Paragon of Destruction

"Lady Snowcloud?" The young novice’s eyes were wide with surprise as he looked at her. "You’re alive? And you’re here?"

"Clearly," Snowcloud replied.

They had met the Soaring Sun patrol only moments earlier, and the half dozen novices in the patrol all seemed shocked at having run into Snowcloud. The recruits among them, meanwhile, looked at the scene with discomfort. While they might not recognize Snowcloud themselves, their leaders’ startled expressions were enough to cause them concern.

"Apologies, Lady Snowcloud," the novice said, visibly struggling to regain his composure. "It’s just that... rumor has it that the Waning Moon is hunting you. Elder Naran even sent several dozens of search parties to find you, but nobody’s seen any sign of you for months, and many thought you were dead. I hadn’t expected you to turn up here, so close to our camp."

"How far is the Soaring Sun camp?" Snowcloud asked, ignoring the novice’s other words.

"Half a day’s travel, less if we hurry." He gestured into the distance, indicating the direction of the camp. "But what about her?" He cast a suspicious glance at Zehava, whom he clearly recognized as an Iron Mountain novice.

"She comes with us," Snowcloud said. "Now let’s go."

She made no attempt to explain the situation to the novice, nor did she ask him any questions. Theirs was a matter that random novices had no business knowing about, and the young man would not be able to tell them anything useful.

What they needed was to meet with Elder Naran and the other Soaring Sun Elders, and they needed to do so without delay.

The half-day it took them to reach the camp passed in silence, with the Soaring Sun novices quickly understanding that their curiosity would not be satisfied.

While the two groups both ostensibly consisted of novices and recruits, there could be no doubt that although Snowcloud and her companions did not outrank the others in terms of titles, they certainly surpassed them in confidence and experience.

They reached the Soaring Sun camp early in the afternoon, and immediately, Arran saw that this camp was at least as large as the previous one had been, if not larger.

At its center was a tall hill, upon which stood a large stone fort. Both the fort and the hill beneath it seemed new, and Arran suspected they had been erected through magic only months earlier.

For at least a mile around the hill, numerous tents covered the ground. They were arranged in neat rows, with wide walkways and the occasional training field between them, and numerous people going about their business wherever he looked. It resembled a city built of tents, except not a single person within it was unarmed.

At a glance, he guessed there were at least fifty thousand people in the camp, and likely even more than that. Although the vast majority of these were recruits, he also spotted many novices, and a number of mages he suspected of being adepts.

It was a sight that once would have filled him with awe, but now, he knew that the true power of the army lay with the handful of powerful mages who would be inside the fort. Even if Elder Naran were pitted against all the novices and recruits the army held, Arran had little doubt the odds would be on the Elder’s side.

Amid the bustle and noise of the camp, their group drew little attention. Though some of the novices they passed glanced their way, there was a constant coming and going of patrols, and theirs was just one of many.

This changed when they reached the foot of the hill, however. The hill itself was clear of tents, and posted around it were several small groups of mages whom Arran thought were adepts rather than novices. And as soon as they entered the clear space around the hill, one of those small groups approached them.

"What’s your business?" a severe-looking woman asked. Just short of her middle years, she was lean and tall, with eyes that suggested she had little patience for troublesome novices.

The novice who led the patrol replied at once, his voice deferential. "While we were out on patrol, we encountered Lady Snowcloud."

The woman’s eyes turned to Snowcloud and she raised an eyebrow. "So you did. Lady Snowcloud, I did not expect to see you here."

"We need to speak to Elder Naran," Snowcloud said curtly. "Immediately." Her voice held none of the deference the novice had shown, and her tone suggested that it was an order rather than a request.

"I suspect he will want to speak with you, too," the woman replied. "Very well. As for the rest of you, leave." The novices and recruits did as she said at once, but when she saw that Arran, Zehava, and Rockblaze remained, she asked Snowcloud, "These three are with you?"

"They are."

As the woman guided them up the hill, Arran looked in the distance, and saw that this camp was not the only one in the area.

Several miles to the south stood a similarly sized camp, built around its own hill like a mirror image of the Soaring Sun camp — the Waning Moon army, no doubt. And to the east, blocking the way between the two armies and the mountains, was another camp, nearly as large as the other two combined. This, Arran knew, would be the Iron Mountain army — their enemies’ base of power.

Arran had no chance to study the view any further, as the woman guided them into the fort without delay. Just moments later, they entered a large room in which they found Elder Naran along with half a dozen other mages, each of whom exuded an aura of power.

A large grin appeared on Elder Naran’s face the moment he laid eyes on them, both joy and relief plainly visible in his expression.

"At last, some good news," the giant man said in a cheerful voice before the adept could even announce them. "I feared the two of you had been taken by the Waning Moon traitors. Tell me, how did you escape them?"

"It wasn’t the Waning Moon that came after us," Snowcloud said. "It was the Iron Mountain."

She wasted no time on pleasantries, instead immediately explaining what had happened — how they had encountered an Iron Mountain search party, and how the adepts had tried to kill them.

As she spoke, the expressions of both Elder Naran and the other mages in the room turned dark. Although there was no shock in their eyes, the news Snowcloud brought about the Iron Mountain was clearly unwelcome.

"So it’s like that," Elder Naran finally said. "It seems I’ve underestimated the danger our Valley faces."

"It’s worse than you think," Snowcloud said. She gestured at Rockblaze, then continued, "This one is a spy for the Seventh Valley’s Matriarch. She’s sent many others, and if the Sixth Valley falls to traitors, she intends to take action and invade."

This time, Snowcloud’s news did shock the mages. Conflict within the Sixth Valley was one thing, but a conflict with another Valley was a different matter entirely — just the mention of it was something that filled everyone in the room with visible dread.

"A war between the Valleys?!" one of them said, an elderly woman with a panicked look on her face. "She cannot do that! A war like that would be ruinous! The entire Society will be weakened!"

"All of you, quiet!" Before the scene could erupt into chaos, Elder Naran’s voice thundered through the room so loudly that Arran thought he could feel the floor shake. Then, the giant man turned to Snowcloud, and said in a calm voice, "From the look on your face, I expect there’s more you wish to tell us."

"There is," Snowcloud confirmed. She took a deep breath, then said, "I can cure Grandfather."

Her words were met with a stunned silence. None of the mages present in the room had been prepared for this revelation, and it took them several moments to fully process it.

Finally, Elder Naran spoke once more. "Are you sure of this?"

"I am," Snowcloud replied. "Most of you know that before my mother disappeared, she left the Valley in search of a cure. What you don’t know is that she left notes detailing the cure she devised. I found those notes, and now, I have completed the work she started."

Of course, that wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the mages’ curiosity, and for nearly half an hour, Snowcloud obligingly answered their answers about her mothers’ notes, the cure, and how she had managed to create it. Some parts she omitted, like the help Crassus had given them, but everything else she explained in detail.

"Enough questions," Elder Naran eventually said. "We’ve all heard enough to know that these aren’t merely the delusions of a child. As far as I can tell, the cure she created should have a reasonable chance of working, which is more than anyone else has accomplished."

He sighed deeply, then continued, "That means we’re left with only one question: how to get the cure to the Patriarch. And with the Iron Mountain standing between us and the Sixth Valley, that will be no easy task."

One of the mages coughed softly, a gray-haired man with a venerable appearance and calm, dark eyes. "Surely it would suffice to announce that a cure has been found. Once the Valley learns of this, none would dare stand in our way."

"Don’t be an idiot," Elder Naran replied bluntly. "Both the Iron Mountain and the Waning Moon would dismiss it as a trick. And even if they didn’t, the traitors within the Iron Mountain would fight to the death before letting us pass — if the Patriarch recovers, they’re as good as dead, anyway."

"Then we fight," the elderly woman who had panicked earlier said, her voice now resolute. "Between the mages in this room, we have enough power to force our way through any army." Her eyes narrowed, and she gazed at Elder Naran. "And even if they stop the rest of us, you will be able to get through."

Elder Naran hesitated briefly, then shook his head. "The moment we get involved, the other factions’ Elders will respond, and a battle like that is one none of our armies would survive. The Valley would lose an entire generation of novices and recruits. And worse, we still have to find a way to get past the traitors within the Valley itself."

"Traitors?" the woman frowned. "You mean to say that there are more traitors than just the Iron Mountain?"

"I cannot be certain," Elder Naran replied, "but we would be fools not to consider it likely. We should expect to find enemies even within the Valley."

Once more, the room went silent as the mages pondered the situation. Yet none of them offered a solution, and the longer the silence lingered, the gloomier their expressions grew.

Finally, convinced that none of the others had an answer, Arran spoke up. It was something he had wanted to avoid for a number of reasons, but now, it seemed there was no other choice.

"I may have a solution," he said in a low voice.

One of the mages gave him a derisive glare. "This is not a matter a child—"

"Quiet!" Elder Naran interrupted the man. Then, he looked at Arran questioningly. "This solution of yours, what is it?"

Arran briefly hesitated. "It’s not something I can discuss with others around," he said after a moment.

"All of you, leave the room," the giant man said at once, motioning for the other mages to exit. "But don’t stray from the fort — anyone tries to leave the fort, I will consider them traitors."

There were some unhappy looks among the assembled mages, but none of them dared speak against Elder Naran, and they hurriedly did as he said.

Within moments, the room was empty except for Arran, Snowcloud, and Elder Naran, with the latter looking at Arran intently.

"The room is warded," he said. "You can speak freely."

Arran gave him a brief nod. Then, he began to speak.

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