by Sever Bronny
He resumed pacing, hand waving idly. “The rest was a logistical scramble, but a solvable one nonetheless. And sure, I could have planted a devious trap and put everyone to the question in search of this specific ritual, which has thus far eluded me … or I could take the high road, so to speak, and offer—” He stopped to stand behind his glaring son once more. “—parlay. A grand bargain. A mutually beneficial agreement. Luckily, I had a means for that parlay.” He pressed his hands against his son’s shoulders and gave them a double tap. “My own son here, my pride and joy and the heir to the empire, was due to advance. The ceremony would have been the grandest in all of Canterra. Instead, he gracefully allowed me to rush it in this rather ill-fitting location, an entire tenday early.”
“It was my honor to sacrifice my vanity for the empire, Father,” Gavinius said.
“And I thank you for that sacri—” He ceased, suddenly overcome by another vicious coughing attack. But he stayed the servants and once more dabbed at his lips with a cloth, taking his time doing so.
“As I was saying, I thank you for your sacrifice, my loyal son.” Sepherin put away the cloth. “In truth, I do not believe trapping you fugitives and putting you all to the question would have worked—not because you would not have broken under the questioning, and I assure you that you would have—but simply because, from my understanding, the only one who can successfully open the portal to Ley using that particular ancient ritual …” He leveled his gaze at Augum. “… is an Arcaner.”
Augum steeled his jaw. “You want to use us to get into Ley.”
But Sepherin surprised him. “Ah, many a man has thought himself ready to enter the realm of knowledge only to find himself … unprepared. Look to your former father, for example.”
Interestingly, by using the word former, the emperor revealed that he did not know that Augum had accepted the Lord of the Legion as his father once and for all. That also meant that he did not know that Augum could command the Legion’s old weapons and armor, nor did he know that Jez and The Grizzly had stolen the Legion’s old suits of Dreadnought armor from the Royal Armory.
“No, there is still too much to be done before one such as I am permitted to ascend to the higher plane,” the emperor said cryptically.
“But you intend on ascending to that plane in the end, don’t you?” Augum pressed. “And sooner than later, because you’re dying.”
Everyone at the table froze. Gavinius’s goatee quivered with rage and his eyes bulged so much they threatened to pop out of his brutish skull.
The emperor did not miss a beat as he glanced at the girls. “Careful, my young adversary, lest your tongue run afoul of my good graces.” His golden eyes lingered on them before he strolled over to inspect his line of Path Archons.
Meanwhile, Augum met Gavinius’s rabid glare. He was starting to understand the Canterran plan … and he vowed to do everything in his power to stop it from unfolding.
“I asked myself, what does the sacred balance demand?” the emperor went on, removing a stray hair from a Path Archon’s shoulder. “At its core, a new era—a Third Great Peace. An era when arcanery is more tightly controlled for the safety of all. An era when The Path governs morality, ensuring stability. An era when women do not get to plead innocence from the gains of war, are forced to abide by standards of decency, and finally and once and for all admit that it is the men of the kingdoms who have bled on the field of battle, having thus won the right to govern.”
The women on Augum’s side stirred, some surely wanting to speak up, but the emperor held up a finger in warning and continued.
“And an era when Arcaners are held accountable, their powers checked, for as history has proven, they are as susceptible to corruption as any other entity. Countless lives have been lost to Arcaner infighting.” He opened his hands as if weighing a scale. “The entity splits into factions, one side takes affront from some perceived wrong, and all of a sudden—” One hand dropped while the other rose. “—whole cities are leveled and you have hundreds of thousands of dead. There is no balance in that sort of existence. Only chaos.”
The emperor sighed as he dropped his hands. “Alas, the Sacred Balance also demands a fair fight, a fight I welcome—and one Arcaners should too, considering their own code demands they never turn their backs on a foe. But if we continue down the current road, which is destined to repeat history, Arcaners will once again return to corruption, dragons will run amok, and entire cities will be leveled. Right now, Arcaners argue they must destroy the siege engine—” He glanced over at Katrina, who straightened with pride. “—but that very siege engine will ensure the dawn of The Third Great Peace. So what to do?” The emperor’s gaze wandered to Bridget and Leera. “After all, we know that even should Dragoon Stone perish, others would take his place—”
The girls nodded in a We absolutely would manner.
“—if not now, then at some point in the future, ensuring continued chaos and imbalance.” The emperor straightened the collar of one of his Archons. “Sithesia deserves an ever-lasting peace, a Sacred Balance governed by the just. I now know that only I can ensure that peace. Only I can ensure a … just … empire. Yes, it will cost lives, but in the end the Sacred Balance will prove my methods sound. That is why I worked harder than ever before. So diligently, in fact, that it has cost me my health. I brought all my knowledge and focus—” He drew his fists to his chest. “—to bear on the most difficult task imaginable—building a force that will ensure my siege engine survives, so it may at last bring about The Third Great Peace.”
Emperor Samuel stepped back to admire his Path Archons as a whole. My work …” He brought a fist to his lips, choking up. “My beautiful work bore fruit. Behold—” He opened his arms invitingly. In turn, the twenty Path Archons who stood before him summoned jet-black arm rings and shields. Depicted on those crest-shaped shields was a crimson castle … and written underneath was a crimson motto.
Augum and his companions shot to their feet, mouths gaping.
Emperor Samuel Sepherin had somehow succeeded in creating his own twisted version of Arcaners.
A Turn of the Tables
Gavinius slowly stood, adjusted his oak and acorn garland, and strode over to take his place with The Path Archons, flashing his shield and arm rings to match the others. The castle on their shields was foreboding, as if haunted, and the words were unfamiliar.
Augum now realized why Gavinius had not summoned his shield during their duel—he had been toying with him.
“Loyaltos fidelema ruthergara,” the emperor solemnly read from the shields. “Loyalty, faith, ruthlessness.” He turned to enjoy Augum’s stunned expression. “A perfect balancing counterargument, do you not agree?”
“How is this possible?” Augum blurted.
“A wonderful question, one I shall gladly answer. I spoke a little of this earlier, but when you, Dragoon Stone, first declared on becoming an Arcaner, I assigned a few arcaneologists to perform research. I admit that initially I assumed nothing would come of it. But then, as your power grew—for example, when you bared your Arcaner shield before the entire Black Arena crowd—I began to ask myself a series of questions, the most pointed of which was, what if our bold young upstart decided to follow his Arcaner ancestors … and summon dragons? If I were in his shoes and a siege engine resurfaced, I certainly would look into how it was defeated the first time around—I think any Arcaner would. My next question, therefore, was could such a mythic quest be used to Canterra’s benefit? Alas, when you took key hostages and locked yourselves in the academy, I had a hunch as to what you would do next, which was concoct a plan to get to Ley, which would in turn—historically speaking, that is—require a trip to the Seers of the North. And if you succeeded, my engine would be destroyed.”
Augum noticed Katrina pursing her lips, telling him that she thought of the engine as hers and no one else’s.
“Alas, you did not spring the trap waiting for you, and you slipped through the clutches of those
searching for you.”
Katrina stiffened but said nothing.
The emperor pressed his fingertips together. “But malleability is a necessity in trying times. While you were sequestered in the academy, I came up with a bold plan of my own. I summoned all of my focus—and if there is genius within me it is in this regard—to craft an entire order from nothing but scraps of history.” Sepherin raised a studious finger. “Ah, but this order was to be a balance to Arcaners, and thus it had to follow the arcane laws of perpendicularity. For example, the first edict of the Sacred Code of The Path Archon is—” He opened his palms at his white-robed flock.
“Thou shall feel free to refuse a challenge from anyone,” they dutifully chorused in a booming voice.
Sepherin smiled proudly. “And the second is …?”
“Thou shall turn thy back on a foe with pleasure.”
“And the rest, if you will, my loyal charges.”
And so they solemnly chorused the remainder.
Thou shall show thy stripes before thine enemy if it serves thine ends.
Thou shall duel the lower ranks if it be in thine interests.
Thou shall treat those unable to learn the craft as imbeciles.
Thou shall take the life of a weaponless Ordinary if it serves thine interests.
Thou shall accept a bent knee only if thou feels the need to.
Thou shall give no favor to widows and orphans and beggars.
Thou shall accept pecuniary reward for doing thy duty.
Thou shall fight for the welfare of the strongest.
Thou shall guard the honor of the arcane craft.
Thou shall seek knowledge that contributes to the craft.
Thou shall preserve and honor the Hallowed Trust.
Thou shall never break thy word when speaking to thy lord.
Thou shall serve thy lord fiercely and to the death.
Thou shall swear fealty to this code of honor, for it is the war ye are locked in from this moment on.
Sepherin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the ringing silence that followed. “The shield will only dim when certain loyalties I deem necessary are broken. And if you will permit me to be abstruse a moment, some historical edicts had to remain as foundational context points, elsewise the entire core arcane signature would have strayed beyond the perpendicularity allowance, well into asymmetric imbalance, thus resulting in an imperfect match—think a key unable to fit into the lock it was designed for.”
“Meaning your cursed Path Archons would be prevented from stepping through the portal without those core principles,” Leera said in a clear voice, standing with one hand balled into a fist and the other pressed reassuringly on Bridget’s shoulder.
The remark drew hisses from the table and surprised looks from the companions. Due to her diligent studies with the Spectral Teleport extension, Leera had not only fully understood what Sepherin had said, but replied to it—and made a fair point!
The Canterrans muttered things like, “The little woman dares to presume to understand His Royal Highness,” and “Impertinent witch,” and “She needs a good thrashing,” the last from Katrina, who had said it to the Lord High Steward. Gavinius’s own fists had balled where he stood in line, and he looked ready to lunge at Leera.
But Leera only adjusted her spectacles, a hand flipping questioningly at the emperor. “And you didn’t perform this complex structuring—is that the right word, structuring? I think it is. Anyway, yeah, you didn’t perform this structuring just to be a simple counter to the Arcaner code of honor, did you? You want something from us, something more.”
“You try the sacred bounds of the Hallowed Trust,” the emperor hissed through gritted teeth, eyes closed.
The Canterrans sounded off again.
“We shall quarter and hang them upon next capture, Your Highness.”
“They make near-term gains for long-term sorrows.”
“Do not interrupt His Emperorship again, insolent wench.”
To the last, spoken by the emperor’s son, Leera pressed her knuckles into the table as she leaned forward. “You will respect the Hallowed Trust. We will not be silenced.”
Unlike Darby, who had spoken out of turn with his father at the last meeting Augum had attended—and was heavily rebuked for it—this son received no such lambasting.
The two sides glared at each other. The emperor broke the impasse by raising his face skyward. “Unsurprisingly, the obtuse girl does not appreciate the achievement. To say that it was the most difficult endeavor of my life would be a significant understatement. Like a juggler, I had to navigate myriad complexities, balance historical contexts, as well as dense arcaneological principles. I have created history. I have truly contributed to the arcane craft, perhaps even advanced it.”
He took another deep breath, savoring his accomplishment, before placing his hands behind his back and sweeping his gaze along his line of newly minted warlock troops. “Yes, we lost quite a few brave souls to the early experiments, which were running at all hours of the night and day. And of course, we had to create challenges that mirrored Arcaner challenges of old—though precious little knowledge exists on how these had been constructed. When passed, these challenges allowed advancement from squire to archon and, with any luck—” He nodded at Augum.
“—to dragon,” Augum murmured.
“Quite right. Alas, despite throwing all my creative efforts into constructing an entire order, my loyal troops only have two real additional powers to show for it at this time, but we hope to change that with deep and diligent arcaneological study.”
“I think we understand,” Leera said, folding her arms and nodding. “You’re going after the necromantic dragons, aren’t you? Dragons that can only be controlled by wielding a corrupted code of honor—a perpendicular one.”
“You will address His Highness with his title, you barbarous heathen!” one of the elder Canterrans hissed.
But the emperor, perhaps enjoying the academic talk over stifling formalities, ignored him. “Correct, young lady. Unfortunately our actual necromantic knowledge is rather crude, parceled together from texts, some of which Dragoon Stone’s former father left behind. The spells were another undertaking altogether, and only one of the apprentices actually managed to gain any serious competence.”
Gavinius raised his goateed chin with imperious pride.
“But with continued training and research, the necromantic craft will blossom in due time. What matters is that we secure a way to fight Arcaners on equal footing. Yes, that admittedly requires using rather unsavory means, but the ends will be justified—a Great Peace is worth the price. Any price.”
Augum welcomed the opportunity to fight on equal footing. “But you can’t get into Ley yourself without an Arcaner casting the portal,” he countered. “Otherwise you would have robbed us of the ritual scroll and conducted it yourself.”
“Also correct, and hence we come to our great bargain.” The emperor flicked a finger and The Path Archons extinguished their shields. He and his son then returned to their places at the table and the companions reluctantly sat back down.
Bridget’s head still hung low, though she had composed herself enough to sit quietly. Augum hoped she would regain her confidence and get back in the fight.
Emperor Samuel brought his hands together. “So, in the spirit of the Hallowed Trust, let us put aside our petty squabbles and bargain on what matters. Lord High Steward—if you please.”
The Lord High Steward flashed his weasel smile and inclined his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. His Grace offers the following terms. You will perform the ritual as you would have before, but you will allow our Path Archons entry alongside your Arcaners. Once in Ley, the hostilities between the two sides will cease. Further, The Path Archons will be allowed to present an argument to the Leyans to gain the same dragon-summoning knowledge as Arcaners so that the Sacred Balance can be brought to bear and, in turn, a new era—that of The Third Great Peace. Lastl
y, you will hand over His Royal Highness Prince Darby Sepherin, the esteemed Count Von Edgeworth, and the Dreadnought known as Esha the Ancient One.”
Augum scoffed. “And in return?”
“In return, the rest of your group, those who are not Arcaners, shall be permitted to walk free.”
The companions could not help but laugh—albeit uneasily.
But Augum had something to say. Examples would have to be set. Treachery of the Lord High Steward’s sort was inexcusable. And so he stared at the weasel and steeled his voice. “When this is all done and Solia is free of the scourge that has plagued it, you, Lord High Steward, will hang from the gates of the Black Castle for all to see … as the traitor that you are.”
This time the Canterrans at the table laughed, as did the Lord High Steward, except his laughter was strained as he shrank slightly from Augum’s iron gaze, perhaps knowing that he and the girls had deposed the most powerful necromancer since Occulus and, as such, their threats were not to be taken lightly.
Augum raised his voice over the laughter. “But you will not be the only one swinging from that rope, Lord High Steward. Those who helped you will be by your side.” We are at war, sir, and you chose the wrong side.
The laughter strengthened, except this time the Lord High Steward only swallowed. “You reject our terms?” he managed to gibber when the laughter subsided.
Augum slapped the table, making the dishes clatter. “Absolutely! That wasn’t a serious offer, it was a slap in our faces, and you know it.”
“Then what do you propose?” the Lord High Steward asked, glancing over at the emperor in a way that suggested he thought them poor negotiators, something Augum did not necessarily disagree with, having never had to negotiate things of this nature.
“A quarter million Solian lives,” Bridget blurted, raising her head to stare at the Lord High Steward. “To be precise, two hundred fifty-one thousand, three hundred fifty-five lives—and not a soul less.” She pressed her palms to the table. “And that’s accounting for those you have already murdered, meaning you would owe us lives. I’m not finished—!” she roared when some of the older Canterrans began chortling, startling and silencing them while glaring at the weasel steward. “And for you to forever renege on your pledge to equalize the deaths of men by murdering an equal number of women.”