by Franc Ingram
Leith nodded. "We both proved men of our word."
The Elevated ushered the Caledonians up the steps. Many of them huddled together, scared of what might be coming next. When they caught sight of Leith they rushed forward, tears washing away the dirt on their faces.
"It's going to be all right," Daycia soothed. "We're going to get you home. Just follow Zyair to the boats. Take your time. Don't rush."
Zyair led the group out, Daycia and Leith hanging around the back. They reached outside the city limits when Leith saw Jonathan running toward him, two Elevated men behind him.
"She's gone," Jonathan hissed.
"What?" Marcum and Leith asked at the same time.
"Someone broke Emmaray out. The guards were knocked unconscious."
One of the Elevated, a single ring in his ear, cut in. "The tracks have them heading toward the north shore."
Leith looked at Marcum. "Most of our canoes are anchored there."
"We go after her," Leith said.
Marcum led the way. Daycia tried to keep up but she urged them forward without her. It didn't matter because by the time Leith reached the shore all he saw was the faint outline of three sails in the distance.
"She abandoned us," Marcum said, his tone betraying his hurt for the first time.
Leith didn't know what to say. He didn't understand why Marcum was so upset. The people of Gaeth were now free of Emmaray's oppression. From all angles that seemed like a good thing to him.
Daycia caught up, beads of sweat on her face, skin red and blotchy. She had to lean against Leith to keep from falling over. "I'm sorry," Daycia said. "My mother was never good at showing appreciation for the good things in her life."
Marcum and Daycia stared at each other, sharing something Leith would never understand. Despite her strict ways, Emmaray had the love of her people. At the first sign of trouble, she deserted them without a single look back.
"I'm staying here," Daycia stated with the same soothing tone she'd used with the freed slaves. "I can help keep things stable in her absence and keep an eye on those who need time to heal."
Leith narrowed his eyes at Marcum then looked at Daycia. "Sure you be safe?"
"I'm Daycia, first daughter of Gaeth, I'll be fine."
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: REUNION
Once all of the yetis and Gaeth leftovers were rounded up, Oleana started the search for Cornelius' body. She didn't know why, but she knew her nightmares about him wouldn't fade until she stood over his lifeless form.
"Your men did well," Fabian complemented as he walked beside her.
Oleana nodded, too focused on her task to worry about having whatever self-congratulatory chat Fabian was after. She looked up to the cliffs she'd waged her battle on, checking to see if her positioning was right. The wind had been strong and the drop considerable but Oleana knew Cornelius' body couldn't have fallen too far away.
"Since our task is completed far better than I had expected, I'll hold up my end of the bargain."
That triggered one of Lorn's memories, but Oleana quickly brushed it aside. It was something for Lorn to sort out once they were back in their proper places, but Oleana wouldn't let go of this body until Cornelius was found.
The rocky banks of the river crunched under Oleana's feet, still partially frozen from the ice storm that she'd inadvertently unleashed. She wondered if maybe Cornelius could have been ejected off the ridge hard enough to land him in the river. Then his body would have been swept away by the current. With the knowledge Oleana gained from The Twelve, she could have calculated the likelihood of that outcome if Fabian would have given her two minutes to think.
"Lorn," Tycho yelled.
Oleana turned to see her old friend jogging toward her, his cousin Mason beside him. The two of them showed the signs of battle. Their once fresh armor was now covered with gouges and dents. Tycho was missing an armguard and his forearm was still bleeding from a nasty looking cut. Mason's left eye was swollen shut and he had slash marks across his neck that looked distinctly yeti made.
As soon as Tycho was in reach Oleana grabbed his hand, holding his injured arm up to get a good look at the cut. "By The Twelve Tycho you need to get this cleaned and wrapped."
Tycho shrugged it off, "Some of the Elevated and yeti got away. It looked like they were carrying Cornelius."
"Ugh," Oleana complained. "Not again. I can't let him get away. Can't let him haunt us again."
"Which way did they go?" Fabian asked.
"They were headed north," Mason replied.
"Toward Mount Elmire," Oleana added.
"What do we do now?" Tycho asked.
"We burn that place to the ground if we have to."
Fabian pulled back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I have a hundred prisoners to deal with and wounded soldiers to get back to their homes. I can't just jaunt off to Arismas."
"Are you kidding me?" Oleana snapped. "Not five seconds ago you were praising us for doing a good job and agreeing to keep your promise."
"And after some time to recuperate if you still need my help, I'll gladly give it to you." Fabian looked around at the aftermath of battle. "Besides, Cornelius is surely dead after that fall. What will chasing after his corpse do?"
Oleana grabbed Fabian by his collar. "For a century now I've fought against that...thing. Fought and died. I won't stop until I know for sure he's defeated. We're going to Elmire. Just think about this, how well do you think you will fair if we're defeated and you're left on your own to face him?" Oleana dropped Fabian and turned to Tycho. "Put it to the troops, and whoever thinks they have enough fight in them for another round needs to get ready to go."
"Yes sire," Tycho said shooting off a salute.
"Oh and get that arm checked out before you lose it," Oleana added remembering her own lost limb.
Tycho nodded before turning to make his way around to his people. Fabian stood there fussing over his crumpled clothes, looking indignant. Oleana walked past him, shaking her head. She needed to find a quiet place to sit down. It was time to reconnect with the others.
01100111
Back in the void space, Oleana was able to take a moment to relax and think about all that she'd accomplished. Cornelius was dead. No matter how many times she replayed the thought in her head it didn't feel real.
The Ice Ultra was a dark cloud that had hung over her life from the beginning. Oleana didn't know what a life without him was even supposed to look like. Still she didn't have his body and Cornelius had a bad habit of popping back up when he was least expected. Oleana had to track the Elevated down and be sure the job was finished, for her sanity’s sake.
Leith materialized in front of her, pulling Oleana out of her worries. The digital representation of him was changed from the last time she saw him. She could see through him to the smart particles dancing under his skin. They were all running in neat rows, moving at superspeed. Leith was vibrating with power.
Before she could mention it Lysander and Lorn showed up drawing attention as they swept in. They too were glowing with new found energy. Whatever struggles they'd gone through had changed them for the better. Oleana realized they were now all true masters of their abilities.
As soon as the four of them were altogether a low-level pulse of electricity passed through the group, strengthening the bonds between them. Oleana got flashes of what the others had experienced while they were all swapped. She couldn't hold onto the finer details, but she got the big picture of all the victories they'd achieved. It was thrilling and scary all at once.
Lorn reached out and clasped her hand in his and Oleana had no choice but to relax. From the first day she ran into him on a dirty street, Lorn had the ability to calm her. He was the light of her life and no matter what else changed between them, that was her one constant.
"Cornelius is dead and the Elevated are scattered," Oleana whispered, needing to voice all that she had accomplished. Only then could she start to process the new reality that they now lived in
.
"Goodness," Lorn uttered. A feeling of excitement and concern passed between the four of them. "I knew you could do it, but still I can't believe it. What does that mean for us now?"
No one was ready to answer that question. The silence hung heavy around them as everyone made peace with their new reality.
"Seth is trapped and Ivar ran like a coward," Lysander added.
"Gaeth freed, so with Caledonians, but Emmaray fled."
"Only one place left for them to go," Lorn said.
"Mount Elmire," Oleana agreed. "With Cornelius gone and Seth imprisoned the yetis won't have any leadership. There's no telling what they might decide to do."
Lysander rubbed his face. His frustration dug away at Oleana's raw nerves. "They attacked our home, tried to burn it to the ground. They cut a bloody swath across Caledon and Arismas. Now they think they can just run home to lick their wounds? It’s not right."
"No, it’s not," Oleana agreed. We need to make sure the lot of them are done causing trouble for good." The guys all nodded. "We’ll meet at the Thousand Years Library," Oleana finished.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: CONVERGENCE
It took Lysander and his crew two weeks to sail up the coast to Solon. Two weeks was a long time to wait, a long time to sit and think about all the things that could go wrong. He thought about all the people that he would never get the chance to say goodbye to if things went wrong at Elmire. Central City was so close yet once again Lysander had to pass it by, missing another chance to check in on his mother.
The gentle wind coming down off the mountain cradled his face much like his mother's hand had a hundred times. Lysander could picture her bright green eyes and the endless love contained behind them. If he survived this battle he was going straight back to her. That's what Lysander had to hold onto. Saving the world was too big an accomplishment to wrap his head around, and eliminating his enemies was too dark a thought to dwell on. Survival, he could manage. Survival with a purpose, to envelope his mother in a hug, see with his own eyes that she was alive and well. That would get him through whatever lay ahead.
Lysander had never been to Solon before. He'd traveled along Arismas' border many times but never ventured far enough north to reach such a cold mountainous place. The trip by sea didn't give him enough time to adjust to the dramatic shift in weather from the hot, humid forests of Gaeth to the frigid wasteland that stretched out just beyond Solon's walls.
He'd been told to meet the others at the Thousand Years Library. It seemed wrong arriving at the place without Daycia, but she'd drawn him a precise map and given him clear directions on how to get there. Being inside Solon's wall gave him a completely different feeling from what he experienced in Evermore.
This wall felt like it was closing him in, trapping him, instead of giving Lysander the feeling of protection. The large gray bricks were just holding him in place for the slaughter. The streets were empty even though his group arrived at the peak of the day.
Shops looked like they'd been bordered up for months. Homes had hastily applied bars nailed across windows and doors with reinforced frames. This wasn't the city of learning and wonder Lysander had expected. This was a place shrouded in fear. It was so thick in the air Lysander could feel it clouding up his lungs. Maybe it was better that Daycia had stayed away. It would have broken her heart to see what her city had become in her absence.
The Thousand Years Library still stood shining as a beacon of hope. Although it was made of the same gray bricks as the wall, and blended in with the dark mountains seen in the distance behind it, the Library was softened by the massive wooden doors at the heart of it and the rows of glass windows with bright lights flickering inside.
Troops from all of the allied realms milled about on the steps. They still wore armor and weapons about their person, but their attitudes were more relaxed than he'd seen from anyone in months. They gathered in small groups talking to each other. Some were eating others were just resting in whatever spot they could find to sit down.
Lysander always found it amazing how experienced soldiers tended to react to an upcoming battle. Even if they knew what was coming would be the greatest challenge ever faced, they could relax and have a good time the day before the battle. They could also sleep deep and true that night. When the sun came up and it was time to set plans into motion, the gruff exterior was exposed and they became all about the task ahead.
When the first set noticed him approaching, trailed by fifteen Darten soldiers, they stood to straighten their uniforms as if suddenly under inspection. Lysander was used to having that effect on people, but it didn't make it any more comfortable to experience.
He waved his hands, "Relax, I'm just passing through."
"The others were in the Viewing Room, last I heard," a female archer said, her bow resting over her shoulder.
Lysander recognized her as Kasis, one of Lorn's hand-picked crew. From what little Oleana had said about her experiences the archers had been instrumental in pushing the Elevated back. Lysander had more than enough experience with the warriors of Gaeth to know how difficult a task that had to have been.
"Thanks for the heads up," Lysander said, "and thanks even more for your service." He turned around to look at all of them in turn. "Thank you all for sticking with us during these troubling times. You have no idea how much it means to me, and my fellow Heirs to have such talented, brave, and loyal supporters." Lysander climbed the stairs so he could be better seen by all those around him. "I know you've all sacrificed a great deal, suffered a lot, to be here. We all have." Lysander grabbed his chest feeling the weight of all his own losses and pains settling in his heart. He cleared his throat with a rough cough. "I promise you all, one way or another this’ll all be over soon."
Lysander saw the nodding heads. He saw others put their fists over their hearts in a show of solidarity. They understood his little impromptu speech wasn't a rallying cry. It didn't require boisterous cheers. It was just one soldier's promise to his fellows. But when he had no more words to give them, a sense of embarrassment set in and Lysander ducked into the Library before the blush on his cheeks gave him away.
The heat inside fell over Lysander's shoulders like a warm blanket. The weariness of travel settled like a lead weight soon after. Once the chill was gone he felt the ache in his feet, the hunger in his belly, and the pain in his back. He'd spent more time as king sore, beaten, and bloody, than he had enjoying the finer things in life. It was another aspect of his life that he hoped would change drastically soon.
Before he could even begin to ask someone where the viewing room was, he ran into Mason, Tycho's older cousin.
"The young Starson has finally returned," Mason said, clasping Lysander on the back.
"Its good to be back around so many familiar faces." Lysander snatched a piece of fruit from the tray Mason had balanced in his other hand.
Mason gave him a quick once-over. "Your trip abroad didn't do you too much damage."
Lysander was just as surprised he made it through his last adventure without a couple of extra scars to prove it. He'd barely missed being opened up by one of the dragon’s claws. Somehow Leith kept him safe from the weapons of the Elevated.
"Can't say the same for you," Lysander said noticing the three scarred lines that cut across the side of Mason's neck.
Mason rubbed at the jagged white lines. "Yeah well, a yeti got a little up close and personal, but it will take more than that to put this old war dog down." Mason's gaze turned unfocused for a moment, memories of battle darting behind his eyes. Then he shook himself out of it. "Anyway, enough with this chatting, I'll take you to the others. There's a lot going on up in the mountain that you need to see."
Lysander was so distracted by Mason's ominous words that the interior of the Library passed by him in a blur. When Mason opened the door to the Viewing Room Lysander was sure he wouldn't be able to retrace his steps to the front door if he needed to.
The room itself looked like nothing
special from the outside. It wasn't like the observation room in the Crystal Tower with its intricately carved door and vaulted ceilings. This was just another simple wooden door amid a row of five other doors.
Inside was a bank of equipment Lysander recognized from the viewing monitors Arismas technicians had set up in The Tower. Images of the city and the road leading up into the mountains was projected onto sheets pulled taught from ceiling to floor. Lysander didn't look at them long enough to tell what was going on because seeing the other Heirs after so long drew all of his attention.
Even though they'd shared the private void space together, even shared each other's bodies, there was nothing like seeing them with his own eyes, all of them together again. The others turned to him and they shared a look that said they understood what he was feeling. The more Lysander used his abilities, and the more he learned about their shared history, the better he understood that they were at the core four pieces of the same entity.
Of course, they were all unique individuals with different backgrounds, emotional makeups, and desires, but those things were just the joints of the interlocking puzzle pieces. When they came together they shored up each other's weaknesses.
Whatever the conversation had been in the room, Lysander's entrance halted it. Oleana, Lorn, and Leith crossed the room to embrace Lysander. They stood in a circle, much like they had in the void space. Taking each other's arms, Lysander was careful to grab Oleana above the elbow on her right arm. For a moment the four of them stood there, enjoying being reconnected, the rest of the world and its problems falling away.
"I'm glad we're back together," Lorn said, voicing what Lysander was thinking.
"Safe," Oleana added.
"For now," Lysander chimed in.
"End fight."
"Then we can truly claim to be Heirs of Eternity," Oleana's tone was fierce, giving Lysander goosebumps that ran up his spine.
Oleana's words always had a weight to them, a weight that could rally troops and sway kings. She was in the same league with Daycia and Nadir in that way. It was the weight of conviction backed up by experience. When she said something, Lysander felt compelled to make it come true. They would end the fight and truly claim their title as Kings of all of Euphoria.
