“I will confess, Guardian, I did not anticipate meeting you as you’ve become so soon,” Renivar said. “Some years spent grappling with your gains before manifesting behind me to attempt a single, cowardly blow; that is how I thought this would end.”
Poe knew training and time would have been the wiser course, but they hadn’t the luxury for such measures. Renivar’s anticipation of Einré’s intended plan only served to speak of its inevitable failure; years of preparation that would have amounted to nothing.
“I come to satisfy Airia Rousow’s bid and see you struck down,” Poe declared. He drew his blades calmly, and they hung lax in his hands. “Dethrone yourself, Taryl Renivar, and no harm shall come.”
The look on Renivar’s face, even at such distance, was clear indignation on the verge of outrage. “No harm? Do not think me blind to the trail of death left in your wake. ‘No harm’ indeed.”
“Not much choice, mate,” Shea countered. “Got in our way.”
“I anticipated a collision with the Guardian,” Taryl said. “The rest of you were not to insert yourselves into our conflict.” He strained beneath some unseen force to raise an accusing hand. “This is your doing, isn’t it? You coerced them into coming here, knowing the harm you would inflict.”
Flynn stepped to the fore, unwavering in the face of Renivar’s allegation. “I counted on it,” he admitted. “It would be better if it were just between us, but your devotees have made that impossible.”
Between us? Poe said nothing, but looked aside to Flynn. Was his ‘us’ referring to their group versus Renivar? Or was the quarrel more singular: Flynn and Renivar against each other?
“If released, you are going to end life as we know it,” Flynn went on. “I can’t give a damn about those you think are worth saving, knowing how many more would pay the price.”
Renivar did not waver. “Such a sweeping sacrifice is a necessary evil, and the last evil to ever be suffered. I do not dispute that it is reprehensible, only that it is essential.”
“And as a god, you think yourself above such evils, Saint Renivar?” Chari stepped up to deliver her accusation. “You find fault in the conflicting moralities of humanity, yet stand arrogant enough to employ the most heinous of resolutions and think yourself uniquely qualified to eliminate any shades of gray?”
Renivar shook his head. “It is a burden I’ve shouldered for myself. You do not understand because you’ve chosen not to.”
“And what if it’s not us who’s chosen ignorance?” Flynn asked. “What if you’ve become dissatisfied and settled for an easy solution?”
“Only a fool would believe there is any ease in this.”
“You’ve expressed your disappointment with the bulk of humanity before,” Flynn replied. “But if there’s to be any collective improvement, it won’t occur overnight, let alone in a few years. It’s gradual, and you may not even recognize the results as they unfold.”
“And how long is one expected to wait?” Renivar demanded. “So long as the wicked and cunning escape their crimes unpunished, it will serve as an example to others. Those struggling to climb from humanity’s excrement will only learn to fall harder.” He shook his head in disappointment. “I would expect such an outlook from one so desperate to save himself. The next world shall disallow men like you from ever coming to be.”
It wasn’t like before. They shared a private audience with Renivar, who rose to a standing position. He was imposing, and though Poe was effectively his equal, he felt small before this god who rattled just to stay upright as his ethereal chains threatened to jerk him back down.
“So can he do anything to us?” Zaja asked in a worried whisper.
“My protection extends over all of you,” Poe assured her. “You five cannot be directly influenced by his power.”
“Will it work?”
“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Poe admitted.
There was a pounding at the door behind them. It was barricaded, but the Reahv’li had caught up, and were trying to force their way in. Renivar beckoned for Poe’s advance. “I would see this over,” he requested. “I wish all of you gone.”
Poe’s grip on his blades tightened, and he shifted to hold both at the ready. All at once, he brimmed with confidence, certain that Renivar could not outmatch him. His sins would not be wiped away, but a new destiny was waiting before him—he needed only to claim it.
No sooner had Poe’s stride begun then his attention was drawn back to the allies at his back. Through Renivar’s will, the far walls had melded toward each other, converging in that slim space between him and them like amorphous stone.
“Tryin’ to keep us out, fucker?!” came Jean’s muffled demand.
The wall suddenly pulsed, nearly crumbling before it came back together and transmuted to solid steel. Poe was prepared to ignore them and advance, but the Reahv’li were coming, and he could not leave them trapped.
It only took two strokes from his blades to slice an opening, and in that time the ground beneath him became like quicksand, and Poe was quickly sinking toward Borudust Castle’s depths. He twisted around to face Renivar as Chari rolled out beside him, firing shots. They did nothing, each bullet wound healing the instant it struck, but it provided Poe the moment he needed to climb from his snare, for he could move faster than the sand sank.
Taryl Renivar had only begun his response, and raised his arms up, as though he were conducting an orchestra. Matter from the spire began to dissolve and swarm over him, before exploding out into a blinding sandstorm that flooded the grand chamber.
Poe instinctively shielded his eyes, tried to peer through the deluge, and realized a mass of arrows was forming above Renivar, and the volley fired off without the need for bowmen. Neither the arrows nor the countless grains of sand pelting the air were problems in themselves, for Poe could see how each pierced the air, and knew where all were going and where all would land.
Renivar is ignoring me, Poe realized. He targets my comrades.
Every impulse in Poe’s body told him to advance and endure, but he instead darted to his sides, cutting the arrows in midair that they would clatter harmlessly to the floor. And while he was been distracted, Renivar had dropped to a crouch, thrusting his fingertips into the stone ground of Borudust Castle. It became like a sludge, boiling and bubbling as the gray stone turned molten red.
“I’ve got this,” Zaja declared, sliding down and using her own magicks to force the ground to cool. She exerted with all her might, the process taking a clear physical toll on her, and for all her effort, she had only protected a small field of space around them—Renivar’s will was threatening to overtake them, and it wasn’t even wearing him down.
And in the midst of all this chaos, the Reahv’li were still pounding at the door. It swelled from their pressure, the wood splintering, the hinges cracking as they tried to force their way in.
“My followers, please,” Renivar called out. “Stay from this place! Do not imperil yourselves so easily!”
Unable to advance, Poe stepped back and found himself near Flynn. “This is his power confined to this one chamber,” Poe said. “Imagine how the world might conform were he free.”
“I don’t intend to find out,” Flynn replied. He was looking past the sandstorm, past Zaja and the molten ground, to Renivar himself. He studied the old man intensely, as if trying to probe some weakness.
Poe had no choice—he would have to wade the molten floor and suffer the harm it would cause his flesh. The wounds would heal as soon as he emerged.
No sooner had he taken his first step than Flynn turned away and retreated to the entrance, wrapping his arms around one of the wooden bars they’d used to keep their pursuers at bay.
“What are you doing?!” Poe demanded.
“Those are good people outside,” Flynn replied as he worked to unbar the entrance. “Good people will n
ot follow orders merely because it’s the right thing to do. Good people act when needed.”
The moment Flynn loosened the barricade, he had to fall back as the door opened and a mob of Reahv’li burst into Renivar’s chambers and drove the six further inward before overtaking them. The Living God cried once more for them to leave, but those who were able to speak only called out in support of him.
“We shall not abandon ye, Lord Renivar!”
“End the assassins! Do it for your families!”
And all at once, the madness that had consumed the grand chamber retreated, for Taryl Renivar would not risk any tactic that would endanger his followers, and to that end, Flynn’s gambit had paid off. They had traded a force of overwhelming power for one of overwhelming numbers, but earth and air were both clear.
Poe charged Renivar, easily outpacing the crowd, but something snagged his ankle, forcing him to a halt. Another wrapped around his midsection and another, his right arm, and Poe found that Renivar had willed into existence monstrous tendrils, rooted in the stone and struggling to hold him in place. Before any more could take him, Poe cut himself free and fell back, just as myriad swords erupted from the floor, where they would have impaled him thoroughly.
He seeks to incapacitate me, Poe realized. Were I practiced, these would be no quandary, yet I cannot will myself away.
“Bloody tossers!” Poe’s attention snapped back, and he found Shea being quickly overwhelmed. In truth, none of his allies were safe—the Reahv’li would have already won if only there were hardened killers in the bunch.
For the moment, Poe retreated, cutting their attackers down left and right to reach Shea, and tearing through her assailants like paper. She had landed on her tail, and looked up at him with the same contempt she’d had on her face when they first met.
“Thanks,” she muttered brusquely and then, wearily, used the Searing Truth to cut down another of the enemy.
There was too much noise, too much chaos. Jean was collapsing the floor, and Renivar was just as quickly mending the damage. The Reahv’li soldiers would press their weight on one of Poe’s allies only to leave themselves open to another. And amidst the unfolding bedlam, Poe knew his chance to assassinate Renivar and claim his new destiny was rapidly diminishing. The intruders would overtake his allies and the Reahv’li’s expert killers would invade and drag Poe down with them. The path to Renivar was congested, as friend and foe alike repeatedly intruded.
And then, in an instant, he saw it all: the flow of the crowd, where they were going and where they would be. He turned the Dark Sword over in his hand, raised it high, and hurled it through that perfect opening, the blade rotating vertically through the air toward Renivar, who would never be able to react in time.
Not one to leave things to chance, Poe ducked and weaved through the crowd to see the deed done, and was nearly there when the blade collided, striking straight through the chest. His elation quickly turned to fury, for standing there, impaled, just inches between them, was Crescen DuMear, who had joined the fray unnoticed and placed himself between his god and certain death.
“In service to you, my Lord,” he wheezed.
“Crescen,” Renivar whispered in shock.
Poe gritted his teeth and leapt upon the pedestal, catching the hilt of the Dark Sword underhand and tearing it free. He rotated on the spot, his back to Renivar’s face in a clean, underhand stroke that would see this god decapitated. Time slowed around them; it was to be done.
“It should have been between us,” Taryl Renivar told him coldly.
“It should have been,” Poe agreed. The intrusion of numbers had only gotten in the way for both sides.
Guardian Poe was changed, no longer the man skulking in the woods, murdering those who came too near Heaven’s sacred gates. He was no longer the dog of a duplicitous mistress, but a higher being, and this placed him apart from those who had helped him along the way. He might not have made it to this pedestal without them, but these decisive moments should have been god to god; his blade would have struck true, he was sure of it.
Taryl Renivar grabbed Poe’s forearm just as the sword struck the right side of his neck; unlike the other wounds inflicted thus far, this did not heal so smoothly. It would scar, and served as an affirmation to the Dark Sword’s unique power, but the Living God would endure.
It was to Poe’s dismay and surprise that in his fury Renivar screamed and stood, seemingly unaware of the bindings that had for so long dragged him down. He did not loosen his grip on Poe’s arm, but instead caught the other and held him up by both.
And as his steely eyes met Poe’s, Taryl Renivar wept. “He was the best of them,” he said of Crescen. “There was a place made for him in the world to come, and now he will never see it.”
Poe strained to break free, his blades mere inches from the life they seemed destined to take, but he could not move. He glanced down at Crescen and saw, for a fleeting moment, the memory of a man who’d given his right hand to see an oppressed people free, and done so with a serene smile. He still breathed, but was bleeding heavily. He would not last long.
“For you, there was never to be a place,” Taryl told Poe. “But I had hoped you would find decency in your heart, and sympathy too for the plights of the many who could have been your victims in another life.” He shook his head, deeply hurt. “But that is not to be, for Rousow chose you too well. We can never be allies, Guardian Poe.”
“In that too, I concur,” Poe replied.
There was a light forming in Poe’s periphery, and it was growing brighter and brighter. Still, Poe tried to shake free, and still it came to nothing, save a realization that this light was coming from within, and was not something he wished to let out.
Orick Daimous had warned him, and he only now realized it. Taryl Renivar had shouldered some vestige of Poe’s divinity for centuries, and in his naïveté, he had placed the source of it right before the Living God. He would not be able to take it, but for a fleeting moment, he could master it. Space and time around Poe warped, and the only mercy came when Renivar’s hold on him faded, but when the light dulled, Poe had no idea where he was.
* * *
Flynn found himself lying face down on a road. It was cobblestone, and his fingertips found the uneven stone easy to grip as he pushed himself up. At first, he saw little more than billowing fog and a yellow-tinged light. He shook his head, tried to find his footing, and nearly fell.
At the edge of the road was nothing. It was oblivion, an endless night sky of purple auroras, but in a setting wholly unfamiliar. The fog passed and Flynn stepped back, craning his head up to see another road paralleling his own. This passage was caged off but crowded with people. They looked on Flynn with contempt and fear but said nothing of him, as they were too busy tending their wounded.
“Renivar’s worshippers,” he realized.
Flynn wandered down the road for some uncertain time to escape their judgmental eyes. He called out the names of his friends, but none answered back.
At last, desperately, he screamed out, “Renivar! Taryl Renivar!”
Flynn could sense him, still bound in one place, only the distance was impossible to determine. When Renivar answered, his voice was omnipresent, everywhere and nowhere at once. Flynn wondered if he was the only one who heard the Living God speak, or if their conversation was being broadcast to every living being in this strange void.
“You are here by your actions,” Renivar admonished. He had not appeared in any sense, but Flynn’s mind compensated, conjuring a face to put the voice to. They walked, side by side; Flynn hadn’t given up looking.
“Where are my friends?” he asked. “What did you do with them?”
“Some remain,” Taryl replied. “Some have gone. Soon, you will too.”
“What happened? Where is this place?”
“A space in between, where life may live but d
oes not. It had a purpose once, but was abandoned before ever being put to use. All of Yeribelt is gone, for the moment. A great anger awakened within me, and I loosed some of the strength I’ve been reserving for so long.”
Flynn looked down at another road, bars protecting its occupants from his possible intrusion. “This is what will happen when you make a new reality…?”
“It is not more than a drop in the bucket, by comparison.”
“You should just kill us,” Flynn said.
“If I could but lay hands on you, it would be painless and swift,” Renivar promised. There was a rumble in the distance, and a few stones slipped from the road and fell into the nothingness. “I want you out of my house,” Renivar warned, and he did not speak again.
The sounds of this reality changing and shifting carried in the distance, but the path Flynn walked on was yet firm. That Renivar could not change Flynn like he’d warped his own castle suggested that Poe’s protection still held, and this realization tuned his senses to Poe himself, whom Flynn realized was both still in this realm, and very close by.
He ran, and the road bent and curved and seemed to go on forever toward the fog. Whether it was minutes or hours, the road carried him to an encircled cage, wherein stood Guardian Poe, his back to Flynn, his hood drawn.
“Poe!” he cried, reaching through the bars.
Poe glanced over his shoulder, but did not seem happy to see Flynn. “You still live,” he observed.
“As do you,” Flynn said with a smile. “Let’s get you out of there. We’ll find the others and regroup. Okay?”
Poe shook his head. “My journey with you has ended. I am changed for having known you, and perhaps made better. But you are not trustworthy, Flynn, and the matters to come no longer concern you.”
“Poe?” he asked, desperately clawing through the bars. “Poe, come back.” His friend turned his back and walked off toward a door on the far side of the cage; he placed one hand on it and the other on his sword. Perhaps to Poe’s surprise, the door creaked open, and he released his blade as readily as he’d taken hold of it. “Poe, please come back,” Flynn pled. If he could just get him to talk a little longer, they would sort this out and stick together.
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