“Don’t call them that. You make those pompous pricks sound like they’re worthy of respect,” Nurevia whined.
“Should I call them winged elves instead? Isn’t that what you call them in your language?” Nathan asked.
She blinked at him. Then she stared at the other Champions while pointing a finger at him. “Do you ever get used to this? Just asking.”
“Not really. You slowly get accustomed to it, then he brings up something really crazy and you’re back to square one,” Narime said.
“It’s great!” Fei chirped, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Nathan wasn’t sure the alcohol had worn off on her yet.
Midnight approached while Astra was missing. The servants prepared some hangover cures for Ciana and Fei. Seraph practically poured one down the catgirl’s throat, as Fei hissed and fought like a cornered wildcat.
No Champions or guards showed up to investigate the fight. Nathan knew others must have sensed the fight. Too much magic had been used. Astra’s involvement likely scared them off, or something else was in the works.
Ciana rested next to him, her legs shuffling nervously. The others patrolled the floor, while Nathan used spatial magic to investigate his surroundings. Now that he had been detected, he didn’t bother trying to hide. Ensuring that he knew what was going on was the top priority.
The powerful wards of the Spires interfered with his magic. Nathan knew very little about the Spires, given their age. He was surprised at how their intrinsic wards interfered with his spatial detection spell. The effects were subtle, but he had enough experience to recognize them.
The wards gave him false readings, which changed when he poked at them. Determining reality became difficult.
Would Narime realize this with her spells? Had she ever known this in his world, when she had used her spells to investigate the Spires? Questions for later.
“I’m sorry,” Ciana mumbled.
Nathan looked up, his concentration broken.
“For what?” he asked.
“I couldn’t help again.” She stared at the floor, eyes wide and shimmering with tears.
“Ciana, I already told you—”
“That doesn’t matter. I was sleeping this time. I should have…” A hiccup interrupted her.
He ran a hand over her cheek. As if he had broken through an intangible barrier, Ciana turned and threw her arms around him. He winced at the crushing grip compressing his rib cage.
Luckily, Ciana’s enhancements weren’t for strength. She was strong, but Nathan slept with a rowdy Fei on a regular basis. This was nothing.
His hands ran through her hair and tail. He murmured soothing words to her while she sobbed into his chest. Nothing sensible left her mouth. Slowly, she recovered.
Despite that, she remained in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He knew what this apology was for.
“Don’t. I’m your Bastion. It’s my duty to support you.”
She giggled. “Isn’t it the other way around? I’m supposed to protect you. Shouldn’t I be your shield to protect you from the world? To fight off attackers like Astra and conspiracies like this? I…”
Her head buried itself in his chest again.
“I took too long to see Leopold’s pain. He kept so much from me. Protected me while he raised me like a daughter,” Ciana said, her voice muffled as it rumbled against his body. “When I saw what happened to him after the cascade, all I could think of was whether this would happen to you.”
Nathan listened quietly. He rubbed circles over her back.
She continued, “I’m weak. Leopold trained me, but he wanted me to replace him. To become the first beastkin Bastion in the Empire. But I… I threw it away, because I was so scared. You and Leopold fought the Messenger together, and he nearly died. Then you invaded the Federation alone. Could I really protect you if I became a Bastion? Would I ever be happy like that?”
Finally, Ciana looked up at Nathan, her horse ears flat against her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this before I became your Champion. I told Leopold, and he understood but…” she trailed off.
Nathan chuckled and rubbed her cheek with one hand. She squawked with indignation when he pressed his thumb into it.
“But you were worried I’d try to convince you otherwise? I don’t know why you care so much about me, Ciana, but I’m honored you do,” he said. “Nothing has changed.”
She blushed. “It’s difficult to say why. Leopold thinks it’s because I’m a unicorn beastkin. But what I remember in those weeks we were together was how open you were. You treated me like an equal, even though I’m not. That’s why the letters hurt. You cut me out from the war. I thought you hated me, but everything else was the same. Any question I asked, you would have answers for that others patronized me about.”
Letting out a deep breath, Nathan gently held Ciana at arm’s length. “I guess I should apologize then. The letters hurt you more than I expected. I left out the war, because I didn’t want to talk to you about something you had no control over and…” He paused and a lump formed in his throat.
A sad smile crossed her face. “It’s because I died, isn’t it? In your timeline?”
He closed his eyes. “Yes. It’s not something I can forget.”
“But I’m here, Nathan. I’m not dead. And I’m going to be your shield.” Her arms dug into his back, and she grinned up at him. “Don’t forget that when you give me my diamond gem.”
“Astra’s back,” Fei called out, interrupting them. She stared at the two of them together, her cheeks puffing up in jealousy.
Nathan stood up before the catgirl did anything foolish, motioning for her to calm down. As he walked away, he knew he heard Ciana say something more.
“You won’t need to do those sorts of things anymore,” Ciana mumbled to herself, eyes hard.
He glanced back at her, but she merely smiled back.
The arrival of Astra shifted his attention to the situation at hand. Sureev was with her, dressed as impeccably as ever. Bags drooped under his eyes, but he appeared to be alert.
“I think some of that vodka would be good,” the ambassador said, making a beeline for the abandoned bottles and glasses. After the earlier incident, they had been set aside.
Nathan and Astra joined him around the coffee table. The common room was enormous, so there were plenty of tables and sofas to use. Sureev raised an eyebrow at the wreckage from earlier, but said nothing. Instead, he served up three glasses. Nathan stopped him from pouring any more.
“Did you spend an hour dressing, or is something going on?” Nathan asked. He drank very slowly.
“Both.” Sureev chuckled. “It has been a very long couple of days. I’m not used to being in the Council chambers for so long.”
Nathan straightened up. “Are you going to elaborate, or…?”
After a long sip of his vodka, Sureev did so. “Both portals are currently under attack. A terribly unstable situation. The Bastions are requesting that we withdraw all our forces to the Spires in order to reinforce our homeland. Until the invasions end, they have also placed the Council—and therefore the entire Jormun Spire—under a protective lockdown.”
Astra shrugged when Nathan gave her a questioning gaze. “Don’t know.”
“This has been the case for days?” he confirmed.
Sureev nodded.
“Must be one hell of an invasion.” Nathan shook his head.
“You don’t need a lifetime of political experience to understand they are lying. Fortunately, I have that, and I can tell you this is more than a lie.” Sureev drained his glass and poured another. “The Bastions are pressing the Council to make an immediate decision. This will irreparably harm relations with the Empire—to say nothing of the dangers of the Houkeem Desert—so I’ve been arguing your case for hours on end sometimes.”
“Why the rush? Doesn’t the Council usually take weeks or months to make decisions?” Nathan asked.
&
nbsp; “Usually. This matter was shelved before you arrived, in order for Torneus’s trial to take place. But you’ve scared them. Perhaps somebody knows something.” Sureev glared at Nurevia.
She raised her hands. “I don’t know anything about this crap.”
To Nathan, it didn’t matter. This confirmed his worst fear: a military coup in the Spires.
Something occurred to him.
“They’re all backing one another? The Bastions, I mean,” Nathan asked.
“Yes. That is the concerning part. They’ve been under suspicion since the cascade, as only they and the Council members have the ability to close the portals,” Sureev explained.
Nathan nodded. He knew about the failsafes in the Spires. The ancient technology of this place was linked to the nearby portals, among other things. Ordinary people could control the demonic portals.
For now, it was the only place in the world where this could be done. The secrets of the dark elves helped Falmir immensely in their magical science developments. Nathan planned to recreate many of those with the help of the Empire’s mages.
“The Council,” Astra asked, leaning forward. “Their thoughts?”
Sureev scowled. “They’re playing their cards close to their chest. It’s smart. If one of them is working with the Bastions, or a traitor, then they can eliminate the other councillors and declare them as the cause of the cascade.”
Devious.
“Somebody has to know something,” Nathan said.
“The best source was about to go on trial,” Sureev pointed out.
“True. And that trial hasn’t started yet. Talking to him is a good idea.”
“I’ll try to get you access once we resolve this situation.” The ambassador finished his second glass, but didn’t pour a third.
Nathan nodded. He wasn’t sure if Torneus would be of help after this matter was dealt with, but answers were always nice.
“The Council needs to delay long enough for either the general public or our legend to intervene.” The ambassador inclined his head at Astra. “I suspect this is why the Bastions have moved so fast. They are worried that you might stop them.” He stared at Nathan.
Ciana suddenly piped up, “But can’t they control Astra? I know Bastions have ways to keep Champions in line.”
“Not here,” Astra growled.
Sureev frowned, then his expression turned thunderous. “You’re speaking of heresy.”
“To your race, yes. The rest of the world weaponizes their Champions more…” Nathan shifted uncomfortably. “More thoroughly. If a Champion rebels, a Bastion can overload her gems and shut them down, or they can pump binding stone power through their mental link and kill them.”
Everybody stared at him. Including Seraph, for once.
“You know how to do that?” Seraph asked him.
For once, he had a good excuse. “It’s part of the academy’s training.” His tone was flat. “I don’t expect to need it.”
She let out a breath, and he didn’t miss the way her expression lightened.
“So, we don’t need to worry about Astra,” Ciana said.
“No.” Astra’s gaze was hard.
The atmosphere slowly settled. The clock ticked past midnight.
“Are they still up there?” Nathan asked.
“They should be,” Sureev said.
“You said we’d crack heads,” Seraph said. “Is that your plan?”
Nathan opened his mouth to reply, but Astra stood up instead.
“It’s mine,” she declared. “He’s up there.”
With those words, she strode off.
Everybody stared after her. Sureev and Nathan looked at each other.
Cursing, Nathan finally realized what Astra likely planned to do. “Narime, stay down here and protect Sureev and Ciana.”
“What? Why?” she asked, tails rising.
“Because you can teleport,” he shouted as he ran after Astra with his Champions.
He caught Astra at the elevator. She held the door open, and they rushed in. Once inside, she slotted in a key, turned it, then shoved the lever all the way to the top. The cage door ratcheted shut.
Then the elevator began to rise.
Nobody said a word.
“This is political,” Nathan said, looking down at Astra.
“Traitor,” she replied.
Everybody else stiffened. He rolled his eyes.
“Use more words,” he reminded Astra.
“He’s a traitor,” Astra corrected.
The others relaxed.
“Are you really going to kill him?” Nurevia asked. “I mean, it’ll be hilarious, but it seems like a really dumb idea.”
“I am Astra. I protect the Spires.” The trigem Champion’s eyes reflected nothing of the outside world.
Nathan felt a shudder down his spine. Astra looked up at him and grimaced.
“Even now,” she said. “You see death.”
“What?”
“My death. You see it,” she said. “In your eyes.”
Is that why she kept talking about his eyes? He didn’t quite follow.
“We’ll talk after this,” he said.
“Good.”
The others stared at him. Nurevia appeared to want to strangle him. She knew nothing about his secrets, and it infuriated her.
When they arrived at the top, a mass of guards greeted them. A pair of monogem Champions stood guard. They raised their weapons and their amethysts glowed.
Then Astra stepped out and they froze.
“Leave,” she snapped.
Nobody moved.
Astra’s opals glowed. She raised her hands.
Weapons clattered on the ground. Guards sprinted in every direction. The Champions held their ground.
Or at least, they did for a few seconds. One fainted, collapsing to the ground. The other refused to move. Fei pushed her over when they passed, giggling as she did so.
“Don’t be mean,” Seraph said. “That could be us.”
Fei tilted her head. “Is she that strong?”
“If she wanted to, she could have splattered me against the wall.” Seraph made an exploding motion with her hands.
Fei’s eyes widened in terror. She clung onto Nathan’s jacket as they strode up the final steps to the Council chambers.
Guards fled as they approached. Champions and hunters retreated, gesturing to each other.
Nathan wondered how many dark elves he would have had to kill if he didn’t have Astra with him.
Too many.
Also, he knew there was no invasion taking place. Half the Champions in the Spires were here. Someone expected an invasion, but it wasn’t of demons. Given they weren’t fighting Astra, who did they expect to attack?
“You, probably,” Seraph said. “You might have missed it, but you kind of terrify people.”
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes. At least, the intelligent ones. A few old friends have asked me about you.”
That wasn’t the reputation that Nathan had wanted to build. Or the one he thought he had built.
Maybe he needed to spend less time in his castles, surrounded by fawning beastkin. For that matter, he wondered what they really thought of him. He only saw those that liked him. How many feared him, or hated him?
They reached the ramps that led to the chambers. The floor turned to a dark slate. Memories assaulted Nathan of past visits.
This time, he wasn’t visiting the Council to beg for their assistance or ask them to abandon their home.
He stepped forward, Astra next to him.
Voices echoed off the sandstone walls. Marble balconies sat high on the tall walls. A deep chill set into his bones as the cool outside air met his skin. The council chamber faced an open void on one end. Anybody who fell from it plummeted to certain death. Maybe Astra could survive it, but nobody else could.
Over two dozen Champions stood around the edges of the chamber. On the balconies sat the five elected councillors
of Aurelia. Each sat on an ostentatious throne and wore enough piercings and jewelry to fill an entire store. Armored guards stood next to them instead of Champions. Nathan suspected those guards were trained spellblades or mages.
In the center stood a spindly man with wiry hair. He ignored Nathan and continued to argue with the Council in the dark elf tongue. Nathan didn’t understand his words well enough to follow his rapid fire talking.
As it turned out, it didn’t matter.
Astra walked forward. A pair of hunters tried to block her path. Astra’s opals flared, but the hunters didn’t move. So she sent them sprawling across the chamber.
Silence fell.
All eyes fell on Astra.
“Traitor,” Astra said, pointing at the man in the chamber.
Then she popped her Bastion’s head like a ripe melon.
Chapter 23
The dark elf Bastion’s body collapsed, the remains of his head splashing all over the stone floor. Everyone in the chamber stood frozen.
A subtle web of magic expanded from his corpse. Dozens of threads of magic snapped into existence, connecting the body to the Champions that once belonged to it. One of those extended to Astra. Nathan felt the ghost connection form between Bastion and Champion for one last time. He saw the shocked expressions cross the faces of many women in the room.
Then those threads shattered. For an instant, a hole formed in Nathan’s magical senses, as if magic had been sucked out of the world. Then he felt nothing.
The Champions reached for their gems in a panic. They flailed about with their arms, some shouting nonsense. A couple cast ordinary spells, but seemed disappointed at the results. None of their gems lit up.
With the death of their Bastion, their powers as Champions were lost. They could be reactivated, but it was far more difficult process than simply transferring a Champion to a new Bastion. Right now, they were the closest to human that a Champion ever became.
Astra stood perfectly still, her hands still outstretched from where she had pressed them together in the air. Her opals had dulled.
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