by D N Meinster
Aros jumped out of bed and hurried over to the clothes he’d discarded in the corner of his room. He pulled on the Bellish pajamas and magnetic straps, then slipped on the yellow cloak. Lastly, he slid his blades in place along his back.
The war couldn’t have started already, could it? He’d yet to meet up with Rikki and Doren on the Twilight Islands. They had information to convey to each other and a plan to conceive. Nothing could be put into effect before then.
Unless Neanthal struck first.
Aros rushed downstairs and found his mom sitting alone at the kitchen table. “What’s going on?” he asked her.
“Ratch is tending to his shop,” she replied, taking a sip of morseltea.
“I meant the explosions,” he clarified as another shook the house.
Maureen Asilias stood up and approached her only son. She touched her hand to his cheek as she gazed into his eyes. “How much do you remember your father?”
Aros grimaced at the mention of the subject. This was not the time for reminiscing. Something big was happening outside. He glanced around the kitchen and noticed a clock sitting near the stove. If it was accurate, it was already past noon. But since when did they have a working clock?
“We were a team, me and him. And I knew it was the plague that took him, but I hated him for leaving me. He left me to do all the work. Milking, selling, cooking. You weren’t old enough to help with much. I was angry at him and angry at the Goddess.”
“Mom,” Aros stated with exasperation. He needed to go. He was already late to whatever was going on.
“Okay, okay,” she said, acknowledging her son was in a rush. “But I know if I lose you, it won’t be a meaningless death. It will be for the greatest cause of all. And I won’t be angry. I’ll be proud.” She kissed his forehead and nudged him towards the door.
“Love you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He gave her a warm smile before pulling open the door and stepping outside.
Aros immediately noticed a stampede of chrome men heading in his direction. At first, he had a hard time conceiving that the Bellish creations had found their way to Kytheras. What were they doing outside his house? Were they trying to find him? To fight him?
He grabbed the hilts of his clawblades, but the peacekeepers ran past him, ignoring his presence.
Aros watched them leave and then faced the direction they’d come from. Smoke littered the sky back that way. From what he could tell, it was originating from Castle Tornis.
After taking a deep breath, he took off towards the castle. Whatever had caused the peacekeepers to retreat, he was going to face it. If that meant taking on Neanthal alone, then he would.
As he ran down the street, he only encountered a smattering of chrome men continuing to flee the battle. Aros tried to interact with them, but they refused to communicate.
He kept going until he felt a pair of hands grab onto the back of his cloak. Was a peacekeeper finally going to tell him what was going on? Or was it the enemy?
Whoever the hands belonged to, they pulled him inside the nearest building.
Once they let go, Aros pulled out his blades as he spun to get a look at whoever it was. And his mouth fell open.
He recognized the wooden floorboards and gray stone walls. He’d been in this place before. But he didn’t quite understand. This house was not located in Kytheras.
The obese man that had pulled him inside was shirtless, leaving his oversized arms and rotund torso in plain view. All he had to cover himself was a pair of red trousers and an overgrown head of black hair, as he no longer had a golden M hanging against his chest.
“Pudo?” Aros asked. How had he gotten to Pudo’s home in Faunli when he’d just been in Kytheras? Had he accidently shifted?
“Still wearing it,” Pudo replied, pointing at his former necklace. “Glad to see that.”
“Did you shift me?” Aros asked. “I thought you weren’t a mage.”
“I am not a mage,” he stated. “I am an emissary. The emissary.”
That didn’t exactly answer his question. He stared into the kindly golden eyes of his host. “So you can use magic?”
“You cannot shift without that cloak,” Pudo said. “I cannot shift unless She requires it of me.”
How did he know that his cloak allowed him to shift? Had he been spying on him?
“I don’t have to keep an eye on you to know what you’re up to,” Pudo stated.
Aros recalled that Pudo could basically read his thoughts. “You haven’t changed.”
“But you have.” Pudo beckoned him further inside as he kept speaking. “When you left here last, you were on the brink of a never-ending rage. You were hurt, wounded, and I’m not only referring to that hole in your arm. I feared your rush to leave meant you might never mend. But here you are, with barely a scab left.” He brought them both to a windowless room lit only by a fireplace and containing a single chair. “Was it time that helped you heal? Or Loraya? Perhaps both?”
“Uhh.” Aros finally returned the swords to his back. “Both, I guess.”
“Mmm.” Pudo took the only available seat.
Had Pudo only brought him here to discuss his relationships? Didn’t he realize they were in the middle of a war? “I can’t stay here.”
“You haven’t even asked why I brought you,” Pudo said.
“Then why?” Aros asked, eager to leave.
“Always in a hurry to leave me,” Pudo replied, wagging a finger. “I’d take offense if I wasn’t aware of the reason. I know Neanthal worries you, but he’s abandoned Kytheras for now. You have a day to rest and prepare for what’s coming.”
Aros was slightly reassured, but even a day didn’t seem like much time. There was so much left to do.
“I am glad to find you whole again, Aros, but it was not I that summoned you.”
“But it was,” Aros responded.
“Are you so sure? Take a look at the fireplace.”
Aros gazed at the dark gray fireplace, unable to spot what Pudo was referencing. “I don’t see anythi—”
When he glanced back at the chair, Pudo was no longer sitting there. Instead, it was a woman, but one unlike any Aros had ever seen.
Her skin was completely silver, almost similar to the peacekeepers’, but it was more lively. Her hair was a dark shade of green, reminiscent of Loraya’s, but it seemed to glow. Her lips and nose were perfectly shaped, appearing to be sculpted almost as well as her cheeks and chin. Her fingers were lengthy and narrow, though they lacked nails at their ends. Most of her body was covered in a gray gown that seemed to be floating atop her. It was her eyes that were most impressive, however. They were such a vibrant green as to seem unnatural; like all other greens weren’t actually green but merely a pale imitation.
Aros shuddered as he realized who he was in the presence of. He wanted to speak but found himself unable to even offer a greeting.
“Aros,” She spoke. He knew Her voice, yet he hadn’t really known it at all.
“M-my Goddess,” Aros sputtered. He stared, perhaps impolitely, at Magenine, for none in Ghumai had ever gazed upon Her. Her form had been unknown and unknowable. But he might have once said the same thing about Her voice.
“I believed it time we spoke face-to-face. There is only so much conversation you can have with a whisper.”
Aros opened his mouth but found himself unable to partake in the conversation She desired. He could think of no words to say to Her nor form any other sounds with his voice.
Magenine raised her arm and reached for his cheek. Her touch felt like his own mother’s. It was warm and intimate, seeking to display the pride and affection that any loving parent would.
“You are all my children,” Magenine told him. “I brought humanity to Ghumai just as I have brought life to other planets throughout the cosmos. I created your souls, gave you your purpose, crafted your very destinies. But even I make mistakes.” She removed Her hand from Aros’ face and placed it on Her lap. “Neanthal i
s in this world because of me. I formed the Pit beneath Ghumai. I sent him to it. And though I believed he would never get out, I made sure that if he did, he would not find the Bastion. Instead, he would be stuck in this physical realm. But I underestimated him. I thought he would never find his way back.”
“But…” Aros slapped a hand to his mouth. Questioning the Goddess seemed disrespectful at best.
“I am not here to give you a speech,” She replied. “Ask me whatever you desire.”
“Why are you here?” Aros finally managed to get out.
“Because tomorrow, either you succeed or another war for the Bastion begins.”
“I thought we were already at war.”
“When Neanthal first emerged from the Pit three hundred years ago, I feared all of Ghumai would be lost to the darkness. Yes, there were mages touched with divinity, but I suspected his abilities would be beyond them. I underestimated them too. Not only did they defeat and imprison him, but they nearly destroyed him completely.”
It took Aros a moment to digest Her words. Neanthal could be destroyed? “Why didn’t they do it?”
“They didn’t know. And I did not whisper in their ears that they could. So they followed the example of their goddess and sent him to another plane.”
“But why didn’t you destroy him? And why did you decide to tell me and not them?”
“Darkness sprouts in our worlds like an invader and spreads across it like an infection. Neanthal was the personification of that darkness. If I eradicated him, he wouldn’t return whence he came. He would cease to exist. I pitied him for the love he expressed. And I showed him mercy, for even these stakes do not alter my nature. Instead of eradicating him, I contained him.”
Aros tried to grasp what the Goddess was explaining, but it felt like She was reading him the last page of a book that he had never read. He wanted to pepper Her with more questions, but She went on without acknowledging his confusion.
“My initial feelings were propagated into the mages. I watched as they repeated my mistakes and I let them. I did not tell them what they could do. I merely guided them along the path they chose.”
“Did you know he would escape again?”
“I cannot foresee the actions of darkness. I cannot interfere in the physical realm once the darkness has taken it. I set the rules here, but there are rules set for me.”
Aros’ voice sped up as he tried to get out all his questions. “Aren’t you interfering now? And what rules are you talking about? And who else could set the rules if not you?”
“There is more to all of existence than you could ever understand. All the stars in your sky fall under my influence. But there is more. Places that even I can’t see, where other deities might wield their power. And though we govern separately, we are bound by certain rules. They cannot be broken. They cannot be undone.” Magenine raised a finger. “However, there are loopholes.”
Aros recalled King Halstrom once speaking of loopholes. “Like rivers that connect a world that is supposed to be completely separated.”
The corners of Magenine’s mouth rose and the entire room appeared to brighten.
For a moment, Aros felt like he was the most intelligent person in the entire world. It was the only time he had ever felt that way.
“Precisely. I am not interfering because I am not actually here.” She touched her chest. “This is actually Pudo.” She pointed at his head. “That voice you heard was stray thoughts in your own head.”
“If you can’t take him on directly here, why can you take him on directly in the Bastion?”
“The Bastion is my spiritual realm. The physical and the spiritual are interconnected, but the rules are different.”
“Why?”
Magenine did not provide an immediate answer, as she instead considered how much to tell him. “They were established because of the darkness. The darkness has a master, you see, and he was more interested in the physical than the spiritual.”
“Neanthal has a master?”
“He would say otherwise. But yes. All of his efforts are on behalf of another, even if he does not realize it.”
“Who?” Aros asked, worried that they would have an even more powerful creature to take on after Neanthal.
“He is not your concern,” Magenine replied. “The closest you will ever get to him is through Neanthal. Defeating him must be your only priority.”
So much of what the Goddess spoke to him was incomprehensible. He wouldn’t be able to remember it much less repeat it. But defeating Neanthal? That he understood.
“How do we do it?” he asked.
“Together,” Magenine said. “Tell your friends that Neanthal can be destroyed. Do not try to send him to another plane. Do not show him mercy. Do not repeat my mistakes.”
Aros rubbed the back of his neck. “I was kinda hoping for better instructions.” He tapped on the hilt of his clawblade. “I don’t know how good this thing will be.”
“I’m sure a mage can improve it for you.” She winked at him before getting to Her feet.
Aros had to bend his neck all the way just to look at her face. She was so tall that the top of Her head nearly grazed the ceiling.
Magenine stared fondly down at Aros. “I have faith in you. Leidess has faith in you. Destroying the Corruption saves not only your world but the Bastion as well.”
“What happens if we fail?”
Her reply was simple. “Don’t.”
Aros could tell Magenine was getting ready to leave. But there was so much left he had to ask Her. What was most important? Asking about the plague? Questions that his friends might have wanted answers to?
He raced through the mysteries in his mind, trying to figure which answers he would value most. The one question that stuck out regarded a more recent issue.
“Why didn’t you tell me Neanthal had escaped?”
Magenine sat back in the armchair, appearing to shrink as She did. “I was afraid that you would not return to Kytheras if I did. And I needed you to return.”
“We would’ve gone back,” Aros assured her. “We just would’ve…prepared more.”
The Goddess nodded.
“One Key. Why only one to release him?”
“Amelia was the most powerful mage ever born on Ghumai. But the limits of a mage and the limits of a self-professed demigod are vastly different. To be fair, she didn’t know what she was dealing with, which is why she believed him indestructible.”
“And you didn’t tell her different.”
“I thought her plan would work. And it did, for a while. I even communicated with you in an attempt to maintain it. We were close.”
“If Rikki had managed to hold onto that Key…”
“Then the next time a Thalian managed to obtain one, there might not have been anyone around to intervene.”
It sure felt like Rikki was to blame for their current set of circumstances.
“Do not blame your friend,” Magenine instructed. “Her faults are my own. If there is anyone responsible, it is me. You should be used to blaming me.”
Aros wasn’t sure he would blame the Goddess for that any more than he would blame himself for Leidess’ demise.
He thought back to when Leidess appeared in Faunli. “You sent Leidess to see me after she died. Isn’t that intervening?”
“A waking dream. Hardly intervention.”
There certainly appeared to be a lot of loopholes in whatever rules the Goddess had to follow.
“Not enough,” Magenine said, responding to his thoughts.
“You’d fight him here if you could?”
“I’d lead you all into battle,” She replied. “But I must leave that to you.”
“I won’t let you down,” he said, bowing. As he straightened back up, another question entered his mind; one that Loraya probably would have asked. “What happened to those that fell into Oblivion?”
“The Between Worlds,” Magenine whispered. “The Great Parting exposed that whi
ch you are not supposed to see. The emptiness that belies the creation of the universe. It is the first layer of the physical realm. Rikki has traveled to such a place. You yourself saw it behind the Door. And you all saw it in Oblivion. But the plane Amelia and Hatswick created was meant to be occupied. The Oblivion between your kingdoms was not. But those that fell in, I caught them. They reside in the Bastion.”
“So Loraya will see her family again?”
“And you shall see yours. And Doren, his. And Rikki, hers. And I will see all of you in due time.”
“Magenine?” Aros had one last question before She left.
“Yes?”
“Will you point me true?”
Magenine stood up once again and placed both her hands on Aros’ shoulders. “Always.”
Chapter Thirty
Inessential
The Twileans were scrambling. Volunteers carried or dragged their wooden canoes to the water’s edge. Azzer took control of the largest boats and guided them into the ocean with his magic, an act that was received gratefully by the men that struggled to take them on their shoulders. M’dalla also assisted in preparations, tugging along those crafts that were getting stuck in the sandbanks.
M’hadder skimped along the shore, handing out weapons from a satchel he hauled behind him. Eloise joined in his task, running out into the Unending Seas to provide swords and arrows to those who had forgotten them in their rush.
Doren watched it all unfold with the Mayor and Deputy Mayor at his side. He’d been stunned into inaction; unable to do more than look from Castle Tornis back to the beaches.
He could’ve shifted there immediately but couldn’t bring himself to go alone. What would he find in Kytheras? Neanthal on the verge of victory? At least if he went with the last Roamers and a small contingent of Twileans, they might stand a chance of halting his progress.
The battle was premature, which had to mean Rikki or Aros had been caught before they were ready. They hadn’t had time to plan or strategize. Neither of them had even had a chance to visit Tunsev Manor. Whatever was occurring, it was almost certainly at Neanthal’s behest.
“What you see is all we have to offer,” Mayor Kellig spoke. “We would’ve had many times that before the urchins invaded.”