The Arclight Saga

by C. M. Hayden

  She found Briego inside the Curia, speaking to several of his senior magisters. He looked relieved to see her. “Kyra, thank the gods you’re all right.”

  “I’ve been better,” Kyra said, still shaking off some of the pain. “What was that?”

  Briego shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. Some sort of mass aftershock? I’ve never seen anything like it. It seems to have affected everyone with an open templar.”

  “Any injuries?” Kyra asked.

  “Nothing serious. A few cuts and sprains from those working in the Artificium,” Briego said. He seemed uncomfortable, though Kyra assumed it was simply because of the aftershock pain. “What could’ve effected everyone all at once?”

  Kyra looked around at those still recovering, and her eyes narrowed. “The Arclight chamber…is there anyone up there right now?”

  “A few magisters and warders,” Briego said.

  “I want to see it,” Kyra said.

  _____

  In the fullness of time, only a few people had ever stepped foot into the Arclight chamber. Until now, Kyra hadn’t been one of them. The lift sped from the Conservatorium with frightening speed and halted on the top floor of the tower. The floor was thick glass over what appeared to be an endless black sky intermixed with stars. On the far side of the hall was a massive set of double doors with the emblem of the Sun King emblazoned on the front. It was guarded by four warders, who pulled the doors open enough for them to enter.

  Inside, the walls, floor, and ceiling were covered in long, winding pipes pulsing with energy. The walls were red-colored glass, and in the center was a pillar of fire erupting from a dais. Though they were only a few yards from the flames, there was much less heat than she’d expect from such a blaze. Even the light, though intense, didn’t hurt her eyes; and if she’d wished to, she could’ve stared directly into it without any pain.

  There were two magisters inside who Kyra recognized as Magister Cassius and Magister Hart. They were high-ranking officers and typically dealt with the construction of artillery weapons for airships and other high-grade work in the Artificium. They were the brightest of the bright and were working near the Arclight dais itself. They had removed one of the panels and were pointed to some of the inner working when they noticed Briego and Kyra.

  “Imperator, Your Highness,” Magister Hart said, both men momentarily stood to salute them. “We expected you’d come. We felt it, too.”

  “Any idea what it was?” Kyra asked.

  Cassius shook his head. “None. But the same time the aftershock came, the Arclight seemed to flicker and change color. We thought, perhaps, there was a problem with the shards.”

  “Show me,” Kyra said.

  Magister Hart ushered Kyra closer to the Arclight dais. As she approached, she could feel the light licking at her face and neck, but again the heat was much more bearable than she would’ve first thought.

  “It’s quite safe, Your Highness, I assure you,” Hart said, pointing into the open panel.

  Kyra peeked inside. From here, she could see that the pillar of light was, in fact, coming from a spherical chunk of white crystal inside the dais. It glowed like the sun and had several lines of Deific emblazed onto a silver band going around it. The crystal was cracked in several places, and Kyra noticed that one of the pieces was missing.

  “What’s this?” Kyra said, pointing to the missing piece.

  Hart didn’t seem concerned. “That’s been gone since the incident last year.”

  “There’s been a piece missing for a year?” Kyra said.

  “The Sun King was made aware of it,” Hart said sheepishly. “And the Arclight has been functioning despite its absence. We assumed the shard was lost when Aris rejoined with the Arclight. Before that, the crystal was all in one piece.”

  Kyra nodded, though not completely satisfied with this answer. She looked over the Arclight once more. “Nothing out of the ordinary, then?”

  “Nothing so far. We’ll be sure to report anything we find,” Hart said. “We’re hesitant to touch anything for fear of...well, you know.”

  “Right,” Kyra said seriously. “Be careful.”

  Kyra turned to leave with Briego; but as they approached the door, a sharp pain jolted through her templar again. This time, however, she was only one to feel it. Briego grabbed her before she hit the floor.

  “Are you all right?” Briego exclaimed.

  “I don’t know,” Kyra said, a mote of fear in her voice. She tried to move toward the door and, again, the pain came to her. She moved back to the Arclight with a terrified expression. “Trying to get my attention?” she said softly to herself, then turned to the others. “Step outside for a minute.”

  The magisters gave her a curious look, but did as she asked. The warders closed the doors behind her, and Kyra approached the Arclight. She hovered her hand a few inches from the flames but did not touch them.

  “Aris?” she whispered into the fire.

  The Arclight seemed to respond, and the shape of the flames changed just slightly. Her fingers inched closer, and she felt no fear. Rather, there was a warmth inside her. She felt calm and at ease and let her fingers just graze the cool flames. When they did, a jolt of energy rushed through her body like a bolt of lightning. Her body flew back and smacked against the hard ground with a thump. Her fingers were black and bleeding, her hair was disheveled, and there was a ringing in her ears that took a long while to go away.

  “Now that’s the reckless stupidity I’d expect from someone of your high station,” a voice called over the ringing. She sat up in a daze, her vision coming into focus. A figure stepped in front of her. It was Aris.

  “That hurt,” Kyra said weakly, squeezing her blackened hand.

  “What did you expect would happen?” Aris asked, crouching beside her. “But don’t beat yourself up; that’s exactly what I wanted you to do.”

  “Nearly kill myself?”

  Aris shrugged. “Pretty much. I have no physical manifestation anymore, I can only communicate through thoughts and feelings. A little strange, I know, but unconscious people are a bit closer to my current plane of existence.”

  “That might be the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Kyra said flatly.

  “Well, keep listening, because I’ve got a few more things that might be in the running to beat it.” Aris grabbed her good hand and helped her up.

  “You’re solid,” Kyra said in astonishment.

  “For the moment,” Aris said. “I don’t have much time to talk, so I need you to listen very carefully. You need to fly one of your airships to Helia Edûn. There are dunes to the north, just outside the city. Get there as soon as you can.”

  Kyra waved her hands in negation. “Wait, wait, wait. Why?”

  “Taro needs your help.”

  “And I should care…?” she said bitterly.

  Aris slapped the side of her head. “Will you stop being such a base animal for a moment? Taro’s risked his life to save your father and his guards.”

  “My father’s in danger?”

  Aris’ form flickered. “Much less so now that Taro’s gotten him out of the Shahl’s prison. But they won’t be able to get through the desert on foot. If you leave today, you should be able to get there in time.”

  “But—”

  “Who are you talking to?” Briego’s voice called from the doorway. Kyra turned to look at him, and when she turned back Aris was gone.

  Kyra looked up at the pillar of light. “Nobody,” she said, then marched toward the door, briefly glancing at Briego. “Is the Midwinter ready?”

  Briego looked like he wanted to dissuade her. No doubt he’d thought that Lord Aegyn would’ve been enough to keep her from going to Helia. He sighed hard, as if finally giving up. “It’s ready. Twenty men, as you requested.”

  Kyra shook her head. “A hundred.”

  “What?” Briego said, bewildered.

  “I want one hundred men ready by tonight.” Before Briego
could speak again, she added, “You have your orders, Imperator.”

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  The Sixth Inquisitor

  Taro found Vexis in a corner of the basilica. She was facing a black marble wall, with one hand propped against it, and the other clenched into a fist at her side. The smooth, hard wall was cracking under the weight of her radiant templar. Taro hesitantly stepped closer, and Vexis absently pounded her fist against her stomach. She seemed to be in a bit of pain, and coughed hard. However, when she spotted Taro, the coughing stopped.

  Knowing that her power was still restrained by the magistry cuffs made him feel a fair bit more confident than normal.

  “Tell me where she is,” he demanded. Before Vexis could respond, Taro raised one hand. “Save the witty comeback and half-answer. I want to see her, and I want to see her now.”

  “Or what?” Vexis said glibly. She wore a terrible, twisted expression that sent a chill up Taro’s spine.

  Taro pointed to the cuffs. “We had a deal, remember? I’m still willing to honor my half of it.” He stepped within a few inches of her. “I don’t care what you do to this place. I don’t care about your little family squabble, your brothers, or your nut job father. Once I have her, I’ll leave, and you never have to see me again.”

  Vexis’ seething anger turned into a half-smile. She looked as though she knew the punchline of some particularly funny joke but couldn’t share it with him. “Oh, Taro.” She patted him on the back and shook her head. “Sometimes I wish I could be as clueless as you. You think you’re going to reunite with Nima and skip your merry way back to Endra? I’ll bet you think that little girlfriend of yours is waiting with bated breath back at the Magisterium.” She put her hands against her cheek in a mocking motion, then stepped closer to him and whispered in his ear. “Or maybe you think I don’t know you have the Netherlight.”

  Taro felt his heart clench in his chest, but he did not speak.

  “Dangerous, don’t you think,” Vexis continued, obviously delighted by his reaction, “playing with a bit of magic you know nothing about? It was smart of you not to pass it off to the Sun King. If they were caught escaping, it would’ve fallen right back into my father’s hands.

  “The problem is that dear old dad is going to assume the Sun King does have it. It only makes sense, right?” She paced around Taro like a wolf circling a meal. “You see how he treats me, a bastard daughter of one of his whores; and even then, he was willing to risk a war to save my life. Imagine what he’ll do if he thinks the key to his immortality rest in Endra Edûn?”

  Taro scoffed. “And you say I’m clueless? Helia’s a shitty backwater. You think the Shahl can win a fight against the Magisterium? Good luck with that.”

  “We don’t need luck. While the Endrans have been sitting idle, my father has been hard at work. Come, let me educate you.”

  She locked her arm with his and strolled merrily out of the basilica and down a long, winding stairwell. After a few turns Taro realized they were headed toward the Sepulcher.

  As they walked, Vexis elaborated a bit more. “In a lot of ways, this is all your fault,” she said.

  Taro pulled his arm free, but continued to follow closely. “And how’s that?”

  “You killed Dr. Halric. Or whatever the equivalent of death is for him.”

  “What’s that old geezer got to do with anything?” Taro said, frowning at the thought of the despicable man.

  “The Arclight and the Netherlight are like cousins. Disjointed cousins that only see each other on holidays and shitty family reunions. Both were artifices of the Old High Gods, obviously; but where the Arclight’s power rests with creation and animation, the Netherlight controls the flow of death.”

  “I fail to see what this has to do with me,” Taro said.

  “I’m getting there,” Vexis said testily. “Now, only the Arclight can grant new life. The Netherlight can simply…stop death. While that might sound similar, it’s not. You see the state my father is in. The Netherlight cannot grant him any new life, it can simply stretch out his existing life and prevent his passing.

  “And just as the Arclight had a physical manifestation, so too did the Netherlight. That manifestation was Halric. And you killed him.”

  “He tried to kill me first,” Taro countered.

  Vexis held up her hands defensively. “I’m not judging. I wanted the wrinkly-faced butcher dead, too.”

  Taro thought about what she’d said. “So Halric was like Aris?”

  Vexis nodded. “The old texts call them Lightborn. When the Old Gods left Arkos, they were charged with the upkeep of the lights. Obviously Halric wasn’t too keen on doing his job, for whatever reason. Fifty years ago the good doctor convinced my father to enter a little business venture. I can only imagine what he was promised, but together they deposed Emperor Rutharan.”

  They came to the entrance of the Sepulcher, adorned with skulls and intricate bone work running along the craggy walls. Vexis removed a torch from a crypt fixture and held it toward Taro. “If you would?”

  Taro looked around to make sure the coast was clear, then lit the torch with his templar. It flared into a blaze and they continued deep into the tomb.

  “He and Halric had been constructing an army,” Vexis said. “The experiments they performed taxed the Netherlight tremendously and stretched Halric’s powers to the brink.”

  “My father summoned Magister Ross to Helia a few years ago and offered her something for a small fragment of the Arclight, so that he could continue living and replenish the Netherlight. I don’t know exactly what he promised her, but it must’ve been a lot to get her to acquiesce. The deal was struck, and she and a few other magisters entered the Arclight chamber for the first time since Sun King Aldor. To the best of my knowledge, this was the day the Arclight went dark.

  “In case Ross decided not to follow through, me and Kadia were going to steal the Arclight shard ourselves. It didn’t work quite as I’d planned, and I had to spend a year or two in that icy hellhole. Naturally, the magisters tried to cover up their duplicity, and the city descended into chaos. When I went to retrieve the Arclight shard myself, they caught me and blamed me for the whole fiasco.”

  “Wait, wait,” Taro said, stopping cold in the middle of the tomb. “The magisters really did break the Arclight?”

  Vexis looked confused. “Obviously.”

  “And framed you.”

  “Don’t look so surprised.” A cat-like smile bloomed across her face.

  Taro thought on it a moment, standing in the flickering torchlight. “It couldn’t have just been Magister Ross. She would’ve had to have help.”

  “That’s likely,” Vexis said.

  “Ross said…she still had ‘friends’ in the Magisterium,” Taro thought aloud. “They betrayed all of Endra to the Shahl and they’re getting away scot-free. The Sun King would be furious.”

  Vexis lowered her torch, and the light danced across her face. “You honestly believe a trade like that could’ve been made without the Crown’s endorsement?”

  Suddenly, it all made sense. “He knew…” Taro said, more to himself than to her. “He had to know.”

  “Didn’t it strike you as odd how he defended the Magisterium through it all? Like I said, I don’t know what my father offered them, but it must’ve been quite a deal to sell out your entire kingdom.”

  Taro put his back to the skull-clad wall and sat, leaning his walking stick against one of the graves. Rats scurried along the sides of the crypts, but Taro simply let them scamper by.

  Vexis eyed him curiously, then crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

  “I just can’t believe it,” Taro said breathlessly.

  Vexis crouched down to be eye level with him. “What? You think you’re the only liar in the world? If you’re looking for noble, unshakable rulers, you’re not going to find them.” She ushered him to stand. “Hurry up, if Praxis catches us down here, he’ll probably have you killed.” She sa
id this last bit with such casualness that Taro wasn’t sure if she was kidding.

  Taro pulled himself up by his walking stick and they hurried toward one of the maze-like ends of the Sepulcher. There was another unmarked imperial tomb here. On the far wall opposite the horizontal sarcophagus was a symbol that looked familiar, but Taro couldn’t quite place it. It was four circles; the largest one was in the center and had a crescent-shaped bite taken out of the left-hand side. The other two orbited around the large circle, two on the left and another on the right.

  The orbiting circles were set into grooves, and Vexis was able to move them around until Taro heard a click. The wall opened, revealing a long, sprawling circuit of what looked like Magisterium corridors. As with the Netherlight chamber, this place was most certainly built by the Old Gods. The floor was thick glass over what looked like a starry night sky, with different stars connected by beams of light that changed every few seconds.

  “Welcome to the Hall of Inquisitors,” Vexis said in an overly-dramatic tone.

  Halfway down the hall was the entrance to a dark chamber where the only light came from the stars underfoot. Inside were rows of hook-like racks hanging from the ceiling, each of them holding a stitched human body by the arms.

  Taro had an uneasy feeling as they walked through the pale, lifeless bodies. They were of all shapes, sizes, and sexes, though they were all adults. They wore no clothes, but their skin was adorned with the many-shaped tattoos that Helians wore. Taro suppressed a deep chill and fought off the urge to ask what the bodies were there for. He didn’t count them, but there were no doubt hundreds. On each side of the room were open doors to other identical rooms with hundreds more.

  Voices came from the farthest door, amidst flickers of candlelight. Vexis put out her torch and held one finger to her mouth in a shushing motion. They quietly approached the door and the voices became clearer: one was male, the other female, and both were familiar. Taro moved just to the edge of the doorway, and Nima’s voice came into focus.