The Beginning After the End: Book 7: Divergence

by TurtleMe

  “That thing?” Bairon pointed, squinting to see it. “It’s a bit conspicuous for a hidden shelter, isn’t it?”

  “That thing isn’t the shelter, it’s the landmark Buhnd made to mark the shelter’s location,” Virion corrected, bending forward against the wind and walking toward the standing stone.

  Once close enough to see the pillar properly, Virion pointed to a deep gash in its center and said, “We start from here. With your heel against the pillar, we take 35,651 steps forward.”

  Bairon, Sylvie, and I exchanged glances before looking back to Virion. “Really? This is the only way to find the shelter?”

  “For now, yes,” Virion answered. “The shelter itself branches off into various tunnels that haven’t been explored, though, so I’m hoping that more entrances may be discovered.”

  Sylvie looked from the pillar to Virion. “If this is the only way to get to the shelter, it’ll be almost impossible to bring normal civilians here discreetly.”

  Sylvie was right. If we could only bring a few people to the shelter, there was no point. I could tell that Virion realized this too. He turned away, gazing in the direction we were expected to walk.

  “Well, we’ve come all this way. Let’s go to this shelter first, then we can talk about logistics,” I suggested, resting a hand on Virion’s shoulder. “Lead the way, Gramps.”

  It was a rough journey. Virion walked heel to toe while I kept count, so we couldn’t fly or use any shortcuts. Under normal circumstances, such a trip would have required significant preparation. However, for a group consisting of two Lances, a silver core mage, and an asura, we were able to get by. Our mana-barriers kept us safe from the cold desert air and sharp winds, and we were able to draw fresh water from the atmosphere when we grew thirsty.

  “I can take over from here, Commander,” Bairon said. Virion had just taken step 10,968.

  “No. Your feet are larger,” I pointed out. “It’ll throw us off.”

  Bairon glared at me, but I ignored him and signaled for Virion to continue walking. We travelled in silence. Sylvie even blocked her mental link so she wouldn’t accidentally break my concentration with her thoughts—or perhaps so she wouldn’t have to hear me monotonously counting numbers in my head.

  Though the journey was long and tedious, I found the counting to be meditative; I cleared my mind of all else and focused on keeping track of our steps.

  We did stop every few hours so that Virion and Bairon could stretch and rest. They were still recovering, and, while their bodies had healed, both men seemed somewhat diminished, and the trek through the sands was taxing. The sand pulled at our feet, and the wind always seemed against us, regardless of the direction we faced.

  Sylvie had checked on the state of their damaged mana cores early on in the journey, but it seemed like the only way they’d be able to recover would be by giving them time to rest. Virion seemed to have come to terms with his injuries, but Bairon’s frustration with his limitations was clear; the Lance kept pushing himself to manipulate mana, infusing his legs with mana to better withstand our long march through the sand and keeping his own mana shroud up, yet a constant litany of frustrated curses followed us as we marched. Though both Bairon and Virion tried, neither of them were able to utilize elemental magic.

  After another ten thousand steps, Virion’s pace was faltering, and the old elf started to shiver.

  “Virion,” I said firmly, gripping his arm and sending a wave of heat through his body. His cheeks immediately reddened as the blood rushed back to his pale face. “Let me know when you’re getting cold.”

  “T-thank you,” he replied with a weary smile. “And don’t worry, I’m tougher than I look, brat.”

  I watched as he walked on. His once broad shoulders seemed so narrow and weak as he hunched forward. For the first time in my memory, Virion appeared old.

  So continued our long, slow march through the desert, illuminated only by the pale moon and stars. We couldn’t even cast a light for fear that a Scythe or retainer might be nearby. Though it felt as though we would never reach our destination, finally, I reached the last number.

  “We’re here,” I announced skeptically. Around us was only sand, as far as my mana-enhanced vision could see.

  Bairon, Sylvie, and I all looked at Virion. Our commander was bent over, holding out a white, pentagonal medallion and sweeping it back and forth.

  “What is that?”

  “I’m not sure exactly, but we found several of these inside the castle when we first discovered it. It seems to be a relic from the mages of the past,” Virion answered, not taking his eyes off the sandy ground.

  “You mean the same ancient mages that had built both the floating city of Xyrus as well as the castle?” Bairon asked, glancing around us nervously.

  Virion nodded and continued to walk in circles, waving the white medallion in his hand as if it were a magnifying glass.

  I’d heard about these ancient mages now and again. Many of the previous artifacts that helped the Dicathen civilization grow came from the ancient mages. It’s safe to say that, without the teleportation gates and the mana-rich atmosphere of the floating city of Xyrus, most of Dicathen’s lands would’ve remained untamed.

  Many artificers and researchers believed that the ancient mages had either discovered the technology to transport themselves to another world, or had wiped themselves out while conducting a large-scale experiment of some sort. Based on the lack of evidence supporting either of these theories, most of Dicathen’s scholars had more or less given up on finding out what had happened to our ancestors, according to what I’d read.

  Virion had been at it for quite some time, and Bairon, Sylvie, and I were growing restless. The old elf let out a frustrated grunt and turned back to us. “It’s not here.”

  “What do you mean it’s not here?” I asked, en edge of frustration creeping into my voice. “You said that taking 35,651 steps straight while facing away from that gash on the pillar would lead us to the shelter.”

  “I know what I said!” he snapped.

  “Then what do we do?” I knew Virion was just trying to do what he thought best by relocating to this shelter, but I couldn’t help but chafe at the wasted time spent trudging through the desert when I should be searching for my family.

  “I don’t think we have a choice. We’ll have to start over again,” Virion said, his voice falling and his eyes turning away, staring back the way we had come.

  “No,” I said forcefully, my patience at its limit. “We just wasted the better half of a day counting our footsteps because you wanted to find this shelter. There has to be another way to get in.”

  “Well there isn’t!” he shot back, walking towards me, his eyes suddenly blazing. “You think I want to be out here after my entire family was taken from me? Huh? If it was solely up to what I want, I’d be marching with my men to face the Scythe and die in battle—then, at least I would feel like I’d done what I could to avenge them. But that’s not what a leader does, Arthur. When everyone else has given up, I’m the one that has to hold onto a semblance of hope, and fight for the future!”

  He stabbed a gaunt finger into my chest. “So don’t you dare say this is what I ‘want.’”

  I stood there, speechless, as Virion walked away. Bairon’s expression mirrored my own, and even the howling winds seemed to fall quiet.

  “Wait,” Sylvie said, breaking the silence. She turned to me. “I noticed this earlier, but I couldn’t quite figure out what I was feeling. I think the artifact that Virion is holding influences aether. Arthur, can you activate Realmheart?”

  I did as she asked, eager to try anything if it would prevent us from having to take this arduous hike again. Igniting Sylvia’s dragon will, I felt a sharp pain spread out of my core and through my body and limbs from the backlash of overusing my mana during my battle with the Scythe. However, as my vision shifted to monochrome and specks of color began lighting up the world around me, I felt a jolt of excitement
. Amidst the tiny motes of yellow, green, blue, red, and purple, I found something in the distance.

  We must’ve shifted off course during our hike here; several hundred yards to my left, there was a cluster of purple aether that shone like a beacon.

  “Sylvie, you absolute genius! I found it. I found it!” I grinned around at them like a fool, my frustration and anger washed away in an instant.

  Sylvie’s eyes brightened at my words and thoughts. She immediately transformed into her draconic form and plucked both Virion and Bairon from the ground with her front claws.

  I flew ahead, just above the ground, the speed of my passage leaving a furrow in the sand below me. It took only moments to reach the circular array of purple motes.

  “It’s here,” I said, pointing directly to the center of the array.

  Virion disentangled himself from Sylvie’s claws and hurriedly scrambled to me, holding the artifact tightly as he placed it over the sand. A look of relief passed over his face, as if he had just set down a great weight.

  “You’re right. This is the place,” he said, looking at the white medallion on top of the sand.

  Bairon arrived too, his brow raised in doubt. “Nothing is happen—”

  The medallion began to vibrate. Its vibrations caused pulsating waves in the sand around it, spreading several yards out in all directions. The pulses got stronger until the rolling sand formed small waves.

  Sylvie and I exchanged wary glances, but before we could do any more, the ground below us sank and we fell through the sand.

  243

  Passage of Time

  Instinctively, I shrouded myself in a sphere of wind, keeping the sand away as I gently floated down to the ground. Sylvie did something similar, enveloping herself in a black sphere that protected her and slowed her descent.

  Virion and Bairon, with their cores damaged and their magic largely unusable, didn’t fare as well. Virion was at the epicenter of our descent and so slid down the large mountain of sand that had accumulated below him. He ended up sitting on his rump on the floor, dirty but uninjured. Bairon, despite his lightning-enhanced reflexes, fell several yards before striking the mountain of sand, then bounced down head over heels. He yelled desperately, then must have got a mouthful of sand, because he broke out into a fit of choked coughing.

  He flailed his arms like a drowning puppy for several moments before he realized he was on solid ground. Virion shook his head while Sylvie, who had emerged from her black sphere, turned away to hide her laughter.

  Bairon spat out a mouthful of sand while glaring daggers at me. “You! Should a Lance be so selfish as to leave his—his commander to plunge down into unknown dangers like that?”

  “I was in no danger, Bairon,” Virion countered, dusting the sand off of his robe. “Now quit playing in the sand like a child.”

  Bairon’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he quickly bolted up to his feet, wiping his sandy mouth and tongue on his sleeve as he coughed. Despite his spiteful glare, Bairon and I both knew that he couldn’t do anything about it. With the state he was in right now, I could destroy him with a snap of my fingers—not that I’d want to, of course.

  “Arthur,” Sylvie said, her voice echoing slightly. “Look around.”

  Her words brought my attention back to the mysterious underground tunnel we were in. Although there were no visible sources of light, it was surprisingly easy to see.

  “Are those glowing symbols runes? I’ve never seen anything like them,” Bairon wondered aloud, his hand hovering over a rune that pulsed with faint light. “They must be runes, but I don’t sense any fire or lightning affinity mana around them.”

  Sylvie brushed her hand over the runes, which seemed too perfect to be engraved by hand. “That’s because it isn’t powered by mana.”

  “What?” Bairon said, his brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s impossible.”

  “No, she’s right,” I said, activating Realmheart Physique once more. Sylvie’s thoughts had leaked into mine and I just had to verify it for myself. To my utter amazement, the entire cave lit up like a starry night, bathing the area in purple. “It’s powered by aether.”

  My mind spun as I tried to make sense of this revelation. I ran through the conversation I’d had with Sylvie’s grandmother, Lady Myre, in my head. Everything she had told me about aether being an entity that couldn’t be manipulated like mana—but rather, influenced or coaxed into action—seemed directly contrary to what I could see in front of me. If aether wasn’t something that could be confined and used, then what were we looking at? It seemed clear as day that someone or something had figured out how to do so.

  “Let’s keep going,” Virion announced, taking the lead. “There’s more of this down here.”

  Prying my eyes away from the runes, we continued to walk. Much like in the desert above us, the air here was dry and stale. The only sounds came from our footsteps echoing through the tunnel. The floors were smooth and polished, and the ceiling above us rose as we made our way down the hallway, soon reaching so high that it became lost in darkness.

  Despite Virion’s familiarity with this place, I couldn’t help but be cautious. My eyes darted left and right, looking for anything odd, but, except for the unusually high concentration of aether gathered here, there was nothing dangerous that I could sense.

  ‘You’re feeling uneasy here as well,’ Sylvie noted, sticking close to me.

  I think it’s just because of all the aether here, and the runes… I thought aether only influenced time, space, and life?

  ‘I suspect that the walls aren’t just made of stone but some sort of living thing,’ she responded.

  I carefully touched the walls for the first time and realized that Sylvie was right. It wasn’t stone as I had assumed; it felt more like a smooth tree trunk.

  So aether is giving this tree life?

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine at this point. I may be able to utilize aether, but you can see the ambient mana; I have to go by my gut feeling.’

  The straight passage seemed to go on forever, with no end in sight.

  “How far away are we from reaching the actual shelter?” Bairon asked, sounding tired and impatient.

  “I’m not sure. It hasn’t been long since we arrived. Be patient,” Virion replied.

  Bairon’s eyes widened. “Not long? Commander, it feels like I’ve been walking for nearly the entire day!”

  “Bairon, aren’t you exaggerating? I’ve got over a hundred years on you, and I’m also without mana right now, and I feel fine,” Virion argued.

  He was right; Bairon might’ve been exaggerating, but it did feel like I had been walking for quite some time. Yet, Virion—the weakest amongst us—seemed to be doing just fine.

  Sylvie, how long have you been walking for? I asked, activating Realmheart again.

  ‘Not more than an hour—wait, a few hours have passed for you?’ she asked, reading my thoughts.

  Can you try utilizing aether?

  Picking up on my intentions, she replied, ‘But I can’t use it to control time.’

  I know. I don’t think you have to, though.

  Taking a deep breath, Sylvie began calling upon the ambient aether. Her body glowed with the faint purple light she gave off while using vivum to heal herself and her allies.

  Immediately, a surreal sensation akin to falling in a dream tugged at my body—and then, as if I had really woken up, an indescribable clarity spread through my vision.

  ‘Arthur, look behind you,’ Sylvie said, shaken.

  I looked back down the hallway; we had traveled barely thirty steps from the cavern we had arrived in.

  Noticing that I had stopped, Bairon turned around as well. He immediately tensed, taking an involuntary step backwards. “Th-that’s impossible. I’ve been walking for hours. How—what is going on?” Bairon demanded, turning back around and looking from me to Sylvie and back with wide, frightened eyes.

  “My best guess is that these runes carry in
them the power of aevum and spatium,” I explained, gesturing to the intricate runes carved into the walls.

  “Aevum and spatium?” Virion asked.

  “Time and space aether arts,” Sylvie answered absentmindedly. My bond had a faraway look, and I could feel the confusion within her.

  Bairon scoffed and shook his head. “No, that makes no sense! Shouldn’t these time and space ‘aether arts’ affect us all the same way? How is it that Commander Virion only felt like he’d walked for an hour while it feels like I’ve been journeying for more than a day!”

  I thought for a moment, and my gaze drifted to the white medallion, still clutched tightly in Virion’s hand.

  “Because of that.” I pointed to the artifact. “This is a trap! Anyone entering without a medallion must get caught in some kind of time-pit, giving whoever built this place enough time to react to intruders. I bet that having the artifact is enough to make passage through easier.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you two weren’t affected,” Bairon retorted, obviously upset.

  Though I couldn’t blame him for his anger, I still wanted to reach out and slap him. I could feel Sylvie encouraging me to be patient, however, so I let out a deep, calming breath before continuing. “Most likely, it’s because Sylvie is naturally inclined to aether that she experienced only minor effects. For me, I can only guess it’s because I’m sensitive to aether. I was still affected but not nearly as much as you.”

  Bairon looked like he wanted to continue arguing, but apparently he couldn’t think of anything else to say. After a long moment of silence, Virion stepped in.

  “Come on. Let’s continue,” Virion urged. “With Lady Sylvie using aether, the effects of the time and space aether don’t seem to be affecting us.”

  Sylvie took the lead, continually utilizing aether to suppress the time-magic effecting Bairon and me. As we walked, I tried to wrap my head around what exactly had happened. I had so many questions… How had the ancient mages succeeded in harnessing aether arts to such an extent that they could devise traps like this? Was the time and space manipulation isolated to each person individually, or were we in some sort of contained area?