Lord Lumière had to avert his eyes from Soleil, the light too bright for him to look directly upon.
Fernan had no such problem, locking eyes with the sun spirit’s inhumanly beautiful form. Easily ten feet tall, the tips of his feet just barely touched the ground as he floated above the fire that had been prepared in offering to him.
Soleil’s eyes, in turn, stared straight back through him, his face flat and crisp, not a trace of stubble or blemish in his golden visage. “Characteristically sloppy, human.” His lips didn’t move; indeed, the sound didn’t even seem to be coming from his mouth, rather drifting down from the sky. “Your offering should already be lit, and blazing bright and strong when I arrive. Even my patience has its limits, worm.”
“I’m sorry?” Fernan blinked, only to be pushed aside by Lumière.
“He’s talking to me, Fernan. It isn’t often that anyone beholds Soleil in this form save his High Priest. If they do, they don’t tend to live long enough for it to matter.” Lumière shielded his eyes with his hand, turning to face his patron spirit. “Fernan is a sage of flame, Great Spirit Soleil, his patron a lesser creature within your domain.”
“Tis you who are the lesser creature, fool. Perhaps it is too much to hope that you might live up to the sages on my isle, but still your uselessness transcends new bounds each time I make the long descent to earth. You seem very determined to make me regret the compact that I made with you.”
“My ancestor made his pact with you, Great Spirit, hundreds of years ago. I am Aurelian, his descendant.” If the sage were irritated, he didn’t show it in his body language, even as the light within him dimmed.
Again, the spirit’s face didn’t move, but down from the heavens echoed the impression of a weary sigh. “Ah yes, I do remember now your plan. Eager to curry favor in your fight, some petty human show of dominance, you did forsake your last patron in full, and changed your name to match my brilliant light. No matter how infallible I am, I should have known better than to dispense my power to a useless lout like you.”
This time, Lord Lumière couldn’t help but clench his hands into fists, sending lines of red up his arm. “Guy Bourbeau took on the name of Lucius Lumière to better serve you, Great Spirit, and spread your brilliance. And he died three hundred years ago.” He took a deep breath. “I am Lord Aurelian Lumière, his descendant.”
The impression of a frown traced across the spirit’s face, although his brow did not move. “When all you humans die so very young, I see no benefit to learning names. Each one is much the same, so dull and base. If you do wish to be remembered, sage, it falls to you to earn my favor fair. But as it stands, you shall be remembered only as a warning for those to come, the lout who almost jeopardized my light.”
I’m not supposed to be hearing this, Fernan realized. Whatever Lumière had taken him here to see, it wasn’t him getting chastised by his patron spirit. He would never show such weakness willingly, based on what Fernan knew of him. But then what?
Beyond denying his protests, the sage of light had done nothing to explain why it was so necessary that he meet the sun spirit in person.
“The Isle of Soleil is nothing compared to Guerron, Great Spirit. You have more followers here, more offerings, more power given to you, Great Spirit.” Lumière stood slightly straighter. “My temple and I serve you far better than those backwater barbarians. We always have, and always will, so long as you and our temple remain standing.”
“But also run by a reluctant fool and his line of incompetents and fools.” Soleil pulsed the slightest bit brighter, sending Lord Lumière stumbling with his hands over his eyes. “Until my prompting, you stood still in place, allowing Levian to run roughshod, and challenge everything that I have built. You came so close to failure even then.”
“But I didn’t.” The sun sage took a deep breath. “My plan worked, and Levian’s line of sages has ended. Your will stands unchallenged here, ready to bring light to those even beyond the city walls.”
“Your plan?” There was a sense of amusement in the spirit’s face, somehow, despite it remaining unmoving still. “With all of my power brought to bear, you failed. Levian’s human could have ended you, and if not for your minor use to me, she would have done the world a favor, too. Without the binder and his base machine, you’d never have defeated her at all.”
“Should I go?” Fernan hissed quietly. “Can I go?” Whatever was happening here, he wanted no part of it.
Soleil ignored him once again, but Lumière shook his head, pointing his finger to the ground in a clear order to stay. “The power was yours, Soleil, the weapon his, but once you made your directives clear, the plan was mine. I sought him out, Great Spirit. I did what was asked in exchange, though the price was great, and mine to bear. I confirmed his power, to ensure that he could serve me, and through me, you.”
“You asked that I confirm his power true, wasting my time with your stupid nonsense. You never could or would have trusted him, had he not sworn that he could do as said.” Soleil shone brighter once more, blotting his shape entirely for a momentary flicker. “You should have verified yourself, human, instead of calling me for petty tasks. Especially to see a foul binder. I’ve yet to see a man with less respect. His heart was shrouded in Khali’s darkness; Pantera’s claw was wedged within his soul. The mere existence of a binder is an affront to myself and all spirits.”
Fernan blinked. I saw that. Lumière and Magnifico had called down Soleil before the duel, when he’d followed Aubaine up to the other tower.
He racked his brain for more details of the moment, but so much had happened since…
Magnifico must be a binder, then. He had always given the air of someone more important than he let on, but it still seemed strange that he wouldn’t present himself openly then. If he were a binder and a diplomat, the entire bard persona seemed bewildering. Surely it carried more risk than presenting himself openly, while offering little in return.
It was possible they were talking about someone else, of course, but with someone from Avalon present for a meeting with Soleil and a binder being discussed, there was only one obvious conclusion. But then, what does it mean?
He really wasn’t supposed to be hearing this.
“I apologize, Soleil.” Lord Lumière dipped his head in a slight show of respect. “It was a great feat he claimed to be capable of, and I had to know beyond all doubt that he could perform it. Only a vow before a spirit, a forfeiture of his soul should he deceive, could ensure that he was as good as his word.”
It ensures he didn’t lie; that doesn’t mean he wasn’t tricking someone.
Magnifico had called Lumière a friend, but…
It was impossible to trust Jethro’s letter with no proof of his claims, but something felt all wrong about this. There was something missing, and he just had to figure it out.
“You must be ever vigilant, human, against the binders perhaps most of all. The devastation they leave in their wake is so much greater than your uselessness. You must recall the scramble after that binder did kill Pantera the Undying? A simple convocation instead took two turns of the earth as the tides foundered, the waters on the shore receding with each moment that no spirit ruled the deep.”
“I had not been born yet then, Great Spirit, but I know that the wrong spirit ascended to his position. Levian is a vile brute, his sages little better. An unworthy heir in all respects to Pantera’s legacy, and a stain on all of spiritkind to even be considered in the same breath as your illustrious self.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Indeed. You speak good sense for once, Lumière.” The slightest bit of warmth crept into the sun spirit’s words. “And yet the wrong spirit need not be picked. When dread Khali was sealed away at last, Lunette took on the mantle of darkness. Of night but not of darkness yet, still bright, a wonderful reflection of my light and of the core of Terramond below, the earth beneath your puny human feet. And so she rules with dignity and care, and ably keeps the darkness well in hand, ensuring that Khali remains banished, trapped in the prison of her world, Nocturne.”
Fernan held back a sigh.
Lunette, the moon, was considered the daughter of the sun, however that worked. The Temple’s statues even showed Soleil holding the nascent spirit, in the eons before she had grown into her power. Scant wonder she was the sort Soleil would consider worthy. Still, it’s disappointing to think even a great spirit would think that way.
“Now Levian’s line of sages is dead,” Lumière noted. “No offerings, no sacrifices, no followers. In time, he too, shall fade. If not entirely, then enough that he cannot maintain his hold on the whole of the deep. Decades, at most.”
“No time at all, and then we shall convene. The Torrent of the Deep shall be replaced, and past mistakes shall not be left to stand. So too, the past must not repeat again. Two great spirits displaced in centuries, and then, soon Levian will make it three. This time, it cannot be another beast whose rule is so fragile it can’t withstand even a feeble weakling such as you.”
“Absolutely.” Lumière nodded. “Nothing is more disgusting than a spirit unworthy of its power. I shall do whatever I can to aid you in this.”
“And your descendants, should the problem last.” Soleil’s aura condensed in on itself. “Which raises an important issue, sage: Why are there followers of Levian remaining in a city that is mine? Why have they not been purged, offered to me? The fifty agitators that you claimed were a good start, but not nearly enough. Their fair leader has fallen to the sea; their spirit has deserted his humans at this fair moment of their direst need. A warm, well-crafted pyre of those who live would do much to restore your standing, sage.”
Fernan felt his eyes burn brighter, a visceral horror setting within him. Gézarde was betrayed, and lashed out in turn. But this… How could the spirit of the sun think this way? He was the bringer of light, the source of life. Without him, there could only be famine, deathly cold, and darkness.
And he wants anyone who disagrees with him dead.
Obviously the Temple wasn’t infallible, but their feud with Camille and Levian had seemed so human. A great spirit should have been above that, not the worst offender.
As the flames from Fernan’s eyes grew taller, Soleil’s glow seemed to soften, until his form was crisp and clear again, as if the rage were cutting through his cloud of light. “What is wrong with you? How could you—”
Lord Lumière set a hand on Fernan’s shoulder forcefully, shaking his head.
“Did you just hear the other human speak? The light within him does remain quite crude, base flame and little more, yet more than you.”
“My light is diminished, I must concede, as a result of putting everything into that duel for you. I serve and obey, Great Spirit. My vows to you ensure that I can do no less so long as you live.”
“And yet the human pests that Levian swept up in his foul, brutish wake yet live, when they could be good fuel for my power.”
The hand on his shoulder tightened. “We’re trying something better. The area by the harbor where the bilgewater Malins reside has been filled with followers of flame, of light. This flame sage brought them from the mountains.” What? “Levian’s supporters are destined to be subverted from within, converted to your cause. What other choice do they have? And each of them in turn shall praise your mercy. ‘Soleil’s Grace’, they shall exclaim with their every breath. A lifetime of their offerings, their descendants’ offerings — surely that outweighs the momentary gains of their death.”
Bastard. Fernan flung Lumière’s hand from his shoulder. You’re putting all of my people in the sights of this murderous monster.
He felt Gézarde’s flames swell in his lungs, in his hands, his eyes, until they threatened to engulf his body.
At every turn they want me for a pawn, to gamble with lives that aren’t theirs.
I refuse.
The green flame engulfed his entire body, but he felt no burn, no pain. Only the power coursing through and around him, ready to defend himself and his people.
“No.” Soleil’s finger jumped slightly, pulling with it all of the flame Fernan had gathered and flinging it harmlessly into the mountainside behind them.
Fuck.
Coming along had seemed like the smarter play, a way to avoid further angering Lumière and getting wrapped up in his plans again. Fucking brilliant.
“He lacks control, the same as you lack strength. The wild flame is not yet tamed into the elegance of my bright solar rays.” He was still addressing Lumière. “Your plan is a weakness, still, for it does not display my power or my strength, nor yours. You have depended on half-measures and so much of my assistance the whole time.”
Lumière’s aura was so dim, a normal person would have eclipsed him, let alone any sage of light. He faced Fernan, but whatever look he was trying to convey, Fernan couldn’t read it. “I am but a short-sighted human, Great Spirit, destined to die before the likes of you even notice the time pass. But you, you shall reap the rewards you earned in what for you is no time at all. While the energy of their life would come to you but once, spent in an instant.
The spirit still gave off an aura of contempt, but he remained silent.
“Two centuries is a long time for the pitiful likes of me, but you stare it in the face as we humans face tomorrow’s dawn. It is obvious which will serve you better then.”
“There is some sense in what’s proposed, for once. But these humans you wish to use do not serve me in truth, but one beneath my rays. I shall regret this in millennia should this flame spirit bring his strength to bear and try to take my place as Arbiter.”
“He’s in hand,” Lumière assured. “A backwater spirit of petty tricks and barbarism. He has no other followers save those within my city, only one sage who stands before you now.” He pushed Fernan forward, earning him a glare so intense it burned his hand. Good.
“That’s suitably quite crude if you, human,” Soleil noted. “You will assume responsibility for converting these humans, sage of flame? And be it on your head if this should fail?”
“If he’d asked, told me of this predicament, I would have tried to help in any way that I could. I have no desire to see the Malins eradicated. But I won’t—”
“The responsibility is mine.” A trace of the old confidence had returned to Lumière’s voice. “ It’s my plan, Soleil. Fernan is merely an underling working on my behalf, just as his flame spirit shall be to you.” He paused for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “So too, the glory shall be mine alone, once you see the wisdom of it.”
Too little, too late.
But Fernan couldn’t let the conversation end with Soleil resolved to annihilation of the Malins.
Why couldn’t he have told me this first?
“My spirit would likely be amenable to this.” Avoid the lies, spirits hate that, simply speak the truth that serves you. It didn’t come naturally, but right now he had to try. “Gézarde has shared much of your outlook regarding humans. Less than a year ago, he proposed something similar, eradicating a human village housing those who defied him.”
He’s better about it now, but… Better was still limited. He and the geckos would always come first, and getting as far as they had had been struggle enough. It was a start, at least. After all the history there, establishing even that much trust felt like an accomplishment.
“I helped convince him that cooperation would be preferable to eradication, and now he has more followers than ever.” Because I gave the geckos the concessions they were owed, from us taking their home and their food. But Soleil would have little interest in that aspect of it anyway, and it certainly wouldn’t help to bring it up. “Lumière’s plan will serve you better. This, I honestly believe, and you may take my soul should I lie. Between the people and the spirits involved, you can be better served while your power remains unthreatened.”
I just won’t have any part of it.
“Very well.” Soleil stared through him, floating lightly above the ground. His arms were folded now, though he hadn’t moved them to get them there. “Your soul is mine should I regret this, sage.”
“I so swear.” Lumière beamed. “You shall not regret this as long as you live, Great Spirit. This is the beginning of something magnificent.”