Retribution, p.36
Retribution, page 36
An emerald as green as a viper’s eyes, a sapphire bluer than the deepest depths of the ocean, a topaz bright as a flash of lightning, and a ruby rich as crystalized blood.
The trueness of color was important, as was the purity of the gem, the cleanness of the cut, and the strength of my intention when each gem was set. That was what my regalia did. It connected my mind to the truth of the materials that I worked with. I could see, feel, even taste the way the different materials fit into the world.
But that was just the beginning, I was certain. The more advanced and powerful a rune was, the harder mastering it became, but the greater the results. With time, practice, and patience, I could only begin to conceive of what would be possible with the regalia.
“…it do?”
“Sorry?” I asked, realizing that Cecilia had been speaking.
“It’s beautiful! What does it do?” she repeated, eyeing me warily.
I lifted the staff, feeling the nearly imperceptible network of glyphs, runes, and connective elements that had been carefully scored into nearly every inch of the charwood surface. Taking it in both hands, I imbued mana directly into the staff. My mana was drawn across the surface via the circuitry of silver inlaid into the invisible grooves before being absorbed into a specially designed mana crystal hidden between the four visible gems.
Cecilia’s eyes followed the trail of mana, and once again I was amazed by her enhanced senses. In part, the design of the staff was intended to shroud its abilities. After all, it would be a poor amplifier of my power if it also gave away exactly what I was doing. Despite this, however, Cecilia had no trouble following the mana through its journey.
Around the staff’s head, the atmospheric mana began reacting to the mana imbuing the staff. I could sense it, but I knew she could see the individual particles being drawn into the respective gems.
“It’s amazing…” she muttered, her fingertips stretching out toward the wood but not touching it.
“The purified mana within the internal crystal gives shape to the magic, which then draws from the stored atmospheric mana to materialize as an elemental effect, becoming a spell,” I said, pride swelling within my chest. “It was the dragon core that gave me the idea for the structure, but I couldn’t have reformed the mana crystal without the regalia. Here, let me show you.”
Although the staff had been charged for less than a minute, it had enough mana for a simple spell. Through the connective circuitry, I could still feel and manipulate my stored mana. I shaped it into the spell I desired.
The gems flashed, and a whirling jet of hissing steam billowed from the staff, out my open window, and off into the distance.
“That was water, fire, and air mana,” she noted with some curiosity.
“With this, I can hone my own spells the way they do in Dicathen,” I said, breathless with excitement and the flush of victory. “Shape them however I want without relying on only my runes. And”—my grin widened—“I can utilize all four standard elements.”
Perhaps it was my imagination, but something dark passed over Cecilia’s face for just an instant. Then she was grinning with me, her hands on mine around the staff. “This is really amazing, Nico. But…” She hesitated, and something squirming and hot wriggled around in my stomach. “Is now really the best time to be experimenting? We’re going to war. What if…” Her words trailed off, and she bit her lip.
“What?” I asked, ice now seeping out from the hot thing worming through my guts. Can’t you see I did this for you?
“Your core is still recovering,” she said finally. “I don’t want you to get hurt by pushing yourself too hard. What if the staff fails? What if it hurts you somehow or…or doesn’t work like you hope?”
“Don’t you have any faith in me?” I asked, my voice coming out thin and painfully whiny.
Her fingers closed hard around my hands. “Nico, now isn’t the time for this,” she said firmly. “You brought me here, now let me do my part so I can get us home. Okay?”
This is wrong, I wanted to say. I was wrong…
“Yeah, okay,” I said instead. “I’m ready to go.”
She looked me over for what felt like a very long time, then the shadow of a smile broke the tension. “You should probably put on some clothes first, though.”
After quickly dressing in dark battlerobes, I was whisked through Taegrin Caelum without truly registering where we were going. My excitement had melted into melancholy, and I found myself drifting within a dreary fog.
A portal was ready for us. Cecilia exchanged words with a handful of officials and high-ranking mages, but I didn’t take any of it in. Then they were activating the tempus warp, and we flitted across half the continent in an instant.
I blinked several times as we appeared under the bright early morning sun, which wasn’t hidden by the mountains in Sehz-Clar. It took a moment for our surroundings to come into focus.
The receiving platform was at the heart of a sprawling garden. Large bushes, small trees, and dozens of types of flowers surrounded us. The air was heavy with sea salt. It made for a strange transition from the dark depths of Taegrin Caelum. I had expected a war camp, soldiers surging through the streets, destructive artifacts arrayed toward the massive shields conjured by Seris.
As my eyes adjusted, I saw the shields in the distance. “Wow. But how? How could she wrap an entire dominion—or even half of one—in such a thing?”
Cecilia stepped down from the raised platform we’d appeared on and started beelining for the garden’s exit. Over her shoulder, she said, “Agrona only has theories at this point. I’m relying on you to discover the source of this power.”
The melancholy I had felt only moments before faded as my mind set to work considering the implications of Seris’s creation. But it just didn’t make sense. Even with a mountain of mana crystals, it wasn’t possible to store enough energy to maintain such a colossal conjuration. And even then, charging the crystals would require more mana than could possibly be maintained, no matter how many mages she had working in concert.
The gears continued to spin as Cecilia led us toward the shield.
As we approached, it became more clear that the barrier had split the city cleanly in two. Behind the transparent bubble of mana, steep cliffs rose several hundred feet into the air. Soldiers and mages were busy at work on that side, but the streets were strangely empty and quiet outside of the shields.
“Where are our soldiers?” I asked Cecilia.
She didn’t look at me as she answered. “Forces are being gathered outside of Rosaere, and all civilians who live within a mile of the barrier have already been sent away.”
“What are you looking for?”
Her turquoise eyes were jumping rapidly across the shield’s surface like someone speed-reading a scroll. “The seams stitching this spell together.”
As if from nowhere, a gust of wind grabbed me and lifted me off the ground. Cecilia flew ahead of me, following the curving arc of the barrier.
Those on the other side had taken notice. Indecipherable shouts rang out from a dozen different sources, and those closest to the shielding began falling back.
My stomach flipped, and I worried I might be sick again. Though I had been able to fly myself before Grey destroyed my core, it wasn’t the same as being carted around like an infant with someone else’s magic. But I kept silent and let Cecilia consider the barrier.
After a handful of minutes had passed in stationary silence, I felt a familiar mana signature approaching from the other side of the shield.
A lone figure flew down from the clifftops, moving fast. In a moment, she was before us, hovering just on the other side.
Seris.
“Ah. The Legacy. I was starting to wonder what was taking so long,” she said, her voice only slightly muffled by the mana between us.
“Is Sovereign Orlaeth still alive?” Cecilia asked back, her demeanor entirely calm.
I found myself staring at the fine elven features she inhabited and wondering where this poise came from. We were a very long way away from the training rooms of Taegrin Caelum, and she was largely untested. Facing Seris was unlike anything Cecilia had done in either of her brief lives.
So why wasn’t she afraid?
Seris flashed us a wry smirk as she said, “Actually, he is with us at this very moment. He is everywhere in fact, still guarding Sehz-Clar as he always has.”
“I’m not interested in your word games,” Cecilia said, and I sensed the mana all around us tremble. “Drop these shields. Order your men to stand down, and allow my forces entry. Come willingly before the High Sovereign to face judgment, and he promises a swift end. The longer you drag out this farce, the longer he will do so with your death.”
Agrona’s words, I thought, sensing him behind each syllable. His words from her mouth. I hate this.
“Surely, there are a thousand other messengers Agrona could have sent to threaten me,” Seris said dispassionately. “You aren’t here just for this unpleasant conversation, are you? Because I’ve no interest in engaging in a battle of wits when my opponent arrives so poorly armed.”
Mana surged, a tempest of crushing, rending force from the clear blue. Cecilia reached out and clawed downward, and the mana forming the shield shook like castle gates being struck by a battering ram.
“If you won’t…bring it down…then I will,” Cecilia ground out through clenched teeth.
We flew closer, and Cecilia pressed her hand against the barrier. The air thinned around us, and I struggled to draw breath. I felt helpless, not in control of my own body, and all I could do was watch.
I’d never sensed anything like this battle before.
The world itself seemed to flex as Cecilia pushed in on the shield. The bubble warped, bending inward toward Seris.
My attention caught on my ex-colleague.
She didn’t move, didn’t flinch away from Cecilia’s assault. Her scarlet eyes tracked every movement, every fluctuation of mana, but it wasn’t wariness or fear I saw in that gaze. Seris was studying Cecilia, taking in and cataloging her use of mana, her strength.
It was then I knew Cecilia wouldn’t break the shield, not like this.
But she wasn’t backing off. Pressure built and kept building around us as she pulled mana from everywhere except the shield. She couldn’t control that mana, that much was clear, but I had no idea why.
“Cecilia,” I called, then louder, “Cecil!”
But she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, hear me. I reached out, trying to grab her, but she was too far away, and I was trapped.
“Cecilia, stop!” I shouted again.
Suddenly I was falling as the magic holding me aloft was withdrawn. I cursed as I hit the ground rolling. The butt of the staff, strapped to my back, cracked against my head.
Like the fool I was, I’d nearly forgotten it was there.
Ripping it free of its sling, I began channeling mana into it. There was no time to wait for a charge to build, so I immediately worked the mana into an air-attribute spell, copying what Cecilia had done to make me fly.
It worked. Soft cushions of air wrapped around my limbs and lifted me from the ground, and I shot back up to Cecilia’s side.
Her assault was flagging. Sweat was raining down her face. The depression she’d made in the shield was healing, strengthening, pushing her back.
I grabbed her wrist with my free hand.
Her head whipped around, and she glowered at me like some feral monster, her teeth bared and her eyes blazing. I shrank back, and something inside her snapped. The storm of mana faded away just like that. Her expression crashed into dismay as she stared at me, one hand over her mouth.
“Nico, I…”
But I wasn’t watching her. My attention was pulled to the knowing smile quivering on Seris’s lips.
I flew close to Cecilia, muttering, “Not now,” then interposed myself between her and Seris. “We didn’t come here to hurl threats from the other side of this wall you’ve conjured,” I said as firmly as I could manage. “Many, many Alacryans will lose their lives in a war between Sehz-Clar and the rest of Alacrya, Seris. Why? Why lead these people to their deaths in a war you can’t hope to win.”
“This isn’t a war, little Nico, but a revolution,” came her quick reply. “And Agrona knows well enough that it certainly isn’t Sehz-Clar versus Alacrya, but the people against the Sovereigns.”
“What people?” I shot back, gesturing to the empty city behind me. “What rebellion? This is the height of foolishness.”
“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” she replied. “Your entire existence is formulated on the premise, founded on foolishness. You two—reincarnates—have no understanding of what life is truly like in this world. To you, it’s a playground, a game, a dream you’ll wake up from one day.” She wasn’t smirking anymore. There was a hardness to her features that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I know what he’s promised you, Nico. But I also know that he can’t do it. He doesn’t have that kind of power.”
Her words went straight through me. I should have prepared myself, should have known better, but everything Cecilia and I were doing was so Agrona would send us back to Earth, an Earth where we had a chance for a life together—a real life, as ourselves, not as the forms we’d taken when reincarnating in this world.
But I’d always feared it might be a lie. Ever since Cecilia’s reincarnation had been completed, a doubt had grown.
Agrona had barely been able to complete our reincarnations into this world. What had ever made me think he could so casually implant us back into another world?
Next to me, Cecilia’s expression faltered, but only for an instant. “Liar,” she said, breathless. “You’d say anything to save your pathetic skin. You don’t know Agrona, not the way I do. He’s more powerful than you can even imagine, and so am I.” She was huffing now, and even I was taken aback by the viciousness with which she addressed Seris. “I promise you, little Scythe, I’ll rip this barrier down one way or another, and then”—a cloud rolled in above us, casting its darkness over Cecilia—“I’ll come for you.”
404
A BATTLE OF WORDS
ARTHUR LEYWIN
Windsom waited, his otherworldly eyes trained on me, his expression unreadable.
My head turned slightly so I could see the cavernous arched entry to the palace, where Jasmine’s silhouette was just visible within the shadows. Inside the darkened outline of her form, Regis’s violet glow was like a beacon.
I placed a foot on the bottommost of the ethereal stairs leading up to the portal Windsom had manifested. “Did you try to talk him out of it?” I asked, stopping.
Windsom frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Elenoir,” I said, turning back to him, staring into those galaxy-colored eyes. “As envoy to this world, did you try to talk Lord Indrath out of the attack on Elenoir?”
“No,” Windsom said, relaxing. “I volunteered to go along and ensure General Aldir was able to complete the mission.”
“I see,” I said with a nod.
Unhurried, I climbed the rest of the stairs until I was standing just in front of the portal. Windsom's crimes would be punished eventually, I told myself. But at that moment, my mind was on much more important beings than him.
Drawing in a deep breath and mentally preparing myself for what was to come, I stepped through.
The palace, Etistin, all of Dicathen melted away into golden light.
Even before Epheotus resolved in my sight, I felt the distance yawning between Regis and me. The tether requiring physical proximity between us had been broken when I dragged Taci into the Relictombs, but there had been no time to consider the ramifications during that fight. At that moment after the battle, I had felt no change in whatever aetheric binding connected us. Now, in the instant where I was entirely within the golden beam of light, no longer in Dicathen but not yet in Epheotus, I felt my connection to him fade, leaving behind a biting kind of emptiness that would have felt like madness if I hadn’t already understood its source.
Then the light faded, and I was welcomed by that familiar feeling of being in another world, just like the first time Windsom had brought me to Epheotus, and all thought of Regis was driven from my mind.
There were no twin mountain peaks, no shimmering bridge, no pink-petaled trees, no towering castle. Instead, I was standing on the carefully trimmed lawn of a simple cottage with a straw roof.
My heart skipped a beat.
Turning in a quick circle, I confirmed that the cottage was surrounded by towering trees with sprawling canopies of leaves that wove together, creating a small clearing where the familiar cottage stood out strangely.
Windsom appeared beside me, stepping through the golden light with his thin blond brows raised. He barely glanced at me before gesturing to the cottage door.
“Why are we here?” I asked, but he only repeated his gesture, more firmly this time.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to Lady Myre, Kezess’s wife, since I had trained here years ago. But I thought of her often, especially as my own understanding of aether increased and revealed the failure of the dragons’ perspective.
I didn’t allow my uncertainty to show in my movements or expression, however. When Windsom made it clear he wouldn’t answer, I moved with outward poise to the door.
It opened with the lightest tug.
The bright, clean light of a magical lighting artifact spilled out.
The interior was exactly as I remembered it, nothing moved, nothing out of place. Well, almost nothing.
In the center of the room, lounging in a wicker chair, was Lord Kezess Indrath. He wore simple white robes that caught the light like liquid pearls, and jagged blood-red hoops through his ears.
I quickly scanned the rest of the visible cottage, but he appeared to be the only one present.
I stepped inside. The door closed behind me, seemingly of its own accord.
