1

The sand in the hourglass on the table was spent. All the eyes in the room attentively followed the last grain slip through the glassy neck to the bottom. Half an hour had passed since the recovery team had set out.

“They ought to have reached far enough from the castle by now,” Miragrave said. “And are likely up to their ears in trouble, if not already dead.”

“I can still sense the Arc,” Carmelia told them. “They are alive.”

“It is time for the ‘diversion’ then, I suppose.”

Everyone turned their doubtful gazes at her majesty, unsure of what was going to happen, if anything. Perhaps Yuliana had made up the whole story about the Divine Lord only to win support for the plan and encourage the operators? But her majesty suggested no deception. She got up from her seat with a resolved look, trying to conceal her nervousness, and moved to the middle of the floor.

“Try not to be too surprised,” she told them. They gathered about her at a cautious distance to see what was to come. She knelt, closed her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest. Thinking about Izumi and Margitte in their plight and her desperate desire to help them, she read the incantation,

I beseech thee, Noon of the White Sun

Become my blade

Coat me in thy wings

Bring upon thy foes the purifying blaze

Lord of Light, the keeper of my soul

Thy vessel calls thee by thy hallowed name——Aesa Aiwesh

Such was the intensity of Yuliana’s will then that whether she wanted to or didn’t, Aiwesh had no choice but to come. An eruption of brilliant light and wind briefly staggered the audience, and as the glare died down, the winged spirit stood in front of the loose circle of astonished faces, a sour look on her fair features.

No more room was there left for agnostics.

Even if it shook one’s world view and faith to the core, they could only accept the vision as genuine. Her majesty had told the truth, after all. Divines and the mythology they starred was closer to daily life than any of them had previously presumed plausible. Nonetheless, it took a long while before the bystanders could find the words to greet such an apparition.

“Is there something on my ears?” Aiwesh commented their confounded stares without hiding her displeasure.

As one of the more composed party members, Carmelia took a step forward.

“I trust you are aware of the situation?”

“An altogether pointless question.”

“Will you co-operate?”

“Since you asked nicely,” the spirit said. “But I have a condition.”

“Which is?”

Aiwesh’s fiery gaze swept over the crew.

“I cannot do it on my own,” she told them. “I need one of you to come with me as a scapegoa—conductor. Who it will be, you must choose yourselves. The person must come willingly.”

The others exchanged confused glances.

One of them, to assist an Astral? Even kings and archmages would’ve hesitated to volunteer. What could they possibly have that she lacked? But thinking it no further, the Prince soon lifted his gaze, his mind made up.

“Then let me be the one.”

“No, not you.” Aiwesh rejected the man outright, picking her ear with a disinterested face, and sent him recoiling in dismay.

“I thought the point was for us to decide?” Miragrave commented with a scowl, quickly over any religious reverence, never having had such to start with. “If you’re going to be particular about it, then why not outright name the person?”

“Because that would be meddling, bumblebee,” Aiwesh answered. “But there is no need to make this overly complicated; the one I speak of already knows who he is.”

The choice of a pronoun limited the candidates.

There were five men in the room, and one of them was already ruled out. Shortly, before Waramoti, Arnwahl, or General Monterey could move a muscle, it was Court Wizard Laukan who came forward, a look of wholehearted peace on his aged face.

“It must be me then,” he calmly spoke. “I strongly feel this is right.”

The spirit nodded with approval.

The mage went to stand before the Lord.

“What must I do?” he asked.

“Whatever you do, do not touch the wings,” the spirit said. “They are ticklish.”

Providing no more detailed instructions, the Divine of Light reached forward and put her hand on the Court Wizard’s shoulder. In the next instant, the two of them were already gone, vanished in a swirl of starry, glittering particles, which shortly faded from view. The others had yet to fully decide what to think of this paranormal development, when the it was already over and an uncomfortable silence returned.

The die was cast.

“…I certainly hope we made the right call,” Miragrave grunted, and looked at Carmelia. The cirelo stood quiet, eyes closed and ever serene, but unable to offer a single word of assurance to her companions.

2

A small, rough plaza lay besieged by a handful of less classy apartment buildings, a steep cliff between it and the lower southern side of the district. On the border of the crudely cobbled clearing, above the cliffs, rose a hefty, rectangular tower of gray brick, attached to a small lodge with a slanted roof. High above, the belfry peered over the southern landscape like a lighthouse on dry land, an open-sided steeple with a copper-plated roofing.

“Is that it?” Izumi asked, looking up along the weather-worn wall.

“I think so,” Margitte replied. “It matches the description and there are no other similar buildings in the area.”

“No rest for the wicked then. Let’s hope the key item’s not too well hidden. I’ve had my share of puzzles for a lifetime.”

The two approached the narrow oak door atop of a short but cumbersome flight of stairs. The size of the entrance posed a small technical problem. The barrier’s boundary adjusted itself only vertically, not horizontally. In short, they weren’t going to fit through without deactivating their sole defense and leaving themselves vulnerable to ambush while searching for the component. But Izumi had already thought about it.

“Can you open up for a bit and let me out?” she requested. “I’ll search the house on my own. Keep the door for me and watch my back, okay?”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” Margitte exclaimed. “I can’t help you if you leave the boundary! There may be who knows how many more of those things still nearby! I can’t sense them while the barrier is on, or use any other spells.”

“Not much choice,” Izumi said. “Never put all the eggs in one basket, So-chan. Don’t know about you, but I can’t see a thing inside this disco ball. We’d have to turn it off anyway, if we want to actually find the thing. And if there’s no getting around the danger, then it’s better I take care of it alone. I’ll try to make it quick, so don’t wander off in the meantime, okay?”

“Fine! Do whatever you want!”

Margitte opened a gap in the barrier, allowing Izumi to get outside. Izumi got up on the stairs before the bell tower door and turned slowly around, listening. Most of the daemons had to have gone to where the light of Aiwesh continued to shine, but a vague, dangerous tension still hovered above all of the city. No place was safe, but nothing moved in the vicinity.

She drew her sword, stabbed the tip of the blade through the seam between the door and the frame and wrenched the way open with a forceful twist. A moldy crash rang out and door fell apart. She peered into the dark beyond but spied no sinister movement.

She glanced back. Margitte stood at the foot of the stairs in her glowing bubble and nodded.

“Don’t go anywhere,” Izumi repeated and went in.

There was a little vestibule, more like the entryway to a shabby countryside shack than any dignified building, religious or military. The floor boards made awfully lot of noise at each step; sneaking around was a waste of effort.

Izumi strode in and soon discovered there weren’t too many places to look. A short corridor took her to the interior of the tower itself and it was mostly empty, without multiple floors or compartments. Only bare rock floors and walls all the way to the top, with a rudimentary wooden framework to support the building that centuries of weather had worn brittle. A primitive staircase went up to the belfry, assembled of naked, unpainted logs and boards, appended here and there with newer reinforcements and metal bolts. It went around a pillar-like structure in the middle of similarly sketchy looks. That construct was likely what held up the bells themselves, as well as the controls to ring them.

The first floor looked clear of foreign objects.

There was a small drawer, empty, random kegs, worn rope, miscellaneous boxes, a shovel—no ancient elven ship components. No enemies either. Stillness and silence filled the building. There was nothing.

Izumi went to climb up the stairs. The boards squealed and groaned like souls on the far side of the Acheron and echoed upward along the walls. No element of surprise. No room to maneuver with a large sword. It was not a nice place to be. She felt restless and unwilling to go on. Maybe leaving Margitte behind hadn’t been a good idea.

Why was the component in such a place? A treasure awaiting at the summit of a tower—a classic video game setup. A bad joke. She thought about Tarot cards and the Tower. The tower where their ambitions would come crashing down. Upheaval. Chaos. Fear of change. She tried to stop thinking and kept going. The higher she went, the stronger the bad feeling grew. On the highest landing before the bells, she put her sword away, crouched, and carved Brandt here and there on the floor and railing with her utility knife, and then went on.

A cool air caressed Izumi’s face at the top of the stairs.

A nightly wind blew straight through the open steeple, sharp and sobering. The floor extended a few feet outside the walls, with a waist-high castellation going all the way around the top, a reminder of the building’s practical past. Beyond spread the city, basking in the steady, pure shine of the solitary star in the north. Like a flare, it overpowered the feeble twinkle of the firmament, and left the rest of the sky utterly black and void.

Izumi looked forward.

A silvery cylinder no larger than a can of soda rested on the flat top of the parapet, gleaming in the Divine’s light. It looked brand new, polished and smooth, untouched by the passage of time, and faint blue lines went along the sides. Even if Carmelia hadn’t shown her an image of the regulator before, it was easy to identify. And six feet northward on the parapet sat Riswelze.

The assassin gazed up to the black sky with a nostalgic look, lazily kicking her legs above the heights.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she said to Izumi. “Makes you realize how small you are. Nothing you do seems to matter. That light was there long before any of us came to be, and it’ll still be there when we are no more. Right now, it feels like we could go on forever, as if we are stars too. But it’s over before you know it. It happens so fast! Everything dies and nothing can bring back the time you had.”

Izumi bit her lip and said nothing. Talking to a monster was nothing but a waste of time. It wasn’t looking at her. Only a few steps to the component. Doing her best to calm her heavily beating heart, she silenced her mind, and walked on and picked up the metal cylinder in her hands.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Say, do you ever think about me?” Riswelze continued to chat with a smile. “You’re always on my mind, you know? I can’t bring myself forget about it, what could’ve been. What we might’ve had together. Do you ever fantasize about it when you’re all alone? Or is it just me?”

Inhale.

Exhale.

Izumi gripped the metal, and left to slowly return to the stairs. She kept the daemon in her peripheral vision, tense as a bowstring and ready. It kept sitting and did nothing. She got to the top of the staircase and turned to hurry down.

——“Listen to me when I’m talking to you!”

“Hi…!” Izumi couldn’t keep a gasp from escaping her and froze mid-step.

The voice came from right behind her, bare inches away. The creature had switched position much faster than she had imagined. It was too late to do anything. The instant she would try to name the runes and turn, it would gouge her heart out, or simply brush her head off the shoulders.

“…”

Not turning, not looking back, Izumi continued down the stairs.

She heard the wood cry behind her. The daemon came after her. Getting no reaction, it was unsure of what to do. Waited. Observed. The confusion wouldn’t last long. One mistake and she would be done for. Descending too fast would be interpreted as escaping, and she would die. Going too slowly would be interpreted as resisting, and she would die. Making any effort to attack or defend, and she would die. So she did nothing at all, kept her mind empty, and moved her legs. One step at a time, she went down. One step at a time, as if setting her foot on those boards was the whole meaning of her life. Until they reached down to the topmost landing on the south side. A few steps through, Izumi parted her lips and whispered,

“Brandt.”

The carved letters around them flashed briefly, and a blink of an eye later, the wood burst into bright fire. Surrounded by the rising flames, Riswelze let out a shriek and reflexively covered her face with her hands.

“Sifl!” Izumi spat, dropped the component, and spun around on her heels. She drew her sword and cut down with the both hands, and cleaved the face of the assassin girl clean in the middle from the crown of the head to the bottom of the jaw. With a faint gasp, the daemon broke apart into charcoal dust. Izumi turned, caught the regulator before it could hit the floor, and went scurrying down the stairs. Whether the fire would take the building, or fail in the cold, she didn’t stay to see. All that filled her mind was how bad she wanted out of there and out of that terrible city.

Izumi reached down to the ground floor and hurried towards the exit.

“So-chan?” she called, but there came no answer. She ran through the corridor and the entry room, barged out to the doorstep and gazed around. The glowing barrier was nowhere to be seen.

No, there she was.

Margitte stood in the middle of the plaza up ahead and gazed at the Divine light in the sky. She had deactivated the Fairy Sphere, but there were no enemies around. She had the cloak embroidered with the astronomical patterns on her. Why had she left her post at the door? Even if she had a valid reason and was free to do as she saw fit, she should've taken a moment to consider other people’s feelings too! It had to have been the meanest of all the things the mage had ever said and done.

Izumi hissed an exasperated sigh and jumped down the stairs.

“So-chan!” she called the girl in anger and ran over to her. “I told you not to wander off on your own—”

As she was about to reach out and take the girl’s shoulder, a huge bang hit her ears. An intense gust of air brushed past Izumi and she drew away by reflex. A round boulder launched at thirty yards per second shot by and struck the young Court Wizard in the back between the shoulders. The large rock punched straight through the girl’s slender figure and broke it apart in a burst of ashen dust. Barely slowed by the impact, the out of nowhere meteor continued its flight to the other end of the plaza.

Stunned, Izumi watched Margitte’s remains fade to nothing and turned around to see where the projectile had come from. At the corner of the bell tower stood another Margitte, holding up her hand and heavily panting. The girl stared back at the woman with eyes full of shock, remorse, and shame.

“So-chan...?”

“I had to step behind the corner,” the girl whispered. “I’m sorry. I had to.”

3

They’d made it to the destination and recovered the missing component, but it was only half the job. The long hike back home awaited and they got to it without delay. Margitte conjured the barrier sphere again and they retraced their own footsteps under the magical umbrella. Through the desolate lane, towards the castle.

They went in silence, focused only on progress. There was lag in the barrier’s update rate and if they went too fast, it began to flicker. They had to take their time, but before long, the shielding flickered even at normal walking speed, and the disruptions grew steadily more frequent.

As they reached the slope with the colorful little cabins, Margitte herself began to stumble and had trouble going in a straight line. Izumi thought her partner’s condition was not normal anymore.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” she stopped and asked.

“It’s nothing,” Margitte insisted, but her voice lacked its usual zeal. She sniffed and wiped her nose, and tried to act nonchalant. But Izumi saw the girl’s pale hand and lip had become stained.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me!” she exclaimed. “Your nose is bleeding!”

“I’ve exceeded my mana capacity, nothing worse than that,” the mage said. “I’ll be fine. Just a bit further…”

“I thought you said it was a lightweight barrier?”

“I said it’s ‘efficient for a barrier of its type’. But that doesn’t mean it’s entirely effortless to sustain. Stop fussing about it and keep moving.”

Izumi looked around. “Turn it off. We’ll have to manage to rest of the way without.”

“Out of the question,” Margitte replied. “If we’re ambushed this close and lose the part...”

“I’ll do something about it! Hurry up and turn it off, or you’ll be dead before we see any monsters.”

Margitte begrudgingly deactivated the barrier. They walked on in the dark, up the slope with the frozen streams of mud. But stopping the casting didn’t improve the girl’s condition by much and she stumbled the whole way. On top of the road, she stopped to lean on her knees, looking dizzy and short of breath.

“Just a small break...Then we go on.”

“Geez...” Izumi sighed heavy. “What are you trying to prove? A kid like you shouldn’t act so tough.”

“Mind your own business,” Margitte said and tried to go on, but her legs gave away and she fell. Izumi jumped forward, caught the mage in her arms, picked her up, and went on.

“Let me go,” Margitte tried to protest, but was too exhausted to exert much strength and could only accept her awkward position. “You don’t need to do this…”

“Yes, yes. Now’s not the time to break limits. I’m afraid the adventure’s not over just yet. So save your strength until you really, really need it.”

“You’re such a...such a fool.”

Margitte rested her head against Izumi’s shoulder and hardly a heartbeat after she was already asleep. Just how tired was she, having slept nary a wink all week? Calling herself a wizard and a human weapon and whatnot, despite being only a child without a single friend of her own age.

“Who’s the fool?” Izumi mumbled by herself. “You weigh nothing too...”

She followed the path on and came to the wall street.

Despite her assurances that she would manage whatever came up, Izumi was better than aware that there was nothing she could actually do if they were attacked now. Not without abandoning the magician. Delivering the ship part was her priority, the only way to save the rest of them. Logic said she would have to sacrifice anything and everything to keep it safe. But feeling Margitte’s weight on her arms, the girl's heat on her chest, the idea fell out of consideration. If it came to that, she would die with her.

“Guess I should be thankful I got paired with the loli. I wouldn’t princess-carry any of the adults this easily.”

She walked, resigned to fate. Her gaze swept idly past the empty yards and dark windows and the deep shadows cast across the city wall by the light of Aiwesh. She came to the bridge head unhindered and looked ahead at the castle walls. The battlements and the gatehouse had gone dark, the torches and braziers extinguished.

Izumi crossed the moat and approached the gate. It was left partially open, as promised. The way was clear, for her and the enemy alike. The countdown to the end had begun. She went across the black-burned drawbridge, under the fangs of the withdrawn portcullis, through the shadowy barbican and to the gate, and passed under the vaulting to the courtyard.

The bonfire was in its death throes. The coals glowed yet faintly, giving off pale smoke, which the southern wind picked up and carried away. No one could be seen. As per the plan, the troops had abandoned the wall and withdrawn inside the more easily defended main building. Izumi stopped briefly at the bonfire to warm her numb hands against the hot ashes. She wiped Margitte’s face clean with a napkin. The nosebleed had stopped. She gently picked the girl up again and went inside.

She walked through the dark length of the entrance hall, up the vast stairway, and took a shortcut through the throne room. Beyond awaited the safe zone in the central hallway. They had made plans to regroup in the conference hall upstairs before starting the evacuation.

As she strode across the red carpet on the floor of the king’s hall, Izumi took a look at the marble throne in the back.

Upon it sat a tall man dressed in white-gold robes, like a bishop of Rome. The man’s head was shaved bald, but his beard flowed down long and wide, almost white, and upon his thick brow was a tall, jagged crown. His deep-sunken eyes were light blue and gleamed with a wrathful light. Their gaze was fixed at Yuliana, who knelt a short distance away before the marble seat.

“Please, father—!” she pleaded with a desperate face. “You have to listen to me!”

“Silence!” the old king commanded. “You are no daughter of mine, you harlot of the Empire! I’ll heed not another word that comes out of your treacherous mouth! What was the reward of your betrayal? What did they promise you for the land of your ancestors? Was mortal greed your undoing, or was it your sinful flesh? Which broke first, your spirit or your body? Oh, I knew I should have wrung your neck the moment you came out of your mother and had the inferiority of your sex confirmed! I should have had you drowned in the bottom of the Stykes as my forefathers would do to their daughters! A snake that knows only how to corrupt and betray—that is what you are, all you can ever be! From the cradle, from your first cry, you knew how to turn the weakness of a man’s heart against him! So was even I deceived! For so many years, I believed you could be more than your sex! Oh, how dreadfully close I was to letting you have this seat! Machilon’s seat! Only here, so close to my final nightfall, I redeem myself and do what I ought to have done years ago! For opening my eyes today, I thank you! When you ran off that night and sold yourself to my enemies, I finally saw you for the irredeemable wretch that you are!”

“Father, that’s not true!” Yuliana appealed with all of her heart. “You have it all wrong! I never betrayed you! Never! I left to save our home! I only ever thought what was best for you and mother! Even now, I am here to protect the lives of our people!”

“I told you to be silent!” the king rose from his seat and boomed with a manic zeal. “Your lies and silvery tongue have no more power over me! Nevermore! I have been illuminated by the grace of our Lord! You should never have shown yourself before me again! Your masters were fools to think they could use you to drag me down without a fight! Oh, I'll give them the fight they desire! And I’ll have you cut open and stuffed with the coin of your betrayal, and come tomorrow, you will burn! By the name of our Lord, you will burn before the people you betrayed, so that all may see the fruit of treason! No one is above the Law; not even my own flesh and blood! This I swear, the Aesa as my witness! Take her away!”

“No, father! Please...!”

The images of the King and the wailing Princess crumbled to black dust and faded away. Izumi crouched and reached for her sword, but sensed nothing more. The throne room had gone quiet.

Was that how their quest was originally supposed to end?

Or only another empty taunt?

Throwing the vision off her mind, she got up, held Margitte tighter, and continued on through the hall, successful, but feeling not one bit accomplished.

So much closer was safety now than in the morning—but alas, still far away.

4

The heroes were reunited with their allies upstairs, and while Izumi played it cool, the others were bursting with joy at their safe return. Certainly, what they had achieved could be rightfully considered a miracle. Even the army officers were able to smile a little at the deed.

Carmelia restored Margitte’s consciousness and assured them the girl would be fine with a bit of rest. Margitte herself was more than surprised to find herself still alive and back in friendly territory, but after a hot drink and a bit of food, she took the wonder already for granted.

The best effect of all was carried by Izumi’s triumphant report. She handed over the wanted component, and whatever damage her public image had suffered over the week was rightfully mended at once.

Relief was on everyone’s face.

We can get out. The nightmare will soon end.

“How will we get the word to the other two?” General Monterey then asked.

“I doubt we need to worry about that,” Izumi remarked.

True enough, barely had she finished speaking when a bright flash of light, like a soundless bolt of lightning, cut into the room through the windows, and caused everyone to reflexively wince and retreat.

The light dimmed and the dazzling figure of the Lord of Light posed in their midst again in her white robes, looking unusually content with herself and sparkling. The spirit’s role in the mission appeared to have been a resounding success as well. But after they recovered from the awe following the Divine's extravagant entrance, the audience took notice of a certain alarming detail.

“Where’s Master Laukan?” Millanueve asked.

Everyone looked around the room, as if expecting the aged Court Wizard to suddenly tumble out of nothing. He wouldn’t.

A wide, beaming smile on her face, Aiwesh announced,

“I dropped him!”

The news was received with a mortified pause.

“You did what?” the Marshal then exclaimed.

“We were quite high up when I let go,” the spirit continued to explain, as if describing a sunny Sunday picnic. “I doubt he lived the fall. Even if he somehow did, the daemons have surely made short work of him by now. And no, I did not bring back any ears or scalps for proof, so you are only going to have to take my word for it.”

“But...Why?” the Prince uttered in dismay.

The audience stood at a loss for words, unable to understand.

All of a sudden, the Divine’s smile faded and her countenance turned wrathful and terrible.

“This is penalty!” she declared, her eyes angrily flashing. “Never depend on a power greater than yourselves, foolish mortals!”

Saying nothing more, the Lord of Light vanished in an explosion of glittering feathers. The illusory rain of plumes shortly melted in the air, revealing the figure of the Empress underneath.

Yuliana fixed her balance with a short side step, blinking and dizzy. She then aimed her expectant eyes at the circle of familiar faces and inquired with a hopeful smile,

“Well? Did it work?”