The Beginning After The End novel Chapter 476

Chapter 476

Chapter 474: Cracks in the Ice

VARAY AURAE

“If the army attacks, I don’t think we have the forces to hold them back.”

“Of course we don’t! We haven’t had a chance to recover from the war and the Battle of the Bloodwater. Without the dragons, we might as well throw open the gates and let the enemy march right on in!”

“Spoken like a true Beynir.”

“How dare you, madam! House Beynir is the oldest and most loyal supporter of House Glayder!”

“And yet Sir Lionel, your brother, was part of a treasonous plot to take over the Wall and hold it alongside the Flamesworths for his own personal enrichment.”

“That was—”

“Enough.” Lord Curtis didn’t raise his voice in anger; instead, he just sounded tired.

I glanced at him surreptitiously from the corner of my eye. He had dark bags under his eyes, his usually impeccable mahogany hair was disheveled, and there was a certain softness to the way he slumped into his chair that reminded me intensely of his father.

Beside him, Lady Kathyln looked as she always did: rigid, sharply aware, and immediately present in the conversation. Her dark brown eyes gave away no hint of her thoughts, and, unlike her brother, not a single jet-black hair was out of place as it framed her pale face and cascaded down her straight back.

Even the mana the two royals exuded was the polar opposite: Curtis’s flickering and fiery mana seemed to ebb and flow with every comment, while Kathyln’s was still and stoic, just like her.

Across the ornate table from the royal siblings sat their council. Otto Beynir, a short, pudgy man with particularly unhealthy-looking skin glared at Lady Vesta of House Lambert. The older woman, who looked every bit the part of the elder stateswoman of her house in her puffy purple and maroon dress and her silly feathered hat, did not glare but simmered with derision, one brow raised and her lips slightly pursed.

Sir Abrham of House Astor, a man of middle years with a paunchy belly and a patchwork beard from the scar across his left side, cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I struggle to see how Otto is wrong here, Vesta. Look at the facts.” He stabbed the mahogany table top with a calloused finger, his mana wavering with suppressed nerves. “We put everything we had into guaranteeing a relationship with the dragons, but they’ve up and left us to die. Arthur Leywin’s mysterious strategy has spread Dicathen’s defenders thinly across the continent. We’re facing an opponent who already defeated us once, and handily I might add. The only positive development I can see is that the Alacryan forces haven’t turned their attention to Etistin yet.”

Miss Mountbatten trembled as she leaned forward over the table. The elected voice of the commoners, Dee looked more like a baker than a royal counselor, but she was normally a voice of reason within the council’s politics. “I still don’t understand. You promised that the dragons would protect the people!”

Jackun of House Maxwell let out a booming laugh, causing a surge of mana to ripple through and around him. The retired warrior was a big man, and when he wished it, his voice easily swallowed everyone else's. “They’ve left us proper fucked. It’s clear we were utter fools to ever put faith in them.”

A chorus of admonishments erupted around the ornate table, but Jackun waved them off with his customary disregard for the expected niceties.

“This isn’t helpful.” The council chamber fell silent as Lady Kathyln’s icy voice cut across their arguments. All eyes turned to her, even her brother’s. Her steady gaze swept across the counselors. “You forget yourselves, all of you. Our purpose here is to serve the people of Etistin, and all of Sapin. This panic, infighting, and fatalistic complaining hardly does so. We are not defeated, so we are not abandoning our duty.”

She paused, inviting the counselors to respond, but the chamber was the quietest I had ever heard it. Within the silence, though, was a palpable tension that I sensed as a kind of focusing of the multiple mana signatures. An expectant shiver ran through my core, and I shifted uncomfortably.

“We have made mistakes, all of us,” she continued, some of that sharp edge leaving her tone. “Curtis and I were eager to believe the dragons were our salvation, and perhaps we have allowed that desire to cloud our judgment. But you all speak as if hope is lost when there is a greater plan unfolding that we don’t fully understand.”

Otto Beynir scoffed. When Kathyln answered with a piercing glare, the shifty little man at least had the good graces to appear apologetic. “My Lady Glayder, it would be a fool’s hope to trust that Arthur Leywin can stop what is unfolding.”

“Was it not Arthur who warned us not to trust the dragons?” Kathyln interjected. “I am ashamed to have allowed the malcontent of this counsel to convince me that it was Arthur who posed a danger over the dragons.”

“Lady, let’s not act as if Arthur Leywin is infallible,” Beynir countered. “If the messages we have received are correct, the Alacryans so ignorantly ‘imprisoned’ on the other side of the Wall have turned against us, and Alacryan forces have struck out across most of Dicathen. The only saving grace at all is that they seem to be focusing their efforts on finding Leywin himself.”

Florian Glayder, third cousin to Curtis and Kathyln, brushed his fingers through hair that matched Curtis’s in color before speaking for the first time in several minutes. “And that, I think, is our strategy. We have already evacuated the surrounding countryside, bringing everyone within fifty miles behind the walls. We have provisions to last through a siege if they attempt such a thing, which would be unlikely since Lance Godspell is not within the city anyway. We just need to stay within our walls and wait.”

“Perhaps it would be best if the man were caught,” Vesta said tentatively, as if she were verbally testing the waters of this line of thinking.

My gaze jumped to Curtis and Kathyln. Curtis leaned forward and rubbed his chin with his fingers, a small frown creasing his brow as he considered his advisor’s words. His mana jumped and sparked like a fire struggling to catch in wet wood. Beside him, his sister had frozen, her mouth open slightly, a crack in her carefully managed facade.

“Finally, the lady from House Lambert speaks sense,” Otto said, throwing up his hands.

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” Miss Mountbatten said at nearly the same time.

“Now, Dee, it may seem cruel, but think about it,” Abrham interjected with a gesture of peace. “Arthur Leywin has been antagonistic toward the dragons and disrespectful to Lord and Lady Glayder. If the enemy wants him this bad, finding him might just give Guardian Charon enough time to settle whatever emergency he’s been called to so he can sweep the rest of the Alacryans from the continent.”

“The dragons spit in your face, and you open your mouth to drink it in like fresh spring rain,” Jackun growled, shaking his shaved head. “I don’t care much for this high-and-mighty Leywin feller, but the dragons have shown us just how much they think of us. How many of those scaly bastards are in Dicathen? And they don’t leave even one to guard Lady Kathyln and Lord Curtis? Nah, you’d have to be a complete moron to expect that they’ll be back to help.”

Otto leaned forward, pressing his palms into the table top. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t discount the rest of the plan. We know where the Leywin boy is hidden. We could eliminate two threats at once if we offered to trade that information for a promise of peace.”

Kathyln’s head tilted to the side, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “So your suggestion is to offer the enemy what they want and beg for them to just leave us alone?”

“It would be a more sensible path than using the bodies of your people as shields for a man who refused even to explain why he expected us to die for him!” Otto barked.

There was a sharp scraping noise as Kathyln pushed her chair back from the table and stood suddenly. “You go too far, Otto. Go, now, and be glad that I’m allowing you to do so instead of locking you in the palace dungeon.” Kathyln’s glare was bitterly cold and empty of emotion. Her lack of anger only made the expression more cutting.

“L-L-Lady, I…” Otto stared at Kathyln with wide eyes as his voice left him, his mouth continuing to puff mutely.

“Kathyln—” Curtis started, reaching a placating hand toward his sister, but she silenced whatever argument he was preparing to give with a single look.

Curtis cleared his throat and stood, gestured for the chamber doors to be opened, then lingered beside them and spoke briefly to each counselor as they left. I followed behind Florian, but Kathyln spoke my name, stopping me and indicating I should stay. When all the others were gone, Curtis also dismissed the guards and then closed the doors behind them.

He regarded his sister warily. “That was poorly handled, Kathyln. These people are just as powerful as we are, perhaps even more so, and we owe much of our success to them.”

“I do not see that as the benefit you seem to,” Kathyln answered matter-of-factly. ”They were out of line, and they needed to be reminded of their role here.”

Curtis raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I’m not suggesting we follow through with Otto’s plan, of course, but they aren’t exactly wrong to be scared.”

Kathyln took a deep breath, outwardly settling her nerves. “I’m afraid Otto’s desire might come to pass even without our interference. According to our scouts, the Alacryans are growing near to finding the hidden cave. Our earth-attribute mages covered it well, but we can’t know what kind of magic these invaders may be using to search for Arthur.” Kathyln’s eyes met mine. “Lance Varay, I would like to know what you think we should do.”

My voice was slightly rough from disuse, and I had to swallow to wet my throat. “I do have a suggestion, but I’m…not entirely certain you will like it.”

Kathyln allowed herself the smallest of smiles, while Curtis crossed his arms and regarded me with undisguised concern. “Go on,” Kathyln said.

“Arthur made one thing clear to us,” I began, calling back to our last conversation with him before he went into hiding. “He asked us to do everything in our power to ensure that his location was not discovered. With the Alacryans searching the surrounding wilderlands, it seems like only a matter of time. We need to draw their attention in a different direction.”

“What exactly do you have in mind, Lance?” Curtis asked, stiffening.

“The coastline to the southwest is full of natural caves. The Alacryan forces haven’t yet concentrated on them, but we have reports of a few scouting parties moving in that direction.” I paused, knowing how the next part sounded. “I will fly there immediately and strike, acting as if I’m preventing them from searching the coast.”

“You would use yourself as a distraction?” Curtis asked, his voice full of disbelief. “Absurd. I know how powerful you are, Varay, but you can’t hope to fight off an entire army on your own. What if they are led by retainers or Scythes?”

Or even Wraiths, I acknowledged, though I didn’t speak the thought out loud. “The harder fought the battle, the more it will sell the diversion.”

“You are too valuable,” Curtis answered, shaking his head and taking a step closer to me and Kathyln. “I won’t allow you to risk yourself for Arthur, especially since we have received conflicting reports of his actual location.”

Kathyln’s brows rose. “Arthur has asked us to buy him time. If he had a reason to make us believe he was in that cave, then it doesn’t matter if he is actually there or not. We must act as if he is.”

“Of course, it matters,” Curtis countered immediately. “If he isn't here, then we don't need to risk Varay's life or the lives of the soldiers behind the walls.”

“And yet giving in and letting the Alacryans pass would allow them to search their next destination even more quickly,” Kathyln countered.

“That is a problem for the defenders of those locations then!” Curtis burst out, crossing his arms defensively.

A sudden crack silenced all three of us, and even Kathyln seemed surprised as she pulled back the hand that had just slapped Curtis’s face. Mana seethed between them, rearing up like two opposing hades serpents preparing to strike. But the shock and hostility melted away almost instantly, and Kathyln continued. “Are we not meant to be leaders, the hope and strength of Dicathen, not just of Etistin? Don't lose sight of the bigger picture. Do not become our father, Curtis.”

The royal siblings regarded each other for some time, Curtis’s hand still pressed against the cheek Kathyln had slapped. Although his face was pale except for the red mark where his sister’s hand had struck, his shock faded to a kind of steely grit, and he nodded, his eyes hardening with determination as he met first Kathyln’s eyes and then mine.

“Let’s discuss the specifics of this plan. Please, Varay, continue.”

With no time to waste, I provided the details of where I would strike and what my fallback plan was in the event that I became overwhelmed. And within the hour, I was flying southwest along the coast.

I kept high, within the cloud cover. Cold moisture collected on me, but I didn’t feel the chill. My mind remained abuzz with considerations of how the assault could unfold, and by the time I sensed the Alacryan search parties below, I felt confident in what was to follow.

Coming to a stop high above my targets, still shrouded within a dark cloud, I directed my senses toward the dim mana signatures below. Four battle groups moved together, scouring the countryside. By the way their formation moved, I was certain that at least two of the mages were Sentries. Spells were active, the crackle of their mana present in the atmosphere around the Alacryans, sparking like a lightning spell across the surface of water.

A deep, unfocused piece of me wondered what it would be like to see the individual particles of mana the way Arthur could. If he were present, could he tell me what the spells were doing just by looking at the way the mana formed? But the entire reason I am here is because he can’t be. And I need to ensure that he remains protected.

The moisture within the cloud condensed into needles of ice, each one a foot long. These needles rotated around me as I drifted to the bottom of the cloud and emerged into open air. I already had a strong sense of exactly where my targets were, and it took only a moment to visually hone in on the sixteen Alacryans. Aiming very carefully, I launched the series of needles in a sudden hail of death.

Barely audible cries floated up to me on the wind as half of the Alacryan mages crumpled, killed instantly by the strike. Shields of wind, water, and fire erupted colorfully over the remaining Alacryans just as a second volley of ice spikes struck them. A beam of sickly green mana speared through the air toward me, but I wove around it easily before catching a series of blue fireballs on a heavy shield of ice.

I countered with more spells, which deflected off the interlocking shields. The Alacryans’ shouts were unintelligible, but their panic was clear. They could do little aside from huddle beneath their shields with their last two Casters hurling weak spells.

Pushing mana into my eyes, I peered through the distortions in the air to watch them closely. A woman I’d identified as a Sentry was channeling a spell, her attention turned to the east, while a Striker rapidly scrawled across a crumpled parchment with a shaky hand. I hit the shields with more ice spikes, making sure not to overpower the mages conjuring them.

The Sentry’s eyes snapped open, and she shouted something I couldn’t make out. Word sent. The cavalry should arrive soon enough.

Weaving a net of fine, nearly invisible ice filaments, I cast it over the remaining enemies. A couple of Strikers darted out of the way with a burst of speed, but the others came together, hunkering beneath their protective barriers.

The fine filaments sliced right through the mana and eviscerated the handful of soldiers beneath it, dousing their spells in an instant.

The two Strikers sprinted away at impressive speeds. Instead of cutting them down, I floated back up into the clouds, vanishing the same way I had appeared. There, I prepared for the next stage of the battle.

My first series of strikes had been precise, killing the strongest mages and most of the Casters while only wounding the others. The following barrage had been weakened purposefully, pinning the Alacryans down but giving them time to send word for reinforcements with whatever artifacts or magic they had at their disposal. With that concluded, there was no reason to allow them all to live, but letting the final two Strikers escape provided a backup in the event that the earlier messages went awry. It should also, I calculated, provide a sufficiently believable outcome considering the image I was attempting to portray.

The dense cloud, heavy with moisture and already bitter cold, was the perfect staging ground for me to prepare for the next phase of this diversionary battle.

Drawing on the atmospheric mana, I felt it rush into my core and begin to purify. At the same time, using the technique Arthur had taught me while removing the asuras’ limitations on my growth, I began releasing my own purified deviant ice-attribute mana, which clung to the vapor that made up the cloud. The sensation of mana rotation never failed to conjure goosebumps along the back of my neck as I absorbed mana, channeled it, and continuously clarified my core simultaneously. Even the simple act of clarifying my core felt strange and exhilarating after spending so long in the white core stage with no change.

The clouds around me began to harden, freezing into a kind of cocoon or shell, which my mana kept stationary. As that cloud froze, the effect extended outward, the ice crawling over and through each vaporous mass, hardening and growing heavy in the air.

It required a meditative mindset to utilize mana rotation in this way, and my mind was full only of the act itself as I froze the very sky. I experienced no sense of time focusing so intently, and so it was with a slight jolt of adrenaline that I felt the approaching mana signatures in the distance

At first, there were only two heavy, potent auras. The mages exuding them were confident enough that they approached openly, without attempting to suppress their signatures. I did not recognize the signatures, but based on the strength they exuded, I thought they couldn’t be Scythes or Wraiths.

Confident as they seemed, the approaching signatures halted well away from where I’d defeated the scouting party. Churning behind them, only sensible from this distance as their numbers grew, a host of Alacryan mages gathered as well. Hundreds at least, perhaps thousands, I thought in a detached kind of way. Once, perhaps, I would have balked at the idea of facing such a host. After all, hadn’t Lance Alea and her entire regiment been defeated by only a single retainer and a much smaller force of Alacryan mages? And yet much has changed since those days.