The Beginning After the End: Book 7: Divergence

by TurtleMe

  It’s so dark, I’m seeing spots, I thought. Then I realized the points of light were holes appearing in the black diamond as the mana bomb detonated, eating through the hardest substance known to man or dwarf like acid through parchment.

  Unable to escape, I layered mana over my body, pushing everything I had into a protective barrier. Everywhere the glow touched, I could feel my power being burned away.

  Then, in a brilliant flash of light, the world turned upside down.

  234

  Following Orders

  The quiet tension had dissipated, replaced by the guttural roars of our soldiers and the trembling of the earth as they charged forth.

  Even with all of my knowledge and experience in the battlefield, both in this life and the previous one, my nerves were on fire with excitement.

  Sylvie felt it, and she was in a similar state. Her rush of adrenaline mixed with my own barely-contained anticipation as we gazed down at the approaching enemy forces moving with care through the fields of snow and ice.

  We leaned forward, watching expectantly as our forces collided with theirs. Our front line was an organized wave of soldiers with allies ready to back them up and provide cover, but their forces seemed disorganized, missing the tactical efficiency I’d seen from the Alacryans in previous battles. It was difficult to make out the specifics, though. The mist that shrouded the battlefield obscured the fine details.

  Even the scryers behind us were barely able to give us any information aside from the fact that our enemy troops all wore little to no armor and their equipment in general seemed to be a hodgepodge of clothes and common household items-turned-armor.

  I wanted to be down there, in the midst of the battle. It was torture, standing above it, listening to the thunder of feet, the clashing of steel, the screams of dying men. It all blended together, a cacophony so loud that I could feel the tremors through the soles of my feet.

  Can you tell what’s going on? I asked Sylvie.

  My bond only shook her head.

  I turned to Varay. “Maybe we should get rid of the mist, General. I can’t tell what’s going on down there.”

  She refused. “We know what’s on their side. We have to keep them from knowing what’s on our side. Deviating from the plan at this stage is impossible. Wait for Bairon and the Council’s orders.”

  I was irritated but held my tongue. She was right—and more than that, it wasn’t my place to give orders here. I had refused the position because I couldn’t handle the responsibility right now. Who was I to do as I pleased just because I felt uneasy?

  Choosing to trust Varay, Bairon, and the Council, I watched and waited for my time to come.

  Flashes of light followed by a wave of cries and screams soon caught my attention.

  It looks like the Alacryans have already sent in their mages, I conveyed to my bond.

  It was a little disconcerting that they’d deploy their mages so early on in the battle. However, I remembered what Agrona had said about how Alacrya had so many more mages due to the experiments that he had performed over several generations.

  ‘Their mages seem to be spread out inconsistently, though,’ Sylvie pointed out.

  She was right. There were areas on the field where flashes of magic were close together or clustered, while in other areas, there were several dozen yards between each sign of spells being cast.

  Again, a sense of unease filled me, but I remained quiet. My eyes scanned the battlefield through the shroud of mist emanating from the icy ground, trying to find any signs of a retainer or Scythe.

  Suddenly, movement above us caught my attention. Looking up, I saw a fleet of mages riding on winged mounts.

  “The aerial fleets are here,” Varay announced as dozens of mages sailed overhead and into the battlefield.

  There would be three main forces in play during this battle. First were the infantry, responsible for making first contact and keeping a constant pressure forward, preventing the Alacryans from taking any ground. Next were the aerial forces responsible for creating disarray within the Alacryans’ rear line by dropping spells on them from above. Finally, there were the Lances.

  The aerial forces lit up the foggy backdrop with their spells, raining down motes of fire, bolts of lightning, and shards of ice.

  The cries and screams began to blend in with the other background noises of battle. Seeing Varay’s gaze as she studied the battlefield intently, I could almost see the burden of their deaths pressing down on her shoulders.

  The battle continued for more than an hour before my patience frayed.

  “General Varay, let me go down there too,” I requested.

  “No. It’s too soon,” she replied, studying the battlefield. “The first wave will fall back in the center, drawing the Alacryans after them, then these divisions will close in like a vice. That’s when you’ll go down.”

  I was itching to get down there, to feel useful. I wanted to prove myself, and to begin the long task of avenging my father.

  ‘It’s okay. We’ll have our time to contribute, Arthur,’ Sylvie said. ‘Besides, it looks like the tide of battle is in our favor.’

  This was true. I could make out the vague outlines of formations from where we were standing, and our forces seemed to be holding the line, whereas the Alacryans were falling nearly as fast as they could reach the shore.

  Varay turned her piercing gaze to me. “You’ll go in and target only their powerful mages. You will only be in the field for an hour at a time.”

  I nodded in understanding. Varay and I were the only white core mages present. I couldn’t tire myself out in case a retainer or Scythe—perhaps both—showed up. Facing the enemy elites was our most important duty.

  “Get ready,” Varay instructed.

  I hopped onto Sylvie’s back, sheathing myself in mana.

  A horn trumpeted from the left side of the bay, followed immediately by another one from the right.

  “Go!” Varay ordered. “And don’t die.”

  I thought she was joking, but her severe expression said otherwise. I gave Varay a stern nod, then Sylvie beat her powerful wings, causing the mist to whirl around us.

  We stayed low, passing just over the next line of soldiers as they charged forward, until the ground changed to snow.

  Fight in human form and focus on supporting our troops. I’ll handle picking off the Alacryan mages, I directed as I jumped off Sylvie’s back.

  ‘Got it. I don’t sense any retainers or Scythes, but be careful, Arthur. Always be careful,’ she replied as she shifted into her human form and banked left, quickly disappearing into the chaos.

  I landed hard on the icy ground, kicking up a cloud of frost. Behind me, I could hear the thunder of armored boots as a line of augmenters charged forward into battle. Ahead, I could see our first wave of troops trying to withdraw. Much of the white field had been stained red, and corpses covered ground. More would join them as the battle progressed.

  Drawing Dawn’s Ballad, I imbued it in pale blue fire and held the blazing sword aloft for those behind me to see.

  “For Dicathen!” I roared, leading the battle mages in their charge.

  We surged around our own forces, who were slowing falling back, then broke out amongst the Alacryan ranks. I was surprised to find them bloodied and disorganized, some soldiers clustered together while others were off by themselves. There was no front line, no division of forces to utilize their specialized magic.

  Casting aside my doubts, I clad myself in a cloak of lightning and fire and let out a battle-cry as we approached the scattered enemy force.

  The charge forward may have been an awe-inspiring sight, but the clash was dreadful. I felt it just as much as I heard it: metal shrieked and rang, men screamed in pain. The faint hum of magic was always present as both sides unleashed a torrent of spells.

  My first opponent fell to a single slash from my sword. Several more followed, and they all fell just as quickly, but it wasn’t just me. Our line of a
ugmenters was swiftly moving through the Alacryan soldiers, delivering a catastrophic number of casualties while we took next to none.

  The first enemy mage that I found was by himself, surrounded by fallen Dicathian soldiers. His shoulders were hunched with exhaustion; his entire body was terribly thin with a sickly pale tone. Tendrils of lightning hung from his hands like whips, hissing and popping where they touched the snow.

  He snarled at me like a starving animal—desperate and deranged. I thought back to the Alacryan mages I had fought at Slore, how focused they had been, how organized. This savage mage had nothing in common with those men.

  Setting aside my curiosity for the moment, I rushed forward, conjuring a blade of ice and lightning in my free hand and swinging it with all my might. The crescent cut through the enemy mage’s torso before he even had a chance to lift his lightning whips.

  I moved on, looking for my next target. I tried to focus on my task amidst the chaos of battle, tuning out the cries of both enemies and allies. I gazed around the battlefield, still concerned at the lack of organization amongst the mages, who themselves appeared to be few in number.

  Stains of pink from snow-mixed blood could be seen more often than white itself, and in some desperate places, the ground had turned a dark crimson. Severed arms still clutching onto weapons, chopped off legs, and split-open heads littered the battlefield like leaves after a fall storm.

  Had it not been for the experiences of my previous life and the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I would’ve knelt down and retched on more than one occasion.

  After an hour, Sylvie and I regrouped and headed back to the lookout where Varay waited.

  I could feel the grief and horror emanating from my bond, and my state of mind wasn’t much better. We were welcomed back by the applauding and cheering of the soldiers gathered at the rear camp, but that only made it worse. Most of the soldiers who’d fallen back to the rear were injured, many unconscious.

  I couldn’t help but wonder: How many of these soldiers’ missing limbs had I run across out in the battlefield?

  Medics ran around carrying supplies while the few emitters available in this particular camp were already on the verge of backlash from overusing their mana. But despite all of the activity and noise around us, I felt like I was watching everything through a thick, foggy lens.

  “Good work,” Varay said, patting me on the back.

  I mustered a nod, then walked away, eventually taking a seat below a tree on the far edge of the camp. Sylvie sat beside me and the two of us silently gathered ourselves.

  I wasn’t tired. My mana reserves weren’t drained despite the near fifty men I had killed in that hour. In fact, my body felt lighter than ever. It was different from fighting against the beast horde; these soldiers had consciously and intentionally killed my people.

  The fact that I was killing because I was just following orders was merely an excuse for me. The order was just a shallow justification to let loose on the ones responsible for the death of my father.

  The day stretched on, the end of the battle nowhere in sight. Sylvie and I had gone down to the battlefield four times and we were getting ready for our fifth run.

  “Are you okay, Arthur?” my bond asked, gripping my arm gently.

  “I’m hungry, but I feel nauseous just thinking about food,” I replied quietly. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Sylvie nodded. “We’re doing a good thing though. We’ve saved hundreds, maybe thousands of lives by taking down those mages.”

  “I know, but it’s just—never mind,” I sighed.

  Reading my thoughts, she said aloud, “You still think something is off about them?”

  “I do, Sylv. We’re winning, so I’ve tried not to over analyze it, but it’s still on my mind. I haven’t exactly made an in-depth study of the Alacryans, but this—them,” I said, gesturing out to the field. “They’re not the organized troops that Agrona created. Not like those we’ve fought before.”

  “Maybe they were the elites,” Sylvie replied.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I sighed.

  Maybe I really had overestimated Agrona and the Alacryans. Despite all of the planning that they’d done over the years, the Vritra were still trying to invade an entire continent. It’s only normal for us to have an advantage.

  That was when I overheard one of the injured soldiers talking.

  I whipped around and ran to the man. He was lying on a table with a medic wrapping new gauze around his injuries.

  “What did you say?” I asked, causing him to jump.

  “G-General! My apologies. I shouldn’t have said something so outrageous!” he exclaimed, eyes wide with fear.

  “I need to know what you said just now. Something about ‘freed’?”

  “I—I just said that I felt a little… bad for them,” he answered, his voice dropping to a whisper. “One of the Alacryans, just before I killed him, begged me not to. He said something about being granted freedom if he lives.”

  “They would be granted freedom?” Sylvie echoed, turning to me with an expression of concern. “Do they enslave their soldiers?”

  It all connected, all of my questions, those little things that hadn’t made sense: how untrained the soldiers seemed, how spread apart their specialized mages were, the disunity amongst their troops, and even the lack of uniforms and armor to help them tell each other apart from their enemies.

  “They’re not soldiers,” I muttered, looking at Sylvie. “Those are just their prisoners.”

  Sylvie’s eyes widened in realization as she asked the question that really mattered. “So then, where are their actual soldiers?”

  235

  Tainted Blood

  ALDUIN ERALITH

  I watched as Merial gently stroked our daughter’s hair, tucking in loose strands behind her ear. Pale columns of moonlight enveloped them, lending a serene atmosphere to the quiet room.

  How long has it been since we were last together like this? I wondered. Too long.

  We’d spent the better half of the night talking, like a real family, until Tessia finally fell asleep.

  She had grown so strong, so beautiful. She was the spitting image of her mother, yet she had my stubbornness. Hearing her talk—hearing her really talk—about how she was doing and about her plans for the future… It was what I needed.

  It reaffirmed my decision.

  I made my way towards the door, taking one last look at my two girls. Merial looked up at me, and though her eyes were lined with tears, I saw in her the determination of the root that cracks the stone, of the tree that grows beyond the canopy to spread its leaves in the light, of the cicada that waits out the frost, buried within the roots. There were no more words to share, but she nodded, telling me everything I needed to know.

  Nodding back, my expression hard, I stepped outside the room. I’d been in the castle for several years now, but never before had it felt so large and barren. The sconces lighting up the hallway flickered wildly as I passed, almost like they knew and were rebuking me.

  I only made it a few steps before I relented under the pressure weighing down on me. I leaned back against the wall for support as the tension grew in me, spreading through my face and limbs like wildfire. My breath came in stuttered gasps and my heart hammered so fiercely against my chest that I feared my ribs would crack. The empty corridors tottered and spun with every little movement I made, until, like a drunkard, I stumbled and fell to the floor. I buried my face in my knees, clutching at my hair with trembling hands as I thought back to last night’s conversation.

  I saw Arthur’s bond in her human form. Her demeanor was casual yet refined as she approached me.

  “What is it now?” I snarled, taking an involuntary step back. I knew exactly who it was. It was obvious just by the way she carried herself and the expression on her face that this wasn’t actually Arthur’s bond—it was Agrona.

  “How very curt of you, King Alduin,” she—or rather, he—replied.
“I thought we were friends.”

  “Friends? I did what you asked, but my daughter still almost died out there on the field! If it wasn’t for General Aya—”

  “If my soldiers purposely avoided her like she carried some sort of plague, your daughter wouldn’t be merely bruised by her own inadequacy,” he interrupted, expressionless. “She’d be suspicious, and that isn’t something you want.”

  I ground my teeth in frustration. “Why are you here? I’ve done what you’ve asked. I smuggled in your men so they could kill the prisoners.”

  “I’ve come for a different matter, King Alduin,” he said. “Currently, our sides are engaged on the western shore. For you—for your people—that must have been a terrible blow. It means, of course, that you’ve abandoned your home.”

  The emotional side of me wanted to lash out at him. How dare he come in here and talk as if he had nothing to do with it, as if it weren’t his troops that had driven the elves out, but years as a political figure had trained me to keep silent and mask my expression.

  “I wanted to hear it from your own lips,” he continued. “Where does your loyalty lie?”

  “What do you mean? Letting you kill prisoners that have no use is one matter, but if you’re suggesting—even remotely—that I betray my people—”

  “Not ‘betray your people.’ You already did that,” he cut in. “I’m asking if your loyalty lies with all of Dicathen, from the barren deserts of Darv all the way to the coasts of Sapin—where elves are captured and sold as slaves even today—or with your kingdom, your people.”

  I didn’t answer, and I knew he felt my hesitation.

  “I will cease the attacks on all elven territories. As long as they do not attack any Alacryan, your people will be guaranteed safety. This extends, of course, to your wife and your troubled child.”