The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 399

The air of the Cerulean Savanna, home of the Thyestes Clan, was warm and dry, but a slight breeze always blew over the grasslands, making the tall blue-green blades dance like ocean waves. We called this the Warrior’s Wind, a magical phenomenon conjured millennia past to ensure that the pantheons training out in the hot savanna would always have a breeze to cool them.

I could see the savanna for many miles in each direction from my perch, over the top of the blue-tiled roofs of Battle’s End. Our sprawling village grew in shades of red and blue from the very center of the Cerulean Savanna, and was the place all pantheons thought of as home, even those from other clan’s who had never lived here. It was the heartland of all our race.

“The way your eyes drink in the sight of the savanna, one might be forgiven for thinking you expect never to see it again, old friend.”

“Sharing such tidings brings me no solace, Lord Thyestes,” I said, dragging my gaze away from the horizon to focus on the many-eyed pantheon lord, “but I fear it may be so.”

Ademir’s four front-facing eyes all focused on me, while the eyes at each side of his head moved rapidly, tracking even the smallest motion around us. “Are you ready to tell me why you’ve left Indrath Castle, then?”

I steadied my breath and adjusted my posture, which was slipping. A sign of my inner turmoil, I thought.

Ademir and I were both high above the ground, carefully balanced atop towering poles no larger around than my pinky. A spiral of such poles filled the central courtyard of Battle’s End. The shortest and thickest were to the outside of the spiral, and they grew thinner and taller until reaching the central rod, which was delicate as a needle.

We were several poles from the center, across from one another. Ademir had taken a slightly higher, thinner pole than I, and while I could have gone higher, it would have been an act of disrespect to speak down to my lord.

As was tradition, the higher-ranking pantheon also chose the training pose. Ademir had opted for the relatively simple blade-dancer’s pose. Matching him, I balanced on one toe with my left leg stuck out at a downward angle behind me, my toes pointing to the ground. My hands were held stiffly across my body, one palm-down at the level of my core, the second palm-up before my stomach.

“My service to Kezess has ended,” I said at length. This proclamation was followed by another long pause as I considered my words. “I am not a sword to be swung without consideration.”

Ademir broke form just long enough to flick a venomous hunter fly from the air, then slid effortlessly back into the blade-dancer’s pose. “Few asura now alive can remember the time before Kezess Indrath forged the Great Eight and brought the clans together. Epheotus was a place of endless war and death, a wild and untamed world full of walking catastrophes like the living mountain, Geolus. It is said that the Cerulean Savanna itself was flattened by pantheons wielding the World Eater technique in battle against the dragons and hamadryads.

“And Kezess has long taken credit for ending that age, forbidding the use of the World Eater technique because of its history. Its use nearly destroyed our clan, our race, and all of Epheotus. It breaks not only the world, but the caster as well, and so the pantheons of that age realized it would be better to live in subservience than die among the shattered remains of our world.”

A sudden truth revealed itself to me, and the knowledge left a bitter-cold sickness in my guts. “Lord Indrath refused to allow our clan to forget the technique. He demanded that at least one Thyestes pantheon always carry knowledge of the World Eater technique, so that he could use it if necessary.”

Ademir did not respond. He didn’t need to.

I thought back to my training, the crushing weight of my pride as I worked for decades to assimilate my teacher’s knowledge of the technique. The eager young pantheon that I had been thought himself a righteous guardian, a protector of sacred forbidden knowledge and of his clan, his people, of all Epheotus.

And yet my pride had made me easy to manipulate.

Just like young Taci.

Because Kezess needed us to be willing to use the World Eater technique if he so commanded.

“I am afraid I must leave Epheotus,” I said, the words sounding as tired as I suddenly felt.

“I know,” Ademir replied. His head turned slightly, and one bright purple eye stopped its rapid movement as it focused on something. I followed the line of his gaze. Wren was hurrying toward the base of the balance posts, waving a hand to get my attention.

Ademir released the blade-dancer and settled into a rest pose. “I won’t insult you by acting as though I have wisdom to share with you, Aldir. You are a paragon of our kind.”

“Thank you, Lord Thyestes.” Then, seeing how agitated Wren was, I added, “Excuse me,” before leaning off my perch and falling. I caught my momentum at the last moment and touched down softly on the hard-packed ground. “Wren, what is it?”

Wren was stone-jawed and spoke stiffly as he said, “My golems have seen a force of dragons on the move through the savanna, led by your old buddy Windsom. Something about their pale, scowling faces and the way their knees shake with each step tells me their mission isn’t a peaceful one, but that they also don’t seem too terribly excited about what they’ve got to do. Do you think, just maybe, that has something to do with you?”

“Dragons? Marching on Battle’s End?” Ademir growled as he landed beside us, the threat in his words unmistakable. “Now of all times? If he thinks I’ll let this outrage stand—”

“Peace, old friend,” I said, touching my closed eyes and then resting my hand over his heart. “I ask for your vow, Ademir. Do not involve the clan, whatever comes of this incursion. They are not here for the Thyestes.”

“They may come for one, but they’ll find us all, Aldir,” he said firmly, starting to turn away from me. “No member of the Thyestes Clan will—”

“Then you must banish me.”

Ademir was so caught off guard by the interruption that it took him several seconds to comprehend my actual words. He scoffed, but didn’t move or speak.

“Lord Thyestes, I have given every moment of my very long life—sacrificed everything outside of my duties—to protect my clan and people.” Moving my hand up to the back of his neck, I gently pulled him forward until our foreheads touched. “Now, I am prepared to go willingly into exile to do the same. But you must let me.”

His hand rested on my forearm for a moment, then he pulled away. Craggy lines of pain marred his usually calm features. Several seconds passed, and I sensed him gathering his strength.

“Go then. You…are banished, Aldir, from this place and this clan.”

As he said the words, a scorching fire ripped through the flesh of my neck. The Brand of the Banished. A physical symbol of my lack of a place within Battle’s End or the Cerulean Savanna. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt before, and yet I did not allow myself to express it beyond the grinding of my teeth.

“No pantheon in Epheotus will aid you.” His voice grew rough and emotional as he said the last. “But know that you still may find aid and succor, should you need it. If you do seek respite in the lessers’ world, go to the place known as the Beast Glades on their continent of Dicathen. The ancient dungeons there still contain many secrets, and perhaps even assistance for any wayward sons and daughters of Battle’s End.”

The road of my life had been both long and strenuous, but before I had always known it finished here, at Battle’s End. Now, that future was gone. Despite having asked for it, it left me feeling momentarily disoriented and adrift, cut off from my own future and fate.

At the very least, it frees me of the burden of ever teaching the World Eater technique to another, I realized as an afterthought.

Then Wren shifted, his clever eyes reading me as plainly as if I were one of the story tapestries in Indrath Castle, and I settled into my new direction. For a being as old as I was, new was a difficult concept to wrap my head around.

But I wasn’t rudderless. I knew where I was going next, even if I didn’t understand what might come of that journey.

And so, with a final bow to Ademir, who could not meet my eyes as I was no longer of the Thyestes, I turned on my heel and marched from the square and into the wide, packed-earth streets of Battle’s End. Eyes followed me while pretending not to as I passed the homes, training yards, and merchant stalls, all of which were now shut to me. No one wished me farewell or good luck, or bayed me good health and strength on my travels, as was tradition.

It hurt more than I had imagined it could. My lack of respect for Kezess and his decisions fomented into hate in that moment. When I used the World Eater technique, I sacrificed my honor and pride. That had been bad enough. But now he had taken my home and heritage as well, and for that, I would never forgive the lord of dragons.

It was with this bitter, fury-fueled fire blazing within me I stepped beyond the boundaries of Battle’s End, but it was fear that kept me from looking back, fear that the loss would sweep my legs from beneath me if I did.

The savanna grasses grew shoulder-high to either side of the well-trodden path, their aquamarines, cyans, turquoises, and teals endlessly whipping back and forth in the Warrior’s Wind. The grasslands no longer felt like a softly rolling ocean, but ten million spears marching at my side toward my oldest and dearest friend among the dragons. It was something, to think that the savanna still stood with me.

It was not long before I found them. I took some small, vindictive pleasure from seeing a dozen dragon soldiers stop suddenly, like their legs would not carry them any closer to me. Windsom, who was leading them, lifted his chin and dragged his most imperious mask across his face, waiting for me to approach.

“Aldir of the Thyestes Clan, I have been sent to—”

“Of the Thyestes no longer,” I said formally, cutting across his haughty speech. “I have been banished.”

Windsom’s eyes narrowed. “A convenient shield for your clansmen, but it also simplifies things for Lord Indrath.”

“You are here to arrest me and take me back to receive Kezess’s judgment,” I said, taking a step closer, the magic connecting me to my weapon, Silverlight, tingling across my fingertips.

The soldiers’ hands tightened around their weapons.

Windsom’s expression remained impassive. “Only if you make us. Lord Indrath demands your presence immediately, and we are here to compel your acquiescence.” His brows arched and he straightened yet further, his mana swelling in a poor imitation of true King’s Force. “With violence if necessary, although Lord Indrath and I both believe you will come peaceably.”

I scanned the faces of the soldiers. I knew them all. Brawny Tassos I had saved from a phoenix flame-rider during the skirmishes after Prince Mordain disappeared. The twins Alkis and Irini had been trained by Kordri since they were just children. I was surprised to see Kastor, who was one of Lady Myre’s private guards. But then, I was quite unsurprised to see the glowering Spiros, who I’d demoted for his callous and bitter attitude toward the other clans, and who had hated me ever since.

It was just the same with all the others. I knew them. I’d trained them, fought with them, commanded them.

That was why he’d chosen these dragons. Not because of their strength—although they were each powerful in their own right—but because they had served and fought alongside me.

And now those years of service counted for nought. Like Windsom, they were entirely loyal to Kezess, and they wore their loyalty like a blindfold, ensuring they saw nothing but what he wished them to see.

Right now, he sowed fear among them, I could see it in their eyes. These dragons were ready to fight me, but afraid to do so. As they should be.

The wrath reared up like a hades serpent within me again. I thought I was done with death. After Elenoir, I had neither the heart nor stomach to end more lives, or so I’d told myself. Now, looking at these once-friends and allies, each of them ready to lay down their lives to protect Kezess’s lies, I made a decision.

If they did not value their lives, then neither would I.

“I won’t return, not by choice, not by force.”

Windsom could not entirely suppress his surprise. His eyes widened and his right foot slid back half a step. The aura emanating from him wavered. “You have changed, old friend. I see nothing of the once great General Aldir left in you.” Turning to Spiros, he nodded. “Alive if possible, but Lord Indrath would rather have his corpse than nothing.”

“But, Lord Windsom, you assured us that—”

Irini’s question was cut short as Spiros thrust his short spear forward and shouted, “Take him down!” Then the soldiers were moving, breaking into formations of four, with Spiros, Tassos, and two others closing first.

Silverlight shimmered into my hand in the shape of a curved kopis, and I stepped into Spiros’s charge. The curved blade caught his spear, which I pulled up to block a downward cut from Tassos’s overlarge two-handed sword. A longspear thrust at my back snagged the fabric of my tunic as I pivoted, and a burning whip cracked before wrapping around my forearm.

Twisting, I hurled Spiros and Tassos backwards while ripping the whip-wielding dragon off his feet.

The longspear thrust again, but Silverlight snapped out and caught the haft just below the forged tip, shearing it in two.

Time began to slow.

One of the soldiers teamed with Alkis and Irini was glowing with golden runes that ran along her tan flesh. Another was standing between her and me, two short, leaf-shaped blades raised defensively. Alkis and Irini were to either side of the pair, their weapons up, but their focus was on each other as they shared some silent communication.

Opposite them, having circled around me, the last four dragons were transforming. Their physical forms swelled outwards, bumping into one another, scales racing over their bodies as the humanoid features melted away to become reptilian and monstrous.

I saw only a splash of colors: white and gold, blue-black, emerald green, and the burning orange of distant fire before turning back to the more immediate threat.

The severed spear tip was still somersaulting through the air. I took hold of it, spun, and let it fly at the rune-covered dragon’s left eye. The defending twin blades came up and knocked the projectile aside, but not before the rune-covered dragon’s eyes flinched shut.

My mana signature melted away as I channeled Mirage Walk. Before her aevum spell could fully take form, I pushed mana into every cell of my body and stepped out from between my attackers, past the dragon bearing two blades, and just beside the rune-covered soldier. Her eyes snapped open just as Silverlight pierced her core.

The slowly building weight of the time-stop spell snapped like a frayed rope.

Spinning, I hurled the dying dragon into her protector, sending them both crashing to the ground.

Silverlight jumped out of my hand and slashed through the burning whip, the end of which fell to the dirt and writhed like a dying viper. At the same time, a shadow fell over the battlefield.

The now fully-transformed dragons wheeled in the sky above. The largest, her scales glowing white and gold, opened her jaws and breathed out a cone of blue fire tinged purple with aether.

Silverlight shot back to my hand and I slashed the air while calling upon the force-type mana arts of my kind. The flames were slashed into two separate halves, and the soldiers all around me were forced to dodge as the attack burned away the ground to either side of me. The white-gold dragon twisted rapidly in the air, folding in her wings and diving to avoid my strike.

Pirouetting, I carved a wide arc around me, projecting out a scything force. The savanna rang with a sound like forge hammers falling on hot steel as the force crashed against the soldiers’ aether-infused weapons.

All except for the man with the twin leaf-shaped blades.

Half-risen, his furious gaze still on his dying companion, he brought his blades up far too late, and my attack struck him full across the chest, rending his armor and opening his flesh. I sensed his mana flicker and die before his body had even hit the ground. A moment later, the rune-covered woman faded as well.

It would have been better if I could show them. Perhaps another could break Kezess’s spell someday. But because I could not, it would be too late for these dragons. _{fгeewebnovёl.com}