Tenel shuffled. “I don’t understand our current tactical situation. The city watch has nearly five thousand men at its disposal, and we could easily reinforce them with thousands more within a few days’ notice if we wished, especially given the rate we have been amassing soldiers along the eastern border. But yet despite our numbers, Sovereign Verrator has refused to bolster his forces. It makes no sense—a group of rebels without channelers shouldn’t pose a threat to our forces in the slightest.”
Damir’s green eyes seemed to flicker before she glanced up. “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple,” she said gravely. “There is more you need to be aware of, Admiral. Our standing forces in Lyebel have suffered serious losses on many fronts. The rebels have adapted a variety of effective tactics against us.”
“They’re well-led,” Tenel admitted. “There’s no disputing that. They’ve shattered the watch morale over the months, which is why I figured a serious military action—”
“Those aren’t the tactics I’m referring to,” Damir said. “The rebels have been extensively utilizing demons.”
Tenel felt his jaw drop. “Demons?” he rasped. He hadn’t read anything about a new warlock cult in the reports…but if the rebels had been using demons, their sudden rash of victories made a whole lot more sense. “They have no Bound of their own, so they have resorted to using warlocks.”
“Beasts are more dangerous when cornered. After the massacre at Tibel, the rebels have grown desperate. They know they are fighting a losing battle, and they know that if they suffer another defeat, Galvia will have fallen for good.”
Tenel nodded as he mulled over the ramifications. “If word about this leaked out, the citizens would turn against them,” he said. “So would the Solarians.”
“Yes,” Damir said. “There are rumors on the ground, naturally, particularly within the city watch. They claim that some of the lower-ranking officers have been possessed and turned against us. Some districts have been devastated by paranoia.”
“So why haven’t we tried to make it public? Fear of embarrassment?”
“Not exactly. There’s another layer to this: even with demons at their disposal, we could still crush the rebels whenever we wanted, just as you indicated. We have plenty of foot soldiers and Imperators in the region.”
“And Sovereign Verrator has done nothing,” Tenel whispered. “Why?”
“Verrator has asked the High Sovereign for additional forces several times,” Damir said, “but His Supreme Eminence has refused the requests.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
The Sovereign smiled. It was a dark and cold thing, and Tenel had to repress a shiver. “Portions of the Resistance are essential to the coup in Solaria,” she said. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you any more than that, not yet.”
“I see,” Tenel whispered. “And I presume Sovereign Verrator also knows nothing of this?”
“That is correct.”
Tenel nodded solemnly. As a military man who had worked himself through the ranks, he understood the necessity of following orders without knowing all the details of a situation. But Damir had asked him here specifically for his input, and now she was leaving him in the proverbial dark. It didn’t make any sense.
“For now, I have other news that needs your attention,” Damir told him, handing him another scroll. “The Alliance Council has dispatched scouts into Lyebel to try and evaluate the situation. They should be arriving at almost the same time as Moore and his associates.”
“Not just scouts,” Tenel whispered as he read the document. “Knights of the Last Dawn…”
“Yes,” the Sovereign confirmed. “Two paladins, including Highlord Dracian himself.”
Tenel swore under his breath. Solarian scouts were one thing, but the paladins of the Last Dawn were among the most deadly and resilient warriors in the entire world. They weren’t officially a part of the Alliance, but they always came to the Solarians’ aid whenever their king waggled his finger.
“If we’re not careful, they could get their hands on Moore’s divine spark,” Tenel said gravely.
“Yes. It is absolutely vital that we acquire the spark before the knights can use it or remove it from Lyebel.”
“We’ll need to intercept them before they reach the rebels, otherwise it will take a sizeable force to deal with them. A few hundred rebels, two paladins, and Moore’s allies…”
“Fortunately, we have a solution to that particular problem,” Damir said. “The Zarul has a new weapon at its disposal, and I plan to deploy it against the knights and Moore’s druid companion.”
Tenel blinked in surprise. “What type of weapon would that be?”
“It’s something you will need to see for yourself. But don’t worry: I will give you all the details soon. For now, I would like you to look over everything we have on the Lyebel docks and the Resistance. We need to narrow down potential locations for their base of operations.”
“As you wish, of course.” He frowned as a thought belatedly occurred to him. “If I’m not mistaken, paladins have the ability to detect demons from a distance—what if they discover that the rebels are harboring warlocks?”
“The insurrection would crumble as the Alliance and the Galvian public turned against them,” Damir said gravely. “Normally, we would be pleased by that outcome…but as I said, for now we need the Resistance to be alive and well.”
“Then we need to deal with the paladins swiftly,” Tenel commented. “Before they even have a chance to get deep into the city.”
“And we will,” Damir promised. “You are dismissed, Admiral. I will speak with you later.”
“Of course, Your Eminence.”
Tenel bowed and left the room. From the first moment he had entered the Zarul’s headquarters, he had known he would be surrounded in a thousand schemes and stratagems...but this was even more convoluted than he ever would have anticipated. Demons in Lyebel? The High Sovereign intentionally leaving his own troops to die at the hands of Galvian insurgents? Relying upon Solarian defectors to stage a massive coup?
It was almost too much to deal with, and he was having a hard enough time sleeping as it was. Perhaps he should write another letter to his wife. Thinking about Chalandra and his children almost always made him feel better…at least until he started dwelling on the fact that he wouldn’t see them again for months, possibly even years.
Wincing, Tenel swallowed the lump in his throat and strode off towards his quarters.
***
It was midnight by the time Darius had freed himself from the persistent tether that was bureaucracy. He was tired but had no desire to sleep. Elade was going to leave tomorrow, and at this point he still hadn’t been able to speak to her alone. Normally, it would have been rather cruel of him to impose a midnight visit on someone scheduled to be up before dawn, but he knew from experience that vaeyn hardly slept. At Serogar, Elade had rarely needed more than a few hours of rest each night.
And so he made his way up to the second floor of the palace where the king housed foreign dignitaries, wealthy merchants, and other people of import who happened to be visiting the capital. The guards and servants knew who he was, obviously, and no one blinked an eye when he asked for Elade’s room and then maneuvered through the dimly-lit halls. The glowlamps were meant to simulate real candlelight, and the thickly carpeted flooring absorbed any sound from his boots. He stopped before her room, took a quick moment to check his breath and preen himself, and then knocked softly.
The door cracked open almost immediately, and a pair of voluminous blue orbs were there to greet him. “Hello, General.”
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Darius said, smiling. “I was just hoping we could share a quick drink before you left for Lyebel.”
Even in the darkness he could see her cock a white eyebrow. “All right.”
She opened the door and gestured for him to come in. A moment later a glowlamp in the corner of the room lit up softly, casting a pale light a
cross the suite. It was as large and spacious, with plush furniture and expensive silks worthy of modern nobility. The balcony window across from him was open, and an empty wine glass was sitting on the ledge.
“I enjoy the stillness of the nighttime air here,” she said to his unspoken thought as she slipped across the room and plucked up the glass.
His eyes fixed on her as she turned away. She wore a long, shimmering blue nightgown that matched her eyes perfectly, and her long white hair flowed freely down her back. The gown was cut low enough that he could see the iridescent glyph-like tattoos tracing their way from her right hand up her arm and to her upper back. Her left arm, he also noticed, had no markings, and he wondered if it had any significance.
Elade stepped back inside and gestured to a nearby chair. “Sit, let me get you a glass.”
“Thank you,” he said, sinking into the closest chair. “Spare me the rare vintage—I can’t tell the difference anyway.”
“It’s not wine,” she told him, smiling faintly. “It’s some type of brandy from the east.”
“Brandy was wine once,” he pointed out. “At least I think it was. Krystia is the expert on such things.”
He really should have been with Krystia right now given that he would be leaving in the morning as well. But for some reason he was here with Elade instead.
No, it really wasn’t a mystery. He was here because he hadn’t seen Elade in two years, and from the moment she’d landed he had been aching to get her alone. It was completely irrational, of course; he could be upstairs right now making love to a beautiful woman who loved him. But instead he was sitting here acting like a crush-addled teenager hoping to bed his date to the summer’s eve dance. What did he really think was going to happen here? They barely knew each other.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about Torsian drinks, either,” Elade said as she handed him a glass. “I’ve only been here a few times.”
“A problem you should definitely work to correct,” he replied, smiling. “Knights of the Last Dawn are always welcome here.”
“Knights, yes,” she said. “Vaeyn…we’ll see.”
Darius winced. “Hopefully no one has been rude to you. If so I can—”
“It’s fine,” she assured him, waving her free hand. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not so delicate as to be offended by a few mystified stares.” She dropped into her own chair and crossed her long legs. “Now, what’s on your mind?”
If only you knew, he thought dryly. “I just wanted to catch up, really,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“I realized earlier that I actually know almost nothing about you or your people,” he said. “I thought maybe we could correct that.”
She smiled. “You know more than most here, I’m sure.”
“Maybe, but at Serogar all we ever really talked about was business—for good reason, of course. But everyone wondered why a vaeyn was trying to become a Knight of the Last Dawn, and I never really had the chance to ask.”
“Plenty of people had the chance. I got the impression most didn’t want to.”
“Well, I did,” Darius told her. “And I still do. Why not tell me a bit?”
She grunted, but her smile widened. “Because it’s late, and you’re asking for a long story.”
“Well, I’m not leaving until I learn something,” he told her, leaning back in his chair. “So, your choice.”
Elade studied him curiously, her face unreadable. “All right. Ask me something, then.”
He took another sip to buy himself some time. “What was it like growing up in your homeland? Solarian children are taught very little about Calhara and virtually nothing about your people’s homeland.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, vaeyn children don’t learn much about human societies, either. Before Tevek told me otherwise, I thought Crell and Solaria were essentially the same.”
Darius’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“We were taught that they were both violent empires wasting precious resources in a pointless battle for supremacy over Torsia.”
“That’s…one perspective, I suppose,” he murmured. “I hope you don’t think that anymore.”
She smiled. “Not quite.”
“Well, when Tevek told me he was bringing a vaeyn squire with him at Serogar, I half-expected you to have horns and glowing red eyes. We’re taught that your people worship demons.”
Her smile unexpectedly faded. “Nearly every place I’ve traveled with Tevek believes the same thing, even in Calhara. The Taurosians call us Culat Muath; to the Rivani it’s Sek’el. They all mean essentially the same thing: demon spawn.”
“Solarians have similar phrases,” Darius admitted.
“I know. I’m pretty sure I heard them all at Serogar.” She slowly shook her head. “I’ve never understood how such a perverse misunderstanding has spread so far. Our entire culture—our entire society—is dedicated to battling the demon hordes of Zereloth. It has been our driving purpose since the end of the Godswar when the Rebirth first began…and I’m not certain it will ever change.”
“Zereloth…” he mused, searching his memory. “Tevek mentioned the name. He said it was an entire nation filled with demons.”
“It’s not really a nation,” Elade corrected. “It’s a massive underground empire of demons, slaves, and possessed humans. The death of Krosis during the Godswar tore open countless gateways between Obsidan and the Void, and for almost two thousand years we have battled to close them.” She finished her glass and set it down. “The vaeyn bleed and die to keep the demonic hordes contained, but on the surface humans are convinced we worship them. It’s…troubling.”
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Darius told her. “Honestly I’m a little appalled by my own ignorance.”
“You should be.”
An awkward silence settled across the room, and Darius quickly took another sip of his drink. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come here after all. And he definitely shouldn’t have broached this particular topic…
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean that,” Elade said with a sigh. “Here you are being sweet and curious, and I snap at you. It’s just….frustrating to be so thoroughly misunderstood.”
“It’s all right,” he replied, offering her his warmest smile. “Like I said, I wish I knew more. I wish all Solarians knew more.”
“In my experience, Solaians take much for granted. Your conflict with the Crell is real and often brutal, but it’s not the same. You sprinkle decades of peace with war, but the war against the demons never stops. They’re too numerous and too powerful for us to launch a real invasion, and we’re too entrenched for them to break through. But both sides try anyway.” She grunted. “And both sides keep searching for a weapon that will finally shift the balance.”
“You’re doing the world a favor, and they all spit on you,” Darius said, shaking his head. He really was appalled at his own ignorance. He liked to consider himself an educated, well-read man…but clearly he wasn’t educated or well-read enough. “I can only imagine that makes you resentful.”
“Some vaeyn are resentful, but others go far beyond that,” Elade said, folding her hands in her lap. “Of course, we’re far from perfect. We have our own myths about human cultures and behavior. Very few of my people know the difference between a Crell or an Asgadian. We like to tell ourselves that we are a unified people who don’t fight amongst each other as your people do.”
“You have the elysians,” Darius pointed out.
“Yes, we do,” she murmured. “History tells us that when the Rebirth began, our people were split by a moral choice: the faeyn wanted to make the world whole again, while the vaeyn believed the Godswar wasn’t over until all the demons it spawned were driven back into the Void.”
“And so the elysians began to worship Anvira, and your people did not.”
Elade nodded. “Elysians…it’s amusing that humans adopted that name. We were
all considered ‘elysians’ once. It means ‘those with immortal blood.’” She waved a hand. “In any event, we do not war with our cousins, but that doesn’t mean we agree with them. We consider them too idealistic for believing the world can be made whole again before evil is destroyed. And they consider us too cynical for refusing to end the war.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think your people seem more reasonable,” Darius told her. “I mean, if there really are demons pouring into the world, someone has to stop them.”
“Yes,” she whispered, her eyes losing their focus for a long moment. “Vaeyn society is built on pragmatic principles. Fighting the demons is the purpose of our existence. We eschew many of the things you would consider normal parts of society—property, trade, even family at times. Vaeyn don’t aspire to own land or things; our dream isn’t to flaunt wealth to our peers with fancy clothing or large houses.” She paused and bit her lip. “That sounded especially bitter, didn’t it?”
“Only a little,” he assured her. “But that’s fine; keep going.”
“Life in Maz’Belar is just…different than Solaria. And there are many things about your people I still have trouble understanding.”
“That’s hardly surprising. I don’t understand half the people I work with.”
Elade chuckled softly. “Our children are taught by the community to fight, or if they can’t do that to serve in another way. Everyone has skills and abilities that can be useful.”
“You must have those who want to leave. What happens to them?”
“It’s not an easy process. Most end up facing permanent exile. If a vaeyn is unwilling to provide for the community that spent resources raising her, she is considered an exile and banished to the surface.”
Darius reached out and poured himself another glass. “So you don’t have a noble class or social ranks?”
“Not as you do, no. Individuals are assigned professions based on their natural aptitude. I was trained to be one of the Matriarch’s shadow knights from when I was a little girl. It wasn’t a matter of birthright or status; I simply possessed the aptitude. Twenty years later, I finally found myself on the front lines.”
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