Fernan X: Awakened by the Midnight Sun

Something was missing.

Thin rays of orange light flickered across walls of faint yellow, points of light across swathes of shadow. Their source was an orange maw embedded into the wall, encircled by twisted iron hotter than the flame it guarded.

Fernan felt warmth at his back, and turned his head back to see Mara’s comforting green glow, simmering quietly as she slept.

It’s a good thing she’s back in good shape after—

Fernan jolted up, feeling a rush of cool air at his back. The battle…

Everything had been going to plan, and then…

Sitting up, it was easier to take in the room, to see the rows of faintly glowing bodies laid out as furious red figures skittered around them.

Levian showed up, and pulled me under. Waking up here, it meant that somehow Mara had saved him, braving freezing water when she couldn’t even swim. It was such an amazing explanation that it didn’t make sense.

And yet here I am. Most of me, anyway. Fernan was completely bereft of spiritual energy, but it was more than that. Something had been left beneath the waves, something crucial, completely gone. Fernan couldn’t understand it, entirely, but he felt it. A yawning absence deep within his soul.

“Sire Montaigne?” one of the bodies called softly from atop a nearby bed. “Is that you?”

No, it’s someone else with burning eyes, taking a nap on a fire gecko. “Mostly,” he answered instead. “I think so, anyway.”

“Superb! I just wanted to thank you for that excellent showing, sinking Glaciel’s castle so neatly. Not to mention screening our advance. I dare say you made an excellent showing, especially for your first combat.”

“Uh, thank you…”

“Sire Dominique Mesnil de Torpierre.” That’s where Laura’s family is from. “I was with the Fox-King and you when he rallied the people to battle, though I suppose you must have been so overwhelmed by all of it. I felt much the same that fateful day when Lady Camille fell.”

“You were there too?”

“Of course I was! There’s no better place for a king’s man than at the king’s side. There I was, having lived my whole life waiting for my first real battle, ready to strike the chains of oppression as I pierced Avaline skulls with the tip of my lance. And yet it was Lumière’s pack of traitors on whom I first bloodied my blade. Bastards nearly burned my arm off too. If I’d been just a little slower, I’d have been as dead as poor Étienne, run through in the abdomen and forced to die so slowly.” He shook his head sadly. “Viles sages to a vile spirit of a vile domain, effecting our ruination even in its absence… Erm, present company excluded of course. You’re one of the good ones.”

“So I keep hearing.”

“I say again, good show! All the more so for getting out unscathed. When that peasant girl dived after you, I confess to thinking you were already gone, life forfeit the moment your flame winked out under the water, like the story of Brûlézarde. Even allegory aside, no one can survive in freezing water for long, even if you manage not to break your ankle.” He wiggled his feet as if making a joke, one far more full of warmth than the other. “Regardless, I’m pleased to see I was wrong.”

“Florette?” I didn’t give her enough credit; she saved my life. “Where is she? Did she make it out?”

“No one’s made it out of anything yet,” Mesnil said with a rueful chuckle. “When they carried me off, the sky was still white with snow, fair Lucien was still fighting the tides. Your Florette was flitting across the battlefield in and out of sight, and at such blinding speed. I never knew she was one of Lady Leclaire’s acolytes.”

What? “If she heard you say that she might legitimately try to stab you.”

“A strange custom, but I suppose the peasants do have their little rituals. An aggressive form of modesty, I presume, though not one I could bring myself to countenance.”

Fernan blinked. “No, it’s because she and Camille don’t get on at all.” Not something I can blame her for too much, but it wouldn’t be that hard to be a little more polite to someone helping us either.

“They conspired together to kill Malin’s abominable administrator, did they not? That ‘accident’ was timed terribly suspiciously, after our fair queen-to-be spent so much time infiltrating Malin. It’s a prelude to returning the city to its rightful rule, mark my words.” Despite his confident tone, his aura dimmed. “She’ll have to do something about that spirit of hers, though. I’m sure she’s had other issues to worry about, but it’s the role of a sage. If you neglect it, you end up with a mess like this. Levian is punishing us.”

“That was Levian then. You’re sure?” And if it really was, then… “That wouldn’t be Camille’s fault though. Spirits do as they please.”

“I’m reasonably sure. Though I’ve known many, I myself am no sage, nor an expert on the spirits. Nonetheless, if you see a scaly serpentine creature from the deep, wielding water as his weapon, it seems the logical thing to guess.”

“But Camille—”

“Is the High Priestess of Levian. She’s the bridge between her spirit and her people. Lord Emile might be older, but his position—”

The other Leclaire. “He was the one who negotiated a deal with Glaciel, Sire Dominique. A deal we’ve never heard the exact wording on.” He’s the cause of all of this. In his mind, Fernan could hear Florette pleading to just kill him and move on. “Do you know where he is?”

Mesnil shrugged. “Back at the castle, presumably. He’s bound by word not to fight.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious?”

“It’s a standard condition of such pacts. A ceasefire means little when even the negotiators are permitted to kill each other. I’ll tell His Grace your theory, to be sure. It bears investigating. But Lord Emile has served the Empire faithfully since before either of us were born. I’m sure he and Lady Camille both did their best to prevent this. In the future, they’ll learn and do better.” Despite his confident words, the man’s aura only continued to dim as he spoke, until his feet were almost black. “And in the here and now, it’s a good thing we knights are here to fight for the innocent. I’d take a hundred wounds as bad as this so long as justice was assured. Every true knight in this hospital would say the same.”

If only I could be so sure. Fernan stood up, careful not to wake Mara, and slipped out of the room with an ungainly shuffle.

The air was eerily quiet, no sounds of battle from this far away, only the whistling wind in the air.

If he’d had any energy left, Fernan might have flown up to the top of the wall to better take in the scope of the battle. But it was easy enough to imagine, a desperate scramble for survival on the ice, pelted and drowned by Levian’s attacks as Glaciel weathered them within the walls of her castle.

Florette could be hurt. It was so easy to imagine, making just one mistake in a situation that had killed three of Mara’s siblings and filled an entire makeshift hospital with trained knights.

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Who knew how many more bodies were floating in the water outside?

And I helped make it happen. Whatever Fernan had lost, perhaps it still wasn’t enough. Drawing further on himself was an option to consider, if it could bring an end to the fighting. Better to lose two years than the rest of your life, as Lumière had said.

Without consciously making the decision, he felt himself walking up the spiraled steps to ascend the wall.

Each step was harder than the last, an exhaustion soaked into every inch of his body. Before long, he felt himself leaning against the wall as he lurched forward, trying to stay on his feet. Perhaps he was losing precious seconds, but burning more of himself to climb could waste even more. It was impossible to know the right choice.

Perhaps it was already too late for either to matter.

Emile Leclaire stood still at the top of the wall, hands clasped behind his back. His clothing flowed around him in the wind as if it were looser than winter wear had any right to be, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. It was strange that he could be here alone, such a contrast to the buzz of activity mere hours ago. Patrols and defenders still manned the walls, but on this stretch, at least, Leclaire remained alone.

Sire Mesnil said he’d be at the castle. What’s he doing here? It made everything with Levian even more suspicious.

Glaciel’s island was almost completely obscured by the thick vortex of snow, the air around it so cold it was impossible to tell where it ended and the sky began.

Beneath the wall, in the gloom of dark waters, points of light scattered across swathes of darkness, the fading warmth of the dead and the dying. There must be dozens of them, and that’s just the ones I can see. How many more were already so cold they were invisible, or so far out to sea they were out of sight?

One of them could be Florette.

“Admiring your handiwork?” Fernan asked, fire in his voice.

“My handiwork? I confess, I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that.” He didn’t turn to face Fernan, didn’t move at all.

“You brokered the deal with Glaciel. You’re a sage of Levian. Levian appeared out of nowhere to start attacking us and help Glaciel. Surely your esteemed noble mind can understand the implications.”

“Clearly, you’re laboring under severe misapprehensions as to my nature. A sage serves their spirit, they cannot command them. Only his own word can truly compel Levian, not mine.” Finally, his composure broke, head shaking with a scowl. “Do you think I want this? Do you think it isn’t agony to have to watch so many meet their end while I’m entirely helpless to intervene?”

“I’m considering it.” Just standing was beginning to be draining, so Fernan leaned against the doorway. “I didn’t accuse you of anything, I was only asking a question. You have to admit how it looks.” Half the aristocrats I know would have just said ‘yes’ for the sake of rubbing my nose in their superiority.

“Questions can so often be misleading. They don’t commit you to any truth, nor bind you to any firm statement. Yet they can steer the conversation anyway. A declaration without declaring, an accusation without accusing.” Sighing, he stroked his chin. “But I think I understand your purpose here. The Leclaires serve the Fox-King and Levian, and so it must seem strange for one to work so thoroughly against the other. I assure you, it is not. Levian serves nothing but his own self-interest. I’m told you’ve met Soleil, so you ought to be familiar with the type.”

Unfortunately. “He was about as awful as it gets. It was hard to even see it, this fundamental force of the world so petty and malicious.” The erstwhile sun spirit hadn’t had much regard for his sage either. “But once they were at odds, Soleil’s sage Aurelian Lumière put everything he had into a plan that would spare his son from Soleil’s wrath. It even worked, though it cost him everything.”

“You think I ought to have done the same with Camille?” Leclaire shrugged. “Perhaps I should have. She’s certainly endured enough. But it’s far too late now. Even back then, I doubt her parents would have wanted me to intercede.”

“The past isn’t as important as what we do now. How limited are you exactly? What were the exact words of your deal? Maybe there’s a way around it, like there was for the rest of us.”

“My, you’re presumptuous, aren’t you? Unfortunately, by the vows I’ve sworn, I cannot disclose the deal to anyone. Regardless, I assure you my word is not so easily broken.”

“So you’re just sitting here watching? You could be helping the sick, or comforting the people sheltering back in the city, or—”

“I could do a great many things. Certainly, I intend to attend to the wounded once I have the time to spare. I’m aware that my limitations need not wholly stifle action. Louise de Montflanquin, advisor to two Fox-kings, was bound by an unbreakable vow of pacifism for the duration of her royal service, and still she managed to craft an alliance between Leclaire and Renart where before their enmity had only been growing. At the moment, staying informed is more of a priority for me.”

Informed? “Can you see what’s happening down there, through all that snow and fog?” Even I can’t, and my sight is better suited to the task than most.

“I can call upon Levian’s power to do so. Every few minutes, in order to assess the conditions of the battlefield, I do.” Before Fernan had the chance to ask, he said. “Your friend remained alive, for now. When they can spare it, as they are drawn back and forth across the ice, the Fallen are looking out for her, creating just the right distraction to stay a hand that might otherwise strike her. Corro lives, though he had to retreat after a confrontation with Glaciel. Lucien is in a difficult position, Levian on one side and Glaciel to the other, but with each wave that knocked his forces down, he has rallied them to rise again. Many have died, and most likely many more will, but for the moment, they are holding. Not progressing, mind, but the stalemate continues.”

Fernan let out a long sigh of relief. If she’d killed herself diving into freezing water to save me… It was hard to be friends with someone so careless about her own well-being, but it meant everything that she would go so far to protect him.

“If you’re telling the truth, Levian is still here for a reason. What does he get out of it? With Flammare and the spirits here, I don’t think Glaciel can really win an absolute victory. And anything less means that Levian isn’t protected from all the other spirits he’s defying.”

“Defying? He’s demonstrating his strength. I don’t imagine Glaciel will block Flammare’s ascension entirely, but once the conflict is over one way or another, Levian will have proven the dangers of opposing him, and weakened Flammare. The Torrent of the Deep is too deeply entrenched to easily be removed, and while this will test that, he imagines it will not break it. In a few centuries, his reputation of strength will allow him greater influence, claim over adjacent and subordinate domains. Spirits will concede before challenging him, only ceding him greater power. With a large enough surge of power in a short enough time frame, he might even manage it sooner.”

“That… maybe I’m overestimating spirits, but it’s hard to imagine that being worth it.”

“Indeed.” Leclaire stroked his beard again. “It’s not a plan I think will end up benefiting him, in the end. But Levian is new to his seat, and he acquired it through force and dominance. It’s hardly surprising he would look to what worked to expand his influence.”

“It’s still a fucking awful thing to do, and it could end up killing everyone in the world if it doesn’t go exactly as predicted.”

“Then he’d be the right hand of one of the only spirits whose followers could survive. Still an improvement on his current position. But either way, the world endures more conflict and strife. More people slowly bleeding out on the ground, alone and unloved. Do you think I want that? Camille and Lucien have to live in this world, and it’s not hard to guess that their parents would want me to make sure it’s still there for them, no matter the cost. I’m doing what I can.”

“But how can we trust you on that?”

“Where did you get the impression that I have any need for your trust? A short-lived sage to a minor flame spirit of no particular renown, headed rapidly towards your own demise. You have done favors for young Lucien, and earned his recognition. That isn’t nothing, but it hardly makes you indispensable, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Favors? I saved his life from Glaciel! I rescued him from Lumière’s captivity and let him rule in his own name. I’ve been feeding his subjects, helping keep everything going. Not to mention dealing with the spirit side of things, where I notice you were no help at all.”

“You use an interesting definition of help, to exclude moving Glaciel’s castle into the position that allowed this attack and brokering a deal for her to leave the city alone until you were ready to fight.”

Damn, he’s right. So cold and exhausted, it was easy to let the heat of the moment carry him away. But that wasn’t productive, it didn’t accomplish anything, didn’t save anyone. “I apologize. Of course that was important.”

Leclaire nodded. “Your actions prove that you have your uses to the Empire, certainly. It would be easier if you took me at my word. It’s not as if I’ve ever lied to you.” A brief click of his tongue left his mouth. “It seems your heart is behind young Lucien, and your backward manners ought to be expected, given your upbringing. Do you wish to rejoin the battle? I could escort you. The share of Levian’s power I can call on allows me to move rapidly and safely across the ice and slick terrain.”

“You can get me there?”

“Quickly and safely, provided nothing unexpected occurs. I cannot participate in the fighting, so Levian’s spiritual power is of limited use for the moment.”

That’s a surprisingly quick turn. Is he plotting something else, manipulating me?

Probably. It could even be as simple as betting that I get myself killed.

But I don’t think it’s help that I can turn down.

“Thank you,” said Fernan. “I think I might have a way to win this battle, though not without cost.”

“Where do you wish to go?”

Fernan pointed out the spot he needed to go, and Leclaire’s aura pulsed with surprise.

It’s not ideal. Nothing about this is. But if the alternative is frozen annihilation?

“Let’s go.”