The Beginning After The End

Vajrakor’s presence receded with each step we took while Caera’s strength returned bit by bit. Cramped tunnels gave way to sprawling, ornate halls, and finally, to the open expanse of Vildorial’s primary cavern. From the steps of the palace, the entire underground metropolis sprawled out before us.

Varay eyed me with an air of uncertainty, clearly second-guessing how I’d handled the altercation with the dragon. “I’m going to make sure that Torviir and Bolgar are sufficiently insulated from this situation, then I have my own duties to attend to. Will you be in the city long?”

I glanced at Caera. “Probably not.”

“Be careful, Arthur,” she said, a small frown creasing her brow. “Despite winning back our continent, I can’t help but feel as if Dicathen has never been in more danger than it is right now.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “What’s that saying about frying pans and fires?”

“Except in this case, it is dragon’s fire,” Varay said darkly. She held out her hand to Caera. When Caera took it, Varay pressed something into her palm. “I grabbed this when I heard Arthur was approaching the city. I know I’m only returning what is yours, but I want you to know that, if Arthur trusts you, I do too.” Then her feet lifted off the ground and she flew out into the open cavern.

Caera slid an ornate ring onto her finger, her gaze shifting to me as she fidgeted anxiously. “I am…grateful that you came. And I apologize for striking you, I—”

I waved a hand dismissively. “I deserved worse. You never should have had to endure that, any of it.”

Silence fell between us, and I awkwardly started walking, trying to think of what else to say. I’d been forced to leave Alacrya without explanations or goodbyes; the last time I saw her, she still thought I was Ascender Grey. I wouldn’t blame her if she hated me for my lies, but I comforted myself with the fact that Seris had known the truth and still sent Caera to find me.

“My mother is an emitter—a healer,” I said after a couple minutes just to break the awkward silence. “She can mend your wounds.”

“My wounds aren’t important,” Caera said forcefully, then her mouth clamped shut and she looked away.

“I’m sorry,” I said, watching her from the corner of my eye. “For this, and for lying to you about my identity.”

“I suppose it makes us even,” she said humorlessly, still not looking at me.

A patrol of dwarven guards stopped to watch us, nervously fingering their weapons. I kept an eye on them until we had moved past and they resumed their march.

“Where were you?”

“The Relictombs are built in a dimension all made of aether. The zones just sort of…float, disconnected from everything in this vast aetheric ocean. I used that aether to bring back my old bond, Sylvie, the one who…”

“Who sacrificed herself for you? And you succeeded? In bringing her back, I mean.”

“I did.” I hesitated to continue, turning my senses inward to my aether core.

The broken shards of my original mana core were still fused together within a solid barrier of aether, an almost crystalline structure. The core had taken on a deep magenta color when I originally forged it, but had darkened with each subsequent layer. Now, the three-layered core was a vivid purple sphere resting dark and heavy in my sternum. Each layer provided greater refinement of the stored aether and allowed more aether to be drawn in and stored inside the core.

When I had first forged the aether core, I could hardly condense enough for a single aetheric blast. It had taken significant training and refinement of the core to allow for even two or three blasts, but adding a second layer had increased my capacity exponentially in an instant.

There hadn’t been time to test what my core—and by extension, what I—was capable of doing now, but it felt different, more potent, like a miniature sun trapped in my chest.

Speaking falteringly, I continued, explaining what I had done and why. “Unfortunately, disconnected from the world, none of us were capable of sensing the passage of time.”

“So you spent two months meditating and gathering aether?” Caera asked, sounding dumbstruck. “Grey, that’s…insane.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, embarrassed. “Honestly, it was probably longer since time seems to move faster in the Relictombs.”

Caera shook her head. “That’s true. It could have been six months for all you know…” She let out a long, weary sigh. “You could have ended up not coming back at all.”

We were interrupted by someone shouting my name, and I realized we were passing through one of the small markets that dotted the highway. A young elven girl ran up to me, pressed a dried flower into my hand, then sprinted away giggling. Most of those we had passed by simply stared at us, but the focus was always on Caera.

I had grown used to the horns wrapping around her head like a crown, but to the people of this continent, those horns made her look like an enemy.

“Why did Seris send you to Dicathen?” I asked, turning off the winding highway toward the gates of the Earthborn Institute. “And without your pendant to hide your horns?”

“She said she needs—needed you in Alacrya soon. But that was…”

“Two months ago,” I finished for her.

“I was attacked on my way to the tempus warp. An ally of Seris’s, another pupil, betrayed her,” she continued, her words dripping icy venom. “I was nearly captured, only just escaped Scythe Dragoth Vritra. I must have lost the pendant during the battle.”

“So,” I said slowly, letting the word linger in the air. “My friend Haedrig is dead then?”

Caera gave a startled laugh. “Oh my. I hadn’t even considered that.” Her momentary smile faded. She had dark circles under her eyes, and I could practically see her straining to keep them open. “Perhaps you were right. Seris shouldn’t have sent me here. You aren’t even Alacryan. What’s happened to your people, to your…family—you don’t owe us anything. If I’d known…”

I had still been supporting Caera’s weight while we walked, but now she pulled away from me. When she spoke again, it was with an air of resignation. “You have your own battles to fight, I understand that now. If you can just help me get back to Alacryan, I will—”

Gently taking hold of her forearm, I stopped. She did the same, her scarlet eyes full of questions.

“In that convergence zone, the first time we really met, I was just figuring out what was going on. I was ready to leave everyone there to die once I realized you were all Alacryan. You were enemies, and I thought you all had to be twisted, evil monsters. It was simpler for me to think that.” I took a deep breath. “Caera, you showed me the truth about this war. You and Alaric, Seth and Mayla, everyone I met who was just trying to get by on a continent darkened by Agrona’s shadow. You aren’t my enemy. The asuran tyrants who seek to mold this world into their own cruel little playgrounds—or worse, burn our world to the ground. They are our enemies.”

She gazed up at me for a moment, then gave a small shake of her head. “Does anything frighten you?”

I hung my head, suddenly ashamed. “I’m terrified, Caera. Of not being powerful enough, smart enough, clear-headed enough. But most of all I’m scared of losing. Too many people already look up to me like I’m some kind of deity. I just need you to be…my friend.”

Her eyes searched mine for a long moment, her lips slightly pursed, and then she heaved a long, melodramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. And here I was, all ready to start the first Temple of Grey, He Who Walks Among Us.”

I snorted but couldn’t hide my smile as we started walking away. “I’m glad you’ve managed to retain your sense of humor through everything.”

Caera’s laughter died on her lips, her face darkening. “The dragon’s idea of torture was little worse than what any Alacryan child faces when they begin training for their trials.” But each step she took was heavy, and I knew she was hurting more than she let on.

My amusement shriveled within me.

We didn’t speak anymore until we reached the unassuming door that led into my mother and sister’s home in Vildorial, a small suite of rooms within the Earthborn Institute itself. The door opened before I could knock. Sylvie smiled and stood aside, waving us in.

“Your sister had me paranoid you were going to vanish,” she said lightly. “I think she’s planning to shackle herself to you so you can’t leave her behind again.”

“Sylvie!” Ellie yelled from across the room, indignant. “That was supposed to be a secret.”

I led the way in and scooped Ellie into a bearhug. “Does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?” I asked, crushing her to me.

“Irate,” she gasped, squirming to get free. “Oh, hi Lady Caera, glad my goon of a brother was able to get you out of there.”

I started to release her, frowning. “Did I miss something? How do you—”

Suddenly, Ellie stiffly pulled loose of my grip. She straightened her clothes and looked past me. I followed her gaze to Chul, who had appeared in the doorway behind Caera and me. My brows rose.

“Um, hi,” Ellie said, brushing past me and holding out her hand to the half-asura. His hand engulfed hers. “We didn’t get introduced earlier. I’m Eleanor Leywin.”

“Chul,” he said politely as he scanned the small living room.

“You have really pretty eyes,” she added, staring up into the orange and blue orbs.

He looked away and released her hand. “They are like battle flags, proudly displaying to the world that I am descended from the phoenix and djinn races. Our enemies should tremble at the sight of them.”

“Um, of course,” she said, taking a step back and smiling awkwardly. She walked backwards for a few more steps, then turned and marched into the kitchen. “Mom, Arthur is here with more company!”

Regis, who was lying on his side on the floor, his stomach distended, rolled onto his feet to give Caera a small bow. “M’lady. Glad to see you embracing your horns. The trio, back together again at last.”

Sylvie appeared from the kitchen arch wearing an uncertain smile, caught halfway between amused and uncomfortable. “What’s he—oh, really now! Regis! Don’t be crass.”

Just as I was beginning to regret all my life decisions, my mother appeared. She gave me a peck on the cheek as if to assure me that everything would, in fact, be all right, then stiffened at the sight of Caera. “Oh, dear, look at you!” She whisked across the room to Caera’s side, slipped her arm around the startled Alacryan, and then glared at me. “Arthur Leywin! How dare you drag this young woman around the city in this state.”

I opened my mouth to defend myself against this unfair accusation, second-guessed the impulse, and let my mouth slowly close.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned and patched up,” Mom said, leading Caera toward the hallway that connected to the bedrooms and bath.

“Oh, I’m fine, Mrs. Leywin, seriously, there’s no need to—”

“Call me Alice, dear, remember?”

Caera threw an uncertain look back at me, but I could only mirror her look back as Mom led her deeper into the rooms. A litany of concerned muttering trailed behind them.

“How’d you—”

“Oh, Mom was called in to heal Caera’s wounds when she first arrived,” Ellie said conversationally. “When I heard she supposedly knew you, I went to see if it was true. She’s, ah, pretty cool.” Something about the way Ellie looked at me as she drew out the word “cool” made me squirm uncomfortably.

“What an amusing family you have,” Chul chimed in. He made his way to the couch and eased down on it, testing its strength to make sure it would hold him. When it didn’t collapse, he nodded in satisfaction. “I have looked around this city and decided I have seen enough. Everyone stares at me and there are no enemies to bash. Unless you count the dragons, which I understand are off limits for now. So, when do we start killing basilisks?”

Ellie returned from the kitchen and leaned against the archway. “So, you’re all definitely going to Alarcya then?”

“Our first point of business is to rescue Seris,” Regis said, sitting up and looking serious. “If there is anything of her little rebellion left to save.”

“We are, but we can’t just run off. Caera needs time to rest, and we need to get organized.” I paused, following the progress of a powerful aura approaching us. “There is still a lot I need to wrap my head around. I won’t feel right about leaving the continent until I know certain wheels are in motion.”

“My grandfather will be furious that you didn’t bring me to him immediately,” Sylvie mused.

I shrugged, already heading toward the door. “I don’t think trying to ingratiate ourselves with Kezess is a winning strategy in any situation,” I said over my shoulder.

Opening the door, I looked out into the hallway just as Wren Kain floated around the corner on his stone chair. The titan always wore a look of fused irritation and disappointment, but now he displayed both in abundance.

“Yeah, that’s about how my meeting with the city’s guardian left me feeling, too,” I said, commiserating with Wren Kain’s mood.

“Still more enjoyable than being forced to train an idiot lesser child,” he snapped, pulling up short in his floating throne, which took up most of the hall’s width. His eyes narrowed. “I can see you have something on your mind. What is it you’re planning?”

Chul appeared behind me. One big fist hammered against his chest in a kind of solute. “Elder Wren Kain, fourth of your name, welcome to the strange, claustrophobic abode of Clan Leywin. There will be a great many things here for you to complain about, I’m sure.”

“Complaining is how I get things done,” Wren countered, leaning back farther into his throne.

“If you really wanted to help, you would join us in crushing the Vritra,” Chul went on. “Aldir said you can control an entire army of golems at once. That would be a useful ability when we face Agrona’s forces.”

“If Arthur was eager for help in combat, perhaps he shouldn’t have executed one of Epheotus’s greatest warriors,” Wren shot back, the emotion in his voice surprisingly raw and visceral.

“I didn’t,” I answered quietly. It was one thing to keep up the lie for Mordain and an audience of phoenixes, but an entirely other thing to continue lying to Wren, especially considering what I needed to ask him. “Aldir chose to exile himself in that place. It was his suggestion that I use his ‘death’ to earn accolades from both Kezess and the people of Dicathen.”

“Wha—”

Wren cut himself off, glowering at me. “Your story stinks more than titan bear shit. Why would Aldir do that?” The asura huffed before I could answer, then said, “Ah, that damned pantheon and his sense of honor. Of course he did.” He looked me up and down with a disappointed grimace. “I was stupid to believe that you’d somehow killed Aldir anyway.”

“Thanks,” I said, one brow raised slightly. “I’m sorry I had to lie to you, Wren. I wasn’t sure if I could trust everyone in the Hearth.”

“Bah!” Chul burst out, crossing his massive arms over his broad chest. “My family has roosted for too long. None of them would have interfered either way. They see themselves as separate from the world. And perhaps they are, because they have been made to be, no longer welcome in Epheotus but not fitting in here. The Hearth might as well be locked in time. Once the last of the djinn faded…”

Chul trailed off, then snorted and returned back to my family’s rooms.

“Listen, Wren, I need to speak to you. Would you come with me?” I asked, glad to have cleared the air between us so that I could speak my mind more plainly.

Wren’s scraggy brows rose, and he leaned forward in his seat. “So, you do have something on your mind. Fine, lead the way.”

I sent a probing thought to Regis and Sylvie.

Regis groaned directly into my mind in a way I found somewhat grotesque. ‘Too full, I might have ruptured something. Staying right where I’m at, thanks.’

‘I want to speak more with Ellie,’ Sylvie thought. ‘I’m eager to learn more about her spellform.’

I’ll be back soon, I thought, leading Wren deeper into the institute's winding passages.

We hadn’t gone far before a bestial snuffling noise brought me up short. A huge, hairy mana beast was approaching along the hallway, so broad he took up nearly the entire width.

“Boo, I was wondering where you’d been,” I said, standing aside to let the guardian bear pass.

He snorted and grunted before stopping to sniff at Wren, who made his throne shrink in order to clear the way.

“Windom’s gift to your sister, I presume,” Wren noted, peering appraisingly at Boo. “He seems to have been handled well. A strong bond for a teenage human.”

Boo let out a huff that blew Wren’s hair back, then continued down the hallway, his bulk shifting from side to side with each step.

I considered what Wren had said. It was easy to forget that Windsom had gifted Boo to Ellie. So much had changed since then, it was difficult to think that Windsom had ever been anything but my enemy.

“So what’s your plan exactly?” Wren asked a minute later as we made our way down into the lower passages of the Earthborn Institute.

I had to think about this before I could respond. I’d expected to spend some time navigating the new power dynamic of the dragons embedded throughout Dicathen. Mordain’s warning was still fresh in my mind, and I needed to know the people of the continent were safe. Finding Caera in Vildorial had shifted my priorities, however.

“I need to know what’s happening in Alacrya.”

“So you’ll go yourself.” Wren picked at the ends of his messy hair, frowning thoughtfully. “You’ll need eyes and ears here in Dicathen, though. Who do you trust?”

This question also required some thought. “Virion Eralith. He’s dealt with asura before; even Aldir never cowed him. And the other Lances. To be honest, as a group we were pretty self-absorbed and insufficient during the war, but I’ve seen how much Bairon and Mica have changed. I can’t see any of them being subservient to an asura like Vajrakor.”

“Is that it?” Wren asked, derision dripping from the words. “I’d expected better of you.”

“In less dire circumstances, I would say there are many others I trust. Considering who we’re up against…” I let the statement hang in the air, then continued. “I need your mind, Wren. I don’t think I can do this without you.”

“Intriguing. Do go on.”

“Once I’ve introduced you to your new team.”

A few minutes later, we entered the door of one of several underground laboratories within the Earthborn Institute. The room we entered was more cluttered than the last time I’d visited, with stacks of parchment spread over every surface. Several more tables and shelves had been brought in, and a wide variety of hand-drawn diagrams covered the walls. I couldn’t even begin to take it all in.

Emily Watsken, her curly hair pulled into a messy knot at the back of her head, looked up from her work, and her eyes went so wide they nearly eclipsed the thick, round glasses she wore. “Arthur!”

Her shout immediately preceded the noise of a body part cracking against something hard, which was followed closely by a pained curse and then an explosion. Parchment flew everywhere, and the lab began to fill with smoke.

A figure stepped out through the haze, his eyebrows smoldering. Burning parchment rained around him. “Well, if it isn’t the bane of my existence. Where did you vanish to this time? Land of the gods? A secret third continent full of magical talking lemons?”

“Ugh, that’s the third time I’ve transcribed those notes!” Emily whined.

Something began emitting an angry buzz, and the smoke was pulled to one corner. The room quickly cleared, and I realized an artifact in the corner had drawn in all the smoke. Emily was standing next to the artifact, empowering it with mana. She waved, her hand smudged with dark stains. “Don’t take it personally, Arthur. He’s glad to see you. In fact, he’s been practically distraught at your absence, as its—”

“Oh, be quiet, Watsken,” Gideon snapped, scowling at his pupil. “Anyway, now that you’re back, there are several things to discuss. First, though, who is this?” He looked suspiciously at Wren.

Wren was inspecting a nearby diagram. “Huh, this isn’t the worst. A little rudimentary in its use of mana, but the idea itself is almost clever.”

“Gideon, this is Wrain Kain IV. He’s—”

“An asura, obviously,” Gideon interrupted waspishly. “What do you mean, rudimentary?”

I stepped in between them. “I don’t have time to waste on you two comparing the size of your beakers. Have the dragons interfered at all with your work?”

Gideon managed to look both insulted and self-satisfied. “No, I’ve kept our primary purpose quiet, using the fire salt-imbued weaponry as cover. Windsom himself came to investigate, since he knew me from the war, but he barely looked at the weapons before writing them off as inconsequential and leaving me to it. I don’t think these dragons of yours have much respect for us lessers.”

“Weapons?” Wren turned away from the diagrams, looking genuinely interested. “What’s this about then?”

I explained what we’d already developed. Gideon put in technical details here and there, and Emily made a point to correct us both when necessary. “But the dragons’ arrival has made this even more pressing. Empowering our mages is important, but they make up only one percent of Dicathen’s population. Weapons alone aren’t going to be enough, not really.”

Thinking it through even as I attempted to explain it, I laid out my idea. The others only interrupted to ask a question or point out some contradiction as I circled around my purpose, but confusion and skepticism quickly transformed into interest and then, dare I say it, even excitement.

“It’ll never let a magicless lesser stand up against an Indrath Clan warrior,” Wren said after the entire idea had been laid out. “But it would make Dicathen less dependent on old Kezess.”

“And less subject to his threats to abandon us,” I finished. “Can you handle this? It’ll need to be kept quiet from Vajrakor and the rest of the dragons, of course.”

Wren and Gideon exchanged a look that sent a shiver of pure horror down my spine as I wondered what I had wrought on the world by introducing the two.

Emily’s expression mirrored my own feelings, and she mouthed the words, “What have you done?”

“I’ve been forging weapons since before this continent had a name,” Wren said smugly. “Whelps like Vajrakor and the rest of these baby dragons don’t scare me.”

Gideon snorted. “It seems like you’ve brought me an able assistant, boy. I’m sure we’ll manage. Or blow up half of Vildorial in the process. Now, we should really talk about—”

“No time now,” I interrupted, backing toward the door. “When I get back.”

“You just got back,” Gideon grumbled, throwing up his hands.

“Well, bye then,” Emily said from across the room, waving weakly.

I raised my hand in a gesture of farewell, then was out in the hall and already hurrying back to my mother’s rooms. Despite the urgency of everything that needed to be done, I felt a sense of peace. I could see it all laid out in front of me like a Sovereign’s Quarrel board and, at least for the moment, I knew what move came next.

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