Novels2Search
An Age of Mysterious Memories
B 6 C 216: Ten To Tenith

B 6 C 216: Ten To Tenith

I’m sort of tempted to watch Miraina’s awkward attempts at flirting with Ixeyla, in an attempt to be a supportive wingperson. But since both of them can hear my brain, it’d probably not be all that helpful. They’re both adults, they can handle figuring out their own relationships. I sigh wistfully, my heart filling with joy at the idea of new love springing forth and blossoming, despite all the challenges we’re facing.

Speaking of My Heart, I wonder where Lil is. Also, speaking of being filled with love, I wonder where Teuila is. I’ll go touch base with them through the security center. Let’s see, it’s closing in on ten PM. Who’s going to be on watch at the security center? When my thermal senses indicate two women, Draconiacs, lip-to-lip in the security center, I fight my incredulous smile and head-shake. That’d be Burshis and Nietru, the evenings pair. I think Aaront and Geskae fill in for gaps between any of the other pairs.

Approaching the security center, I fake several coughs on the way in to announce my presence, so that I don’t catch the pair unawares. I can sense them smoothing out their blouses and skirts as I round the corner, and it takes a ton of willpower to bite down on my smile to keep from smirking. If I hadn’t been so obvious with my entry, I’d have levitated in here silently surfing on my telekinesis, and walked right into the pair’s little makeout session.

Anyway, as I’m about to greet them, Nietru rushes my way, and pulls out several parchment rolls before announcing, “Schism, Spymaster has communique for you. It’s good to see you well after the scare you put us all through! Honestly, intentionally drawing the attention of Terrorzin’s entire horde, alone. No one as reckless as you, save perhaps our Tenith, would make it home after such tomfoolery. And changing the geography of Vieriss via Wistenzlia! The audacity, and sheer scale of your efforts! Erm, that is to say, welcome home.”

Pft. I snort a laugh so hard that it rolls along my nasal passages, painfully. Ow, ouch, my sinuses. Chuckling, I respond, “Hi to you too, the both of you. Can you update me on Lucky, Shiz, Lil, the Spellknights, and Teuila?”

After a short grimace, and an exchanged look between the two, my heart starts to race in worry. Thankfully Burshis quickly explains, “Tenith was antsy after defending against the siege for most of the day, said she owed a favor to, um, was it Youey-tooey, or Yooti-tooti as she called Radiant Spellknight Ahliyui. At least, I believe that’s who she was referring to. Our Tenith is, um, let’s say, colorful with names and references. I believe she was experimenting with her Latent, and discovered another use for it, though I’m not certain exactly what.”

Huh. I wonder if Te’s tracking down Yuri’s gear. That’d explain the indescribable blur coming from her goggles, if she’s speeding around, either to, or from, whatever location might host Ahliyuri’s missing equipment. Erk, speaking of Yuri, Yui asked me to make sure he stayed in bed, and I wasn’t here for most of the day. Anyway, if she found another application of her Latent, her control and mastery over it must be growing.

I’ll make sure she knows how proud of her I am when she gets back. Knowing her, it’ll probably take her like ten minutes or something to return. She’s redonkulously fast. Yes, redonkulous. Beyond ridiculous. I catch Burshis and Nietru stifling titters at my mental monologue, so I flash them both a wicked grin. The pair blush and avert their gazes, but I just have a slight chuckle of my own. I don’t mind people laughing at my brain’s trains of thought.

While Nietru fishes out the correct communique for me, Burshis continues, “As for the others, Lucky was seen intercepting blows intended for some of the Spellknights. He doesn’t seem too the worse for wear, but I’d certainly like to see his wounds tended to when he returns. As for Sun, hrm, what’s the best way to put this? I believe he’s unintentionally started a cult.”

If I had a drink I’d be doing a spit-take as I snort with laughter. I can just imagine it. Lil showing off his near-limitless breath weapon to cow some enemy forces, and either our Spellknights, or Shiz being impressed enough that even our foes stop to admire it, becoming impressed themselves. When he gets back, he’s going to burst in here going, “Reggie, Rej, pal, guess what! I’ve got my own little army!” or something.

I’m almost certain I’ll have Shiz to thank for whatever chicanery happened while they were out together. He likes to talk up the Order, or at least its members, now that he’s part of it. It’s too bad foes out this far aren’t going to be elite Spellknights, archmages, or anything. A platoon of those following Lil around might be a large enough asset to plan battles around. As is, whomever he’s converted would probably be best served simply defending the halls of Solace against infiltration by said archmages and elite Spellknights.

If a few powerful foes could magically tunnel, or teleport into Solace, it could be disastrous if all our forces are deployed either externally, or at its entrances. Pawn’s courageous, and a bit powerful, but I’d dread her facing down one or more archmages or Spellknights on par with Yui and Yuri, or worse, Zelshiz or Vorzhog. Having a few squads of infantry roaming our tunnels, if I could count on their loyalty, or fanatical devotion to Lil, would help set my mind at ease for Pawn’s sake.

Hm, speaking of defense of Solace, I want the option to evacuate on the table as soon as possible. Right now? We’re essentially trapped in a valley that has two paths, a wide one that wraps around mostly directly south, the way Teuila and I came in, and Vieriss, the path Terrorzin’s troops are coming from. If he has a segment of his forces swinging around south, or simply blasts through my blockade in under a day, any refugees we try to relocate would be massacred.

The ‘Twixt is our only option to safely relocate all the innocent civilians, and injured Order members, or prisoners. I heave a deep sigh as my hand finds my brow. My muscles droop wearily, as I try to picture what strange setup might be required in order to transport people across the ‘Twixt, into it or through it. One person at a time? Into the little catacombs dug under Jeegoobotstan? It’s going to be rough, no matter what. Plus, what if the Aasimovian refugees, kobolds, and hares need to be evacuated too? Then everyone in the world needs to get to the Hidden at the Heart of the Wilds, the Fae’s Wilds.

Sooner rather than later, I’m going to have to either meet the archfae and ask their permission, or see if the Enochian Enclave can somehow house thousands of people. I want it as a last resort, but there are three apocalypses breathing down our necks. It’s ludicrous to think we don’t need any sort of backup plans and last resort options. Hell, at this point, it’s ludicrous to think we’ll succeed at even stopping the Terrorzin-induced apocalypse.

Gritting my teeth, I furrow my brow, upset at myself for my thought train of self-doubt. We can literally change the face of Rayileklia. We’ve got this. We have to. Right? If we’re still in the prime timeline, we make it work, somehow, right? There’s so much more we have to do, and more mysteries to uncover. The Sisters said I walk the prime timeline, didn’t they? They also hinted that all timelines come to an abrupt end, soon. What the hell could be so catastrophic, that there are absolutely no hopes of—the Beast of the End?

What was it that Al’pa’ca said? Something about, if he finishes awakening to his true power through mastery over the storm, Terrorzin won’t even need the Beast of the End. I couldn’t make much sense of it in the heat of battle. Does Terrorzin have some creation so powerful, so unbeatable, that it truly is hopeless? A literal world-ending threat? I know he’s experimented with necromancy, conjuration, and chimaeric combinations of creatures, but none of those were truly unbeatable to my knowledge. Some would be pretty horrendous when paired together on a battlefield, but the undeath-related ones have a pretty exploitable weakness.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

It can’t be that, right? Can it? While I’m mulling it over, I notice the shocked expressions, the gasps frozen on the faces of Nietru and Burshis. I also make note of the parchment spilled all over the floor beneath where Nietru clutches empty air. Blinking rapidly, I rattle my skull, making sure I’m parsing the situation. Did the pair react to my thought train?

Soothingly, calmly, I query, “Nietru? Burshis? Are you okay? You seem spooked.”

To their credit, the pair recover from their panicked stupor swiftly, and they share a glance before exchanging, “A single beast capable of ending the world? Could it be one of those old myths Burshee?”

Her response is, “Nee, I daren’t think it. That snake Yisstendahl and his son, hiding missives from afraid not that rave about those old things was bad enough.”

Or maybe she said A Frayed Knot? Wait. That iconography. The rope binding a withered tree, all knotted, one section of the rope so weathered, frayed, and torn, that only the slimmest thread yet keeps it together. Now I really want to question Yisstendahl’s son. Fricklefrack. Knowing my luck, he’ll have fled sometime between when he aided us in saving Prinrin, and now.

Cluing me in, Nietru nods as she states, “Curator was finishing up with sorting Yisstendahl’s hoard, and found hidden missives. She brought them to our attention earlier today. They carried a seal with the icon you pictured just now. A tree, weathered, weary, withered, falling apart, only still standing due to a knotted cord, and even the cord, one knot frayed to a last thread.”

My pulse quickens, and my breathing picks up its pace. This can’t be a coincidence at this point. I request clarification, “Could either of you tell me what myths or legends these missives referred to? How much do you know about them?”

Donning a pair of spectacles, Nietru fishes about on the floor, sorting through the fallen parchment. After a time, she stands, and scans one of the smaller sheets. When she gathers her courage, Nietru announces, “It’s about as one might expect, from our conversation. Clues as to Yisstendahl’s obvious loyalty to Terrorzin, bought in some ages past, possibly through his son.”

My blood boils, realizing why Yisstendahl and his son might be loyal to Terrorzin, his permanent threat of death and conscription, especially to families and descendants. The fact that they were allowed to stay together was probably their reward for loyalty. This entire time, we’ve had another snake under our nose working for Terrorzin. How many more have slipped through into Solace? How vulnerable are we really from within? Kinzul, her trusting, merciful nature is coming back to haunt her, us, now. I knew it was too good to be true to think that everyone within Solace was dedicated to Kinzul’s idea of peace and prosperity.

I know Kinzul isn’t naive. She’s hopeful. Despite the centuries of hurt she’s endured, she remains hopeful, in spite of evidence to the contrary, that anyone might come to their senses and join the side that opposes tyranny. My love, my wife, surely you have plans in place for things like this. You can’t have been relying on strangers to show up in order to end the snake Yisstendahl, and other hidden threats. Could you? Perhaps, if relying on Aymestu and Dimitriv, she might have thought her security and foreknowledge indisputable and foolproof.

The downcast gazes of the two in my company are enough evidence that the whole of me sags inwardly, wearily. I motion, and Nietru continues, “Right, it’s encoded, obviously, but Curator and I are quite positive we’ve decoded it correctly. It refers to a gift being en-route to Terrorzin, a last piece of a puzzle. That puzzle seems to have been how to grant a terrible wish, one that calls into being a creature that does not, and can not exist, a walking calamity, unstoppable, nameless, unconquerable, invincible, an unmitigated traveling catastrophe. It’s a reference to fairy tales, ghost stories, horror epics, not a real threat. And yet…”

Her words hang on the air. “And yet,” indeed. An invincible, unstoppable horror, that Terrorzin has the ability to call into being, or summon somehow? Something powerful enough to wipe the face of Rayileklia clean? Is it too late? Has he already summoned it? Is that why the Sisters' view of the timelines fail to have a future? The thing begins its rampage soon? I can’t believe that. I refuse to believe it. Nothing is completely impervious. Hell, I mean, I could probably nullify it, void it out somehow, right?

That prophetic vision I keep having seems pertinent. But I only have it when I think about Teuila, and her seemingly limitless potential—I get a head rush as the vision flashes through my mind yet again. One tiny twinkling ray of hope amidst the endless, the non. I’m certain that one or more prophecies are going to have turned out to be true twice, or even thrice over. The mate of the wielder of the four being destined to end the eldest evil in the lands sounds about right.

Speaking of mates, I hadn’t been paying attention to Teuila’s position on the security mirrors, but she could obviously tell my location through her own goggles. I’m nearly bowled over as I’m tackled from behind by My-beloved-Wings. I do go crashing into Nietru and Burshis, and end up having to catch us all in my telekinetic grips. There’s a hasty round of apologies and blushing from each of us.

Grumbling, Te pokes me roughly in the chest, “What the heck were you doing Airhead!? That was crazy earlier today! That was like, ten whole fortresses worth of baddies! Maybe more, I dunno, didn’t get a good look through your goggles. Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere? Did you talk to Lu, or Aunty Zool yet?”

Putting up my hands, palms forward placatingly, I try to reassure Teuila, “I’m okay, I’m okay. I got to talk to Lu for a little bit, but she passed out on me, snoozed, and ended up with a faceful of her own drool, so she wandered off to bed. I haven’t seen Kinzul yet. I… I think I messed up Te. Not with the whole mountain explosion and valley thing, but Kinzul ordered me to go off on a secret mission that might take a week or more, when Terrorzin’s army is a week from our doorstep, and I refused. She seemed so hurt, so lost, and apparently she left somewhere for private time afterwards.”

Blinking rapidly, Teuila scratches at her ears, pretending to need to check if she heard me right before commenting, “Well look who’s a big bad rebel all of a sudden. I mean, I get it, that’s bad timing. Aunty Zool really got that upset? Dang. That’s no good. I’m sorry Air. Are you going to go do her secret mission after all? I can’t imagine having the big showdown without you here.”

I pass a breath through puffed cheeks and pursed lips. Me either Te, me either. What sort of asset, clues, mysteries, or alliance is Kinzul hoping for from this, that takes me specifically, for a week or more? She didn’t even try to plead her case with specifics. My heart hammers, pained with sorrow for having disappointed or hurt Kinzul. I clench my eyes shut, gritting my teeth as I fight back tears. I want to make it right by her, as soon as possible.

Not intending to ignore Nietru and Burshis, or leave them out, I return to our conversation, “You two, do you know anything else about this supposed Beast of the End? Or Yisstendahl’s son’s whereabouts? I want to question him about it if he hasn’t fled Solace. Te, that symbol, or icon, keeps popping up, the withered tree and frayed rope barely holding it together. I think it has something to do with some sort of endbringer cult within Terrorzin’s elites.”

Whistling a low note appreciatively, Teuila nods and mulls over my comment. I can tell she’s thinking back to our adventure to take down Al’pa’ca. Perhaps she’ll recall a clue I missed, or something. Nietru and Burshis shake their heads in answer to my questions though. Dang. I guess I’ve got some sleuthing to do, on top of all the other things I need to accomplish. I wish I could pass off a bunch of them, like ten or so to Teuila, but even if I could, that’d be unfair to her. She’s accomplishing plenty on her own.

Cheerfully wearing her mile-wide closed-eyed smile, loosing a Shellcracker Family Squee, Teuila comments, “Darn right I am! I’m mastering the heck out of my Latent,” she mumbles under her breath, “gonna show Illy what-for real soon,” before continuing, “I feel better and stronger than ever, like I broke through something holding me back, and now I’m growing. Maybe it’s from my Honor thingy? My Honoris Causa? My Dragonforce feels full, and like it’s just getting bigger and bigger.”

Gazing at Teuila wistfully, lovingly, I take a moment to assess the energies flowing from her. She’s right, ten points to Te, her Dragonforce is virtually bursting at the seams. Tendrils of light flow around her in angelic, ethereal waves. I guess now’s a good a time as any to ask if she knows about their effects.

Raising a brow, I query, “Te, did you realize your Honoris Causa is causing your Latent to attract injuries to you, from everyone you’re near? And, your Dragonforce is working overtime to heal you, to keep those injuries from overwhelming you. I think it’s like a muscle that you used enough to break through a plateau now, so your gains are going to be rapid until your next plateau, or peak.”

Te blinks several times, before intentionally manifesting her full Honoris Causa in its intangible form. The lithe, lucent dragon form of Teuila takes up the entire security center. Nietru, Burshis, Te and I stand at the heart of it, and it radiates a warmth like I’ve never felt before. Teuila grins wildly, smugly, and strikes a pose, flexing her muscles, bringing humor to an otherwise reflective, informative moment. I can’t help snirking, smirking while snorting a half laugh, and rolling my eyes. I love this goof.