Mythborn III: Dark Ascension (Fate of the Sovereign Book 3)

by V. Lakshman

  “I’ve seen them,” Arek said.

  Azrael nodded, “Our work is only beginning, Adept. Rise now from your slumber,” and the glint of a smile played across the Aeris lord’s face, “and join me as one.”

  There was another blinding flash, a sudden whump shaking his bones, then he could feel the power of Ascension envelop him.

  “You will be stronger than you ever were,” Azrael intoned, “and I shall protect thee to my last breath.”

  Arek looked up into the light and said, “I accept your gift, Master.”

  * * * * *

  He awoke not remembering when he’d risen and moved. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but found himself staring, drinking in Yetteje’s simple beauty. She looked so peaceful, and despite her proven courage and skill, fragile. He looked over at Brianna, who was suddenly there and ministering to the princess.

  She nodded in response to his concerned look and said, “She’ll be okay. Give me a moment.”

  He turned to his father and inspected the torc. A brief tug told him what he already knew, that with the blackfire gone neither he nor anyone he knew in Arcadia could take it off.

  His father must’ve known it too, for he just shook his head and in a soft voice filled with more pain than humor said, “Now I really hate the Galadines.” He eyed his son and added, “And that’s saying a lot.” The comment elicited a soft chuckle from both, then Arek collapsed.

  When he’d regained consciousness, Brianna was hovering over him like a giant mother, the look of concern telling him he’d come closer to death than he thought.

  “What happened?” he asked, his tongue feeling thick. He was so thirsty. How long had he been . . . then his encounter with Azrael came flooding back into his awareness, along with his newfound rank of Adept, one he’d finally and truly earned.

  Brianna didn’t answer. Instead, she gave him a canteen from which she pulled a tube, showing him how to sip on it. While he drank she took out a salve and rubbed it into his still bleeding wounds. Then she touched her finger to the wound and looked at the back of her hand, where an image had formed.

  Arek flinched, hissing through clenched teeth as she probed none-to-gently with a giant finger. That it fit inside concerned him more than he cared to admit, but the cool water assuaged almost every other discomfort he had. He dimly felt her pull the canteen away.

  “You’re bleeding on the inside,” said Ash, also looking at the image, his demeanor exuding confidence in his diagnosis.

  “How would you know?” mumbled Arek, a little annoyed at the firstmark’s unasked-for opinion and the fact that he couldn’t see what was displayed on Brianna’s hand.

  “From this angle, there’s not much you can’t see. She opened you up like she was stuffing a bird,” the firstmark commented dryly, but then seemed to hear his own words and added, “but you adepts are hard to kill.”

  “I got it, Firstmark,” Brianna said. “Maybe less bedside help here.”

  She played her finger around just outside the gaping wound to see the injury from different directions, every move eliciting a new curse from Arek. Brianna tapped a few things on her hand, then pulled her finger away and did the same to the smaller wounds on his chest.

  Finally she checked his jaw and mouth, saying, “The slice in your side is sealing, so hold still. A few enchs up or down and no one could’ve saved you. The rest of your wounds are less serious but we’ll watch for infection. And they’ll probably hurt a lot given the damage to the surrounding tissue. Don’t move suddenly and you’ll heal fine.”

  Arek didn’t have the strength to nod. It seemed any energy he had was focusing itself on mending him. He just lay there watching Ash.

  The firstmark looked around, his eyes finally resting on Duncan, and said, “You’re still under arrest.”

  Duncan rolled his eyes and said, “I was beginning to doubt your commitment.”

  Brianna turned her attention to Duncan’s leg. The feather blade had serrated edges that curved back. The only viable way of extracting the quill was to cut it flush to the entry point at the skin, then pull the rest through.

  The healer looked at Arek and said, “I’m going to have to sedate him. This is going to hurt.”

  A snore told them that Duncan had already begun the process of self-sedation. Brianna smiled and pulled out what Arek had come to think of as an injector, measuring a liquid and pressing it into Duncan’s thigh near the wound.

  While she worked, Arek looked at his companions and said, “I owe you all thanks. I would’ve been killed without your help.” His voice came out stronger, the water or the salve doing something to help him recuperate, but most of his healing now seemed to be coming from his Ascension. He could feel his body reknitting, becoming stronger with each passing moment.

  The dwarven healer pointedly ignored that comment, but Ash gave him a lopsided grin and said, “I’ve never had a quarrel with you, and I’ll not lay the sins of your father on your head.”

  Then his tone grew serious, “I meant what I said, though. We’re allies, but Duncan needs to answer for what he did.” Then he nodded toward the unconscious form of the princess and said, “I’ve seen you looking at her. Imagine the torture she must be going through liking you, then knowing your father killed hers.”

  Arek wasn’t sure what to say. “Y-you think she likes me?” he stammered.

  The firstmark shook his head and smiled, then laid a hand on Arek’s shoulder. “Maybe, but I’m in charge of her safety. Don’t make me choose between you,” Ash looked at him until he nodded. “Because I’ll choose the princess every time.”

  An explosion from below made the group look at the opening leading down into Avalyon as more and more smoke billowed through, looking like black cotton laced with orange fire.

  “How soon before we can get moving? From the sound of it, the Furies are almost here.”

  “Furies?” Arek asked, surprised.

  The firstmark nodded. “Kisan said Lilyth used us as a distraction. Not sure if she wants anyone leaving here alive and I don’t want to stay to find out.”

  Arek pondered this, wiping his bloody mouth again and wincing. Every part of him hurt. He spat more blood, then looked at Brianna.

  At his unasked question she said, “He’ll be able to walk, but the torc is blocking the patch from working fully. I’ll remove the blade and seal the wound in a moment. Luckily, it seems to have gone through muscle so the bleeding should be controllable. I have a few more things to deal with, then we can move. Light travel”—she caught his look and sighed—“if possible.”

  “Work fast,” Arek mumbled through a swollen jaw, “we don’t have a lot of time.” Then he got up, holding his side, and limped over to Kisan’s body.

  Ash limped over too, looking down on her. “She was hard to like, and hard not to. What I can’t figure out is, how did you break her composure?”

  When Arek looked at him the firstmark added, “I mean, even if you were right, she didn’t seem the type to get flustered.”

  Arek breathed in, then out again, feeling the steadiness of Silbane and Azrael envelop him. He could remember everything. Did all Adepts have this ability too? He turned his attention to the firstmark’s question. Ash didn’t understand, he couldn’t know, what these past days had been like for anyone from the Isle, much less Kisan.

  He looked at Ash and said, “We’re a family, more than you’d think given how we’ve acted these past few days. Before me, Silbane was Kisan’s master, and just as much as for me, her teacher and friend. She saw a son killed, and she killed the only man to ever have sheltered her. Kisan felt the deaths of so many, the only family she’d ever known.”

  He took a breath, his eyes blurring with tears as he looked down at her shattered form, bloody everywhere except her face. She looked asleep, but Arek’s Sight told him better. No particles, nothing stirred in or around her. She was an empty shell, a visible memory of something almost perfect, but tragically broken.

 
“Piter and I were like brothers. We fought, but we had good times too, many more than bad. He and I grew up together. If Silbane was my father and Thera my mother, Kisan was an older sister. I think . . . she did and didn’t want to kill me. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  He wiped tears away, taking another shuddering breath, feeling an ache in the back of his throat. Ash probably didn’t recognize or care what Piter, Thera, Themun, Silbane, or Kisan truly meant to him, and it didn’t matter. In his heart, he thought he knew why her cut hadn’t killed him. The warm hand of the firstmark came to rest on the back of his neck, squeezing in a reassuring but unintrusive way.

  Ash said, “I didn’t know her the way you did, but I wish I had. Silbane certainly held her in high regard, and I found his judgment to be sound.”

  Arek wiped his face and looked at Ash saying, “Silbane loved her as much as he did me. He thought she was worth saving.” He was quiet for a moment, then added, “He thought everyone was.”

  “Some people find meaning in all those they help,” said the firstmark softly.

  Arek didn’t reply, he just nodded, thinking about his masters. He took another deep, cleansing breath, needing something to take his mind away. His eyes found Brianna.

  The dwarven healer nodded, “The blade is out. His hand and other wounds are tended to. You gave him something to sleep”—she corrected herself—“actually, I doubt we could have stopped him from passing out. But he’s resting. We can go.”

  “Where?” asked Ash.

  Arek’s visage grew dark. “I think I want to pay my ‘mother’ a visit. See what all this was about.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but there’s nothing protecting you, is there? I mean that ‘blackfire’ you had is gone. Why wouldn’t Lilyth just kill you? We should prioritize finding a way to leave Arcadia,” Ash said.

  “Either she or Sonya knows how to escape Arcadia,” replied Arek obdurately, “and I’m going to get some answers.” Something about him must have truly changed, perhaps his voice, or the steadiness in his eyes. He watched the firstmark search him for doubt, then nod as if Arek had issued a command.

  “Okay, lead on, but we have to move quickly. Whatever’s coming up doesn’t sound like it wants to talk, and I’m not in the mood for another fight.”

  Arek agreed, saying, “Agreed. The only gate I know of is in Olympious. I think we head there.” He took a breath, already feeling better, like a knot in his side had loosened. If an ench was anything close to a finger’s breadth, it reinforced for him Kisan’s last act as mercy.

  Brianna broke his reverie by saying, “If we recover my capsule, that box I was sleeping in, it might help.”

  “How?” asked Arek, but not to challenge her. The woman had proven herself loyal, staying when she could have left and ultimately saving Arek’s life.

  “I have instruments that may help us locate a way out of Arcadia,” she replied. “I also may be able to glean more understanding of all this,” she said, her gaze somehow taking in the entire world around them.

  Just then Yetteje moaned, shaking her head. One hand rose carefully to touch her scalp and the knot from the pommel of Arek’s sword.

  “Leave it,” Brianna said, coming close. She applied a salve and then touched a few symbols on her arm, “it’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll be fine.”

  “How do we find this . . . kapsool?” asked the firstmark.

  Brianna propped Yetteje up, inspecting her wound more closely and then adding a patch to the princess’s neck. Then she rose and tapped her forearm, which in response lit up with unfamiliar symbols. She traced a few, causing a dial to come up with an arrow on it. She came over to them and held her arm horizontally so they could all see.

  “This points to the location, and this tells me the distance,” she explained, pointing to an arrow and a series of symbols below it glowing on her skin. As she turned the arrow circumscribed an arc, always pointing in the same direction, like a lodestone.

  Arek nodded, then changed form. He looked at the firstmark, asking in a voice tinged with concern, “Flying is our only way out. Are you going to make it?”

  Ash changed, his form once again armored in silver edged with blue. He met Arek’s clear gaze with one of his own and smiled, “Do you feel any different since the change?”

  Arek nodded and said, “Something about the process gave me a part of my master. I can’t explain it—but yes, I feel different.”

  Ash nodded at that. “Me too, and something gave me a part of Orion. The prospect of flying no longer completely terrifies me”—he held up a hand—“but I still won’t be choosing it unless absolutely necessary.”

  Arek looked at him then and asked, “Do you want to carry your prisoner?”

  The firstmark shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We need them both.” By that Arek assumed he meant Duncan and Brianna.

  Arek swallowed, realizing that meant he could carry Tej. He smiled, but his eyes fell upon his master’s body and a hot flush came to his face. He moved over and carefully gathered him up, carrying him gently back to the group. He didn’t say anything, but everyone seemed to understand he would be taking Silbane’s body along as well.

  The group was solemn as they gathered themselves, with Ash taking Duncan, and Arek carrying the body of Silbane cradled in his massive arms. Brianna helped Yetteje to her feet, and soon the group ascended the spiral platform that led to the very top, looking over the orange horizon that stretched as far as their eyes could see.

  “I can’t believe this place is going to be gone,” whispered Arek.

  “The nephilim are multiplying like a disease,” said Brianna. “It won’t be long before the realm is overrun.”

  “Multiplicity,” Arek said, understanding clearly what Brianna meant. Silbane had shown him once how doubling a single grain of rice on a kingsboard would equal more rice than could be held in an entire kingdom by the sixty-fourth square.

  “It’s called, ‘exponentially,’” offered Yetteje, her tongue sounding thick in her mouth to Arek. He knew how that felt, and gave her a smile of sympathy.

  “Glad you could join us. Are you okay?” he asked.

  The princess regarded them all, then said, “I feel tossed around and battered; everything hurts. What happened?” Another explosion rocked the hall and soldiers could now be heard, their armor and marching steps ascending. “Lilyth’s forces aren’t far.”

  “And the nephilim?” asked Brianna.

  “They’re going to be a problem, too,” Yetteje answered.

  “She’s right,” said Ash. “Do you think they’ll invade Edyn?”

  Arek was quiet, considering all he’d learned. Then he looked at the others and said, “I wouldn’t bet on anything.” He looked out over the clouds and said, “Once they’ve consumed everything here . . .” He trailed off, thinking of his master and Kisan again. How would he live up to their conflicting philosophies?

  “They might die off,” Brianna completed for him, “like a disease that’s run its course.”

  “Let’s hope so,” said Yetteje after Arek didn’t answer, sounding unconvinced. She moved closer to Arek and nudged him.

  Ash had Brianna secure Duncan first, then scooped her up so that he only had to manage her. She would look after the unconscious red mage.

  Arek, still silent in thought, walked to the edge of the dome holding Silbane and made a crook in his arm for Yetteje. Once she was secure, he looked at Ash and nodded, then leapt into the dusk sky. His wings caught and held the air and he felt the heady rush of speed but none of the apprehension he’d felt when carried by either Rai’stahn or Helios.

  There was a difference, he noted, when you were in control rather than riding as passenger. He thought back to the dragon ride, marveling at how far he’d come from that day.

  He circled, then fell in behind Ash as the firstmark leapt off the dome. Ash’s gaze was firmly fixed on the horizon, neither looking down at the sea of clouds nor to the various islands
floating in the distance. Whether or not the man would ever truly appreciate the open skies was questionable, but at least he was no longer panicking. Arek smiled at that, wondering what awaited them at Brianna’s tomb.

  “There,” yelled Brianna from Ash’s arms, pointing.

  Arek followed her finger, then let the firstmark take the lead. They arrowed off in an echelon, hoping they could find a way out of Arcadia before this world was consumed.

  * * * * *

  Alion Deft walked into the throne room as her troops fanned out looking for survivors. They found none. Elves were stabbed where they lay to ensure they were truly dead, but Kisan’s body was left alone. She was Ascended, and as such protected even in death by the Aeris she’d bonded with. Incurring that being’s wrath would endanger what looked to be an otherwise stunningly positive outcome for the Lady’s forces. Still, it was a shame to waste such flesh, the undead magehunter thought with regret.

  She looked up and watched two winged Ascended dive out of sight. They carried at least two others, maybe more. Survivors, but not for long. One of her men came to report, and a smile spread across her ruined face.

  “My lady,” she said into the air.

  Lilyth’s face formed before her, a projection as insubstantial as a shade, but it allowed them to speak. “Yes?”

  “Some escaped.”

  “Do you know who?”

  Alion motioned to her aide, who said something and pointed. The queensmark turned back to her Lady and said, “Judging by who is missing, only a few. We saw two Ascended fleeing. They have nowhere to go.” The undead magehunter said this without emotion, though her freedom still rested upon killing Duncan.

  “And the rest?”

  “The Galadine archangels and the elves of Avalyon are all dead. So is the master, Kisan Talaris. Also . . .” the magehunter paused, “Valarius’s body, or what’s left of it, has been found. There’s not much left, but enough to know this was a body smashed to a pulp.”