The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 451

Chapter 451

Chapter 449: An Impossible Sight

An hour ago

LYRA DREIDE

I paused in my rush from one task to the next, drawing in a deep, fortifying breath.

The sun was hanging over the mountains to the west, its final rays still warm. The near-constant breeze that blew across the wasteland had died down, lessening the fine cloud of ash that always hung in the air. It was a perfectly pleasant day, and yet I found it almost painful to relax, the effort straining against my body’s urge to continue checking items off my list as fast as possible.

My duties had pulled me from one minor emergency to the next for two days straight, and I hadn’t had even a brief reprieve in what felt like hours. Closing my eyes, I turned my face toward the sun, letting its warmth touch my face. A shiver ran through me…built-up tension seeking a release.

I felt my lips curve into a smile.

This…this is what being a leader is. This is what I could have been doing my whole life, if only I’d known…

Being looked up to, respected, even—dare I say—loved…it was addicting, even more than the constant climb for power and authority had been before.

Watching Seris work, working alongside her as we helped our people to come to terms with their new lives, was satisfying in a way I had never understood before. It gave me hope. It also, perhaps more than anything else, made me glad that Arthur Leywin hadn’t killed me in Etistin. I couldn’t help but second guess myself at first, but now…

It was clear I had made the correct decision.

As I let the sun kiss my skin, I felt the sharp sensation of eyes burning into my back.

Letting my eyes ease open, I slowly turned and searched for the watcher. He wasn’t difficult to spot: a skinny bespectacled boy was sitting on the edge of a farm bed, now staring intently at his knees.

Slowly, he tried to sneak a quick look up, caught me watching him, went red, and stared hard at the ground.

My curiosity piqued, I started in the boy’s direction, my movements unrushed in a way that I was already unaccustomed to. I felt a little bad as I watched him begin to panic, likely fearing a scolding or worse. He was one of the new arrivals, but I didn’t know him or which blood he belonged to. By the tension with which he held himself and the fact that he was isolated when everyone else was hard at work, I suspected he was here alone, perhaps even a lower-class resident of the Relictombs’ second level who snuck through during Seris’s exodus.

I stood over him, my arms crossed, lips pursed slightly. “Have I wronged you, boy?” I asked. “You’re staring as if you’ve sworn a blood oath of vengeance on me.” Cocking my head slightly, I added, “Considering everything, I suppose that is possible.”

He flinched, glanced up at me, looked away, looked back again, then pulled his legs up to his chest and seemed to shrink.

I relaxed, softening my expression and stance. “At ease, child. I only meant to startle some good humor out of you. Why don’t we start again? I’m sure you know my name already, but I’m Lyra. Who are you?”

He chewed the inside of his lip, the spinning gears of his thoughts visible in his eyes, then finally hopped to his feet and bowed. “I’m sorry, retainer Lyra of Highblood Dreide. I didn’t mean to stare. I just…” He swallowed heavily. “I’m Seth of Highblood Milview.”

Milview…Milview? I rolled the name around, searching for any connection to it. I was slightly surprised to hear him name himself as a highblood, but less so that I didn’t know anything about the name.

“Where is the rest of your blood then?” I asked, eager to ensure bloods weren’t being separated as they were relocated away from the small settlement where they had arrived, which could not support all of them.

The boy’s face sank, and I realized the truth. “You’re all alone, then?” I asked. “Was your blood lost in the war?”

He nodded, a very slight, nervous movement, then sank back onto the wooden border of the raised farm bed. “They were all killed…here.” He waved a hand at the ashlands beyond the small village. “Recently elevated blood…because of something my sister did in the war. And then wiped away, just like that.”

I sat next to him, considering my words carefully. “You never felt like a highblood, did you?”

He shook his head. “Not really. The others at the academy…well, they didn’t treat me like I was their equal. Not until…” He swallowed heavily. “Not until Professor Grey…Arthur.”

“Ah,” I said, recalling what little I had learned of Arthur Leywin’s time hidden in Alacrya. “You are one of his students, then. Is that why you came to Dicathen? To follow your mentor?”

“No!” he said, too quickly. Blanching, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “I mean, I just didn’t have anywhere else to go. Scythe Seris wanted to know more about my bestowals, me and my friend, and I just thought, well, maybe here at least I could do…something?” He shrugged rather helplessly. “I didn’t think I could return to my blood’s home or the academy. Not after everything.”

I pressed my lips into a tight smile, not saying anything else. Clearly the boy needed to talk, and I was prepared to let him. At least, with what little time I had to spare.

He hopped up again and took a couple steps away, facing the gray wasteland to the north. “Why did Circe have to die just for…that?” he asked. “She died mapping a way through it, that’s what we were told. But now look at it. She died for nothing.”

Milview…

The name settled into place in my mind, bringing back a report received ages ago. A large number of Sentries had been tasked with charting a path through the enchanted forests of the elves, and it had been a young and talented Sentry named Circe of Named Blood Milview who had finally succeeded where her peers had failed.

“Many died needlessly in this war,” I said, still sitting. “The asura are heedless with lesser lives. But, perhaps…” I paused, letting the words hang. “Perhaps their deaths aren’t for nothing if they show us that the world needs to change. If they motivate us to make that very change. That seems to me like a more worthy cause to fight for.”

The boy didn’t respond, and my attention was drawn to an approaching figure. Anvald of Named Blood Torpor’s broad shoulders and shaved scalp were obvious even from a distance.

I stood and stretched, feeling my brief reprieve coming to an end. “I could use the assistance of a motivated young mage,” I said, resting my hand lightly on the boy’s shoulder. “If you are willing. And I’m sure we can find time for you to continue to help Seris in her research as well.”

He stared at me, his eyes wide and watery. Clearing his throat, he removed his glasses and wiped the back of his arm across his face. “Uh, sure,” he said, fumbling the thick lenses back over his eyes.

Anvald came to a stop several feet away, looking grim. “Lady Seris has requested your presence, Lyra.”

I didn’t bother asking what this was about. The fact that Seris was requesting me meant it had to do with some conflict between the new arrivals and those Alacryan soldiers who had been consigned to the Elenoir Wastes by Regent Leywin.

“Come along then, assistant,” I said, only a little flippantly. Although I didn’t look back, I heard Seth’s halting footsteps behind me. “What is it now, Anvald? Some new construction interrupting a used-to-be highblood’s view of the endless ashy wastes?”

Anvald snorted. “Ah, better that I do not color your view of the matter.”

Curious, I followed the ascender in silence until we reached the open doorway of the village meeting hall, a small, slapdash building we had left empty for meetings and such, just to make things feel a little more officious.

Anvald stepped aside and waved me in. As I stepped through, my eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light, but I began to make out what sounded like a long-running argument.

“—blood Vassere lacks the standing to claim authority over Highblood Ainsworth soldiers,” the strong voice of an older man was saying. “We have few enough left. I won’t have them drawn off to other duties when they should be protecting me, my wife, and my heir, do you understand? After everything we’ve done for this movement, everything we’ve sacrificed, to now be asked to bend the knee to this…this…”

I squinted slightly, and my eyes adjusted enough to see Baldur Vassere try and fail not to roll his eyes. “I’m not—ugh, surely, Scythe Seris, you can see that I’m only trying to—”

“Again, I’d like to remind everyone that blood station carries no weight at all in this new nation of Alacryans,” Corbett of Highblood Denoir interrupted.

No, just Corbett Denoir, I reminded myself, the thought reinforced by the man’s own words.

“As of two days ago, we all agreed to move forward as equals,” he finished.

I moved to flank Baldur, whom I had worked with closely since this prison-turned-refuge was formed for the Alacryan soldiers. Arthur himself had put Baldur in charge of rounding up the first Alacryans from the armies around Blackbend and guiding them into the wasteland.

Seth didn’t follow, but lingered next to the door.

Seris’s brows rose slightly as she addressed my arrival. “Some of those who came with me have questioned Baldur Vassere’s leadership, Lyra. I believe Ector here suggested that a ‘second-tier cousin of a second-tier highblood’ had no right to be giving orders to such potent highbloods as Frost and Ainsworth. It strikes me that this is, perhaps, exactly the right time to see some proof of this new societal concept of ours…one in which the ‘purity’ of one’s blood, as determined by the Vritra, is not in fact the end-all be-all of one’s worth.”

As the pressure built, some couldn’t help but step back, reeling from the weight of it even at this distance. Others, I was worried to see, stumbled toward the signature, jaws slack and faces expectant, almost reverent. Hopeful. _{freewebnσvel.cøm}