The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 394

Chapter 394

Chapter 392: Sovereign’s Quarrel

CAERA DENOIR

Scythe Seris’s soft steps were entirely silent against the stone stairs in front of me while retainer Cylrit’s were barely a whisper behind, making my own echoing footfalls sound like so many war drums in the long, winding stairwell beneath her Sehz-Clar estate.

Dark gray stone pressed in around us, making the narrow stairs feel even more cramped and claustrophobic. It was as though I could feel the weight of the cliffside compound looming above us, tons upon tons of rock, soil, and sandstone all supported at the top of these impossibly long and narrow stairs...

“Your silence surprises me,” Scythe Seris said over her shoulder. “I’m sure you have questions.” Her composed presence seemed at odds with the rushed, furtive nature of my visit to Sehz-Clar, which only enhanced the sense of anticipation and worry building in me.

“Too many,” I replied quietly.

Despite having had nothing but questions wheeling like a deranged flock of halcyons through my head since the Victoriad, all of them were knotted together, and I found it difficult to untangle one from the next to ask them.

What do I need to know? I asked myself. Which of my questions are more than mere curiosity?

“Is Grey really from the other continent?” I asked finally.

“He is,” Scythe Seris answered nonchalantly.

I bit my lip as I considered this fact. It was the answer I had expected after everything my blood had discovered, but it only served to further confuse my many other questions.

“Did you know the entire time?”

“I did,” she said simply.

“Doesn’t that put you—all of us—in danger?” This wasn’t really the question I meant to ask, but it slipped out nonetheless, my tone one of disbelief with no small amount of trepidation.

“It does,” came the deadpan reply.

I barely managed to bite back a scoff. “Are you going to answer any of my questions with more than two words?”

“We’ll see,” she said, an edge of humor creeping into her voice.

Behind me, Cylrit stifled a laugh, and I shot him a thinly-veiled look of annoyance over my shoulder. Despite this exchange providing absolutely no new insight, it was clear that, despite her goading, Seris had no intention of divulging any real information yet.

I could only assume I was present in Sehz-Clar for a reason, and so I chose to be quiet and patient until she revealed her purpose.

There were no more interruptions as we wound down into the depths. Eventually, the stairway ended in a large square of iron inset in the wall at its base. It looked like a door, but there were no handles or hinges, only a dully glowing mana crystal on the wall. Scythe Seris wasted no time, raising one hand to the teal crystal and pushing mana into it before Cylrit and I had even stepped off the bottommost stair.

The wall hummed, then gave a clunk that was more physical impact than noise, and finally the door began to lift up from the ground and recede into a gap above it with a mechanical whir.

I stepped up beside my mentor and stared into the room beyond.

A series of floor-to-ceiling glass tubes filled a massive industrial space. The tubes each glowed electric blue, their light reflecting off the white walls, floor, and ceiling of the room to give the entire chamber a surreal air.

Scythe Seris walked into the room and approached the closest tube. As I followed, I saw that, in a grated trough around the tube’s base, it was heated by piles of glowing orange rocks that gave off a sulfurous stink and enough heat to keep me well back. Translucent bubbles rose up through whatever liquid was inside.

Glass tubes as thin as my pinky finger left the artifact in a dozen different places, some connecting to identical adjacent artifacts, others running up into the ceiling or the walls, a few tracing along one wall toward a panel of devices midway into the room: gauges, projection panels, and mana crystals, the purpose of which was a mystery to me.

One thing was quite clear, however.

“So much mana...” The bright blue liquid radiated mana more intensely than the orange rocks radiated heat. “Is it some kind of...storage device? Like...liquid mana crystals?”

“Yes, that is exactly right,” she said with no little pride. “Only, these batteries are infinitely more expandable, and can be manufactured en masse with the appropriate resources.”

I closed my eyes and let my senses wander, basking in the glow of the compacted mana swimming within the devices. “It’s amazing.”

“It’s...important,” Scythe Seris started, a note of hesitancy in her voice.

My eyes snapped open and I stared at her in concern. She met my eye for a moment, then shot Cylrit a glance and made a small gesture with her hand. He bowed, turned on his heel, and marched out of the room.

A moment later, the door clunked again and slowly slid back into place.

Scythe Seris clasped her hands behind her back and began slowly maneuvering around the outer edge of the room. I followed, watching her carefully, the creeping nervousness I’d been feeling since arriving in Aedelgard City returning with a startling suddenness.

“Do you know what the Wraiths are, Caera?”

“Half-blood Vritra warriors secretly guarding Alacrya from the other asura clans,” I answered immediately. “I’ve always assumed they were just a scary story for children.”

Scythe Seris gave me a rare smile. “They are quite real, I’m afraid. Agrona’s secret army, the children of Vritra Clan basilisks and Vritra-blooded Alacryans. Their reputation as boogeymen is intentional on Agrona’s part. Not to scare Alacryans, no, he has no need of that to keep order on this continent, but to build a wall of uncertainty between him and the other asura.”

At first, I didn’t understand how these Wraiths could possibly strike fear into the hearts of full-blooded asura like the Sovereigns or Agrona himself. Even a Scythe like Seris was no match for a Sovereign—she’d told me so herself—so how strong could these Wraiths be?

And then I registered her words. “A wall of uncertainty? You’re suggesting that they really are scarecrows, then? Boogeymen, as you put it. A force meant to scare off the other asura, not necessarily fight them.”

“They even take their name from ancient asuran legend,” Scythe Seris mused, her eyes drifting to the bubbles rolling up through the electric-blue mana containment tubes. “A little on the nose of Agrona, if you ask me, but effective. Don’t mistake this for a lack of their strength, however. The Wraiths are trained asura-killers. A strong squad is capable of taking down even an accomplished asuran warrior.”

I felt goosebumps raise across the back of my neck.

Scythe Seris stopped in front of the panel of devices and glass tubes. “And Agrona has sent one such squad to Dicathen—to hunt down and capture Grey if possible, or kill him if not.” My heart sank, and I looked at my mentor in dread, but before I could respond she added, “But they failed. And then, because he’s nothing if not showy, he appeared via portal in the heart of Vechor and obliterated an entire military base, killing a few hundred battle groups and several battalions of unads.”

I leaned into the wall and rested my head against it, coming to the realization just how thoroughly I had overestimated my own understanding of the world I lived in. It had seemed a near-impossibility when Grey had defeated not one but two Scythes before immediately escaping the High Sovereign himself. But to slay five half-Vritra Wraiths...

“If Agrona is trying to capture Grey, then he must want answers of some kind. About aether.” This thought was instantly confirmed by the dire look on Scythe Seris’s face.

“But Agrona will not let his greed for knowledge interrupt his other plans,” she said, flicking one of the small tubes, setting the glass to ringing and the little bubbles wobbling. “He is growing tired of the conflict in Dicathen and is ready to abandon his initial plans to subdue and utilize the continent’s population.”

“So he’ll wipe them all out,” I said, staring down at my feet. “And Grey with them.”

There was one thing I couldn’t puzzle out for myself. It was a question I was afraid to ask, but so much else hinged on knowing my mentor’s purpose. “Why risk certain and horrible death by hiding Grey’s identity, working with him? You are directly opposing the High Sovereign himself. Isn’t this...treason? Betraying Alacrya?”

Scythe Seris let out a bitter laugh that startled me. “We are saving Alacrya, child. Which is why you’re really here.”

I gave her a questioning look, and she reached out and took my hand.

“It is my turn to pose a question to you, Caera. Knowing now who Grey is, can you still support him? If he stood here now and asked for it, would you offer him your allegiance?”

I hesitated. The truth was, I wasn’t yet sure. My feelings toward him were already complicated, and knowing he had lied about who he was for the entire time I knew him didn’t help that. But...I wasn’t exactly sure what it really changed, either.

“My allegiance is with you, Scythe Seris,” I said after a long pause.

Some difficult to parse emotion flashed across her face—gratitude, pride, surprise, I wasn’t entirely sure—and she squeezed my hand. “Then listen carefully. If we hope to help Grey and Dicathen, we must keep Agrona’s attention in Alacrya. Very shortly, Sovereign Orlaeth of Sehz-Clar will arrive to inspect this machine I have built. But it is not what I’ve promised him.”

I felt the color drain from my face as my heart fluttered against my ribs.

“The mana input system for the device is a trap,” Scythe Seris said, a dark light flashing in her eyes. “It will draw his mana out of him, weakening him enough that I can deal with him. Be wary of your thoughts, however. Orlaeth is powerfully empathic, and he will sense it if you do not control your emotions.” " l igh t n o v el r e a d e r . or g"

My stomach sank. “You expect me to shroud my emotions from a Sovereign?” I asked, the high pitch of my voice giving away my fear.

Scythe Seris released me and took a step back. “I have not brought you here without reason, Caera. You and Cylrit, your emotions will provide much-needed noise to keep Orlaeth from focusing entirely on me.”

I glanced back at the door. “Your retainer doesn’t know this part of the plan, does he?”

“Clever,” she said with an approving nod. “He is purposefully being kept blind to my true intentions so that his emotions will contradict your own.”

“And...” I hesitated, not wanting to question her judgment, but unable to move past my fear.

“If you fail?” Scythe Seris asked, picking up my thread of thought. “There is a second layer to the plan. Orlaeth is a genius. My trap is well hidden, but if he senses your anxiety and fear, or sees through the ruse, he may not take my bait.” I thought I sensed a hint of trepidation in the way Scythe Seris’s voice constricted, which only heightened my own. “But all I need him to do is use his mana, even if not on the machine directly. That will be enough.”

“Scythe Seris, I—”

“Please, Caera. My name is Seris. After today, no one will call me Scythe.”

She held my gaze, the weight of her presence both a balm and a burden.

I jumped as heavy pounding came from the metal door, and she rose one brow questioningly.

“It is time. Come.”

Just like that, she whisked past me and led us from the chamber, only briefly stopping to open and then reseal the door. Cylrit was waiting at the base of the stairs, and together we began the long climb back up to her estate.

Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled to explore Seris’s estate. I had only been once before and remembered it as a sprawling mansion that dwarfed even Highblood Denoir’s home. Now, I had no mind for the details, following her mechanically as I struggled to order both my thoughts and emotions, a task made only more difficult by a quickly approaching aura that seemed to shadow the entire city of Aedelgard.

Our quick march took us from the stairs through a series of hallways and arched openings, past a sprawling atrium, and into a large, almost empty space that opened onto twin balconies overlooking the cliffs that ringed the Vritra’s Maw Sea.

Dozens upon dozens of rugs in every shape, size, and color imaginable had been strategically laid out over top of the sandstone flooring, and a plush chair, almost a throne, sat central against the back wall, directly opposite the narrow gap between the two balconies.

Next to the throne was another series of devices and artifacts similar to those in the mana storage facility below, though instead of gauges there were a series of mana crystals of different shapes and sizes, and several tightly-wound coils of a silvery blue metal I didn’t recognize.

I turned my attention away from the panel, trying to neither think about nor feel anything regarding its existence. It had nothing to do with me, and I knew nothing about it.

And I certainly don’t know that my lifelong mentor is attempting to use this device to overpower a Sovereign, I thought, unable to entirely squash the racing of my pulse.

There was blessedly little time for my worries to build, however, as the growing pressure soon reached its crescendo.

Only once before had I felt such a complete and overpowering presence, and that was Agrona himself in the moments after Grey’s disappearance from the Victoriad.

Cylrit took me firmly by one arm, and I realized I had been standing frozen in the middle of the room. He maneuvered me to the side of the throne away from the strange artifacts, and I could think of nothing other than to let him.

Seris moved with unconcerned elegance out onto the balcony and waited for the source of that killing intent to arrive.

When the man landed on the balcony opposite her, however, he did not crash down like a meteor, but barely touched the balcony before striding into the room, his irritation so palpable I felt it like a whip across my back.

I had never seen Sovereign Orlaeth in the flesh. I had only ever seen portraits of him during my studies of Sovereigns that every Alacryan child was tasked to do.

It didn’t prepare me for the sight of him.

The man—if such a simple term was appropriate for one of the asura—was tall, but not inhumanly so, and incredibly reedy. But it was hard to register anything at all past his heads, for he had two of them.

Despite my fear, which seemed to be bubbling up from somewhere deep inside me in a constantly upheaving well of uncertainty and self-doubt, I couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight of him.

The two heads were each covered in a mop of dark hair, and each had two horns on the outside of the head. The lower horns pointed outward to the sides, while the upper pair pointed straight up before curving slightly. On the inside of his left head, mostly hidden beneath his unkempt hair, were the stubs of two more horns, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d somehow used them to create his other head.

The two faces looked nearly identical, though the heads themselves were offset, further suggesting that the rightmost head had been attached after the fact. Their expressions, however, could not have been more different. The right head took in the three of us with cool, calculating efficiency. Its red eyes—which were slightly darker than the other’s—lingered on me, and all the feelings that had been roiling in me since the Victoriad surged to the surface with such force that I nearly vomited in my mouth.

And suddenly, something made sense. The power and sense of my doubt and anxiety...it wasn’t entirely me. The feeling I’d felt since heading down the stairs into Seris’s laboratory was an effect of the Sovereign. He was, quite literally, drawing my emotions out of me.

So he can more easily read them. I swallowed heavily and tried to set my head and heart straight. Seris was relying on me. I wouldn’t fail her.

The left head didn’t so much as glance at any of us, its furious scowl turned to the panel of artifacts on the other side of the throne.

“Sovereign Orlaeth,” Scythe Seris said respectfully, “thank you for—” " l ig ht n o v el r e a d e r . or g"

“You said the systems were ready for my examination, Seris,” the leftmost head snapped. Then, as if speaking to the right head, it added, “The situation in Vechor is tenuous. First the Victoriad, now this assault. Kiros looks weak. He will lash out, could attack Sehz-Clar again if the High Sovereign abandons the other continent. And with the treaty with Epheotus broken, it is only a matter of time before they strike. If this lesser reincarnate can strike in the middle of our Dominions, then Indrath certainly can. They may even decide to target us instead of the High Sovereign, to weaken him before all out war.”

“The High Sovereign has outmaneuvered Indrath at every turn,” the right head answered. “With our gift, we will prove our loyalty and usefulness. He will side with us against Vechor, if necessary, and ensure we are protected from the other clans.”

“Assuming the lessuran has succeeded in her task,” the left snapped again. Both heads turned toward Seris, one pinched and glaring, the other lifting its brows curiously.

Scythe Seris bowed deeply. “Forgive the delay, Sovereign. It turned out the component we needed was hidden beneath the desert in Dicathen—a peculiar mineral that gathers and condenses fire-attribute mana. With it—”

“Begin the demonstration,” Orlaeth’s left head barked, and I couldn’t help the low moan that escaped my lips at his spike of intent.

Seris’s jaw tightened for a heartbeat. She recovered almost instantly and took several steps toward me. “Caera, perhaps you would be more comfortable in the atrium...”

She doubts me, I realized, and it felt as though a fist were crushing my heart. We’ve barely begun, her plan isn’t even in motion yet, and already I am failing her.

“No,” Orlaeth’s right head said firmly. “She should stay.”

Although he spoke to Seris, his gaze had settled on me again, and I could feel his power forcing my emotions to the surface. I purposefully turned my thoughts away from the Sovereign, from Seris, from the machine, the trap, the plan, all of it.

If it took a Dicathian to protect Alacrya from the Vritra, then so be it. There was even a kind of sense to it, really. Alacryans had been bred like pets for the Vritra Clan, simultaneously wogarts and weapons. Who among us would truly ever be capable of fighting back? Of breaking Agrona’s hold over the continent? _{frёeweɓηovel.coɱ}