by Wight, Will
If you hadn’t made so many stupid decisions, the Violet Light said, perhaps you could have fought this way in truth, and not just in your mind.
Simon finally landed a good blow, knocking Zakareth’s shield aside and slashing across his breastplate with the tip of his blade.
While the Ragnarus Incarnation staggered backwards, Alin called Gold.
The hammer of Gold Light blasted King Zakareth off the roof, sending him flying down and toward the original building, where a hastily torn Elysian Gate waited.
“Thanks,” Simon said, panting.
“You didn’t do too bad yourself,” Alin said. “You know, for someone who’s not a real Traveler.”
Simon stared at him from behind the mask for a second before he snorted a laugh. “You know, I—”
Something caught his attention, as if he was listening to someone else talk, and then his whole body tensed. He leaped off the roof after Zakareth, his blade held in both hands.
Obviously he had thought of something that Alin hadn’t noticed with his Silver Light, so Alin flew after him on wings of Orange Light.
Leah was there, crouched at the edge of the Elysian Gate with her hands raised, as if she were about to summon some power. Her father had one leg raised to enter the portal himself, shield in one hand and spear in the other. His gold-and-ruby-patterned face caught the light. Simon landed, his knees bent, blade drawn back for a strike, his mask turned up toward Zakareth.
As had happened once before, in Malachi’s mansion, the moment froze.
Alin stepped away from his own body, turning to look at himself. His rainbow eyes had frozen with orange prominent, so the slices of orange glowed most brightly. His hair had turned from blond to something that looked like strands of actual gold—he wondered for a second if the hair on his head had turned to metal, or if it was just his appearance that had changed. His armor was practically in ruins again, and after all the effort he’d gone through to have it repaired the first time.
But it was his expression that bothered him the most. He stared forward, looking completely blank. He showed less emotion than a statue, as if nothing had ever happened that he cared about, and nothing ever would.
In his featureless confidence, he looked just like King Zakareth.
Rhalia walked up beside him, casually strolling along, glancing into everyone’s eyes one at a time as if to memorize the scene.
“How did you do this?” he asked.
“Oh, you should know that by now,” she said. “And now your brain won’t sizzle quite so fast, so we can take our time.”
When Alin bothered to think about it, with all the knowledge of Elysia, it seemed obvious. “It’s a Silver artifact, combined with Red Light to enhance the mind.”
Rhalia clapped three times. “You win the prize! My body’s over there.” She motioned to a building across the street, where her white-robed form fought next to her red-clad sister. “So let’s see if the wisdom of the Silver Light is all it’s supposed to be. What do I have to tell you?”
“Something about the King,” Alin said. “Does he have a weapon I don’t know about?”
She shrugged. “Probably. But no, that’s not why I’m here.”
Rhalia hopped over to Simon and pointed at his collar.
To Alin’s surprise, Simon was still moving. Everything else looked perfectly still, but Simon actually crept forward, his legs springing up, his sword drifting around in a strike that would take days to land.
“How is he not frozen?” Alin asked.
“No one’s frozen,” Rhalia corrected. “We’re experiencing time very, very quickly…and separate from our bodies, of course. The fact that we can perceive him move at all is a reflection of how fast he’s managed to go. But that’s not what I’m here to point out.”
She gestured under his cloak again, and Alin leaned in for a closer look.
Those black marks, the chains that crawled up Simon’s arms, had reached all the way around his neck.
The final link was gray, like the fuzzy edge of a shadow, but when it turned black, the chain would have covered Simon’s body completely.
“What does that mean?” Alin asked, quietly.
She shook her head. “I’m not familiar with Valinhall, but even I can sense it. He’s too far in debt to his Territory. When that chain is completed, he will either Incarnate or die.”
Simon had warned him about this, about what would happen if he wore the mask. The chain must be his time limit.
“There was another Valinhall Incarnation only days ago,” Alin said. “He told us.”
“Then, when this chain is completed, Simon will die.” Rhalia waved a hand. “Or he may fuse with his Territory or the current Incarnation. In those cases, he will wish for death.”
That would be a tragedy, the Rose Light whispered. Simon has never tried to do anything but good.
You owe him, the Orange Light said.
There’s nothing you can do about it, the Silver pointed out.
You don’t need to worry about him, the Gold said proudly. He’s a warrior, dying in battle. He’s lived a full life, short though it was. Everyone should be as lucky as he, dying like this.
“He has lived a good life,” Alin said out loud. “He will die with honor.”
Rhalia swept a strand of hair out of her golden eyes. Alin knew they weren’t really in their bodies, but it all sure looked real.
“Wouldn’t it be better if he could live with honor, instead?” Rhalia asked.
She knows a way, the Violet Light said.
“What do you want me to do?”
Rhalia turned and looked at the Elysian Gate. “There is one door you have yet to open.”
The White District. Whenever he asked Rhalia for advice, it always came down to the White.
“…in the City,” he said.
“Yes. The White Light can only be used on another’s behalf. It can empower Simon with all the might of Elysia, giving him the strength he needs to win this battle. But it would mean staying here, with me.”
You have to save him, if you can, the Blue Light said.
Going through that Gate would be like dying, the Red argued. Worse: it would be like giving up!
Alin took a moment to think of the problem from every angle. “I wish I could go,” he said at last, “but I can’t. I would be trapped there, and the people need an Elysian Traveler to lead the way into the light. It would be selfish of me to save this one man and deprive the world of the City of Light.” He wanted to save Simon, but it wasn’t practical.
He had to admit a certain measure of relief, though. The thought of staying trapped in one Territory forever chilled him; he almost thought dying in battle would be the better fate.
“That’s…not exactly right.” Rhalia smiled a little. It was the kind of smile that said, I have a surprise, and I’m not sure you’re going to like it.
Then she walked around the King, standing in front of the Elysian Gate. She stood, waiting expectantly, clearly indicating that he should follow.
With an unexplainable sense of dread, Alin walked after her. And he looked into Elysia.
The field of grass and flowers outside the walls was all but torn up. Four people stood engaged against the towering Ornheim Incarnation and a small army of golems. One was the blond girl, Andra, her black-spotted sword clenched in both hands. She had driven her sword through a golem’s neck joint, popping its head off. The gem-spotted boulder still hung in the air, wearing a comical expression of surprise.
The second person was also a Valinhall Traveler, but much older. Kathrin was in the middle of swinging a giant mirror-bright hammer at Ornheim’s stone kneecap. A mask of blood covered her forehead, and her snarl made her look as though she wished she could bite the Incarnation in half.
The other two people were his sisters.
Ilana, five years older than he was, stood ten paces away with a bow in both hands. She had hardly touched a bow in years, but this one was made of some golden
wood, and she was fitting a gleaming arrow to the string. One small, dog-shaped golem had been impaled through its gemstone eye by a shining arrow that matched the one Ilana held in her bow.
That brought him to his little sister, Shai. She had the same bored expression she always wore when she was intensely interested in something.
And she was wielding a strip of Violet Light in each hand, like a pair of whips. Piles of rubble sat at the end of the light, as though she had reduced a group of golems to inanimate gravel.
“She’s…alive,” Alin said, his voice unsteady.
Practically glowing with pride, Rhalia drifted over to watch his sister. “Back in Myria, when you opened the Gates to Elysia, I was able to bring her inside. She needed a lot of attention in the Rose District, but I kept her in the City. Safe from Naraka, and from you.”
Indignant anger welled up in him for a moment—I would never hurt her! She’s my sister!—before he crushed the feeling down. All things considered, Rhalia had made the right call.
“Thank you,” Alin said. “You probably saved her life.” Another thought occurred to him, and he almost dared to hope. “What about Tamara? Did you save her?” He had seen his oldest sister die, but if Rhalia had managed to heal Shai…
Rhalia shook her head, but she said nothing else.
Alin’s hopes fell, but Green patience saved him from grieving anew. Instead, he focused on the sister in front of him, the family that had been miraculously restored from death. “Is she a Traveler?”
“It wasn’t uncommon, back in my time, for there to be two natural Elysian Travelers from the same family.” Rhalia kept her words quiet, studying Alin as if to gauge his reaction.
“What about the prophecy?” he asked.
Rhalia sighed. “That was after my time, but I can make a good guess. The fact that there was a prophecy at all suggests that Avernus was involved. Strigaia-tribe owls can see the future, but only in vague, specific pieces. I have no doubt that you were the boy some Grandmaster Avernus once predicted would free the Incarnations. And so you did. You even killed King Zakareth, which may or may not have been part of the same prediction.”
But that doesn’t mean those things were good, the Silver Light pointed out. Nor does it mean you’re the only one.
“Call Violet,” Rhalia suggested. “Tell me the truth. What does this make you feel?”
“Relieved, that my sisters are alive,” Alin said, through a haze of Violet honesty. “Confused. And…disappointed, because I thought I was the only one. I wanted to be the hero.”
Rhalia looked back at Simon, who was still inching forward through the frozen moment. “You can be.”
***
You’re out of time, Caela said.
Simon slammed Mithra into King Zakareth’s back, knocking him through the gold-edged Gate and into the City of Light.
I know, Simon sent.
Something else blasted past him into the portal, something orange and gold and glowing, but he didn’t get a good look. All his attention was focused on his enemy, as he threw himself through the Gate and after the King. There was even a battle going on around him—he vaguely noticed Kathrin fighting a huge, white golem—but he ignored it.
If he was about to die, he wanted to do it while taking Zakareth’s head from his shoulders.
I wanted to tell you… He hesitated. He’d never been good at saying the right thing, but he had to try. When would he get another chance? Of all the swords I could have gotten, I’m glad it was Azura.
So were we, Caela whispered. It was hard to tell, with her shifting, windy voice, but she sounded on the verge of tears. You were so much better than Kai.
***
Alin hurtled through the streets of the City of Light, blasting past shops and homes and towers. In seconds, he reached the heart of the city.
Please don’t be too late, he said to himself. He would have hated to do all this for nothing. Please don’t be too late, not too late…
Relax, the Green Light told him.
He spun around, surrounded by colored doors. He saw the violet, the red, the orange…and there. So small and shabby that it looked like it belonged on a garden gate.
The White Door.
He twisted the handle and pulled, flooding the room with White Light. For a moment, he panicked: this hadn’t happened when he opened any of the other doors! The power washed his mind clean, swallowing him whole.
For what felt like an eternity, he drifted on an endless sea of white. All his concerns melted away, and for the first time since he gave up his humanity, Alin finally relaxed.
After a time, the White Light asked him a question. What do you want me to do?
From deep within him, the other virtues of Elysia responded.
Defeat the enemy, the Gold Light said.
Protect our allies, said the Orange.
Give us peace, said the Green.
Finish the battle, said the Red.
Help us save the day, said the Violet.
The White Light was quiet for a long time, though Alin himself floated in complete peace.
Those are all wonderful goals, the White Light said gently, but it’s not about you.
And everything was silent.
Finally, the Gold Light spoke up. It sounded almost reluctant. Simon has proven his valor, it said.
He needs help, said the rose.
I’d like to have your power myself… the Violet began.
…but you should give it to him instead, the Blue finished.
Help Simon, said the Silver Light. Give him whatever he needs.
And, floating on White Light, Alin agreed.
That, I can do. The White flowed out of him, draining his strength, carrying it away…to Simon.
***
Helgard was coming after her, but Leah sealed the Incarnation’s legs in a quick layer of crystal before tumbling through the Gate.
It was all chaos and madness inside. The Ornheim Incarnation had summoned a bunch of golems to fight Kathrin and Andra and what looked like Alin’s sisters, one of whom was laying everything around her to waste with a couple of glowing violet whips.
Setting aside her shock at seeing the two sisters both alive and in Elysia, Leah stared at the most horrifying thing she could see.
The huge, dark chain stretching away from Simon’s neck, leading into the distance.
To her Eye of Ages, each link in the chain was as wide around as a wagon, binding Simon closer and closer to his Territory. That chain was almost complete, and she knew with instinctive certainty that as soon as it snapped shut, terrible things would happen. Certainly terrible for Simon, and possibly for all of them.
He was facing her father, so Leah summoned the Lightning Spear. To her shock, it came spinning through the air toward her—King Zakareth must have been even more surprised by Simon than she was.
She snatched the Spear out of the air, preparing to throw…
…and then the chain turned white.
Not just the spectral chain that she saw through her crimson eye, either. All the black chains on Simon’s skin glowed a pure, bright white, and white light blazed from the eye sockets of his mask. Was he Incarnating?
The dark chain stretching out from his neck dispersed and blew away like the memory of smoke. Meanwhile, Simon glowed white.
Leah heard a cry, and she looked down to see the doll in the blue dress and bonnet sitting on the grass next to her. Caela.
What’s happening? the doll asked, in her mind. We thought he was going to die, so he left me here. What’s going on? Did he call too much?
“I don’t know,” Leah said, studying the scene through her Eye. “I don’t see the chains of Valinhall on him anymore. Wherever he’s calling that power from, it’s not the House.”
As she spoke, something faded into existence behind him. She could barely see it with her Eye of Ages, but it was becoming clearer every second: a winged sword, point-down, on a field of white.
Elysia.
***
If this was how death or Incarnation felt, Simon liked it.
Before, he’d felt as though the powers of Valinhall were flowing through him with the strength of a river. Now, it felt like a placid ocean. He could draw as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, and it would never run dry.
He never wanted the feeling to go away.
With Mithra’s dull edge, he knocked the Lightning Spear out of Zakareth’s hand. Immediately it spun away, hopefully over to Leah. The King struck out with his shield, intending to knock Simon backwards, but he caught the rim of the shield in one hand and tore it away, tossing it to the grass.
Andra shouted behind him, and it occurred to him that he should be back there.
His body moved as soon as he had the thought, and he was standing in front of Andra and Kathrin. They had already knocked the Ornheim Incarnation over onto his back, but he was still flailing around with a rocky hammer.
Simon brought Mithra forward, idly noting as he did so that the line of gold in her center had turned a bright, vivid white. He slid the Dragon’s Fang in and out of Ornheim’s head, as simply as slipping it into a pool of water.
The Incarnation fell apart.
Then Simon was moving again, over to Helgard, who still stood in the border of Elysia and the outside world. He struck at her, but his blow was turned by a staff of black ice. His blade sent a chip spinning off into the distance, and he attacked even faster than the bar could react, slashing at Helgard from the other side.
Then a second shaft of dark ice flew out of nowhere, blocking his other strike.
The two bars worked in unison, spinning with impossible speed and turning his every attack. No matter how fast he moved, it didn’t matter; there was always one in the way. Helgard stood with both her blue-skinned hands out, her frozen eyes narrowed in concentration as she bent all her power to warding him off.
A red blade emerged from her stomach.
The two bars of ice quivered in the air for a moment, then fell to the ground. Helgard put two fingers to the blood on her stomach, then raised the fingers to her eyes.