The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 385

Chapter 385

ARTHUR

There was too much to do after the Alacryan attack. With the djinn sanctuary exposed, it was no longer safe. Somehow, we had to move several hundred people across the Darvish desert, keeping them safe both from the elements and the Alacryans.

As people continued to pour out of the tunnels, the leadership gathered across the stream near where I’d fought the Alacryan forces. Varay flew up through the holes in the ceiling to scout while the rest of us discussed what the next step would be.

“Xyrus would make more sense,” Madam Astera was saying. She was leaning back in a conjured chair of soft earth, massaging the stump of her leg, the broken prosthetic abandoned on the ground nearby. “We can disperse the non-fighters throughout the villages around Sapin’s southern border. If we can make it to Blackbend City, General Arthur can easily get us to a teleportation chamber.”

The old soldier wore a cold smirk as she added, “Then we just unleash him on the forces guarding the city. It would be ours in a night.”

There were a few murmured agreements at this idea, but Hornfels Earthborn was quick to step in. “The Sapin border is twice as far as Darv’s capital city, and there aren’t any tunnel systems that far north. Plus, we’d be abandoning the civilians if the Alacryans pursued them after we’d left.” _{freeweɓnovel.cѳm}

“But surely they wouldn’t waste their time, would they?” the elven council member, Saria, asked softly. “The Alacryans will almost certainly pursue the stronger force.”

Madam Astera gestured to Saria in agreement, but was looking at the dwarves. “Exactly. Plus, we can trust the people of Xyrus—”

“And what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?” Skarn Earthborn, Hornfels’ brother, growled.

Hornfels pressed his hand against Skarn’s chest, holding him back. “The meaning is clear enough, but you’re mistaken, Madam Astera. The dwarves—”

A thin, almost childish voice silenced all others as a pulse of heavy, frustrated intent pressed down on everyone present. “The dwarves have suffered from some very poor leadership, and have been exposed to constant propaganda since before the war even began.” Mica paused, her gemstone eye glinting as she stared around. “But the people of Darv are not cruel or evil, and Mica...I know they have started to see through the Vritras’ lies.”

Madam Astera nodded deferentially. “As you say, Lance. Still, we should hear from everyone.” She eyed Bairon and Helen, who had largely stayed silent. Virion had insisted he needed to look for something and excused himself before the meeting started. “Do the rest of you have anything to say for yourselves?”

“The people of Xyrus may prove less trustworthy than you hope,” Bairon said, an edge of poorly suppressed bitterness in his tone. “If Generals Arthur and Mica believe the dwarves will work with us, then I stand with the Lances.”

Helen shrugged. “It’ll be a fight wherever we go. Arthur gives us the best chance of victory, so the Twin Horns will be staying close to him.”

She looked at me with a blend of fierce pride and respect that reminded me of my father, and a warm tightness moved up from my chest and into my throat.

‘Look at you getting all mushy. Being surrounded by your enemies for so long has made you—’

You must be bored, I pointed out to my incorporeal companion. Go help my mom if you’re just going to be narrating my emotions.

‘Meh. She’s better company than you anyway,’ Regis thought with a mental snort before jumping out of me and loping off toward the town. There was a chorus of gasps and a choked yelp from Saria at his sudden appearance, but then it fell quiet again as the group watched him bound over the dammed stream.

Everyone reluctantly turned their gazes back to the meeting when Madam Astera began to struggle to her feet, doing her best to hide a scowl. Hornfels took her arm to steady her as he conjured a simple stone prosthetic around her leg. I was glad to see that, despite any disagreements they might have about our course of action, they still treated each other with respect.

“We should leave immediately,” I said, looking pointedly at the sunlight still streaming in from the cracks in the ceiling. “I caught them off guard just now, but we don’t want to give the Alacryans time to regroup and attack again.”

“I advise you to give these people some time,” Astera replied, countering my suggestion with her own. “Both to rest and to gather what little remains of their belongings. And we need to prepare defensive positions, map out our path, conjure transportation for those who can’t walk.”

I matched her steel-hard gaze for a moment, then nodded.

“So that’s it?” Skarn Earthborn said, focusing on me. “Just, ‘Let’s all run off to Vildorial, meeting end’? Nothing about how you just sent a hundred Alacryan soldiers pissing themselves back into the desert?” Skarn threw his hands in the air and glared at Mica. “What in the red blazes are the rest of us supposed to be doing then, eh? If this boy can crush armies and asuras alike, what is the purpose even of Lances, cousin? I just—” Skarn stopped suddenly, spitting on the stones before marching away.

Hornfels gave the group an apologetic shrug, then followed his brother.

“He does have a point,” Bairon said, frowning at me. There was a complex emotion in his expression, something existential that was leaking up from the deepest roots of his sense of self-worth. “How are any of us supposed to help you, Arthur?”

Mica looked down and away, not meeting my eyes. The others did the opposite, peering hungrily at me, eager for my protection and the hope my presence gave them.

“This war isn’t over,” I said simply. “Alacryan soldiers—even retainers and Scythes—they aren’t the threat Dicathen has to be ready for.” My lips turned up in a wry, mirthless smile. “Taci was just the beginning, Bairon. The gods themselves are our enemies now. And...whatever you all think, I can’t fight them alone.”

Bairon’s jaw clenched and a tremor ran along the muscle of his neck. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Then we must find some way to grow stronger.”

“Yeah.” Reaching into my dimension rune, I withdrew Taci’s long spear and threw it to Bairon. “This will be a start.”

He snatched it out of the air, then seemed to realize what he was holding and nearly dropped it.

“I don’t want the weapon that killed Aya,” he said after a moment, spinning the handle toward me and holding it out for me to take back.

“Don’t be a thickhead,” Mica grumbled, though she looked at the scarlet spear with unsuppressed loathing. “That is a powerful weapon, and there is no better way to pay your respects to Aya than using it to kill a few more asura.”

She reached out and flicked the head of the spear, making a clean, silvery ringing. Then she was moving off after her cousins, her despair and rage a nearly physical thing burning like a mantle of fire around her.

Bairon’s fist clenched around the haft. By simply holding the weapon, the Lance already seemed stronger, more present. “Thank you, Arthur.”

I nodded, and Bairon spun on his heel and marched away, effectively ending whatever was left of our meeting. Saria gave me a small bow, then took Astera’s arm as the pair began making their slower way back into town.

“You all right, kid?”

I looked up to realize Helen was watching me. “Kid?” I asked, my lips quirking up in amusement.

She mirrored my expression. “I’ve seen your mom wipe poop off of you. You’ll always be a kid in my book.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, chuckling. “Well, I guess that’s fair.”

The two of us began moving back toward the sanctuary, which was swarming with activity as people did their best to reclaim what items they could from the ruins. Although Ellie had wanted to stay with me, I’d asked her to keep an eye on Mom, who was worn down after so much healing. But there wasn’t time to rest yet.

“I’m fine, you know,” I said as we crossed over the rubble-dammed stream. “Just...feeling impatient, I guess. But I am glad to be back. To be...” I trailed off, not sure how much I could tell her.

“Home?” Helen filled in for me. There was a lilting curiosity in her tone, an unasked question buried in that single word.

I nodded, and we walked in silence as the noise and motion of hurried preparations grew around us.

A man’s ankle turned on a loose stone and he stumbled under the weight of his pack as he marched by, but I caught him and helped him straighten.

A crying child sat on a collapsed wall squeezing a battered and torn stuffed mana beast as her tired, red-faced mother struggled to wrap their belongings in an old blanket.

An older woman scrabbled frantically at the ruins of a house only to collapse back on her rear with a crumpled piece of parchment in her hands. She held the paper gingerly to her chest and wept.

“They’ve lost everything. Again,” Helen said softly. Then she cleared her throat and squinted down at the ground, looking embarrassed.

I wished there was more I could do, but for all my power, I couldn’t use Aroa’s Requiem to mend their broken hearts or God Step to take them away from their grief and fear. Their lives would never be the same, and although the holes left behind would heal over in time, there would always be the ache of loss, scars reminding them of everything that had been taken from them.

“I’m sorry,” Helen said, reaching out and grabbing my wrist. “Come on. We should take a moment to mourn properly. With settled spirits, we can straighten our backs and help these people carry their burdens.”

She led me to the far edge of the cavern. My breath caught as I looked down on a large, crystalline tomb. Even in the dim light, it shined with blues and greens. Floating in its center was a familiar body. Aya’s hands were crossed over a wound in her stomach, not quite hiding it. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of peaceful rest.

Several smaller tombs—simple slabs of cold gray rock—had been raised around Aya’s. To her right was a marbled tomb overrun with vines and bright, out-of-place flowers. The words, “Feyrith Ivsaar III” were carved into the top of the stone. In smaller lettering below, it said, “The most important truths are sought within the cracks of one’s own self.”

I ran my fingers along the grooves of the lettering, uncertain as to their meaning. Helen was walking in between the other slabs, touching each one briefly. When she saw me look in her direction, she smiled sadly. “Feyrith and Albold, they...well, your sister can probably explain it better than I.”

“You did good out there, old friend...” I said to the cold stone, echoing my own words from what felt like yet another lifetime ago.

Moving on to Aya’s tomb, I rested my hand atop it, looking down at the elven Lance’s serene face. I didn’t need to be able to sense mana to see how the other Lances had worked together to craft Aya’s resting place. Bright lights, like frozen sparks, gleamed within the crystal, and her body rested on a nest of fractal, frostlike patterns.

Closing my eyes, I nudged aether into the tomb. It rushed along the sharp edges and frozen contours, into the subtle striations within, grabbing onto the frozen sparks and filling in the fractal patterns.

Helen’s breath caught, and I opened my eyes. A light sheen of purple infused the blues and greens, seeming to move constantly inside the crystal, swirling and gusting like slow-motion wind.

“This tomb will be an enduring testament to all you’ve accomplished,” I spoke softly. “Because that’s something even death can’t take from you, Aya.”

***

Boo grunted irritably as he shook sand out of his coat, jostling Ellie atop his back. She scratched his neck fondly. “It’ll be okay, big guy. Not too much farther now.”

A gentle breeze had blown consistently into our faces for the last few hours, and, like Boo, everyone had sand clinging to them, which actually worked like a form of camouflage, helping to blend our long train into the surroundings.

Hundreds of people wound along in the rifts between shallow dunes. It was black and moonless in this part of the desert, with the only light coming from the bright stars overhead. We carried no lanterns or lighting artifacts, which would have been visible for miles across the empty central deserts of Darv.

Regis and I walked alongside Ellie, Boo, and my mother, near the head of the train.

Varay guarded the line’s rear, while Bairon and the Earthborn brothers guided us at the front, and Mica flew ahead to scout the route. If Hornfels and Skarn’s estimate was accurate, we were getting close to the outermost tunnels that would lead us to Vildorial.

“And so then there I am, getting ‘processed’ out the thing’s backside,” Regis was saying. Ellie laughed, and Mom’s eyebrows rose uncertainly. “But I got the better of the thing in the end. Well, Arthur helped, I suppose.”

“Another!” Ellie wheezed through her giggling. “I want to hear everything.”

“You know, Princess here has quite the temper. It almost got us in trouble a few times, like when—”

Mom stumbled as the sand slipped away beneath her feet, and she barely managed to catch herself.

“I’m okay,” she said before anyone could ask. “Just lost my—hey!”

As my mother had spoken, Regis slipped up beside her and scooped her off her feet and onto his back. The sight of my surprised and frightened mom frozen like a statue atop Regis would have been comical if I wasn’t so surprised as well.

“Um, Arthur?” Mom’s wide eyes turned in my direction.

“He’s just...trying to be helpful,” I said, reaching for the link between us. Uncharacteristically, Regis stayed silent, his bright eyes staring seriously ahead.

Sitting stiffly, Mom wrapped her fingers into his fur, careful of the flames leaping and gusting around his mane.

Ellie hid her mouth behind her hands, but I could still hear her half-suppressed giggles as she shot me a what-is-happening-right-now look from Mom’s other side.

We walked on in silence for a few minutes, until the call of, “Alice?” came from somewhere behind. Some half-healed wound had become infected, and so, his chin up regally, Regis carted my mother off down to the line to help.

The sun was just beginning to brighten the eastern horizon, and Ellie was little more than a shadow atop her bond. Still, I could tell from her hunched shoulders and downturned head that something was bothering her.