Her jaw trembled as her eyes glazed over. Heavy tears spilled from her cheeks, then she crumpled over in a paroxysm of weeping.
Neepa and Eva stared at the sobbing dragon-beastkin, then they both shot me a look. Is this what it feels like to be the biggest asshole in the world?
I went over to help calm Koko, but then she dropped to her knees and sobbed harder. Unexpectedly, she clutched my legs and buried her face in my stomach.
“Thank you,” she bawled. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She choked on a sob, taking a moment to catch her breath to continue thanking me in unintelligible whispers.
I tossed aside the magical sword and dropped to my knees to comfort Koko. “It’ll be okay,” I promised. She sobbed so hard that her entire body shook.
Neepa deposited herself next to us and rubbed the weeping girl’s back. Eva stood on the other side and rested a hand onto Koko’s heaving shoulder. Together, we comforted Koko as she confronted this busted damn of emotions.
Chapter 22
The next few days passed by in a blur of activity. Except the first; I spent an entire day and a half sleeping. But the following day was all sorts of hectic chaos at the academy.
Word spread like wildfire of Headmaster Olodor’s betrayal, sending the entire academy of Lucinia, as well as all of the minor institutions peppered throughout Scintillion, to give all of their students and faculty a thorough investigation by the Delvers. People had to willingly open their minds to the mental mages, then go on to answer a series of questions. Turns out that Delvers are this world’s living equivalent to a polygraph; with an open mind before them, they can tell lies from truths, like reading a book.
Of course, there are almost four-hundred-thousand mages in Scintillion alone, and there are only so many Delvers. One easy solution was the order issued by the Council of Scintillion, a collective of people that includes the Grand Mage, Sigemond, and other representatives in charge of running the bigger aspects of the state such as the treasury, various unions, and foreign trade and relations. Basically, they passed a sunset law that anyone accused of treason or of any suspicious acts must submit to the quarries of any military official or mage holding similar authority. Any who refuse is subject to imprisonment, and, in the extreme case, execution. With such heavy repercussions, many readily submitted themselves to the Delvers so that the investigation could go smoothly. It was going to take a long-ass time, though. Julika predicts it would take several months to thoroughly go through their rosters, likewise for Sigemond’s people.
However, on the day the legislation was announced, several people trying to flee were captured by the wall’s guard. Not all the Null sympathizers shared Bricet’s mad devotion to the cause. And several more were found hanging in their rooms by the end of the first day of the law; mages, soldiers, and townsfolk alike.
Risk running, or wait till they get cornered. Took their own shortcut to being permanent landowners.
The initial findings of the investigation about the three who led the corrupted-beastkin army were presented to me. Bricet, Bardol, and Cas were all long-time residents of Scintillion. Bricet was on his way to being a headmaster for Arade, a smaller academy that prided themselves in earth mages. Bardol was a military veteran who served fifteen years before retiring to be a farmer. Cas went to Lucinia and studied up until she got to the fourth degree with her element in fire, then served her contractual five years in the military before she became a local trapper. Lucinia’s records revealed that all three had ties to Olodor, either studying under him directly at some point, or serving besides him during past campaigns on other worlds.
Learning of all the sleeper agents within Scintillion was alarming at first, but when the news of fleeing, surrenders, and suicides came back, I felt a little better. Whatever network they had going within the city was in shambles now. Knock on wood.
The only loose end were the collars. Bricet was an earth mage who was capable of manipulating iron, which is why the unfastened collar bands were found only on his corpse. Strong speculation suggests that he was in charge of collaring and turning any captured wolf-beastkin. And me, but it never came to that, thankfully.
Sigemond’s people took point out in the woods and swept the area around where they rescued us. Found forty-nine corrupted wolf-beastkin in total, all dead. Based off observations and accounts of local hunters and scavengers, that was the entire pack who controlled the western portion of forest.
A tragedy, one made all the more guilt ridden considering I was the one to put them down. All assured me there was no turning back from corruption, that it was basically death. The sentiment was lukewarm at best.
The collars still proved to be a complete enigma. It was believed that Olodor was the one who crafted the enchantment base that allowed the corrupted beastkin to move freely without drawing attention from the numerous wards and seers in and around Scintillion, but there were no traces of any recognizable magic. Like the cursed Null dagger and whistles, the collars were fueled and crafted by black magic. No other discernible evidence revealed anything outside of a terrifying effect. The collars somehow managed to negate any magic based around a pure nature.
Aleih was powerful for being a seventh degree mage, but her flames failed to pierce whatever barrier the collars produced for the corrupted-beastkin. Other tests were true for other pure elements like water and air. The collars weren’t perfect, however. Charna requested to have a go at one of the test collars. After a bath of her flames, the collar was nothing more than a molten puddle.
Alarming that the Null could devise such magic, but the mages assured they would crack whatever causes such a phenomenon then learn to crush it.
How the traitors got and learned how to use such tools remains a mystery. Olodor has yet to crack. But he will. And when he does, the truth will bring us closer to the Null’s plans.
While the hunt for traitors was far from over, the investigation regarding the attack on Scintillion was closed, for now. The next order of business was my role as the Resonant.
I witnessed the sheer power at my disposal first hand. And it almost killed me. Julika said I had to have been blessed to have tapped into all of my power, channel it into the artifact, then unleash it in such a sloppy fashion and still be alive. That said, I would have to undergo some serious education to learn the fundamentals of magic to actually wield the sword. Or at least prevent myself from almost dying again. Julika said all of Lucinia is at my disposal. Sigemond swearing the same for the Arms of Earus.
Together, we went into great detail about how to go about training me to be a competent soldier before I can hope to fill the role of mighty hero. The first thing arranged was my living quarters; actually, our living quarters. Sigemond suggested having Neepa, Eva, and I moved to a home right in the middle of Scintillion, just a short way from Lucinia and a couple city blocks away from a military outpost.
Receiving a new home for free seemed a bit much, but Sigemond assured me that it was the best way to remain flexible and be under close watch, as well as giving me the privacy I'll need. His face crinkled knowingly the time he said it. Julika looked nonplussed at the old man’s mirth, but also agreed that the arrangement allowed me to balance my study of magic and combat. As it stands, I have no idea how to wield a sword or use magic. It’s going to be an interesting climb.
The arrangement was also for the sake of the girls, or my squad mates. Officially, I’m considered an independent mercenary who works alongside Scintillion. Doesn’t really mean anything, but I thought it was kinda neat that I was a mercenary. Eva and Neepa would serve dual roles as my partners and my instructors; however, Sigemond said he was going to assign a few more people that he felt would benefit me, so long as I approved.
And given the development with Koko, she would serve as a mediator of sorts with Lucinia as well as my assistant/mentor… and wife. With so much going on, Koko and I had yet to discuss that little hiccup. What's worse is that it’s legally binding.
Long
story short, the passing of a hand is a sort of arranged marriage that allows nest mothers to dump their kids without granting them independence—an old dragon custom that mirrors that of kings giving away daughters to merge kingdoms. Dragons can only birth daughters, so they rely heavily on other species to reproduce. With long lifespans and immense power at their disposal, dragons can afford to be picky when it comes to mates. That does pose a problem for when they want to build their nest and Mr. Right doesn’t stroll along. The passing of the hand was the solution that allowed nest mothers to increase their nest size by giving away their daughters with the sole condition that any offspring of the daughters falls under their mother's authority, to pad numbers. In simplest terms, all dragons want to spread their bloodline far and wide, and they need powerful daughters to defend their respective nests.
Matricide wasn’t too uncommon for dragons because newly freed daughters would sometimes turn around and kill the mother to lay claim to the nest. Might and territory is everything to them, something in their being that compels them to stand at the absolute precipice of their species’ hierarchy, to be the apex bloodline for the dragon race.
All I really got from how Julika explained it was that I claimed Koko as property, and that dragons are fucking brutal creatures. It’s like God listened to Cannibal Corpse and brought forth the light with his fist to birth dragons.
Also, inadvertently forcing Koko to be my wife was a serious dick move on my part, but it was the best, and only, move to get her out of Charna’s hands. Being in a position where she was honor-bound to heed my request, Charna was in no position to make demands or conditions. The thought probably didn’t even cross her mind; she was more than willing to toss aside a prominent daughter if it meant getting a Resonant’s seed.
A garbage disposal had a higher chance of getting fucked by me than her.
“Where would you like these, sir?” a simian-looking beastkin asked. He was one of the more bestial looking species with fur covering most of his body and having strong facial features of an ape.
I snapped out of my lull and stared at the nondescript chest. “Oh, I think Eva would know.”
“Right, sir.” The silverback-looking dude nodded then carried the chest up the stairs where Eva was directing the soldiers helping with the move.
Neepa was surprised, to say the least, with the whole Koko deal, but she didn’t seem to hold any ill will towards the dragon-woman or me. When Neepa didn’t appear overly upset, Eva withheld any hostile behavior directed towards me, so Little Al didn’t have worry for his well-being.
Regarding the move, they were surprisingly quick to agree. When the option was presented to me in the private meeting, I thought it would be wrong to drag the girls out of the home where their adoptive mother raised them. They admitted it was sad to move on, but they held the sentiment that home was where their hearts were. Neepa was ecstatic to be able to finally go to the prestigious Lucinia, and Eva was happy that Neepa was happy.
Once arrangements were made, Sigemond had two wagons prepared and a squad to help. Eva and I were on the first wagon back to the city proper, Neepa stayed behind to help direct everything. About seventy-percent of everything in that house by the woods belonged to Neepa; Eva was able to fit all of her belongings into two trunks. We were hesitant to leave her behind, but, amazingly, all the soldiers heeded Neepa’s every word with respect and urgency. Sigemond must’ve been spreading her efforts during the assault.
Though, I’m not sure how things are going to swing with other mages. Julika seemed far from ecstatic about my demand. I respect Julika, but I won’t hesitate to chew her out if she decides to be difficult.
Difficult is going to be the word of the day for the coming weeks; I’d like to avoid any more complications if possible.
I stood in the middle of our new home and rubbed my temples. My head still pounding from the seven hour meeting yesterday, and we left the walls at the crack of dawn for the move. It seemed I was the only one who wasn’t so bushy-tailed for the day.
I tilted my up to the vaulted ceiling. The rustic home felt cozier than the patrician quarters offered by the academy. The space was more like a large lodge than a simple house.
The end where I stood was very open, featuring a generously furnished living room with a wide fireplace perfect for chasing away cold nights. The kitchen was on the other side of the room with a long dining table separating the two spaces. The other half of the house featured eight rooms, four on each floor, and a spacious study on the ground level on the other end.
One thing I loved about the house was how it stood alone in the center of a block, narrow streets serving as a buffer to the other buildings that were built side-by-side. This allowed our home to have a fairly sizeable backyard enclosed by a stone wall, the only way in being through the backdoor, or by a steel side door built into the wall. Neepa would have space to plant a garden, Eva could set up targets, and I could relax on the porch.
When Sigemond showed us the place, I asked why such an impressive home was unoccupied. He told me the group living here before is no longer with us, and then gave a brief overview of how the Arms handles its general infantry. Those within Scintillion either serve as reserves, or are cycled to and from various worlds. While within the city, soldiers take up grunt work such as patrols, peace keeping, sanitation, and requests approved by the guild. None of the jobs can be called quests, most consisting of labor jobs.
Within the Arms are specialized squads or companies who follow different protocols. Homes like the one we were given are provided for squads to live in until they’re required for active duty. Though, things work differently for us because we’re a very, very, special squad.
I walked through the back door and onto the porch, taking in the backyard before turning back to admire the house. Thoughts of the residents prior entered my mind.
I plan on here long enough for this to be home.
I caught myself in the window’s reflection. The man before me a stranger. My jet black hair hung almost over my eyes, and thick curls framed my jaws and upper lip. The new shirt, pants, and midnight sword at my hip made me look like a guy from the renaissance. I scratched at my beard and frowned, hating how much of a bum I looked like. I got my crew touched up every three weeks and shaved every two days, otherwise my face would feel so itchy that sleeping became a bitch and a half.
While grimacing, I looked past my reflection and saw Eva; she stood in the living room and frowned back at me. She stormed outside and asked with a tight inflection, “What?”
“Sorry, I wasn’t making that face at you, it’s just…” I ran a hand over my jaw. “I’m just annoyed about how unkempt I’ve gotten.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop it. That face you make is extra annoying.”
I minutely shook my head at her attitude. “It’s on my face. Can’t help it.”
Eva leaned against the door jam, and tapped her finger on her crossed forearm, the sling gone and her collarbone healed. She fixed me with her mint-colored eyes, then exhaled through her nostrils. She dipped back and inside and came back with a chair from the dining table. The legs creaked as she planted it on the porch, and she said, “Sit.” Then disappeared back inside.
A minute later, she came back with a towel, a small jar, and a thin blade. While loading her supplies on the window sill, she turned around and cocked a brow.
“W-what are you doing?” I asked.
“Shut up and sit down. I’m going to fix your face.”
I complied and was tempted to cheekily ask if she was going to give me a Columbian necktie, but thought better of introducing the idea to her.
Eva ran the knife’s edge against her leather belt a few passes, then checked the edge on her thumbnail, shaving off a thin curl. She opened the jar and rubbed what felt like oil along my jaw, the fragrance sweet.
She stepped behind me and tilted my head up slightly. “Hold still.” The blade pressed under my chin, then smoothly traveled down my neck. Eva wip
ed the blade off on the towel and repeated the process, the knife gliding over my skin and through the thick curls easily.
Eva worked silently for several more minutes, the only sounds filling the sunny day the clopping of feet and murmurs inside.
“How’s it feel?” she asked quietly, the question almost as an afterthought while she followed the contours of my jaw.
“You’re not hurting me,” I answered carefully, not wanting a slashed artery. “It’s feels kinda nice, actually”
She tilted my head back so she could I could see her frown. Then she reached over and tapped her knife against the sword at my side.
“Oh. I’m an idiot, remember?” She shook her head and went back to shaving. “The Resonant thing? Well, hard to put the surge of power I felt into words, mostly because I can hardly remember, the experience more like a fever dream than anything. Everything else? Scary, honestly. But…”
“But?” she parroted.
I waited for the sinking feeling in my stomach, the feeling of terrifying ambiguity. It was gone.
“But I feel like I can push ahead, even if I’m scared. Doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but my gut is telling me, or making me feel like I can do it. At first I just buried everything down, all the duty and responsibility, and it just fostered this nasty, sick feeling deep, deep within. Now? Clear, concise, like something’s been distorting the message, but all the static is gone. You know?”
Eva dropped the towel over my face and scrubbed off the excess oil and hair. “If you’re implying that your balls dropped, yeah, I think I do.” I smiled despite myself. She withdrew the towel and gave my face a onceover. “There. I don’t have shears, so you’ll have to see a barber.”
I ran my hand over Eva’s handy work. Baby smooth. A knife was like an extra appendage to her.
I stood and stepped around the chair to face her. “Thanks.”
She closed the jar and dropped the knife in the towel. “Don’t mention it.”
Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series) Page 37
