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Enmity of Atlas
Chapter 83: Second Note (Trenton/Kiva/Garrote/Trenton)

Chapter 83: Second Note (Trenton/Kiva/Garrote/Trenton)

“What was that? Who was that?” Kiva said, looking back and forth between him and the letter in his hands. Why now? Why was he back now of all times? It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. Trenton had just barely come to terms with the last letter. He couldn’t handle another one, not now. His mind reeling recalling the contents of the last letter he’d received, Trenton hastily explained the last interaction they’d had back at Rema’s tower, holding the letter aloft in his shaking hands.

“...but if he’s back in touch again, I can’t imagine it’s good news,” Trenton finished, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the worst…again.

“Hello again, Trenton (and whoever else you’ve within your fellowship)! Been quite a while since my last message, and I do so apologize for the severity of my words. I don’t believe in sugar coating, but I do believe in transparency when necessary. And given the circumstances, I’d say it was more than necessary, more so now than ever. Your enemies draw close, much closer than you know, and in ways you’re not prepared to handle. This whole time while you’ve been traveling, they’ve been preparing, planning, scheming to some end that’s beyond even me. I’d be more cautious moving forward, trust less, learn more. All I do know at the moment, regarding information you’re not privy to, is the antics of the chosen over in Iradel. It seems that recently they’ve been in contact with the gods, and given your recent infernal encounters, it’s safe to say they aren't happy. Now does that mean? I haven't the slightest. And I know this letter didn’t come with any money, but I think I’ve got something prepared that you’ll like a little better. I had to send a couple messages, pull a couple strings, but I managed to get in touch with a rather important fellow. He’s going to be a little while, but he’s good company to keep around. The wait will be well worthwhile, trust me. So good luck and keep your eyes peeled. I’m rooting for you! ”

Trenton closed the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, stowing it away in his invisible pocket. He let out a sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders easing. It wasn’t ideal, more bad news to add to the day, but it was far, far better than last time, a boon he really needed today.

“Closer than you know…” Kiva muttered to herself, turning the careful prose of the letter over in her mind. “Is he saying there’s a rat? A traitor in our midst?”

“It’s possible, but unlikely. If it was a rat, I imagine he would’ve at least clued us in on who it might be. Reasonably, he’s just telling us to be more cautious, keep on our guard. It’s simple, but good advice…advice I’d do well to heed. What worries me the most is the involvement of the chosen. Back in the first letter, he’d mentioned 3 groups of enemies that we weren't aware of. Veil and Bloody we know, but it sounds like the chosen are throwing their hats into the mix now as well,” Trenton said, leaning his back on the railing as he talked, Kiva joining him.

“You don’t sound very surprised.”

“That’s because I’m not…I…” Trenton said, struggling for his words. “I died, and yet I didn’t. It’s not just strange, it’s impossible, something we haven't even the slightest concept of,” Trenton looked over at Kiva, his eyes suddenly intense. “Have you ever wondered why only Leo and I survived? Well I did, too,” Trenton turned to leave, tears in his eyes.

“Wait, Trenton! What does that mean?” Kiva shouted after him, but he was already gone, nothing but the hum of machinery to comfort her in his absence.

***

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Kiva sat on the balcony alone, thinking better of rushing after Trenton. Even as much as it hurt her, as confused as she felt, she knew intuitively that he had to be alone. If he had wanted her to know anymore, he would have said so. And…it almost felt like he was sharing a secret with her, hinting towards it in a way that made sense only to him. What right did she have to judge him?

All this time, no matter what burden he faced, he always forced his way through, gritting his teeth and putting on a faux smile for their sake. No matter what happened, no matter how much they asked of him, he always made sure everyone else was alright first and foremost. But inside, he was struggling. It was clear that he had been bottling up whatever was going on in his head all this time, and now, for the first time, he had shared with her just a little bit of what was really going on behind the scenes, his real self. It stung to be left wanting, but it was also comforting to know that he trusted her, a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest.

“‘What hard lives we lead when great men we follow,’” Kiva whispered to herself, remembering a famous quote from a book she’d read many years ago. It felt fitting. If anyone was a great man, it was Trenton. She’d never met anyone in her entire life as determined as him, least of all someone so young. It was admirable–inspiring.

Kiva wrapped her arms around herself, quelling her ravenous feelings of passion–love. It felt almost like tamping down a raging lion with nothing but a washcloth, but it had to be done. She couldn’t give into emotion now of all times. She’d gotten this far without it, what was one more night? And besides, she had more important things to worry about. Kiva’s head swiveled side to side, suddenly remembering something, looking for someone that obviously wasn’t there. Where was Garrote?

***

Garrote shrugged off his cloak, carefully bundling it and stowing it away in his deep pocket. If he meant to fight, then he couldn’t afford to be slowed down by loose fabrics, even if it was a little chilly. Garrote’s eyes bore into the massive, gasallian tower before himself with a fury he’d rarely known in his life. He didn’t know what he was doing, sure, and maybe he made mistakes, but that was no excuse for what Drawven did to him. The blood of the covenant is much thicker than the water of the womb. They may have been brothers before, but no longer. If it meant war, then so be it. Drawven was to die sooner or later, so why not tonight?

***

That night, Trenton dreamt as he never had before, tossing and turning in his slumber, pale and sweaty, his heart racing. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve woken up from the sheer amount of stress his body was being placed under, but this was no ordinary dream; something held him, gripped him tight and forced him to watch, his eyes held wide the whole while, only releasing him come daybreak when it was finally finished with him, when he’d seen what it wanted to show him.

Trenton woke with a start, feeling the sweat trickle down his brow and clutching his chest, noticing his abnormal heart rate. Never had he awoken so panicked before, so fearful, so…sad. Whatever it was that he had been dreaming about, he couldn’t remember, barely scraps remaining of what had been a rather disquieting dream, and it was fading fast. Lines and colors swirled about his mind, ripping each other apart and disappearing, almost as if the memory was being purposefully destroyed.

“Sorry bud, didn’t realize my face was so scary.”

Trenton looked around the room, realizing he wasn’t actually alone as he’d assumed. It seemed that in his panic, he’d completely missed the two men sharing the room with him, their casual demeanors and concerned faces off putting for three men Trenton had never seen before in his life: an older man leaning against the wall on the far side, a younger man bouncing up and down in place, barely concealing his excitement, and white haired boy, with the most brilliantly blues eyes Trenton had ever seen, fidgeting with his hands and staring at the ground. Trenton leapt out of bed, landing light on his feet, ready to fight–to kill.

“No need to be so aggressive,” the older man said, fiddling with an embroidered badge on the front of his shirt resembling a bull's head. In fact, all three of them had the same patch sewn into their shirts, an odd contrast with their casual clothes. It took him a second, but after a moment it hit him, the meanings of the patches rising from the depths of his memory. Generals. They were three of Dasellium’s seven generals, some of the most important people in the entire kingdom, on the same level as Geren, both in his room, watching him sleep. What the hell was going on here?