by V. Lakshman
Only a short time had passed since they’d left the Ascension trial, and the outcome still hung over them like a dark cloud. Orion hadn’t said a word since Thoth had departed, and Yetteje had remained mostly quiet as a result, hesitant to interrupt the silence for fear of giving offense.
“He’ll heal,” the deep voice of Helios sounded from behind her. “We always do.”
She felt the Aeris lord come to stand beside her. Yetteje didn’t take her eyes off Orion, but she asked, “Who was that boy?”
“How can you not know of Ascension?” Helios responded.
Yetteje watched as he took a knee beside her so they were of a more even height. “You, who stand at the threshold of your own change, and yet know nothing of us.”
Yetteje drew her brows together in consternation. She could understand every word he used, but the meaning still eluded her, so she asked, “Would Orion have become part of that boy?”
Helios smiled, his sunburst armor catching the morning rays and glinting gold. “Little cat, had Orion bonded with Tomas in Ascension, he would have returned to the existence we were meant to have. They would become one, just as you may join with one of us found worthy.”
Yetteje looked back at the silver-winged Watcher and said, “You’re supposed to be inside us?”
Helios smiled again. “No, we are one, and through each lifetime we live together, we grow in power. Once we were the wind and you the voice. We were the power and you the strength.” He held her with his gaze and completed, “You are the Will and we are the Way . . . but all that changed with the Fall.”
“What’s that?” Yetteje asked, sitting down. This is getting interesting.
Orion strode forward then, catching the last question and answering, “When Sovereign fell to Edyn the world was forever changed. We should have been one, yet now we can only achieve such bliss through Ascension.” He looked meaningfully at Helios, then turned back to Yetteje.
“Lilyth seeks unification through possession and we oppose her, but in the end we are all meant to be one within the Way.”
“And you do this with that combat test?”
Helios stood up and shrugged. “Combat is but one way. It is not necessary to fight, only to sacrifice—a purity of need beckoning for our gift.”
Orion clapped Helios on the shoulder, then looked down at Yetteje, a sad look on his face. “It is rare, but think on how the first of us must have Ascended. It cannot always require the trial I suffered . . . and failed, but must also be open to those pure of heart. It is a blessed event . . .”
He trailed off, his grief over the outcome of his Test still on the verge of overwhelming him.
“Do not believe this is the end. Though Tomas failed, we will hold courage in our hearts and find other worthy aspirants,” Helios said, looking at Yetteje, though his words were clearly meant for his friend. He squeezed the Aeris lord’s shoulder in commiseration. “We must decide where to go from here.” He looked at Yetteje and winked, “Or our guest will soon tire of us.”
Orion took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “Our choices are few if we’re to get our new companion home safely. Transition to Edyn is nigh impossible for those like us. We can attempt the gate at Harmagedon and treat with the Lord of the East Gate. Though he is not one to allow passage without exacting his due.”
Helios nodded and cautioned, “Zafir’s forces will be guarding that area. We have no quarrel with him, but he is no different from any other Celestial Lord, only slightly less likely to kill us.” The sunburst lord looked down in consternation, his face betraying that he weighed both choices carefully. Finally, he looked at Orion and said, “Still, he may be the better path.”
“Wait,” Yetteje said, interrupting, “you said we have a few choices. What else?”
“There are no other choices, little one,” Orion replied. “All other paths mean our demise.”
“Humor me,” she said obstinately. “What else?”
Orion looked uncomfortably at Helios before responding, “Lilyth would have a gate at Olympious, but—”
“That’s where we’re going,” she stated flatly. When the Watcher seemed about to respond, Yetteje cut him off with a finger saying, “No arguments. I’ve faced her before and she doesn’t scare me.” This wasn’t exactly true, yet there was an unfinished task she’d put to herself since stepping through the portal.
Orion said, “You can’t be serious. You heard Helios. It will mean death for us all.”
Yetteje shook her head and then pointed to the scar on her face. “Lilyth healed me, so I doubt she would ruin that just to kill me.”
There was a blinding flash and there stood Thoth, looking angry and scared at the same time. “You go too far, Princess! The demon queen will use you against your friends to force their obedience.”
“To do what?” Yetteje asked, recovering from the sudden appearance of the keeper. When Thoth did not immediately answer, she said, “You promised to tell me what was going on.”
“You’re being unreasonable—”
Yetteje’s eyes flashed yellow as she took a step forward with Valor in hand and said, “You haven’t seen unreasonable. Yet.”
Thoth backed up a step, Valor lighting his features in a white-yellow glow. His eyes went from Yetteje’s bow to the two Watchers standing by implacably. Seeing no help from that quarter, he seemed to fall in on himself, deflated. He raised a hand and said, “Very well, Princess. If things must be, let them be so without subterfuge.”
He motioned for her to take a seat, which Yetteje reluctantly did. Then he did so as well, lacing his fingers in front of him with his staff resting horizontally across his thighs.
He blinked a few times, as if organizing his thoughts, then began, “There is a war, but not with Edyn. It is between those who believe Ascension is the key to our survival and those who believe the Way means possession. These Watchers” —his gaze took in Orion and Helios—“are among the few Aeris lords who believe the former. The rest follow Lilyth and seek to possess the people of Edyn.”
“Few?” Yetteje tried to sound confident, but it was hard to mask her sudden doubt.
Thoth nodded, “Each Watcher who achieves Ascension is lost to our ranks. Yet, while there is no limit to the myths from which we are born, the appearance of new heroes to hold the line alongside us is limited by faith.” He looked disappointed when he said, “Think on your gods . . . do you know their families?”
Yetteje shook her head, “Not all, but the gods are the gods.”
Thoth smiled, “Exactly, and by that very broad stroke the gods are left with nothing. We Aeris lose children, lose families, lose anyone who falls out of favor with Edyn. Imagine a world where your deeds determine survival, not health or years.” He looked at her for a moment then said, “It is far from fair, a perversion of how things should have been. Because of this and many other reasons, Sovereign seeks to remake this world.”
“Who is Sovereign?” Yetteje asked.
Thoth’s expression was filled with remorse but he nonetheless replied. “There are two paths to Ascension. One is through the trials, anything that forces a person to sacrifice everything for a cause or belief. Great sacrifice bonds an Aeris to the one who demonstrates such conviction. You saw this with Orion, though it did not end in success.
“Another is through great need or purity of heart.” Thoth licked his lips, “Yet there is a third way, unspoken . . . rebirth. Remake the world as it should have been, and the separation of the people of Edyn from the Way will disappear. We will be unified, able to exist within the Way, as was intended before the Fall. Sovereign is the force behind this.”
“What will happen to my home?” whispered Yetteje, a part of her knowing the answer.
“Obliteration. A new world will be born and you and yours will be nothing more than myths, legends, tales . . . gods and demons in the new world’s lore. Olympious, Sovereign, Lilyth, even Orion, Helios, and myself—we will be legends, the only thing the new world will
hold of us.”
Yetteje thought for a moment, her mind racing. “Then Lilyth fights to keep Sovereign from remaking the world.”
“Yes, but she condemns Edyn to possession by her people. Our Watchers are too few to stop her and as such will become slaves to her Furies if she triumphs.”
A sudden pit formed in her stomach. “What about Arek? She said she was his mother.”
Thoth looked down, and when he looked up Yetteje thought she saw real sadness in his eyes. “Arek is being used in a dangerous gambit against the highlord of the elves, the only force besides us who can withstand Lilyth’s Furies.” He looked at Orion.
The gargantuan Watcher closed his eyes, took a breath and leaned in to meet Yetteje’s eyes. He said, “The blackfire.”
Thoth nodded. “It can be the only explanation for what you saw.”
“Wait,” Yetteje said. “Who’s this elven highlord?”
Thoth replied, “I hope we do not regret being so forthright, but I made a promise to a man I respect greatly that the time for obfuscation is over.” He paused. “Your great grand uncle ten generations removed, Valarius Galadine. He has your cousin, Niall.”
When Yetteje did not reply, he continued, “When Lilyth attacked the henge to recover Arek, it showed a weakness in her plan. She wants Arek here in Edyn but cannot let him fall into Valarius’s hands.”
“Why?” Yetteje asked, assimilating the information that Niall was now with a Galadine believed to have been dead for centuries. She was silent, because she understood at some deep level that only this would solicit the truth. Still, frustration rushed through her. Leave it to Niall to find the only dictator in this realm who was also family. A part of her flirted with a nascent idea, a new objective.
“Arek was crafted for a single purpose,” Thoth continued.
“The death of us all,” commented Helios dryly. “He can destroy us with a touch.”
“Perhaps,” answered Thoth, “but the elves are almost as dangerous. Their weapons will injure you just as they injure the mistfrights. They have been imbued with the same hate Valarius has for all Aeris.” The keeper was silent.
Then he looked at Yetteje and said, “Valarius seeks to escape Arcadia, and to do so he needs a body. I think Arek was created for that purpose.”
“Why does he need a body?” she whispered.
“An Aeris must have a body to exist in Edyn, unlike Arcadia,” replied Thoth.
“If this is Valarius’s plan, we cannot let Arek near him,” Orion stated, his voice dropping with the finality of his judgment.
“You also must protect Arek,” the keeper told the two Watchers. “If he dies here, it will release the blackfire and Arcadia will be consumed.”
“And why haven’t you sent us to rescue Niall?” Yetteje asked, as this last piece of the puzzle still felt out of place.
There was a pause, and Thoth cleared his throat, his eyebrows drawn together. “What do you want me to say, Princess?” the keeper asked, spreading his hands. “That he’s not important enough to risk any of you to Valarius? It would mean death for our Watchers and you taken captive, to be used as bait or ransom.”
For the first time, his straightforward answer shocked her. It was delivered with the same flat tone the Marks used when reporting losses in battle to her father. It was becoming clear Niall was nothing more than a statistic to Thoth, not a real person. Yetteje remained silent, but inside she fumed.
She remembered something that insane mage Duncan had said before leaving them at the gate. It was clear this place was different from Edyn. If Valarius could go from being dead there, to alive here as an Aeris, then return to Edyn . . . then so could others. The thought reverberated in her head.
“—why we cannot go to Lilyth. Her command over Arcadia is nearly absolute.”
Yetteje took a breath, her thoughts falling into order. She looked at the three of them and said, “Yes, we can. We’ll go and petition her aid.”
“Madness!” exclaimed Thoth. “This is why we don’t tell you things.”
“Be that as it may,” replied Yetteje icily, “you’re wrong about Niall not being important, and that means you’re wrong about other things.”
It was Thoth’s turn to fume silently, so she continued. “It’s clear Lilyth is preparing to invade Edyn. I saw with my own eyes her mistfrights take over Bara’cor and the king’s last stand. Ask yourself, who will the land rally behind to withstand her might? Shornhelm, the other fortresses and their rulers, even EvenSea”—her voice broke at that—“are gone.” She challenged them with her gaze. “As far as I know, Niall is the rightful heir to Bara’cor. It is his flag that the land will rally behind and follow.”
Thoth shook his head, but Yetteje rose and said, “I will have my say with Lilyth and then we’ll rescue Niall and get out of here.”
“What can Lilyth give you, Princess, that we cannot?” demanded Helios.
Yetteje’s amber eyes glowed in the morning sun. She thought about her purpose in coming, about the people she loved, and knew she had only one choice.
“You said she’s the ruler of the dead,” Yetteje said to Thoth. “I’m going to make her give me back my father.”
The Tomb
Long roads can make friends of the weary.
- Alain the Farflung, A Guide to Westbay
A
rek’s trepidation increased as they neared Olympious. The city grew from a pyramid shape in the distance to a thriving capital city that dwarfed his own Meridian Isle. Winged shapes flew in and out, singly and in small arrowhead formations. Cainan and Piter remained hidden, but they could be at his side in less than a heartbeat.
“You know what you’re doing?” Brianna asked. So she wasn’t immune to the sense of foreboding.
Arek looked at her sidelong, then challenged, “No. Do you?”
Brianna looked down at him and something in her eyes told him his remark had been hasty and ill-mannered. So before she said anything he went on, “I don’t know what to expect. I was invited here but then dropped amongst enemies. There’s so much going on it’s hard to keep track.” He added sheepishly, “Sorry.”
Brianna gave him a small smile and replied, “Try waking up to a dream like this.”
Arek looked at her quizzically, and her only reply was to reassert the guarded mask she’d been wearing since they’d met. It was as if she’d momentarily forgotten where she was and spoken her true mind. Arek was tempted to force an answer but realized whatever secrets Brianna held would likely be more dependable if voluntarily given. What he needed to understand was why Lilyth had captured her in the first place.
“What do you know about the men who held you captive?” he asked, starting once again for the majestic city.
“Nothing,” Brianna said, following behind him. “I woke in chains and they claimed me for someone they called, The Lady.”
She tugged at the collar still around her neck, but Arek couldn’t tell if she was testing it or making herself more comfortable.
“Lilyth is the Lady,” he offered. “We are going to see her now.”
Brianna stopped, shock plainly written on her face. “You’re taking me back to the person who captured me?”
Arek cocked his head at her then replied, “Lilyth claims she’s my mother and that I’m a prince in this world.” He spread his arms slightly and executed a small, mock bow, noting Brianna now looked decidedly uncomfortable. In an effort to calm her, he added, “Don’t worry. I don’t think she’ll harm you if you’re with me.”
“I’m confused. Then why did you kill your own men?” she asked after a moment of silence.
The question caught him off guard and he had to think for a moment before answering, “Lilyth claims. I didn’t say I believe her. But if I really am a prince here, you’re safest with me.”
She looked more unconvinced, if that was even possible. It occurred to Arek that she had no context with which to judge his actions. So he nodded and gestured for them to continue walking
and said, “Let me tell you about the last week of my life.”
Arek began, starting with his fateful encounter with Piter, the hasty departure to investigate the Gate of Lilyth with the dragon-knight Rai’stahn, what he perceived as the council’s orders to use him, his master’s choices, his flight to Bara’cor, and finally appearing in Arcadia. The telling took some time as Brianna asked pointed questions here and there to clarify his tale. When he was finished, the walls of Olympious were considerably closer.
“Do you think your master was prepared to let you die?” Brianna asked softly.
The question trailed off and Arek couldn’t help but pick up his pace, as if his feet wanted to physically get away from the question. His thoughts were heavy; he had endlessly wondered the same thing. In the end, he spoke his heart.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so . . . but there are times when I wonder if anyone should choose one life over saving their world from invasion.” He looked up at Brianna and asked, “What would you have done?”
The question could have been taken many ways, but it seemed Brianna chose to interpret it as it applied to his master. She sighed, then simply said, “I probably would have asked you.”
“Asked?”
Brianna nodded. “You said you adepts take an oath to serve your land. I would have asked you to stand by that oath for the good of the people.”
Arek paused, considering her words. It had not occurred to him that the council could have asked his permission, and a part of him remembered it was the very same advice he’d given the king of Bara’cor when he wanted to force Arek’s help. Was he so used to listening to orders from the masters that it had never occurred to him that he had a choice? He couldn’t imagine the lore father asking him anything, so he said, “And if I had said no?”
The dwarven prisoner looked away, not meeting his eyes. Then she began haltingly, “You really want me—”