by Rosie Scott
“All of us took Hammerton,” Zephyr retorted. “The rest of us worked together to do it. You never wanted to be a part of anything. This land is ours.” Her silver eyes moved over the other Sentinels. “Don't let me be alone in this, guys. I understand you want to abide by our agreement with Kai, but do not abandon all the work we've done. If Eteri is breaking the alliance with the Seran Renegades, then perhaps we won't consider ourselves part of Eteri at all.”
Uriel and Cyrus exchanged glances. The healer's next words mirrored the ones from the memory Cicero had given me years ago, back before my Seran Renegades had arrived in Eteri at all.
“We're holding onto Hammerton as separatists.”
A noise between a gasp and a huff sounded from Kirek's lips. “You can't do that.”
Cyrus crossed his arms over his chest. “We just did.”
Kirek reached for the ax on her belt. I summoned enervat, and the Sentinels all grabbed their own weapons. Kirek was now without a shield. She eyed the death magic in my palm, and her hand fell from her ax.
“This land is rightfully mine,” she breathed, her voice hoarse with stress.
“Then gather your forces and fight us for it,” Cyrus retorted angrily. “Run home to Eteri, Kirek. Continue ruling it as Tilda did. And when our armies show up on the western coast decades from now, don't dare pretend to be surprised.”
“This land is mine,” Kirek repeated, though she started to back away toward the docks.
“Well, this friend was mine,” Cyrus spat, motioning back to Altan's corpse. “And you took him from me. I promise you I'll be the biggest plague to your rule in the coming centuries. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
Kirek said nothing more. She grabbed the military satchel from the puddle of Altan's drying blood and hurried to the docks. I assumed she would find a handful of supporters to take the long return trek with her to Eteri on a warship.
All of us were quiet for some time as we tried to come to terms with the monumental change of events. Finally, Cyrus turned to the other Sentinels, and his blue eyes were still moist with the tragedy of the day. “If you find that you cannot trust me after what I've admitted today, I will respect your judgment.”
Zephyr exhaled slowly and glanced between Uriel and Dax. “Perhaps we should speak of this together. Right now, I consider us four to be the leaders of this country. We will talk things through and decide how to proceed from here. For now, Cyrus...” she trailed off, looking at Altan's corpse with utter sadness. “Let us mourn the death of a good man and friend.”
*
80th of New Moon, 429
The skies over the northern ocean were orange and gold with a sunset. I sat with my legs hanging over the end of one of Hallmar's long piers, my eyes watching brightly colored clouds chase the sun to its bed. Azazel sat beside me, his own boots hanging over the calm waters below as he sketched the landscape with a set of expensive colored charcoal I'd bought him in Griswald for his last birthday in Red Moon.
All was peaceful and quiet. The festivities of the harbor behind us had been cut short due to the tragedy there over a fortnight ago. We had given Altan a funeral fit for a king because if it were up to us, that would have been what he was. Altan's death had been so sudden and unexpected that even after his burial, I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact he was gone. I would desperately miss his jokes, his energy, and his friendliness. At one time, the fiery first Sentinel had seemed invincible. He'd charged into anything without fear and often excelled at being outnumbered. That only made it sadder to me that his death had been so abrupt, so avoidable. I'd once told Cyrus that if a leader refused to play all of war's dirty games, they would only end up dying by them. Altan's death just cemented that belief in my mind.
The pier creaked as boot steps came up behind us. Neither Azazel or I looked back because we already knew who it was.
Cyrus grunted with effort as he lowered himself to sit on my other side. I became nostalgic for that night in Olympia when the three of us had talked together like this. If only we could have known how things would turn out at the time.
“How did it go?” I questioned softly, my eyes stuck on a flock of birds soaring through the skies ahead.
“Differently than I could have ever imagined,” Cyrus replied. “I told them I would not vote for a leader because I didn't feel I deserved the honor. It wouldn't even matter if I had. Uriel, Zephyr, and Dax all voted to elect the same person.”
“If that's the case, there's only one person they could have elected at all,” Azazel mused, as his charcoal scraped across the paper.
“I never wanted to be king,” Cyrus said, frowning as his eyes watched the calm waters ahead. “That was never the point of all this. I would rather have Altan back than to be elected into a position I don't feel I deserve.”
I reached an arm around him and squeezed him close to me. “You say you don't deserve it. The others have voted otherwise. That tells me that even though you never wanted this, you are the best person for the job.”
A thick exhale blew between his lips. “This is a frightening prospect, Kai. The dwarves who did not accept our takeover are rebuilding in the Border Mounts. Kirek's supporters will not take this lightly in Eteri. Chairel looms to the west.”
I nodded softly but said nothing.
“This country is now my own, but it has barely begun. It may crumble before it has a chance to grow.”
“It will be fine,” I told him. “Both Monte and Pisces have dealt with the few rebellions they've had. Tilda sent tens of thousands of settlers. Vhiri and dwarves have been living together in Olympia for nearly two years. Many dwarves have half-breed children now. Tensions will remain high for some time, but this country is already changing. The people are tired of war. Let them live here in peace, and they may go about their business. Particularly now that you are in charge, not Tilda.”
Cyrus sighed. “Gods, there is so much on my plate that I can't even begin to think.”
“I will help you,” I offered.
Cyrus nodded. “I know. But you will soon march into Chairel.”
“You will be with me?”
“Of course,” he said with no hesitation. “But I'd like to discuss timing, Kai. How old is Sirius?”
I thought about this for a moment, calculating dates and ages in my head. “Sixty-three.”
“That is quite old for a human, is it not?”
“Sirius will live to be in his eighties if I don't kill him first. As you once said, the Seran bloodline likely has elven contaminants. His ancestors all lived to be in their eighties despite their magic use.” I hesitated and added, “And he is a lazy coward who spends his time in the University, not on the battlefield with his men.”
“I wouldn't wish to take time away from you,” Cyrus said. “Give me a year, Kai. I might not take even that. I will do my best to prepare to march with you by the new year.”
“I will accept that. In the meantime, let Calder and I help you build a court and grow. Both of us have experience with such things.”
Cyrus exhaled with stress and said, “I would appreciate that. The others...they still consider themselves Sentinels. My Sentinels, now, which is such an odd thing to say. Perhaps I will expand on Tilda's idea and promote more. My army will be much smaller than you may have been expecting from an alliance with Eteri, so I will probably wait to promote anyone until I have a reason to decades down the line.”
“I don't have an alliance with Eteri,” I reminded him. “They broke it as I expected, remember?”
Cyrus huffed dryly. “Which reminds me, Kai. We are no longer a part of Eteri, but the other Sentinels and I want to rename Hammerton. Give it a new identity now that it is a land of mixed cultures.”
“Do you want any ideas?” Azazel asked from my other side, and Cyrus chuckled.
“Well, we have a name picked out, but I do want to see if you approve.” Cyrus leaned back to look at the archer behind my back. “Fremont.”
“Free m
ountain,” Azazel said. “You and the other Vhiri feel freed from Tilda's strings, but you want to pay respect to the native dwarven culture. The dwarves love their mountains. It is a good name to bring the races together.”
Cyrus smiled and leaned forward again. “That's what we thought. I'm glad you approve of the name because now we can use it.”
Azazel chuckled.
Cyrus cleared his throat. “Kai, I wanted to thank you for your support over the years. The Renegades as well, of course, but I plan on going up to thank each of them personally on my own time. You have become one of my greatest friends. I have something to offer you and ask of you all at once.”
“Sure, Cy. Anything.”
“My first order of business as king of Fremont will be to offer you an alliance. No holds barred. I want to support each other militarily and economically to the fullest extent. I know this means little now since this country is weakened by war. But I hope my loyalty to you as a friend over the years will allow you to trust me when I say that when Fremont flourishes, I will support you every bit as I do now. And I hope that when you take Chairel and it grows stronger than ever, you will be willing to do the same.”
“I will accept every bit of that offer,” I agreed. “We can even write something up and sign it tonight if you'd like.”
Cyrus nodded. “We will, then.”
“What would you ask of me in return?”
“It's more of an extension of my offer, really,” Cyrus admitted. “The last time we sat on a pier like this together, you spoke about what would happen if Eteri double-crossed you and ostracized me. You said I could stay with you until Chairel was strong enough to retaliate.” There was a silence as Cyrus watched the skies moving overhead. “I wanted to kill Kirek that day, Kai. But if I had, I risked turning the others against me just like they turned against her for killing Altan. I'm glad I held back. Kirek has Eteri, and the rest of us have Fremont. I'm better able to aid you with an army following me than if you'd only had me alone.”
“But now you seek vengeance,” I said, understanding.
“...I do. I promised to be a thorn in her side for the rest of her life.”
“And unlike Eteri, Cyrus Anil holds true to his promises,” I mused teasingly.
Cyrus chuckled, and then he sobered. “I will one day kill Kirek. I want you to be there when I do. You said your grandmother was the goddess of vengeance, correct? It runs through your veins. You were good friends with Altan as well. I figured you would agree to support me when the time came.”
“We've already agreed to an alliance, Cy. As far as I'm concerned, I've already promised to be there. For this war and the next and the next.”
“Thank you.” Cyrus smiled over at me. “I have a final request.”
“You're a greedy bastard.”
Cyrus chuckled softly. “Now that I am king of Fremont, I want to spread the lesser magics to the Vhiri as well. I'd like it if you and the others could teach my soldiers alteration and illusion magic. It will aid us in Chairel and give us an advantage against Kirek once the day comes that we meet in battle.”
I nodded. “It will be done.”
“Finally, will you teach my life mages the spell you created? There are a select few life and death dual casters who will be able to transfer their highs to my other men. Besides,” he glanced over at Azazel and I with a knowing look, “I'd like to live long enough to see Kirek die.”
“You'll live longer than that if I have anything to say about it,” I said, nudging him warmly in the side. “Consider it done. If there's one thing Kirek and Chairel have in common, it's their fear of necromancy.”
“Fear of necromancy, yes,” Cyrus agreed. “But above all, it's the immortality they fear. That will be a benefit to us as we march into Chairel. Not only will we be surrounded by necromancers, but some of them will be able to grant their power to others. Civilians may join your army even before Chairel is taken because they want to prolong their life. And in battle? Watching someone pass a high to someone else is extremely intimidating. It may be a shock to the country that has always believed it knew everything there was to know about magic. They will not understand it so they will fear it.”
My eyes moved across the ocean to the left, where the last mountains in the range of the Firn Caps stood tall and proud along Chairel's northeastern coast. Whether it took me a few years or many more, that land would be mine. Sirius would soon reap what he had sown. Magic use would spread across the lands like never before. The world of Arrayis was nearing the end of an era. Much like the phoenix, life would rise out of the ashes of war and birth something completely new.
“Let's go write up our alliance, Cyrus,” I finally said, standing up from the pier. “Together, we'll give them something to fear.”
***
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