by Matt Russell
"Tacitus will definitely go after our loved ones to get to us if we let him," Cassian said. "He needs a second starborn to enact all of Bacchid's plans for this world." His eyes narrowed. "You have a sister, correct?"
"Yeah," Telemachus muttered, staring at the bark on a tree across from him as beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. "She's fourteen..."
Cassian put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "We will move quickly. I searched every corner of the Emperor’s mind. He has not yet ordered his men to go after your family. There is still time."
His mind spinning, Telemachus said: "I'll get them myself."
"No," Cassian said, his voice hard. "I need you with me."
Telemachus shrugged free of his brother's hand and glared. "Why?"
"Because this is a race," Cassian snapped. "There is a mortal somewhere in the world that has the power to kill Tacitus. We have to find that person before he does."
"How?!" Telemachus exclaimed with an exasperated shrug. "You said Tacitus himself does not know where to find this individual. Do you?"
"No,” Cassian replied.
Telemachus gestured around the camp to the contingent of perhaps a few hundred soldiers and the dragon. "This is all we have at our disposal! Tacitus Adronicus has the largest army in history under his command. How in the hell are we supposed to find someone he could not in over twenty years with all the resources of Denigoth to wield?"
"You and I are more capable than any of his servants," Cassian said. "That is the advantage we have. We will work together – you, me, Keska, and even Livia now. We are the starborn of this generation, and, unlike him, we can approach this vessel without fear of instantaneous obliteration." Cassian drew in a deep breath and said: "That is why our Emperor has remained in his palace for over two decades. He has no idea from what direction death might come for him, and he is terrified."
Telemachus blinked. "So... this mortal vessel—with power on par to Tacitus—is not dangerous to ordinary people?"
"No. Only to demons."
He raised an eyebrow at Cassian. "And this person isn't you? You're the Messiah, aren't you?"
"I do not know the significance of my being anointed by the Gods," Cassian said, biting his lip. "I do know that when I slashed open Tacitus's throat with my magic, the wound just started closing up. I cannot kill him, but there is a person in the world who can. We must find him... or her."
"Then what?" Telemachus exhaled, stroking his forehead. "When we find this remarkable mortal, what do we do? Are we going to attack the palace – kill our way through the city and the whole Imperial Guard?" He shut his eyes, feeling completely overwhelmed. "What about the craith? What about the hundreds of thousands of soldiers Tacitus can summon from every corner of this world? Gods, Cassian, is it even possible to fight him?"
"The task before us is extremely difficult," Cassian said, his green eyes burning with intensity. "Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of being able to turn away from it. We are the points of the star. This burden falls to us because no one else can take it up. Do you not understand that?"
"Of course I do," Telemachus whispered. "All the same, I was hoping your plunge into Tacitus's mind might yield some sort of stratagem that did not lead to mass slaughter."
"So was I," Cassian said with a tense shake of his head, "but I discovered no simple tricks to defeating the Emperor. In fact, doing so seems nigh impossible at the present moment, but if we cannot find a way, then this world will be plunged into countless millennia of darkness. The demons will rise again. All that is good will be corrupted or destroyed, the Gods will be driven away, and a vile religion of greed and lust and hatred will rise and be forced upon the poor, damned souls who remain."
"Why?" Telemachus said in a dry voice. "Why is Tacitus doing this?"
"He was tricked," Cassian sighed, gazing down at the ground, "at least that is one way to put it... not that it matters. Understanding why does not help us, I promise you, and we have far more pressing issues."
Telemachus clenched his jaw, weighing Cassian's words. All of this was moving terrifyingly fast. In the span of a few moments, his entire world had been upended, and now he had to fight alongside his half-mad brother against a demon-starborn with not only the resources of the Denigoth Empire, but possibly even the unknowable multitude of demons that hid on the edges of the world. It all felt like a surreal nightmare.
“We need to contact the Onkai,” Telemachus finally said.
"Do you think they would believe us?" Cassian said with a shrug. "Tacitus has been touted as the savior of the human race for a generation."
"But you are the Messiah," Telemachus said, "proclaimed to all by the Norn herself."
"Yes," Cassian whispered, pursing his lips. "It is a card I am hesitant to play. Once I do, I will be plunging the empire into civil war."
"Is there any other way?"
Cassian grimaced. "The truth is... I do not know. I hope some answer will come to me, but none has." He cast Telemachus an uneasy smile as he said: "I cannot do this alone. You, Keska, and I should be making decisions together—even Livia when we find her."
A nervous chuckle burst from Telemachus's throat as he said: "You mean you're actually willing to listen to us for once?"
Cassian reached out a scarred arm and gripped Telemachus's shoulder once more. "We are in this fight together, and I doubt we shall all live to see its end." He swallowed, hesitating, and then whispered: "You have long been a better brother to me than I to you. I am sorry for that, and… I am sorry for killing Dimitris.”
Telemachus blinked. They had never spoken of the death of their brother. There had been complete telepathic silence between them for over a year after it happened, and they had only resumed conversing by degrees, never mentioning the terrible subject.
"I am sorry for so many things," Cassian went on. "I have been an arrogant, self-righteous ass for most of my life, and now I know that it was all predicated on the manipulations of Tacitus and his demon master." His eyes moistened, but no tears rolled out as he added: "I cannot take any of it back, but I can stand with my brother and sisters against the doom of our world. Will you accept that?" His fingers tightened on Telemachus's shoulder as he rasped: "Please?"
Telemachus bit his lip, then murmured: "Yes."
"Thank you," Cassian said with a nod, and then he released his grip and walked over to his dragon. Titus, who had been curled up as an enormous ball of scales, claws, and horns, lifted his blazing golden eyes and made something like a reptilian smile as Cassian patted his head.
Telemachus remained still, watching them. He knew Cassian had meant every word from the bottom of his heart, yet, at the same time, he could not be trusted. Telemachus had not shared with his brother the prophecy the Norn had spoken to him when she appeared shortly after he had given Somar Dojinko the deathly pill and sent him to the Nemesai dungeon. The words echoed in his mind now with sickening clarity:
Telemachus's heart rumbled in his chest as he watched Cassian scratch the dragon's throat and grin. For all of the brash arrogance, and even after the death of Dimitris, Telemachus loved his brother. Was he supposed to somehow kill Cassian if matters went awry? Even if he could bring himself to take such an action, he had primarily dedicated his studies to healing magic and spells to help rather than harm, while his war-minded-sibling had somehow constructed a spell in a matter of minutes that had ripped a hole in the world down to the molten liquid below. Telemachus also knew in his heart that if it ever came down to a fight to the de
ath, both he and Keska would hesitate to deliver the final blow, where Cassian would not.
"Gods..." he whispered, gazing up at the darkening sky.
Epilogue:
The Emperor gazed down at the twitching face of his son. Arkas's pale skin was covered in a sheen of sweat that glistened in the soft glow of the candlelight. The two of them were alone in Arkas's chambers save the dozen craith that stood against the walls. It was best if no one saw what was about to happen.
Tacitus put a hand on his son's damp hair and ran his thumb gently over the boy's temple. He had loved this child once. At least he thought so. His heart had become something distant to him, though it was still there—the part that brought him failure. Arkas was the first of those failures. Tacitus could recall the decision, two decades before, when Bacchid had revealed to him that a second starborn would be needed. He had believed until then that he alone had been chosen for immortality and ultimate power. The proclamation had stung.
"C-Cassian," Arkas rasped, his pallid lips trembling at the name.
"Sh-h-h," Tacitus whispered, patting his son's head. "There is no need to fear him now."
"Father?" the boy panted.
"Yes, I am here.”
"You... you h-hate me," Arkas panted, and his breathing accelerated to a frenzied pace for a few seconds, then broke into a series of moans.
"Nothing is your fault," the Emperor said, his voice soft. The words were only a partial truth. Everything Arkas had done wrong had, by definition, been the result of his ‘faults,’ but Tacitus was responsible for those deficiencies. He had made alterations to Arkas's mind, eviscerating the capacity for such troublesome aspects as compassion. It had all been part of a careful series of calculations that had failed miserably. No starborn other than himself had ever turned to the forces of hell, but Tacitus had wanted to create one that would have very little trouble with the concept. It all might have worked if he had possessed the competence to bind a starborn aura to a child without any gift whatsoever for magic, but the task had proven far too complicated for his human intellect to carry out. Arkas had become a pale imitation of a starborn, filled with all the ruthless ambition Bacchid might have desired but none of the mental talents innate in those chosen by the comet.
The Emperor let out a low sigh. He should have killed the baby girl—the one who was now calling herself 'Livia.’ But murdering a beautiful infant... The demon inside him had urged the action, but Tacitus had not wanted to admit to himself that he had become so vile a creature. What threat could she ever pose with the minuscule fraction of power left to her? He had wrapped her in a blanket and left her in the center of a nearby village in the early morning to be found. A baby who could not cry... He had not known what would happen to her, but the sin was washed from his hands. That had been his thinking.
Always, it was the man inside of him that made such errors. The demon was untroubled by mercy or the pride of a human heart. It would have killed Cassian Asango in an instant rather than draw the moment out in order to show the boy how foolish he was. But then... had it wanted Asango to survive? Tacitus had never fully understood the way the darkness guided his actions. It seemed to know things he did not. There was a lingering sense in the back of his mind that it still had plans for the young Messiah.
"The N-Norn... Cassian will kill me, father," Arkas rasped.
"No," the Emperor whispered, and then he took a breath and added the lie: "You are safe."
"I w-want you to... choose me.”.
"I did," Tacitus sighed, and he thought but did not say: But Bacchid chose differently.
"Thank you!" his son exclaimed, a wide grin playing across his thin face.
"You are welcome, now rest.” Perhaps Arkas's soul would ascend to some distant heaven. After all, his sins derived from alterations Tacitus had made to his brain. Could the boy truly be to blame for anything he had ever done?
The Emperor had asked a similar question about himself many times over the years. The Cosmic Demon had shattered his happiness with nine words whispered in a dream. Cassian Asango must have seen that moment just before the second demon war had begun. Bacchid’s burning face, vast and terrible, had come to him in the midst of sleep, eclipsing all thought as it hissed:
Tacitus had stood before the Norn five days later, stumbling in as a disheveled wreck of the rising starborn he had been. Every waking moment since the dream had been pervaded by the sickening fear of eternal torment. With tears running down his face, he had begged the Norn to tell him the demon had lied.
There were arguments to be made that Tacitus’s choice was ultimately noble. Though the Demon War had claimed hundreds of thousands of lives, it could have been millions if the conflict had not been brought to such an abrupt halt. Daibok’s forces had descended upon nigh every corner of the world, and this had left many small kingdoms and tribes weak. After the conflict’s end, the Denigoth army had been able to move in and expand the territory of the empire as never before. Tacitus had been able to create order on a scale humanity had never known, for there had been no one and nothing that could oppose him. His acts of supposed evil had resulted in unparalleled peace and order for the human race.
The Emperor shut his eyes and rested his palm against the side of his son's head. A quick, infinitesimal burst of power would put an end to Arkas's pathetic life. Tacitus felt himself tremble. Love was a weakness. He was a demon still trying to convince himself he was a man, and he could no longer afford such delusion. A man could not live forever, after all. The wrinkles in his skin and gray in his hair were an illusion. His true form had not aged in nearly fifty years, and it never would. He would be locked in his body a thousand years from now—ten-thousand years from now—a million... No mortal mind had the stamina for such an existence, but the darkness inside him could endure on through eternity. It was better simply to surrender to it, and perhaps with this final sacrifice, he could cleanse himself of all human weakness.
"F-father," Arkas whispered.
"Just rest, my son.”
The boy's pale lips rasped out: "I... I need to tell you... I h-have the weapon."
"What?" The Emperor said, frowning, staying the burst of energy a moment longer.
Arkas wheezed: "The Norn... she told me h-how to kill you, but n-now that you've c-chosen me... I don't need to d-do it."
Every muscle in Tacitus's body coiled in shock, and he felt the evil aura inside him leap to attention as well. "Arkas," he hissed, his limbs shaking, "what did the Norn tell you?"
"W-where to... f-find her, father.” His son looked up and smiled. "Y-you never thought I could do anything right, b-but I found her—the girl that can... d-destroy you."
Tacitus began to tremble. Without even realizing what he was doing, he dug his fingers into his son's scalp and reached in with the psychic strength of a cosmic demon. As the boy s
hrieked in pain, Tacitus saw the moment, years ago, when Arkas had asked his three questions of the oracle, and he saw the answers she had given. His son had waited for years to find the promised 'weapon' that could kill him, and then a slave of all people had fallen into his lap. Tacitus saw the girl. IONA! His destroyer! The boy had hidden her away with his grotesque, half-ogre comrade, but Tacitus could see where she was clearly in the boy’s memories. She was there now!
The Emperor ripped his hand away, laughing aloud as Arkas began to thrash on the bed from the psychic damage Bacchid’s power had inflicted. Tacitus could not believe the gift his pathetic offspring had given him. A quick slice to this Iona's throat and all his fears would be forever ended. Cassian would have no way to stop him. His soul would never know the fires of damnation!
There was no time to hesitate. Tacitus stood and whirled around to the strongest of all his craith, his blood pumping like liquid fire in his veins as he grinned and snarled: "Kota, there is someone I want you to kill!"
End of Book II
Dedication:
Though this book is dedicated to all my children, I feel like all of this was most guided by my little girl, Lilly. I didn’t know I was going to write a young adult book series until I watched my tiny baby start to become a person. It was then that I knew what I wanted to say, and how I wanted to say it.
I love you, Lilly, and I’m so proud of who you are,
--Dad
Acknowledgments
Editor – Angelique Russell
Editor – Stephen Parolini
Proof Reader – Kristina H Russell
Wattpad Proof Readers who have provided me with invaluable help, mentioned here as I have known them, in their usernames:
