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Chapter 496: Trust

“Lord Indrath. Welcome.” If Veruhn was surprised by Kezess’s sudden appearance, he hid it well. “It is a rare treat for you to visit us here in Ecclesia.”

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. How much had Kezess heard? I readied myself to fend off an attack.

“Arthur is needed at my castle,” Kezess said perfunctorily.

I hesitated. His tone bore no hostility. He wasn’t seething with suppressed mana or aether as if containing his rage. There was no outward sign of displeasure, not even the darkening of his eyes. If he’d heard anything dangerous, he was playing it incredibly close to the chest.

His request could have been a cover. It seemed unlike him to have come all this way to collect me in person, especially when Windsom had left me here barely more than an hour ago. Perhaps he wants to relocate this conversation to somewhere he has more power. I considered refusing. I’d be leaving my family—my clan—behind, without my protection. Even though I trusted Veruhn and his people, it was a ready-made excuse. Putting myself in Kezess’s power was foolish.

There was also the power dynamic between us to consider. I didn’t want to give the impression that I was distrustful or unreasonable. Every exchange between us couldn’t turn into an exaggerated pissing contest, like the battle of wills above the lava fields, or I would fail in my mission before I’d even begun. If he hadn’t overheard our conversation, I couldn’t afford to rouse his suspicion now.

“What’s this about?” I asked, watching him carefully as I walked along the skeletal pier to stand face to face with him.

“I shall tell you when we arrive,” Kezess said. To Veruhn, he added a perfunctory, “Farewell,” and then his power was wrapping around me.

I resisted on impulse, sheathing myself in aether. Kezess’s power struggled against my own, but only for an instant. I let him through, and then we were being shunted through space, appearing in a nondescript corridor only a moment later.

Torches flickered on the walls, highlighting a clean hallway with no doors and no apparent way in or out. “Hauling me off to the dungeons already?” I quipped, using the humor to hide my actual nervousness. “Do the other lords of the Great Eight know about this?”

Kezess didn’t answer. The tails of his jacket flared as he marched down the hallway. Rolling my eyes, I followed.

‘Arthur, where are you?’ Sylvie’s voice in my mind was light and distant.

I quickly explained what had happened.

Regis’s indignation burned beneath my skin. ‘Let us know if we need to stage a heroic rescue.’

No, hang tight, I urged them both. Just make sure my family is safe. I can handle things here. I clamped down hard on any doubt I felt about that statement, not wanting my companions to know just how nervous I really was.

After a hundred feet or so, Kezess stopped, and the wall to his right began to unfold. The stones separated like the teeth of a zipper, then rotated away and folded back as if made of cloth.

On the other side was a cell. It was bright, mostly due to a beam of light that extended from floor to ceiling in the middle of the room. Suspended in that light was Agrona.

He looked just as he had when I’d last seen him: blank-eyed and slack-jawed, like a puppet with its strings cut. His opulent clothes were wrinkled and stained, the chains and ornaments in his horns tangled together. In a word, he looked truly and utterly pathetic, less than a shadow of the horror that had for so long dominated my mind.

“No change then?” I asked. “Don’t you have healers?”

“Of course, Art.”

Turning back to Kezess, I found Lady Myre standing beside him, although I had felt no sign of her arrival. Tall and graceful, she wore the form of an ageless, beautiful woman instead of the wizened figure I’d first met. Her powerful aura only hit me after I realized she was there.

“We have access to incredible healing magic,” she continued, moving to stand right in front of Agrona. She had to crane her neck to look up at his blank face. “But nothing has managed to make so much as an eyelash flicker. Even Oludari Vritra could shed no light on Agrona’s condition.”

“Where is the Sovereign?” I asked, surprised they had involved him in this at all. It seemed dangerous to give him any knowledge he might turn against us, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew more than he was letting on.

“He’s a guest in my castle, for the moment.”

“He is clanless,” Myre added. “Lord Kothan has been happy to let Oludari remain in our care. There is a good chance the basilisks would kill him if he attempted to go home. Perhaps one day.”

I didn’t respond. The Vritra clan was a blight, and Oludari was no better. I was certain Kezess had only allowed him to live so far because of some deal Oludari made regarding me, but it was the wrong time to address that topic. “He seemed half mad when I spoke to him. It’s no wonder he knew nothing about Agrona. His gaze seemed to be focused well away from Alacrya.”

Kezess eyed me for a moment, considering. “Indeed. He agreed only that Agrona’s body is alive. It continues to cycle enough mana to maintain itself, as if Agrona were sleeping. But there is no mind present within the shell. Our best manipulators of mental energy—an aspect of magic that Agrona himself was an expert in—can find nothing to read or cling to inside him.”

“It’s as if his mind was destroyed completely,” Myre said. Sucking her teeth, she turned around to regard me, her expression calculating. “We need to understand what happened, Art. What else can you tell us about what occurred between you in that cave?”

I activated King’s Gambit.

Aether flooded my mind, which opened like the canopy of a great tree, every branch holding its own individual thought. The crown on my brow shed light over the faces of Kezess and Myre. Kezess’s jaw tightened, and his eyes shifted to a plum shade of purple. Myre cocked her head slightly, her gaze trailing from my aether core, along the channels I had forged to manipulate aether, and through the window of my eyes into what lay beyond. It was unclear just how much of what she saw she could understand.

My feet lifted off the floor, and I rotated around Agrona and the beam of light, studying him intently.

The threads of Fate were gone, not that I could see them without Fate’s presence. I had cut them away, which had resulted in the dissolution of Agrona’s impact on the world. The result was a sudden shockwave that tore across both continents. I couldn’t explain why it had left Agrona in this vegetative state, however, and even King’s Gambit was not able to invent new information out of nothing. Theories began to pile up, though, and a gnawing concern bit at my insides.

“I’ve told you everything I know.” Briefly, I reiterated my use of Fate, which I had already explained to Myre upon first waking in Epheotus. “Perhaps his mind simply couldn’t cope with the effects of being entirely severed from his people and plans.”

“But what does that mean?” Kezess said, pacing back and forth in front of Agrona in irritation. “What you describe is not possible.” He shot me a suspicious glance. “And if you had this power, why not kill him outright? Why stop at severing these ‘connections’ you have described.”

Had I not been deep within King’s Gambit, I would have had to suppress a smirk at his discomfort. As it was, this uncharacteristic show of emotion from Kezess was noted by only one of many parallel thought processes. “Fate, as the djinn correctly surmised, is another aspect of aether. It binds us together and helps to order the universe.” I purposefully kept the description vague and guessable. I didn’t want Kezess to understand the full truth yet. “The djinn had theorized a way to influence Fate, but it was limited.

“As for your other questions, the answer is simple.” I gazed down at him from where I floated. “Looking at the potential impact of my decision, I saw only a single path forward. Removal of the Legacy was the key, not destroying Agrona.” Kezess knew nothing about the building destructive force inside of the aetheric realm, unless he had overheard my conversation with Veruhn. I continued to hold eye contact, watchful for any flicker of acknowledgement or spark of understanding that would suggest he knew more than I’d told him.

“The way forward to what, exactly?” Kezess crossed his arms and held my gaze intently.

“A future that serves the most people in the most positive way,” I said, framing the answer obtusely.

He scoffed, but in his derision, I saw the truth: He hadn’t overheard the conversation. It was a relief, although I did not have to try to keep the emotion from my face due to King’s Gambit.

A separate thread of thought was examining him in a different light. I wondered, if I could still have seen the golden threads of Fate’s connections, what Kezess would look like. Over millennia, he had forced himself into the very center of power to influence both my world and Epheotus. His decisions impacted every lifeform on both worlds, his commands ended civilizations and gave birth to new races. Would he look like Agrona, bound in an uncountable number of those golden threads, or would he look more like the aspect of Fate itself, a being woven into the fabric of destiny?

“Perhaps in time, we will come to understand more,” Myre said placatingly, one hand brushing the back of her husband’s neck briefly. To me, she added, “There is one more thing we would ask of you, Art.”

“Perhaps you could release that ridiculous form,” Kezess said. His eyes were narrowed, but only very slightly, creating fine wrinkles around the corners. There was tension in his jaw and neck, and his irises had shifted toward magenta. He stood motionless. Whatever they were about to ask, he was uncertain, either about my answer or whether to ask at all.

Curious, I lowered to the ground and moved to face the pair of powerful asuras. Kezess’s request was most likely an attempt to handicap me, as he knew exactly what benefits King’s Gambit provided. “Perhaps you can forgive a small amount of caution on my own behalf, but I feel more comfortable with my godrune active. I wouldn’t ask that you shut yourself off from the mana that empowers your body in order to speak with me.”

“It displays a distinct lack of trust,” Kezess insisted. “I might even go so far as to call it an insult.”

“On the contrary, I have allowed myself to be placed under your power because I do trust you,” I lied. “You asked for me to come here, and I have. You asked for me to explain what happened to Agrona, and I have. The only reason for you to ask me to release my power is that you are distrustful of the advantage it provides me, an advantage that only serves to put us on a more even playing field.”

“If you feel more comfortable in the embrace of this magic, Art, then please keep it active,” Myre interjected.

Although she didn’t look at Kezess, something passed unspoken between them. He attempted to relax but wasn’t entirely successful.

“Although, as someone who you once might have called your mentor, I would suggest you be careful,” she added with a kind smile. “What you describe sounds like it could grow beyond comfort into an addiction.”

“Of course, Myre. I’ll be cautious,” I said, respectfully dismissive on the outside. One thread within the woven tapestry of my conscious thought focused entirely on her words, though.

I knew my family didn’t enjoy being around me when I spent too much time under the effects of the godrune, and my companions were forced to shut their minds off from me entirely. Reliance on the significant enhancements to my cognitive abilities and the dampening of emotions could prove as dangerous as any drug. In Epheotus though, where my opponents were all many thousands of times my own age and had lifetimes of experience that I could never hope to replicate, I had to take every advantage.

I also did not fully trust Myre’s intentions. “Now, what is it you want?”

Kezess stood before Agrona, not looking at me. His fists clenched. “There has been no criminal among the asura in all the time of my rulership more horrid than Agrona Vritra. He has been let off too easily. An example must be made, but I can’t do that with him in this state.”

“Use Oludari then,” I said. “Let him be the receptacle of your performative justice.”

Kezess rounded on me, his nostrils flaring and his eyes flashing. “Performative? Be careful, boy. Although asura in name, you are nonetheless—”

“Trust,” Myre said, emphasizing the word. “That is what we need now, between each other. Trust. Antagonism and impatience can only serve to harm the significant effort you’ve both gone to in order to reach this point in your relationship.” She gave me a look of mild disappointment. “You are the ambassador of your entire world. The archon race may be small, but those who are relying on you are many.”

Despite the matronly tone of constructive criticism, I felt the threat of her words in my bones. She was right, though. I wasn’t ready to be Kezess’s enemy. Not with everything I had to accomplish to reach my goal.

I relaxed the flow of aether into King’s Gambit, and the godrune faded to a partial charge. Empowering it this way was second nature by now, and helped to take the edge off the fatigue of releasing it. When I spoke, I did so slowly to not trip over my own tongue and give away my lethargy. “I apologize, I spoke too plainly. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Kezess returned to his placid facade as swiftly as he had grown angry. “My wife is right, as is usually the case.”

She smiled at him fondly. When she spoke, though, there was sadness in her tone. “Oludari will not serve the same purpose Agrona would. I’m certain you agree that this basilisk deserves true justice. Those we both love suffered as his hands more than most.”

I thought of Sylvia, hiding in her cave between the Elshire Forest and the Beast Glades with the enchanted egg of her only daughter, a daughter she shared with a man she thought she’d loved—a man who then had her killed so he could experiment on his own heir. I thought of Sylvie and the life she would have had if he’d been successful. I thought of Tessia, and the life she did have, imprisoned in her own body as the vessel for Cecilia’s rise to power.

“Of course he deserves justice,” I said solemnly. “But it seems to me as if he’s had it. Take his head and be done with it.”

“It’s still not enough,” Kezess said, his anger now directed toward Agrona’s mindless husk. “Which is why…we would like you to heal him, Arthur.”

In my current state, I didn’t immediately understand what he meant. Under the weight of both Kezess’s and Myre’s stares, the realization was like a heavy stone in my stomach. “You think the mourning pearl will heal him?” After everything I had learned about the pearls, I couldn’t believe they’d even suggest it. “Even if you’re certain it would…you want to waste it on him?”

“It is a valuable resource, but I am willing to spend it.”

Tessia and Chul were only alive because of the other two pearls. My consciousness turned inward, feeling within my extradimensional space for the items stored there, including the last mourning pearl. Its value to me was incalculable. It could be my sister’s life, or my mother’s. If I’d had such power when my father lay on the battlefield, dying of his wounds… “It is not your resource to use, regardless.”

Kezess darkened. Even the beam of light suspending Agrona seemed to dim. “I command you to hand over the mourning pearl.”

I cocked my head slightly, not cowed by his theatrics. “I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that I am also lord of a great clan. Are the others so easily cowed by you? Surely the role of the Great Eight extends beyond the pretense of self-rulership to keep the other races in line.”

Myre quickly stepped in, unable to hide the flash of exasperation that crossed her features. “Please, Art. Take some time and consider it. I know what you’re thinking. That pearl could be used to save Sylvie, or Ellie, or Alice. But you are the head of your own clan now, and your decisions impact all asura. You can’t think only about yourself.

“Beyond simply justice, think about everything we could learn from Agrona, together. There is much about his actions in your world that we don’t understand, and may never if he isn’t revived. Let him answer for his crimes, for the good of all Epheotus, Dicathen, and Alacrya.”

I bit back a sigh. “I…will think about it.” Could Agrona himself somehow be the third life bound to me in obligation? I wondered, recalling Veruhn’s words.

She shot a quick glance at Kezess, who still looked like he was on the edge of an eruption. “Then that is all we can ask. We’ll return you to Ecclesia and your family. Once you’ve had time to consider, we will speak again.”

Kezess remained silent as we left the dungeon, which sealed over again behind us. Myre bid me farewell, and Kezess’s magic again wrapped around me. When I appeared standing in silver sand, I was alone.

I took in a lungful of the sea air, held it for several seconds, and slowly released it, trying to let the tension flow out with it.

The beach around me was empty. The purple horizon had expanded toward the village, the darkness extending farther up the sky as the sun went down. I kicked the sand, sending up a spray that shone like glitter in the dying rays of the sun. The conversation with Kezess had not turned out as expected, and the very real fear of being overheard had transformed into a more distant and bitter emotion.

Veruhn had asked me what I was doing here, in Epheotus. It was an astute question. There was much that needed doing back in Dicathen, and I knew Caera and Seris would have appreciated my presence and help in Alacrya as well. But none of them truly understood the danger. Nothing I could accomplish there would mean anything if Kezess decided to wipe our civilization from the face of the world. Integration, exoforms, or even aether would do little against an asuran death squad. No, if I was going to protect the people of my world while working toward Fate’s ultimate goal, I had to do it from Epheotus.

As these thoughts tumbled around inside my skull, I proceeded up the beach toward the city, where I’d appeared on the outskirts of. Bonfires glowed in the distance, and soon the empty beach was crowded with leviathans playing and eating. Though distracted by my own rumination, I felt my face break into a smile at the sight. These people seemed so carefree, so easygoing. They lived a simple life, at least when viewed from the outside.

None of them knew that their lives were bought with the blood of civilization after civilization in my world. I didn’t yet understand why, but I knew it was true. Neither did they realize that they’d built their home on the edge of a volcano, and the pressure of eruption built every passing day.

After slowly hiking along the beach for thirty minutes or more, I finally found a couple of familiar figures. I stopped as soon as I noticed them; they hadn’t seen me yet.

Several leviathan children were lined up in messy rows with their ankles intermittently in the water as it came and went. These children were older than those who had greeted us on our arrival to Ecclesia, appearing to be in their early teens, at least in comparison to humans. Ellie stood with them, her brown hair and fair skin making her stand out amongst the leviathans’ color. Zelyna, Veruhn’s daughter, stood facing them fifteen feet inland.

She was offering instruction, and I immediately expected it to be combat training. When she moved, though, it wasn’t to wield a weapon, form a combat spell, or even drill them in a martial arts form. The sand around ran like liquid before rising up and forming itself into the rough shape of a seashell. I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise of the ocean and the people relaxing beside it, but a pleasant smile came and went across her purple lips as she spoke, and her storm-blue eyes were crinkled at the edges with clear joy.

The students began to cast their own spells. They worked with wet sand, which would flow more easily, especially if they were more attuned to water than earth. Ellie watched the other students and stared at the ground in turns. She could have created anything she wanted out of pure mana, of course, but she was actively attempting to emulate the leviathans’ efforts instead. I watched her until Zelyna spotted me. After a quick word to the group, she strode my way.

As she approached, she seemed to appraise me. Her eyes sweeping up and down my form and lingering on my own golden eyes, so unlike any other human. Her fingers ran through the mohawk of sea-green hair that grew down the middle of her head beneath navy blue ridges.

“You cost me ten jade,” she said, her tone serious even though she appeared relaxed. “My father was confident you would return, but I bet him you were headed straight to the dungeons in Castle Indrath.”

I gave her a chagrined smile. “You were both right. I did go to the dungeons, but I have also returned from them.”

Her brows knit together. “I’ll have to ask for my jade back then.”

“Jade?” I asked, raising a brow.

She flourished her hand, and a round piece of jade, carved with a stylized drop of water with a hook on one side, was resting in her palm. “We rarely have need of currency, but when we choose to use it instead of simply bartering or offering aid, we use jade.” She flipped the jade piece toward me, and I caught it out of the air. “Keep it. As a souvenir.”

I chuckled and reversed the motion of her flourish, making the jade vanish into my dimensional storage rune. “Thanks.”

She gave me a lopsided smile. “Anyway, what did Old Man Dragon want with you?”

I chuckled at the irreverent moniker, but my amusement died away as my thoughts returned to the meeting. “He wants me to do something I’m not willing to do.”

“Such is the nature of your position,” she said with a shrug. I regarded her with surprise, and her lopsided smile returned. “Just talk to my father. Being lord of a great clan means navigating the choppy waters of Indrath’s unpleasant temper. He will attempt to force you to do things his way, and you will swim against the tide as best you’re able, trying to end up as close to your own goal as you can while still placating him.”

“That’s…what your father says?” I asked hesitantly.

She let out a barking laugh. “Sea and stars, no, of course not. The great Veruhn Eccleiah would never speak so bluntly. Surely you’ve noticed he enjoys taking the meander course of the river, not the straightforward flight of the gull.”

We both grinned at that. I hadn’t known Veruhn for long, but what she said was obviously true.

“Don’t agonize yourself into an early grave over it,” she said, again giving me a small shrug of her shoulders. “I’m confident you will be able to handle what’s to come.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and stared at the students practicing their spells for a long moment. Ellie hadn’t noticed me yet, so intently was she studying the leviathans’ magic.

“Why?” I asked after the pause.

“Back at the dragon woman’s returning ceremony.” My confusion must have shown on my face, because she clarified, saying, “I saw what you did. Placing Sylvia Indrath’s core on her altar in the castle. I was wary of you, and had sworn to keep my eyes on you. I…didn’t mean to intrude on the moment, but I’m glad I did.”

The look of appraisal returned. “You are powerful, Arthur Leywin, and you are intelligent. All your peers in Epheotus are also both of those things, some much more so than you. But…you are kind, too. And that is something often missing among the highest ranking of asuras, regardless of race.” She looked at me meaningfully. “That can be a strength, but it can also be a weakness. In you, though, I think it can be transformational. For the Great Eight, and for all of Epheotus.”

Before I could reply, one of the students shouted excitedly and yelled for Zelyna’s attention. Ellie looked over finally, saw me, brightened, and waved eagerly. Zelyna’s lopsided smile returned, and she began walking away without another word.

I watched her go, equal parts surprised and confused. Zelyna’s affirmation had been entirely unexpected, but her words about my transforming Epheotus were far more true than she could even know.