who could fucking blame him?


    Rage won out, and her mouth pulled wide, pointed teeth showing in a tight grimace. Its so tiring when you make excuses for them. She stood close enough that I could smell blood on her breath. Why were they all so weak? Weweve been here since the beginning. Hands just as bloody. Souls ragged and threadbare. Yet we are still standing.


    Maybe. But can you really say were better for it? I stared out over the chaos.


    There was no answer.


    How are the casualties? Thoth asked, disquieted but clearly ready to move on.


    Considerable. In line with expectations. I watched a clutch of dwarves under attack by a group of primate-style aberrations that always gave the infantry so much trouble. Magic flowed through my veins as I prepared to form a multifold glyph, outer circle formed from super-heated fire while the inner runes served to heal the dwarves. The dwarves all died before the outer circle formed as their defenses crumbled, and the sadistic monsters tore them limb from limb. I hissed, feeling annoyance. Not that the dwarves had died, but at myself, for trying to save them at all. Half left. Maybe less. Same as it always was without the orcs. Like you said. Ume screwed us from the start.


    Any of the titans show yet?


    I shook my head, melancholy as I always was at this point of the cycle.


    Every soldier that falls in a hopeless battle is a possible mage in the next iteration. Thoth pointed out. She was trying, in her own way, to comfort me.


    Lifetimes ago.


    Youd rather every sin weve committed be in vain? I asked coldly.


    Her eyes darted back and forth. With Ume undermining us this iteration, and that shit in Lese the iteration before, we havent had an ideal iteration in a while. What if we tried againjust one more, now that hes out of our hair?


    Out of our hair


    I stared down at where Umes head had landed, after shed tossed it away. The nausea returned, so powerful and overwhelming I nearly wretched. Once hed started showing the signs itd escalated quicker than the others. His inability to sleep, anger, and constant lashing out at everyone who looked at him wrong almost effortlessly transitioned to killing without purpose. The last time Id talked to him, hed barely made sense, spouting more half-babbled delusions of grandeur than anything approaching sane.


    And when Id told Thoth how far gone he was, shed immediately volunteered. Saw it as more challenge than tragedy.


    Had he really meant so little to her?


    Its time to face the facts. This isnt working, I said, extending my arm out towards the battlefield. One more run isnt going to change that. Even if you found a way to put the fear of the gods into the Orcs and brought them to our side in a single iterationwhich, be honest, its going to take more than one to get it right without Umeit wouldnt matter. Weve had them on our side for this before. Every time they fight, they fall. If we expend ourselves to mitigate the losses and engage the titans in a weakened state, they skewer us. If we save every portion of our reserves for the titans themselves and miraculously survive the battle, we, and everyone else, dies in the aftermath.


    But


    We need a stronger force. And for that to happen, I need to reach the summit. I said, my voice final.


    After letting that settle, I whispered. Its been decades since I reached the third tier of life magic. And ever since, I havent progressed. Not even a little. I need the power that only you can give me.


    Thoths face grew paler, skin ghostly white. But after a moment, her jaw set. Because of the numbness.


    Nothing shocks me anymore. Nothing hurts me anymore. Its like the person I was died a long time ago, and my body and mind are simply going through the motions. My soul hasnt changed in countless iterations. Im stuck in equilibrium.


    Though the whites of her eyes grew red, Thoth didnt cry. It was possible she wasnt even capable of it anymore.


    The sound of battle grew distant, more scattered. Another loss. Same as always.


    How many iterations do we even have left? A hundred? I asked quietly.


    Thoth shook her head.


    Less than that.


    Its not just my soul. As I continued, a feeling of heaviness pressed down on me. I cant even see them anymore. Theyre all just numbers in my head. People who can contribute to the fight and people who cant.


    No answer.


    Even if wed agreed on it as a hypothetical, it was much harder to face in practice. She needed more. She needed hope. I bit my lip, already regretting the cruelty of what I was about to do. Itll take some time to get my head right. And a lot of focused, intentional effort to break through. But maybe, after a few iterations on your own, after all this accumulated blood is washed away, I could see youand myselfwithout the taint of everything weve done and we can start anew.


    Thoth froze, every muscle in her body taut. I saw the calculations behind her eyes, the possibility of loss suddenly tempered with how badly she wanted the potential gain. Do you really believe that? She asked me.


    Yes. I lied.


    The truth was, all I wanted was a way out. To breathe again. To get away from the constant reminder of the person I was, the person Id become. The monster Id created.


    And I would have said anything to make that happen.


    Slowly, Thoth reached towards the sheath on her belt. And drew the ceremonial dagger, reflective silver still red with Umes blood.


    I tensed, instinctively reaching for my blade.


    You ask too much. She growled.

 Chapter 201: Fracture VIII

    Chapter 201: Fracture VIII


    What the hells?


    Id seen hints of this before. Glimmers of a past that cast Thoth not as an enemy, but as an ally. But from the way we talked, how that version of me felt, we werent just allies.


    We were friends.


    More than that, I was an agent. In that timeline, Id taken part in the Metamorphosis societys conspiracy to ward off Ragnarok. From the sound of it, I was one of the first. Same as Thoth. There wasnt a lot of hard information about the cult, there never had been, and Thaddeuss absence had severely impeded any advancement in that direction. But from what Ralakos had told me, it wasnt a small undertaking. They intended to use children with high potential for magical talentone of many tensions that eventually led Ralakos to walk away from the projectand from the way hed described it, thered been far more than three.


    My predecessor seemed saddened by the loss of the elf, but not at all surprised. More disquieting was the sense of finality to the proceedings.


    Had every other looper shared the same fate as the elf? Lost their minds over hundreds of iterations, countless wasted decades fighting against an enemy that could never truly be vanquished?


    As the hemorrhaging husk of my soul loomed over me, swimming in the nothingness of eternity, it left me with a final, unanswerable question.


    What the fuck was I supposed to do?


    No, really.


    I was approaching the limits of plausibility here. Even if I exploited every loop with potential, used vurseng to increase the time I spent conscious, squeezed every drop of blood, potential, and effort out of myself until there was nothing left, it still wouldnt be enough. Id lost, at the very least, centuries of experience. And the real number was almost definitively more. And assuming the absolute best casethat Thoth somehow hadnt reached the unknowable upper echelon of power my previous self was striving forshed still have a far better grasp on her power than I did.


    It was unwinnable. It always had been. There were plenty of signs to that effect, ample evidence to draw from. Id been here before. But before, it was different. Id always been able to find the one reason to push forward, the one small, key, sliver of hope to keep marching forward. To keep fighting. Now there was nothing. Just a vacuous hole, as dark as the void that surrounded me.


    Hate her. Stoke the fire until its so hot you can barely stand it.


    Clarity stilled the darkness, terrifying in its intensity. For all her self-righteous grandstanding, Thoth was the one who had betrayed me. Whatever our bond, whatever her history, it was the only explanation. My previous self hadnt intended to leave the loop indefinitely. His mind was shielded, but of that, I was sure. It was a temporary reprieve, one that carried with it the chance of ascending to a higher level of power. I couldnt imagine being willing to give up everything Id built. So, when she removed me from the loop, potentially the same way shed removed Ume, Id trusted her to bring me back in. And she hadnt.


    It wasnt until either by chance or outside intervention Id kept my memories of a loop, and been granted an ability that in some small way countered Thoths that Id been able to offer any opposition at all.Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    My essence moved back and forth in the spiritual equivalent of pacing, as I tried to put myself in the headspace of my unknowable patron.


    Again, why? Why bother? They must have known there was little to no chance of my offering all but the most token resistance. That the best I could do within my smaller loops would ensure my survival to the end, that even if I used every smaller loop to the fullest Id only reach a fraction of her centuries of accumulated power. Gods were not known for bestowing frivolous boons. Well, to some extent they were, but the boon Id received was anything but frivolous. If my gift was divine, given in a time where the gods themselves were fading from this plane, it was almost assuredly astronomically expensive, even by divine standards.


    So why? There had to be a reason. Something I had now that the previous loopers didnt.


    When we are born, our souls are pure. When we die, our souls are damaged. Pure arcane energy repairs the soulwhether you want to call that god, or the devil, or whatever elsebut it doesnt do a perfect job. Residual magic left behind after repairing a soul is where manifested elements come from.


    An idea formed. I floated above the eye, staring down at it, hoping my presence communicated disdain. I wonder what Ozra will do to you if you fail this simple task.


    Many bad things. It snapped. Awful, awful things. And you will be dead. Very dead.


    Then help me. And we both get what we want. I communicated the structure I intended to form, and the ideal way for the infernal bindings to be rearranged. Unless the mystery mage had been an infernal with dantalion flame, we were probably using different methods here. I didnt have access to whatever esoteric magic hed used, that was apparently obscure enough that it stumped a necromancer powerful enough to capture him. What I had was a demonic contract, and the reinforcing binding that supported it.


    The eye buzzed unhappily. No. Too risky. Far too risky. Im not allowed to adjust the terms of the contract.


    Interesting. Even in its demonic, tangible form, the eye-parasite still considered the chains as terms.


    Even if the soul itself is under threat? I asked.


    No answer.


    Shame. I shoved fingertips of fire into the depths of my soul, intentionally brushing against one of the vital sections. Up to then, the entire process had been unpleasant. Painful. But the pain had receded into a dull buzzing. That dull buzzing suddenly exploded into a deep vibration, rumbling within me.


    WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? The eye shouted.


    I withdrew the fire and plunged it in once more, directly beside the previous point, creating two cavernous holes. Because this is required. I will not stop. Ill keep at this until I reach the end, or theres nothing left.


    It seemed to regain some backbone at the threat. A bluff! All things fear their undoing. You would not dare.


    I tore out the barrier between the two, leaving a crater. Youve been with me since the Enclave. Im guessing youve seen much. My battles, my actions, my choices. Youve had a front-row seat for all of it. So tell me. After everything youve witnessed. You think nothingness is what I fear?


    There was a long silence. Long enough that I withdrew the fingers of flame, and prepared to plunge them in again, tearing the vital section free. Suddenly the eye disappeared, reappearing directly in the path of my ghostly hand. It squinted, the red iris barely visible.


    If this turns out to be some sort of ploy to escape your contract


    Its not. I interrupted.


    I will be punished. Severely. But the retribution I face will be a pittance compared to the penalty youll face in the hells. The eye said. Despite its pathetic appearance and voice, the threat carried enough weight that I got the impression it was probably telling the truth.


    Slowly, the chains unfurled, creating a spiral trellis.


    We built.

 Chapter 202: Fracture IX

    Chapter 202: Fracture IX


    My eyes opened slowly, the blur of unconsciousness fading to gossamer curtains shifting silently in the grasp of an unfelt breeze. Soft art decorated the walls, still lives, landscapes, all dyed in fading colors that had long since lost their original color. It all seemed so familiar, but my mind couldnt be bothered to make the connection. I was still lost in the annals of my soul.


    I also hadnt finished the reconstruction. Shaping a soul was far more of a monumental, arduous undertaking than Id realized. Destroying was far easier than creating. With the eyes help, Id created an initial framework. After perhaps a third of the work was complete, Id felt my connection to my body fading. It didnt seem to happen nearly as quickly as when I was transporting myself through the physical plane, but it still left much to be desired.


    The physical side effects made themselves known in short order. Tightness in my chest, lungs so bound I had to fight for every inhale. A panicky vibration pressing in at the sides of my temples. Pain, a pervading soreness that permeated every muscle, but that, I welcomed. Almost instinctively, I focused inward, and let the sting radiate. Because as long as I was preoccupied, I couldnt think about


    Long nails, longer than theyd ever been. A small smile eternalized on gray, desiccated lips, hinting at a secret that would never be uttered. Worms


    I choked, struggling to breathe. Every gasp ragged and stubborn.


    Thoth, cackling at a joke only she knew the punchline to.


    My fingers sunk into the soft material beneath my head. The edges of my vision tinged red.


    Make her SUFFER.


    Mana streamed into me as I unintentionally drew it. It felt different somehow, fuller. At first, I held the confused impression that the mana itself had changed. That it was richer, and Id been taken to some previously unknown place of power.


    But after a moment, I realized it wasnt the mana. It was me. I could perceive it more clearly now. Pull from it less selectively.


    I let it flood me. Breathing became easier. My vision sharpened. The scent of lavender filled my nostrils, so rich and overpowering it was almost nauseating. The texture of the chaise beneath me was still soft, but I could detect a near-minute inconsistency in the feathers that padded it. Before me was a circular marble table that housed a narrow-necked crystal vase. Its opening was so tight it nearly strangled the rose that emerged from it, stem visible through the glass stripped of both leaves and thorns.


    I realized where I was, moments before thin fingers stroked through my matted hair.


    Dont close your eyes. Her voice was aloof, dreamlike. But it carried a current of urgency beneath the surface.


    At the core of my weakness, there was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to stay there. To take comfort in a touch long denied. To weep. I nearly did. But in scant seconds, the weakness burned away, leaving only anger in its wake.


    I sat up slowly, removing my head from her lap, keeping my gaze focused on the table before us. So. Youve finally deigned to speak with me.


    The road to recovery has not been smooth, darling one. Queen Elaria placed her hand over mine. Yet I could not have walked it without you.


    I wish I could claim the recognition meant nothing to me. That the only matter of importance was her recovery. And it was. But hearing her acknowledge the part Id played slightly thawed the frost in my heart. I did little. Mayas the one you should be thanking.


    Perhaps. And I have. Yet the infernal diplomat would likely never have entered Whitefall willingly, were it not for the choices youve made.


    I laughed then, the noise harsh to my own ears. Because even without my intervention, Maya would have entered Whitefall and eventually made her way into the castle itself. In a very different context.


    It was all so gods damned twisted.


    Slowly, I removed my hand from beneath hers and stood. The curtains billowed in the breeze, the source a cracked-open window at the far end of the room. She always preferred her rooms to be unbearably cold. Apologies. Ive imposed too long on your recovery. Ill take my leave.


    I moved to do so, before she stopped me, her voice barely more than a whisper. Tell me about her. Visit  for the best novel reading experience


    Who? I asked, almost automatically, fearing the answer.


    The friend you lost.


    Slowly, I turned, looking at her for the first time. A long pearl nightgown framed her from the shoulders down. Her blonde hair, while unkempt, had regained some of its previous luster. She folded her hands in her lap, and somehow, she seemed smaller than Id remembered, almost timid, were it not for the emerald eyes that pierced straight through me the same way they always had.


    Again, the ice thawed. Yes, she wasnt being entirely forthright. Maya herself had described my mothers recovery as relatively smooth and untroubled, and I knew how good Maya was at her craft. But she broke her absence to watch over me in my darkest moment. And I knew whatever bitterness I felt towards her was likely displaced, a byproduct of the tragedy I was mired in.


    Her name was Lillian. She was an apothecarys daughter. And the arch-mage murdered her.


    That should have been the end. My mother could be domineering, but one of the key differences between her and King Gil was that she not only respected my boundaries, but encouraged me to set them. She never pushed.


    Which made it even more shocking when her demeanor soured. It happened quickly, the light and warmth went out of her like a torch left out in the rain. Fine. This shouldnt be surprising. Youve preferred your fathers counsel, as of late. Scurry off to him. Seek his thoughts on the matter.


    It was the spite that knocked me back. I couldnt fathom where it was coming from.


    Mother. What the hells are you talking about?


    She rolled her eyes and nibbled on well-worn fingernails, pulling her legs up beneath her. Of the many qualities the king possesses, easily impressed, is not one of them. Yet hes been bellowing your praises since your return. Her eyes turned accusatory. Calling you the son hes always wanted.


    A myriad of mixed emotions rose to the surface. It would have been difficult enough to parse this exchange if I wasnt reeling. As it was, it was practically impossible. I struggled still, trying to find the correct response. Father is a problematic leader. That much is self-evident. But you cannot deny he is a useful and powerful ally. If our interests align, what is the harm


    That you have the boldness to count a wolf among sheep shows how little you understand


    Hes done nothing wrong. I snapped, in a mix of incredulousness and frustration that was only magnified when her eyebrow shot up. Yes, he committed many atrocities in the past. His method of ruling is steeped in the ancient traditions of our ancestors, and they are methods that fell by the wayside for a reason. This is known. I returned here fully expecting him to undercut and shout me down at every turn. I was prepared to lead a rebellion against him if dire action was necessary. Yet hes done nothing but enable and support me. I cant say to what extent or significance, but its obvious that he is changing.


    Her mouth tightened. You see what you wish to see. And in doing so, conflate change with actions of convenience.


    Then what, exactly, do you expect me to do? I threw my arms up, fed up with the conflict and the fact shed chosen to broach it now, of all times. Perhaps it would be best to state preference directly, since only the gods know when well speak next.


    The queen held her silence. But the murder in her eyes spoke volumes.


    My jaw dropped. You want me to overthrow him.


    The minor rebellions. The way your lessons just happened to be relevant to whatever situation hed mired himself in. All the verbal jousting on the rare occasion we took meals together. The way youd look to me every time he did something particularly damning, making sure I realized the significance of it. Only, in my first life, you got sick. And the sickness drained the fight out of you.


    Thats what you always wanted. My mind raced, covering too much ground for me to process without speaking aloud. Why you acted so strange, the night of my return. The reason you refused to see me after. You were probably waiting for him to bring me back, kicking and screaming, ready to capitalize on all my anger at the injustice. Maybe you already had a plan. Only that didnt happen. Instead of quarreling, we found common ground.


    A hand covered her face. It was already lost. I could see that you would welcome his aid. And in return, he would turn your heart to hate.


    Something snapped within me, releasing a feral torrent. Anyone I love is someone Thoth can leverage. Any honor or compassion I show creates a point of weakness she will exploit. You can sit on your tuffet and drink your tea and pontificate on the necessity of goodness in the universe until the end of all things. But the truth remains. Love and honor do not win wars. Kindness will not shove the blade into her throat, nor the thumbs in her eyes. If you are correct, and its fathers intentions to harden me for trials yet to come, perhaps thats best. Tears streamed down my face. If he already had, perhaps I wouldnt feel this way. Maybe Id be exactly the sort of person capable of fighting her.


    Queen Elaria rose from the chaise and embraced me tightly. Though her arms were thin and frail, there was a surprising strength there. I resisted only for as long as it took for the words of comfort to reach me. Then returned the gesture, burying my face in her shoulder.


    Look at yourself, dear one, and tell me. Is that truly what you want?


    I turned willingly as she rotated me around, facing me towards a mirror on the wall. My haggard, unshaven visage, the unkemptness of my hair, the wrinkled state of my clothes and general tiredness in my face were all overshadowed by my right eye. Unlike my left, which was still relatively normal, the iris had expanded, growing a much more vibrant blue. And replacing the long dot of the iris was a black slit.


    It wasnt dissimilar to Thoths. Save the color, it was almost exactly the same. I cupped my hand over it instinctively.


    Internally, I realized that during the argument Id started channeling more mana than before. I relaxed, and stopped pulling at it, then removed my hand, holding my breath all the while. The iris had receded in size, losing some of its luminescence, my pupil was still slit but also seemed to revert, albeit more slowly.


    Id found nothing productive on Thoths eye, though Id researched the topic and inquired amongst powerful mages intensively. Ralakos was almost certain it was either the product of a demonic contract or a glamour, as it was not uncommon for powerful mages to wear them. I supposed now, I finally had an answer.


    Something occurred to me. A dark observation that had likely haunted me for some time, finally making itself known. Ill answer your question with a question, mother. The queens guard is loyal to you above all others, even the king himself. Its well known that father spends many of his evenings in your chambers, leaving his honor guard behind. If you were always so convinced of his wretchedness, why wait for my involvement? Why not solve the problem yourself?


    No matter how strong the warrior, or vibrant the magic, a sleeping man had no defense against a well-struck knife in the dark.


    I could see in the mirror, from the way her eyes slid to the side, that this was not the first time shed considered it. Slowly, her hands slipped from my shoulders.


    I stepped away from her, resisting the tug of regret as I exited her chambers and retreated down the long hallway. As much as my mother might prefer otherwise, the time for philosophizing and hand wringing was over. I had no intention of overthrowing my father unless he gave me reason to do so, given that there was little reason to divert from the existing plan. But the modifications to my soul had changed something.


    And I needed to figure out what it was.

 Chapter 203: Fracture X

    Chapter 203: Fracture X


    It was mid-day, maybe a little later. Instead of heading straight to the rooms, I diverted outside, heading towards the fountain a small distance from Annettes rooms. The same fountain Id tried to quench her from demon fire in, a lifetime ago. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)


    The snow on the ground was slush, and the fountain itself was flowing freely, cascading streams of water.


    I needed to get away. To think.


    With the way events had transpired, the queen turning me away every time I tried to visit after the return, Id had time to prepare for something like this. I thought Id prepared for the worst. That simply being ready for the only source of shelter and parental love to no longer be that person to me nowdespite the lengths Id gone to save herwas enough.


    I was so nave.


    Because this was worse. Considerably.


    If she had simply hated me, it would have been hard, but I could have come to terms with it. Eventually. Perhaps even made amends when the threat allowed. But her demeanor and actions hadnt been that of a parent disappointed with her child. The desperation, the franticness with which she beseeched me, were all parts of a whole I was entirely too familiar with. A near feverish effort to reel back a plot gone to ruin.


    That was all I was to her, now. A failed endeavor to forge a living weapon against my father.


    When I replayed some of my earliest memories from the beginning, it all fit. Part of the Queens enigma to me, as a child, was her complete adherence to an ethos that was entirely different from anything my father and the warmakers and schemers that bolstered him believed. Her world was one where a leader could be kind, where wars could be fought without sacrifice. Where heroes could win, without turning into monsters by the end.


    The queen wasnt a fool. Certainly not so much so that she believed the things she taught wholeheartedly. Shed made considerable sacrifices and compromises before I was even born. Marrying my father to guarantee an alliance between her house and his, staying his hand from her insurrectionist family.


    What shed done, shed done intentionally. Instilled a sense of false justice in me that was so far off the scale of realism it didnt even register. One that both my father and Whitefall itself would be judged by. It was an ingenious plan, really. Once her rose shaded interpretation of the world was solidified in my mind, there was little she had to do other than wait, and reinforce my dissatisfaction every time Whitefall moved in a questionable way.


    If she hadnt fallen ill, orin this lifetimelost contact with me for years, it probably would have worked.


    The king was a monster. The legions of nonhumans hed ruthlessly oppressed could not simply be discounted. But Id never had the luxury of giving him the benefit of the doubt, never been able to decide who he was for myself. Any goodness I might have found in him immediately and definitively tainted by the persistent whispering in my ear. Maybe, if Id been less inclined to hate him, so utterly jaded against anything he had to teach, the version of him I knew in this lifetime might have been a natural progression of our relationship.


    Even now, we did things differently. And I had no intention of following in the footsteps of his terror. Yet he still respected me, still allowed me to make my own decisions, now that he knew I was capable.


    It was all so backwards.


    I felt a presence behind me, before Vogrins smooth voice broke the silence. There are things I could teach you. Demons have had eons to experiment with the sort of dark magics typically forbidden in civilized societies.


    Doesnt exactly narrow it down. I said, feeling lost. Either he didnt have a point, or I wasnt in the headspace to see it.


    Vogrin crossed his arms, almost itching with excitement. Exactly. The signs lead everywhere, because that is what their intended purpose is. Distract. Misdirect. Point away from a truth that is far more simple.


    I thought about it. The beginning of the iteration. Thoth appeared within minutes of my return to my body. And relatively speaking she hadnt had that many people to her name. Compared to the overwhelming force that assaulted the city, the force shed gathered was relatively small. And the second time we clashed, shortly after I escaped the Everwood and Barions clutches, her force was mainly composed of middling mercenaries thatafter the ambush was unsuccessfulthe rangers made quick work of.


    There was only one logical explanation.


    Because Thoth isnt from Teragor, or Ignal. I realized, breathing out slowly. Shes from Uskar.


    And her blood is not solely her own. Vogrin drifted in front of me. Anyone who invests such effort in hiding their origins almost certainly has something to protect. Its possible she has a family of her own parents, a mother and father, siblings, even a child.


    My stomach twisted, as I realized what, exactly, he was offering.


    Vogrin continued, I could find them. You need only say the word. It would require the creation of a different, more economical golem, one with a massively extended detection range and capable of sustaining itself for long spans of time. And we would need several. Given that, they likely could not move on their own. But if instead, they were placed on trade caravans, each heading to a separate distant corner of the land then it would likely only be a matter of time.


    I swallowed. Putting aside everything else wrong with that, such a venture would stoke her ire like nothing else.


    I do not care. Vogrin snapped, losing his composure. She believes herself untouchable, above it all, that she can do whatever she wishes with no consequences, divine, mortal, infernal, or otherwise. And despite seemingly boundless power which could be used in far more productive manners, she consigns herself to tormenting my charge, torturing him with petty, puerile evils, chipping away with childish sadism. His eyes locked with mine. Let me show her the true nature of the evil she plays at.


    Vogrin was correct. The trade caravans coming and going from Whitefall traveled far and wide, spanning the entire continent. They were so regular and well-stocked that those who lived in more rural areas would venture out to meet them on their routes in order to purchase otherwise unattainable essentials. If the golems he made were as effective as he expected, and he consulted Annette and the merchants guild for calculations of range and route coverage, it was only a matter of time.


    For a moment, I let myself waver. A part of me wanted to give in right there. What did it matter? My hands were long since soiled. Id already failed the person Id vowed to protect. It should have been simple arithmetic. One more potential weapon brandished against Thoth, or squandered, left on the table.


    But nothing about this was simple.


    Ill think about it. I said, finally.


    As you please. Vogrin sighed and retied the cloth wrap around his eyes. But make haste. The sooner we seed golems amongst the caravans, the sooner they bear fruit. Admittedly, there will not be enough mana to make them until your soul recovers from turmoil His irritation shifted to confusion. He looked at me from the left, then the right, trying to study something beneath the surface. Eventually, he floated away from me, his jaw slack. What in the heavens have you done?


    I reached down, letting my fingertips graze the surface of the water. Slowly, I went through the same mental exercise my predecessor had when he ran Thoth through her paces in the contents of the memory orb. Ice formed, cradling my fingers in frost as it expanded outward, the thin layer expanding in an ever-widening radius.

 Chapter 204: Fracture XI

    Chapter 204: Fracture XI


    The yoke was gone. Every hangup, every doubt, every fear, none of it seemed to matter anymore. The worst had already happened. My soul had been torn asunder and reconstituted, leaving me with more mana than I knew what to do with, and a new element. It was almost enough to distract from the ache, the hollow in my chest that widened with every breath.


    Come on Mari, get after it like the oversized bloodhound you are! I yelled, radiating false cheer.


    You pansy-faced bastard! Mari hollered after me, huffing and puffing, cheeks flushed the color of strawberries as she chased me around the courtyard with an axe. What sort of fecking spar is this?


    The kind where I convince you Im still capable of leading.


    None of them showed any doubt or disloyalty, but I knew how it must have looked. Too weak to stand, practically quaking in my boots, completely checked out and a thousand windspan away as they combed Topside for Lillian. I needed to convince them that I was over it.


    Mari slammed her axe into the fountain, sundering the stone. Cocksucker!


    Are we fighting or flirting? I winked, then dodged away in a series of complex acrobatics that were more flash than practical, the sort of thing I would have never attempted in full armor. Multiple wind-aligned aegiss placed strategically around my body made the maneuver effortless. I landed on top of a planter, balancing on one foot on the rim, arms out for balance. Updated from


    She seemed to stop, center herself, and purge some of the anger instead of doggedly pursuing me.


    Good. She learned from the grand melee.


    With a slow, intentional motion, she leveraged the axe head towards me. Your ass is mine.


    Really doesnt clear up my question.


    The jape did the trick, and Mari charged again. I meant to take her more seriously now that she was winded, but the flash of motion at the edge of my vision told me my one-on-one time with her was over. With an upward thrust of my arm, I summoned a geyser of water from the fountain and plunged it down on top of her, drenching her leathers before flash freezing it.


    It didnt freeze her solid. Not only would doing so have been lethal, there wasnt nearly enough water for that, and everything Id heard from water element magicians pointed to such feats being vastly more trouble than they were worth. What it did do was cover her in a blanket of frost, immediately sapping her body heat and bringing her to one knee.


    I tumbled from the planter, diving beneath Zins slender blade, not nearly as gracefully as before. Still, I managed to right myself and face him. The dark elf wasnt fully focused, and while his blade was trained on me, his attention was split between me and Mari.


    Already to the second stage. That really a new awakening? Zin asked.


    Still getting the hang of it.


    I could manipulate streams of water better than a beginner, and the ice formation was an advanced skill, but there was one critical flaw. I couldnt generate water from nothing. Much to Vogrins irritation, after many attempts, I wasnt able to summon as much as a drop. The adjustments Id made to my soul hastened my third awakening, but it wasnt perfect. Id need to venture inward again, see if there were any flaws in the existing structure before I started trying for more.


    Zin stared at me. Gonna make me run?


    I shook my head. Tempting. But I think of the two of us, youre faster.


    I am.


    A crescent of focused wind barreled toward me with a flick of his wrist, lightning quick.


    Grunting, I leapt back, gained ground giving me time to counter his magic with a crescent of my own. The two wind-spells bisected each other and split apart, dissipating.


    Without missing a beat, Zin dove between them, practically flying as he swung his blade thrice wide, crescents of air creating a net. If I moved to the outside, the net would catch me. If I absorbed it, dove beneath or jumped over it, Zin would be right there in the middle, ready to follow-up.


    So I didnt bother.


    I formed another crescent alongside my blade, discreetly summoning a stream of water from the fountain, body blocking the maneuver from view. Zin grinned at the apparent mistake, sensing victory.


    A crescent blade of water, augmented and held together by air, Spiraled, dashing his spells, and slammed into his chest.


    I advanced.


    Wait Zin started


    I slammed my chitinous left fist into his head, pulling the punch at the last second. It still landed with enough impact to daze him, and he wobbled on his feet, openly glaring daggers. Been ready for a rematch since the first time you sucker punched me, and you still end it the same way.


    Sorry.


    A good fight.


    I could help but feel irritated by the interruption. We were only getting started, your grace.


    My father grinned. So you think. Ten seconds against the Serpent of the Plains has spelled the bloodied end of countless marauders. He approached Sevran, looking the smaller man up and down. Lot of men come back from a few tours and let themselves go. Get fat and complacent. But youre as hard as the day I met you.


    There was a considerable pause before Sevran offered a shallow bow. You honor me, my king.


    That spar of ours is never far from my mind. King Gil clapped a hand on Sevrans shoulder.


    Was it a spar? Sevrans mouth quirked.


    Well. I made a moderate effort to kill you, and you didnt die. Then you in turn tried to kill me and I was impressed with your efforts. Considering the very short list of those among the living who can claim both, it must have been. Dont you think? King Gil cocked his head.


    I suppose it was. Sevran allowed a small smile. Pity my spear broke when it did.


    King Gil sighed. Yes, that bothered me too. Just as we were getting to know each other. Perhaps someday soon, a rematch is in order.


    Sevrans expression grew dark. Live steel?


    Is there any better way?


    Sevran bowed again, his eyes never leaving my fathers. I look forward to it, your grace. With that, he took his leave.


    For the first time, I realized what my father was wearing. Id mistaken the light armor for the leathers he typically wore around the castle, but these were worn and cracked, and considerably thicker.


    Training leathers.


    I swallowed. To what do I owe the pleasure, father?


    As he unpacked the bundle under his arm, his voice rumbled. Im curious what youve done to instill such loyalty in your sister, in so short a time. Despite my insistencewhich was considerable, given the circumstancesshe refused to relay what the two of you were planning. I had to get it from Thaddeus, or risk breaking her. Regrettably, I did the former.


    Is Sera alright?


    Shell be fine.


    If I may ask, why would our plans matter to you?


    A massive hand grabbed the top of my breastplate and yanked me forward. His eyes were full of rage. You almost fucking died, boy. And despite the infernals mystical yammering and your bodyguards cagey report, I had very little explanation as to why. Of course I looked further into your affairs. Of course that fucking mattered to me.


    Some of the fire faded, and he pushed me back. You havent been quick to share with me since your return. I was about to refute that, but he shook his head, silencing me. I may not be much of a politician, but Ive held the crown long enough to know when I am being cut out.


    It was complicated.


    King Gil snorted. It is always complicated with you, boy. Probably complicated enough without forgetting who your allies are.


    I felt cold fingers grip my spine, as my father unpacked a shining object. It was a swordor sword to bea massive slab of steel with a hilt, the edges unsharpened.


    What are you doing?


    My father tested the weight, lifting and maneuvering the steel like it was nothing. Ive led many soldiers in my time. Seen enough men cut down to get a feel for the wounds that bleed, and the wounds that kill. They dont always kill right away. Sometimes the man heals and the wound kills him anyway. They gape when they should move, tremble instead of falling back. He looked at me coolly. I wont pretend to understand what happened to you. Thats the healers job, and the brands. What I do understand is that the wound slit you from throat to cunt. And while the rest of these fucks might buy that youre ready to lead them into battle, I dont.


    Fuck. I knew this would happen. I screwed up. Let him see me vulnerable. And now, hes going to walk back that trust.


    Thaddeus didnt know much, just enough to put together that you think theres something under the city abducting the demis. Maybe there is. Maybe there isnt. Ive waited to move on it, because I have no desire to steal your glory. But Ill be damned before I let you throw your life, and the life of these thankless fucks away because you couldnt tell a wound that simply bleeds, from a wound that kills.


    Subconsciously, I dug my heel into the dirt, shifting my weight. Then what do you suggest?


    His face grew serious, devoid of mockery or disdain. He leveraged the unfinished weapon at me, steel glinting in the sunlight. I respect your accomplishments. They are not without merit. And because of that respect, Ill give you a choice. Walk away. Or demonstrate for everyone watching that you are still the man you pretend to be.

 Chapter 205: Fracture XII

    Chapter 205: Fracture XII


    A challenge. One likely designed to test my limits while reminding me of my limitations. Nothing particularly surprising. If I looked at the sequence of events rationally, from the skirmish where I punched him in the face up to now, it was strange that he hadnt done this sooner.


    I was ready for it. Had been ready for it.


    What was surprising, was that he intended to administer that challenge himself. It wasnt about besting him, of course. He was a king of unreasonable expectations, but that was more unreasonable than most. More realistically, he wanted a good showing.


    Still, his readiness, his attire, the slab of metal on a stick all spoke to his intention. There was no getting out of this. Not now.


    So I searched for it, sifting for a nerve, a spark of rebellion, some natural curiosity of how Id stack up against him.


    I dug deep. And came up with nothing.


    There was a rustling of leathers as someone stood beside me. Theres got to be a more effective alternative. Mari said. She was high-strung at the best of times, but somehow looked more ill at ease now, her back ramrod straight.


    What the fuck did you say? King Gil snapped, leveling his attention on her in an instant. The air grew heavy with tension.


    Mari, to her credit, weathered the storm well, wavering, yet never succumbing to the pressure. She lowered her eyes, showing respect that did nothing to soften her words. I fecking said, your highness, that perhaps there is a better way of testing my captain than a spar.


    There some criticism youd like to air on the subject of how your king raises his son, Banner Lieutenant? He growled.


    Mari didnt blink. Instead, her eyes grew cold. I was about to get between them, when she spoke. Few years back, I served as a training officer in another unit. Littered with boys not yet men, though Ill go to my grave attestin that they showed more heart than any battalion twice their size. We had a standout though. Half-elf lug named Arion. Wasnt much between his ears other than flowers and poetry, but the man was built like an ox and had a mastery of the oversized bastards you lot favor. Mauls, axes, feck-off-swords. Didnt matter what. When he swung it, it was like watching an artist work. She cocked her head. Remember em?


    With a relaxed motion, he swung his blade up and rested it on his shoulder. I immediately tensed and instinctively reached for my hilt. No matter how relaxed or passive he appeared, it didnt matter. My father loved a surprise attack, ending a conflict quickly and definitively. His change in stance was meant to look casual, but the truth was, with the sword on his shoulder, we were both easily within striking range. I ignored him and watched the blade. It was both heavy-looking and considerably long, at least as tall as me. But for a high steel blade, it lacked the usual sheen.


    Smiths barely touched it. Untempered.


    I returned the gesture, simultaneously summoning water and navigating it from around the back of the fountain, attempting to mask my focus as I led a small stream of water through the grass towards his feet. As far as I could tell, he didnt notice, his attention entirely fixated on Mari. Something akin to respect flashed through his eyes, gone in an instant, replaced with casual disdain.


    Instantly, I grew more wary. That Mari was only indirect in her insubordination shouldnt matter. The king would only see the insubordination. The only reason she wasnt bleeding out on the ground right now with me above her, negotiating for clemency, while Maya tended her was because Gil was pleased with her resistance. Which meant he was testing for it. If he pivoted right now? Changed the terms? It wouldnt be because of Mari, brave as she was. It would be because he intended it from the start.


    Perhaps, there is wisdom to your words. My father cocked his head, flexing his fingers on his hilt slow and thoughtful. What then, boy? What would be a proper contest?


    Havent had a decent joust in a while. I tried. It was the one martial event where Id stand a chance against him. Assuming I dodged the lance and didnt take it on my shield.


    Thought you hated horses? The King frowned.


    Thats right. I hadnt really taken a liking to the beasts until I was thirteen or fourteen. In my defense and opinion, a horse was terrifying when it was twice as tall as you.


    Lets say Ive expanded my horizons.


    He waved dismissively. Regardless, a joust is too simple. Too quick. And no more a show of capacity for leadership than a spar. All at once, his expression went cold. Ah. I have it.


    I braced myself.


    Your sister has expended her usefulness here in Whitefall. Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

 Chapter 206: Fracture XIII

    Chapter 206: Fracture XIII


    The statement was delivered calmly, utterly matter-of-fact, without glee or remorse. Despite preparing for the worst, I felt an icy chill travel my spine. Was this it? The moment he finally turned? Showed his true face?


    A growl escaped my throat. Seras your gods-damned-daughter.


    So she is. But I wasnt talking about Sera. King Gil responded evenly.


    What?


    Annette is no longer needed here. She has done little for years, and serves no current or eventual advantage for the looming threat. King Gil stated matter-of-factly, as if he was listing the pros and cons of weaponry.


    Horse shit. I spat. Shes a tactical genius, worthy to retain on that merit alone. Updated from


    Genius. The king rolled his eyes, subtly enjoying the reaction he was raising. What wars has she won?


    What conflicts have you sought her counsel for? I countered, knowing the number was probably none. Annette won the battle against my regiment. Im no stranger to strategy but engineering a victory in a battle like that is beyond me. She knew the chokes, the terrain, where best to lay an ambush and where to avoid at all costs. Her knowledge is far more than hypothetical. Its practical, worthy of any general or lord of arms at your call.


    Yet I have many generals, and only two daughters. King Gil took a step forward, now a torso length away from me. My intention from the start was to marry one of them off to House Westmore.


    I nearly pondered why he was telling me this before the name sunk in, washing away everything else.


    The House of shady deals and slavers? I seethed.


    He sneered. Grow. Up. With my heirs absence, it made sense to keep them both close as contingencies. Now that youve returned, theres no need for both. A political marriage to House Westmore would serve us greatly. Offer more beneficial trade terms and secure supply lines overseas that could otherwise be bought out from beneath us. They will make considerable concessions in exchange for proximity to the crown. And if what I hear about the rarity of her magic is true, they will inevitably make more. With their full backing, no matter how long the war with the arch-mage extends, our coffers will never run dry.


    I struggled to keep my voice low. You informed me our current agenda was to end the war early.


    None. The deadline is nightfall. Annette is within the city walls. And I have instructed the city guard to turn a blind eye. He paused. To be clear, the Black Shields are simply following orders. One such order was to use blunted weapons. Given that knowledge, the terms of engagement are up to you.


    If you were concerned about the lethality of my response, it would have been wise to threaten something I cared about less. I breathed.


    Out of the corner of my eye, Mari stiffened.


    Good. King Gil nodded approval. Never cede an advantage to your enemy, given the choice


    Save it. I snapped. Even beyond what he intended for Annette, hed spent the morning interrogating Sera. As she hadnt told him what he wanted to hear, it wasnt hard to imagine how exactly that went for her. I was done listening to him. How do we begin?


    In the spirit of fairness, Ill allow a safe period for you to confer with your banner lieutenants. Form a strategy. When that discussion ends, or any out of the ordinary movement is spotted from your camp, including, He pointed his sword at Maya, the emissaryIt will be taken as a signal of readiness. There was a harsh crunch, followed by the vibrating keen of steel as he planted his blade into the ground, leaning on it and crossing his arms, assuming an expression of boredom.


    For a statement so simple, it was laden with deception. The tell was how reasonable it sounded. Hed sprung this on me out of nowhere, completely unexpectedly, giving me almost no time to prepare. If he was anyone else, the allowance of unlimited time to strategize would probably be a genuine olive branch. But this was King Gil. And the lessons he doled out so earnestly, such as never ceding an advantage to your enemy, were part of a core ethos he followed with the devoutness of a bishop. Further supported by the way he seemed intent on staying nearby, presenting himself as a threat.


    I needed to test something.


    Will you consider dispatching runners to alert and gather the rest of the regiment as out of the ordinary? I asked, keeping my tone neutral.


    He made a show of considering the question, then shook his head. No. But if they deviate from that exact order, or are instructed to gather here, there are limits to my generosity.


    Shit. It was a risk hed only take if Thaddeus had been summoned back from whatever hole hed crawled into since my return.


    Very well.


    I turned on my heel and jogged over to where my banner lieutenants were standing, Mari trailing behind me.

 Chapter 207: Fracture XIV

    Chapter 207: Fracture XIV


    Sevran and Maya were quietly conferring, while Zin looked up first. For someone so consistently unflappable, he looked unnerved. He pointed to a long dark ear with a grim expression. Heard everything, conveyed it to the others. Were trying to come up with a strategy.


    Caught the bit about runners? I asked, my mind racing.


    Sevran nodded. Sent my personal servant off the moment that was confirmed. The regiment should be assembled shortly.


    Wheres Atherya? I asked after the half-elf banner lieutenant. Shed been the least pleased to serve under me, and her silent refusal to take part in the spar was a way to remind me of that. As if the gods themselves had heard me, a silhouette plummeted from the high wall behind us, and she landed gracefully a few feet away.


    Out of everyone, Maya and I were the only ones who jumped.


    Present and accounted for, Aetherya announced, sounding awfully put upon for someone who had only just been bothered to show up.


    Lord below. Maya breathed.


    I stared at the elf. Despite her thoughtless entrance, she was dressed for combat, bow and full quiver on her back. What? So you were just up on the wall, waiting to be summoned?


    Aetherya nodded minutely, not bothering to offer any further explanation.


    She does that. Zin said. Think of it as functional brooding.


    And unnecessary theatricality. Sevran sighed.


    You had need of me. I am here. What then, is the problem? Aetherya asked, panning the other lieutenants with a dull look.


    Yes, your grace. Gratitude for deigning us with your presence. Only us being down one lieutenant instead of two wont matter with that feckin war elephant in the room. Mari chucked a thumb behind her. Hes clearly planning to wade in as soon as theres an excuse. Sevran and Prince Inferno in the mix, we might stand a chance if we attacked all at once, holding nothing back.


    Not the wisest move, politically. Zin murmured. If we set that pace he will meet it. And if against all odds we survive, we will gain the reputation as the regiment who attempted to turn a contest into a coup.


    Doesnt matter if its the only move we got. But theres a problem. Mari looked behind her at my fathers personal guard, lingering in the back. The Black Shields holding up pillars behind him are doing a good job of looking casual, I got a strong feeling they aint.


    Sevran nodded agreement. We were just discussing that. The Black Shields loyalty exceeds their discipline. His men will interfere if the odds turn against him, even if they have direct orders to the contrary.


    Maya bit her lip, then spoke. What if I get in close? I can incapacitate him without causing more harm than necessary and fix him after we find Annette.


    It was one of the first ideas I thought of and, unfortunately, discarded. I shook my head. Good idea, but with his experience, hes aware how much of a threat a life mage poses. He called you out specifically. My guess is, of everyone here, youre the one hes least likely to lose track of.


    And the most ready to put down.


    Were not talking about besting him in single combat. All it takes is a single touch. Maya argued. I can do it.


    I rubbed my face. First, consider his build and choice of armor. Hes tall enough that he towers over most of us, excepting Sevran. Training leathers cover him from foot to neck. Meaning not only will he be considerably faster than usual, youll also have to touch his head. Now think back, hard, to our skirmish outside the Enclave. How fast he was. He was wearing plate then. Are you faster? When Maya looked discouraged, like Id shot her down out of turn, I amended. Its not rhetorical, Maya. I honestly dont know. We havent sparred, and you saw plenty of combat in the Sanctum that I wasnt there for. Are you fast enough to land a touch, knowing we may not be able to pull his attention away from you?


    Her brow furrowed, and she spoke aloud, as much to herself as to us. If he was in plate maybe. I have my staff on hand, and the mana conductivity of xescalt isnt widely known because of the shortage. That would make up for the lack of reach but if hes faster than he was then? This chapter is updated by


    Sevran put a hand on her shoulder. Theres wisdom in knowing ones limits. He looked back towards where King Gil waited for the challenge, like a barbarian in a foreign land. But if he engages us the way I suspect, this avenue is moot. The infernals mouth thinned.


    Care to share with the group, Sevran? Mari goaded.


    The king will resort to insurgent tactics. The rational choice when outnumbered.


    Hes right. I realized, slightly horrified at my oversight. It was right there in his lessons. Hed hammered into me that If you found yourself taking on a superior force, you needed target the supply lines and healers first, skilled mages and casters second, whittling both groups down until they could no longer service the army you intended to undercut. If he succeeded, leaving us with no quick method of tending injured troops, the already difficult situation became an order of magnitude harder. Shes our only healer relevant to such a short timeline. The king will target Maya immediately, aiming to incapacitate. I stepped away and paced, irritated with myself for missing such an obvious detail. None of this would be a problem if we had greater numbers.


    Aetherya shifted uncomfortably.


    But the moment we call for troops he descends on us. Zin finished.


    Whats that? Mari sniffed at the air. Smells like treason in here.


    Before the half-elf could rise to the provocation, Sevran held out a hand. Enough. Speak plainly, Atherya.


    Atherya glanced at me, genuine fear in her eyes.


    I fought through the malaise threatening to drown me, struggling to speak. Whatever you did. If If it helps us here? Gives us an advantage we wouldnt have had otherwise? All is forgiven.


    There are a number of archers embedded on the walls and the surrounding rooftops. Atherya admitted.


    How many? I asked.


    Fifteen of my best. Atherya stared down at the ground. They were only to take action if the exercise escalated.


    What shed said before finally clicked into place. When Id invited them to spar, my banner lieutenant had feared the worst. Shed set up archers around the sparring grounds in case she needed to interfere, in case I shared my fathers penchant for taking things on the training field too far. On one hand, it stung. I thought Id demonstrated considerable competency and restraint during the mock battle, enough to dissuade this sort of fear.


    On the other hand, I couldnt be happier with the result.


    Thank you, Atherya. I said, truly meaning it.


    She looked up, her visage noble and proud. Am I to be relieved of command?


    Even if itd come from a place of fear and treason, shed given us the piece we needed.


    Finally, I shook my head. No. Even if I hadnt promised. You took action out of loyalty to your fellow lieutenants. Ill never punish loyalty. Though I hope that one day, Ill be on the other side of it.


    To her credit, Atherya seemed to acknowledge the statement as genuine, absorbing it silently, without an air of hostility.


    Five minutes later, I strode toward my father, pace accelerating the closer I drew.


    He watched my approach, unimpressed. Seeing how you left your troops behind, I assume youre here to negotiate.


    No.


    No? I was pleased to see the clipped response had thrown him off.


    Need to make him angry.


    You know what I think? I stalked towards him furiously, fists clenched at my side. I think you had this planned from the start. And I think you pushed me towards it. Because youve seen what I can do. And youre too much of a coward to risk your dignity in a straight fight.


    He squared up, yanking his sword from the dirt and holding it at his side. Spineless provocation accomplishes nothing, boy.


    Maybe I learned it from you. Least I didnt pick up your habit of hiding behind the skirts of innocents and threatening the weak as a bartering tactic.


    His eyes narrowed.


    Hit.


    If you need to be reminded of why I am king, that is a lesson Im happy to administer. He growled.


    Well? Go on then. Teach me.


    I drew my sword, igniting it with violet flame, heating the blade until it was almost white.


    And charged.

 Chapter 208: Fracture XV

    Chapter 208: Fracture XV


    The tactic could work. Even as I rushed towards him, boots crunching grass, I believed it fully. Lingering doubt and the mental fog that clouded me dissipated as I focused on him, leveraging every injustice, every cruel word, every snide, backhanded remark.


    Almost casually, he hefted his sword in a slow, casual arc, completely telegraphing the first downward diagonal swing. In the morning light, his blade caught the light, as if coated in oil.


    He started with a simple kata.


    And so far, at least, he hadnt noticed.


    I manipulated the water coating his steel, pouring mana through the weave, until the clear coating flash froze opaque, dimming the shine.


    There was a flash of doubt a split second before our swords met. His cool blue eyes shifted from me to the altered surface of his untempered blade. But Id already shifted, and instead of trying to hit him, I was aiming for the blade itself. Roaring flame hotter than any forge collided with the frigid ice of the north.


    And as the adage goes, ice sunders all.


    King Gils blade exploded into shrapnel and shards that whizzed through the air in a sphere, the solid, sturdy-looking metal reduced to ruin. In that brief moment, wonder flitted across his face. Which of course, was when I transferred all the momentum from the run, spared by the shattering sword, and drove my demonic arm into his gut.


    Because whether by divine gift or aberrant biology, Id learned from our first clash that the King of Whitefall had an iron jaw, and had no intention of making the same mistake twice.


    He grunted from the impact and bent forward slightly, a manic gleam in his eye. During the exchange hed caught my sword arm and now held it with a vice-like grip. My turn.


    Shit.


    Before I had time to think, let alone counter, I was airborne and inverted; the sky zipping by beneath my feet.


    Then I was splayed on my back, panting for the air that was knocked out of me. A dent in the back of my armor pressed up into my spine, and I called to the wind, forcing a torrent through my mouth and down my impact. After a moment, the contractions ceased. But I kept taking small gasps of air, feigning incapacity. Belatedly, I checked the xescalt gauntlet and found several gems were cracked, others outright crushed, the delicate mana pathways carved into the surface disabled from the damage.


    How? With his gods damned hand?


    King Gil stared down at me, more irritated than anything else now that the dust had settled. A less than ideal outcome. Someday soon, boy, we will need to discuss the difference between a marathon and a sprint. With that, he raised his heel above my head. Unlike before, the movement was measured and controlled. Still more than enough to knock me unconscious.


    My legs pumped as I descended the stairs, heading for the ground floor and aiming lower. As wed discussed, other than Aetherya, my lieutenants would be taking an alternate route, meeting with their soldiers outside the palace and then splitting up, taking varying paths that appeared to lead other directions but all eventually ending up in Topside, near Kilviuss headquarters. Out of every possibility of places House Westmore and the Black Shields could hide Annette, it had to be somewhere in Topside. Even if he wasnt the savviest political mind, my father was hardly stupid. He wouldnt risk an outbreak of violence around the critical houses, especially given the volatile state of things. It had to be Topside.


    Id avoided seeking Kilviuss help to locate Lillian. He probably would have, but given the recent rockiness of our relationship and the high likelihood she was dead, Id chosen not to cash in that chit. And thank the gods I hadnt.


    Before I could leave the palace, I needed to find Sera. If my lieutenants path was contested, Maya would stay with them. However, if the path was clear


    Cairn, cushion! Mayas voice echoed down the stairs just as I reached the bottom. I looked up to see her diving downward, narrowly threading the gaps in the rails.


    I summed a disc of air, solidifying it beneath her in scant seconds before she landed and threw her balance forward, running past me. Really want to get out before the pissed off king catches up to us!


    For a second, I stared before running after her. What the hells were you going to do if I didnt get the spell off in time?


    I knew you would.


    And if I hadnt?


    Used the shard of the mirror to heal my incredibly sore anklesgods Im out of shape. She glared at me as I jogged alongside her. Are they trying to fatten me up? The food Im served is far too decadent to eat every day.


    Youre keeping pace fine, but Ill tell the chefs to put you on porridge.


    Do that and wake up one day to find your lower intestine lined with taste buds.


    Equally amused and horrified, I laughed. Somehow, despite the severity of the situation I felt lighter. Partially from the adrenaline, partially because with the first hurdle cleared, I knew I could pass this test. House Westmore was primarily a merchant house. The black shields were observant, generally excellent fighters, but they were guardsmen first, trained to escort a king who was rarely anything but visible.


    Somehow it made me feel more like myself.


    Youre smiling. Maya observed.


    Yeah. I guess I am.

 Chapter 209: Fracture XVI

    Chapter 209: Fracture XVI


    The dim entryway to the section of the castle that housed the dungeon loomed in the distance. Retrieving Sera was outside the parameters my father had set. Regardless of her recent accomplishment, I got the feeling he didnt consider her a full banner lieutenant in my regiment, the thought simply hadnt occurred to him. There were two guards in standard uskarrion armor.


    Are we sure Seras in the dungeon? Maya asked.


    Not necessarily, I admitted. From the sound of it, she thoroughly pissed him off, so off instinct, shes probably here.


    And if shes not? Maya asked.


    With the dungeons layout, we cant afford to check somewhere else first and be wrong, then check the dungeon later. This is our only chance to do so without the king breathing down our necks, blocking our escape.


    I slowed to a brisk walk, Maya following my lead. Let us through. Updated from


    The guard shook his head. Cant do that milord. Got a noble vacationing today.


    Damn. Maya did a double-take. Thats a lovely locket.


    The dungeon guard perked up immediately, fingers brushing the broach around his neck. Thank ye, miss. Its from the lady to be.


    Where did you find the jeweler? Maya inclined her head slightly toward the other guard.


    I took it as a signal and cocked my left fist back, ringing my dungeon guards helmet like a gong. He dropped, his eyes blank, while Mayas slumped to the ground in blissful sleep. She strode over to mine and checked him, placing her fingers on his neck. Hes fine. But you really cant just go around giving people concussions.


    Concussions heal. I pointed to the guard she dropped with little more than a touch. But that ones going to have trust issues forever.


    They dont always heal. Maya groused, but didnt argue further.


    We descended the spiraling cobble pathway at a brisk jog. After a few minutes, we were stopped at the door.


    Hold right there. Why the hells werent you turned away. A new face, strict and a little bored. I assumed he was one of many replacements for the several guards that were either executed or banned from service after the drephin prisoner escaped. Probably demoted from his previous role.


    I was tiring of being waylaid, the mental image of my father sprinting, frothing mad at our flanks. So I tried the direct approach. Wheres the princess?


    Now you really have to leave. He crossed his arms. Several other guards approached cautiously, a few of the dark clothed torturers pausing in the middle of their work.


    So I did the rational thing. I breathed fire out of my nose. Little spouts of dantalion flame flared on my skin, my armor, my neck. I stomped backward, gnashing my teeth. Im so fucking angry.


    Look what you did, you made him angry. Maya said mildly.


    Every time we come down here, we get no respect. There is no recognition of my status.


    There was a long pause, and for a moment, I thought she might slip away until her body jerked, and she blinked several times. I didnt?


    My gut twisted. No. You didnt.


    As the healing progressed, color returned to her cheeks. She glanced at me with cloudy eyes. Didnt want him to take our victory our glory.


    I know.


    The damage is extensive. Maya said, not bothering to hide her disgust. Your legs should be more or less as they were, three of your ribs were broken, which I fixed, and most of the contusions that would limit your mobility should pain you less. If we had more time I could heal you completely, but this will have to do.


    TimeYoure breaking me out? Sera sounded surprised, and despite the circumstances, smiled.


    I nodded. If Id known she was in this bad a state, I would have still come, but I wasnt sure shed be able to fight in the regiment, let alone act as a banner lieutenant.


    During your absence the political landscape has shifted. Annette is in peril. Fathers treating it like a game. If we cant find and retrieve her before midnight tonight, he intends to marry her off to House Westmore.


    Considering my sisters rocky relationship, I wasnt sure how shed react to the news. Theyd bonded during the lead-up to the mock battle. But some wounds take longer to heal than others. So it was a relief when Sera wrinkled her nose, a ray of focus shining through otherwise foggy eyes. What? That doesnt even make sense.


    My thoughts exactly. Even in the coldest terms its an uneven trade. For what hes getting, a noble daughter from one of our close allies would have sufficed.


    Hes overpaying. Sera filled in. She stepped away from the wall and rubbed the deep red imprints on her wrists. Not to mention, Annette would lose her mind. Elphion. And I thought he hated me.


    Maya stuck her head out the door. We need to go. Aetherya was doing well when we left, but as soon as the black shieldsand for that matter the kingfind their way onto the wall, the tides will turn quickly.


    Right. Servants entrance is nearby. Well slip out that way and regroup at Kilviuss. I turned to Sera, still thinking through the rest. Kilvius is a connected, well-organized friend with plenty of manpower around him. Youll be safe there.


    I dont want to be safe. Sera said.


    Sorry?


    What, huddle in a room, shivering, while the king is out there doing his level best to scare the shit out of our sister and catapult her across the Sapphire Sea? Sera snapped. No. Maybe it wasnt flashy, and she didnt see any direct combat, but Annette proved herself worthy of more than that in the mock battle. Same as me.


    I hesitated. This was what I wanted. Sera punched well above her means in a fight, and having another strong caster would only give us more flexibility. But it would potentially mean confronting a person whod spent the last day tormenting her personally. I remembered how Id felt, fresh out of Ozras clutches, the sheer, stark, terror that resonated through me whenever he appeared. Itd taken a long time to fade, and it still wasnt completely gone. Seras treatment by comparison had been mildera severe beating, as opposed to the cruel knives of the demonsbut shed still been tortured. You realize the king will be playing an active role in this conflict? That we may have to fight him directly?


    Though my elder sister was visibly quaking on her feet, her expression was frigid steel. If anything, this presents a unique opportunity. To return the favor.


    There was no denying it. Sera had been affected by the ordeal, but by either intent or brevity, she hadnt broken. What I felt from her wasnt just fear, but a desperate need to reclaim her strength. To prove to both herself and anyone else that was watching that she still mattered.


    And perhaps it was my own past experiences clouding my judgment, but I didnt think twice about denying her that.


    Then lets move.

 Chapter 210: Fracture XVII

    Chapter 210: Fracture XVII


    We escaped the castle with little issue. I got the sense that there were probably more Blackshields waiting for us before they were pulled away from potential ambush points to help excise the king from his snare. Aetherya bought far more time than Id expected, which gave us breathing room to stop by the armory and equip Sera. She left the armory dressed as one of my fathers honor guards and shopped around until we found a gondola willing to venture to topside.


    I took one more look around for unwanted attention before I joined them, taking a seat in the center and peeking through the curtains.


    See anyone? Maya asked.


    No. Doesnt mean they werent out there. I squinted at a woman who seemed entirely too preoccupied with checking the quality of a produce stands potatoes. If the King tapped Thaddeus for this, better to assume they saw us.


    This still seems unhinged. Maya shook her head. To risk open conflict within his own capitol.


    Sera and I shared a glance.


    While I agree that its not normal, its hardly the first time. Sera shifted uncomfortably.


    In a way, its almost like he encourages it. I mused. Hes brought multiple noble houses harboring treasonous intent to their knees in Whitefall. When that undertaking takes a violent turnwhich it often doeshe goes out of his way to see that violence done publicly in the middle of the day.


    For all to see. He handles peasant rebellions and uprisings in the same manner. Sera agreed.


    Maya steepled her fingers. So a show of power. Or reinforcement of authority. Still, that doesnt entirely make sense in the context. Outcome notwithstanding, when the details of this leaka king and prince at odds regarding the fate of a princessit will paint the very picture of a house divided. The opposite of what he should want.


    The words lingered in my mind, even as the carriage driver knocked on the back panel signaling our arrival, and we emerged at the destination. A mix of around thirty regiment soldiers mingled around the square that housed the mission. I spotted Kilvius holding up a wall across the street, searching the faces and evaluating. When his eyes landed on me I nodded, only for him to scowl as Maya stepped out of the carriage behind me. Almost immediately, Kilvius turned and walked away. At the same time, Sevran flagged me down.


    Maya put a hand on my arm and whispered. Go. Ill get Kilvius.


    Are you sure? I asked. She was being decisive in the moment, but the anxiety of an unplanned reunion was written all over her features.


    Least I can do. She didnt sound confident, but a sudden warmth and scrape of teeth against my earlobe stunned me long enough for her to slip away.


    Behind me, Sera chortled like a lecherous old man.


    Shut up. I muttered.


    Come now. Seras eyes twinkled. A lover that can tear you apart, and piece you back together after the fact? Anyone would be jealous.


    Slowly, I let out a breath I hadnt realized Id been holding.


    Sevran smiled. Go, then. I suspect youll find many willing among the reserve and the remnant of Aetheryas banner.


    For a moment Sera looked as if someone had slapped her in the face. Im sorry?


    Gather the cornerstones of your Banner, Lieutenant. He looked her up and down in obvious approval. Youd be wasted as anything else.


    Sera choked. Thank you, sir. Then turned on her heel and jogged towards the pack of soldiers, scattered around the road. Sevran watched her go, warmth seeping from him like a fire pit quenched in the dead of winter. Before the healer got to her, how bad was it?


    I grimaced. It seemed he avoided methods likely to result in permanent injury or scarification, but from what she said he administered the interrogation himself. And he was insistent in his inquiry.


    You yourself have been tortured, yes?


    Yes.


    I have not, though Ive fought beside and commanded men who were not as lucky. Sevran watched passively, as Sera struck up a conversation with a group of three soldiers in the distance. Do you recall the symptoms that followed your ordeal?


    Empty.


    Bouts of sleeplessness. Fear. An emptiness. I swallowed. A constant echo of what happened to me, repeating forever in my minds eye.


    Sevran nodded. Trauma has a way of unmaking a person. Altering allegiances, unseating priorities. It is distressing by nature. But once you move past the hurdle of the initial shock, it presents a period of malleability uncommon in life. A period within which one is most capable of change.


    Slowly, I realized he wasnt just talking about Sera.


    I swallowed. And what would you advise?


    Sevran gave me a half-shrug. Treat her with care, meeting any mistakes she might make with grace, all while keeping in mind she will be far more vulnerable in the aftermath, more likely to take any condemnation to heart. Give her time to fill the hollowness, not with your counsel or mine, but with her own. She will only be stronger for it.


    I gave him my thanks and stepped away, finding a quiet corner to summon my familiar. Once Id given Vogrin a sample of my blood, he disappeared, slipping into a shadow and moving south, intending to search Topside in a grid-like pattern that would eventually collide with Mari and Zins path, forming something of a net. It wasnt perfect. If wed had time and mana to create the style of golems he suggested using to track down Thoths blood relatives, that would have been far more effective, but sending Vogrin himself was the best alternative that didnt involve me draining my mana to almost nothing before the coming conflict.


    A few minutes later, Maya emerged with Kilvius in tow. Their arms were intertwined. Kilvius was even smiling, leaning over to say something to her in his classic fatherly manner. Until he saw me looking and stepped away from her.


    Kilvius crossed his arms. So. Care to tell me why youve parked an armed regiment on the doorstep of my clandestine organization?

 Chapter 211: Fracture XVIII

    Chapter 211: Fracture XVIII


    It occurred to me later that I should have felt more, forcing Kilviuss hand like this. Some sense of responsibility, or at the very least, guilt. As it was, I felt nothing at all.


    Before Thoth drove the dagger home and I meddled with my own soul, the guilt was always there. A primary force comprised exclusively of my own failings, driving me forever forward. I saw it in the faces that haunted my dreams, felt it in the passage of every waking minute that went by without progress or improvement. Only now, it was gone.


    Only the frost of numbness remained.


    Ill let the two of you talk, Maya said, taking her leave down the cobbled steps. Her strained smile said it all. Whatever theyd discussed behind closed doors had mended some of the damage. But not all.


    Well? Kilvius asked.


    This is hardly an inquest. Were just talking. I looked up, to where members of my regiment were still knocking on doors, undoubtedly asking after an unnamed noble matching Annettes description. Its the second time theyve been out here, looking for a woman. Given the sheer volume of gossip that circulates these parts, theyve already drawn very different conclusions.


    Those with a keen ear likely have no idea what to think at all. Given the most recent events.


    My reaction was instantaneous. My fists clenched at my side, and the mountainous air was suddenly in far shorter supply.


    Kilvius drew the right conclusions quickly. It was something Id always liked about him during our time in the Enclave, only now, the same trait was working against me. Several tactics I could use to move this conversation in a more cooperative direction popped into my mind unbidden, and I reviewed them, keeping my face neutral.


    When Kilvius spoke again, his voice was barely audible over the din of the busy street. I dont know who she was. Or what she meant to you. But from all accounts, she was one of a kind.


    And you know this how?


    Kilvius grunted, rubbing at the shadow of stubble on his jaw. I take an interest when any of my assetsfriendly or otherwisedo anything out of turn. Such as taking a cohort of armed men to a cemetery and unearthing the dead.


    Dead


    The word hung in my mind, catching at the spokes, eroding focus. I needed to stop him before the distraction worsened.


    And has your interest been sated?


    Enough to conclude it is not my business. Kilvius studied his pointed nails, rubbing at the quick. What remains is little more than idle curiosity. A question. One that my network and associates are incapable of answering.


    Ask.


    My wifethe one you took from metold me something, once. It seemed like nothing at the time, an idle observation in the night with little meaning behind it. His heart remains in Whitefall.


    Despite the sheer pain of what he was poking at, I couldnt help but laugh. Thats not like Nethtari at all.


    There was a flash of a smile across Kilviuss features before it was gone. What you saw during your time with us was just how she was with the children. A cold pragmatist unamused by whims of fancy and pointless theoreticals. Probably to counter my whimsical and carefree influence. But in private, she did fancy, and she did dream.


    I thought back. There were moments of vulnerability where you could see it. Especially when she was drinking.


    In time she dreamed of a day when a certain ward became family. For all the good that did her. Kilvius ground a heel into a small mound of impacted snow, clearing it from his doorstep. While I appreciate the opportunity to speak to my daughter again in a non-hostile environment, our time together grows short. Once whatever shit-heap youve brought down on my head is resolved, and the rash of abductions beyond that, I expect you and I will not meet again. Persephone will handle any official business. My role here requires discretion, and you garner too much attention to associate with even in secret.


    So you will help me.


    Only if you sate my curiosity. Kilvius leaned against the wall, shivering slightly as he contacted the cold surface. The girl. Who was she to you?


    There was a time I might have described Lillian and our relationship in such vivid, ponderous detail that anyone who asked would likely regret it. That time was long past.


    A lesson.


    The Magnates Quarter. A relatively small section of the city for all the wealth it comprised. It was architecturally beautiful, almost on par with the palace itself, and immensely secure. For good reason, as almost every Noble House in a position of power and favor had holdings there.


    Not playing fair, father. But thats nothing new.


    Slowly, I pieced something together.


    For now, you have an advantage. Kilvius observed. But positioning towards the Magnates Quarter will lose that advantage immediately.


    I smiled, despite myself. Cant move on the magnates quarter in force anyway. As soon as they see palace soldiers moving en masse, every Noble House will be up in arms. Clever, father. But not perfect. I need a target to hit in Topside. Something valuable to House Westmore, but isolated enough that it wont cause a massive stir.


    A false target. And I know just the one. But why?


    Vogrin?


    Vogrin appeared beside Kilvius, mouth pursed in a snarl. Are you certain you and your sister share the same blood?


    Lord below, Kilvius breathed, jolting at the sudden appearance.


    Yes. I confirmed.


    Then I do not know what conclusions to draw. Vogrin ranted. It is a distinctive scent, one I would not miss, that carries a subtle stench of the divine.


    You gave a demon your blood. Kilvius observed dryly.


    They already have a hold on my soul, I dont think blood is going to suddenly give them an edge. I looked to Vogrin. But stench of the divine? Thats news to me.


    My demon groaned. Dont get full of yourself. It is not uncommon for royal families to have some degree of divine meddling. Typically, too many generations up their family tree to make a difference. The gods are nothing if not amorous. But it is more rank and ergo more distinguishing than I am accustomed to. I would notice if I crossed her trail. And yet, nothing.


    You cant have searched all of Topside yet. Kilvius said skeptically.


    Enough that I should have smelled something!


    I waved a hand. Relax, youre not here for that.


    Vogrins eyebrows shot upward and his tone turned sarcastic. Oh! Have we simply moved on in my absence?


    There were a lot of factors in play. I needed to be careful with how I approached this. The legion made several mistakes in the early days of our pact, and to their credit, they had recognized those mistakes, and extended several courtesies to me to compensate. Offering Vogrin as a summon and use of the artifact Id traded them chief among them.


    Despite that, there was a sense that our standing as of late was approaching equal, and that they had repaid their debt in full. I wanted something from them. But I wanted it in a way that would widen that gap, rather than close it.


    Did I miss something? What is going on? Why is he smiling like that? Vogrin asked Kilvius.


    Kilvius shook his head. From experience, you may want to stop floating before you fall down.


    Vogrin. I said carefully. How would you like to tally a favor with your boss? One hell find particularly delightful.


    Almost immediately, Kilvius paled. No.


    Vogrin was silent for a long moment. By boss, youre referring to


    Who else?

 Chapter 212: Fracture XIX

    Chapter 212: Fracture XIX


    The abandoned house Kilvius selected for the meeting put us deeper in Topside, farther from my fathers reach. Yet the interior still felt cramped. Kilvius himself as well as a handful of others waited in the adjacent room, while me and Maya sat on one side of the table.


    Some of the discomfort I was feeling was from the cramped space. Most of it was directly sourced from the being sitting across from us.


    Alongside Vogrin, Ozra, the Archfiend of the Asmodials was within arms reach. In human form, he appeared as a grizzled middle-aged man, his muscled frame giving the impression of a well-kempt craftsman or retired soldier. His long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and in an odd reflection of the fateful day we struck our pact, his dark eyes were transfixed on the memory orb in his hands.


    I should be angry with you, for bothering me with this. He said, continuing to focus on the sphere as he rotated it in his hands.


    Perhaps. I agreed.


    Other Arch-Fiends would consider this so far below them that it would be perfectly acceptable to slaughter you on the spot for even proposing it.


    There was a reactive clink of metal as every other person in the room tensed at the explicit threat, while I forced myself to remain relax and unbothered.


    They might.


    Typically, I would not so much as entertain the idea. I am of course a being of great import.


    You certainly are.


    The hells are rather dull as of late. They attack us, we win. We counterattack, they stalemate. Everyone licks their wounds and bides their time, separating to various corners while whatever boorish spawn develops to create the next generation, waiting to fight over the same territory, over and over. Ozra rubbed his face, then looked over to Vogrin suspiciously. Did you tell him I was bored?


    No, your eminence. Vogrin lied.


    The answer should be no. Ozra frowned in consternation, as if surprised at himself. Yet I have not visited the human cities in over a thousand years. Triple that, by invitation. And perhaps I am in need of a change of scenery at the very least. However. His tone dropped, and an air of danger enshrouded the room. This role youve chosen for me


    I braced myself, praying Vogrin wasnt off the mark and I hadnt miscalculated.


    It is delectable. Ozra finished, as he rubbed at his shoulders and shivered in glee. Delightful. Dare I say, even a little diabolical. Not since my youth have I had the pleasure of toying with a king. And this king? He caressed the orb with his thumb. Oh, what fun well have.


    When it sunk in, what I was about to unleash on my father, there was a degree of guilt. But when I reminded myself what hed done to Sera, and the sheer terror that had to be coursing through Annette at this very moment, that guilt magically went away.


    Im glad you like it.


    Do not misunderstand. I am not some simpleton for you to manipulate. Ozra suddenly glared at me, hands gripping the table between us, changing tact too quickly for me to keep up. I am aware that you are only resorting to this as a method of leveraging the artifact you traded, an artifact that may I remind you, belongs to us.


    Theres truth to that.


    Stressful as it was, facing down an arch-fiend, it helped that Id done it before. There was a certain rhythm to negotiating with Ozra. Aggression was counter-productive. He was simply too ancient to be leveraged or bullied. What worked best was more akin to a slow seduction, letting him work out the benefits of an offer before an even bigger reveal. Not unlike the way the demons themselves operated. After all, evil attracts evil.


    The first time was free. If I asked to use the scepter again, it would cost me. That much is undeniable. I steepled my fingers and smiled, leaning forward. But theres far more to it than that.


    Oh? Ozra matched me, leaning forward. His manner bordered on mocking but it was clear his heart wasnt in it. He wanted to hear what I had to say.


    I could do it myself. That was always an option. Im not a terrible actorin fact, I think Im rather skilled.


    Passable. Ozra commented. When I raised an eyebrow, he continued. Better than average in terms of commitment, but there are several biological tells you are unlikely to overcome in a mortal lifespan.


    The perfect setup. I jumped on it without hesitation, ratcheting up a sense of manic glee I didnt feel. Exactly. If I did it myself, it might throw him off. Perhaps even unsettle him. But the King is a resilient man.


    And how much sweeter would it be to shake such a man to his core. Ozra finished.


    It only makes sense to turn to the most magnificent liar I know.


    Ozra worked his jaw and leaned backward as the chair creaked beneath him. He looked away and smiled. Had you asked for his defeat, or some other overwhelming form of assistance, I would have denied you. But this is far more interesting. He looked up, mentally tallying. Instead, you have given me a chance to see a capitol city again as a guest, meddle in the affairs of kings, and inflict an unspeakable cruelty on a fascinating target. It is a precious gift, and Im tired of pretending its not. He stared me straight in the face. I will not forget it. Now name your terms.


    At least, until he didnt.


    For the moment, Ozra seemed unbothered. Lets make a wager.


    No.


    He made a frustrated huff. A non-binding wager with no actionable outcome.


    Maya hesitated for a second too long. Im listening.


    Ozra rattled off the wager, as if hed planned it from the start. The hellhound arch-fiend is distastefully enamored with me. Bordering on obsessed, really. His voice took on a mocking, bestial overtone. Show me what youve learned over the last century, Ozra. How long before our legions clash in glorious battle, you shadow-addled coward. He shook his fist derisively, voice returning to normal. And on, and on, and on. Irritating enough that Ive acquiesced on multiple occasions, but crushing him seems to only encourage the behavior. Point being, our paths in the hells often cross. It would take little more than a few choice words to draw his attention to a clearly undervalued asset.


    That seems unbelievably benevolent. Maya hedged.


    Perhaps. But assuming my evaluation is correct? Ozra continued, low voice rumbling. Even if Phaedron rolls over and plays dead in renegotiations, offering you every resource at the Hellhound legions disposal, eventually, you will find them wanting.


    And if I do? Maya asked, the question barely more than a whisper.


    All I ask is to be considered. Ozra placed the pen down and steepled his fingers. Should you wish to change your allegiance, the Asmodial Legion is prepared to buy out your contract, providing you with the same benefits the Hellhounds did and more.


    Including a powerful generational summon? Maya challenged.


    Ozras eyebrow twitched, but he nodded. Of course.


    To be clear. All youre asking is that I consider the Asmodial Legion as a first choice, if Im looking to cut existing ties?


    Simple as that. Ozra shrugged. We both know there is only one legion that can offer what you truly seek. What you desire most. And should you seek to attain it, you need only ask.


    Im not there yet. Maya snapped.


    But one day soon, you will be. The statement had an air of finality to it, as something unspoken passed between them.


    Whatever the truth of the subtext was, the offer was a double-edged sword. A prohibitively dangerous one at that. There were a litany of infernal ballads and dramatic renditions of legends that explored in harrowing, painstaking detail, exactly how badly life went for mortals who had the misfortune of drawing the attention of an arch-fiend. The tragic heroes center stage in these tales tended to be brash and foolhardy, but even those who werent made some key mistake that cost their souls in the end. And if I knew that from my brief time immersed in infernal culture, Maya did too. She was just winding him up, playing along until he signed. After all, shed seen what I traded. What saving the Enclave cost me. There was no way she was considering this seriously.


    Right?


    I accept. Maya said. Shed shifted slightly, and the fire-pit cast a shadow over her face.


    Unable to hold it in any longer, I stood. Maya


    She held out a hand. Later, Cairn.


    Ozra grinned devilishly, withdrew a stack of papers from beneath the table and slid them over to Maya. Very well. I suspect youll be hearing from Phaedron soon, shortly after my return from this much needed vacation.


    Immediately Mayas expression grew unreadable. We agreed the wager was non-binding.


    You were about to ask for the guarantee in writing, were you not?


    Yes. Maya hesitated, looking it over.


    Ozra leafed to the end of her contract and signed it, then stood from the table, stretching out his arms Well, this has been fun. Really ought to do this more. My devout are more than competent, but delegating everything is so boorish. He looked at me and grinned. For that matter, I need to get changed. If I get too lost in the weeds and miss the main event, Id never forgive myself.


    The King is more clever than he appears. I warned. All it will take is a single misstep, and he will know the truth of it.


    Then I will strive for the straight and narrow path. Ozra winked. So. Which of your companions will be joining me, for this doomed mission?

 Chapter 213: Gil I

    Chapter 213: Gil I


    It seems your prediction was correct, my lord. The prince has led the bulk of his regiment to the warehouse district in Topside. Thaddeus reported, arms wreathed in the sleeves of his robe.


    The King of Uskar stroked his beard, not particularly pleased at the news. It was often a great pleasure to fool ones enemies. But fooling ones heir, and so easily at that? The disappointment outweighed the pleasure. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but a sense of wariness washed over him. Multiple scouts reported the boy prioritizing brutal efficiency over honor during his recent mock battle. On one such occasion, hed even stooped so low as to pose as a simple soldier, using deceit to make up for the numbers advantage. In Gils previous estimation, his heir was far better suited to the role of a general rather than a prince. But now, it seemed like even that no longer held true.


    Like so many other so-called tacticians who lost their edge the moment battle turned personal.


    And theres confirmation they saw his face? Gil questioned. He wasnt wearing a helmet, or obscured by his troops?


    Multiple eye-witnesses confirmed it, my lord.


    This wasnt how it was supposed to go. Gil had even lingered, taking his time unseating the elf banner-lord to select a group of men from his pre-existing honor guard, releasing a few with problematic egos for trumped up infractions. But now, even the meager force hed gathered seemed excessive. Dagon, captain of the black shields, trailed behind him, crimson mages robes modified around his chest plate.


    Captain. Gil called him.


    Yes, my lord? Dagon sidled up beside him, maneuvering the chestnut war horse deftly.


    Go home. Eat dinner. Fuck your wife.


    His captain tilted his head in confirmation. Dont need me?


    Gil shook his head. Or your section. There is no battle to be had. Only a child who will not be spared the rod. Updated from


    Fair enough. Dagon sighed, staring up at the sky. Guess I can sit out discipline duty. Plus the markets still open. Quality cuts might not be picked over yet.


    Gil looked to Thaddeus, grinding his teeth in displeasure. Much as I hate to say it, House Westmore will need to be handled through more subtle means. Wait until the princess is dispatched. Then gut them. Make sure whoever is promoted from within the house understands their place.


    Are you certain thats wise? Thaddeus hesitated as he spoke. Still lingering, Dagon gently yanked the reins, forcing the horse to maintain some distance from the spymaster. Obviously, you are more than capable of handling the boy, his regiment likely too green and spread out around the district to react in time. But he is not the only threat.


    Someone keeping you up at night, spymaster? Gil groused, too annoyed with the way things were shaping up to give Thaddeuss mothering his full attention.


    As always, Thaddeus latched on to the opportunity. Currently, there are two individuals that give reason for concern. The princes infernal banner lieutenant, and his bodyguard.


    Why does any of it matter if the regiment is as spread out as your people claim?


    Hes keeping both close at hand.


    Gil would begrudgingly admit he was slightly less versed in urban warfare, but only slightly. He could easily see that a warehouse was an ideal place to spring a trap. They were secure, sturdy buildings. All he needed to do was wait for his heir to grow preoccupied searching one. His men would hold the door, while he dealt with his errant spawn.


    Your concern is unnecessary. A silver sword and a stray mutt plucked from a refuse pile in the annals of Topside pose little threat to me. Gil shook his head. This was all such a bother. Perhaps he should follow his own advice to his second. Come nightfall, Annette would be gone, married off to a second-rate house with nothing but her brothers incompetence to blame. That might be punishment enough for the failure.


    The bodyguard I cannot speak for, other than a few scattered rumors that give pause. Beads of sweat collected on Thaddeuss brow. However, I would caution against underestimating the silver sword. The infernal is notorious for his time in the plains.


    And why havent I heard of him? Gil asked, growing less interested by the second.


    A combination of factors, I suspect, largely stemming from his race and low-birth. Were Sevran human, I believe he would have his own regiment by now. In terms of martial prowess with a spear, it is possible he is the best we have. Both he and the bodyguard are staying close to the Prince. If my liege intends to force a close confrontation, you will likely have to contend with all three. But Sevran may use the opportunity to escalate grievances.


    There was an idea. Cairn had handled himself well during their earlier altercation. He made no attempt to fight a superior warrior on even-footing. In some ways, Gil lauded the pragmatism of it. But what if, instead, Cairns back was against the wall, bolstered by a powerful warrior and whatever the hells the bodyguard was? Maybe then, he could finally see it. The iron that even now, from Whitefall to the Enclave and beyond, was slowly giving birth to legend.


    Even now, the possibility interested him. This might not be a complete waste after all.


    The mongrel stopped. His face was wreathed in darkness, but Gil could feel his disdain. Are we primitive? Maybe. But none of us are animals enough to torture their own child.


    Id never expect one as simple as you to understand the complexities of


    The attack from behind was a whisper. If the din outside the warehouse were any louder, it might have gone entirely unnoticed. Gil pivoted, moving on nothing but instinct as he spun, catching the heft of a spear tightly in his fist. The sharpened xescalt tip was a mere finger span from his face, dark metal glistening in the darkness.


    Cold white spheres studied him from the darkness, detached and analytical.


    Sevran, I presume.


    Before he could so much as make a mocking rejoinder, the infernal pushed forward with a terse, brutal movement, nearly driving the point home. Gil slid back with a grunt.


    So, Thaddeus was right. The infernals fighting to kill.


    Without hesitating, the mongrel footsteps padded pavement, intending to capitalize on the lapse in attention. Gil released the spear and skipped backwards, fully expecting the two of them to collide. Only to his shock, they didnt, passing each other effortlessly and ending up on opposite sides.


    Theyre good.


    The realization was as elating as it was irritating. Because, if the spymasters report was correct, Cairn had won the loyalty of both largely through combat prowess. And while facing a pair of competent opponents who didnt cower at the thought of engaging the crown was a delight, he still nursed the ever-growing desire to see what his son could really do. While his idiot daughters resistance to questioning was unfortunate, it meant that all the pieces were there. The berserker rage of the Northmen was rooted in Cairn just as deeply as it was rooted in himself. Gil could see it when Cairn talked about the arch-mage, the way the embers of hatred burned in his very soul. Only he was hesitant to lose himself in it. Every time he fought, he seemed so committed to remaining in complete control that he ended up holding himself back.


    Clinging to outdated ideals of decency.


    If he could break Cairn of his reluctance, the boy could be a force to be reckoned with. Untouchable. This most recent setback with the commoner wench in the graveyard would be nothing more than wood tossed on a blazing bonfire. Losing the younger princess would still be unfortunate. Necessary, but unfortunate. It was an uneven trade and there was nothing Gil hated more than to be on the losing side of an exchange.


    But an heir that could topple empires beat the loss of an odd daughter unfit for politics or combat any day. Securing that would be worth almost any sacrifice.


    The mongrel and the infernal were moving faster now. There was a synchronicity between them that felt spontaneous, as if theyd only just discovered it. If Gil had to guess, they hadnt fought together much before today.


    Better to put a stop to that now.


    King Gil changed tact, minimizing pointless exchanges that accomplished little and giving ground, shifting his position, forcing them to come within close proximity of each other. Eventually one of them would strike the other, and their uniformity would be broken. This sort of thing wouldnt work with a disciplined line of spearmen, or squad of soldiers, but it was an excellent way to drive a wedge between two warriors.


    Only, it didnt work.


    The mongrel was a wild dog, biting at every feigned opening, recovering quickly enough to escape the follow-up. But the infernal was his shadow. His dark armor in the low-light condition made him difficult to track. More impressively, he was always there, spear coiled and ready to strike the moment the mongrel needed to recover. Again, Thaddeus was correct. If theyd lined up and fought him tournament style, the infernal would be the better fighter. His motions, while simple, had a certain flair to them that only the most experienced spear fighters used, adding up to give each strike an astonishing amount of force considering the weak nature of the weapon that delivered it.


    How long has it been since a mere two men posed a challenge for me?


    His mouth split wide, and he smiled despite himself. Against all odds this had turned out to be entirely worth his time. And his son hadnt even shown his face yet.


    Probably hanging back and letting these two wear me down.


    Though his first instinct was to find that cowardly, it wasnt a terrible strategy. Cairn was strong, but he had hardly finished developing. He had the stamina of youth on his side, yet it would take a great many battles before he was fully battle-hardened. And Gil knew, from minute changes in their reaction-times and counters, that these two would tire long before he himself did.


    Without even the slightest shift as warning, Gil shot forward, leveraging the full-strength of his muscled body, ducking beneath the spear-tip that lashed out after him and charged the mongrel, knocking his sword aside and grabbing him by the neck, lifting the mans weight as if it was nothing and continuing to run, eventually slamming the mutt into the warehouse wall with a resounding clang.


    The mongrel grunted, sliding to the floor and coughing. The scent of fear filled the air, Gil laughed, raising his blade.


    And brought it down.

 Chapter 214: Gil II

    Chapter 214: Gil II


    Like clockwork, the spearman was there to ward off the killing stroke. Only hed played the support role too well. Effective, but predictable.


    Gil roared, gripping the hilt of his massive blade tightly and changing direction at the last second, slamming it into the infernals plate. The banner lieutenants white eyes widened a moment before collision and he braced, lowering his arm, expertly spreading the impact between gauntlet and chest plate, the defused force still enough to send him sliding backward, one hand pressed to the ground to keep from toppling over. The spear skittered to the side, spinning off into the shadows. The infernals primary arm dangled uselessly.


    Going back on your terms. I should not be surprised, Sevran observed, speaking for the first time.


    What choice did I have? Untreated steel was no longer an option. Your captain made that explicitly clear. Gil smirked, listening as the mongrel behind him struggle to stand. As soon as he heard the mans feet take purchase, he slammed an elbow backward, feeling a rush as hard leather impacted soft flesh. The mongrel toppled, and for the moment at least, did not get up again.


    Difficult to believe the armory did not house even one tempered, blunted blade in your preferred configuration.


    Speaking of which, where is your captain? King Gil said, observing the infernals reaction. Up in the rafters, perhaps? Lurking on one of those tall shelves near the back?


    He isnt here. The mongrel grunted. Somehow, hed stood and moved out of reach, though from the sound of his speech and breathing, his nose was broken. Youre wasting your time.


    Hm? Gil hefted his sword, giving it a casual swing. Thats unfortunate. He looked up, feigning sudden remembrance. Come to think of it, youve both spent some time with the princess recently.


    Alten did. My experience was limited to witnessing the chaos her illusions wrought.


    Tougher than any kid has a right to be. Alten confirmed as he wiped his face on his shoulder. Let alone a princess.


    So it seemed. Gil agreed. From the day Annette tore her way out of the queen, she never cried. Punishment and correction never phased her. A complete departure from my older children. At first I thought it nothing, a manifestation of winters blood. He studied his blade with distaste. It took some time to comprehend that it was not merely her sorrow that was muted. And what I had believedperhaps hopedto be strength was little more than masked frailty.


    Showing his experience, the infernal had guessed what he was doing, and held his silence. But the mongrel did not.


    Because she lacked a warriors fire? Alten asked, his tone flat.


    No. Because she held no fire at all. King Gils mouth tightened in disgust. No matter how much knowledge she consumed and technical prowess she attained, theres never been so much as a single drop of passion in her blood. She is a walking husk. And that has always been her way. So when I informed her of the decision, I expected little reaction, if any. He leered into the darkness towards the back of the warehouse, where his heir was undoubtedly hiding. Imagine my surprise when she tried so desperately to change my mind. Begged me to reconsider. Had I been at all unsure in my decision, it would have been solidified in an instant, given the way she wept when I denied her. Perhaps the queen bore an indiscretion. Such a pathetic child could never be mine.


    King Gil leaped back, sensing the projectile long before he saw it. Air compressed into the form of an arrow rocketed into the hard ground and rebound, homing towards him. The spell rebound at an angle so fortuitous it had to be intentional and Gil raised a gauntlet to shield his head, absorbing the impact effortlessly.


    Sevran dashed for his spear while Alten rushed forward.


    Only, Gil wasnt concerned with Alten anymore. He spun, turning to face the figure that landed behind him, marveling at the malevolence and rage.


    If you wanted to die so badly, there are easier ways to go about it. Cairn snarled. His mothers eyes were gone, replaced with those of a monsters, one iris glowing blue, the dark pupil it housed a dark slit. The same way hed been at the gravesite. Only now it was harnessed, directed. Terrifying. The potential Gil saw in this version of his son was fathomless.


    Now. How to direct it?


    Gil frowned as he took a step to the left and trapped the bodyguards sword beneath his armpit, waited for the lull between efforts, and released, driving his elbow into the mans forehead without giving him so much as a glance. The resulting thud of a body hitting the ground confirmed hed struck home, and the king barely heard it.


    It would be a decade of battlefield experience and dedicated physical training before Cairn had even the slightest chance of winning such a direct engagement. His magic wasnt enough. The gulf was simply too wide. It went without question that the potential was there. If hed had the same upbringing as Gil himself, there was a good chance Cairn might have already reached the point he wouldnt even need the underlings to eke out a win. But his mother had coddled him. Threatened her own life and that of the child in her belly. For all his grand battles, and strategic victories, and military excellence, it was the one fight Gil had lost.


    And now the son shed tried so desperately to protect paid the price.


    He spoke, still enraptured by the brutality in his sons gaze. Everything Ive done, Ive done for the good of the kingdom.


    A sword answered, singing death, arcing towards his neck. He knocked it away, appreciating that the boy had finally started focusing on more vital targets.


    What he didnt see coming was the dagger. Cairn had concealed it well until the last possible moment, flicking his wrist and bringing the lowhil weapon to a forward grip seconds before the blade made purchase. It bit into his chest plate, digging in right beneath the breastbone, and Gil smiled grimly, feeling the daggers tip pierce his underlying skin.


    Is that what you said to Annette? To Sera? Cairn growled. In an insane gambit, he dropped his blade and gripped the dagger with both hands, attempting to push it further rather than disengage. Gils eyes widened and gripped the dagger by the blade. The edge cut into his leather-gilded fingers.


    Your sisters have always held an overly-inflated view of their own worth. The eldest made a rout inquiry far more difficult than it needed to be. And the youngest? Well. Smart as she is, she really should have seen this coming a long time ago.


    Boy. Gil trailed off, his jaw working furiously.


    A line of red appeared across Cairns throat. He staggered backward, hands clutching at his neck as crimson gushed through them. The bodyguard and infernal both dashed to his side, attempting to aid.


    Keep pressure on the wound. Sevran commanded, We need a healer.


    Alten shook his head, doing as instructed, grimacing. No time


    Wheres the diplomat? Gil asked, still not able to comprehend what had just happened. One moment he was counseling his son and now Her magic will save him. Where is she?!


    Across the damn city. Alten grunted. Stashed for her own safety. The prince believed shed be targeted if she was present.


    There was so much blood. With nothing to soak into, it spread across the stone, pooling around the boys head. The din of battle outside swelled, becoming loud, almost unbearable.


    Gils hands clenched into fists and turned toward the fortified door and bellowed. STAND DOWN. EVERY FUCKING ONE OF YOU, STAND DOWN.


    Though the fighting slowed, it did not stop. That was unacceptable. They heard the command and did not obey. Gils face screwed up in anger, and he cracked his knuckles, preparing to emphasize the order with force.


    Something caught his boot. He looked down to see his sons bloody gauntlet, fingers wrapped around his heel. A little to the right of them were words scrawled in blood, short sentences hastily written.


    acting on my orders


    Sevran too


    only chance we had


    dont punish them


    please


    As he absorbed the words, Gil felt the fight go out of him. Unsure what was taking the infernal so long, he bellowed again. Get a healer in here now!


    But he knew how pointless it was. With that wound, an entire regiment of healers wouldnt make a difference. His son was already dead.


    There were many things he needed to do, matters to attend to. The boy had instilled real loyalty with these men, and they would not take this loss lightly. A mutinous regiment was a great threat to any monarchy, let alone one that existed within the walls of its capital city. So he needed to


    He needed to...


    What, exactly?


    Surely there was something he was overlooking. But even as he thought this, the fog that settled over his mind grew thicker, and he left the bodyguard behind, unbidden long strides carrying him out of the building and into the afternoon sun.


    Despite knowing that this would not go unanswered, that he needed to move quickly to stamp out any embers of rebellion that resulted from this debacle before they caught, he felt the exhaustion return. The same persistent feeling of tiredness that had stemmed from his last campaign, long before his sons disappearance on the road from the Everwood.


    None of this was supposed to happen.


    An indeterminate amount of time later, feet tiring from the march to nowhere, King Gil scoffed. It didnt make sense. The boy had visions of the future so specific he could stop a plague before it happened, citing the exact ingredients. He couldnt see everything, of course. But the gods were notoriously sloppy.


    There was a small part of him that wanted to uncover which god, specifically, had failed his son, and find a way to wage a war that reached the heavens. But there was only one person to blame.


    King Gil looked down at the blood on his hands.


    And found it gone.

 Chapter 215: Fracture XX

    Chapter 215: Fracture XX


    It is done, Vogrin said.


    Quick. Sera frowned. Maybe a little too quick. I know youre the favorite, but I cant help but wonder how much time it will take him to put it together.


    It wont be long. I reached down to rub the shadow panthers face and was rewarded with a deep rumbling purr. A few hours at most before he either thinks through it or decides it doesnt matter. Maybe less than that before one of Thaddeuss countless ears catch word and tell him Im alive and nowhere near Topside. I pointed to the training doll and spoke in Panthanian. Hold and threaten.


    Like a doused torch, Kerais demeanor flipped cold, a meanness coming into his visage before hed even turned around. When he did, he was a blur, claws clicking on dappled wood in a rapid staccato as he rushed across the room in a blur and leapt, sinking its teeth into the arm and tackling the dummy off its girder. Loud growls and intermittent shakes alternated, intended to keep the target occupied.


    Halt.


    Immediately Kerai stopped, intelligent golden eyes shining with interest. They seemed to say let me do it, let me do it.


    Release.


    Kerai opened his mouth and dropped the arm, releasing it with an audible plop. This chapter is updated by


    Heel.


    Again, the obedience was instantaneous, though he seemed less thrilled with the command as he came to rest at my side. I scratched him behind the ears until he purred again. There were enough people packed into surroundings to make the spacious nobles home seem cramped. Beside me, Lord Erebus reached in his pocket and retrieved something, holding his arm out. The abyssal panther snapped the treat from his fingers immediately, watching the creature with fascination.


    Appreciate you training him. Ive been rather busy since my return. Across the room, I caught Mayas eye and gestured for her to come over.


    Erebus chuckled. If I were at all interested in playing the noble game, Id use this opportunity to subtly communicate how difficult it was to tame a full grown wildcat in an attempt to curry favor. But in truth, he was easy.


    And my respect for you grows. Also, it makes little difference to me either way so long as its a language Im capable of speaking, but why Panthanian? I asked. The panther padded over to Maya as she approached and nuzzled her leg.


    Its a good second language for any nobleas you know, given that you speak it.


    Not particularly well, but yes.


    It is my husbands native tongue. Erebus shrugged. One day we were arguingharmless banter, nothing seriousand we noticed we had an observer very interested in every word. He glanced down at the panther, who was clearly enjoying Mayas affections. Leo told him to stop gawking and go put his nose in the corner. Confused the hells out of both of us when he actually did.


    Odd. I always thought he was unnaturally attentive to Common. I turned to the panther.


    True. Maya agreed. There were times Id rant to him on the way out of the Everwood, and he seemed to genuinely understand me.


    Mari and Zin whispered to each other in the corner, frequently glancing at me, faces filled with the gaunt shadows of concerned lieutenants. It was no small thing, going up against a noble house, largely because the consequences of such a conflict could extend far beyond the initial clash. I could only hope Id inspired enough loyalty for them to stay the course.


    Only Sera seemed truly unsettled. Shed been quiet ever since wed hammered out the details, and was looking at me strangely, waiting for a moment to talk to me. Maya seemed to pick up on this and took her leave, calling for Kerai to follow her. I watched as she joined Mari and Zin, introducing them to the animal and derailing the conversation.


    The thought occurred to me that I needed to do something nice for her, after this. Shed slipped into the role of my right hand so effortlessly and smoothly that sometimes I forgot everything she was doing. Working in the background, evaluating allies, shielding me from countless threats.


    Cairn. Sera rubbed her arm. Im not sure that I can do this.


    Thats alright. I nodded slowly. Ive said it before but it bears repeating. Youre your own person. You can opt out of whatever youre not comfortable with at any time.


    My sister scowled. No, thats notAnnoying little shit that she is, I do want to help Annette. And Im going to try. Im just not sure if I can.


    Why?


    Because something about it feels wrong. I know theyre slavers and criminals, but still. Slaying your enemy in battle is the natural order. This by comparison feels


    Evil? I prompted.


    Yes. Sera admitted.


    If it makes you feel any better, its not exactly a tactic I came up with off the top of my head. I mused. It was someone elses. Used to devastating effect. And she wasnt pulling her punches. It might seem extreme, but Erebus is right. At this moment they feel safe. Naturally, theyre more scared of the king than they are of me. We need to correct that, quickly. Make them feel desperate from the jump. Layering shock after shock makes it difficult to think, stops anyone in leadership from scheming their way out.


    There was a long hesitation. Only one, right?


    I nodded. Zin will handle the other. You can just stand there and look intimidating. After the opening moves, no one will be thinking too hard about the magic at play.


    How do I stand?


    I nearly laughed, suppressing it at the last second. This side of Sera was entirely new. I wasnt sure when shed lost her ego or how temporary it was, but if she was willing to learn, I was more than willing to teach.


    Stand up straight, now stoop from your shoulders. I studied her. The harrowed expression shed been carrying since her rescue worked for her in the less refined posture, but she needed something more. May I?


    Sera nodded, grimacing as I messed up her hair, pulling her blonde bangs that typically framed the sides of her head in front of her face. With the grimace and hair, she looked unhinged, dangerous.


    Perfect.

 Chapter 216: Fracture XXI

    Chapter 216: Fracture XXI


    House Westmores downfall was their hubris. They were proud of their gold and accomplishments, and had gone unchallenged for so long that they couldnt be bothered to keep a competent perimeter and patrols. Vogrin reported that theyd sent much of their force away, padding the security around various warehouses and stockrooms in Topside, which played perfectly into our hands. The proximity of House Erebus worked to our advantage. We were able to approach from the back and chip away at them methodically, subduing patrols and small clusters of soldiers while avoiding direct conflict. Thirty men to their fifty and it was over in less than an hour.


    And most of my regiment still wasnt using live steel.


    Embarrassing, really, for an esteemed house. But these tactics were rarely used in human cities. Most northern lords were comfortable with more direct strategies, as what was lacking in magic was frequently made up for with the numbers of a superior force. So much so that they were immediately out of their element when that situation was reversed.


    They only realized when it was already far too late.


    Fifteen men hauled a felled tree, improvised as a battering ram. Absolutely unnecessary considering the multitude of large windows around the front and sides of the mansion, but the dramatic effect of a battering ram could not be understated. I looked back over my shoulder, squinting at the sun. It was growing lower at an alarming rate, signifying the time we had left. Id intended to do most of this inside the house. But now that I thought about it, they did have an east facing deck on the third story. The height would shield us from most prying eyes.


    Cool fingers brushed the back of my hand, and I grasped them, looping Mayas hand into mine as the makeshift battering ram continued to hammer the door.


    You know this isnt healthy, right? She murmured.


    Its the best way to resolve this bloodlessly. The resemblance is coincidental. I shrugged.


    Her hand tightened, and she shook her head. We made a promise. Dont do that with me. Lie to the others if you like. But not to me.


    I fought the urge to stall until the door broke down, to distance myself from her. The idea of opening up to anyone felt so difficult now. Even if it was Maya.


    Every word was a struggle. Maybe if things were different, I could have come up with something else. But now, I see her everywhere. In the corner of reflections. Standing in the distance, mocking me. When I close my eyes. Shes all I can think about. Might as well use that to my advantage.


    Her hand slid up my arm, holding it gently. If this is what you need, Im with you. Always. But it cant be like this forever. She rested her head on my shoulder. It cant all be hate. Theres no future in that. You need to heal.


    Just for Thoth to find a way to hurt me again?


    Good. I spun the sword-breaker in my hand, studying the blade. We dont have much time to spare. Id hate to miss someone.


    A voice boomed out from the central stairway. Is this the true face of Cairn, son of Gil? Another tyrant that consumes his allies? A man with gray hair and a full beard descended the stairs with one hand on the bannister. He had a proud bearing, and his expression was more furious than fearful. Id seen him a few times over the years, though he was notoriously closed off.


    Balan, Patriarch of House Westmore.


    At your service, I bowed and looked up at him with a grin. If I was my father, you would have been the first to die.


    I see no dead men. Balan scoffed as he continued his descent, stepping over small clusters of flame I suppressed. What I see is mercy. He pointed to the line of kneeling men. The soldiers and mercenaries you savaged are bruised and battered, but otherwise unharmed. Not a single corpse among them. My nephews are worse off. He spared a glance for the two felled nobles bleeding on the floor. But their wounds are treatable. Especially with the resources at our disposal. He stood in front of me and crossed his arms. And I suspect those resources factor into this show of restraint.


    Theres not been much bloodshed, yet. That much is true. I scanned the room behind me. Unlike my predecessor I dislike killing soldiers for their orders. Better to slit the throats that gave them, first. I frowned. But I see how that could be misconstrued. Hmm. Not really the first impression I wanted. Should I start with him? I strode across the room to the noble with the knife in his belly, hoisting him up by the neck with my left arm and pressing the edge of my dagger to his throat, staring at Balan over his shoulder, daring him to speak.


    I played the part required drawing from within more than any external action. I had no intention of killing the nephew. But I needed to believe I did, more than Id ever believed anything in my life. I thought of Thoth, the pure malevolence that radiated, stemming from the confidence of knowing how badly this would end for anyone other than her.


    If Balan escalates, even for a second


    Perhaps He cut off, the first shadow of doubt flickering in his eyes as he held out a hand. Perhaps instead, we should start by discussing what exactly it is that you want.


    No longer interested in testing my resolve? I grinned wickedly.


    He shook his head. Negotiations are the groundwork of empires. Clearly, youre serious. And this conversation is long overdue. I intended to seek you out in the coming months to discuss the future of Whitefall and Uskar. If anything, youve saved me time.


    All things considered, he was doing well. Better than I had. His refusal to beg allowed him to maintain a degree of power, even as the House literally burned down around him.


    I hesitated, letting the knife linger. Then dropped the nephew and stared at him. Fine. I can be patient. Lets negotiate.

 Chapter RE: Monarch Webtoon is Live!

    Chapter RE: Monarch Webtoon is Live!


    RE:Monarch has officially made its webtoon original debut! There are currently 4 chapters up available to read for free. If you have a chance to scroll through those free chapters, the early support, clicks, and read-throughs will be clutch. Obviously the more support it gets, the higher our chances for a second season AND MORE INSANE ART.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    This is a dream come true for me. And while Im thrilled, Im also a nervous wreck. Going to take a quick breather, and well resume the typical (atypical) posting schedule this Wednesday.

 Chapter 217: Fracture XXII

    Chapter 217: Fracture XXII


    Beautiful view, isnt it? Balan asked. Rather fortuitously, hed been the one to suggest the balcony. Same as the rest of the noble houses, his considerable estate sat near the highest point of the city, providing us with a birds-eye-view of the sprawling valley of middle commons, the denizens of Topside and its more perilous infrastructure smaller than ants. He was taking this opportunity to seize control of the negotiations, and for the moment, I let him. The only tell that he was nervous at all was the rippling of his wine, the glass held in an otherwise steadfast hand. Truly the jewel of Uskar.


    Built on the backs of the less fortunate. I quipped, instilling apathy in my voice.


    It was part of what made Thoths demeanor work. I was sure of it. Violence and tragedy excited her. Everything else was boring. It forced whoever she was dealing with to hold the conflicting positions of attempting to keep her attention whilst simultaneously steering the discussion away from that which she desired most. In most cases it was a losing battle.


    But Balan was unbothered. Unlike the many softer nobles, his wealth and success had been hard earned. Despicable trade and inhumane methods aside, he had managed to do what so many bandit kings and mercenary slavers hadntspin the accumulated blood-wealth and resources into legitimacy. My father had always spoken poorly of him but did little else. And considering how often the King killed those who annoyed him, I was beginning to understand the reason.


    An odd observation coming from one benefitting so richly from the inequity they decry. Balan cocked his head, then smiled ruefully. But theres truth to it. In any walk of life there are victors and victims. Winners and losers. And despite more modern concepts of fairness, it is unfortunately rare that a pivotal loss by ones ancestors does not incur a generational debt. Just as your fathers many victories have won you the very privilege you loathe.


    The small part of me that wasnt completely immersed in the role was tempted to engage with him. He was clearly armoring up for a debate, seeding points to draw from later, outlining the inherent hypocrisy of my position. At the very least, it would have been interesting to see how he rationalized his position. But such an exercise would be pointless. His beliefs and mineat a fundamental levelwere completely incompatible. He enslaved people and sold them for profit. The concept of slavery never felt right to me long before Id ever met a Demi-human.


    It was better to play this Thoths way.


    I leaned back on my chair and tapped the stem of my untouched glass with the edge of the sword breaker, producing an idle ting. Did we come here to talk philosophy, or negotiate?


    Balan breathed a long-suffering sigh. We are negotiating. You started the conversation the moment you invaded my home.


    Hm. Are you sure? There wasnt much talking involved. I mused idly, tapping the glass again, enjoying the flash of irritation across his face.


    To his credit, he didnt lose composure or lash out. Instead, he sat down across from me and steepled his fingers. Absolutely. The chosen methoda violent incursion, conveys intent and gravity. It also serves as a cold reminder that you have a regiment of well-trained men under your command, and those men are loyal enough to follow even when led into an unsanctioned conflict with a powerful and well-connected noble house. He hesitated for a half-second, then pressed on. The fact that there were no casualties in the conflict speaks to careful coordination and considerable restraint.


    I thought it was mercy.


    Balan sat very still, then shook his head.


    No? I goaded him.


    Even for someone of my experience, its easy to conflate them. Balan mused. They hold many similarities. But when you wrested my nephew from the ground and held the blade to his throat, I realized my mistake. No maneven one with aspirations of leniencewould place themselves in that position if there was even the slightest chance theyd be forced to back down.


    Maybe Im a gambler. I rotated the sword breaker idly.


    I might have wondered the same. Balan admitted. But there was no bluff in your eyes. Just challenge. One you genuinely hoped was tried and proven. Like your father in his golden era, youre a soldier. And there are two types of soldiers. Those who fell enemies because they are at war, and those who kill simply because it is required. You are the latter. And you would have slit that boys throat in a second.


    My smile was brittle. Since we understand each other so well, perhaps we can reach an accord.


    The end of indentured servitude and dissolution of your house? I poked at him.


    will take a great deal of time to oversee. He finished unhappily. And given the princesss rather imminent circumstances, I suggest we table the longer discussion for a later date.


    How convenient.


    In the meantime. Balan emphasized through grit teeth, I will provide the princesss location as a show of good faith, alongside a gift, to signify that there is no bad blood between us. Whatever I stood to gain from the engagement is clearly not worth what Ill lose.


    Hmm. I rubbed my chin, then glanced up at Maya. Maybe it was petty, but Balan didnt seem to like it much when I included her in the conversation. How do we feel about gifts?


    Depends on the gift. Maya said blankly.


    True. I turned back to Balan. Start with the location. Then Ill evaluate this offering.


    Two of Balans attendants exited the balcony and disappeared into the house, flanked by members of my regiment. His remaining attendant placed a piece of parchment and an ink quill on the table before him. Balan wrote, muttering as he did so. The princess is being kept in a nondescript building on the edge of Topside that houses some of our more precious goods in proximity to the southern exit.


    I thought back to Kilviuss ledger. Thered been about fifteen listings, a reasonable number to memorize. And if memory served, there was only one listing at that location.


    Gold and furs, right?


    Balan stopped writing directions mid-sentence and slowly looked up. What?


    The warehouse. House Westmore uses it to store gold surplus and furs. A small fortunes worth, if the books are accurate. I asked again.


    How did you He trailed off, paling, mouth working in a silent stammer. In the far distance a building was consumed in violet fire, flames reaching up towards the horizon where the sun was setting. Balan was many things, but he wasnt stupid. The moment I set the spurs to him hed started looking for an escape, and failing that, a way to stall until my father arrived to save him. Like so many entitled lords, he was used to living in a world where people bent over backwards to please him, and he had all the time in the world to come up with a solution when faced with a problem he didnt like.


    Now that I wasnt telling him what he wanted to hear, he was getting greedy, assuming my father would check me for overreach. For all I knew, he might have been right. And this was a straightforward method of communicating a simple truth.


    Now that I wasnt telling him what he wanted to hear, he was getting greedy. Assuming my father would check me for overreach. For all I knew, he might have been right. And this was a straightforward method of communicating a simple truth.


    Stalling would cost him everything.


    Youre insane. Balan whispered. Frail as he looked, even the slightest breeze might push him over the railing.


    I steepled my fingers. Now. Lets try this again.

 Chapter 218: Fracture XXIII

    Chapter 218: Fracture XXIII


    There were many requirements for a Lord of Balans stature. Deference, a certain level of competence, and some key value that only they, as both a House and individual, could bring to the table. All of those elements were important. But there was another, less lofty talent, that was absolutely vital.


    Knowing when to shut the fuck up.


    Unfortunately, Balan was well studied in the practice. He understood that hed overestimated his ability to manipulate matters and that his current circumstances were dire. The consequences of his first attempt to lie to methree darkening buildings, two of which were still burning brightly as the sun setwere swift and severe enough that he had no intention of trying again.


    Despite that, his silence spoke an obvious truth. In his mind, going against my father was a more damning prospect than denying me. Something about the sudden inaction was almost disappointing. I figured hed have more. An angle to work. Maybe an ill-advised attempt to drive a wedge between the clearly fractured relationship between the king and his heir. But as the now gaunt-looking man stared through me, mouth pursed between bloodless cheeks, I knew his course. A pity, as Vogrins spark bearing golems were arranged at most of the remaining storehouses.


    Nothing to say? I prodded, taking the distraction to steel myself for what came next. Dont even want to shake your fist a little?


    Balans face twitched in disgust. What a waste. What a flagrant, pointless waste.


    Eh. Probably should have just shaken the fist...


    I trailed off, as Balans attendants returned. They were disciplined, but not so much that they didnt pick up on the way the atmosphere of the meeting had changed, one audibly gasping when she saw the fire in the distance. Theyd returned with a man, the one presumably bearing the gift. I frowned, studying him. The man was below average height, bald and clean shaven, hair sheared rather than lost. His clothes were decent but threadbare, and the slightly inhuman pink tinge of his skin and pointed black nails suggested infernal blood.


    An odd find in House Westmore.


    Care to introduce our guest? I asked.


    The moment I spoke, the mans head snapped towards me, his eyes wide. Joy, fear, excitement, and terror all warred in his expression before he seemed to reel it all in to something more neutral.


    Is it really you? He asked. Youve returned?


    Whenunsure of what else to doI nodded in confirmation, the man fell to his knees and prostrated himself, pressing his forehead against the ground. He spoke, hoarse voice wrenched with pain. Forgive me. I failed you, my lord. You kept your promise, and I have forsaken mine. It has been so long, so many, many, cycles, with no change and nothing to show for it. I lost faith


    Before my mind could even process the words, Maya was there. She whispered something in the mans ear and he fell quiet as her hand on his shoulder glowed green.


    So many cycles.


    An icy chill traveled my spine.


    His mind is severely fractured. Maya stated grimly. Its a miracle he can even speak.


    Well? I stood, staring at Balan first, then scanning the attendants and the rest of the onlookers. Someone want to fill me in? Whats the meaning of this?


    May I A quivering voice spoke from inside, and was just as quickly silenced.


    Shut up! Not a single gods damned word, any of you! Balan glowered, snapping to attention so quickly it was almost disorienting. It appeared as if he meant to address the entire room, but hed reacted too swiftly to properly mask his panic. Whoever the speaker was, he meant something to the House Lord.


    I folded my arms and turned to the door that lead inside from the balcony, shifting to cordial. You may approach the crown.


    A member of my regiment brought out a familiar face I hadnt seen since my venture into the pits. Dark hair, marred with sweat from the heat, and a nose that was barely there. Altens former master.


    Scyld.


    He scuttled forward, bowing as he went. A pleasure as always, my prince.


    A vein stood out on Balans forehead. Dont He stopped mid-sentence, as a mote of violet fire raced across the table and nestled on his chest. I kept the temperature neutral, barely burning, but he could feel it.


    It would be wise to avoid obstructing matters further, Lord Balan. I spared him a withering glance before returning my attention to the newcomer.


    Because you asked me to.


    A wave of nausea washed over me, as I realized what that meant. I struggled to process the sheer scale of what hed endured and failed to grasp even a fraction. I didnt understand it all. Not yet. But connecting the dots, the partial memory Id recovered in the wake of Lillians death implied thered been many loopers, once. That theyd all lost their minds, one-by-one, and once that happened, given the danger they posed, had to be forcibly removed. The memory suggested that Thoth had killed many of them, using an unknown method to remove them from the loop. But if there were that many? Realistically, she couldnt have handled them all. It followed that handling Daloch fell to me. And for whatever reasonperhaps his madness made him less malevolent than the others, perhaps wed disagreedI let him live, to remain in the loop, with instructions to observe Thoths movements over the cycles, suspicious of her even then.


    Uh, Scyld interrupted. Sorry, hes not usually soumpassionate. You kind of have to read between the lines.


    I ignored the handwringing, and locking eyes with the man who was in many ways the best friend Id never had, said the only thing I could think to say.


    Thank you, Daloch.


    He stared down at the ground, overwhelmed. Doesnt feel real.


    Can someone take him inside? Get him something to eat and drink?


    An attendant bowed and took Daloch by the hand, leading him away, and the man followed compliantly. Everything hed been through, everything hed endured. All while following the charge to stay out of sight. With his mind fraying, it wasnt hard to see how hed fallen into the hands of cretins like House Westmore countless times.


    So. Scyld rubbed his hands together nervously. For the first time, I noticed they were badly burned and unbandaged. Probably from the incursion. Do we have a consensus?


    We do.


    The slavers eyebrows shot up. Excellent. And you will postpone further discussion of the indentured servitude issue to a later date?


    I will.


    Fantastic. He waggled his eyebrows. Then Ill uphold our end of the bargain. Princess Annette was here. We received cryptic notice from a whisperer shortly before your arrival to relocate her immediately, as well as the instruction not to use any of our usual locations.


    Thaddeus.


    Still observing the proceedings placidly, Balan slowly shook his head. You foolish, foolish boy.


    Scyld hesitated for a moment, then seemingly resolved to continue. Given the short notice, we moved her to one of our chartered ships, moored at the docks. The frigate.


    Immediately, I strode into the house and leaned over the bannister, locating Zin. The dark elf was among several officers overseeing the hostages. Annettes being held in a merchant class frigate at the docks.


    Plain sight, really? Zin asked, unamused. Holding the ship should be easy. Want us to go in or wait for you?


    I wavered, then made the decision. We had time to spare. Take a small group like you did in the mock battle. Pick up whoever you can along the way. Place scouts around entrances to the docks. If you hear my father coming, catch even the briefest glimpse of his shadowhells, if it just doesnt feel rightgo in. Otherwise hold them there.


    Yes, sir. Zin nodded, and started barking orders.


    Scyld was still waiting for me on the balcony, his confidence looking a little more forced than before. Is everything to your satisfaction?


    Better than. I smiled coldly. Im in a great mood, my dear sister wont be shipped across the ocean, and thanks to you, I have my very own soothsayer. Just want to make sure this isnt another diversion before we get out of your hair.


    Of course. Scyld nodded, wringing his burnt hands reflexively and wincing at the pain.


    Maya, I waved her over. Our new ally was injured in the incursion.


    Apologies, my prince, Maya said.


    I let every bit of charm, friendliness, and compassion drain away. Can we do something about that?

 Chapter 219: Fracture XXIV

    Chapter 219: Fracture XXIV


    Maya released the slavers shoulder. The mans forced optimism disappeared instantaneously, light gone from his eyes before he hit the ground. His hands curled painfully as he writhed on the stone floor of the balcony, a violent seizure ravaging his nerves, once confident voice reduced to painful hitches and animalistic moans.


    I watched him struggle silently. Then slowly looked towards Maya. Looks like you overdid it.


    Unfortunate. Maya said, her expression cold and emotionless. For him.


    In a fraction of a second, Balan was on his feet and racing forward, face twisted in grief and shock, chair overturned in his wake. What have you done! He snarled, kneeling above Scylds head and attempting to cushion his neck from further shock. You fucking monsters. The fool told you where she was. Gave everything you asked for.


    Ah ah, I stood and approached the balcony, taking in the last vestige of sunset before the light disappeared over the horizon. Thats not entirely true.


    A thrill washed over me, uncharacteristic as it was unexpected. It took little imagination to picture how many lives House Westmore had ruined. A mass graveyard stretching from one massive peak in the distance to the other, each grave unmarked, a mess of human and nonhuman bodies fertilizing the wilderness. In part, the thrill stemmed from the justice of it. But there was another aspect. A part of me that almost reveled being on the winning side of an exchange going from bad to worse. From the beginning of my second life, Thoth, fate, even the gods themselves had dropped the floor out from underneath me more times than I could count.


    Being on the other side of it felt


    Good.


    Right.


    In a way that made me uncomfortable to think about.


    Hes dead. Balan leaned back from the pale, stricken body on the floor, his expression a mix of horror and hatred. Well done, noble prince. Well done. Youve made an example of the only noble in this house willing to work with you. You fucking idiot.


    Tell me, Balan. I mused, surveying the burning out warehouses one last time before I so much as glanced his way. Before your hapless heir inserted himself into our discussion, what demands did I make of House Westmore?


    I waited for his seething to lapse, and when it did long enough for him to process my words, his mouth dropped open.


    Exactly. I snapped my fingers and turned to him with a congenial smile. Scyld was helpful. Quite helpful, in fact. Especially by House Westmore standards. And for his service I knelt down and brushed his eyelids closed, observing an angry twitch from the House Lord the moment my hand made contact. He was rewarded.


    A bitter chuckle forced its way out of Balans throat, his mouth frozen in a rictus of rage. And the people think the King of Whitefall is a delusional monster. Youre no better, boy.


    What scathing insight. I rolled my eyes. Recognize mercy when it is given, Lord Balan. In more ways than not, your sons death was a kind one.


    Kind? Balan choked.


    Indeed. Life magic, when turned to purpose, kills almost instantly. He never felt his heart stop, and the tremors we witnessed took place after his soul left his body.


    So I should thank you because it was quick? Balan whispered, his voice raw.


    I shook my head. You should thank me because Scyld died believing that the end couldnt be further away. That his intercession on behalf of his house succeeded. A gamble hard argued and narrowly won. I saw it in the way he looked at you, hoping his actions had earned approval long denied. For a moment in timemere minutes in the scope of eternityhe was a man fulfilled. Something many seek and few find. The only tragedy here was the fact you couldnt bring yourself to lie to him, sparing nothing but derision and insults, rather than the validation he so desperately craved. And that denial is all he will carry of you into the afterlife.


    Balans fingers lingered on the fallen boys face, his throat clicking from dryness. His shoulders shook. And for a moment, I thought the patriarch had broken. Then something changed. In a blur of speed impressive from a man his age, he shot to his feet and charged towards me.


    Maya tensed, and I held out a hand to stop her just before the impact. Lord Balan tackled me, wrapping his hands around my neck, his gnarled fingers digging into my flesh and tendons and squeezing. Countless swords were drawn, and I watched through fading vision as Maya relayed my instruction to stand down.


    So he does have an edge.


    Think they can save you before your neck breaks? Lord Balan seethed, flecks of spittle spattering my cheek and face. Hows it feel, you wretched brat? To have the life squeezed out of you by one of your so-called lessers.


    Even as my vision blackened, I reached out to the air, summoning mana and rearranging it in a voice meant to carry a single word to Balans ears.


    Disappointing.


    I brought my boot down on his foot, then slammed my left fist into his jaw. I held back a bit so there was no risk the impact would kill him, but the result still sent him spinning to the ground, barely catching himself on his hands and knees. Blood dripped from his mouth, and he stared down at the ground in shock.


    As I was saying. I crouched down next to him and patted his back. Scyld was lucky in many ways. One above the rest. Because wherever he is? Wherever he finds himself in the afterlife? I leaned in, mouth close to Balans ear. He isnt forced to watch what happens next.


    /////


    My memory grows hazy around this point. Im not entirely sure why. From a purely traumatic standpoint, Ive been through the receiving end of much worse, some of which I recall in far starker detail than Id prefer. There are aspects and unimportant details that stand out, parts of the proceedings I can remember with pristine clarity, others that blend together freely in an indecipherable amalgam of rage and cruelty.


    I remember the soldiers of my regiment dragging Lord Balan inside and downstairs, back to the main hall where the rest of his House was lined up and waiting on their knees. I remember those same soldiersmany of which had secondhand experience with House Westmores trade, watching with grim satisfaction as I pulled aside the first few heirs and paraded them in front of Lord Balan before Mayas touch sent them crumbling to the floor, lifeless.


    And of course, I remember how that grim satisfaction faded to a numbness and concern.


    Because I did not stop, at one, or two, or three. In the process I changed things up to avoid any discernible monotony. Sometimes I would make Balan argue for why a particular child should be spared. In other cases, I would present him with a group, and make him choose his favorite. In reality, none of his choices mattered. I denied his agency just as he denied the agency of so many others.


    The feeling of catharsis had long since faded. And while Id kept the demon-fire controlled, the walls and ceilings grew black from the heat.


    Whos left? I rubbed the sweat off my brow and squinted.


    No one of note, my lord. Maya replied stiffly.


    I scanned the bodies now littering the hall and frowned. Surely there must be someone left.


    Just the younger children. A member of my regiment said hesitantly, flinching when Maya glared at him. The ones were keeping away from the smoke in the back.


    As I said, Maya growled, No one of note.


    Dont be too hasty. I said, leaning back on the hardwood stairs, idly passing my fingertips through the tongues of violet flame that had long since eaten away at the finish. Are any of them interesting in any way? To us or our generous host?


    Balan had collapsed. After several increasingly animated cycles of anger, grief, rage, and even some bargaining, he finally settled on despair. Now he was staring blankly towards the broken door, no doubt wishing with all he had left that someoneanyonemight come to save him.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maya shake her head. I addressed the officer directly. I asked you a question, soldier.


    The man sighed. Most of them are too terrified to do anything other than huddle together. But theres a boy thats been asking to speak with you.


    For how long? I asked, a little surprised.


    Hours. Since they were separated from the others, your grace.


    Cairn. He is among the last. Maya said with heavy emphasis. From the tautness of her tail and the fierceness of her face I sensed she was angry with me, furious even.


    Far be it from me to keep a noble waiting, regardless of age. I inclined my head. Bring him out.


    Balan groaned, the sound that emitted from his lips more animal than human.


    It took longer than I expected. Perhaps Id taken things too far, and Maya wasnt the only one chafing under the direction things were headed. In some ways, that was to be expected. Cephur had selected the members of my regiment carefully based on criteria wed discussed together, and a foundational center of that criteria was that none of them were the sort that accepted orders and the leaders that gave them blindly.


    I couldnt fault them for that.


    The boy that emerged was small, bookish, dark-haired and dark-eyed. He was dressed in House Westmores ceremonial robes, the same robes his grandfather wore for high-profile negotiations. His eyes lingered on the bodies as he was escorted past them, flicking between the carnage until they finally locked on me.


    Greetings. He bowed. His voice was low-pitched for a childs, almost monotone. After he rose he turned to Lord Balan and bowed again. Grandfather.


    I dropped Mateo and raised my chin pompously. Because they annoyed me. They entreated my father for my sisters hand and threatened to withdraw their support if he did not cave to their demands. In the process they lied to me, attempted to bribe me with the very thing I condemned. More than that, I just dont like them.


    You could see the moment Melody realized, the way she forcefully banished the shock and locked in. Her sapphire eyes reflected the fire. If this were any other house, I could understand the reason though not the method. But this is House Westmore. Their food and basic necessities alone provide for over half the population.


    I shrugged. They have various provision hubs in other cities, but most of their imports are housed right here in Whitefall. After House Westmore heaves its dying breath, we will seize their stores and the means of production. I see no issue.


    Do you have soldiers at the ready, prepared to carry those orders through at this very moment? Melody challenged. Because even now, word of the fall of House Westmore is spreading. And if it reached my ears, it will soon reach the ears of others. There will be looting first, then rioting, with the fires and death that always follow. If you have not already put that into motion, the losses will be significant.


    Balan whimpered agreement.


    Ah. The eternal wisdom of hindsight. If only your advice was offered sooner. I sighed, returning my blade to Mateos neck.


    Wait! Balan and Melody said at the same time. Melody glared at him, then returned her focus to me, seeming to bolster her nerve. I know you to be a good man. A reasonable man, she said quietly. Its not too late to prove me right.


    Many of House Westmore would disagree with you. I clucked my tongue.


    Then allow me to offer a solution. Melody paused to gather herself, hands clutching at her skirts. A formal agreement forging two Noble Houses into one. This would of course be on our terms, given the circumstances.


    I looked down to where Balan still cowered pitifully at Melodys feet, eyes wide as saucers. Please. The House Lord is far too proud to consider


    Not at all. Balan stammered. By my authority, if this stays your hand, the survivors will serve as wards. Any remaining heirs will marry into House Vasemoux to formalize the agreement and follow the House Lords guidance.


    For the first time, I sensed no attempt at manipulation in Balans words. The event had broken him so badly he was acting entirely on instinct, desperate to ensure even a fraction of his legacy remained.


    And your assets? I challenged.


    All assets, infrastructure, and trade routes will be theirs to further, maintain, or destroy. Balan looked up at her, suddenly sheepish. I only wish Id seen the value of your house sooner.


    Melody chewed her lip. My father will likely insist your House formally converts to the Church of Elphion. Is that acceptable?


    It is.


    I didnt like how relieved he sounded, how compliant he was. Unceremoniously, I released Mateo and stalked towards him, grabbing his neck and placing the edge of the blade against his face, tip a hairs width from his eye. You think youve fucking escaped me? That you can just sit back, in the shadows of another house, and bide your time until theres an opportunity for recompense?


    Melody shuffled backward, putting herself clear of advance.


    A man can always make more children. But he only has one set of eyes. He can make do with one. And if he loses both, the maiming will serve as a more permanent reminder of what he might have lost, after the smoke clears.


    Thoths voice resonated through my mind.


    Please dont, Balan groaned.


    Cairn. Stop. Mayas voice cut through my mind. I felt a weight on my forearm as she pressed my knife arm down, gently guiding me.


    Fine. I hissed, dropping the sword breaker and walking back a ways before I let the rage and bile slip away. I remand Lord Balan and the future of House Westmore to House Vasemoux, contingent on a sealed contract of absorption agreed on by both parties. A number of my regiment will escort you.


    I caught a brief sight of Kilvius, now clad in the armor of my regiment, joining the dozen or so men I selected. As wed discussed, hed be nearby, listening to the proceedings and reporting back to me if there was a problem.


    Several of the soldiers half-supported, half-carried Balan as Melody led them to the door.


    Lord Balan. I called after him, noting the way his shoulders tensed.


    The soldiers helped him turn. He waited, anxious and shaking, for me to speak.


    As youve seen today, I am not a man opposed to simple solutions. And though you are obviously about as likely to lie to me as you are to breathe, it seems foolish not to ask. I hardened my jaw. Are we going to have a problem?


    For the slightest moment, there was a spark of rebellion in Balans eye. But it extinguished almost as quickly as it appeared as his gaze traveled over the dead and returned to me, empty and void. Defeat, as clear as it was total. No, your grace.


    Then get out of my sight.


    They bowed, Melody giving me one last concerned glance before she, Balan, Kilvius and the rest of my regiment disappeared into the night.


    Maya approached me, fists clenched at her sides. It wasnt like her to air out grievances in front of the regiment, but Id sensed her anger for hours, and prepared myself for an onslaught, nonetheless. But Mateo interrupted, stopping the conflict short. He was staring out the door in confusion. I dont understand. If the intention was to force a merger from the beginning, why kill so many of us?


    I gave Maya an apologetic look before I answered.


    Who says I killed anyone?


    There was a sense of uncomfortable relief as Maya knelt at Scylds side. His face was pale, and his breathing was almost imperceptible. But his visage lacked the lifelessness of a man who had been dead for hours. And when Maya put her spell-lit hand on his shoulder, his eyes sprung open in shock. She murmured something about staying still.


    The terms with House Vasemoux bind all remaining heirs. Mateo realized.


    All things have a price. I echoed the Houses words, watching as Maya made the rounds, repeating the same steps shed taken with Scyld on every other male of House Westmore. Many seemed to have trouble getting their bearings. But more importantly, now that the threat appeared to be waning, the sense of unity through terror had faded. Theyd survived. But the memories of their patriarchs choices that evening would not fade so easily. Exactly how much they were valued, and who amongst them was worth more or less, made clear, demonstrated for all to see. Even the most loyal amongst them would question Balans priorities now. This was the fastest way to sever the bonds between them.


    Resolving this would never be easy. Destroying House Westmore entirely sent the message I was volatile and emotional.


    Simply taking their information and letting them skate by with no consequences on excuses and technicalities sent the message I was weak.


    This was the best option.


    Between the warehouse fires, troop movements, and damage to the estate, there was evidence of the conflict, but all the other Noble Houses had to do was count heads. Even better, merchants hated being scammed. Their reputation was already taking a sizable hit from being folded into a House of lower standing. Any survivors clever enough to piece together what actually happened would be slow to share these theories in explicit detail. And in that void of detail, rumors and gossip would spread like wildfire.


    Id won.


    And in the process, gained a more in-depth understanding of Thoths methodology than mere observation could have granted. From our brief encounters, shed frequently danced between disruption and ruin, choosing one or the other seemingly at random. But it wasnt random. They were two sides of the same coin.


    Soon, Id speak to Daloch about her to confirm these insights and hopefully glean more. But there was another matter Id put off for far too long already.


    With a sigh, I snuffed out the fire. The purple flame scattered around the walls and railings died, leaving many surfaces marred with blackened ash.


    The list you mentioned. I put a hand on Mateos shoulder. Id like you to compose it after all.


    What list? He asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the would-be resurrections.


    You mentioned presenting a list of your brothers and uncles who hold more progressive sensibilities. There will be plenty of wards, but I suspect House Vasemoux will have their work cut out for them deciding who is worthy of joining their house in a more official capacity.


    Mateo blinked, then bowed. It will be done.


    Good. Send word when its ready, and Ill make sure it reaches the right hands. I turned and addressed my regiment. I need approximately half of you to stay. House Vasemoux will be sending additional transport shortly. Watch over them in the meantime, and once they are en route, escort them until they reach their new lodgings.


    And the rest? Mari asked. My banner-lieutenant seemed less concerned now that the dead had risen, but in its wake, still viewed me with a wariness that wasnt there before.


    With me. My expression hardened. My sister has waited long enough.

 Chapter 220: Fracture XXV

    Chapter 220: Fracture XXV


    ¡°It¡¯s the horses, isn¡¯t it?¡± I asked, doing my best to keep the borrowed beast in line.


    ¡°Hm?¡± Maya asked absentmindedly, still wearing the same scowl she¡¯d maintained since leaving the Westmore estate.


    ¡°Every time you¡¯re angry with me, or displeased, there are horses nearby.¡±


    A small way behind us, I heard Sera groan.


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Maya nodded slowly, still avoiding eye-contact. ¡°And seeing how they make up the primary form of transportation across the continent, that is highly unfortunate.¡±


    So much for trying to lighten the mood. She is seriously pissed.


    ¡°Uh, Cairn?¡± Sera cleared her throat. I twisted in my saddle to look at her leading a group of her own contingent and the rest of our regiment following behind. Now that she had my attention, Sera forced a smile. ¡°I think Maya probably wants to know why we diverted so drastically from the original plan?¡±


    ¡°Now that the princess has broached the topic, I would like a further explanation.¡± Maya agreed, her voice contemplative. ¡°Because it was supposed to be one. A single male from his line of succession, used as an example demonstrating the severity of the situation. One. Person.¡±


    ¡°You saw his eyes. The way he attacked me. He wasn¡¯t going to break with just that.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Maya concurred. She raised an eyebrow. ¡°And the ninth? The tenth? After he was on his knees, clinging to your leg like a child clings to their mother, wailing for mercy? What was the reason then?¡±


    I winced. ¡°It... presented a chance to sow discord within his house. Weaken their ties to each other, lessen the chance of rebellion later and send a warning to the other Houses that it is in their best interests to bend the knee.¡±


    ¡°So it wasn¡¯t a cruel, disproportionate punishment doled out because someone you consider reprehensible dared to question your authority.¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± Maya finally looked at me. ¡°I¡¯ve already had the displeasure of waking up one day and realizing I¡¯ve placed myself in the service of an egocentric who employs savagery as a reliable method of working through his own frustrations. I¡¯d rather not repeat the experience.¡±


    An image of Barion flashed in my head, and I couldn¡¯t help but grimace. ¡°A little low, comparing me to him.¡±


    Her expression softened. ¡°With how your visions function... I try not to question when a choice or course of action doesn¡¯t fully make sense from my perspective. I do everything in my power to play along and help achieve the preferred outcome. And I can do that blindly because the ¡°why¡± has always been clear to me.¡± Updated from n0v3lb(i)n.c(o)/m


    There were two competing truths in my mind.


    The first was that Maya was right. Our incursion had gotten out of control. I got caught up playing an unfamiliar role, and when Balan challenged me, I escalated.


    They understand. Why can¡¯t you?


    As much as I wanted to voice it, now was not the time. We dismounted and pushed into the dockyard slowly, searching the shadows. Something large loomed overhead, revealed by the light of a torch. A massive figurehead of a bear, the sigil of House Westmore. ¡°There¡¯s our frigate.¡±


    ¡°Silver.¡± Someone hissed, creating a cacophony of movement as every nearby sword, axe, and spear turned in the direction of the noise.


    ¡°Flame.¡± I returned. Weapons were lowered as a dark elf in light armor stood up from behind a barrel, ponytail swishing behind him as he jogged over to us.


    ¡°Your grace.¡± Zin stopped, scanning the men behind us. ¡°Lot of long faces. Things go badly at the Slaver House?¡±


    ¡°Depends on who you ask.¡± I shrugged. ¡°What happened?¡±


    He scowled. ¡°Didn¡¯t like the feel of the place. Already figured the Frigate was manned by a skeleton crew, so we boarded and disarmed them. Easy enough, considering how distracted they were.¡±


    ¡°Distracted with what?¡± Maya asked.


    Zin scowled back at the ship. ¡°Before I say more, let me reiterate that we followed protocol. Separated and questioned them individually. There wasn¡¯t any time for the bastards to coordinate or get their stories straight.¡±


    I braced myself, trying to suppress a growing paranoia that Zin was about to deliver some less than ideal news.


    ¡°Just tell me what happened.¡±


    ¡°To a man, every member of the crew, their dogshit mercenary detail, even the damn cook says the same thing. Princess Annette was here. Found a few of her things in one of the cabins. That much at least, I think we can be certain of.¡±


    My heart sank. ¡°They moved her.¡±


    Zin shook his head. ¡°If that was the case, we¡¯d at least have a trail to follow. By their accounts? Annette has disappeared.¡±


    I felt him before I saw him. A large silhouette stepped out from behind a shadow of a dozen crates, long hair flowing in the night sea air. He stepped forward into the torchlight almost tentatively, his typical bluster absent. More alarming, however, was the complete absence of rage. He had every reason to be furious.


    Yet, he wasn¡¯t. The look on his face was entirely unreadable.


    ¡°Still breathing, I see.¡± King Gil said.

 Chapter 221: Fracture XXVI

    Chapter 221: Fracture XXVI


    If there was any universal constant in Uskar, it was that the sitting king loved the sound of his own voice. My father didn¡¯t see it as ego, exactly. According to him, mockery, commentary, and intimidation all served as aspects of a whole, a battle of the mind that preceded the conflict of the body.


    All this to highlight how strange it was to see him just standing there, illuminated by the ring of torchlight, saying nothing at all.


    The moment of silence was shattered as Sera drew her weapon, prompting others in the regiment to ready theirs. Maya¡¯s staff snapped into her hand, held loosely and non threateningly at her side. But the tension in her shoulders was unmistakable.


    My father finally looked away from me, evaluating the variety of steel leveraged in his direction with mute interest. ¡°Have to commend the discipline on display, considering how deeply some of them are shitting their britches. Miracle they haven¡¯t broken ranks and run.¡±


    I risked a glance back towards my regiment. ¡°This engagement has been more than many of them signed up for. A sentiment with which I concur.¡±


    The King raised an eyebrow. ¡°Yet you rose to the occasion. As did they. Your mutt and infernal banner lieutenant deserve a great deal of credit. I haven¡¯t had a fight that close to even in years.¡± His brow lowered. ¡°Though it was you¡ªor perhaps not you¡ªwho dealt the decisive blow.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s Annette?¡± I asked coldly. He clearly had questions about the encounter in Topside. Good. The answers to those questions were leverage, not to be released until after we¡¯d secured my sister.


    ¡°Somewhere no one will reach her until the morrow is long since passed.¡± He answered quietly. ¡°A partial victory is the best you¡¯ll achieve this day.¡±


    ¡°In your own bloody words,¡± Sera bristled, leaning forward in anticipation, radiating hate. ¡°A partial victory is no victory at all.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps.¡± Gil nodded. ¡°And if that is the reason you held your tongue so fervently during questioning, your tenacity is lauded. However, it is important in times such as these to consider the grand scope. And while your brother¡¯s actions at House Westmore might have lost him a pawn, he secured a far more vital objective. The destruction and dissolution of a problematic House that would have undercut his rule.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve spoken to Thaddeus, I take it.¡± I asked dryly, silently absorbing the implications. The most obvious being, he didn¡¯t seem particularly upset about the fate of House Westmore. ¡°Guessing his hands are full, finding a way to spin all this.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s mostly cut and dry.¡± The king shrugged. ¡°That surly old fuck you humbled is long known for pushing boundaries. Occasionally at the expense of the crown. A few whispers in the right places, and the puzzle will assemble itself. House Westmore overstepped and attempted to leverage their influence to force their way into the royal bloodline. With no better option, I acquiesced. My heir, however?¡± He smiled. ¡°Could not be swayed. And in the reflection of the tragic loyalty you displayed, they will see their future as your subjects.¡±


    Maya stiffened. ¡°It was your intention to unseat them from the beginning? Wouldn¡¯t it have been far easier to handle them yourself?¡±


    ¡°He couldn¡¯t.¡± I realized, before my father answered. ¡°Before today, House Westmore was considered untouchable. And with the Noble Houses on high alert since the slavery decree, any further action towards them¡ªespecially against a House as influential as Westmore¡ªhad the potential to spur treason at best, a full-blown civil war at worst. Neither of which we can afford. He needed a proxy.¡±


    ¡°That,¡± Gil agreed, still oddly withdrawn. ¡°And I wanted to be sure. Absolutely certain that the things I saw in you were not simply fantasy born from wishful thinking.¡±


    ¡°And?¡± I stared at him blankly.


    ¡°I am certain.¡±


    It was dangerously close to praise. I shoved it away, trying to stay focused on the relevant. ¡°Then your intentions are fulfilled. The absorption of House Westmore into House Vasemoux secures their supply-lines and gelds their ambitions. Now, as I¡¯ve done you a service, it seems only reasonable to reply in kind.¡±


    His expression oscillated between stoicism and something that was almost soft, entirely alien on his features. ¡°And I would, son. Were this a time of peace? I¡¯d hand her over to you in a second. But all princesses have a part to play in times of war. And it is not to play soldier in their brother¡¯s army. She is too valuable a chit to surrender.¡±


    My lip curled in distaste. Not simply because he spoke of my sister like she was property to be traded, but because this was likely the intended lesson. Sera¡¯s interrogation wasn¡¯t mere coincidence. He was using this conflict to reinforce the fractures that separated us, as a reminder of how our value varied and the rigidness of our hierarchy, pulling from the same box of tricks he¡¯d used my entire childhood to teach the same lesson:


    Blood or not, we were not friends. We were competitors. And while that sense of competition obliterated any fraternal kinship we might have felt to each other, it would eventually make us better rulers.


    I didn¡¯t buy it back then, and I certainly didn¡¯t now. If anything, these last few weeks demonstrated how strong we were when working towards a common goal.


    Zin, who¡¯d somehow faded into the background as soon as the king appeared, approached from the side and caught my eye. I dismounted to meet him, keeping the King in the corner of my vision.


    ¡°All of my sentries are still in place. No unexpected arrivals or larger movements. He¡¯s alone.¡±


    Why.


    It didn¡¯t convey strength. My father could have summoned the entirety of his forces if that was his intention, really rubbed in the failure. Instead, he¡¯d waited at our eventual destination, alone and bizarrely out of sorts. As insane as it felt to even consider, it was almost like he was creating a situation where violence was unlikely to boil over. That he¡¯d put all this into motion didn¡¯t matter. If we moved against him now, in the current context¡ªone where he had yet to even draw a blade¡ªit would be seen as an act of treason.


    There was only one reason the King would go out of his way to avoid a fight.


    Never become mired in a battle that will cost you the war.


    The laughter started deep in my chest, bubbling out of me in a mess of relief and incredulity. Heads turned towards me as the laughter slowly ebbed. I wiped a tear from my eye. ¡°Your confidence knows no bounds. I¡¯ve spent the last few minutes wondering why, exactly, you would appear in this manner. At first I thought it was an ambush. Appearing isolated to bait us into a false sense of security, misdirecting our attention while your troops position, all right out of your well-worn playbook. If Zin didn¡¯t have ample time to secure the area, I¡¯d be forced to that assumption, discarding a far more likely possibility.¡±


    ¡°It was not a possibility you could ignore.¡± He scowled, scanning the increasingly nervous faces of my regiment. ¡°An ugly truth. And instead of hiding from it, or pretending that wasn¡¯t possible, you oversaw the assembly of a force that would remain loyal to you and you alone. Even in the face of treason.¡±


    I grit my teeth. Was he really so low? Willing to punish, or even potentially dissolve and execute my regiment for nothing more than his suspicions?


    Who am I kidding? Of course he is.


    ¡°Whatever Cairn¡¯s ambitions, there¡¯s been no seditious talk, my king.¡± Sera interjected stiffly. ¡°My hearing is sharp. And if there was talk of rebellion or treason, it would not escape my ears.¡±


    ¡°Well... he is right.¡± I confessed, and both Sera and Maya turned to look at me sharply. There was no point in hiding it, when he¡¯d already guessed so much. I swallowed and pushed on. ¡°It wasn¡¯t something I wanted. I¡¯m not insane. I would never go out of my way to stir up conflict between us to expedite the passing of the crown. It was something I planned for because I had to.¡±


    ¡°Barely out of the cradle, and you were already preparing for regicide.¡± Gil shook his head.


    ¡°To be clear, my sister speaks the truth.¡± I clarified. ¡°There is no plot. All the regiment knows of this is what you¡¯ve told them. They are model soldiers, acting within the established hierarchy. The only one who has ever held treason in his heart was me. Any punishment should be mine, and mine alone.¡±


    ¡°How would you do it, if your hand was forced?¡± He asked, his tone dangerous.


    Poison.


    Excepting Thoth¡¯s unnatural combat prowess, it was the only weapon his enemies had ever used that made a dent. Less than it should have, considering the lethality of the poisons involved, but the months of bed rest put him out of commission longer anything else ever had.


    Aloud, I said, ¡°Dishonorably.¡±


    The shove came fast and hard, nearly toppling me as I raced backwards, attempting to right my balance. Several members of my regiment immediately moved to interfere, several stopping mid-step as I signaled them to hold.


    ¡°We should finish our spar from the morning, right here and now.¡± He growled, shoving me again. This time I was ready for it and planted my feet, sliding back a ways but keeping my footing. ¡°See what your regiment thinks of their beloved leader, beaten black and blue.¡±


    Thinking quickly, I tried to trap him in the proposal, limiting the damage. ¡°If that¡¯s your punishment, I accept it.¡±


    ¡°As you should.¡± King Gil put his hand on my breastplate again. I braced myself, preparing for another push. But it never came. He just held it there. ¡°One can only fake their death so many times before it is expected as a matter of course.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    ¡°Then here¡¯s your fucking punishment. Never employ that strategy again. It is gone. Stricken from your book of tactics, banished to the dog fucking depths. Understand?¡±


    He shoved me again, leaving me pinwheeling above the dock¡¯s water and glaring at me with animosity, only pulling me back after I grunted out an assent. Before I could fully understand what was happening, enormous arms enveloped me, squeezing.


    Is he actually... hugging me?


    ¡°I was twelve when I began plotting to take my throne from your grandfather.¡± Gil whispered, his voice raw. ¡°And wasn¡¯t a fraction as clever. I should never have doubted you, boy. I¡¯m sorry this test came while you were at your lowest. Well-played.¡±


    Gil released me and stepped backward. I couldn¡¯t think, couldn¡¯t even form a coherent thought beyond one.


    He hugged me. And apologized.


    Somehow, I regained enough lucidity to remember I wasn¡¯t the only one who¡¯d been wronged. ¡°I... understand. But there are others you still need to make amends with.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯ll speak to the girls later. Bribe them with whatever they want.¡± The king had distanced himself somewhat, and was now staring up at the frigate with his arms-crossed, his face hidden. ¡°Look at that gaudy fucking monstrosity. The egos on those bastards.¡±


    A bribe wouldn¡¯t fix everything. But in all honesty, the bar was on the ground. Even an admission that he¡¯d been wrong was more than I could have hoped for. If my sisters got something for their troubles, all the better.


    Bemused but still cautious, I walked over and studied the masthead beside him. ¡°The oh-so-fiercesome Bear of Westmore.¡±


    He looked down at me and nudged my shoulder. ¡°Want to burn it down?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Yeah. I kind of do.¡±

 Chapter 222: Fracture XXVII

    Chapter 222: Fracture XXVII


    The King¡¯s suggestion that we burn the ship was entirely unsurprising. He was fond of arson even before he had a living torch for an heir. The surprising part came later, long after we¡¯d left House Westmore¡¯s prized frigate burning to a charred husk still anchored in the dock.


    Sera and Annette both stuck close to me as we entered the lounge my father led us too long after the rest of my regiment had retired for the evening. They were more accustomed to this version of the king than I was¡ªafter all, they¡¯d spent significantly more time around him than I had in this life. But the typical treatment they were accustomed to was hostile dismissiveness at worst. In comparison, over the course of the last day he¡¯d put them both through the grinder.


    Oddly, Gil actually seemed to understand this.


    He scanned the group that included myself, Annette, Sera, Maya, and Alten. His forehead creased as he paused on Maya an Alten. For a moment, I expected a grumbling complaint about outsiders and their immediate ejection. Instead he moved on, grunting as he dropped onto the lush seat by the fire and, when no one moved, fixed us all with a withering stare. ¡°The servants will be here shortly. Get comfortable.¡± Then he gestured for Annette. ¡°Come.¡±


    She approached him, closing the distance in the time it took for me to process how strange it all was.


    Alten and Sera sat at the small table that didn¡¯t quite match the room. I was pretty sure Alten chose the spot purely for proximity to the bowl of fresh nuts he was readily stuffing in his mouth, while Sera¡¯s reason was purely distance from the King.


    Maya grabbed a spot on the large chaise next to the wall I was holding up. Though she was silent, her tail wrapped around my wrist protectively.


    Everyone was tense waiting for the King to speak. Even Alten. I got the sense the compulsive, immediate eating had less to do with quelling any appetite than restoring as much of his spent energy as he could in case the night took another turn.


    The King stared down at Annette, resting his head on his fist as she waited patiently, seeming to take her measure. ¡°You handled yourself well.¡±


    ¡°I did?¡± Annette blanched. Whatever she¡¯d expected, it hadn¡¯t been that.


    ¡°Did I stammer, girl?¡±


    ¡°Cairn played the more difficult role. All I did was hide, father.¡± Annette bowed, the picture of humility.


    The King scoffed. ¡°Knowing your limits, emancipating yourself, evading recapture undetected, and maintaining a strategic retreat lacks the valor expected of the Valen line.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡ª¡±


    Gil swiped at the apology in irritation. ¡°Fuck expectations. Your brother might be capable of fighting his way out of a brig guarded by slavers and mercenaries unarmed, but he¡¯s an irregularity. You were behind enemy lines, unarmed, and outnumbered. A coward would have stayed hidden. But you revealed yourself while the outcome was still undecided.¡±


    Sera grunted disparagingly, and I cringed, waiting for an explosive reaction.


    It didn¡¯t come. But all he did was grunt back at her mockingly, before returning his attention to Annette, still standing patiently before him, her fingers steepled. ¡°Go on. Name it.¡± He demanded.


    ¡°Father, I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    ¡°Who won, girl?¡± He leaned forward.


    ¡°We... did?¡± Annette said, cringing as she spoke.


    ¡°Ending the battle with a victory. And what do victors get?¡±


    ¡°...Whatever they want?¡±


    ¡°So, you do listen. Now name it.¡±


    Annette blinked several times, as caught off-guard as I was. Because the King of Whitefall did not take losses well, few as they were, and any commentary on such a failure¡ªeither his or someone else¡¯s¡ªwas delivered at the top of his lungs, while he throttled the closest neck nearby. Annette recovered quickly, deep in thought for scant seconds before she delivered her answer. ¡°A stronghold in the Eastern Plains at my command.¡±


    Swinging big, little sister.


    ¡°There are many¡ª¡±


    Still, I couldn¡¯t help but remember the first time I¡¯d been forced to make a similar choice. The mage in the back alley of Kholis. The nausea and unease that haunted me for weeks.


    A draft of frost-bitten air from the nearby window intensified, rich in mana. I altered it, using the current to carry a message to my sister¡¯s ears.


    ¡°It¡¯s no small thing, what he asks. Accept for now, and we can figure out a way to keep your hands clean later.¡±


    Annette seemed to process that idea, then shook her head minutely. She stared up at Gil. ¡°I can choose the method?¡±


    ¡°A victor does not ask. She demands.¡±


    ¡°I will choose the method.¡± She corrected.


    The king nodded. ¡°Good. Then it¡¯s done. Well-reasoned, well-argued, and one less pain in my ass.¡±


    Annette retreated, half-way back to the table before she stopped, and offered another curtsy that was much deeper. ¡°Thank you, father.¡±


    But the king had already moved on, now entirely focused on Sera, still fuming, doing her level best to stare a hole through the table. ¡°Next?¡± He growled.


    Sera¡¯s chuckle was dark and bitter. ¡°What I want, you¡¯ll never give me.¡±


    I tensed, ready to redirect the inevitable outburst.


    The king pondered that, strangely pensive before he finally spoke. ¡°You¡¯ve all heard the tales of my youth. How the mountain folk were brought to heel?¡±


    Annette and I both nodded, while Sera didn¡¯t move.


    He stood, stretching as he approached the window, looking out at the city beneath. ¡°The legend¡¯s grown, as they often do. Bards have a habit of leaving out important details for the benefit of the pretty lies they pedal. The core is true. The beginning, however, was not nearly as frictionless as the bards believe.¡± He watched her in the window¡¯s reflection, waiting for a response.


    When Sera refused to answer, I stepped in and attempted to lighten the mood. ¡°So... you didn¡¯t ascend the mountain shirtless, reaching the peak in one continuous climb, only for the Mountain Folk to recognize the fire of your spirit and welcome you into the fold?¡±


    Gil chuckled. ¡°Well. I did climb it. Around the half-way point, I realized how cold it was. If I stopped, I would likely never start again. So I kept going.¡± His expression lost its mirth. ¡°The lie was how they welcomed me. When I reached the summit, I was greeted with the sight of crude spears and clubs wielded by half-giants. Then I was bound and dragged down a third of the mountain to the place they actually lived, a large stone shelf jutting out from the mountain itself.¡±


    I was dumbfounded. From a pragmatic standpoint, I knew my father¡¯s record couldn¡¯t possibly be as sterling as the legend. It was the only thing that made sense. Any man who¡¯d waged as many wars as King Gil couldn¡¯t possibly win every battle. But this was different. I¡¯d never heard a whisper of it, not even from Thaddeus. ¡°You were captured?¡±


    ¡°Aye.¡± He nodded. ¡°Chained my shackles to the ground unprotected by the elements. Took turns beating the ever-loving piss out of me. Left me there for three days. I think they expected me to die. Or at least, didn¡¯t care if it happened. Even then, I was strong, already blooded, a few battles and skirmishes under my belt. They didn¡¯t help. The mountain folk did not bear the same weaknesses as the enemies with which I was accustomed. My only recourse was to endure. At least until some enterprising idiot mistook my resilience as an opportunity for free labor. The rest plays out more or less how they tell it.¡±


    Across the room, Sera was reaching a boiling point. White knuckles gripped the seat of the chair beneath her, and the wood cracked.


    ¡°I know you¡¯re angry. Just breathe.¡± I tried to whisper. But my entreaty was drowned out in the rumbling of Gil¡¯s voice.


    ¡°You learn things about yourself, when you¡¯re helpless.¡± Gil watched Sera through the reflection. ¡°Limits you never knew you had.¡±


    The chair toppled as Sera surged to her feet, fists clenched, pale skin flushed as she seethed. ¡°So... you¡¯re saying... learning opportunity?!¡±


    ¡°Girl!¡± Gil bellowed, spinning to face her. ¡°Put those damnable ears of yours to use and listen!¡± He stalked towards her, and I nearly moved to intercede before Maya grabbed my arm and stopped me. The King gripped the table and tossed it aside, sending the contents flying beyond the bowl that Alten saved. Again, I tried to move. Again, Maya stopped me.


    ¡°Wait.¡± She mouthed.


    ¡°I am telling you, clearly, that I have stood where you stand. Boiled in the same fire you burn with. A fire that can be quenched through one manner, and one manner alone. So, I will ask again.¡± He leaned towards her, his anger fiery but controlled. ¡°What. Do. You. Want?¡±


    Sera¡¯s eyes went wide for only a second, before her expression hardened and she spoke through clenched teeth. ¡°I want to hurt you.¡±


    ¡°A victor does not ask. She takes.¡± Gil¡¯s smile was all teeth.

 Chapter 223: Fracture XXVIII

    Chapter 223: Fracture XXVIII


    The feeling of strangeness from before had accelerated into a full-blown fever dream. Every time Sera pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocked, and pulled, I braced myself, waiting for the inevitable explosion of anger and brutality.


    Thump.


    King Gil¡¯s head panned downward slowly as he examined the fresh arrow lodged in his bicep. He flexed experimentally, seeming to find it amusing when the shaft dislodged on its own and clattered to the wooden floorboards, wound oozing blood.


    As she had the last five times, Maya approached from the side and prepared to heal him.


    ¡°Leave it. It won¡¯t kill me, and the pain is the point.¡± Gil waved her away and directed his attention to Sera. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t be able to do that. The penetration needs work. I¡¯m completely unarmored. Either you¡¯re pulling your punches, or we need to get you a bow with a stronger draw.¡±


    Sera¡¯s brows furrowed. Rather than answer, she drew another arrow from the quiver, pulled back until her arm trembled, and loosed. The sixth arrow struck his thigh, and Gil half roared, half-laughed. ¡°Better.¡±


    ¡°What is happening?¡± Annette leaned over the table and whispered to me, her eyes wide in confusion. ¡°I was sure he¡¯d blow up as soon as they started.¡±


    ¡°Diplomacy.¡± I answered. Annette was smart, but unlike me, she¡¯d grown up shielded from much of the more visceral aspects of Gil¡¯s style of rule. It hadn¡¯t helped me much in my first life, but in my second, I¡¯d come to realize that violence was, in many ways, a universal language. Beyond killing, savaging, and destroying, it could also be leveraged to communicate. Sometimes that communication was as unsubtle and jarring as a club to the face, sometimes it was toned down, almost delicate.


    And there wasn¡¯t a person alive that spoke the language of violence as fluently as King Gil.


    ¡°In a way,¡± I winced as another arrow struck the king¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s almost an apology.¡±


    My little sister gave me a withering look. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier to just, you know, say he¡¯s sorry like a normal person?¡±


    ¡°Get the sense that isn¡¯t his style.¡± Alten quipped, staring at the empty bowl of nuts before replacing them on the table.


    ¡°A formal apology only goes so far.¡± I shook my head. ¡°If I had to guess, the King took Sera¡¯s questioning farther than intended. He wasn¡¯t expecting her to hold her tongue and when she did, he escalated¡ªmaybe in anger, perhaps with intent. The fact alone that she returned to the regiment knowing she might come into conflict with him again after the hell he put her through is a reality the King can¡¯t ignore.¡±


    ¡°So, what, father¡¯s challenging her tenacity?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not the tenacity he¡¯s worried about.¡± Alten shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s the spite. The darkest desires of a soul rarely vanish with time. If anything, it¡¯s the opposite. The longer the wounds fester, the more twisted the bearer becomes. Eventually that spite forms the perfect breeding ground for rage, and in the end, vengeance.¡±


    ¡°Leaving nothing but a hateful shell.¡± Thoth¡¯s face emerged in my mind, and I grimaced, banishing it.


    An arrow zipped through the air, thudding into Gil¡¯s chest. I stood immediately as Maya rushed over, expression furious as she gripped Gil¡¯s shoulder, diagnostic magic washing over him in a river of green. ¡°His lung is perforated. Not only is it deflating, you were a finger-span from his heart. That is more than enough, I¡¯m putting an end to this.¡±


    Sera showed no reaction. There was a coldness in her eyes I knew well, and before anyone could react, she drew the bow again. Maya stepped in front as I silently summoned mana, preparing to intervene. ¡°Move, infernal.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Maya refused.


    The king reached up, brushing her fingers that held the bow with the back of his hand, smiling sadly. The exact expression he¡¯d worn just before he died the first time. ¡°I am sorry, girl. I was not raised with tenderness or kindness. My upbringing was difficult. And while there was a time I hated every man and woman who held authority over me, eventually, I came to realize that their cold-heartedness tempered my resolve. Prepared me for the crown.¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Sera bristled.


    ¡°You believe I care for you less for you because of blood?¡±


    ¡°What other explanation is there?¡±


    ¡°Blood plays a part, but not the way you believe. Your golden hair is close enough to the queen¡¯s. Taken alone, few would question it. But once your eyes changed color, and you began to experiment with the arcane, I knew it would lead to whispers. If I ignored them, including you in the same manner as your brother and sister, the people would hate you for it. Question the legitimacy of the Valen name. Presenting you as a bastard provides an explanation, ensures others do not see you as a threat, and prepares you for the reality of the life you live.¡±


    The bow trembled. ¡°If that¡¯s the truth... why couldn¡¯t you just tell me? Explain the reasoning the same way you¡¯re doing now? I would have accepted it¡ªI would have accepted anything. Even if I didn¡¯t like it. Knowing would be better than wondering, all these years, if I was even wanted.¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯ve seen too many coddled nobles die a swift, dishonorable death. I didn¡¯t want that for you. Any of you.¡± He cast a look and Annette and I. ¡°Your future subjects will question you, no matter how vast your wisdom, how sterling your rule. Praise creates weakness. Turns the studious into sycophants, cloying for approval. I never questioned that decision until today.¡±


    Slowly, the string slackened, and the bow tumbled from Sera¡¯s grasp as she sobbed.


    The king sighed and leaned his head back, resting against the cushion. Maya approached silently and tended his wounds as he continued to speak. ¡°Because today, in what I believed to be a direct but necessary attempt to evaluate my son, I killed him. Watched him depart for the halls of Valhalla as his lips paled and his blood sunk into stone. And despite that being a nasty trick,¡± he glanced at me in displeasure, ¡°I had a great deal of time to wonder. If it ends like this, what was the point? What was it all for? If the means do not achieve the ends, the means must be judged on their individual merit alone.¡± He looked at Sera with something that almost resembled empathy. ¡°I will always be a king first, and a father second. That is what it means to be a ruler. But death is swift, and plans so often unravel. Perhaps, ever so rarely, a king should coddle his child.¡±


    King Gil took Sera¡¯s arm and drew her to him, sitting her on his knee and running a hand through her hair as she wept bitterly into his chest.


    Once Maya¡¯s magic faded and she looked to me questioningly, I cleared my throat, not entirely sure how to feel. Some of Sera¡¯s invective was solely hers. But much of it had resonated with me, as it probably had for Annette as well. She was staring at our father and sister, wide-eyed, completely motionless. I waved a hand in front of her face and gestured for her to follow. ¡°Let¡¯s... give them some space.¡±


    Alten, still waiting outside the door, fell in step with us. ¡°King dead?¡±


    ¡°Almost.¡± Maya grumbled, glancing back towards the doorway.


    Annette¡¯s hand slipped into mine as we walked. ¡°Cairn.¡± She asked quietly, voicing the same question I didn¡¯t dare speak aloud. ¡°How much of that was real?¡±


    Even with an entire lifetime worth of memories to draw from, my mind was spinning. Nothing like this had happened in my previous life. The regret in his voice, the guilt, and admission of past failings¡ªeven the apology¡ªall felt authentic. Then again, I could say with near-complete confidence that he¡¯d genuinely hated me towards the end of my past life. It was a question of causality. Maybe it hadn¡¯t always been that way. Elphion knows I had it coming. I spit in his face whenever I could, resisted anything he¡¯d tried to teach me, shirked every responsibility, and ultimately, ruined his legacy.


    Of course he¡¯d hate me.


    I wanted to believe his explanation. That the cruelty he¡¯d routinely treated us with was paved with good intentions, even if the method was misguided. But the terrors he¡¯d inflicted on both us and the world at large would not be so easily swept away.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I admitted.

 Chapter 224: Fracture XXIX

    Chapter 224: Fracture XXIX


    Nothing makes sense.


    We¡¯d gone our separate ways quickly the previous night. Annette retired to her rooms for the evening, while Maya tended Daloch. I¡¯d come along, intent on speaking with him as soon as possible, but he was barely coherent, and after a few questions answered with gibberish, I was chased out.


    I hadn¡¯t slept well, the source of my unrest the same thoughts and burgeoning questions that persisted into the early morning. Finally, I surrendered and headed out to the yard.


    I swung a little too hard, sending the practice dummy¡¯s head flying into the dew-glistening grass. In a few hours, once the sun started to rise, the practice grounds would be overrun with soldiers looking to test their fellows and reinforce their training, some of whom were from my own regiment. But for now, it was a bastion of tranquility and entirely abandoned, save a single servant who observed from a high window, sipping from a simple cup¡ªprobably tea.


    ¡°Early riser?¡± I called out to him.


    ¡°Late sleeper.¡± He raised his cup. ¡°The lavender helps. Been a godsend for the graveyard shift.¡±


    ¡°Right.¡± A sunken face with empty eyes floated before me, taunting me even as I struggled to banish it. I¡¯d had similar experiences towards the beginning of my second life. Thoth¡¯s violent conquest and faces of the trail of dead that followed in her wake had haunted me for some time. Comparatively, it¡¯d been easier to shake. There was a part of me that knew, distressing as it all was to witness first-hand, that it hadn¡¯t really happened. Or at least, hadn¡¯t happened yet.


    My mother, both my sisters, and my father, along with countless civilians and nobles slaughtered in the collateral all got a second chance.


    And Lillian... didn¡¯t.


    The rage boiled up, and before I could stop myself, I was swinging the practice sword at the dummy again, aiming at its middle, intending¡ªirrationally¡ªto cleave it in two. Of course, the blade broke, snapping at impact, sending the pointed end spinning off towards the small storage hut.


    ¡°Yes, take it out on the dummy and pretend you¡¯re achieving something.¡± I rolled my eyes, tossing the remaining hilt in a pile with the other two practice blades I¡¯d broken. The whole point in coming out here so early was to clear my head, consider the events of the previous day and the King¡¯s bizarre about-face. Had this been my first life I would have sought my mother¡¯s council. But from our previous conversation, I knew exactly what she¡¯d say.


    ¡°Fighting ghosts?¡± A gruff voice asked, as I felt the tranquility of the practice grounds slipping away from me. Judging from the weapon-length leather bundle Uncle Luther held under his shoulder, it wouldn¡¯t return.


    ¡°Trying. Shouldn¡¯t you be sneaking out of some noble lady¡¯s bedroom at this hour?¡± I joked, perusing a rack of practice swords, testing them one after another, finding them all wanting.


    ¡°More baseless accusations from my pious nephew.¡± Luther clutched his chest, scandalized.


    ¡°Are they?¡± I gave the sword a spin. ¡°Baseless, I mean.¡±


    ¡°Not really.¡± Luther shrugged. He dropped the bundle on the ground and unrolled it, revealing contents that shimmered dark bronze. ¡°Sneaking around was the way I lived for a long time. Thought I was being discreet, but eventually, some runt called me out.¡±


    Oh.


    ¡°Oh.¡± I said aloud, feeling awkward.


    ¡°Gave me less shit than I deserved. Far less. But the fact alone that he was not only aware, but seemed to regard it as common knowledge, was... sobering.¡± Luther frowned. ¡°And when he disappeared with nothing more than a word of warning, convinced¡ªno, confident¡ªI couldn¡¯t protect him, that was a wake-up call too.¡±


    ¡°I¡ªI didn¡¯t mean to abandon you.¡± I tried, feeling yet another layer of guilt settle on my shoulders.


    ¡°No, no. You were right to run.¡± Luther shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter how young she looked. She was a force of nature. What she did to the horses alone¡ªwell. It will remain firmly lodged in my mind long after I leave this plane, same as most of the men who immediately lost their nerve and fled. Your warning probably saved my life. Without it, I would have dug in my heels to cover the retreat and died for nothing.¡±


    I nodded, watching quietly as he retrieved a bronze-bladed longsword from the pack and gave it a test swing. It was a little large for someone of my stature, but it suited someone Luther¡¯s size perfectly.


    ¡°Back home, I found¡ªperhaps because of the attack¡ªyour insights stuck with me. So I stopped hunting skirts. Dedicated myself to my training and my nagging wife. And you know what I found?¡± Luther grinned.


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°They stop nagging when you actually listen.¡± Luther sheathed the longsword and withdrew a second blade from the bundle, also dark bronze, smaller than the first.


    A lower voice spoke from deeper in the courtyard. ¡°The lesson is simple. There is no reason to seek pussy when the pussy was within you all along.¡±


    I put a hand on my face. ¡°Good morning, father.¡±


    Gil strode passed me towards Uncle Luther, stretching his shoulder. ¡°The aching in my extremities says otherwise.¡±


    ¡°What do you say, my king?¡± Uncle Luther stared at my father in challenge. ¡°A quick go before we put the boy through his paces?¡±


    Gil shook his head. ¡°I did not come here for pussy.¡±


    ¡°Harsh.¡±


    Questionable as it was, the cadence and lightheartedness of the exchange could only be one thing. Banter. And apparently they¡¯d been sparring? When the hell had that ever happened?


    I addressed the more pressing issue. The boy-through-his-paces part. ¡°Father, you realize I have to lead my regiment today?¡±


    ¡°Ow¡ªand really, my king? The spinning jumps aren¡¯t acrobatics?¡±


    ¡°No. It looks flashier than it is.¡± The king demonstrated, placing his hand flat on the air. ¡°He is creating anchor points with air mana. With enough impetus he merely needs to support his weight for a short time, moving in a specific direction. Pair that in combination with the unnatural strength of his free arm, and I imagine he could do it almost indefinitely.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡± Luther tapped his chin.


    ¡°Because he hides it.¡± Gil looked at me. ¡°Those who do not catch on will underestimate you, which I suspect is the point. But you should be careful of those who do.¡±


    Right. It was most dangerous versus another spellsword. Anyone with air, water, and especially wind had potentially nasty counters for anchored movement. Void, however, could kill me outright. If I reached out for an anchor, leveraging my entire weight on a single point only to find it gone?


    Disturbing to think about.


    I¡¯d received a similar warning from Master Saladius, a reclusive infernal whose air element mastery was the stuff of legends. But the creatures in the deeper layers of the sanctum were both swift and brutal, and I¡¯d begun to overly rely on the method, regardless.


    Gil stepped away, looking me over. ¡°You have grown accustomed to fighting enemies beneath you. A pitfall that occurs for all skilled swordsmen, eventually. This, however, has been productive. I am pleased. Assuming you agree to continue these sessions every morning, I will grant you support for your operation today in a form of your choosing.¡±


    Somehow, I kept my expression neutral. I¡¯d assumed this would be a onetime thing and done my level best to wring every drop of value I could glean from it. He would slow some with age¡ªthat was inevitable for anyone¡ªbut Gil was still one of, if not the best fighter on the continent. The only reasons I hadn¡¯t asked for his guidance sooner was the expectation he¡¯d find it beneath him, and even if he didn¡¯t, the risk that he might lose his temper and force a reset. Oddly, he seemed to be under the impression I didn¡¯t want to learn from him.


    ¡°Can Sera attend as well?¡± I tried.


    Luther¡¯s cringe mirrored how I felt, as King Gil watched me impassively.


    ¡°Are you asking on her behalf, or yours?¡± Gil asked.


    ¡°Both.¡± I stated honestly. Sera could learn much from the King that would benefit her growth as a warrior, and her growth would only strengthen my regiment so long as she served as a banner-lieutenant. I was about to explain as much when he answered.


    ¡°Fine.¡±


    Luther had a sudden fit of coughing. Behind him, soldiers began to arrive at the training yard, many doing a double-take as they spotted the three of us. Unaware, Gil stared at me expectantly. ¡°And the support?¡±


    I thought about it, the question more complicated than it appeared initially. Sera wouldn¡¯t want father¡¯s troops anywhere near the real conflict. For differing reasons, neither did I. My regiment was well-disciplined, but from what little I observed, they were still treated as outsiders by the greater army. They needed this win, and they needed it to be mostly independent from outside aid. Not to mention the natural loss of organization and efficiency when units that seldomly worked together were required to. Pair that with the tightness and poor-lighting of the sewers, friendly fire was almost inevitable.


    ¡°The only issue I foresee is one of manpower.¡± My brow furrowed. ¡°We don¡¯t know what, exactly, we¡¯re going to find or how difficult the battle will be. My first instinct is to bring my entire regiment to bear as directly as possible, but if we do that, the escape routes are many. We risk flushing the creature, or creatures, out into the open and making things worse.¡±


    King Gil grinned savagely. ¡°So you need hands to hold the boiler closed while you cook them alive. I like it. How many points of retreat?¡±


    I winced, remembering the many tiny flags marking avenues the sewer could be accessed dotted across Kilvius¡¯s map. ¡°Around thirty.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s a lot of troops, boy.¡±


    ¡°I know. Even partial coverage¡ª¡±


    ¡°I did not say it was too many.¡± Gil held out a hand to stop me. ¡°Just that the favor is out of scope and requires recompense.¡±


    Alright, he was willing to consider it. Better than it could have gone. I braced myself and asked. ¡°What sort of recompense?¡±


    ¡°Perhaps... a celebratory meal tonight, after your victory.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°Like, a feast?¡±


    He waved that idea away. ¡°Smaller. I¡¯ll handle your mother, but I¡¯d like you to ensure your sisters are in attendance. Bring the infernal. Leave the cat and dog.¡±


    Simple as it was, the mental dots were so far apart it was difficult to connect them. ¡°You want to have a family dinner, with no one else in attendance.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Gil gave the still gaping Luther a withering stare. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll be able to make it?¡±


    ¡°Uh... certainly. Nothing pressing in my schedule.¡± Luther rubbed the back of his head.


    ¡°Ugh.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take it. We have a deal.¡± I answered, after the shock had worn off. The queen being there was a minor discomfort given how we¡¯d left things, but if Gil was going to keep bargaining with offerings I already hoped for, I was going to make out like a bandit.


    All we had to do was to make it through the sewers.

 Chapter 225: Fracture XXX

    Chapter 225: Fracture XXX


    The march towards the south-end of the city was a novel experience. Generally, the average person wouldn¡¯t give two shits about the clash with House Westmore. What they should give a shit about was the massive uptick in military presence, skirmishes on the streets, and fires. Yet we were met with little enmity. Somehow, it was almost the opposite.


    A priest, likely assigned to a Topside parish, considering the severe, almost monkish asceticism of his attire paired with a brooch of Onara on his collar approached Annette, a small clutch of freshly picked flowers beneath his arm. "Goddess''s greetings, Princess." His smile was generous and gap-toothed as he held them out to her.


    Annette took them slowly, looking him over before giving the simple bouquet a performative sniff. "These are lovely. But I am not currently available for courtship."


    Beside me, Sera choked and laughed. But my little sister''s warning¡ªwhile awkward and harsh¡ªdid not seem to diminish the priest''s enthusiasm.


    "Alas, as Elphion holds a claim on my soul, we are alike in that small way." He patted her horse.


    "Then these are simply tribute?" Annette asked.


    The priest nodded. "You were hardly the first to fall prey to Panthanian machinations, yet one of the rare few to escape them. The rejection of their brutish norms and gilding of their authority brings hope to many."


    Internally, I struggled not to roll my eyes. House Westmore had Uskarrion roots long before the slavers established a Panthanian foothold. And they made that foothold after the prior king elevated them to noble status. Crippling them and stripping them of their status was more janitorial than valiant. A long overdue tidying of our own mess. But of course, self-reflection and societal responsibility was a difficult topic, ungraspable for many, so naturally it wasn''t the angle Thaddeus would choose to spin the events of the last few days.


    "Then, thank you." Annette nodded, showing great tact. There was no doubt in my mind she''d connected the same dots I had, to the point I''d half expected her to correct him. But she was far more diplomatic in this life than the former. "They''ll live on my window-sill in a crystal vase, and I''ll tend them daily."Upstodatee from


    "Very kind, your grace. However, these are Gilded Asters. I was careful to maintain their roots. If you choose to replant them in a place that is partially shaded, they thrive almost anywhere."


    These are the ones that help. They thrive here more than most weeds, yet their applications are limitless. You''ll find them in any field or forest. But if you need them in greater numbers, there''s no better place to search than a graveyard.


    "Ah. Then I''ll plant them in the patch of earth beneath my window, where I may look out and see them bloom." Annette withdrew a small blanket from her satchel and wrapped them.


    The priest bowed, then turned to me. "There was more I would deign to discuss, but from the look of things, you are in a hurry."


    On one hand, we were in a hurry. On the other, Annette was rarely sought out by the public, and despite her show of sternness was clearly delighted with the gift. If he wanted something else and was using the gift to gain an audience with a prince, I could appreciate the cleverness. As my father had just proved, there were far more distasteful methods of gaining my attention.


    "The crown always has time for our spiritual counsellors. But if the matter is complex, it might be best to schedule a time so we may discuss in greater detail." I said, my delivery atypically wooden. Despite knowing full-well that the gods of this plane---with few exceptions---had left us, being in the presence of priests and other religious folk often made me uncomfortable. They wouldn''t look kindly on my "cavorting" with demons, to be certain, but it was more than that. From the beginning of my second life, I''d been forced to make difficult decisions. Choices that often led to solutions that were underhanded and occasionally cruel, albeit by necessity. Most religions demanded their supplicants live in a binary, right and wrong, good and evil.


    I always tried to do the good thing. The right thing. But the more difficult the situation, the more I found myself beholden to a different binary. The thing that worked, and the thing that didn''t.


    The result was a quagmire most gods would probably disapprove of.


    Despite my obvious reticence, the priest shook his head. "It''s a simple matter. But an important one nonetheless."


    "Then speak."


    His expression grew solemn, full of empathy. "Shameful as this is to admit, it''s come to my attention that a woman was interred in the graveyard attached to my chapel without the proper rites."


    The air evacuated my lungs, as the weight---always there, but often banished from the forefront of my mind, crushed down on me. Images from that day assailed me one after another, their sharpness cutting deep, only dulling as Maya placed a hand on the small of my back. Somehow I formed a sentence. "If it''s that the plot is unpaid for..."


    The priest shook his head. "You misunderstand me, your grace. There are many in Topside who cannot afford a plot. Were I to circle the city like a tax collector, demanding payment to all those who laid their dead to rest in hallowed ground, there would be countless vacated graves, and I would be no richer for it." Something approaching passion flashed in his eyes. "Even if I were that sort of man, we do not charge heroes for their resting place."


    "I''m sorry, heroes?" Maya repeated, giving voice to the question lodged in my throat.


    "Yes, noble diplomat." The priest addressed her, casting the occasional glance at me. "If the rumors are to be believed." He waited for confirmation.


    "What rumors?" I managed, weakness in my voice betraying me.


    "Pardon." The priest cleared his throat, hesitating. "If there is nothing to them, I apologize. But from my understanding the woman was an apothecary''s apprentice---"


    Right so far.


    He bowed low and peered at me as he rose. "It will be done. The church will send word once the day is set. I''m not sure how familiar you are with our process, but during the funeral, there is a period of remembrance. Would you like to speak there?"


    Of course I would. But as I imagined being there, speaking for her, something about it felt wrong. Across both lives, I''d failed Lillian. In my first life I''d seen only what I wanted to see, and despite all my plans and good intentions, pushed her into a role she''d never wanted to play. In this life, I hadn''t been there when Thoth tied her to a chair, goaded her screams for help, and laughed¡ªlaughed¡ªwhen no one came.


    I should have been there. Then. When she actually needed me. Arriving half a decade too late in a world she never knew me, drawing attention away from her contributions to share my sorrows when it was my choices that brought her nothing but grief in return?


    It would be wrong to even attend, let alone speak for her.


    I stared at the ground, suddenly unable to look the priest in the eye. "I''m not sure."


    From the long hesitation, the response wasn''t what he expected. When he finally spoke his voice was kindly, practiced, as if he''d said similar things countless times before. "From what I''ve heard, you have the gift of speech. But the gods know better than anyone that some words carry more weight than others. And while there are those among my brethren would vehemently disagree, personally, I don''t believe the dead care for our words at all."


    "No?"


    "Of course not." The priest huffed in annoyance. "If you were suddenly uprooted from this plane, cast into the alien and unfamiliar, then expected to find your way to a place you had no idea how to locate, would you give two shits about what they were saying about you back here?"


    I managed a hollow laugh. "I suppose I''d have bigger things to worry about."


    "Exactly. It''s just common sense. Should you decide to attend, we''ll have a place for you. There is no right or wrong way to honor the dead, your grace. Some find solace in eulogies, others in quiet reflection. The path you choose is yours alone, and the sincerity of your intentions will be felt by those who matter most."


    "Thank you, priest. I''ll think about it."


    /////


    By the time we arrived at the sewer entrance, a few scouts from my regiment were already dismantling the rusting cast-iron bars that held the massive outlet grate shut. This was the widest entry point by far. The sewers themselves were winding and expansive, but so long as we were methodical, the regiment was large enough that the net we cast could cover the entire sewer within a day.


    The regiment unpacked on the mountainous outcropping above, the wafting scent of putrefied refuse pervading our nostrils.


    Someone caught my eye immediately. Nothing about his appearance was extraordinary, if I saw him strolling down the street in Whitefall I likely wouldn''t have given him a second glance. It was his proximity to the grate that was strange. He was mere spans from the men dismantling the grate, close enough that they should have noticed and told him to clear out.


    Then again, arch-fiends probably had a lot of experience going undetected.


    "Need something Ozra?" I dismounted and called over my shoulder.


    He grimaced and disappeared in a flash of smoke that startled the scouts, manifesting astride the horse I''d just dismounted. "Really? No ''who is that, what the hells is he doing there, oh dear gods it''s an arch-fiend?'' I''ve been waiting for hours."


    I leaned over to Annette, unimpressed. "Who is that? What the hells is he doing there?"


    "Dear gods. It''s an arch-fiend." Annette returned in her usual monotone.


    "Perhaps we should not mock the demonic power that so kindly aided us?" Maya called over as she slung her staff over her back.


    "No matter how much we hate each other, the infernals always end up being the most reliable." Ozra pouted, before he seemed to finally grow tired of the charade.


    "What have you been doing?" I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else.


    "Beyond giving kings existential angst? Exploring, mainly. So much has changed from the last time I was here. The existence of buildings, of course, but especially the subterranean. You''ll be clearing the sewer today?" He asked, suddenly serious.


    "That''s the plan." I checked both my sword and sword-breaker, testing the blades with my thumb, finding them both razor sharp. "Any last-minute words of advice?"


    "One in particular." Ozra''s expression clouded. It suddenly struck me that this was probably the second time I''d seen the ancient demon troubled. "Don''t."

 Chapter 226: Fracture XXXI

    Chapter 226: Fracture XXXI


    "We''re going to need more than that." Maya tapped her foot. Behind her, the regiment continued to unpack their horses. Bringing the animals into a filthy environment littered with all sorts of debris likely to cause scrapes and abrasions would be a death sentence for half of them at least, so the plan was to leave them behind.


    "Can''t give you more." Ozra shook his head. "Technically, what I''ve already said could be judged to be in violation. If the judge was biased. Which they always are."


    "Violation of what?" I asked, growing exasperated.


    Ozra mimed sealing his lips shut.


    I clasped the cold amulet on my neck, summoning Vogrin. The demon appeared, his stark visage drawing several gasps as nearby members of my regiment stared, then went on about their business without comment. Yet even now, no one was paying attention to Ozra.


    "He''s being coy." Vogrin said, rubbing his chin.


    "Seems like a scouting opportunity." I suggested.


    "Indeed." Vogrin rotated in mid-air, growing almost translucent as he approached the gate.


    "Really wouldn''t do that." Ozra called out.


    Vogrin halted mid-flight, hand on the gate, twisting around to glower at Ozra. "I''m contracted. Even if there''s something inside capable of killing me, my contract holder could bring me back within the hour."


    "And if your sustained existence was my primary concern, you''d be correct in that assumption. In fact, I might even encourage you." Ozra stage-whispered to me. "He gets so very prickly when he dies."


    I could relate. "Respectfully, Arch-fiend, is there any way you could be less circuitous?"


    "Absolutely not. But if you all insist on smattering me with questions, let¡¯s take this to a more private setting.¡± Ozra snapped his fingers, and the outside world grew hazy, trails of gray smoking separating me, Maya, Annette, and Vogrin from the rest of the regiment. Again, they didn¡¯t seem to notice. An uncomfortable reminder of how powerful the arch-fiend was.


    "Believe it or not, this is my lord and malefactor at his most generous. He seems to be in a magnanimous mood thanks to his vacation. These are all hints... frustrating as they are." Vogrin said tiredly. "So far we can draw the conclusion that there is a serious threat still lingering within the sewers, scouting is pointless, and permanent or temporary, my death is not the issue."


    Ozra held up a finger. "A quick correction. I never said that scouting wouldn''t help."


    "You¨C" Vogrin bit off an angry retort, then rubbed his chin, mulling the new information over. "Ah. Scouting is not the issue. Me being the one to carry it out is where the problem lies."


    "I tend to advise against strategic actions that will achieve nothing at best."


    "If there''s something in there, I will find it." Vogrin countered. Then frowned. "Yet my thoroughness is an attribute you''ve always valued. You''re aware of that. So again, my aptitude is not the problem."


    Ozra scanned the group expectantly.


    It hit me later than it should have. "It''s a safe assumption, based on context, that the arch-fiend is acting in good faith." When both Ozra and Vogrin scoffed, I amended. "Acting in as good of faith as a demon is capable of." That seemed to go over better, so I continued. "Considering his mood and demeanor, and the fact I don''t think he''s boorish enough to fabricate a problem where none exists, we can extrapolate that there''s a real threat, he knows exactly what it is, and while he believes you''re capable of finding it, you would---for some obscure demon reason---not be able to report it. ''Achieving nothing at best.''"


    "I am anything but boorish." Ozra agreed.


    "My mind went there as well." Vogrin agreed, growing visibly irritated. "But nothing connects. Soul-bound contracts favor the binder by design, that''s the point. There''s no temptation in a bad deal. Our contract supersedes almost any agreement or pact the asmodial legion holds."


    Ozra nodded condescendingly. "What precise and accurate wording."


    Vogrin''s mouth opened, then slammed shut, the deathly pallor of his face growing lighter. "You can''t be serious."


    A fetid breeze ruffled Ozra''s hair, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. He held out a hand that was mostly human, save the long needled nails, and held it palm up. "I''d like to inspect the necklace, if you please."


    Maya slowly withdrew the amulet that housed Kastramoth, her hellhound summon.


    "Not that one, infernal."


    The reaction was instantaneous as Maya froze. Painstakingly slowly, she withdrew the locket that housed a shard of the enchanted mirror. "You were watching me. In the sanctum."


    "Long enough to realize that at the pace you were going, you were not long for this world." Ozra opened one eye and peered at her. "Did you really believe that gaggle of idiots you saved from the wyvern were grateful enough to search the entire hoard for the one legendary artifact capable of keeping you alive?"


    "Demons do not gift freely." Maya''s complexion flushed. "This is a lie. A cheap trick."


    "My tricks are priceless. And I was only watching over you because someone asked me to." He cast a meaningful look at me. "The locket, please."


    Maya gripped the locket tightly, grip finally slackening as she handed it over. Ozra popped open the locket and withdrew the shard, discarding the housing and holding it up to the sun. "Even in this sad, diminished state, it pains me to hold it. I always wondered. Did you know of its divine origins, before putting it to the uses you did?"


    "Yes." Maya stared at the ground, her voice hollow.


    Ozra stared into the shard, thoughtful. "You speak as if I''ve never seen you, expatriated from your loyalty. But I know exactly who you are once severed from it. When I imparted this, I expected the rage was a fugue you''d wake up from. Instead, I watched, spellbound, as you stripped away every weakness, amputating every inconvenience, forging yourself into---"


    "A monster." Maya spat, bitterly.


    Ozra shook his head slowly. "No, infernal. A masterpiece. Or the very precipice of one. A perfect fusion of brutality and efficiency, constantly iterating and evolving. And as there is no greater tragedy than an artist denied her brush..." The arch-fiend snapped his fingers, and a whirlwind of reflective mirror fragments assembled around the shard.


    Maya''s eyes widened. "It was dust. Nothing left but that single shard."


    "It''s been something of an undertaking. But I believe the time and effort will be worth it. Unfortunately, the divine energy held within it is long gone," Ozra''s face was a mask of focus, as he reconstituted the mirror, the spider webbing cracks disappearing slowly. The mirror¡ªonce cloudy and light¡ªgained clarity as it changed tone, growing darker by the second. On the ground nearby, the locket melted, floating dots of liquid gold floating up towards the mirror, forming a thin frame. "Thankfully, there''s a convenient substitute. Just as powerful, and far less picky about the manner it is used."


    "Stop." Maya held out a hand. "This was to satisfy my curiosity. My soul was never on the table. No matter what you offer, that will not change."


    "There''s that word again." Ozra chuckled. "Make no mistake. I never intended to ransom this. Nor to extort you over certain details I''m all but certain were glossed over in the retelling." Maya recoiled and stared at the ground again. "But we both know there''s something only I can give you. Something you would trade your soul for in an instant. Consider this a loan, lent without interest, due the day you decide you''re ready for that conversation." The now complete mirror floated out of Ozra''s palm and hovered in front of Maya.


    Reject it. Tell him you want nothing to do with it.


    I urged silently, hoping my feelings would reach her. As far as I could tell, there wasn''t a trap. But if Maya accepted it, it meant Ozra had his foot in the door. As much as I wanted to argue, it wasn''t my decision to make. It was hers.


    "And if that day never comes?" Maya asked, taking the mirror and studying her own reflection.


    "Then I have returned an artist her brush, and will consider it my good deed for the millennia." Ozra sighed. Then suddenly changed tact, perking up. "And of course, there''s someone truly special. A soul that brought new magic into the world, after centuries of stagnancy, one that I have heard no end of." His gaze landed on Annette.


    My sword leapt into my hand, propelled by wind, as demon-fire ignited the blade. I pressed the point against his neck, and when I spoke, my voice was raw.


    "Enough."


    He chuckled, never looking away from my sister. "How long have the nightmares plagued you?"

 Chapter 227: Fracture XXXII

    Chapter 227: Fracture XXXII


    The interior of the privacy dome turned an eerie red hue, amplifying the wispy shadows that circulated the outside. Ozra leaned forward, his previously unremarkable visage much less human-looking now that it was bathed in crimson. The motion forced his neck against the point of my blade, drawing no blood, making only the slightest impression.


    I nearly ended it right there. Fighting Ozra directly wasn''t an option. Even if he didn''t have considerable leverage over me, the sheer difference in ability and experience was substantial. But that didn''t mean I was powerless. Despite his age, resources, and an entire demonic legion''s share of accumulated power, there was still one thing I had that he didn''t. The ability to stop this entire interaction from happening in the first place. It would set me back, potentially weeks. But with my sister''s soul on the line, it was a small price to pay.


    Vibrations from the inscription at my throat resonated into my sternum, as they flooded with mana.


    "This is unseemly, arch-fiend," Vogrin said, voice heavy with disdain.


    "I will not be judged by the likes of you," Ozra didn''t move. Didn''t so much as look at him.


    "Not only is he a contracted soul, he is one that invited you into his home. You risk turning him into yet another cautionary tale," Maya added, moving in a creeping flank to Ozra''s left.


    I paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself, prepared to plunge into the dark. Then a possibility formed in the back of my mind, one cobbled together with information from Vogrin''s theory and prior dealings with the arch-fiend. I shoved down the rage to a distant simmer and forced myself to think strategically. "Interesting. Of the many descriptives that could apply to you, Ozra, desperate has never been one of them. Yet here we are."


    "What?" Ozra balked, his malevolent cheer dying instantly.


    "You style yourself after the greater evils, in both aesthetic and demeanor. Abyssal powers that lay in wait for supplicants to approach them, hearing their pleas and entreaties from a seat of perfect, unflinching authority. Not a bandit razing travelers on the open road." Something tugged on the sleeve of my sword arm, small fingers plying at the fabric.


    Vogrin had it backward. There''s no cataclysm. Or if there is, it''s not what he''s worried about.


    I continued. "I''ve seen a lot of plans fall to pieces. More than my share. In my experience, it goes one of two ways. Panic is the most common path. But if you''re experienced in watching the gods shit skyward all over your machinations? The better option is to get mean. Quicken the pace, double-down, salvage whatever you can before the ploy is blown. Naturally that requires a drastic alteration in behavior. Interesting again, when you mentioned your list of favored souls, that the only souls you included are people currently present. Whitefall is overrun with talented warriors, and though they are smaller in number than the others, gifted mages. An unidentified void mage potentially capable of turning large-scale battles in their favor should be of significant interest, yet, they bear no mention."


    Ozra reacted. The tiniest twitch of his lips, pulling sideways. A grimace? A smile? I couldn''t be sure. "Always finding increasingly elegant ways to grasp at straws. Perpetually on the fringes of a mystery you can never fully grasp. The sheer cuckoldry of your perception must be quite frustrating."


    "Alright then. Here''s what I''ve perceived," I snapped, feeling the tirade coming and doing nothing to stop it. "The unfortunate reality that you seemingly can''t warn us is probably true. I¡¯ve spent a lot of time with Vogrin, enough to become familiar with his mannerisms and¡ªperhaps foolishly¡ªconsider him a friend. Wisdom of that aside, he seemed utterly taken off guard by your actions here, so this wasn''t pre-planned. You returned Maya''s mirror under the guise of favoritism and charity, and while the former holds truth, the latter is anything but. This isn''t about bartering for hints, or indirectly providing aid. You said yourself there was nothing you could offer Maya to secure her soul. Not yet. But you returned the one item that would keep her alive in almost any circumstance. Even if everyone else around her is obliterated, if she''s fast enough¡ªwhich I believe she is¡ªshe will persevere. However long it takes, she will piece herself back together and come staggering back out of that hole, shaken, in mourning. Vulnerable. Where you''ll be waiting to resume negotiations."


    "Is this true?" Maya asked, visibly nauseous at the picture I was painting. Off to the side, Vogrin was watching me mutely, so intently that I half expected to hear his voice in my head. But the voice never came.


    Ozra scoffed, looking utterly unimpressed. "You think I''d trade your soul for his?"


    "Not at all," I smiled thinly. "Regardless of the individual worth of a soul, keeping what you have as leverage while adding more is always preferable to a straightforward trade. Collecting a set of bonded souls has to be, at the very least, a novelty. Two souls that you''re already interested in that just happen to be bonded? All the sweeter. She''s already put her soul on the line for me once. You''ll offer to station her beside me, let us fight together in the hells. And brilliant as she is, grief is a tricky thing." I paused, not bothering to hide the sneer.


    "But that''s the long game. Annette''s the immediate mark. A newly awakened mage capable of directly wielding a highly sought after magic previously achievable only through artifacts. A prestigious and respectable addition to your collection, but unfortunately, lacking in defense. Because the magic is so new, there''s nothing you can give her to insure her survival, so you need to lock it down now. My sister doesn''t know you, and the only demon she''s spent time with is Vogrin. So there''s at least a part of the soft sell to Maya that was performative, propping you up as reasonable, almost magnanimous. Making it all the more effective when you begin to bargain with my sister and the knives come out." I paused, letting the words hang. "Is that... perceptive enough for you?"


    Ozra paused, chewing the words, "I am almost annoyed enough to kill you."


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Maya scoffed, making a dismissive gesture. "A more accurate interpretation would be that they tightened the parameters by which demons could attain a soul in order to lure in more infernals, and grew angry when less of us opted to intentionally sign away eternity."


    "Everyone loves to put a preferential spin on ancient history."


    "On that we agree," Maya shot back.


    "Yet, you''ll make an exception," Annette continued, her scrutiny sharp as a blade. "If my brother''s right, and attaining my soul is your current priority, you''ll allow me an intercessor. If he''s wrong, then the negotiations stop here. I am well spoken but not perfectly precise, and completely inexperienced in these matters. It would be foolish to engage with you on even ground."


    "You realize by electing a second, you grant me the right to summon my own?" Ozra asked, growing testy.


    "Any further demon brought to bear would be dwarfed by the threat you already pose. It makes no difference to me."


    "That''s... true enough," Ozra said, seeming to belatedly take the observation as a compliment. "You''ll be taking the infernal as your councillor, yes?"


    "Intercessor," Maya and Annette corrected in unison. "And yes," Annette added, glancing at Maya. "If she agrees."


    "My mother would be a better choice, but I''ll do everything I can to fill that role," Maya said, approaching Annette and standing beside her, arms crossed behind her back.


    Unable to stand aside any longer, I took Annette by the shoulders and escorted her to the edge of the privacy dome. "Are you sure you want to do this? You''ve created an advantage, yes, but a grievance as well. Ozra won''t go easy after that. For example, I wouldn''t be surprised if his second is something heinous or grotesque, a creature too terrifying to even look at."


    Annette considered the possibility. "If it''s too much, I''ll put an end to it. But I doubt there''s anything he can do to scare me."


    "That sounds more like something Sera would say."


    "It''s not bravado," Annette smiled thinly, and just for a moment, the mask of stoicism fell away. "It¡¯s the opposite. For as long as I can remember, I''ve been terrified. Some days it''s so bad I''m scared to even leave my rooms."


    My chest panged in empathy, as I remembered how she''d barricaded herself away in my previous life. "Why?"


    She shook her head. "I... don''t know. There''s nothing in the texts to explain it, no arcane malady or sickness of the mind that perfectly fits, though some cut closer than others. It''s not that I don''t believe he''s capable of scaring me. Obviously, he could. I just can''t imagine anything he could conjure being worse than the shadows that already torment me. Please, please don''t deny me this. If there''s a chance I can learn anything from this exchange, it''s worth the risk."


    "But never your soul."


    "Line in the sand," Annette agreed. Her expression was resolute. Cold. This was important to her. More important than I could fathom.


    Silently, I turned her around, put a hand between her shoulder blades, and pushed. "Gut him."

 Chapter 228: Fracture XXXIII

    Chapter 228: Fracture XXXIII


    There was a flickering blur as our surroundings changed. One moment, I could see the familiar figures of my regiment through the oscillating black wreath of the privacy dome, slow tension building as they awaited the command to breach the sewers. Then the dome and the world beyond it fell away, replaced with another that was entirely different.


    Long rows of dark-stained oak bookshelves and the occasional glass display buttressed a wide center space of marble tile, tall ceiling interrupted by a generous center skylight framing soft beams of illumination emanated by unfamiliar moons in the dark firmament beyond. Braziered torches stood like diminutive pillars, their combined heat raising the temperature in the room just beyond comfortable, shining dimly on silver inlays that sprawled a jagged geometric pattern too broad to parse.


    Ozra, having returned to his typical appearance¡ªI hesitate to call it true, though if it is not, I have yet to see his true face¡ªof a tall, domineering man with harsh, angular features, strode towards the center, arms clasped behind his back, tails of his gray coat trailing behind him. The arch-fiend tilted his head back and proclaimed, "I, Ozra, Arch-fiend of the Asmodial Legion, call upon Loria, Diadem of the Fetid Wastes, to serve as my second."


    A fountain of stinking red spurted upwards, filling the air with the scent of copper and rot before its curtains parted to reveal a woman''s slim silhouette, thickening waves of crimson cascading down her form and solidifying into a dark-red garment, the long fringes that descended to just below her knees asymmetrical and uneven, reminiscent of dangling intestines. A tall pile of viscous matter accumulated atop her smooth head, macabre color fading as it became fibrous, forming an elegant lady''s wig. She curtsied low, looking up towards the arch-fiend with an impish grin. "It is my pleasure to serve."


    "We recognize the equivalency of this appointment, and accept its authenticity," Maya said dryly, glaring daggers at the new arrival, the faintest hint of mockery in her voice as she matched Ozra''s overly formal tone. Like them, her wardrobe had also changed, light armor replaced with traditional infernal robes.


    Only Annette, Vogrin, and I remained unaltered, intentionally out of place.


    Loria started at the sound of Maya''s voice, eyes darting back and forth from us, to Ozra, to the room itself. "Ah. Will I be serving as your second in a... traditional capacity this day?" She frowned slightly, as if puzzled.


    "Yes, my gem. You will serve as scribe, and proctor, to ensure the intercessor''s grasp does not exceed her reach," Ozra''s lip pulled back unpleasantly as he glanced at Maya over his shoulder.


    "Traditional indeed. But it has been some time since I''ve held a quill." The woman crossed her arms and murmured quietly, fingers plying nervously at her collarbone. "There is a possibility I''ll fall behind." Her lips parted, and she was about to say more before Ozra silenced her with a touch, running a thumb down her jaw.


    "Then you shall call a halt, and resume only once the pen has caught pace with your mind," Ozra said, uncharacteristically gentle.


    As Ozra carried on with his assistant, beside me, my little sister was staring at the interaction. Hard. After a moment, she tugged my sleeve and whispered, "Why did the arch-fiend place so much importance on being able to choose his own second only to select a courtesan for the role?" She tilted her head. "A nepotistic appointment? Doubtful, as there can''t be much acclaim to be earned in a negotiation intended to be kept secret. Placing importance on trust over competency, or..." Her scowl deepened. "A subtle slight, perhaps. Yes. A petty method to express his annoyance with our insistence on a retired framework, whinging about making things equal, only to elect some harlot, communicating exactly how unthreatening he finds us."


    I debated internally, unsure of how much to say. It would be simple enough to poke a hole in the ruse, tell her what I knew. After all, unbeknownst to anyone present, I''d met the woman before while she was acting in ''service'' of Ozra, and their dynamic was entirely different. But once the negotiations began, I wouldn''t be able to interfere directly. It was better to teach her how to engage them, than provide the answer directly.


    I cleared my throat and leaned down. "Before I answer, mind that you''re not deceived by the illusion of distance. It is likely they can hear every word we speak in this room, observe every gesture, every flicker of expression. And the infernal registry will guarantee everything that transpires¡ªbig or small¡ªis eternally put to record."


    "What... they don''t even need a scribe? Her presence here serves no practical purpose whatsoever?" Annette asked, her annoyance almost palpable.


    "Recite Wi''rell''s aspects of the hypostatic mind for me, if you would?"


    Annette blew air between her lips, annoyance flagging as she recited by memory. "The rational mind, the inner-mind, and the mind that questions all. Drawing equally from the tripartite, as Wi''rell counselled."


    "For our purposes, filter your perceptions through the Mind That Questions All. Self evaluate without bias. The moment that woman appeared, you hated her. Why?"


    "Hate is a strong word," my sister argued.


    "So is harlot," I noted dryly.


    "It wasn''t the moment she appeared," Annette pushed back, subconsciously straightening her attire. "In a macabre way, the entrance itself was... impressive. As was the arcane tailoring of her form. It resembled illusion magic, but it cannot be the same, as they would not hold an interest in me if they already possessed a close analog. To that point, she held my interest." Annette ground her teeth. "Only to lose it the second she opened her mouth."


    "Good, so far."


    "I suppose the source of my ire is because I am immersed in an environment full of utterly incompetent nobles who attain important, sometimes critical positions they are in no way qualified for through bribes, political maneuvering, and... other means. And there was a part of me that assumed, ancient as they are, the demons would be more meritocratic."


    I cleared my throat. "As close to my genuine feelings and beliefs as possible. Especially with family. But, as I said. Everyone is acting." For this to work, I needed to disarm her bias before her dislike was solidified, lest the latter fuel the former. "Drawing on the inner mind, for a moment, can you perhaps find something about a person like Ozra''s second you could empathize with?"


    "What''s the point of this?"


    "Humor me."


    Annette scoffed, and when I didn''t waver, thought hard. "Her... sense of style is impeccable."


    I rolled my eyes. "Alright, and?"


    "The world is frightening enough, even though, for the most part, I understand it. If I didn''t, if I was... slower, hadn''t read as much and didn''t have every tutor in the palace at my disposal, more innate difficulty connecting the dots... it would be a lot scarier. And if appearance and magnetism were my only weapons... I''d have little choice but to wield them," Annette admitted, begrudgingly.


    "Given the power and authority we wield simply by happenstance of birth, we cannot afford to judge others simply because they differ from us, because they hold different talents, or because they chose a different walk in life. Or because they were born of a different region or share different physical characteristics than us. Maybe it isn''t fair. In some cases, like the critical appointments you mentioned, things should change. But they should change because it is the just decision, and incompetence where competence is required will cause others to suffer. Not because you cannot stand the sight of them."


    Her eyes burned with sapphire flame. "The parallel you''re drawing between my beliefs and father''s is as inaccurate as it is unappreciated. A false equivalency at best."


    "Maybe. To the king''s credit, he seems to have, potentially, left his antiquated perspective behind. But consider this. With all the wars he fought, the countless men ordered to their deaths to uphold his ideals? Do you think he believed them any less fiercely than you believe yours?"


    "You''ve gotten better at arguing," Annette said, after a long moment, her voice almost glum. "A lot better."


    "We''re not quite done yet," I smiled thinly. "Bringing it¨C"


    "¨CWhat could possibly come next?" Annette hissed. "Shall I invite the demon to a lady''s night? Bond over how fundamentally broken we both are?"


    "Trust me, you''ll want to hear this part. Bringing it back to the rational mind for a moment, taking all the emotional context we gathered from the inner-mind, the caution and awareness we gathered from the mind that questions. Why might an ancient demon who, given the confident grasp on her magic is likely much older than most elves, act the part of a social climbing mortal at all?" I tapped my fingers on my arm, waiting for her reaction.


    Annette''s jaw dropped. "The second''s been playing a role from the moment she manifested. Acting a part that the arch-fiend wrote for her, a disruptive factor intended to throw me off. In all likelihood, she''s not at all what she appears to be."


    I nodded, feeling a surge of pride. "I suspect your second theory¡ªthe intended slight¡ªis what you were meant to believe. And when she interjects, or calls for a pause..."


    "I''d ignore her out of hand. Assume the pauses were nothing more than idiocy instead of an intentional tactic, which would work almost immediately to their advantage." Annette pressed her chin into her fist, furious at herself for the oversight. "How did you see it when I missed it completely?"


    "Experience helps," I consoled her, and then paused. Assuming Ozra could hear every word we were saying right now, this presented a unique opportunity to fire back. Sow the same sort of discourse in his camp he''d attempted to seed in ours. Because I had many, many, vivid memories of Loria. And as most of them ended in death, neither Ozra nor his second would have the faintest clue where my description was coming from. "And, to be transparent, I''m cheating a bit. Loria has many duties to the asmodial legion, but from my observations, her standout favorite is torture. Like any sadist worth their salt, she goes for the nails and teeth first, in that order, as they''re straightforward and conveniently organized. But if I had to guess, her true love lies in a slow, lingering asphyxiation. Her preferred tool is a dark leather strap, which she tightens slowly, over the course of hours. More than three, but rarely exceeding twelve, the poor bastard''s windpipe tightening to a pinhole, yet never closing completely. She is not to be taken lightly."


    "That''s horrible. If... I''m understanding you correctly... why would Ozra select her for this role in light of this shared history?" Annette asked, staring at me with barely restrained sympathy.


    I smiled savagely, feeling some of the ebbing mania from the attack on the estate return. "You misunderstand. I''ve observed her. But she never saw me coming, and she never saw me leave. The asmodial concept of security is... somewhat antiquated."


    Out of the corner of my vision I saw Loria twitch. Ozra trailed off mid-sentence in his negotiation with Maya, picking up a second later, the lull barely detectable. But it was there. More importantly, my sister had gone cold. It was clear in her frigid eyes that she''d reassembled the pieces I''d placed before her and come to the correct conclusion. She¡¯d be more reserved, now, more cautious, now that she¡¯d seen, directly demonstrated, how subtle the demons machinations could be. We''d declined Ozra''s opening gambit and countered with one of our own.


    The rest was up to her.

 Chapter 229: Fracture XXXIV

    Chapter 229: Fracture XXXIV


    "If we''re done whispering to each other like confabulating children, shall we begin what we came here to do?" Ozra approached the central table that held the Koss board, gesturing towards it with casual aplomb, any indication that he was at all unsettled by the pre-negotiation maneuvering perfectly concealed.


    Annette steeled herself and followed, coming to a stop across from the arch-fiend. She held there, making no effort to reach for the chair, expression muted and cold.


    A minute passed. Then another. And another.


    Finally, Ozra spoke, side of his mouth pulling up in a half smile. "For a people with roots so recently mired in savagery, you Uskarrions spare such pretense for pageantry."


    "Have you negotiated with so many of us, my lord?" Annette asked, cocking her head to the side.


    "A long time ago, before they bore the name. Simpler times. But it may surprise you to learn your brother did much the same." The arch-fiend spared me a sidelong glance. "Evaluated the room, the setting. Refused to sit as it would position his head below mine, reflecting a disparity in power that, while accurate, did not appeal to his vanity." His eyes slid back to her. "It did not help him any more than it will help you."


    "I beg to differ." From behind, I saw Annette''s thumb press into her hand, massaging her palm in idle circles. "A demonic summon, the support of a powerful and organized demonic legion as well as various boons and resources he eventually leveraged to solidify relations with a second, potentially more powerful ally. From all appearances, Prince Cairn secured exactly what he sought."


    "At great price. A price many might argue to be foolish."


    "I do not care for the arguments of the many. Just as my reticence to sit has nothing to do with dynamics of power."


    "Oh?" Ozra raised an eyebrow.


    Annette extended her arm towards the chair. "These are clearly formal proceedings. Which raises a question of etiquette. Were we in my kingdom, I would sit first and wait for you to join me." She looked around the expansive room, her impassive voice echoing off the tile. "However, this appears to be the hells, or at the very least analogous. In which case, our roles would be reversed."


    "It is a place between," Ozra answered, seemingly pleased by Annette''s explanation.


    "Then we will take our places concurrently." Annette pulled out her chair, waiting for Ozra to do the same. The moment they both settled down, she fired off the obvious question. "Why is there a Koss board?"


    Ozra picked up the white queen piece, rotating it idly in his fingertips. "Because from what I''ve heard, I''m in the presence of a master. Naturally, I wanted to test my mettle," He grinned, sharpened incisors on full display. "And, forgive the cliche?, but I find this sort of mental spar far more interesting when there''s a wager in play."


    "Terms?" Annette asked.


    "If you win, I''ll do whatever you like. Answer any questions rattling around in that sweet little mind of yours, including the identity of the person who holds the contract with the demonic entity in the sewers," Ozra answered sweetly.


    "And if she loses?" Maya asked from beside the table, arms crossed, positioning herself so she could see both the Arch-fiend and his second without having to glance between them.


    "An admission of victory would be enough." The side of Ozra''s mouth quirked as he replaced the queen piece on the board, long-nailed finger tapping against its crown. "And the allowance to pat her forehead in a disparaging manner."


    "Why?" Annette asked, not quite masking the growl in her throat.


    "Because I derive a great deal of enjoyment reminding small, insignificant beings exactly how small and insignificant they are."


    My little sister bristled. For a moment, I thought she might bite. Then Maya leaned down and whispered in her ear. It was impossible to make out from where I stood, but I watched as Annette''s irritation slowly faded away to nothing. As Maya backed away, Annette steepled her fingers and spoke. "My intercessor has advised me to abstain on the account that physical contact may allow you to better evaluate my potential worth. As Vogrin himself used a similar method to glean insights into my soul, I have to agree¡ª"


    "¡ªStrike the spoken agreement from the record," Maya cut in vehemently.


    Quill slashed parchment, as Loria¡ªstill lounging in the oversized chair behind the desk¡ªflicked her wrist, floating pen making the annotation before it returned to its original place, levitating at the most recent line of text. Once that was done, she rested her chin on her fist and returned to glowering at me, clearly bored with the proceedings.


    "I cannot take this wager," Annette clarified, keeping the statement simple.


    "Very well." Ozra rolled his eyes.


    "However..." Annette started, scanning the pieces. If nothing else they were elaborate, the red transparent crimson, as if carved from ruby, the white opaque and reflective like ivory. "This is an enticing set."


    "Isn''t it?" Ozra kicked back, recalling a memory. "Won it off a hellhound thane a few centuries back. No idea where he found it¡ªNever been much for crafting or artistry, the hellhounds, so he must have taken it off a corpse at some point. Yet, despite searching, I''ve never seen the like."


    "What was the wager then?" Annette asked. "With the hellhound?"


    "Discendente," Annette murmured, completely transfixed, barely paying attention to her opponent.


    "Don''t be childish. There''s hardly five moves left. Let alone an avenue for victory." The arch-fiend protested, double-checking his side of the board before his gaze landed on one of her pieces near the back. "Promote that foot-soldier to whatever you like. None of your captured pieces are capable of completing the coup. Nothing short of a queen would make a difference."


    "How long has it been since you played with a mortal, my lord?" Annette asked, suppressing a smile.


    "I dabble, when time permits."


    "At least two centuries. Am I wrong?"


    Ozra squinted uncertainly. "That is... extremely precise. I''m rather curious how you worked it out."


    "My first clue was the lack of spare pieces. Not enough to be certain, of course. Perhaps you held them separately, intending to produce them out of thin air as a parlor trick. I varied my strategy for further confirmation, mixing new and old. Against the old lines¡ªparticularly Luecippus'', Rizon''s, and Iolla''s¡ªyou responded perfectly, instinctually playing the best possible moves. You answered the newer lines perfectly as well, but there was the briefest hesitation, as if you hadn''t seen them before." Annette pulled the silk tie out of her hair, allowing her brown curls to spill down her back as she relaxed. "The rules have changed little over the last millennia, when they were first modernized. Only minor adjustments and clarifications... with a one major exception. A few centuries ago, you would have been right. A foot soldier could only be promoted to a captured piece. There could only ever be three priests, four knights, and of course, a sole queen." Annette''s eyes twinkled with glee. "A certain Panthanian ruler with the proclivity for collecting wives took issue with this. His logic, while rooted in vanity, was ultimately sound. If one could achieve the arduous task of marching a foot soldier across the entire board, they should be able to promote the lesser piece to whatever they like. And while most scholars of the game did not share the ruler''s resistance to monogamy, they appreciated the potentially boundless new strategies this small adjustment brought to the game itself. Panthanian Koss grew in popularity, rivaling Koss itself until the adjustment was universally adapted."


    Slowly, Ozra''s gaze panned down to the board, reevaluating his position as he processed the new information. Disappointment dawned as he sat back, scooping up his king from the tile and clenching it in his fist. "Loria?"


    "Conversing with the natatorium now." Loria''s head tilted, as she listened to something only she could hear. "They''re confirming. The princess is correct."


    "And it''s as universal as she claims?"


    "Yes."


    The arch fiend rolled the king between his fingers. "You called discendente at four moves to conquest, rather than the requisite five."


    "I was not yet certain of my victory," Annette admitted.


    "Even if you were, the foot soldier was already too close to intersect. It wouldn''t have mattered. Take the victory, and the board." Ozra extended the king piece out towards Annette, then stopped, closing his hand before she could reach for it, something lighting in his eyes. "Unless... yes. The potential for multiple queens is not a small adjustment. It alters the trajectory of the endgame significantly. I am cunning, but cunning only goes so far when applied to a game one has never played. A rematch could be anyone''s game."


    "But what will we wager?" Annette asked. Her voice, while still guarded, was warmer now. The match had changed the dynamic between them, perhaps imparting a sense of mutual respect.


    "There are at least a few artifacts lying around that might draw your fancy, any of which I''d happily put on the line to get that board back," Ozra panned the room, "Plenty of books mortals have never laid hands on that would certainly be of interest to a young academic. Barring that, Rizon himself is gallivanting around in the lower reaches of the second circle, somewhere. I could summon him, but he¡¯s... well... he probably wouldn''t be what you''d expect."


    "So the rumors about him..."


    "Oh yes. Arguably worse. Terrible company. To be frank, even his screaming is unpleasant."


    "A tragedy. As tempting as all those possibilities are, we could return to the first wager." Annette mused, watching his reaction closely. To my utter shock, instead of immediately buying in, Ozra instead seemed immediately uncomfortable with the proposition. "I''ll even throw in the board."


    "Princess¡ª" Maya began to interject, but Annette threw up a hand and silenced her.


    "The intercessor is correct," Ozra quickly agreed. "There''s no need to revisit stakes we''ve already agreed to discard."


    "Because for the first time in as long as you can remember, the odds do not favor you?" My sister challenged, staring down the arch-fiend.


    The scratching pen suddenly halted, leaving burgeoning silence as Ozra rose to his full height, full of barely restrained anger and an imposing stare. "Such pride, born from a triumph of technicality. Very well. State your wager for the record then. If that is what you wish."


    "It wasn''t four."


    "What?"


    "There weren''t four moves left until discendente. There were five." Annette reached out, hem of her sleeve sliding along the table until her fingers pressed against the side of the Koss board. Wood gave way with an audible click as she pressed her thumb against the surface.


    A compartment snapped open.

 Chapter 230: Fracture XXXV

    The room darkened, candles and torches struggling against the nearly imperceptible billow of black smoke. Ozra''s face was inscrutable. Ancient, even. Utterly devoid of the casual sort of friendliness that had possessed him mere moments ago. It occurred to me, even as I sensed the growing tension and took a step forward, that this was much closer to the way he''d appeared when I''d first approached him, in the hells.


    As I''d suspected, the previous cheery, almost warm affectation was little more than a persona he''d adopted, tailoring himself to someone he expected to be more susceptible to affability and charm.


    From the way Maya bristled, and she pressed in closer beside my sister, she''d noticed, too.


    Between them, a small compartment extended out of the board, muddy burgundy silk housing an additional queen and several other spare pieces. The significance of this only registered belatedly, when I reviewed what Ozra had claimed. Before the uniform shift to the panthanian rule set, there''d be no need for additional pieces, nor the compartment to house them.


    "Did you know from the start?" Ozra asked, his voice dead, entirely impassive. But there was a blade hidden within it.


    If this all went sideways and the arch-fiend lashed out, Maya was quick on her feet. She''d yank Annette out of the way of any immediate danger. But I needed to be ready to put myself in between them if it came to that. I''d told myself that Ozra wouldn''t do anything to jeopardize our existing deal, but I''d never seen him lose. In my limited experience, the older a divine or demonic being was, the worse they handled being bested. And if Annette misread the room? Mocked him?


    It could go bad fast.


    My little sister shook her head, completely focused on reversing the pieces turn by turn, reviewing the game. "When you gave me the choice between white and red, I turned the board. There was something loose. A jostle, or click. Nothing telling, but I was advised to question everything. So I noted it and moved on. Then I noticed how archaic your play-style was, and the narrative formed, along with more questions."


    Annette reversed a series of aggressive captures, the side of her mouth quirking upward. "I quite enjoyed this exchange. The sudden upsurge of violence and offensive action after endless positioning. It surprised me. I took you as a defensive player to this point. Was it only because you were playing red?"


    Ozra frowned a little, crossed to her side of the board, not even seeming to notice as Maya and I tensed at his proximity. "I prefer not to press an attack until mid-game. Once I''ve gotten a better feel for my opponent''s weaknesses." He flicked a white cavalry piece''s head hard enough to make it wobble, but not topple completely. "Even if they are constantly taunting me with a hanging piece, over and over again."


    "Oh, it wasn''t hanging," Annette corrected, reversing the board to an earlier position, demonstrating how if Ozra took the cavalry piece, the capturing piece would be claimed in a complex series of moves, resulting in a neutral outcome.


    "Ah-hah." He leaned up triumphantly, staring at the possible outcome, slightly puzzled. "Nasty. So it was bait. But even if I''d taken it, it wouldn''t have helped you much."


    "That''s the nature of Illox''s gambit," Annette agreed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, seeming to either not notice or care how close he was. "A method of testing your opponent''s willingness to weaken their overall board position for the appearance of an early capture. You avoided it so studiously I figured you were aware of the tactic, maybe even played with him. He died..." She paused to think. "Five hundred years ago? So it was possible."


    Ozra snorted. "He''s not one of ours. Somehow I missed that one."


    "He wasn''t well known. Still. Avoiding it out of instinct alone is something else entirely." Annette whistled, then paused, hesitantly. "May I... continue to review the game? I''ve never played its like, and I wish to commit it to memory."


    Ozra seemed ready to dismiss that immediately, but something on the board caught his interest. "Do as you please."


    My sister continued working her way through the game, making comments here and there. When I''d watched her do this with students, the children of nobles who came to the castle to learn the game at their parent''s behest, she tended to be direct, almost brutal at times, bored with reviewing the same sort of mistakes over and over. With Ozra, however, she was earnest. Excited to review what they had created together. She marveled at his intellect and praised his cunning.


    Slowly, Ozra softened.


    After reversing all the way to the beginning, she rearranged the pieces and took a few off the board, placing them back to a position that occurred shortly after endgame. "I showed you my throat, here, opening myself up to attack. If you''d capitalized on the opportunity, you would have won. But you did not. Why?"


    "Because this," Ozra slid a priest into the center of Annette''s formation, forking several pieces. "Would have been considered a foolish move during the era of Koss where foot soldiers could not be promoted."


    "Of course." Annette realized, sucking in a breath. "I thought you were going easy on me, because the bet was low-stakes."


    "I would not taunt a master with a dull blade," Ozra rolled his eyes.


    "Still, the commitment to simply ignore it was... extraordinary. Truly."


    Behind them, still pen-in-hand at the desk, Loria looked less than pleased with the courteous turn of events. Her seemingly mindless visage had slipped, revealing the cunning beneath, and her pen had stilled. It could have been an act like before, but I doubted it. And unless I missed my guess, she was about to do whatever she could to return Ozra''s attention to the greater matter at hand.


    Feeling that the immediate danger had passed, I stepped away from the table and strode towards her, hands clasped behind my back. The demon had already begun to stand and awkwardly paused, torn between interfering with what was derailing the negotiation and addressing her earlier curiosity. Eventually she relented, rising to her feet but staying motionless as I approached.


    "Can I help you, Prince of Whitefall?" She asked, eyebrow raising as I walked beyond the desk and leaned against it on her side, casually crossing my legs.


    I smiled, letting practiced charm and charisma take over. "Call me Cairn. Our forces are aligned, no need to stand on formality. Don''t you agree, Loria?" I rolled the R, letting the A play across my tongue the same way a person might if they were pronouncing her name in demonic.


    She studied me, unimpressed. "What is it you want?"


    "Insight." I leaned towards her, blatantly taking her in before my eyes flicked to the desk. "But I''ll settle for a quick study of the transcript."


    "Ah. Well. Ordinarily, the answer would be no. But it''s not as if there''s any headway being made." Loria cast an annoyed glance towards the stalled negotiation, growing increasingly irate until she picked up the sheaf of papers and thumped them onto my lap.


    "Careful."


    "Apologies. Sometimes I forget the fragility of humans."


    "No, you don''t." The statement was flat, devoid of accusation, inviting interest. And I felt her eyes on me as I licked my thumb and paged through the transcript at a glacial rate. Like any demon with years under her belt, she was patient. But she was also proud. And if she intended to rise and interfere with the negotiation, she''d need to stand up and go around me, showing deference by default.


    So I sat there, like a fly in her ointment, until she spoke, curiosity breaking through behind her disinterested expression. "What sort of insights are you looking for?"


    I licked my thumb again and continued to leaf through pages, absorbing none of the text despite the show of deep study. "The mind of a sadist is a prescient topic, as of late. I''ve known many who rely on pain as a punitive tool. A trite method to inflict passivity on those likely to stray while serving as a warning to others who hold rebellion in their hearts. I''ve used that utility myself, on more than one occasion."


    "Have you really?" The demoness asked, her voice a mocking purr.


    "I''m not proud of it. But, yes." I carried on, ignoring the onslaught of horrible memories her tone dredged from the depths of my mind. "What''s a mystery to me¡ªand likely many¡ªare those who dole out pain that serves no purpose. Pain that may even work contrary to their own goals."


    It''d taken great losses, setbacks I was still reeling from, but Thoth''s weaknesses were beginning to show. She had a greater plan. That much was certain. Stabilizing the ley lines, building a great alliance to upend the cataclysm that threatened Ragnarok. But the longer I considered it, the more obvious it became that the way she tormented me served no purpose. If I eventually presented some sort of existential threat¡ªunlikely, considering the waste of space I¡¯d amounted to in my first life¡ªshe''d had ample opportunity to kill me. Instead, she''d effectively warned me by showing up at the carriage, and set in motion a chain of events that created more resistance, not less.


    The killing of Lillian only served to reinforce that impression.


    It felt petty. Sloppy. Not unlike a vice.


    Loria rested her chin on her palm, mulling the question coyly. "You''ve known many such monsters?"


    "Not many, no. Only two, including present company. So you understand why I''m so keen to seek enlightenment on the matter."


    "And this has nothing to do with distracting me from interfering with that pointless farce?" She raised an eyebrow, inclining her head towards the negotiation table.


    I smiled, caught out, a little chagrinned. "An efficient course of action accomplishes multiple goals in tandem."


    "As I thought." Loria''s chair squeaked as the legs of her secretarial chair scraped against the wooden floor and she rose, preparing to call out to Ozra.


    I needed to interrupt, keep her focus on me.


    "Why do you prefer the strap?" I asked suddenly, feeling a small surge of victory as the words died in her throat and she slowly turned back to me.


    "What''s wrong with a good piece of leather?" Loria challenged, almost as if she expected criticism.


    "It''s difficult to put into words." I thought about it, dug deep. "You obviously excel at what you do. Your efforts secured a high station in your legion. Ozra trusts you, and he isn''t slow to allocate resources. It''s common knowledge that demons hold a bounty of exquisite weapons and magical artifacts in their hoards, so it''s not as if your options are limited. So I can only posit that it is your preference, and subsequently wonder... why?"


    While I''d spoken, Loria grew increasingly perplexed, gaze drawn to my jaw and throat. "Tilt your head, Princeling."


    I did as she asked, forcing the small smile to remain on my lips even as her icy fingers prodded at my neck, like a physician testing for growth. Eventually, she seemed to ascertain some truth and dropped her arm.


    "Not one of mine. I''ve never touched you," she finally announced, puzzled at the conclusion.


    I suppressed a shudder. "You placed that mockery of a crown on my head."


    After a moment, she shook her head. "That is not the same. As far as I''m aware, this is our first meeting. Despite that, you seem to know me very well. Methods, preferences. Fear."


    "Really? I think I''m holding up well," I joked.


    "When I gave a command, you did not ask why. Regardless of what I am, you complied easily, gracefully. And you did not flinch. The response of a spectator would naturally be to pull away. Instead, you reacted with the exact response I instill in those I touch." Loria studied me, her expression turning dark. "It would be distressing to many in my Legion, if it was discovered the memories of a high-ranking demon were altered through treachery."


    /////


    I shuffled back to my side as Loria rejoined Ozra. Ironically, it was only the supporting members of the negotiation that were less than pleased with the current exchange, while Ozra and Annette seemed to be having the time of their lives.


    "¡ªWouldn''t that be wasted material?" Annette mused, examining the positions on the Koss board slowly.


    "Seems that way, doesn''t it?" Ozra grinned. "But if your opponent plays the rest of the game out following the Ardonacci variation¡ª"


    "¡ªwhich would be the natural choice, given the out-of-place cavalry¡ª"


    He played the sequence in a whirlwind, maneuvering pieces from both sides, ending in three aggressive captures for the red pieces that took the initial loss. "Then you recoup that material, and more, here, here, and here."


    Annette, my typically stoic little sister, clapped emphatically, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "And spring a beautiful, elegant trap. Marvelous."


    I walked behind them, sparing a quick glance for the ever-changing board as I slid in beside Maya. "They''ve been like this the whole time?"


    "No. They''ve been alternating between chess and negotiations." Maya replied, seemingly more annoyed than I''d ever seen her. "And the princess has made some concessions I don''t agree with."


    "Like?"


    "Nothing that poses an immediate problem now. Whether they do later, is yet to be seen. Were you flirting with a demon?" Maya asked indifferently, the source of her irritation suddenly apparent.


    "Uh¡ª" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Loria raise her palm and rotate it side to side. "When one is negotiating, it is only proper to speak the language of the party being approached. In this case, allure and¡ª"


    "¡ªSeduction." Maya finished, refusing to make eye-contact. "Don''t bother explaining the usefulness of charm to a trained diplomat. I''m well aware of the benefits."


    My cheeks burned. "We were just talking."


    "No. You were doing what you always do when you''re trying to make yourself enticing."


    I scoffed. "That being?"


    She made a vague gesture. "When you place yourself slightly in their space, cross your arms, and smolder. It''s very effective."


    "Alright. Fine." My eyes narrowed. "And what do you mean, you''re well aware of the benefits?"


    "I''m pleasing to the eye. You think your father simply invited me into his war tent on the merits of my story and position? No. Naturally, I charmed him." Maya said matter-of-factly.


    "Great." I wrinkled my nose, banishing all the unpleasant thoughts that conjured. "We''ve established that we possess the same tools and are equally capable of using them. Therefore, no one is at fault and there''s no reason for us to be upset with each other."


    "Indeed," she said flatly.


    "There''s only one thing we disagree on."


    "That being?" Maya looked towards me for the first time, her light eyes a silent challenge.


    I crossed my arms. "You''re so much more than simply pleasing to the eye."


    "Oh." Her violet cheeks tinged dark blue, and she looked away. The silence that followed was so long, I thought that was the end of it until she finally spoke again. "My mind has been clouded as of late."


    "Can I help?"


    She hesitated. "That... line of inquiry we began the other night?"


    My mind went to our discussion in our rooms. The baring of souls over the wine we shared. How honest and vulnerable she was, and while there was a definite temptation to take things further, her openness had ultimately stayed my hand. Because, above all else, I didn''t want to hurt her.


    "Does it upset you?" I asked, apprehensively.


    "No. The opposite. But it is at least partially to blame for this fog that plagues me, because we did not finish it." She turned to me meaningfully. "So, as soon as possible. I''d like to see it through."


    Oh.


    I smiled a bit. "There''s a lot to unpack. We''d need to set aside an appropriate amount of time. Make sure no detail is missed."


    "At least a day," Maya agreed, breathing out.


    "Barring disaster, tomorrow, perhaps?"


    She jolted slightly, showing the slightest hint of nerves. "That is... rather sudden."


    "You did say ''as soon as possible.'' After we deal with the imminent threat, I was already planning to steal you away. Show some overdue appreciation before the next inevitable problem crops up. If that''s how you''d like to spend that time, I''m happy to oblige. But if it''s better to wait¡ª"


    "No!" Maya exclaimed a little too loudly, clenched a fist, and released it. "No." She repeated quietly. "I want to finish our... conversation... so badly it aches. Sometimes it''s all I can think about. My dreams are tormenting. Little things irritate me that typically would not even register. All of which create obstacles that make it more difficult to properly play my role. But as much as it kills me to say, we should not make plans for tomorrow. The chance we''ll need to deal with some aftermath from today is simply too likely."


    I suppressed the twinge of disappointment. She was right, of course. The wild spontaneity I''d lived by in my first life was mostly gone, harshly reined in, even when it tempted me most. But something about Maya brought out that side of me, when little else did.


    Maya steepled her hands, studying her fingertips. "Maybe... the day after, we can travel somewhere less than a day''s ride from the capital and return by nightfall?"


    "Kholis perhaps?" I suggested immediately, taking to the idea.


    She started. "It doesn''t hold too many bad memories?"


    "Some." I admitted, recalling the harrowing loop that ended with the death of the rangers, and the close encounter with Thoth. But most of that occurred outside the city limits. The interior I remembered much more kindly. Introducing her to salted treats from the market. Our first dance, frantic and unromantic as it was. "But it''s quiet, and they''re accustomed to visitors from the city. Plus, they like you. You rescued their current Duke from the clutches of an evil revenant. It should be friendlier than most human settlements nearby."


    "You''ll have to tell the Duke," Maya observed.


    "If I do that, he''ll want to come along."


    "And he''ll be furious if he discovers we revisited his home without him." She chuckled. "You forget, I took care of Lucius long before you stumbled into Barion''s cabin. As a boy, he was both intuitive and discreet, and from what I''ve heard, he hasn''t changed. He''ll grant us our time."


    I blew air into my cheeks, then shook my head. "Between the travel and the escort, that doesn''t work for me."


    "Oh." Maya said, immediately disappointed.


    "I mean the two of you have a close bond. It''d be unreasonable to demand that the Duke host us and blow him off for the duration. You''ll need to catch up, and that could take hours. No. We''ll need at least two additional days to ensure we appease the duke, and thoroughly cover the topic of discussion."


    Maya put a hand to her mouth, covering a smile. "There''s wisdom in that. I''ll need to make some preparations for a longer absence, but they shouldn''t take long. So. Three days in Kholis, then."


    I nodded.


    Across the negotiation table, an increasingly displeased Loria leaned over to whisper something in Ozra''s ear, finally interrupting the overlong Koss session.


    Ozra shrugged, offering Annette a chagrined smile as he turned back to her. "As delightful as this has been, we''ve drifted off-topic. Shall we review the terms of our arrangement before you sign, so my associate and yours can stop glaring daggers into the backs of our heads?"


    "I''m ready," Annette agreed.


    With little fanfare, Ozra clapped his hands, fishing a monocle from his chest pocket as the contract appeared beneath a fading cloud of smoke, along with a pen and quill. I scanned the terms.


    And my stomach dropped.

 Chapter 231: Fracture XXXVI

    Beyond the immediate object of horror, the contract itself was strange. Less cold-blooded and stringent than mine by an order of magnitude, filled with little additions and considerations that prioritized Annette''s wellness and care. All of which would have been at the very least suspicious, if the section that kept drawing my eye back, over and over, didn''t spell out the intention clear as day.


    Pursuant to verbal deliberations, Princess Annette, of House Valen, cedes exclusive courtship rights to the Fiendish Consortium. The princess will attend no outside suitors nor uphold formal or informal courtship with any person or persons outside the consortium.


    "You... let this go through?" I breathed, a black rage billowing up from within me as the pang of betrayal grew too great to ignore. Confronting Loria, facing down a woman who had¡ªunknowingly¡ªdone catastrophic damage to my psyche, was supposed to buy Annette and Maya enough time to work Ozra and prevent something like this from happening.


    "It was not¡ª" Annette began, before Maya cut her off.


    "¡ªNo." Maya shook her head, looking between Ozra and Annette in quiet frustration. "In fact, I spent a great deal of time pushing back against it, but the princess would not yield. So my time was spent ensuring the terms favored her."


    "I¡ª" Annette''s mouth closed, opened again. "I thought we were in accord."


    "Then you were not listening to my many, many warnings." Maya snapped at her flatly. "Nor my attempts to pivot the focus of the proceedings."


    "Enough." The growing surge of frustration that always accompanied the realization I''d need to trigger a reset flooded in, clouding my thoughts. It was right there, written in Ozra and Loria''s gloating faces. They''d won this bout.


    But they would not win the next.


    Until the moment the contract was signed, there was still room to maneuver. I funneled mana into the inscription pathways in my chest that would stop my heart, staring directly into Ozra''s smug expression. He probably thought he''d played this well, capitalizing on my distraction with Loria to force through a deal I''d never approve of.


    How I so desperately wished to see that smug smile falter as I dropped dead to the floor, reality bending back on itself as all of his clever maneuvering was undone.


    Another item on the contract stood out to me, as I continued to work up the nerve. I scoffed at it. "Koss games every fortnight? With him? Really. Did you take nothing I said to heart?"


    "If you both would be so inclined, we''ll need a moment to discuss this among ourselves," Maya said matter-of-factly, directing her comment to the demons. Ozra and Loria took their leave, casually conferring in low voices in the corner near the secretarial desk as I continued to pore over the contract, growing more and more dismayed with the contents.


    "I did not cede my soul," Annette countered, but her typically cold delivery lacked confidence.


    "That''s hardly a victory when, instead, you''ve given him access." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "With no endpoint, making matters worse. From now until the day you meet your end, you''ve given him time to get to know you, build rapport, to slowly whittle down your resolve and wait for circumstances to align until the fateful evening trading a soul suddenly sounds reasonable. Equitable, even."


    Annette looked away. "That evening will never come. The fact remains that a good opponent is hard to find. I''ve learned more about strategy and tactics in the last half hour than I have over years. Lessons that apply to far more than a game of wits¡ª"


    "¡ªYou have countless tutors¡ª"


    "¡ªWe stand to gain far more than we lose!" Annette stood, knocking over her chair, fists clenched in fury. "There is danger, yes. Risk. But there is always something at stake in matters of power. A reality you seem more than comfortable embracing when it is your life being wagered, and only averse to when the same logic is applied by those you care for." Her voice crescendoed, eyes glimmering with fury and something else. "Why are you alone allowed to suffer for the sake of peace? Why does it have to be you and only you?"


    Because that is my purpose. The reason for this gift. To shield the innocent. And I''ve failed that duty enough, as of late.


    I spoke, as evenly as I could. "What could possibly be worth putting your soul at risk? Beyond that, your more immediate wellbeing?" I extended a hand towards Maya and let it drop. "Not long after we met, Maya formed a generational contract with a demon. At the time I was confused by the many parameters and seemingly paranoid fail-safes she enacted, going to great lengths to ensure that demon could never escape its contract. When I asked, she said something I found strange, given the recent overcoming of differences: ''All demons are evil, without exception.'' Yet to this day, I have not seen a single shred of evidence that she is wrong. If anything, she undersold the depths of their depravity."


    "As unhappy as I am with this turn of events," Maya hedged, "it''s probably the best we could hope for. Perhaps better. It invites restriction without compunction. Annette cannot marry outside the fiendish consortium, but she is not compelled to marry within it or take any action beyond occasionally entertaining suitors, something she already does."


    "Suitors far older and craftier than those already foisted upon her," I argued.


    Ozra''s voice carried across the room with an undercurrent of mirth. "Intercessor, if you''d draw the Prince''s attention to page twelve, subsection three¡ª"


    A question struck me. Something that I''d never asked her, because the answer seemed inherently obvious. But perhaps, it wasn''t. "Do you... not want children, Annette?"


    She shuddered. "I''ve always found the concept of a life growing within me disquieting. Mother told me, once, I would eventually outgrow that reticence. But as the years have passed and I''ve learned more of the particulars, it''s become more horrifying, not less. Beyond the physical unpleasantness and mortal danger, something within me... sickens at the thought. And while I cannot define where it stems from, or why, I can say, definitively, that I don''t want it. And likely never will." She cast a look at the contract, still in Maya''s hands. "Even if I marry within the consortium, there''s no expectation to produce an heir. Simply to learn, advance my abilities, and teach them to others. Barring this opportunity, perhaps, if I was a commoner, I could one day find a partner who felt similarly to me. But I am not a commoner. And there is simply no hope of finding such an arrangement in a royal match. They will all seek to advance their bloodline. Without exception. This is the best option. The best I''ve ever had."


    I breathed out slowly. It was difficult to grasp because our experiences had been so different. Unlike Annette, from a young age, I''d often fantasized about building a happy family. Likely because it''d been denied to me, I''d elevated the idea, listening to my mother''s storybook tales that often enshrined a core romance between hero and maiden, latching onto the idea of being a better father than the one I had. But the longer I thought about it, the more Annette''s behavior over my previous life clicked into place. Throughout her teenage years, she''d been notoriously brutal to her suitors, even the rare few I''d considered decent. To the point it''d caused a diplomatic incident more than once. Which looking back, was odd, seeing how politically savvy she was in every other regard.


    The Queen had it wrong. It wasn''t some childish reservation Annette would grow out of. It was part of who she was. And just because it didn''t conform to my expectations, or our parents'', or anyone else''s, didn''t make it any less valid.


    I put my hand on her head as she cringed, waiting for my response. "The expectations placed on us were different from the beginning. I can''t know your mind, or your desires. And I''ll be honest, it''s difficult to relate. But if you''re confident this is what you want, and you''re not doing it simply for the benefit an alliance with another legion would yield or because you want answers, well, that''s good enough for me. I''ll make sure no one stands in your way."


    My sister smiled a little. "And the debt grows larger. I promise I''ll pay it back someday."


    "None of that. You''re the one taking the risk here." I forced myself to return the smile, leaving it fixed as I addressed Maya. "There''ve been steps taken to ensure the suitors behave themselves?"


    "Oh, yes." Maya leafed through the contract, brow furrowing. "We spent a great deal of time on that. She can expel them at will, and they will be automatically and decisively ejected if they attempt to sidestep any term." She squinted, reviewing the list one last time before coming away satisfied. "It''s thorough."


    I took the contract from her and read through the entire thing again, more open-minded than I''d been the first time. As Maya attested, it was thorough in its protections of Annette, and consistent in maintaining her agency. It was also petty in a manner I found amusing, insisting that any potential suitor achieve high marks from a human tutor in etiquette, complete with a required reading list comprising no less than twenty books, at least a few of which I knew to be tomes.


    Otherwise, the fact that Ozra intentionally excluded any princes from the Asmodial legion from the list of potential suitors gave me pause. It worked to our purposes, of course; the possibility of another demonic legion at our beck and call was a considerable force multiplier. It could be merely self-serving, concern over boosting favorable demonic princes within his own legion to heightened power and popularity to the point they might eventually challenge him for his position as arch-fiend. But his confidence, and the way he''d set himself up as an intermediary between Annette, as well as the monthly Koss meeting where he would, undoubtedly, try to influence her opinion, all gave the sense of a much bigger game being played here. I had no doubts the suitors along with the legions they hailed from would be handpicked by Ozra personally, and if Annette made a selection, that prince''s legion would owe the arch-fiend far more than mere tribute.


    If this arch-fiend was going to continue meddling in my affairs, I needed to at least gain a sense of his.


    For my sister''s sake, as well as my own.


    The signing was a somber affair. Neither our side nor theirs seemed to want to risk saying anything that would prompt yet another revision. As my sister dipped quill in ink, my sense of nervousness and unease only grew. I hadn''t let the mana go. It wasn''t too late to end this here, try again another day.


    This is the best option. The best I''ve ever had.


    My brief hesitation was all it took for Annette to sign her name in impeccable penmanship at the bottom of the contract. Ozra took it from her gently, handing it off to Loria, who rolled it up and sealed it with wax, then snapped her fingers. The contract vanished in a cloud of smoke.


    "Well argued my dear. And well negotiated." Ozra grinned, giving off the impression of a man who had eaten more than his fill. "Now, we both have some initial steps to take, do we not?"


    "Yes." Annette agreed, steeling herself. "You''re going to examine my soul."


    "And if possible, grant a degree of understanding over where that pesky fear comes from." Ozra''s smile ebbed. "Typically, I would let a mortal walk face first into something along these lines without warning. Better reactions that way. But as we appear to have found something of a kindred spirit in each other, I''ll grant you this." He leaned forward, his expression serious. "Whatever the truth, it will not be pleasant. Few things in my realm or yours can cause the sort of extensive damage to a soul that Vogrin reported. None of them are kind. And there''s a certain... disturbance that comes with learning how one met their end in a previous life."


    "It doesn''t matter." Annette leaned forward to match him, her mouth tight, struggling with momentary indecision. "If my mettle breaks, you''ll pass on whatever information you can about the demon in the sewer to my brother?"


    "As outlined in the contract." Ozra agreed, all flattery and admiration. "Whatever he believes, I''m as invested in his survival as yours."


    "Then do it." Annette commanded.


    And braced, as Ozra''s fingertips brushed her forehead.

 Chapter 232: Fracture XXXVII

    The sconces slowly died, a circular curtain of shadow falling around us. Only the table and its inhabitants remained visible, the light blue glow that illuminated them seemingly sourceless and ethereal, save scant ripples traveling the light like reflections off a pool. Annette''s eyes were closed, and while she initially appeared stoic, her fists were clenched beneath the table. Ozra''s hand remained fixed on her forehead, his face a mask of excitement and greed, not unlike a surveyor seeking the final valuation of some long-fabled treasure he''d finally secured.


    But as the minutes passed, that excitement faded. His mouth pulled down in a frown, puzzlement playing across his lips, as if he couldn''t quite process what he was seeing.


    Then the puzzlement turned to rage.


    "Who fucking did this?" He barked, startling Annette out of her trance, though he did not move his hand.


    Vogrin materialized from the shadows, coming forward at his side. "The same question that has dominated my free hours as of late. I hoped you''d have better luck than me."


    "If this is memory alteration, it''s flawless." Ozra''s voice was completely impassive, an odd contrast to his enraged expression. "You''d think an individual capable of such inventive savagery would find something more meaningful to do with it than tormenting a child."


    Ozra taking issue with cruelty to mortal children immediately struck me as odd. The Azmodial legion, acting on Ozra''s direct orders, slaughtered men, women, and children indiscriminately. I''d had that reality drilled into me over and over during the attacks on the Enclave. In any other situation I''d assume it was performative, and that Ozra was merely playing a part that made him appear more sympathetic to Annette. But the anger smoldering beneath the surface was very real. The only real possibility left was that he somehow considered what my sister had endured different from his own brand of depravity.


    "There''s the suppression to consider." Vogrin scratched his chin. "It''s clear enough to state definitively. Princess Annette''s mana development has been directly stunted through repeated applications of void. Both independently happening to the same person seems astronomically unlikely, but I hesitate to draw a direct connection."


    "Why?" Maya barked. "Stop talking in riddles and share your insights, per our agreement."


    "Because there''s an obvious difference in skill," Ozra answered, the fact that he hadn''t risen to the provocation evident of how unsettled he was. "From the traces that remain, whoever they were, the void practitioner was of decent skill. Covered their tracks well, applied an effective suppression while avoiding the usual pitfalls, and took measures to ensure the suppression did not damage the soul. A rather exceptional application, though not flawless. Well within the capabilities of a dedicated mortal." His face twisted. "However, if memory alteration occurred¡ªand barring something else at play¡ªthe application is masterful. Perfect, in a way that magic rarely is."


    Vogrin nodded along. "I agree that the manipulation could not have been managed by a human practitioner. During her tutelage, I kept watch over the princess''s mind." He shot an apologetic look towards me. "When there is meddling in something as volatile as memory¡ªa venture that almost always involves an artifact¡ªthere are inevitable cracks that appear, eventually. Wrinkles in the patchwork undetectable on initial survey but show themselves with time. Yet, despite monitoring her extensively, there are no signs."


    "Troubling." Ozra gently removed his hand from Annette''s head. "What''s Xaraxos doing these days?"


    "Still trolling the lower realms. We''d know if he returned."


    "...And Lycaon?" Ozra asked, merely voicing the question seemed enough to put his teeth on edge.


    "Imprisoned and bound. Not so much as a blip over the last millennia."


    "You confirmed this directly?"


    "It was the first place I went." Vogrin confirmed. "Tested his chains and the magic that bound him. Both, while ancient, are solid. Our predecessors fulfilled their obligations thoroughly. No evidence of tampering or decay."


    It occurred to me that I''d heard of Lycaon. Sparsely, as the name was entirely absent from any of the histories and demonic accounts I''d read, yet I''d heard it before. Kastramoth¡ªMaya''s summon that hailed from the Bloodhound legion¡ªoften slept poorly, barking and snarling. On waking, the churlish demon never seemed interested in offering any actual insight to what plagued him. But rarely, when the day was long and morning was still far from sight, when his mind straddled the divide between wake and sleep, his deep voice somehow frightened and small, he would murmur that Lycaon was nipping at his heels.


    It took a few repetitions to realize this wasn''t literal. I''d since heard it from other demons since, always invoked in the context of describing something abstract they found frightening. The same way mortals referred to the hells.


    "Who is Lycaon?" I asked.


    "A relic of no relevance or import." Ozra replied smoothly, a little too quick and dismissive to be convincing.


    "Yes." Vogrin agreed. "A stretch in reasoning that ended in a fruitless query."


    "Yet he registered." Maya glanced between Ozra and Vogrin. "Stuck in both your minds with enough import that Vogrin voluntarily left this realm and a valuable charge unguarded to verify his imprisonment." She crossed her arms. "I''d like to hear the answer as well." R????E?S


    "What happened to me?" Annette blurted out, startling all of us. She''d been quiet until now, but her patience had finally worn thin, and her blue eyes radiated with a mania that was unlike her.


    Ozra winced. "My reticence is not from spite, little princess. It is uncertainty as to the purpose¡ª"


    "For now, I don''t care what the purpose was." Annette swiped at her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling. "Or the grand implications, or who was responsible. That matters, and there will be all the time in the world for elaboration and theoreticals later. But you saw it. I felt it uncoil in my mind, like a spring. Something always there that I could only scratch at the protrusion of, never uncovering more, despite knowing full well it lurked beneath the surface."


    "The memories in question are fragments. Fragments from past lives that do not align with reality. What they depict cannot be possible. Which is why I''m hesitant to share something so volatile without seeking further context." Ozra said, completely even. It seemed that there was some veracity to his claim of fondness towards Annette. Because I recognized what he was doing. Shielding her from a hard truth by muddying the waters.


    I put a hand on her chair. "If what he''s saying is accurate, and knowing the truth will only bring you pain and more questions, are you sure you want to know?"


    "I do." Annette confirmed. "Even if it hurts me. I need to see it. To understand."


    There was an air of finality to it, and no one argued. Ozra grimaced, looking pinned in and unready to let it go. "It would be less distressing to simply relay the events in as much detail as I am able."


    Annette shook her head. "Let me see it, arch-fiend."


    "As you wish."


    The corner of the den peeled back as if stripped from reality, a torn-out page that left nothing but a white void. I instinctively reached out, towards where Annette''s chair had been, finding her shaking shoulder instead as my eyes still failed to find her. Unsure of what else to do, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her as the void took shape, the fading in surroundings intimately familiar.


    "It always begins this way." Ozra narrated, still perplexed beneath his perpetual calmness.


    Annette''s rooms, filled with odd trinkets and untouched toys. Her Koss board sat by the windowsill as it always did, in the middle of a game she''d likely started playing out long before the chaos started. Every piece of furniture she owned besides it was piled in front of the door, stacked on top of each other in a sort of makeshift barricade. Annette¡ªa more mature, older version of her that matched her appearance from the end of my first life¡ªwas sweating and disheveled as she tied sheets together in a panic, doing her level best not to look at the fire-razed city below, or the near constant smoke leaking in from the direction of the barricade, constantly seeping in beneath the crack in the door.


    "I''m older." Annette observed, and it took a second to connect it was the real Annette talking, rather than the memory. "But these are my rooms. My possessions. More to the point, I''m still me. Isn''t this supposed to be a past life?"


    "And therein lies the confusion." Ozra agreed, disembodied voice carrying over the din of distant battle. "Some of it, anyway. Reincarnation coincides within the progression of time. Some find their vessels almost immediately after death. Others remain in the afterlife for centuries before they return. But no matter when they return, it is always after. Yet it appears that every life you''ve lived, as far back as I can see¡ªwhich is considerable¡ªis an echo of this one.¡±


    "If I can offer a word of advice," Vogrin hedged, voice somewhere to the side. "Try to depersonalize anything you see. View this with the same lens you''d view the subject of an experiment."


    "Very well," Annette agreed, just as the Annette tying sheets together was startled by a knock at the door, and cocked her head. It was an odd occurrence, with the chaos and ongoing battle around the castle, that someone would bother to knock politely.


    The handle turned and the door collided with the barricade. Annette shrieked, stumbling away from the door until her back hit the wall.


    In a peculiar turn of events, the would-be invader immediately closed the door in response. Annette waited with bated breath, her chest heaving. Moments later, the knock sounded again, this time accompanied by a woman''s voice. "Princess? Are you in there?"


    "Announce yourself." Annette demanded, trembling, searching for anything nearby she could use as a weapon.


    "Apologies milady. The name''s Iraia of Sunhaven. You don''t know me, but I served your mother in the queen''s guard."


    "If that experience aided you in moving through the castle unseen, I''d say it matters quite a lot." Annette replied, turning to give the woman a quick smile.


    "Perhaps." Iraia said, crossing over to Annette''s side, gripping the sides of the raised tub with both hands as she leaned over to look. "These things always take too long to fill."


    "Do you have any injuries we need to treat before we leave?" Annette asked, monitoring the woman out of her peripheral.


    "Hmm? No. As you said, I''m unharmed."


    "What about your hand?" Annette asked, point blank.


    I reviewed the events and realized what Annette had keyed in on. To this point, Iraia had played the part almost flawlessly. As far as I could tell, the only mistake she''d made¡ªa misstep Annette had noticed against all odds¡ªwas when she closed the door. Residences within the palace had doors with metal handles. Iron cast in gold, a combination that ranged from frigid to scathing depending on the temperature. And with the castle in flames... it should have burned the hell out of her, and didn''t.


    "Now that I think about it." Slowly, discarding her desperate, well-meaning disposition, Thoth slid her glove off. Angry white and red flesh clung to the opening of the gauntlet like a cobweb, her palm scalded and bloody. "Bad enough to put ointment on?"


    "I¡ª"


    Thoth''s damaged hand shot forward, her long fingers clamping over Annette''s throat tightly. She chuckled, her voice laden with disappointment. "Oh Annette. Such a sad existence. Always so clever, yet never quite clever enough."


    My sister tried to say something, emitting guttural noises as her feet sought the floor.


    "Trying to say something?" Thoth cocked her head.


    Somehow, Annette managed to nod.


    Thoth considered it, demonstrating yet again, the sort of slow plodding cruelty I''d come to know her for. "Tell you what. You''re a smart girl. Pretend like we''ve lived out this exact moment countless times. Take stock of all the things you might say to make me change my mind. Quickly, before what little air you have loses purpose." She waited, until Annette tapped frantically at her arm, nodding. "I''m not done. Now take all those things you just thought of and throw them the fuck away. If you can come up with an original appeal, some angle you''ve never tried¡ªminding if we''ve done this countless times, you''ve tried many¡ªI''ll consider... letting you go. Fair?"


    Annette nodded again, face growing scarlet from the lack of air, legs beginning to buckle. Finally, Thoth released her, and my little sister stumbled back against the tub. My sister coughed and struggled to suck in air through her damaged windpipe.


    "Enough stalling. Speak." Thoth demanded.


    "There''s a nascent... monster... beneath Whitefall." Annette struggled to form the words. "Though I do not know its origin, I know its purpose. How it''s being used, who''s responsible, and why. If your intention is conquest, it will cause problems unless dealt with properly."


    "Oh." Thoth nodded along, vaguely interested. "Fascinating. Are you also aware of who suffers most thanks to this monster?"


    "Yes," Annette winced, horror overtaking her expression as she realized Thoth was already fully aware of whatever secrets she held.


    "I get the sense you''ve kept this information to yourself. An odd decision, given the number of innocents who fall prey to it, day over day. Were you ever going to do anything helpful with this information, or was the plan just to keep it to yourself as just another card?"


    "Of course I was." Annette snapped. "But this is bigger than me, and there are ears, everywhere. I needed to wait until a¡ª"


    The words died, as Thoth''s hand closed around my sister''s throat again. For a moment, she looked genuinely remorseful. "That was unnecessary, letting you go on for so long. Apologies. Just get a little caught up in the routine sometimes. Unfortunately, you have tried that before. Oh well."


    With the same sort of ambivalence one tosses a silver into a prayer well, Thoth pushed Annette back, and shoved her head beneath the water. Her tattered hand dyed the water a dull red as my sister struggled, scratching at her, gripping the sides, desperate to free herself.


    But Thoth was immovable.


    As much as I prayed for it to be over quickly, it wasn''t. The sloppiness of it¡ªallowing my sister''s head to breach the water, allowing a second''s breath before it was shoved back down again¡ªwas all methodically intentional. Still held tightly in my arms, I heard the real Annette whimper. "Is it... okay not to look now?"


    "You''ve been more than strong enough." I shielded her eyes with my hand.


    But I didn''t look away. Every second she struggled, I watched. The sound of the sloshing water echoed, etched somewhere deep within me. The way she laughed at my sister''s terror.


    The arch-fiend had been speaking for some time, actual words not reaching until sometime later. "...there are many variations. Certain details change¡ªthis is the only instance with any mention of a monster beneath Whitefall, for example."


    "That''s why you chose it?" Maya asked, her voice shaken.


    "In part." Ozra hesitated. "There were other considerations. The approach can be entirely different. But it always ends with the princess drowning."


    Somehow, I knew. As the vision faded, I moved my hands to my sister''s ears, blocking her hearing with the gentle resonance of wind. "This instance was tamer than the others."


    It had been a particularly cold night in the capital city.


    "It... was," Ozra agreed, surprised. "Not the observation I expected, but yes. How did you draw that conclusion?"


    "No real insight. Just, basic pattern recognition. Thoth''s nothing if not consistent." I turned in the direction of his voice, keeping my demeanor casual. "Say, Ozra. There''s a lot of variation, but it always ends with Annette drowning, right?"


    "That''s... mostly correct. It isn''t iron clad. If things don''t go to plan, the arch-mage isn''t above improvising or abandoning the ideal outcome entirely. But the method is important to her, that much is certain."


    Stoke the fire until it''s so hot you can barely stand it.


    "Is it always Thoth who drowns her?" I asked.


    A second later, Maya gasped.


    "Why does it matter?" Ozra asked, tone cagey enough that it practically answered for him.


    "Neither you nor Vogrin seem to believe the memory manipulation theory is possible. If so, through an avenue none of us understand, we might be viewing glimpses of a potential future. It goes without saying that having more information is better than less. So, humor me." I glanced down, though sight was still taken from me. "She can''t hear you."


    Ozra breathed a tired sigh. "The Arch-fiend most often handles the violence herself, though the circumstances vary greatly. She engages in the sort of push-pull you witnessed, sometimes allowing the princess to wholeheartedly believe she is about to be saved. Less commonly, she lets her underlings handle it." There was a long pause. "On occasion, she will trick someone outside her purview into doing it for her."


    That was all I needed to hear. Because, looking back, I''d already witnessed it firsthand.


    Burn away the grief until there''s nothing left.

 Chapter 233: Fracture XXXIX

    A flash of light and the scent of brimstone brought us back to the negotiation room. Somehow, the already gothic colors seemed more muted than before, almost desaturated. Maya''s lingering gaze never left me, confirming that she''d pieced together the same revelation I had.


    And she wasn''t the only one with unspoken questions.


    Ozra, Loria, and Vogrin all seemed unsettled by the revelation. It was obvious why¡ªtheir discomfort entirely too similar to mine when I''d first discovered the cycle of life and rebirth had been hijacked, warped into something far different from what I''d believed. Ozra, specifically, seemed overly suspicious, watching all three of us intently, waiting for some sort of explanation or tell.


    Slowly, my little sister''s sobbing subsided, the perpetual cringe faded, and she grew rigid in my arms. The only remaining indication she''d lost her nerve, as she removed my arms and stepped forward, was the glistening tear-streaks on her face.


    "I understand that something damaging was done to me, either through trickery or some other means. And now, thanks to your generosity, I understand the method¡ª" Her voice caught, and she held a fist to her mouth, holding it there and gathering her wits before she dropped it. "What I cannot comprehend, whether the perpetrator is Thoth herself using some travesty of magic, or someone else using her likeness to inflict terror on me, is why. Why would anyone do such a thing? Why to me specifically? I have no enemies. Both my brother and sister stand out more and have greater value to the kingdom. I''m insignificant in the grand scheme of things compared to them. I''m¡ª" She choked a little, then recovered. "I''m no one."


    Vogrin crossed his arms and turned towards Ozra, waiting for the arch-fiend''s permission. Reluctantly, Ozra slowly nodded. Vogrin cleared his throat and levitated forward, standing directly in front of Annette but addressing all three of us. "What I''m about to tell you is not common knowledge, even among demons. It is a relic of a more brutal, primitive time. There are aspects of it that are shameful. Some¡ªthe more fanciful and inventive among us¡ªbelieve the discovery and the transgressions that followed are the reason the fae realms were sundered, struck down through direct intervention from the gods."


    "Eventually repurposed into the hells." Maya''s jaw dropped, her voice shaken with awe. "I thought that was nothing more than a fairy tale. A story infernal parents used to help children overcome their fear of demons."


    "A misconception the conglomerate of disinformation has worked quite hard over the centuries to sustain." Vogrin grimaced, pausing to glance at each of us, imparting the emphasis. "We would not be speaking of this if the situation did not call for it. It has been so thoroughly obfuscated that even if you were to take leave from this meeting and rush back to the enclave and recount every detail to them directly, you would be laughed out of their chambers. Still, we would appreciate it if you did not."


    "That depends. If it''s truly ancient history with no bearing on the present, there''s no need to wag tongues. But I refuse to play the part of an infernal turncoat and hide demonic transgressions from my people."


    "I''d reconsider that." Vogrin challenged, head tilting towards Annette. "For her sake."


    "Vogrin¡ª" Ozra placed a hand on his forehead, as if warding off a headache. "They''re already aware, infernal. No secret survives the rigors of time. It either dies with a single person or spreads, with nothing in between."


    "Who knows?" Maya challenged.


    "A few individuals who hold power in the Enclave. Some in obvious places, others less." Ozra waved dismissively, hiding a smirk. "The truth is disclosed to a handful of such individuals, every generation, to ensure the balance of power remains in check."


    "And why would a people who so voraciously obsess over secrecy in even the smallest matters do such a thing?"


    "Did you hear that, Vogrin? She called us people."


    Vogrin grunted something that only passingly resembled amusement. Maya didn''t so much as blink.


    Still tickled by his own joke, Ozra continued. "If we don''t, history has a tendency to repeat itself. Infernals are curious by nature. Curious in all things, but especially in avenues of magic and matters of the soul. That''s why it''s important there are those in power capable of curtailing or redirecting certain areas of advancement and research." He paused, giving Maya a coy look. "If any doubt remains, I''d advise seeking Ralakos''s guidance on the matter. In person, of course."


    The namedrop had the desired effect. Planted a seed of doubt that defused reticence. Maya frowned, reluctantly accepting the suggestion. "Fine. I''ll keep anything discussed here to myself for now. But I will seek confirmation later."


    "See that you do." Ozra replied, unbothered.


    Vogrin took a long breath and began, addressing Annette. "We believe what has been done to you is a form of purposeful denouement. It should not be possible. But given what you are, and the state of your soul, it is the only explanation that makes sense."


    Annette''s forehead wrinkled as her brows drew together. "Denouement refers to... the end of something, does it not?"


    "There is some nuance lost in translation, but broadly, yes." Vogrin agreed. "We''ve briefly touched on the nature of souls in your tutoring. Do you remember what makes them different from every other source of power?"


    "Nature inherently expends its energy." Annette recited. "A tree will grow quickly at first and slow with age before it dies. An old man has a fraction of the energy of a child. Even the ley lines beneath our feet will eventually grow dim and fade, the mana they provide becoming fallow and resistant before it disappears entirely. The only exception is a soul." r?a????oBE?s?


    "Correct." Vogrin smiled, pleased. "A freshly created soul is unremarkable. Practically worthless. Their only noteworthy quality at the early stage is durability. It requires many reincarnations before the first blemishes and scars form, and more still before the disfigurement deepens into fissures and schisms capable of retaining fragments of the divine mana required for reincarnation. After the soul reaches this state, only then will the current incarnation be capable of wielding a single element."


    "That much is known," I realized, flashing back to a conversation I''d had with Ralakos what felt like lifetimes ago. "Or at least suspected."


    "The underlying thought is mostly the same." Vogrin pursed his lips, searching the tattered side pocket of his satchel until he fished out a ring, which he placed on his middle finger. "A theory that has persisted for eons, bearing countless names. Viewed purely as a philosophical concept it holds little issue. But when it''s taken to logical conclusion, well, that is when the sort of problems that undo creation begin to form."


    Vogrin squeezed his fist that bore the artifact at his side, then made a circular gesture in front of him. Shadows took shape in the form of humans¡ªonly differentiating themselves as they became more cohesive and colorful. Their skin was gray, hair white and pigmentless, similar to the eyes, which reminded me of an infernal''s. The illusion depicted a thoroughfare in a large, ethereal settlement washed in gold, silver, and light, the architecture so drastically different from ours that it was difficult to draw obvious connections.


    "There are not many reliable accounts regarding the Fae. What we can be certain of is that they were already advanced in matters of magic and science when most mortals in adjacent realms were still wearing loincloths, chasing prey with sharpened sticks. We know they were likely soulless. And like any being capable of intelligent thought, they coveted what they did not have."


    The image flickered and changed, showing one of the Fae approaching green, fearful-looking creatures that could have been precursors to goblins. The fae had altered its appearance to better match the goblins, though the hair, skin tone, and eyes remained the same.


    "To our ancestors'' credit, their first efforts were reasonable. The offers were pragmatic, fair, securing benefits for both sides. ''Lend me your soul and I''ll feed your clan for a decade. Grant it indefinitely, and you''ll know comforts that head you rest on a cave floor cannot possibly imagine.''"


    Maya cut in angrily. "They didn''t even have the capacity to understand what they were giving up. The concept of reincarnation didn''t exist yet."


    "Their problem. Not the Fae''s. Arguably, the prehistoric world they were ''stolen'' from offered little in comparison. Monsters present today, even those that reside in the deepest reaches of the sanctum, cannot hold so much as a dying candle to the true terrors that plagued the wilds. Mortals died quickly and in great numbers. The wheel of reincarnation took their souls from a brutal plane, and according to the gods'' arbitrary rules, spit them back out to die again. Comparatively, those who were elevated to the fae realm lived in bliss. They were given clothing, domiciles, entire domains where they were allowed to live out their lives and raise families, treasured and pampered like prize livestock that would never be slaughtered. In return, the Fae harnessed the divine mana housed in their souls, granting them what they could previously only simulate through painstaking effort and little return. The arcane."


    "How noble." Maya rolled her eyes. "Where did it all go wrong?"


    "Literacy." Vogrin grated. "There was always a chance of conflict before. But as the mortals'' grasp on the spoken word became more nuanced, and they developed written language, for the first time, information circulated. Stories of monsters in the guise of mortals who¡ªif you allowed them¡ªwould spirit away children and loved ones by force. Violence was commonplace and superstition ran rampant. Elevations became more arduous to secure. From what little we know, there were two schools of thought. The first argued for a slow of growth, limiting use of divine mana to what was maintainable with what The Fae already possessed until they worked out a solution to the new obstacles."


    "And the second was to dispense with the niceties and start taking them by force." I finished.


    "It was more contested than you''re probably willing to believe, but yes. That was the end result." Vogrin shrugged. "Their argument was that the result was the same. At that point the mortal realm was still a more hellish place to live than the Fae realm ever had been. Some of the great monsters were gone, but minor wars over territory and theism filled the gap just as quickly. Supposedly, even mortals taken against their will acclimated to the new environment quickly, most happy to concede their souls after a matter of days."


    "And those who weren''t?" Maya asked.


    Vogrin averted his gaze and continued. "With new strategies arrive new leaders to herald them. And in this shifting of tides, Lycaon rose to power."


    "Earlier, Ozra implied you visited Lycaon... do the Azmodials have an honest-to-god fae held captive?" I asked, having trouble even imagining it.


    "There are no fae left." Vogrin clarified. "Any who survived the sundering became demons. Punishment for their avarice. Not that it matters¡ªif the legends are to be believed, Lycaon''s preferred form was reportedly hellish from the beginning. If he had been released rather than blinded and forever imprisoned, he likely would have been the one Fae comfortable with the changes."


    The demon snapped his fingers, and a translucent wolf took shape, hulking and muscular, bound by thousands of interlocking chains that sheened with crimson, bulging around too-large shoulders and overgrown, unkempt fur. Countless fingers of all shapes and sizes gripped his neck tightly like a wreath of worms, forming a collar.


    I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling my surprise, disguising it as confusion. Vogrin''s conjured image gave a false impression of size. Made him appear not much larger than a dire wolf.


    But the true Lycaon was massive. As tall as a manor and nearly as wide, with a deep rumbling voice to match. In our many encounters I''d wondered of his nature. He''d never spoken to me in demonic, but something about his cadence implied the connection. He''d never done anything tangible enough to confirm it outright, but he''d never told me his name, either.


    My sister was precious.


    Given that, when he glanced over at me, I mouthed the only words I could reasonably say.


    "Thank you."


    "Bringing us back to Lycaon, just briefly." Maya put a comforting hand on Annette¡¯s back as she addressed Ozra. "I understand the purpose the chronal magic and sequestering the soul serve. What''s less clear is how the second taboo factors in. Abominations. We encountered them in the Sanctum, did we not?"


    Memories of fighting through adolescent infernals twisted beyond recognition over and over surfaced. Limbs twisted and split like branches of trees, gaping faces leering, wielding wild, tainted magic that made the very air crackle with the scent of burning flesh.


    "Not exactly," Ozra settled back into his usual smugness. "What you encountered were innate abominations, transformed by the tainted mana of a dying ley line. Formidable by pedestrian standards. But they pale in comparison to true abominations. The monsters Lycaon created to inflict his torment. Demons, before demons came to be."


    Maya rolled her eyes. "Do they have a name to go along with the reputation?"


    "They do. Though you would not know it." Ozra mused. "They are rarely spoken of. Most believe them gone, destroyed along with the rest of Lycaon''s legacy. Imagine my surprise, when I discovered its presence in the sewers. I cannot tell you this particular one''s origin, nor its master. Parsing those details would be a breach from which I could not recover. But it is the purpose of this meeting. The embodiment of fear itself. And its name is Lithid."


    What felt like a lifetime later, we emerged into the sunlight, the shadows of the demonic chamber fading as the revelations clung on, souring in the wind''s stench of sewer.


    In a matter of seconds, someone grabbed the neck of my armor and yanked me forward. "Where the hells were you?" Sera''s voice revealed the identity of the silhouette as my eyes adjusted to the light. "It''s been hours. I didn''t know what to do, what to tell the men¡ª"


    "At ease, banner lieutenant." I managed. To her credit, Sera released me, scowl now visible beneath the blazing sun. "I know what we''re fighting. And, more importantly, how to fight it."


    "Well, what is it?" Sera demanded. "Changelings? Something vampiric?"


    Closer than you think. Yet somehow worse.


    "There''s little point in repeating the same information twice. I''ll address the regiment in a moment."


    "Fine."


    I reconsidered, calling out after she''d already turned away. "Sera."


    She stopped and turned. "Yes?"


    "You were always fearless growing up, throwing yourself into the sort of trouble Annette and I did our best to stay clear of. Almost vindictive in your rebellion."


    "And?" She crossed her arms, likely expecting me to advise caution.


    I thought about the best way to say it. "I need that version of you now. We all do. The men who decided to follow you, they''ll need you to fight for them to get through this. This is your chance to prove yourself as their direct report and a leader."


    Slowly, she let her arms drop. "It''s that bad?"


    "Make sure everyone''s prepared and alert. Follow the instructions I give the rest of the Banner Lieutenants, and we''ll get through this."


    "Sure..." Sera trailed off, as Annette stumbled up beside me, a little dazed. "Nettles. You alright?"


    "Been better." Annette admitted, as she looked up at me in shame. "I... I... I''m not sure that¡ª"


    I put a hand on her forehead gently, stopping her. "Get one of the soldiers to take you home, little sister. With haste. No arguments."


    "Okay." She agreed quickly, relieved. "I''ll uh... find one that''s weary, unlikely to handle the sewers well."


    "Good thinking."


    Sera stared after Annette as she trudged towards the greater regiment, blinking several times as our sister inspected the group of soldiers, eventually singling one out. "Did she just... run away¡ª"


    "Princess Annette is returning to the castle on my orders." I interjected. "And on the subject of orders..."


    "Yes, yes, your eminence, I''m going." Sera grumbled, though her heart wasn''t in it. Behind her, our arrival had been noticed as more and more heads turned my way.


    "You''ll need to address them soon." Maya said, taking her place at my side. "If you wait too long¡ª"


    "The lithid will have more to feed on. I''m aware."


    "This will be hardest on you." Maya observed, her voice tinged with worry.


    "Perhaps. But... that''s the way it should be." I admitted, looking over the regiment, feeling a swell of pride despite the circumstances. "They''re here because they chose to follow me. I don''t want them to die for that choice. If it takes me first, their chances only get better." I reached over and interlocked my fingers with hers. "And we both know what you face won''t be any easier."


    "If it takes me, I hope it dredges up that wretch from the trial." Maya''s mouth twisted in hatred. "It will bring no end of pleasure to slide a dagger between her ribs."


    "At times you frighten me, Ni''lend." I admitted.


    "Often, I frighten myself," Maya mused, words heavy with meaning. "We should be vigilant in what we say."


    "There are ears everywhere in Whitefall."


    "More today than ever. The wisest course would be to speak of this later, but given what we face, it seems more necessary than usual to set my mind at ease." She squeezed my hand tightly. "When our host was reciting his history... was I imagining it?"


    "No."


    It all lined up perfectly. How the metamorphosis society perfected that final, desperate effort to meddle with time before the world ended. They¡¯d gone to the source. The progenitor of evil.


    Lycaon. The Black Beast.

 Chapter 234: Fracture XL

    The bulk of the regiment remained posted by the sewers, while I led a smaller group of volunteers with experience in woodcraft into the outskirts of the forest that, miles away, became the Everwood. It was tamer here, closer to the capital, thanks to the concerted efforts of Whitefall''s rangers.


    That didn''t mean it was safe. Even this far north, people still disappeared regularly into the forest, consumed by its shadows, leaving no trace.


    With that in mind I divided the volunteers into pairs. They were experienced and seasoned, but anyone could make a mistake.


    After a brief search I located a long green shoot. At first glance it appeared similar to premature barley, but on closer inspection the head was speckled with tiny cotton-like growths that could have passed for cobwebs. I plucked it and turned, presenting it to the gathered volunteers. "Everyone recognize this?"


    There was a scattered affirmative.


    "Pretty sure it''s what ya mix with mead to keep the party going," Mari grinned.


    I feigned applause. "Correct. I''d wager at least a few of you have had some boisterous evenings that stretched into nauseous mornings under your belt courtesy of this very plant. And naturally, too much mead."


    Many of the gathered volunteers laughed, but I spotted enough pained expressions to confirm they knew exactly what I was talking about.


    Towards the back, a balding man with a permanent scowl raised his hand. "This is what we''re gathering? Fresh Vurseng?"


    I nodded. "As I told the regiment at large, the Lithid will strike at the consciousness of mind first. Only after we are sleep-addled, or gods forbid, in the depths of slumber, will it reach the apex of its influence. My intention is to prevent that from happening altogether. Hence, Vurseng." I pointed at him. "But there was more to the question, yes?"


    The bald man shifted uncomfortably as more attention turned towards him. "Apologies my lord. I understand the intent, but not the method. Vurseng is common. Easily found on any plot of green touched by the fingers of the cursed wood. There are countless apothecaries and alchemists within the city walls that would be happy to sell such an ingredient in bulk at discounted prices. Would it not be easier to simply purchase what we need, than spend hours gathering it?"


    "It would certainly be easier." It was nostalgic, in a way. I''d once asked Lillian much the same. I scanned the soldiers. "Does anyone wish to hazard a guess why we''re taking a more difficult path?"


    Several voices rang out, echoing into the forest.


    "Less bickering with merchants."


    "¡ªReserve our purse for more important resources."


    "Efficacy."


    Immediately, I pointed toward the last answer. "Who said that?"


    A boy with porcelain skin and a helmet forged to accommodate pointed ears raised a hesitant hand. "Me, my lord."


    "Name?"


    "Vicant, your grace."


    "The one who chokes," Mari murmured under her breath.


    I let the comment go, noting it for later and approached the boy. He was small of stature, for a soldier. Almost half an arm span shorter than me. "Were you apprenticed before your stint in the armies?" rA?¦­O????§¦S??


    "Nothing official. My father taught me, when he could spare the time," Vicant said, head low, seeming to regret that he''d spoken at all.


    "Then your father taught you well." I smiled encouragingly at him and returned my attention to the group at large. "It is true that for vendors with relevant wares, Vurseng is a staple commodity. For good reason. It produces the same effect as more expensive potions and poultices at a fraction of the cost. Demand is always high, and thanks to its commonality, it is never scarce to find at a reasonable price. Why then, are we out here wasting time marauding nature when it would be simpler to just procure what we need, Vicant?"


    "Uh. Because... some ingredients¡ª"


    "Louder, for the group." I gestured for him to come forward. Vicant stood beside me, pale as a sheet. "Speak from your chest," I murmured in his ear. "Stare between them if you cannot bear to look at them individually, but do them the courtesy of direct address."


    Vicant drew a deep breath and tried again. This time his voice carried. "With any bulk purchase of medicinal or alchemical ingredients, efficacy is a point of concern. A stalk of Vurseng harvested a month prior will look much the same as a stalk obtained the previous day. However it appears, the older stalk''s potency will be severely degraded. It is widespread practice to mix in old with new when fulfilling a large-scale purchase."


    "Excellent." I thumped his shoulder, signaling for him to return to the group, which he did with clear relief. "This mercantile practice is less of a problem for alchemists, who can use magic and various mechanical means to derive the maximum potency from ingredients in practically any state, be it too young, or just shy of rotting off the vine. For our purposes, freshness and potency is critical. That is why we turn to nature for our yield."


    "Do we need to take any special measures while gathering, your grace?" someone asked.


    "Keep the roots intact if you can. They''re earthy, but sweet, and do much to offset the bitterness."


    "We''ll be preparing them in the traditional way? As pipe mash?"


    I nearly rattled off the answer before noticing that Vicant was anxiously fidgeting and realized there was an opportunity to test his knowledge. "A composite of Vurseng and tobacco has always worked best in my experience. If there is a better method, I''m not aware of it."


    "Tea," Vicant clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified that he''d brought attention to himself again.


    Several people laughed. Some went further.


    "Elphion''s balls. The elf wants tea. Who could have seen that coming."


    I paid them no mind, focusing on Vicant again. "Why tea instead of the composite?"


    Vicant cleared his throat. "Both constituents stimulate the mind, my lord, so it is not the worst way. However, where Vurseng clears, tobacco clouds. If the intention is to guarantee every soldier in the regiment receives similar dose that does not cloud the minds of those unaccustomed to tobacco, we should brew it as tea, prepared in large batches at a low boil. It will be far stronger than hash, especially if we use¡ª"


    "¡ªA large kettle. Preferably cast iron with a wide mouth. Holds the heat better and allows for rigorous stirring," Maya cut in smoothly. She played the fool, cocking her head and staring up at the sky. "There are many like that in the Enclave, but I''m not sure where one would source such a thing in the human cities."


    At first I wasn''t sure why she''d interrupted until I pictured what she was describing.


    Ah.


    "An item that could be leveraged for great good, or terrible evil."


    "How worrisome. And what do you intend to do with such a thing?"


    "That is the question." I tossed it up in the air and caught it, regarding it with disdain. "It lends no benefit to me. And while it would, perhaps, be wiser to dispose of it, I must remember that it is a tool. An implement. And implements hold no allegiance beyond their bearer. If I choose to place it in the hands of another, I must do so carefully." I stroked my chin. "And of the many magicians I''ve encountered in my travels, there is only one that is worthy."


    "This is ridiculous." Maya looked away.


    I took several steps forward, closing the distance between us. She glanced towards me, then down at the mirror and looked away. I held it tighter in my grip. "What happened to you in the Sanctum should not have happened. I cannot change it, much as I wish I could. And what occurred during that lapse in judgement caused you to doubt yourself."


    Maya straightened, her posture perfect, almost regal. "As I''ve said before. My actions were mine alone. Don''t laud me for my successes and credit yourself only for my failures."


    "That''s not my intention. What I mean to say, is the doubt you feel? I do not share it." I reached down and slid my fingers between hers. "Nor do I fear the monsters that haunt you. From this life or the last."


    "You did not see, Cairn." Her mouth tightened.


    "No. But I''ve listened. And what I''ve imagined is likely far worse than what actually occurred. Yet there is not a single person in this life nor any other that has held even a fragment of the trust I hold for you. And that trust has never wavered. You don''t have to bear it. As it''s in my possession, you are absolved of that responsibility." I chuckled. "Hells. If you''d like, instead of Kholis, we can travel down to the coast. Spend the sabbatical lounging on the beaches of the Sapphire Sea, and you can dismiss the mirror to its depths at your leisure."


    Maya giggled momentarily, reining in the lapse with a quick bite of her lip. "You''re such a fool."


    "Perpetually." I released her hand and presented the mirror between my palms, as a knight proffers a sword. "Leave it with me, cast it away, or take it and use it. No matter the choice, I trust you to make it. But if you choose the latter, I''d ask for an oath."


    Maya hesitated. "What sort of oath?"


    "That you''ll use it wisely. Sparingly. That it¡ª" My voice broke, and I looked away, waiting for the surge of emotion to fade. "It will never become an instrument of your torment again. That you''ll leave it with a kinder legacy. One of pride, rather than shame."


    "Just that?" Maya smiled a little, turning away to wipe her eyes. "No specific parameters, rules of use?"


    "Just that." There was no point in getting into particulars. That wasn''t the purpose of this exchange. The lithid would spare no kindness for our doubts. Of that, Ozra was clear. Any crack in mental fortitude was a potential weakness for the monster to exploit. Maya was the only reason I was still standing. And if there was any way I could help her prepare, I needed to do it.


    "Then I suppose... you have my oath, Ni''lend." Maya''s fingers closed over the mirror. She leaned in to whisper in my ear. "Kholis cannot come quickly enough." There was pressure, and a pinch that burned like fire as her teeth left my jaw.


    I stepped back reflexively, completely off-balance, uttering a nervous laugh I''d be kicking myself for later


    As she watched me impassively. "Right. Yes. Kholis. Reconnecting with, will be a pleasure. And it''s candied fruit season again! Plenty to look forward to." I picked up the bundle of Vurseng.


    "Yes." Maya replied. "I expect to be fed."


    In the moment it took me to process her words, I tripped, nearly dropping the bundle altogether. Maya chortled as she hefted her own bundle beneath her arm and carried it alongside me, devolving into fits of outright laughter the deeper my scowl grew.


    "Mock while you can. I won''t always be out of practice," I groused.


    "It''s quite fun to tease, knowing exactly what strings to pluck," Maya decided.


    "Uh-huh."


    She leaned over towards me conspiratorially. "It will be even more fun¡ª"


    "¡ªIf the gods planted a glimmer of kindness in your heart, please. Spare me. This armor''s snug as it is and it will be difficult to address the regiment half-bent over," I glared at her over my shoulder.


    "Fine, fine." Maya pressed her lips together in amusement. "You know, the fault is entirely yours."


    "The hells did I do? As suitors go, I''ve been nothing but chaste."


    "With me." Maya smirked. "But your memories have been quite informative. Educational, rather. And I''m nothing if not a quick study."


    "Elphion give me strength."


    "Cairn." She stopped, the playfulness leaving her voice. "We haven''t talked about it."


    "The lithid," I intuited, after a moment.


    "Yes."


    "We''ll search from the outside in until we find its corporeal form. The tea will rouse the men enough that only a few of them will fall asleep, if any. The arch-fiend said it himself, its physical form poses little threat."


    "The wellbeing of the regiment is important. But that is not my immediate concern." Maya stared at me hard. "You bear the greatest danger. Vurseng builds up in the body for years. The tea will not affect you as strongly as the rest. If the lithid turns you¡ª"


    "It won''t."


    "That is an assumption we can''t afford to make. It is not a question of if you fall asleep, but when." Maya stated flatly, leaving little room for argument. "Given the risk, would it not be better to play the role of war-room commander for this engagement?"


    After a brief consideration, I shook my head. "Send the men who chose to follow into a situation where they may have to confront their greatest fears while I hide from mine? No. I... can''t."


    "Can''t, or won''t?" Maya asked unhappily, accent carrying through more heavily than normal. When there was no reply, she huffed, but didn''t offer further argument. "Fine. The last thing I want to do is cause pain, but I need to be sure. You understand what''s coming? The vector from which it will press its offensive? Because if any part of you remains in denial, it will not be just your undoing. We will all pay the price."


    When I answered, my mouth was dry. "I understand."

 Chapter 235: Fracture XL

    It was, without a doubt, the oddest tea party I''d ever attended. And considering I''d once traded veiled threats with an infernal power broker over root tea and sceoquel at the edge of an abyss, that was a surprisingly high bar.


    My soldiers seemed to think the same. Hundreds of them awkwardly sipped from whatever vessel they could drum up. Cups of all sorts until they ran out, then canteens, arriving eventually at bowls and ladles. The sewer''s stench and the strong herbal taste of the brew had already turned several stomachs, and they''d spread out some, away from the grating and runoff, forming impromptu social circles that presented an odd, almost satirical reflection of noble society.


    All while the keening voice of a prophet, or soothsayer, caterwauled in the distant outskirts of the city, howling something barely intelligible about death. Or dying. Or something equally grim.


    Vicant, our recently discovered and thankfully unoffended regimental Warlock, was nervous. Understandably so. If folklore was to be believed, witches and warlocks spent a great deal of time brewing their concoctions in dark and occasionally subterranean spaces such as basements and caves, valuing the safety such isolation presented. Conversely, plying his craft in the middle of a clearing in the clear light of day, brewing a cauldron directly in view of a wall of soldiers, must have been at least somewhat alarming.


    However, after some time, Vicant seemed to be taking a shine to the additional duties. He no longer cringed every time he served the next soldier as if expecting reprisal in the form of a gauntlet to the face. If anything, there was a quiet giddiness beneath his neutral expression. Nothing malevolent.


    I stepped up onto a small stone outcropping a few steps from the grate and caught Sevran''s eye. He nodded and waved to the rest of the Banner Lieutenants, and within minutes the regiment was assembled and alert, waiting for orders.


    So damn organized.


    Quickly, I drained the rest of the brew from my stein, grimacing at the taste, then set it aside.


    Calm. In control. Confident. My father''s voice echoed in my mind. I no longer resisted his counsel as I once had. He was far from a perfect person, and we''d always have our differences, but in this much, at least, he was right.


    "There''s been a lot of talk regarding the threat we face." I smiled, glancing around. "Yes, I''ve been listening. Personally, my favorite theory so far is that the notorious Sirens of the Gilded Coast packed their bags, somehow navigated the mainland, hopping upon piscine fins for miles between rivers and lakes, until they finally reached their ultimate destination." I pointed towards the grate. "Our collective shithole."


    There was laughter. Nervous, but better than none.


    "''Bout the only thing that''d get me excited about goin'' in there." A big voice bellowed out, drawing more mirth.


    I rested my hands behind my back, waiting until the amusement died down. "I bring up the Sirens, because they are not altogether different from the threat before us. They don''t leap from dark waters and drag men to their deaths by force. No. They sing with the voices of angels, presenting their alluring figures just beneath the ocean''s surface, sensuous features illuminated by starlight. Out of curiosity, has anyone ever heard one?"


    A man towards the front with weathered skin raised a calloused hand. "Aye, my lord."


    "In the king''s navy?" I asked, surprised to find a sailor in our midst.


    He shook his head. "Privateer."


    "And during your tenure, how were you counseled to deal with the presence of Sirens?"


    The once-privateer crossed his arms. "Short explanation? Ignore ''em. Though it doesn''t always work."


    "Tell us why."


    And every year after, I lit a candle for her.


    I cursed internally. Another lapse. We were later in the seasons than I''d realized. My sense of time was terrible, for obvious reasons, but my recall in general had suffered. Minor details slipped through my mind like a sieve. If there was any hope of defeating Thoth, I needed to be at my sharpest.


    Which meant snapping out of this haze.


    I surveyed the waiting faces, reminding myself of how much was on the line, and how terrible the consequences could be if we failed.


    Straightening, I picked up where I left off. "Where our foe and the sirens differ, is that a Lithid doesn''t require your attention. It likely prefers otherwise. Over time, it will leech the energy of anyone who sets foot into its domain. Every step taken, every effort made, will be felt tenfold. Which is, of course, the entire reason Vicant''s been slaving away." I clapped in his direction, a ripple of applause following my example. "But Vurseng is a supplement, not a replacement. I don''t need soldiers who follow orders blindly. What this regiment requires is men and women who understand their own limits. So, whether you were up late last night because you couldn''t sleep, out on a discreet rendezvous, or simply hungover, congratulations. You''ll be very awake for the rest of the day, courtesy of the tea. But I need you to step aside." I scanned them, imparting the seriousness of my words. "There''ll be no honor lost, no penalty given."


    Some of them would leave. The picture I was painting was hardly a pretty one, and I was being clear enough that they''d take the mandate seriously. Part of me worried there would be a sudden exodus, halving the available manpower.


    But, thankfully, only a few did. A dozen at most, wincing apologetically as they retreated. If anything, the overall number seemed low. I was still waiting for more when Sera asked the obvious question.


    "Say it puts someone to sleep. What does it do? Feed on them, like the sirens?" Whatever doubts she held, Sera''s demeanor was imperious, confident. She was taking the lieutenant role seriously.


    "In a manner of speaking." I nodded, not entirely sure how best to explain it. "Its ultimate goal is possession. In theory, it''s capable of controlling hundreds, possibly thousands."


    That drew a din of alarm, and I raised my hands for calm.


    "Possession is not as straightforward as in the tales." I assured them. "Even if you fall asleep, and it snares you, the outcome is uncertain. In the brief window between unconsciousness and possession, the Lithid will attempt to break down your mental defenses. There are countermeasures in place, should that come to pass. If you fall asleep, your fellow soldiers will attempt to carry you out of the Lithid''s domain. If that fails, there are other alternatives. Even if the worst comes to pass, all you need to do is resist until we can find its form, and end it.¡±


    "The sirens use a song of seduction to trap their prey. What does the Lithid use?" Sevran asked at the front of his division, seemingly unbothered.


    This was the part they wouldn''t like.


    "The Lithid¡ª"


    "¡ªTHEY ARE UPON US! THEY ARE HERE! THEY ARE HERE!" The herald screeched, loud enough that he could have been less than a wingspan away.


    "For the sake of the gods, does the man never shut up?" I spun, furious, trying to catch sight of the speaker and finding no one.


    "Quiet!" Maya said. Her head was tilted, as if she was straining to listen.


    Seconds later, I heard it too, saturating the ambient noise from the city. Horses whinnying in fright, the frantic crashing of panicked movement, distant screams, forever echoing across the city as the cacophony grew louder, and louder still.


    What the hells is happening?

 Chapter 236: Fracture XLI

    A light blue spectral tear zig-zagged through the air, sporadically pausing at seemingly random intervals before it shot forward again, zipping from rooftop to rooftop, thousands of others like it in the backdrop of sky. Its exterior was almost gaseous, trailing wisps like see-through cilia, while its interior was dark, implying the presence of something less ethereal within.


    With no warning it plunged downward and slammed into the skull of a fleeing tradesperson, sending a concussive shockwave that reached nearly thirty-span away.


    The man should have been dead. But he wasn''t. Instead, he writhed on the ground as if swarmed with countless insects, hands plastered over his face¡ªno, his eyes¡ªwhere a frigid blue-light radiated from beneath them.


    And behind him, further down the street, there were at least ten others locked in the same throes.


    It didn''t take much to put it together. Draugeblod. Wispy entities attacking random people. The talk of possession so recently in mind. The other disasters I''d experienced cycled aggressively through my mind. I let them come, filtering out the fear, leveraging everything I''d learned.


    The severity of anything approaching this scale was decided in the first hour. When there were thousands of lives on the line, and imminent danger, people died quickly.


    There was no time to think. To ponder why this was happening now.


    I opened my mouth, about to give the order to restrain the fallen people long enough for Maya, Vicant, or any of the healers to establish what was happening to them, when armed men rushed the streets.


    Blackshields and regular rank-and-file rushed the streets, organized and assembled. But the bigger surprise was the mages. Every member of my father''s personally trained honor guard was flanked by a member of the Crimson Hand. They operated in tandem, Blackshields restraining the fallen, while the Crimson Hand chanted incantations over wands or tomes.


    "Thought those two hated each other," Mari mumbled, shifting back and forth on her feet.


    "They do," I agreed, thrown off by the sudden reinforcements. In my past life the Crimson Brand were treated much like an open secret. Everyone knew they existed, but they were generally shunned by the military and outright forbidden from taking any action within the bounds of Whitefall. It took a great deal of training and discipline to cultivate a combined effort this effective.


    Another surprise from my father. He had no end to them, as of late.


    "Keeping rank, or acting to supplement, my lord?" Sevran asked. The banner lieutenant was impassive as always, but his spear was brandished, ready.


    I considered that. There was something about this I didn''t like. But in a state of emergency, the directive was clear. Regardless of the usual chain of command, in a time of local crisis, the King''s orders superseded all others. You either acted on direct commands, or if you happened to be caught out without them, sought the highest ranking person you could find who had orders. Which meant there was really only one choice: diverting from our current course and assisting the greater armies.


    "Support in a reserve capacity," I said, reluctantly. Then remembering the unfortunate casualties of the gray plague, as well as several riots and uprisings, amended that statement. "Belay that." I turned to Sevran, imparting seriousness into my words. "Split up, support the core armies as you would otherwise, but concentrate your efforts to Topside. Make sure they''re following the same procedures there as they are here."


    My orders were technically treasonous. But the lieutenants took little issue. They were all clever enough to realize that distribution of troops in a shitstorm was naturally scattershot, and unless someone could jump through the many barriers of proving our original location and that we moved to Topside with intent...


    "And if they aren''t?" Sevran asked, the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice.


    "Then signal." My stomach tightened, the memories of mass graves filled with beggars and various topside all too visceral in my memory. "I won''t be far behind."


    Sera frowned. "We don''t know the situation at the castle. Someone should go¡ª"


    She was cut off as Mari rounded on her, pressing into her space, the much shorter woman intimidating nonetheless. "Didn''t take long to bleed purple. Piss off back to the most secure place in the city, pretend you''re doing something. Kiss my arse."


    Never one to ignore provocation, Sera stepped forward, bumping against the woman''s breastplate. "Say it again."


    "Mari''s right," I cut in quickly, trying to circumvent the conflict before it bore fruit. "In theory, Annette''s in the safest place in the capital. But this might be an attempt to draw troops away from Castle Whitefall."


    "A smokescreen." Mari grunted, observing the widespread chaos as she absorbed the idea. "If this is all a distraction? It''s a damn good one." She backed off with a muttered ''apologies,'' which Sera flagrantly ignored.


    "On that topic, does anyone else find the timing of this incident peculiar?" Sevran shifted a little, peering into the growing smoke.


    "And me?" Maya asked.


    I weighed the possibilities, then shook my head. "Stay with Sera." I withdrew the water orb from my satchel, holding it up between us. "If we suddenly start talking casualties, I''ll call for you."


    Maya raised her matching orb, and I gave mine a shake, confirming the binding still held, coming away satisfied.


    "You know where you''re going?" I asked Sevran as the infernal half-jogged, returning from the assembly of blackguards he''d been speaking to.


    Instead of answering, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. "There are reports of an unquenchable fire in Topside."


    "What color?"


    "Nothing out of the ordinary," Sevran confirmed.


    It wasn''t demon fire. Still. Even a single fire mage could wreak havoc on a city. Normally there were precautions and safeguards to quickly locate such a person. But I had a feeling those measures weren''t functioning well at the moment.


    "They think it''s the work of a magician?"


    "Not the sort you''re expecting." Sevran shook his head, lowered voice becoming almost inaudible. "The Crimson Brand is, to their credit, working to contain it. I suspect the quick response has less to do with decency than the slow response during the previous fires. Any water they conjure evaporates before it hits the flames. Yet the ordinary men and women carrying pails seem entirely unaffected."


    I sucked in a breath. "The void mage."


    Void, as an element, was rare. Rare enough that the entire enclave full of infernals seldomly housed over ten void mages like Bell at any given time. I''d caught glimpses of a powerful void mage acting behind the scenes, first during the confrontation with my father''s forces outside the enclave. One powerful enough to suppress my sister''s magic, bringing her no end of heartbreak. It was possible there were two, and I was inventing a greater enemy where none existed.


    But my instincts said otherwise.


    "This all seem too easy to you? Too orderly?" I asked Sevran quietly.


    "Many things appear easy before they show their true face," Sevran returned. "But if the situation does not transform, and soon, I''d be shocked if it was little more than coincidence."


    "Aetherya," I called to where she stood off to the side, peering down a nearby side-street that was a hive of activity. "Keep scouts overhead. Regardless of the situation. If there''s something else driving this, or someone, the last thing we need is to be blindsided."


    "Always do," she acknowledged.


    "I''ll be up there with them, so make sure they don''t shoot me."


    There was a split-second of displeasure before Aetherya answered. "Of course, my lord."


    I grabbed Maya''s hand, gripping lightly before releasing. "Stay safe."


    "You too."


    As the regiment disbursed, each heading towards a separate quarter of topside, I slipped into an alley, ditching my armor with the awkward assistance of a regimental squire. As armor went, mine was lighter than most. But the void mage was meticulous. They''d been completely hidden from me to this point. If this was my one chance of catching them off guard, I needed to move swiftly. The way I had in the sanctum.


    I pulled the tabard''s hood over my head, grateful for any protection against the wind, scaled the wall, and took to the rooftops.

 Chapter 237: Fracture XLII

    Wind crashed past my ears as I made the leap from one rooftop to the next. The inscriptions in my legs burned, and my muscles ached. I''d softened some, since my return. In the sanctum I''d managed similar acrobatics nearly every day, using trees and caverns in Mountainside to obscure my presence from either the unwitting infernal children pursuing their rites of adulthood, or the corrupted creatures I hunted.


    Close enough to Topside now that I could see the smoke, I slowed my pace, making each leap more cautiously, hiding behind whatever cover I could find. Almost absentmindedly, more out of habit than anything else, I touched the amulet at my neck.


    "Vogrin? Anything to add?"


    The expected, irritable response never came. I groaned in annoyance. Vogrin couldn''t materialize indefinitely. My summon functioned the same as any demonic summon, siphoning off a small percentage of mana until he''d gathered enough to materialize. And considering how long the negotiations with Ozra went, I could only assume he was spent.


    Could have given me a heads up before we were about to make our way into the sewers.


    In fact, he really should have. I frowned.


    There was a whinge of wood, and I looked up to see the lithe form of a leather-armored elf, pointing a fully drawn bow in my general direction.


    "The instructions I gave were for you, as well as your division," I clarified, glancing down at the waiting arrow.


    Aetherya lowered the weapon. Slightly. "Couldn''t be sure it was you. From a distance it could have been any human child, cowering on the rooftops."


    "I thought Elven vision was superior."


    "That changes little."


    I fought a surge of annoyance, eventually settling on ignoring her, measuring the distance to the next rooftop, and backing up until I was confident in the run-up.


    Aetherya spoke quickly. "Sevran believes you''re hunting the void mage. He is under the impression that I could be of help, as my division is disciplined enough to fulfill their role without my oversight."


    "And you agree?"


    "I am impassive, in the matter."


    I rolled my eyes. Tempting as it was to tell her to strike rocks, reluctant help was better than no help. And putting emotion aside, I could really use someone with her skill-set.


    "Alright." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I have a plan to deal with the fire, but there''s a problem. Soon as I do, he''ll know I''m there. Extinguishing the flames means giving him a window to escape. I¡¯m guessing he''s up high somewhere, elevated."


    "And you''ve established this how?" Aetherya questioned.


    "If you''re a mage capable of using void from range, you''re either embedded in the frontline as a spell breaker, or at an elevated distance shaping the battle from afar. I doubt our quarry is the sort to break concealment," I said, not bothering to hide my disgust.


    Aetherya nodded, seeming to find the explanation satisfactory. "Then lead. I''ll position myself to observe everything you cannot."


    ¡ª


    I panted, cycling clean air into my lungs with wind magic. It barely helped. The smoke from the growing fire¡ªa grainery to the side of a mercantile square¡ªhung hazy in the square. There was a flash of movement that half startled me before I realized it was Aetherya, scaling a multi-story common house near the fire, clinging to a brick chimney, bow drawn, perfectly still.


    Everything Sevran described held true. A long line of dirty, sweat-sodden faces formed, weathering the storm of spirits armed with pails and wine-skins, moving in tandem. The prior orderliness of the Crimson Brand had evaporated. For the most part they held their position to the side, watching the fire warily.


    Slowly, then quickly, the inferno died.


    A ragged cheer broke out on the street, but I barely noticed. Across the clearing, Aetherya was shaking her head.


    No movement.


    Dammit. I snarled, ditching any remaining instinct to stay hidden and dropped down the front of the building, barely remembering to place an aegis and break my fall. There was a reason this was happening. The void mage played a part, of that much, I was certain.


    Unfortunately, the rules of Topside¡ªscatter as soon as the crisis is averted¡ªgave them perfect cover.


    I darted from person to person, taking in their faces, peeking under hoods, looking for anyone out of the ordinary, checking if Aetherya had found someone and growing more desperate when I realized she hadn''t.


    In the span of minutes, there were more ghosts than people. Floating specters and ambling silhouettes.


    Aetherya descended from her perch in an acrobatic series of hops, beginning on a distant awning all the way to where she landed beside me, solidly. "Well. That was a disappointment."


    "They were here." I snapped, shuddering in discomfort as one of the silhouettes walked through me, leaving behind a cold, cloying sensation.


    "Yet there was nothing to report." Aetherya breathed a long sigh. "It is no accident the void mage has remained hidden for so long. But we must think strategically. Subjecting a granary to arson is senseless. We must accept the possibility the fire was lit as a distraction."


    "I''m telling you, they were here." I seethed, still scanning the square, finding little beyond frightened expressions. "It''s the only explanation for what happened to the water. They were just here."


    Aetherya shrugged, unbothered. "Experience suggests we will not pick up this trail for sometime. Carry on the search if you wish. But I must tend my greater duties."


    Ever so briefly, I entertained the idea of ordering her to stay, before eventually dismissing it. There was less tension between us these days, but it was far from gone. And I was meant to be above using my power for pettiness.


    I waved her away, watching with clenched fists as the Elven lieutenant sprang up the nearby wall.


    Cephur chose her for a reason.


    We''d never seen the void mage leave. And yes, Aetherya could be right, the bastard could have slipped away through a blind-spot, maybe even with the aid of a glamour. But there was an obvious, second possibility. In lieu of support, I scoured the square, searching any possible hiding spot. They could be hiding in plain sight, beneath the curtains of a shuttered stall, peeking through the gaps of planks in a doorway.


    As I attempted to look everywhere at once, hope dwindled. The square was entirely abandoned, save the owner of the granary, surveying the damage.


    Still, I pressed on. Searching for something. Anything.


    The ghosts grew more numerous. In human form they were harmless, but every time they passed through me, it was like the very warmth was being siphoned from my chest.


    With every possibility expended, I sidestepped a lone specter, intending to question the granary''s owner.


    And stopped short when a frigid hand clamped down on my wrist.


    "Please... Help me..." A familiar voice whispered.

 Chapter 238: Fracture XLIII

    She clung to my sleeve. The touch was numbing, as her slight form held onto me tightly, her face cast downward, a curtain of dark hair covering her eyes. She appeared older than she would have... after... well, you know the story. I wasn''t sure how that worked, and there was an odd veneer that encompassed her, smoothing features at the cost of clarity, leaving an image akin to a parchment sketch. But it was her.


    Lillian''s mouth twisted in fright.


    Gods damned Draugblod.


    The fear, regret, and guilt I''d been suppressing roared to the surface, a chimera with a vice-like grip on my guts.


    "Greetings," I said, trying for kindness without being overly familiar. Suddenly it no longer seemed so important to find the void mage. Aetherya was likely right. Through whatever means¡ªmagical or otherwise¡ªthey were gone. "You look a bit lost."


    "I am..." she whispered.


    I looked around, trying to get a sense of the greater threat. There were fewer unbound spirits roving the sky now. Even the city''s din had quieted. There was still chaos and confusion, but only the occasional scream.


    The crisis was contained, for now.


    There was a sudden, irrepressible urge to offer excuses. To explain, in gratuitous, winding detail, why I hadn''t been there in her time of need. An urgency.


    Like it was the last chance.


    Somehow, I buried it. Along with the guilt, and regret, and fear, I buried it. There was no point in explanations. She was already frightened, unsure of her environment, what was happening around her. Lillian never knew me in this life. Even if some fraction of memories were intact, I was just another noble to her. Some spoiled son of a regent who''d disappeared without explanation.


    So I asked her the only thing I could think of. "Do you want to go home?"


    "Yes... but it''s the funniest thing." She breathed a shaky laugh. "I can''t remember where it is."


    My heart dropped. There was a familiar urge to shoulder the burden for her. To put on a brave face, so she didn''t have to. Foolish as it was. She''d always had a way of bringing the joy out of me, even when I was sure there was none to give. Returning that?


    Well, it was only fair.


    "Well, I''m a mage. Could try my magical spell of home divining," I offered, trying to stay light.


    She laughed. Gods how I''d missed that laugh.


    "That doesn''t sound real." Lillian eyed me doubtfully, amused nonetheless.


    "Let''s try it and see." I put my hand out towards her forehead, shuddered like a soothsayer, then chucked my thumb towards the outlet behind us. "Yep. The divine mana of the eternal plane is pointing... that way."


    "One would think the divine mana of an eternal plane would have better things to do." Her lips quirked in amusement.


    "Absolutely. But it doesn''t mind if I ask for directions, from time to time," I quipped, mentally tripping over how puerile it felt. In the beginning, jokes and making light of difficult situations came so naturally to me. At some point in the journey, I''d lost that. Something I''d only just realized.


    I extended my arm to her, as I had a thousand times.


    She slipped hers into it, as she had a thousand more.


    We walked through the city openly, something we''d rarely done beyond that first month I knew her. It was difficult to be sure of exactly how much awareness Lillian had. She didn''t seem to notice the specters, or the mobilized infantry keeping them in check, only to seize on various landmarks and shops. Deeper in topside, she stopped flat, staring at a window display filled with tomes. "I''ve... been here before."


    "Of course you have."


    "What does that mean?" she asked, giving me a wary look.


    "It means you seem the sort to read many books."


    "So... bookish?"


    I smiled a little. "We''re both liable to consume entire libraries at the slightest excuse, so there''s no judgement." It was a lapse. Minor enough that I hoped she''d take it at face value. But as we grew closer to the destination, she spoke again.


    "You died here, yes." I crossed the distance and took her hand. "But somehow, beyond my understanding, you found your way back home."


    The silence was long and helpless, as she absorbed that. The constant undercurrent of worry she carried for most of our relationship returned, etching itself in the lines on her forehead. "What more can be done for the dead?" she whispered.


    "Magic is shockingly adept at offering solutions for the unexpected. I owe Gunther much. More than could possibly be repaid. I''ll do everything in my power to help you."


    "Loyalty to my father." Her frigid fingers caressed my cheek, the chill seeping in, numbing my gums, my teeth. "Is that truly the reason for such kindness?"


    I took a step back, my head spinning. "Yes."


    She watched me closely, her eyes piercing. "When my awareness returned, I was at a loss. Completely disoriented. Everything felt wrong. But as the malaise lessened, I noticed something more. An ache. Like a part of me was broken, missing."


    Tremors plied at my arms, my body, my legs. "A traumatic event separated your soul from your body. It would be stranger if you didn''t experience a sense of displacement."


    "That feeling vanished the moment I touched you." She pursued as I backed away until my shoulders bumped the sidewall. "We''re connected somehow."


    Maya''s visage flashed before me, a reminder that things were different now. I owed Lillian much. Safety. Security. The chance at a normal life, and credit for her accomplishments.


    But that was where it ended. My attachment to her was the reason she was targeted. By my father and Thoth. In my grief, I''d idealized what we had. What we were. The Sanctum forced me to reexamine those memories without the gilded tint, which was a harrowing experience in its own right. Even if I''d returned to Whitefall and found her alive, it would have changed little. We weren''t soul bound. We were flawed people who found each other in a sea of despair and clung on tightly, even as we drowned.


    My path remained unchanged. I''d do everything I could for Lillian, then follow through on what I should have done a lifetime ago.


    Leave her be.


    "Charmed. Truly." I removed her hand from me gently, giving it a squeeze as I let it go. "But unfortunately, that''s not what this is. I''m spoken for. And let me assure you, we''ve never met in this life."


    "Oh." Her mouth formed an expression of surprise. Embarrassment flushed bright red on her cheeks, trailing down her neck. "Oh no. Apologies. From the bottom of my heart. Gods¡ªI''m such a fool. Throwing myself at the first person kind enough to stop and help."


    "Well, most in your position are either floating around like clouds or dive-bombing fleeing innocents so I''d say, comparatively, you''re doing fine." It was all I could do to stay calm, obfuscate the turmoil within.


    "I suppose."


    An idea occurred, as I glanced back towards the apothecary. For the most part, it was bare. But the kitchen was complete enough that they''d begun moving in the appliances. "This has been a strange day for everyone. I''ll need to get in touch with others soon, people who can help with your situation. We don''t know if you can actually drink anything, but someone told me, once, that even the scent of the right tea is balm for the troubled."


    Lillian nodded agreement. "Probably my father."


    "Probably," I agreed. "Lavender? It''s pleasant enough on the nose." I paused, and whispered awkwardly. "And, to be honest, it''s all I have on me."


    Her smile was pained as she stared down at the ground. "Lavender''s fine. Better than fine. It''s... my favorite."


    "Alright. I''ll brew something. We''ll enjoy it together, and when you''re ready, discuss what comes next." Even as I moved to enter the partially rebuilt apothecary, Lillian remained rooted in place.


    "Do you want to stay out here?" I asked, some part of me afraid that if she was out of my sight, for even a second, she''d fade away.


    "For a while. Just... trying to get a handle on everything." She smiled that pained smile again. "The quiet helps, sometimes."


    As I listened, I realized she was right. The specters dotting the sky were nearly gone. Beneath it, the din of panic and clanking armor was all but silent. My friends, family, and regiment were likely safe. It wouldn''t hurt to spend a little more time here.


    "Call, if you need anything." I pulled the door shut behind me. In the scant seconds before it closed, Lillian called out. Her voice was so soft, so gentle, I barely heard it.


    "Thank you, Cairn."


    The shock that followed was difficult to describe. Like I''d suddenly been thrown into frigid water and yanked out. As if controlled by memory alone, I set to brewing the lavender. It wasn''t difficult. Someone had been thoughtful enough to fuel the newly installed stove, despite explicit instructions that there would be no one to use it for the immediate future. There was a teakettle and matching cups alone in the cupboard. The interior was painted, almost identical to what it once was, though the choice to do so before the roof was finished was curious. All-the-while, the water boiled easily. I remained within a cage of my own mind, acting out a process I''d carried out countless times, keeping the inevitable at bay.


    Just for a few minutes more.


    I had time to pour a single cup of tea before Lillian screamed.

 Chapter 239: Fracture XLIV

    My body moved before my mind could process, and in seconds, I''d leapt down the steps of the apothecary and positioned myself in front of her, shielding her from any threat.


    Our threat came in the form of possessed soldiers. And no small number. There were five, each with glowing eyes and mouths that lent a ghastly visage, one out in front of the others, sword out, approaching Lillian before I''d stepped between them.


    Their uniforms strummed an odd chord in my mind. Something I should have remembered, but couldn''t.


    "Unexpected guests?" I asked, feeling a frigid chill as Lillian huddled behind me.


    "They''re trying to hurt me," she hissed, terrified.


    The possessed soldier at the front raised his sword, glinting steel pointed directly at Lillian. "The soul means to escape its cycle. This is forbidden."


    "Oh," I responded, keeping careful watch on the soldier. Other than the one in front, the other four were oddly passive. Nothing like the way bandits aggressively positioned, looking for any opportunity to stick a blade through. Their weapons were drawn, two bows among them raised and pointed, but the posture among the melee fighters was decidedly defensive.


    "Draw your blade. Draw it. They could attack at any moment!" Lillian urged.


    I appraised the group again. "Why? They haven''t advanced. Our friends seem more wary of us than we are of them."


    "At least put the tea down," Lillian hissed.


    Stupidly, I looked down and realized that in my haste, I''d brought the cup with me. It seemed a shame to throw away something so pleasant and familiar, so I brought it to my lips instead, intending to drain it.


    "Don''t... drink... that," one of the possessed guardsmen croaked.


    I removed the cup from my lips. For a brief moment I considered doing the opposite, more out of petty defiance than anything else, before tossing the cup to the side where it shattered on the stone. "And why have I wasted my tea?"


    The guardsman remained silent.


    "Give her to us," the guard on point repeated.


    The cold, rational part of my mind returned first. "They''re convinced you did something wrong. You didn''t?"


    "Nothing other than wake up and follow you home," Lillian answered in a panic. I could feel her nails pressing into the fabric of my tabard, digging into my skin.


    "What is it you expect me to do? They clearly outnumber us. I have a single sword to their three, and they have arrows to spare," I carried on, feeling cold and artificial.


    "Cairn... please," Lillian begged, sobbing into my back. "The connection. My missing piece. It''s real. Whatever lies you choose to tell yourself, you feel it too. You have to feel it. Whatever their reason, the gods spoke our fate into being."


    "Isn''t it time? To let this go and move on?"


    "While you went gallivanting on adventures, I died screaming," she spat, all venom, the mask entirely off.


    Something inside me went cold. "Oh, that trespass will be returned. Sevenfold."


    "You can''t." There was something strange in her dark eyes. A secret. "Even if you live a hundred years and forget everything that happened between us, you''ll never be free of me."


    "Maybe." I half-shrugged, feeling more numb than anything else. "Grief isn''t linear. You don''t just wake up one day and find the regrets gone. It moves in cycles. But letting it control you only leads to more sorrow. I can''t let mine sway me anymore." I walked some distance away, clearing the line of fire.


    "You absolute bastard. I wish I could be here to see the look on your face, when you finally realize what''s coming," she shouted after me.


    "More empty words from the wretch talking out of a dead girl''s mouth."


    I looked to the possessed guards, raised my hand, and gave the signal.


    Lillian smiled and closed her eyes, as the guards raised their bows and prepared to fire. "You never stopped maligning the king. Waxing poetic over every trespass and sin. Yet here you are. His very image. In more ways than one."


    The possessed guards fired.


    Everything went black.


    /////


    Thwip


    The stench of sewer overwhelmed my senses. The distant glow of torches came into view, but I couldn''t move. Something constrained me, binding my arms and legs tightly.


    As more arrows hit their target, the lithid''s grasp slackened enough that I managed to draw my sword, ignite it, illuminating the dingy passage with violet light.


    There was enough light to make out Lillian¡¯s visage, swimming in the formless, oily mass.


    You¡¯d never hurt me, right?


    I plunged the sword home.

 Chapter 240: Fracture XLV

    Disorientation. Disgust. Rage.


    A swathe of emotions swept over me, so abrupt and destructive the lithid must have been suppressing it before I broke free.


    What a loathsome thing it was. Dredging up fears from the darkest recesses of a person''s mind, weaponizing their greatest nightmares. I held no animus against the monsters in the sanctum that acted as beasts, simply hunting for sustenance and killing prey. They were still a danger, and when necessary, I slayed them as humanely as possible.


    But this thing?


    It deserved far worse.


    I tore my sword free, dark oily mass spattering into the sewage below, and drove it home again, aiming more towards the center. It squealed and writhed beneath me, screeching like something unworldly. All at once, it bucked upward, trying to throw me off.


    Somehow, I held my balance, tugged at the sword. And balked.


    No matter how I pulled it didn''t budge.


    The creature timed its next attempt perfectly with my movements, waiting until I''d expended strength on another attempt to pull the sword free before it suddenly twisted, sending me splashing into the sewage. I closed my eyes too late, and caustic burn penetrated my skull.


    Stoke that fire until it''s so hot you can barely stand it. Burn away the grief until there''s nothing left.


    Half-blind, I lunged through the sewage, grabbing for something, anything, until my hand landed on something slick that immediately tried to squirm away. I dug my fingers in, holding grip even as it wrenched at me violently, eventually anchoring my other hand.


    The violet light radiated through my eyelids as I wrestled it tightly, pouring fire through it. It squealed again, timbre of its voice escalating, growing shrill.


    Demon fire doesn''t work on demons.


    But was that really true? Maybe. The last time I''d attempted to use the dantalion flame against a demon, it''d been fruitless enough that I''d never tried again. But its reaction seemed so terrified, and I''d come a long way since then.No?v(el)B\\jnn


    I dug my fingers in tightly, several popping through, piercing the protective membrane, recalling the flame that burned amongst the pooling refuse, cycling it through, gathering as much ambient mana as I could as it writhed, attempting to retreat, wiggle away.


    Burn.


    White flame erupted, so hot I could barely stand it. But it didn''t matter. Any pain or discomfort I felt now was worth it if it meant rendering this monstrosity to ash. I felt bits of it crumbling, and opened my eyes, my vision blurry. From what little I could see, it was entirely atypical. No appendages to target, and presumably, no traditional organs.


    Fine. When precision failed, overwhelming force was the best option.


    I forced white flame through my fingers, specifically the ones that pierced it, and immolated it from the inside.


    Shrieks turned to savage snarls. There was a rough thump against my tabard, followed by an icy burn I''d long ago associated with being stabbed. I looked down to find a tendril of darkness piercing my torso, wiggling to widen the wound. During the vision, it''d made me take my armor off. Apparently, that part was real. It should have been excruciating.


    But all I could really think about was how badly I wanted to destroy it.


    RELEASE ME BEFORE WE BOTH REACH OUR END. A chorus of voices forced their way through my mind, all screaming the same words in a dreadful raucous.


    "No." I murmured.


    Then poured enough mana through my hands that the flames ravaged the lithid from the inside in a wide corona, erupting outward, setting the wide walls of the tunnel aflame.


    IT HURTS.


    "Does it?" I sneered, adjusting my grip again, ensuring the crumbling of its form didn''t give it an opportunity to escape. "This pain is nothing... compared to what you inflict on countless others. Does it truly give such pause?"


    The black oily mass writhed, and a face took form, Lillian''s, howling in agony.


    Elphion damn you.


    I pulled from the ambient mana, pumping more into the wretch, not bothering to weave or even control it. In a controlled state, the flame of absolution had many applications. Short-range teleportation, and a limited ability to disassemble and reassemble objects. In its raw, unsophisticated form, however?


    It was pure destruction.


    Another tendril pierced my shoulder, and seconds later, my guts. My vision grayed, and not from overuse of mana. A sign that death was near.


    Keeping it fully anchored beneath me, I reached a hand towards the rictus of Lillian''s face. There had to be a reason it was manifesting a weaker version of the same illusion, when a more convincing version hadn''t worked before.


    It had to be protecting something.


    Forgive me.


    I drove my fingers into her eyes, her cheeks. This time they pierced easily, and I drove the fire through it, tapping every reserve I had. The halo of flame grew brighter as the lithid wailed, rolling violently as I clung to it, eventually overtaking and forcing me back into the sewage. Still I held on, feeding the flame, surrendering to it, even as my soul quake and my mana grew slight¡ª


    BOOM.


    There wasn''t time to register the explosion before it flung me backward, separating me from the creature, sending me flying down the tunnel. My shoulder crunched as I slammed into the circular tunnel wall, and my knee cracked moments later. The already damaged arm went numb as it impacted the maintenance ledge and I landed face first in the sewage, barely keeping the wherewithal to hold my breath.


    I couldn''t move. Being stabbed to death by a monster¡ªor a man¡ªwasn''t so bad. By this point I''d experienced it countless times. In some ways, it was almost pleasant, once you''d lost enough blood that everything got numb. This, by comparison, was far worse. It was harder to hold your breath with any injuries. And when I broke, I''d be breathing in the refuse of the city above, filling my lungs with it.


    My arm snapped into place, and the pain followed, my vision swimming, a darkness pressing in around it.


    "Cairn. It''s... worse than I thought. This will hurt." Maya warned. Through the numbness, I felt her touch on my fractured arm.


    "Do it." I growled.


    Bone rubbed against bone, sliding, grinding, and my vision narrowed as pain bowled me over, lighting every nerve and neuron.


    "Squeeze, ya cunt!"


    I squeezed for all I was worth, fighting unconscious, holding on for what felt like an eternity until all at once, it was finally over. I sagged back against the wall, sucking in breath, waiting for my vision to return to normal. Mari slipped free.


    "How is he?" Someone asked.


    "Counting down the minutes... until I can mount that lithid... above my fireplace."


    There was scattered laughter.


    "Stable, for now. I''ll want to examine everyone more extensively once the threat has passed." Maya answered.


    "Mind fixing this?" Mari said, stoic again, now that the danger had passed.


    "Of course."


    Mari held her hand out to Maya. Some of her fingers were bent strangely, at odd angles, and I realized what I''d done.


    "Apologies." I muttered, feeling a flash of guilt.


    "Why?" Mari grinned. "Told you to squeeze. Only broke a couple fingers ''fore I called you by my mother''s name and the rest got buggered."


    "Nevertheless, thank you both." I stood, feeling a little awkward at all people who''d witnessed my thrashing. It was embarrassing. But from the looks on their faces, they understood. These were seasoned soldiers. Most had taken injuries in the line of duty. "And all of you. For holding the line, when I couldn''t." A particular part of the hallucination came back to me, and I scanned their faces. "Who warned me not to drink?"


    A man stepped forward. "Uh, me, my lord. Then everyone else."


    "And the cup was filled with what I think it was filled with?"


    Everyone nodded.


    I clapped a hand on his chest. "Remind me to buy you a very nice sword."


    "We''re not supposed to take gifts from officers, but the gods''ll strike me down before I argue." The man''s eyes glimmered in amusement. "Ye really gave it the business. That lithid. Ain''t seen nothing like it."


    "A performance he won''t be repeating." Maya said, twisting back to look at me as she continued mending Mari''s hand.


    "Right. Because fire and shit has an annoying tendency to explode." I looked around. "Do we have any idea where the others are?"


    "Well. Aetherya''s flat ass disappeared." Mari flexed her newly healed fingers. "Can''t say for sure if she was taken or just broke ranks to do snobby elf things."


    Maya grimaced. "There were strict orders to stay together. My instinct''s that she''s been abducted."


    "She''s ignored orders before, milady." Mari said.


    "Zin and Sevran?" I checked.


    "They were taken down the northern channel." Maya explained. "Snatched by the same tendrils that held you, carried off before anyone could react."


    "But the creature was here." I pointed out, confused.


    "Seems to be everywhere from the looks of it." Mari shook her head. "Like the whole sewer is the monster."


    "Fine, that''s our course. North. We recover our people first, then bring the fight to the lithid. But we need a strategy to free them."


    "I''ve worked out a method." Maya said, glancing over at Mari and quickly away, as the shorter woman''s cheeks burned red. "Got lucky the first time, caught it off guard. We were in the midst of attempting to do the same for you but it increased its defenses."


    "The only reason it did so well was because of the chokepoint." Sera mused, speaking up for the first time. There was an irregular pallor to her skin, but she seemed stable. Almost confident. "We were attacking it from a single direction, sporadically, as it was using a hostage as a shield. If we split the current forces in two and create a roving flank moving parallel down the tunnels, it won''t be able to use the same tactic."


    "Makes sense to me. And if we get you close enough, you can break them out?" I asked, watching Maya carefully.


    "Yes." Maya confirmed. Her staff trembled, all the anger she''d been suppressing in my absence seeping through. "This parasite practices its foul craft in solitude. It is unaccustomed to direct opposition regarding matters of the mind."


    "Anyone have a sword?" One of the soldiers tossed me a spare blade. I drew it, examining the steel for sharpness and coming away satisfied. A far cry from the blade I''d lost, but it would do for now. "Two groups. One with Sera, one with me. Let''s make this thing regret it ever came to Whitefall."


    A grim shout of defiance rose, fading into silent purpose, as we pushed north, deeper into the sewers.

 Chapter 241: Fracture XLVI

    It was slow going. The air itself was heavy, vile, exceeding the mundane stench of waste and decay. The rounded walls swam, their aperture widening and tightening with seemingly no pattern. Pushing through it all felt like forcing my way through a physical barrier, sometimes requiring such effort that my vision darkened, unconsciousness little more than a single misstep away.


    Nightmares lurked at every turn and ambush point. Distant voices of loved ones wailed out in agony, the cacophony overlapping, offset and dissonant, wheezing like a lung riddled with holes.


    Mutilated hands reached from the muck for our legs, our boots, tattered skin sloughing off as they tried to drag whoever they could get a hold on towards the muck.


    Sometimes entire people rose from the sludge, begging for clemency even as they advanced, toying with the heartstrings of anyone whose attention they could capture, buying enough time to close distance. Some threw themselves forward, attempting to bite. Others attempted to jam their fetid fingers into eyes, mouths, anything they could feasibly reach that wasn''t armored.


    So far, only one man had been blinded, another badly mauled. The only saving grace preventing further casualties was that the wretches never showed up in greater numbers.


    Somewhere in the distance, I heard my mother crying for help, choking on blood.


    I stabbed a nearby wretch and flung it away, panting from the effort, watching as it sank beneath the oily surface.@@@@


    "Is this still the right way?" Mari asked.


    "According to the blueprints, it''s a straight shot. We haven''t altered course," Maya said. She was leaning on her staff more than usual, using it for support. "Unless we somehow missed the tunnel."


    "Fuck!" Sera shouted in the distance. "Let go! Release me! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" The blood-curdling wail was so tormented and pained, it was barely recognizable.


    I held perfectly still, cocking my head, fighting the immediate urge to panic and forcing myself to listen. There was a distant sloshing, but nothing more. "Anyone else just hear Sera?"


    A few had. Other people reported hearing the voices of other banner lieutenants. The men in the back of our formation, apparently, kept hearing me, shouting at them in the distance for abandoning their commander, threatening charges of desertion if they didn''t report to their stations.


    "It''s scared," I announced derisively, trying to redirect their focus and raise morale. "Doing everything it can to drag us off course. If a command is given that directly contradicts existing orders, confirm it with caution. Especially if you cannot see the speaker."


    There was a collective acknowledgement, though from the look of it, fear was taking a toll.


    Maya fell in beside me, staff accenting every other step.


    "How are we doing?" I asked, watching her in my peripheral, rebuking the urge to look away from the dark expanse before us.


    "Could be worse," Maya surmised, not sounding particularly convinced.


    "But?"


    "At least six are nearly lost to us. Drooping eyes, uneven gait. Others not far behind. We are doing well, for the moment, but that will not hold if this turns into an engagement of attrition."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Keeping the pace.


    For fame and fortune forth we ride,


    With steel and courage at our side


    Let cowards in their chambers hide,


    While warriors grow bolder.


    The screaming grew louder. Something swiped at Mari from the shadows, leaving a thin line of steaming ichor she hastened to wipe off.


    But the soldiers kept the march. A man near the front belted out his own verse.


    Fuck the lithid, kill it dead.


    Run our blades through ¡®til it¡¯s bled.


    Then we''ll go and mount its head,


    In the victor''s hall!


    Despite the slightly awkward improvisation, the verse stuck. The men repeated it over and over, shouting it like a mantra, expressions resolute in unity and rebellion.


    Up ahead, the darkness widened, stretching out to either side. It had to be the rendezvous point.


    A curtain of smoke descended, creating yet another barrier.


    I called upon the mana polluted by sewage, filtering purity from filth and lined my sword with it, then flung aquatic blades at the smoke, as Zin had taught me. The first tore a crescent gape in the smoke, the second and third tearing the curtain until it was in roiling tatters, eventually falling away completely.


    We were through.


    There was a distant glow of lanterns from the left-hand side¡ªSera''s group, who''d arrive shortly after us.


    At first glance, the much wider, taller room was completely empty.


    Until the ceiling plunged down on us.

 Chapter 242: Fracture XLVII

    In the brief second I had before everything went to hell, staring at the descending darkness, my mind couldn''t quite make sense of it. It was too large to comprehend, a mass of black that spanned the entire ceiling, plunging like a headsman''s axe.


    Then it hit.


    The impact slammed me against the stone ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. There was an unquenchable reflex to gasp, but from the way the black ichor plied at my mouth, my nose, a single breath would be my last.


    I fought the urge, writhing beneath the endless mass until there was enough room to rotate off my back and onto my stomach. Palms flat against the slick stone I pushed, trying to get enough momentum to "swim" upward, but the ichor pressed down on the back of my neck, growing taut, attempting to keep me from rising.


    My skin burned, stinging and searing.


    It was a clever gambit. But an arrogant one. Subtlety had failed and now the thing was trying for brute force. The problem with that plan was that it was effectively putting its entire form¡ªor at least, a significant portion of it¡ªat risk, trying to snuff out its invaders all at once.


    Yet a submerged flame did not carry the same properties as an open one. Perhaps it was aware. Maybe the wretch believed that anyone it ensconced would be too concerned with self-preservation, considering the immediate and scalding consequences of super-heating a substance they were currently immersed in.


    It was wrong.


    I flooded mana through my chitinous arm, kept it low, away from the direction of the surface, called the spark, and boiled it.


    Surging stinging bubbles sizzled from beneath my hand. The arm alone was protected as the scalding ichor ravaged my shoulder and neck, the darkness recoiling in a movement that seemed very much like panic. The crushing weight on me lightened but held, refusing to release.


    I sent four more sparks out forming a tight, rectangular box around me, avoiding anywhere there was movement¡ªlikely a member of my regiment¡ªand increasing their temperature gradually. Pouring everything I had into them would likely mean cooking myself alive, so in a way, this was a game of hubris. A question of who would break first.


    It spoke to me again, in its stolen voice.


    "This opposition is pointless. It will bring your end and little else. Is killing yourself truly preferable to living out the meticulous fantasy I crafted for you?"


    I fed more mana to the sparks, raising the temperature. My skin felt painfully astrictive, inflexible.


    Yes.


    The ichor pressed down harder on my back, attempting to force me down, break my concentration.


    "Why?"


    The spasms in my lungs grew more severe, tightening, even as I fought to suppress the urges. It wouldn''t be long now. I forced more mana through the weave, raising the temperature of the spark in my hand simultaneously, preparing to bring all five to the highest temperature I could manage. It would likely be the end.


    Because I wish to live. Freely. This umbra of guilt and regret has haunted my footsteps for too long. It is done. I failed to save Lillian Gray. I was irresponsible, nai?ve, and reckless. But the hands that killed her were never mine. The time for grief is over. And I refuse to fail the living on account of the dead.


    Kneeling there, with my eyes closed tightly, I prepared for the end.


    "It''s easy to break the parasite''s connection before it fully sinks its fangs in." Maya looked down towards the recovered soldiers, still keeping the ichor at bay. She squinted in worry. "Mari was not so easy. And she was only out slightly longer than the men we just freed."


    I frowned, filling in the rest. Sevran and Zin were in the Lithid''s clutches since it first had me. And from its movements, it was clearly prioritizing them. "Doesn''t matter how long it takes. I''ll buy you time."


    "That''s not it." Maya grimaced. "Accessing another''s mind is delicate work. It must be done correctly to avoid leaving lasting mental injury, and doing it correctly is..."


    It snapped into place. The bags under her eyes, and the dip in her shoulders. She''d dipped into her mana pool aggressively, and now, it was taking its toll.


    "Exhausting." I filled in.


    She nodded unhappily.


    With the way things had shaken out, Maya was our point of vulnerability. If she fell, we all fell. I fished through my satchel, hastily going through the airtight apothecary compartment, fishing out a wad of vurseng. Maya took it and bit down, chewing aggressively, flagging slightly from the effort. I feared it wouldn''t be enough.


    "Is there anything I can do to help?"


    "No." She stopped, thought about it. "Maybe. I can open a connection to their minds easily enough. It is the traversal that is difficult."


    A possibility occurred. A fraction of a hope. "Can you hold the gate open and allow another to pass in your stead?"


    Maya weighed that idea, her face a flurry of expression as she worked it out. "Never tried. But, it''s possible. Opening the connection is the easiest part. That might be the only way we can save them both. It''s getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open."


    "Do it."


    "This will be difficult. It''s untested, and there''s danger to everyone involved."


    "We''re past that point. For that matter, you''ve never let me down before." I smiled, showing a brave face, even as the fear encroached.


    Maya barked a laugh. "No pressure."


    "None at all."


    "Very well."


    Maya placed a palm just above the bridge of Sevran''s nose, her eyes closed, focused. The verdant light intensified, growing brighter in the gloom, taking on a bluish, wispy hue. Her other hand, possessed with the same unfamiliar light, reached towards me slowly, the light within her palm almost blinding before her fingers stroked my forehead.


    The darkness took me.

 Chapter 243: Fracture XLVIII

    The nauseating stench of sewer dissolved into sulphur, then nothing. When sensation returned, it came wrong¡ªa sticky wetness beneath my fingertips, dense and pliant, with a slickness that turned my stomach. The air hung heavy, carrying neither sound nor warmth, as if the very atmosphere had been bled dry.


    Red stained earth stretched endlessly, boot prints telling the story of thousands¡ªyet not a single body remained. Only parts: a severed arm here, an emaciated eye there, each fragment a grotesque reminder of what was missing. The eye, gray and lifeless, stared up from its nest of churned mud as I passed, my boots struggling to find purchase in the treacherous ground. Each step threatened to pull me under, the earth itself seeming to hunger for more casualties.


    I pressed forward through the desolation, my thoughts swimming against a current of confusion. The lithid''s veil had weakened, but its magic still wrapped around my mind like a thorned crown, each attempt at focus bringing fresh waves of doubt. Above, the sun hung suspended between existence and oblivion¡ªeither dawn or dusk, offering just enough light to illuminate the horror without providing any comfort of day.


    I was here¡ª Why was I here?


    Sevran and Zinn''s stricken faces surfaced through the mire of my thoughts, sharpening my purpose. Find them. Find them before the lithid could finish its feast. If this hallucination matched the depth and breadth of my previous entrapment, I faced wingspans of distance with precious little time. The monster had recreated an entire section of the capital with masterful detail¡ªthis wasteland could be equally vast.


    The terrain rolled out in every direction, each hill identical to the last, each valley promising only more desolation. Nothing broke the monotony of mud and blood and boot prints. No landmarks. No guidance. Nothing.


    This made no sense. The lithid had shown me a fantasy before¡ªa cruel reimagining of my life as it might have been. I''d expected similar torments for the others, but this? This was something else entirely.


    "Help... someone... help..."


    The voice barely existed, a ghost of sound carried on the barest whisper of wind. I stood motionless, waiting. It came again, and I followed, pausing between each repetition to confirm my course. The mud grew deeper as I trudged through an embankment, threatening to swallow my boots entirely.


    At first, I saw nothing. Then, like a painting emerging from fog, details assembled themselves: a mud-caked arm, the outline of armor, and finally, a face that stopped my heart mid-beat. Golden hair. Blue eyes. The visible half of his features¡ªthe side not completely coated in mud¡ªcould have been my own reflection, twisted by pain and desperation. The sigil of a broken tree marked his ruined armor as that of a Silver Sword.


    "Help..." His gauntleted hand reached toward me, trembling with the effort.


    I crouched beside him, wariness warring with compassion. My experience in the false Whitefall was still raw, still bleeding. "Rank and house, Silver Sword?"


    His eyes, bright with fever or fear, struggled to focus. When he spoke, his voice carried the hollow echo of a funeral bell. "There is no rank here..." A wet cough interrupted him. "And my house..." Bitter laughter dissolved into more coughing. "My house has forsaken me."


    I reached for my waterskin, watching the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Blood was already seeping through the mud caked on his right side, turning the brown to black. "I''m looking for two demi-humans," I said, holding the skin to his cracked lips. "An infernal and a dark elf. Mixed blood on the latter. Have you seen them?"


    He managed only a few swallows before pushing the water away. His mud-caked finger pointed up toward a barren slope, the gesture almost reverent. "Need to reach... the top."


    "What''s up there?" I asked, noting how his breathing grew more labored with each word.


    "I wonder." The voice took on an almost contemplative tone. "Will you remember my warning, when that moment comes? Will you return to seek my counsel? Leverage all those questions already bouncing around in your mind¡ª"


    "There will be no reunion." The words came out as a snarl. If the creature wanted to play mind games, it could work both ways. My father had taught me that sometimes, threats needed no subtlety. "Does it frighten you? The idea that after existing for centuries, perpetuating on, and on, and on, that it could all just come to a swift and bitter end. At the hands of mortals, no less. All because you underestimated your enemy out of hubris." I let out a harsh laugh. "What a fool."


    The grip on my shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. I didn''t bother hiding my smile.


    "Do you know what else is amusing?" The voice dropped to a whisper, somehow more threatening in its quietness.


    "I''m sure you''ll tell me."


    "You saw it coming."


    My knee buckled, sending me down into the mire.


    A dark chuckle followed. "Oh yes. For the part of your mind that wanders to the darkest possibilities and most frightening outcomes, Lillian Gray''s death at the hands of the arch-mage was well-tread territory. But you pushed it away."


    "Because it wasn''t rational," I growled, mud squelching between my fingers as I tried to right myself. "It was the same sort of fear a child has for their parents, terror that they might be attacked by the imaginary monsters that lurk in the dark. It was never supposed to happen. That it even did required a degree of pettiness I mistakenly believed Thoth to be above."


    "Isn''t it ironic?" The lithid''s voice dripped with false sympathy. "The torment, the violent death, all occurring with the oh-so-unfortunate timing that even someone with your divine gift cannot reach. Awful. Horrific." Its breath brushed my ear like winter frost. "Yet regarding the potential maligned fates of Miss Gray, it was only the second worst thing you could think of."


    Rage exploded through me. I lashed out blindly, my left arm slicing through empty air where I thought the creature stood. The lack of impact sent me stumbling, barely maintaining my grip on my burden, who stirred and moaned at the sudden movement.


    "Stop hiding behind riddles and speak plainly!" I shouted into the desolation. Only silence answered.


    "The gate..." the soldier in my arms whispered, urgency raw in his fading voice.


    "Right." I adjusted my grip and pressed on.


    At the summit, two figures waited. They stood like ancient monoliths, weapons planted in the blood-soaked earth around them, their shadows stretching long and dark across the ruined ground as if reaching out to draw us in.

 Chapter 244: Fracture XLIX

    They were watchmen. Zinn and Sevran both. I recognized it in their stances, their expressions. The way their posture carried the essence of beleaguered sentries who''d suddenly stood at attention, alert faces and stoic brows masking lapses of boredom, moments before. What they guarded was obvious enough. It appeared to be a dimension gate, nearly identical to the artifact housed beneath the Infernal Enclave. The dwarven inscription and craftsmanship was missing, but the towering shape, and lightly thrumming membrane were immediately recognizable.


    Why they were guarding it¡ªand why guarding a gate in the middle of a barren wasteland would tempt them from their lives¡ªwas still impossible to say.


    As I crested the hill, the wounded man in my arms groaning from a mix of pain and relief, they stood to their feet, shifting unsteadily, as if awakening limbs that had slumbered for quite some time.


    From Sevran''s lack of recognition, it became obvious he''d forgotten me. Zinn''s demeanor was different - there was a knowing glint in his eye as he played along with the scenario the lithid had entrenched them in. "Do you wish to transcend?" Sevran extended a hand, palm up. He was adorned in regal armor that, while polished and resplendent, held an ancient quality, bronzed gold breastplate with a series of leather strips hanging from the bottom edge of the cuirass. I''d seen similar armor depicted in illustrations of books detailing ancient infernal spellswords, but in practice it was far more severe than the more fanciful interpretations.


    The man''s demeanor quieted, anxiety etched in his straining face. "Will it hurt?"


    "No more than it already has. Hard part''s over." Zinn stepped forward, a whirlwind of blue and turquoise mana actively weaving together in the palm of his hand.


    The man looked between Zinn and Sevran, then nodded.


    Zinn pressed the weaved spell against the man''s breastplate, where it flattened and expanded outward, covering the wound in his head with glowing energy, spreading all the way down to his missing leg, recreating a glowing, ghostly replacement for the limb. He waited a moment, then made a noise of approval and stepped back, eyeing me. "Should be alright now. Set him down."


    Carefully, I lowered the man''s legs to the mud, supporting him from behind as he regained his balance, watching with wonder as he adjusted to the magical prosthetic.


    "What is your name?" Sevran asked.


    "Phillip." The man answered.


    "And where do you hail from, Phillip?"


    "The Dagathi Wetlands."


    Sevran''s eyes traveled from the man''s face, to the leather carrier on his shoulder. "Ah, I remember. It''s not every day I have the pleasure of observing a spearman of your abilities, let alone one loyal enough to travel hundreds of wingspans to answer the King''s call. You fought well."


    There was an awkward silence as Phillip stared at the ground. "You''re mistaken, commander."


    "Am I?" Sevran raised an eyebrow.


    The man shifted in the mud, staring downward, frustrated in his recollection. "All that training for nothing. Whole life spent swinging a sharpened stick around only to stick a few of ''em before they tripped, trampled, and ripped me to pieces."


    "Did you stick ''em with the pointy end?" Zinn asked.


    The man glanced at him, perplexed. "Of course."


    "And despite being gravely outnumbered, you stood and brought arms against the enemy, sparing no consideration of your own fate?" Sevran asked.


    "I did, commander." The man smiled bitterly, tears glimmering in his eyes.


    "Then you fought well." Sevran told him, proffering his arm again. This time the man took it, and Sevran pulled him into an embrace. "Well done."


    Zinn retrieved a stone slab from his satchel, jotting the man''s name upon it and then waiting expectantly. When the soldier seemed lost, he cleared his throat. "I''ll need the names of your next of kin, and the individuals you''d like your stipend disbursed to."


    "Of course. My father and sister are all I have. Should be easy enough to find, they work out of the same tailor shop..." The man continued, listing the names of his loved ones, and giving directions for the payout of his service fund. As he spoke, Zinn grew more withdrawn, the embodiment of quiet frustration, clearly torn between maintaining the facade and breaking character entirely. Sevran remained unflappable, picking up Zinn''s slack without so much as an aggrieved look.


    Zinn fidgeted. "And when they''re notified, what would you like us to tell them?"


    "Oh." Phillip paused, thinking the question over for a long time before he answered. "I guess... don''t bother mourning. Because I''m kicking around in Valhalla, now. I''ll save them a place in the Elysian halls whenever they''re ready to make their own way. But not anytime soon. Not for a good long while. Tyrie still needs to live, experience life away from the shop. And... uh... the old man''s got too many years in him to even think about it. Don''t hold onto the gold outta guilt, either. Spend it on renovations. Fix the damn floor already. If you have any left over, buy some cheese, maybe a little wine. Eat, imbibe. Celebrate that I finally fuckin'' did something with my life.¡±


    Zinn''s expression grew darker. His pen had stopped halfway through Phillip''s message, and his shoulders were shaking.


    Smoothly, as if it was rehearsed, Sevran stepped in front of him, offering Phillip his arm. The soldier took it for support as they strode towards the portal, conversing quietly, leaving Zinn and I alone.


    My banner lieutenant stared at me with something approaching hostility, giving the impression he was displeased with my continued presence. "Do you wish to transcend?"


    No. Obviously not. But the words died in my throat, definitive yet unutterable. My many deaths stretched outward in my mind''s eye. Skewered, shot, burned alive, or sundered limb from limb. No matter what it was, it never stuck. Supposedly there was a limit. But I was beginning to wonder if the magic that fueled the reversals would outlast the integrity of my mind and soul.


    "It isn''t my time." I finally said.


    "Maybe you can get through to him, then." Zinn cocked his head.


    "What does that mean?"


    "Naivety." Sevran returned, regal bearing slightly relaxed now that the man had departed, jutting a finger in my direction. "He has yet to realize the obvious."


    I nodded along, taking in this new side of Sevran for the first time. "About me?"


    Not trusting myself to push Sevran anymore without losing my temper, I approached Zinn from the side where he could see me. "Here for the same reason he is?"


    "Not exactly," Zinn said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I''ve been aware for a while now. Sevran pulled me out of the initial delusion, but when he refused to leave himself..." He glanced at the infernal. "Well, someone had to stay and watch over him until you showed up."


    "I appreciate the loyalty." I said, studying the distraught infernal from a distance.


    "Not sure my efforts did him any good." Zinn swiped downward at full speed.


    "Mine neither." I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose, trying to come up with a solution. "To be honest, this is unexpected. Do you know anything about him I don''t?"


    "Well..." Zinn gave Sevran a long look. "There''s not a lot to know, outside his military accomplishments. He... uh... makes a lot of house calls, checking on the wounded or men out for special circumstances. Despite his respectable appearance, when the men go celebrating¡ªor commiserating¡ªhe''s always the last to leave the pubs. That makes him sound like a lush, but it''s not like that. The spadetail can stretch a beer for hours.¡±


    "That doesn''t¡ª" I trailed off, as a certain familiarity struck me. "How long since he''s visited family in the Enclave?"


    "Not since I''ve known him. A little strange, but not uncommon. Sends them gold frequently."


    Because the most reasonable thing a person who believes themselves to be cursed can do, is avoid any possibility of bringing misfortune to their loved ones.


    It was all so familiar.


    "Can you find your way back? They need you out there."


    Zinn leaned to the side to get a look at Sevran. "What about him?"


    "I''ll take care of it." When Zinn didn''t move, I tried again. "Trust me, lieutenant."


    My banner lieutenant hesitated, then sheathed his blade and held a fist to his chest in salute. He faded from existence slowly, small, fingertip sized pieces of him flaking away like ash.


    I approached Sevran, circling while he remained static. "Immortality is such a god''s damned bother, isn''t it?"


    His expression didn''t go blank, and his eyes still tracked me as I approached the gate, searching its pearlescent depths. Good. Whether it was because we were in a shared dream, or my wording didn''t technically refer to my actual resurrections, the typical failsafe didn''t trigger. "I... was under the impression that was a rumor. Mythmaking. That you were simply in hiding and the stories of your death were overblown."


    A bitter chuckle escaped me. "No. Unfortunately, the blades and magic that disemboweled me were very real. As was the sword that severed my connection to that mortal shell."


    "Stop. You shouldn''t say anymore." Sevran interjected suddenly, eyes darting back and forth, searching for ears unseen. "Not here."


    "It doesn''t matter. The lithid already knows everything. Or at least, enjoys pretending it does." I flipped the raven to the sky and lowered my arm, scowling. "I understand how it feels to remain, when everyone around you is slipping away. To survive death and find it wanting. To fail and have others pay the toll. To hate yourself for what you couldn''t do, sparing no kindness or consideration for what you''ve achieved."


    "Most would consider such a condition an improvement on the norm." Sevran led, testing me.


    "They are fools."


    His jaw worked. "So you do understand."


    I nodded.


    "For as long as I can remember, a dream has plagued me. I find myself alone in a wasteland, in the eye of a blizzard. There''s no one living. Only bodies. No matter how far I walk, or how loudly I call, no one responds. No one is left." He recounted with muted dread.


    "The end of all things." I replied. The details were different, but similar nightmares came to me often. "There''s much at stake. Most of it beyond my control. I will fight like all the hells to protect this regiment, and Uskar beyond it. That doesn''t mean we''ll win. But if the worst happens, and the future we both fear comes to pass, I''ll make you a promise. You will not wander that wasteland alone."


    Sevran stared at me, wonder and disbelief warring in equal measure until he suddenly barked a laugh. "I''ve never met another foolish enough to claim he cannot meet his end."


    "Then we are both fools."


    "Bound by the stupidity of fate."


    A smile played across my face, springing up unbidden. Sevran looked so unburdened, the sense of relief palpable. It didn''t matter that the promise was one-sided. That if Ragnarok came to pass, it would likely be me trudging alone through the blizzard, world crashing down around me. In that moment, bringing him peace brought me a fraction of the same. It was enough for now.


    There was a pause, and the Sevran looked around. "How did Zinn exit so easily?"


    I thought on that. "His trial was over. He was only staying behind for you. If it''s anything like mine, the key to breaking out is doing something drastic, carrying out an action or making a decision you wouldn''t typically consider."


    "Well." Sevran turned back towards the gate. "It''s rather obvious when you put it like that." He turned back to me and smiled. "Shall we?"


    We walked together through the gate, light burning away our surroundings until there was nothing left.


    The blotted meadows faded away to the stench of sewer, quiet solitude crescendoing to the sounds of battle and someone screaming in my ear.

 Chapter 245: Fracture L

    "Lieutenant down!" The scream cut through another fading vision as I hauled the bleary-eyed soldier to his feet, forcing his shield back into trembling hands. The stench of sewage and fear mingled in the stale air, making each breath a struggle. Maya gripped my arm tightly as we traversed toward the yelling, her fingers digging into my flesh¡ªhalf for support, half to keep herself upright. Her pulse hammered visibly in her neck, eyes distant and unfocused like a woman walking through a dream.


    "How much longer?" The words came out harder than intended, rough with concern.


    "As long as I am needed." Maya slapped herself across the face, forcing her mind to rouse. The impact left another mark among the constellation of red welts already decorating her cheek. It was wishful thinking at best. The long nights we''d spent in study and travel meant I was familiar with her mannerisms, the subtle tells in how she composed herself. She balanced precariously on the edge of sleep now, her eyes half-lidded, the effects of the adrenaline fading every time she slowed down to use her magic.


    The battle echoed through the tunnel''s curved walls, a cacophony of steel and desperation that somehow meant we were holding our ground¡ªfor now. Zinn and Sevran both had revived with a vengeance, attacking the lithid''s writhing tendrils and driving the shadow monster back with an uncharacteristic ferocity. To this point, they¡¯d both been the stoic sort of warriors, emotionless until the battle was over. It went without saying that their visions had cut as deeply and as personally as mine had.


    But even with their contributions, it was a battle of attrition.


    The lithid had abandoned its previously selective strategy for a more scattershot approach. An approach that appeared to be working. For every man that we revived, two surrendered to the dark, dropping where they stood, strewn across the sidings or directly into the sewage. The fetid water swallowed them whole, threatening to drag them beneath its murky surface.


    I closed my eyes, accepting the reality of what I was seeing. Even if Maya had the stamina of a goddess we''d be beaten on numbers alone. And once she fell, we were truly lost. "Do we play this out?"


    "In lieu of what?" Maya spoke through gritted teeth, her words barely audible over the clash of steel and screams.


    "A reset."


    She paused at that, glancing at the inscriptions on my neck before she shook her head vehemently. "I hate it when you kill yourself."


    "Not exactly something I look forward to."


    Her chest heaved as she coughed, lungs rejecting the dour air, and she wiped her mouth with a forearm. The motion left a dark smear across her skin. "Maybe it''s terrible of me. Selfish. Making you face the bitter end of this when you''re the only one who bears the weight of remembering it." She yelped as a tendril lashed out from a nearby scuffle, carving into her side. The shadow appendage moved like liquid smoke, leaving devastation in its wake. "Bastard. It''s... it''s my life too. All our lives. If we fail with no recourse, do what you must. But I want to try."


    "Okay." My resolve hardened. The wound in her side was deep, flesh flayed too widely to be left alone. Blood mixed with the sewage at our feet, creating swirling patterns in the murk. "Can you even afford to heal that with the mirror?"


    Maya did a double-take, reexamining the wound, as if she hadn''t registered how deep it was and prodded at it, biting her lip. After a moment she shook her head. "Not without risk. The arch-fiend warned it would drain more mana than before."


    You won''t make it through another revival.


    Instead of saying it out loud, I told her to hold the wound closed and breathe deeply, then sealed it with a spark. The acrid smell of cauterized flesh joined the miasma of the sewers.


    A small group of soldiers were protecting Aetherya, their Elven lieutenant trapped and bound by a dozen tendrils of darkness. The shadows writhed around her like living rope, each tendril pulsing with malevolent purpose.


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    I delved into her mind. Unlike the others, it never truly became apparent what she was frightened of. I found her taking shelter in a house, the sky a sea of crimson, leering faces above her. The sight was terrifying, but with coaxing, and repeated oaths to several deities that I was in fact who I claimed to be, she woke.


    The next man, a soldier frightened for the health of his sickly wife. I was able to identify some of her symptoms, promised she''d receive treatment and care.


    Then we moved on to the next.


    And the next.


    And the next.


    And even so, Maya did not fall. Every time she came close, a frantic energy seemed to surge within her, granting another wind. There was a moment I believed that she never would¡ªthat through some miracle of stubbornness and willpower and the grace of the gods she would remain conscious, obdurate and unyielding.


    She might have. But there was a soldier who all but refused to crawl out of a cupboard, a place I gathered she''d once been locked up during her childhood. She was clever in a way that worked against her, suspecting me from the moment I tried to open the doors and resisting until I finally pointed out enough inconsistencies to fracture the ruse.


    It took a great deal of time. Time Maya simply didn''t have.


    When I roused, there was an undercurrent of terror clawing at my chest. A nearby soldier¡ªone of several escorting us around the battlefield and defending while we were vulnerable¡ªhad caught her before she tipped over into the canal. Her breathing was gentle, her brow furrowed, small whimpers of fear escaping tight lips.


    The soldier looked to me with dawning horror, his face pale beneath the grime of battle. "What... in the bloody hells do we do now?"


    His answer was written in the battle itself. Attrition had taken its toll, and the tide was already turning. The number of soldiers still on the battlefield had been cut down by half. Mari and Zinn had clustered together in an attempt to spearhead the defense and rally the remaining forces. A few arm-spans away, Sera and Aetherya were holding up similarly, though they seemed more frantic in their efforts, each bleeding heavily from the effect of heavy wounds.


    Only Sevran stood alone, his spear a cyclone of intentional violence, shredding wide swaths of shadow, its glittering tip carving through tendrils as he danced in the muck. He was the very picture of mastery and elegance, even surrounded by chaos and death.


    But one man could not snatch victory from defeat. That was the nature of warfare.


    I touched Maya''s cheek with my glove, feeling my heart shred as she turned her face into it, seeking comfort while still mired in troubled sleep. "It''s about that time, Ni¡¯lend"


    It''s my life too. All our lives. If we fail with no recourse, do what you must. But I want to try.


    It was loud, chaotic. The din of battle and screams of fear bordered on deafening. With that in mind I leaned down to whisper in her ear, as I had in my mother''s when she drifted from the mortal plane, praying to the dead gods that she might hear me. "There''s no way forward without your help. We need you. I need you."


    The shockwave hit before the sound of the explosion. I had long enough to realize that either intentionally or by accident, someone had lit a flame before a chunk of stone the size of my head slammed into my side. I felt my ribs flex, then snap, as the force of the impact sent me careening into the sidewall, landing with a groan.


    It was suddenly difficult to breathe, excruciating, a wheezing whistle escaping from me, worsening with every exhale. I crawled my way back towards her, resisting the urge to submit, flood my inscriptions with mana and be done with it.


    Mirroring what she''d done for so many others, I removed my glove and gently placed my fingertips on her forehead, speaking to her all the while. "Let me help."


    A small groan accompanied the smallest shake of her head.


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    "It''s not my magic, Maya. It''s yours. I can''t do this alone, you need to make the connection. Let me in."


    Another noise of discomfort, another jerk of her head. The ground shuddered, the sewer itself quaked as a plume of dust descended, cutting the already limited visibility down by half. The air grew thick with particles, each breath becoming more labored than the last.


    Words spilled from me in a desperate flood, each memory of her story¡ªthe Sanctum, Ozra''s words, her tears in the castle¡ªtumbling out in a frantic attempt to reach her. "It doesn''t matter. Whatever it is, it won''t matter. It won''t ruin things or change my perception. After this, if you want, we never have to speak of it again. Just let me help. Share the burden."


    There was no response. Far as I knew, she probably couldn''t even hear me. Around us the shadows grew thicker and more numerous, writhing with malevolent purpose. It wouldn''t be long now.


    Then all at once, the sewer fell away.

 Chapter 246: Fracture LI

    A frantic pounding consumed me, each impact reverberating through my skull with enough force to pop my ears, leaving me momentarily deaf. Through the lingering ring, I caught a voice with an unsettling cadence. Though the words blurred together, the rising panic in its tone spoke clearly enough: immediate threat.


    Naturally, I crawled in that general direction.


    Our surroundings were... domestic. Rural isolation pressed in from all sides. Through the disorientation of waking in an entirely different space and time, a sense of creeping familiarity cut through the fog. The dread it carried had nothing to do with the din or the shouting voice.


    I hauled myself up using the corner of a low table, its legs wobbling against a thin rug near the fireplace. The surface held only a small gray cloth and a jade bowl, yet even these sparse elements stirred something in my memory, an echo I couldn''t quite place.


    "For the love of the gods, help me with this door, child!" The voice pierced through the window, its urgency barely muffled by the wall between us.


    Somehow I knew he was talking to me. I jarred myself from the fugue, tearing my eyes from the bowl illuminated by the roaring fire, and threw open the cabin''s door. The surrounding trees towered high enough to blot out the remaining dusk sun, leaving only daggers of light piercing through small openings in the copse. My dark robe¡ªapparently, I was wearing a robe¡ªtrailed behind me as I crunched through grass in the direction of the voice, fighting the sense of dreadful nostalgia all the while.


    A man donning a similar robe was laying atop a double cellar door, arms spread wide as if imparting an oversized embrace. From the sweat on the back of his neck and total absence of dignity in the pose, at first glance, I might have assumed him drunk.


    CRACK


    The man grunted as both cellar doors were battered outward, jostling him enough that, for a moment, his sandal-clad feet left the ground. He turned his head, facing me for the first time, visage red with effort. His voice was oddly high, as if a merge between male and female. "Better late than never. Now¡ª" There was another loud crack, and he struggled to hold on. Even as he held on, he shouted through the crack. "He''s already here, fiend."


    Against all odds, this actually seemed to work. Instead of continuing to barrage the door, the creature within roared an angry retreat, its inhuman voice growing more distant.


    The man in the robe gestured towards the grass to the side of the cellar. A long High Steel chain snaked through the grass, untethered. "Quick. Help me secure this before it comes back."


    I picked up the chain, giving it an idle swing. "What''s in there?"


    He stared at me as if that was a particularly stupid question. "The monster we made."


    Ah.


    Understanding, and the associated coldness it imparted, swept over me in a moment of frigid clarity. The angle of the delusion, and the purpose it intended to play out. I approached with the chain, intentionally keeping it out of reach as I calculated how to proceed, playing out the moment. "So we attach the chain, then what? All the roaring isn''t for show. She sounds beyond anger."


    "I believe it is time to deploy countermeasures. Not my preference, but it is better to suffer a minor setback if it means preserving our own lives." Barion still clung to the doorframe tightly.


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    I nodded along, as if it made perfect sense. And in a maneuver I had fantasized about pulling countless times after the tranquility of that fated clearing in the Everwood faded to chaos, I reached over and, as if brushing the dirt from his garment, set his robe on fire.


    He screamed, jumping away from the cellar door, monster forgotten as he slapped at the growing violet flames, attempted to strip off the garment, failed, then eventually fell to the ground and settled on rolling erratically. I kept the spark lit and withdrew a pipe already loaded with Vurseng from my satchel. It seemed the lithid''s delusions often drew wholesale from memory, complete with extraneous detail¡ªsuch as the pipe.


    I took a long drag, not bothering to look at the quickly darkening corpse, though the way its head turned unnaturally to stare at me while it spoke was not lost on me. "It was difficult to create this vessel."


    "And?"


    "You wasted it." The lithid finished, accusation heavy in its voice. "I prepared for the intrusion this time, and you still wasted it."


    "A middling effort. Barion never meant much to me. And that was before we parted. Even now, it could be argued that by wearing his face, you''re doing me a favor." I struggled to stay still.


    "Would you like to know why I selected this place?"


    The answer was a profound no. I held more interest in the Panthanian practice of racing oversized birds than the inner workings of the lithid''s mind. Purely by process of elimination, I was pretty sure that was Maya in the cellar, and from the sound of it, she wasn''t quite Maya anymore.


    "I''m still not sure it was worth the price I paid."


    As I would have preferred to disregard the lithid entirely and rush down to Maya, it had stupidly informed me it had my interference in mind. Which meant that might be exactly what it wanted.


    "Tell me," I commanded, with an utter lack of enthusiasm. "From where I''m standing it makes little sense, if your intention was to keep her placated and contained. She hated this place. We both did."


    The lithid chuckled, body juddering as it remained afire on the ground. "It was quite rude what she did. Even under the guise of warfare. The simple, human equivalent would be if you''d just sat down at a table after slaving for hours to prepare a meal, and some undesirable kept coming in and snatching the food from your mouth, just before you dug in." It chuckled again. "So you understand why I''d be motivated to make this particularly unpleasant for someone who posed such a thorn in my side."


    Wood cracked beneath my fingertips. "You changed her."


    "Oh, no." Its chuckle grew into a wretched laugh. "I didn''t change her at all. I simply took a peek into her mind and arranged the circumstances. It was the noble prince of Whitefall that abandoned the girl for her own good. Stayed away even long after his enemy was gone, for fear of the augury, terrified that the slightest lapse could signal his enemy''s return. Saved her life by draining the soul from her slowly. All I did was return her to what she truly is, beneath the glamour. And warned her you were coming, of course." It rolled in laughter, still aflame.


    When it finally clicked, I grimaced at the cruelty and looked down, absorbing the blow. "She didn''t let me in to this place at all, did she?"


    "If you truly believed the ardor you held for each other manifested in the arcane, you''ve read far too many stories." The lithid laughed. Its shrill ecstasy reached a fever pitch, echoing across the ethereal plain until it finally died. When I finally looked over to ascertain why it''d fallen quiet, I found it studying me, a thoughtful expression on its charred face. "It''s strange, the way you feel about Barion. The place of malice he holds in your mind. For all his crimes he never accomplished what he intended. Creating a monster. Where he failed, you''ve already created two."


    I walked over to the immolated corpse, stepping on his head, pressing the heel of my boot down directly on the jaw until something cracked. It made a pained noise. I leaned down and whispered, "Inviting me here? Was hubris." There was another crack, and its bones creaked, lending a strange sensation as the flesh quickly knit and the bones tried to set themselves. "Assuming she''d buckle once you revealed her shame? Also hubris." I pressed harder until it snapped. The lithid didn''t attempt to speak or communicate. It just glared at me as I turned and approached the cellar.


    "Maya? I''m coming down." I paused, waiting for anything. An invitation, or warning to stay away. When neither came, I descended the long span of stairs, just as I had ages ago.

 Chapter 247: Fracture LII

    Maya''s retelling had been laced with warnings, each word leading to this moment. She''d described how completely she''d lost herself in the sanctum¡ªhow reason, morality, and even her very personhood had abandoned her. I trusted her completely. But if she''d been returned to what she transformed into in the sanctum, caution was warranted nonetheless. I wasn''t sure what would happen if she lashed out¡ªif a lethal blow would actually end my life or further obfuscate the delusion, making it more difficult to crack.


    Either way, it was better to avoid escalating out of turn. Maya was resilient. But I''d gotten the sense many times that the series of events that carried her through my absent years had yet to heal¡ªand in terms of healing, the wounds had barely even scabbed over.


    This needed to be delicate.


    I stepped down into the subterranean, stomach churning with every step, lilting fear steeped in a macabre nostalgia. The basement was much as I remembered it. Gore-soaked stones stretched before me, viscera scattered like fallen leaves across a forest floor. Deep geometric grooves carved the ground into tiles beneath my boots, each channel directing thin crimson streams toward rusted grates that gaped like hungry mouths in the darkness. The constant dripping and underground setting lent the sense of being in a cave, though I knew for a fact the vaguely column-like figures hanging in the periphery of my vision weren''t the rock formations my mind wished them to be.


    The dim torch at the foot of the stairs didn''t illuminate much. It was too dark to make out anything beyond a few hand-span before me, save the looping pattern of jagged writing on the wall, writing I was almost certain hadn''t been there before.


    But I could sense it. A presence in the shadows before me. Ethereal fingers scratching lightly at the back of my skull, a barely perceptible confirmation that the darkness I stared into was not empty, but occupied.


    "M¡ª"


    The moment I made a sound, there was a disturbance.


    The slightest displacement in the air.


    Behind me, the torch went out.


    As the darkness grew more complete, a feeling of coolness settled over my neck. My prodding fingers found a slick wetness below my throat, along with the thin line of a shallow cut. Something had cut me and quenched the torch in the same split-second motion.


    Not an attack. A warning.


    I looked down, keeping my eyes trained on the stone. "It''s too dark to make out any detail. You''re safe."


    "LEAVE."


    The second impact¡ªso quick it felt like a stinging slap¡ªleft a stinging line across my chest, the resulting cutting deeper than before.


    Beyond the pain, it was the immediacy of the retribution that gave me pause. Maya was slow to anger. Slower still to escalate to violence. She was capable of it, and would inevitably change tact if her life or the lives of those around her were threatened, but that wasn''t the case here. The response here felt out of hand. Again, I was missing something, just like with Sevran and Zinn.


    I pressed the lower section of torn robe against the wound, hissing as it soaked up the blood. "If I knew your predilections ran in this direction, I might have advised other, more enjoyable ways of making your mark."


    A wisp of air was all the warning I had before something darted out of the darkness. Unlike the previous iterations it was a blunt instrument that slammed against my chest, bruising my ribs and sending me stumbling backwards until I tripped over a stair, barely breaking what would have been an unpleasantly painful fall.


    "Ow." I said, intending something else before the complaint slipped out, my mind too stuck on the sudden tightness in my chest. "Why are we attacking me, exactly?"


    "Why are you here?" The voice was harsh, bestial, tinged with loathing, seeming to come from everywhere at once. "You''ve spoken your peace. Made more than enough observations and comparisons to make a lasting impression."


    "But I haven''t..." I trailed off, mid-sentence, as the reality of the situation slowly dawned. "How much time has passed?"


    There was no answer.


    I tried again. "How many times have I come to see you?"


    It took a long time for her to answer, and when she did, her voice was heavy with suspicion. "Were you always aware of the repetition?"


    "Just... for the sake of expediency, give me your best answer."


    "Endlessly." For the first time, the voice was quiet. Barely more than a whisper. "There is no measurement of agony. Always the same way. Proudly announcing that Barion was gone, that you killed him. That its really you, and whatever happened before was nothing more than a nightmare. Promising me it would be different. And like a fool, every time I trusted you. Showed myself to you. And you laughed."


    Damn it. I fought the urge to break my fist on the nearby wall and sat down on the stairs, steepling my fingers and resting my chin on them. It wasn''t difficult to fill in the blanks. Though the full picture infuriated me. I''d been able to break out of my own trial easily enough because, to some extent, I was too introspective. I''d been hearing Lillian''s voice in my head since the day she was taken. It was familiar. Intimate. Questioning, but never spiteful. A reflection of my own conscience. A manifestation of guilt. When the Lithid used that same voice and added its own malevolent edge, the difference was glaringly clear.


    The lithid could access memories, twist them to its advantage. But in truth, many of my genuine memories of Lillian had already long since faded, been filled in and reinterpreted by the saccharine filter of regret and nostalgia.


    Alternatively, it had plenty of far more recent, far more vividly accurate memories of me and the way I interacted with Maya. If it wanted to do an impression, it could manage a damn good one. Was this fixable? Would she ever even be able to look at me the same way¡ª


    I shook my head, clearing the errant thought. There would always be doubts. Fears. In this moment, it didn''t matter what Maya thought of me. She could have stated plainly, with no room for equivocation, that she hated me with the wrath of the lord below and that proclamation wouldn''t make a speck of difference. Because as long as she remained in here, she was in danger.


    The problem was, the Lithid had played its hand well. By drawing inspiration from our shared history¡ªthe looping¡ªonly it twisted the premise into something that eroded our trust through destructive repetition. Going out of my way to prove that I wasn''t the lithid''s construct and frantically attempting to establish myself was my first instinct¡ªwhich unfortunately meant it was the wrong one.


    "Hungry?"


    "...What?" She sounded confused. Which was positive. The lithid had access to nearly endless information, but it was also fighting for its life, entrenched on multiple fronts. It couldn''t possibly cover everything.


    "Are you in need of sustenance?" I clarified.


    "I... can''t remember the last time I ate." Maya admitted. A low growl accompanied the statement, one that, unlike the others, had little to do with intimidation.


    Rising to my feet and wincing a bit as the adhering flesh from the cut on my chest parted from the motion, I checked my pockets and satchel. What was currently on my person was consistent with the time at Barion''s cottage, where I had, mostly, been destitute. The only implement of use was a small apothecary''s knife. I pushed mana through the primary leyline in my arm and found a small tuft of violet fire dancing on my palm. It was enough.


    "I''ll be back soon."


    /////


    Soon, as it so often happened, took far longer than I''d prefer.


    The lithid made no tangible effort to obstruct me. But there was a suspicious absence of game around the immediate proximity of the cabin. What little quarry remained was tense and hyper-vigilant. A misplaced breath and the rabbits fled, and the slightest brush of foliage sent the dark-coated deer chasing after them. Hunting in the lithid''s Everwood was more difficult than hunting prey in the sanctum by an order of magnitude.


    Still, the time I''d spent alone, surviving day by day was not wasted. I eventually found a stag drinking from a brook. Its many-pointed antlers twitched at the slightest noise, and it raised its head several times as I approached. Twice, it looked directly up into the canopy I was hidden in, leaving me certain it would flee, only to return to the brook.


    In a less than graceful landing, I descended atop it, the force of my landing stunning it for long enough to for the small apothecary''s knife to find purchase in several arteries. I used vines to tie together a series of sturdy branches, creating a makeshift sled, which I used to drag the undressed carcass behind me. The hunt had presented an opportunity to retreat and gather my thoughts. And now that I had, I was almost certain this was more complicated than it appeared to be.


    Maya had a strange relationship with power. One that, in many ways, set her apart.


    The first step remained the same, regardless. I needed to establish trust. Difficult under the circumstances, but not impossible, especially with our shared history.


    After what felt like an hour¡ªthough with the lithid''s influence, it was impossible to say how long had passed¡ªI descended the stairs of the cellar again, deer carcass slung over my shoulder. Experiencing the same feeling of being observed from the shadows, I pushed the bounty into the dark, and took several steps back.


    "Will this suffice? I can prepare it however¡ª" Before I could say more, I felt the same displacement in the air and flinched. Instead of another bleeding lash, the form of the deer at my feet was suddenly yanked away, its fur brushing the stone until it was suddenly lifted, and silent.


    With that sorted, I returned to my place on the stairs, waiting, as the sound of teeth and gnashing jaws tickled that old familiar fear in my mind that Kastramoth had planted there all those years ago.


    "This is difficult." I started, and stopped again, as the sound of eating paused. "When this... happened... before, and someone who appeared to be me approached you, what method did I use to lure you out?"


    "You informed me this was all a hallucination. That we were in imminent danger the longer I stayed, and the lithid was using our shared history to manipulate me into staying in hiding. That you didn''t care what I''d done to myself, that we''d already had this conversation, and that the fears I held were foolish." The hurt grew heavy in her voice, weighed down by anger and betrayal.


    Bastard.


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. "And then I mocked you."


    "That is an understatement." Her voice grew distorted, venomous. "You laughed at me. For believing in the possibility you would understand. For daring to hope anyone would understand. Because who could? The thing I turned myself into was an embarrassment to you. How it was good that Nethtari could never return to the surface again. Because if my mother had the misfortune of seeing me like this, she would die with shame."


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    Every accusation was a dagger to my heart. I tried to speak, failed, cleared my throat and tried again. "Does that... sound like me?"


    "Tried that angle before, too." Maya responded, her voice breaking. "Made a big deal of how out of character it was. Pointed out the inconsistencies until you finally coaxed me out..."


    "And did it all over again." I finished, feeling hope slip away. "Okay... let''s just step away from that topic for now. I get the feeling you''re likely tired of retreading it."


    "Yes."


    I flexed my fingers, glimpsing subtle movement behind them, deeper in the cellar, then forced myself to look up at the ceiling. "Uh. Have I tried pointing out how invaluable¡ª"


    "¡ªI was to the battle and that you can''t possibly beat the lithid without me?" The distorted voice finished.


    I nodded my head side to side, frustrated. "Alright, scratch that. Have I mentioned Kholis?"


    "Extensively and luridly."


    A thought occurred. "Have I ever seemed this out of sorts, or retrospective about what you may or may not have experienced?"


    "On the most recent iteration, yes." Maya answered plainly.


    "Damn." I steepled my fingers together and squeezed them until they turned white. There was a possibility. Something that might work. From the sound of it, the lithid''s initial impression of me was passive, overly comforting and kind. From a bastard''s point of view it was an effective strategy. Maya was unaccustomed to kindness, especially when it came from those outside her family. The lithid had already plucked all the low-hanging fruit there. All that was left was directness.


    "Have I asked what this is really about?"


    I waited, letting the words sink in. The silence stretched on for so long I thought she might not answer.


    "What do you mean?" Maya asked, sounding more like herself than she had from the beginning, caution aside.


    "Exactly what it sounds like." I responded, not missing a beat. "Because we''re cut from the same cloth. I have a hard time believing you would give up this way. No matter how many times you were shamed or confronted. You''re too strong for that. You always were. And if there was the slightest chance stepping into the light would free you from this place, get you back into veritable shit where people are relying and depending on you, I believe you would always take that chance. No matter how unpleasant the alternative. So what are we really doing here?"


    "You''re mistaken."


    "Am I?" I rose to my feet, watching as the darkness shrunk back. "Because it''s been a while, but I''ve seen this before. In the Sanctum, when the goddess gave you the trial. To this day, since we were reunited, I''ve never seen you manifest the demon flame. Twice you developed power¡ªincredible power out of your own potential¡ªtwice you''ve shunned it. Am I wrong in seeing the connection here?"


    "Is this some new cruelty? Goading me into voicing what you already know to be true?" Her distorted voice sounded distant, as if she''d moved further away.


    "I want to understand, so I can help you."


    "It''s... ugly."


    I breathed a long sigh. "It doesn''t matter how you look. This is a hallucination. Not to mention I doubt the lithid''s interpretation is adequate, let alone kind."


    "You''re not listening." Maya shouted, my hair stirring from the sudden shift in pressure. Blood trickled from one of my ears. "You want the truth? Fine. What happened to me is fitting. I am reprehensible, vile, and low. I am ugly, Cairn. Inside and out."


    "Why?"


    "I cannot explain it."


    "Then try, Maya. Because we have no actual awareness of how much time is actually passing in here. All we can say for certain is that the longer we stay, the more advantage we cede to the enemy."


    "Suffice it to say I should not be trusted."


    "Unfortunately, that won''t suffice."


    "It must."


    "How do you imagine this plays out?" I broke from the bickering, doing the best I could to suppress my growing frustration and argue rationally. "That I just... take your word for it? Wash my hands of responsibility and let you expire after everything we''ve been through? Because the second you''re lost to me, time will fold back on itself."


    "What¡ªno." She sounded genuinely unsettled, as if she hadn''t considered the possibility. More evidence of the lithid, meddling with her mind.


    "I''d burn a reset. Maybe more. As many as I need to."


    "Cairn, stop."


    "Sorry, but I won''t. I can''t." I looked up at the ceiling and prepared to lie. "The only way I''d even begin to consider it would be if you shared the reason, and it held merit. Lacking that, we are doomed to repeat this."


    Distorted as it was, her voice was wracked with pain. "Is your love truly so selfish? To use the power of the divines to override my will with yours? Clinging to me to your detriment, the same way¡ª"


    Even unsaid, the blade struck home. I let it sit there, unaddressed, and weathered the discomfort, subconsciously leaning against the cold stone wall for support. I pressed my hand against the still bleeding wound in my chest, trying to blunt the chill. "Go ahead. Finish it."


    "The same way you clung to her." Maya finished it.


    There have been killing blows that inflicted less pain. Profound losses that left me less thunderstruck. I pushed away from the wall, forcing myself to stand without assistance, even as my body trembled, and my vision glassed over.


    My words felt raw, coarse, as I spoke them. "It''s been a while, so perhaps, there is need of a reminder. The moment you desire to be free of me, and come to that decision on your own, it will be done. You will be awarded for your contributions and service. Gifted a stipend appropriate to your deeds. Likely awarded a plot of land in the reaches, as is custom. Before you argue, you''ve done more for me than any knight or nobleman, and for lesser deeds they are compensated similarly. It will not repay my debt¡ªnothing would. But it would be better than nothing. Anything would be better than abandoning you in this place."


    There was no response, which left us halted at an impasse. One that I was simply incapable of budging on.


    I was uneasy about resetting, after the recent revelations regarding the Black Beast''s origin, but it was my only choice. With any luck, he''d place me at least a day before the sewer incursion, leaving room¡ª


    A glowing eye in the darkness halted me mid-thought. It lacked the blank, undefined warmth of a typical infernal''s. A large black pupil was ringed by emerald green, the iris so thin that without the luminescence, it would''ve blended in with the pupil itself. I could almost make out the texture of the skin that surrounded it, hints of dappled mottling replacing the typically smooth texture of her face.


    I sat perfectly still, unflinching, refusing to look away. Somehow, I smiled. "As I said. My Ni''lend could never lack the courage."


    "There is a reason I''ve remained focused on my development as a healer after my second awakening. Just as there is a reason I chose the path of a diplomat, rather than a warrior." The eye drew closer, her movement uncannily smooth. A predator stalking prey through the shadows.


    "It''s never been far from my mind what happened to you during the trial. I wanted to talk to you about it so many times. But after we were reunited, it felt like it wasn''t my place." I admitted.


    The eye drew closer again. "You are aware that Infaris granted me a vision of the sacking of Whitefall. That I witnessed what happened through a version of myself that had fallen victim to Thoth''s influence. Experienced the events as if I was living through them, seeing what she saw, feeling what she felt."


    "And witnessing those horrors took a toll on you."


    Slowly, the silhouette of her head shook, still wreathed in shadow. "What happened¡ªwhat I did to your sister will haunt me until the day I pass. Even for her, that version of me, it was beyond the pale."


    "It was not your fault." I grimaced. "And even if it was, I''ve seen the way you are with Annette in this life. How kindly you treat her. The way you accommodate her sporadic curiosities and flights of whimsy as if she were your own kin. You''ve seen my memories. How alone and isolated she was. Always, even in the center of a crowded room. Her life is so much better now than it ever was."


    Maya continued, as if she hadn''t heard. "Everything else¡ªI believed to be a product of the other me¡¯s twisted mind. The coloring of her perspective. She enjoyed the violence, I didn''t. She reveled in abusing her potential to enforce dominion and power over others because it soothed her suffering. I didn''t. She tore people apart. I mended them together."


    A violet flame grew out of her palm. The slender fingers that cupped it were crystalline, transparent, and cast small prisms around the room, as well as a length of the arm itself. Her horns were altered, the soft rounding straightened and distorted, twisting to fine points. "That was a lie, of course. No matter how different her life was from mine." Maya stared down at the flame as it grew, reflecting off a strip of chitin that lashed across her jaw, holding it together, scarring and cartilage visible at the edges. "We are the same person. I learned that definitively, not long after you were gone. Because I was suffering. And the violence... soothed it."


    The spark left her palm, traveling downward, across the floor, the furniture, the walls, until the cellar was awash with violet fire. Her flesh was a living mosaic¡ªscales gleaming like polished obsidian, plates of chitin catching the violet light like shards of midnight, and patches of hide as dark as storm clouds. Through this tapestry of transformation, islands of her original violet skin remained, a reminder of who she had been, who she still was beneath it all. The great feathered wings on her back unfurled, stretching out and flapping once, fanning the flame.


    I took a step forward. "You were lost. Grieving."


    "Would you forgive Thoth, for what she''s done? If she was lost and grieving?" Maya asked, the edges of her dark lips turned upwards in bitter irony.


    I struggled to divert the point. "It''s not the same. Regardless of what happened in the previous iteration, you''ve been nothing but an ally and a friend in this life. You have hurt no one who didn''t force your hand or have it coming in one way or another. Your magic and intervention has saved lives. And I''m not just talking about the healing. We were doing the same gods damned thing." I pounded my chest for emphasis. "Hunting down the real threats, corrupted or otherwise, securing the sanctum for the fledgling infernals. Children. At least some of which would have been tormented by those cunning monsters you targeted. Because I can say without equivocation, the most cunning monsters are seldom kind."


    "Indeed," Maya responded quietly.


    I walked through the fire, wincing as it scorched me, my fists clenched. "You are far from the first person in Uskar to struggle with their own darkness. You''ve seen mine more times than I can count."


    "Always in the service of the greater outcome."


    "Hardly." I stopped before her, staring down, holding her gaze. "Oathbane''s blood runs through my veins. Not long ago I was still reeling from the discovery of Lillian''s passing when House Westmore seized my sister and attempted to steal her away. Tell me. When my father gave me the initial news of what happened to Annette, do you really think my first instinct was to spare them?"


    Maya squinted, unsure. "You wouldn''t have."


    "Oh yes, I would. I couldn''t breathe. Couldn''t think. All I felt was anger, and the desire to express that anger, and those driveling bastards were stupid enough to give me a proper target." I rested my hand on her neck, brushing the reflective black embedded in her jaw. "If you weren''t there, I would have killed them all." I dropped my arm. "Go ahead. See for yourself."


    There was a green flicker as Maya reached behind my ear, a slight buzzing blurring my vision as warm fingers pressed into the divot between ear and skull. Her eyes widened, expression warring between surprise and stoicism. "It''s not entirely true. You would have spared the children."


    "Yet every man and woman of House Westmore would have been put to the sword, in my father''s tradition, if you hadn''t been there to anchor me. After my resurrection, it would be the first act the people of Whitefall remembered me for. And I would never stop regretting it."


    "I didn''t stop you. Or advise staying your hand."


    I smiled, even as the flames grew. "Your presence was enough¡ªyour trust a lighthouse in my storm. No matter how desperately I yearned to make them suffer, to paint the walls with House Westmore''s blood, I knew that crossing that line would shatter something precious between us. And you''d be right to doubt me. Because I can''t create a better world by repeating the mistakes of the past."


    "It''s you." Maya breathed. "This isn''t another trick. It''s actually you."


    I nodded, leaning my forehead against hers as the flames engulfed me from below. "We''ve both suffered. Experienced loss beyond words. Our darkness was made, not born. We are not beholden to it. I''ll hold yours for you. Just as you''ve held mine."


    "And if I need it?" Maya shivered.


    "Then I''ll watch the spectacle as you dance in the shadow, and when it is over, draw you back to the light."


    "I can''t tell you how relieved I am." Maya blinked away tears, overwhelmed and perturbed. "This form really doesn''t scare you? Or... alter your impression of me?"


    I looked her over openly. In truth, I''d been prepared for far worse. The asymmetrical nature of her alteration lent an otherworldly aspect, the alternating textures of skin somehow orderly. Her crystalline forearm composed entirely of basilisk crystal was outright beautiful, while her wings and pointed horns all came together to present an image that reminded me of the way historical artists envisioned angels, regal in their irregularity. The pointed teeth looked dangerous¡ªin a way that truly suited her.


    My mouth split in a savage smile. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear.


    "You''re magnificent."


    /////


    I came to slowly, heart hammering as I struggled away from hands that tugged at me before realizing they belonged to members of my regiment. Belatedly, I stopped fighting, still twisting, trying to catch sight of Maya in the gloom.


    When I saw her, my heart leapt into my throat. The distress and vulnerability she''d unveiled in the hallucination was nowhere to be seen. She''d already risen to her feet, her expression dispassionate, channeling her mother''s stoicism. In one hand, she held a writhing tendril of darkness, fingertips luminescent green. In the other, she held the mirror that Ozra returned.


    Maya stared at the mass of darkness with a cold, withering detachment. "Since you went through the trouble of reminding me what I''m capable of? Perhaps it is fitting, to demonstrate it in the flesh." She clenched the mirror, green light growing brighter until there was a squelching noise.


    Something shrieked as the tendril of smoke and oil was severed and fell to the ground, writhing.

 Chapter 248: Fracture LIII

    There are monsters deserving of sympathy. Creatures driven by hunger and savage instincts so potent their surrender to their baser nature is simply a foregone conclusion. Their only purpose to hunt, consume, and express their strength.


    The Lithid was not one such monster. Its penchant for cruelty had been on ample display from the beginning. Still, even as I moved to help and witnessed what was done to it, illuminated by the sickly green light of life-magic turned against its innate purpose, there was a part of me deep inside that couldn''t help but wince.


    A roar deafened us as another dark tentacle emerged from the mass in the ceiling, curving forward like an irate serpent, and struck out towards Maya again.


    Her mouth moved as she uttered something and extended an arm, nails of her fingertips pointed straight outward, illuminated and glowing. Like a raging river crashing into downstream rocks, the darkness split. Ribbonous remnants encircled her, weaving together like a wicker sphere before detonating.


    The humanoid shadows it controlled froze in mid-step or mid-swing. Members of my regiment did the same, unsure of what was happening and why.


    Maya looked to me. As smoke wreathed her shoulders and descended down her arm, forming a vicious curved black blade, there was something cold behind her eyes. Something brutal. A patient readiness that somehow suited her but was frightening all the same.


    Are you still so accepting?


    I drew in a deep breath. Acrid air filled my lungs, and I bellowed. "The tide is turning! Press forward!"


    Emboldened, the regiment engaged with renewed ferocity as they pushed forward, singing steel cleaving shadows. Simultaneously, the enemy appeared to grow less coordinated, the Lithid''s angry screeches raw and desperate as it abandoned its wide approach, narrowing its focus to a single person.


    Zinn and Sevran flanked Maya, fighting off the onslaught. Every silhouette cut down in their vicinity was absorbed, adding to the shroud of smoke that framed Maya''s shoulders.


    "GIVE IT BACK!" The lithid screamed in outrage, otherworldly wail echoing off the damp wall.


    Maya grinned, and I immediately realized that was the wrong choice of words. Shimmering arrows of oil flew like rain, battering the lithid''s physical manifestations wherever it appeared until it sunk beneath the sewage and resurfaced, only to be riddled with arrows again. Her voice carried, as if amplified by some unknown magic. "You''re part of me now. Your fear. Your terror. There is nowhere you can hide from me."


    I traversed the battlefield from above, leaping from aegis to aegis and swinging at shadows until I landed ankle deep in the refuse beside them, beheading two of the shadow soldiers in a single swing.


    "They''re weaker than before. It''s working!"


    "Not fast enough." Maya sidestepped, her face a mask of focus, intercepting a barbed tendril aimed for Zinn''s torso. Now severed, it formed a spear, which she hurled at one of the Lithid''s multiplying masses. "With hours to spare, the lithid would eventually die. But... it is vast. And even if I had the endurance, we do not have that sort of time."


    "What do you need?" I stomped on the back of a particularly large shadow soldier''s knee, driving it to the ground before it could attack us from behind. Maya called an oily arrow straight down, and I felt the displacement of air as it pierced straight through its form, rippling the sewage below.


    "The core. We have to destroy it."


    "Okay. How the hells do we do that?"


    Maya looked out, beyond the clash of soldiers and shadows, to the edge of the battle. "The same way you win five-cup-diamond."


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The name struck a bell. It was a merchant''s game, often used as a promotion to draw in customers and entice business. The merchant would seat himself at a table in front of his stall, cart, or establishment. Once someone took him up on the "game," a single spherical gemstone was passed between several stone cups at rapid pace, sometimes five, though the number often varied. More importantly, the game itself was a scam. No merchant could afford to give away a precious gem to even a fraction of the potential winners. Either the gem itself was spirited away in the shuffle, discretely scooped up or rolled off the table at the last possible moment, or the merchant had a method of transporting the gem between vessels before they were overturned, through magic or some other method.


    Thus, the only way to win five-cup-diamond was to potentially lose it. Overturn all cups on the table and openly expose the merchant as a fraud¡ªin which case the gem was often paid as recompense for silence, the best possible outcome¡ªor find yourself with a yet-to-be-moved gem, and a very unhappy merchant.


    "Got it. Where are our cups?"


    Grimly, Maya pointed towards the edge of the battlefield, where heaping piles of darkness spat out shadow soldiers who continually split, half rushing forward, the other half taking up defensive positions around the towering heaps. Almost immediately, I understood what to do.


    "Sera, Mari! To me!" I shouted, pointing out targets on either side as I rushed towards the center.


    Flanked by around a dozen soldiers apiece, they followed suit, rushing towards the shadowy masses and cleaving them with sword and axe. Sera took longer than the axe-wielding banner lieutenant, as like me, she couldn''t rely on the magic she typically would have for fear of detonating even more explosions. I felled the soldiers surrounding mine first, tearing open and finding nothing that resembled a core.


    Moments later, Sera and Mari did the same.


    Right. Five-cup. It cheats, moves its core between vessels.


    We''d narrowed down the possibilities significantly. But in doing so, we''d tipped our hand. The lithid would be more cautious and quick to react. Any second now it would recall defenses to the mounds of bubbling darkness, making the task twice as hard.


    There were two remaining on the far left and right. I pushed mana through the inscriptions on my legs, muscle and mana coiling as one, torn between which direction to choose. The pile I''d ripped open had already started to bubble up and re-manifest. If I chose the wrong one, we''d be back where we started, arguably worse.


    "Right!" Maya''s voice echoed over the battle, her shout barely audible over the din. But I heard it.


    I shot forward, everything blurring around me as my legs burned from the effort. Bypassing the shadows entirely, I tightened my two-handed grip and brought the borrowed blade down artlessly in an axeman''s swing, leveraging all my strength, intending to cleave it in two.


    TING


    My bones rattled as the impact jarred through me, spinning metal of the broken blade whirling off to the side. Unlike the previous heap, I''d struck something solid. I dug my fingers into the oily flesh and pulled, trying to get a better look at my quarry. A glowing violet sphere radiated from within the mass, pulsing. It was, as Maya predicted, a core. They were relatively uncommon. I''d only seen a few of them¡ªand those were dun cores already expended after the monster died. Once the impossibly hard exterior was cracked open, the inside was soft and nut-like, a surprisingly decent source of protein.


    Amplifying my efforts with mana and the natural strength of my chitinous arm, I bashed the glowing core with the hilt of my broken blade, over and over, barely dodging beneath the shadowy blade of an attacker before the soldiers backing me up repositioned to better protect me.


    Even with all that effort, the orb remained untarnished, perfectly spherical and whole. Worse, it seemed to retreat into the cradling darkness, sinking into the surface. If I didn''t figure out a way to solve the impermeability issue, we''d be in more dire straits than where we started. Short of summoning the flame and immolating myself in the impending explosion, I tried everything I could think of. Pressurized blades of water prepared by air, striking it with the blade of the already broken sword, even just squeezing it in my fist.


    "Cairn!" Sera shouted. She''d rotated over to help Mari, who was being assailed by shadows attempting to overwhelm her with a sheer force of numbers. "We''re too spread out! If we remain here, we will be overrun."


    She was right. There were seconds to spare, maybe less. Even then, we were too entrenched. A fighting retreat out of this level of commitment would cause casualties.


    I stared down at the sphere. Having a core meant it was more monster than demon, and mana was a monster''s lifeblood. With forms that often defied the rule of nature, most simply couldn''t subsist without it. Given that, there was still something I hadn''t tried. It was insane, the equivalent of trying to absorb a waterfall with a canteen, and would probably get me killed, but people were going to start dying soon, regardless.


    It was worth a shot.


    Moving quickly, I snatched the core with my demonic gauntlet and pulled. A radiating vastness that dwarfed oceans flooded through me, sending pulsing waves of power through my spine.


    Everything went white.

 Chapter 249: Fracture LIV

    First I saw it, a shimmering presence at the edge of consciousness. Then I felt its need¡ªa squeezing, wrenching, ever-present hunger that remained unsated, even as it fed. I watched it roam a distant, barren landscape, cold and desolate. It searched for sustenance, dragging itself on its belly, lacking both the power and knowledge required to compose a more appropriate, less humiliating form.


    The power grew overwhelming. The desert sun beat down, sweltering, its heat intensifying until sweat slicked my skin and my lungs burned with each breath. All I could do was scream as my mana pathways widened in a way they hadn''t since I''d first set foot in the sanctum. That feeling¡ªthe unrelenting sensation of being charged beyond capacity¡ªescalated, accelerated, until the burgeoning desire to do something became impossible to ignore.


    Somehow I existed in two places at once, seeing two different versions of reality. I stumbled backwards, the intricate chitinous detailing of my gauntlet lost as it glowed molten red. Every gem within it burst in a rapid staccato of tiny detonations, each one piercing the air with crystalline shrieks.


    My panic grew. I''d taken on far more than I should have been able to manage. The gauntlet struggled with particularly powerful spells, and when used to catch something far beyond its innate capacity, it would discharge what it held in a destructive manner.


    Rattled and blinded as I was, I remained dimly aware of the battle raging around me. The fetid stench of sewage mixed with the acrid smell of burnt stone and the metallic tang of blood. The clash of weapons and shouts of combatants echoed off the curved tunnel walls. Anywhere I aimed was highly likely to result in friendly fire.


    Unless


    I raised my trembling gauntlet, aiming my palm straight up toward the vaulted ceiling.


    And released.


    My vision narrowed as an impossibly bright golden beam, wide around as a wagon, erupted soundlessly from my palm. My hearing hollowed and muffled as something wet seeped from my ears. Stone and earth rained down, pelting my shoulders and neck, the debris striking like hailstones against my armor until a weighty piece of foundation collided with my skull.


    It was a bad knock. I still remembered what I was doing and why, but my reasoning and resulting actions slowed infinitely, as though I moved through honey rather than air.


    The core¡ªI needed to grab the core and continue to drain it before it fled.


    It pulsed violet before me, less vibrantly than before, easily within arm''s reach. But my body refused to cooperate, to so much as raise my arm, even as I willed it to move.


    Someone grabbed me from behind. Long fingers with dark nails dug into my shoulder, and the verdant warmth of life magic flooded through me, bringing with it the scent of spring leaves and fertile soil. A familiar voice hissed into my ear. "I''ve got you. Don''t let up."


    Still too stunned to respond, I reacted instinctively, grabbing for the descending core before it sunk too far into the dark mass. The slick, cold surface of it burned against my palm even as its power tore through me again. This torrent of energy warred with the healing magic coursing through my veins. My hearing returned just in time to pick up a distant, keening howl that must have been the lithid, a sound like steel dragged across stone.


    "Who... is... your... master...?" I growled out, each word an effort that tasted of copper and ash.


    Instead of a reaction, another memory overlapped my mind, scrambling my senses. The bars of a cage manifested, a thin shimmer between them like heat rising from summer stones. It still only cared about eating, but what it wanted to eat was more specific than before. Far above in the distant ceiling, a hatch opened with a rusty groan. A demon stared down at us, crouched beside the hatch. His bones themselves seemed to glow through his skin, making any distinctive feature difficult to make out. For the first time that I''d witnessed, the lithid felt something other than hunger or fear.


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Curiosity.


    A distant pondering for who its contract holder was, what purpose they intended it to serve. It only lasted for a moment before the man disappeared, the hatch still open. An arm appeared over the hatch, the rest of the body following it as it was summarily shoved in. The corpse was unfortunately not a corpse¡ªlapsing into screams as it struck the ground¡ª


    I raised my arm, barely diverting to the ceiling before the beam fired again. The concussion of it sent tremors through the stone beneath my feet. Still behind me, Maya stopped healing long enough to cast a convex aegis overhead, the translucent shield shimmering with emerald light as it deflected the debris. Chunks of stone and mortar clattered against it like rain on a tin roof.


    "Who is your master?" I shouted again, my voice echoing across the damp chamber.


    Instead of answering, the increasingly dim core was suddenly flung by its oily cradle, sailing in a wide arc towards a group of shadows tripping over each other, intending to catch it. Maya''s hand left my back as she rushed forward, stolen darkness forming steps beneath her as she leapt up and outward, the blade she''d forged cracking out like a whip towards the fleeing core.


    At first I thought she''d missed. It''d all happened so fast.


    But when the core splashed into the sewage, one half after another, the sound like a stone dropping into mud, none of the shadows moved to seize it. They stood there impassively, shuddering, before the darkness fell away. No longer shrouded by the lithid, the shriveled corpses of countless nonhumans fell, some sinking into the sewage with soft plops, others collapsing on the walkway with hollow thuds. A stunned, exhausted cheer echoed across the sewer walls, the sound rippling through the tunnels like disturbed water.


    It was finally over.


    /////


    By the grace of the-probably-dead-gods, my father was true to his word. He''d more than come through. More than half the Royal army was posted around every entrance and access point, and as soon as word spread that the hard work was done, we were under siege and drowning in help. ''Assistance'' was a thinly guised excuse for every man and woman in the King''s service to get a closer look at the monster they''d been apparently sleeping above for months, but we needed all the help we could get to catalogue the bodies.


    "We found another one." A lieutenant from one of the many outside regiments signaled to me, his mouth drawn and grim, the flickering lantern light casting deep shadows across his face.


    "Same as the others?" I asked.


    "Aye," the man nodded. "Lined up beside each other. No sign of injuries, on the outside, at least. Just wasted away to nothing. Starved to death."


    I nodded apologetically to the man I''d been speaking to prior to the interruption and followed the soldier down a nearby maintenance tunnel. The air here was stagnant, thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Our footsteps echoed softly against the stone, the only sound besides the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.


    Same as the Lithid''s other graves, the corpses were lined up beside each other. There wasn''t much decay for how long they''d been down here. Given that, the non-combat members of the team believed they were being artificially kept on the precipice of death. Effectively farmed for their vitality.


    It was a dark day.


    With as much care as possible, the bodies were loaded into several carts narrow enough to navigate the walkways. Maya raised her arms, as she''d done for several such graves, and lifted the fallen gently into the vehicles that would transport them to their much belated resting place. I''d wondered if that was going to cause a problem, but to their credit, no one really looked at her twice. The magnitude of the event was simply too great for the average soldier to be distracted by an infernal using uncommon magic.


    As we followed the carts transporting the dead, the wooden wheels creaking against the uneven stone, I noticed a group of soldiers attempting to clear a caved-in tunnel that must have fallen during the chaos. A particularly large man worked alongside them. Despite the obvious stature, I didn''t identify him right away, as the man rarely wore something as low-blooded as leathers outside the castle''s training grounds. The man picked up a small boulder of debris, hefting it on his shoulder and carrying it over to a cart where waiting oxen would haul it out later in the day.


    "Father?" I said, surprised. I thought he''d be waiting on the surface, relegating the recovery to lesser men.


    "Boy." He eyed me and approached, looking me up and down. After a long silence, he wrinkled his nose. "Gods. You reek."

 Chapter 250: Fracture LV

    "It is a sewer, father."


    "Which begs the question. Why have you treated it like a bath?"


    "For Elphion''s sake¡ª"


    "The gods have nothing to do with this. A prince must maintain his dignity at all times."


    "And what of the King, also knee deep in sewage, parading around in simple leathers like a common man at arms?" I snapped back, vaguely heated, unaware of my tone, what I must have sounded like.


    Utter silence fell over the throng, as the entire recovery effort halted. Anxious men and women braced, some actively wincing, as the king, terrifyingly contemplative, slowly waded towards me. Maya shifted beside me, her expression placid, whatever thoughts she held on the matter banished deep beneath the surface.


    He glowered up at me, danger in his eyes. "A prince must conform. The King goes where he pleases. Alters what cannot be to what is. If he were to walk nude from the palace to the merchant''s gate amidst a blizzard in the dead of winter''s crest, the weather is agreeable to such a walk." He gestured down to the sewage at his legs. "And if he chooses to take a midday dip in the piss and shit of his subjects..."


    The king trailed off, glancing behind him where several of the black shields were listening in. One of them grinned, and, as if prompted, dropped from the walkway into the muck. "The water''s fine, milord."


    "And there you have it." Father said, still holding an almost stoic expression, the side of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smile.


    It was strange. Like watching a badly abridged play. The first act¡ªpithy admonishment¡ªmore or less intact, only with the violence and penance that followed altogether absent. I was willing to admit he''d changed from the patriarch I knew in my past life. The differences were simply too stark, too consistent for the change in demeanor to be nothing more than a strategic approach. Still, in my exhaustion, I''d committed what my father had once considered an inexpiable sin. Insulting the crown publicly, well within earshot of multiple military leaders and high-ranking officials.


    Still wary, I reached out and offered him my arm. He took it¡ªagain, something that should not have happened¡ªand stepped up on the walkway. He embraced me openly, then whispered. "Your list of triumphs grows. But this?" He gestured towards the sewer, and the relief effort within it. "This is the first one Whitefall will remember you for. King Cairn. The resurrected ruler who began his reign by delving into the darkness and vanquishing the great evil that dwelled beneath his city."


    "I couldn''t have done it without your support. If the exits weren''t covered¡ª"


    "Nonsense. This is your victory. Yours alone. And the scribes will be kind enough to remember it as such. Isn''t that right?" My father''s attention was directed a few feet behind me, where a man with a feathered hat and grimace for a face scratched down notes on a stone tablet. When the man realized he was the topic of address, he plied us with bows and repeated reassurances.


    With my concerns of a kingly eruption fading, I couldn''t help look back to the ongoing effort to remove all the bodies. "The lithid may be slain. I''m happy the people of Whitefall are safe. But this... doesn''t feel like a victory."


    The King followed my gaze. "Aye. It seldom does. Winning a battle is like waking up in a whorehouse. In the moment, all you can see is the cost. Distance will balm the emptiness. Grant perspective."


    A crude example. But it gave a small degree of comfort to realize that he was right. The most harrowing conflicts I''d lived through felt more like survival than victory. Looking back on them after the wounds had healed and the faces of the dead had faded made it infinitely easier to evaluate what happened objectively.


    And yet.


    "May I request a boon for my victory, father?" I ventured.


    He leveraged a savage grin in response. "Shrewd. Any king worth his gold would be a fool to not recognize the magnitude of what you''ve done here today. Ask, boy, and see it granted."


    I took a deep breath. "I''d like to commission a memorial for the victims."


    "Done."


    "Along with cataloguing their names and family history, I''d like to pay for the burials. I''m... actually not entirely sure how much I have to my own name, specifically, right now¡ª"


    "More than you''d expect." King Gil provided, looking more than a little pleased with himself. He let me puzzle over it before he continued. "I intended to keep this from you until a full judgment of your character could be rendered, and I have found what I have seen to this point, entirely adequate. The royal apothecary generously lent the cure for the gray plague to every schmuck with a mortar and pestle, and for that generosity, received a small fraction of profit in return. A separate portion was set aside for the cure''s creator." He put his hand on my shoulder. "But that gold is for your war-chest. You will not fritter it away as recompense for someone else''s mistake."


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    I set my feet, unwilling to budge. "It is the only boon I ask for."


    "Which is why the crown will cover the arrangements." The king said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.


    My jaw dropped. "What? That''s... unexpected."


    "Is it?" King Gil raised an eyebrow, grimacing at his ruined leathers before his attention returned to me. "We will get to the bottom of why this happened. And who, specifically, is responsible. Heads will roll. In the meantime, it happened under my watch, stemming from the indifference of the men and women who serve me. Hundreds denied Valhalla because the pleas and prayers of their families went unheard."


    I took a deep breath and added the last part. "I''d like the gravesite and memorial to be located somewhere in the Grand Districts, adjacent to the Fields of Fallen Heroes."


    King Gil absorbed that, studying me with a calculating eye. "You want the demi-human corpses recovered here today to be buried near the bodies of men who died in service to the crown?"


    "Yes."


    "When many of those humans died at the weapons and magic of the folk you''d inter next to them." He confirmed.


    Maya stepped up beside me and interjected. "They may have not done so willingly. But if it was not for their sacrifice, we would have never discovered this monster lurking beneath. A monster that could have easily posed a threat to the crown."


    "It sounds like your intention is to piss off every noble house in Whitefall." The King groused.


    "In my father''s tradition. They will cooperate." I smiled thinly, thinking of House Westmore. "At some point they''ll have to. My sympathies towards the nonhumans are well known. It''s only logical that my reign would follow the same trajectory. They''ll fall in line."


    "Bearing in mind they''ve already received a stark reminder of what will happen if they don''t." The king relented. "Fine." He smiled that savage smile again and stuck his thumb at the scribe. "As long as the little man takes this down exactly as it happened."


    My mouth twitched. I didn''t particularly enjoy mythmaking or self-aggrandizement. Wringing any sort of credit from a tragedy of this scale felt ghoulish at best. But ruling was about compromise. If he could be flexible enough to give me what I was asking for, it was only fair to let him spin it however he pleased. "Done."


    There was the sound of shuddering stone, and the ground beneath our feet trembled as a blockage somewhere in a distant tunnel came free. Silence followed. Then shouts. Calls for a priest, or a life mage.


    Someone was still alive.


    /////


    As it turned out, far more than just someone. Hundreds of people stumbled out of the sewer in a daze. Most could walk, though those who had been held the longest had to be carried, thin legs and wasting limbs badly atrophied. Some part of me struggled to believe it. Held on to the possibility that this was some cruel trick.


    But as the survivors were evaluated and interviewed¡ªeach telling some version of the same tale¡ªa tension in my chest slowly unraveled. In retrospect, it made sense. The lithid''s hunger was endless. It needed living victims to feed, and without them, it would have starved.


    Speaking to them revealed exactly what one would expect. They had no memory of being taken. What they did recall was being trapped in a memory or scenario that was impossible to escape from, no matter how they tried. A few reported a sensation of movement, being transported beyond the dream, which likely tracked with how the lithid used its appendages to relocate prey and avoid detection.


    There was no hint as to the lithid''s master, or its greater purpose. Vogrin remained behind, overseeing the Crimson Brand''s efforts and investigating on his own. There were enough researchers and bookish mages on-hand to ensure there''d be more information, eventually. But it would likely take weeks to see actual results.


    Despite the chilly throes of dusk, the city was alive.


    The sounds of tearful reunions and sorrowful agony filled the air.


    I wanted to think. To review what happened, and what it meant. To do something more. But interfering with the lithid''s delusions had taken a toll. My mind was spent, my thoughts muddy and slow.


    Back at the barracks, I remember staring at a soldier''s face as he spoke, following the movements of his mouth, and struggling to connect the sounds to the words he spoke.


    "...My lord?"


    "Say it again?" I smiled. "Got shit in my ears."


    The young soldier barked a laugh. "Surely you''re coming out to the taverns with us? We''ve all earned a bit of a breather."


    I shook my head, and then, remembering my father''s earlier comment, reached in my satchel and fished out a sack of gold. "If only I could. My evening will be spent dining with the Royal Family." I tossed him the sack. "Buy the men a few rounds on me. Make sure everyone stays respectful. Don''t leave ¡®til morning."


    The soldier peeked in the bag, and his eyes widened. "Aye. We''ll make a night of it."


    "See that you do."


    Then the soldier left, or disappeared, or was raptured into the heavens by the gods for all I can recall. The rest of the evening was spent in a merciful blur, allowing the long-denied opportunistic servants to take advantage of my addled state to finally offer proper attendance, scrubbing at every nook and cranny as bucket after bucket was dumped over my head, until the water finally came away clear. They took their leave then, the accumulated steam from the tub a salve to my aching lungs and sinuses.


    As the wide mirror above the ornate marble sink fogged over, unconsciousness tugged at my senses, lulling my mind into a gentle twilight between night and sleep. It stands out in memory. Because from the day I returned to Whitefall, to that evening, I''d been vigilant. There was always a small dagger beneath my pillow, or the hilt of a hidden sword just within arm''s reach. I typically slept dressed on a blanket resting on the floor, feet pressed against the door as I''d learned from Cephur to protect from assassins and other knives in the dark.


    But the threat was seemingly over. My mind preoccupied. And while the thought passed through it to ask my servants to fetch a weapon to keep at my side while I bathed, the inevitable resistance and argument dissuaded me.


    Lounging there, basking in the cloying warmth of the tub, I watched, half-paralyzed as movement drew my open eye. A tendril of shadow extended out from beneath the door, traveling upwards towards the handle.


    I drew on what little mana I had left to call the spark.


    Then the latch clicked.

 Chapter 251: Fracture LVI

    Chapter 251: Fracture LVI


    RE: Monarch


    All manner of terrible ruminations raced through my mind as the door handle turned. The simplest was that the Lithid had only feigned death and somehow used the lapse of attention from those focused on the recovery effort to follow me home. My second thought¡ªarguably far worse¡ªwas that perhaps the victory was too simple to be real. The monster wielded fantasy like a blade, and what better fantasy than leading one''s army against a great evil with few casualties?


    Something about it felt too easy. Not necessarily the fight itself, but the Lithid''s utter lack of preparation. It was a lair-monster, and most intelligent lair creatures I encountered spared no effort establishing a series of collapsing traps and chokepoints to defend otherwise vulnerable dens. They picked their battles craftily and displayed utter mastery of their terrain.


    By comparison, other than using the foul air as a defense against certain types of magic, the Lithid seemed more displaced than anything else. Almost transitory. As if, despite all evidence pointing otherwise¡ªincluding the small mountain of corpses that were still, at this very moment, being recovered¡ªit hadn''t dwelled in the sewer for very long at all.


    Realistically, if we were wrong¡ªif its vacations on the surface were far more frequent and mobile than we''d realized¡ªinfiltrating the palace and attempting to assassinate the commander of the regiment that had just laid its home and provisions to waste was a logical course of action.


    Unfortunately, my sword was a room away. Even if I did fancy the idea of sounding the alarm as I gallivanted bare-assed across the castle grounds, the bathroom window always stuck stubbornly, giving whatever was about to enter ample warning and opportunity to strike.


    I slipped out of the tub, the slick tread of my feet betraying me against the cool marble. Swearing silently, I recovered, stalking towards the hinge side of the door. The many soaps and oils the staff used were overpowering to my tired senses, but even so, the scent of sulphur cut through¡ªclear as a warning bell.


    Can''t run. Guards won''t hear me. Alten''s off princess detail but aiding with the recovery. Conflict is inevitable, but if it captures me again, that''s it. I have to strike quickly, use surprise to my advantage and flee. But with what?


    The rinse bucket I''d been so thoroughly assailed with still sat overturned near the grate in the center of the room. It wouldn''t go far in a struggle, but it was made of metal, sturdy enough that the maids frequently flipped it over and used it as a stool. Swung or thrown hard enough, it might buy enough time to retrieve my weapon and call for help.


    I picked it straight up, careful not to let the edges touch the ground, and pressed myself against the wall, holding my breath even as the cold stone chilled me terribly.


    A figure wreathed in shadow stepped inside.


    Muscles screaming, I swung the handle of the bucket with all my strength, directly at the top of the shadow. The reaction was immediate. Instead of dodging or absorbing the blow, a black blade sliced through the air and, with the sound of rending metal, cleaved the bucket in two. Sobering.


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    But it also implied that, even for a second, the thing wasn''t looking at me at all.


    I lowered my shoulder and tackled it artlessly, intending to use the distraction to brute force my way through any obstacle. It gave some but never yielded, instead, exerting sudden overwhelming pressure on my shoulders attempting to counter my momentum and shove me face first down into the floor. I whipped away, barely avoiding the reversal, and backpedaled across the room as balance left me. My bare back collided with the mirror, sending a long fissure spider-webbing to either side. Warm blood dripped from the resulting gash as I lashed out for balance, overturning a pitcher filled with boiling water that hissed as it poured over the heated stones, filling the air with thickening mist.


    A tendril of darkness slashed an X through the mist, creating an opening. The figure stepped through it. As it approached, the wreath of shadow that covered its face receded, revealing violet features that were immediately familiar. "Has there not been enough conquest for the day, Ni''lend?"


    I forced myself to relax, though the smile was slow to come, and it took considerable effort to pry my own fingers off the pitcher''s handle as I set it down. "Apologies, for the bucket."


    "Apologies to the bucket. I get the impression I''ve startled you from rest." She murmured. Her eyes scanned me up and down only once before coming to rest on my face.


    There was something different about her. Something difficult to place. It wasn''t the attire, though the dark flowing slip she wore that shimmered in the mana-light was certainly pleasing to the eye. It was her air. The gentle gravity of her presence. Typically Maya comported herself with seemingly effortless confidence around nobles in public, all wit and charm, but observing the way she sort of deflated afterward, shrunk into herself once she was away from watchful eyes, revealed it to be not so effortless after all.


    I caught a glimpse of her as she circled behind me and used a flash of life magic to mend the cut on my back. Her light eyes danced with amusement and something else¡ªshe carried herself with the same confidence she displayed when addressing a room full of nobles. Only there was no audience left to witness it.


    "You often catch me off-guard. It''s one of your many charms. Is everything alright?" Suddenly very aware of my nudity, I reached for the towel beside the heated rocks. To my surprise, a small tendril of shadow stopped me, wrapping around my wrist in a similar manner to the way her tail moved.


    "It is." She cocked her head, glancing towards the steaming pool. "Don''t stop on my account. Only a monster would deny a man his bath after what we just went through."


    I snorted. "So you can ogle me as I lounge? How scandalous."


    "Then we shall ogle equally." Maya turned her back on me and ascended the quartet of stairs. With every step, the dark slip she wore dissipated, her violet coloring aubergine in the soft light, the fading white scars that accented her skin growing more numerous until every curve and line of her was on full display, the cruelly fleeting moment fading as she sunk down into the water, careful to keep the dark braid of her hair over the side. I realized I''d been standing there, dumbstruck, for entirely too long. "Do you intend to join me?"


    "Ah. Yes." I swallowed, not used to being so easily flustered. Still, I managed to move, and with effort, quickly followed after her. By the mercy of the gods, she was kind enough not to openly stare as I stepped into the tub, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them as I settled in.

 Chapter 252: Fracture LVII

    Chapter 252: Fracture LVII


    RE: Monarch


    "Apologies. For some reason, I lost control of my faculties. As if the gods sent a celestial rock from the heavens to smite me." I smiled as I spoke, the still-warm water lapping against my chest as I got comfortable.


    "A moon, perhaps?" Maya''s voice was muffled, a string of bubbles escaping her lips from her half-submerged head. Her cheeks were flushed dark, and suddenly, she seemed particularly fixated on the tiling on the wall.


    "You come on that strong and now you''re embarrassed?"


    A dark tentacle rose from the water and swung across the surface, throwing a small wave directly into my sputtering face. Maya sunk lower as the shadow receded. "It wasn''t embarrassing when I imagined it."


    "Fantasies seldom are. It''s not until they''re acted upon¡ª"


    Another splash silenced me, and I wordlessly spit water out.


    "It wasn''t just a fantasy. There are important topics to discuss and too many eyes."


    "Like?" I prompted.


    "Our dinner this evening. Your father clarified it was to be a family affair but insisted I was invited. Someone sent over the royal tailor to attend me, who spent the last hour prodding at me and making clucking noises before making final alterations to a dress I can only describe as above-my-station. It feels strange. Like there are certain expectations of me I don''t yet understand. Naturally I wanted to consult with you, but you''ve said countless times that the palace has too many eyes, and rushing off to speak with you publicly could give the impression of weakness. In testing the Lithid''s vestige, I found it could potentially shroud me from spying eyes and give me the opportunity to sneak into your rooms. And once I realized that..."


    "You started thinking about what else we could do once you snuck into my rooms." I suppressed a smile.


    Maya held a hand over her face. "I am such a fool. We''ve lived in the same house for years. Taken long ventures through the wilderness where modesty was second thought, if not discarded entirely. I''ve thought about it. Dreamed about it. It shouldn''t¡ª"


    "Glimpses throughout the years can''t substitute the full picture. And you''ve become accustomed to hiding yourself. To some more than others." I mused, trying very hard not to replay the last few minutes in my mind. Instead, I sat up and leaned forward, fishing around in the depths of the water until I found her legs and drew them across mine. In my experience, intimacy was a little like a muscle. It took time for it to become natural. Patience. Too much too fast was a quick path to a terrible experience.


    At that moment, her legs pressed against mine beneath the warmth of the water was more than enough. I dug my thumb into the taut corded muscle of her calf and massaged it, feeling the tension give after repeated pressure. "Is this alright?"


    In a moment of indecision, it seemed as if she might draw her legs back before she finally nodded, tension going out of her as she leaned back further into the water. "Yes." Her gaze grew hazy, jaw slackening as the growing heat stoked relaxation. "Did you enjoy my... attempt?"


    I stifled a laugh. "It was masterful. I was completely enraptured. The only tragedy was that it lacked follow-through and ended too soon." I took the moment to bask in the entirety of her. Who she was. What she meant to me. We''d been through so much in so short a time. "You know there''s no reason to rush." I patted her leg.


    "Isn''t there?" Maya glared at me with a look frigid enough to cut through the heat of the bath.


    "Of course." I carried on, quick to redirect her thoughts from where they''d inevitably landed. "You''ve chosen the object of your affections impeccably well."


    "Listening to a man stroke his own ego truly fuels the fire within me."


    I snorted and looked away, no longer able to hold her withering stare. "Nothing so self-consummating. I just mean it in the sense that, while we are certainly in danger daily, you are perhaps the one warrior-wife in the king''s service who does not have to worry about whether her beloved is coming home." Maya didn''t react to that, and what little I could read of her face above the bubbles looked bothered, so I clarified. "Not saying it''s been easy, the path to get here certainly wasn''t." I trailed off, smiling to myself. "But... I''ll always come back to you. No matter what happens."


    The change¡ªthe one that let me know that I''d erred, misspoken¡ªwas subtle. She''d shifted to angle her legs slightly away from me, and the gentle rhythm of the pulse that bobbed in her neck picked up a little. Her mouth was wide, tight, forming the expression Maya made when she was masking pain.


    "I... was trying to be romantic." I added, deflating a little.


    "And it is." Maya nodded, her eyes glassy. "It''s a genuinely kind sentiment."


    "But it made you think about the sanctum?" I guessed.


    Apparently that was wrong, as she shook her head. "It doesn''t matter."


    "It matters to you."


    "It is¡ª" Maya gesticulated vaguely, disturbing the water as she worked through how to communicate something before eventually thinking better of it. "It is not the sort of thing a kind person would voice grievance over."


    I pointed towards the vacant space. "It''s just the two of us, here, behind closed doors. Even Thaddeus''s little spies are kept at bay. I permit you to be momentarily unkind."


    "A kind person would evaluate the situation logically. Every time you reset, you die. The heart in your chest stops beating and your vitality slips away. Sometimes you die in painful ways. Horrible ways. And just because the damage is eventually undone doesn''t mean everything is fixed. It stays and haunts you. That you''re doing so well, regardless of all of that, is more than enough."


    "Death is my way of life." I shrugged. "Annoyingly poetic as that sounds."


    "You''ve never chosen to die." She eyed the inscription on my neck. "You''ll accept it, when there''s no recourse. Even end it yourself if the alternative is a botched present or a damned future. But you''ve never chosen it, as the human warriors of old did in droughts of conflict."


    "We have different definitions of choice, though there''s little point in legislating semantics. What I mean to say is that I''ve routinely chosen a path that brings me closer to it. Prioritized reward over risk. Sometimes to my own detriment. It didn''t have to go that way." I thought back to the early days at the cabin. "The first few deaths were... excruciating. The gut-wound. Barion. Kastramoth." I grimaced, and Maya shuddered. "All told, some of the worst sensations and experiences I''d ever endured, dwarfing the middling discomforts of my first life by an order of magnitude."


    "You skipped one," she pointed out, face slightly hidden.


    "Did not." I studied the bubbles in the water.


    "I killed you. Between Barion and Kastramoth, when you tried to set the cabin on fire."


    I blinked several times. "Would you believe that''s one of my favorite deaths?"


    "Shut up." Maya rolled her eyes.


    "Genuinely. A single featherlight touch. Brief pain followed by immediate loss of sensation. Docking a few points for the burning of lungs, but other than that, it was instant. And comparatively humane." I flicked water at her and laughed as she returned it two-fold. "Really though, it would have been reasonable, perhaps even expected, for a spoiled noble in my position to come away from those initial experiences pigeon-hearted and terrified at the idea of ever dying again. Somehow, I chose the other path. Willingly putting myself in danger over and over, because choosing the riskier option is almost always ideal, when the consequences are temporary, is a choice." I paused, trying to work through how to communicate what I wanted to say without spoiling the mood. "But I''ve learned the hard way¡ªpossibly the hardest way¡ªthat I cannot simply assume I''m acting in accordance with others'' wishes. Even if they''re people I love. So please. Find it within yourself to be unkind."


    "When I was a little girl, there was a red infernal named Zarif, a thin beanpole of an infernal. Mother''s assistant. The last one she ever had. Any time she drew up a contract, or any other document, she''d hand it off to me, and I''d go tearing through the scholar''s district to deliver it to him."


    "Did you love it or hate it?"


    "At that point in my life?" Maya laughed. "Loved. Because it also got me out of studying."


    "I can''t believe that you weren''t always a devoted student." I shook my head.


    "It took a while, as we didn''t really speak the first few times, but eventually, we formed a rapport. I''d ask him annoyingly specific trivia about the law¡ªthings I''d undoubtedly just picked up from mother¡ªand try to stump him. Somehow he always got it right. Even when the answer was infuriatingly obscure."


    "The reliable sort."


    Maya nodded. "It was a territorial dispute, I think, that led to heightened tensions. A human mage uncovered several unbound palantir in a ruin to the south. Well within the bounds of the Enclave, only..."


    "That human mage was a member of the Crimson Brand." I finished with an uncomfortable sigh, the rest of the recollection following shortly after. High-ranking members of the Crimson Brand could, by law, claim any artifact or item they discovered that was not currently and explicitly owned as divine domain. It caused no end of grievances, and this was no exception, leading to the tensest period between humankind and the infernals since the period immediately preceding my father''s conquest. I cocked my head. "Was he drafted? Your Zarif?"


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    Maya shifted uncomfortably. "It was a summons, not a draft, but in this case, effectively the same. Mother refused to hire a replacement while he was gone and held his position for him. Only when he came back..." She hugged herself subconsciously, her attention slipping to the past.


    "A lot of soldiers have difficulty assimilating back into civilian life, when their service has ended."


    "That''s just it." Maya shook her head. "Even if he''d been angry, or injured, or clearly traumatized from whatever it was he''d gone through, I''d have understood."


    "But it wasn''t that?"


    Her jaw worked, then went slack. "He never... told me what happened. But something happened in those six months. I could feel it, every time he scolded me for crawling down from the rooftop, or waved me over, or answered one of my many questions. Like his mind was no longer his, like it''d been taken over by another being who was simply going through the motions. Like he was an entirely different person."


    "Yes." I sighed, feeling a familiar rise of guilt. "If this is about the time we spent separated in the Sanctum, I''ll do everything in my power to keep that from happening again."


    "It... isn''t." Maya grew distant, sinking down to her neck in the water, done up hair barely above the surface. "Obviously I''d rather not be plucked apart again, if we can help it. But we are adults with separate areas of influence. It logically follows that there will be times we must attend our responsibilities individually." She seemed to steel herself, staring at me intently. "I''ll maintain it''s selfish to ask this, considering how hard you''ve fought on my behalf¡ªon everyone''s behalf¡ªbut have you ever stopped to imagine how the years since we met have played out from my perspective?"


    I opened my mouth, and after giving it a second thought, closed it again. "Chaotic, I imagine."


    "To say the least. More close calls than a person should realistically be able to have. Barely surviving one disaster after another, after another. To be fair, despite everything, there''s been more good times than bad." Maya said quickly, looking more than a little chagrined. "Meeting you, sharing our lives over the years. I''ve cherished all of it." She swallowed. "But then there are the days you come to me, confidently proclaiming the solution to a problem I didn''t even know we had. And you put on a brave face¡ªyou really do¡ªbut you''re pale and drawn, and the smile isn''t doing anything to hide the way you''re shaking." She shuddered and put a hand over her mouth. "And I... realize that it''s happened again. You''ve found your way out of death''s clutches, but how long did it take? Weeks? Months? Years? Do you even remember what we talked about the last time we spoke, or is yesterday already a distant memory for you?"


    "You''ve seen most of it, been part of most of it." I pointed out, reminding her of our shared memories.


    "Hearing that I helped is not the same as physically taking part. It feels... too easy. As if there are constantly important ordeals happening in and around my life that I am simply not present for."


    "Is there anything we can do to make that easier for you?" I asked.


    "No." Maya huffed. "The one I wish we could make it easier for is you. You love me, yes?"


    "As the sun sets in the west and twilight follows in its wake."


    "Then¡ª" She trailed off, cheeks reddening as she stumbled over her words. "Must you ambush me so?"


    "A poetic ambush is my favorite kind." I shrugged.


    Maya cleared her throat pointedly. "Then imagine how you''d feel. If every so often I came to you haggard, red-eyed, looking as if a runaway wagon had trampled me¡ª"


    "Elphion, I never look that bad."


    "And you come to the same conclusion you always do. Someone hurt me. Maimed me terribly, as I screamed, and fought, and wept. While you blissfully carried on with your day, unbothered and unaware, I overcame something that threatened both of us. And now I''m telling you it''s all taken care of. How would you feel?"


    "Like shit. More than a little murderous." Subconsciously, my hand tightened into a fist.


    "Yes. Quite." Maya laughed, the cheery noise bouncing off walls through the humid air. "Sometimes I fantasize about getting the drop on you, doing whatever is necessary to render you unconscious and pliant¡ª"


    "Go on." I prompted.


    She rolled her eyes. "¡ªAnd stealing you away to some faraway continent where no one could ever hurt you again. Beyond even Thoth''s clutches."


    "Does such a place even exist?"


    "Not on a map. But... there are rumors of a shrouded continent, east of Terragor. Almost impossible to reach by sea."


    "I wasn''t aware there was an east of Terragor beyond dead seas and devouring shoals."


    "We could find it." She stared at me, point blank. An observation. The question purely implicit.


    Run away together.


    Another voice made itself known, a gentle echo across my thoughts. I didn''t flinch from it as I once had, or attempt to shove it away. Instead, I acknowledged her presence and bade farewell as she vanished from the stage of my mind''s eye.


    "I can''t leave." I said, the words weighing heavy as I spoke them. Maya absorbed it silently, as if it was to be expected. "But you can."


    She started at that, face going impassive almost immediately after.


    A lump appeared in my throat, remaining lodged there even as I attempted to swallow it down. "It''s just... you''re right. That the position you''re in is difficult. If I had to choose between suffering every day, or watching someone I love experience that same suffering, that would be no choice at all. You''ve handled it masterfully, better than anyone could reasonably expect. Thing is, I can''t promise any of it will get better." I thought about the upcoming dinner, and Maya''s unexpected invitation. "For as long as Thoth is still alive that promise is beyond me. Furthermore, my family is beginning to acknowledge you as more than a mere diplomat. Which is both heartwarming and a little terrifying. But the awareness of the royal family is often a double-edged sword. You didn''t ask for any of this. After tonight, and the respite in Kholis¡ª" I winced as her eyes bored into me, quickly carrying on. "It will only be more difficult to extricate yourself. Let me be clear. I don''t wish for you to go¡ª"


    A gentle hand rested on my throat, stopping me. She''d grown closer as I rambled, expression muted and thoughtful. And perilously, perilously close. "This is not that day beyond the castle walls, when the black shields rended the wavering heart from your chest."


    My mouth snapped shut. Slowly, it was like a great weight I wasn''t even aware I was carrying slipped away.


    "We are bound, Ni''lend. Your fate is my fate. And my heart does not waver." She kissed my forehead.


    "I can''t marry you." It came out more harshly than intended, and I grabbed her waist as she reflexively tried to pull away.


    "We''ve already addressed the topic of political marriage thoroughly, yet you''ve chosen to bring it back up at the worst possible moment¡ª" She sputtered.


    "But I want to." I finished, and Maya fell silent, looking scattered as I pulled her closer. Maybe even a little frightened. "It can never be official. I learned a long time ago that three people cannot keep a secret. Likewise, commissioning a ring is too much of a risk. But if we kept it quiet¡ªventured into the Everwood while we are in Kholis, spoke our vows to the gods with the stars as witness..."


    "And how would your future lady wife feel upon discovering such a trespass?" Maya asked, unsure.


    "Ideally, she would not." I tilted my head to the side. "But if she found out regardless, I''d like to think she wouldn''t care."


    "Gods¡ª"


    "I''m serious." I argued, picturing it, as I had countless times. "There is always a glut of political climbers seeking the power a favorable marriage affords. Doubly so when that marriage has the added benefit of increased stability and favor with a previously hostile power. All I have to do is find a person who holds ideals similar to my own, is both gifted and motivated to lead, unlikely to stab me in the back, and holds no interest in me romantically."


    Maya grimaced, bobbing beneath the water without response. When I said nothing further she groaned and turned to the side. "The only reason you''re not making the obvious joke is that it undercuts your argument."


    "What joke?"


    "Cairn."


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about."


    Her brow narrowed in annoyance, and I had a second to flinch before a perfectly aimed wave crashed across my face. I wiped my mouth and regarded her coolly. "Finding someone who holds no interest in me will be the biggest challenge."


    "And there it is."


    I let the moment pass and grew serious. "Levity aside, it won''t be difficult. You forget the tension that sprung up between us when you learned my true name. The enclave was cautious as well, almost to the point they almost let me die of my injuries. Even if the elves and dwarves welcome us with open arms¡ªwhich they will almost assuredly not¡ªthey will be thinking strategically when it comes time to negotiate an alliance. And there is no better recipe for a passionless marriage than one born of necessity."


    "And you''d be happy with that?"


    "If it meant we could be together, unhampered by duty or jealousy? Yes. It''s not perfect. But I haven''t forgotten what happens when I ignore my responsibilities for love, and that is a lesson I presume neither of us would be quick to repeat."


    Maya gazed pensively into the water. "It''s a relief, to hear you speak about the future so. There have been times I''ve wondered how much of your impetus to unite the Kingdom came out of necessity."


    "You know me better than that."


    "I do." Her eyes slid to me. "I felt your desperation, when your kingdom burned and your people were put to the sword. Your enmity. The hatred you felt for her¡ªthat you feel for her¡ªwas all-encompassing. It wouldn''t be unreasonable if, now unexpectedly faced with the possibility of a future where she finds herself in a watery grave, you found pause to reconsider."


    "On the contrary," I said, mulling over her words. "I''m not sure anything has changed. From what little I understand, Thoth has lived through this period of history countless times. She is no stranger to conflict, and watching their duel at the end of my first life, the only reasonable explanation is that she''s fought my father many, many times. The battle was too one-sided. Even for her."


    Maya''s brow furrowed, as she recalled it. "If memories were books, this one''s spine would be falling off. I always come back to it. The rout was disturbingly decisive. That''s the obvious part. What''s more impressive is the method. All that power at her fingertips..."


    "And she chooses the knives instead."


    "Exclusively. Wielding knives and wearing leathers against an armored opponent with a bastard sword." Maya shook her head. "It speaks to a level of confidence that approaches lunacy."


    "My guess is, she''s simply done it so many times it no longer poses a challenge." I said, letting that hang for a moment. "And if that''s true¡ªand Gil is her favored opponent, you really think he never leveraged the navy against her?"


    "She''ll be ready for it." Maya concluded glumly.


    "On that, no one can be certain. It''s less of a sure thing than my father believes it to be, but even so, there are a few things working in our favor." I held up a finger. "Prejudice is predictable. The dwarven siege weapons are not the sort of thing King Gil would rely on without cause. His distaste for non-humans runs deep, and even if he has been more open-minded as of late, substituting a dwarven weapon in place of one of our own, in his mind, is tantamount to admitting that the former is better. Which he would almost never do unless there is a significant threat, one which he is taking seriously. At his core the king is a rationalist. He loathes nothing more than defeat, and will do whatever is necessary to avoid it. But his arrogance undercuts his practicality. And from the sound of it, he''s been looking into the siege weapons for some time. They''re not quick to adapt or implement. So for any of this to transpire, he must take the threat very seriously, very early."


    Her face lit up. "The letter you sent with the rangers, chock full of predictions to prove your future-sight was true. It alerted him almost at the very beginning, where Thoth might have spent months or years beyond his awareness otherwise."


    I nodded. "It''s possible that all of this has come to pass some other way, and Thoth is prepared regardless. But at the very least, it''s far less likely. So, I''m cautious. But... as terrifying as this is to say... hopeful."

 Chapter 253: Fracture LVIII

    Chapter 253: Fracture LVIII


    Much of what we discussed in the bath that evening had gone unspoken for so long, living only in the silent part of my mind that still hoped, that it felt oddly vulnerable, laying it all out bare.


    But, to my great relief, it appeared to be a great consolation to both of us.


    We talked about many things. Some more meaningful than others. Plans for the future, great and small. The energy between us, which for months had been taut with tension of one sort or another, flattened out. As if whatever we were¡ªwhatever we could be¡ªwas a foregone conclusion. And for a brief moment that I will cherish for as long as I can remember it, we said very little at all. Simply basked in each other''s company, breathing in the warmth and steam from the bath, letting the hot water relieve our muscles of the trials of the day.


    I imagined it as anyone would. Once the greater threats were resolved and conflict faded to a long and prosperous peace, days ruling in service of the kingdom, my duties completed, the many nights and mornings I''d spend with her. Our family. How natural it would feel. How right it would be, without the existential threat in play.


    Perhaps unwisely, I allowed myself to dream.


    A pounding on the outer door roused us both from the revelry. For an instant of abject terror, I imagined the armored fist of a black shield kicking in the door, others behind him rushing in to accost Maya and take her away.


    It was an unfounded fear. That was what I told myself even as I tied a towel around my waist, retrieved Resting Blade by its sheath and held it waiting in my off-hand, opening the door a crack. Instead of a guardsman, I found the bespectacled visage of a servant. His jowls were flushed red, and his rotund figure appeared to be at the lead of three other servants, one of whom was my regular attendant.


    "Is there a problem?"


    "That depends." The rotund man wrung his hands, expression dripping with displeasure. "You are dining with the king and queen in their chambers in less than a half hour, and from the look of it are as unprepared as the day you were born." His voice rose at the end, growing shrill.


    My eyes widened, and I turned, glancing at the ornate standing clock in the corner. Time had somehow gotten away from me.


    /////


    What followed was madness. I''m not sure who, exactly, gave the servants the impression that the family dinner was an overly formal affair. Perhaps they simply assumed it, given the absolute rarity of the occasion.


    Either way, the terms of my surrender was the wartime conversion of my rooms as a joint staging area. I was aggressively measured, then shoved into a tightly tailored embroidered coat that felt ready to rip straight down the back the second I so much as raised my arms.


    Out of the corner of my eye, beyond the privacy panel, I glimpsed Maya grimacing as she was stuffed into a bodice. "We..." She grunted, and the lady-in-waiting murmured an apology. "We did not discuss how to approach this dinner at all, which was the entire reason for my visit."


    "Was it?" I asked, holding back a laugh.


    "Yes. Be serious, Cairn!"


    "Very well." I paused as the servant buttoned my shirt to my throat. "My sisters should be easy. They already love you. Annette more than Sera, but it''s close. You''ve already charmed the king, who is by far the biggest challenge, and my mother gifted you a dress."


    "Which is undoubtedly a kind and noble gesture." Maya winced, and what little of her I could see was yanked out of view. "Nevertheless, with such a fortuitous head start I''d prefer to avoid summarily placing foot into mouth."


    "What do you want to know?"


    "Everything." She paused, then narrowed it down. "How often should I speak? Is there a possibility for anything unexpected I should prepare for?"


    "You''re a guest of honor. Speak when you wish." I considered her question, running through the rather short list of things that could possibly go wrong. "It didn''t occur to me before now, but my Uncle Luther will probably be there."


    "Met him a few times in passing, since you returned to Whitefall. He seems... pleasant enough," Maya commented, her speech hampered by something the servants were doing.


    "He is. Generally." I half-shrugged. "But sibling rivalries run deep. Be ready for my father to make scathing remarks in his direction, and for Luther to do the same. Whatever you do, don''t take anyone''s side or get in the middle of it."


    "Being in need of guidance doesn''t mean I was born yesterday," Maya said, and I could almost hear the eye-roll. "What else?"


    "It varies, but on some occasions the king prefers to control the conversation. Feel free to change the topic, but if he changes it back, leave it where it is."


    "Got it."


    "Annette may speak to you as if you are stupid. Not because she believes you are, but because she tried to communicate more subtly earlier which went unnoticed. Especially if she''s trying to warn or look out for you in some way. She talks to me the same way often."


    "Understood. The King and Queen?"


    "Well... it''s..." I trailed off, a little taken aback by the realization that I wasn''t sure. The royal family spent little time together as a general rule. In reality, factoring in my mother''s death in my first life, and how liberally I''d imbibed to blur the pain of her passing, there was very little I could recall of their shared dynamic. Individually their counsel and personalities were completely different. Their arguments were rare, terrible even from the safety of distance. Looking back at some of the advice she''d given me, knowing the agenda behind it¡ªthat from my earliest memories, her intention was likely to sow the seeds that eventually led to insurrection¡ªtainted it somehow.


    If things were the same as they''d always been, Elaria''s position would be understandable. Almost expected. The King had a history of cruelty that was impossible to overlook. If he''d continued the same behavior in this version of things where she was still alive, of course she''d have pause. But the fact that, despite all the improvements he''d made she was still trying to supplant him left a foul taste in my mouth.


    It was as if all her moralizing and stubborn insistence on imparting what was right and wrong was nothing more than a well-dressed preamble for yet another grab for power. Because if she''d succeeded, it was far easier to rule through a pliant son than an obstinate husband.


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    I banished the thought before it ruined my mood and answered Maya to the best of my ability. "The Queen will likely be withdrawn. There''s been friction between us as of late, and she likely would not attend if the king didn''t specifically request the presence of everyone involved."


    "Should I try to engage her? Draw out her interest?"


    I barked a laugh, as something about her wording reminded me of the brisk discussions we often had immediately preceding combat. "Ordinarily, that would be kind. But this is a day of celebration. If the Queen wishes to be reserved, that is her right, granted by the gods themselves. Who are we to argue?" It sounded more bitter than I''d intended.


    Maya let it pass, pivoting instead. "Kholis?"


    "After what we managed today? No one will take issue with us taking a holiday to travel the countryside and visit old friends."


    The servant slid a jacket over my shoulders, while the other looked me up and down, eventually nodding. I glanced in the floor-length mirror. It was gaudy, and there was more attention to the embroidery than strictly necessary. But to the servants'' credit, they''d done wonders with my hair, and I looked the part of prince far more convincingly than in recent memory.


    "You''ve done well," I told them.


    "For the time we had." The rotund man sniffed, fawning over my complexion like a prospector studying a gem. "More powder, perhaps?"


    "Elphion, no. Someone will try to shovel me up and dump me outside." I declined, stepping out onto the main floor. As I waited, I watched the clock tick forward and tried to not look like I was eavesdropping on the mutterings behind the dressing panel. The muttering grew louder until it stopped altogether.


    "Did they strangle you into submission?"


    "It is fine. A little less functional than I''m used to." Footsteps echoed as Maya awkwardly walked out from behind the divider.


    The emerald dress poured over her, curving across her form in a circular manner somehow reminiscent of greenery in the wind. Thin straps overlooked a generous neckline. It was like a nymph from the tales had come to life and left the forest, venturing to lands beyond. The gemstones in her necklace shone like the summer sun, reflected by the stones housed in her bracelet below. Her raven hair, typically restricted in a bun or tail hung freely straight down, though the servants had not been able to entirely wrest it of its natural waves.


    I smiled despite myself. "Green becomes you."


    "I''m... presentable?" She asked, shifting oddly again.


    "Presentable." I agreed, circling around her, looking for the problem. It didn''t take long to find it. Glamorous as the dress was, it''d been tailored specifically for a human. I raised a hand to wave over one of her attendants, a serious-looking woman with a scar across her nose. "She''ll need an adjustment."


    "Cairn, it''s fine," Maya hissed.


    The woman blinked. "What sort of adjustment, milord?"


    I bent my index finger against my thumb, forming a circle. "A small opening, slightly beneath the small of her back."


    "To what purpose?" She asked, perplexed.


    For her tail. Obviously.


    While I worked out how to say that politely, Maya cut in. "So all my appendages can be present and accounted for. A small slit or vent would suffice."


    Finally, drawing the correct conclusions, the woman stared at the spot to be modified and slowly shook her head. "It would not be proper."


    "It''s fine," Maya insisted.


    "Sorry, why would it not be proper?" I insisted.


    "It''s a priceless dress, your grace. Courtesy of a panthanian master tailor your mother fancies. Defacing it would be unconscionable."


    "Ah. I thought it looked a little like a Beaumont."


    "Yes, milord."


    "So you won''t do it."


    "I''d prefer not to, your grace."


    "Despite the fact that you have made many other alterations that could be, in flexible terms, considered defacing."


    "Yes, milord." A bead of sweat appeared on the woman''s brow.


    "Very well." I cleared my throat. In the old days if this sort of thing happened I would have been apt to throw a tantrum. But the woman was just being mindful of her position and feared losing it. She didn''t care if anyone sullied the Beaumont, she just didn''t want to catch the blame for it.


    I leaned forward and whispered in Maya''s ear. "Be honest. On a scale of one to ten, how uncomfortable will you be if the current situation goes unaddressed?"


    She pressed her lips together and grimaced, then whispered back. "A solid seven. Nothing I cannot bear."


    "For my frame of reference, what is a ten?"


    "...Being torn apart by vivisectaurs."


    "Right." I winced. "Then we should prioritize your comfort so you do not spend the entire dinner contorted in agony, yes?"


    Once she nodded, I strode to my desk and pulled it open. "Cephur sent over his congratulations." I pointed out the bottle of wine. "That we can save for later, but this, you''ll find far more useful in the short term." The lowhil blade flashed dark jade in the light.


    Maya''s eyes widened in recognition. "Your sword breaker."


    I nodded. "Not quite, but close enough. Same size. Similar weight. Feels smaller and lighter, but so were my hands. After it broke, I expected it would be years before I found another, but here we are."


    "Always reliable, our ranger."


    "He is." I closed the distance between us, gesturing for Maya to turn around. For a moment the maid appeared ready to comment but thought better of it. I traced the fabric with my fingertips, trailing down until I felt a slight protrusion. "This is a measure twice cut once situation, I''m afraid. What do you need?"


    "A vertical cut." Maya held up her thumb and forefinger, demonstrating the span. "Shorter than you think. I''ll need to reinforce it later to keep it from splitting further, but it will do for now."


    I did as she asked, cutting as carefully as possible. After a rash of awkward shifting and shimmying, the spade of Maya''s tail emerged, a little rumpled from the exchange but freed. While the servant wasn''t willing to make the initial split, she was happy to reinforce it with stitching to prevent the alteration from splitting further.


    Maya breathed out in obvious relief. "Thank the lord below."


    "Thank you, lord below." I offered her my elbow.


    As much as she tried to hide it, there was an obvious snort. "Can I look forward to a lifetime of paternal puns?"


    "If we''re lucky."


    She looped her arm through mine, and we walked through the long hallways of the castle. In a way, the preparation had served as the last remaining obstacle in our path. There was no immediate peril, and despite the rash of recent unpleasantness, I found myself truly grateful for the moment of respite. A warmth rose within me, a feeling so strange and foreign I was hesitant to recognize it for what it was.


    Happiness.


    How long had it been since I''d been happy?


    Foreign as it was, I clung to it protectively, shielding the spark amidst the windstorm.


    Long shadows from the setting sun chased us down the hallway. A few black shields rushed past coming from the direction of my father''s quarters, their faceless helmets restricting any insight beyond the obvious hurry. I nearly called out to one, inquiry dying on my lips as he disappeared around the corner, moving faster than most could.


    I paused, listening for the undercurrents of battle. Faraway shouting or clashing steel. But there was nothing beneath the quiet evening din of the castle. But the King''s quarters were unguarded. A single servant stood before the doors, stricken and pale. Beside me, I felt Maya''s posture change, shift defensively.


    Before I could ask any questions the servant ushered us in, all but pushing the two of us inside.


    There were signs of a disruption. Spilled food and scattered plates, a handful of overturned chairs. It was a relief to see the King and Queen together¡ªthough together might have been an overstatement. They''d chosen places at opposite ends of the already long table, collective demeanors sullen and irritated, but ultimately unharmed. The light played oddly across their grim faces as the overhead chandelier swung side to side, the majority of its mana-lamps blocked by the shadow nestled in its center, a repetitive drip splattering into a growing puddle at the center of the dark wood''s finish.


    "What took you?" Father asked.

 Chapter 254: Fracture LIX

    Chapter 254: Fracture LIX


    Looking beyond the bleeding, swinging obvious, I took a moment to silently read between the lines. The Queen and King had arrived early¡ªmarkedly early by father''s standards, as he tended to delay his arrival to civil engagements as long as possible. Judging from the sour demeanor between them, he''d been rewarded for his efforts with an argument. I was almost certain the argument had occurred before the inciting incident rather than after, as from a quick outward look they appeared unharmed, and the recipient of most of the violence was now impaled on the chandelier, slowly swinging back and forth, casting odd shadows on the ceiling above, where the hardworking chain oscillated precariously.


    The mood was dire. I felt a pang of sympathy when I noticed the gold and violet that adorned his chest and realized the King was wearing his regalia. He only fished it out of the depths of his wardrobe for his most stringent and official responsibilities, or when he wished to convey respect during a negotiation with someone he considered to hold a similar degree of power.


    Suffice it to say he did not wear it often.


    By contrast, the Queen appeared to have just rolled out of bed. A dark, modest nightgown wrinkled over slumped shoulders, and her unpowdered visage bloodless and pallid. The singular ring she¡¯d donned thudded against the arm of the chair as the Queen idly drummed her fingers in a steady rhythm.


    Almost immediately, I was concerned for her health. "Mother, are you well?"


    "Of course!" She smiled thinly. "My dear husband is prioritizing his role as head of the family. Despite never showing the slightest degree of interest in such matters before, it is such a joy to see him finally making an effort."


    "Good gods, woman. You act as if I''m the one who charged in here with a blade, threatening disembowelment." My father''s eyes rolled up towards the ceiling.


    "We don''t know if he was threatening disembowelment. It cannot be said with any accuracy that he was threatening anything at all. He barely raised his weapon before you went to work."


    "The castle was infiltrated." Father recited slowly, cheek planted on his palm, listing off the facts one at a time. "And the intruder approached us in a hostile manner and was dealt with accordingly. The most uncommon thing about this occurrence is that he made it this far, and that it happened within your sight. Had this one''s end escaped your vision, you would not have cared."


    "Isn''t it wonderful?" Mother directed a faraway look towards me. "The gods have given your father the same gift of foresight you yourself hold? He cannot only see the possible future, but divine our reactions to it. We are truly blessed."


    "Silence." The King rumbled.


    The thickening quiet pervaded. When it became obvious that no one else was going to speak, I cleared my throat. "It''s... probably for the best if we reschedule."


    "Nonsense." The King shook his head.


    Mother covered her face with her hand. "The evening is already spoiled, Gil."


    All three of us jumped as King Gil''s mighty fist slammed down onto the table, glassware and plates along its length shuddering from the impact. "And let them win? Let these cowardly knife-eared fucks ruin our evening?"


    "Apologies, Queen Elaria." Maya stepped forward and curtsied deeply, keeping a close measure of the Queen even as she did so. "But given that your health is my greatest priority, and stress can aggravate your condition, I''d like to examine you."


    "She''s fine. For all her quivering and hand-wringing, he came nowhere near her." Gil rumbled.


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    "Still. It is my duty." Maya held eye-contact with the King, head low but gaze unyielding. They''d established something of an understanding when they''d met shortly after the clash near the enclave, and it was a relief when the King relented, waving her forward.


    Maya approached the Queen and took her arm, the diagnostic magic glowing light green at her fingertips. I watched at first, eventually realizing that it would take a while, and comported myself near the King.


    "Have... all the necessary precautions been taken?"


    The King leaned back into the wooden chair, more weary than angry. "The guards were alerted, and the castle grounds are being searched as we speak. It''s a waste of time."


    I took a moment to interpret that. "You''re sure he was acting alone?"


    "Yes." The King gave me a tired look, barbed with something else.


    "And you''re certain you don''t wish to reschedule?"


    "Yes."


    "Fine, fine." I retreated backwards, palms out, knowing better than to pester when the King''s hackles were up.


    The first course was a number of small plates filled with pre-dinner fare. I spotted thrush, quail, even a few songbirds. Some¡ªthe songbirds and an unfortunate platter of venison coffyns¡ªwere beyond hope and spattered with viscera, but several arranged at either side of the center seemed intact and untainted. I salvaged some fritters and the remaining coffyns.


    Seemingly satisfied, Maya released my mother''s arm. "Mana levels are slightly elevated, but within an acceptable range and dormant. No change from before."


    "What a relief." The Queen replied.


    There was a sharp knock at the door, quieting the room. When no one immediately answered, the door opened, and Sera walked in. She looked around at us, sensing the mood without immediately divining the source. "Did you all start without... me..." her eyes bugged out of her head as she looked upward. "Why''s there a dead elf stuck on the chandelier?"


    To her credit it was a surreal, almost nonsensical sight. Despite the elevated height of the fixture, the elf appeared to have somehow fallen directly on top of it with enough force that the sharpened tines had pierced through its back and ribcage. The intruder was splayed out across them, head hanging upside down, mouth open in a now permanent expression of shock. Sera''s surprise narrowed to suspicion as she noticed the same things I had, eyes resting on the red flowing markings across the elf''s forehead, lingering on his light skin and dark veins. He was a drephin, a rare variant of elves thought to be extinct. The same group had sent the Elven woman that attempted to assassinate me in my rooms and had tried to ambush our caravan on our way back from the Enclave.


    At the time I''d kept that information to myself. However, it seemed obvious now that the situation had changed. The Drephin threat wasn''t going to simply vanish. Secrecy would only hurt us. When I considered doing so, the rage that simmered beneath the King''s placid demeanor gave me pause. Because it wasn''t the assassination attempt that angered him so. It was the fact that it had happened in the presence of the Queen. That was what had truly stoked his rage. If I shared my experience now, he would inevitably stomp down to Lord Erebus''s estate, and before the night was over, Whitefall would have two dead Drephin and no possibility of answers.


    Better to bring the prisoner to him in a few days once he''d had the chance to cool down.


    I cleared my throat loudly, directing a question to father before Sera could speak. "You''ve noticed the similarity, yes? Between this attacker and the ones that accosted us on the road?"


    "Yes." Was the clipped answer. At first I thought that was all he was going to say until he sighed and relented. "More Elven cultists. How trite. Persistent, ungrateful fucks. I spread the doors of the capital wide open to all who wish to enter, and this is how they thank me. We''ll be tightening security across the castle, then the city at large. This will not happen again."


    The Queen chuckled. "As if a single self-serving effort is enough to undo a lifetime worth of hostility."


    "Woman."


    I ''accidentally'' slid a plate into place too hard, clashing against others in an audible crack that drew attention. "Apologies." I hastened, before they could return to their argument. "The good news is, there''s plenty left to eat even before the chefs and servants make their second round. The songbirds are soiled, but there''s plenty untouched."


    The door cracked open, and Annette stuck her head through the opening, the corners of her mouth turned downward in a scowl. "Pardon, but there are two black-shields with a ladder who insist that it''s needed here and refuse to elaborate."


    I glanced upwards. "Well... it is."


    "It... is?" Annette''s head cocked in confusion. She entered the room and turned back to hold the door open for the guards that followed behind her, before she finally looked upward. "Ah."

 Chapter 255: Fracture LX

    Chapter 255: Fracture LX


    We stood in a half circle on one side of the table, while my parents sat at the end, continuing to pointedly ignore each other.


    Annette watched, transfixed, as the black shields strained against the weight of the late intruder, their polished armor reflecting the flickering candlelight. "He looks peaceful, somehow. Almost like he''s ascending," she murmured, her voice soft against the grim tableau.


    "Don''t gawk, sweetling." My mother warned, hand shielding her face, blocking the elf from her vision.


    Sera snorted. "Really? From where I''m standing he looks the opposite of peaceful."


    I had to agree. I crossed my arms and looked over to Father. "How''d he end up there?"


    "He ascended." Came the surly reply.


    "Come on," I amped up the charm, trying to lighten the mood. "We''re all curious."


    My sisters nodded in unison, momentarily united by shared curiosity.


    "There''s no story worthy of song. Not even enough for a chorus." The King rumbled. When we all just waited for more, he rolled his eyes and continued. "Chuckle fuck thought he was the first magician in history to harness the wind for mobility. Used some advanced technique or multi-element spell weave or whatever the hells to make himself faster. Lighter too. A blade that finds a vein doesn''t need significant weight behind it, and being able to run on walls makes it far easier for that blade to find purchases."


    "Sounds difficult."


    "Not particularly. He wasn''t clever. Charged straight in." The King half-shrugged, a hint of a smile ghosting across his weathered face. "I''ve killed with a fist to the head before, but with all the spells making him lighter? The punch didn''t kill him. He flew and landed as Elphion intended. Hells curse him."


    "Perhaps it would be wise to take what is left and relocate?" Maya tried, her tail swishing with discomfort. "There is no small number of places to dine throughout the castle, and we''d all likely be more comfortable without¡ª"


    One of the black shields jostled the impaled figure, and a gout of dark fluid poured out from the man''s pant leg, suddenly freed from the movement. Once the torrent was over it continued to drip, the sound a morbid rhythm against the floor as a foul stink pervaded through the air.


    "Without that." Maya finished, nostrils flaring slightly.


    From his displeased expression, the King clearly disagreed, looking between the two of us with eyes like flint. "Do you know why this is so important?"


    I shook my head.


    "From the beginning of my reign I have understood the difference between celebration and gratitude." He let the words sink in as he looked between us, each syllable measured and weighted with purpose. "When a new or untested officer manages their forces exceedingly well in a time of conflict, I ensure they are celebrated. Award titles, and deeds of land. But before all of that, I invite them here. Because the general who is celebrated without appreciation creates pride without loyalty." He met my eye, a twinkle of amusement in his expression. "And while I have no reason at all to question your loyalty, I now have many reasons to offer my thanks. So it is important that we stay. We will be patient. Once the servants perform their duty, we will dine as the gods intended."


    /////


    The servants were summoned. We departed.


    When we returned, I marveled at their efficiency. Despite the brevity of their efforts, not a trace remained of the violent end that had played out mere moments before. The long table was immaculate, its dark finish still sheening with moisture, the solution the servants had used to clean its surface leaving a pleasant fresh scent that almost completely masked the iron tang of blood beneath.


    Above us, the massive chandelier¡ªnow cleansed of blood and purged of remains¡ªswayed almost imperceptibly, as if still disturbed by the violence it had witnessed. The ornate fixture hung at an unnatural angle, tilting upward and left like a wounded creature favoring its injured side. A silent harbinger of the unbalanced evening to come.


    Other than that, and the sickened look that haunted my mother''s expression well into the third course, it was as if the entire thing hadn''t happened.


    I was in the middle of retelling the events of the sewer, when I realized there was someone missing from our family dinner. Someone important who had nonetheless escaped notice. I looked around illogically, as if he''d simply slipped beneath my awareness, still finding him absent. "Where''s... Uncle Luther?"


    Mother sighed loudly and turned away. She''d spent most of the evening sighing, or staring off into the distance, appearing unhappy in some way. This time, however, the King''s reaction mirrored hers. "Finish the retelling, son." He commanded tersely.


    "We have the rest of the evening for that. And if he arrives late, he''ll want to hear it, which will put the rest of you in the unenviable position of hearing the same drab story twice." R?A?¦­O¦ÂE?S?


    "Oh, we''re all quite accustomed to such indecencies." The Queen took a long pull of her wine and refused to look at the King, who was staring at her from the side. Her attention went to Maya, instead, and she raised her glass approvingly. "It suits you."


    "Thank you, milady." Maya ran her fingers across the hem of the dress, caught off guard by the sudden address. "Receiving such a gift was an utter surprise. From what I understand, it''s quite rare."


    "So they say." The Queen agreed, swirling the burgundy liquid in her glass contemplatively. "When I was young, I found such displays of excess distasteful. Even loathsome. It was not until a few years after I was married that I came to recognize luxury as a balm. Small pleasures that go a long way in offsetting the disquiet that comes along with realizing one has hitched their wagon to a horse that does not entirely share their direction, and there is nothing left to do about it."


    Annoyance coursed through me. It was too much to expect my mother to simply be over our earlier conflict, but I''d hoped she''d at least find it within herself to be polite.


    Maya''s lips thinned as she attempted to smile. "Your concern and counsel is appreciated. Truly. I am lucky, as Cairn and I share the same vision."


    "Enjoy that while it lasts," she offered, her words delicately wrapped in silk yet edged with steel.


    "What¡ª" I started, increasingly certain that whatever impression the elder princess had gotten was entirely off base, when glass shattered at the end of the table.


    "Oh my," Queen Elaria lifted her arm, staring at the stem of a glass that was now devoid of flute, its end now decorated in shards. Her vacant stare looked unfocused, inebriated, even.


    "Elphion, mother." I rose quickly, intending to take it off her hands. "It''s barely past seven. Apparently I get my love of drink from you."


    She snorted as she pulled the broken wine-stem away from me. "And little else. It''s not every day I witness the tragic end of a living being."


    "An elf. Who was trying to kill us. Tragic indeed." The King rumbled, his voice a low growl of thunder before the storm.


    I tried again. "Give it here before you hurt yourself."


    Something stubborn surfaced in my mother''s expression, a hardening around her eyes that I recognized from childhood confrontations. "I existed before they brought you to me, naked and screaming. And even without your aid, I''ll continue to exist." My mother tipped the remnants of the glass towards me, then pulled it away at the last moment and, in a puerile gesture, let the remnant fall to the ground, where it shattered with a crystalline finality.


    Hurt, growing more irritated by the moment, and entirely unsure of what to do, I turned my back on her and returned to my seat. By the time I sat down there was a fresh glass of burgundy in her hands, poured nearly to the rim. "Right." She raised the glass higher and looked around. "To my children. I''ve tried so hard to teach you to think for yourselves, to find your own way in the world despite your responsibilities. And provide the best measure upon which to make your own judgements. I do this, of course, because the way is fraught with peril."


    Even without aid my ass. You would have died if I hadn''t intervened.


    Annoyed as I was, I could never say it. So I crossed my arms and went the other direction. "What sort of peril, mother?"


    "Perhaps the Queen is not feeling well and should return to her chambers." Annette tried. No one listened.


    "So speaks the daughter who cannot be bothered to answer my summons after her disappearance." Queen Elaria''s gaze rested on Annette briefly. Unprepared for the sudden spotlight, Annette''s mouth tightened, and she gazed down at her lap.


    "Apologies, Mother, I''d¡ª"


    "¡ªJust been through a traumatic experience and needed time alone to recover." I finished for her. Annette had never mentioned any sort of conflict, though she was the sort to keep such things private.


    "Cairn." Sera hissed, a warning in her voice.


    I ignored her and continued. "No, please. Let''s return to the topic of your toast. What peril? You''ve barely participated in any planning regarding the arch-mage, so it''s unlikely you''re referring to her."


    "Planning?" Queen Elaria snorted, fixed me with an incredulous look, then snorted again. ¡°Does employing dominant weapons with dark histories to obliterate a sea-bound target require such intense drafting that the Queen herself must take part?¡±


    "Maybe. I''d be delighted to hear of any alternatives, unless all you have to offer is criticism."


    "Don''t¡ª" The King tried, then rested the meat of his palm against his forehead as the Queen''s attention snapped to him.


    "So glad you asked." The Queen said, still staring pinions through the side of the King''s head. "As I''ve commented in private to no end, there is still time for an armistice."


    I groaned reflexively, and the King''s massive chair creaked as he leaned forward, mouth tight in fury. "There will be no negotiations or discussion of terms."


    "Her fleet will be forced to traverse the Tiverwind Strait to return north. With some well-placed gold it''d be easy enough to force a meeting."


    "And deny us the opportunity to stage an ambush at the same ideal location." Gil held out a palm out towards me. "This feral bitch has repeatedly struck out at a member of the royal family with the intention to maim and kill one of your children. Does that mean nothing to you?"


    "The safety of my children is tantamount." She stared back at him, unflinching. "They are all I have left that matters. So it is important to me that whatever we do next, secures their future."


    As the King''s visage was looking increasingly like an overripe tomato ready to burst, I stepped in, trying to de-escalate. "I... understand where you''re coming from mother. Truly, I do. I remember the tales, the histories. How countless bloody, horrific conflicts could be easily resolved if both sides simply set the immediate qualms aside and met to clarify intent and sue for peace."


    "Then you agree?" The queen asked, hope flickering in her eyes like the last ember in a dying fire.


    Slowly, I shook my head, even as it hurt. A part of me¡ªthe child who once sat wide-eyed at her feet, absorbing parables of mercy and wisdom¡ªstill yearned to believe in her version of the future. That idyllic canvas painted in bright, hopeful strokes had been the tapestry of my dreams for so long that tearing it down felt like excising a piece of my soul. Yet here I stood, hands bloodied by necessity, watching as reality''s harsh winds shredded those childhood illusions one by one.


    "Thoth is... different." I swallowed, finding courage as Maya''s hand slipped into mine beneath the table. "There''s no place for her in your world, where people work towards the common good and kindness is easy to come by. If she found such a place, along with mocking its very existence, she''d do whatever she could to burn it all down. And just as there''s no place for her in your world, there certainly isn''t room for her in mine."


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    "How many leaders do you think have uttered similar words to those you speak at this very moment?" Her eyes were frigid pools, reflecting nothing. "How many generals do you imagine have assigned their enemies the description of evil, maligning them as the frothing unwashed masses because it made the violence in their hearts simpler to act upon?"


    "Did father not share the account of my experience with you?"


    "I did," he answered.


    "Then you know I''m not drawing from a hypothetical." I gritted my teeth, tamping down on the sudden surge of anger that welled up as I remembered every cruel transgression. "The first time I spoke to Thoth, in my visions, I was fully prepared to barter."


    There was warmth on my cheek as Maya leaned in to whisper in my ear. "It''s alright. Tell her. Hearing it straight from the source could help."


    "She..." my voice caught in my throat, a dam against memories that threatened to flood through. "They''d just killed Father. I still held a weapon, but there were too many of them. They had me cold. Thoth... approached me. Spat her mockery. I would have..."


    Lost my mind in terror.


    "... fought, or tried to." I amended, hiding the shame. "But they had Annette. So I had to try, for her sake." Across the table, I felt my little sister''s eyes as she quietly observed. "And gods, did I try. It didn''t matter what was offered. Breadth or scope. Appealing to her rational sensibilities, and later, her ego, did nothing." Hatred seeped into my voice like poison. "And when I begged... she laughed. Tormented me as a cat would a mouse. Allowed me to believe she was going to spare Annette, and then..."


    A profound silence settled over the table, heavy as a burial shroud.


    The King spoke, his voice gravelly and low. "When you''ve spoken of this before¡ªeven described the flow of events. You''ve given no detail to the most important matter. How was it?"


    I laughed. It was so unlike him to make a joke to lighten the mood that for a second, it threw me off completely. "The fight?"


    "Obviously."


    "Spectacular, of course." I thought back to it, feeling an echo of the same awe I''d experienced that night. "Both of you were incredible to behold. You pressed her so intensely with blows strong enough to cleave shoulder to shoulder. Yet... she just... never broke. It was like you''d fought the same fight countless times, and if things were fair, it could have been anyone''s bout. But she always knew exactly what you were about to do before you so much as moved. And given that, the advantage went to her."


    "Foresight." The King rumbled, lost in thought. "Difficult to counter. But not impossible."


    "Yes." I directed my attention back to Mother. "And that''s hardly the only time. I spoke to her on the road to Whitefall and endured several encounters in the Sanctum. The arch-mage cannot be reasoned with."


    "And what happened in the Sanctum?"


    "She threw the entire sanctum into jeopardy and painted a target on my back¡ª"


    "The second time." The Queen clarified, in a voice that implied she was searching for something specific.


    I shifted uncomfortably, knowing exactly what she was driving at with no method to avoid it. "It was perhaps the only time I ever caught her unprepared. We found her... seemingly repairing a prime ley line at the heart of the sanctum. Given the degree of corruption we saw, at that point it seemed wise to allow her to continue that work and postpone our conflict. Which she actually agreed to."


    "And then?"


    "Does it matter?" I sat back, staring at her defiantly. "Whatever peace that agreement sowed was temporary. Fragile. Someone was going to break it eventually and send us plunging back to where we started. Thoth herself admitted that she''d intended to go back on it as soon as she finished with the ley line."


    "But she didn''t need to, did she?" Elaria pressed, refusing to let it go, her words striking with the precision of an assassin''s blade.


    "Of course, because fuck context, fuck nuance, all that matters right now is that you unspool enough rope to hang me with." I snapped back. "Because the heroes in your stories are perfect. They''re never gut shot, bleeding out, doing whatever they can to survive while the demons whisper about the best methods to torment them. They make their haughty decisions from high-towers and proselytize over the implications of potential outcomes. People don''t die if they take too long to decide on a course of action, or hells, die regardless, on account of the smallest, most insignificant action that somehow tips the balance and snuffs out a life."


    The Queen blinked back tears, the moisture catching the light like diamonds. For a moment I thought I''d gone too far. When she spoke her voice was low, throaty. "It''s not about being perfect. It''s about being better."


    "In this very life, the evil you''re comparing me to tied an innocent girl¡ªa person I loved¡ªto a chair, and subjected that person to horrors until they died. By comparison her death will be quick. Arguably painless." My jaw quivered. "I''d say I''m a great deal better."


    "There was no malice in what Cairn did." Maya interrupted, flushing from the number of eyes suddenly on her. "We were coordinating with allies at that point. Communication in the Sanctum is difficult even on the surface. Only the most rudimentary methods work, and those that do seldom function deeper in, so they were mostly moving independently, working towards the same goal. The ceasefire was called in earnest but entirely unexpected. We had no immediate method of contacting our allies who rushed in and attempted to capture Thoth, simultaneously violating the parameters and underestimating the seriousness of the threat."


    "I want to hear him say it." The Queen insisted, her gaze like a vise that would not release.


    "Elaria, for the love of the gods. This is meant to be a celebration." Gil cut in, his massive hands clenched into fists.


    "No, it''s fine." I held up a hand and feigned a smile that felt like broken glass. "You''re right. Ignoring nuance, ignoring context, because they apparently don''t exist within the castle walls. Given the choice between making a foolish decision that would have led to not only my death, but the deaths of my allies and countless infernals, I moved to neutralize the threat before she could escape. It didn''t work, but nevertheless I. broke. my. oath. I''m. like. him. That''s what you want to hear, isn''t it?"


    "It''s..." She swallowed. At the last moment she pivoted, seemingly backing off, growing pale. "The greater point is that you''ve never negotiated with the arch-fiend from neutral ground. Even in your vision. It''s always been contested, sometimes even hostile. And it''s impossible to have a productive negotiation with either party under direct threat."


    "Perhaps." I said, ceding the minor victory. Because it would never happen. Even if some heavy thing dropped from the heavens and killed me right then and there, and the Black Beast saw fit to take me back to the moment we found Thoth, drenched in corrosive fluid and drained of mana, the only reason I''d shown mercy to begin with was because, at that time, I¡¯d had no idea what she''d done. There''d be no betrayal this time. Because there''d be no negotiation to begin with.


    I''d do everything I could to slit her throat and be done with it.


    "Whatever we decide to do," I addressed the King, "I''d like to move sooner rather than later. Helm a survey ship out to the strait preceding the main fleet to make sure the locals understand how important this is, and how lucratively they''ll be compensated."


    "That can be arranged as early as tomorrow. Take the infernal, she''ll be an asset there." Gil agreed immediately, then considered Maya, almost an afterthought. "If the infernal is so inclined."


    "She... is." Maya relented, unhappily.


    "As much as I''d love to board a ship at first light, we have plans." I corrected, hiding a smile. "Maya and I will be heading back to our old stomping grounds for a few days, shoring up alliances with some local nobility. If you still intend to abdicate early, I''ll need all the support I can muster."


    "The gods know that''s true. Where are you headed?"


    "Kholis."


    The King nodded, as his eyes flickered in recognition. "And you will return more quickly than last time?"


    I stifled a laugh. "Yes, father."


    "Then enjoy the lapse. I''ll ensure preparations are made in your absence."


    Beside him, my mother drained another glass of wine. "Look at you both. Two peas in a pod, utterly meant for each other."


    "Say what you will, but he''s never drawn me as a weapon with which to slay you." I shot back.


    "What does he mean?" The King glowered at his wife.


    "Metaphorically, dear." Elaria looked away and entertained herself with the smooth texture of the nearby wall.


    "How long will the two of you be spending in Kholis?" Sera asked, tormenting her leg of duck with a serrated knife.


    "A few days."


    "Hold on." Annette¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Father, will Sera be joining Cairn on the ship?"


    He glanced at me, and when I nodded confirmation, conveyed the message. "She''s a banner lieutenant. That''s obvious."


    "Recently I was assigned a hold. A hold with the potential to be prosperous that requires much of my personal attention." Stoic anger radiated from her stubborn expression. "If they are both out of hand, then I am the token noble, and ergo, unable to leave Whitefall for the entire duration of their absence to evaluate my hold."


    "Some things never change." Sera rolled her eyes. "Wait your turn, halfling."


    "My turn." Annette repeated in disbelief. "What about today, when you participated in the battle I helped coordinate but was banned from observing?"


    "What do you think it was? A casual lark through the sewers?" Sera asked.


    "Trust me, it was a good one to miss." Maya said, still uneasy with the experience.


    "Even so, the hold is my responsibility. Father explicitly said as much. The last time our brother left the city he was gone for years, and I can''t risk the possibility of waiting even a fraction of that time." Annette insisted, staring between me, father, and mother. "If there must always be an heir in Whitefall, we are going to keep running into the same issue over and over."


    Fed up, King Gil pounded the table with his fist. "Was I misinformed?" He roared, not just at Annette but seemingly the entire table, swiveling as he yelled to look at us all. "Instead of a feast, was this meant to be an itemized airing of grievances? Shall I send for an abacus so we may properly tally for every sleight, sin, and disappointment?"


    The rest of us winced, bracing for the remainder of the tirade.


    Everyone but the Queen. In a moment that I can only imagine must have been fueled by drink, she laughed at him. Not a snicker. Not a quickly strangled giggle. Laughed. In his face. "Will one abacus be sufficient?"


    "I WILL SEND FOR TWO!" he thundered, each word a hammer strike against the tense silence.


    As soon as Gil gripped the table with both hands, I weaved an aegis of air and slid it beneath Maya''s chair, pulling her back as the long table fully flipped over on itself. It struck the considerable chandelier and left it even more crooked, crashing against the far wall. There was a stunned pause as the door cracked, cautious faces of servants peeking in, observing the destruction and listening, pausing long enough to ensure the disaster that created the damage had passed. When there was no further shouting, they entered matter-of-factly, several working in tandem to dislodge the flipped table from where it rested on the wall. Other than a litany of wide-eyed looks, everyone present knew better than to comment.


    The heavy oak doors swung wide as servants entered bearing silver platters. A symphony of aromas washed over us¡ªbuttery pastry, herbs crushed to release their essential oils, and the rich, primal scent of slow-roasted pork, its skin crackling and glistening with fat. The centerpiece, a rotisseried pig with an apple between its jaws, seemed to survey the royal family with glassy, judging eyes.


    The door swung open, revealing Uncle Luther. He looked a little road weary from the patrol, but fine, probably curious about why he''d been banished and summoned once more. "Evening my lord, my lady." He bowed to my parents and came up surveying the room, narrow eyes resting on the variety of food and detritus that littered the King''s typically tidy quarters. "Gods, what happened here?"


    "Sit." The King commanded.


    Luther''s brow furrowed. "But you said¡ª"


    "I know what I said. Now sit the fuck down."


    I''m still half convinced it was the ''fuck'' that did it. Then again, almost anything would have. Between the Drephin and the table, the ceiling fixture simply took too much of a beating. It was suspended by a chain, and as the aphorism goes a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.


    A brittle crack rang out overhead. In that suspended moment between sound and consequence, every eye lifted upward. The chandelier¡ªpriceless, ornate, and incredibly heavy¡ªtore free from its moorings and plummeted toward us. I summoned an aegis over the table''s bare surface just in time to witness the collision: crystal and metal against flesh and bone. The pig didn''t stand a chance. It simply ceased to exist as a recognizable entity, transformed into a volcanic eruption of broiling meat and viscera that spattered across fine silks and royal garments with democratic indifference.


    "Look what you''ve done." The King snarled at Luther.


    "You''re... really trying to blame this on me?" Luther''s mouth tightened as he made a circular gesture, desperately failing to suppress a smile. "I just got here."


    His mirth only made the King angrier. "And you find this amusing?"


    "No brother, not at all." Luther''s nose and mouth twitched as if hexed.


    "Really?" The Queen paused dramatically, then cracked a smile. "Because I find it hilarious."


    It was clear the night was over. Annette and Sera started to argue again, eventually sneaking away from the table to carry on in the hallway. My parents maintained a more indirect argument, snarling at each other with Luther as proxy, while my uncle did his absolute best, and failed, to calm everyone down.


    I reached across the space between us, fingers gentling as they found a morsel of meat tangled in Maya''s hair. Something in the absurdity of it all¡ªthis royal family dinner turned battlefield¡ªbroke through my frustration, and I found myself chuckling. Maya''s eyes met mine, a small island of sanity in chaos, her smile slightly dazed but unwavering. "Are they always like this?" she asked, her voice low enough that only I could hear, intimate despite the surrounding pandemonium.


    "The family dinners?" I shrugged. "Can''t say. This is the first one in recent memory."


    "It will be difficult to forget."


    It would. My mother''s disapproval lodged like a splinter beneath my skin¡ªsmall yet impossible to ignore, festering with each passing moment. She''d been my compass once, the voice that guided my understanding of right and wrong. Now, standing on opposite shores, I found myself adrift in ways I''d never expected. Despite being the person who taught me the art of compromise, finding a solution that appealed to both parties, she seemed completely incapable of carrying it out herself. Things had grown heated, but I hoped we''d find that middle-ground with time, once Thoth no longer threatened the kingdom.


    I watched Maya tacitly observe the chaos, slowly turning to take it all in. She was the tranquility in the storm. The missing piece that tied it all together.


    She started as I took her hand, interlocking our fingers. "Perhaps we should rouse Lucius. Begin our journey a few hours early."


    "Eager." Maya looked me up and down, her tail bouncing in atypical patterns as she made a show of giving the proposition some thought. "Is it wise to begin our journey in the middle of the night, when we''ll be traveling through the Everwood?"


    "It''s better lit than it used to be. Noticed more lamp posts and guards along the route when we returned. If we stick to the main roads and move at a steady clip, we''ll be clear of monsters."


    "And bandits?" She quirked an eyebrow.


    "I''ll do my very best to warn them you are coming."


    Maya thought about it. But she didn''t have to think for long. "Going to have to bow out. Not because I don''t want to, but because I know you haven''t properly packed." She looked up, her warm smile soft and hypnotic. "Let''s plan for first light, instead."


    "First light." I agreed.

 Chapter 256: Kholis I

    Fog moved in from the east in slow rolling clouds, pearlescent and ghostlike as it poured over stone walls and seeped through portcullis grating. It swallowed the mostly abandoned courtyard, transforming it into a spectral landscape draped in endless sparkling dew. The early snows had already melted away, but the final days of autumn were fast approaching. The bitter chill beneath the wind carried whispered promises of frost to come¡ªpromises I had now heard across two lifetimes.


    This time of year around the capital always felt poignant somehow. Heavy intimations of life and its inevitable end, creating a sense of muted urgency that infected everyone.


    People rushed from place to place, seeking both the shelter of warmth and making frantic preparations for the long dark that was to follow. All the while, they carried the simple truth buried in their hearts: It was possible to endure Winterswell¡ªnearly the entire city did, though there were always some unfortunate casualties lost to the savagery of nature¡ªbut almost impossible to fully prepare for it.


    The cold was all-encompassing, and the mind was not. No matter how many precautions were taken, something you didn''t think to account for would inevitably go wrong. Winter found the gaps in your defenses like water seeping through stone.


    The sanctum had been a complete reprieve from the demands of the north. Its many chambers varied drastically in terms of climate and magical influence. While there were polar elements among them, few reached the same deathly cold as the north, and fewer still took more than a day or two to traverse.


    For all intents and purposes, the sanctum had presented a long summer, and I was no longer the weathered northerner I''d once been. Even now, the gentle breeze cut through my cloak and the leathered armor beneath, finding the soft places I had forgotten to protect.


    The note in my hand rippled in the wind, and I looked over it again, the ink blurring where morning damp had touched it.


    TALK TO THE STABLE HAND BEFORE YOU GO.


    Finding it there, folded up and shoved beneath my door had given me a mild dose of terror. The trip originally proposed as a flight of fancy had taken on more meaning and intention and now felt important, vital even. Upon finding the note, I was almost certain we would be interrupted, only to recognize my father in the handwriting and contents, that immediate fear easing into a different kind of tension.


    The boy was posted up beneath a lantern that glowed orange, its light catching in the tendrils of fog that curled around him. He was occupied with a mug of something that steamed in the brusque air. He started when he noticed me and quickly brushed long dark bangs out of his eyes, a gesture that spoke of nervousness before nobility.


    I gave the boy an awkward wave, which he returned, nearly dropping his mug in the process. "I was told we had business to attend to."


    "Greetings milord!" The boy responded with an enthusiasm that belied the early hour. "That we do, that we do." He tipped his mug back and finished the drink without fanfare, then dragged a sleeve across his mouth. "Not every day a man faces a choice like this one."


    The wording caught me out. "What... sort of choice?"


    Instead of answering, the boy waved me in through the stable''s gate. The rich stench of manure hung heavy in the dense air, an earthy counterpoint to the ethereal fog. Most of the horses were crowded in the back stalls, their soft nickering creating a gentle backdrop of sound. Only two remained up front. The first was a dark horse with streaks of red and honeyed brown, his coat gleaming like burnished metal even in the dim light. Beyond him was an animal I recognized almost immediately, a shadow from another life.


    "Hello," I exclaimed, quickly striding across the hay-strewn ground to approach him, my heart racing with unexpected recognition.


    "Careful my lord." The stable hand''s voice carried a note of genuine concern.


    "I''ll be cautious." I approached the horse I''d known long ago and held out a hand to allow him to grow accustomed to my scent. The beast snorted, nostrils flaring wide, then backed away from the gate and let out a high-pitched whinny that rang with unfamiliarity.


    Remember, he doesn''t know you in this life.


    The thought settled like a stone in my chest. Still, I had to ask, just to be sure. "What''s his name?"


    "Titan, your grace." The hand crossed his arms and inspected the animal crossly. "Named with a healthy dollop of irony, no doubt, but Deepvalley Pacers are sought for swiftness, not size." He extended his arm to the opposite stall, towards the dark horse whose eyes tracked my every movement. "Willow over here is an Irondale."


    "Mare?" I asked, not quite believing it on account of the considerable size, the horse standing tall enough that I would need to reach up to touch its face.


    "Stallion, and if you make light of his name on account of it, he''ll remember it too." The stable hand let out a low chuckle that resonated with genuine amusement. "One of the others caught a nice horse-sized bite on the ass for that exact reason. Assuming you don''t make light of his name, he''s impeccably well-tempered. Doesn''t scare easy, defends the rider instinctively. Less bulky than the average Irondale, but that''s a high bar, and he''s more agile than average too, making him remarkably better rounded."


    As good as the alternative sounded, I found myself drawn to Titan again, pulled by the gravity of shared history that existed only in my mind. I''d ridden many horses over this life and the last, but none were as clever and intuitive as Titan had been. His greatest strength was endurance, speed presenting a distant second. I''d planned to use that endurance to escape the coronation at the end of my second life.


    How times had changed. The irony wasn''t lost on me.


    There wasn''t much of a choice logically. We were already taking a risk, traveling to Kholis with practically no retinue. Selecting a horse that was unlikely to survive an ambush was foolishness. Still, I''d spent many, many days working with Titan. Our bond was hard earned, and even though it made sense, the thought of selecting a different horse didn''t sit well, like betraying an old friend who no longer remembered my face.


    "Shall we take them out?" The boy asked, sensing my indecision with surprising perception. "They don''t get along well, but as long as there''s a healthy separation between them, a little test ride in the round pen should be fine."


    I agreed, and we spent much of the next half hour doing just that. Unfortunately, the experience did nothing to help Titan''s chances. He''d been nervous in my last life, a trait that I''d eventually trained out of him with time and patience. But even compared to the early days, his reactions were stiff, and when I briefly rode him, there was a near-constant quiver I''d never noticed before, a trembling beneath the saddle that spoke of deep unease.


    "Is he ill?" I asked, grasping at straws, searching for any explanation beyond simple rejection.


    "Not that I''ve noticed." The stable boy stared at the horse in annoyance. "This is the first time he''s acted craven, far as I''m aware. To be honest, most of the time he''s more smug than anything else."


    I remember. The thought came unbidden, a smile with it.


    I dismounted and patted Titan gently, feeling a degree of sadness as the beast pulled away when he would have leaned in before. The small rejection stung more than it should have.


    Willow, alternatively, was a great deal more agreeable. Despite considerable side eye¡ªand there is no creature more capable of side eye than a spirited horse¡ªhe seemed to understand what I wanted intuitively, responded perfectly to both rein and free-handed control, overall reacting much the way Titan had after nearly a year''s worth of work and training.


    When I dismounted, Willow continued to stand near me knowingly, as if the decision had already been made. The beast bumped me with his nose, once, huffing warm breath against my palm as I gently pushed him away. "What happens to the horse I don''t choose?"


    "Oh. My understanding is they were both procured for you. They''re both young horses from coveted breeds, so if you decide you don''t like either of them, the crown would have no trouble putting them to use." The stable hand answered, though something in his tone suggested there was more to the story.


    It struck me as only partially true. A horse like Willow would have soldiers and generals fighting over it if it ever went to auction, but Titan was a harder sell. If it didn''t find a decent price at market¡ªand there was a chance he wouldn''t¡ªit would be consigned to the fields, destined to pull a plow, all that speed and cleverness wasted in drudgery.


    Unable to help myself, I approached Titan again. He stirred, clearly unhappy with the advance, but did not panic. I reached out, and this time he let me stroke his head, though the tension never left his body. "Hello old friend." I lowered my voice so the stable hand couldn''t hear me. Now that he was allowing contact, I moved upward and scratched behind his ears, his favorite spot in another lifetime. "That''s better, isn''t it?" Some of his caution melted away, and he leaned into my hand, a ghost of the trust we once shared. "Now I don''t mind putting a little extra effort in to protect you. Xescalt armor, perhaps. Light enough that it shouldn''t slow us down much, strong enough to keep you alive. We''ll train out your nerves eventually, just like we did last time. Everything else we can work on. All I need to know is that you won''t bolt on me."


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    The biggest difference between this life and the last was my abilities as a mage.


    It was the only reason I could think of that explained why Titan was acting so drastically different. Like people, animals could sense dense mana in both environments and individuals, and reacted to it in different ways. I kept a comforting hand on Titan''s snout and drew in as much mana as I could. Then more. My veins thrummed with effervescence, thoughts growing still until none remained, the world narrowing to a single point of light.


    There was a tremble in my soul. A flash of something. Some memory. A slow, reverberating drip of water.


    A panicked, inhuman scream brought me back to reality.


    Titan reared up on his back legs, forelegs dangling above me menacingly, ready to plunge back down at any moment. Someone shouted for me to move and I did so, leaping onto the nearby fence and throwing myself over it as the hooves slammed down into the dirt where my boots had been, leaving deep impressions in the packed earth.


    Meanwhile, the horse that had nearly triggered the most frivolous reset to date, galloped to the opposite side of the pen, directly away from me, as the poor stable boy did his best to rein him in. As chaos played out, Willow easily freed himself from the post the stable boy had tied him to, giving a few yanks before the leather came free. He trotted over to me, flexing the accomplishment, as if to say. "I''m not scared of you."


    I amplified the mana intake until I felt the buzzing again, and Willow snorted, but stood his ground, ears perked forward in curiosity rather than flattened back in fear.


    "It''s gonna be you and me, huh?" I mused, reaching up to stroke his muscular neck.


    "So, so sorry milord." The stable boy shouted, his eyes flashing, jaw quivering in fear. Eventually he got Titan''s lead and reined him in. "Sometimes it takes a beast a while to show its flaws, particularly the well-bred. Once the stable master gets word of this, it''ll be dealt with appropriately."


    "It''s my fault." I interjected quickly, "Not his. Got the sense my magic might be what was bothering him and tested that theory." I wouldn''t have another death on my conscience, especially not one so needless.


    "Huh. That why your eye was... all glowing and blue-like?" The stable boy tapped his temple, forcing a smile but still clearly on edge. "It was a bit intimidating."


    "Like I said, not his fault." I shrugged, then decided. "Maybe it''s greedy, but I''d like to reserve both. They''re beautiful animals. One just likes me less than the other. Keep what happened here between us." I pointed to Titan. "He''s a good boy, just frightened. Make sure he''s taken care of and spoiled rotten. There''ll be extra gold in it for you if you do."


    /////


    The fog faded as I finished preparations for the journey, fitting Willow with a saddle and saddlebags, and checked his hooves for any detritus. He was wonderfully intuitive, lifting each foot in sequence for me to check them, raising one twice, insistently, until I found the pebble lodged in it. The small stone pinged against a nearby barrel when I flicked it away.


    Slowly, the yard came alive as the fog retreated and more people filtered out and around the castle, nobles busy on their way to nowhere and the servants who attended them, all moving in that practiced dance of the privileged and those who served them.


    An armored man approached from a distance, grinning from ear to ear, the morning light gleaming on his polished breastplate.


    "Greetings Uncle," I called out to him. Getting the shit-end of the previous night''s affairs hadn''t tempered his spirits much, which was a relief to see.


    "Hello Nephew. I see you''ve made a fine selection." He grinned, eyeing Willow with appreciative eyes that missed nothing.


    I put the pieces together. "This was your idea?"


    "Sort of," he half shrugged. "Your father and I got deep into our cups last night after the women retired, and he told me all about how insufferable you are."


    "Insufferable?" My eyebrows shot up, though I couldn''t quite muster genuine offense.


    "''No father, I need nothing for myself for this heroic deed that will literally go down in the history of our kingdom. Give it to the masses instead.''" Luther mocked, and his obvious disapproval was so puerile I couldn''t help but laugh. "It''s Uskar, kid. If you don''t look out for yourself no one else will."


    "No one but you." I pointed out, reaching up to scratch Willow''s head after the beast nudged me. "Thank you for this."


    "Thank your father." Luther''s voice softened momentarily. "Now tell me about this trip. What kind of security are you bringing?"


    "Well, there''s Maya." I thought about it, weighing the reality against the expectations. "And we''ll be traveling back to Kholis with the local lord, someone I met not long after I stumbled off the wagon."


    "That feels like a lifetime ago." Luther mused, more introspective than usual, his eyes distant with memory.


    "Indeed." More than he could possibly know.


    "He''s trustworthy?"


    "That, and keenly aware of the dangers we face." I agreed, remembering Thoth''s ambush and how quickly and efficiently Lucius had snapped into action. "He''ll be prepared. Have his own retinue."


    My Uncle winced. "The King has gotten word that you intend to leave your bodyguard here in Whitefall."


    "Gods dammit." Both Sera and Annette were more than capable of taking care of themselves. But the assassination attempt had set my teeth on edge. Logically, the Drephin wouldn''t try again for at least a couple of months. The smart thing to do was wait until we''d let our guard down, and business at the castle went back to life as usual.


    Alten was the insurance I intended to leave behind in case they weren''t that smart.


    "Obviously, he voiced some concerns. Wanted you to bring some of the black shields along for the journey." Luther''s tone made it clear this wasn''t merely a suggestion.


    "Absolutely not." I replied reflexively, an immediate heat growing in my chest. Other than some initial friction all of the black shields'' transgressions had taken place in my previous life. Nevertheless, I didn''t want them anywhere near us. To be frank, I didn''t want anyone from the capital along for the ride. I could limit the number to three, pick them at random, and at least two would spend their evenings sending missives to Thaddeus, reporting our every move.


    "Figured." Luther concurred, mouth splitting in a winning smile. "Which is why I volunteered my services. As uh, penance for my earlier lapse."


    I couldn''t help but roll my eyes. "So he chews you out for an alleged lapse, banishes you from dinner, calls you back, and assigns more work."


    "Welcome to the runaway wagon that comes with being the brother to the King Regent. At the very least there''s been no suspicion of treason or real talk of removing said traitorous head from its shoulders." The dark humor in his voice couldn''t quite hide the edge of genuine bitterness.


    Having Luther along for the journey was a welcome alternative. He hated Thaddeus with a quiet passion and was thereby unlikely to breach our privacy, and in terms of competency had spent most of his younger years sparring with Gil. There was a reason he tended to sweep any tournament he took part in. By any standards, Luther was a damn good fighter. But it was still another set of eyes where I''d prefer none.


    "We¡ªMaya and I both¡ªhave, in some ways fortunate, other ways less so, become highly recognizable figures for various reasons. We are always being watched, and seldom have an opportunity to just..."


    "Be free?" Luther offered, filling in the blank with unexpected perception.


    "And unburden. This is that opportunity for us." I admitted, the truth of it resonating in my chest.


    My uncle nodded, understanding immediately. "Say no more. You''re a noble heading into the idyllic countryside with a woman who is neither your wife nor your betrothed. Been in those boots more than once. I''ll keep a sharp eye out for danger, but beyond that, give you all the space you need."


    I thought about correcting him, making up some sort of story. But he''d already seen through the excuses, and when it came down to it, I trusted my Uncle''s discretion. He had always been good at keeping secrets.


    "Thank you."


    Somewhere behind me a familiar voice laughed, the sound like sunlight breaking through clouds. I turned, looking for the source. Two horses trotted out of the stables, led by Lucius. A tall chestnut horse and Maya''s steed, a dappled one with a light mane. Maya followed along beside him, still laughing at something Lucius had said, her face animated in a way I rarely saw within the castle walls. Several guards milling around behind them bore Lucius''s house sigil of a vulture in flight. They were better armed than the guards of Kholis had been, and judging from the vigilance and posture, were considerably better trained as well.


    "Are you sure the two of you don''t want to take off without me?" I called over to them, the jest covering a genuine question.


    Lucius rolled his eyes. "Please. My lady wife would get word, and there would be no end of questions."


    "Right. The barmaid."


    "You watch your fucking mouth." Lucius stood his ground for a moment, then passed off his reins to an attendant and wrapped me in an embrace, holding an arm out to Maya, who eventually joined us. "It''ll be wonderful to have you both in our care. What fun we''ll have these next few days. It''s been too long."


    "Hopefully, it ends better than last time." Maya pointed out ruefully. All three of us laughed, the sound carrying with it shared memories of danger survived.


    "The arch-fiend is across the ocean and out of reach. Our odds are far better." I shrugged, then introduced Lucius to my uncle. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, then Lucien complimented Luther''s sword, and they were suddenly best of friends, bonded in that immediate way of men who respect each other''s martial prowess.


    Once my uncle retrieved his horse and luggage, we made our way to the Western Gate. Between Lucius, Maya, and myself, we were likely too eye-catching to avoid notice, but the western gate was quieter than the others, so at the very least there was less traffic to weave through. In less than an hour we were free, with nothing but the muted brown of the road leading to the Everwood before us, and an expanse of green that grew more wild by the moment, untamed by the hands of man.


    "Everyone stay close. There''s not a lot of hands on deck, and the last noble to get lost in the Everwood took a stone''s age to show his ugly face again." My uncle chortled at his own joke, then took a moment to look at us all seriously, checking for confirmation. Lucius quickly agreed, and we followed. In a way it was charming. Both Maya and I had survived for years in the Sanctum. In terms of natural danger, the deeper layers were magnitudes more threatening than anything the Everwood had on offer. Still it was the thought that counted.


    For all the grief my disappearance had likely caused him, Luther deserved a little closure.


    And if something truly went wrong, we''d be all the better for it.


    Can I really do this?


    It was only three days. I''d been imprisoned for far longer than that and the world hadn''t fallen apart in my absence. It would be fine.


    It would be fine.

 Chapter 257: Kholis II

    Willow stirred beneath me, nickering in irritation as his head swung cautiously from side to side, muscles coiling like springs beneath his gleaming coat. The Everwood''s ancient pines whispered overhead, their scent sharp in the cool air as dappled shadows played across the path. I patted his neck gently, fingers tracing the warmth beneath his mane, and pretended that nothing was amiss.


    That I hadn''t noticed the motion keeping pace with us through the trees, or the glimmer of a poorly concealed blade catching sunlight through the canopy. Whoever they were, their woodcraft was poor enough that they''d left their horses behind and now followed on foot, no doubt waiting for an ideal moment to spring the ambush.


    From the smell¡ªthe presence of it, rather¡ªthey were humans. Probably bandits. It would be easy enough to deal with them directly. My responsibility to the kingdom required it. But swift bloodshed was still bloodshed. The entire point of the outing was to step away, distance from the grueling responsibilities my position and gift expected of me and return fresh minded. To give Maya a chance to breathe after years of serving as both shield and shadow, traversing battlefields and court intrigue with equal grace but mounting weariness.


    Unfortunately, our shadows were growing impatient. A twig snapped. Then another. The rustling of leaves became a persistent whisper. Muted footfalls quickened¡ªcautious steps giving way to determined strides¡ªa coalescence of accelerating momentum gathering at our backs like an approaching storm.


    "Bandits," I spat out, just to give them pause, and the momentum suddenly halted as my voice echoed through the trees, bouncing between trunks and fading into the undergrowth. "I forgot to ask. Lucius, is there much danger of bandits on the roads these days?"


    Lucius cast a suspicious look over his shoulder at me, amber eyes narrowing beneath a furrowed brow. "Why do you speak as if you''ve only just arrived?"


    I half-shrugged, feeling Willow shift beneath me. "I''ve been in the region for sometime. But most of that time has been spent within the capital''s walls. Between the two of us, you have far better insights to what lies beyond."


    Absorbing that for a moment, he tilted his head, the gesture reminiscent of our childhood conversations when he was sorting through his thoughts. "Kholis does its part, and the surrounding roads are a great deal safer than average, given that the current reigning lord was assailed by footman not so long ago and sort of took that personally. He expanded the guard and increased patrols, along with the penalty for violent assault. Yet the Everwood is home to many shadows, some of which still draw breath. There far fewer murders than before. Robbery is still alive and kicking."


    I made a noise of acknowledgement, listening for movement behind us as the conversation fizzled out, leaves rustling in the silence.


    Maya''s small gray horse fell into pace beside mine, her mount''s hooves creating a counterpoint rhythm to Willow''s steady gait. She leaned over, a carefree smile on her face that didn''t reach her eyes. "I take it from that hasty change of topic you have noticed our circumstances." Her low-pitched tone was completely mismatched with her expression, grim and serious beneath the veneer of casual conversation.


    I nodded. "Thoughts?"


    "They are desperate and disorganized." Maya recited her observations, doing an excellent job not looking in the direction of the unseen pursuers as her fingers played absently with her reins. "I had hoped they would simply take our measure and think better of it. Unfortunately, they appear to be mustering nerve instead. They wield iron weapons and are protected by simple untreated leathers. There is not much threat to speak of and it will not take long to dispatch them. You need only give the word." Her expression hardened as she said it, the wonder and quiet excitement she''d been giving off since our departure disappearing entirely as her hand fell to the disassembled halves of the xescalt staff at her side, knuckles whitening with tension.


    I felt a pang of empathy at the swift transition from traveler to warrior, and in its wake, made a decision. "Thankfully, it''s already taken care of."


    "What?" Maya remarked, panning me for the answer and finding none. "How exactly?"


    "You told me." I amplified my voice with the wind, ensuring it carried without sounding overly loud, the faintest hint of magic shimmering at the edge of each syllable. "You beseeched Infaris for protection, offered a goat in sacrifice."


    Her expression grew more severe, brows lowering until she grasped what I was playing at and nodded along, a smile ghosting across her lips. When she spoke her voice was almost entirely the same, only her shoulders stiffened as she projected from her diaphragm. "So I did. It should be more than sufficient to grant all four of us a degree of divine protection."


    "A degree?" I balked, injecting theatrical disbelief into my voice. "From my understanding infernal goddesses do not slouch when it comes to security."


    "Bah. Those are all stories." Maya waved me away dismissively, violet fingers cutting through the air with practiced indifference.


    "''As the human gods strike with lightning from the Celestial Spire, so Infaris smites with fire from the ashen hollows,''" I quoted, inflecting my voice with scholarly pomposity "And not ordinary fire either¡ªDemon flame that burns the soul before it so much as singes flesh."


    "Sent down in pillars of pure destruction. I''ve heard the tales," Maya countered, her eyes gleaming with amusement, "but the gods seldom interfere so directly¡ª"


    Ahead, Uncle Luther''s head perked up, the movement sharp as a hawk spotting prey. With a subtle, smooth motion, his head panned to the side, taking in the forest at large before he returned to staring vacantly ahead, slowing his horse and leaving Lucius in the lead. The worn leather of his scabbard creaked softly as his hand drifted toward it.


    He''d noticed then.


    To his credit it was far more difficult to perceive the bandits from his position at the head of the party while they crept behind, likely because they''d picked him out as the obvious escort and made additional efforts to avoid him. If he''d been at the back, he likely would have noticed the threat at the same time that I had.


    "There''s a problem." His voice was low, weathered by years of giving warnings just like this one.


    "No problem. There should be no problems at all." I immediately interjected, drawing a bewildered look from him. "Maya presented Infaris with a sacrifice."


    "Alright." Luther blinked twice, owl-like, before he tensed at some movement he''d spotted off to the side, muscles coiling beneath his travel-worn cloak. "But faith aside, we are in danger¡ª"


    There was a rustle of brush, and a mountain of a man with a scarred lip and rotten teeth rose from behind a gnarled oak, striding into the center of the path and giving us his best snarl. Sunlight caught on the cruel edge of his blade. "What do we have here? A buncha nobles who wandered a little too far from home?"


    "''What do we have here?''" Lucius repeated, aristocratic mockery dripping from every syllable as his mouth curled in disgust. "If you''re going to rob the Baron of Kholis on his own lands, at least compose something worthy of the ballads they''ll sing about your execution."


    The man''s eyes narrowed, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before hardening into resolve. "Don¡¯t know you from Alricht. Don¡¯t care. Dismount. Leave all gold, personal effects of value, and writs of property you might be carryin on you. Drop ''em on the side of the road and we''ll let you be on your way." He paused, giving a brief look to Willow before he continued, greed momentarily overtaking caution. "The rest of you can keep the horses you got. But we''re taking the Irondale."


    Highly reasonable as far as bandits were concerned. Most wouldn''t think twice before taking everything we had and leave us stranded within the forest''s grasp.


    Carefully, I avoided making any motion as the torrent of mana swelled within me¡ªa familiar heat unfurling beneath my sternum and tingling down my limbs. The six small sparks I''d meticulously positioned behind the bandit flared to life as I poured power into our connection, each one thrumming like a distant heartbeat. I reserved half my focus for the wind, calling it not just from around us but from everywhere¡ªleaves rustling, branches swaying, currents shifting as invisible threads of power woven together into a single, swirling focal point.


    FWOOOOOM


    A swirling pillar of violet flame erupted behind the bandit, crackling with an otherworldly energy that cast eerie shadows across the forest floor. His eyes widened, and he spun, prior intentions forgotten as he beheld the whirling gout of destruction behind him, leather armor shuddering as super-heated air assailed it.


    "Infaris!" Someone shouted in terror, and I stifled a laugh as several similar exclamations of terror followed it, all bellowing the name of a goddess they''d likely never heard of before today. Only the first bandit bothered to look behind him, shrewd eyes observing us all, likely estimating if we were likely to follow before he chased after his men, shouting obscenities that echoed through the trees long after he disappeared from view.


    The rest broke before their flank formed, retreating in a mess of rushing bodies, pushing and shoving as they dashed head first into the Everwood in a disorganized retreat, the sounds of their flight¡ªsnapping branches and panicked breathing¡ªfading with distance.


    Once the bandits were gone, I cut the mana flow and the once impressive fire tornado puttered to nothing, leaving only scorched dirt and gravel behind, the scent of burnt earth hanging in the air. There was a long silence as the group absorbed what had happened. Then Maya laughed, the sound like silver bells in the forest quiet, and Luther''s low chuckling joined her. Pretty soon all of us except for Lucius were cracking up, doing our best to keep our voices down given the situation.


    Lucius was still staring in the direction the bandits fled, furious, his knuckles white around his reins. This was close enough to Kholis that he felt responsible for the incident, and as the Baron of Kholis, he hadn''t taken the incident lightheartedly. "I thought we''d gotten all the larger groups. Yet here they are, thumbing their noses beneath mine."


    Somehow, I managed to stop laughing. "Not for much longer." I gripped the amulet on my neck, feeling its familiar contours warm beneath my touch. Vogrin appeared, looking haggard and well-worn, drooping a little closer to the ground than usual. My reliance on magic the previous day had left me almost entirely tapped, and as demonic summons depended on the users mana, Vogrin, though somewhat recovered, still looked worse for wear.


    "Your command?" His prompt was dismal, devoid of his typical cattiness, the usual spark in his obsidian eyes dimmed to embers.


    "We encountered a¡ª"


    "¡ªI''m aware." Vogrin cut me off, mouth curving in disgust, the words falling like stones. "You want me to follow them to their camp, create enough problems that they will be slow to move, yes?"


    I blinked, a little thrown off by his directness. "Uh. Yes, if that''s not too much to ask."


    "And when we return, we can resume work worthy of my talents and put my golems to the purpose I proposed weeks ago?" Vogrin stared at me irritably, his form flickering briefly like a candle in a draft.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    That''s right. In the recent chaos I''d nearly forgotten, I wasn''t the only one with a score to settle. Vogrin disliked Thoth not only because she''d gotten the better of him, but because she was a puzzle that defied logic in ways he couldn''t resolve. I didn''t particularly care. Not since the apothecary. The questions and concerns that were raised during our duel of wills in the sanctum were entirely null. It didn''t matter where she came from, or why she was the way she was. Nothing would change her fate.


    But Vogrin cared deeply about learning those same answers, and regardless of how I felt, the rational part of me accepted that more information was always better than less.


    I shrugged. "There should be plenty of time to set the golems to task before we set sail for the strait."


    "Good." Vogrin muttered, his voice like gravel underfoot. He lowered himself until his dirt strewn legs touched the ground and stalked into the forest, honest to gods walking for the first time since the day I''d met him, leaving small footprints in the soft earth.


    "Vogrin follows them to wherever they''re going, brings back the exact location of their camp along with any relevant details, and you and yours deal with them however you see fit. Fair enough?" I asked Lucius, who, with effort, finally seemed to relax, the tension easing from his shoulders.


    "More than enough. It''s my lapse, not yours. But I''m not stupid enough to turn down help when it''s offered." Lucius remounted his horse, and for a moment I saw Cephur in his stead, lifting a much younger Lucius back up onto the saddle, the ghost of a memory.


    Meanwhile, Luther, who still seemed half-ready to chase the bandits into the forest, slid his high-steel sword back in its scabbard with a metallic whisper and seemed to reevaluate us with cautious eyes. I clapped him on the shoulder as I passed, offering an apologetic smile. "Ready to go?"


    "I uh." He chuckled, crow''s feet deepening around his eyes. "I''ve never seen a bandit attack dealt with so casually before."


    "Could have gone all scorched earth, but..." I glanced back at the already-fading scorch marks, a reminder of restrained power.


    "You''re on holiday," Luther filled in, respect warming his voice. "And holidays are for restraint."


    "Exactly." I kicked Willow''s flanks, feeling the powerful muscles respond beneath me, and took off down the path at a slow trot.


    /////


    "So... it''s a slug." Lucius''s nose wrinkled, his expression comically horrified in the afternoon light.


    "Sort of." Maya answered, her voice a little breathless as it often became when she was explaining something interesting, violet eyes alight with enthusiasm. "The membrane tastes like practically nothing. Some say its earthy in profile, but I''ve never picked up on that much. It''s kept in ice and frigid on the tongue, which likely hides some of the taste."


    "So it''s... a cold slug that tastes like dirt." The wrinkles around his nose grew more severe, each word dripping with princely disdain.


    "It''s a delicacy," Maya rolled her eyes, her violet fingers gesturing expressively as the sunlight caught the iridescent undertones of her skin. "Why even ask if you''re going to react with typical human narrow-mindedness?"


    Lucius''s brows shot up and he turned to me, scandalized, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. "We''re being besmirched."


    "You''re being besmirched. I''ve already partaken." I leaned back in my saddle, enjoying their banter. "It was possibly¡ª" I stopped, thought about that tense meal I''d shared with Ephira, the memory unfurling unpleasantly of our table precariously balanced over an abyss. "No, it was definitely the most unique dining experience of my life. I didn''t even follow the rules and have it properly, and the result was still sublime."


    "The slug has rules?!" Lucius grew more perplexed by the moment, his voice rising an octave.


    Maya counted them off on her slender fingers, each point punctuated with scholarly precision. "First it has to be perfectly prepared, then chilled for several hours at an exact temperature. You must coat your lips in wax and take great care not to chew. Once the membrane bursts you will ''taste'' a whisper of the creature itself and that eventual reward is worth the wait."


    "Between the coating and the taking-great-care, these rules sound more like precautions." Lucius''s brow furrowed, skepticism etched in every line of his face.


    "I was thinking the same thing." Luther said, sparing a curious look back towards us, sunlight catching in his graying hair. "Though, both of you, despite a heap of compliments, have yet to say how the thing actually tastes."


    "It''s... difficult to describe." The savory, overwhelming quality was reminiscent of steak in my memory, then duck liver prepared in the Panthanian manner, lastly taking on the dense rich wave of crayfish dipped in prestige butter. The memory itself was easy to recall, a cascade of flavors that defied simple categorization. "In truth, the only reason I don''t have it more often is..." My eyes slid to Maya. "That other little detail you haven''t mentioned yet."


    Maya returned my look blankly, her head tilting slightly. "What detail?"


    I raised an eyebrow. "The other thing. That and the water. Or lack of."


    "That''s..." There was a lull as Maya thought back, focusing, bringing up the recollection. I sometimes forgot that it took intention for her to sift through the memories I''d shared, and they weren''t simply there at the surface of her mind, waiting to be recalled. "Oh, no." Her eyes widened with the realization.


    "Oh, no?" I repeated, very aware that both Lucius and Luther were watching us, their curiosity palpable.


    Maya put a hand on her mouth, barely holding back a giggle that made her shoulders shake. "That... rule... stems from a very old tradition. Modern water filtered through magical means is very clean, where in the old days it was impossible to find any purified beyond simple boiling."


    "Oh my gods..." I muttered numbly, pressing a palm against my forehead as I filled in the blanks, pieces falling into place with horrifying clarity.


    "To further complicate matters," Maya continued, her voice taking on the measured cadence of a scholar, "Sceo transcended mere cuisine to become diplomacy incarnate. Leaders would share this rarity across negotiation tables¡ªa tacit admission of vulnerability when both parties placed their lives in each other''s hands."


    "A mutual hostage situation disguised as hospitality," Luther mused, inclining his head with newfound respect. "Ingenious."


    "And show they''re both willing to risk whatever the negative effects are. I get it." Luther inclined his head, weathered hands loose on his reins.


    "What are the negative effects?" Lucius asked, leaning forward with morbid fascination.


    But Maya was still deep in thought, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Volatility cannot be overstated. If you were to select a single pebble from the ground and drop it into a cup of boiled water, that would likely be enough to upset the balance."


    "Make sure the other guy gets the dirty cup, suddenly your problem takes care of itself." I shook my head, imagining ancient diplomats with their deadly delicacies.


    She nodded, the movement dislodging a strand of hair that caught the light. "After this was more or less known, a new tradition sprung up centered on water itself. If the two parties discussing terms were of equal standing, they would both bring their own. In the case of a dichotomy, the figure who held the most power would provide the water."


    "Subsequently forcing the weaker party to simply trust and bend the knee." The implications unfolded like a map of power dynamics, written in invisible ink.


    "And critically, it was far too precious to waste. So in the third scenario, if you arrived to meet with someone who held a more powerful position than you, and they truly hated you..." Maya trailed off, leaving the thought suspended between us.


    "They would bring no water at all." I finished, warring between amusement and annoyance with an enemy long dead. "Forcing insult and unpleasantness on both of you rather than entertain the idea of peace. Or assassination, for that matter."


    "What happens if you bite it or drink it with shit water for fuck¡¯s sake?" Lucius asked, increasingly aggrieved, all aristocratic pretense abandoned.


    My eyes widened as I recalled the events, the memory vivid despite the passage of time. "I was desperate for a drink after the Sceo lodged in my throat. It started burning more until I was terrified it was going to burst in right then and there. Eventually I gave up, filled up my wineglass with the closest thing I could find, which was cave water... and she didn''t bat an eye. That hag tried to kill me."


    "It kills you?!" Lucius exclaimed, his eyes wide with horror.


    "Only if consumed incorrectly." Maya said, looking a little hurt. She turned to me, her expression softening. "And if you''d only asked instead of politely avoiding it or swallowing it down blank-faced with no comment, we might have figured this out years ago."


    "A few fish common fish we regularly dredge out of the sapphire seas can do the same if the cook makes it wrong." Luther shrugged, the gesture casual despite the gravity of the conversation. "It''s not that unheard of. And in my opinion those fish don''t even taste that good."


    Lucius considered that, then smiled apologetically at Maya. "Apologies. I''m a rural lord. Our diets stay fairly straightforward. More varied than they used to be, but simple is still simple."


    "And I''m a trained diplomat." Maya returned coldly, eyes narrowing to violet slits. "Fully aware of that the boy I sang to sleep, the child who asked me to stay near him for just a few more minutes and hold his hand because he was afraid of the dark is putting on airs and lying through his¡ª"


    "Okay!" Lucius squawked, blushing furiously, the color spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. "It''s the slug part. I trust you implicitly, it''s just the texture that gives pause."


    "Well, at least you''re honest." Maya sniffed, looking pointedly away from Lucius. As they bantered, I couldn''t help but laugh. It was a relief to see her this way. Joking around, taking things lightly. The mild pettiness she was engaging in only came out when things were calm, peaceful. Exceedingly rare circumstances. Confirmation that we were on the same page. The argument¡ªif you could even call it that¡ªended with Lucius admitting he''d try the delicacy given the chance, though only once, and Maya apologizing for bring up his history out of turn.


    Luther, on the other hand, only looked more confused the longer they talked, his weathered face creased with bewilderment.


    "At some point, someone''s really gotta fill me in on the history here." My Uncle rubbed his head, callused fingers threading through his hair.


    "I''m out of the loop on too much as well. There''ll be time for both of us to hear it all twice over." Lucius grinned, his earlier embarrassment forgotten. "There''s plenty of room in the manor. Our wine-sodden evenings will turn to mornings, and we will feast, and drink, with much merry to be had."


    I groaned inwardly, feeling a small spark of jealousy I quickly quenched. Somewhere in the back of my mind this was what I''d been worried about. The sort of excess Lucius was proposing would have appealed to me a great deal in my first life. There was a surface level joy to be found in the parties and libations that accompanied them. But what I really wanted was time. Time away from the public, and the capital, and countless prying eyes. Time shared with the person who had done so much for me, and received so little in return.


    But this was her idea. She''d driven for it, pushed for it. And if she wanted to spend it in a festive drunken stupor, it was fair to say we all deserved a little of that too.


    Someone reached over and tugged on my hand. Violet fingers tightened around mine, and a slight shake of her head told me everything I needed to know.


    "You intend to board us at the manor?" I asked.


    "Of course!" Lucius exclaimed, eyes shining with expectation. "Only the finest Kholis has to offer. And if either of you finds something to be lacking, please let me know."


    "Generous." I paused, studying his enthusiastic expression. "Actually, there might be something you can help us with."


    His eyebrows perked up in interest. "Another conspiracy, perhaps?"


    "Well¡ª" I started, searching for the right words.


    "We are beset by spies." Maya filled in, coming up with an explanation almost instantly, her diplomatic training shining through.


    "It''s tragic." I helped, adding a bit of regretful gravitas. "Separated for years before we finally found each other, only to have my father stick his boot in and drag us both back to Whitefall. There''s so much to catch up on, but Thaddeus has ears everywhere."


    "Say no more," Lucius frowned, taking a moment to think. Beside him, my uncle kept his head forward, a small smile frozen on his lips, giving nothing away.


    "This entire venture was at a last moment''s notice." Maya finally offered. "It''s already been a burden to arrange, I''m sure. And we''re happy to stay at the manor. If we could also secure a place to speak in private..."


    His expression was inscrutable. "No. Apologies¡ªI already have something in mind. Something I¡¯d saved for the end of your visit. A reveal, if you will. And, depending on how it went, a gift."


    "Really?" I asked, a little taken aback. He''d had very little warning that we were coming. Whatever it was, must have already been in the works for quite some time.


    "That being said, given what you''ve just told me, I think it works better at the beginning rather than the end. Or at least I hope it does." Lucius winced. "Gods, I went from having three days to mull over whether this was a good idea to less than an hour. Now I''m sweating on the cusp of winter."


    Maya, still trying to puzzle out what Lucius was hinting at, suddenly paled. She looked around in panic, and confirming that we were as close as Lucius said we were, reached down into her saddlebags and withdrew a roll of bandages.


    "We need to pull off to the side somewhere so I can put these on."


    "Not a chance." Lucius stared at the bandages with obvious disdain, then shook his head. "You won''t be needing those. Not in Kholis. Not anymore."

 Chapter 258: Kholis III

    Lucius''s slouch straightened as we approached our destination, shoulders squaring beneath his traveling cloak, posture transforming from road-weary traveler to something far more regal. His typically acrid sarcasm fell to the wayside, replaced by the honeyed tones of a gracious host. The metamorphosis was effortless, like watching a snake shed its skin to reveal gleaming new scales beneath.


    He distracted us with tales of his wedding¡ªthe seven-day feast that followed, the gifts from distant kingdoms, the musicians whose melodies still echoed in villagers'' dreams months later. He spoke of village minutiae and economic triumphs with the practiced ease of a man accustomed to impressing guests. The stories teetered on the precipice of boasting, a touch too fanciful to fully believe. Such grandeur seemed beyond the reach of any rural village, even one with Lucius at its helm.


    Still, I engaged with him, avoiding the probing questions that typically peppered my conversations. The reason for his performance was clear in the subtle glances he cast sideways¡ªhe was trying to distract Maya.


    And failing.


    Our time in Whitefall had hardly been a cakewalk, yet throughout most of it, Maya hadn''t flinched. People didn''t endure the sort of trials she had without transformation. She''d blossomed from adversity, in some ways actively following in Nethtari''s footsteps, distancing herself from emotion and relying on the same cold stoniness that made her mother an effective solicitor.


    When we''d arrived in Whitefall, she''d remained completely unreadable. But today was different. First came the tight grip on her reins, knuckles whitening with each mile marker we passed. Then the slight hitch in her breathing whenever we crested a hill. Now her shoulders hunched as if at the zenith of a cringe, and her eyes darted, searching the road as she seemed to prepare for something to happen.


    It hit me entirely too late. "All this time reminiscing about our history with Kholis and ignoring yours."


    "Hm?" She started a little at the comment, eyes snapping to mine, searching my face for meaning.


    I made a gesture at the landscape unfurling around us¡ªthe sprawling meadows giving way to copses of trees, the distant silhouettes of buildings beginning to materialize on the horizon. "The life you lived before we met and brought the children back here like traveling heroes. Barion didn''t like leaving the guests in the basement unsupervised, but he liked the idea of leaving you alone with them even less. So he made you cover up¡ªdragged you here¡ªand made you run his errands for him, taking on all the risk to your detriment."


    At the mention of Barion, Lucius''s mood darkened like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. The amiable smile vanished, replaced by something harder and more genuine.


    "It didn''t occur to me at all," he breathed, the cadence of his words slowing. "Is it... painful to be back here?"


    He paused, watching Maya''s face, searching for an answer in the tightness around her eyes. When she didn''t immediately respond, he offered, "Only a half-day''s ride to the nearest village. Cvothe. Not nearly as charming as it used to be, but it''s still beautiful. Quieter than Kholis by a considerable margin."


    Maya''s spine straightened a fraction, some of the tension ebbing from her posture. She nodded, a flicker of confidence returning to her eyes. "That''s... very kind. Both of you. I am not some wilting flower that must be planned around. Travel doesn''t always treat me well, that''s all."


    "Is that true?" Lucius asked me, his voice pitched low enough that it might not carry.


    I shrugged, giving him a look that I carefully masked the moment Maya turned my way. "I''d never call her a liar."


    The horses crunched through autumn-brittle grass, hooves pulverizing fallen leaves into a fragrant mulch. The scent of earth and decay rose with each step, mingling with the sharp tang of morning air. Early light filtered through half-bare branches, casting dappled patterns that shifted across our path like liquid gold. My mount''s muscles rippled beneath me as we navigated a slight incline, its breath forming small clouds in the cool air.


    For several minutes, these natural sounds provided our only accompaniment¡ªthe steady rhythm of hoofbeats, the occasional snort of a horse, the whisper of the breeze through the trees.


    "You''re not shrewd," Maya said suddenly, her voice slicing through the silence like a blade.


    I mimed taking an arrow from her direction, clutching my chest dramatically before sliding down the opposite side of my horse. I clung to the saddle, hanging horizontally as if mortally wounded.


    Her eyebrows plunged lower, dark slashes of disapproval. "You''re not funny


    either."


    "Lucius, help," I croaked after the second invisible arrow struck. I clutched at the pommel with theatrical desperation. "We''re under attack."


    "We nothing." He immediately guided his horse away from mine, the traitor, putting several feet of distance between us. The morning sunlight caught the hint of amusement he failed to suppress.


    Maya''s gaze swung toward him, sharp as a hawk''s. "And you."


    Lucius placed a hand to his chest, mock pride radiating from the gesture. "Your incredibly flexible host who bent over backwards to facilitate this venture with what had to be the least amount of advanced notice possible?"


    "If there''s something you want to ask me, ask me." Maya''s words rang out clear and hard as steel. "Not him. He is not my keeper and does not know the secrets of my mind."


    "Well, I did ask ye, and ye weren''t very forthcoming then were ye?" he snapped.


    The words hung in the air, sharp and incongruous, like foreign coins dropped into local waters.


    A long silence followed, broken only by the creaking of leather saddles and the soft nickering of horses.


    Inevitably, I lost any ability to contain myself. "Was that... the barmaid''s accent?"


    "Surely you are not referring to my gentle wife, Lady Timbermour." Lucius leveled a dangerous look in my direction, but the warning in his eyes couldn''t stop the telltale flush that began around his neck. The redness crept upward, spreading across his cheeks like spilled wine on parchment.


    "It did sound a great deal like the lady of Kholis herself," Maya teased, a genuine smile touching her lips for the first time that morning. "Let me guess. In public she speaks like the typical human noble, but in private¡ª"


    "La-la-la-la-la-let''s stop talking." Lucius returned sourly.


    His eyes narrowed, and for a heartbeat, I feared we''d crossed some invisible boundary. Then the stiffness in his posture eased, and he turned to Maya with unexpected earnestness.


    "I''m not questioning your integrity. It''s fair to say I trust you more than nearly anyone." His voice softened, weighted with memory. "When we were... in the darkness... you were all I had. But even then, you lied to me many times. For my own benefit. When I was helpless, that was one thing. But I''m not helpless anymore. And I just want to make sure that''s not what''s happening here."


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    Any joke I might have made died on my lips. Even without knowing the specifics of Lucius''s lineage, the transparency of his emotion was unmistakable. His sentiments mirrored many of my thoughts regarding my own mother, and he expressed them with such raw honesty that I couldn''t help but respect him for it.


    My horse turned its head, offering me a rather potent side-eye that suggested the earlier joke had run its course. I pulled myself back into the saddle, working out a muscle that had stiffened during my dramatic display.


    "We lived through a great deal of strife together," I said, "during a time when none of us were ready for it. Yet, we rose to the challenge. Our bond is precious." I looked to Lucius, allowing genuine appreciation to color my words. "I''m proud to call you friend."


    Lucius stared straight ahead, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "I''m just happy you didn''t turn out to be the smug cunt everyone expected you to be."


    He snorted and looked away, eyes fixed on some distant point on the horizon. A beat passed, the silence between us comfortable rather than strained. When he spoke again, his voice had lost its edge. "And I suppose it is a pride we share."


    "Are you sure I don''t need the bandages?" Maya whispered, leaning toward me.


    I tugged my reins in her direction and reached across the space between us to take her hand. Her fingers were cold despite the warming day.


    Lucius gestured toward a nearby hill, his expression shifting to something more serious. "Come. See for yourself."


    We picked up the pace and followed him. The rampant, jungle-like terrain that sprouted up around the Everwood thinned out gradually, giving way to shedding trees and carpets of fallen leaves in a tapestry of gold, ochre, and crimson. The path steepened, and our horses'' breaths came heavier as we climbed.


    At the crest of the hill, we reined in our mounts.


    The world opened up below us.


    A city sprawled across the valley floor¡ªnot the modest cluster of buildings I remembered, but a thriving metropolis that had swallowed the village of Kholis whole. Where once dirt paths had meandered between humble structures, paved roads now cut straight lines through the landscape, widened to accommodate the flow of commerce. The main thoroughfare had doubled in breadth, a river of cobblestones winding through the heart of the settlement.


    "Gods," I murmured, the word barely audible even to my own ears.


    My uncle stood tall in his stirrups, pride evident in every line of his body. "It''s really something, isn''t it?" The gleam in his eyes suggested he''d witnessed this transformation more recently than I had.


    Maya stared down at the city, lips slightly parted in astonishment. She turned to Lucius slowly, as if moving underwater. "How is this possible?"


    Above the old marketplace¡ªnow twice its former size¡ªsmoke billowed from several smithies, dark smudges against the morning sky. The eastern wind that rustled the surrounding trees pushed these clouds of industry toward the center of the city, where an old granary had metamorphosed into some vast hub of activity, its silhouette unrecognizable from the modest structure I recalled.


    Wagons traversed the roads like worker ants in a colony, each with its designated purpose. They scurried along predetermined paths, pausing at various junctures to deposit goods or collect additional burdens before jolting back into motion. The queen''s chamber of this hive appeared to be the transformed granary, toward which most traffic gravitated, a constant stream of commerce feeding the colony''s growth.


    What truly captured my attention was the populace. Like the capital, Kholis now hosted a healthy population of infernals, elves, and dwarves. But among them moved other figures whose origins I couldn''t immediately place¡ªtaller, more sinuous forms that might be northern elves; stockier, golden-skinned figures that resembled illustrations I''d seen of desert dwellers from the far south.


    Lucius rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, appearing almost embarrassed by the scale of the transformation. "Well, it wasn''t too hard."


    He squinted against the morning light, gazing down at his creation. Then he turned to me, gesturing with one hand as he explained. "We got wind of what the crown was doing, connected the dots between the sudden shift and the discussions I''d had with Cairn before he up and almost died¡ª"


    "Apologies for the inconvenience," I interjected, unable to resist.


    Lucius shot me a look but continued. "¡ªAfter nearly a year of trying to get in touch and coordinate with Cairn and failing¡ª"


    "Depending on when, I might have been in prison." I adjusted my position in the saddle, suddenly conscious of how the statement might sound.


    Maya''s voice cut through, sharp as a razor. "He can be a difficult person to get a hold of at times." The weight of her stare bored into the back of my head.


    "¡ªEssentially," Lucius pressed on, refusing to be derailed, "we followed suit before most of the neighboring regions. Early bird and whatnot."


    He swept his arm in an expansive gesture that encompassed the sprawling city. "Geographically speaking, it''s a little north for our less-human friends, but there''s massive Elven and Dwarven cities within a few days'' ride. Obviously the Enclave is nearby as well."


    A wagon laden with timber rumbled along one of the main roads below, its load swaying precariously with each turn. Lucius tracked its progress as he continued.


    "As soon as word got out that there was a small oasis in the upper reaches where anyone could stop and sell their wares without being taxed to the hells or ran out on a spear, and that oasis was centrally located at the base of several other desirable trade routes, well..." He paused, satisfaction evident in his expression. "We graduated from the title of small."


    "How the hells did you get this many dwarves?" I asked, genuinely shocked.


    Every other place I''d traveled to, including the Enclave and most recently Whitefall, dwarves were rarely spotted even in areas where non-humans frequented. I''d assumed¡ªperhaps ignorantly¡ªthat they preferred to spend their time underground. Yet here they were, men and women, perusing the town, buying goods, stumbling into and out of taverns, their stocky forms distinct even from this distance.


    Lucius chortled, a sound of pure satisfaction. "Now that''s a story. And a good one, so I''d rather save it for later when we''ve travelled at least partway into our cups."


    He gestured to the east, where the terrain rose slightly. "Short version is, we had a shit iron mine that no one had worked in years, and now we have a better one."


    Situated a small distance from the city proper, the mine''s entrance was partially obscured by trees that had not yet shed their foliage. Even so, I could make out a massive waterwheel churning a river that ran alongside the opening, its motion hypnotic and constant. The telltale grind of dwarven machinery carried across the distance, a symphony of industry.


    "You gonna ask how we cleared those nasty, persistent Everwood trunks we all fucking love so much?" Lucius asked, his tone sliding from pride into something decidedly smug, bordering on smarmy.


    "Don''t have to," I murmured.


    My gaze remained fixed on the diminutive figures traveling to and from the mine. Some of the materials they transported were concealed beneath canvas wagon tops, but the uncovered loads caught the morning light, glimmering with chunks of dark green metal I recognized despite the distance. "You found lowhil."


    "The dwarven metal?" Luther asked, looking back with renewed interest.


    I nodded, feeling a surge of admiration for what Lucius had accomplished. "One of them. It''s as good as high steel at half the value."


    The more I observed, the more impressive the transformation became. "The dwarves have to be thrilled with that, and just from the sheer number of mana lamps I''m seeing, I''m guessing at least a few of them were made here, so there''s some production happening too."


    A high buzz of metal reached my ears, and I tilted my head, trying to isolate the sound. "And I''m going to guess that lowhil makes one hell of a logging saw. Several, unless I''m hearing wrong."


    "Yes, yes, you''re very clever," Lucius rolled his eyes, but the dismissive gesture couldn''t mask the pleasure in his expression. Pride radiated from him like heat from a forge.


    Not knowing what else to do, but feeling compelled to acknowledge the magnitude of his achievement, I reached out and offered my arm. He gripped it firmly, and I returned the gesture, our forearms locked in ancient recognition of respect.


    "The transformation of Whitefall pales in comparison," I said quietly.


    "Surely not."


    "This isn''t flattery. What you''ve managed here is extraordinary. All of it." The sincerity in my voice surprised even me. "You have to show me how you managed it, the fine details, how you circumvented the obvious problems."


    "Of course," Lucius agreed.


    Only then did I notice the shadows beneath his eyes, the fine lines that hadn''t been there before. Weariness clung to him like a second skin, visible now that his initial excitement had ebbed.


    "But I have yet to find a solution for the most obvious problem." He raised an arm, gesturing toward the city that had outgrown his wildest expectations. "When I say this place got away from me, I mean it. They built what I''d dreamed of before I''d so much as gone to sleep, and by the time I woke, they''d built more."


    "You''re worried about attracting attention." I panned the city again, shaking my head in wonder at its sprawling expanse. "Understandable. But I don''t see the problem. You''re facilitating trade, and¡ªI presume¡ªpaying a small fortune in taxes."


    There was a small shake of his head, and Lucius managed a tired smile that didn''t reach his eyes. "There''s a little more to it than that. We can speak on it later if you wish."


    He clapped his hands suddenly, the sharp sound startling both Maya and me. Our horses shifted nervously beneath us, sensing our surprise.


    "But that''s not what you''re both here for," Lucius announced, his tone brightening artificially. "Follow me. The surprise... awaits."

 Chapter 259: Kholis IV

    Chapter 259: Kholis IV


    The Everwood could not be tamed. This fact, once as self-evident as the air we breathed, now stood challenged. The forest had been visibly pushed back from where it encroached around Kholis, though it hadn''t been purged. The vibrant flowering plants and wandering vines were allowed to proliferate through the new expansions, lending a sense of wild timelessness that simply hadn''t been there before.


    As we passed through, I must have looked quite the fool, twisting around and gawking as I went, trying to catalogue all the changes.


    "That blacksmith we stopped at was near here." Maya twisted, squinting at the many signs that swung in the brisk autumn breeze, leaves of every color clinging to her boots as she walked. "Or at least I believe it was. This all looks... so very different."


    "Aye. The man with the suspiciously wide stock. He was definitely nearby." I looked around, searching first for the business itself, then for familiar houses and establishments that had been adjacent to it. I found neither. Beyond that, it seemed like we were only getting farther from the city''s center and with it, Lucius''s manor. He pressed onward before us, seemingly in quite the hurry. I called up to him. "Is there a smithy nearby?"


    "Throw a hammer. With all the lowhil we''re raking in, you''ll inevitably hit one." The joke didn''t quite land, as something about his demeanor felt off, distracted.


    "It would be an old business, potentially the only smith the village had."


    Lucius''s head turned, and he looked at me over his shoulder, eyes sparking in recognition. "Ah, that old bastard. Well, you''ll be relieved to hear he''s doing quite well." Lucius pointed to a building that looked vaguely familiar, though the sign, scent of baked goods, and items displayed in the window were entirely unfamiliar. "Packed up, sold the building to an elf who paid a pretty silver for the central location..."


    Maya visibly deflated.


    "... and dumped every bit of profit for that sale into commissioning a building he designed from the ground up and built in one of the new sections of town. He''s a smug bastard these days, but he''s doing well." Lucius shrugged.


    "Maybe we could stop by on the way to wherever we''re going?" Maya suggested hopefully.


    "Trust me." Lucius smirked at us both. "Once we get there, your plans will change."


    /////


    With the three of us safely delivered, Luther broke from us to head into town, looking to scrounge up a bit of his own entertainment.


    Lucius''s earlier words echoed in my mind. I''m of sound mind when I point out that the phrase, when uttered about an unknown, is vaguely threatening no?


    As a person who''d been on the receiving end of many such vagaries and direct threats of violence, simply due to the reality that being a blood relative to the king made any alternative impossible, I was accustomed to all variations of threats¡ªboth the empty sort and the sort that was not so empty.


    Nothing Lucius had said had felt like a threat. After all, we weren''t isolated. Many people knew where we''d gone and when to expect our return. The statement had carried no animus behind it. But something about it, be it either the words themselves, or the context with which it was said, set my teeth to grind and my gaze to constant vigilance.


    I felt the same sensation I always experienced on the verge of a new reset. Going back, running through the day''s events countless times, searching for anything obvious I might have missed, finding nothing, telling myself that everything was fine, that the anxiety and mounting fear were the product of a mind that was too often tempted to search for problems, finding imperfections where none existed, somehow creating the issues I was terrified to find simply on account of the searching.


    As the sounds of the village faded, our surroundings becoming more sparse and overgrown, several houses came into view near the edge of the village, arranged near the boundary wall and nestled at the top of a clearing that was half forest, half meadow, as if the environment itself had sued for peace and drawn a compromise.


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    There was nothing to fear from Lucius. I knew it in my heart. But my mind returned to that evening in Whitefall I''d been out celebrating with the men, similarly confident, only to be devastated.


    I tried to relax and failed.


    Every shadow became an assassin, lurking in the dark. Every odd reflection of light in the afternoon sun became a blade. I spent the final steps as we approached the building desperately taking in everything I could, looking for the source of the attack. The house itself was hideous, painted a dark color that landed somewhere between bile and the dark red clay of a riverbed. Its features grew more stark, severe, and disquieting with every step we took toward it. Black brambles moved as if conscious, spreading out and tightening over the iron gate. r?A?No??¦¢§¦?s


    "Stop." Maya barked, the word cracking with enough authority that Lucius''s head snapped around. I slowed down beside her, demonstrating solidarity.


    "Nearly there now." The baron''s brow knitted together as he looked between us. "Am I putting you both through too much too quickly? We can head back to town¡ª"


    "Apologies," I said, dredging up a rueful grin. "We''re a worrisome sort of friends to have. I''ve been getting an odd feeling¡ªsomething about the mana feels off somehow. Even a little malevolent."


    There was a short tense silence. Then Lucius struck his forehead with his palm. "Gods dammit. I''m such a fool."


    "Lucius. Explain." Maya reiterated. But the scowling noble was too busy swatting brambles away and fiddling with the gate''s lock.


    A particularly thick vine brushed against his sleeve twice, applying enough pressure to mis-align the key with the lock until the Baron, seemingly losing his cool entirely, grabbed the vine in his gloved hand and shouted something indecipherable. All at once, the anxious feeling of burgeoning violence subsided. The shadows beneath the border wall shrank, becoming clearer and less threatening. What my mind had previously disregarded as an ordinary mess of weeds and uneven dirt was actually a garden planted in healthy dark soil, growing various herbs common in healing and apothecary work.


    "This is not the way I''d planned to do this," Lucius murmured, staring at the house in distaste. "What you''re feeling is a sort of magical repellent."


    "So... a ward." Maya translated, a little slack-jawed. And for good reason. Wards were prohibitively expensive, both in terms of gold and sheer, horrifically inefficient, massive consumption of mana they required. "Lucius, whatever you''re using this place for, I have to imagine that''s overkill."


    "And it would be," Lucius said as he stepped over a barely visible root, taking great care to avoid it. "If we were using the infernal methods."


    Maya''s jaw dropped. "It''s Elven? You''re protecting this place with an Elven ward?"


    "Yes." Lucius said, not bothering to hide his pride. "Which on top of being more difficult to break, are a great deal more subtle. No burned out eyeholes or scorched mana circuits even if you force your way in. It... well mainly, it just makes you feel like shit the whole time you''re giving it a once over."


    "Or have the misfortune of existing nearby," I muttered, and Lucius laughed.


    "That was an early concern. Amusing as it might be otherwise, the ward only affects those who intend to breach it and are absent from the list." He nodded along as Maya perked up. "Another difference between infernal and Elven variants, or so I''m told."


    "It targets intent?" Maya''s eyebrow rose sky-high. "We didn''t even plan to trespass."


    "Didn''t have to." Lucius shifted his head. "It''s designed to be flexible. You were following me, and as of a few minutes ago I decided to bring you here. As commissioner of the ward and current owner of this place, I wasn''t aware that was possible. And even if it was, the mana investment must''ve been enormous."


    "The specifics escape me." Lucius gave the front of the house a forlorn sigh, corners of his mouth quirking in a pained smile. "All I know is one night I was in the Maiden''s Thimble, complaining¡ªloudly¡ªabout the amount of traffic coming and going seemingly whenever I didn''t happen to be attending this project personally, judging from the picked locks and forced windows." He paused, glancing between us. "Don''t blame them for it. If your local lord spent years building a house with all manner of curiosities moving in and out of it, you''d be sticking your nose in first opportunity. Anyway, back to the tavern. A..." he briefly raised his hands and planted his index fingers perpendicular to the top of his ears, bringing them to a distinct point. "...tourist of the more elegant persuasion offered his services. Sleight for an elf. I was suspicious, at first, as was the wife. Can''t live long in a small town without developing a healthy wariness towards those who call themselves traveling magicians. But he was the real deal, as you''ve both no doubt ascertained."


    Without further explanation, the boy¡ªno, baron¡ªapproached the house and swung the door open.

 Chapter 260: Kholis V

    Chapter 260: Kholis V


    It was a testament to Lucius''s handiwork that despite everything I''d witnessed, this sanctuary he''d spent years cultivating beckoned with an undeniable sense of wonder. The rose-hued walls, masterfully constructed from a lightly tinted wood I couldn''t name, seemed almost alive beneath my fingertips¡ªradiating a gentle warmth and yielding with the subtlest give, as though breathing. Nature''s imperfections became art in Lucius''s hands; swirling whorls and varied grain patterns danced across the surfaces like stories waiting to be read, each imperfection deliberately preserved and elevated into something beautiful.


    Lucius exhaled a visible cloud into the still air. "Damn. Cold in here." He peeled off his gloves with practiced motions, his fingers pale and stiff as he rubbed them together. His boots fell heavy against the sturdy floorboards, echoing slightly beneath several intricately woven rugs as he crossed to what appeared to be a hearth, obscured in the dim light. With methodical precision that belied his obvious discomfort, he extracted several small logs from a wrought-iron holder, stacking them with careful deliberation in the fireplace''s waiting mouth.


    Maya lingered at my side, her eyes wide with genuine curiosity. A person''s private spaces revealed truths their words often concealed, and this was no exception. Even in these first moments, the meticulous craftsmanship surrounding us spoke volumes¡ªevery element blending seamlessly into the next with a perfectionism I''d never suspected resided within the baron.


    Lucius swore under his breath, still wrestling with the fire pit. With no torch in sight, I rummaged through my bag for flint and steel. "Light that for you?"


    "Hells no." His eyes flashed toward me with unmistakable wariness.


    I rolled my eyes. "Not with demon fire. Obviously."


    "Appreciated." Lucius straightened, brushing invisible dust from his clothes with an affected casualness that didn''t quite reach his eyes. With growing smugness, he reached for a small metal lever mounted on the wall nearby. "But unnecessary. Here in Kholis, we rely on more modern methods." The lever descended with a satisfying click, and an acrid scent tickled my nostrils just before the hearth''s base glowed. Fractal patterns of cherried red spread across the darkly colored stones, each one awakening with inner fire. Within moments, the logs he''d arranged began to crackle and hiss¡ªtheir resistance surrendering to heat as flames licked upward, smoke spiraling into the waiting chimney. The fire''s warm glow revealed the hearth''s perfect stonework: dark granite blocks meticulously arranged, surrounded by an array of additional knobs and levers that marked it unmistakably as dwarven craftsmanship.


    "Lord below," Maya breathed, abandoning the hearth to explore the newly illuminated living space. Plush chaises and invitingly deep chairs surrounded a large black throw rug sporting the preserved head of what must have once been a truly massive bear, its glass eyes reflecting the dancing firelight.


    Outside, the cloud cover parted momentarily, allowing streams of sunlight to pour through the generous windows.


    Further within, cabinets and cupboards lined the walls, their tops crowned with the same dark granite, a simple metal basin nestled at the center. Beside it sat a small structure with a slanted top reminiscent of a roof. My mouth quirked with amusement at the tiny rectangle on its front, complete with a miniature handle. I gave it a gentle, playful knock. "Did you build a house in your house?" I turned to Lucius with a grin.


    "Don''t¡ª" he began, alarm flashing across his features.


    To my utter astonishment, the diminutive door swung open. A tiny figure, clad in what appeared to be leaves bound with delicate twine, finished rubbing sleep from its eyes before staring up at me in abject horror. Its obsidian eyes blinked languidly, disbelief transforming rapidly to outrage.


    "Ah!" I startled back. It wasn''t this particular creature''s fault, exactly, but the last time I''d encountered one of its kind, it had been feasting on the fallen during my coronation.


    "What¡ª" Maya''s voice caught in her throat.


    "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The pixie''s shriek pierced the air like shattered glass as she jabbed an accusatory finger in my direction. She launched herself skyward in a blur of motion, her long white hair streaming behind her like a comet''s tail. She darted in dizzying patterns, a hummingbird''s flight path rendered in miniature, before seeking refuge behind Lucius. Landing on his shoulder, only her head and frantically gesturing hands visible as she cowered behind his collar, her fury was undiminished by her fear.


    What followed was an intense one-sided conversation, Lucius''s measured responses repeatedly shattered by the pixie''s high-pitched tirade that seemed to rise and fall like agitated music. "No, there''s no need to call the guard. Everything is fine." He paused, wincing at a particularly strident burst of sound. "He only did that because he has yet to learn the rules. If you want to blame anyone for that, blame me¡ª" Another torrent of crystalline complaints interrupted him, and Lucius''s shoulders sagged slightly. "I told you this would happen one day. Circumstances did not allow me time to warn¡ª" The admonishments crescendoed, and Lucius, recognizing defeat, fished a silver rod from his purse with resigned familiarity.


    The angry tinkling ceased as if cut by a knife''s edge. The pixie snatched the currency from his fingers and descended to the counter, holding the silver up to the window''s light. She turned it over repeatedly with the scrutiny of a master jeweler, and seemingly satisfied with its authenticity, heaved it over her shoulder and disappeared into the tiny house, the door slamming with surprising force behind her.


    A profound silence settled between the three of us, thick with unspoken questions.


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    "Did I... just commit a huge cultural gaffe that you had to pay reparations for?" I finally managed, the absurdity of the situation dawning on me.


    Lucius tilted his head side-to-side with diplomatic caution. "More or less."


    I tossed him a silver rod, barely containing my laughter. It wasn''t so much the creature itself that amused me as her fiery, indignant reaction, and how quickly her tune had changed once silver entered the equation. "That was... unexpected. It''s been a long time since I''ve seen a pixie even in passing."


    "I''ve only ever seen glimpses of them from a distance in the Everwood, but that was years ago," Maya agreed, her gaze still fixed on the tiny dwelling.


    Lucius pointed at Maya, recognition brightening his expression. "Yes. They often played parts in the stories you told us. Fictional, I''m sure, but not easily forgotten. Years later, there was a rash of sightings, and I took it upon myself to seek them out. The rest is... a long story, one better told once we finish the tour and you''ve both had time to rest." He gestured toward the miniature house. "In the meantime, consider her a live-in assistant. If you have need, press here." His finger indicated a silver bell no larger than a thimble''s tip mounted beside the door. He pressed the delicate striker at its center, releasing a cheery ring that seemed disproportionately loud for its size. The pixie reappeared in her doorway, eyeing the three of us with suspicious expectation. "Just demonstrating, Tia." The door slammed with decisive finality. Lucius offered an apologetic smile. "She''s not usually this sour. They''re just... very strict about respect and personal possessions, as those who have little often are. The home is hers, as is the door. The bell is communal."


    "Ah." Realization dawned. "And I knocked."


    "Exactly. Keep that small detail in mind, along with the fact that if her curtains are drawn, she is likely out foraging and socializing. If you respect their boundaries, they''re fantastic housekeepers. You''ll want to set aside a small portion of the food you make, and if she assists you in the process, set aside double. A pittance considering how little they eat."


    "Are we... staying here?" Maya asked, barely concealing her surprise at the possibility.


    Something fleeting and melancholy shadowed Lucius''s eyes as he looked between us¡ªa quiet vulnerability quickly masked. "For as long, or as briefly, as you''d like." Then it vanished entirely, replaced by the polished demeanor of the consummate host. "Come. Let''s see the rest of it."


    /////


    There was more. Far more. Behind the house bubbled a natural hot spring, with open piping that led to several stalls where one could step inside, draw the curtain, and let the steaming water cascade over their head and shoulders. A verdant garden sprawled outward, planted with varieties of useful and valuable herbs and flowers that I recognized from a dozen different kingdoms.


    As the tour continued, a simple truth crystallized with each new revelation. My suspicions grew when he introduced us to the extensive alchemy lab nestled in the cellar, its shelves stocked with ingredients I''d once mentioned in passing. By the time we reached the meticulously organized library¡ªfilled with rare volumes on nonhuman history, lore, and magic, including valuable tomes covering both life magic and the dantalion flame¡ªit was impossible to ignore.


    This wasn''t some random novelty the baron had constructed in his spare time. It was too intentional, too specific in its details. Too personal.


    Finally, when it became too much to bear, I asked. "Lucius. Did you build this place... for us?"


    He froze, caught like a child with stolen sweets, before his features composed themselves into studied neutrality. He shrugged with an artificial nonchalance that couldn''t quite disguise the weight of his words. "In my youth... I believed the threat we faced would not be so long-lived. That the bond we shared, brief as it was, would draw us all back together early and often. Like a children''s tale, we''d band together to unwind those grand mysteries and conspiracies you put in my head." He paused, meeting my gaze with quiet intensity. "I suppose I imagined a world in which we all had far more time on our hands. So, yes, one of my first acts as Baron was to build this place. Eventually, reality set in, and I stopped wringing my hands, waiting with bated breath for news of your return."


    "We never forgot you," Maya said, her voice soft with unsheathed guilt. "It was just¡ª"


    "¡ªWhat?" Lucius interrupted, arching an eyebrow. "Difficult to pen me in between the grand battles and repairing the dimension gate?" His eyes found mine. "Dying and resurrecting really took up that much of your time?"


    Though clearly intended as jest, his words carried a barb that found its mark. Lucius had never seemed to hold his father in high regard, but I understood better than most how complicated that path could be. The baron had only just passed when we''d been forced to depart in the battle''s aftermath, as I was rushed to the Sanctum nursing a soul injury that threatened to claim my life.


    Now, picturing him waiting for word year after year, for a visit that never came...


    I clasped his shoulder firmly. "We''ll make up for lost time."


    Maya nodded with earnest conviction. "And won''t stay away for nearly as long. I..." She gazed around the home once more, something akin to reverence in her expression. "This is too great a gift."


    Suddenly sheepish, Lucius thrust his hands into his pockets. "Hardly. Cairn lives in a gods-damned palace; this is quaint by comparison."


    "A palace filled with liars, spies, and sycophants," I countered, amused by the notion that anyone besides my father could find genuine comfort there. "Trust me, by comparison, this is an oasis in the desert."


    The praise pleased him visibly; color rose to his cheeks despite his efforts to appear unmoved. "That was intended to be its purpose. A place for either of you¡ªor both¡ªto stay and rest, presumably from your travels. When it became... obvious I''d been a bit fantastical in my expectations, I kept the place as a project. Anything I''ve introduced to Kholis I''ve tested here first. The pixies, the integrated dwarven tech. Hells, we have more Rootsong trees in Kholis than some full groves, all raised from saplings traded from the elves." He trailed off as we both regarded him with mounting curiosity.


    Suddenly his smugness returned tenfold. "Elphion take my eyes. Does a yokel lord in the armpit of Uskar have knowledge that has escaped not one, but two brilliant, well-traveled adventurers?"


    "Gloating does not become you," Maya sniffed.


    "He''s fine," I smirked at Lucius. "If you filter out the smarm, he''s basically just calling us smart and well-traveled."


    With exaggerated grandiosity, Lucius beckoned us to follow, leading us back to the wide room where the hearth glowed with steady warmth. He approached the opposite wall, stopping before what appeared to be a simple wooden panel. Resting the fingertips of one hand against the grain, he bowed his head and murmured something unintelligible. Something within shifted with a whisper of hidden mechanisms, and the panel itself slid open.


    "Come," he gestured us inside.

 Chapter 261: Kholis VI

    Chapter 261: Kholis VI


    Tinted sunlight radiated through a canopy of indigo leaves above. The hidden compartment was small, not much bigger than an apprentices'' room, allowing enough room for the large silver and black trunk of a considerable tree. The air carried a subtle fragrance of earth and something distinctly foreign¡ªa whisper of Elven magic, perhaps. I''d spotted trees with similar trappings around Kholis, though to be honest, the village turned city had gone through such drastic changes that the addition of colorful flora didn''t register high on my awareness.


    I stepped forward and looked straight up, the metal of a carefully disguised drain clinking beneath my feet before craning my neck to look back at Lucius. "Did you put a tree in your house?"


    Maya shook her head disapprovingly as the young noble choked. "Ignore him." She crouched down, examining the thick roots that led into the dirt beneath the grate. "I''m no expert, but this looks far too mature to have been planted recently."


    "Yet it was." Lucius cleared his throat, composure settling back over him like a familiar cloak. "Nearly three years ago to the day."


    "That''s impossible." Maya gasped.


    "In most circumstances it would be, if not for the trick the elves taught me. The walls of this place are made of living wood worked from the same sort of tree. See the graftings?" Lucius pointed above our heads, where a series of wooden rods formed a solid connection between the tree and the walls that housed it. "I''ve redone them three times already, though the frequency of that bit should be less common now that it''s fully grown." He pointed to the pegs. "The connection to the rest of the house forms a sort of network. It sheds heat in the warmer months, and clings to it tightly when the snow piles. The wood lends itself to all sorts of enchantment, making it the perfect anchor for the ward that left such an impression earlier." He shrugged. "Supposedly they do more, but I have yet to see it."


    With a wave, he beckoned us over to the tree''s left side. Bare wood decorated with darker striations shone at the center of a ring of bark, indicating a limb that had been carefully pruned and excised. An uneven ruddy smudge crowned the center, as if a drop of wine had been splashed upon it and hastily wiped away.


    Lucius pulled a glimmering sowing needle from a pouch, brandishing it jokingly as a weapon before handing it over carefully. "It cannot see as we do, but its senses are sharp. Grant some of your essence and it will remember, adding you both as an exception to any magic anchored to it?"


    I did as he instructed, pricking my thumb until a bead of crimson welled up, which I pressed against the unshod wood. An odd sensation shot through to my palm, a tentative, curious buzzing that was reminiscent of mana but more intelligent, in a way that was difficult to describe.


    As the feeling faded, I handed the pin to Maya, who did the same.


    "Now." Lucius managed a wry smile. "After I track your uncle down and make sure he''s found his accommodations, I think we could all use some rest."


    "We should greet your lady wife," Maya started, only to be interrupted as Lucius threw up a stern hand.


    "Absolutely not. She''ll be entirely consumed with the duty of scolding the municipal lord for being away for too long, and it would be unwise to deny her." He looked between us and winked. "Feel free to come and go as you please. We''ll chat again on the morrow."


    The door clicked shut, and with that, he was gone. We stood there silently for a few moments, turning back to the house and taking it all in.


    "Kind of him." I said.


    "Uncommonly kind." Maya agreed. A little too quickly. On closer inspection, I noted the way she seemed to observe me out of the corner of her vigilant eye. With growing suspicion, I took a step forward.


    There was an audible tremor as she matched it, keeping distance.


    Frowning, I took another step. "What¡ªI''m not some beast laying in wait, intending to pounce upon you the moment we are in private."


    "Of course." Again, Maya shuffled away, stubbornly maintaining the same amount of distance.


    "Nothing happened even when you visited me in the bath."


    "That was in Whitefall. There were spies everywhere, and the gods know how many ears pressed to the door. You forget, I''ve seen your mind."


    "Excuse me?!"


    Maya didn''t flinch. "Poor lady Petticoat didn''t even have a chance to put her umbrella down¡ª"


    "¡ªWhich was her preference. It was not our first encounter, I knew her taste." I explained, feeling a flush crawl up my neck.


    "Maya wrinkled her nose, probably at the unfortunate choice of words, then refocused. "You''re saying it was her preference to be taken like a common harlot, bent over the bannister, small clothes dangling betwixt¡ª"


    "¡ªYes." I did my best to stay neutral, heat on my neck spreading upwards and overtaking my face. "She specifically wanted that sort of attention, which was established beforehand. I simply acknowledged those desires and facilitated them."


    "To your own personal enjoyment."


    "Well... yes." I admitted.


    "Why would a noble woman crave such treatment?" Maya asked, blinking several times.


    "Because¡ª" I stopped, taking great effort to remove the exasperation from my voice. However uncomfortable I felt, Maya was likely more uncomfortable, having to sift through a jumble of memories with little context. Patience was crucial. It was only natural she''d have questions along these lines. Hearing it was jarring with how direct she was being, speaking plainly regarding topics we''d never broached, embarrassing because of the intimate perspective we shared, but natural, regardless.


    I started again, more evenly. "Because, as with all things, we often most aspire towards that which we feel is most lacking."


    Maya cocked her head, working through that. "Can you give me some examples?"


    "Absolutely," I said, more than happy to move on to theoreticals. ¡°A milkmaid or servant¡ªsomeone who generally does a great deal of hard labor as their vocation at the behest of others¡ªmight come to their bed with an overwhelming desire to take the lead. Alternatively, if the work is hard enough, they might simply wish to lay back and be pampered.¡±


    "I see," Maya replied, squinting slightly. "Which one was Lady Petticoat?"


    I blew air between my lips. It was less embarrassing now that the shock of surprise was fading. Regardless, discussing the topic of old lovers was avoided as a rule, and reversing that was going to take some getting used to. "Neither. Lady Petticoat was a wealthy widow of high status. Every single person in her life, from servants to suitors, treated her softly and sympathetically, as if she''d break at the slightest bother. Beyond that, her fortune was substantial. She was constantly beset by the ambitious and would-be beneficiaries, many of whom were quite cunning, sometimes borderline criminal in their attempts to loosen her purse strings. This fostered an environment that forced her to be constantly vigilant and reserved, avoiding any appearance of weakness."


    "And she aspired towards that which was most lacking." Understanding dawned in her expression, then confusion. "Is it strange that I''m not sure which I am?"


    "Not at all."


    "Truly? It feels like it should be obvious."


    "It is not a spell to be studied. In this we have more in common with the mages of yore, rooting around in the dark¡ªalbeit cautiously, carefully¡ªand whatever is discovered often deviates from the expected. But we are speaking on matters of sprinting when you have yet to walk."


    "How condescending." Her mouth turned downward as she seemed to take my evaluation as a challenge and moved closer. Her scent washed over me, reviving the recent memory from the bath in a manner that was almost painful in its intoxication. "Most of your conquests lived pampered lives, their bodies soft and pliable, undisciplined. Perhaps it is you who has yet to sprint¡ª"


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    I grabbed her arm and drew her to me. Gently, but suddenly. Her stilted breath warmed my cheek.


    After a moment of shock, a full tremble traveled through her, and her visage paled. Just as quickly I let go, and Maya took a step backward, her expression crestfallen and shaken. "It¡ªthat isn''t fair. I wasn''t ready."


    "Exactly." I told her gently. "It''s not an issue of can or can''t. There''s no doubt that if you set your mind to it and dragged me upstairs to whatever outlandish quarters Lucius prepared for us, you''d manage. But the pressure you''re placing on yourself to rush ahead would almost certainly guarantee discomfort, even pain."


    As she thought on that, her composure returned. "Perhaps it would be better. To see it done, even if it isn''t perfect and vanquish these damn nerves." Her voice warbled as she spoke, betraying the uncertainty beneath her determined words.


    "Why the hurry? We''ve only just arrived."


    Maya looked at me long and hard, her expression screwing into something that would have almost been comical were it not for the frustration it betrayed. "Because we do not know how long this peace will last. Every moment of solace without misery only occurs because there is some foul darkness in the shadow plane, biding its time, waiting until we are most off guard to emerge. I want this. I''ve wanted this for so long that I can''t even fully explain when it started." She looked around, fingers clenching and unclenching at her sides. "And now we''re here, finally alone, behind closed doors, our privacy preserved by a bloody Elven ward¡ª" Maya held up a shaking hand in disgust "¡ªand my body betrays me."


    I understood with a clarity that came from walking the same shadowed path. That creeping paranoia that whispered in the quietest moments¡ªthe sense that peace was merely the indrawn breath before a storm¡ªhad become as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.


    "Our habitual misfortune is not..." I struggled, the word hovering just beyond reach before finally crystallizing in my mind. "Fated. We are not cursed. Were we to flip the raven to the gods, plunder Whitefall''s treasury, charter a ship and prance off to another continent with the express purposes of finding a quiet patch of land to live out the rest of our lives, we would likely do so happily until Ragnarok inevitably claimed us."


    Maya breathed out audibly, and some of the tension left her shoulders. "Yet that is not the life we''ve chosen. We are in danger because we''ve repeatedly placed ourselves in places and situations where danger is present."


    I nodded. "Beyond that, the only time I can think of when we weren''t being pursued or actively chasing something was when your family boarded me during those first days in the Enclave. We can hazard a crisis better than most on this plane, and when things are truly dire, there is not a single person I''d rather have by my side. But the unfortunate part is, we''ve never had a chance to just... be. At no point have we been able to simply dwell in each other''s presence and discover who we are when we''re together, with no enemy or maneuvering to counter."


    Maya nodded along, listening, tail swishing from side to side as she seemed to agree. Eventually, she bit her lip and looked away. "There''s truth in your words. But at the end of this, if I looked back and realized the time was wasted, I couldn''t forgive myself for it."


    "Then let''s not waste time. Take it off." When boggling eyes stared back at me, and Maya looked ready to go sprinting for the door, I quickly amended. "Uh¡ªthe glamour, of course." Her eyes narrowed as I backpedaled further. "Unless you''d rather leave it on. It''s your choice. It just feels a little..."


    "A little what?" Maya challenged, cocking her head in a manner that indicated my next words should be chosen very carefully.


    I cleared my throat, buying time. "There are many walls that separate us in our day-to-day lives. Walls that serve a purpose, insulating us from both our enemies and those who constantly wring their hands over the fate of the crown. During this time we''re away, if it''s all the same to you, I''d like there to be as little separating us as possible."


    The corner of her mouth pulled up. "Like the other day in the bath?"


    A groan escaped me before I could suppress it. "As monastic as I might appear, much more of that and you''re going to kill me."


    "Very well." Maya withdrew the glamoured necklace from beneath her dress before she paused, dangling it between us. Her eyes traveled down my left sleeve. "I''ll remove my glamour if you remove your glove."


    That surprised me. It was only fair, of course. Asking her to be vulnerable while I maintained barriers of my own was pretty unreasonable now that I thought about it. Yet... there was a part of me that rebelled against the idea. The fact that the demonic chitin granted to me as a boon had not stopped at the transformed arm was not lost on me. Vanity was a luxury there was no longer time for, and yet, I''d never fully made peace with it, either. It was a part of me that, outside of combat, my mind shoved by the wayside and pretended didn''t exist. Careful to hide my distaste, I removed the soft leather with my normal hand. The unnaturally dark fingers came to nail-like points, and my thumb caught on the groove-like texture. "It''s... unsightly."


    "I think it''s charming." Maya disagreed, looking me up and down with a gaze that held no revulsion, only sincere appreciation.


    "Even if it is reminiscent of someone we both find distasteful?"


    Silently, she nodded, looking it over once more. "The other day, I couldn''t help but notice that in a certain light, it looks statuesque. As if part of you is carved from stone."


    "It doesn''t remind you of the demons and their troublesome history with your people?"


    Maya shook her head, a distant nostalgia in her eyes. "It reminds me of the price you paid. How willingly you paid it." She laughed a little. "And how determined I am to clear that debt before it comes due."


    I frowned. "I''m not sure how to feel about that, given your recent discussions with Ozra. Fair warning. If you manage to swap our fates or fall upon a metaphorical sword for me, I''ll use every resource at my disposal to vex you from the afterlife..."


    The words died on my tongue as, true to her word, Maya pulled the necklace over her head and removed the glamour. A slight shimmer rippled through her, more obvious now that I knew what to look for, and the unnatural smoothness of her skin became textured, as numerous lightly colored scars that paid her warpath through the Sanctum rose to the surface. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she looked away. "When we go out on the town, or Lucius comes to visit, it will remain firmly in place. Only when we are alone."


    "Well met and returned." I agreed easily. "Now, given the wide breadth of my experience¡ªof which I''m constantly reminded¡ªit''s only reasonable that I take the lead. You were worried about wasting time, yes?"


    "Yes..." Maya agreed reluctantly, some of the earlier skittishness returning as she regarded me with caution. Shortly after, her resolve firmed. "Yes."


    With that tacit approval, I reached out, taking her hand in mine, fingers interlocking. "This is a legendary technique with which many lovers begin their early journey together. A method of intimacy couched in comfort that all but guarantees future prosperity."


    She bit her lip gently, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I''m ready. What is it?"


    "We''re already doing it." Lifting my arm and hers along with it, I held up our joined hands.


    There was a pregnant silence. Her cheeks distended slightly, as if she was holding something in. Then laughter racked out of her in waves. "Really? This is the extent of your ambition?"


    I scoffed. "How dare you."


    "Sorry, sorry." She wiped a mirthful tear from her eye. "You''re being patient. Far better than the alternative. It''s just... well, we''ve done this before. Many times."


    "Whilst terrified, under threat of death or worse." I pointed out. "When every touch was laden with urgency and fear, never with true peace."


    Something about the way I said it seemed to get through, and Maya considered it thoughtfully with a small smile. "I suppose it''s a little different in the context. Gentle and comforting. Far less involved than what I''d imagined."


    "That''s the point." I agreed. "Starting small. Our time together should not be trying. On that note, given the difference in experience, I think it''s best that you set the pace. If you''re feeling daring, comfortable enough to take the next step, I''ll be there to take it with you."


    Tentatively, Maya withdrew her hand and looked at it, pressing her thumb into her palm. "And if the nerves get the better of me and I venture no further?"


    "Then we will relax, and drink, and further less carnal ends. We''ve both clearly neglected Lucius, which should be rectified either way. The lithid''s remnant needs further testing, and I''ve sidelined my own development for far too long."


    "And... you''d be satisfied?" She asked, searching my face for any indication to the contrary, her eyes revealing more vulnerability than I''d ever seen in them before.


    "I already have everything I need."


    It was strange, to say such a thing and find it true. Desire no longer held dominion over me as it once had. My appetites, grand as they were, now seemed obvious in their designs. Various balms for loneliness as unquenchable as the desert itself. Palliatives that provided only fleeting relief for the coldness I felt come morning.


    Maya had conquered that loneliness. Even in the darkest moments, she gave me a reason to push forward.


    For her, I could wait. Forever if it came to that.


    It shocked me a little when she rushed me with a sudden embrace, arms locked tightly around my back, face pressed into my chest. "It''s okay. You can be a little more selfish."


    Her scent enveloped me¡ªjuniper and lavender intertwining with something uniquely her own¡ªa fragrance that bypassed rational thought and struck directly at something deep within me. It clung to my senses, intoxicating as fine wine, until I found my carefully constructed restraint crumbling beneath waves of burgeoning desire. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to let my thoughts wander to exactly what a-little-more selfish entailed, and let my hands wander along with them¡ª


    Take it easy. You just promised to let her take the lead.


    An excuse came to me, and I seized it. "As much¡ª" My voice faltered, and I cleared my throat. "Though the explanation you gave Lucius was cover to guarantee our privacy, that doesn''t make it any less true. There are some things we need to talk about that we can''t risk discussing in the capital. And it would be best to broach them before Vogrin has returned to overhear us."


    The softness in Maya''s expression evaporated, replaced by that stoic coldness that armored her in matters of strategy and survival. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting almost imperceptibly. "Right," she murmured, the single word falling between us like a drawn blade. "The Black Beast."


    And now, we knew his name.


    "Lycaon."