The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 408

ARTHUR LEYWIN

Golden light again enveloped me, and for the first time since arriving in Epheotus, I felt the tension leave my body. Even though I was returning to a war, the threats I faced here were simple in comparison to the yawning abyss of negative possibilities Kezess presented.

The golden light faded from my eyes, revealing the inner courtyard and surrounding walls of the royal palace in Etistin, exactly where I had left. As the conjured stairs were no longer there, I immediately plummeted toward the ground, landing with enough force to crack the paving stones and kick up a cloud of dust.

Shouts rang out from several different sources, and the silhouettes of armed and armored soldiers encircled me. The sea breeze carried the cloud away, and I watched as the hard eyes of the royal guards widened with surprise before they quickly scrambled to stow their weapons.

“General Arthur!” an energetic female voice sounded, conjuring a chorus of chanting from the soldiers.

I focused on the speaker, a half-elven woman that regarded me with a warm smile. “I need to speak to the Glayders. Are they in the palace?”

She jogged forward, quickly breaking free of the surprise that made the rest of the soldiers hesitate, and pointed toward the palace doors with one heavy battle gauntlet. “I can take you to them, sir.”

I nodded and let her take the lead.

The palace halls were much busier than when I’d left Etistin. Dozens of well-dressed people gathered, chatted, and marched about, all of them doing so with an air of importance. Their conversations stopped as we appeared, and wandering eyes began following me.

“The Glayders have been busy,” I mused, more to myself than my guide.

“It’s been a hectic few days, that’s for sure,” she said over her shoulder. “Who would have expected that so much could change so quickly?”

I stopped, and she turned around and gave me a quizzical look. “A few days?” I asked, surprised.

Her brows rose as she gave me an uncertain smile. “Well, yeah. It’s been a few days since the Alacryans retreated and the Glayders…” Her uncertain smile edged down into a frown. “Is everything okay, General?”

“Fine. Yes. It was just a lot less time for me.”

In fact, my quick trip to Epheotus had only felt like hours. How long did I walk the Path of Insight? I wondered.

The guard gave me a helpless shrug, as if she didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, then continued leading me deeper into the palace. It was as I trailed behind her, idly watching her curly hair bounce up and down as I considered the next dozen steps I needed to take, that I realized who she reminded me of.

“My apologies if this is a strange question, but did you know a soldier named Cedry?” I asked.

The woman’s shoulders stiffened as she missed a step, and she seemed to pull into herself. Slowly, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Wh-what?”

Even as I said the name aloud, it felt so foreign, so long ago. I had only shared a brief conversation with the half-elven soldier, but perhaps it was because she fought with the same style of gauntlets as my father that I still remembered her name.

And of the many lives I had failed to save during the Battle of Slore soon after, her radiant gaze and playful smile stood out, and the way Jona’s voice had cracked as he told Astera and me that he’d intended to marry her…

“She, ah, was my sister,” the soldier said, her gaze falling. Then her face pinched into a tentative frown. “Did you know her, General?”

“We met at Slore,” I said gently, watching as the soldier’s face hardened to keep the tears forming in her eyes from falling. “She was a fierce and brave warrior.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

We began walking again, more slowly. “What happened to her friend, Jona?”

She took a long moment to respond. “He died,” she said quietly. “Here, in Etistin, during the battle of the Bloodfrost.”

I didn’t say anything. There was little to be said. But it served to reinforce my decision to work with Kezess. I would do everything in my power to keep their story from becoming everyone’s. Alacryan, Dicathian…no one deserved to die in the petty squabbling of the asura.

We exchanged no more words until Cedry’s sister bid me farewell outside a conference room. As she walked away, her head hanging, I realized I hadn’t even asked her name. Before I could do so, however, something shifted within the shadows of a nearby column and Jasmine stepped out into view.

Arms crossed, she leaned against the pillar and looked me up and down. “About time.”

‘Welcome back to the land of the lessers,’ Regis said with mock reverence. ‘I’d ask how tea with old Kezzy went, but I can already see it in your mind.’

“No problems here?” I asked to Jasmine, while at the same time thinking to Regis, You can come out now.

“A lot of side-eyeing and thinly veiled irritation, but no violence,” Jasmine said with a casual shrug.

‘Oh, I’ll come out when the time is right,’ Regis said, veiling his thoughts.

Although unsure what antics my companion was getting up to now, I had more pressing matters to attend to. With Jasmine at my heel, I made my way into the conference chamber where I could already hear Curtis’s low baritone.

Inside, seated around one end of an ornate mahogany table, Curtis, Kathyln, and Lyra Dreide were deep in conversation with a half-dozen well-dressed nobles.

Lyra saw me first and was quick to jump up from her seat and bow. All eyes went from her to me, and then everyone was standing.

“Arthur, you’ve returned,” Curtis said somewhat stiffly. “We were just discussing you, actually. Your sensational departure has continued to cause a stir over these last few days.”

One of the men present, whose shortness and roundness was only exaggerated by his proximity to the heroically proportioned Curtis Glayder, hurried around the table, his hand extended. “Lance Arthur Leywin! A pleasure, an honor, sir, truly.” Somewhat bemused, I grasped his hand and let him shake mine vigorously. “Otto Beynir, sir, at your service.”

“Beynir?” I repeated, certain I had heard the name before.

Curtis, who had walked up to join us, rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. “The esteemed Beynir House are old friends of my family. Otto here has been indispensable in putting the city back together.”

I looked more closely at the plump man. His brown hair circled up from his head in a color that didn’t quite match the darkness of his brows, and the skin of his face was rashy and pockmarked. His grass-green eyes were intense, and there was a sharpness—a cunningness—buried within them.

“And these others are?” I asked, pulling my hand away from Otto.

A quick round of introductions followed. There was another Glayder—a third cousin of Curtis and Kathyln—a big man from House Maxwell, an older woman of House Lambert, a paunchy middle-aged man from House Astor, and finally a nervous young woman named Dee Mountbatten.

A part of me questioned whether these nobles would be a good influence on the Glayder siblings. However, Curtis and Kathyln weren’t children anymore and, truth be told, I was tired and eager to return to Vildorial.

“How did the rest of the exchange go after I left?” I asked after nodding politely to the Mountbatten girl.

“As smooth as could be expected,” Curtis said, giving me a tight-lipped smile. He glanced back at his sister and Lyra. “Let’s retire to a more comfortable space for long-winded explanations, and we’ll fill you in.”

My gaze lingered on Lyra, who was staring at me with an intensity bordering on violence. “No time for that. I’m headed straight back to Vildorial, I just wanted to collect the retainer and Miss Flamesworth.”

The barest hint of a frown disrupted Kathyln’s stoic expression. “Are you certain, Arthur? There are a number of decisions we’ve made that I feel you should be apprised of.”

Lyra Dreide had edged away from Kathyln and was slowly approaching in a roundabout way that kept several feet between her and anyone else. “I’m happy to fill him in.”

A scowl flickered across Curtis’s face, but he quickly forced a smile. Interestingly, Kathyln was watching her brother instead of the retainer. The rest of the Glayders’ new council was watching the proceedings as if it was some kind of sporting event.

I looked from one face to the next. “I’m sorry, Kathyln. Could you put everything into a report and send it to me in Vildorial?”

“Of course,” she said quickly. “Let me take you to your teleportation artifact, at least.”

Curtis reached out and clapped my arm. “Don’t wait too long to return. The city is eager to hear how we plan to hold our continent now that we’ve taken it back.”

I reached up and took hold of his wrist, squeezing it firmly. “I have good news on that, but explanations will have to wait.”

Curtis laughed and took a step back. Emulating him, Otto Beynir did the same. The other nobles all joined in awkwardly.

“Until later then,” Curtis said. To his sister, he added, “I’ll be here with Beynir and the others when you’re finished, Kat.”

Turning on my heel, I led the strange procession of Lyra Dreide, Kathyln Glayder, and Jasmine Flamesworth out of the conference room and into one of the many grand hallways lined with paintings, statues, and other items collected by the Glayder royal family over generations.

“Your friend has hardly let me out of her sight,” Lyra mused, falling in beside me. “She would even sit through these interminable meetings, I imagine, if Lord Glayder allowed it.” Lyra cocked her head slightly, side-eyeing me. “What did you expect the poor girl to do if I went mad and betrayed you? She appears to have some talent, but she lacks true power.”

Regis chose that moment to manifest from Jasmine’s shadow, rearing up fully formed and glowering next to Lyra. “Then your body would have been reduced to a fine ash.”

Lyra’s brows knitted together, and one side of her mouth quirked up into a wry half-smile. “I see.”

Regis chuckled in my mind. ‘Worth the wait.’

“We moved your teleportation artifact to a safer location,” Kathyln said, moving up to walk beside me and guide us through the palace.

Lyra gave a soft scoff. “She means they hid it from me so I didn’t attempt to teleport away, forgetting that returning to my homeland is a death sentence.”