The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 390

Chapter 390

Chapter 388: Defending Vildorial

VARAY AURAE

The shifting earth of the battle map rotated around under the careful control of three dwarven mages working in concert. The three-dimensional blueprint showed the tunnels and egress points in and around Vildorial in detail, the image of it held in the dwarven tacticians’ minds. In the short time since our arrival and ouster of the Alacryan forces, most of the tunnels had already been diverted or capped off, isolating the Darvish capital from the larger underground network that connected it with other dwarven cities.

“Just a handful of tunnels remain open to the north of the city, here.” Carnelian Earthborn, Mica’s father, pointed to a section of small tunnels that laced into several much larger thoroughfares. “But they’ll be closed off in the next of couple hours. All mining and farming operations outside of the city have been halted, and all civilians have been brought into the city.”

“Fast work,” I said appreciatively. “And the city gates?” I asked, turning to Daglun Silvershale, who had been given charge of the work within the great cavern itself.

“The city’s sealed up tighter than a rockworm’s sphincter,” he confirmed, nodding grimly. “And the Royal Palace has been opened up to provide shelter for a few thousand, at least.”

I bit my tongue. This had been a part of the plan I hadn’t agreed with, but the dwarvish lords had insisted that the highest-ranking dwarves—themselves, in other words—and their families be evacuated to the Greysunders’ Royal Palace. Carnelian himself had wheedled a promise out of Mica that she would stand guard over the estate.

Despite this frustrating waste of resources, I had been forced to acknowledge that the Lances were not “in charge” of the dwarves, and had no right, other than that provided by our power and prowess, to give orders or make proclamations. We had already agreed that the Lances would not force control away from the lords in some kind of authoritarian military coup.

There had been enough in-fighting already, and we needed to be focused on the Alacryans. The dwarven people had a lot of soul-searching to do when this war was over. Again and again, their leaders had failed them. If the people wanted the Lances’ help to rectify that after the war, I would be more than happy to acquiesce, but we had to survive the oncoming storm before we could begin to clean up the mess that was our own house.

However, I didn’t try to hide my contempt for their plan as I met Lord Silvershale’s eye. “And fortifications to the other city structures, as I requested?”

He cleared his throat. “Ongoing, Lance.” " "

Carnelian stepped in with a grim smile. “A squad of mages from the Earthmovers’ Guild can be reassigned from the tunnels into the city to strengthen fortifications.”

Silvershale tugged at the braids of his beard, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but eventually seemed to think better of it, deflating slightly. “Aye, we could use the assistance.”

If the Alacryans attacked the city, they would have to blast their way in. This placed the many dwarves whose homes were built into the walls of the cavern directly in harm’s way, and stones dislodged from the cave’s ceiling would have the velocity of catapult stones by the time they reached the lower levels, easily demolishing unfortified structures. Simply instructing people to shelter in place wasn’t enough. Not nearly.

“There is no telling how long we’ll have to prepare,” I reminded the two lords. “We’ve bitten the Alacryans’ hand, but somewhere, that hand is curling into a fist to strike back.”

As if conjured into reality by the weight of my words, an ominous rumbling shook the foundations of the Earthborn Institute, sending tremors up through the soles of my boots.

Carnelian rushed to the door of the chamber and looked out into the hall. Panicked voices could be heard echoing through the school. The three-dimensional map crumbled back into dust as the mages turned to their lords for direction.

“Defensive positions,” I said immediately. “Get a squad of mages to those northern tunnels to finish closing them off.”

“They’ll be right in the line of fire if the Alacryans come from the north,” Carnelian said, his tone hesitant and lightly questioning, as if asking for confirmation.

“And our defenses are breached before the battle even begins if those tunnels are not sealed,” I replied, fully understanding the risks. This was hardly the first time I had sent soldiers to what could very well be their deaths. “And send up the alarm. People need to take shelter wherever they can.”

Waiting only long enough to see the two lords’ sharp nods of understanding, I wheeled around and flew out of the room, along a series of square tunnels, and then out through the front gates of the Earthborn Institute.

Mica flew up from some lower level, the black gem in her eye socket giving her a menacing look as she glared through the stone walls in the direction of the rumbling. “Someone is opening the blocked tunnels...or trying to. They must have set off one of the stone-sheath traps.”

The dwarves were, unsurprisingly, quite adept at hiding all manner of devious traps within the tunnels of their home. Even if the Alacryans had dwarves among their forces, they would find it difficult to brute-force their way through the many obstacles the Vildorians had erected around the city.

The approach of a powerful aura made Mica and me turn in unison, but it was only Arthur appearing from the Earthborn Institute’s gates. As he strode purposefully toward us, I couldn’t help but stare at him, my eyes traveling slowly across his features as I tried, again, to match this man to the sixteen-year-old boy he had once been.

His wheat-blond hair was set waving by the speed of his own movement, hanging down around a face that could have been chiseled from stone, any youthful softness erased by the trials of this war. The most startling, though, were his eyes. Those golden orbs burned like the sun, his gaze carrying a physical warmth, a raw and indefinable power, whenever it fell on me. HIs sudden presence caused goosebumps to raise along the backs of my arms and neck, uncomfortably reminding meof how I’d felt in the presence of General Aldir.

Small. Insubstantial. Without purpose. " "

“What’s the situation?” Arthur asked, stopping next to me.

I gave myself a mental shake before answering. “Movement in the tunnels. No word from the scouts yet, but some of our traps have been set off. The Alacryans are coming.”

“Then, let’s get ready for them,” Arthur answered, his tone unwavering.

***

After the hurried rush of preparation, Vildorial fell into a tense, quivering stillness. I had ensured the defensive forces were moving into position as directed, then fallen back to a remote curve of the highway that ringed the city so that I could see the entire cavern at once. Watching. Waiting. But there was no sign of the Alacryans. Not yet. _{freewebnoveℓ.com}

An approaching mana signature drew my gaze upward, and I watched as Mica flew across the open expanse to land next to me.

“The lords and their families, as well as a few select...important residents, have been seen safely to the Royal Palace,” Mica said, her cheeks red with clear embarrassment. “Mica...I mean, I’ll be, um, guarding the palace. Is there anything you need before I...?”

I shook my head, trying not to target my irritation at her. “The dwarven forces have been posted around the city at the most likely points of entry should the Alacryans reach the city. Bairon and I will rotate between these forces.”

“Has the scouting party returned?”

Again, I shook my head. We’d sent a dozen elite mages, all highly capable of earth-attribute manipulation, out into the eastern tunnels to investigate the source of the original disturbance, but they’d been missing for hours.

Almost as if he had heard our wondering, the air thrummed, and Bairon appeared, flying at speed. A cloud of dust burst from the ground at the force of his landing. “A handful of mages just returned from the northern tunnels,” he was saying before the dust had cleared. “Less than a quarter of the mages sent to close the tunnels.”

“What happened?” Mica said, her agitation setting the stones beneath my feet vibrating.

“They claim they were attacked by shadows,” Bairon said, his voice low and cut through with an edge of superstition. “And then the corpses of their own dead.”

This proclamation was met with a moment of silence.

Then, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What kind of magic could do such a thing?” I asked, ignoring Mica’s foul language.

“None that I’ve ever encountered before,” Bairon said ominously.

I clenched my ice-fist and let soothing mana flow through me, cooling my nerves. “Did they succeed in closing off the tunnels before the attack?”

Bairon floated up into the air, a gust of wind rippling across him as electricity arced over his armor. “They did, though not as thoroughly as should have been done. It may not hold, especially if the enemy is already there.”

“Bairon, see that the wards are in place over the last two entrances. Mica, to your duties.”

The other Lances both gave me grim solutes, then they were off, leaving me alone. Dwarves scurried like ants below, hurrying to whatever safe-haven they’d arranged for themselves. Most of the elven refugees had been taken to the Earthborn Institute, while our strongest mages—the Glayders, Twin Horns, and surviving guards—had joined in the defense throughout the cavern.

I wondered idly where Virion was holed up. He had been absent from most of the preparatory meetings, and I hadn’t seen him at all in the last day. Though my blood oath had been sworn to the Glayders, Virion had been our commander during the peak of the war, and I had great respect for the man. Watching him fade away caused a slow-moving, glacial ache that I wasn’t prepared to navigate at the moment.

A flash of purple light cut through my thoughts, and I took a quick step back before realizing that it was Arthur. “I will never get used to that,” I muttered, chagrined.

Arthur’s stoic features were carved down into a slight frown. “Have you seen my mother or sister?” he asked without preamble. “They aren’t with the refugees at the Earthborn Institute.” Then, looking slightly embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck, he added, “I just wanted to make sure they were someplace safe before—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I said, saving him from explaining further. “And yes, to set your mind at ease, I did see your sister and the bear leading your mother to the highest level earlier, toward the Royal Palace. And”—a tiny smirk forced its way across my lips despite myself—“I may have overheard Eleanor berating Alice about how the palace would be the safest place for her, considering Lance Mica will be guarding it.”

The hardness of Arthur’s features relaxed, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Oh. Good. I was...worried she might run off into battle again.”

I cleared my throat, then turned my attention back to the movement below. “I hate this waiting.”

Arthur flashed me a smirk that very much reminded me of the boy he’d once been. “Is the unflappable General Varay, perhaps, slightly flapped?”

I laughed, caught off guard by his teasing. “I shouldn’t be. After all, we have the mighty Lance Godspell present to protect us.”

Arthur’s smile faltered, twitching into something more wry and, I thought, even slightly bitter. “A title I’m not sure I ever earned, Lance Zero.”

I hadn’t expected such self-deprecation, and had to take a moment to consider a response. It was easy to forget that Arthur was still just a boy, really, no older than perhaps nineteen or twenty. Although he had tremendous power—more than I could safely wrap my head around—he had been subjected to horrible trials and great pain both before and during this war.

But then, perhaps that is what makes a Lance, I thought before immediately cutting myself off and returning my mind to the conversation at hand.

“If not that one, then maybe another? I’ve heard some of the sanctuary survivors calling you Godkiller...”

Arthur snorted in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly—”

A piercing static hum vibrated through the air, making my ears ring uncomfortably. “What in the—”

“People of Vildorial,” a magically magnified voice announced, resounding from every surface at once, folding in and over and through itself, like a wave striking and then receding from the face of a cliff.

“Lyra Dreide,” I hissed, searching the cavern for her mana signature.

“Please listen carefully to what I have to say,” the voice pleaded gravely. “You have committed a most unfortunate error in fighting back against the Alacryan soldiers in your midst. By aligning yourself with the rebels known as Lances, you have angered High Sovereign Agrona.”

She let these words bowl over each other, echoing round and round within the great cavern. “But the Lord of the Vritra is not without mercy. He knows that many of you feel as if you have no choice. He does not blame you for your confusion, your lack of courage. You will be offered a second chance at a life in his new Dicathen, so long as you simply don’t fight back.”

Arthur cursed. “More likely, he’ll kill everyone in this city to make sure the rest stay in line, if we let him.”

“We won’t,” I assured him. “We’ve already defeated the retainer once. She can’t hope to stand against you in combat.”

“Please, people of Vildorial. As your regent, I do not wish to see you slaughtered...but I will ensure all who stand against High Sovereign Agrona are appropriately punished.”

Her words stuck grotesquely to the insides of my ear. “Awful creature,” I muttered, shaking my head as if I could dislodge the voice.

“Generals!” a hoarse voice puffed. I turned to see a stocky dwarf sprinting furiously in our direction. “The—the...” He coughed, choking on his own tongue as he struggled to form the words without enough breath in his lungs.

Arthur vanished and reappeared at the man’s side, clad in dancing purple lightning. “What is it?”

“The...portal!” he gasped out, coming to a stop with his hands on his knees. “A group of dwarves...took it—reactivated it.”

I met Arthur’s eye, my mind spinning. “If they’re drawing our attention to the outskirts...”

“Then their strongest force is likely coming through the portal,” Arthur finished for me. I watched as his unyielding gaze swept across the cavern, lingering on the Royal Palace where his family was. Then something clicked into place in his expression. “I’ll hold off whatever forces come through the portal, destroy it if I have to. Can you and the others—”

“Of course,” I answered firmly, drawing myself up to my full height. “I’m done losing battles, Arthur.”

His jaw tightened, and then he was gone, leaving nothing behind but the purple-white afterimage of a bolt of lightning.

“Sh-should we gather reinforcements to guard the tunnel mouth in case any of the attackers escape Lance Godspell?” the man asked, stumbling over his words.

“No,” I said, my eyes still on the place where Arthur had vanished. “We need the resources elsewhere. If this enemy can get past General Arthur, then we are lost in any case.”

The dwarf, shaken and slightly pale, soluted. “Yes, General.” Then he was off again, huffing back down the wide spiral of the highway.

I was looking from sealed entrance to sealed entrance, sensing for any mana signatures, trying to guess which direction they would come from, when my vision flickered strangely, and I had to hold out a hand to steady myself. Screams of complete and utter terror trembled up to me from the lower levels, thousands of voices so piercing they cut through rock and earth to fill up the cavern.

I watched, horrified and paralyzed, as a black scythe of energy slashed through several buildings, collapsing them on the civilians huddled inside. The screams only grew louder.

“No,” I breathed out in disbelief. How had the Alacryans gotten inside the city?