“Shu‘ up,” Liam grumbled. Another booming roll of thunder drown most of the slur out, making Reven and Serai visibly wince. “S’wrong with ya?”
“Nothing,” Reven lied, shutting his eyes tightly to the sudden agony ripping through his head. Another bang of thunder brought Reven’s hands to his ears, his entire body tensing. The sound of the rain was deafening, the wind howling with such force that he was positive the tiny little dingy would be torn apart. They would be nothing but flotsam by morning if the rage of the storm had its way with them. He heard Serai whimper and knew that she felt what he did, felt the pulsing Power cascading down around them. It was not just rain, but Power infused into the very clouds, Power that tore the skies apart and turned the sea into a churning typhoon. Reven read about Hex Storms but had not had the misfortune to live through one.
Beloved, Reven heard as thunder crashed and the waves blew water down into their hiding spot. Reven flinched more, shutting his eyes and shrinking into a smaller ball. He didn’t want to hear the voice, didn’t want to feel the crack of lightning and the rumble of thunder or the static on the air that was trying to tear him apart.
Please, Beloved, let me help you.
“No,” he breathed out. He felt dizzy and heavy. The room fell away from beneath him, replaced instead by hard-packed dirt roads and gothic granite buildings. People ran in a panic, screaming, crying. They fled from red-eyed shadows and terrifying shapes that reached out with sharp claws. On the horizon, a tall, white-marble tower stood tipped with a gem so large and bright, he swore it dwarfed the sun. The blue stone pulsed, each beat reverberating inside his skull until the entire tower crumbled, falling to the ground, engulfed in black flames that consumed the gem.
“…ven?”
The entire world spun out of control. He could not focus his eyes, feeling them roll in his head despite needing to focus on something. The world fell away for a second time, this time to a field of red poppies that stretched as far as the eye could see. He saw a boy standing there, but there was something wrong with him as if he were incomplete. Seeing him made Reven uneasy, especially when the boy looked directly at him. His eyes were pale, lifeless, but seemed to see right through the bard.
“What is wrong?” he heard Serai ask, feeling her cool, gentle hands on his chest and shoulders, dragging him from the field of poppies to the maelstrom on the sea.
“Dunno,” Liam replied. “S’like he’s got tremors or somethin’ without actually havin’ the tremors. Oi!” Liam snapped his fingers in front of Reven’s face, trying to help the bard focus, but it did little good. Reven still could not do much more than groan. Voices screamed inside his skull. Power undulated through his body in waves as tumultuous as the ones outside the tiny ship. He felt as if he were drowning, felt as if his mind might explode.
We are here, Reven… he finally heard. It was a voice that broke through all others, a voice that forced him to draw breath and choke on his own saliva. Serai. We are here.
Chapter Six
Jaysen watched the olven man walk through the Poppy Fields and frowned. He’d just met with Kaleo, reminding the avian boy to stay away from the Sea of Stars. Now this. The man suffered, gripping his head in pain as he stumbled along. It was not the pain that caught Jaysen’s attention, however. Rather, it was the sound. He heard it as clearly as he heard anything else. It was a plea spoken in many voices, many tones all mixing together in a discordant song. It was a broken song, one in desperate need of direction. But, as quickly as the man appeared, he vanished, leaving the fields in silence once again. That didn’t stop Jaysen from staring at the spot where the man had been, blinking curiously.
“Did I just imagine that, Tanis?” he asked. The young chimera lifted her head from the shin-high grass peppered in bright red flowers to regard him. Some things still confused him in the dream world despite his comfort within its boundaries.
No. I saw him too.
He frowned, focused on where the man was then took in a deep, calming breath…
… waking in the heavy darkness in which he existed. He felt the breeze on his face and rolled toward it. The scent of fresh rain on the earth filled his nose.
He could hear the sounds of the night creatures lurking about just outside his bedroom window and took a moment to imagine what they must be hunting for in the dark. Jaysen sighed and sat up slowly. He felt the cool tile beneath his bare feet in stark contrast to the warmth of Tanis’s body. She slept beside his bed, a furnace all unto herself. He felt her move in the dark, shifting until feeling her head against his middle. He grinned, nuzzling her face and rubbing behind her ears. She made a contented noise, resting her head in his lap.
“I need to go to Argento, Tanis,” he said to her.
The Node existed beneath Joricho City in what was now Cartha. At one point, the tywyll olve lived in the intricate cities beneath the whole of Asphondel. There was nothing left of the tywyll anymore. Even their cities had been destroyed, reduced to rubble or used for experiments that created more of the hell beasts that roamed the surface. Joricho Undercity, however, remained mostly intact, if eerily empty. Jaysen went down to its depths often, sitting in the presence of the Node or just wallowing in the blessed silence that echoed all around him when he was there. Much like it was now. He felt the undulating Power of the Node reverberating through the soles of his feet. It was the same resonance he heard inside the olven man’s head. He had to know, had to make that confirmation. If nothing else, he needed to know for Kaleo. He owed his friend that much. His father, after all, was the Node's Vessel.
***
Every sound echoed across the underground structure in which Jaysen stood. From tiny rocks to scuttling creatures, he heard it all. But, beneath all the noise was another sound. A song, almost, that churned with a gentle bubble that reached the surface from time to time. He inclined his head, listening carefully to that song, grinning to himself. The song was the same as in the dream world. There was a new tone, a lilting that replaced the somber bass that was so common of the giant pool of Power Jaysen knew was nearby. He heard the same lilting inside the head of the olven man that walked through the Poppy Fields and grinned to himself. He liked to sit at the edge of the enclosed pool, allowing Tanis, his chimera audeas to guide him carefully around fallen stone and crumbled architecture. At one point, the entire under-city flowed with life, with a rich culture of artisans and skilled workers of the tywyll people. Every now and then, he found things left behind: a bowl, a doll, a basket - - a Node.
“I think he’s happy,” Jaysen said to no one in particular. He felt Tanis move beside him, the giant beast always close at hand. He could not see her - could not see anything - but felt the rough texture of her fur or the smooth feathers of one set of her double wings; the other had rough scales and thin membranous skin between the joints. She was an odd creature, but she was all his. They understood each other.
The sound of footsteps took Jaysen’s attention. He inclined his head over his shoulder toward the sound of each soft footfall and sighed.
“Again at the pool,” Xandrix said, his voice rough and loud enough to echo across the vast underground city.
“If you spent longer than thirty seconds inside that stupid manse, you’d appreciate why I like it here better,” Jaysen replied. He felt the other man’s presence, the natural heat from his body and the smell of him even if the steps came to a stop. The cave was silent once more. Though, to call it a cave would probably be wrong since it was so large, but as Jaysen had no real basis for comparison, cave worked just fine.
“Pass,” Xandrix grumbled. “You’ve been summoned.”
“Pass,” Jaysen smirked, copying the other man’s vernacular just to gall him. Jaysen remembered how much the former soldier fought against what was done to him. Some fought, others begged, and still others just gave up. Xandrix fought - hard. He had managed to kill several of Daemodan’s soldiers and some of the hell beasts that were sent to hunt survivors or clear out the under-city. In
the end, Daemodan won, Corrupting Xandrix right along with a handful of others that survived. Of those, there were four, maybe five left that were not drooling husks. And then, of course, there was Roth who was an entirely different story.
“Daemodan said-”
“I don’t care what Daemodan said, Xan,” Jaysen said. “If you’re here, that means he has another Vessel to play with. I’ve been present for enough Corruptions and those Corruptions make my insides twist up funny. I’ll stay here, thanks.”
Xandrix did not argue. They both knew what was coming. Despite his Corruption, Xandrix was and remained a hunter. Jaysen’s job, his sole purpose was to find the Vessels and their respective Nodes. It was not a difficult task in and of itself, but it was one he was beginning to question of late. It felt wrong to ruin something so beautiful and pristine. Once the Vessel and Node were found, it was Xandrix’s job to track them down, to hunt them like cattle and bring them to slaughter. His presence meant he’d succeeded. Who the poor bastard was didn’t matter, not really, though he’d heard rumor of which ones they currently hunted, the ones Jaysen knew: Chere, River, Hikaru, Anna. There was a new one recently Claimed somewhere to the south as well, but the name was not yet known to Jaysen. The Node kept his secrets and that of his Vessel, opting to scream - loudly - anytime Jaysen attempted communication. He let the Node be; for now. They would all fall, eventually.
Jaysen didn’t have to see to know what the evening held. He could already hear the shouts, the pleas, the strangled cries that ultimately ended in silence and bated breath while everyone waited to see if the Corruption took hold or if the poor soul finally gave in to Azrus’s embrace. They’d waited three days for Roth and now the fool was so beyond repair it was laughable. There was not a shred of sanity left. While the Corruption worked, it was not the desired outcome Daemodan was searching for. Roth was unpredictable, dangerous, insane, and positively the single most annoying creature Jaysen had ever come across. Plus, the damage done to the man’s Node was haunting.
Jaysen knew what that was like, being a Vessel himself, but there had been a mistake when he was Corrupted that spared him and his Node a great deal of anguish. The former Speaker for the Phoenix Empire was not so lucky. Roth was a mess and his Node was worse, spreading plague and blight along the lands where she was located. Jaysen felt it as he did with his own Node and the lands surrounding her but Eris was not as bad off as Sofia.
“Are you talking to it?” Xandrix asked, interrupting Jaysen’s train of thought.
“No,” Jaysen answered. “I can’t. He isn’t mine.” “You talk to the others,” Xandrix pointed out, catching the lie. Jaysen’s lips twisted into a smirk. “No, Eris talks to the others,” Jaysen corrected, offering a partial truth for the Corrupted hunter. “They are still connected even if they’ve been turned into monsters like us.”
Xandrix snorted. A rumble from the pool took their attention, Jaysen inclining his head again toward the pool before doubling over in pain.
“Jaysen!”
The Corruption had begun.
***
Demyan stared out the window at the dark, red-tinged clouds building above Sapphire City. He could see people moving within the city proper like ants crawling around in a panic before a flood. They knew what was coming; they were all warned. They were told to take what they could carry and run, abandon their homes, their villages, their lives.
The mountain villages were already gone. The warning had not reached them in time. Demyan’s uncle, Mikhael, had gone to fight the demons that flowed through the pass between Kormaine and Cartha, to give their people a chance. News of his capture reached Demyan’s ears that morning. Each moment they loitered, was another moment that the demons came ever closer to the city walls. Guards stood at the ready, a battalion of arcanists dispatched to fight off the coming horde. It would not be enough.
“Moy korol.”
Demyan glanced over his shoulder to his vassal. The man was a good fifteen years Demyan’s senior, but was patient with him and kind when others had been quick to judge. Demyan was no king no matter what the man said. He intended on abdicating the throne to his uncle within the week, before things changed. He no longer had that option.
“Shiro, please,” Vassily said. He used the name Demyan was most familiar with, the name of a slave. Shiro's story was convoluted and woven of the same fabric one might weave a fairy tale. His fairy tale was rapidly turning into a horrid nightmare that made him yearn for the simple life of a slave once more. It said something of the state of things that he would wish to be someone’s property rather than a king. He sighed, forcing his thoughts to focus on the immediate moment. Finally, he left the window with one last prayer of hope for his people and joined Vassily at the door.
“Where will they go?” Demyan asked in the Imperial tongue that he knew better than the harsh language of the Kormandi. The elder man regarded Demyan as they walked through the cold stone halls of the Sapphire Tower before answering.
“Damaskha,” Vassily answered, maintaining the same flowing tongue of the kitsune for Demyan’s benefit. “Or Itahl, I suppose. There are rumors that their Great Mother is sending ships to the south where our people are going.”
Demyan looked at his vassal with great skepticism and only just barely managed to not snort. His new bride was a high priestess of Itahl, a union meant to build an alliance with the alchemy-centered nation. They were an odd people, however, with many prejudices. It would be terribly convenient for them to let the demons cleanse Kormaine like they had done to the Phoenix Empire. It was punishment for their sins or something equally trite. The Itahli valued science over magic, claiming magic was for the gods alone and not meant for mortal kind. Any mortal with the capacity to cast was considered a grave sinner. It often made him wonder what they thought of him. His bride met him just around another bend in the hall with a surprisingly large group of people that remained in the tower castle.
Kendall bobbed a quick curtsy when she saw Demyan. It was a practice he was not accustomed to. At least this time he did not flinch when she curtsied or bow in response as it was customary for the kitsune to do. He nodded instead, standing in awkward silence before this woman that was his wife. She was beautiful in her own right, with coiled brown tresses and mocha-colored skin. She never said much, spending much of her time in prayer. They did not communicate well. She did not know the Imperial tongue and her grasp of Kormandi was only passable at best. His was worse and his grasp of the Trade Cant that was used in Itahl was atrocious, which made communication difficult. The times they were together, they simply sat in awkward silence, much like they stood now.
“We are the last,” Baron Karov said in the Trade Cant for the benefit of the Itahli amongst them, breaking the silence. Demyan looked to the older man and nodded. Nadya, Demyan’s aunt, stood beside the baron with five of her own personal guards, all in black leathers with odd masks donning their faces. The eccentricities of the nation Demyan ruled never ceased to amaze him. Behind Kendall and her acolytes were two of her own guards, an alchemist that served as her adviser and another young man that stood out so starkly compared to the rest that Demyan gave him a sympathetic look. Aeron Solvanis of the Phoenix Empire was a guest of Kormaine, an adviser in his own right to Demyan, and the only real friend the very inexperienced king had.
“There are still people in the city,” Demyan said, his words so horribly accented that Aeron winced and shook his head. Aeron was teaching him the Trade Cant, among other things. Demyan was not learning as quickly as they’d hoped.
“They will be gone before nightfall,” the Baron assured. “The shield will hold long enough to give them time. We cannot wait.”
Demyan nodded, allowing the Baron to take the lead. The large group followed the elder man in silence. A roll of thunder overhead momentarily slowed everyone’s steps. Kendall reached for Demyan’s hand, griping it tightly. Her hands were soft and warm while his were not. They were calloused and always cold. He did not stop he
r, however, finding odd comfort in the small gesture.
“The shield?” Aeron asked, catching on to what the Baron said. Nadya looked at him and smirked but no one answered the young tirsai prince’s question.
The Sapphire Shield stemmed from a giant Shard that sat at the peak of the tower proper. It hovered just above the structure with its own Power and radiated a magical shield around the entire city. In times of war, the arcanists of Kormaine could extend that shield outwards to a total of five miles around the city walls.
To Demyan’s knowledge, it had only been used in that capacity once. Shield or no shield, however, there was nothing that would stop the fell magic brewing inside the thunder clouds above or prevent the demons from pouring over the walls.
“We will go south,” the Baron explained as they walked through the stone halls and corridors, descending quickly to the sublevels of the tower. “I have sent scouts to find safe place. We can go out to the country through the catacombs beneath the city. Aisling will meet us out there.”
Demyan nodded, opening his mouth to ask a question when pain lanced through his mind and body. He squeezed Kendall’s hand so hard she cried out, while he dropped to the cold, rough floor, taking his poor wife with him.
“Shiro!” Vassily said, though the poor king could not answer. Something was wrong, every one of the Voices in his head screaming in unison, weeping for what was being done.
Chapter Seven
The field of poppies was dark again. Kaleo was alone among the red flowers for the second time in as many weeks. It was not as easy falling asleep out in the open as it was in one’s own bed. Fionn was warm, but he was not very comfortable. Kaleo let the darkness linger, moving out to the center of the field until the light took over, banishing the darkness to the far corners. He peered around, looking for Jaysen, hoping his friend would be there. He’d come each night after Jaysen’s warning with the same hope, only to have that hope dashed. He needed a teacher, someone to guide him through the Sea of Stars if he expected to find his father. What he’d done was reckless and stupid. If not for Jaysen, Kaleo would not be able to draw breath; he’d have died in that nightmare. As it was, he’d been wounded. The scratch was still an angry red mark at his ankle and worse in the dream, with blackened spider veins and bruising that wrapped around his whole calf and foot. The thought of that dream made the stubborn amatti frown and stare off to the edges of the field with balled fists at his sides.
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