The Beginning After the End: Book 7: Divergence

by TurtleMe

  “What method is the unit using to track down the gates?” I asked. “Assuming that you do not just have them blindly wandering around.”

  A shadow of a smile passed over Trodius Flamesworth’s lips. “I prefer not to waste even the smallest of resources on ventures like that. The gates constantly emit a faint fluctuation of mana particles. Normally, this wouldn’t be detectable to even the best trackers, but these fluctuations occur throughout the whole spectrum of elements.”

  “Interesting,” I said, thinking back to my time trying to track mana fluctuations in Darv. It was hard, but that was because I had blindly searched for any deviations in the ambient mana through Realmheart. To find fluctuations through all the elements, finding it would just be a matter of flying over… all of the Beast Glades.

  Never mind, I thought. A waste of time considering there might not even be any gates.

  My thoughts were interrupted by Trodius, who began putting away his notes. He spent a good few minutes meticulously organizing and perfectly stacking his piles of papers before meeting my gaze. “My apologies for your having to sit through this meeting.”

  The senior captain stood up, motioning for the rest of the people present to leave, but I stopped him.

  “It’ll be better for them to hear this as well,” I stated, still in my seat.

  It didn’t take too long to explain what I learned from interrogating the Alacryan. By filling in some of the gaps with information I’d gained from Uto’s memories, I was able to give an in-depth analysis that had even Captain Jesmiya furiously scribbling on a piece of paper.

  “Intriguing,” Trodius mused. “General, you say that the Alacryan mages have a very limited, specialized form of magic manipulation, but what is stopping a ‘Striker’—for example—from forming his mana into a ranged strike?”

  “It’s as the senior captain says. I can’t exactly give this information to my troops only to have them injured or killed because a Striker launched a ranged spell or a Shield was able to conjure a mana blade,” Jesmiya added.

  “I won’t tell you to be entirely confident in this information. Inform only the heads and have them observe. Our enemies use magic very differently from us, but that doesn’t always mean it’s better. Study and exploit the flaws,” I stated. “The Council will be expecting reports containing firsthand observations of these potential limits to our enemies’ abilities.”

  The Council wasn’t actually aware of this information yet, but they would be soon, and they undoubtedly were going to want reports back.

  Finally, I explained the rest of what I knew about the marks, crests, emblems, and regalias.

  “Hopefully this information can give us an edge in the upcoming battles, assuming we can confirm its validity.” I stood up. “That’ll be all.”

  I took my leave, not wanting to stay inside any longer than necessary. Throughout the entire meeting, I had paid careful attention to Trodius Flamesworth. I couldn’t help but resent the Flamesworth family after hearing firsthand from Jasmine how she was discarded by them.

  I’d gotten to know Hester, Jasmine’s aunt, rather well during my training at the castle, which had somewhat eased my negativity toward her family as a whole. Hearing about the relationship between Jasmine and her father from Hester had focused my animosity on Trodius, but after meeting the man today, all I felt was a wary callousness.

  In the end, I had come here as a Lance, not as Jasmine’s friend. Trodius may be a piss poor father, and he may be cold-hearted to a certain degree, but his leadership was solid.

  After the quiet of the meeting pavilion, the Wall felt especially loud and busy. The ground wasn’t paved so a fine cloud of sand and dust constantly swirled in the air. Workers, caked in dirt and grime, mingled with merchants and adventurers, some still holding their shovels or pickaxes after being recently relieved from their shift. Vendors shouted out their products from tents and carts as the laborers, adventurers, and soldiers filtered through.

  I saw mostly food and equipment useful to a life of constant conflict, but there were many vendors selling other things as well: silversmiths, gem cutters, potters, painters, sculptors, tailors, and more. Many families resided in the little makeshift city, and the stress of living here, on the very doorstep of the battle against the corrupted beasts flooding from the Beast Glades, certainly drove their desire for whatever creature comforts they could afford.

  As if to emphasize this thought, a monstrous roar cut through the clamor of the market and the Wall, followed by a series of explosions. There was a lull in the market noise as every head turned toward the Wall. I blinked and the moment passed.

  “Oy! Lad! Your shoes look mighty thin for someone in these parts,” a burly man in a leather apron called out. “Might I interest you in a pair of fine leather boots for your poor feet?”

  The man waved his arm at an array of leather footwear displayed in wooden racks. Feigning interest, I leaned forward and touched a few of the boots that looked my size.

  “Those ones all have a layer of compressed wool inside,” he said excitedly. “I swear, you’ll feel like you’re walking on a cloud.”

  Curious, I slipped out of my thin turnshoes and pulled on a pair of the merchant’s boots.

  I hopped a few times before taking them off. Placing them back on the rack, I gave the merchant a grin. “I’ve walked on a cloud before and this wasn’t quite the same. Nice shoes, though.”

  It was somewhat surreal walking through the busy streets of the fortress. Dressed in a simple loose robe and carrying no weapon, very few people here recognized me, and I was able to explore without drawing attention to myself.

  Life here required a certain stoicism from the residents. Even in the market, there was a subtle tension hiding under the surface. I could see it in the laborers’ quick steps and downcast eyes; in the short, businesslike exchanges between the merchants and the adventurers; but most of all, I could see it in the way everyone pretended like they weren’t afraid.

  Chewing on a skewer of charbroiled meat that had the texture of chicken thigh, I stopped by every stall that caught my interest. Some contained more mundane items like cloth, furs, spices, and alcohol—which was unsurprisingly popular with the overworked soldiers and workers—but there were other, more interesting wares on display as well. A rapier-thin, mustachioed man was selling enchanted armor and weapons. One merchant tried very hard to get me to buy an enchanted handle that shot out a blast of fire and smoke from a small nozzle—mainly used for self-defense by weak nobles. He finally gave up when I conjured a sphere of fire from my finger, close enough to singe his bangs, and gave the man a wink.

  As the sun began to set, I was considering my next move when a deep horn sounded in the distance.

  The horn had sounded from beyond a large metal gate about twenty feet high.

  I wonder what’s happening? I thought just as another horn blew.

  Several uniformed workers marched off to the gate, so I followed. Chains rattled behind the stones as the gate rose with a groan, opening the way.

  A crowd had already formed around the gate as carriages pulled by mana beasts began filing in, mages and warriors walking beside them with weapons unsheathed. Their exhaustion was evident in their postures and expressions, but the workers took over and started slowly unloading crates from the carriages. I stepped forward to get a better look when, out the corner of my eye, I saw my father.

  200

  Responsibilities

  I had known it was possible I might run into my parents at the Wall; I even anticipated it to a certain degree. But when I saw my father help my mother out of the carriage, I stopped in my tracks.

  My feet remained anchored to the ground as I watched more familiar faces appear beside them: Jasmine, Helen, Durden, and Angela came into view one by one. The whole team still looked the same, though somehow incomplete without Adam.

  My parents and the Twin Horns all wore the same exhausted and grim expressions, which matched their ragged appea
rance as they trudged through the gates alongside their carriage.

  “Close the gates!” a soldier roared, and the towering gate rumbled to a close behind the last carriage.

  More and more workers were arriving to offload carriages. Some unhitched the beasts pulling the carriages and led them away to be fed while others lined up and began passing out the boxed supplies to be sorted.

  A soldier carrying a notebook began talking to the driver of the lead carriage. Imbuing mana into my ears, it was easy to hear their conversation even amidst the clamor.

  “There are two less carriages than what was reported to have left from Blackbend,” the soldier said gruffly.

  “We ran into a small team of Alacryan mages just a mile north of the southern border,” the driver said, taking off his dented and scraped helmet. “Lost two of my carriages to those bastards.”

  The guard looked behind the wiry driver, studying the carriages, and then let out a sharp breath. “After the carriages are unloaded and your men accounted for, come to the main tent. You’ll need to do a full debrief.”

  The driver didn’t wait, already beginning to shed his layers of battered armor, which he dropped unceremoniously to the ground before walking back to his carriage.

  The fact that the head of this expedition spoke of being attacked as if it was a common occurrence startled me; I had expected the Twin Horns’ guard duty to be relatively safe.

  Without another thought, I plowed my way through the crowd, knocking aside men twice my height and weight with ease, until I reached my parents. I experienced a moment of nerves as my eyes met theirs; we had reconciled, but my relationship with them was no longer as innocent as it once was.

  My mother’s mouth opened in surprise, and she looked like she was about to say something, but her weathered face melted into a soft smile.

  “Arthur!” my father called out, dropping the sack he had slung over his shoulder.

  I smiled back. “Hi, Mom. Hey, Dad.”

  My father wrapped his thick arms around me, lifting me off my feet. My mother patiently waited for my father to release his embrace before she, too, pulled me in for a hug.

  “It’s good to see you’re doing well,” she whispered, her face against my chest.

  She was covered in a layer of dust from their travels, and she probably hadn’t had a proper bath in a while, but she still gave off a familiar scent that smelled like… home.

  The Twin Horns came in next, unable to wait any longer. Durden took off his dirty cloak before giving me a hug. Helen and Angela squeezed me tightly, saying how much I had grown like aunts say to their nieces and nephews every time they visit.

  “You got bigger,” Jasmine muttered with a half-smile as she tousled my hair.

  “Are you sure you didn’t just get smaller?” I teased, pulling my old teacher and friend into a hug.

  After letting go of Jasmine, my body turned, expecting one more embrace—but it would never come. That’s when it hit me—that Adam was really gone. The rude, harsh, and often selfish spear-wielder of the Twin Horns would never shoot me that snide smile of his ever again.

  Gritting my teeth, I mustered another smile, and we left the workers and carriages behind, heading for the nearest inn.

  We found a large, decrepit house that had the audacity to put up a sign advertising itself as the most popular inn for miles just a few blocks away. Because the inn served as a restaurant and bar as well, it was packed with workers and soldiers looking for a drink or a hot meal while getting away from the biting cold, which only got worse as night fell.

  “It’s… it’s a L-Lance, in the flesh! Here at my inn! Oh my.” The owner of the inn, who happened to be working at the front desk, squirmed like a puppy as he tried to shake my hand, get our forms signed, and call a waiter for a table all at the same time.

  “I’m just looking for a quiet dinner and a room for my family and friends,” I said with a smile.

  “Of course, General Arthur! Jives, clear the patio seats upstairs! Hurry!” the old man barked at a surprised waiter.

  “Looks like there are some benefits in knowing you after all,” Helen chimed in, nudging me with an elbow.

  Durden looked back at the crowd of people currently waiting for a seat. “We probably would’ve had to wait for a while otherwise.”

  We were led up a flight of spiraling stairs to a balcony that faced away from the Wall. Even on this side, the small city-like camp was enclosed by curtain walls, obscuring the view of the outside world. Still, I enjoyed being able to see the busy flurry of people down below.

  There was a fire crackling in a metal furnace just beside our table for warmth and a plate of warm bread and some broth for us to start our meal with.

  “How have you been, Arthur?” my mother asked after we settled around the table.

  “I’ve been good,” I lied. It wasn’t as simple as that; so many things had happened since the last time we’d seen each other, but looking at my mother and father, I didn’t want to give them anything more to worry about.

  My mother had aged significantly since the last time we met. After the comfortable life she had led in Xyrus, being out on the road with the possible threat of death looming around every corner was clearly taking its toll on her.

  My father still cropped his hair short, but now also sported a full beard that covered most of his face. There were dark bags under his eyes, but he still had a lively expression.

  “I can’t even feel your core anymore, Arthur,” my father added. “How strong have you gotten?”

  “I hit white core not too long ago,” I smiled.

  Helen let out a whistle and Jasmine nodded in approval.

  My father smirked openly, looking from me to his friends. “My boy.”

  As the food came and we continued to talk, some of the weariness and fatigue fell away. My mother smiled more, playfully reprimanding my father when he made a crude joke—just like old times.

  It turned out that my parents still kept in touch with Ellie. It wasn’t as often as they wanted, but every time they got back to Blackbend City, they’d go out of their way to send a transmission to the castle.

  “Really?” I replied, taking a bite out of a piece of grilled fish. “Ellie never told me about that.”

  “Your sister is in her rebellious stage,” my father grumbled, shoving a hunk of broth-soaked bread in his mouth.

  “She just replies with ‘I’m okay’ or ‘I’m alive’ most of the time,” my mother added, her voice laced with worry. “She’s okay, right? She’s eating well? She’s making friends?”

  I set down my fork. “If you’re so concerned, why don’t you go visit the castle? I’m sure that’s what Ellie wants.”

  “Security into the castle has tightened recently. Only heads and above have access to the teleportation gates there, and even they can only go on official business,” Helen explained, wiping her mouth with a cloth.

  “I can take you myself. Sylvie’s not with me to fly us directly, but we can go to Blackbend together and make the jump to the castle,” I replied hopefully.

  My parents looked at each other for a moment before looking back at me. In a reassuring tone, my mother said, “A new mode of transportation is going to be built underground. Once that’s made, we’ll be able to visit you and Ellie much more often.”

  “That’s good and all, but I’ve heard reports that the journey from Blackbend is getting more and more dangerous. Ellie worries about you. I worry about you!”

  My mother nodded. “I know, and I don’t blame you for your worries, or your frustration, but we have our duties here—people that need our help.”

  “It’s not only your burden. There are other soldiers that can take your place.” My voice came out sharper than I had intended.

  There was a moment of silence, then Angela suddenly sprang up. “Oh dear. Helen, we never took our belongings out of the carriage!”

  Helen’s expression flowed from confusion, to realization, and finally to surp
rised worry. “Yeah, of course. Let’s get them before they get stolen. Come on, you two.”

  Helen and Angela ushered a confused Durden and irritated Jasmine away with them. Angela looked back and gave me a meaningful glance before disappearing.

  Whether the conjurer wanted to avoid the tension or just give our family some privacy, I didn’t know, but I was glad for the opportunity to have this conversation with my parents privately.

  “Arthur,” my mother said, breaking the silence. “Our responsibilities here may not be on the scale of what you do as a Lance, but we are still doing our part to win this war and send everyone home that much faster.”

  “You’re putting yourselves in danger,” I argued.

  “Everyone is in danger while Dicathen is at war,” my mother replied. “Even you, Arthur.”

  “Yes, but I can handle it,” I said angrily. I could feel my mana boiling just under the surface, eager to be unleashed, and I had to struggle to restrain it.

  My father slapped down his utensils on the table. “Do you realize how hypocritical you’re being?” he said, scolding me like a child. “So you’re saying it’s fine for you to put yourself in danger, as long as Ellie, Alice, and I are locked away someplace safe? Abandoning our responsibilities to our kingdom?”

  “I’m fighting this war to protect you, but I can’t be next to you all the time. What if something were to happen to you or Mom while I’m on a mission? Even Ellie… the whole reason she’s been so engrossed in training is because she wants to join you! What if she dies, too—like Adam?”

  “Enough, Arthur!” my father snapped. He got up from his seat and stared at me fiercely. “Keeping my family safe is my priority, but I also want my family to live happily. That’s why we’re doing this. Dicathen may not have been your only home, Arthur, but it’s the only home that we know, and if that means dying so that Ellie can live in a better future, then so be it.”

  My father stormed off and my mother followed. She looked back at me solemnly but didn’t say anything.