The Beginning After the End: Book 7: Divergence
Page 22
Merial rested a hand on her husband’s elbow and said, “Alduin, I understand your anger but please, this isn’t the time or place to do this.”
Jerking his arm free from his wife’s hold, he swung his fist—still clutching the transmission scroll sent by General Aya—squarely into Blaine’s jaw. “My daughter nearly died because of your greed!”
Priscilla Glayder rushed to Blaine’s side as he slid down the wall, rubbing his jaw and glaring quietly up at my son. Buhnd sat idly, his usual look of amusement replaced by a grim frown.
“How many times did I ask for more elven troops to be placed back in Elenoir? How many times did I plead because I was afraid something exactly like this would happen? This could lead to the fall of the entire elven kingdom!”
Tears flowed freely down Alduin’s face as he exercised his frustration, fear, and anger. Merial gently wrapped her arms around him, comforting my son in a way that I couldn’t.
I had no right. After all, the weight of his words didn’t just fall on the Glayders, but to me as well. I had ultimately sided with the Glayders and agreed to keep the elven troops in Sapin. Commanding this war effort was my responsibility, and the events unfolding in Elenoir rested on my shoulders.
I had been overconfident in the magical defenses of the Elshire Forest. I was wrong. That simple acknowledgment seemed stuck deep in the back of my throat; I didn’t have the strength to say it aloud.
Instead, I stared at the transmission scroll sent from Etistin.
Now isn’t the time to doubt my decisions.
I quickly flipped the scroll and tucked it into another pile nearby before speaking.
“Enough! Now is not the time to be pointing fingers. Get out and cool off, all of you,” I ordered. “Councilmembers Alduin and Merial, Tessia should be arriving soon. Take some time to be there for her.”
Shifting my gaze towards the Glayders, I said, “Take a break, and just know that, whatever happens, no one person is at fault.”
I waited for the guards to escort the members of the Council out. Alduin and Merial left first, and, from the way my son’s sharp eyes flashed with indignation and anger, I knew he blamed me as well.
Blaine stopped in the doorway and looked back. “I know you swore an oath to be impartial, to show no favoritism toward Elenoir, Darv, or Sapin, but I won’t blame you for protecting your home.”
He didn’t wait for me to reply as he walked out, one arm around his wife.
Buhnd was the last to leave; he had been unusually quiet, and his expression was unreadable.
Alone for the first time in many hours, I found the sudden quiet unsettling. The messages written on the transmission scrolls seemed to radiate a sort of mental pressure, and the cumulative effect was almost suffocating.
Sighing heavily, I retrieved the transmission scroll that had come from Etistin and read it again. The contents of this scroll, and the many more soon to come, would stun the rest of the Council. I felt nearly paralyzed by the report, but I couldn’t let that happen. At least one of us needed to be in their right mind, which was why I hadn’t revealed it to them—even if it gave me only a few hours reprieve. I needed that time to put my thoughts in order.
There were now over three hundred ships—each one filled with Alacryan soldiers—approaching our western shores, and there would undoubtedly be Scythes and retainers amongst them. The corrupted beasts at the Wall, the sudden appearance of an army within the Elshire Forest, and now these ships… The timing was too perfect. They had carefully planned this moment, and I couldn’t help but fear that this war was reaching a turning point.
Fortunately, Bairon and Varay were already close by, but the presence of two Lances wouldn’t be enough—even having all five of our Lances at Etistin might not be enough. I knew Buhnd wouldn’t argue if I withdrew General Mica from Darv, and Arthur should’ve been nearly finished with his role at the Wall.
That only left the elven Lance.
Could I withdraw General Aya from Elenoir and deny them reinforcements? Would I essentially abandon Elenoir by taking the Lance away or risk allowing another even larger army to step foot on our land?
221
Backtrack
ARTHUR LEYWIN
Cylrit, Sylvie, and I stood in the air above the canopy of trees. I gripped Dawn’s Ballad in my hand as I considered my options, none of which seemed good.
Despite Sylvie’s recent growth, she wouldn’t be able to handle the retainer by herself, but neither could she find Tess within the magical fog spread over Elshire Forest. The best option was to end this battle as fast as possible. However, expending too much energy and mana in a fight now could be detrimental for the real battles soon to come.
Sylvie, I’m pretty confident I can beat Cylrit on my own, but if his aim is to just stall for time, an extended battle works in his favor. Let’s wrap this up quickly—together.
While the speed of my flight was by no means slow, it was difficult to utilize my fighting style, which consisted of sharp movements and bursts of speed, in the air.
‘I agree,’ she confirmed, mana already gathering around her at an extraordinary rate. A solid panel of condensed mana formed beneath my feet, giving me a platform to fight on.
Expressionless, Cylrit merely lifted his greatsword into a defensive position as I closed in.
I focused on a space about three paces in front of Cylrit, and my bond conjured another translucent panel beneath my right foot. This allowed for another quick change in direction as I pushed off Sylvie’s conjuration. The retainer’s eyes calmly followed my movements and his greatsword remained steady.
Dawn’s Ballad whistled as its sharp edge cut through the air toward Cylrit’s chest, but my teal blade jerked off course and rang against the retainer’s pitch-black blade. It had felt as though Dawn’s Ballad were being pulled by an invisible hand directly into the behemoth sword.
The sensation disappeared as soon as our blades clashed, but when I swung again, Dawn’s Ballad was again attracted to his mysterious sword.
Frustrated and eager to end this fight quickly, I activated the first phase of my beast will.
Static Void.
The colors around me inverted, freezing everything but myself in place. I pressed the broken tip of Dawn’s Ballad into a gap in the motionless retainer’s armor, then released Static Void. Even at point-blank range, though, my sword veered away from Cylrit’s torso, barely nicking him while leaving me drained.
Damn it! I thought, grinding my teeth.
Sylvie reacted immediately to my failed attempt by conjuring another platform beneath my feet, which let me quickly gain distance from Cylrit.
I was breathing heavily; Static Void was a spell passed down to me from Sylvia, but it required manipulating aevum, which wasn’t compatible with my mastery of aether. Even as a white core mage, using it for extended periods was tiring.
“I was taught of the various mana arts that the asura clans had forged, including the ‘aether arts’ of the Indrath Clan. Experiencing it in person, though, I can see why it’s to be feared,” Cylrit said, looking down at his wound.
Having no intention of exchanging frivolities with him, I mentally nudged my bond.
Sylvie, fire a few shots behind him.
‘Got it.’
Just as arrows of mana manifested in the air behind the retainer, I launched a blast of frost and a bolt of lightning. The ice blast spread into a cone while the lightning branched off to completely cover our opponent, but to no avail.
With a single sweep of his sword, our spells were sucked up and completely eaten away by the black blade.
Sylvie snorted in irritation. ‘What a troublesome ability.’
Impatience welled up inside me as I watched Cylrit maintain his stance, not even bothering to attack. Instead, he made a show of pulling out a small scroll and reading it. When he looked up, his gaze shifted from Sylvie to me before saying, “One of my scouts has confirmed that the elven princess has been withdrawn from battl
e.”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe you and just walk away?” I spat.
Worried that the retainer’s ability to absorb mana might somehow damage Dawn’s Ballad, I sheathed the sword and conjured two frozen blades—condensing layer upon layer of ice to reinforce their durability—before rushing towards him again.
Cylrit’s cold eyes narrowed as I quickly approached.
The blades of ice clashed with his sword, generating a blast of pressure from the impact. Even with mana coating my weapons, several cracks had appeared from the impact.
Mending the scarred surface of the weapons, I launched into a series of cuts, feints, and counters. Again and again, my swords were forced to change direction mid-swing, always ending pressed against his blade.
Hoping there would be a bit of delay in between the gravitational pull from his sword, I purposely abandoned the ice swords, quickly conjuring new ones to strike again. The result was the same, but I tried again—and again.
“If your master is really on our side, this is a meaningless battle, Cylrit,” I growled, releasing yet another conjured sword from my hand and shooting a blast of fire at his legs.
That’s when I sensed it: Something within his weapon changed. Not visibly, but it happened just after the sword I had let loose was pulled into his sword and I had shot the fire.
I activated Realmheart, surprising both Sylvie and Cylrit, and did it again, throwing my other ice sword at Cylrit while simultaneously conjuring an arc of lightning.
The mana fluctuation within his greatsword—now visible to me with Realmheart—changed in the middle of his swing as he blocked both the solid composition of my ice sword and the mana-fueled lightning.
His sword can only attract one or the other at once!
Cylrit gazed at me with annoyance, and I was certain that he had realized what I was doing, but it didn’t matter. I knew his weakness.
Sylvie, capitalizing on our discovery, quickly cast the spell she had been preparing. Like a brilliant firework display, hundreds of sparks with blazing trails flew outward from her. Rather than fade, though, the sparks of light remained suspended in the air all around us.
A wave of fatigue leaked into me from my bond, but it was buttressed by her determination.
‘I need to concentrate fully on maintaining this mana art. Don’t let Cylrit near me.’
With a mental nod, I burst forward, using a condensed blast of wind to aid my acceleration. I didn’t know if we could pull off the sort of coordination we would need to follow through with Sylvie’s plan, but I committed.
Cylrit was obviously wary of the gleaming sparks of light surrounding him, but his attention remained focused on me as the more immediate threat.
A single blade of ice appeared in my hand as I approached the retainer. The spark of light beneath my right foot turned into a panel for me to push off of, allowing me to sharply change my direction. Another spark turned into a platform, and another, until I was dancing around Cylrit fast enough for him to lose track of me briefly.
‘Now!’ Sylvie expressed.
I pushed off a platform of mana directly behind the retainer, my blade poised.
Even without his powerful vacuum ability, however, Cylrit’s reflexes were at least as good as mine—maybe better. He whirled around, his large sword moving so quickly that it might have been a child’s toy.
The mana composition changed within his weapon and I felt my blade of ice being drawn off course.
Sylvie triggered one of the sparks of mana hovering nearby; a blinding beam of pure mana shot out towards Cylrit just as my blade clashed with his. The retainer, unable to alter his weapon’s ability fast enough, took the impact across his shoulder. The spell glanced off his armor, leaving an ash-gray scorch mark on the black metal.
I let the ice sword melt away, instead concentrating mana into my fist before swinging hard at my opponent’s face while simultaneously releasing a blast of lightning with my other hand.
Cylrit opted to absorb the lightning while using his own arm to block my fist. As he was reeling from the blow, I conjured a huge ice-blade and struck.
Off-balance and unable to redirect my attack, Cylrit took the full force of my blade right below his ribs. The mana around his body negated the brunt of the attack, but, by the blood leaking from the corner of Cylrit’s lips, I knew we had landed our first successful attack.
We continued to stay on the offensive, mixing spells with swordplay or even attacking with my own hands and feet.
It’s working, I thought to Sylvie.
My bond triggered another spark, releasing a blast of mana, while I hailed dozens of ice-spikes down on the retainer. Before either of our attacks could reach Cylrit, however, the retainer spun towards me. I barely managed to dodge the kick aimed at my face, but his foot still scuffed me on the shoulder.
Tumbling back in the air, I was still trying to regain my balance when I saw a black object advancing directly at me. It was Cylrit’s sword, along with the barrage of icicles, which were being pulled towards it.
I grabbed on to one of Sylvie’s suspended sparks to stop myself from tumbling, and four other sparks lit up and connected to form a large barrier between me and the sword. The dark blade pierced through Sylvie’s mana barrier, but the ice shards all shattered on impact.
I dodged Cylrit’s weapon easily enough, but the retainer followed up with an explosive mid-air dash to launch another kick.
Barely managing to duck out of the way, I imbued my fist with lightning, but as I tried to strike at him, a force pulled the spell surrounding my fist back behind me.
This gave Cylrit enough time to land a solid punch to my jaw. The mana protecting me soaked up some of the force, but my vision still swam from the impact. I dodged the next blow and tried to gain some distance from him but he stuck closely to me.
Around us, the sparks glowed threateningly; Sylvie was waiting for a chance to release another blast of mana. Cylrit’s sword was still pulling at my lightning-cloaked fist, leaving the retainer open—
“Do it!” I roared.
A note of panic and confusion bloomed in my bond’s mind, but I expressed my confidence and determination.
Sylvie fired everything she had.
The sky lit up as every single spark fired a bright beam of mana directly at us.
Though my instincts shrieked for me to dodge out of the way, I grabbed hold of Cylrit and held him in place instead.
‘Arthur!’ Sylvie’s horrified voice screamed in my head.
The retainer struggled to break free from my grasp, his attention focused not on the spell but on his sword behind me. It was obvious that he was trying to get his weapon back, but I smashed my forehead into his nose to distract him, keeping his focus on me. I repeated the headbutt again, then a third time, until the heat from Sylvie’s mana beams radiated across my back.
Static Void.
The world grew still again; the cluster of beams was inches away from us.
I tried prying myself away from Cylrit, but the retainer had been holding onto the fur-lined mantle that Virion had passed down to me. Scrambling, already feeling the fatigue, I pulled free of the cloak and dropped down out of harm’s way, then released Static Void.
Color shifted back to normal and I watched from a distance as Cylrit’s figure disappeared within the beams of mana.
Damn. So much for not wasting my energy, I cursed myself.
Cylrit’s abilities made it a bad match-up and there was still much to be desired from the coordination between Sylvie and me; our timing had been off at times, and because of the complexity, we were limited in the number of platforms we could utilize. However, we managed to win without any serious injuries—a large improvement considering we got our asses handed to us by Uto, the last retainer we fought.
Cylrit’s figure plummeted down into the canopy of trees and fog below, but with Realmheart, I knew he was still alive.
I shared a tired look with Sylvie as we prepared t
o finish our journey to the elven kingdom, when a mild shock-pulse from within my pocket brought me to a stop.
It was the transmission scroll linked with my sister. I quickly unrolled it and read the short message now inscribed on the vellum.
Brother, please help. They’re dying. Come quick.
My hands trembled as I read and reread the message on the scroll. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t decide. I fumbled with the scroll, trying to shove it back in my pocket, but once that was done, I still floated there, irresolute.
The silence lingered for several long moments before Sylvie’s voice echoed in my head. ‘Arthur. Let’s go.’
Sylvie understood my struggle, but appeared to have made up her mind. She quickly shifted into her draconic form, swooped underneath me and scooped me up.
‘We’ll assume that the retainer was telling the truth for now. Right now, your sister needs us back at the Wall.’
222
Dim Tunnels
MICA EARTHBORN
The bouncer, a thickly muscled dwarf wearing a two-sizes-too-small tunic that strained against his chest and biceps, glowered as I approached. The bar was in a deep and distant tunnel well away from the bustling central caverns, and I had seen none but the worst sorts in and out over two days and nights of observation. Many Alacryan soldiers, survivors of the Battle of Slore or agents left within Vildorial, the capital city of Darv, still skulked within the tunnels, aided and abetted by a group of dwarven radicals. I was sure that several had stayed here recently, though I hadn’t seen them come or go.
Stepping forward and holding out a hand, the bouncer said, “Sorry missy, I think you’re in the wrong place. Better turn around and—” Blood spurted from his mouth as his jaws were forced shut, biting down on his wagging tongue. His knees buckled, and he collapsed.