The Beginning After the End: Book 7: Divergence

by TurtleMe

  I’ll have to check up on General Aya to see if she needs help, I thought. A weak moan drew my attention to the Alacryan at my feet, who I had managed to keep alive. I had severed his dominant arm but otherwise kept him able; the healthier he was to start, the longer he’d last during the information extraction.

  “You—soldier carrying the weapons,” I called out to a nearby elf who had been assigned to collect his fallen comrades’ belongings.

  The young elf looked down at the weapons in his arms before realizing that he was the one being called to. “Y-yes, General Arthur?”

  I pointed down to the Alacryan on the ground. “Bring this one to the camp and wrap up his wounds so he doesn’t bleed out.”

  A look of disdain passed across the elf’s face, but he quickly hid it and dipped his head in understanding.

  “Oh, and make sure he doesn’t kill himself before I interrogate him,” I added as the elf dragged the wounded enemy roughly over his shoulder.

  “Yes sir!” he said with renewed vigor, knowing that his enemy’s fate would perhaps be even worse than death.

  196

  Questioning

  I sank down on a bed of thick moss and leaned back against a tree. I pulled out my waterskin and took a long draft, letting the cold water rest in my mouth before I gulped it down.

  There was a faint glow now as the sun rose. Looking upward to the dense canopy, I could see specks of orange peeking through the lush green to provide a little warmth in the damp and cold forest.

  I let my mind wander; I was not ready to think on the task ahead. As it had regularly for the last few days, my conversation with Agrona played in my head. I had decided simply to ignore Agrona’s promise of safety for my family if I recused myself from the battle, telling no one but Sylvie. I didn’t, however, explain to my bond that she could be used as a mouthpiece for the enemy at a moment’s notice.

  I also hadn’t mentioned Agrona’s appearance to the Council—not even Virion. Though Agrona had claimed that he couldn’t utilize Sylvie’s mana, I didn’t want the others to panic and lock her in a cell. I still wasn’t sure if hiding it was right, but I could only hope that a solution would present itself eventually. I had told Sylvie only that Agrona had contacted me, not how. I thought of the conversation too often to hide it from her entirely, and sharing my thoughts with her had eased my mind.

  Still, despite the weight of that conversation, things seemed to be getting better.

  My core had advanced to white, and every moment my body continued to acclimate to the change, I felt stronger. The scars around on my neck and wrist hadn’t disappeared but had faded significantly. My legs, which had endured several substantial injuries, felt more stable than before.

  I knew that my body hadn’t physically changed, but using organic magic, magic that didn’t have a set purpose predisposed by gestures or chants, had become infinitely more natural—and with it, provided a method for me to grow even stronger. This also allowed me to increase control over Static Void and the phases of my dragon’s will. Though Lady Myre had made it clear I would never be able to control aether like the asuras could, even I still didn’t know how far I could progress.

  I still couldn’t use any sequence of Mirage Walk, including Burst Step, without causing irreparable damage to my lower body, though.

  Sylvie’s body, unlike mine, had changed significantly. While she looked just a little younger than my sister in her new human form, she had the coordination of a toddler.

  Her frustration was visible; she frequently tripped over her own feet or lost balance for no apparent reason while standing still. She had a particularly difficult time learning to use her newly-acquired thumbs. Many plates and bowls had to be replaced due to her clumsy efforts to use these new human appendages.

  I let out a chuckle, still clearly able to picture everyone’s faces when they saw Sylvie in her human form for the first time. Everyone had taken it a different way.

  Kathyln’s eyes had widened as she bolted away from my door, repeatedly apologizing for the intrusion, then leaving before I could explain. Hester, unable to suppress an amused grin, simply waved to me before following her ward back down the hall.

  My sister had pointed at me with a trembled finger and asked when Tessia and I had a child together. When I thought about it, Sylvie did have glossy, wheat-colored hair that might have resulted from a shade of brown mixing with gunmetal silver, but I responded like any older brother would: I smacked the back of Ellie’s head and asked her how Sylvie could be my child if she looked only a few years younger than Ellie. At the mention of Sylvie’s name, my sister turned ecstatic, immediately taking the stumbling Sylvie under her wing as a sort of protégée.

  Virion’s reaction had been relatively muted; he seemed to have sensed this little girl was Sylvie the moment he walked into the room. We had spent several minutes exchanging questions and answers, he had teased me about being a father at such a young age, however would I handle the responsibility and so on, then had left with a bow to Sylvie.

  Emily had been fascinated and had immediately started brainstorming ideas on how to measure Sylvie’s strength, to test her abilities, and to create a grading system that would allow comparison of human versus asuran magical potency. Sylvie and I only escaped the encounter by promising to let Emily come by our room and observe Sylvie’s learning behavior on occasion.

  I decided then that I really needed to introduce Emily to some of the castle’s young noblemen…

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a deep breath. I had left Sylvie behind; she was still getting used to the changes to her body now that the seal her mother had placed on her was broken. Although I felt isolated here, despite the constant activity around me as the elven forces dealt with the aftermath of the recent battle, I knew I had made the right decision.

  I didn’t want her—I didn’t want anyone I knew—to see what I was about to do to the Alacryan boy I had kept alive.

  I just hope that things are better on General Aya’s side, I thought.

  Aya and I had been ordered to confirm news of the Alacryan assault on Elenoir and aid in the defense against the attacks if necessary. News of the battle would already have been communicated back to Virion, and I knew that, at that very moment, the Council chambers must be in chaos as they fought over proper redistribution of soldiers and mages to protect not only Sapin, but now Elenoir as well.

  “General Arthur!” a familiar voice called out from a distance, coaxing my eyes open.

  It was the elf I had ordered to carry the Alacryan back to camp. He ran toward me deftly, never missing a footing despite the unevenness of the ground. “The Alacryan has awoken!”

  I rose to my feet, patting the dirt off of my clothes. In preparation for what was to come, I reached out for the emptiness that would help me interrogate the enemy without remorse or sympathy, all the while trying to bury the memory of my past when the situation was reversed.

  “Strip the prisoner and remove everyone else from the room.”

  The encampment of elven troops was in the middle of a small clearing that seemed unnatural, just a few hundred yards north of the battle—or so I thought. My senses, even at the white core stage, weren’t fully accustomed to the direction-disturbing effects of the Elshire Forest.

  By the holes in the ground, which had been packed with fresh dirt, and the unusually dense trees just outside the camp, I assumed the elves had a mage with strong wood affinity to manipulate the trees. Elven soldiers rushed about between tents made of thick fabric, which filled the clearing.

  A few bowed as they passed, while others glanced warily in my direction.

  The elf pointed ahead. “This way, General. The Alacryan is in the tent at the rear. Our head is waiting just outside.”

  The “tent” was actually a large canopy made up of twisted roots and branches with a thick cloth draped over it. A swirling dome of wind covered the wooden tent, causing the cloth to sway and ripple. Waiting outside, her attention on the
entrance of the tent, arms out and mana continually circulating inside her, was the same armored woman who I had saved from the prisoner himself.

  As she noticed us approach, she visibly relaxed and held out a hand. “I forgot to introduce myself earlier. My name is Lenna Aemaris, head of the southeastern unit in Elenoir.”

  “Arthur Leywin.” I shook her hand before turning to the tent. “He’s able to talk?”

  Lenna’s face contorted in disgust. “He’s been screaming and yelling since waking up, which is why I had to put up a wind barrier. It’ll also give you some privacy,” she added knowingly.

  “Thank you.” I took a calm breath, dissociating myself from the events about to unfold as I walked through the sound protecting barrier without disrupting the spell—a feat that was much harder than it appeared. I couldn’t think of myself as Arthur; I was an interrogator, and I had a job to do.

  Once inside the barrier, my ears were filled with the sound of an angry boy shouting idle threats.

  “My arm! Where’s my arm? If you primitive beasts know what’s good for you, you’ll untie me. I am of blood Vale, a distinguished family of the—”

  My hand cracked across his face, snapping it back with the force of the blow.

  The boy looked at me, stunned. “Y-you—you slapped me! What’s your name? I’ll have you—”

  His head rocked as I slapped him once more. When he’d recovered, I bent forward to lock eyes with the boy. “I don’t think you truly understand the gravity of the situation you are in, so allow me to enlighten you.”

  My fingers crackled with wire-thin tendrils of electricity as I grabbed him by the forehead and squeezed down on his temples. The boy’s body immediately spasmed as I continued to take advantage of my organic mana.

  “Un…h-hand me! Wh-what are you d-d-doing?” the boy cried out.

  I continued imbuing carefully strewn lightning mana into his brain and down his nerves for the next few minutes until it finally worked.

  A mind-numbing scream tore out from the boy’s throat as he flailed madly in his seat. “Burns! I-it burns!”

  “Of course it does,” I replied flatly. “Your nerve-endings are a little confused right now, making it feel as if you’re in a fire.”

  I could see the whites of his eyes as he screamed. Foaming at the mouth, the boy continued to thrash, desperately trying to put out a fire that wasn’t there.

  After a few minutes had passed, I gripped his head once more and relieved him from the pain.

  “Pl-please. Why are you doing this? What do you want? I’ll give you anything,” he muttered in between sobs as his entire body trembled in shock.

  “Your name,” I demanded without emotion.

  “Why do you need to know—” the boy let out a shrill cry at the mere sight of me lifting my hand. “Steffan! Steffan Vale. Please… no more.”

  “Steffan. Just looking at you, I know your family—or blood, as you call it—is distinguished, meaning you are as well. Unlike the other soldiers we’ve captured so far, you’ve made no attempts to kill yourself—and wish dearly to live. Am I correct so far?”

  “Yes!” he blurted out, clearly eager to avoid any more pain.

  I chose my next words carefully before speaking. “I won’t kill you if you cooperate. In what condition you make it back home, however, will depend on how helpful you are and how honestly you answer my questions. Do you understand?”

  He nodded fiercely.

  “A few of your troops have survived and managed to escape, but I strongly advise you rid yourself of the hope that any force they can muster up and bring back here will be strong enough to aid you.”

  In my time as a silver and then white core mage, I had grown used to restraining my full power, as the aura of a white core mage could be crippling to those around them. Now, though, I needed this Steffan to understand his situation, to really believe what I was telling him, so I let go my restraint.

  The thick roots and branches making up the tent cracked and snapped under the full weight of a white core mage letting loose. The ground splintered as rubble shook below our feet.

  As for Steffan, he was having a hard time breathing, even with the meager amounts of mana cycling throughout his body. His bloodshot eyes bulged and his mouth gaped like a fish out of water, and an acrid stench drifted up from the wet spot between his legs. I withdrew my mana.

  “I-I… under—understand,” he stammered.

  “Good,” I said, taking a step back. I thought of going straight to the more pressing questions, but I wanted to see if he was actually telling the truth.

  “List all of the members of the Vale house and your relationship to them.”

  The boy looked fearful for a second, perhaps thinking that I would use the information to kill off his entire house, but he didn’t have the strength to refuse. Steffan rattled off a list of names that had no meaning to me until one name came up that I could verify. “... Izora Vale, my mother. Karnal Vale, my father. Lucia Vale, my sister.”

  I put up a hand to stop him.

  “What is the awakening process?”

  “The awakening is the ceremony that unlocks for children their first mark so that they can become a mage,” Steffan answered, his voice hoarse.

  “What is the difference between a crest and a mark?” I asked, remembering the terms from my glimpse into Uto’s memories through his horn.

  The boy recited his reply like he’d memorized it out of a textbook. “A crest is stronger. It symbolizes a greater understanding of the specified route of magic that the mark enables the mage to utilize...”

  My curiosity was beginning to win me over; I wanted to learn more about Alacryan magic, but I could tell he was starting to withdraw. I knew it would be a lot harder to get him motivated to answer my questions the longer it went, and without an emitter to keep him alive, losing him was a risk I couldn’t take now.

  Again, I chose the words very carefully for my next question. I wanted Steffan to think he was confirming what I already knew. That was the best way to get truthful answers out of him.

  “What stage is above marks and crests?” I asked, gripping his leg in warning as his eyes began to shut.

  “A-after crests are emblems, and then regalias,” he said hurriedly.

  “How strong are mages with regalias compared to retainers?”

  “I don’t know! My family’s highest power is my grandfather, and he’s only an emblem mage—I swear on the name of Vritra!”

  “Swear on the name of Vritra,” I echoed distastefully. I’d heard a saying similar inside the cavern in Darv. It seemed the Vritra were considered almost like gods in Alacrya.

  “Do you know how many emblem- and regalia-holders are on Dicathen currently?”

  He shook his head. “My commander is an emblem mage, but I know that he answers to a regalia-holder. I don’t know the exact numbers.”

  I let out a sigh. This boy was too low in the rankings to be of any real use. From the sound of it, the House of Vale that he so proudly proclaimed to be a member of wasn’t even very high up in Alacrya.

  Finally, I asked a few questions pertaining specifically to the orders he had received. As I had feared, this had not been the only attack targeting the Elshire Forest. Several other troops were headed north, intending to strike while the elven forces were still recovering and before further reinforcements could be sent from Sapin.

  “Please… let me go now. You promised. I answered every one of your questions truthfully!” The boy’s shoulders sagged; the stump that used to be his right arm was bleeding through the bandages.

  “Like I said, I won’t kill you.” With those last words, I left the tent.

  Outside, waves of elven soldiers were arriving at the camp, some carrying bloodied allies, while others moved what was left of their comrades’ corpses.

  I stepped up next to Lenna Aemaris. She flinched when our eyes met, but she remained silent, waiting for my orders.

  My gaze remained cold; I didn’t
want even a shred of emotion to get in my way as I spoke.

  “I’m done. Feel free to dispose of the Alacryan however you see fit.”

  197

  Torn

  My eyes snapped open from a sharp sting on my cheek, only to see a blinding light aimed straight at my face.

  Immediately, my heart started to pound as my mind scrambled to make sense of what was going on. I tried to stand, but both my hands and feet were bound to the chair I was sitting on.

  “Grey. Can you hear me?” a dark silhouette asked from behind the fluorescent light.

  “Where am I? Who are you?” I groaned, my throat dry and burning.

  “What is the last thing you remember?” said another voice, ignoring my questions. I saw a second, larger, figure standing next to the first, but I couldn’t make out any other details aside from that.

  My head throbbed as I tried to recall the memories, but eventually I was able to sort them out. “I… I had just won the tournament.”

  I was slowly adjusting to the light, able to make out more details of the room I was in and the figures standing in front of me.

  “What else?” the thinner man said calmly.

  “I accepted an offer to be mentored by a powerful person,” I let out, hoping my ambiguity would go unnoticed.

  “What is the name of this powerful woman and what is the nature of your relationship?” the man asked. The fact that he already knew she was a woman made me think that this was some kind of test, and that he likely already knew the answer.

  I pulled at what felt like a thick metal wire tied around my wrists. Seeing as even my strength reinforced with ki did nothing, I had no choice but to answer. “I only know her as Lady Vera, and I just met her.”

  “Lies,” the larger man, who I now could see had long slicked-back hair, hissed. He raised a hand as if to strike me, but the thinner man stopped him.