by Phil Tucker
Tharok pushed his way through the crowd, his expression forbidding. He stood over her, glaring down at her body, and then looked over to Maur and spoke in kragh. She nodded, and then he turned to Ramswold.
“She was of my clan.”
Iskra had not expected to hear such emotion from a kragh.
“She has earned the greatest honors,” Tharok said. “She is a hero of the kragh. Dragon rider. Liberator. She deserved better.”
Nobody spoke.
“There are some amongst you humans who might have claim to her. Her brother lies dying on those rocks. Some of you might have been her friends. But I claim her as clanmate. If we had the time, I would give her a fitting burial. But we do not. So, I will place her under an honor cairn, and later, if we survive, I will carry her remains myself to the Dragon’s Tear so her spirit will have the greatest chance of rising to the Valley of the Dead.”
Ramswold nodded stiffly. Tharok lifted Shaya’s cindered body with the utmost care and turned to depart.
“Stay, Tharok,” Iskra called out.
The massive kragh paused and looked over his shoulder, his brows lowering.
Iskra looked around the gathered crowd. The Ascendant was standing beside Kethe, a hand on her shoulder, Ramswold beside a large kragh woman. With them were Tóki, Orishin, and Ilina, along with the surviving Vothaks, Hundred Serpents, Hrethings, and Cerulean Guard, the kragh shamans and black-skinned warriors. She espied Audsley standing at the back of the crowd, wearing a haunted expression.
“I am Iskra Kyferin, Empress of Agerastos, Lady of Ennoia, and the Ascendant’s Grace. We do not have time to grieve. We must hold a council of war — now — if we are to have any hope of stopping Zephyr and her demons. Kragh and human must work together, or we will all perish. Will you join us and share your wisdom?”
“Wisdom?” Tharok tested the word, then nodded to the kragh woman. “She is the wise one. But... yes. You are right.” Tenderly, he handed Shaya’s corpse to another kragh, to whom he growled a curt command. The kragh bowed and backed away. “I shall tend to my dead when this is done. We must talk. The end times are upon us.”
Iskra nodded. “That we yet live to fight back is a miracle. That we have.... dragons... on our side is our greatest hope. But there is much I don’t know about what has come to pass. We must share our knowledge, and then decide upon a plan.”
“Yes,” said Kethe. “Asho said Audsley abandoned him after stealing Tharok’s crown. Shortly thereafter, Starkadr fell from the skies.”
People turned and looked about until they located Audsley, then parted so he could no longer hide. The magister was ashen-faced, holding his firecat tightly to his chest.
“Yes, Audsley,” said Iskra. “It is time you came clean.” Each of her words felt like a hammer blow upon an anvil. “What have you done?”
CHAPTER 11
Audsley
Reflexively, Audsley reached for his demons, an instinct born of terror as all eyes turned toward him. With a pang, he realized they were gone, and with them the ability to escape, to teleport to a safe locale – his empty tower room back in Kyferin Castle, perhaps, or any hidden corner of the Empire where he could avoid what was to come.
Aedelbert climbed up out of his arms and onto his shoulder, where he draped his wings protectively about Audsley, claws digging through the fabric of Audsley’s robe. Awkwardly, Audsley reached up to reassure him, scratching him behind one ear, but Aedelbert was right. He was under attack here, and rightly so.
“Audsley?” Iskra’s voice had grown hard, and she looked once more the distant and regal figure he had met when he’d first arrived in her husband’s service.
“Yes, I — yes. Ahem. Where to begin?” He looked around nervously, but nowhere was there a safe harbor; he was sweating profusely, he realized, and his robe suddenly clung to him like a nightmare, thick and scratchy and tight at the throat.
There was one figure he could not bring himself to look at. One who had not yet spoken, whose very presence grounded the proceedings and defined their struggles. The Ascendant. Did he dare a glance? No, no, that would have been the height of folly.
“Know that everything I did, I did with the purest of intentions.” His words were overloud, and to himself it sounded like he had bleated.
He paused. Was what he had said true? He’d told himself that repeatedly, but to the end, had his intentions been pure?
“I was tasked by Lady Iskra to divine the depths of corruption in Aletheia, as hinted at by the dead Grace’s use of a black potion to avoid death when first the Empire fought the Agerastians, and by the subsequent deployment of the previous Makaria to aid in our destruction. Further, when I delivered Kethe to the Virtues, I noticed that the Minister of the Moon — a very highly ranked individual at court — was possessed by demons. With Lady Iskra’s blessings, I vowed to root out this evil and help save the Empire by allowing it to be changed and not destroyed.”
That sounded fine, a good way to open the proceedings. He went to continue, taking a deep breath, but Tóki cut in.
“How come you could tell there were demons in his soul, Magister?”
Nods and raised eyebrows echoed the question. He’d have to answer.
“Ah, it’s a long story. We’re pressed for time, the end of the world and all, but — in short — during my stay in Starkadr, my group was assaulted by demons. Ser Tiron, here, can attest to how precarious our situation was. We were trying to keep the Lunar Portal open so that Lady Iskra could effect diplomatic overtures with the Agerastian Empire, and I was the only one who could open the Portals outside of their normal lunar cycle.”
Ilina, the head Vothak, was watching him closely. Did she suspect him of lying already? Was she jealous of his abilities?
“A demon was loose in Starkadr. It killed several of our guards, and when I was abandoned by the last man — I won’t speak his name — I was left alone to kill it. I armed myself with weapons with which the old Sin Casters had bound demons, and hunted the demon before it could kill me.”
Suitably brave, and perhaps unexpected. The Hrething was nodding, and even Tharok looked impressed by his valor, though it was hard to be sure. “I found the demon, and we did battle! I swooped down, unleashing flame from my demon gauntlet, and — it gutted me. I was dying. My death would have doomed Iskra, trapping her in Agerastos, so I accepted the bargain offered to me by the demons in my artifacts and allowed them to heal me in exchange for taking them into my body.”
His face flushed. To speak of that moment so baldly made his heart race.
The nods were more tentative now.
Orishin spoke up, his words smooth and practically apologetic. “You accused the former Grace of being corrupt for evading death. Yet you did the same thing?”
Audsley’s smile became tight. “Yes. I don’t claim to be pure, and in that moment, I gave up my hopes for rebirth as a Sigean. I did it out of necessity. Regardless, I defeated the demon. Iskra joined forces with Agerastos, and my newfound powers allowed me to aid Kethe and Asho in rebuffing the Black Shriving from Mythgræfen only a day later.”
Kethe nodded somberly. “It’s true. Without Audsley’s help, I don’t think we would have survived.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Audsley wanted to hug her. “The demons could speak to me. A most... unsettling condition, to be sure, but when I saw the Minister of the Moon, they told me he was possessed. I endeavored to uncover more, and with their help, I did so. I realized that the black potions the Virtues drank were the source of the Fujiwara clan’s power, and I met Little Zephyr — a granddaughter of the former Minister of Perfection – during my investigations.”
“Former?” asked Iskra.
“Yes. Ah. I killed him?”
Eyebrows shot up.
“But quickly, I’ll finish. Zephyr took me into her confidence, and when Iskra led the Agerastian invasion of Aletheia, she took me to a secret Fujiwara stonecloud. There, I discovered that the black potions were drawn from the suffering of captive Sin
Casters. It was ghastly.”
Kethe’s face grew pale, and mutters rose around the group.
“Worse,” Audsley pressed on, “these Sin Casters were then somehow transformed into demons when they were... used up... and these demons were implanted in young Fujiwara souls.”
Tiron swore. Tharok turned to translate to Maur. Kethe’s head rocked back, and Iskra raised her hand to cover her mouth.
“Yes. It is awful. Zephyr promised to reveal these secrets if I helped her kill her grandfather so she could escape her clan’s clutches. We tried to do so and failed. He had the Virtue Ainos by his side, and with her help, he defeated us.”
The muttering ceased, and all eyes turned to the Ascendant. At last, Audsley glanced his way, looking at the young man out of the corner of his eye. A band of muscle was flickering into view over the Ascendant’s jaw, but otherwise he stood still.
“I... Ainos was sent to kill the Ascendant, and I couldn’t stop her.” Pressure was building up within Audsley’s chest, a terrible weight that made him want to run away, to escape before he could blurt out what was to come.
“She killed Theletos,” whispered Kethe. “And the previous Grace. Asho nearly killed himself stopping her.”
“Yes, but she is dead, is she not? That’s what matters. And — and —”
“And what, Audsley?” Iskra was watching him closely. Clearly, she knew he was hiding something. “And what?”
“And — I spoke with the Minister of Perfection. He told me, well — he challenged my very understanding of the world!” His hands were clenched into fists, and now he was staring directly at the Ascendant. “He proved to me that Ascendancy is a lie! Yes, a lie, inflicted upon the world by the first Ascendant, who wished for nothing more than power and revenge!”
His heart was thumping wildly in his chest. To speak such words to the Ascendant himself!
“The Minister of Perfection,” the Ascendant said quietly, “was a master of lies.”
“Yes, perhaps. Undoubtedly. But! He put certain facts before me that I could not dispute. The Portals!” Audsley turned to the rest of the group as if they were his jurors. “How could the Empire be built on such a demonic foundation? And — and why do the Virtues die so young? Why do the black potions sustain them? Once, in ages past, Sin Caster and Virtue would bond, oh yes, just like Kethe and Asho, and in doing so, they would sustain each other. They would empower each other! It was a harmony of creation and death that balanced out their ills! Now, with the Black Gate closed, the powers of creation no longer flow into the world. Sin Casters are unable to work their magic, and Virtues wither away and die!”
The Ascendant was gazing at him with something akin to sadness. This spurred Audsley into a fury. He turned to Ilina and Orishin.
“Why were the Agerastians punished? Because they started the great war that sundered the old republic during the Age of Wonders. Why were the Bythians cast into the roles of slaves? Because they dared laugh at the first Ascendant, spurning his ‘wisdom’! Do you know from whom the great Aletheian families are descended? The men who helped the first Ascendant slaughter all opposition!”
His chest was heaving. “It’s a lie! A great con, perpetrated by a man who wished for nothing more than revenge and power. Oh, and to think of the millions who follow this creed! Blind! Abused! With all wealth flowing to Aletheia so that those pampered, corrupt nobles could live indolently even as they failed in every respect to adhere to the very tenets of their reason for being!”
Audsley stopped. Everyone was staring at him. He was failing to persuade them of anything but his madness.
“I was convinced,” he said. “Convinced that the only way to reveal these truths and free the people of the Empire was to give the circlet to the Minister so he could open the Black Gate, once more allowing creative energy to flow back into the Empire, and in doing so usher in a new Age of Wonders.”
“Madness,” croaked Ramswold. “Heresy.”
“Open the Black Gate, Audsley?” Iskra whispered. “Are you listening to yourself?”
“You betrayed us?” asked Tiron. He looked wounded, confused. “You did this? You brought Starkadr down and freed the demons?”
Tharok rested his hand on the hilt of his great sword. “The kragh kill traitors.”
“Wait,” said the Ascendant. He stepped forward, and everyone grew still. “Magister Audsley, you have painted an alarming if erratic portrait of the world.”
There was no anger in his voice. Audsley hated that. Hatred, fury, resentment, disgust — all of these, he could have understood. But pity?
“You say that the Minister of Perfection convinced you that the Empire was founded on lies. That the original Ascendant created our religion as a means of controlling others and gaining revenge. Am I right?”
Audsley nodded.
“And that the proper state of being is for the Black Gate to be open, so that... creative energy can flow through and allow Sin Casters and Virtues to work miracles together.”
“Yes,” said Audsley, raising his chin. “Precisely.”
“Yet you don’t mention how he explained the existence of demons. What role do they play in this teleology?”
“Demons?” Audsley blinked. “They — they’re obviously evil, and —” Audsley stopped. The Minister hadn’t mentioned them. At all. Nor had Audsley thought fit to ask.
Why not?
“Demons come through the Black Gate, do they not?” asked the Ascendant.
Kethe stepped forward. “I’ve seen them do it with my own eyes. In the mountains above Mythgræfen. Asho and I saw them come through a second, smaller gate.”
“Yes,” said Audsley. “That’s true.”
“So?” the Ascendant pressed. “If the Black Gate is meant to be open to bring balance, how do you account for the demons that would come through it? Further, how do you explain these ‘creative powers’, the magics of the Sin Casters, being so tainted that they drive their practitioners mad? Why is this creative energy so corrupt?”
Audsley stammered, but nothing came to mind. Why hadn’t he asked himself these questions before? What role did demons play in this world of the Minister’s?
“We inherited an age of miracles,” said the Ascendant. “Yes, our ancestors used their powers to bind demons and create the Portals. Yes, they lifted Nous from the waters and allowed Sige to flourish on the peaks. But one cannot judge Ascendancy by their actions.”
“Yet you use those miracles to run your Empire!” cried Audsley. “You use demons to float Aletheia and make your Empire possible!”
“Evil is expressed through action,” said the Ascendant. “The demons are bound. They cannot harm others. They are no longer evil, but tools toward the greater good.”
Tharok snorted. “But they are no longer bound.”
“No,” said the Ascendant. “And whose fault is that?”
“Zephyr’s,” whispered Audsley.
“You helped her,” said Ramswold, his face deeply flushed.
“I did,” said Audsley. “But not at the end. I killed the Minister when he sought to take Tharok’s circlet from my hand. I changed my mind!” He looked around the group, pleading. “I didn’t trust him, so I struck him down. A final pang of my conscience! But in doing so, I was also wounded. Zephyr stole the circlet while I lay fallen, and she placed it on Starkadr’s guiding plinth. The demons within me refused me their power when I sought to strike her down. I was helpless without their aid.”
“What did she do, Audsley?” Tiron’s voice was harsh.
Audsley gazed sadly at him. Friends no longer. “She used the circlet’s power to release the demons of Starkadr after transporting it over Ennoia.”
Kethe fell into a crouch, cupping her head, her face scrunched up in anger and confusion. “But why? Why did she want to kill so many people?”
“I... I think she is mad,” said Audsley. “She has been abused since she was born. They forced a demon into her soul when she was only a child.”
> He felt as if he were floating. He didn’t know what was true any longer. The Minister’s tale still haunted him, but he couldn’t summon the energy to press his attack. He felt enervated. Half-mad himself.
“We have to focus,” said Tiron. “What is she going to do next?”
“We cannot let her open the Black Gate,” said Ramswold.
“No,” said Iskra. “Wait. She said something when she visited us in Starkadr.” She looked to the Ascendant. “Do you recall...?”
“She was going to drag my corpse to Aletheia,” the Ascendant said blandly. “So that I could witness her final and greatest deed.”
“Aletheia?” asked Kethe. “That’s not where the Black Gate is. Do you think she’s going to destroy the White... Oh.”
“No,” said Audsley. “She won’t try to do that.” He flinched at the looks people gave him. “That doesn’t align with her view of the world. No, if she’s going to go to Aletheia, it’s because she wants to release the demons that power its flight.”
“By the Ascendant,” whispered Ramswold. “There are already far too many of them for us to fight. We cannot let that happen.”
“Yes,” Tiron said with some measure of impatience. “But how are we to stop them? We’ve already lost Rauda and Shaya fighting that one big demon. How can we stop them from taking what they want?”
The crowd lapsed into silence.
“The circlet,” said Tharok at last. “We must take it back from her.”
“And if we do?” snapped Tiron. “Assuming we even can? What then? Can we use it to put the demons back?”
“No,” said Audsley. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, it might theoretically be possible, but who would know how to do such a thing? The demons were bound during the height of the Age of Wonders. They undoubtedly knew their names and used them to subjugate the demons. Who here could match the ur-destraas’ will and force it to be bound once more without that invaluable tool?”
“But the circlet can be used to compel the demons, can it not?” asked Iskra.
“Yes... I believe so,” said Audsley. “At least, those who were bound in Starkadr. But even so, there are thousands of demons loose. It would be impossible to hold them in perpetual captivity. If they can’t be placed back in their prisons, what would we do with them? Would they hold still while we asked our dragons to incinerate them one by one?”