The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 464

Chapter 464

Chapter 462: A Plan in Many Parts

10 minutes ago

ARTHUR LEYWIN

Vajrakor’s tense steps carried him from left to right and back again in front of the dwarven throne. The noise of each footfall was muffled by the thick red rug that ran the length of the throne room, a cool, cavernous chamber held up by tall carved stone arches. Vajrakor was staring at his feet but stole a glance at me or the other people in the room every couple of steps. A single asuran guard stood to the left of the throne, staring straight ahead.

Just as the silence reached the point of becoming frustrating, he said, “So why not bury yourself in the deepest hole you can find, somewhere no one can dig you out?”

“I considered it,” I admitted. “Spreading a story that I’d be going on an extended Relictombs trip or something to make sure my absence didn’t spark a panic and then, as you said, hiding somewhere I’m unlikely to be found. But the Legacy is in Dicathen, or at least she was, which means Agrona is preparing something. He’s escalating.”

Curtis Glayder, standing near Vajrakor with his sister, frowned as he asked, “Forgive me, Arthur, but why does her presence matter so much?”

“Because something important is happening just behind the curtain, but we don’t know what,” I answered, keeping my voice level. “But more importantly, the Legacy has a sense and control of magic that I can’t even explain. And she’s shown some understanding of the way mana and aether interact with each other, meaning I can’t be sure I can truly hide anywhere. Not without her hunting me down.”

“But she can’t follow you to the Relictombs,” Caera asked, her first words since the meeting began. “Why not sequester yourself away within them—you could find somewhere safe with the Compass, I’m sure—and wait it out there.”

I shook my head. “I’ve already tested this theory. I can’t breach the keystone’s security measures within the Relictombs. Something about this one is different.”

A tense lull fell over the conversation, and I looked around at all those present, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

Bairon Wykes stood straight and tall beside Virion, who in turn seemed somehow thin and diminished, even though his gaze remained unwavering and his posture was poised.

Next to them, Gideon and Wren Kain both hovered impatiently. A straight-backed woman stood with her hands behind her back at their side, her torso bare except for a strip of dark cloth across her chest. She was covered in scars.

Caera stood just behind them, almost as if she were using them to shield herself from Vajrakor. Her red eyes caught mine, and she bobbed her head slightly, her azure hair shifting around the visible horns wrapping around her head. Regis was at her side, settled protectively between her and the dragons, who he glowered at unabashedly.

Mica and Varay were present as well. Mica was unsettled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other constantly. Her remaining eye jumped from person to person in an endless loop, while the jet black stone of her other seemed as if it were constantly fixed on me. Next to her, Varay was still as a block of ice,her short white hair fixed and unmoving.

Across from Virion, near Vajrakor, the Glayders both stood with perfect royal posture. Despite obvious efforts not to, they both kept shooting furtive glances at the scarred soldier next to Gideon.

Beside them and closer to me, Helen Shard stood a little back from the crowd with Jasmine, the two adventurers slightly out of place among the royalty and asura. Of everyone present, it was these two old friends—who I had known longer than even Tessia and Virion—that brought me comfort, which perhaps only made what I had to ask them even more difficult.

Finally, standing at my side like a shadow, was Ellie. She fidgeted nervously, her eyes focused anywhere except the other people in the room. The unstrung bow version of Aldir’s weapon, Silverlight, was strapped to her back. She hadn’t yet learned to use it, but I figured its presence brought her comfort.

Virion let out a low, thoughtful hum. “So why these locations specifically, then? Why this many?”

I gave him a soft smile as I shook my head. “I know my request is made more difficult by my inability to provide a thorough explanation. But this operation requires a certain amount of secrecy. I really can’t tell you more.”

“So far, you’ve spoken as if you know we’ll be attacked,” Helen said, “but you haven’t even told us what this is about. How can you be so certain the enemy will strike now?”

“I can’t,” I answered simply. “This could all end up being unnecessary, but preparation is never wasted, especially in war. Agrona has proven more than adept at infiltrating and turning even the highest levels of our leadership. His spies have infested Dicathen for decades, and he has been ahead of us at nearly every turn. It would be foolish to simply hope that he won’t discover and attempt to take advantage of my absence, either to come after me directly or to launch some kind of attack on Dicathen. We have to be ready.”

Kathyln’s brows rose slightly, and her eyes flashed to mine. “These places—they will become targets. That’s what you intend.”

Ellie shifted beside me, and I rested my hand on her shoulder, shooting her a warning look. “These locations will, by the very effort of our actions, likely become Agrona’s targets, yes. It allows us to fortify and prepare in a way we can’t otherwise, and protects less defensible areas through deflection.”

“So we’re putting our people in more danger than they might otherwise be by following along with your request,” Kathyln replied, quiet but cutting.

“Unless Etistin were to become a target anyway,” Jasmine answered, dismissing the younger woman with a single look.

Curtis shot Jasmine a glare but backed down quickly when she matched it, her light red eyes flaring like cinders.

“I fail to see how the elves can be of assistance here,” Virion said, sounding tired. “We are no longer a military force in this world, Arthur, as you well know.”

“It’s not the elves I need,” I explained gently. “It is you, Virion. You were the commander of the Tri-Union’s forces during the war. No one else here can match your strategic and military mind.” No one else that I can trust, at least.

Vajrakor scowled at this but did not interrupt. Virion frowned as well, but his expression communicated something very different from the dragon’s.

Other concerns were voiced, and I did my best to ease them without downplaying the dangers. It was important that each of the leaders present understood what was being asked of them and what they would in turn be asking of their fighting men and women. These were the decisions required of rulers, but the fact that I couldn’t be fully honest with them weighed heavy on my conscience. If people were going to die while I chased Fate, they deserved to be prepared, even if they couldn’t know the truth of why.

Wren hummed into the silence that followed their flurry of questions. “And do these fortifications require the same escalated timeline as my—our,” he amended, looking pointedly at Gideon, “project?”

Raising my chin, I met the many pairs of eyes turned in my direction in a single sweep. “Two weeks. That’s all the time we can afford to make preparations. I’d like to do it sooner, but I understand what I’m asking can’t be completed overnight.”

“Two weeks!” Vajrakor said with a booming, humorless laugh. “Two months would not be sufficient.”

Wren’s brows raised into his unkempt hairline, and he gave me a look that said very clearly, ‘I told you so.’

“My task can’t wait any longer than that. If possible—and if the risk to Dicathen weren’t so high—I would have started already.” Sensing the right moment for a distraction, I shot Wren a look and nodded subtly. “You all need time to think things over. I understand. I would like to speak with each of you individually to better answer your questions and plan the appropriate defenses. But while you are together, I wanted to give Master Gideon an opportunity to speak as well.”

The old inventor cleared his throat and scratched his head as all eyes turned to him.

“As some of you are likely aware, we are currently working on a military project designed to help even the odds against Agrona’s superior number of mages,” Gideon explained. He provided an overview of the fire salt-infused weapons, which the Forgemasters and Earthmovers Guilds were already working to produce in larger numbers. Then, he gestured to the woman at his side. “Claire, would you care to speak about the other project?”

Moving with a stringent military march, her long scarlet hair bouncing with each forceful step, she strode out into the middle of the chamber. Wearing only the strip of dark cloth and a pair of tight-fitting leather breaches, the large jagged scar across her sternum was plainly visible. Although this scar was old and healed over, fresher scars radiated out from around it, the newest still red and irritated—only recently healed.

“Officer Claire Bladeheart, current operator of unit zero-zero-one,” she said with clipped military precision, then bowed, first to Vajrakor, then to everyone else.

Kathyln wore a subdued but proud smile, while Curtis’s eyes kept being dragged down to the scars on Claire’s torso before snapping back up to her face.

She immediately launched into what sounded like a rehearsed explanation about her role in the secret project, giving those in attendance the full details of the new weapons and what they were capable of. “With the provided timeline, I believe that we’ll have at least twelve candidates who will be able to offer instruction to the new cadets, once the next batch of units are made.”

“And how many of these…units will be operable in the next two weeks?” Bairon asked skeptically.

“Perhaps a hundred or close to it—if we have the people to use them.”

Mica snorted. “Can a hundred make a difference? And against not Scythes, but these Wraith things, or hells, even asura.”

Claire went back and forth with a few of the others, offering some additional specifics on the capabilities of the project.

As I listened to her explain things I already knew, I felt my insides squirm slightly with discomfort. There was a certain kind of morbid edge to Wren and Gideon’s invention, but I understood the necessity. Perhaps, with time, the implementation could be more palatable. At the very least, it was an invention entirely of this world, created by Wren and Gideon alone, the fusion of human and asuran ingenuity.

More so than the explanation itself, I found myself focused on Claire. I had only just learned of her participation as an operator, but there was something correct about her presence. My old classmate, the head of the Disciplinary Committee at Xyrus Academy. It had been around six years since her core was destroyed during Draneeve’s attack on the academy, and when I’d last seen her, she had been a ghost of her former self.

Now she stood straight and proud, her explanation firm and exuding ambition.

It gave me hope.

After a lengthy discussion about the project, Claire left, and Gideon and Wren went with her, excusing themselves to return to their work, which was now on an aggressive timetable. That seemed to be a signal for the others to break free as well, but I promised to visit each of them as soon as possible and offer any assistance I could in order to put my plan into action. Caera hesitated, but I sent her out with a subtle gesture, and Regis returned to my side.

Ellie, the last to leave, gave me a quick side hug. “Should I wait?”

“No, you’re dismissed, soldier,” I said teasingly. “I’ll find you again soon so we can practice.”

Nodding, she hurried out, leaving only Vajrakor and his guard with me in the throne room. The Guardian eased himself down on the throne, watching me curiously.

“I don’t intend to draw more attention to Vildorial, but I’m afraid it will be a target anyway,” I said, moving to stand before the throne, which meant I had to look up at Vajrakor. “You need to be ready. I can’t say what Agrona might throw at you.”

He scoffed. “You mean, if he attacks at all. You seem to be suffering from some mythical thinking in regards to Agrona, as if he has some magical insight into all that happens. It seems to me that even telling this group was a mistake.” Vajrakor leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “We haven’t even seen any sign of the Legacy, as you so seem to fear.”

“That doesn’t change the reality of our situation, which is that I refuse to discount Agrona’s ability to see and take advantage of our weaknesses. Now, let us discuss what Vildorial can do to prepare for another potential attack.”

***

After a frustrating conversation with Vajrakor, I left with Regis on my heels, already turning my thoughts toward the next conversation I needed to have, but I felt the weight lift from my shoulders as I entered the outer chamber of the palace entry and found Sylvie waiting for me.

Despite her aging through the process of her “death” and “rebirth,” Sylvie still looked young standing apart from the few clan lords and high-ranking guild members who lingered around the palace. Once, she stood out wherever she went, with her dark horns jutting up from her pale blonde hair, but now she wasn’t even the only dragon in the room, as another of Vajrakor’s guards lingered near the entryway, looming over everyone who came and went.

How did things go with the survivors?

‘Well enough,’ she thought back, a throughline of sadness undercutting her words. ‘Those people—the few who survived—won’t recover quickly from the trauma they’ve gone through.’

‘From one tragedy to the next…’ Regis added darkly.

I cleared my throat and indicated for her to follow me, leaving the palace and heading upward along the tunnels and stairs leading toward Virion’s retreat. Sylvie filled me in on everything happening in Xyrus as we walked.

Entering the cavern housing the last remaining tree from Elenoir was sort of like going through a portal into another world. So bright and green, it was easy to forget you were underground.

The cavern had changed somewhat since we were last there. A large section of the ground had been tilled and was now growing a variety of plants, mostly small tree seedlings. Virion was on his hands and knees in the soil, carefully uprooting one of the seedlings with a trowel. Bairon stood behind him wearing a pair of gardening gloves and holding a glass jar half full of soil.

“You’re early,” Virion grumbled under his breath, easing the seedling down into the jar, which Bairon carefully set aside in a cart full of similar jarred plants. “I assumed Vajrakor would keep you all day.”

“What’s all this then?” I asked, leading Sylvie and Regis over to the garden. Glancing at Bairon, I added, “That’s a good look for you.”

He regarded me with his usual coolness. “Whether I wear steel gauntlets or leather gardening gloves, I do so for the good of Dicathen.”

Virion gave a loud and indelicate snort. “I’ve been experimenting with the soil from Epheotus and the seedlings of this great tree. We’ve already even transplanted a few to various out-of-the-way regions around the Elenoir Wastes. I’m hoping to extrapolate the unique qualities of the soil and how it affects the seeds, but Tessia was always the expert in plant-attribute mana.”

Quiet fell as the old elf stared down into the jar.

“Tessia…” Virion lifted his gaze, searching mine for any semblance of hope. “How does she fit into all of this?”

I had expected this from him and had spent quite a lot of time considering how to handle the Legacy. “If Agrona attacks, we have to expect that the Legacy will be at the forefront. Not to put too fine a point on it”—I met Bairon’s hard gaze—“but no one other than me can hope to even delay her, much less put up a fight. Even I’m not sure I can defeat her in battle. Which is why we’re not going to fight her at all.”

I raised my hand, forestalling the barrage of questions I was certain were coming. “I can’t give you the details, but I’ve already got a plan on how to remove her from the battle, at least for a while—without harming Tessia,” I added hurriedly as a scowl formed on Virion’s face. “As for you, I apologize for putting you on the spot earlier, in the meeting. You are right. You should take your people and go hide somewhere, away from the likely targets. The borderlands at the base of the Grand Mountains, perhaps, or northeast Sapin where there is nothing to draw Agrona’s attention.”

Virion stood, seeming to shake off some of the fatigue and tiredness. He gave me a penetrating look. “No, you were right. Vajrakor and the dragons can’t be trusted to keep the best interests of the human and dwarven soldiers in mind. I can’t leave the protection of this continent to the same creatures that destroyed my homeland, Arthur.”

I mulled over my words before saying, “There is no shame to stay out of the fighting, not after everything that your people have already sacrificed to this war. Elenoir deserves to be replanted, and you deserve to be the one who accomplishes that.”

As Virion swallowed heavily, Bairon shifted, taking a half-step closer.

“Perhaps regrowing the forests of Elenoir won’t be enough to balm the guilt of my many failures,” Virion said, his gravelly voice softening to barely above a whisper. “And if I keep fighting, maybe I won’t even live to see it. If that’s what it takes to ensure that the elves are, one day, able to return to the forests that birthed them, then that is a sacrifice I am willing to make.” He took a steadying breath. “Although, if I had one last wish, it would be to walk beneath the trees of Elshire once more with Tessia at my side. Then, I can call my time in this world well spent.”

Reaching out, I wrapped my arms around his thin body, foolishly afraid that I might snap him in half as I gave him a light hug. “Thank you for everything, Gramps.”

He let out a rough snort. “Brat.”

With a firm shake of Bairon’s hand, I gathered Sylvie and Regis, and we headed back down the long stairs that would return us to the palace. From there, my next stop was deep beneath the city, and so we wound down the highway that circled the city, built into the great cavern’s walls.

Once we were beyond the populated part of the city, I channeled King’s Gambit. By lightly imbuing the godrune with aether, I could activate it only partially. While it still glowed golden from my spine, it didn’t conjure the blazing crown atop my head—which seemed like a great way to start any number of unwanted rumors about me.

The result was an ability less powerful than what I’d used against Oludari but still allowed me to break my thoughts apart into pieces in a way that wasn’t possible without the godrune. I’d already found this invaluable as I outlined the many layers present in the plan I was attempting to put into place.

Sylvie and Regis followed my thoughts quietly, struggling to keep in tune as I considered my previous conversations, how the attitudes of everyone involved might impact the execution of this plan, and also outlining the conversations to come. There was a cold comfort to being under the effects of King’s Gambit; it was easier to strip away the emotion—all the fear and guilt—and approach the necessary solution objectively and logically.

With my plan still sitting in its box like a jigsaw puzzle divided into many disparate pieces, it was difficult to see it all without the godrune, and so I’d been spending every spare moment with King’s Gambit active.

As we crossed into one of the larger caves on the way to the deep workshops, a flash from Regis dragged all of my threads of thought back into alignment.

Caera stood by herself atop a flat rock that divided a stream running through the cave. Her figure was little more than a silhouette in the flickering light of a fire that burned from the stream’s shore.

Moving slowly, she drew in a breath and then pushed her hands outward. Light filled the cave as a fiery wave of heat rolled out of her, the water hissing and steaming in response. I squinted through the heat distortion as Caera seemed to vanish, melting into the shadows and steam. She flickered in and out of view, then the heatwave and steam both diminished.

Only then did she turn to look at us, a pleased smile half suppressed. “I was hoping you’d be down soon.

“Caera,” I said in greeting. “How is your family?”

“Fine,” she said simply. “Shaken up and, I think, questioning their decision to follow Seris…not really, but you know what I mean. I couldn’t bring myself to stay out in those wastes with them, though, and I’m glad I returned. I’ve been helping Gideon and Emily with the next stage of their testing with the spellforms. They wanted to study Alacryan runes, and to see if someone who already had some would experience these…spellforms differently.”

“I assumed,” I said simply, gesturing to the stream that had, only moments ago, been hissing with steam.

A grin suddenly bloomed over her features, and she half turned and pulled up her shirt, revealing the runes hidden beneath, including one higher and larger than the rest. “I received a Regalia! Or—” She cut herself off, seeming to realize the position she was in, and then slowly lowered her shirt. Clearing her throat, she continued, “That…wasn’t very ladylike. I apologize.”

I heard the words preparing to bubble up out of Regis like a geyser before he had quite started to speak, and I trod heavily on his foot.

“No, it wasn’t,” I answered, although I didn’t try to hide the laughter in my tone.

“Anyway, there is something distinctly less…forceful about the Dicathian application of spellforms,” she said, wry amusement lending a cutting edge to her tone. “I’m not entirely certain that these spellforms align to the same classifications used in Alacrya, especially for those of us who have benefited from your…proximity.” She glanced away, one hand feathering through her hair as she tucked it back behind her horns.

I was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, then I turned to my companions. “Could I…have a moment alone with Caera, please?”

Sylvie’s brows rose a fraction of an inch before she controlled her expression. Putting a hand on Regis’s mane, she said only, “Of course. We’ll continue on, then.”

“Whoa, uncool. We’re the horny trio, remember, trio, not the—”

Grabbing one of his horns, Sylvie steered Regis away, cutting off his protests. Caera raised her hand in a small wave, then regarded me thoughtfully.

I waited until they were gone and raised the mental barrier between us. “Do you know what we’re doing down here?”