The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 402

ARTHUR LEYWIN

Spells burst in the air in showers of blue, green, and gold, trailing sparks and popping to an accompaniment of cheers from the ground below. The breeze carried the sound of hundreds of jubilant voices and the smells of roasting meat and sweet pies. A little girl, no more than five or six, sprinted past us, her face red and her grin growing wider with each step. Right behind her, a one-eyed man—a fresh scar, from the war no doubt—laughed as he gave chase.

A smile tugged at my lips as the Dicathian adventurer scooped the girl off her feet, eliciting a delighted squeal from the child. He plunked her on his shoulders, where she continued to giggle and laugh, tipping farther and farther back to watch the magical fireworks that were exploding in a near-constant display high above the city.

“I haven’t seen people this happy since before the first attack on Xyrus,” Helen Shard said from where she leaned against the side of the marble gazebo that housed Blackbend’s only teleportation gate.

Angela Rose was sitting in a patch of grass, Regis sprawled in her lap with his head resting on her chest. “It’s sort of like a veil has been lifted, isn’t it?” she said, absently scratching Regis beneath his chin.

“Beautiful and wise,” Regis said, giving Angela a quick lick on her cheek. “Why haven’t we been acquainted before? It seems like a crime.”

She rewarded him with a honeyed laugh. “I don’t know about this beast of yours, Arthur. Are you sure this isn’t you pantomiming through your summons?” She raised a brow coyly at me.

“If it was, I wouldn’t be nearly as crass,” I said, shooting my companion a glare.

Jasmine had spent the night listening from the street with her back turned to us—her perceptive gaze no doubt tracking the many people moving through the streets around us. Absentmindedly rolling a dagger between her fingers, she turned around. “This isn’t exactly a favor you’ve done for us, you know.”

I shrugged. “I know. But I trust the Twin Horns to maintain control over the city without also trying to forge some kind of city-state controlled by the Adventurers Guild. Besides, it won’t be for long, if things go well, and you won’t even be here.”

This caused a stir among the group, everyone’s attention quickly turning to me. Durden, who had barely said a word since arriving in Blackbend, suddenly spoke up. “What do you mean?”

“I was hoping,” I began, looking from Jasmine to Helen, “that Jasmine would come with me to Xyrus.”

Jasmine’s expression gave no indication of surprise but instead shifted into something thoughtful. Still, she said nothing.

Helen, on the other hand, frowned deeply as she pushed away from the pillar she was leaning against. “For what purpose? I can’t imagine having all the Twin Horns, or even all the forces in Vildorial, for that matter, would have made a difference to the outcome here in Blackbend. Forgive me for saying it, Arthur, but the sort of battles you’re likely to have…are you sure you want anyone that you care about by your side?”

Of course, Helen was right. I didn't, not really. If I could have had it my way, I’d have stuck everyone I cared about in a hole somewhere deep in the Relictombs to keep them safe. But I also needed someone by my side that could tell me when I was wrong—that could ground me as my own station continued to rise. Perhaps if I had known this before, in my past life, I wouldn’t have engaged in a war that cost millions of lives as retribution for Headmaster Wilbeck's murder.

But I didn’t say any of that. “I’ll keep her safe,” I told Helen. Then, to Jasmine, I added, “If you’re willing, that is.”

Jasmine lifted her chin, and her red eyes caught the reflection of a distant burst of ice shards. “Of course.”

Helen looked between us, her fingers fidgeting at her bowstring, then she let out a sigh and nodded. “Fine, but I swear”—she threw her arm up over my neck and tried to pull me into a headlock—“if I see one hair on her head missing—”

Effortlessly, I swept her off her feet, cradling her in my arms and making her squeal in surprise. “You know hair falls out naturally, right?”

Her hand hammered on my shoulder. “Put me down, you ridiculous boy!”

Laughing, I set her back on her feet, keeping my hands on her shoulders and holding eye contact. “I understand your worry. This is a war, and none of us are truly safe, not even me, but I promise I’ll keep her as safe as possible.” _{freewebnoveℓ.com}

Helen hmphed, trying and failing to hide a chagrined smile.

‘Well, you have fun, I think I’ll just stay here with Angela Rose and her—’

Not a chance, I shot back. Come on. It’s time to go.

While Regis finished being a complete idiot and embarrassing himself in front of Angela Rose, I entered the stonework gazebo and began calibrating the teleportation gate to the flying city of Xyrus. Jasmine followed wordlessly.

When the portal hummed to life inside the frame, I stepped up before it, but turned around to face Helen, Durden, and Angela Rose before passing through.

Regis drifted into my body. Angela Rose gave a cheery wave. Durden scratched at the stump of his arm, his gaze settling somewhere to my right.

“Good luck, General Arthur,” Helen said, her knuckles knocking against the carved stone pillar. “We’ll be waiting for word of your success.”

I nodded to Helen and gave a look to Jasmine to say her goodbyes before going through.

The world blurred around me, and I had a brief moment as I was disassociated from time and physical reality to consider the next step.

I had only spent hours in Blackbend, total. Success required a feverish pace on my part, and Xyrus was even more important than Blackbend.

As the most prosperous and defensible city in Sapin, it had become home for many of the highbloods who had been drawn to Dicathen—or at least those who hadn’t dedicated their resources to building holds in Elenoir only to see them decimated by Aldir.

It was also home to many of the wealthiest Dicathians, especially turncoat houses like the Wykes.

My fear was that I faced less a battle and more an extended period of digging out the Alacryans from the city like ticks from a wolf’s pelt. And the more time I spent in any one place, the more time the next city in line had to prepare. I’d already given Agrona far too much time to react and counter my victory in Vildorial.

The world lurched to a halt as I arrived at one of a row of identical teleportation gates.

A squad of Alacryan soldiers stood at attention nearby. The rest of the street was entirely empty.

Jasmine appeared behind me, her hand already on her blades.

A middle-aged guard with a heavy Truacian accent stepped forward. “Welcome to Xyrus City, General Arthur and”—he looked pointedly at Jasmine. When neither of us answered him, he pursed his lips and finished—“honored guest.”

I considered for a moment before responding. The fact that he knew who I was and had clearly been prepared for my arrival, yet wasn’t attacking me, meant that someone in the city wanted to have a conversation.

“I am Idir of Blood Plainsrunner,” he continued, and this time I caught the slight tremble in his voice. “My men and I are to escort you to the Courthouse to meet with the heads of Xyrus. If you please.”

And if I don’t please? I almost asked, but refrained. “And who would that be?” I asked instead.

“The ranking members of the five highbloods given stake in this city are Augustine of Highblood Ramseyer, Leith of Highblood Rynhorn, Rhys of Highblood Arkwright, Walter of Highblood Kaenig, and Adaenn of Highblood Umburter.” I must have given away some sign of recognition at the names Ramseyer and Arkwright, because the soldier added, “Powerful bloods on both continents, as you know.”

“And what will this meeting entail?” I asked.

The soldier, Idir, gave a humble bow. “I am just a messenger. I know you’ve come from a battle and are weary, but I can assure you, no Alacryan in this city wishes to cross blades with the man who slew Scythe Cadell Vritra.”

I didn’t doubt his words, but they didn’t exactly put me at ease. Just because a soldier didn’t want to fight didn’t mean he’d refuse when the order was given.

“Fine,” I said at length. “Lead the way, Idir.”

Although the streets were mostly empty, faces pressed against the windows of the many buildings we passed. Of the very few people that remained in the streets, all appeared to be Dicathian working class folks. A few even called out questioningly, but were warned away by our escort. It wasn’t until a man in a sweat-stained, colorless tunic shouted out “Lance Arthur!” that I intervened.

A heavy-set woman in armored robes brandished her staff at the man, but I grabbed it. Everyone froze.

Jasmine, already tense, had her daggers half drawn in a blink, but I gestured for her to stand down. “I won’t have you bullying Dicathians in my presence,” I said, directed at the Alacryan soldiers, then released the woman’s staff.

The man was just past middle-aged with shoulder-length hair that was receding at the temples. It took a moment before I recognized him. “Jameson?” I asked, certain he was one of the men who worked at the Helstea Auction House for Vincent.

He nodded excitedly, wringing the front of his tunic. He kept opening his mouth to speak, but stopped every time under the hostile stares of the Alacryans.

“I suggest you return to the manor, Jameson,” I said firmly, but kindly. I also widened my eyes just slightly, a nonverbal communication that I meant more than I said.

He gave me a blank, startled look, but didn’t move.

“Jasmine, maybe you should go with him?” I paused for emphasis, then added, “To make sure he gets home safe?”

“But Arthur—”

“Please. Ensure that all is well, then come find me,” I said, interrupting her.

Jasmine nodded, clearly understanding. “I’ll be there soon.”

Then, she grabbed Jameson by the arm, subtly dragging him away. The man finally seemed to come to some understanding, and he bowed clumsily as he half back-pedaled, half was dragged, before turning and following swiftly behind Jasmine in the direction of the Helsteas’ mansion.

Uneasy at the thought of being separated from Jasmine after I said I’d protect her, I reached for my connection with Regis, but he had already started moving.

As if my shadow itself had come to life, he leapt out from my back, landing heavily, his claws scraping the ground and startling the soldiers. We shared no manifest thoughts as he trotted quickly after them, since we both understood what needed to be done.

Jameson gave a yelp of surprise as Regis fell in beside him, but Jasmine was quick to comfort the man.

After watching them walk away, I leveled a cold look in Idir’s direction. He cleared his throat, spun on his heel, and began the march again.

Although I would have preferred to have Jasmine and Regis at my side, I needed the message to get to the Helsteas that I was in the city. According to Jasmine, they had been helping targeted citizens get out of the city ever since the Alacryan occupation began. That meant they had contacts, a network, people who should know that things were about to change.

It wasn’t a long walk from the teleportation gates to the Courthouse. I was somewhat surprised to find the cobbled square in front of the building—an ornate courtyard complete with well-tended gardens, fruit trees, and several statues of famous mages throughout Xyrus’s history—entirely empty. I had expected a show of force, at least. A hundred battle groups would have filled the space nicely, and given it an appropriately militaristic air.

“Our soldiers within the city have mostly fallen back,” Idir said stiffly, answering my unasked question. “Lady Augustine didn’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

We moved quickly across the courtyard, but the soldiers stopped at the base of the marble steps. Ahead and above us, the white and gray lines of the huge edifice that was the Courthouse seemed to dominate the city skyline.

Five impeccably-dressed Alacryans walked in a stately line out from under the towering archway that opened into the Courthouse beyond, each one oozing highblood authority and grooming with each step.

A surprisingly young woman with russet brown skin and tight black curls stood a half step in front of the others. “Ascender Grey. Or…Arthur Leywin, is it?” She batted her thick eyelashes at me innocently. “A pleasure to meet you. My grandfather found you to be such an interesting and complex problem as a professor. I’m interested to better understand why.”

As she spoke, her words crisp and sharply enunciated, the family resemblance became clear. “You are Augustine of Highblood Ramseyer, then? Valen’s sister?”

“Cousin,” she said with the slightest shrug of her thin shoulders. “Though we were raised more as siblings. I am a graduate of Central Academy—a fact that I now consider to be a great shame, since my time there was over before your short tenure as a professor began. Seeing your performance at the Victoriad, I’m sure your class was most interesting.”

“You seem to know a little about me, Lady Ramseyer, so I’m sure you also know why I’m here,” I said, pointedly scanning the five highbloods.

She raised a delicate hand. “Please, do you plan to discuss business here on the stoop, as if we were shady accolades dealers?” Her thin eyebrows rose, and there was a sparkle in her dark eyes. “Let us retreat to more comfortable accommodations, so we might discuss your purpose in Xyrus like civilized people.”

The other four highbloods led the way, while Augustine stood aside and gestured for me to follow. I took a moment to scan the courtyard and what I could see of the Courthouse building. The squadron of guards led by Idir was waiting at the base of the wide steps, but there was nothing else—no one else—to be seen.

As I moved past her, Augustine reached out and slipped her arm through mine. She was a head shorter than me, and her slender arms looked like frail sticks next to mine, but there was a liquid grace and abiding confidence to her movements that revealed no fear of me.

As we walked arm in arm through the grand halls, I found my thoughts drifting back to Central Academy. I hadn’t had much time to consider the chaos I had left in my wake. Those kids, the ones I’d had the most impact on—Valen, Enola, Seth, Mayla…

Did I do more damage than good, by making them trust me only to break that trust and disappear? I wondered.

Who knows what kind of propaganda Agrona and his minions had spread after the Victoriad.

“The kids from my class,” I began, then hesitated, unsure exactly what I wanted to ask—or if I even had the right to ask given our situation.

“No blame was placed on them, and they were given ample opportunity and resources to recover from the shock,” Augustine confirmed. “My grandfather may be a hard man, but he is dedicated to his academy and its students.”

That, at least, was a relief. I knew Alaric would have no such protection, but I trusted the old drunk to be able to look after himself.

Realizing I was letting sentimentality drag my focus down, I began drawing from the same well of impassivity that had helped me survive in Alacrya.

Augustine guided me through several short corridors before we arrived at a large lounge. Like the rest of the Courthouse, the floor was of polished granite, while the carved walls were all brilliant white marble. Arched windows bathed the lounge in light, which only made it even brighter. Dozens of fine chairs and couches were carefully arrayed through the room, broken up with a hundred different kinds of potted greenery. One wall was dominated by a massive marble bar, behind which were shelves and shelves of bottles.

At the center of the lounge, I noticed that a table had been moved and several seats rearranged to make room for a small round table topped with a Sovereigns Quarrel board. Two high-backed, velvet-cushioned chairs had been set on opposite sides of the table.

The four silent highbloods stood aside, and Augustine led me to the table. I pulled one chair out and offered it to her. She veiled her surprise well, smiling and inclining her head in thanks as she took a seat. I pushed the chair in slightly, then sat down myself.

“You’re familiar?” she asked, her index finger tracing an ornately carved striker.

“I’ve played,” I answered, examining the board. The pieces were exquisitely carved, each caster, shield, and striker unique. Her pieces were crafted of blood-red stone, while mine were marbled gray and black. “I’m not here for games, though, Augustine. You know that.”

Her smile widened, but she was focused on the game board and didn’t meet my eye. “Blackbend City fell to you in—what?—twenty minutes?” While she stared at the pieces, her fingers caressed the outline of her lips. “Clearly strength of arms is a poor counter to your power, Arthur—can I call you Arthur?” she asked, interrupting herself as she looked at me for confirmation.

I nodded, and she continued. “But Xyrus is a different beast. Hundreds of Alacryans have made the city their home, and there are five soldiers posted here for each civilian. Many Dicathians have already sworn allegiance to the High Sovereign. Do you plan to go street by street, house by house, kicking in doors and dragging away families—children, servants—indiscriminately?”