by Stone Thomas
“And even then,” Vix said, “we barely made it out of there before the whole place was blown to bits. Kāya’s anibombs explode when they sense movement, but with Duul’s cretins running amok and turning the men into cursed fighters—”
“We’re talking about an entire army,” I said. “The men from Meadowdale were let loose on your village too. If we want to break the curse and bring normalcy back to Valleyvale, we need to kill all of Duul’s minions, and Kāya too.”
“You will do no such thing,” Nola said. “We’ve talked about this. We won’t kill gods to win this war. We won’t become the very evil we’re fighting against.”
“Kāya won’t stop until you’re dead,” I said. “She needs your power of premonition to prove her worth to Duul. Plus, the Great Mother made it pretty clear: if Kāya lives, you die. If it’s her or you, I don’t have a choice.”
“We will not fight this war according to Duul’s rules,” Nola said, “or the Great Mother’s. No gods die at our hands. End of discussion.”
“Wait,” I said, “does that include Duul too? The god that killed your own mother? Where is this war heading if not killing him?” I asked. I felt my face flush.
“Find another way,” she said.
“You find another way!” I said. “You’re the one with all the clever ideas, remember? I’m marching toward certain death to protect you and you’re concerned for Duul’s wellbeing?” I swallowed hard and fought back watering eyes. Maybe Nola’s vision bothered me more than I was ready to admit.
“Certain death?” Vix asked. “What does that mean?”
“Nola had a premonition,” I said. “She thinks I’m going to die.”
“Not just thinks,” Nola said. “I don’t know if there’s a way around this one.”
“No,” Vix said. “No, no, no. You can’t die on us. You can’t die on me.”
“I will never forgive Duul for what he did,” Nola said. “I’ll never forget any of the gods or men that helped him kill innocent deities, torment peace-loving people, and tear families apart. When this fight started, I wanted to grow stronger just to survive. There’s more at stake here now.
“People are losing faith. They’re losing the will to resist Duul. Even without a curse, they’ll devolve into petty infighting and laying blame until they’re divided, worn down, and ready to submit to Duul’s order because any order is better than anarchy.
“I’ve seen where this is going. I don’t just float idly inside my crystal shell. I scan the future for signs of what’s on the way, and any shred of information that can help us change it.
“If we start killing gods too, how do we promise anyone that the future can bring peace and hope?
“We start by letting Kāya live, even if she wants me dead. It’s more charitable than she deserves, but charity is our greatest ally in this fight. We can’t do this alone. We need other gods, other cities, and other armies to side with us. Let’s give them a reason to, by proving that we stand for something different.
“The second Duul makes murderers of us, the war is over. He’s won. If we can prove that his supporters have somewhere else to turn, we may win this thing yet. When we face off with Kāya, we don’t kill, we convert. We make her our first ally.
“And so, about that weapon you carry,” she continued, pointing at my Vile Lance. “I forbid you to use it.”
I sank back in my chair.
“How does it happen?” Vix asked. “How does Arden die?”
“It’s his death,” Nola said, “and he has made the respectable, asinine request that I not share that.”
“Arden,” Lily said. “You can’t keep this to yourself. We rely on you. Tell us what happens.”
“I can’t,” I said. “I don’t know what Nola saw. I don’t want to know.”
“You can’t hide from something just because you’re afraid of it,” Vix said.
“You did run away from home, Vix, just to avoid Loxin,” I said. Her nostrils flared as she let out a low growl in response, so I hastened to add, “Which I support a hundred percent, and which is actually nothing like this, so nevermind that.”
“I vote Nola shows us anyway,” Lily said.
“Seconded,” Ambry said.
“This isn’t up for a vote,” I said. I kicked back from my chair and walked to one of Yurip’s windows to survey Halcyon. It was still in rough shape after our recent battle. People lacked proper homes, our surrounding wall was missing large chunks of stone, and our gates and defensive towers had taken a beating.
Building, rebuilding, leading, fighting, protecting — it required everyone to focus. I couldn’t let anyone wonder whether I’d still be around tomorrow. Halcyon needed a leader without the burden of imminent death hanging over his head.
“You could leave,” Nola said. “We could all watch this little horror show without you and work behind the scenes to prevent your future disemboweling.”
“Disemboweling?” I asked. “Is that a spoiler, or just today’s word-of-the-day?”
“Arden,” Cindra said. “Look around this table. These are the people that care about you most. Well, and Yurip.”
The lawmonger looked up in a hurry. He had been peeking under the table, shuffling sheets of checklist paper as if we wouldn’t realize it.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m a very focused multitasker, devoting all of my attention to each task one at a time. What were we saying?”
“How much you all care about me not dying,” I said.
“Confirmed,” he said. “I’d prefer you live. Was it unanimous?”
“We’re not voting,” I said.
“Right,” he said. “Because it’s not a secret ballot. We’ll need to set up proper voting polls, which I will add to my list of administrator duties.”
“Arden,” Cindra said. “None of us would know how to carry on without you, and this news is deeply troubling. We want to help you. But I know you too well to think that would change your mind.
“More than you care about your own safety, you care about what happens to the people in this room; the people that left their homes to join Halcyon; your future children; and the goddess that brought us all together. I know watching your own death will be difficult, but I’m asking you to do just that. For us. If there’s even a chance that seeing this version of the future could help us protect ourselves and each other, you can’t keep it from us for a very simple reason: you’d never forgive yourself if we got hurt too.”
I kept staring out the window. I hated that she was right. Nola was capable of reading my thoughts, but Cindra always saw deeper than that. Her negotiatrix class was a perfect fit for her.
So, Nola said. This is tense. Are you tense? I’m feeling tense. Is this a bad time to ask for one of those massages?
You’re tense?, I asked. It’s my future on the line.
What can I say?, Nola asked. The future is tense.
Your bad jokes aren’t helping, I said.
Yes, they are. I want you around as long as possible. A little levity, even in brevity, increases longevity. So does seeing how you die and preventing it. Just sayin’.
“Fine,” I said. “Cindra’s right. You’re all right, but this vision can’t leave this room.” Everyone nodded. “Nola, can you share your premonition with us?”
“Leave me out please,” Yurip said. “I can’t bear it. The last time we watched one of these premonitions it was terrifying. I still have nightmares about it. I’m surprised there’s not an imperial decree requiring warnings and waivers before a god shares visions like those. I’m tempted to draft a provisional decree myself, pending the—”
“Okay,” I said. “Yurip gets a pass. Everyone else, all aboard the Dead Arden Express.”
+5
I closed my eyes and waited for Nola to transport me to a vision of the future. I opened them when I heard the first round of explosions.
A low-hanging haze obscured the finer details of my surroundings. Overhead, the sky was unnaturally black,
with a full moon hanging just above the horizon.
A few small buildings sat further behind me along a dirt path. Something glinted in the low light as I approached the first of them. It was a polished metal sign that read: “Hinnabee’s Sweet Shoppe.” The shop was dark inside, and empty. There were no workers, no shelves, and not a single sweet.
Another series of explosions rocked the ground and added to the layer of smoke suffocating the street. Then I appeared, the future version of me slated for an untimely death.
Old Arden — at least, older than me, since he was in the future — or was I old Arden in the past and he was a newer version of me? Was I real Arden, and he was fake Arden, living in a future that hadn’t come true yet? I could just call him “Arden,” since to me I’m just me…
While I worked out my minor existential crisis, I followed Arden as he charged down the dirt road with a long shining spear in his hand. It wasn’t the Vile Lance I carried now, the first of many facts I’d take note of.
Chasing after Arden were a pair of black metallic cretins with sharp, jagged teeth protruding from round, eyeless faces. They aimed ribbons of dark magic at the fearless hero, but he was too strong to succumb to their paltry curses.
With a keen eye and a firm grip, the handsome, well-coiffed warrior charged a Piercing Blow that destroyed the first cretin, then he deftly activated the skill a second time, eliminating both threats mere instants apart.
So far I was really getting a kick out of this, to be honest. This guy was kickass with those spear skills. They should write a book about him or something.
He stared at the mangled cretin corpses as thick, dark lifeblood escaped their wrecked bodies. He glanced toward me for a moment, his deep blue eyes piercing my soul. The space around them was black, like someone had taken a crayon and drawn circles around his eyelids.
A roar behind me highlighted the obvious. Arden wasn’t looking at me; I wasn’t really here. He looked through me, into the dusty haze that blanketed this place and toward the source of that throaty, garbled roar.
Something shaped like a man burst forward, running at full speed through the ground-level clouds. His body was a blur of red, wrinkled skin. I struggled to follow him as he chased Arden further down that dirt path and away from Hinnabee’s Sweet Shoppe.
This was Duul. This was the god of war, who had sworn to attack Halcyon himself the next time we faced off. Still, this didn’t look like Halcyon. At least, not the Halcyon we had now.
The chase ended outside a stone building built like a cylinder with a wide gap in the front, forming a doorway with no door. It was an odd, dark little building, without any apparent purpose.
“Nowhere left to run,” Duul said.
The two fought for a long time. Arden took what shots he could, but the god of war was too large and wielded his dense, black sword with too much force. With each thrust, Arden looked more tired while Duul seemed unfazed by their deadly dance.
Explosions rocketed through the air, drowning out their taunts and responses. I peered through the haze, determined not to lose track of the battle as they traded blows.
Arden stood, leaning on his weapon for support. White hot energy, like a tongue of flame, engulfed his body as he pointed his spear toward Duul. The longer he held his ground, the wider that aura of burning energy grew.
“Enough!” Duul yelled. He taunted Arden with words I missed through the raucous sounds of fighting and explosions in the background. Then, “Kāya! Bring me the body of the Great Mother’s golden descendent. Claim the power of prophecy her line has guarded for centuries. Tonight, the future is ours!”
“No!” Arden yelled, surrounded by his own brilliant energy.
Duul’s sword was a thick black blade that curved to a point. Red energy pulsed from its hilt, rising up the handle and engulfing the blade in flickering magic like a crimson flame. He sliced it forward but Arden rolled, out of the way and closer to the god that attacked him.
Arden’s body was barely visible in the center of that billowing ball of white light. He knelt on one knee, pointed his spear upward, and released an attack I knew all too well. Piercing Blow.
Arden rammed his polearm into Duul’s knee, releasing dark red blood from the deep puncture when he yanked it free. The massive god of war kicked Arden in retaliation. Arden landed on his side, then rolled onto his back as he clenched his eyes against the pain of that impact. His pants were wet all down one leg.
Duul bent over Arden and laughed. He plunged his sword through Arden’s chest, hooking the curved blade through his heart and lifting the weapon into the air as Arden’s lifeless body hung from it. His eyes opened, just a crack. Something in the distance caught his attention. A brief look of despair washed over him as his eyes fell shut again.
Duul whipped his weapon forward, tossing Arden’s body off his sword and flinging him toward the stone cylinder not far away.
I ran to my fallen body as blood pooled beneath it. Get up, I thought. Get up, Arden!
He didn’t stir. A thick brass ring hung from the large part of his ear. I reached for my own ear instinctively. I had no piercings, and no plans to get one. The tattoo-like mark Avelle left on my chest was adornment enough.
Unless it wasn’t. As I looked closer at the mangled body on the ground, something glowed from beneath the slick of blood, sweat, and dirt that covered Arden’s neck. It was another mark, shaped like three red lines.
Arden’s chest didn’t rise and fall with breath. His eyes didn’t blink. Whatever hope he had of stopping Duul from conquering Halcyon was dead.
+6
Nola took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap, batting long eyelashes against her golden face as she blinked away oncoming tears. “It’s exactly the same as the first time I saw it, and yet it still feels just as raw.”
I just sat there, my face buried in my hands. It was one thing to hear Nola say I would die. It was another to witness it.
“I want to see it again,” Vix said. “There may be details we missed, like clues about where this takes place, who else is there, and whether Duul has any weaknesses we can exploit.”
“We have to be careful how many times we do this,” Nola said. “Every time we spy on Duul’s future, we run the risk that he’ll notice us and take over the premonition. I didn’t think anyone could be that powerful, but he did it to Arden and Yurip when we were preparing for the last assault. As it was, I had to send you off to individual instances of the premonition so we wouldn’t all group together and make our presence more obvious. I don’t have the energy to do that again just yet.”
“How much time do we have?” Cindra asked.
“Ten days until the moon is full,” Nola said. “Somehow that’s enough time that Arden gets a new tattoo, an ear piercing, and applies a generous amount of eyeliner.”
“I guess facing his own mortality sent him into a punk rock phase,” Lily said.
“Would you prefer emo?” I asked. I didn’t mean to come off as sarcastic, but my mind was still in a stupor. My new look was the least of my concerns. Whatever that new weapon was, it didn’t stack up against Duul, and neither did a flashy new polearm skill that smothered me in a cloud of blinding light.
“I’d prefer,” Vix said, “if we could find a way to fix this. We need to make a list of all the things we saw, and find out how to change them. How can we stop Arden from getting an earring? We could chop off his ears, for starters. Arden?”
“Do whatever you want,” I said under my breath. Then a hand clapped me on the shoulder.
“Arden,” Gowes said. “My outlook for you is never dire. Nola was always going to show you that vision, and it was always going to weigh on you, but right now you are very much alive. You can find a way around this. It’s not like you’re trying to change the past. It’s only the future, after all!”
Of all the people to provide the voice of reason, I thought. I wanted to dismiss his words as empty encouragement, but they slowly seeped into my mind. Maybe
he was onto something. Maybe the future was mine to make.
“Uncle Gowes,” Nola said. “You always do this.”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Act like reckless advice and a dash of hoping-for-the-best will save the day. Remember the time you ‘helped’ an old woman looking for a new line of work? The one who ended up with a horse between her legs?”
“Everyone needs a reliable mount,” he replied.
“But she was looking for a satisfying job,” Nola said.
“I told her animal husbandry should bring her joy. It seemed like a good fit at the time for someone who said she was fond of animals.”
“But you didn’t elaborate,” Nola said. “You left her thinking animal husbandry meant marrying a farm animal.”
“She found herself a nice old stallion on his way to the glue factory and bought him his freedom and a future,” he said. “As I understand, they had a very stable relationship. Win-win!”
“And yet,” Nola said, “she never found her true calling. Just like you’re not helping Arden with his actual problem of not dying.”
“Gowes could be right,” I said. “Your premonitions don’t always come true. I don’t feel like I’m going to die, and a lot can happen between now and this distant vision.”
“Gowes is a lot of things,” Nola said, “but right usually isn’t one of them. This future may not be distant at all.”
“Unfortunate news can weigh heavily,” Eranza said, “but Gowes has always helped those willing to believe the best to avoid the worst. No one can doom us better than we can doom ourselves. If pessimism is a self-fulfilling outlook, why would optimism be any different?”
I felt like a weight had been lifted. The momentary curse of my own demise had vanished. I was going to live, and not even die trying!
“Then it’s settled,” I said. “We put off pondering paranoid premonitions and perfect a plan to evict the violet villainess vexing Valleyvale.”
“Does this mean we’re not chopping off your ears?” Vix asked. “It seems like a small price to pay, considering human ears aren’t good for much anyway. Mine tilt so I can hear the faintest sounds from far away. Yours are just gnarly skin flaps that collect dirt and wax.”
