The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 450

Chapter 450

Chapter 448: A Silent and Unmoving Conflict

Just now

KATHYLN GLAYDER

I hurried down the long, strangely empty halls of Etistin Palace toward the East Wing, where two very unusual guests were waiting for me.

My pulse was beating quickly in my throat, driven by my own inexplicable nervousness.

Calm yourself, Kathyln, I thought, my mental voice sounding all too much like my deceased mother. But everything had moved so quickly after the appearance of the dragons, with Curtis and I being swept along in a tide we could not control or fight, and I had just begun settling my head around this new normal. It was only natural that such visitors who asked for me and me alone, would make me nervous, given the political context.

The clipped beating of my feet on the marble floor resounded off the walls and came back to me as a subtle echo, like someone was walking just behind me. Normally such sounds wouldn’t be noticeable in the palace; the dull but constant drone of conversation, or competing footsteps, or the ring of training blades from the courtyard, would swallow it up.

But few could stand staying in the palace now, so near the dragons’ heavy auras—the King’s Force, as they called it.

I passed by a guard, whose arrow-straight posture straightened even further at the sight of me. He did not meet my eye, but I felt his gaze burning into my back once I’d passed. Could he sense my anxiety, read me like an open book? I listened for the telltale armored steps of the man retreating down the hall to report my strange behavior to Guardian Charon.

I’m being foolish, I acknowledged. Do not succumb to your overactive mind. Again, the thought in my mother’s voice…

As I approached the sitting chamber where my guests had been placed to await my arrival, I straightened my dress and fixed a welcoming smile on my face, feeling it tremble only slightly.

They were both already standing as I entered, their eyes on the door.

Such inhuman eyes they had, one pair the liquid gold of the sun’s reflection on water, the other like two shining rubies.

“Lady Sylvie,” I said, acknowledging her with a sharp but shallow bow, not exactly sure how she ranked in the currently complicated politics of Epheotus and Dicathen.

She returned the bow, much deeper, a respectful but also carefree gesture that made me regret my own calculated greeting. Her pale hair tumbled over her face, bright against the dark horns curving up from the sides of her head. When she straightened, smiling, I was struck by her height and the sharpness of her features.

I shouldn’t have been. It was only natural that she would age and grow. But the last time I’d seen her—sometime during the war, I wasn’t even quite sure exactly how long it had been—she had presented herself physically as a child when in her humanoid form. Now, she was a young woman, and yet the confidence and maturity that radiated from her like an aura made her seem much older.

She stepped quickly forward, and her black dress swished and caught the light, its thousands of tiny black scales glittering.

I stiffened as she wrapped me in a brief hug.

She didn’t seem to notice as she released me, still beaming brightly. “Lady Kathyln. It is good to see you again. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice. I have no doubt you are very busy, and I understand the nature of our arrival is somewhat…unusual.”

As she said “our,” I turned to her companion with the red eyes.

Blue hair fell down the full-figured woman’s shoulders, simultaneously dark next to the black horns wrapping around her head like a crown and bright as it framed those ruby eyes. She was Alacryan, one of the beings they called Vritra-blooded. She was suppressing her mana, preventing me from properly gauging her core level, although that alone told me something: she was stronger than me.

The woman copied Lady Sylvie’s bow, although she did not break eye contact, giving the motion an almost aggressive air. “Lady Kathyln Glayder. My name is Caera of Highblood Denoir. As Sylvie said, thank you for meeting us.”

I gestured to a stiff couch across from a high-backed chair, taking the chair for myself. My fingers automatically went to the carefully carved grooves in the arm’s woodwork, tracing the lines as I considered them. “Lady Sylvie, I find it somewhat disconcerting that you’ve asked for me in some secrecy when there are members of your own race present in this very palace. Why not seek the counsel of your own kind? Furthermore, why keep your presence a secret?”

Sylvie sat very properly, her gaze unwavering. It was very easy to see her as some divine princess from the far-off land of dragons. It was a bit more difficult to keep in mind my own purpose and the guidance and direction I had received from Guardian Charon and Windsom about how Arthur and his companions were to be treated in the event they returned to Etistin.

Meeting with them in secret behind Guardian Charon’s back was certainly not a part of said guidance.

“Arthur has sent me to inform you of a potential attack on the palace,” she said, managing to be both confident and consoling. “An attack targeting the dragons that would nonetheless put you and your brother in extreme danger.”

I felt my lips’ desire to frown, but I held them firm, keeping every muscle in my face in its natural place, just as my mother had taught me from a very young age. “I hope you have more to say than that. An attack on the dragons…who would dare such a thing? The fact that you’re here offering a warning makes it clear you find the threat to be sincere, but I can’t imagine who, short of the opposing asuras, would be a relevant danger.”

Sylvie seemed to consider something for a moment, then words began to flow out of her as she wove a story of visions and powerful, asura-killing assassins, dead dragons, and even my own death. I was surprisingly unmoved as she explained this part, although her mention of my brother’s demise raised goosebumps all over my skin.

I maintained my posture and expression throughout, but on the inside, I was a roiling sea of uncertainty. I was aware of Arthur’s fight against these “Wraiths” in Vildorial, as were Windsom and Guardian Charon, but it was the dragons’ opinion that Agrona’s soldiers did not pose them, or us, any threat. The war was over, and the dragons were protecting Dicathen.

It was perhaps not fair to Lady Sylvie, but I was also skeptical of any such visions that claimed to see future events. My parents, as the king and queen of Sapin, had been surrounded by soothsayers and seers attempting to peddle prophecies at every juncture. Except for Elder Rinia, I had never met anyone claiming to be an oracle who could tell so much as the next day’s weather.

The Alacryan woman, Caera, listened just as raptly as I did, clearly not having known the full story until that moment. Another point of strangeness working against them.

When she finished, Lady Sylvie was silent as she waited for my response, giving me time to properly formulate it.

“Forgive me. That is a lot to take in,” I said, searching her golden eyes for any sign of deceit but finding none. I imagined Arthur stalking a faceless creature of shadow through the streets of Etistin at that very moment, and a shiver ran through me. “I admit, hearing your tale has only made me more confused. If the goal is to prevent this attack on Guardian Charon, why not speak to him directly?”

I thought through the question even as I was asking it and came to the answer on my own. “You do not want the other dragons to know you are here until Arthur is with you. And Arthur does not want to go to Charon without some proof of the Wraiths’ presence.” I felt the smallest frown purse my lips and smoothed it away. “Are such gifts of foresight common among your kind, Lady Sylvie?”

Her head cocked slightly to the side as she considered me. “No. Arthur has always trusted you, Kathyln, and so I chose to as well. I hope I made the correct decision.”

Coming from anyone else, the barbed words would have drawn my ire, but coming from this golden-eyed dragon, all I could think was that I also hoped that she was right to tell me the truth.

“There is a general council meeting tomorrow,” I said after a long pause. “What you describe, it sounds like what we—”

Mana erupted in the distance, and I forgot what I was saying, instead staring at the wall in the direction of the source.

“A decay-type mana art,” Caera said, frowning. “That was a lot of mana.”

I stood suddenly, smoothing out my dress. “Stay here. No one will bother you. But the dragons will have sensed that as well—hells, the entire city will have. I need to make sure there isn’t a panic.”

Before either of the women could speak, I turned on my heel and marched out of the chamber. The guard from before had moved from his post and was standing in the middle of the hall, staring as if expecting an army of Alacryans to come pouring down it at any moment. He spun and snapped into a salute when he heard my approach.

I whisked past him and headed for the main palace entry. As expected, I found Curtis already there, standing in the outer courtyard and staring east. He glanced at me as I moved to stand at his side.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, frowning. Grawder, my brother’s world lion bond, gave a low growl, and Curtis patted his mane.

I didn’t answer, as Windsom entered the courtyard at that moment, every hair in place, his military-style uniform as crisp and well-kept as always. His ethereal, starry-night eyes stared upward, and I followed his gaze just as a transformed dragon appeared, its shadow sweeping over us and speeding toward the source of the explosion.

“I thought we agreed there would be no transformed dragons within the city proper,” I said halfheartedly, knowing my protest would fall on deaf ears.

At my side, Curtis shifted nervously. The dragons made him inexplicably nervous, and he hated whenever I said or did anything he deemed “impertinent.”

We did not have to wait long for the dragon’s return.

The huge blue reptilian being landed right in the courtyard with us, the wind of its wings making me stumble. Grawder moved between us, shielding Curtis and me with his body.

And so I didn’t immediately see the passenger who rode on the dragon’s back, not until I lowered my arm and stepped around Grawder.

Arthur, his physical appearance so changed that it still caught me off guard to see him, slid down to the ground and started walking toward us, heedless of the deity at his back, as if he rode on a dragon all the time.

I startled, almost laughing to myself, although my long-practiced sense of decorum prevented this. Of course, because he does ride on a dragon.

“Call for Guardian Charon!” Edirith, the blue dragon, announced, his voice just as gargantuan as his draconic form. “I have brought the one called Arthur Leywin! Call for the Guardian!”

Windsom stepped forward and raised a hand, and Edirith stilled and went silent before resuming his humanoid form. Windsom smiled warmly at Arthur and opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur walked right past him, instead approaching Curtis and me. I traced his sharp features with my eyes, searching for the boy I’d known at Xyrus Academy or the young general he had become during the war, but just as the last time I’d seen him, this new Arthur presented so little of who he’d been before.

And yet he is perhaps even more handsome than before, if that’s possible.

I cleared my throat, shaking off my distraction. “Arthur, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Kathyln.” Unexpectedly, he reached out and pulled me into an embrace. A tingle ran along my skin as his lips moved so close to my ear that I could feel the whisper of his breath as he said, “The others?”

Understanding I returned his embrace as I would an old friend and nodded ever so slightly.

He let me go, and I straightened my dress again, carefully avoiding glancing in Windsom’s direction as he instead held out a hand to my brother.

“Curtis,” he said simply as they shook hands. “You’re growing a beard. I’m not sure it’s working for you.”

Curtis let out the boyish laugh he was known all throughout Sapin for, but the joy of it didn’t reach his eyes. He was guarded, wary, and Grawder picked up on the tension, lowering his head and shaking out his mane, his gleaming eyes locked on Arthur. Long gone were the days of comradery at Xyrus Academy between members of the Disciplinary Committee.

I hated that politics poisoned my thoughts even in that moment, just as I knew what my brother was thinking. And yet there was no escaping it. Our country—our entire continent—was too fragile not to consider every option as we attempted to rebuild.

“So, Arthur Leywin finally graces us with his presence,” Windsom said, his hands clasped behind his back. “Hello, boy. Where is my lord’s granddaughter? I hope you haven’t lost her. Again.”

Arthur and Windsom matched unfriendly looks, a contest I couldn’t help but expect the asura to win. And yet, Arthur did not seem like a man studying a deity. No, he was not lesser in this contest of wills. There was something distinctly predatory in his eyes that made me instinctively take a step back.

“Sylvie is fine. Safe, which in this case means far away from you at the moment. I have news for whoever is in charge of the dragons,” Arthur said, his voice absent of any obvious disrespect while still managing to sound directly combative. “Imagine my surprise to learn that wasn’t you, old friend?”

With each word the two exchanged, I grew more uncomfortable.